An uncanny ambiance radiated out, seeping through his clothes, getting under his skin. A chill settled deep in his core, although he was used to the feeling, with his made of literal ice, it unnerved him. His heart hammered loudly, echoing in his ears.
Danny had expected something dingy and dark. Something that resembled the prison they'd encountered not too long ago. However, as he looked forward, all he could see was a place much too familiar.
A lab, just like the one in his own home. Nothing to distinguish it from the almost-innocent work area he grew up around, was comfortable in.
He knew it was an illusion. Although his eyes may have been deceived, his other senses picked up the slack. He could sense it, with ever part of his soul. Nothing short of evil was condoned in the confines of this hidden chamber. He could hear it, touch it, taste it…smell it.
He hesitated, reluctant to step inside, afraid the moment he'd set foot on the shiny linoleum floor that it would dissipate, disintegrate into a plumb of smoke. Shattering the sweet illusion its image created.
"Danny! Danny, can you hear me?"
Taking a deep breath, he watched as his scuffed tennis shoe made contact, flinching subconsciously in anticipation. When nothing happened, he filled his lungs and pulled his body through, as if he were crawling through a small tunnel rather than the large expanse of a missing wall.
"Danny? Buster!? Oh man."
His eyes flitted across the room, noting it was actually larger then it initially seemed. The back wall was obscured by plastic curtains. He crinkled his eyes as he stared, confused by the familiar set up.
"Uh, yeah sorry Tucker. We can hear you"
It reminded him of a hospital. It made him want to turn on his heel, run away and never look back. It was odd, he has never felt an adversity to hospitals before. That was all Tucker…
"Don't scare me like that. I lost visual on you guys, what happened?"
At the thought of his friend, he realized that he could hear his voice filtering through the thick fog in his head. It was muffled.
"We found the passageway."
Suddenly everything snapped back into place, time began to move forward. Buster was talking, he was right beside him. Tucker was talking to him, he sounded terrified.
"What happened to Danny?" Tucker asked after a moment of silence.
"Nothing, I'm good. I'm here," Danny mumbled, catching Buster's eye. The boy stared at him accusingly but Danny quickly looked away. "I think we found him, I'm gonna come get you soon…hurry it up in there," he instructed, gaining back his brave face, one that was getting harder for him to grasp.
"Sure thing," Tucker agreed in a clipped tone.
Talking a deep breath, his eyes trained on the curtains, not a doubt in his mind that Wes was behind the thin sheet of plastic, "Sam?" he prompted.
"On it," she replied, not needing further instruction, more than ready to get the boys out of the building as fast as possible.
Steeling his nerves he glanced back at Buster. The kid nodded, having noticed Danny's source of discomfort, he knew where they had to go. Quickly but quietly they spanned the endless stretch of linoleum towards their destination.
Danny's quivering fingers grasped the crinkling material, and with a deep breath, he peeled it away.
The smell of death hit him 10-fold, clawing at him with its sharp talons.
He stepped back, turned around, hunched over and retched on to the floor. His body trembled, throat burned as dry heaves tore through.
Buster had backed away, eyes wide, hand over his mouth, muffling a scream. He stood frozen several feet from what they uncovered, his eyes trained at the gory sight of what once was a human being.
Pushing himself up, Danny turned back and stared. Unable to believe what he was seeing.
He was dead. The body before him had not an ounce of life left in him. Thin limbs lay stark still, bones almost poking through. Eyes eerily remained open, glinting off the bright lights surrounding them, yet no amount of light could imitate that spark of life. His jaw hung slack, contorted as if in mid-scream. Cold skin peeled back, pins holding it in place, exposing what lay beneath the ribs, blood pooling and congealing around the wound. His hair angrily shaved off, nicks and cuts visible, blonde tuffs left behind.
Danny closed his eyes. He wished he could burn the image out of his brain. The poor boy looked to be not a day older than thirteen. Probably a run away. These people had no souls.
Buster hadn't moved. He was silent. Stricken. Frozen.
Danny shuddered. The cubicle creepily mimicked a hospital room. Machines were still hooked up to the boy, but instead of the semi-comfortable bed, he lay on a cold metal slab. The setup was so strangely innocent, yet malicious. The glinting of the sharp metal tools lay neatly on the work benches, meticulously cleaned. Danny caught sight of a speck of blood on the tip of a scalpel, they had missed it.
He lifted his eyes and looked towards the next curtain. The room was split, there were others behind the thin barrier. There had to be. Wes was here. His heart beat sped up. Mind blanking as he stepped forward and ripped the next curtain. Then the next. And the next. Dead, dead, all dead.
His chest moved rapidly, trying to keep up. Hyperventilating, his vision blurred. There was only one section left. One last body.
"Danny, they are gonna be here in twenty minutes tops. Get him out of there," Sam urged worriedly.
He could feel the time fleeting through his fingers, the constant ticking of the non-existent clock coercing him to move. Closing his eyes, he reached forward and carefully pushed the plastic away. The swish of the material echoed loudly in his ears.
He stared ahead, focusing his eyes, gazing at the limp body hidden underneath the magnitude of attachments hooked up to beeping machinery.
He gasped.
The pale skin was littered with ugly bruises, knuckles swollen with defensive wounds. Bottom lip split open, indicative of a rough fight. Hair dripped with sweat, red strands plastered against his forehead. If Danny didn't know better, he wouldn't have recognized the boy.
There was no movement, save of the gentle rise and fall of his battered chest.
He was alive.
He made it, the only one.
"Wes?" he whispered as he subconsciously closed the distance between them. He watched as he unconsciously lay on the same metal slabs as the bodies lined up behind him. It was a horrifying sight, he just wanted to get him out. "Please wakeup," he begged under his breath repeatedly, desperately.
Could he just phase him through the equipment? Would it hurt him? His hand hovered over the boy's arm, unable to get himself to touch him.
"…Fenton?" a soft voice murmured, Danny jerked his head up in time to see two lidded hazel-green eyes staring back at him. "S'bout time."
Overcome by a flood of relief, "Hey Wes. We're gonna get you out of here dude. You're going to be okay," he rambled, a watery smile on his face.
"Shut… up…I'm g'na kick y'r butt for this," the boy groaned.
Danny couldn't help the bubble of laughter that passed through his lips. Wes glared at him the best he could, pain shining brightly in his glazed eyes. The look instantly sobered him up, bringing Danny off of the sudden euphoria from finding the boy alive. He looked around, eager to get the machines unhooked with minimal damage to Wes' health.
Slowly and carefully he began ripping off electrodes, slipping out needles, and pulling out tubes.
The beeping of the machines abruptly spiked, an error code blaring urgently into his right ear. He ignored it, furrowing his brow in concentration. If it wasn't hurting Wes, it wasn't his problem.
Finally free of the wiry burden, Wes groaned, "Can't move…"
Danny winced in sympathy, "Don't worry, I got you." Lifting his limp lanky arm, Danny placed it around his own shoulder and hoisted him up into a seated position.
He was in the process of coaxing him off the edge of the slab when a loud voice penetrated the commotion around them, "Hey!"
A resonating thud followed by clattering of metal and a familiar muffled scream later, Danny found himself staring, wide eyed, at a middle-aged stranger in a lab coat.
"Buster!" he screamed in shock. Leaping forward, while simultaneously supporting Wes' weight, his eyes ricocheted between the man, his friend, and the sharp metal object held against his throat.
"One more move and I'll bury this scalpel right into his jugular," the man gritted, a crazed gleam in his eyes.
Danny tightened his grip on Wes, unconsciously pulling him closer, as he stared deep into Buster's terrified eyes. His mouth was gagged by the man's other hand, holding him securely against his looming body. Trapped.
Danny's world plummeted.
The walls felt as if they were finally closing in. This was the last straw.
A string of berating thoughts emerged from every nook and cranny of the room, swirling out, bombarding him, and reminding him that it was all his fault Buster was even here. The large pleading eyes sent pangs of guilt throughout his body, blaming him, suffocating him.
He couldn't move, the man's words somehow holding him in a binding spell.
Then, the gleam in the man's eye shifted. He raised his thick brow in mild surprise as something close to recognition glinted in his grey pupils. "Daniel Fenton," he stated in thinly veiled amusement, "aren't you supposed to be dead?"
And just like that, the spell broke. Danny noticed as the man's posture relaxed a miniscule amount, the sharp edge moving tiny bits away from his friend's vulnerable throat.
Rookie mistake.
In that moment, with grasping fingers, he latched on to the small shred of hope. Danny closed his eyes and pushed away ever sliver of resentment and doubt he carried on his burdened shoulders. His thudding heart pumped harder, carrying forward a fresh dose of adrenaline as his body prepared to fight. He was here to win, and he knew exactly how he was going to do it.
His own body shifted, the language going through such a drastic change, he felt Wes tense against him.
"You've got to be careful with those pesky rumors," he chided lightly, his eyes holding a confident and challenging taunt.
He watched as the man surveyed him, a tiny smirk curling at the corner of the guy's slimy mouth. Buster's eyes seemed wary with a new layer of fear. He hoped, with everything he had, that Buster trusted him enough for this to work.
"Well, Fenton, I suggest you step away from my specimen," The apparent scientist spat, seeming to be enjoying the situation.
Wes flinched, his breaths quickened. Danny's eyes narrowed, gut twisting in disgust by the sheer pleasure on the guy's face.
His own smirk playing at his lips, "No."
Bony fingers dug into his shoulder, "Danny," Wes gritted, "he'll kill 'im."
No way in hell was he going to throw the boy back to the wolves. He ignored him. Opted instead to hold the glaring contest he was having with the despicable excuse of a human being.
A full grin broke out. Taking in the confident aura around the pale and injured teenager, the scientist snickered, eyeing his bloodied leg. "Breaking in once was a bold move, but twice? You really are something kid."
Shrugging his shoulders, Danny playfully tilted his head, "it's not like I could've forgotten about such an interesting place. The rest of the world was really missing out. I just had to spread the news."
The scientist's smile faltered as he took in the implications of the statement, brow furrowed lightly. The scalpel moved a millimeter away. "You're bluffing," he accused, sounding unsure of his own statement.
"The FBI is less than fifteen minutes away, this is over. Let him go." Danny stated firmly, his eyes watching the weapon intently, dropping any hint of lightness of his earlier tone.
"Hah! As if they could lay a finger on our organization," the man hooted obnoxiously. Tightening his grip on metal object, he erased any space created between its sharp edge and the soft skin, forming a light indent. His eyes narrowed, the smirk reformed, his voice deepened, "Kid, there isn't anything a little money can't solve."
"Bribery, nice," Danny snorted, trying not to let any distress show through his act. "Maybe it'll work with the government officials, but what about the good ol' American citizens? How many people are you going to pay off? This will all be front page news come morning. Face it, it's over."
For a moment, no one spoke. The shrill beeping of the machinery leapt at the chance to take over, their sounds penetrating the silence, resonating with his entire body.
"You think you're clever, don't you?" the man growled, jostling Buster around as he leaned forward threateningly, "you don't even have the mental capacity to grasp the gravity of the ingenious, innovative work I've done down here, much less publish it."
Danny's breath caught in his throat as a soft whimper sounded. He snapped his eyes towards his captive friend and took in the thin trickle of blood collecting within the hollow of his neck. A familiar burn seeped into his irises, his own blood boiling under the heat. Quickly shutting his eyes, he forced in a deep breath. He couldn't deny it any longer. His suspicions had to be true, there was no other explanation. Danny gritted his teeth, "I know what you were trying to do."
The man seemed to sense that Danny had somehow cracked, he looked down and noticed the trail of red, "Oh?" he asked with a smile in his voice. Sticking out his pinky finger, he swiped the thin substance, smearing it over his Adam's apple, "please enlighten me."
"Don't," Wes whispered in his ear, trying to reel him back in. If Danny were thinking straight, he might have listened. But that wasn't going to get them out of this mess.
He swallowed thickly, tearing his eyes away from the smear, he locked them on mocking grey ones. "Genetic enhancement, recombination, mutation...Kidnapping, Torture, Murder," he listed, eyes narrowing, voice dangerously low.
"Such big words…and even heavier accusations," the scientist chuckled, licking his cracked lips, looking moderately impressed. He shifted his weight, the sharp edge finally moving away from the shallow wound.
Danny eyed Buster's right arm, flitting his gaze towards the boy's eyes and back to the unrestrained limb. Adjusting his own weight, he raised his brow curiously, "What I want to know is, why? What possessed you to even attempt such a thing?"
Buster's hand opened and closed, testing out the waters. Danny shook his head subtly. They had to wait.
He shot Danny a demeaning look, "Ghosts are such interesting creatures, formed with a powerful substance capable of mesmerising things. However, they lack a sort of…stability to be useful in the long run, on the human plane," The man explained. Oblivious to the exchange, his eyes glinted with a creepy level of enthusiasm.
"Useful? For what?" Danny asked incredulously, the horror and utter rage unhidden on his features.
A malicious grin took up half of the guy's face, marveling at the emotions he was able to elicit from the teen. It gave him the sense of control he craved. "Things beyond what I'm willing to disclose, Fenton."
Danny let out a low growl, it took every muscle in his body to keep him from knocking every tooth out of that infuriating smile. That bastard had it coming. He had no right. "What makes you think, if you were to succeed, that you would have the power to control them?"
Appearing genuinely baffled, "Whatever do you mean?"
"We don't have time for this Danny! Just get them out!" Sam's urgent voice cut in. He knew she was right. He shouldn't be wasting his time arguing, he shouldn't be antagonizing him. He needed to talk him down. But he didn't stop. He couldn't.
"They'd be more powerful than you," he declared boldly, taking a step forward, dragging Wes with him. His action went unnoticed however as the man bellowed with laughter.
"They would no longer be human," he pointed out, as if the simple fact debunked Danny's statement. Lifting his hand away from Buster's mouth, he gently caressed his cheek, "humanity will always dominate. Those creatures will be less than. They would have no right, no will."
Danny flinched, the words cutting a bit too deep. The guy noticed. Mirth glimmered in his glare, regarding him with heightened interest. Danny's own glare hardened. Ignoring the mental wounds, it was nothing he hadn't heard before, "are you sure about that?" he barked, stepping even closer.
Dropping his arm, leaving Buster ungagged, the scientist smiled condescendingly, "Certain."
The man's utter conviction sent his skin crawling, he jumped forward angrily, "who do you think you are?" Danny roared, hurt and rage consuming him, "some sort of god? You don't even understand the product of your own creation."
"Calm down," Wes gasped, trying to keep up with the movement. Danny reached up and pushed Wes' arm off of his shoulder, holding him steady by only an arm around his thin waist.
The man was gaining a tad too much enjoyment out of their confrontation, he didn't even stop to notice how little distance was left between them. His hand reached up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "And let me guess, you do?"
Danny rolled his eyes, an elusive smirk forming. "I have a pretty strong idea," he confessed scandalously.
"Danny, Stop" Tucker urged, sounding alarmed by the disclosure of information, seeming to know what he was about to do next. By the sound of his voice, he highly disapproved. He didn't have eyes on them, he didn't really know what was going on.
"I hear sirens," Sam warned. Danny's heart rate picked up. As much as he needed his friends, they were not helping. He reached up and switched off the device in his ear, effectively blocking out the distracting voices echoing in his head. Sweat poured down his temple, he had to act fast.
"That's rich," the genius fool scoffed. His posture was relaxed, he didn't think there was any danger. He had deemed Danny's threat a bluff a long time ago. To him, he was just a stupid kid in way over his head.
Danny sneered at him and watched as his body suddenly shook with a violent shiver, "is it?" Pursing his lips, the man looked down at his feet.
Faster than humanly possible, Danny let go of Wes and dived. Buster took that as his cue to act, jabbing his elbow into the man's groin, he grabbed the hand with the scalpel, fighting with all his might to push it away from his throat.
Distracted by the impossible layer of ice trapping his feet to the linoleum floor, the man didn't know what hit him. His eyes grew comically wide, he let out a pained yowl followed by a surprised yelp, struggling to gain back control.
Danny eyes glowed a light blue, locking gazes with the panicked man before cool streams shot out, crystalizing his upper body, including his choice of weapon. Simultaneously, Danny grabbed the small boy's arm, phasing him out his captor's grasp and pulled him protectively towards his side. He flew back instantly and swooped up Wes, who let out a surprised shriek.
It happened so fast, the human brain was almost incapable of perceiving the act as reality. If it were not for the remnants of his ice powers entrapping the man, he might have tried to buy himself out of the situation.
But he wanted to gloat.
So he remained, in human form, effortlessly carrying two boys, floating four feet above the ground.
"T-that's impossible! How? What?!"
"You're a couple years behind on that 'creation' of yours."
Realization slowly dawned on his paralyzed features, his brain connecting the dots that had been carelessly laid out for him. His eyes glazed over, understanding his defeat. "You won't get away," he threatened, voice thick, "you'll be mine. I'll expose you. Everyone will know what you are." The man was grasping at straws, trying to desperately hold on to his delusion.
"Will they? And who would they believe? Danny Fenton was never here."
And with that, the three boys vanished into thin air, leaving the man to wonder if they had ever really been there at all.