Chapter 2: Break The Spell

"Freakshow," Sam repeated. She couldn't wrap her head around what Danny was saying.

She knew it couldn't be a plausible plan. She knew Danny had been feeling terrible after losing his powers. She knew the Fentons were running out of options to help him. She knew all of that. And no matter how desperate Danny felt, it didn't make any sense to even consider a twisted criminal like Freakshow. An asshole who had tried to kill her, who exploited ghosts for his own benefit, and who wished to rule over all of reality, no matter how many innocent people got hurt in the process.

How had they let Danny spiral so far and so fast that he could even consider looking for that jerk's help?

"Danny…" she began to say in the most patient tone she could muster.

"I know it sounds like a bad idea," he quickly interjected. His face turned serious, determined, an expression she had seen countless times back when he was Phantom. "But trust me. I've had a long time to think about this."

Sam got up from her spot next to him and ran her hands through her hair. "It is a bad idea!" She whisper-yelled as she turned to face him. The last thing they needed was for his parents to interrupt their conversation. "It's the worst idea you've ever had, and that's even taking into account the time you went on a prank war against Vlad!"

Danny huffed in exasperation but didn't hesitate or look any closer to changing his mind. "Sam, I know it's risky, but I have no other choice." He furrowed his brow and exhaled softly. "If I can't get into the Ghost Zone and I can't use anything in our basement, I need to look for other options. And Freakshow definitely knows what's up."

There was an air of certainty about him. Did he know something she didn't? Sure, there were so many books she had found written by the Showenhower family, and they had so much experience with occult themes that it was a real shame Freakshow had decided to use all that knowledge and power to control ghosts.

But Danny never participated in the research portion of their work as a team, that's why Sam and occasionally Tucker were the ones doing the "heavy reading". Did he begin to take an interest now? Or was it because he now had the time to do it?

Sam paced in front of the window. "Okay, let me try to unpack everything that's wrong with this," she said as she tried to regain her composure. She could do this. She could make Danny see some sense and refrain from doing whatever this half-baked plan was. "Freakshow's a known criminal. And he's locked up. With the GIW, no less."

Danny shook his head. "No. He was released before I was."

That took her by surprise. "How do you even know that?"

Didn't The Ward claim he was isolated from other prisoners during his stay? That was part of the demands she and the Fentons had raised during their protests: to stop Danny from being considered a criminal since he didn't intend to have ecto-contaminated blood. How would he even know if Freakshow was there or not? What excuse would he have even given them to ask about the former ringmaster?

Danny scooted on his bed until he was closer to his nightstand. He opened the fake bottom layer and revealed some papers and folders the GIW hadn't found during their raid weeks ago. There was a rolled piece of paper she hadn't seen back then, a new addition to his secret collection, she presumed.

He bit his lower lip and turned to face her. "While I was in my… room?" He shook his head and gave a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, right. As if I hadn't been stuck in what was totally a cell in disguise… Anyway, I found this," he said while holding the paper up to her.

She picked the small roll from his hands and immediately opened it, revealing a small hand-written text covering the whole paper from both sides. "What's this?" she asked as her eyes tried to skim over the words under the dim light, but nothing stood out right away.

"That's supposed to be a threat. Or a promise of some kind," he said darkly. "But now that I think about it, maybe it's the only thing that has given me hope after all this time."

That made no sense whatsoever, but then her eyes landed on words like "revenge" and "Phantom" to make the alarms in her head blare loudly. "How would it be hope? Who wrote this?"

Danny pointed to a part written at the bottom. "Showenhower. Freakshow. He had been in that same room before I was taken by the GIW. And yeah, he promised to destroy Phantom. Guess he didn't get that wrong, huh?"

Sam scanned the paper more carefully. "Danny, is this a plan to get Phantom's powers?"

Danny shrugged. "To be honest? I have no clue if that's what this really is. He mentions a blood ritual and something about getting everything back to its rightful time and place."

That was dangerously vague. Knowing the occultist clown, it could mean anything, even going back in time to fix his mistakes when he came to Amity Park. Clockwork wouldn't allow something like that to happen, right? How would Danny even go looking for help from the Master of Time?

No, she wouldn't give him additional bad ideas.

She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, choosing instead to keep asking questions until Danny found himself stuck in a dead-end in this discussion. "What do you think it means?"

Danny shrugged. "I don't know. Something that could potentially put my powers back in their rightful place? It could be anything! Imagine all the possible good things that could come out of a ritual like that. But I know it can backfire. I know it could be dangerous. So you see why I can't do this alone?"

Violet eyes stared heavily at her friend. "You think you'd be back to being Phantom." Danny nodded. "But you can'ttrust Freakshow of all people to help you with that. No matter how much you think about tricking him while trying to steal his ritual. It's too risky."

"Sam, I don't have to ask him to get my powers back for us. What I need is to learn the ritual he would use to do that." He huffed and stared at his hands, almost trying to will the ghostly abilities back out of sheer concentration.

Her eyes shifted away from him, staring at the paper, trying to find words that would reveal Freakshow's endgame and failing terribly in the process. "I don't know about this…" she whispered.

Danny stood up in front of her and held her shoulders. "Please. Can we at least try? The worst that could happen is we end up back to square one."

She couldn't help but scoff. "Are you sure that would be the outcome? Just 'oops, wrong ritual'?" She held the piece of paper in front of his face for emphasis. "What this is talking about is very, very, very ancient magic, Danny. Magic that's forbidden in some circles, even."

Hopefully that would convince him. Hopefully he would see some reason.

But all she got in response was a knowing smile.

"See why I need your help?" he whispered back as he squeezed her shoulders softly.

She wasn't ready for this kind of conversation or for the alternative he proposed. Her heart was broken in thousands of pieces, none of which could even hope to contain a fragment of her pain at the mention of that sick clown.

She didn't want to argue, though. She didn't want Danny to shut himself down again, if he was hiding this from Jazz or Tucker. So she kept her anger quiet. Waiting. One deep breath followed another to calm herself.

"I have a really bad feeling about this. Why don't we ask someone else? Like Frostbite. Or even Vlad."

"Vlad?" Danny almost spit out the name. "You mean the asshole who cloned me to have a perfect son? I can't even get near his ectoplasm. It wouldn't work anyway. And there's no way I'm letting you go alone to the Ghost Zone."

The anger in the back of her mind decided to take the wheel. "Danny, there has to be another way! You're being unreasonable. Stupid, even."

Danny glared. "Sam, please… I don't need a lecture. I need help, okay? I thought you would understand." His eyes looked pleadingly into hers, but she turned her head and shook it to answer: no.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, a new glare piercing through her. "Look, I'm asking one last time. Can you help me or not? All I need is to look up for any ancient ritual that can work to get my powers back. Or once we find Freakshow, can you at least see if this ritual would work? If you can, that would be awesome. If not, I'll do it on my own, anyway." His eyes turned cold and hurt. "I'm not budging on this."

The girl wanted to protest. She wanted to tell Danny what a horrible idea this was. But she knew how desperate her best friend had been for some respite from the pain the last few weeks. He had even tried to find some comfort in patrols and that backfired monumentally.

If Danny went to search for more information about this ritual or if he went looking for Freakshow on his own, he could get into something deadly dangerous. She still had nightmares about the time she almost fell twice to her death, not to mention how her nerves stood on end at the reminder of the ringmaster's chilling laughter, the unnerving cackle taking her back to the moment on that tight rope as it was cut by the scythe…

No, she couldn't do it... but she wouldn't let Danny do this alone either.

"Fine. I'll look into it," she whispered in defeat. "But promise me you won't go looking on your own. I don't want you to do something stupid. Please at least give me time to investigate this and find a solution that doesn't involve going to find this creep."

"I can agree to that. Yeah," he finally said. He extended his hand to close the agreement, as if that had ever been necessary in the past, but then again… wasn't this uncharted territory for both of them? "Deal?"

Sam felt something stuck in her throat as the heaviness of the situation dawned on her. Her eyes stung with the threat of angry tears. She wanted to scream to the void and let her wail shatter everything around her, as if she could harness the powers her friend had lost. A friend who didn't care how much helping him do this would cost their relationship, her sanity, her trust.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two best friends. Sam knew this was the beginning of a darker path. If Danny was so willing to collaborate with the asshole who tried to kill her, what other sacrifices was he willing to do to get his powers back?

Biting her tongue, she shook Danny's hand, if only to find a way to stall until she could find a different solution. She almost felt like she had lost her best friend. She couldn't bear losing all hope as well.

Finding the right ritual sounded easier said than done. There were tons of materials to look through, from books to scrolls, antique stores, informants, forums… Sam couldn't possibly do it all alone. Hence why she had asked for help.

As soon as she left Danny's room, the shaken girl texted Jazz and asked her to meet the next day. That's how the two spent their afternoon in a library "study session" that went undisclosed to Danny. Tucker had been asked to keep him company while Valerie patrolled in the meantime.

"I still can't believe he wouldn't tell me," Jazz said softly as they sat at a table far away from the entrance. Her eyes looked so tired and disappointed. "I thought he was comfortable telling me how he felt through all of this. I know it's been a struggle. But not like this."

Sam reached out to pat her shoulder lightly. "Jazz, we don't know what he really went through in there. Even if they didn't do any experiments, who's to say they didn't mess with his head somehow?"

The redhead sighed. "I know, and that's the thing. He shared enough of that to realize things were messed up. Did he think I would stop him from looking for this ritual?"

The goth, true to her usually sour mood, shot her a deadpan look. "Seriously? I still can't believe he would even ask me." She turned to stare back at the book in front of her, one she bought from the antique bookshop she visited earlier that day. "I guess he really is that desperate. And Danny can make a much bigger mess of things when he gets desperate."

Jazz nodded. "Yeah, I've noticed a pattern of rash decisions, miscommunication, isolation—"

"Yeah, I get it," Sam interrupted while rolling her eyes. "You've psychoanalyzed him over the years."

Her companion scoffed lightly and returned her attention to the book she took from Sam instead. "Let's just find this ritual."

They read for a couple of hours and compared notes every now and then. Since Danny had been drained from his ectoplasm through the cleanse, whatever that was, they figured there were several rituals that could potentially be closer to what Danny would require. Most seemed more like legendary tales about dead man's blood and bringing back the dead. Surely they could steer away from time shifting or misplacement, if that was something to be concerned about from Freakshow's words.

They compared each source coming down to the same conclusion: there was no consistency between rituals or spells. No common ingredients, no alignment to a specific repetition of words or even of a common language. Sam knew this was how things worked usually in the rituals she performed, but the line they wanted to follow was much more complex than she was used to.

Jazz, despite not being initiated in occult and dark arts like Sam had, noticed it all the same. "I feel like we're not going to get anything useful out of this," the redhead muttered after a while. "Did you notice the missing pages in this one?"

Sam had noticed. She tried not to be too paranoid, but there were pages missing in two of the books she bought from Skulk 'n Lurk. She wouldn't put it past an employee to rip the pages of the overpriced books. Still, it didn't sit well with her that they seemed to coincide with the section they were more interested in.

And Sam didn't believe in coincidences.

She bit one of her nails, ruining the paint on it. "I don't like this, Jazz," she muttered. "What if Vlad's behind this, what if he's been messing with us."

Jazz scrunched up her nose. "What does he have to do in all of this? I thought he was steering clear from Danny."

"He's been disturbingly quiet," Sam replied with a small shrug. "I wouldn't put it past him to keep any options to help Danny out of our reach." Who else would know about Danny's missing ectoplasm to hide the kind of rituals that would be helpful in getting it back?

"Why don't we try looking more into this summoning part? There might be a way to alter it enough to get Frostbite or someone close to Danny to help from the Ghost Zone. It's worth to try, at least."

Sam shook her head. "Danny can't stand being that close to ectoplasm. How is someone like Frostbite going to help without giving him a check-up?"

"Sam, if none of the research is available in any of the books we've found, we won't be able to find any alternative." Jazz stared down at her hands and fidgeted with her highlighter. "Have you considered what would happen if Freakshow's our only option?"

Sam looked away. "I don't want to think about it, Jazz."

"I know it's hard but… we have to. Or we're dooming Danny to no options." Jazz got closer to Sam and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Look, maybe I can talk to him. Danny said he wouldn't remember the whole kidnapping situation with the gauntlet, so he might not remember me."

"And what if he does?" Sam asked with a furrowed eyebrow.

Jazz shrugged. "Then I'll just use my genuine concern as a valid option for finding him. My face has probably been everywhere, by now. He'll believe me. I know it."

There was that Fenton certainty. Or was it stubbornness? Whatever it was, Jazz looked absolutely sure she could pull this off. Maybe Sam needed to let them try other ways to solve this. What if she was just being paranoid for no reason? It comforted her to know they weren't as well-versed in magic to do it on their own.

"Danny wanted me to help—"

"With the magic part, right?" Jazz interrupted, always perceptive. "You can still help with all that. But if Vlad's behind this, we might be running out of time."

That sounded like the final nail to that coffin.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Sam whispered.

Finding Freakshow had been easier than they first thought. Not only had the GIW database been breached by Tucker's hacking without a hitch, but there were also rumors going along Sam's "coven" (if a group that called themselves as such and didn't have many magic practices could be called that). Apparently, Friedrich was becoming a regular in certain circles and kept reading into the dark arts. Sam had stressed that wasn't good news, but Jazz needed to give it a try. In the end, Jazz had been chosen to go talk to him and ask for his help, after all.

For some reason, the man had decided to stay at an abandoned property on the outskirts of Amity Park. The place seemed deserted, an old warehouse of sorts, where not much activity could be seen. Jazz drove her car to the nearest trail, making sure to keep her communicator active with the rest of the team.

Minus Danny. Her brother would have to be left in the shadows, for now, unless they wanted to have a huge discussion they weren't ready for.

Things with Danny continued to be high-strung. He was constantly fidgeting, snapping angrily at everyone, his patience wearing thin. Sam tried assuring him she was looking into everything and being discreet, while everyone kept quiet that they already knew what he had asked her to do. Even this meeting would not be disclosed until the timing was right. Sam reminded them Danny was the one who wanted to meet the ringmaster.

As Jazz walked inside the warehouse's lower level, she noticed there were several things that looked odd about the place. Like the giant clown heads haphazardly hidden behind white sheets, or what seemed to be like platforms decorated with spiderweb drawings and actual webs. This had to be everything Freakshow—nay, Friedrich, as he insisted to be called now, from what their sources told them—had stored away from Circus Gothica. Some things looked decades old, so maybe this was where the Showenhowers had everything they'd encountered locked.

Would Jazz find any artifact that might help or hurt her brother? She wasn't entirely sure.

"Be careful, Jazz," she heard Tucker whisper in her ear, thankful that her long hair kept the device out of sight. "I couldn't locate any cameras or even a router. This guy has enough stuff that could be stolen to be so casual about it."

Jazz cleared her throat twice, indicating she heard loud and clear.

She continued down a large hallway until she found a metal staircase leading to a room that was lit by what seemed to be candles, from the looks of its shadows. She climbed the stairs carefully and entered the threshold. The room looked like an old office, with high ceilings and large windows. It had a mixture of industrial and gothic vibes. Steampunk, maybe? She wasn't as well-versed as Sam when it came to these styles.

The large room was almost empty, except for a large, dusty bookcase and a large desk darkened at the back of the room. Friedrich sat on a tall red chair as he looked at different books and scrolls on the desk. Jazz walked closed and cleared her throat once, 'I'm here', she signaled the others. The bald ringmaster who now sported a long beard turned his red eyes to stare at her. His confusion was immediate with fortunately no signs of recognition.

"Hi," Jazz said in the calmest way possible. "I was told to look for you here?"

The man scratched his beard and tilted his head to the side. "Now what would one of the Fentons want?" he asked, taking Jazz by surprise.

"Oh, so you know who I am?" she asked with a hint of worry that she hoped wasn't so noticeable.

Friedrich sat back in his chair and picked up a glass of what seemed to be wine. "Why of course, dear," he said in a subdued version of his dramatic tone still there. "Your brother's sob story was all over the news. What I wonder is what you would want with me. Surely you don't expect me to advocate your cause against the Ward."

From the time she was kidnapped along with her parents and those of Danny's friends, she knew the man liked receiving praise and attention. She needed to thread carefully to avoid overdoing it. Danny was counting on this.

Jazz shook her head. "Not exactly. I'm looking for answers. The… magical kind. And I know you're one of the brightest occultists out there. I'm sure what I can ask of you would be no biggie, considering everything you can do with your vast knowledge."

Freakshow smirked, his ego receiving enough attention from the looks of it. "Ah, flattery will definitely take you somewhere, child." He leaned forward, resting his chin in his open hands. "What could I possibly help you with? A curse? An amulet perhaps? Do you need any guidance in the darker arts?"

The redhead relaxed a little, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk to ask for permission to sit, which the man immediately granted. "Since you know my brother's story, we found—"

"No, don't tell him about the note!" Sam hushed harshly in her ear.

"Remember you're doing this alone," Tucker added.

Jazz sighed tiredly, dismissing the aggressive voices coming from the communicator in her ear. "We found ourselves in some trouble. Apparently, Danny was hurt by the Ward beyond their expectations."

Friedrich hummed. "I'm not interested in helping with the GIW investigation, unfortunately. My time with them, however terribly spend, is finally over and now the show can go on for me."

"That's precisely the thing," Jazz reasoned. "Danny hasn't been able to go on after that. He's now suffering from the aftermath and can't get anywhere close to ectoplasm. Can you imagine that? Living with ghost hunters and not feeling comfortable under your own roof? That's why… I think you might know a spell to cure his pain."

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them, Jazz felt her heart speed up with fear. Maybe she should go back home and forget about all of this. Maybe—

"I might have a few family recipes to help in your little pickle," he replied as he took another sip of his wine. "How much are you willing to sacrifice for your brother's well-being?"

Jazz's eyes widened as she froze in her seat. She heard and then decided to ignore the voices in the comms protesting, the buzzing contributing to a growing headache. "I would do anything, of course," she whispered, truth laced behind each word.

Freakshow hummed again, this time finishing his glass of wine before leaving it empty on the desk. His hands got a hold of two books, no, they looked like diaries. Handwritten pages caught her attention as the man began to skim through them looking for something.

"Very well, what you're looking for is blood-bonding magic. Or that's what I understand you're after, from all the things those rags have posted, hmm?"

Jazz hesitated before she nodded. That's sort of what she had researched with Sam, at least from the pages that weren't torn by Vlad or whoever was after the same information.

"With that being the case, I will need… your soul," he said in a lower dramatic tone as he stood up from his desk, his eyes piercing from a higher position down onto the girl.

Jazz inhaled sharply, shaken by the implications, until the man barked a loud laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, ha ha!" He continued cackling as Jazz huffed in angry relief. "No, my dear, I only need your blood. And some other ingredients I am sure someone in your position will find easy to acquire." He smiled darkly, stalking around the desk until he stood behind her chair, a gloved hand resting on her shoulder. "Ican do the ritual."

This wasn't what they had in mind. She licked her licks and tried to bargain as they had practiced. "We—I wouldn't be able to bring him here. And I wouldn't be able to explain why we're working with you. Could I maybe have a copy of the ritual?"

Freakshow's smile faltered for a second before it brightened again. "Why, of course, I could maybe share this," he replied with a fake-cheery tone. "I can even give you all my family's heirlooms and journals."

"I understand," Jazz began with her calm reply. Just like you practiced… "Sharing something that has been in your family for generations isn't easy. We come from a long line of ghost hunters. We understand that part. But… maybe we can find a way to compromise?"

"How do you figure we can do that?" Friedrich asked, his dark eyebrow high with suspicion.

Jazz breathed in deeply. "Give us half of the spell and the list of the ingredients. I'll get everything and find meet you somewhere to get the rest of the spell."

"Huh. Sounds like you're trying to get your safety check in place," he muttered. "But, I can respect that. However, I will need something in exchange. Quid pro quo, if you understand. One family secret for another."

Teal eyes stared in confusion. "What would you want in exchange?"

Freakshow shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, just… some ghost blood. Ectoplasm. I'm sure your brother will want nothing to do with it, but I could use some to figure out other less-interesting rituals."

Jazz heard the voices from the comms again, everyone yelling as one 'don't do it!', 'he's hiding something', 'this has bad idea written all over it'. She turned her communicator off and with one determined glare, she extended her hand to the ringmaster. "You have a deal."

Back in his room, Danny squirmed in pain, twisting and huffing on the floor as his parents opened the portal. To find a way to study his aversion to ectoplasm, or so they explained. He wasn't entirely sure.

A shiver ran down his spine, making a scream rip out of his lungs. A figure stood by the foot of his bed, floating amongst the shadows, unbeknownst to those residing in the household.

"It is almost time," the figure declared before it disappeared, leaving Danny gasping for air.

Wishing for this nightmare to end.