Walking down the stone steps of Casper High, Buster sighed heavily. It had been an excruciatingly long day, the last few minutes seemed to drag on forever. For a moment he had convinced himself that time had stopped.

But, when the bell officially rang, instead of the joy he had been anticipating, dread made a home in the pit of his stomach. Now he would have to face Danny and he didn't know if he could.

Dragging his feet towards the sidewalk, he noticed a large crowd gathered in the field. He couldn't tell what all the uproar was about, but there was someone yelling at the center, enticing a steady chant. With his curiosity piqued, he pushed his way through the crowd.

A large man dressed entirely in orange stood tall, shouting through a megaphone, something he didn't really need. His deep voice boomed in anger. "Down with the Guys in White! Down with the Guys in white!" The people around him steadily chanting along, probably in support of Phantom rather than Danny.

Buster couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by the man. Watching him jumping up and down parading around the center, he wondered how someone like Danny could be related to him. Sure, Danny was strong and scary in his own way, but he somehow managed to appear non-threatening if you didn't pay much attention to him. However, considering who his mother was, it started to make a little more sense.

The Fenton's were odd, he had never seen parents act like that back in Elwood city. If he had, he would probably have claimed they were aliens. But he liked them, they always seemed to do what they wanted. Happy in their own right, just the way Buster wanted to live.

The looks on their faces today though, so different from their regular expressions, disturbed him.

Maddie put her hand on Jack's shoulder, whispering something into his ear. He instantly stopped yelling and handed her the megaphone.

"You are all probably here to protest the loss of your hero," she began, her voice strong and steady, "but everyone seems to have forgotten that someone else has gone missing along with that putrid ghost. Our baby boy, Danny Fenton." The crowd grew silent, everyone knew about the rumors. Most assumed they were true.

Wiping a silent tear of off her cheek, "He's just a small sixteen year old child, he doesn't deserve this. He is sweet, kind and caring. He isn't capable of hurting anyone," she reasoned desperately hoping someone would listen to her. "No one is looking for him…The police claim their hands are tied thanks to those horrible GIW," her voice shook, anger flashing in her eyes. Closing them, she took a deep breath, "If anyone knows anything, please come forward…he hasn't slept in his bed for two nights," she choked, "I just want my son back."

Listening to her break down into her husband's shoulder, Buster's heart broke. He knew exactly how they felt. The gripping fear of not knowing where, how or why. He hated that he had the power to make their pain go away but could do nothing about it. How could Danny do this to them? It was cruel to put anyone through that sort of agony.

Unable to stand the sight of the distressed couple any longer, he shifted his eyes and landed on Sam and Tucker. He hadn't seen them since they were called away to the office. He successfully avoided them at lunch, not feeling up to another awkward stare down. Opting instead to loiter around, idly searching for Wes. He was a little relieved to find that the boy hadn't shown up.

Sam instantly looked away, giving him the cold shoulder. Buster couldn't understand what it was that he did wrong, but chose to ignore it. He had other problems. Tucker, on the other hand, met his gaze and nodded towards him in greeting with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. They appeared just as guilty as he felt.

Tucker moved from his spot in the crowd and attempted to comfort Mrs. Fenton. Buster couldn't make out the conversation but he saw her smile sadly at him, nod and walk back to their vehicle. Jack watched after her, straightened himself up, cleared his throat, and resumed his protest.

The crowd eagerly joined in, the teens of Amity always ready for demonstration. Sam held up a huge poster, and screamed along with them, looking right at home. Buster scratched his head and wondered what good this all would do. There was no one around to listen, no one to really help. Sure he has participated in his own fair share of protests, but this was different. It was complicated, Buster just couldn't understand it.

Through all the chaos, no one noticed as a familiar air craft that had been obscuring their view of the blue sky suddenly changed course. Only seconds later several other aircrafts from different directions all began speeding towards one area. Everyone, other than Buster, ignored the collective whooshing overhead, merely increasing their volume.

He shifted around and stared after them, his eyebrows scrunched, squinting through the sun. His breath caught in his throat when he realized where they were headed.

Towards Wes's neighbourhood. Towards Danny.

That couldn't be a coincidence.

Trying to stay calm, he backed up slowly, only bumping into a few people as he escaped the crowd. Rubbing his shoulder from a particularly nasty elbow jab, he noticed Tucker watching him. There was an unreadable look in his eyes, Buster realized he had noticed the GIW too.

But Tucker didn't know where Danny was, and he wasn't supposed to. He couldn't tell him. Did it matter now? They had found him didn't they?

Swallowing, he pushed the thoughts away. He didn't have time. Swiftly, he turned and mounted the sidewalk, away from Tucker, feeling his eyes on his back.

Once he was far enough away, he picked up the pace. He had to get there fast, but he was no match for aircrafts. He didn't know what he planned on doing, he wasn't much help if he couldn't warn them before the agents got there. He didn't even know Wes's number. So he did all he think of doing; he ran.

They were going to get there first. He crossed his fingers that Danny and Wes would somehow be alright.

Something in his gut told him not to keep his hopes up.

People gave him odd looks, scoffing and muttering as he pushed past them. He figured he looked like a lunatic running wildly down the streets. Nothing he wasn't used to really. He didn't care.

His lungs burned, begging him to stop. He needed his inhaler, his body couldn't handle the stress. But he wouldn't listen, his mind had detached itself. It was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Mrs. Fenton needed her son back.

He looked up at the sky, he couldn't see them anymore. The sky was silent, as if it were just an ordinary day. His pace slowed down slightly in momentary confusion. They had probably landed, he concluded. His heart sped up along with his feet at the thought. What were they going to do? Were they trying to finish him off? He thought about stopping, calling the police. But he couldn't, they wouldn't help.

He would have to do this alone. Completely alone. And he didn't even know what it was that he was doing. Saving Danny? But how?

He should have told Tucker, he should have told the Fentons. He should have even told Dash, anyone would have been better than no one. He felt small, scrawny and stupid. There were dozens of planes, did he really think he could fight them off? He hadn't ever been in a fight before, the only thing that came in mind was the time he flipped Sue Ellen…and she wasn't even trying. For all he knew, the GIW would just shoot him on sight. What's another dead kid on their hands?

He wished Phantom would come back.

His frantic thoughts were abruptly interrupted by another solid whoosh, but this time it was much louder. He stopped suddenly, hands on his knees as he panted for air. He still had a few more blocks left. They were turning back? Maybe Danny and Wes saw them and hid, maybe it was a false alarm.

Just as relief began to flood his oxygen deprived body, he noticed a single aircraft lagging behind the rest. The others had flown over him and were quite a distance away, but this one had yet to pass. It almost looked like it was being held back, sputtering in spot. Struggling to move forward. Something was up.

He stood, curiously gazing up at the malfunctioning machine and spotted something strange.

Frost.

Building on the windshield. Encompassing the wings.

It was still considerably cold outside, but not enough to flash freeze and entire aircraft.

The longer he stared, the more the crystals grew, the slower the flying vehicle got. It had to have only been seconds, but to Buster it felt like forever. It was mesmerizing, watching the ice build, delicately fold over every corner.

It took him a moment to realize that not only had it suddenly picked up speed, but it was also getting bigger. Feeling the imaginary effect of the magical ice, he couldn't get himself to move. He stood frozen to the ground, mouth agape, watching as the aircraft plummeted out of the sky.

Directly towards him.

Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to move, he had time. Just run into the alley. But he was paralyzed in fear. He couldn't comprehend what was happening. People around him screamed as they ran, but no one turned and gave him a second glance.

Every man for himself.

He saw two familiarly dressed men eject out of their seats, parachuting down, and frantically yelling into their communication device moments before impact. He let his eyes slip shut, accepting his fate.

Maybe he'd finally see his mom again.

He felt a strong force at the side of his body, the air was pushed out of his lungs as he was swept off his feet, flying into the sky.

Not more than a nanosecond later, the sound of the crash overwhelmed his senses. Ears ringing by his close proximity. However, there was no pain.

Confused, he opened his eyes, staring straight into glowing green ones.

"Are you insane?!" The ghost shrieked. Buster could do nothing but blink back at him. Where had he come from?

"I thought I told you to stay away until this was all over?" he screamed again in frustration, keeping his eyes forward as they soared at an ungodly speed over the buildings. He didn't look so good. His skin appeared paler than usual, eyes slightly dimmed, his face was covered in soot. Buster didn't know ghosts could get sick.

"You didn't tell me to do anything, I haven't seen you for over a week. Where were you?" He replied, finally getting his bearings back.

Phantom rolled his eyes, "Well Danny told you to stay away didn't he? Why didn't you just listen? Now they're gonna go after you too," he scolded, completely ignoring Buster's question. Buster bit his lip, flinching at the harsh tone and decided to let it go, it probably had to do with whatever Danny couldn't tell him.

"Did you freeze the plane?" he tried instead.

Phantom breathed in deeply. "Yeah…I didn't see you. I wasn't thinking, I was just trying to get free." He looked scared, terrified even. Buster didn't like that look. Phantom was supposed to be the strong one.

"They had captured you?"

The ghost looked over his shoulder without disrupting their speed and sighed, "Yeah they still have Wes, I need to save him…God, this is all my fault."

Suddenly feeling like he was going to vomit, he closed his eyes and swallowed back the bile. "What about Danny?" he whispered, too afraid to ask but too worried not to.

Phantom didn't reply right away. Buster looked up to take in his expression, he couldn't read it though. "Him too, they took him. I need to help. But first I need to make sure you're safe." he said solemnly, without meeting his eyes.

"I want to help," he said as Phantom slowed and dived down.

The ghost narrowed his eyes, anger flaring behind them. "NO," he said sternly, placing Buster down.

"Why not," he countered stubbornly, arms crossed. Phantom looked sick, he needed help. He couldn't do this alone.

The ghost boy ran his fingers through his white hair and pulled open a door to a broken down building. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, a chill ran up his spine as he looked through and took in the darkness. "Just stay here, and don't move until you're sure it's safe. Then go straight home." He instructed, Buster shivered. He didn't think he could spend a second in there, let alone hide out for who knows how long.

Turning to protest, he stopped in his tracks. With his eyes wide, "Phantom…"

Phantom raised his arms in frustration, "Just listen for once in your life," he yelled.

Buster didn't hear him, his eyes were fixed on something in the sky. He tried again, "Pha—" but was interrupted by another angry shout.

"Go in! I don't have time—"

"Neither do we spook, you've wasted enough of ours. You're going to pay for that ship." A voice interrupted. Phantom stiffened, without warning, he grabbed Buster once again and shot up into the sky.

"How did they get here so fast," he mumbled to himself, tucking Buster's head into his shoulder as he avoided streams of energy blasts coming their way. If Buster wasn't so scared, he would have been embarrassed at the treatment. "Put me down, it would be a lot easier for you." he said, his voice muffled against Phantom's suit.

"They saw you already, it's too late. I'm not risking it again." he replied, panting as he swerved around a sharp turn, surprising the two men with a sideways strike. They screeched, one of the jet packs giving out. The other dived to save his partner, buying them some time.

"I can't leave you out in the open, I'm not sure how far these guys are going to go. But if I can get you to safety, they can't get to you." Phantom explained, in a strangely calm voice. He was thinking, planning something. "I don't want to bring your family into this mess so bringing you home is not going to happen…I'll take you to Vlad."

"Who is that?" he asked cautiously, not keen on barging in to another random person's home.

"…The Mayor, I'm not sure he'll help again. But it's worth a shot. I doubt they would abduct a kid right from under his nose."

Buster had to agree that the idea made some sort of sense. He didn't understand why these people were abducting kids and attacking Phantom, but he knew he was in trouble and decided that trusting Phantom was his only option.

Suddenly their flight changed at a drastic upward angle, catching Buster of guard. He looked down just in time to see a glowing green net fly past their previous location. Phantom had avoided it without even looking.

Instinctively, Buster tightened his grip on his shoulder. Phantom winced softly, cursing under his breath. He let go immediately, "Sorry, are you hurt?" he asked.

The ghost smiled kindly, "you could say that," he replied distractedly, sending an ice blast down at their pursuers.

Buster noted that the ghost was limiting his attacks, sticking to defense. He suspected that he didn't have much power left. "Why don't you turn invisible and take us there, we could slow down a bit and lose them," he suggested.

"It won't work, they can track me. Visible or not." Phantom replied without missing a beat, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he nailed a particularly difficult mid-air stunt.

"That's just rotten," he complained, fingers digging into the ghost's side to ensure he wouldn't slip.

"Can't argue with you there."

With much grace, Phantom geared down and shot straight into the road, turning intangible a little too late for comfort. Buster held his breath at the smell of the sewers as Phantom landed them on the side, leaning his head against the dirty walls, taking a moment to collect himself. "You're tired," he pointed out worriedly, feeling incredibly useless.

The ghost took a couple of deep breaths before he opened one eye, sparing him a glance. Smiling wryly, he secured his arm around him once again and took off. "What gave it away?"

Buster peered over his shoulder in time to spot the two men round a corner, gaining on them, frustrated scowled plastered on their faces. Large rocket blasters appeared out of their jets, aiming their way.

"Look out!" he yelled. Just as a large rocket left its home and hurtled towards them, Phantom turned his head. Eyes wide, he dropped their altitude. Abruptly plummeting, Buster screamed in shock as they landed and rolled roughly across the flat roof of an apartment building. Breathing heavily, Phantom's dim eyes suddenly brightened in anger.

"Okay change of plan," he sneered. He shoved Buster behind the large electrical box and formed a mini green shield around his body, "you stay here while I take care of these guys."

Buster bit back a protest, he wouldn't be able to help anyway. Better he was out of the way.

With his racing heart pounding in his ears, he let his mind wander as Phantom's form faded out of sight. Wes and Danny's faces flashed before him. His creative mind not doing him any favors in imagining what kind of conditions they might be in. They were long ways away by now, the other agents dragging them away to who knows where. It all felt unreal, like he was stuck in a nightmare. He wished he could wake up and never fall asleep again.

When he was younger, he craved excitement. Something supernatural, something cool. If he had known what he was getting himself into, he would never have wasted so much time.

A loud thud right in front of him startled his eyes open, he hadn't realized they had closed in the first place. Wrinkling his forehead, he squinted through the green barrier. His eyebrows shot up when he realized he was staring straight at the two agents, tied up in what seemed to be the remnants of a banner. Phantom had caught them.

Excited at the small victory, he wondered where his ghostly friend was. However, he didn't have to wonder for very long. The shield flickered around him in synch to the sudden quaking of the ground he was sitting on.

Alarmed, he scrambled to his knees and peered over the electrical box. Phantom had apparently crash landed back onto the roof, currently pushing himself onto his hands and knees.

However, seemingly out of nowhere, a thin stream of energy shot out and struck him in the back. "AGHH," the ghost yelled as he collapsed back onto his belly.

Buster's shield instantly dissipated around him.

Confused, Buster stared at the men in front of him who were out cold. Weren't there only two? Where had that attack come from?

Shifting his attention back on the fallen hero, Buster held his breath, willing him to get up. At that moment, the source of the attack made itself known. A single agent, somehow appearing more threatening than all the others he had seen combined, effortlessly flew over and aimed a large cannon at the limp body. His stoic face slowly changed into a pleased sneer as he pulled back a switch and prepared to shoot.

Buster wasn't really thinking. All he knew was that Phantom was too weak to take that shot. He didn't know what happened to ghosts when they were driven over the edge, and he wasn't ready to find out.

Moving faster than he had moved before, he leapt into the air and landed right in front of his friend. His breath hitched as he watched the angry red energy shoot out of the weapon, right towards his head. Instinctively, he brought his arms up to shield his face and closed his eyes.

There was a yell. He felt a hand wrap around his ankle. And then there was silence.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Confused. Stunned.

"That was incredibly stupid," a weak voice choked out.

They were no longer on the roof. "Where are we?" he asked cautiously once his eyes landed on Phantom.

The ghost staggered backwards, "I don't know, I teleported on instinct…it's a new power. Don't really know how to use it," he coughed, wheezing audibly.

Gripping the rough brick wall behind him, the ghost slid down. He was struggling, his face contorted in pain. Buster stepped closer, intending to comfort him, but was stopped mid-stride.

A bright flash of light exploded out of nowhere, blinding him. There was a cry of agony.

'The agents are back,' he thought in panic.

Forcing his eyes back open, he began to run forward, fully planning on attempting his earlier stunt once more…but there was no one to tackle. No one to come between.

He stood stock still and stared at the spot against the wall. The limp form shaking slightly, hands threaded in his messy hair, was not the same one that was there moments before.

His blood ran cold. His mind completely numb, unable to comprehend the sight before him.

"Danny?"