Chapter Fifteen

CW: Depression, Brief mention of suicidal thoughts, descriptions of injuries, likely medical inaccuracies as I am not a medical professional

Danny sat on the floor of Tucker's room, a stack of worksheets and textbooks surrounding him as he chewed on the end of his pen. He managed to finish most of his math and science homework, in no small part since those were his best subjects even if best was pretty relative in this case since his grades in both were C's compared to the low D's he had in most of his other classes. At least math and science made sense. His English and Spanish homework, on the other hand, remained incomprehensible.

"Ugh, I hate this," he grumbled, throwing himself back on the floor in frustration. "Can we take a break?"

"Dude, we just had dinner," said Tucker. "We've barely been at it for ten minutes."

"Yeah, but we were at it for over two hours before dinner," argued Danny. They ordered from a local Thai food place, mostly since it had a handful of vegan options for Sam. He barely managed more than a few bites. The food should be fine. He knew it should be. But it was so hard for him to eat lately. Everything tasted . . . not awful, not really, but like nothing. "Please?"

"Want some ice cream?" offered Sam. His friends, of course, both noticed how little he ate. He could tell they were worried about him. "Mrs. Foley mentioned she bought some, including some new vegan brand I've been wanting to try."

He forced himself to put on the best smile he could. He doubted the ice cream would be better than anything else, despite how nightmarishly hungry he felt all the time, but he could make himself eat a little if it would help them both worry a little less about him. "Sure."

"Cool, I'll go check with your parents, Tuck," she offered, jumping to her feet and heading downstairs, and he listened to her boots as they echoed loudly on the steps.

Things should be better. His family and friends didn't know everything, but they were much closer to the truth than before and they swore to keep it secret. They knew he was a liminal. They knew about the ghosts, and his parents and Valerie were surprisingly willing to listen and let him take the lead when it came to handling them more than he ever believed possible. And with the exception of Sidney, so far none of the ghosts seemed to figure out who he actually was despite Desiree granting the wish, although he hadn't seen Desiree or Skulker since handing over the thermos to Ember. While the ghosts finding out wouldn't be ideal, he mostly only worried about Vlad learning the truth.

But every little bit beyond that, every additional piece of information or odd power displayed around his family and friends . . . he could see it in their horrified looks. They were all trying incredibly hard. He knew they were. But even this much pushed them to the edge, and no part of Danny believed they could learn the full truth about him and still accept him. Phantom needed to remain nothing more than an odd ghost, and Danny needed to be just another human with a few freaky little powers.

He swallowed, trying to ignore the hollowness and the ache in his core at the thought of continuing to keep his identity secret. Sidney thankfully talked him out of jumping off the cliff the other week, but Danny would be lying if he claimed he wasn't still sitting dangerously to the edge, his sleep full of nightmares and his days spent resisting the tug of his obsession even as his family and friends seemed ready to accept Phantom being around once more. He stared down at his hand, remembering the strange, black void and glowing specks and claws that were beneath his hazmat suit and shuddered.

Phantom's true form beneath the suit made him sick to his stomach, and although he knew people were expecting Phantom to reappear any day now, he had yet to transform since the summoning over a month ago. It was a hurdle he would need to overcome eventually. Danny couldn't fight ghosts as Danny Fenton, not without blowing his secret or ruining the work he was doing with the ghosts, but his obsession was pulling at him more and more every day. Talking to the ghosts helped, but it wasn't enough. He had to protect everyone, but more than that, he had to protect their dreams, even if it meant sacrificing his own and becoming a monster. But his friends and family seeing him, or rather, seeing Phantom again . . . he wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

And then a shiver ran through him and as he exhaled he saw his breath fog in front of him.

"Uh-oh. Are you going to take a look?" asked Tucker as he watched Danny closely. How long was Tucker staring at him?

"No. I should focus on studying." He spit the words out through gritted teeth, ignoring the intense pain in his core as he pushed back against his obsession yet again, wondering if this was the moment his core would break, and as he tried to go back to working on his homework he suddenly heard shouting and screaming from downstairs. Tucker's eyes went wide as Danny bolted for the door, taking the stairs two at a time and making it down just as a couple of green ghosts emitted a strange, blue fog around Tucker's parents and Sam.

"Danny, run!" shouted Sam as she spotted him on the stairs, and then her eyes rolled back as she toppled to the floor while Tucker's parents collapsed back onto their couch.

Danny felt his heart stop in his chest, his ears ringing as his eyes went wide and he trembled. This was his fault. He was so selfish, he shouldn't have ignored it, shouldn't have missed it, and now Sam and Tucker's parents were–they were–

"Mom! Dad!"

"Stay back!" he commanded, Tucker's cries barely audible to Danny over the sound of his own heart hammering in his chest, and he threw an arm out to stop Tucker as the ghosts advanced on them and released more of the strange, blue mist. Without hesitating, Danny threw a shield around him and Tucker. Tucker gasped but Danny ignored it, and as soon as the mist dissipated he fired an ectoblast at the closest ghost, smashing it to bits of awful goo that clung to the walls and carpet. He heard Tucker screaming but didn't care, firing two more rays to destroy the remaining ghosts, and then he ran down the stairs to check on Sam.

"Hey, hey, c'mon, you have to be okay," he whispered, his panic bubbling to the surface once more as he tapped her on the cheeks, and he tried to feel for a pulse but his hands were shaking.

"Let me," said Tucker, kneeling down beside him, and he grabbed her wrist. "It's there. It seems a little slow, but it's there."

"Oh thank goodness," he whispered as his chest ached. "C'mon, Sam, wake up. Please wake up." He tapped her cheeks a little harder, snapped his fingers, but nothing worked.

"Danny . . . how did you do that?" asked Tucker, who was over at the window and watching the street uneasily. When did Tucker stand up? How long had Danny been here beside Sam? He swallowed and bit his lip, trying to stop himself from panicking, but it was a little too late for that.

"Do what?" The words were a half-hearted whisper. Tucker knew, didn't he? How could he not?

"The shield and the ecto blasts, obviously!" Tucker's voice rang out, high pitched and terrified. "Come on, man, that's not–did you lie to us again?! Are you–are you dead? Are you a ghost?"

He froze, swallowing as he glanced down at the scar on his hand, and then he carefully picked up Sam, doing his best not to jostle her too much. "I don't know."

Tucker groaned, tugging at his beret. "You don't . . . what?"

"Can we bring her to your room? Your parents are on the couch, at least, but I don't want to leave Sam on the floor," said Danny, too worried about everything to think, let alone answer questions, and Tucker nodded as he watched Danny easily carry Sam up the stairs and carefully lay her down on Tucker's bed.

"How can you not know, dude?" said Tucker as soon as he put her down, unwilling to simply let it drop, but why would he?

"Because it's not as simple as you think it is," he snapped, his eyes flashing a brilliant green. Tucker recoiled, stumbling back into his desk and almost tripping over his computer chair, and Danny closed his eyes, tugging at his hair while he forced himself to breathe. "Sorry, I just–it's–I really don't know. I can be a ghost and I can be human, but I can use ghost powers while I'm human and I swear I can feel my heart beating when I'm a ghost, even if it's way slower than it should be. I wish I had an easy answer, and I wish I could tell you what I am, but I don't know."

Tucker's phone buzzed, making an awful beeping sound with it, and he pulled it out. "Uh, dude? There's way more of these ghosts." He held up his phone, showing the notification he got from the Emergency Broadcast System, and Danny pulled out his own, wondering why he hadn't been alerted when he realized the battery was dead. Of course.

"Any idea how many?" Tucker shook his head as he scrolled through a news article, but it didn't matter. Danny had already made up his mind. "I'm going to go help. You stay here, and if you have anything–an ecto blaster, laser lipstick, whatever - get it out and be ready to use it. You should try to get in touch with my parents, too, and let them know you've been attacked. They might be able to help."

"What–what are you going to do?"

"Fight." Swallowing, he turned invisible and intangible as he heard Tucker let out a small squeak, and then he flew out through the roof and looked at the streets below, quickly spotting more of the strange, green ghosts with their eyes sewn shut. There was probably no point trying to talk to them, since the ghosts were clearly nothing more than ectoplasmic constructs, and letting out a shaky breath, Danny forced himself to transform into Phantom for the first time in almost a month.

Donning his Hazmat suit once again was both amazingly comforting and suffocating. He hadn't realized how much he missed being in his ghost form until that moment, his own fears preventing him from remembering the intense feeling of confidence and power he felt whenever he was Phantom, or even the pure satisfaction that came from indulging in his obsession. But the strange itch he felt before was worse, his suit now impossibly claustrophobic, and the power he felt briefly in that moment with Skulker when his suit broke was now desperately seeking release. He could see mist pouring from the tear in his glove, the power seeking any outlet it could, and he knew he needed a way to burn this energy off. At least there were plenty of targets.

"Hey," he said as he landed on the street and shifted fully into the visible spectrum, and his radio crackled loudly as he charged an ectoblast and sent it spiraling towards one of the ghosts.

It smashed into a pile of goo, destroyed instantly, and the other let out an inhuman shriek that sent chills down his spine as it spun a strange cloud of blue energy and aimed it at him, but this time, Danny didn't bother with the shield. The cloud passed harmlessly around him since like a lot of ghostly abilities, the attack wasn't strong enough to get past the suit's ectoplasm resistant properties, and he grinned as he sent another blast flying and destroyed the second ghost.

His relief was short-lived, though, as he spotted another half-dozen nearby. One of the ghosts was in the midst of using that strange, blue energy on someone walking their dog. They were trying to get away, scrambling to pick up the little terrier so they could run faster, but within seconds the person collapsed to the ground, slumping over uncomfortably on the sidewalk, and Danny screamed as he sent another series of ecto blasts at the green ghosts and then rushed over to check on them. He could see their chest rising and falling slowly, their eyes closed, as their dog whined softly at him.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Pretty sure he's just asleep, maybe? Can you keep an eye on them?" The dog whined again as he got back to his feet, and as he looked around he noticed dozens of other people around him were unconscious, snoring away in their cars and on benches. As he peered through the windows of a nearby house, he could see another person slumped over in their chair at the dinner table, face resting in a plate of pasta.

He felt his core twinge painfully again in his chest, his obsession screaming at him to fix it, fix everything, somehow, even though he didn't know what was happening, and then he heard the sound of a jet sled behind him.

"Phantom!" called Val, jumping to the ground as her hoverboard vanished. "Any idea what's happening?"

"No clue." He swallowed uneasily, knowing that Phantom shouldn't know yet about what happened with Danny. But with Tucker knowing as much as he did now, what was the point? The dots would be easy for him to connect, and no doubt he'd tell Sam and Val and his sister and everyone else. Still, though . . . if there was any chance of keeping his secret intact, however small, he would take it. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"No. Danny already explained what happened, about what he is, and I–look, I'm sorry about what happened," she said quickly, and he felt more than saw her staring at him, her helmet obscuring her eyes. "But, um, are you like okay right now?"

"No." He wanted to laugh, scream, and cry all at once. Val caring about him as Phantom was something he wanted for ages, for her to genuinely treat him like an ally and a friend rather than a temporary reluctant partner, but right now there was too much going on for him to enjoy it.

"I can take care of this, y'know. If you're–"

"I'll be fine," he snapped, and he winced, his tone harsher than he meant it to be, but he couldn't do this right now. There were more important things to worry about.

"Hey, um–I really am sorry, okay? We got it wrong. About you. You were right. We should have–I should have known better," she said softly, misinterpreting why he snapped at her. Danny gritted his teeth, wanting to yell at her about how this wasn't the time to rehash their old feud or worry about something that seemed like an eternity ago, but she was trying her best, and he knew how hard it had to be for her to admit she was wrong about him. Val wanted to help, and static crackled over his radio as he tried to release a long, slow breath to calm down. He shouldn't be this anxious or upset or angry, he knew that, but everything felt so horribly wrong from the way his suit itched to his town being overrun to just being Phantom again to Tucker knowing, maybe everything, maybe nothing, despite his efforts over nearly two years to keep everything from his friends and his family about his alter ego.

"Thanks," he forced out, and at least it sounded a little less curt this time. "Did you talk to Tucker?"

"Foley? What? No. Does he know what's going on right now?"

"Nevermind. It doesn't matter," he lied, and he could tell she didn't believe him, but this really wasn't the moment. It wasn't. They had to take care of this mess before anyone got seriously hurt, so before she could try to figure out what he meant, he asked, "Do we have a truce?"

"Obviously," said Val, rolling her eyes and holding out a hand, and although he hesitated he eventually shook it. "Now let's take care of this ghost problem."

"Can you check in with the Fentons?" he asked. "I think we're going to need their help."

"I've got them on my headset." What? Since when? He tried not to think about it too hard, and after a moment he heard them pick up, their voices barely audible to his slightly enhanced hearing. The relief he felt was overwhelming. At least they were safe, but Tucker and Sam . . . he didn't feel too optimistic about it, with Sam already unconscious and Tucker alone. He shouldn't have left him alone, should he? But he had to in order to fight the ghost, to save everyone else, and–

He pushed the thought down, hard. He could not let himself keep getting derailed by his obsessive thoughts. Not right now.

"No, no, you should stay under the shield at FentonWorks," argued Val, and he could hear his parents on the other end, arguing that they could use the GAV and the portable shield to stay safe, and then his sister asking a question he dreaded. "What? Hang on, I'm with Phantom, let me check with him." She glanced up at him as he stood there, perfectly still, his eyes gleaming on the darkened street. "Did you see Danny? Jazz says she can't get in touch with him. They're worried he tried to go out and help without them."

"No." He considered lying, saying that he found him and told him to hide, but then they would inevitably ask where he was, how to find him, and they would definitely leave the house to go check. "I'm sorry."

"Then we're going out there," said Mom after Val passed along the message. Ugh. Of course they wouldn't stay put.

"Don't! The best thing you can do to help the Huntress and I is figure out where the ghost responsible for all of this is hiding," said Phantom.

"What?"

"These creatures out here aren't sentient. They lack a core. They're constructs, no more than the creations of a more powerful ghost," he explained. "Please. The best chance to help Danny is to find out where this ghost is hiding so the two of us can deal with it. I haven't been able to find it yet and neither has Valerie, but the scanners in the Ops Center should be able to detect any ecto signatures within Amity Park, right?"

"You know an awful lot about our capabilities," said Mom uncomfortably, and he wanted to scream. Here he had Val apologizing to him and tripping over herself to make him feel more at ease, yet his Mom was still almost completely unwilling to trust him despite promising Danny she would do that very thing mere weeks ago.

"Of course he does, because Danny trusts him," said Val, " and right now, there isn't anyone else that can help. Please, Mrs. Fenton. He's right. If we want to save Danny and everyone else, we need you and Mr. Fenton to find the ghost."

"Thanks," he said softly, the word barely audible over the static, and Val flashed him a quick thumbs up as his Mom agreed.

"Are you sure you're definitely okay?" She gestured at his hand. "You seem kind of tense and your, uh, glove is smoking."

"It's fine," he lied as they waited for his Mom to update them. He would be fine. He could burn off the excess energy later, safely somehow, and hopefully that would fix it. Hopefully. That had to be all this was, right? Just too much power, too much energy contained within the suit with nowhere to go but the tear in his glove. He shouldn't have gone so long without transforming.

"We're picking up on two strong ecto signatures," said Mom. "One belongs to Phantom, but there's another one at the old mattress factory. Red, I can text you the address."

"Sounds good, Mrs. Fenton."

"Jack's going to go look for Danny in the GAV," she added, and silently Danny cursed. Of course his parents would try to find him no matter what. Hopefully they could take care of this before his Dad got himself hurt. "Jazz and I will stay here."

"Okay. Tell him to be careful. We'll call back once this is over," said Val as she hung up. Her phone pinged a minute later with the address. "It's all the way across town on Washington Street. You need a lift?"

"No." He knew where it was, so he didn't wait for her to say another word as he vanished from sight, and he heard her mutter a curse under her breath as she summoned her hoverboard and flew off. Once she was gone, he switched back to his human form and then teleported.

He hated teleporting, especially after what happened with the summoning. The world twisted and spun, his body becoming both nothing and something in a blink, his lungs both too full of air and squeezed too tight. The moment lasted an eternity but was over in an instant as he reappeared outside the warehouse, and with a quick glance he changed back to his ghostly form before entering the building without waiting for Valerie.

Which, in retrospect, was probably the worst idea he had in some time given the absolutely massive ghost inside the warehouse, but in his defense, Danny rarely worked with anyone else as Phantom. He wasn't used to having any backup to wait for. Most days he was more worried about ending the fight before Val or his parents came along and tried to shove him inside a thermos.

Filling most of the building, the ghost was black as a void and full of twinkling stars, an uncanny reflection of his own ghostly form beneath the suit. He had two massive, curled horns and deep, red eyes, and his face was pale and narrow. He had no legs that Danny could see - instead, they were just swirling, black tendrils that seemed to creep into every corner of the factory.

"I'm guessing you won't leave even if I ask nicely, will you?" said Danny, and the ghost chuckled.

"Liminal child." Danny felt his veins run cold. Another ghost knew the truth. Sidney first, and now this one, but where Sidney had an excuse, Danny had never even met this ghost before.

"How did you know?" he asked, and his radio crackled with static, his nerves getting the better of him.

"I am Nocturn, the ghost of sleep, the king of dreams," he intoned, "and I know everything you have ever dreamed of, Daniel Fenton."

The use of his name hit like a train, making his stomach twist in knots, and he was now very, very glad that Valerie wasn't with him even as he realized he was probably outmatched here. "What do you want?"

"What I want, I already have, liminal child. Your dreams, the dreams of everyone in this town, are rightfully mine for the taking."

Danny felt his core twinge, his obsession screaming at him to attack, to stop the ghost. He never before encountered one that triggered it as intensely. "No,' he snarled, and he charged, firing a massive ecto blast at Nocturn.

The blast did seemingly nothing - instead it was merely swallowed up by the endless void and swirling stars, and he shifted, pulling on his ice powers, his eyes gleaming blue as he sent the shards at one of the tentacles, probing to see what damage it might do. It seemed to work for a moment, the tendril freezing and then shattering, but Nocturn regenerated it within seconds.

"Child, you cannot defeat me in this way, not when all of Amity Park is dreaming," sighed the ghost, sounding bored, and then it was gone for a moment before it appeared behind him, the blue mist encompassing Danny in a thick cloud.

His suit protected him from the ghost's minions, but he felt the cloud penetrate deeper, seeping through the thinnest of cracks in his suit and overwhelming what protection it provided, until he felt his legs give out beneath him and then–

–he was in his basement, the portal before him. His parents were so disappointed it didn't work, but maybe he could fix it. Danny had been tinkering with his parents' inventions for ages, learning the ins and outs of them. He wasn't always as smart as his mom or as creative as his dad, but he was close, a good blending of the two that allowed for a balance there that helped him see solutions they missed.

The hazmat suit he pulled on weighed heavily, the respirator probably not necessary, but none of the other protective equipment in the lab fit him, most of it made for someone much taller or larger than he was. Walking forward, he carefully avoided the massive cables running along the floor as he entered the portal, flashlight in hand.

The problem was immediately obvious - someone, probably his Dad, installed a control panel on the inside of the portal. The massive red and green buttons sat there, and he began to reach out when he realized he ought to make sure the power on the outer panel wasn't engaged already. Danny turned quickly, unthinking, and felt something snag his boot, sending him spiraling downward. He reached out to grab something, anything that would stop his fall, but instead he heard a soft 'click' as the bright, green button locked into place beneath his hand.

There was no time. He screamed as the portal activated, the electricity flowing through him, his skin burning and–

–he was in the hospital. His parents left to go grab some food from downstairs now that he was awake, figuring he might want something better to eat. His brain felt like mush, patchy, unsure, his memories trapped at the bottom of an impossibly deep well. There was something very wrong with him, even though his parents and sister were pretending everything was fine.

Another shiver ran through him and he felt a slight, sharp pain in his right arm, and suddenly one of the machines started beeping. Looking down, Danny noticed that the IVs attached to him on that side no longer were, but that wasn't what horrified him the most.

His arm was gone. Invisible.

Eyes wide, Danny glanced at the door where he could hear the sound of doctors and nurses headed his way, and without thinking about it he jumped out of the bed, ripping some electrodes painfully off his chest as he bolted through what he hoped was a bathroom door, using his one visible hand to do it. "No no no no no no no," he whispered as he closed it tightly behind him, and he could hear a nurse calling for him on the other side. He barely avoided having her see this . . . well, whatever this was.

His arm was gone, but it wasn't. A weird feeling that was not quite like the pins and needles sensation he felt when his arm fell asleep ran through it and buzzed around his missing fingers. "What the hell is happening?" he whispered.

"Danny, are you in there?" called the nurse. "I'm going to come in a minute if you don't answer, okay? I just need to make sure that you're not hurt."

"I'm fine!" he squeaked back as he tried to touch his arm but felt nothing. His arm was definitely there before, right? It wasn't amputated because of the accident? He saw it, right?

Pushing up his sleeve, he knew then that whatever this was, amputation wasn't it. Where his invisible arm met the visible part of his body was just a weird sort of fuzziness, a kind of blur like hot air rising from the pavement on a summer day. "Please come back," he whispered, ignoring the nurse. "Please come back. I can't . . . I can't be a—

–his eyes snapped open for a moment, stars sparkling overhead as he tried to get up, but a blue mist engulfed him again and–

–the cardiologist sighed. Dr. Nguyen, Danny thought? His memory was getting better, but there were so many doctors and nurses and others whose names he needed to know now that he found himself losing track. "You sure you don't want your Mom in here?"

Danny nodded. He didn't know what the news was, but he knew it couldn't be good. His palms were sweaty and trembling, his heart racing rapidly as he tried to breathe. The doctor figured it out, didn't he? That he wasn't completely alive and was now some kind of half-dead freak?

Or maybe he was actually dead. Maybe Dr. Nguyen was going to tell him his heart stopped months ago, that his face wore a mask exactly like Spectra's, that underneath he was nothing more than a monstrous ghost.

"You have bradycardia. Do you know what that is?" Danny shook his head. "It means that your heart rate is lower than average. Right now, Danny, your heart rate is about 45 beats per minute and hasn't improved. It's possible you might feel some dizziness, fatigue, confusion. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah." He flipped over his hand, touching the round scar on his palm. "Is there anything you can do?"

"If it gets worse, there are options, mostly surgical ones like a pacemaker, but for now we'll want to continue to monitor you and do some more tests first," he replied. "Based on what we've looked at so far, we're not expecting it to resolve on its own. We have some medications and things you'll need to avoid, and . . ."

The doctor didn't know about his ghost powers. Danny should feel ecstatic, and yet as the doctor continued to speak, all he could think of was his dream of going to outer space, and in his mind he could swear he heard a hammer pounding the nails into his coffin, his dream as dead as—

—Sam stormed away, throwing her hands up. "You really don't care, do you?! You missed his birthday, Danny, of course he's upset! But he doesn't even feel like he can get mad at you anymore because of your accident or whatever and it's just–don't you care?!"

"Sam, I–I–" His voice faltered. He wanted to scream. To tell her that he almost died, that he was dead, that he was wrong and nothing made sense and that it hurt, but instead he fell silent as she continued to walk away and–

—He blinked, again, trying to stay awake, trying to push down the memories that haunted his sleep, that made up his nightmares alongside the far, far worse ones that creeped up. He needed to stop Nocturn, he needed to–

–His parents stood over him. He was chained to a table, sobbing, begging them to let him go, but they didn't care. They grabbed the scalpel, smiling too wide as they leaned over and–

—a brilliant shot of ectoplasm launched from his open palm, but it was bigger than it was supposed to be. The blast was too powerful, and he could see the building crumble, his family and friends inside–

—a face in the mirror, but not. A void of stars and pointed white teeth and hair that flowed like flames. He reached out, touching it with his clawed fingers, knowing that no one would accept this, that he can't accept this, he's a monster, and he–

—there was an ectoblast, shooting over his head and slamming into Nocturn. Just like with his own, the ghost seemed largely unaffected by it, but it gave Danny a moment to roll onto his stomach and push himself back onto his feet so he could scramble away from the ghost.

"Phantom!" Danny looked up, and he could see Valerie with her massive ecto blaster perched on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Nothing but nightmares, no matter how deep I went," said Nocturn. "I could not get even a single seed to take. You are worthless to me. Have you no dreams, li–"

"-no," Danny interrupted. He doesn't want Valerie to hear the ghost call him a liminal. She would figure it out, figure him out and his secret. "My dreams died the same day I did. It's why I protect the dreams of others. I won't let you keep stealing them."

"I don't steal, I harvest," said Nocturn. "As could you, if you allowed yourself to be who you truly are beneath that suit."

"What?"

"I know what you crave, child. What the emptiness and void you feel within you means." Danny suppressed a shudder, his obsession screaming once more as he realized what Nocturn meant, as he finally understood a part of what had been wrong with him for weeks. "Hey, Red?"

"Yeah?"

"I have an idea, but you need to go wake up as many people as you can," said Danny. He knew it was an impossible task, but she couldn't be in this warehouse. Not if his desperate, awful plan worked.

"They won't wake up. I've tried–"

"You can't be here right now. I know you probably can't wake them up, but please. Try."

"Phantom, you shouldn't be alone. You can't win by yourself, he already–"

"-I don't want to hurt you," he said as his eyes turned blue and he let the ice creep up his left arm. "Please. Val. I can handle this. You need to go."

He saw her flinch at the sight of the ice, knowing she would remember from the fight with Skulker that felt so long ago now. "You get five minutes," she said. "Be careful." Val turned her jet sled away and Danny watched as some of Nocturn's minions pursued her. Hopefully they wouldn't catch her. He knew she couldn't wake anyone up. He didn't know how he did, how he could, except that he . . . Nocturn . . . they were the same, in a way, and his stomach twisted at the thought. He could feel Nocturn trying to feed, trying to harvest, to pull the dreams of others to him in a way that reminded Danny uncomfortably of Spectra.

Were all ghosts this way, or was he, like Nocturn and Spectra, some particularly awful type of ghost? He knew there were others that could feed on emotions and things that were almost abstractions, like when thirteen fed on people's luck. He didn't want to be like that, to be that kind of ghost, but if he was right and Nocturn was telling the truth, then he could do it, too.

Maybe he could take the stolen dreams back from Nocturn. Give them back, somehow. But the words felt like a lie he was telling himself even as he pushed forward, knowing that for his plan to work, he had to abandon his Hazmat suit. He knew it with a certainty that was impossible to put into words, and so he let the ice creep over it, a barrier between him and Nocturn as the ghost watched him curiously, obviously not feeling remotely threatened, until he let out a breath and then let the ice, and his Hazmat suit, shatter.

The suffocating, almost impossible itch he felt since the fight with Skulker vanished in an instant, replaced by the sense of being consumed by fire, his body feeling as if it were being torn to pieces by his own horrifying power. He hated this, and as he glanced down at his clawed hands, the glowing Lichtenberg figure on his arm and chest, and the star-like points traveling along the shadows coating his skin, he screamed in horror. In anguish. In anger.

And then it became more than a mere scream, his power channeling through it, and he felt it shake the warehouse as it built and layered upon itself, the power continuing to escalate, as it destroyed everything. The strange, stitch-eyed ghosts were obliterated, and he could see Nocturn's form curl in on itself, wavering and shrinking as the scream continued, and then as Danny felt himself weakening, he instinctively twisted something inside himself and pulled, reaching out and grasping at the dreams Nocturn stole to fill the hole inside himself.

Images from dozens and dozens of dreams overwhelmed his mind, his stomach churning, but he continued to pull relentlessly, feeling his power growing despite the massive energy released through his scream. The side of the factory began to crumble, and he watched as Nocturn shrank, reduced to nothing but a speck as the building began to collapse. His hands went to his side automatically, snatching his thermos and sucking the ghost inside, and the dreams Danny fed on and that filled his head were gone (because oh, no, he fed on dreams, he did that, no better than Spectra, there was no giving them back), cutoff in an instant as he collapsed to his knees and the building began to crumble around him. His whole body felt raw, an exposed wire, and his core ached painfully in his chest, but he couldn't focus enough to change back. Couldn't grasp that tiny, warm light of humanity inside himself even though he could feel it faintly glimmering just beside his core. But he needed to escape. Even in his ghost form, he doubted he could survive an entire building collapsing on top of him.

His stomach churned at the idea, but he had to teleport. FentonWorks wasn't a good idea, not if the ghost shield was up, since he didn't know what would happen if he tried to teleport through it. But with the state he was in, if he tried anywhere that he didn't have a strong connection to, Danny worried that he might not make it. Theoretically he could teleport anywhere, but in reality, it was always easier to go somewhere that felt like home.

And gripping the thermos tightly to his chest, he picked the only spot he could think of, hoping they would forgive him, hoping they wouldn't hate him as his world twisted and spun and he flung himself back to the home of his oldest friend.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and favorites and just continuing to read - I really appreciate it. Just a heads up that the update schedule for this may get a bit erratic - I work at a place that goes through an accreditation cycle, and, well, it's here so my next few months are going to be filled with lots of overtime. Plus the next chapters need to be a bit more heavily edited than the previous ones.

Also, I wanted to note one of the sources of inspiration for this fic, which is the containment breach au (a kind of variant on hazmat au) on tumblr by aterfish. I'd link it here, but I don't think I can and honestly, even if you technically can, I'm not going to try because I've had weird errors with posting chapters on here before. Point is, please check it out. I've changed a lot about it for this fic here (some things about the suit like the radio and how it doesn't fall apart, how I imagine his look beneath the suit, etc), but I still wanted to point to it since it's pretty much what made me want to write a fic in this AU in the first place.