Shining the flashlight out in front of him, Buster held his breath, willing himself to take another step forward.

They had been searching for a while now, yet it wasn't getting any easier. Every cell he was forced to look through contained a horror story of its own, and he was not ready to witness another.

However, there was no familiar mop of red hair among the hordes of hundreds he had already seen…he had to keep going. He had to face the truth. He had to silently watch as the people around him suffered, unable to even utter a small semblance of hope. He had to desperately push the image of his mother, a vacant look in her eyes, crouched in a damp cell corner, out of his mind.

He couldn't think like that. He couldn't breakdown. Not now.

He could hear Danny's voice calling Wes's name, the steady sound masking a slight tremor behind it. There was something wrong with him, more than just the obvious, Buster could feel it. Something had happened when they were hiding, he couldn't put his finger on it, but Danny's demeanor had completely flipped. He was scared.

Buster couldn't be weak, not when Danny needed him.

"Hey! Watch where you point that thing. You can blind someone like that!" A raspy voice screeched out, startling him enough to drop the flashlight right out of his hands. Quickly, he scrambled to catch his primary source of light and promptly lifted it back up towards the sound, only to receive a frustrated growl in response.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…you just scared me. No one else seemed to even notice the light." he stammered as he turned the bright stream away from what looked to be a young women, probably in her early-twenties.

"Aren't you a little young to be working for the government?" She asked, not bothering to acknowledge his apology.

"I don't work for those goons," he spat defensively, crossing his arms, horror taking over him from the accusation. She lifted a thin brow, a slight smirk on her cracked lips. "Ah, so a spy then are ya? You don't strike me as the type either…your friend over there, on the other hand, looks right at home." She said, looking over towards Danny at the end of the hall that they were currently in. Buster followed her gaze just in time to see Danny turn around, face illuminated by green light.

"Buster? Who are you talking to?" he asked as he approached, worry apparent in his tone.

The girl smiled cynically, waving a slim hand in the air. "Just a low-life prisoner, handsome, nothing to worry about."

Danny stopped in his tracks, staring at her disbelievingly. "You're the first lucid person I've seen in here," he commented, subtly trying to hide the otherworldly light originating out of his hand.

The girl darkly chuckled, meeting Buster's eye before leaning back against the concrete wall. "Who says I'm lucid, I could be well off my rocker and hallucinating you two. Wouldn't be the first time."

Swallowing thickly, Buster crouched down to her level. "How long have you been in here?"

She turned her head, cocking it to the side as she regarding him for a moment. "A long time, there isn't really a clock in here ya know?" she joked, a grin breaking through, "but not as long as most of these guys. The people I was taken with didn't make it, I was the only one brought in here."

Danny followed his example, crouching down onto his toes, in a position ready to jump up if he needed to. "What is this place?" He asked softly.

She gave him a tired glance then looked away as she spoke. "The incubation chamber."

Buster's eyes widened, Danny seemed to freeze beside him. "What?" he asked, unable to comprehend her words.

"Where they keep the experiments that need time, sweetie," she explained, pointing to the track marks of a needle in her inner right elbow, "they can't torture us until we're good and ready."

He didn't know what to say to that. She was staring at him, a tiny smile on her lips and sadness in her eyes. She was utterly beautiful, even with the dirt covering her hollowed out features. She had her whole life ahead of her, who were these guys to decide otherwise? He didn't think his hatred for the GIW could have ever increased, but as he sat watching her study him, he felt the pure rage double within.

"When was the last time they brought someone in?" Danny whispered, breaking the silence.

She turned her eyes away from Buster to gaze towards the older boy. "I haven't seen or heard anyone come in besides the food guy for quite some time now," she replied, before shamelessly winking at Danny, "your pretty faces are a nice change." Buster couldn't help but smile, he could tell she had one hell of a personality. It was nice to see that they hadn't been able to completely suck it out of her.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked.

Danny nodded, running his fingers through his bangs. "Yeah."

She shook her head, "you won't find 'em in here hon."

"That's what I was afraid of," he whispered more to himself then anyone. Buster looked at him. He was really beating himself up over this, his eyes staring unseeingly passed the girl. Buster wished he could say something that would help, but he didn't know what to do. The place was huge, it was next to impossible to figure out where Wes could be. But they had to find him. They had to take him out of here so they could help this girl. So they could help the rest of these people who still had lives ahead of them.

Suddenly, a flashing red light cast over their crouched forms, a blaring alarm following close behind.

Loud and intrusive.

They both shot up to their feet, he could see Danny's face in flashes, the light casting shadows across his sharp features, making him appear scarier than Buster had ever witnessed. "Tuck! What's going on?!" He yelled over the commotion.

"Something set off the alarm, I don't know! I was so sure I bypassed everything!" Tucker frantically replied.

"Danny, just get out of there. I can see more crafts approaching, it's about to get messy." Sam worriedly informed them.

"But we haven't found him yet!" Buster protested before Danny had the chance.

"Tucker, he's not in here. Do you see any other possible area?" Danny asked, his voice suddenly calm.

"No there isn't anything."

Danny sighed, pushing his hair out of his face nervously. "I'm coming to get you then."

"What? No! I haven't deleted all the footage yet, your fight from last time was longer than you let on." Tucker avidly protested. "Tuck it's not safe, the control room is the first place they'll look," Danny countered, looking frustrated from the turn of events.

"I electronically locked the door, and put up two shields, they won't be able to come through. And if they do, I have weapons. Forget about me and find Wes, NOW!" he shouted in urgency, Buster figured he could see the agents through the cameras. They probably didn't have a lot of time before they found them.

Danny relented and got back to his toes. "Where had they kept you before?" he asked the girl who had been staring at them curiously.

"A lab," she answered, unable to offer up anything more helpful.

Nodding his head, Danny looked at her appreciatively. He curled his fingers around the metal bar, "we're going to get you out of here. I promise," he said softly, uttering the words Buster had wished he had the confidence to say. He admired that about Danny, even in the most hopeless situations, he never seemed to lose faith in his ability to save others. It's seemed to be the only thing keeping him moving forward.

The girl smiled at them, placing a hand around Danny's. "Don't make promises you can't keep. False hope is a fatal force."

They were cornered. He was so stupid. He should have just gone ghost when he had the chance, they knew someone was in here anyway. Now he was stuck fighting as Fenton, with Buster right in the line of fire.

At least there were only three of them for the time being, he could handle that. He kicked out, sending one tumbling down, landing on his long nose. Blood gushed out, the guy brought his hand up as he screamed painfully. It was broken.

"Should I just call it in now? Shooting at kids is a pretty good reason." Sam interjected as he dodged a pretty close shot.

Danny scowled, "no, wait till we find him."

"Another plane just landed. Danny this is getting out of hand." She replied worriedly, "they can help find Wes."

He summersaulted away from grasping meaty hands, glancing over at Buster stationed behind a trashcan. "Sam, just wait. We'll find him. I really can't talk right now." He pulled out his own blaster and shot the gun right out of a guy's grip, searing his gloves. He growled, annoyed and lunged towards him.

Thanking his lucky stars for his mom's recent training in hand to hand combat, he didn't back away. Trying his best to hold off the guys himself. Buster wasn't trained for this.

"All the labs are empty, the scientists seemed to have already called it a day. They don't even look that sketchy, just a couple of beakers of ectoplasm like your parents' place." Tuck informed him, "There's got to be another one," he gritted as he punched the side of a man's chiseled face.

"I know, but if there is, there aren't any cameras."

Tucker was right, they probably wouldn't have been recording it. The girl had been injected with something. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but it was hard to deny. They were contaminating them with ecto-energy. He didn't know for sure what they did once the victims were 'ready,' but he had a hunch. He wasn't ready to accept it just yet. Whatever it was, it was too horrible to keep video evidence of.

Two were down, sprawled unconsciously across the hard ground. He stared darkly at the last agent standing as they rounded each other. Both forgetting about the weaponry at their disposal, animalistic rage blazing behind their eyes. "You won't make it out of here boy, you're out numbered."

Danny narrowed his eyes before flashing him an amused grin. He swiftly reached out and grabbed the agent, twisting his arm painfully while flipping him over and up against the grimy wall. "From where I'm standing, you're the one short-handed."

The guy chuckled as he elbowed Danny in the gut, right in his healing wound. Staggering backwards, Danny lost his hold, coughing painfully. He quickly recovered, dodging a roundhouse kick to the head. He slid between the man's legs, buckling in his knees before he roughly slammed him to the ground. He held his fingers above a pressure point when the agent spoke. "Even if you manage to beat me, there'll be more. I've got backup two minutes away. Face it kid, give up."

"Fat chance," he snarled before following through. Getting up, he winced in pain, wiping the sweat off his brow. "We need to move," he shouted towards Buster who quickly stood from his hiding spot. Picking up his weapon from where he skidded during the fight, he raced down the hall and away from the sound of approaching steps.

"Where are we going?" The kid yelled as they ran.

Danny glanced over his shoulder, meeting his eyes. "We need to find that hidden lab."

"Danny. That could be anywhere."

"I know, this way's as good as any to start looking."

The red light was still flashing, alarm blaring obnoxiously, frazzling his senses, keeping him on edge. He knew the situation was a tight one. He had no idea where to start. He wished these guys were as obvious as Vlad. In a way, they were, but there was no inconspicuous book shelves or detestable statues in a dingy basement. Where would the GIW hide a secret lab in a secret building?

At the thought of his arch-enemy, his irritating voice echoed through his head. "Know thy enemy, Daniel. You never know what you can utilize against him." He hated to admit that the bit of advice had come in handy on many occasions, especially against the man himself. But how was it going to help him now?

Suddenly he was pulled out of his thoughts as he felt a yank on his elbow, they skidded roughly against the ground and into a dark hall. Surprised he looked up at Buster, "What happened?"

Buster shook his head in disbelief, "weren't you paying attention, someone's coming," he whispered. Danny nodded, yanked out a ray gun and steadily held it over his shoulder, pointing it towards the opening of the hallway. They held their breath as the sound got louder, it sounded like wheels. He hoped to god it wasn't another body, he didn't think he could handle that.

Just as fast as the sound grew, it began to diminish. The man passed by without so much of a glance. It was just the 'food guy' that the girl had been talking about. 'At least they feed them,' he thought bitterly.

"I don't see how blindly running down the halls is helping," Buster said once the guy had passed. Danny looked towards him but didn't say anything, he didn't really think it was helping, he was just trying to get away.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked. Danny sighed, no he wasn't. Everything was wrong. He couldn't deal with this. The smell was over powering, he didn't even think it was really there anymore. But he could still feel it lingering in the air. They couldn't be doing what he thought they were doing. It was impossible. At least to the world, it was impossible.

"Danny?"

"Huh?" he looked up, Buster was watching him worriedly.

"Uh, yeah I'm fine," he said before pushing himself to his feet. "We'll slow down alright, we just need to keep going."

"They diverged their path from yours, you guys are good for now." Tucker crackled over the Fenton phone.

He swallowed, trying to rid the dryness of his constricting throat, "thanks Tuck." shaking his nerves, he stepped out, Buster not far behind him.

The halls ahead of them were winding, branching out into ominous twists and turns. It was dizzying. They must have opened dozens of doors, turned uncountable rooms upside down, searching for something, anything that would lead them through a secret passage.

It was fruitless. There was nothing. Wes was nowhere to be found. Doubt creeped up on him. What if he wasn't even here? What if they had already gotten rid of him?

His knees felt weak at the thought. What was he going to do? What would he tell his father? Wes was all he had left.

Angrily, he swiped clear the desk he had just pushed away from the wall, sending its contents flying across the room, a ceramic cat shattering at his feet. He was such an idiot. He should have just let himself die in the park. Why did he ever think asking Wes to save his worthless butt was a good idea?

"Danny, calm down," Buster whispered from the other end of the room.

"How can I calm down?!" He screamed. Kicking the stupid cat's decapitated head. "They're killing him and we can't do anything about it!" He gripped his hair and pulled with a frustrated growl. "It's all my fault!" Turning around, he blasted a round hole clean through the metal door.

"Danny! Stop!"

"Why should I?" he gritted, rage consuming him, hot green energy swirling at his fingertips.

"They'll hear you" Buster warned, "They can sense you, remember?" he added, slowly trying to approach, palms help up in a non-threatening stance.

His brain suddenly caught the logic in Buster's words. They were trying to stay out of sight. Screaming and tearing holes through a room wasn't the best way to do so.

"Right. Sorry," he whispered, shoulders slumping down. "Let's go to the next room, I don't think there is anything here."

Slowly, he let go of the bright power, reabsorbing it into his body. He shut his eyes tightly, supressing his surge of emotions, and turned towards the door. Just as he stepped forward, a strong force caught his frame, pushing him back. Leaving him dazed. He opened his eyes only to stare straight into beady blue painted ones, mirroring his expression. That stupid cat.

Sharply twisting his head up and spotting a smoking barrel in the hole he'd created, he groaned. They'd found them. Way to go Fenton.

The suppressed anger bubbled over, blinding his vision. His mind went blank as he sprang to his feet, not bothering with the pain from the impact. These guys were going to pay. He moved without a thought in his brain. It was all mechanical. Punch. Kick. Dodge. Fire. There was a crack, a groan, pain. White hot pain.

Somewhere from the back of his mind he registered that someone was fighting along with him.

Buster. No, he wasn't supposed to fire that gun. He never taught him how.

There was no time to tell him to stand down. They were coming in hoards. He knocked a few of them out with no trouble at all, but there were too many of them. They had somehow moved to a larger area. He darted to the left, a rocket blaster tore down the wall behind him. Wes wasn't in there either.

"I managed to block most of the entrances to where you guys are. The others can't get to you for now." Tucker provided, worry laced in his words. He nodded and not sparing any time to reply, fired a powerful blast

He fell, something sliced through his knee. The searing pain shot up his leg as fresh blood seeped down. He gritted his teeth. Growling as he pushed past it, jumping into a fighting stance.

There were at least ten agents left. He didn't have eyes on Buster, but he knew the majority of attackers wouldn't be heading his way. They were targeting Danny. Their primary threat. Somehow finding the confidence, he smirked, wondering how they felt losing to a teenager. He watched as uncertainty flickered across their faces, his smirk deepened. The baton in his hand expanded, a menacing glint in his eye.

The battle was long and brutal, they must have been fighting for hours. Or five minutes. It was hard to tell. He was getting tired. Sweat dripped down his back as he lifted his good leg and kicked a guy square in the jaw. The man let out a scream, arms raised forward in an attempt to gain balance, falling in slow motion. A sickening crack echoed as he landed on someone's bent elbow.

Danny stood, chest heaving, staring at the numerous bodies lying on top of one another. Challenging them to move. He let a small smile of triumph form on his face; he got them all.

The moment passed, he blinked, remembering Buster. Fear gripped him once again. He took a step back from the mess, about to call out for him when the kid beat him to it. "Danny! Watch out!"

Without thinking, he reacted, ducking his head just in time for a warm blast to shoot past his head, singing the tips of his hair. Swiveling around on his heel, he stared at the man sliding down the wall. Black human gun clattering uselessly onto the cold hard ground. His white suit burnt where the blast hit, droplets of blood dripping from his head onto its pressed material.

He turned his head and stared disbelievingly at Buster, stunned by the accuracy of the shot. Giving him an approving smile, appreciation in his eyes, he turned back to glare at the last agent. He was still conscious, but in no condition to move.

Slowly, he limped forward, grimacing at the throbbing of the reopened wound. Bunching the soiled suit into his fist, he pulled the guy close. "Looks like you've got a cleanliness breach there man, probably should get on that."

As the taunt left his lips, his brain whirled to life.

Cleanliness breach…of course! How hadn't he thought of it sooner? He smiled widely, probably disturbing the man he still held in his grasp. "Know thy enemy," he whispered giddily before dropping the guy into an injured mass against the wall.

"Tucker, where's the laundry room?" he asked, his voice strangely cheerful.

"The laundry room?" Tucker echoed, confused.

"Yeah," he replied, not bothering to elaborate his thoughts.

"It's not too far. Two lefts and a right," Tucker supplied after a moment.

He looked towards Buster who still held the gun in his hands staring at the agent he had just shot. Danny sucked in a breath and went up to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. The kid flinched by the sudden contact but quickly recovered when he realized it was just him.

"Nice shot," he complemented softly, guilt building as he took in the lost expression.

"Thanks," Buster smiled half-heartedly, shook his head and looked away, a bleeding slash visible across his right cheek. The corner of his t-shirt charred and stained by a stray blast.

Danny knew how he felt, it was never easy injuring a person, even in defense. Ghosts were simple, he let himself believe they could always recover, but humans? No matter how evil, were just that, humans.

He wished Buster hadn't been forced to fight. He hadn't even been watching out for him. He could have gotten hurt. Or worse.

But he didn't. He was fine. Somehow, he held his own. Danny was shocked, he didn't know Buster had it in him. But anger could do that to a person. He should know.

"I'm sorry," Danny voiced as he reached up and wiped the trickle of blood from the kid's cheek, "I shouldn't have lost control like that, it was dangerous."

Buster made no eye contact but shook his head, "it's okay. I get it. Wes is important to you."

Smiling slightly as he acknowledged the truth of the statement, "I know where to find him," Danny whispered.

The boy turned towards him, eyeing him skeptically, "you do?"

He nodded, adrenaline coursing through, excitement evident on his face. Buster watched curiously, but didn't question him as Danny jumped eagerly over the fallen agents, following quietly.

"Why are we in a laundry room?" he finally asked, once they walked through the double doors.

Danny grinned, "This is the most logical place," he said as he began pulling the room apart, "they're obsessed with keeping clean." White sheets littered the ground. Washing machine lids hung open. Detergents were knocked of their shelves. "If they were going to hide something, it'd be in here," he stated, his head stuck in dryer, muffling his voice.

Halfway through his rampage, Buster joined in. "I don't think I've seen this much white in one place before," he remarked as he pushed forward a metal rack stocked with pressed lab coats.

Danny walked forward and helped him, dropping his shoulders as they were met with a solid blank wall. Swiping the coats off the shelf, "they must go through gallons of bleach every week," he added.

Buster stared at him, Danny's words echoing through the large room. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispered.

Danny licked his dry lips and nodded.

Simultaneously, they turned and scanned the room. Most of the bleach had already met the ground, bottles rolling around at their feet adding to the chaotic mess they made of the formerly pristine area.

However, there, in the back corner, sat a single bottle. Placed perfectly in the center of a small shelf.

He gulped as they both stared at it, knowing full well that they found what they'd been searching for. His heart pounding mercilessly in his chest. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

Stepping forward, crossing the distance with Buster by his side, he wrapped a hand around the smooth curved handle of the plastic bottle and pulled.

The wall shook.

Danny stepped back instinctively, pulling Buster by the back of his shirt. Tucker's voice suddenly sounded in his ear, shouting urgently, but he couldn't hear the static-filled words.

His senses were flooded, ears engulfed by the low rumbling around them as the wall receded.