Breaking Dawn

A Danny Phantom Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own Danny Phantom.

"Hate is not born. It is taught."-Confucius

Chapter 6: Fentonworks Besieged!

Prologue

Amity Park, two hours ago…

The shadows were lengthening with the approach of the impending twilight, and the concrete sidewalk underfoot made a sharp, clip-clopping sound underneath the pointy-heeled shoes in which the feet of a severe, sour-faced woman were clad. Her cold eyes, pursed lips, hooked nose and permanent grimace gave her an air of unmistakable unpleasantness, and the dour, drab-colored suit and business skirt she wore only added to the frosty aura she carried about her person.

Fallen leaves swirled in the freshening wind, dancing around the ankles of Claudia Barousse as they whistled and scraped in the breeze. Like a miniature dust devil the loose arboreal detritus whirled like a frenzied dervish, and the aspen trees that had been planted in regular intervals along the pavement bent like saplings as the gale grew stronger.

Danny's teacher and self-appointed tormentor turned the collar of her jacket upwards in a vain attempt to ward off a chill, and her face puckered even further in disapproval of the sudden change in weather. Her hair, the color of steel wool, threatened to burst from its tightly wound bun, and Barousse hurriedly closed the distance between herself and her secret destination. As best as her arthritic knees allowed, the old crone dashed across the cement walkway, her ridiculous shoes clicking and clacking all the while.

Slightly out of breath, her sunken cheeks flushed with exertion, Barousse came to a screeching halt in front of a deceptively innocuous-looking structure. It was nothing special, as buildings go, built of red brick with a chain-link fence around its lawn. The roof was of clay shingles, the windows tightly locked, and the shutters firmly closed and latched into place. A dim glow could be seen emanating from underneath the door, and Barousse took a moment to check her reflection in a handheld mirror before snapping it shut and pressing a button on the intercom.

"Password?" a voice, made tinny by old wiring, could just barely be heard over the crackling static.

"Iggy sent me," Barousse replied in a bored tone.

There followed a series of clicks as a variety of locks were removed, and the insufficient glow of a single lamp bathed Barousse's cold face as a man ushered her inside.

"You're just in time," he said kindly, looking for all the world like a man going to church rather than an attendee at a clandestine gathering. "The weekly Gathering is about to begin."

"How many more have been Enlightened?" Barousse asked, her words hushed with reverence.

"Some dozens. More come every day," the man replied, his eyes sparkling with a disturbing zealotry. "Our ranks grow with those who wish to support the Cause and spread the Truth."

Barousse's face looked like it might crack as it split into a rare smile, and she and her companion hurried down a short flight of steps whilst the far-off murmurs of myriad voices grew into a loud drone as the spiraling stairway took them down into the building's basement. The air was thick, stale, muggy and sullen, but this did nothing to dissipate the reverent, almost religious atmosphere that pervaded this gathering. Dozens of people, both old and young, were already present here, milling about like aimless sheep before a large podium and antiquated film projector. Nearby was a table, stacked with what this group euphemistically called "information pamphlets, and some of the attendees held their copies close like a religious artifact as the muted conversation settled into silence.

A man with a toothbrush moustache, dressed in a black suit and tie, stepped up to the microphone to open the proceedings.

"Good evening, everyone," he began, smiling reassuringly. "And might I say that it is enormously gratifying to see that so many of you have come to see past the lies and deceit that the media has been shoving down the throats of honest citizens of late. We who have gathered here know the Truth, know better than to be fooled by the ravings of government toadies and impure abominations. Together, we can spread our Message far and wide, and avert the catastrophe that will surely ensue if the Dark One is allowed to roam among us!"

"Amen!" a hundred voices roared back.

"We here commit to this worthy ideal, and for the good of all humanity, we declare ourselves the champions of mankind, the Society of Light! Only through our efforts can this new evil be vanquished…by any means necessary!"

The cheers grew louder as a knife appeared in the speaker's hand, and he pinned a slightly fuzzy photograph to an adjacent wall with far more force than was necessary. The blade's hilt protruded from the plaster as the metal was driven deep, and the joyous shouts turned to threats and bloodthirsty cries as Danny Fenton, a digitally enhanced scowl on his face, stared out from the Polaroid film that had capture his likeness.

"We can no longer rely on the police or the moneygrubbing bureaucrats who sit upon the once-proud seat of American justice! They are naïve, deceived and blinded by the ghost child's malevolent influence! The media hails him as a hero, calling him a savior when one such as he is only able to destroy! His fell powers and eldritch abilities pose a threat not only to us, but to the entirety of the human race, and if action is not taken, the Dark Child will run rampant through our homes! He will snatch away our children, lay our cities to waste, and drive us away like frightened cattle! Will we allow it?"

"NO!" a hundred voices shouted back.

"Then for our children, for our wives and husbands, I call upon the Society to take matters into our own hands! We will drive the Fenton child from Amity, and we will not stop until his true motives are made clear! We will not stop until he is reviled for the unholy abomination he is and cast out from man, and only when this has been accomplished will our glorious crusade come to an end!"

Furious roars made the building's very foundations tremble, and, as one, the Society members pumped their clenched fists into the air.

"He's gotta be stopped!"

"If they won't do something about it, we will!"

"Son of the Devil!"

"Spawn of Darkness!"

"We must reveal the truth!"

A colorful assortment of Halloween masks and makeshift weapons such as pipes and wrenches were pressed into grasping fingers, and as she donned an elaborate disguise of Mardi Gras feathers, a dreamy, idealistic look suffused Claudia Barousse's stern features; such a devoted expression seemed highly unsuited for her hawkish, horse-shaped face. A slow smile stretched her thin, pale lips, revealing Barousse's tombstone-shaped teeth, and her eyes glittered with hate that was reinforced with utterly religious conviction…

Now…

The rapidly fading glow of the setting sun painted the sky with splashes of deep crimson and blazing scarlet until it seemed as though the clouds had been soaked with blood, and the shafts of red light that seeped through the window of Maddie and Jack Fenton's bedroom cast an almost unearthly pallor upon the Fenton household.

The door creaked open, and Maddie Fenton, garbed in a loose robe, looked up from the sink where she had been removing her contact lenses. Her flaming red hair was slightly askew, and her worried expression was reflected in the mirror as she looked up at her husband, Jack.

The Fenton patriarch seemed even wearier than his wife. Jack's hair, already streaked with silver, seemed to be turning just a little grayer around the edges as the past few days' ordeal began to take its toll. His signature orange jumpsuit had been replaced by an old-fashioned nightie and stocking cap, and Jack's large feet were clad in a pair of ridiculous-looking bunny slippers.

"How is he?" Maddie asked softly, wiping her lipstick away on a nearby washrag.

"Fast asleep, thank goodness," Jack murmured. "I was starting to worry that our boy would never be able to get some shuteye, what with everything that's happened."

"Danny's under a lot more pressure than he's letting on," Maddie agreed sadly before anguish turned to despair. "Oh, Jack, what are we going to do? I thought…after Vlad…we could pick up and move on…"

Jack's wife buried her face in his sleeve and began sobbing, and her husband's face creased with sympathy for Maddie and worry for his son. "It'll be all right, you'll see," Jack murmured. "Just give it time."

"How can we send Danny back out there?" Maddie moaned. "What kind of parents are we, to throw Danny back into the lion's den day after day?"

"He'll have to deal with it sooner or later," Jack reminded her. "And we can't keep him locked up in Fentonworks forever. You know how Danny is; he's never been one to put something off when he'd just as soon get it over with."

"I wish things were back to the way they were," Maddie sniffed. "I wish none of this had ever happened! Danny never deserved any of it!"

"No, he didn't," Jack said quietly. "But there's no way we can undo what Vlad did to our son, to our family. All we can hope to do for Danny is to be there for him if and when he needs us. You and I, Jazz, Tucker and Sam will all be by Danny's side when things get rough, and if he falls, all of us will be there to help him get back on his feet."

Jack drew his arms around her, patting her head gently. "It'll work out in the end."

A sound made Maddie tilt her head upwards, and her eyes became small and frightened as she realized what the source of the noise had to have been.

It was the unmistakable cacophony of breaking glass.

"Jack…did you hear that?"

Meanwhile…

In the Fentons' guest bedroom, Agent Thomas Brody's eyes flashed open as his keen ears, honed by decades of law enforcement, picked up the sound of a window that shattered under the impact of some unknown projectile. The venerable cop's soldier sense buzzed inside his skull like a nest of hornets, and he was instantaneously awake as his fingers clutched the battered Sig Sauer which lay by his bedside. In one fluid movement, Brody had loaded and cocked the weapon's hammer back before his bare feet had even hit the floor. Clad only in a non-sleeve T-shirt and pinstripe boxers, Brody padded silently down the hall like a panther and thrust open the door to Danny Fenton's room. The ghost boy, sound asleep across the hall, gave a startled gasp as the shadow of Brody loomed over him, and the agent pressed a finger to his lips for quiet before gesturing for Danny to follow him.

"What's going on?" Danny mouthed silently.

Brody shook his head, shrugging ambiguously. Apparently he did not have time to waste on full sentences. A nod in the direction of Jazz's room was all the encouragement Danny needed to silently rouse his sister, and seconds later an irate Jazz stormed from her bedroom in a set of teddy-bear pattern pajamas.

"Do you have any idea what time it-oomph!"

Jazz's eyes widened as Brody's meaty fingers clapped across her mouth, stifling any further protest, and the agent spoke while barely moving his lips.

"Quiet, Missy. I thought I heard something," Brody murmured. "Danny, I need you to take your sister and parents to safety, quietly. The downstairs lab should do as a safehouse for now."

"What do you think is happening?" Jazz's voice was small.

"No telling," Brody growled. "But I've got a gut feeling that says that something ain't right. Now go!" he added harshly, giving Danny a shove for emphasis. "Rendezvous with me in the kitchen once you're sure everyone else is out of harm's way. If there are hooligans out and about, we'll make sure to send them packing."

Danny's normally cheerful face was now as serious as the scars on his body, his mouth firmly set in a grim slash as he phased through the floor with Jazz in tow…

At the same time…

The street lamps had only just begun bathing the concrete in their harsh illumination as a second vandal, clad in the façade of a gorilla mask, prepared to heave a second rock through the Fenton family's now-ruined front window. A web-like series of cracks emanated from the gaping hole in the once-flawless glass, and what remained of the savaged window was completely destroyed under the impact of the assailant's hurling projectile. The remorseless piece of granite sent dagger-like shards of shrapnel scattering onto the floor as it demolished everything in its path, and from within Fentonworks could be heard a terrified sob as Danny's mother, Maddie, almost gave in to her terror.

The sound of her distress only deepened Danny's resolve as he deftly and swiftly changed into his ghostly-alter ego amidst a blinding flash of light, and he turned his body intangible just in time to avoid the spray of shattered window pieces that would otherwise have lodge painfully in his flesh. Danny winced automatically as the deadly rain whizzed through his body, but fear turned to outrage as he beheld the damage to his home. Rage and righteous fury made his blood seethe, and it was only with the utmost self-control that he kept himself from bellowing a challenge at the unseen assailants.

Fighting would come later, he knew. Danny's priority at this moment in time was to ensure the well-being of his loved ones.

Maddie gave a mouse-like squeak as the door to her bedroom swung open, but fear turned to relief as Danny gathered his mother and father into his arms.

"What on Earth is happening out there?" she asked.

"You're better off not knowing, at least for now," Danny replied grimly. "You guys and Jazz have to go downstairs to the laboratory, okay? You'll be safe there."

"Where's Brody?"

"Upstairs, last I saw," Danny murmured, turning his parents and sister intangible and sinking promptly into the floor. "He woke me up 'cause he thought something was up, and now I agree."

"So that noise…" Jack paled as the realization of his peril dawned upon him.

"Yeah, that was our window being broken," Danny replied.

"What do they want?" Jazz asked. "Why attack us? We haven't done anything!"

"I don't think it's you they're after," Danny whispered, before the tile swallowed him up.

Agent Brody, watching unseen from the adjoining hallway, breathed a short sigh of relief as he watched the Fenton family descend to safety. The safety of his sidearm made an ominous click as he switched it off, and the crackling taser he grasped in his adjoining hand doubled the threat Brody posed to any intruder who might be foolish enough to enter Fentonworks unwanted. Thus armed, Brody moved with all the quiet stealth of a trained assassin, his grip light but firm, and he chanced a peek over the living from couch to assess the gravity of this unexpected threat.

Brody immediately regretted this decision, as he only just avoided having a brick collide with his skull by ducking back below the cushions. The risk, however, had been worth it; he now knew, even after such a brief glimpse, how many assailants had gathered on Fentonworks. Normally, this would not be even remotely possible, but after more than twenty years working for the FBI, one tends to pick up a few proverbial tricks.

Brody's veteran ears suddenly noticed something, or, to be more specific, he noticed something that was not there to be noted in the first place. If this was indeed an ordinary, run-of-the-mill angry mob, one would normally expect to hear noise. Shouts of derision, jeers or cries would by now have reached deafening levels, but rather than the usual cacophony to which he'd been accustomed, Brody heard…nothing. The only sound to denote the presence of the attackers was the shaking of foliage as they trampled Maddie Fenton's flower patch, the soft rustle of clothing against skin, but other than these no other sound could be picked up by the venerable agent.

That made this whole mess all the more disturbing. The lack of noise or communication was evidence that this was not a random assault, as Brody had first believed, but rather a carefully coordinated, well-planned strike against the Fentons' home. Whoever these people happened to be, they were obviously not a disorganized rabble.

This raised even more questions as Brody's brain began to churn. Who the hell were these people? Were they working alone, with others, or on behalf of someone else? What were their motivations? How had they been able to slip under his radar? And were they indeed after Danny, or someone else?

Brody's fingers tightened on the stock of his Sig, and he took a split second to summon his courage. No brick-throwing hooligan is gonna scare Thomas Benjamin Brody, he thought fiercely. I've taken down tougher guys than this on my worst of days!

Something bumped Brody's elbow, and his aim automatically swiveled to face the perceived threat as the cold metal barrel pressed against Danny Fenton's forehead. The teen's raven hair was still slightly askew with "bed-head," but Danny's eyes were clear and focused as he directed a questioning glance at his friend.

Brody shrugged by way of apology, not daring to speak lest he give away Danny's presence. The ghost boy seemed to understand this despite the lack of verbal communication, and a nod from the agent was all Danny needed before the two burst from behind the cover of the now-ruined sofa. Danny's palms glowed with green energy, and Brody's weapon stared balefully down at the shadows that moved in night-

-But the two heroes' charge turned into a rule as a glass bottle sailed through the ruin that had once been the Fenton's living room. Admittedly this object was relatively benign all by itself, but when stuffed with combustibles and when using a gasoline soaked rag as a makeshift fuse, the once-innocent soda product was transformed from a household object into a crude yet effective weapon. Popularly known as a Molotov cocktail, the makeshift bomb would explode and set fire to anything in the immediate vicinity once the mixture of gasoline and oil ignited, and white-hot pieces of molten glass would melt flesh right off the bones of any who came to close. The fire that the ignition was meant to create tended to burn ferociously, even when doused with water, and Brody's eyes widened with shock and horrified recognition as he realized exactly what was being tossed his way.

"Oh-"

What would have come after the "Oh" was anyone's guess, but knowing Brody it probably would have been censored anyway. It was only by the grace of Brody's lightning reflexes that he was able to avoid having his head melted right off his shoulders, and Danny, being an astute young man, promptly followed suit and ducked back behind the now-shredded cushions as the spinning bottle, trailing smoke and flame, landed amidst the clutter of the Fenton's kitchen. It was only a matter of seconds before the homemade bomb ignited, and Danny aimed to blast the blazing projectile out of existence-

-Only to have his young face suffuse with utter horror as the Molotov cocktail ignited with an earsplitting pop and a burst of searing heat. Flickering tongues of orange and red fire were sprayed in every direction whilst the air became thick with smoke, and through his watering, bleary eyes, Brody took aim and fired at the fleeing intruders. Whether any of the shots found their mark was very much in doubt, but the act of shooting at somebody usually made Brody feel better in such situations.

Danny coughed raggedly, his own eyes streaming as he held a hand in front of his face to ward off the flames, and his gaze was already red-rimmed from the sulfurous smoke as he pointed in the escapees' direction.

"They're getting away!" he cried.

"Forget about them, kid!" Brody snarled, his voice hoarse and rough from breathing in the choking gas. "We can always go after them another day, but there won't be another day if you don't help me put this out before the whole house burns down! You got a fire extinguisher around here?"

"Don't need it," Danny grunted, his lungs beginning to burn. "I can suck the moisture from the air to fuel my ice powers."

"There is no moisture in the air!" Brody hissed.

"Shut up and let me concentrate, will you?" Danny asked him, his normally cheery tone replaced by uncharacteristic gruffness due to the urgency of the situation. Brody fell immediately silent as the ghost child reached for the globe of numbingly cold energy that lay within his chest, and Danny's eyes turned a chilling blue as the room temperature became noticeably lower. Whatever water vapor remained within a six-foot radius of Danny Fenton was immediately sucked through his pores as if in a vacuum, and his breath was exhaled in an icy cloud whilst his lips turned the color of frozen raspberries. Like a raging river blocked by a dam, the power within Danny's body grew exponentially until every fiber of his being was filled to the brim with raw, unfettered and freezing power. Though he would never admit it, it was enormously relieving to Danny to be able to let loose like this, albeit in such a way that no one would be hurt. After observing self-restraint and control for so long, some lesser part of Danny reveled in the simple act of lashing out with all his might at whatever got in his way. To feel every cell in his body humming with the force of his might made Danny feel alive as he had never felt before. To feel such power was utterly intoxicating, almost like being raised to the power of infinity. That he wielded such force made Danny feel as though nothing could stand against him, and the imminent unleashing of the full brunt of his fury was an act that seemed oddly freeing in its primeval simplicity.

"Almost…there…" Danny grunted, his face contorting as he neared his breaking point.

Brody was smart enough to know that Danny couldn't hold on to such a buildup of ghostly energy for long, and when ice began to settle on the hem of his T-shirt, he had the good sense to shield his eyes and face only seconds before an electric blue shockwave of freezing cold issued forth from Danny's entire body. Rays of chilling light, so cold that it burned like dry ice, made Brody squinch his eyelids shut as the icy wind howled like a shrieking banshee. The furious flames that had seemed so invincible only moments before were extinguished with a great, collective hiss as icicles and webs of feathery-looking frost formed on any surface unfortunate enough to be exposed. Brody felt his teeth begin to chatter like castanets as his knees began to quake, and flakes of ice gave his black-colored, unshaven stubble a salt-and-pepper appearance. Tiny formations of ice even formed on Brody's eyelashes, snapping off audibly when he tried to blink, and only when Brody's sight cleared and his disorientation from the freezing blast subsided did he realize that Fenton, with one fell swoop, had single-handedly put out an inferno that would have given a dozen fire-fighters a run for their money.

Danny's skin was an unhealthy blue as his chest heaved with exertion, a cold, exhausted sweat covering his bare chest with a clammy sheen, and he remained conscious just long enough to see that his efforts had succeeded before collapsing from a dangerously low core body temperature. The young man crumpled like a fallen warrior before a scything sword, a soft groan escaping his frostbitten lips, and Danny's fingers and toes, brittle from frostbite, threatened to snap clean off under the weight of his unconscious body.

Brody's feet threatened to slide out from underneath him as he dove to catch the exhausted Fenton before he cracked his skull open on the ice-covered tile, and Danny's momentum almost caused Brody to lose his balance as the agent, supporting the hero in the crook of one arm, used his free hand to grasp a nearby receiver. Praying that the ice hadn't shorted out the phone, Brody punched in a number and nearly sagged with relief as one of his subordinates picked up on the other end.

"This is Brody," the agent said harshly, not giving the other man time to speak. "I'm calling in a Code Red, repeat, Code Red! The perimeter has been breached and I've got a kid here who's gonna turn into a popsicle if he doesn't get to a hospital now! Send an ambulance right away, and if it's not here in five minutes I'll have your badge in my desk drawer by the time your shift's over, do you understand? Get me the Amity Police Department down here, and send everyone we can spare from the Bureau to Amity Park so I can put these bastards away! Conduct a perimeter sweep and get the boys from Forensics to pull out all the stops! I want these guys behind bars by breakfast or there'll be the Devil to pay!"

Slamming the phone back onto its hook, Brody held Danny close so as to warm the boy's frigid skin with the heat from his own body. It was a small gesture, but even the tiniest of efforts, Brody knew, could make the difference in times such as these.

"Don't you die on me now, kid," the grizzled agent growled, his outwardly gruff and crusty demeanor masking his worry and grief as the wail of sirens drew ever closer. "Or so help me, I'll find you when I get to the other side and kick your ass…"

Epilogue

From a safe distance away, from the vantage point of a nearby hilltop, two men watched the onslaught of police vehicles screech to a collective halt before a horde of law enforcement officers stormed the grounds amidst the glow of flashlights and the barking of tracking dogs. Slowly, ever so slowly so as not to draw unwanted attention, the first man in the driver's seat put their getaway car into reverse before speeding down the deserted highway.

By the time the cops realized it, the perpetrators would be long gone.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, the driver flipped open an illegal burn phone and punched in the only number it contained on its speed dial.

Less than a second later, someone answered, and the man's face split into a disturbing grin.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly. "Everything is proceeding according to plan…"

A/N: Oh, crap! Will Danny be okay? Will Agent Brody bring down the Society of Light? And will our hero ever win the trust and acceptance of those he strives to protect? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^

On a more serious note, please keep in mind that this will probably be the last update I can get in before I embark on the Alaska cruise; the ship, sadly, has no internet connection, wireless or otherwise, and thus I fear I shall remain indisposed for more than a week until I return home in early June. In the meantime, however, I hope this new update will suffice for now, and I renew my promise to return to my regular updating schedule as soon as I possibly can. Until then, I'm afraid this story is still officially on hiatus, and I wish to express my gratitude, to all of you, for your patience and understanding.

I am, and shall ever remain,

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque

P.S. If there are any obvious typos in this story, I apologize, but I'm typing this late at night and I'm getting kinda sleepy. Rest assured that I shall go back and fix the errors as soon as time allows.