Love of Humanity
A collection of one-shots based on arbitrary inspirations. #5 - Love of Humanity: A conversation with a stranger helps Danny with his view on his government predicament.
"Wherever the art of Medicine is loved, there is also a love of Humanity." – Hippocrates
"Love is the best medicine."
Danny breathed in the smell of fresh air, the unfiltered breeze that somehow made the air in buildings seem stifling and fake. It was tinted green, the aromas of the surrounding trees and flowers dispersing within it. The sun felt nice on his face.
If he ignored his "escort" behind the tree and disregarded how close this garden was to the research facility, he could almost pretend he was free.
He sighed, leaning his head backwards and slumping down as he let the bench fully support his posture. Earlier, he had practically begged the director to let him venture outside today, to let him have some semblance of independence on the grounds of his need to keep himself sane. But now that the director had allowed him to risk leaving the "safety" of the facility, Danny didn't know what to do.
He didn't know how long he sat there, thoughts of lost opportunities and the feeling of pointlessness drifting through his brain.
"Can I sit here?"
The voice broke the monotony – which was probably getting too familiar to be healthy – in his head and Danny looked up sharply. A girl stood in front of him. Her hands clutched her purse like a lifeline.
Danny glanced at the empty bench across the garden, about to deny her. That felt impolite, however. There was clearly space on his bench. Anyways, he didn't really care.
"Go ahead," Danny muttered. He straightened up and shifted himself further away from the middle of the bench.
"Thanks." The girl sat herself down at the opposite end. Her purse went into her lap, her hands still clenching the handle tightly.
Danny glanced around, noticing that his "escort" had moved to a tree slightly closer to him. He rolled his eyes; he'd handled ghosts that could dish out harm a hundred times more effectively than some random girl.
Not that his skill would matter to them. He was simply "too valuable" of a specimen that any amount of danger was risky.
Silenced reigned, the beauty of the garden seemingly acting as a substitute for what seemed like hours. It was funny how time seemed to trickle when goals and a purpose seemed nonexistent. Not really.
Absentmindedly, he noticed a patch of lichen on a tree. Mutualism. He wished it was as simple with humans as it was with nature.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
The girl was looking at him, but she shook her head and quickly gazed at her purse after disrupting the quiet. "I mean, people always say that talking about feelings helps you feel better. But I totally understand if you don't want to talk to a stranger. Or talk at all."
Danny raised his eyebrows as he glanced back at her. She seemed to be a college-aged girl, maybe the same age as him. Her entire form was tense, her face set in a grim expression.
Danny shrugged. "What if I said I wanted to hear yours instead?"
There was nothing else to do, anyways. And he felt like trying to do something for someone, with how un-heroic his recent thoughts had been.
The girl glanced up, looking surprised. "Really? You do?"
She then glanced away, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "Only if you want to. You probably don't want a girl dumping all of her problems onto your mind."
"I don't have much else to do," Danny replied.
The girl narrowed her eyes slightly, taking in his cap and sunglasses and seemingly reconsidering her decision to talk to a random stranger. But she glanced behind her, turning towards the direction of the hospital located right next to the research facility, and her expression collapsed. Tears started to run down her cheeks.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to-," she sniffed, "to start crying like this. It's just your average sob story."
Danny tried to smile at her reassuringly. "I'd like to help be your soundboard."
She raised her hand apologetically. "Give me . . . a second. Sorry."
Although inwardly panicking, Danny tried to keep his expression friendly and nodded. He didn't know how to help someone crying – as awkward as he was, he never was good at social interaction, and he hadn't had much of a chance for it lately.
The girl closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. She opened her eyes. Her voice shook. "My little sister was diagnosed with brain cancer a few years ago but she got better and was doing well. And then I got in a fight with my parents and didn't really come visit in college. But then she relapsed and now she's . . . in a coma . . . dying . . . really already dead."
Danny felt his heart sink with guilt with his earlier thoughts of running away.
The girl wiped the tears from her eyes. "We've always been really close. But I just kept myself away. If only I hadn't held that stupid grudge. Maybe I could've helped her get better. At least I could have been with her more. And now I . . . don't have a chance . . .
"Sorry, I just . . . I had to get . . . away . . . from it all." The girl covered her mouth with her hand and turned away, sobbing quietly.
Danny opened his mouth, feeling the need to try to help but at a loss of what he could say. Did she need comforting optimism, a forgiveness of her mistake and a promise things would be alright? A sense of direction? He could never be sure when talking to someone, especially with girls.
And asking him for help when he himself might need it felt wrong.
He closed his mouth. He slipped off his sunglasses and shifted towards the girl's end of the bench. Physical contact helped, right? He stared toward his "escort," daring him to stop his next movements, and then scooted so that he was almost right next to the girl.
Before he could decide whether or not he should initiate contact and how, the girl turned and grabbed one of his wrists with one of her hands.
"Thank you . . . for listening," she whispered. Her grip tightened.
Danny shook his head. "Sorry for, ah, not having anything to say to help. I'm sorry for your loss."
The girl responded with her own shake of her head. "I just needed to . . . say it."
She then released her hand and turned away as another sob shook her shoulders.
Before he could stop himself – before he lost any of his courage – Danny started to speak. "I-
"I don't think I can understand how you're feeling, so don't take what I say too seriously. I think that since you can't change what happened in the past but do control what you do in the future, maybe . . . maybe in honor of your sister's memory, try to reconcile yourself with your parents," Danny's voice was quiet. Inwardly, he berated himself for saying something. He wasn't the psychologist of his family; he didn't know if what he said could help her.
The girl took a halting breath but nodded. She closed her eyes.
Subdued sniffles were the only sounds that accompanied the faint rustle of leaves for some time.
Danny just waited, unsure.
"That's . . . something I can focus on. Thank you." The girl opened her eyes to look into Danny's.
Her breathing eventually calmed, but she started to seem flustered for a different reason.
"Thank you. My parents were in the room, and I've already bothered my friends too much about my parents. I just had to . . . let it go." The girl started to fidget with the handles of her purse. "I think it's your turn."
Danny looked at her confusedly.
"To share your feelings," she continued.
Danny gave her a concerned look and then stared at the ground. "You should go back and see your sister. What if these are her last moments?"
The girl's hands twisted faster. "She won't wake up . . . anyways. I think I should repay you first."
"You sure?" Danny asked. He looked into her gaze and tried to determine if she was just being polite or if she really wanted to stay. He couldn't tell.
She nodded and a stubborn tone slid into her voice. "Yes. I will stay until you finish. If you speak faster, then maybe I can get back faster."
She wouldn't budge. Danny knew from experience with that tone.
"Okay." Danny glanced back towards the facility. "This might not make sense, but five years ago I got caught in a position that really restricts my freedom."
After the Disasteroid incident, the government was insistent that there had to be some scientific record and analysis of his unique, half-ghost body. Danny had complied, if only because he knew that he was an unknown, and people feared the unknown.
"It wasn't really my fault, and I hadn't wanted to be involved."
They'd found out about his blood, and how his ectoplasm didn't have any negative impact on his cells but caused the cells themselves to behave like ectoplasm, receiving power from and reacting to his ghostly aura. And since he could control his ghostly aura, he could theoretically control cells. It was why his body had been unconsciously healing himself faster – his cells were receiving power from his ghost side. Theoretically, it was possible for him to make his cells perform specific tasks in his body.
"But it turned out to be a position where I could help a lot of people. Maybe change the world, or at least change medicine."
The medical world was enraptured by that idea. If they could "program" cells to do specific tasks, curing so many diseases seemed possible. They could maybe cure cancer.
"So I stayed with the position. I'm in it now. But my supervisors feel that I am too valuable and are very restrictive in what I can and cannot do."
It was a dicey agreement with the government. He'd let them take his blood and put restrictions on him to "improve" the quality of the blood, and he'd be able to reject some tests to some extent and have a "comfortable" living. But there wasn't much holding the agreement together:
"I know they need me. And I can tolerate them somewhat."
They needed the constant supply of his blood – the ectoplasm faded after a time away from his aura. They needed him to manipulate that aura – their research in how to create an artificial ghost aura to command the ectoplasm themselves was still in progress. They knew he was the only creature in existence with stable ectoplasm and cells like this, and the origin of his condition was unrepeatable. However, he knew that they could turn to much darker measures "for the sake of medicine and humanity" if he didn't comply, and they had the power to do so. There wasn't any way to stop them if they suddenly decided they needed more or disagreed with their currently humane policies; they only cared he was alive and his body was healthy.
"And I know I should help the world with my position. But, with the restrictions, my past dreams and goals for life are unreachable. I don't feel like I'm doing anything."
Even if he disregarded the threat, he wasn't living a comfortable – fulfilling – life. Wanting to be an astronaut in the dangers of space wasn't something he could even consider. Or any other job. He couldn't have a lot of contact with people, since they were afraid he could receive some sort of illness. His own fear of blackmail had made him push his friends and family away. No contact, no family. No direction.
Why couldn't they just both work together smoothly? If they sacrificed some of their security by giving him more freedom, maybe being funded less because he was more of a liability, it would work out. He would still be sacrificing some of his independence. Equal sacrifice, equal gain. But, no, they had less sacrifice, more gain. Maybe it was because they had more power.
"So, I want to escape. At the same time, I hate myself for thinking this, since I know that escaping means that I can't help people in the way that my position allows me to. I don't know what to do."
Danny stopped his recollection and looked at the girl, taking in not only her red nose and eyes from her previous upset but also her focused eyes and crease in her brows. "Actually, some of that should have been in past tense. I didn't know what to do. After hearing your story, you've given me motivation to stay in my position."
The girl looked surprised. "Oh, really? Even though I don't understand some of what you're telling me or how my story helped, I don't want to make you feel like you have to stick with something you can't stand."
Danny shook his head. "No, I think this is right anyways."
"Is there any way I can help?" The girl genuinely looked concerned.
It strengthened his resolve, and Danny smiled. "I'm fine."
The girl reached her hand over to his wrist again and gave a reassuring squeeze before quickly retracting it. A breeze carried a helicopter maple seed up into the air. In a few seconds, it had left his field of sight.
There were a few audible steps as someone approached them and cleared his throat. It was Danny's "escort."
"It's time to return. Your appointment is in a fifteen minutes." The "escort" was all business as he waited.
"Well, as much as I want to stay, the director's so needy that he can't go a day without sucking some of my blood," Danny quipped without thinking, used to attempting to liven up some the seriousness at the research facility. He then glanced at the girl and felt red go up into his face. "That sounded kind of wrong and isn't what I meant."
The girl raised her eyebrows but just held out her hand. "I'm not going to ask, but my name is Madison. Madison Wells."
Danny stood up and extended his own hand. "Danny Fenton."
As they shook hands, Madison's eyebrows shot up even higher. "Wait, Danny Fenton as in Danny Phantom, the hero of the world? I thought you looked a little familiar. Wow, I talked to someone famous."
Embarrassed, Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Yes?"
Madison released his other hand and furrowed her brows. "So, what you were talking about, it's the research that I was hearing about when I was looking up cancer for my . . . my sister. The possible cure from ghosts."
Danny nodded, glancing nervously at his "escort," who was looking increasingly impatient.
A fuzzy bee buzzed by, landing in a pastel pink flower.
"So, oh, that-, wow, I never considered that you'd be so restricted for something like this. That's why you haven't been in the news since then. Hmm." Madison looked worried for him. Her hands twisted on the handles of her purse once more.
She continued, her gaze intent as if she wanted them to propel her gratitude towards him, "I'm glad I met you and talked. I think you gave good advice, and you really helped."
Her eyes then shifted and she seemed to notice Danny's "escort." She fiddled with her purse before hooking it on her arm and standing up. "And since I don't really know how to help you, I'll just say that I know you're strong and that you'll be alright. Maybe I'll try to raise an internet protest, or something."
She smiled at him.
Danny smiled back. "Don't worry about me. I'm sorry about your sister, and it was nice talking to you, too."
"I'll . . . just be checking on my . . . family, then." Madison stepped back and gave a wave. "I really hope you'll work things out with the researchers."
Danny waved back.
The bee moved on to another flower. It might've been a peony.
There was a firmness in Danny's step as he headed back towards the research facility.
A/N: I've never known someone who has approached a stranger like this (and something like this probably wouldn't happen in real life) and wouldn't necessarily recommend it because of safety, but how small deeds such as reaching out and talking to someone or even just smiling and greeting someone you only kind-of know can really improve that person's day fascinates me. It's not an equivalent exchange – some little effort when you're in a good mood can make a big difference to someone who isn't in a good mood and help both of you, and so it makes the most sense to me that everyone should try to help others in this way for the benefit of everyone. I'm one of the quiet ones, so I know it's hard for some. And I know this is just a personal, maybe naively optimistic opinion. But, still, I like this concept. (This story kind of strays from this concept, however.)
Moral lecture over, I haven't had much experience with most of the concepts (social and scientific) in the story, so I apologize if I am incorrect, or have offended or hurt anyone.
I apologize if Danny seems OOC (I made him more logical – he seems shy, so I would think he would think through what he says unless he is used to someone, but it's been a while since I've seen the show) or if things don't really fit.
Also, since attending college, I've become even more of a loner, so I apologize for awkward/late replies or anything of that sort if anyone does review. But, I will respond.
It's also been such a long time since I've dropped in on this phandom. I was upset about the (poor) quality of my writing (and my lack of social skills), but I've come to the realization that fanfiction is for fun and may be posting more in the future (or trying to get more involved . . . possibly . . . I have a lot of catching up to do).