5. Escape

Lancer drummed his fingers on the table, patiently waiting for the milk to heat up.

He curiously peered up at his latest houseguest.

Danielle was rummaging through everything he owned. Her blue eyes twinkled with unhidden interest as she silently absorbed everything she saw.

The ghost—if that's what she truly was—drifted from his movies cabinet to the bookshelf where she pulled out an album.

The television was on. Channel 87 was playing a movie, although neither of the two was paying attention.

The girl smiled when she noticed him pouring hot cocoa into their mugs.

After nearly fifteen minutes of snooping, she finally plopped down on the couch.

Lancer stiffened when he recognized the album she had picked up.

He sighed and took a seat by her, handing her the mug.

She took a sip and turned to the first page, a wide smile lighting up her face.

Lancer scooted closer but tried to maintain a comfortable distance, so as to not make her uncomfortable.

The photo she had chosen to study held an image of Lancer when he was young, standing beside a face he hadn't seen in years.

"That picture was taken 1983," he explained. "I was a freshman in college."

"Is this you?" Danielle pointed to the man on the left.

"Yup. And that was my best friend, Quince. He was the cool guy. Tall, blonde, and popular."

Lancer studied the man he once was. He was quite attractive when he was young, with his dark hair and teal-almost-green eyes. Lanky and clearly geeky but still somewhat pleasant to look at.

"Hm," Danielle tilted her head to the side. "You're not ugly."

Lancer rolled his eyes but smiled in spite of himself. "How nice of you to say," he replied, sarcastically.

Her eyes skimmed over a few more pictures. Some were of him at parties or hanging out with friends.

She turned the page and stopped on a picture that caught her attention. "Whoa! Who's that?"

She pointed at an image of a twenty-one year old Lancer standing beside a woman with blonde hair and gray eyes.

"She's beautiful," Danielle commented.

"That was my college sweetheart." He swallowed. "Madison."

"Whoa," Danielle breathed, peering up at Lancer. "She was your girlfriend? How did that happen?"

Lancer smiled, suddenly reminiscent. "I remember the first day I saw her. Quince had thrown a party after this game. When I saw her..." Lancer's voice trailed off. He knew he was being pulled back to that day, but, for once, he didn't mind reliving the past. "She had her hair pulled up and she was wearing a white dress. I remember momentarily mistaking her for an angel. I went up to her. She was conversing with a cheerleader, so, naturally, I was nervous. I wasn't the kind of person to socialize with the 'in' crowd, even though I had once been a cheerleader myself."

Danielle scoffed. "You were a cheerleader?"

"Don't interrupt," he replied. "We talked for a long time, even after her friend left. I don't remember what I said that she thought was so funny, but when I heard her laugh..."

He smiled. "Oh, that was it for me. I was head over heels in love."

"That's so sweet." Danielle's gaze fell back to the album.

She turned pages, peering over at the pictures of the couple.

"So, you guys went to the same school together?" Danielle queried.

"Yep." Lancer sighed. "I was double-majoring in Liberal Arts and Humanities, minor in History. After that, I went for a Masters in English Literature." He paused. "She was studying art. Good at it, too, although her family resented her for that."

"So, are those her paintings?" Danielle's eyes lifted to the beautiful portraits on the wall. "Yup." He smiled. "She loved painting. Sometimes she would just go out and paint for hours. Or she would sit and play the violin. Always outside, though. She loved the fresh air."

Danielle turned to the last page.

Madison was standing beside Lancer, one hand around his waist, the other resting over his heart, revealing a brilliant diamond ring.

Her eyes bulged. "You were engaged?"

"Yes." Lancer nodded. "The day I proposed was the most terrifying day of my life. By then, I had already come to realize she was my soul mate, but I was still taking a big risk asking. Her family absolutely despised me, and I couldn't compare to her ex-boyfriend—a lawyer her family wanted her to be with. Oh," Lancer's eyes twinkled, "but when she said yes, I was the happiest man in the world."

"What happened?" Danielle queried, curiously.

"Life," Lancer replied, simply.

A melancholy settled over his eyes, and he turned away from her.

Familiar memories began to flood through him, an emotional deluge that he'd been desperately trying to avoid for many years.

He clamped down on the sentiments and quickly diverted his attention back to the girl who was staring at him with sympathetic eyes.

"I suppose you would like to see where you will be resting for the night."

"Um, yeah. Right." Danielle nodded.

Her gaze fell back to the album, and she silently shut it.

He knew, intuitively, that she had recognized the pain in his eyes. He was grateful for her understanding but felt that this would not be the end of their heart-to-heart conversation.

Still, Lancer was not ready, nor was he capable of divulging his story without getting overemotional.

He rose to his feet and walked. Danielle followed.

He led her into another room.

The area was large compared to the other chambers in his house.

It had a single bed, a black dresser, and a matching nightstand.

The bed had black covers draped over it. Lovely, light blue designs reached up from the foot of the bedding and ended near the top. Black, white, and light blue pillows had been neatly tidied on the bed, untouched, as they had been for a long time.

A white lamp with blue designs on the lampshade sat on the nightstand.

A window remained hiding behind a pair of white and sky blue curtains that hadn't been opened in years.

He leaned against the doorframe as Danielle stepped in.

"This is a girl's room," the young ghost girl realized with a start.

Lancer once again felt the deluge swell up as he took in the sight of the room.

All he could manage to say was, "I have an extra toothbrush somewhere."

But Danielle wasn't listening.

She had noticed the design painted on the left wall: a few small flowers and butterflies had been intricately entangled into the lovely swirls.

The painting was the shade of sky blue that completed the room's color theme.

"Did your wife draw that?" She queried, turning to Lancer.

"Yes, she did. This was-"

Lancer cut himself off, incredulity wiping away all his overwhelming sentiments.

A blindingly bright, ephemeral flash of light appeared at Danielle's navel, expanding and contracting so quickly that Lancer had almost questioned its appearance.

Danielle winced, which caused Lancer to deduce that the brief flash of light had not been illusory.

She hunched over, arm curling around her abdomen.

"What was that?" Lancer breathed, still suffering from the shock that lingered in him.

He was surprised that this ghost still somehow managed to throw surprises at him.

"Uh," she breathed. "Nothing."

But it was clearly not nothing.

Danielle's lips were pressed together, and her brows were furrowed together.

She trembled just slightly.

Her body language clearly said that she was either under great strain or great pain.

Probably both, Lancer figured.

He opened his mouth to argue. "But-"

"Okay!" Danielle lunged forward, shoving him back with incredible strength.

She began closing the door.

Lancer blinked in surprise, but pushed his palm against the door, preventing her from blocking him out. "Wait! What-?"

She was so surprised that he'd actually attempted to stop her that she did, indeed, pause before closing the door.

He peered inside and met her startled gaze.

"Danielle-"

"Good night, Mr. Lancer!"

She pushed against him and slammed the door in his face.

Almost immediately, the same flash of light broke through the gap between the bottom of the door and the ground, casting a brief, dazzling light across the floor.

The sight startled him, and he pounded on the door.

"Miss Phantom! Are you okay?"

A long, terrifying moment passed before Danielle answered.

He heard her sigh from behind the door. "I'm fine, Mr. Lancer."

There was a certain tone in her voice that Lancer couldn't quite identify. Maybe fatigue or relief.

Whatever the case, Lancer believed her, but he was left reeling with questions, though he was quite certain he was not going to be receiving any answers from her, so he dropped the matter.

"Alright, then. Do-" He paused, exhaling. "Would you still like me to bring you that extra toothbrush?"

There was another moment of silence before she replied. "Yes, please."

He hesitated then turned and walked away from her room.

:~:~:~:~:~:~:

Everything had been going just fine until Danielle's powers decided to go on the fritz again.

The human-ghost hybrid had not been expecting the sudden outburst of energy that exploded at her core, from deep within her.

The energy outburst was, as always, accompanied by a familiar cold that erupted at her core. The white light disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

She shoved down the cold, struggling against the approaching, inevitable change.

She'd felt guilt lash at her for acting so curtly against Lancer, especially at a moment when his eyes had betrayed his vulnerability and sadness.

She'd slammed the door shut in his face, and the energy burst out before Danielle could do anything else.

The blinding white light sprung out. The rings swept across her, changing her appearance.

"Miss Phantom!" The voice queried worriedly from the other side of the door. "Are you okay?"

Fighting the transformation had been unbelievably difficult and painful, which was strange because her transformations had never hurt.

They'd always been harmless: a pleasantly cool, tingling sensation that washed through her.

But not this time.

She placed a hand on her head, overwhelmed with lightheadedness.

She leaned against the wall and waited a few moments to recompose herself, taking a steadying breath.

"I'm fine," she said, finally.

She brushed strands of raven locks away from her face and tucked them behind her ear.

"Alright, then." Lancer replied, though he sounded doubtful. "Do-would you still like for me to find you a toothbrush?"

Danielle peered at the door. "Yes, please." She replied after a moment.

She waited until she heard his footsteps departing before she released a breath of relief.

Danielle took the time to wander around the room.

There was a closet in the room. Opening it confirmed her presumption: empty.

The bathroom was empty, as well. There were no personal items to indicate a resident.

The interior of the desolate cabinets were coated in a thick layer of dust.

She opened an almost-but-not-quite transparent sliding glass door to peer into an empty shower.

She padded back into the room and looked through the dresser's drawers.

Empty.

Like everything else in the room.

Danielle was irked by her lack of findings.

Clearly, her temporary chamber was decorated for a girl with its feminine-styled sheets and pretty furniture.

Lancer's whole house was an enigma that left her with questions swirling around her brain.

Maybe, she thought, Lancer had a daughter.

The room seemed to validate her suspicions.

But, she hadn't seen any family pictures around the house, which is generally what people with families usually did—or, at least, that's what she assumed.

Danielle shook the thoughts from her head.

It had only been two days and already she was empathizing with the man.

For all she knew, Lancer was some freak who randomly kept a girly room because of some weird obsession.

Or he was some serial killer.

But something told her this was not the case.

She'd seen the pain in his eyes, the loss, and she found herself hoping that the conclusion she'd come to wasn't right.

If he'd had a wife and daughter who were not living with them, it could only mean one thing: he'd somehow lost them.

Danielle shook her head adamantly.

She didn't have time to deal with angst.

Determined to ignore her own empathetic emotions, she wandered over to the window, seeking a quiet method for departure.

The curtains' fabric were soft and thin. She pushed them aside to look up at the window.

The frame was wooden, simple, but a quick glance through the glass revealed rotting wood, no doubt because of the rainy season Amity had been going through.

The window itself was big enough for a person to climb through.

Danielle gripped the latches and pulled them, then gripped the Meeting Railing and pulled up.

Of course, the window was stuck.

Months of rain had distorted the frame and held the window in place.

She struggled to open it several times, hoping Lancer wouldn't hear the ruckus she was making but eventually gave up.

She placed a hand on her hips and furrowed her brows in frustration.

Going out through the window would've been easier, less of a chance of getting caught.

Dani didn't want to do much thinking. She just wanted to leave and find Danny, and avoid any goodbyes with the lonely educator that had provided her with a temporary safe haven.

She was beginning to discover that she was no good with goodbyes.

A light tap on the door pulled her attention away from her method of escape.

"Ms. Phantom. I brought a toothbrush, brush, toothpaste, and towel. They're all clean and unused, so you don't have to worry about washing them or anything."

"Okay," Danielle replied. "Will you slide it under the door?"

Lancer did so.

Danielle stalked back across the room and picked up the items she had been given.

"Good night, Ms. Phantom."

She paused before answering. "Night, Mr. Lancer."

Danielle once again waited until the sounds of his footsteps faded, then made her way to the bathroom.

She was determined to leave soon, though she suddenly found herself reluctant to go.

She peered down at the paraphernalia in her arms.

The kind host, the warm room, the shower, the food...

It all suddenly seemed difficult to leave behind.

She closed her eyes, and Danny's face appeared.

All reluctance dissolved, consumed by her resolution to find the one person she cared for most in the world.

:~:~:~:~:~:~:

"I don't understand why you would work with Amorpho." Sam sighed.

Her amethyst eyes wandered to Danny.

"Keep your eyes on the road," he retorted, ignoring her comment. "You're gonna get us killed."

"Danny, there is no road." She sighed but trained her eyes back onto the vast expanse of green that expanded before them.

The group had glided across the otherworld, both sitting snugly in the Specter Speeder. Fortunately, they had encountered no problems since they left the Wild island.

They passed several floating islands and glowing spirits who flashed them curious glances.

An attractive, blonde, humanoid ghost waved at Danny, giggling when he flashed her a small smile.

"You didn't answer my question," she pointed out, pulling Danny's gaze away from the window.

"You didn't ask a question," he retorted.

"Maybe not, but you know perfectly well I expected an answer."

Danny folded his arms. "Why? What's wrong with working with Amorpho?"

"Well, if I remember correctly he pretended to be you and nearly got you killed by your own parents and reeked havoc in our town."

"Yeah, well, Amorpho and I came to a resolution after all the trouble he caused. Plus, he seemed..." Danny paused, pensive, "trustworthy."

Sam's voice resonated with incredulity. "Trustworthy? You think he seems trustworthy?"

Danny shifted uncomfortably. "Sort of. Yeah, I guess."

"Are you kidding? That man's whole existence revolves around being an Impersonator. He lies every single time he takes up someone else's identity. I bet you he's a master manipulator by now and an excellent liar."

"Okay. You have a point," Danny admitted. "But my instincts are telling me that Amorpho's reliable."

"So you partner up with him and decide to make him Vlad's spy before actually ensuring his reliability?" The statement sounded more like a question, which irked Danny.

"Look," he began, "after we rescued Aminah, Vlad told me he knew my weakness and that he'd use them against me. He's made it pretty clear what he meant by that." Danny paused, focusing on the Goth. "You."

"Me?" Sam's gaze met his.

"And-and Tucker." Danny blinked, suddenly self-conscious. He shook off his embarrassment and continued. "And Jazz. And my parents. Basically, everyone I care about."

"Danny-" Sam's eyes welled with sympathy.

"Sam," he cut in, "I don't think you understand. I put the people I care about in danger everyday by constantly making enemies. That's why I've been so wound up lately. I've been scared of Vlad, worrying about who he might go after next." He sighed, exasperated. "I didn't even think...didn't even consider Danielle as a target. She's just been gone for so long, and I-"

It was Sam's turn to interrupt. "Danny, you can't protect everyone."

"But I can try," Danny sighed. "That's why I sent Amorpho undercover. I had to keep tabs on Vlad. And it's a good thing I did. Now I know who he's after, and I have to find her before he does. Danielle's in danger."

"You've made your point." Sam sighed. "Still, you shouldn't worry so much. I'm sure we'll find her."

"How do youknow? We haven't seen Dani since she disappeared on us. All she's done is travel. She's probably in Paris by now."

"Not if she found out Vlad's after her," Sam pointed out. "She's probably hiding someplace safe. You know how much he scares her."

"Even if she did somehow find out that Vlad was after her and decided to hide, it doesn't help me at all. She could literally be anywhere."

Sam raised a brow. "Not anywhere."

"What do you mean?" Danny queried, furrowing his brows, befuddled.

"Well, if Danielle's few visitations have taught us anything it's that she thinks and acts just like you." Sam glanced at him. "Where would you go if you were alone and threatened?"

"I guess if I were in her shoes I'd go find someplace safe. With someone I trusted."

"So, basically, she'd go looking for you." Sam glanced at Danny.

"Me?"

"Makes sense. I've seen how she looks at you. She kind of seems like she admires you. I've seen the way she relaxes when you're around. I think you're the only person she truly trusts in the whole world."

"Still, she hasn't come back," Danny pointed out.

Sam sighed. "You know, for all we know, she could be heading to your house as we speak. Or maybe she can't. Maybe, somehow, something's preventing her from coming to you. There's also the possibility that she doesn't even know she's in danger and is still traveling. Could be anything."

Danny sighed. "I just hope we find her soon."

The concern stirred restlessly in the pit of his core.

A/N: That's all for now. I apologize for taking so long to update.

I've sort of been stuck on this chapter for a long time now.

Anywho, it's finally up and I can move on!

Comments and feedback are always appreciated!