Disclamer: I do not own Danny Phantom in any way shape or form. If I did? Oh, the things I could do….

This Chapter Contains the Following: Cursing and mild violence

A/N: Took forever, right? Well, too bad! Because it's here now!


Chapter 4: Waiting

"How much of human life is lost in waiting."


Danny?

It sounded so soft and so distant, like he was dreaming and he very well might be…

"Danny?"

This voice of an angel, he swore. It was all white and lovely and soft against his ears. He swore it was familiar too. Calling him maybe…

"Danny?"

Calling…

"DANNY!"

A gasp of air entered his lungs as he shot up in bed, and right after pain coursed through his whole body. He had a headache and he was hot and his whole body just hurt in general. His vision was foggy with sleep for a few seconds. There were these figures in front of him, blurry, but there. Slowly they formed into the two worried faces of his best friends: Sam and Tucker. They both had these horrified mixed with worry looks written all over their faces. He was confused. Wasn't he—

"Where—"

It's then that he realized those posters were from his room, and when he let his head fall back it fell on his soft pillow instead of hard ground. It gave him some sort of relief, just to know where he was, and Sam and Tucker were safe. He was in his room, after all, and everything was fine. All of that was just a dream, anyway. Another horrible dream to add to his long list, to shove and cover up in his closest forever, until it all finally broke out when he was thirty to give him an unhealthy mental break down where he would go on some killing spree…

His thoughts were rambling, which made his head hurt all the more. So, he stopped thinking and just basked in the moment. It was all over.

"Danny! Wake up, man! What is wrong with you?" Sam shook him out of his comfort, forcing him to open his eyes and stare at them both. "Dude, why did you freak out like that and run out of class?"

His calm was gone. That happened?

"Yah," Tucker's turn to come in and ruin his whole look on life. "We found you on top of a hill in the rain. You were bleeding, Danny!"

His eyes went wider. Oh shit.

Danny flung the covers off of his torso, looking down with wide, fear filled eyes at what he saw. His stomach was all bandaged up where little cuts broke into the skin, and there were bruises too. Deep dark spots on his tan skin. His eyes flew to his wrist. Same bruises there. That had to mean it wasn't just a dream. It was real.

"You guys have to get out of here!" He screamed, not really knowing what else to say. He couldn't explain it. Not now, and not if he was going to come back! Sam and Tucker just had to get as far away as possible. As far away.

Again, he forgot how stubborn they both were when it came to him, especially when it came to him and crazy shit like this. Crazy ghost shit, probably. And they were right. His friends stood their ground, arms crossed over their chests in defiance with the same attitude in their eyes. They wanted answers that he couldn't give.

"Please," Danny knew his voice sounded too close to breaking at this point, and just over the edge of begging. "You have to get out of here. Get away. Or I need to get away or—"

"We're not going anywhere."

"Not without knowing what is going on."

He looking at them both then sighed. "Where are my parents?" because they should have been in there by now. "And jazz?" because she should have been there too, not Sam and not Tucker.

"Downstairs." Tucker replied, motioning to his door. "Do you know how hard it was to get them out of here? So freaking stubborn!"

And he wouldn't mention that it was exactly how they were being right now.

"Danny, we found you in the rain, on top of a hill, passed out or something. What the fuck?"

Another sigh. He clenched his fists, gripping his bed spread until his knuckles went white. "I can't…" and he released the blanket. "I can't say."

"Yes you can!"

"No, I can't!"

"Yes—"

"SAM!"

And it got her quiet, because he didn't scream at her very often. Or maybe it was just the desperate in his face or how pathetic he just seemed in general. Either way, she shut up and everything got quiet. They didn't bother him this time, because somehow they just knew it was more serious than they thought it was. It wasn't just some stupid joke or some stupid problem they faced everyday like the Box Ghost or whatever. This was giving Danny nightmares and bruises and making him freak out in class. It wasn't something they could just talk about and make it all better. He needed serious help.

"Please…" His voice was broken and cracked and weak. "Get out. I'll explain everything later. When I know what's going on myself. I just…don't want you guys getting hurt, okay?" He tried to say this with the most sincerity he could, so he could get his point across fully. "Please." This one was more demanding. He didn't meet their eyes, and he didn't look up as they walked out and closed the door.

He just wanted to sleep, or not, because he was sure his evil alter ego would be there, haunting his every step and breathe. He already was, without actually being there. He needed to get somewhere safe, not for himself, but for everyone else. This house wasn't safe; Amity Park just wasn't safe in general. It didn't matter where he went, because he was sure Dan would find him there. Find him, because he promised if he got Danny he wouldn't touch anyone else, and maybe that was enough to protect them. Maybe.

"Danny?"

It was another soft voice, but this one didn't belong to Sam. It was Jazz, followed by his mom and dad. They came in and he quickly covered up under the covers, just in case they didn't already know.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" His mom sat at the edge of his bed, pulling off her glove and placing the naked hand on his forehead.

He hadn't realized how hot he was. Her hand was so cold on his head, it felt so good. Danny gave a half-hearted smile towards them. "I think…" They couldn't have known much, or they'd be freaking out. "Just…I did feel well." He was talking about school. Didn't feel well in school, but he hoped they probably knew that.

"So you ran out into the rain? Your teacher said you had sort of a break down in class. Running and scream? Honey, you have a fever! How long have you had it?"

He didn't know he even had one, but they would buy it, because they were worried and his parents. They just wanted some logical answer as to why their son was sick and freaking out and mentally ill. "I uh…don't know. I didn't feel well when I woke up this morning, but I didn't think it was this serious…" Now he was even feeling faint, and he wanted to just lay back on his bed and sleep, or at least just shut his eyes, because he hadn't actually slept in a while.

"Oh, my poor baby!" His mother was hugging his head now, gently, but he still got a face full of her boobs. It still felt good. She might have been the world's best ghost hunter (but don't tell his dad that) but she was a mom first, and she knew how to do that part really well. She was a great mom. "You rest up, get some sleep. I'll bring up some soup for you when you're awake, okay?"

Danny nodded with half-lidded eyes, watching his parents walk out. He rolled over onto his side, pulling the covers up higher over his head, trying to ignore the other person in his room. Still.

"Danny, I—"

"Not now Jazz. My head hurts."

"I saw the bruises. You know you can tell me anything right, Danny?" He didn't answer. "Danny…?"

"Jazz," He rolled back over and sat up, staring and glaring at her as best he could. "I just want some sleep. When I need to tell you, I will."

She believed it, and also walked out.

Now he was alone.

So he finally let out the sob.

What was he going to do? All he had was hours or day or weeks or however it took for Dark Danny to stop playing with him. Did he really have that long? The evil half could have killed him. He could have just gotten it over with, but he didn't. He didn't kill him or Sam or Tucker or anyone in his family. They were all still there and alive, meaning he still had a chance, right? They could still beat him. Clockwork—

"He won't save you this time." The voice in his head that sounded too much like the one that whispered into his ear from earlier said this, making him feel sick to his stomach as the words took effect.

Clockwork wasn't there? So what did Dan do? Did he trap him somewhere, or…

Another wave of nausea.

He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. How do you kill the dead anyway? They're already dead! It was impossible! It had to be! Dark Danny was just lying, like he always did. He was lying. That's how it worked, so he could make Danny insecure and worry, making him feel like there was no hope at all for peace and harmony again, when really there was.

The teen tried to continue these thoughts, tried to keep his spirits high as he lay in bed feeling like total shit, he really did. It wasn't his fault, but his hope had run out sometime ago, and his heart was telling him, truly telling him, that Clockwork wasn't coming to save him this time, and it wasn't because he was stuck somewhere. It just wasn't.

So he let out another sob, curling in on himself, ignoring the pain this caused in his stomach. What was he to do now? He was broken and beaten. Was there anything he could do? He was nothing compared to his evil side. Dark was bigger, stronger, and knew how to use his powers. Sure, he could try the ghostly wail again, but even that hadn't actually worked. He had still failed in the end, when the fire started and the explosion went off. He didn't save them the first time around, Clockwork did, so what gave him the idea he'd be able to save them this time, or even save himself?

Deep down, he knew he was doomed.

All he would do was wait.

He couldn't really tell how long it was. The clock's glowing green numbers by his bed side blurred together whenever he managed to open his eyes and look at it. He'd also not been able to stay awake. The fever he had was worse than he expected, his brain must be boiling inside his body, along with all his other organs, at least that's how he felt. He knew it could happen, because somewhere along the lines of his feverish thoughts was how someone could die because there insides boiled up when they had a high enough fever. It was some random thing he must have picked up in science…

He'd started to hallucinate too, he swore. It felt like he was one some drug as his posters and walls swirled into each other, and the pictures and stuffed animals from years ago were laughing at him. He could picture them all as clowns with big smiles and wide, red and white faces…laugh at him. Laughing. They didn't think he could do it, that he was ever good enough. He could never save the world, not from this, not from him. It didn't work that way, and they smiled and laughed from across the room as Danny tried to scream, but every time he made a noise louder than a groan, he almost puked. All he could do was cover his head with his pillow until the fever and the laughter overloaded his mind, making his whole body shut down and the boy pass out.

Somewhere in between his fever-sleeps and moving walls, his mother or sister had come in with soup, because once when he woke up there was a bowl of chicken noodle sitting there on his side table. He would have eaten it, because it felt like he hadn't eaten anything in weeks, but his body refused to move. Other times when his eyes closed, he woke again with ice or cool cloths on his forehead, pills next to the soup that wasn't hot anymore, glasses of water…

It worried him. Danny told them not to come in, because it was dangerous. And they were. Though, it really didn't matter, because Dark would just go down stairs and kill them anyway…he needed to get out. Get out. Get out. Get out! GET OUT!

The ranting in his head put him back into a sick sleep where he had little snippets of nightmares, images that didn't get to be complete because he woke up to fast. Pictures and films of bright lights, blood, bombs, deer, cars, and they all seemed to come out of an abstract artists mind, for none of them were ever straight forward, or had odd colors…it must have been the fever. That's what he told himself.

He wasn't going crazy. No.

It was the fever…

He would just wait.

There was a crash in his dreams.

He wanted to puke.

Blue eyes opened wide, bending over his bed to the garbage can that lay right next to him, just in case. Someone had come in and moved it closer when he was sleeping. Danny gave out a drive heave, probably because there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. His stomach didn't know that, so he did it again and again until all he could feel was stomach acid in his throat and an ache in his lungs. His stomach felt like it was trying to destroy itself. Why had he…?

His half lidded eyes looked down at his floor, noticing the wet spot and the glass shards scattered around the carpet. The water had fallen from his table, probably from him knocking it over in his sleep. No big deal. Someone would come in and clean it up when he was passed out again…

He turned; finally deciding his stomach was done with its heaving, and curled up on his bed again. The covers were long gone, leaving him in only a pair of boxers. He wasn't sure if he had on an actual pair of pajamas at one point, but now it didn't matter. He was hot and cold at the same time; sweat that chilled his too warm flesh slid down his body, soaking the sheets all around him. He almost wished the fever would boil his insides already.

His head hit the pillow, and he took in a breath.

Let it out in a puff of smoke.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Slee…

Smoke?

No.

His breath.

He shot back up, but a cold hand was already wrapped around his throat, slamming his head back against the backboard of his bed, sending his vision spinning with stars and all the images and laughter he remembered. He couldn't breathe.

He almost passed out again, because his head was spinning and his fever was coming back stronger and he couldn't breathe, but he stayed conscious, because he had to. For them. Just in case…

"Hello, dear Danny…" The voice was smooth, calm, and filled with a thick sort of lust for…he couldn't tell if it was blood or not. He didn't want to think about it. Too bad he didn't see it as a dream, not this time at least. Those thoughts were long gone, because he refused to be so naïve. That would only mean he would live in denial, going even crazier as he saw them all slaughtered, thinking it was all a dream again. That's not how he wanted it. If it all happens, the way it was supposedly supposed to, he still wanted to be sane in the end.

He decided that a long time ago, because that's what happened. He went insane, and that is what this creature floating above him was. Insane. Completely.

"Ah—" His voice wouldn't answer back, and it wasn't just because his windpipe was being crushed. His mind couldn't function. Not with him being sick and all the pressure and heat.

"Oh, no need to say anything else. I just didn't want to keep you waiting so long…"

It scared him to think that Dark Danny was just playing with him. He knew he was playing with him too, making him wait and wait and wait. Suspense and surprise—that's what the ghost lived for.

Danny saw him through hazy eyes, watched him grin, and felt him squeeze harder. He knew he wouldn't die. That would be too easy. Too quick. It wasn't Dan's style. Oh no. He'd draw out the pain and suffering and death…

"Danny?"

Both of their heads snapped towards the boy's door. The voice was of his—or rather, their mother. Threw the silence they could hear her footsteps coming up from the stairs. She must have heard the glass fall, or Danny being slammed again the wall.

She couldn't come up here. She couldn't enter. She could see him. Not now. Please!

"Dan-"

"M-MOM! N-"

Another slam of his head against the wall, and everything went black for a second.

He heard the door open.

A gasp. A laugh, thick with some sort of wicked humor.

No.

"It seems mommy dearest has arrived…" The whisper came to his ear, right before the scream.

"DANNY!" He saw from the corner of his eye as his mother pulled out a gun from her thigh, pointing right at Dark's head. She would hit him, or at least come close to it, because she was such a good shot, but that didn't mean she was going to be able to do anything. It wouldn't matter. Not with him… "Monster! I'll give you three seconds to put my son down!"

By this time, fast and heavy feet were coming up the stairs too. He wished it wasn't all of them. He wished those noises weren't so familiar. Sam's boots, his dad's suit, Tucker's frantic intakes of breath, Jazz's calls. They would all be there, all in danger.

"St—"

"Danny—Oh my god! Is that—"

"Dan?! What is he doing here!?"

If only he could scream at them all to leave. His fingers were clawing at the hand that wrapped around his throat, feet kicking at his bed sheets, tangling his legs around them.

"One."

She was ready. His dad was ready too. They would try, and fail, and die.

"Two."

Dark Danny just laughed, the noise making the whole room shake, and Danny could feel it run all threw his body, cracking his very soul.

"Go ahead. Try. He'll be dead by the time you pull the trigger." And it was a test. Dark wanted his mother to shoot, just so he had an excuse to attack, like he actually needed one. It was a game, as usual.

His mom didn't know, so her finger was starting to slip. His eyes met with Dark's, his red ones staring into his, mocking him. The hand around his throat loosened; it wasn't on accident. It was part of the game, and he had to play along. If only if it will give them more time.

"Go ahead Danny…" His darker half whispered so only he could hear. "Save them."

The sound of a gun.

He screamed.

"STOP!"

And everyone froze.

He turned back to Dark. "You promised. You promised if you got me, you wouldn't touch them. So you have me! Don't hurt my family."

He saw the smile on the ghost's lips widen.

"Danny what are you talking about? You made a deal with this freak?" Sam spoke up, drawing too much attention to herself.

"Don't worry. I'll be fi—" He thought it was his fever again, but when he would awake, he would figure out it was Dark Danny who had knocked him unconscious. Darkness consumed him, and he didn't know what was going to happen anymore. There was nothing he could do; everything was out of control and this time he couldn't save the day, save the world, or himself.

So his mind sat in this darkness. It wasn't sleep, because there were no nightmares, and no peace. It was just this black space where he would wait. Just wait. Forever.

A/N: Well. That's done…finally, right? Gah. You want to know why I actually finally finished this? I had serious writers block with this, but guess what? My brother got me all the Danny Phantom episodes for x-mas, which was awesome, plus I found my muse again, which comes in the form of a music video….yay! I'll hopefully update the next chapter within the month.