The I-am-crap-and-can't-write depression and the I-am-so-busy-that-I-don't-have-time-to-sleep-much-less-write has lifted (slightly) so the how-long-has-this-been-sitting-on-my-computer? chapter of this can be posted.

Enjoy.

Plunge
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

-5:29pm

The stinging sensation of the rings changing his cells from human to ghost was something completely indescribable. He'd tried – and failed – to explain it to Sam and Tucker a dozen times. The terrifying thrill, the painful wonder, the momentary sensation of being something else…

It left no doubt in his mind what he'd just done. There was no mistaking the sensation, no uncertainty as to which form he was in, and absolutely no denying the fact that his parents were only a few feet away. Watching. Waiting.

The ghost in Danny's mind stretched out its fingers and curled them around his emotions, blocking them and dulling them. He felt his shoulders relax slightly, the intense nausea in his stomach dying away to a dim roar. Into the silence, Danny took a deep, rasping breath.

He'd done it.

His human emotions battered at the chilly invincibility of his ghost side, demanding attention. Air shakily rushed out his lungs and his eyes flickered open. He was expecting to see the stunned faces of his parents, but instead he was met with a pair of blue eyes barely three inches from his. He gasped, flinching backwards.

"Amazing," came the soft whisper of his father.

Danny blinked a few times, letting air leek slowly and unsteadily out of his lungs. He couldn't tear his eyes off his dad's intense gaze, feeling his shoulders start to creep up towards his ears and his mind unconsciously starting to plan an escape route.

"Danny?" his mom asked, her voice quiet and trembling.

He licked his dry lips and looked away from his father, swallowing heavily and trying for a weak smile when met his mother's gaze. A wave of nausea passed through him at the pale look on her face and he turned his eyes towards at the ground.

Before Danny was ready, his mom was on her feet, reaching out a hand as she moved slowly towards him. When her fingers were inches from his shoulder, Danny shuffled backwards a half-step, his breath catching in his throat. She froze for a long beat, her eyes uncertain, then moved forwards and set her hand on his shoulder.

The silence was nearly unbearable. The slight weight of his mother's hand felt like a ton of bricks pressing down on his shoulder and Danny felt his body attempt to shift away from her. Her other hand came up to perch on his other shoulder, turning him fully to face her.

"Danny?" she breathed again, her eyes wide and her face pale. Her fingers, trembling and hesitant, trailed up his neck, through his white hair, then traced over his face. "Oh my God…"

"I'm Phantom," Danny whispered, his voice barely audible.

Her hands fell away and she took a small step backwards. "Oh, Danny…"

Rubbing his palm against his leg, Danny glanced back towards his father. The large man was staring in Danny's direction, his eyes distant. "Dad?"

"I never thought…" his dad trailed off, then blinked and focused on Danny. "So that's why you…" He tipped his head slightly to the side, his eyes narrowed and thinking, silent.

"You said you weren't dead," his mother whispered into the silence.

Danny flinched and twisted around, gazing at her with wide eyes. "I'm not!" he insisted. "I… I'm not. I'm not a ghost. I'm not dead."

Her eyes flickered over him, roving from head to toe, slowly shaking her head and taking a step away from him. "Danny…"

"I'm not… Mom…" he pleaded, feeling a swell of dread in his chest when she continued to shake her head and back away from him. His fingers clenched into fists and he felt his jaw tighten. "I'm not a ghost. I can look like a ghost, but I'm not a ghost. I'm… I'm like half-a-ghost."

"That's not possible," she said softly. Tears were glittering in her eyes as she took another step backwards. "It's not possible."

"It's is," Danny said firmly, his heart starting to pound in his throat. "Dad? You believe me, right?" He turned to his father, eyes wide and pleading, shooting glances towards his mother to make sure she hadn't bolted from the room.

The large man blinked his eyes and shook his head before his eyes focused on Danny. "I… Danny… don't…" he stumbled.

"I know," his mom cut in. "Nobody could have survived that accident, Danny." She looked down at her feet for a second, closing her eyes. When she looked up, her cheeks were wet with tears. "Nobody."

"But-" Danny raised a hand towards her, his mouthing open in as he desperately tried to figure out what to say. None of this was going to plan. They were supposed to believe him, pull him into a hug and tell him it was going to be okay, love him and respect him and not believe that he was the dead ghost of their son.

More tears trickled loose from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "Stop," she whispered.

"Mom!"

"Stop, Danny," she said sharply. Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest and she turned away. "Please."

"Mrs. Fenton," Mr. Lancer said, speaking up for the first time. He pushed himself out of his chair and took a few steps towards Danny's mother. Danny, having forgotten the teacher was there, flinched. "I've listened to Danny's explanation and I-"

"Are you an expert on ghosts?" she interrupted quietly.

Mr. Lancer hesitated, then shook his head. "No."

She nodded and took a shuddering breath, not turning around to face them. Her head tipped back slightly, almost like she was staring at the ceiling. "Well, I am. I know the facts, Mr. Lancer, and I know the science. It's not possible." Something like a sob slipped from her, her shoulders hitching. "My son is…" She trailed off, hurrying from the room.

"Mom?" Danny stood still, stunned by the sudden absence of his mother. His hands fell to his side, limp and tingling. Horror and terror tangled in his chest. "But…"

In all the other futures, all the other realities, she'd accepted this. She'd believed him. She'd…

"I'll go talk to her," Mr. Lancer said softly. He walked towards the kitchen door she'd just vanished through, stopping just long enough to squeeze Danny's shoulder once. "Give her a few minutes to think it through. She'll come around."

"Okay," Danny managed to whisper, swaying a bit on his feet. "I… I… I guess."

The teacher walked through the door, shutting it softly behind him. Danny stared blankly at it for a long moment, his stomach churning painfully and his heart beating loudly in his ears, before turning back with every intention to slump on the couch and try to pretend the last fifteen minutes hadn't occurred.

He didn't quite make it to the couch.

His father was still standing there, gazing at him, and Danny had completely forgotten he was in the room.

-5:36pm

"I believe you."

Danny blinked in surprise, taking a small step backwards, his eyes widening in surprise. "You do?" he said softly, a tentative smile creeping unconsciously onto his face.

His father nodded.

"Why?" Danny bit off the word almost before it'd made it out of his mouth, mentally attempting to kick himself for asking a question like that.

"You're my son. You're a Fenton." The large man said the words slowly but firmly, the slight frown on his face melting into a smile. He took an unexpected step forwards and pulled Danny into a bone-crushing hug. Danny froze, his body tensing at the sudden contact. "I trust you," the man said, his chest rumbling with the words. "And it kind of makes sense."

Danny relaxed at those words, clenching his fingers tightly in his dad's jumpsuit. "Thanks," he whispered before extracting himself from his father's grip. A wet sensation on his cheeks brought a hand up to brush at tears, his heartbeat slowly settling back to normal.

The chair protested loudly as his father dropped into it. He leaned forwards, setting his arms on his knees, and studied Danny for another long second. Danny swallowed a leftover lump in his throat and ran a hand through his hair, looking out the window. Outside, the sun was shining on a beautiful late afternoon day.

"That's why you've been skipping school and missing curfew and shirking from your chores, huh? You've been ghost hunting?"

Danny nodded, shifting his weight from foot to foot, studying a bird that was fluttering in a tree. "Yeah."

"And the bruises and cuts and things?"

"Most of them." He risked a glance towards his father. The man was still sitting in the chair, apparently listening and accepting what was being said.

"Most of them?" the man repeated. "What are the rest from?"

Danny shrugged, shifting his gaze from the window to the blank TV set. "Guys at school."

"You're still getting pushed around at school?" his father said, startled. "And you're getting hurt? Why didn't you tell us?"

Brilliant green eyes flickered over to glare at his father, a vague scowl on his face. "I can take care of myself."

"Nobody bullies a Fenton," Jack said stubbornly, his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing. Danny tensed slightly, ready to defend his actions, but his father sank back into his chair and shook his head. "We can talk about it later, I guess."

Silence. Somewhere in the kitchen, a drawer banged shut and there was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

"Danny… Phantom," Jack said softly.

Danny smiled vaguely and shrugged, stuffing his clammy hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit. "Not my idea," he said as he rocked back on his heels.

"I captured you once. Almost got a reward for it too."

"Mom caught me," Danny shot back, doing his best to keep his voice light and teasing. "And only because I let her."

His father arched an eyebrow. "I believe you said you'd heard of me and were turning yourself in."

A snort worked its way out of Danny's nose. "Well, I had heard of you. I ate breakfast with you"

"Did I hurt you?"

Danny froze at the pain in his father's voice. His stomach felt like it was dropping towards his toes. For a second there, everything had almost seemed normal again. But it wasn't, not really. Reality had to come crashing back down.

"Danny?"

"No," Danny said sharply, firmly. He cut his hands through the air. "You've never hurt me. I wouldn't have let you."

Jack's blue eyes were uncertain. He looked away, gazing at the kitchen door Maddie had vanished through.

"Actually, you saved me, remember?" Danny continued, putting a smile on his face and taking a stop forwards. "You stepped in front of that hacky-sack and got covered in goo?" He reached out and touched his father's hand. "And you let me go, remember? And you stopped the portal from exploding… that was nice."

"I shrank you."

Danny looked up at the ceiling for a second. "That I didn't appreciate," he said ruefully. "It'd be nice if you didn't do that again."

There were a few beats of silence as Jack stuck out his lower jack and nodded a few times, his eyes focusing on Danny's. "I don't…" he stopped, then shook his head firmly. "I don't like that you kept this a secret. Your mother and I could have really hurt you."

"I…" Danny trailed off, biting his lip, but he forced himself to restart. He'd been over this time after time with Lancer – he could spit it out one more time. "At first, I was scared of what you'd say. I didn't think you'd believe me. That you'd think I was a ghost playing a trick or something."

Danny's gaze locked on his feet, watching one of his boots dig into the carpet. "And you kept taking about tearing me apart molecule by molecule." A trace of sarcasm entered his voice as he said that, an odd little smile appearing on his face. "I didn't want to tell you. At first I thought… I thought it'd be better if you didn't know."

"Dann-o," his father sighed.

The smile on Danny's face flickered bigger at the nickname, some of the knots in his stomach untying themselves. "I started to get control of it. And I got good at it, Dad. I'm a really good ghost hunter." Danny hesitated, bringing his eyes up to stare into his father's. "And then… and then it didn't seem like I had to. That it'd be easier, after all the lies I'd already told you and all the time you'd been hunting me, just for you never to know."

The man nodded slowly.

A cold hand suddenly reached down into Danny's chest and squeezed at his heart, causing his body to convulsively shiver. Danny shook his head and ignored the sensation – now was not the time to be hunting down a ghost. "I wanted to tell you." His father's face was getting blurry from the tears piling up in his eyes. "I always… I really… I just…"

A warm hand touched his chin, then moved to his shoulder to pull Danny into another rough hug. Jack's arms held Danny tight for a long minute.

"I'm sorry," Danny said into his father's shoulder, his entire being behind those two words.

Jack took a breath to answer just as another shiver raced up Danny's spine. "What's-" Jack started to say.

"Isn't this nice…" a haunting voice interrupted, filling the room with its echoing chill.

-5:47pm

The voice was almost tangible. Danny jerked out of his father's grasp, swiping at the burning sensation of cobwebs rapidly tangling around his arms. Pain flared wherever the strands touched, the cut on his arm from the previous night suddenly screaming in agony. He'd never felt anything like it before. "Ghost," he gasped.

"I found you," the voice hissed. "You can't hide from me."

The wispy fibers of noise wrapped around his head and Danny curled up in a ball, brushing futilely at the agonizing strands, noting with a flash of fear that his body was responding more and more slowly to his commands.

"Ghost!" came a shout. The word seemed distant and blurry. Then there was the faint sound of his father demanding, "Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter." A small ghost shimmered into existence, its body standing over Danny. With every word it spoke, long damp strands of its hair tangled around Danny's body and wrapped his brain in a layer of fuzz. "I'm not here for you."

"No," Danny muttered, his mouth barely moving, still struggling to get out of the strange hairs. He recognized the ghost – it was the one from the school last night. But the ghost hadn't done the hair thing before. "I shoulda caught you when I had the chance," he tried to snarl, but the words came out garbled and unintelligible.

Danny blinked painfully and watched his father edge towards the TV, the world starting to swirl and spin. For a moment, he stopped fighting the ghost and let his mind wonder what was on TV to watch tonight. "Who are you here for?" Jack asked, prodding Danny back into movement.

"The half-breed, idiot," the ghost snarled. "He's coming with me."

"He's not going anywhere. Danny? Danny!"

Danny contemplated answering, but his body seemed to suddenly be made of bricks and lead. He sank to the ground, struggling simply to get air in and out of his lungs, fighting off the pain that was still racing through his mind. His chest started to burn, his body shutting down and his mind giving up the fight.

"MADS!" his father shouted.

"Come, half-breed," the ghost of the girl whispered. The cobweb-like hairs tugged on his arms and Danny found himself standing up and moving, confused as to what was going on. "Follow me."

Danny turned his head slightly to gaze at his father, even as his body took a few steps towards the ghost.

"NO!" The man wrenched open a drawer and pulled out an ectoweapon. It whined painfully as it charged up a shot. "That's my son, you dirty ball of goo!"

"Half-breed," the ghost crooned, reaching out one of its child-like hands and wrapping it around Danny's fingers. An intense flare of pain shot up his arm from the cut he'd gotten.

He turned his head to stare blankly at the sting in his arm. The hairs from the ghost's head were curled around his body and seemed to be digging into the cut, finding a way inside of him.

His neck moved without his permission, turning him to face his father. The orange suit was blurry and unfocused, his father's face swimming in his dazed vision. "He'll do anything I say," the ghost chuckled. "Won't you, half-breed?"

"Danny?" The voice was incredibly far away.

Something squirmed in his neck and Danny's eyes flinched closed. His breath caught in his throat as the impossible feeling of needles started to worm their way into his brain.

"See the human, half-breed?"

The pain was so great he didn't really hear the ghost, but he felt his head nod anyways, the things in his head moving and finding their way deeper.

He tried to scream, but the world went dark, the ghost's last two words echoing around in his pain-filled mind.

"Kill it."

To be continued...