AN: Ahh! Chapter twelve. Can't say this is getting easier. It takes a while to write these chapters because in all honesty, I don't have a definite plan for the ending. If anyone has ideas, send me a review or message. I'd love to get everybody's opinion on this story.
Can I just take this time to recap on how crazy my life is? I'm born a freak that can see ghosts. I had a best friend who was dead. I convinced my parents to move towns. I occasionally work for The Atlantic Paranormal Society because I'm a Medium. I met this ghost on one of our trips. He was attacked and we got sent into the Ghost Zone. This psychopathic murderous ghost is now after both of us. We hacked his computer to figure out what his deal was and found out that my best friend from when I was little is the same ghost I'm with now. And we just found out that Vlad Masters or Plasmius or whatever the hell his name is is only half ghost and more powerful than anyone.
How, exactly, did I get into this mess? I hate my life.
Back to the present.
"I don't know how that's possible Sam," Danny countered softly. I wasn't really sure if he honestly thought it was impossible, or if he just didn't want to believe that it was. "Look at the facts. He was human when the energy affected him. I was a full ghost." I have to admit, he did have a valid point.
"I know, it doesn't make sense. But we have to remember that we're dealing with a psycho mad scientist figure. He developed a portal in the eighteen hundreds. He designed equipment to run tests on himself. We're dealing with a genius, even if he is crazy and out for blood." I could tell Danny was thinking about it, but still in denial. I think I wanted to be, if it wasn't for the fact that there was too much evidence that I was on the right track.
"Look at the facts. He said he engineered another like himself. If he isn't talking about hybridization, then what is he talking about?"
My question had the ghost stumped. There wasn't anything else we could determine from the other documents that would fit the statement. Still, the idea was so far-fetched, I wasn't sure it was even possible.
"I don't know how it's possible," I heard Danny repeat after a while of silence. Ok, I know this is like, major news, but does he really have to be all spacey?
"But I don't think he'd lie. Not Plasmius. He'd be happy that he found a loophole to immortality, as disturbing as it is. And he seems happy. Vengefully happy. But that still doesn't explain what he has done to me." He was talking kind of slowly, like he was thinking about every word.
"You've aged." Ok, I guess it kind of sounds dumb now that I think about what I said. "Thanks for the obvious," Danny snorted sarcastically, waiting to see if I was going to actually go anywhere with the statement.
I sent him a glare before continuing. "Ghosts don't age. Before Plasmius, you were stuck as a child. Now you're somewhere around my age. Whatever you are, whatever he did, you aren't a full ghost." It sounded so factual, I was kind of proud of myself. But I was right, and I knew it; from everything I had seen, everything he could do, he was most definitely not a normal ghost.
"So what, you're saying that maybe I am half-human? Maybe he genetically engineered a mutation that would give me a life back?" I could tell he was skeptical. Again, with the sarcasm. Oh, I wasn't going to let that one go.
"Are you trying to insult my intelligence or something?" Oh yeah. I was offended. I felt I had the right to be. He was giving me this attitude for my explanation, and it felt like he was scoffing at my ideas.
I guess he didn't realize he was hurting my feelings, because I could see his hardened face soften a little. "Sorry, Sam. This is just...a lot to take in. Think about how you'd feel if you were told you were created to be a super-weapon designed to take over the world."
I could kind of see his point. I wouldn't want to believe that I was created for destruction. So I would try to disprove whatever I was to come to any other conclusion. I sighed softly, thinking about how we could tie the loose ends of the mystery here.
"Look, I know it must be hard to accept that you were created for destruction. I have no idea what it feels like, but I know I'd be distraught if I was told I was supposed to kill people. But you're not evil. Plasmius even erased your memories to try and reset your brain, and you still refused to do his bidding. That's got to count for something."
I never really thought I was good at pep talks. No, I think it was just because I hated giving them. But I guess with Danny it was different. I actually felt bad for how distraught he was feeling. Pity, maybe. But not in the wrong way. Ugh, since when did I become a softie?
He gave a small shrug, still looking a bit defeated, and I sighed again. Damn ghosts and their depression.
"We have to figure out if you're half-human." There. I said it, plain and to the point. Sure, it was important, but for the past few minutes I had been wondering if it was possible that Danny was no longer fully dead. "If you are, Plasmius won't be able to track your ghost signature any more and that can buy us time."
"But how?" he quipped, a bit whiny. God, that was obnoxious. It was like he was a little kid again. But I guess since his brain did get reset, and he's a male, he's highly immature.
"What are you, five? I don't know, I figured since it's your body, or whatever, you'd be able to figure it out." I could hear him grunt in frustration at my response, but I didn't really care. Come on, I'm twenty one. He's got to be somewhere near that age, and I don't tolerate people who don't try to act their age.
He moved to sit on my bed then, before concentrating. I watched him, trying hard not to laugh at the fact that his face was rather priceless. Nothing happened. And nothing continued to happen for the next fifteen minutes or so. He finally sighed, slumping over. "It's no use. I have no idea how to even stimulate a human side, if I have one."
What were we supposed to do now? He had no idea how to even figure out if he was like Plasmius, let alone trigger the change. After a while of sitting there in defeat, I finally got something that seemed like an idea.
"What were you thinking of?" I asked, rather randomly. But hey, that's how I work. He gave me a weird look, before thinking back to his thoughts.
"What I looked like when I was alive," he finally returned, giving a small shrug.
"What if...what if it's deeper than that?" He gave me another weird look in response, not following. "What if you have to think about what it felt like to be human?"
"It's a good idea, but I wouldn't know where to start. It's been a century," he replied dryly. "What does it feel like?"
I had to stop and think for a minute. What did it feel like to be human? That was a rather tough question, seeing as I hadn't been anything else. "Warm," I began slowly, trying to think of good words to associate with humanity. "You're alive and warm. And you have emotions-well, I guess you do too, but it's different. It's not just about hate and anger and pain. There's happiness, too. I-don't know how else to explain it," I finished, watching him.
"Wow. That was rather sentimental for you," Danny mocked, smirking. I glared at him, folding my arms across my chest.
"Fine! I was just trying to help, but obviously you don't need it." Words of wisdom: never piss Samantha Manson off if you need anything.
He huffed in frustration, and I figure it was because he thought I couldn't take a joke. Which I can't, if it's an insult. "Not that what you said doesn't help, but I still don't know what to think about. I don't remember those feelings," he pointed out, obviously trying to divert my attention away from the previous mockery.
At first I completely tried to ignore him. Ok, so I can act like a five-year-old too. But after thinking about it, I figured that he wasn't going to get anywhere on his own, and I glanced back at him to see he was patiently waiting-no, almost pleading that I'd start talking to him because the suspense was eating him alive. I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to win this round, before moving to sit by him on my bed.
The cold was kind of weird, but I was starting to get used to it. It wasn't as bad as walking out in a snow storm in only your underwear, but it wasn't a nice summer day either. So how was I supposed to explain warmth?
Uh...yeah. So this is the part that I seriously question my judgment, or lack thereof.
He was watching me, wondering why I had even moved in the first place, so I needed to act fast before I looked stupid. Carefully I placed his hand between mine, meeting his eyes. "This is warmth," I stated. Yeah, it was pretty dumb. But I didn't really know what else to say. "Can you feel the difference?"
He took a while to respond. His eyes closed, like he was concentrating on trying to separate the dramatic difference in temperature from the actual feeling it provided. I continued to study his face as his other hand rested on mine. That didn't really last for long though.
Maybe I wasn't paying attention. I guess I wasn't, because all of the sudden there was something cold on my cheek. I stopped moving, just staring at him. His eyes slowly opened, and when he realized what he had been doing, he gave a sheepish smile and blushed. Wait-do ghosts even blush? I didn't think it was possible. Then again, he's a freak of nature.
His hand fell back to his lap as he withdrew the other I still held, before speaking again. "So how do I know what happiness feels like?" Yeah, he avoided saying anything about what just happened. Figures.
"Well...you cared for Timmy, right?" I began, remembering the child ghost that he had been watching over. He gave a nod in response. "Think about him maybe? Find a memory of him that makes you smile when you think about it. Something that replaces all the negative thoughts."
I felt like Remus Lupin talking about the patronus charm. Haven't read Harry Potter? You suck. Go read that instead. Wait, no, not really. Seriously though, I had to fight back a laugh at the weird irony.
He was concentrating again, and I studied his face once more seeing as his eyes were closed. And in rereading that, I realize how much of a creep I must sound like.
Finally I saw a trace of a smile. But it wasn't a half-smile, or a smirk, or a nervous grin. It was a genuine smile that was being powered by positive emotions. And the next part is where things got really weird.
There was this bright light in my room. But it wasn't from outside or a lamp or something. It came from Danny. I could see the faint lines of a ring of light around his waist before I had to look away because it was too bright for my eyes. When the light died down, I glanced back at his figure and couldn't believe what I saw. There sat a black-haired, blue-eyed young adult looking at me.
I'm guessing he could read the shock on my face, because he glanced down, studying his hands and exposed skin. "Did-did it work?" he asked quietly with wonder. Icy blue eyes met my amethyst ones as I nodded slowly, still staring. He immediately jumped up, moving swiftly to the full-length mirror hanging on the door of my closet.
I know he would argue, but I'm positive that he nearly passed out right then and there. He began hyperventilating, which could have been from the shock but also from the fact that he hadn't had to breathe in a century or so. He began touching his hair, before looking closely at his eyes. He put his hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat, and smiled.
"I'm alive."