A/N: Sorry this took so long. A huge paper was due Thursday, and I didn't have all that much time. Then, of course, it took some to finish this, so . . . yeah. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any characters associated, nor am I making any money off of this.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day Dr. Jared came to see me. He shuffled in through the door, doing his best to keep it from opening more than half a foot. I sat on my bed, back against the wall, and raised a questioning eyebrow. "What're you doing here?" I asked, my voice stuck in echo-mode.
"I'm here to fill you in. Why else? A friendly chat?" he snapped, and walked up to stand in front of me.
Someone forgot to take their medicine this morning, I thought. "Maybe to cut me open?" I suggested.
He scowled. "Look - they've let me in here to see you one last time. I just work with the people on the other side of the building. But the HNA agreed that it wouldn't hurt to let me finish up one last bit of research."
"Ah."
"I'm not happy about being cut off from you. You're the most unique case I've ever examined in my life - and you could make my career. Those damn Guys in White . . . But look." He reached into his lab coat's pocket and pulled out a booklet and threw it to me. "This is a ghost on advanced ghost physiology. Written by some nameless GIW agent. I want you to have it."
I looked at him. "Why?" Seriously, why?
He chuckled hollowly. "Because I like you, that's why. You're smart, and you've kept yourself as human as you can. And because I will use you to get you to for personal advancement, I owe you something. Might as well be the only thing I can provide, which is better understanding of yourself."
"Which ultimately helps you because me understanding me is often a much better understanding than you understanding me," I reasoned. "Still, thanks, I think."
"How'd you figure that out?" he asked, curiosity overshadowing his bad mood. "Are you a mind reader, too?"
"I have an arch-nemesis who is overly fond of chess metaphors." And that brief bout of insight, my friends, is all Vlad has ever given me.
He looked at me, and smiled, very lightly. "If I hadn't read all those newspaper articles on you, I'd think you were delusional."
"Are you going to tell me what's going to happen to me or not?" My voice broke and it went back to normal.
He looked at the ground sheepishly, and shoved his hands into his lab coat pocket. "I was actually trying to procrastinate," he admitted. "It's not pleasant . . . I gather you've noticed your voice is changing?"
"No, actually," I said dryly. "I didn't notice a thing."
"Ultimately, you're not going to mutate too much. You're going to lose your double-form capabilities, and that already amazing healing power of yours is going to grow ridiculously powerful, and yeah, your voice will be kind of echo-y after it's done changing . . . And I suppose you're going to glow for the rest of your life . . .But really, you're getting off much easier than I thought you would. But . . ."
Great, I thought. If that's the good part . . . I wondered briefly how he knew about the healing thing, but after being submitted to hours of tests, it didn't surprise me he'd figured it out.
I braced myself.
". . . But the GIW have decided that you will make a perfect launch point for a new biological weapon. The number of absolutely deadly diseases squirming around in your human blood is astonishing. And not just human germs, either. Ghost ones. The spreading ghost infestation not only can be stopped, but will be."
I exhaled. I hadn't been aware that I was holding my breath. It didn't sound so bad if all they were going to do was stop the ghosts, but . . . "What about the human ones? What are they going to do with those?"
"I don't know," he confessed. "That's a whole different part of the government."
"And what about me?"
He smiled weakly. "You? You're going to die." He looked at me sympathetically for a moment, then moved on. "I ought to revise one of my earlier statements - I wanted to use your for personal gain. But honestly, even if I still did, there's no way I'm ever going to get within twenty feet of you again." With that, he left, and I fingered the book in my hand without looking at it. He was right; I never saw him again after that.
"Well," I said to no one, "life sucks and then you die, I guess." I swallowed. Who knew? Maybe I'd get out long before they decided it was time to kill me. Maybe they were coming for me as I sat there. But it honestly didn't bother me that theythought I was going to end up dead. That wasn't going to happen. What bothered me was what they wanted me for. I was past the point of being a scientific curiosity; they knew enough about me, and had found a use for me.
They happened to want me for a weapon. So much for keeping me here for the good of the public.
I never did find out what happened to Dr. Jared, or if anything did at all. But I was glad he told me. That way, I'd be prepared.
"I never did anything," I muttered, "other than push a button." I curled up into a ball, and stared at the wall across from my bed. I considered reading, but then I realized it was too dark in here for that. Then a thought occurred to me, and I rolled over, pulling the book out from underneath my back.
I held out my hand to the cover, and was disappointed to find my 'natural' glow was not strong enough. So I sighed and forced power to my hand, hovering it over the book. Spectral Physiology was the rather plain title, and underneath, in place of an author's name, was simply GOVERNMENT ISSUE written in plain text. "Looks interesting," I mused dryly. "They really know how to sell 'em."
Flipping to the first actual page, I started to read. 'I: Basic Properties of Ectoplasm.'
"This is so what I'm getting Jazz for her birthday next year." I laughed darkly, and settled in for the day.
- - -
After spending several hours learning about the physical aspects of how ghosts become intangible, and why I should never, ever eat lemon meringue pie, ever, I was done with the book and officially bored. It was true I then knew way more about myself than I ever wanted to know, and had an awful lot to think about, but I was still bored. In those few months I had been thinking a lot. I was rather sick of it.
Sleep wasn't my favorite option, either. It was, according to my clock, seven in the evening, and I wasn't very tired.
So what did I end up doing? I froze the freaking floor. Then I froze the walls, and then the ceiling. All from the comfort and relative safety of my bed. I kept the corner in which my toilet and shower sat ice-free, but everywhere else became a three-dimensional ice-skating rink. It astounded me later on that I was able to create and control that much ice in human form, but at the time, I thought nothing of it. It was simply a way to relieve the boredom.
I eventually got around to creating tiny ice stalagmites all over the place. I had the absurd thought that if the GIW came in here they'd all slip and fall, and I'd run out.
At eight o'clock I'd run entirely out of things to do, and just forced myself to sleep.
Then, I woke up at eight thirty to a steady and extremely prevalent drip, drip, drip.
The ice was melting.
"Crud," I sighed as I opened my eyes. I'd forgotten: ice doesn't usually stay ice for very long. I sat up, and looked around. Most was still frozen, but there was a layer of water on the floor, it was running down the walls, and the ceiling was dripping. I scowled. This is why you should always leave some form of entertainment if you're going to coop up the ex-super hero with cryokinesis.
Deciding evaporation was probably the best course of action, I blasted the ice with a ghost ray. It only took a few minutes to evaporate it all, but there was still a prevailing wetness everywhere. Sighing, I lay back down. There was still how I was going to spend tomorrow to think about.