Cirque Berserk
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7
Danny Phantom Returns
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Danny slumped against the door in his room two days after the supposed 'Ghost Hunter' incident that still plagued his thoughts twenty-four seven.
The rehearsal had taken a lot more out of Danny than it usually did, mostly because he wanted to straighten out some kinks in his performance and mostly because he desperately wanted it to be perfect.
He stubbornly ignored the little voice in his head that shouted, you're doing this for Sam, aren't you? and continued to drag himself to his bed, where he flopped backwards and released a weary breath of relief.
Another long day had ended.
Tucker had visited him often enough to assure him that their friendship, though still awkward, hadn't drifted to the point of no return. Valerie had even come along with Tucker on one of his visits and he took great amusement in watching his old friend-slash-ghost-hunting-rival melt from surprise, to shock, to utter disbelief at his new appearance.
She even stammered something that sounded strangely like, "W-what happened to you!?" only it was lost in the jumble of other half-stuttered, half-mumbled words she had said.
Tucker and him laughed so hard when he showed her the fake tattoo of the Nasty Burger logo he had posted on his triceps before her arrival that he was sure he busted a gut in that short time.
Needless to say, Valerie was not pleased. And she expressed it so when she stamped on Tuckers foot before sweetly asking (or at least she thought it was sweet, to Danny it sounded like death sentence) what he had been up to in the last couple of years.
Danny had given her the short-cut, edited, version of what he told Tucker in a time span of five minutes.
All those years lying through my teeth about being a halfa really pay off, he mused tiredly, closing his eyes and shifting into a more comfortable position. Good thing tomorrow there's no rehearsal – I don't think I could take another fireball aimed at me...
Just as he was beginning to drift off, to drop the day like a hot coal, he breathed a wisp of blue breath, and he instantly knew there would be no sleep that night.
Year's of transformation allowed him to quickly change into his alter-ego, Danny Phantom, without a seconds hesitation. It was like second-nature to him now; like breathing. Soon he was flying outside, the chilly night air oddly comforting as he tried to located the disturbance.
He saw it in a form of a shadow, splashed across the wall of a rather old building. Every angle seemed enhanced, sharper, as it drifted closer and closer to an unsuspecting civilian. But something felt strange about this entity, something felt wrong about it.
Danny perused it the best he could, as whenever a shadow crossed it path – even a little bit – it seemed to disappear totally and appear in a different place. It looked like a normal ghost from the Ghost Zone. In fact, it looked exactly like those shadow ghosts that dwelled in the deeper, darker, damper parts of the Ghost Zone – the parts that many ghostly friends had told him to never wonder about on his own.
He had asked why many times.
They refused to say a thing.
The civilian checked his watch repeatedly, tapping his foot as he impatiently waited for the bus to arrive and take him to his desired destination. He was oblivious to the nearing ghost. Danny nearly winced when the man took notice of the growing shadow; it's silhouetted fangs dripping with saliva as it raised on clawed hand, as if to swipe.
The instant the man screamed, however, the shadow reclined, receding it's large nails and shrinking against a corner. It seemed to almost writhe in pain at the man's increasing scream. It raked it's nails against the ground, where deep lines were drawn before completely disappearing from sight as a bird's small shadow overlapped it.
Well, that was weird, he scratched his chin, searching for the strange ghost with no luck. All well, maybe now I could get some sleep—
"AHH! GHOST!"
"Where!?" With an ecto-blast ready to launch at a seconds notice, Danny quickly scanned the area before the noticed that the same man was now pointing at him, a terrified expression on his face, and rapidly calling out for... Black Rose.
His ecto-blast was put out with a puff.
Geez, not her again, he grumbled internally. "Sir, I'm here to help you, not harm you."
"GHOST! GHOST! HELP! GHOST! BLACK ROSE! HELP!"
"Great," Danny muttered, scowling."Why do I always get the crazies?" He tried once more, his tone more forceful. "Sir! I'm only trying to help you! There was a ghost stalking you and it—"
"S-Stalking me?!" the man repeated, horrified.
"Yes... but it seems gone now," Danny gave the wall a quick glance. "I think it was just a harmless ghost. Amity Park has a lot of those." Danny didn't want to think about the disembodied entities he usually heard whenever he walked by rather deserted areas. Sometimes he could even see misty bodies or limbs. Ever since he had improved his ghostly abilities, he had been more sensitive to those ghosts that had no definite shape; that simply wondered around a particular area, mourning some tragedy Danny never tried to puzzle out.
The first time he had seen one, which he would say was about two years ago, he had nearly pissed his pants. A limb had been protruding from a cement wall, it's finger's twitching every couple of seconds; as if trying to grasp something untrappable.
Lydia had been there with him when it happened, having gone intangible, and worriedly fussed over him when he had fallen on his behind, pointing at the wall with wide, shocked eyes. He wasn't frightened—alright, maybe he was frightened, but he had gotten over it quickly enough when people stopped what they were doing to stare at him.
Lydia had sternly refused to let him walk around that part of Denver since.
He supposed it was these ghosts that all those so-called "Ghost Hunters" tried to 'connect' or 'talk' to in those shows he watched on TV. Those unfortunate lost souls, those that could not "move on".
The man squinted his eyes, edging closer to him. "Hey... I recognize you."
Danny smiled hopefully.
"Inviso-Bill! That's who you are, right? WHAAA! HELP BLACK ROSE! THERE'S A MURDEROUS GHOST ON THE LOOSE AGAIN!" The man slammed his back onto the wall, clawing his hands into the coarse bricks and trembling violently.
Danny resisted the urge to face-palm himself.
So this is what he was now: a murderous ghost, who stalked unsuspecting citizens and literally risked his undead life to save them. How lovely.
Did everyone get stupider while I was away? He thought, annoyed. Because last time I checked, I was the town hero.
"My name isn't Inviso-Bill," he corrected, blandly. "It's Danny. Danny Phantom."
"D-Danny... Phantom?" he queried, eying Danny with skeptical eyes.
"Yeah, Danny Phantom. You know, that ghost that usually saved the town from evil ghosts bent on world domination some five years back? Yeah, him. I'm back." maybe for good this time, he added mentally.
"Wait," he said, shaking a finger at Danny. "You're that ghost that saved me from that genie!"
Danny tried to recall that particular memory but found himself unable too; he had saved too many people to really remember any of them. He felt somewhat guilty with this new piece of information – shouldn't he at least be able to recall something like this?
I guess not, Danny thought, downcast. Too much has happened over the years.. my memories just get overwrote with new ones over and over again. This new thought bothered him. His memories... slowly ceased to exist and were replaced with new ones.
If I never came back, he thought, honestly, feeling something unpleasant and cold throb in his chest. if I made an effort to forget... would that mean I would be able to forget Tucker? Valerie?... Sam?
His neck prickled suddenly.
Danny felt that unnerving familiar sensation riding up his back, clawing it's icy nails into his back. He dodged to the right, just barely avoiding a bright red blast of energy. He glared up to the perpetrator and intensified it when he saw who it was.
"So, you're the great Black Rose," he greeted nastily. "Here to exterminate me, too?"
The person only floated a few feet away from him, holding a rather familiar device in her hand...
His eyes narrowed at the label.
Fenton Works.
So she know's my family, he retreated a few more feet, cautious when she simply stood on her board and stared at him. Behind that sleek sheet of darkened glass, Sam Manson stood stupefied.
She felt bolted to the very board that usually helped her stay alive during her ghostly fights. She felt certain that if Vlad, Ember, Technus – any one of her enemies – sneaked up behind her, she would not be able to defend herself.
This startling vulnerability made a flare of indignation well inside her.
It only grew with intensity when she realized the person who did this to her – without even knowing it – had been gone for nearly five years. Had left them, her, for his own selfish reasons; had left her hanging on the line in the scorching hot sun.
Was she really that weak against him? To drop down all those walls she had carefully sculpted around the bounds of her heart without a seconds hesitation? To accept him back into her life, no strings attached, after what he did to her?
Stop it, she thought, shakily. Don't do this to yourself – he's not worth it. You're stronger than this- fight it. He doesn't deserve it. He'll only desert you in the end, Sam, he's beyond your reach now. Get over it, you wussy!
Right now, she had no time to focus on the jagged edges of her heart. Right now, she had to figure out why he did not register on her Ghost Sensor. Right now, she had to figure out what he was doing out here, at one am in the morning.
She didn't have time for this romance crap.
Sam had been patrolling the city later than she normally did – mostly because of the lack-of-sleep – when she had heard this man's panicked cries for help; her help in particular. She had checked and rechecked her Ghost Sensor but found not one sign of a ghost signature on it. She figured that the man had gotten a minor scare, considering he was walking around a rather lonesome area of Amity Park, and marked it off as a ghost attack.
It had happened many times before, these false alarms.
The Ghost Raids had left most of Amity Park rather skittish and paranoid.
But then she saw him.
He was floating in the air, arms crossed and standing as if he was on solid ground. He didn't move at all as he floated, not like he did when he was teenager. He was perfectly still and his stark white hair was longer than usual – it seemed tied into a small pony tail at the nape of his neck, strangely. The suit that before made him look slightly scrawny seem to barely conceal the chiseled body he now had. It seemed almost naughty how tight it was on him. He had really grown over the years, in more way than one.
She could clearly trace every muscle he moved, whether it be consciously or subconsciously, and she felt the stabs of longing pierce their way into her chest. She gripped the gun tightly and reprimanded herself for such unorthodox thoughts but even that didn't help the array of ideas that bounced around inside her head incessantly.
Danny's... Sam thought, almost dreamily. Danny's been... working out. She greedily took in his perfect posture, his perfect body. But this only seemed to hurt her more than relieve her. She averted her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions in place.
Sometime she wondered if she was one of those kinky goth chicks – the one's the digged those shackles and chains and cuffs. A masochistic goth, because of how she let herself be deluded by her dishonest thoughts.
It made a ripple of amusement shake through her. A ripple of twisted amusement.
Maybe she really was a masochistic goth...
"Step away from the civilian, ghost," Sam commanded, raising her weapon to eye level. Stupid thoughts... Danny made her think stupid, idiotic, asinine, thoughts. Unneeded thoughts.
He always burdened her, she really had to get over this stupid emotion she held for him; that torch she constantly kindled for him.
Danny was no different than the rest of the ghosts she had battled and exterminated.
He was technically half-dead. What's the difference if she took care of whatever life he had within him?
He was a ghost, just like the rest. He had an obsession, just like the rest. He had a mischievous streak, just like the rest. Because Sam very well knew that after the accident in the Fenton's Lab, where his DNA had been altered to fit with that of a ghosts, Danny had become slightly more... out-going.
He enjoyed trickery and pranks.
He liked scaring people.
He liked making them uncomfortable with his powers, with his strength, which he would do a lot when they were younger. He always said he was joking.
Sam had her doubts.
But her own callousness made her heart ache brutally: how could she think that? Kill whatever humanity Danny still held? Somehow the thought of Danny actually dying made her want to buckle her knee's and clutch her chest.
She felt her eyes sting at the thought, something that only made her wrath intensify.
She really was no different than how she was five years ago...
"Hello?" Danny said, tone slick with animosity. "Anyone in there? For a professional Ghost Hunter, you're not very good. I could take you out right now without even lifting a finger and you wouldn't even know it."
"Oh?" Sam said, forgetting her thoughts momentarily.
"I'm not bluffing," Danny said, turning to face her; a dark emotion swirling in his emerald eyes. "I really could."
"Right," she said flatly, holding out her gun. "I'm sure you can." I really am sure you can.
He smirked, darkly, something that didn't settle well with her. "Go ahead. Shoot me. I assure you the most I'd get is a good push – if not a shallow scratch. Most ghost hunting weapons don't work on me anymore," he eyed her helmet. "I bet I don't even register in your system."
"How would you know, ghost?" Sam continued, scowling. Well, Danny didn't change that much; he was still liked to flaunt his strength.
"Because many people have tried to capture me before," he grinned, amused by this. Sam felt something close to dread stitch inside the pit of her stomach. He had been hunted before? People had tried to... exterminate him before? "Loads of them fail – human weapons are almost laughable! They never work."
Human weapons? Sam felt panic rise, something uncommon for her. She hadn't felt this emotion in a long time, not since Valerie had very nearly broke her neck during one of their battles against Technus three years ago. Human. Why did he use this word? Danny, don't you know: you're human too! Why would you—?
"These weapons are slightly different than most. If I shot you, it would actually hurt. A lot." Sam clicked the safety off and slid her finger against the trigger. "Ask any ghost who's picked a fight with me, they'd tell you."
"Like I said before, I can take you out before you could blink."
"You don't know how overused that line is," she sneered, wishing she had the nerve to take off her helmet and scold him; watch the surprise wash over his features. Use that surprise to her advantage and yell everything she had wanted to tell him; every line she had rehearsed over and over again in her head."I've heard it so many times – sorry to say it's lost it's luster."
He smirked. "Well, this time it'll be for real, don't worry." He lifted his hand and it glowed an abnormal magenta. Sam felt her stomach ache with the multitude of emotions racing through her body. Why was his ecto-blast red? She could see stripes of black intermingle with the supernatural energy. "I promise," he said wickedly.
Why does this feel so wrong?
"Try me," she replied with a confidence she only wished she had. She shouldn't have said that, she knew. She shouldn't have egged him on. Danny seemed... dangerous now. Lethal, almost. Somehow, Sam knew that he really would hurt her if he felt threatened. And that thought frightened her the most because the Danny she knew wouldn't even think about hurting another person without a legit reason, and that didn't include some mindless prattle.
But here they were, ready to take one another out at a seconds notice.
"Scared yet?" he asked, eerily amused, clenching his fist, letting her see as it smoked before disappearing in a swirl of black.
"Not even close, ghost," she reloaded her gun for extra-measure, but felt the beginnings of true fright begin to leak into her system. She could feel that burst of adrenaline start to flood her veins and she could feel the blood pound through her temples as her breathing got heavier.
Fight-or-Flight?
Right then, she felt like ditching her own faithful weapon and hightailing right out of there.
So, flight it was...
Danny stared stonily at her before breaking it with a lopsided smile; completely shattering the intimidating, frightening charade he had kept going. "Wow, you really are tough. Most people usually run away by this time! Sweet, I knew there was a person out there who could hold out!" he commented airily, the undercurrent of stiffness in his voice not lost to Sam.
But that was all it took for the panic to melt into nothing but relief. This was the Danny she remembered. The carefree, adorable and compassionate boy from her childhood. The one that made her feel the butterflied in her stomach and made her blush with every fond smile. This was the boy she had fallen in love with.
But it only lasted a split second.
Next thing she knew, Danny was rocketing straight toward her, that same, horrifying, mold of red energy glowing menacingly in the palm of his white-gloved hand.
A/N: I am really sorry for this ubber late update. I actually have no actual excuse and I'll be brutally honest with you guys: I got some writers block and decided that the chapter I had prewritten wasn't going to fit with the plot I had in mind so I discarded and started over again. I ended up getting stumped half-way through. I mean, I can't very well stuff this chapter full of twists so I decided to mark this off as a filler of sorts.
Besides, I want Danny and Sam to have some sort of rivalry before Danny discovers her identity. I think it'd be fun to mess with him this way D
Please review! It'd enthuse me enough to post up the next chapter xD
Scarlett.