Chapter 19: The Truth

Blood … it was everywhere when Danny finally met back up with Skulker. That warm life-giving liquid was dripping off the medical table and onto the lab's floor in rills. It was as if it was trying to escape death's cold grip. The only reason Vlad was still alive was probably because he was a half-ghost.

"Please make it stop," whispered Danny as he stood before the medical table Vlad was laid out on, Skulker and some nurse-ghost he had never met stalling the bleeding. He knew that Vlad apparently had other ghost employees, but to see a new one was something else entirely.

"And we are taking care of it, whelp. Now step back," growled Skulker, the ghost nurse murmuring instructions to him. He honestly had forgotten the White Lady was down here. She mostly kept to herself.

"… But is he going to be alright?" added the boy, a type of shock setting in as he watched the blood drip off the ghost's armor and onto the floor. He was bitterly trying to keep the panic out of his voice, but he had a feeling he was watching his godfather die.

"Standing there gawking will do nothing for him. Move," barked Skulker as he helped the White Lady rip open the halfling's shirt so she could get to the wounds below.

And so, Danny stood there looking like a pale rabbit.

Sighing, really looking at the boy, Skulker finally noticed that there was a bloodstain on the boy's arm bleeding through the fabric. It obviously was the boy's own blood. Immediately, Skulker grabbed the shaken teenager. He then all but dragged him across the room and into a separate observation room, forcing him to sit in a reclining medical chair.

"So, some of that blood is yours, huh whelp? Sit and put pressure on it," said the hunter, handing a gaze pad to the teenager. "I'll look at you in a bit."

Danny wanted to argue with the hunter, but Sparx was already in the room, reporting that the sinisters were gone. Danny knew this of course but didn't bother to say anything as the Roman ghost was assigned to watch him. So, he sat there and watched as the nurse-ghost worked on his godfather. Quietly, he tried not to dwell on why he had been spared.

…

It felt like forever for Skulker to come back to the little room where he had left Danny. The teenager had wanted to watch Vlad's care, but after a few minutes, he heard the soft even beat of a heart monitor.

He honestly didn't know how he felt about his godfather at this point. The fruit loop was taking care of him and somehow Danny hadn't given in to despair ... becoming Dan. Maybe it was because he could have revenge. Maybe it was because his powers were all fucked up. It could have been the fact that Lancer had lived for all he knew. But he was almost certain it was because he had someone he could emotionally cling to.

Metal footsteps echoing, Skulker came around the corner and stared down at the teenager.

"Got away nearly unscathed, didn't you?" was the first thing Skulker said, plucking the recently cut arm from the teenager. "You wouldn't think a frog would have medical expertise, but you'd be surprised what you pick up when you're in a lab trying not to be dissected."

Carefully, he lifted up the gauze pad, poking at the wound. Danny immediately hissed and nearly pulled his arm away before sarcastically asking, "Poking it is helping how?"

Skulker glared down at the kid before grumbling, "I was just seeing how deep it was, you whiny whelp. Now take off that ridiculous costumed shirt or roll up the sleeves so I can stitch that thing up."

With that, the hunter sat on one of those rolling stools and opened a nearby drawer, pulling out a few tools. It was kind of unsettling knowing that Vlad had a small hospital's worth of equipment in the mansion, but then again … Vlad was kind of a supervillain in some aspects. An evil lab packed with lots of medical equipment really shouldn't be that surprising.

Danny scooted away from the spirit slightly and tightened his grip on the medical chair's arm. He didn't want Skulker touching him, but he knew there was little choice. He didn't think he had the stomach to do his own stitches anyway and a hospital would ask questions. Nonetheless, he asked, "Are you sure it needs stitches? It didn't look that bad. Maybe just some large bandaids?"

Skulker already had the needle threaded and on a medical tray, antiseptic already being dabbed on a cotton swab. He raised a metallic brow at the teenager, "If all it took was some stitches and cotton swabs to defeat you whelp, I would have tried it long ago."

Beside himself, Danny's lip twitched in ill humor though he didn't try to rise to the bait.

"Do you expect to bleed all night then?" added Skulker, part of him more than willing to let the ghost-child be. He had a nightmare to clean up upstairs and didn't have time for the brat's pouting.

Collapsing farther into his seat, Danny tried not to pout, "Fine, just don't … poke me a lot. I'm sick of needles. I'm sick of the ache in my arm. I'm sick of being sick."

Frowning, his eyes traveling to the scarred arm, Skulker once again dwelled on the whelp … and what exactly had happened to his powers. Vlad had had terrible injuries before and though they did affect his ghostly abilities, never to the extent Daniel's seemed to be.

Nodding, taking the arm in hand, Skulker stared at the clean slice. It wasn't terribly deep, but it would scar. Cleaning it quickly, the smell of antiseptic filling the room, a few red-tinted cotton swabs were quickly placed on the metallic surgical tray, Daniel having only twitched twice.

Picking up the needle and surgical thread, Skulker gave the boy no warning except for a quick squeeze of his arm. He didn't nub the wound. The whelp knew pain. He was no stranger to it, and Skulker was not going to baby the boy either. That was Vlad's job now as the ghost child's adoptive father. Yes, father. Skulker could see the growing attachment. He was not blind.

"So, whelp," asked Skulker, his finely tuned metallic limbs quick and precise and nearly done. "Tell me … just how badly were your powers affected by your injuries in the fire? Can you transform at all?"

The teenager immediately tried to jerk away, his eyes widening in horror. Skulker snapped out and grabbed said arm with his free hand though, glaring and basically saying that he wasn't done yet. The child would have to sit here and listen. Only once he was sure the halfa wasn't going to flee, did the hunter release the arm, tone deadpanning, "Well? If you say nothing, it proves I am right."

Swallowing, his adams apple bobbing, Danny looked away from the metallic ghost, his tone almost a whisper, "My powers are fine. I just didn't use them at the gathering because ghosts would recognize Danny Phantom. I didn't need that kind of attention."

Humming, watching the teenager twitch as he finished the last stitch, the hunter asked, "Is that so? Well then, why didn't you call those powers forward to protect Vlad in the hall … or yourself for that matter, little halfa? Phantom isn't the type to go around collecting scars."

Rising to his feet, the teenager still refusing to look at him, Skulker wiped off his hands and murmured, "You may go, whelp. I am done. I'll take them out in a few days."

And yet, the teenager continued to sit there, glaring ahead like he wanted to say something or fight but couldn't. Finally, his jaw grinding like he was searching for the right words, the teenager spoke, "Please … don't tell him."

Raising a brow, knowing all too well what the teenager meant, Skulker asked, "Tell who what?"

Swallowing his pride, Danny whispered, "Please don't tell Vlad that … I'm … defenseless."

Huffing hot air out of his suit's vents, Skulker added, "Defenseless, not exactly. You did well this night. I wouldn't have been able to carry Plasmius and fight those beasts without you."

Bending over, getting his face near the boy's so that he could speak into his ear, Skulker hissed, "As for keeping your secrets child, next time I tell you to stay in a room, you will stay in a room. Next time Vlad removes you from the premises for your own safety, you will stay away. You will obey like a good underling, like a good son, or for security reasons I will be forced to speak with Plasmius about your … state. Do you understand?"

Fingers digging into the medical chair, wetness gathering in the corner of his eyes, slowly … Danny nodded. Swallowing repeatedly, Danny felt like he was choking on Skulker's demands.

"I didn't hear you, whelp?" added Skulker, his eyes gaining a ghostly light. "Speak up."

Swallowing again, obviously distressed with this whole conversation, Danny hung his head, whispering, "I … understand."

Standing up straight, no longer in the boy's breathing room, Skulker rumbled, "I'm glad we have an understanding, boy. Now, go up to your room and wash that ridiculous paint off. I will assign a guard for you and you will not give them any trouble. Understood?"

Jaw grinding, Danny slowly nodded before grounding out, "Understood."

Then, standing up, Danny fled the lab, holding back a stream of tears. He refused to cry in front of Skulker.

…

"So," came a cool and cold reply, Joed staring at his blackened nails as if he was uncaring. "Not only did you allow the older halfa to live, but you lost two of your brethren and damaged the boy. Sliced into him, did you?"

He hadn't even raised his voice, but the moment Joed looked up, the sinisters all whimpered and bowed their heads lower like simpering dogs.

Joed stood there a moment more flexing his fingers before he moved with unregistrable speed, smacking the sinister that had injured Daniel into a neighboring wall like he was swatting a fly. His calm persona was completely gone as he barked, "I should crush you! I should destroy all of you worthless meat bags on the spot."

The creatures all whined louder like well-trained dogs, all of them trying to get lower to the ground. They knew their place.

"We are sorry, Master. Please spare our brother," whispered the eyeless beast as he bowed lower to the ground, his head touching the floor. The other two sinisters quickly copied the submissive move as the same sinister continued, "We will try harder, Master. We will do better. Please forgive us."

The demon's eyes lost their intensity for a moment, though his hands were still fists as he stood over them. Only once he seemed appeased with their groveling did he turn away, his voice grinding, "Forgiveness must be earned. The only reason I'm letting you all continue to exist at all is because you were smart enough to note the child's condition. It's slow but steady. It will not be long now. Not long at all."

…

Skulker landed heavily on the ballroom floor, his eyes taking it all in. There were holes in the floors and walls, curtains were still smoking, and there were even statues missing their heads. And not one vase had been spared. Worst still, there were still ghosts lingering around like frightened villagers even though the beasts had long since departed and daybreak was almost upon them.

This whole Ghostly Gathering had been a debacle. Well, at least some of the higher-up ghosts of their committee were still around … even though it looked like Walker and Technus were about to add a few more holes to the walls.

"Ha! I would never be under Skulker's command and definitely not you. Maybe First in Command if that fool Plasmius kicks it. Who is more capable than me?" jeered the technology ghost as he taunted the wounded warden.

Walker's good hand become a fist and the next thing Skulker knew the warden slugged Technus across the face. Even mauled and handicapped, Walker was a spirit to be wary of. He didn't back down from his beliefs and upheld them almost to a fault.

Watching the fight unfold, Walker likely defended his place in the hierarchy, Skulker didn't interfere. He preferred Walker winning the little brawl, but the strongest is what he needed right now. If that was Technus, it would be Technus.

Instead, he noted one ghostly figure that wasn't watching the show of superiority: Clockwork.

The time ghost was half-hidden behind a de-headed statue. He was still in his middle-aged form even though Skulker knew that the ancient spirit had three forms. Rightfully named: past, present, and future. Clockwork being trapped in one form was disconcerting.

Walking over to the spirit, he stared at the broken staff as well, a series of questions mulling around in his mind, "Why do you sit there and do nothing, Clockwork? Are you not the herald of time? Why even have this ghostly gathering, especially if you knew this was all going to happen? Do our struggles and the destruction of the Ghost Zone humor you?"

Clock Work smiled bitterly as he stared at the staff for a moment more, his head finally turning to the hunter as he asked, "Do nothing? Did I not contact Plasmius and you?"

Skulker opened his mouth but snapped it shut as the old spirit continued, "Do you think time is a series of lines, hunter? A series of strings that can be cut and knotted where I please? It is not. It is a multitude of set unchangeable events that branch out from each other like complicated webs. To try and change a set event is to risk unraveling all the webs holding all of time together. For me to change an event carelessly, I risk collapsing this dimension. Time is not easily altered."

The hunter crossed his arms and snorted, "I've heard the rumor that you've done it before. Why is now so different, and why are you so sure that this is all a set event?"

The timekeeper sighed, his head hanging for a moment, "… I sometimes wonder if that was a mistake. I made that exception to spare both realms from a horrible fate, and now I wonder if I just delayed the inevitable. Perhaps the world was always meant to be tormented by a monster."

Skulker shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head as he added, "Can't you at least give us more of a fighting chance? Perhaps a warning of the future? I'm not really into that crystal ball shit, but if it keeps me and those in my territory in one piece, I'll take it."

Shaking his head, waving at himself and his staff, the timekeeper added, "As you can tell, I am without my tool and clocktower. My form is also stuck in the present. I am at the mercy of the current events as much as anyone, but … I can tell you one thing about the future."

Leaning in slightly, like an all-knowing being about to impart a prophecy, Clockwork pointed where Walker and Technus had just been fighting, "If that fire isn't put out, the whole castle is going to go up in flames."

His head snapping in that direction, Skulker immediately barked, "PUT OUT THAT FIRE NOW OR I'LL HAVE YOUR HIDES!"

Clockwork, leaning back, chuckled to himself as he watched Skulker continue to yell. For the first time, in a very long time, he didn't know the fate of the world. It terrified him slightly but at the same time, he knew he shouldn't be surprised. Time bowed to no man or spirit, not even him. And yet, it was only man and spirit that could even acknowledge that time existed at all.

Staring at his staff, he wondered how much a broken clock could help before muttering to himself, "Well, a broken clock is right two times a day."

…

Skulker couldn't help but note that there was still the faint scent of blood in the lab. He immediately went silent to make sure the life monitor was still beeping steadily. It beeped softly along with a soft clicking of metal.

Raising a brow in question, he entered the lab and immediately zoned in on the medical slab. Pillows and a blanket had been added for the billionaire's comfort. The clicking in question was coming from the chair placed next to the man … the White Lady was seated there. Her head was down and all her concertation was on the knitting needles in hand. What looked like a sweater was quickly taking shape.

Skulker watched her for a moment, confused. The woman finally stalled as if feeling his gaze. Her head shot up loosening the bun that was keeping her ghostly hair back. Those milky white eyes met his eyes, and he couldn't tell if she was surprised or not. Her medical mask hid the bottom part of her face as always. Skulker personally wondered if her mouth was sewn shut because she never took it off and barely said a word in his presence. She obviously had died a violent death.

The White Lady quickly hid whatever she was knitting and floated to her feet, hovering a few inches above the floor. She nodded her head slightly as if acknowledging him and then disappeared, leaving the chair open for him.

Walking stiffly forward, Skulker made his way to the chair. He flopped into it gracelessly and watched the monitors for a minute before a set of blue eyes managed to pry themselves open.

Vlad lay there groggily, the mask over his face making it impossible to speak. With a groan, he managed to will one of his arms up, pulling the mask down so he could speak. Skulker interjected before the halfa could even form his first words.

"You should leave that on. Remember, you're still half alive. Being a halfling doesn't solve all of your problems."

Vlad merely waved off the comment and spoke, already feeling exhausted., "Is-is D-Daniel alright?"

Skulker sat there in contemplation, one hand hiding his mouth as if he was arranging his words mentally before he spoke, "The whelp's fine. Just a scratch… though he deserves a black eye. I told him to stay in your office. And what does he do instead? Jump into the thick of things."

Vlad tried to laugh but all that did was cause pain to ripple through his form. Despite himself, his eyelids flickered shut and his head sank back against the pillows. He could already feel every breath pulling at his stitches. He just wanted to rest, but as always, business came first.

Gathering himself again, the pain falling into a dull ache, Masters opened his eyes and spoke in a whisper. The hunter had to lean over to hear the weak man's voice. "I expect … nothing less … from that … boy … Will you … please … do something … for me."

Wearily, the hunter nodded his head. If it was what Vlad wanted on his headstone, especially if it had something to do with the Packers, Skulker was going to slap him, blood loss or not. He needed the halfa alive right now if he hoped to keep the Ghostly Council together long enough to solve their problems.

"Please … keep an eye … on Daniel … Make sure … none of the other … ghosts … get their hands on him, because," Vlad took a weary breath, "… I believe … something is very wrong … with his powers. They're either weak … or gone … I don't know which ... Please keep an eye … on him … while I recover."

Skulker drew back in surprise. He was amazed that Vlad had come to the same conclusion. "When did you figure it out? I made my final conclusion last night when he used one of your anti-ghost weapons instead of his own powers."

The bachelor laughed weakly as a small tired smile came to his lips. "I had a … suspicion for a while now. Besides … Daniel's a terrible liar. I know he's been … keeping things … from me. That boy's secrets … are going to get … him killed."

The hunter huffed in agreement. "I agree. That whelp is hiding something. You can smell it on him like a frightened animal. Nonetheless, I'll keep him away from the rest of the committee. I'll make sure he's fed, watered, medicated, and taunted in the required doses. Now stop talking, your body needs to rest so you can heal quickly. We don't need any other ghost knowing how injured you are. I'm not in the mood for a power play, and the situation is already dire enough the way it is."

Vlad nodded his head weakly allowing his head to collapse into his pillows. He then closed his eyes and continued, "Any that try will regret it … and thank you Skulker … for looking out for Daniel … he's ... the son ... I've ... always wanted."

The hunter nodded his head, sitting there silently as he dwelled on the nature of things.

…

Danny pulled at his door for what felt like the millionth time that day. It had been four days since the Ghostly Gathering and Skulker hadn't once let him out of his room. Yes, it wasn't complete torture. He was fed three times a day and had regular visits by the more trusted underlings, but he wanted out! He wanted to see what was going on. He wanted to go outside and raid the fridge. And, honestly, he wanted to make sure the old fruit loop was okay. There had been so much blood.

The teenager gave one more desperate tug on the door before he pounded his fist on the thick wood, barking out, "Skulker! Let me out! I want out. O.U.T. Out, you walking tin can!"

He was sure that someone was out there, watching his door like usual. He swore he saw movement when he peeked through the keyhole.

Pounding on the door once more, he finally grew frustrated enough to kick at it … and immediately regretted it as he stubbed his toe. The string of curses that followed his hopping form to the nearest chair was indeed colorful.

And that seemed to be the secret phrase to finally get the door open.

The door swinging open, Walker stood there with his arm still bound and looking as beat up as ever, though his current visage didn't stop him from sneering down at the teen. "Watch your tongue, punk. I don't care if you are Plasmius' charge. I will wash your mouth out with soap."

Danny frown. He partially wanted to test the theory, but he had a feeling that the rule monger would literally wash his mouth out with soap, and Skulker would allow it. He just wanted out of the room and a bloody pop tart or something. Junk food had not been part of his feedings.

"Walker," grumbled Daniel as he crossed his hands over his chest, trying to look dignified despite the ridiculous pajamas he had on. "How's guard duty? Handling the demotion well? Where's your new boss? I'm sure he's a bit of a toad."

"Is that why you wanted me in here so bad? To practice your juvenile excuse for wit?" grumbled Walker as he placed a tray on the small table in the room. "Now, consume this fruit-covered oatmeal and take your pills. Per Skulker's orders."

Daniel's lips tilted into a sneer. "I'd rather die than have oatmeal again. Why can't I just go downstairs and pick my own breakfast? Skulker's trying to starve me. It's called a pop-tart. And is it really such a surprise I want to know what the hell is going on outside?! What happened to the attackers and is Vlad ok?"

Giving the halfa a bland look, like this was the stupidest conversation in the whole world, Walker groused, "… I'm done with the conversation. I deal with enough juvenile behavior from ghosts that I refuse to be around an actual juvenile. You'll get information when you've earned it. For now, eat your oatmeal. I'm leaving. The guard won't come in unless they think you're actually dead."

Danny, realizing that he probably wasn't getting out of this room until Vlad was well enough, suddenly dashed around Walker and towards the door. He was going crazy town banana pants. He needed out and he also needed to at least check on Vlad. Furthermore, Eggos were acceptable if there were no pop-tarts available.

Walker, seeing what was happening, lashed out with his good arm and grabbed Daniel by the back of his shirt. The teenager made a choking noise as he was tugged backward. The teen didn't even have time to wiggle away before he was harshly thrown into the chair next to the small table, Walker grabbing his arm and squeezing in a warning.

"You listen to me, boy. You are trapped in here because you cannot obey directives or listen to the rules. In fact … I doubt you can even defend yourself," growled Walker, squeezing the arm a little harsher. "Can you?"

Danny gasped and tried to pull his arm away, but Walker's grip just got tighter and tighter until Danny went limp and barked, "I yield!"

Frown deepening, Walker finally let go, watching the halfa jerk away and protectively curled around his good arm. That was likely to bruise, but for the safety of everyone, the brat needed to learn his place.

"So, I guess it's true," growled the warden. "You are powerless."

Lifting his head, his bangs in his eyes, Daniel replied defiantly, "I'm fine. You just caught me off guard."

Walker raised a brow as if saying he didn't believe him.

In turn, Danny glared before looking away, his voice breaking as he whispered, "… Just leave. You made your point. And take the oatmeal with you. I'm not hungry anyway."

The warden did not leave though. Instead, he pushed the tray closer to the teenager and growled, "Eat your breakfast and obey the rules. No one's telling you anything because you're obviously too immature to deal with it. And, as you are now, there is nothing you can do anyway."

Swallowing, not wanting to tear up even though his eyes were starting to feel wet, Danny quickly wiped at his eyes and growled, "I am not a child … and I just … I just want to know how Vlad's doing. Alright? Sitting in here all day is maddening! I need answers. I need … I need something more than this deafening silence."

Despite himself, knowing that if Walker wanted him dead he would have done it already, Danny put his hands over his face and sat there in silent distress. He needed to talk to Vlad. He needed to ask for forgiveness after going to the gathering when he said he wouldn't. It was his fault he got hurt so bad, distracting him in battle. He also needed to tell the truth. Hell … he just needed someone to give him a hug.

Walker watched the little punk for a moment more before he sighed and sat down across from him at the small table. "Come on kid. No need for a breakdown. Skulker said not to bother you with the details. You're ill, right? Eat, take a nap, write in your diary, read a book or have a good cry if you must, but you are a child. Maybe you should act like it sometimes."

Lowering his hands, his eyes red-rimmed, Danny swallowed thickly and then basically begged, "Children aren't burdened like this, Walker. I need answers. I need something … Please."

The warden rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he eyed the boy. The punk was cracking. There was no fear in this kid anymore … only pain and desperation. He was obviously burying it all inside and now he was drowning in it. The halfa was closer to a ghost than he knew. Sorrow and regrets are what bind a soul to this world after all.

Patting the teen on the shoulder, Walker turned to leave, "Eat, take your medicine, and get some rest, kid. It's not a request and you know how I am about the rules. Do as you're told. You will get information only if you are good."

And with that, Walker left, leaving the teenager with as many questions as he had before.

Despite himself, appetite dead, Danny pushed his breakfast away as he wiped his eyes again. He then crawled into bed without a word and told himself not to cry. Tears never got you anywhere … and yet, since it seemed like he wasn't going anywhere and was completely helpless at the moment, what harm was there in weeping?

Burying his head in his pillows, Danny allowed himself to weep. In the back of his mind, he even started to wonder if this was his downward spiral into becoming Dan. And if it was … would Dan kill the demon for him before promptly destroying the world? He'd have his revenge, right? Why should he care about the rest of the world? He had done so much only to end up like this: powerless and burdened.

For a moment, he almost wanted to watch the world burn.

…

Technus, meanwhile, was floating down the hallway looking for Plasmius' secret laboratory. He really wanted to upgrade himself, but that huntsman barely allowed him a free moment to wander. The second he had looked away though, Technus was gone … towards the wing where the private bedrooms were apparently. After all, that was the way Walker had gone.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, my little electric beauties."

…

Danny was as still as the dead in his bed, tears still drying on his cheeks when a vision took him. Unlike the others, it was different. It was fuzzy and pieces were missing, like a jigsaw puzzle with lost parts, but it was a vision just the same. The teenager gripped his blanket tightly, trapped in the sequence as he lingered somewhere between sleep and awake:

"Don't touch those gates! I will not warn you again."

The Demon, dressed in fiery red armor, turned around to behold a dark figure clad in flowing black fabric, glints of silver armor showing through every few moments as a wind seemingly blew from nowhere. The black figure was floating there like a shadow pinned to the sky.

The demon smirked, a flaming sword being drawn … only to stall when the black figure lifted his arm and revealed a maiden's head. Her mouth was frozen in a scream, eco-blood dribbling down one side of her gaping jaw. She had obviously been beheaded.

"You beheaded Eris?! …How dare you! Why?!" the demon spread his flaming arms outward, casting light over the blackened and smoky void, "For your kingdom?! Tartarus would be nothing without me … It doesn't even need you to exist. Know this ... your death will not be swift, uncle."

With that, the flaming figure pulled a blazing sword from his belt and shifted into a fighter's stance. It was a challenge as he waited for the black figure, his very uncle, to attack.

The figure nodded to the challenge, throwing the female's head at the demon's feet as he revealed his own weapon, a scythe-like blade. His voice was angry and echoing yet strangely cold like he was no stranger to the dead and the dying. "So, you want to kill me like you killed the rest of our kind? Little surprise there. How else could you forever leave the gates of the underworld open? What do you think you will gain by doing such a thing anyway?"

The demon's smirk could be seen under his helmet as he glanced at the dead three-headed dog behind him. Its blood and ectoplasm seeped across the black ground and towards his sandals like a pool.

Waving his hand at the dead beast, the demon boomed, "This is what I want?! I want blood and chaos. I want to lavish in the misery and pain it wroths. I WANT WAR! I'm tired of these puny little human wars! I want the ultimate war! I want the spirits of the dead to fight!"

The demon then threw his head back laughing in near hysteria.

Black flames and smoke rose from behind the black-clad figure, a frown showing under his helm. Slowly, he lifted a golden box out from under his billowing cloak, his words almost remorseful, "Then I'm sorry to say this. I will miss you nephew, but you have brought this on yourself."

The dark figure then revealed the box to his nephew, the golden thing seemingly coming with its own illumination.

"… You make to defeat me with a box?" the fiery being asked mockingly.

"You should know what this is and what's in it, nephew... Your father made it after all," murmured the dark figure as he ran his bone-like fingers over the golden top, tracing the symbols there. "This will be your eternal prison. Now … may Zeus forgive me."

With that, the black-clad figure raised the lid, the demon screaming a curse he was sucked into the box with a rage-filled cry, his words echoing in the void. "I'll be back the day a mortal's hand awakens me! And I don't care if I have to use those very same human hands to end you. I will end you, dog of the underworld!"

Danny was ripped from the vision with a gasp, sweat pooling down his back. For a moment he sat there, panting as confusion settled in. What was that vision about? And what had woken him up? He had heard something, hadn't he? Did it sound like … a chuckle?

Immediately, feeling like someone was watching him, Danny looked up and felt his stomach sink.

"Oh no," whispered Danny to himself as he met the gaze of Technus, the ghost giving a finger wave down at him as he floated over the boy and his bed.

"Well, hello, ghost child. Heard a rumor that you were out of commission, and you know what they say about old tech … it's always great for spare parts!" cackled the ghost as he pointed a plasma blast at Danny's head.

Eyes going wide, the teenager barely jumped out of the bed in time not to lose his head. Instead, his bed was blown to pieces, a cloud of feathers suddenly filling the room. Technus was immediately coughing as feathers got in his face and nose. He swiped at them as if they were annoying insects, cursing the plumage. Danny, in turn, blamed this entire event on Skulker as he army-crawled across the floor. His dream was all but forgotten as he tried to think of a way out of this room that didn't involve him becoming a ghost permanently.

...

Skulker sighed and finished digging through the cabinet as Walker finished his report. The warden giving the status on Danny.

"So, the whelp wasn't hungry and seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. Just wonderful. I don't have the energy to deal with that on top of everything else right now," grumbled Skulker to himself as he turned to face his temporary underling. "And he hates oatmeal? Seems like a good reason to keep him eating it. Plus, it's health for the living or some other nonsense."

Walker eyed the hunter questionably as he took a seat in the huge industrial kitchen. Skulker was so busy with the rest of the committee in Plasmius' stead that it was surprising that he found time to deal with the little punk at all, even if it was only telling trusted committee members to watch the boy and make sure he was fed.

Despite himself, Walker couldn't stop thinking about the boy after leaving his room. Never had the half-child seemed so vulnerable. It brought into question what exactly led up to such a drastic change in behavior. Walker couldn't help but ask, "The child's parent died in a fire, correct?"

"Yes, it should be common knowledge because it destroyed the ghost portal in Amity Park. A shame. I needed to get a book about a gorilla," said Skulker, his voice full of dry humor.

Walker gave the hunter a confused glance, but when Skulker didn't elaborate, he continued with his inquiry, "Do you think the fire was an accident?"

Walker had been dwelling on it since he found out the halfa was under Plasmius' territory. He had long since learned that there were rarely coincidences in this world. Danny's accident, his lack of powers, and the dog-soldiers halting in their attack. Things grew more elaborate when Skulker mentioned speaking with a traveling spirit and a marked child. What exactly did 'marked' entail? Was it a birthmark? A tattoo? A curse? A burn?

Walker was ripped from his thoughts and how to address his theories when Skulker spoke again, the hunter turning a stovetop on and watching the flame for a moment. "I know it wasn't."

"Why do you think that?" asked Walker carefully as he watched the flame dance on the stovetop.

Sighing, Skulker irritably admitted, "It's just a feeling … Everything feels like it's too much of a coincidence. Plus, the ghost-child has been hiding something about the fire since he got here. Plasmius has his suspicions, but the whelp has yet to spill the beans."

Frown deepening, an unsettling feeling forming in his gut, Walker was about to turn this into a collaborative think tank when suddenly an explosive boom echoed throughout the house, all the glass china shaking in the kitchen a second later.

The two spirits shared a look but before either of them could go investigate, the sound of running feet and a familiar voice sounded outside of the room, "Quit squirming child! It'll be a swift death. I promise. Ha, ha, ha!"

The two spirits shared a knowing look but before either one could react, a familiar teenager's scream echoed outside the kitchen. "Gaaaaahhhh!"

Skulker immediately slammed his palm down on the stovetop, growling to himself as he turned off the flame, "I knew a week was asking too much. That bloody whelp just couldn't stay in his room if his life depended on it ... Which it does. Half of the committee members want him dead. I should leave him to learn the hard way."

"I won't protest if you don't?" said Walker as he tried not to smile as he rose from his seat. This reminded him of work, some kind of fight always breaking out. Now all he needed was a baton.

"Plasmius would be disappointed, and trust me there's nothing more infurating than watching that man pout," grumbled Skulker as they both walked to the door. Walker had barely stuck his head out into the hallway only to have it almost taken off by a plasma blast! The warden quickly pulled his head back in as a second blast took off his hat.

Danny, right outside of the kitchen, slid past the closing door and quickly hid behind a suit of medieval armor. Apparently, he hadn't hidden fast enough because a green plasma blast slammed into the armor causing it to fall apart. The teenager's eyes became the size of saucers as his hiding place topple to the floor with a resounding clang.

Technus cackled as he drew closer to his target, Danny basically backed in a corner.

The teen, his back hitting a wall, closed his eyes as if bracing for the end when suddenly a white-gloved hand materialized out of the wall beside him and pulled him backward. Danny wasn't even given time to scream before he found himself hanging there like a captured kitten, Walker holding him by the back of his shirt like he had scruff. Skulker was merely standing there before him, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the teenager.

"Oh hi, guys," said Danny stupidly. "Fancy seeing you both here. I'd ask why you had me saved, but that sentence just sounds all kinds of wrong."

Skulker didn't even get to reply though when the cackle of Technus outside caused Walker to title his head, lip twitching. "Can you deal with this? I have a ghost to ask about a hat."

The hunter merely waved off the white-clad spirit, stating, "Have at it. Just don't blow up anything important."

Walker nodded before dropping Danny like a stone, whisking himself away through a wall. The teen yipped at the rough landing and immediately started rubbing his backside, tears of pain gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"I see you got out of your room, halfling. Perhaps I should put you in a smaller cage next time," ground out Skulker, walking forward to pluck Danny from the floor.

The teen merely waved the ghost off, mulishly getting to his own feet and dusting himself off before he ground out, "You can blame Technus for that. He blasted the door open, but since I'm standing here speaking to you anyway, I have some questions."

Raising a brow, knowing that look of determination, the hunter asked simply, "If it's about Vlad, he's still recovering. Or, If it's about the dog creatures, you haven't the power to be concerned about them and should leave it to the committee."

Wincing at the powerless jab, the teen squared his jaw and stated, "I want to Vlad."

"What part of recovering needs to be enunciated, runt?" asked Skulker as he headed back to the oven, needing to perform some destressing if he wanted to keep from killing anyone. "And what could be so important that it cannot wait?"

Teeth almost grinding, hating that he had been degraded to a runt, Danny painfully admitted, "I need to talk to him," Skulker hadn't even turned around, meaning he didn't care; so the teen continued, "It's something I've been keeping from him ... and I think it might have something to do with the attack on the castle."

Skulker couldn't keep the surprise from his face as he fully turned around, raising a brow as he asked, "And I don't suppose you'd be inclined to tell me instead."

Raising his chin, pride refusing to let him hang his head, Danny sternly replied, "No."

…

"You don't have to lead me like a stray dog," grumbled Danny as he tried to shake off Skulker's hand, the ghost having phased them both through the floor and all the way down to the labs.

Skulker ignored the whelp's whining and gave him a sturdy push towards Vlad's medical bed, the White Lady already floating away. Danny, watching the white-clothed ghost disappear through a wall, stood there for a moment staring. He suddenly felt clammy and weak-willed. He didn't want to talk about this ... because then it became that much more real. And then, the truth fully realized, would Dan come? Would he crawl into Danny's head and turn his soul dark?

"What's wrong?" grumbled Skulker as he leaned against a nearby wall, eyeing the teenager. "He's injured and exhausted, not dead. Go talk to him."

Danny glared over his shoulder and then rubbed his hands together nervously. He knew that Skulker knew he was helpless. And if Skulker knew … that meant that Vlad knew automatically.

Swallowing thickly, the teenager spoke over his shoulder, "I want to speak to him alone."

Skulker's glare told Danny he didn't trust him alone with Vlad, but then a hand rose up from the bed and seemed to wave Skulker away. It was a weak action, but it also made it very obvious that Vlad was conscious … and that this was the end of the road.

Pushing himself away from the wall, Skulker gave the teenager a nod before sinking through the floor. Thus, Danny was left to his guilt and the man he had to confess it to. Slowly, his feet feeling heavy, Danny made his way to the bedside. He honestly wanted to run away, the air suddenly feeling too thick to even breathe.

Nonetheless, before the teenager could truly dwell on retreating, he was at Vlad's bedside. The man's eyes were barely open, slits that showed he was exhausted. Even with Vlad being weak like this, Danny didn't want to admit his helplessness and victimhood.

Swallowing thickly, Danny slowly sat down in the chair located next to his godfather's bed. He immediately released a shaking breath as Vlad continued to stare at him with those knowing eyes. Despite himself, if only for a minimal amount of comfort, Danny pulled his knees into his chest so that he no longer had any contact with the cold floor, his slippers having been lost in the chase earlier. What should he say? Where should he even begin?

Not knowing what else to do, his throat feeling tight and constricting, Danny buried his head in his knees so that his voice came out muffled and weak. He didn't want to let Vlad hear these words, for that matter himself, but he had nearly gotten Vlad killed with his secrets. It was time to tell the truth.

"I'm sorry Vlad. This was all my fault. I should have listened to you, spoken with you, but I didn't," finally said Danny as he raised his head out of his knees, his gaze on the floor because he was completely unable to look Vlad in the eye. "I should have told you the truth when you asked, but I didn't. I should have told you that I'm the reason m-mom … dad … Jazz … Tucker … and Sam are all dead. I wasn't strong enough to protect them from that thing."

Danny's voice rose in volume, his tone angry and desperate, "I wasn't strong enough to protect them from that demon when it came out of the Ghost Portal! If I would have had the strength that night of the fire, everyone would be okay and the Ghost Zone probably wouldn't be collapsing!"

The teenager went silent for a moment and then continued in a whisper, "Even you would have been okay because that demon's dogs, the sinisters, would have never been around to attack you. The demon hates me, not you. I should have told you about him ages ago. And then there's the issue with my powers … They aren't working. I've been helpless these last few months. I don't know if it's my health or if the demon did something to me."

At that, Danny felt his throat tighten and he was unable to speak. He could feel it coming, the first tears … the dam had broken. And then it was over. He just broke down completely, his sobbing deep and desperate. He felt like he was dying inside. He finally managed to choke out what he truly came there for and now he couldn't keep it together. He couldn't even look Vlad in the eye.

Danny wasn't sure how long he sat there sobbing like a lost child before he noticed that there was a hand outstretched from the bed, Vlad willing him to take it. Needing an anchor, something to ground him to this world, Danny took it, his sobbing calming down enough to finally notice that Vlad was trying to speak through his breathing mask.

"Daniel … calm down … This isn't your fault… and don't … ever say it was again," came Vlad's exhausted words, his tone tired yet full of determination.

Danny finally lifted his head out of his knees and really looked up at his godfather. The older half-ghost looked so very tired and yet he continued to hold Danny's hand.

"… Vlad. I don't know what to do," choked the teenager. He felt like he was seven again, exhausted yet too afraid to sleep in his own room. "Can I just … stay down here?"

Nodding, Vlad shifted slightly to make more room in his medical bed as if he knew exactly what the teenager was thinking. He then motioned for the teen to crawl in.

Not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, Danny crawled into the bed like a sobbing child and buried his head in the crook of Vlad's shoulder. Vlad instinctively rubbed the teenager's shoulder, whispering something comforting behind his breathing mask.

And there they remained, the two stealing comfort from each other as Danny's soft sobbing echoed in the lab. Vlad's tired voice mixed with the soft hiccups until they both started to fall into an exhausted slumber.

"It's okay Daniel … Everything's going to be okay… Go ahead and cry ... I'll always be here."

XXX

Paw07: Danny finally told Vlad the truth … maybe not all the truth, but the truth just the same. The truth can set you free.

Edit: Well, this chapter was originally about 10,200 words long and I knocked it down to 8,200. Man, I must have been really angry as a teenager. There was just so much swearing. My new stories don't even have a fraction of that much swearing in them. Anyway, just polished up some of the characterizations, but the scenes are mostly the same. Vlad wasn't quite as mauled in this version though.