(A/N) Hey there! Third story out of five. Two more to update. Let's do this, my amazing, thoughtful, supportive readers. I love you guys!
REQUEST BY: messedupmoon
PROMPT: Deciding to do this because there was no feedback haha. Prompt is Danny gets stuck in the past, around either 1800 or 1900. I decided to do 1916, two years into WW1 and two years before it will end. PART ONE.
WARNING: Violence, death, and war. Nothing gory.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own DP. Sources below.
Danny woke up, throwing his arms over his head to stretch. He felt sore, but better rested. Danny hadn't heard his alarms; was it Saturday already? Before opening his eyes, Danny savored the feeling, ignoring the intrusive crick in his neck. Sighing contentedly, he opened his eyes and blinked slowly. Why was there so many people looking at him? Who was that glaring, with the wire rimmed glasses and poufy silver hair?
His neurons finally showed up for work. That was Mrs. Arkez, his history teacher. He had fallen asleep in class. "Did you enjoy your nap, Danny?" The teacher sighed exasperatedly. Every student except for Sam and Tucker laughed, though some tried politely to hide it. Danny slumped, face burning. Everyone was disappointed in him these days. "Sorry, Mrs. Arkez." Danny tried to pour how apologetic he truly was into that statement. She just nodded. Expected behavior from Daniel Fenton; be completely disrespectful, and take a teacher aback by his sincere and ashamed apologies. She didn't dwell on it like other teachers (Lancer). Everyone rather liked Danny. He was sweet, caring, snarky, perceptive, clumsy, and clueless, and that personality was hard to pair with his academics. It was painful to see the boy who dreamed of stars lose it all.
So, they didn't watch. Essentially, they'd given up punishing the raven, and prayed for the best.
With Danny's newfound energy, he found it easier to pay attention. The rest of the class went without a hitch, although it was annoying how many notebooks and school issued books the class had to comb through that day. Why couldn't this lesson be less scattered? Organization was one of Danny's many struggles. When the bell rang, Danny stacked everything up and slid the pile into his bag, where it fell in with a satisfying thud. He then sat on Tucker's desk, getting annoyed how slow he was being, and checked his watch. Three minutes till fourth period.
Danny didn't want to be annoying, but Sam noticed through his fidgeting anyway. "Tuck, come on," Sam wrapped her arm around the techno geek. Tuck glanced at his ever-present PDA, and he rushed the rest of the packing at his realization of the two minutes left. "Sorry you guys," the boy wrapped his arms around his friends, and they practically ran to the main hallway. "Bye!" the trio shouted at each other simultaneously, each heading to their separate classes with the promise of seeing each other at lunch.
Danny waved goodbye to Tucker (Sam's stop was before theirs) and headed inside. He announced himself, but only dangerous clanging sounds from the lab greeted him. The half ghost sighed. Of course. Heading up the stairs, Danny thought about his day. He only had three ghost attacks. One before school (he was still on time, to his triumph), one during lunch (Tucker stole his cookie during), and one in fifth period math. It was a pretty good day.
The pessimism in Danny whispered that the onslaught would appear right as he was being productive with his homework or something. But Danny didn't dare dwell on it; you never know when a thought might slip out that will jinx you. Instead, he took the opportunity to clean his room, something he didn't do often. It felt—dare he think it again—like a calm day, and Danny wanted to finally get something done. Hopefully the eerie quiet would last another few hours so he could do homework afterwards.
An hour passed and there was still no ghost attack. Sighing, Danny sat on his bed and eyed his newly cleaned room. It would make mom happy, at least. The boy smiled and absentmindedly kicked his feet; he loved his mother more at certain times. One of those times was when he cleaned his room. Maddie would just get so happy. The whole event was almost comical: her inspecting and praising every piece of his sanctuary, giving him more than one hug, and giving him fudge like a trophy. Just as he remembered other little things that made her happy, his foot kicked his heavy backpack, reminding him of his homework.
The ghost boy groaned, but started his math worksheet. After the questions, which seemed to be just the right level of challenging for him, he moved on to his half-finished essay for ELA. It was due on Friday, and Danny planned to use today and Thursday to finish up the last two fourths. The raven smiled as he started. They were learning about clauses, something he happened to be good at in middle school. The essay had to have certain amounts of certain clauses, written about a subject he was passionate about. Space, of course, was his topic.
Danny checked the clock. It was 16:43. The teen chuckled at the military time. As ecto professionals, cataloguing accurately was very important to his parents. But enough about that: he had to start history homework. Searching through his bag, Danny pulled out his notebook. He was digging for his phone so he could use the online textbook and do a few Reading Labs, but stumbled across the textbook itself. "Crud. Must've forgotten to put it up." Resolving to use it for homework and the turn it in inconspicuously tomorrow, Danny opened to page 453. He started to read the first question: 1. Why was Mesopotamia so valuable? Danny started to write the answer, absentmindedly noting that it was now 16:45.
As his graphite pencil scratched against the lined paper, the room was bathed in a strange green. Automatically alert, Danny sprang up and whirled around. There was a natural portal behind him, swirling millions of shades of green, pulsing as if alive. Normally, Danny wouldn't freak out. If ecto entities stayed a safe distance away, the Ghost Zone wouldn't pull them in (which happens because the GZ is trying to reclaim its matter. Ghosts don't rip apart only because their core and willpower keeps them stable). But this portal was an inch behind him, pulling at him too strongly to resist at such close quarters. Suddenly, the teenaged halfa was sucked into the unknown time and place of a natural portal.
When Danny's brain could work again, he was lying on barren ground, with loud booms occupying his eardrums. He seemed to be in a tiny dip. Dust was everywhere, obscuring his vision slightly. This combined with the dizziness and shortness of breath resulting from interspatial travel dazed Danny and made it hard to think. What had happened again? Where was he? Why was it so loud and dusty? He processed these questions for a moment, then sat up. He couldn't answer the last two until he moved. Stupid natural portal… the boy grumbled in his head. Who knows when he would return home? Danny prayed to Clockwork that he would, without complication. Luck, however, loved to toy with the hero more often than not.
BOOM! Danny jumped as the closeness of the sound. Maybe he was with the dinosaurs? If so, he had better run. Intending to do just that, Danny shot to his feet, hand hitting something hard on the way. He looked down and saw he had slapped his history book onto its cover. Shrugging, Danny picked it up. It would be nice to know what dinosaurs to avoid and look out for, at the very least.
He looked around, only to see a dark mass right behind him, ten times his width but only a few inches above his head. "Crap," Danny muttered, and bolted. "There's one over here!" A man's British voice shouted. A man's? The realization made Danny freeze. "It's not worth the bullets, Jackson. Keep moving." So it was late enough for guns.
"No! It's the one that shot Mendez, I know it! That effer is gonna die," Came another voice (that said something other than "effer"), growling and full of hate. "How do you know? Just keep moving, Jackson," a third voice commanded. "We can capture him as a prisoner," a fourth quietly suggested. Then, silence. Danny paused. Why these Brits saying anything? Were they debating? In that case, he'd better move it. He turned around only for the world to go black at the hands of an angry soldier.
When he awoke, Danny heard yelling. The sound summoned his hero complex, and he tried to get up, only to find he was tied up. "You aren't getting outta there, kid." The voice that wanted to kill him informed. The teenager surveyed his surroundings in a panic. They were in a trench, about as wide as four men. Danny was at the very end of it, but if he looked to the right, the shelter bent around a corner. Soldiers, women, and children were scattered around, some wounded. There were boxes stacked up, probably with ammo, first aid, or weapons, and makeshift ladders lead above.
The trench was thoroughly supported with wooden beams crisscrossed on the walls. Girders of the same material appeared in intervals, creating structure for the ceiling of tight fishnet and leaves, probably for disguise and safety against shrapnel. Below that, cloth was hung on wire, maybe to dry? All in all, a messy concoction. It seemed to do its job, though, Danny thought as a rather large piece of shrapnel was caught by the net.
"Why'd you capture me? I didn't do anything," Danny said anxiously. Of course, he could just phase out of the bindings, but he didn't know the effects of revealing his secret just yet. He didn't want to maim the future. "You don't have a German accent. You aren't dressed as a soldier either. No weapon. You a spy? Either that or suicidal." The man said, pointing a gun towards Danny's knee. "No! I swear! I was just caught in the crossfire!" The younger raven pleaded, examining the man's face. He had soft features and dark, cropped hair. His eyes were honey brown and he had a scar on his neck, running from his ear. But his eyes were now cold. He was a man who wouldn't hesitate to do his job.
"From where? All German captives are behind their defense lines. No sane person would otherwise be in this area. How'd you make it so far?" Danny wanted to come up with a lie, but none formulated. "I knew it. Now, I don't know much about interrogation. But I know you'll be in hell as soon as we get home. Brandy!" The man suddenly shouted, making Danny jump. "Lock him up!" The aforementioned man ran in. "I'll do whatever it is, but you need to know the German defenses by Somme are-"
"I'm aware. Just lock this dirtbag up."
"But Jackson, we weren't told to take prison—"
"We also weren't told not to. I'll deal with it later. Just do it."
The man called in had talked in a French accent. He hesitated, blue eyes alert. "Fine. Let's go." Danny was suddenly untied. He stupidly tried to run for it, but was knocked to his knees. "YOU SCUM!" Jackson roared, tying Danny back up roughly and tightly. "I KNEW IT!" Brandy kicked him in the ribs, making Danny groan and collapse on the floor. "Move," Brandy hissed, shoving him up and to the right. Knowing it would be unwise to retort with a gun now to his head, the halfa allowed himself to be shoved around the bend. With each jostle or trip, Danny's ribs caught on fire. "Keep him in the big box by the third ladder. Have you and Lorise push our heaviest boxes against the opening. It's not the best, but it'll do."
Ten minutes later, Danny was sitting in that box, waiting until the two men were done pushing so he could invisibly phase out and fly away. When he heard no more grunting and scraping, Danny easily escaped and flew out of the trench. From what he had learned, the area wasn't safe. There was some sort of fighting between the British, French, and Germans. If only he knew why… Danny stopped in midair. His history book! That could tell him what was happening, if this wasn't the future. Danny flew higher, and spotted the dip he was in earlier. Elated by the success, Danny flew down and found his book a few yards away.
Sitting down and picking it up, Danny leafed through the pages, using the index to find pages about war. Funny, he thought. The index is actually useful outside of school. Giving himself a quirky smile, Danny searched for five minutes. Nothing. Danny tried again. What did the French man say? German defenses around Somme? Danny looked up Somme in the index, and found two adjacent pages listed next to it. Flipping to them, Danny proceeded to read the paragraph with the highlighted word.
"The Battle of the Somme (1 July - 18 November 1916) was a joint operation between British and French forces intended to achieve a decisive victory over the Germans on the Western Front. For many in Britain, the resulting battle remains the most painful and infamous episode of the First World War.
In December 1915, Allied commanders had met to discuss strategies for the upcoming year and agreed to launch a joint French and British attack in the region of the River Somme in the summer of 1916. Intense German pressure on the French at Verdun throughout 1916 made action on the Somme increasingly urgent and meant the British would take on the main role in the offensive. They were faced with German defences that had been carefully laid out over many months. Despite a seven-day bombardment prior to the attack on 1 July, the British did not achieve the quick breakthrough their military leadership had planned for and the Somme became a deadlocked battle of attrition.
Over the next 141 days, the British advanced a maximum of seven miles. More than one million men from all sides were killed, wounded or captured. British casualties on the first day – numbering over 57,000, of which 19,240 were killed – make it the bloodiest day in British military history. The Somme, like Verdun for the French, has a prominent place in British history and popular memory and has come to represent the loss and apparent futility of the war. But the Allied offensive on the Somme was a strategic necessity fought to meet the needs of an international alliance. British commanders learned difficult but important lessons on the Somme that would contribute to eventual Allied victory in 1918."
-Excerpted from Imperial World Museums' 10 Significant Battles of the First World War*
Danny's mind reeled. He was one of the bloodiest wars in history, on one of the bloodiest days. Perfect. Danny knew he needed to leave immediately. If he stayed any longer, his hero complex would destroy him, turn him insane with how little he could do. The raven shot up ten feet, and looked at his book. If he headed West, he could make it to North America. At least there he would know his surroundings a bit better.
He was about to shoot off, when the halfa heard a cry. "Cover me! He's shot!"
"No, don't go! You'll get shot too! You'll get all of us shot!"
"I have to TRY, Hallen! COVER ME!"
No, Danny's conscious whispered. If you leave, they'll all die. No. Wars happened. He needed to leave. He couldn't save everyone, anyway. He'd just destroy himself. Are you saying their lives are insignificant to you if you'd get hurt? NO, I- Sounds like it. I can't stay. You could. You could help these people. What if I destroy the timeline? Clockwork would stop you. And what if you're what's needed for history to go right?
Screaming in frustration, Danny landed and broke into a run. He saw Jackson, running in gunfire. He saw three bullets, suddenly slow moving, heading towards Jackson's head, heart and rib. He saw the ground under his feet blurring. He saw his hands go up, and green erupt out of them. He saw the bullets hit the shield, never making it to their target.
"Kid? What the hell just happened? How'd you escape? Wha-wha-"
"Jackson, I'm Danny," said boy interrupted, extending his shield to encompass their entire bodies. More bullets hit it. "I know this is weird and scary. It is for me, too. Please don't tell anyone and I'll explain, but right now, get your friend. I'll protect you. JUST GO!"
Pale but comprehending, Jackson nodded and ran. Danny did the same, protecting the three bodies until they reached the trench. "YOU DID IT!" One soldier cheered. Others did the same. "I had help." A few looked confused. "From who?" A man named Jason Hallen questioned. "Well, Hallen, from—" Finn Jackson looked behind him, ready to credit their old captive, only to find thin air. Panic and confusion seized him. "Jackson?" Hallen touched his shoulder.
Jackson looked back to his friend and gave a thin smile. "From the Lord. I gotta go drop off Voldes and talk to our captive." Hallen nodded and released him. After gingerly dropping off the injured soldier to Marrise, a nurse from home, Jackson pushed a few boxes from Danny's prison, and opened the door. There the boy was, hands somehow passing through the binding ropes and back into place. Feeling faint, the soldier arranged the boxes around the door to close the pair off, giving them privacy, and sank to the ground in front of the younger raven, who winked. "Questions?" The battle worn man nodded weakly. "Well. I'm all yours."
(A/N) Whoop! PART ONE IS DONE! I will try to get more of Jackson's perspective soon. Next chapter will be a different idea, but don't worry. More of this is on the way! Anyway, thanks for reading! If you want, drop a review and tell me how I did ;) Again, thank you, my wonderful readers. Enjoy your day. And PM me challenges.
Sources
* www. iwm. org. uk. /history/10-significant-battles-of-the-first-world-war
www. history. come /topics/world-war-i/world-war-i-history
Imagery inspired by Wonder Woman 2017
Google map of Europe
www. diggerhistory. info /images/maps/map-ww1. gif