Chapter 8: Redecoration

It was a surprise, to say the least when a loud hammering sound disturbed Vlad from a pleasant nap on his desk. Swiping away a piece of paper, the man looked away with blinking owl eyes. His head automatically turned to the side to ask Daniel why he was making that racket, but then he stalled … he wasn't in the hospital anymore. He wasn't even in the same state as the boy. This was his office, wasn't it?

Suddenly, there was more tromping, a metallic voice barking one thing or another. A familiar voice.

Rising to his feet, groggily trying to straighten his tie because it seemed like he had fallen asleep in his suit, Vlad slowly opened his office's heavy oak doors and glared out at the main entrance. For a moment, he stared, too tired to truly comprehend why all these people were wandering up and down the stairs with large boxes and furniture. What was going on here?

It wasn't until he saw a huge television being dragged in through the thrown-open front doors that he stumbled out of his office. He tried straightening up as he stalled next to a large figure that looked ex-military save for one detail: he green hair and black sunglasses that were hiding the man's eyes.

"You call buying a flat-screen TV redecorating? I thought you were doing the boy's room," stated the billionaire in a dry sarcastic tone as he threw the ghost a look who, at the moment, was barking something about surround sound and a home theatre.

The ghost didn't even look over at Vlad as he eyeballed the movers. Only when the main entrance had become slightly less crowded did Skulker speak, his metallic tone obviously not belonging to his disguise. Really, these movers must have been half-blind not realize how inhuman Skulker was; some of his disguise just looked like foundation on metal.

Where did he even get foundation? And was that even his color?

"I am! I am also setting up a home theatre with all the fixings so that you can have a mocking expression of family time," countered Skulker as he titled his sunglasses down slightly, his eyes glowing behind his weak disguise.

"Family time?" questions the billionaire as he stared at the new leather couch and matching chairs that were slowly moved into the new family room. What happened to his themed couches and his Packer cut-outs that had been in that room?

"You should be thanking me," stated the ghost as he pointed up the stairs, a king-sized mattress heading up the stairs.

Vlad gave him a tired look.

"Plasmius you are a fricken billionaire and you don't even have cable. The only thing that even resembles entertainment of a visual kind is that stupid theater that plays Packer's reruns," said the ghost as he cringed at that thought.

"I'm doing you and the welp a huge favor by adding the family room," Skulker added duly.

"Welp?" murmured the man as he raised a brow.

Skulker took a step forward and eyed the room's growing presentation, "The ghost child. It is a well-known fact that normal American teenagers can't survive without media. They apparently can have breakdowns if the impute of useless knowledge is denied too long."

Despite it being early, his clothes wrinkled and his morning coffee not yet in his hand, Vlad actually cracked a smile and chuckled darkly at the frog's lack of knowledge. "Is that so?"

"Yes, now I have two words for you: new couch," said Skulker as he headed into the new family room. "Watch me abuse it."

Vlad rolled his eyes as he watched the metallic spirit flop down and turn on the newly set up television, the introduction of the Exorcist quickly playing in the background, "You really are not going to sit on the couch all day, are you?"

A dry snort escaped the ghost, "There are three hundred channels on this thing. What do you think?"

…

Danny was angry. It wasn't the normal kind of rage either. It was a mimicry to the emotion of abandonment. It had been two weeks and Vlad hadn't even bothered to contact him. To make matters worse, he had no one to talk to and the loneliness was making itself known. Not even that strange Rodger Smith character that apparently was on a new case involving a guy who had fallen into a huge vat of sporks was around. Not even the sane characters like Thomas were around.

The teenager sighed, shoulders sagging as he walked past a little girl who ran away screaming 'needles' in the hall. Normally, he might have found that funny to watch the pediatrician chase after his young patient. Instead, the boy's eye merely twitched at the irritating volume her voice had taken on.

He was really starting to hate this place! It was like a prison where he'd ask every morning if he had any visitors. Unfortunately, his only possible visitor was Vlad or his English teacher … unless a spirit decided to kick up trouble.

The teenager stalled at the realization, a sadness forming in his eyes as he accepted the truth: he missed the Froot Loop.

"Stupid moneybags-jerk," whispered Danny in disgust as he walked past a female nurse and a male intern with an eye patch, the two giving him an odd look since this was the third time he had wandered past the couple blindly.

Thoughts drowned in a collection of old rivalries and recent kindnesses left the teenager at ill-ease and soon Danny's feet led him to a random destination where the couple wasn't staring.

Danny immediately squinted as soon as his feet stepped outside and into the sunlight. 'The sunlight; it burns' was Danny's expression as he walked through the hospital gardens with his hand shading his eyes. He stood there a moment, his gaze shifting over the landscaping. The weeping willows were the prettiest with their long dragging leaves overlooking a small koi pond. He immediately headed over there, taking a deep breath through his nose and flopping onto a stone bench.

It was nice here. Quiet.

And so he sat, watching the fish dance in their endless game as their little mouths nibbled at the surface. It had to have a good hour before the teenager was interrupted, "Hi, Danny."

Danny twitched at the voice and was about to glare at whoever had spoken to him, wanting nothing more than to be alone, but he held his tongue when he looked up and noticed it was Dr. Webking.

His anger immediately drained. After all, it wasn't wise to threaten one's physician. Or however, the saying went.

"Oh … Hi. What's up?" the teenager said carefully, offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

The doctor sat on the bench beside him with a thump and put his hands into his doctor's jacket. He sat there a moment hoping the child would speak. When nothing came from waiting, he looked at the woe filled teenager and filled the silence. "What's up, huh? Well, I thought I'd ask you the same."

"What do you mean?" asked the teenager, feeling the loneliness in his heart settle into a place beneath his ribs. It was a feeling that he was still getting used to, this tightness in his chest. It happened whenever anyone talked to him in that soft tone. It was like they were preparing him for bad news. Personally, he hated it. Why couldn't everyone just talk to him normally ... like he wasn't some orphan-kid deserving of pity.

"Nurses know everything, my dear boy. They told me that you have been wandering aimlessly and snapping at everyone," said the doctor with a sad smile, which fit oddly under his whiskers, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," said Danny with a shrug.

"Oh, come now," laughed the doctor, "I won't bite."

Danny fidgeted in his stone seat for a moment, feeling the hard surface nip at the fabric of the clothes he was wearing, "Well, it's about my situation."

"Situation?" questioned Dr. Webking as he ran his fingers through his beard as if thinking. "What do you mean?"

"I'm scared of what is to come of me," suddenly bit out Danny, his hands grasping at his knees. He didn't know if he was shaking now because he was cold or because he was admitting his desperation. "What if Vlad has abandoned me? What if no one wants a teenager?"

The teen almost choked on his next words, "I'm going to an orphanage home, aren't I?"

The good doctor was still for a moment, his old eyes wandering over the saddened child's face. Danny was really hurting inside, grasping almost wilding for a sliver of hope. Apparently, Danny had very few close contacts in his life, but the ones he did have were major mental supporters. Without them, and no one to replace that void, he was quickly falling apart.

The doctor's tone was soft, "A few days ago you acted like you would have rather been sent to an orphanage then go with Mr. Masters? Do you know how hard it was for your godfather to sign those adoption papers? A single man doesn't make a life-altering decision like that lightly. Besides, I doubt he would invest so much emotion on something he was just going to throw away."

Danny and Mr. Webking both sat there in silence for a moment, the wind blowing through the willow's spindly branches. Then, before the conversation could continue, the doctor's beeper went off. Doctor Webking's mouth murmured something sounding suspiciously like 'sporks' before he rose to his feet and gave a regretful nod.

"I got to go Danny, but we'll continue this conversation later if you want," said the chubby man with a wave as he made his way towards the hospital doors, his long jacket rippling in the wind.

Danny just pouted as he watched his company leave. Part of him wanted to say he didn't need anyone and to go angst in a corner for a moment, glaring at anymore that dared meet his gaze.

"Being in a coma would have been easier than this," muttered the teenager to himself. "At least if I was asleep this all wouldn't be so horrible."

"A coma would be nice. No worries for the half-dead," chirped a voice into his ear, the presence of another making the boy sit up straight.

Danny jumped to his feet with a surprised gasp, turning around with a fighter's instinct. His eyes darted back and forth in a panicked manner as he tried to identify the owner of the voice. His eyes suddenly found their target and his hands became fists. There, within the branches of a weeping willow sat the winged eye.

"Oh, it's you," grumbled the child remembering the thing's mocking tone from their earlier meeting. Yet, despite the fact that the creature was trying to keep things from him, Danny asked, "Who or what are you?"

The weeping willow's branches floated around in the wind like the hair of a goddess for a minute or two before the small creature answered, "All you need to know of me is that I go by the name of Gibgit."

The eyeball waited for Danny's reaction. When none came, he glided down from the wispy branches and landed on Danny's shoulder like a parrot, its eyelid becoming a slit as if it were smiling.

"What are you doing here?" asked Danny as he ignored the impulse to pet the eyeball as it curled into his robe like a little chick looking for warmth.

Once seemingly settled, Gibgit's purple iris focused on Danny's glance and almost playfully stated, "Whatever I want."

"Whatever you want, huh? That's not a very good answer," said Danny, his shoulder's loosening when it became apparent that Gibgit wasn't going to bite into his neck or anything and was likely just leaching heat from him.

"Does one need a reason to make new friends?" inquired the small being as he dug into the collar of the halfling's robe a little more like an insistent mouse.

"Lair," moodily said Danny, his voice above a whisper. He had a heavy heart right now and the idea of friends was almost like poisoned honey. He missed Sam's and Tucker's more than he could voice, even their irritating characteristics. Right now he'd even listen to Sam's goth poetry just to hear the soft grating of her voice.

The eyeball sulked for a moment as if Danny's mood had seeped through his skin and into the little thing. "Don't be sad, young one. Things will get better."

Danny hid his face in his sleeve as he wiped away a stray tear. The thought of Sam and Tucker made him want to sob. He didn't even want to count how many times he thought about crying in a day, "Will they really?"

The human doubted it, but a small part wanted to hear yes anyway.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Yes. I and Mr. Masters are proof enough," cooed the eyeball with a hopeful tone as he brushed one of his wings almost warmly over the back of Danny's neck.

"If he is supposed to make everything better then why did he just leave? He didn't say good-bye or anything. He acted like I was contagious."

"Maybe he couldn't bring himself to say goodbye. Goodbyes hurt and sometimes are too painful for people to say," said Gibgit, his tone becoming a gentle whisper.

"Why did he even adopt me? He's always hated me!" whispered Danny angrily, his voice taking on a biting growl like an abandoned dog that had been wandering the streets too long.

"There is a thin line between love and hate," whispered the eye as the leaves danced mercilessly in the wind next to the two of them. Danny, honestly, didn't know what to say to that.

…

"Poor little female whelp," choked Skulker as he wiped away his tears, Vlad merely sniffing haplessly in the couch's corner cushion with a box of tissues at his side.

"What you watchin?" asked the Dairy King as he floated into the room carrying a wheel of cheese. It had been a busy day and finally, all the human help had finally gone to lunch. Now he was free to find a new place to stash his cheese collection.

"Extreme Makeover: The Home Edition," whimpered Skulker. "Tissue?"

"I still don't know how we got to this channel. Weren't we supposed to be watching Poltergeist or something?" said Vlad as he gladly took another tissue. "And shouldn't we be checking on the movers and decorators' work? It's been nearly half a day since you barked an order at them."

"You are right," said Skulker as he looked at the digital watch on his wrist. "I should go yell at them at least a little bit. Come, let's go see what I've decided to do with the whelp's cage- I mean room."

Vlad Master's, rising to his feet, quickly followed after the badly disguised ghost, part of his mind noting that a box for a study desk was being dragged into the castle. It seemed Skulker was preparing well. Not that he expected less of the hunter. He did think of Skulker as a second in command for his territory after all but had yet to make it fully official.

Humming to himself, the millionaire spoke his thoughts aloud, "Skulker? Do you know what grade Danny is even in? It hasn't occurred to me until now, but should I have him homeschooled at first to keep an eye on him or should I be worried about social contact given his mental status?"

Tilting his own head in thought, the steps seeming to go on forever because the boy's room likely was on the third floor, the hunter grumbled, "How would I know? I observed his habits more than what classes he was skipping. Also, you're his godfather, not me, so really the choice is yours. I still think he would make a better rug than a pawn, Plasmius."

"What about his hobbies? His favorite food? His favorite color?" asked Vlad as he ignored Skulker's comment. All he could think about recently was the broken boy in the rain. His mental vision of Danny Phantom was slowly becoming more and more complicated as mixed feelings of worry replaced old irritations. "I don't know anything about him, do I?"

Skulker was silent for a moment. The whelp wasn't a china doll. Then again, is this merely how all adoptive parents act?

"Don't worry. You have plenty of time to figure those things out," Skulker simply said as he stalled next to an open twin set of doors. "Now let's see if they can follow orders. I don't keep animals often, but even I think the welp will adapt well to confinement."

Stepping into the room, observing it with a clinical eye, the billionaire murmured, "But Daniel is coming here in less than a week. I need to know these things."

"Even better. You'll have something to ask him during those awkward family time dinners," said Skulker almost coyly as he waved his hand at the whelp's new room. He hadn't given the real decorators a lot of demands but he could certainly see where his influence was. "And don't worry so much. The halfa is under your thumb now and territory. What's the worst that could happen? I doubt he's going to keel over dead."

…

"Master? Master! Where are you?!" cried Gibgit as flew into the men's bathroom, looking under each stall, having finally escaped Danny's notice. It seemed that he had become the kid's new pet. Danny had even snuck him into the hospital and into his room just for some extra company. Gibgit honestly had loved the attention, he really did, but he would always only have one Master.

"Quiet. I'm in here Gibgit."

The eye flew over to the last stall and asked simply, "Are you decent?"

"Yes! Now get in here before someone sees you!" grumbled Smith from within the stall.

The eyeball flew over the stall wall and gasped, trying to cover his eye with his wing. Smith was perched on the stool.

"Master! You said you were decent!" Gibgit quickly closed his huge eye and did a suicide dive onto the bathroom floor since it was hard to stay afloat with only one wing.

"I am. I just needed a quiet place to think and read the newspaper. A place from peering eyes. My pants are still firmly attached to my body," grumbled Smith as the man resisted the urge to crush the small creature underfoot.

"Oh… I didn't notice," said the eyeball stupidly as it opened up its huge eye.

"You're a giant eyeball. How could you not notice?" said Smith sarcastically to his minion before adding in a calm whisper. "Have you noticed anything strange about the boy? Need for blood? Fire Hazard? Oprah obsession?"

"No sir. He's just depressed, I'd say. I have been able to infiltrate his trust and earned his friendship. It should make it easier to watch him now," whispered the eyeball with a squeal of joy as Smith nodded his head. Gibgit then discussed in full detail what Danny had said to him, Smith silently skimming the newspaper the whole time as he listened. Finally, the eyeball ran out of things to say and asked simply, "Master? What are we to do now? The boy doesn't have any of the signs you are looking for."

"I suppose we have to look elsewhere. That fire hazard is up to something even though I haven't run into any of his usual destruction ... nothing except the Fenton family that is. But what confuses me the most is why he let Danny live," said the man, folding his paper. "So, one thing is for certain, that trouble maker isn't done with that boy yet and I plan on catching him red-handed."

…

Two days had passed quickly enough, the world seeming to fill with warm colors besides grey. A promise of the future almost. Danny's anger had simmered down some, and Gibgit was one step above that of a house cat, pets and scratches available whenever he showed up. And yet the scars were still there and seemed intent on letting themselves be known, especially when Danny suddenly awoke from his slumber with a wail, the late-night silence disturbed. He was quickly pulling his injured arm close, biting back a sudden sharp pain. It felt like flames were biting at his flesh all over again.

"God… why… won't… these… pains… STOP!" cried the teenager as he doubled over in pain, curling into a ball under his covers.

Yet, as quickly as it came, it started to subsided and Danny's breath slowly returned to normal. "Good … it's over. Why are these pains still happening?"

Danny lifted up his shaking body, feeling the muscles tense up in his back. He still felt uneasy and put a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his stomach from turning. When the peace of his stomach returned, Danny decided to get some painkillers from the pretty nurse who worked the night shift. The covers were quickly thrown to the side and his feet landed on the cold flooring with a slap. He took two steps from his bed when a thousand fire hot needles pierced the flesh of his back, crushing his spinal cord with unimaginable pain. The teenager collapsed onto the floor in a huddle, his flesh making a smacking noise on the cold tiling. The boy whimpered slightly because he was unable to scream.

Feeling the tremors of pain run up his spine and lodge into the back of his skull, Danny managed to whisper through gasping breaths, "Please stop ... Please stop. I can't take this anymore."

And it did stop, just as a set of shoes appeared before him, the world fading into black splotches.

And yet, darkness's sweet void did not last forever. The teenager awoke in his bed what felt like days later, his mouth dry and his arm burning like holy fire. His eyes were gooey and exhausted, but with much persistence, he finally managed to open them completely.

Surprisingly, Vlad sat there limply on a chair beside the bed, his head tilted in a defeated manner. His white hair hung loosely around him, free to conceal his face almost entirely. The man didn't move or make a sound, not even the sound of breathing.

Danny almost laughed at the sight, thinking that Vlad only appeared when he was in pain, but quickly found he couldn't even make that sound. His lips wouldn't move.

Out of panic, Danny tried to sit up to see if maybe his lips had been sewn shut, but he couldn't even get a finger to twitch! None of his muscles were reacting to his commands.

This was so bad.

Trying not to panic, Danny continued to struggle against his unmoving body until his arm started to burn menacingly. Then it came. The same nerve crushing pain that ran up his arm earlier. The boy was finally able to move though, only to give in to pain's cruel caress. A wail escaped the boy, his good arm snapping onto his injured arm like a vice causing blood spots to form in the bandages.

Vlad immediately jumped to his feet in shock, his speed causing the chair he was sitting on to fall over. Standing still only long enough to take in the scene, the exhausted man leaned over Danny's bed railings and tried to free his arm, his mouth moving in words Danny couldn't comprehend currently. Pain was the boy's only friend right now.

One more painstaking cry escaped the youth's throat and then it was over. The episode was gone as quickly as it had come, his breathing broken and shaky as he waited for the dull throb to subside.

Vlad slowly took a shaky step back, overlooking the scene. He had had his personal jet fly here in a few hours after he got the call about Daniel's collapse. This would be the second attack Danny had since he had left. It certainly was horrible to witness. Why were these attacks even happening? Things had been going so well with Daniel and the castle and now … this.

Sighing in worry, Vlad slowly leaned down to eye level with Danny whose face now lay hidden in the recesses of his blankets. With great care, Vlad pushed the covers away from the younger halfa's face and peered at Danny's face. There were fresh tears there along with this gaze of fear. It stung Vlad's cold heart more than any mortal wound imaginable. He found his fatherly characteristics taking over, Maddie's soft voice echoing in his head as he pulled the whimpering boy into a hug, mindful of the injured arm.

Surprisingly, the teenager didn't press him away and Vlad sighed, thankful for that. A thousand heartbeats seemed to pass as Vlad murmured to the still shaking boy, "I hit the nurse's button. They will be here in a moment to give you more pain medication. Just remain calm and breathe."

A hiccup escaped the younger half-ghost as Danny choked, "Wh-why is this happening? I thought I was healing, but I'm not healing, am I? I'm dying, aren't I?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Daniel. Everything will be fine. I'm here and so are your doctors. You'll be just fine," said Vlad more to calm his inner worries then Danny's because he wasn't sure if the teenager was fine. After all, the first attack had just struck out of the blue and the new attacks just didn't make sense. He was gone for a few days and this happens. What is going on here?!

A moment later Dr. Webking stormed in, a sturdy nurse stomping behind him ready to hold Danny still long enough to give him the shot. Luckily the attack was over and his assistance was no longer needed, but the male nurse's expression was still dark as he turned to leave the doctor to his work … and an angry parent.

"What happened?! I thought you said the new medication would make the attacks stop!" barked Vlad. "It obviously didn't help!"

"But he did wake up. That is a good sign, Mr. Masters," said the plump doctor as he headed over to the readings. "There was real worry about him going into a coma."

Vlad's tone was almost a whisper as he pulled Danny into a little tighter grasp, trying to calm the boy's violent shudders. "Can't you at least do something for the pain then? The boy was withering in his bed."

The aging doctor took a deep breath and removed the plastic cover over the needle, the man eying the tip, "We can always try a drip. How bad was it?"

"It was quick but it seemed just as bad as the others," said the billionaire with a grim tone.

The doctor sighed at that, but he was prepared for bad news. Just another oddity to the boy that was Danny Fenton. He could only speculate that there had to be some type of chemical in the fire. The boy had technically lived in a lab after all. Who knew what damage they would find. Perhaps in being spared the fire, the boy had been given a worse fate.

Life was cruel that way.

XXX

Paw07: I swear I deleted three or four pages worth of content in this and rewrote the first half of the chapter. This chapter was a mess. Ugh, it was painful to go over and the title was ghastly. It used to be called 'Redecoration of the Soul'. Well, that title was done for at the beginning of the edit. Anyway, sorry for the slight choppiness but I didn't want to break this into multiple chapters. It would have messed with past review labels. Anyway, to the next chapter. Hopefully, it isn't as bad as this one was.

(Revisions July 2020)