Breaking Dawn
A Danny Phantom Fanfic by Quill N. Inque
I do not own Danny Phantom.
Chapter 20: Back to School, Back to Hell
(A/N: Sorry to have this up a little later than usual. I had a bout of writer's block over the weekend, and I suppose, statistically, it had to happen sooner or later. XD Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and I apologize for the delay. ^^)
It was a bright, cheery spring morning that saw Danny and Sam, striding hand in hand, down the sidewalk on the way to class that day. The sky was a flawless azure blue with nary a cloud in sight, the air hung thick with the scent of pollen and the chirping of a choir of songbirds, and the yellow blossoms of daffodils grew into carpets of petals that creased underfoot as the young couple made their way across the street. Danny waved cheerily to a driver that stopped to let him pass, and was even rewarded when the vehicle's operator waved back at him.
Danny had every reason to feel cheery. After all, he and his friends had succeeded in their mission to infiltrate the Society's headquarters. It was now only a matter of time before they nailed Skyrme to the wall like a piece of plywood. For the first time since his ordeal at the hands of the maniacal Vlad Plasmius, things were finally beginning to look up for young Danny.
But, at the risk of sounding clichéd, looks can be quite deceiving.
The sound of hurried footsteps caused Danny to glance over his shoulder, and he felt worry stir within his heart at the sight of Tucker Foley, red-faced and heaving like a blacksmith's bellows, hurrying up to join him. The other boy's breath came in rapid bursts as he bent over in an attempt to regulate his breathing, and Danny gave him a questioning glance as Tucker wordlessly thrust a copy of the Amity Herald towards him.
"You're…not…gonna…believe…this…" Tucker gasped.
"What is it?" Sam couldn't help being curious.
"Turn to…editorial…section…" Danny's friend flapped a hand wearily. "Just when you think…the Society…can't sink any lower…"
Sam promptly thumbed through the newsprint to the section Tucker had indicated-
-Only to have her mouth fall open with horror at the bold-printed editorial that dominated no less than an entire page. Danny's face turned redder than a tomato as he beheld the scathing article that had been published by an "anonymous" representative of the Society of Light; indeed, the picture box next to the sentence "name withheld" was conspicuously empty.
The only pictures in the article were of Danny and Sam, and on their date at the mall, no less. The cameraman, undoubtedly the unscrupulous Paul Sims, had even had the audacity to take a close-up of the two kissing outside the arcade!
And if the two lovebirds thought the pictures were bad, what the article itself had to say was even worse. Ghost Child Seduces Daughter of Well-Respected Socialites, the title trumpeted in obnoxiously oversized letters. Community in State of Shock!
It was the sort of thing that would have looked more at home in a supermarket tabloid rather than a well-respected newspaper. Sam looked as though she were on the verge of vomiting, and Danny took a deep, shuddering breath before forcing himself to read further:
This was the scene at the Amity Park shopping center just days ago, where the so-called 'hero,' Danny Fenton, appears to have twisted and seduced the heiress of the multimillionaire Manson family. Samantha Manson, the young woman shown here, was undoubtedly not in her right mind or fooled by this devious boy's cunning trickery when she was seen in public locking lips with the infamous ghost child. Danny Fenton, who until just recently been a fugitive wanted for questioning in connection with the murder of our good Mayor Sanchez, has now gone far enough to push this respectable girl into lewd and undecent acts entirely inappropriate for people of her age group; there are even signs of domestic abuse that have recently come to light! Ms. Manson was hospitalized not two days back after a violent attack on her person; though Mr. Fenton has insisted that the assault was perpetrated by the good and noble Society of Light (for more information on their heroic crusade, see page 7), we all know good and well that the blows were dealt by none other than Fenton himself! Fenton no doubt wished to assert an enormous level of physical, social and psychological dominance over a confused and frightened girl, and one can only wonder when Ms. Manson will come to her senses and report Fenton's barbaric behavior to the proper authorities. "I fear for her," Sam's mother told reporters earlier today. "She's always been a rebellious girl, but this time she could really get hurt!" Ms. Manson's father added that Fenton appears to have brainwashed their daughter, as Sam has, on multiple occasions, refused to listen to reason and voiced a desire to stay with Fenton (no doubt the result of Fenton's constant abuses and intimidation).
Where will it end, my friends? This deviant not only damages public property: now he has gone far enough to sweep our daughters away, one by one! How long is it until we hear tell of an illicit child borne by one of these unfortunate young ladies? How much longer will we tolerate Mr. Fenton's pretenses of heroism and his deceitful lies of a desire to lead a "normal" life?
Danny looked away. He couldn't bear to read any more; he had never been so humiliated in his entire life. "To think I was actually looking forward to school today," the ghost boy muttered bitterly. "So much for optimism, I guess!"
"That Paul Sims…" Sam growled. "I hope Brody strangles him when he sees this! These are his pictures that he took of us!"
"This also explains why almost everybody was looking at us kinda weird, now that you mention it," Danny added thoughtfully. "Not that it makes things any better. How many people do you think have seen this?"
"Almost everyone at school will have heard about it by now," Tucker shook his head. "Man, this is gonna be a rough day for all of us."
"By now," Danny snarled, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it over his shoulder, "I think I should be used to it. Damn the Society! Even when they're almost beaten, they manage to screw up my life one more time!"
The crowded courtyard of Casper High loomed into view as a most unwelcoming sight, and Sam shook her head as she and Danny both gave an enormous, weary sigh.
"Well, into the lion's den we go," Sam muttered. "I don't suppose we happen to have an angel hanging around?"
Danny made a show of surveying the cloudless sky as the bell rang for classes. "No such luck, I'm afraid."
The young man took a moment to brace himself as he proceeded through the door, and after squinching his eyes shut a moment, Danny pulled the entrance wide open while praying that no one would notice him.
But Lady Luck, as she had done so many times before, had abandoned him yet again. No sooner had Danny stepped into the hallway than the entire student body stood completely still.
Their accusing glances and contemptuous gazes pierced Danny's skin like flaming arrows, and he was compelled to look away as hundreds of eyes met his own. The air became thick with the hushed whispers that flew thick and fast from person to person, and though none of them reached Danny's ears, he had no doubt that his fellow alumni were talking about him.
Him and Sam, that is. Sam, whom Danny loved with all his heart and soul, was now as much an object of scorn as he. That she would be forced to endure humanity's hatred for his sake made guilt, mindless and without reason, stir in his belly like a nest of snakes as the three friends silently made their way to down the corridor.
Sam gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just ignore them, okay? I'll see you at lunch."
"R-right," Danny nodded, grinning in spite of himself. The foolish smile he sported had been seen on many a young man who had tasted the sweetness of love for the first time. "Easier said than done, though."
A blush spread across Danny's cheeks as his girlfriend returned his rueful smile and brushed a stray lock out of her eyes, and for a moment he stood rooted to the spot, captivated only by her.
Then Danny turned around and was suddenly reminded whose class he and Sam had been assigned for the first period of the day.
Claudia Barousse, Algebra 101, the sign outside the classroom proclaimed.
"Crap," the Goth muttered succinctly.
"I was thinking of a stronger word," Danny replied, cradling his head in his hands. "Man, she's gonna have a field day if she's read the paper this morning."
"Maybe she hasn't had time to do that yet," Sam said hopefully.
"Wishful thinking, Sam…"
Moments later…
"Well, well," the horse-faced Barousse grinned evilly as Danny took a seat in the back row. "Look who decided to join us in the house of learning today, class: our own resident freak and his tomboy girlfriend! I wonder, Mr. Fenton, where you have been these past few days: you have more than a few missed assignments to hand in to me. I trust you have not been lazy in your absence, hmm?"
Danny was at a loss for words. He had neither received nor heard any word from any of his teachers concerning schoolwork that he had to make up. It was obvious that Barousse had deliberately kept such knowledge from him in order to facilitate a failing grade in her class, and his ears turned pink with humiliation as he realized that he'd been backed into a corner.
"Of course you have," Barousse snorted contemptuously, breaking the uncomfortable silence amidst a chorus of snickers. "But then, what else can be expected from such a poor student?"
Danny gritted his teeth and bit back the repertoire of stinging retorts that sizzled on his tongue as Barousse made her way down the row of desks. "Surely Mr. Fenton doesn't expect to be given special treatment for his supposed acts of heroism, does he? Has he finally realized that he cannot win against the Society's words of wisdom? Do not be deceived by his lies, my dear students; why, with enough…persuasion…I'm sure that each and every one of you will eventually come to embrace the glorious Truth and see that thing sitting over therefor what he really is. No doubt the heroic Society of Light would welcome strong young men and women such as you into their ranks to help carry on their noble work." Barousse's eyes flashed, and her tone turned threatening as she hissed, "And if any of you are among the foolish and misguided people who dare to speak against the word of the Light...Then God help you. God help every last one of you."
"You're crazy," Danny said flatly, reviled at the dreamy, idealistic expression that suffused Barousse's face. The old woman actually believed what she was saying.
"Not as crazy as you," Barousse spat back. "Sullying these ancient walls with your foul genetics and unholy 'gifts'. You really are a most unnatural creature, Mr. Fenton, an abomination with no proper place in an orderly society. See me after class so we can discuss your punishment."
"Punishment? What'd I do?"
"Nothing," Barousse said sweetly, dropping her voice so that only he could hear her. "I just despise you, that's all. Now open your textbook, you ugly little ghost-freak, and turn to page ninety-five."
Danny's cheeks burned with embarrassment, and his pencil threatened to snap in two as his grip tightened upon it. One way or another, he vowed, he and Barousse would have a reckoning when this was over…
Meanwhile…
Inside the unmarked, unassuming minivan parked some distance away from the Society's secret base, Agent Thomas Brody resisted the urge to knead his aching back as he sat in the uncomfortable swivel chair from which he monitored the surveillance equipment arrayed before him. A pair of well-worn and tattered earphones made Brody's balding head itch, and he scratched his scalp idly as he turned slowly in his seat.
The bug that had been planted within the Society of Light's headquarters was functioning well, and yet it seemed that Skryme had suddenly cut off all contact with his puppet underlings. Not a whisper had been picked up by the listening device that Danny had planted deep in the bowels of the Society's inner sanctum, and Brody ground his teeth with frustration at how impeccably bad the timing of this sudden lack of communication seemed to be. He was so nerve-wracked after hours sitting on his ass in a cramped, dark little vehicle that he was almost itching to shoot something.
Granted, this probably wouldn't have solved any of Brody's problems, but the satisfaction of destroying something always made him feel a little better.
If the stupid bug doesn't pick up something soon, I'm gonna call it quits for today and head over to McDonald's, and screw whatever that quack physician says about it, Brody promised himself. I need real food, not that protein shake bullshit that he's had me on lately…
Brody was just about to slam his earphones down in frustration when the console at which he sat gave a small, telltale beep.
Brody would have known the sound anywhere. The bug had picked up something.
Finally! He thought exuberantly, punching his fist into the air. Now let's see what we've got…
"Good evening, my friends,"the arrogant, nasally tone of Andrew Skryme sent shivers of rage down Brody's spine as he continued to listen, "Long live the Light!"
"Amen!"half a dozen voices responded. "Glory to the Truth! Hail to the Leader!"
He's got you guys eating right out of his hand, Brody thought spitefully. Idiots.
"How goes the Glorious Mission?" Skryme asked.
"Our campaign against the ghost child goes well," someone responded. "We have already begun to rally the community against him; we sent an anonymous article to the paper this morning to facilitate his eventual banishment from the human world. The public has begun to rally to us; more are coming to answer the Call."
"And what of the traitor Brody?" Skryme asked. "I am told he continues to be a thorn in our side."
"Brody continues to aid the ghost child in his attempts to undo our Holy Crusade," the speaker replied. "The attempt to remove him was…unsuccessful, as you know. The botched attempt to squeeze Brody for information concerning the Dark One seems to have only fueled his desire to see our downfall."
So Skryme was behind it! Brody thought furiously. I knew it! That sonofabitch tried to kill me off!
"What of our operative inside the school?"
"Barousse continues to fulfill her mission admirably. She has assured me that she will make the Dark One's life most unpleasant within the walls of Casper High."
"Our next operation goes according to plan, I take it?"
"Yes, sir. We have begun to plan a second attack on the ghost child's domicile. The first attempt, though it undoubtedly caused significant damage, failed to see its objective through. This time, we will raze that foul place to the ground and purge its foulness in the flames of glory," the man continued, his tone reverent. "Our forces are already observing the Fentons' home; we will strike in the dead of night, as we did last time."
Not if I have anything to say about it, Brody vowed.
"Make sure Brody isn't around to interfere," Skryme hissed, as though reading the agent's minds. "If not for him, FentonWorks would be ashes by now! Move in tonight, and leave not a single brick standing! If anyone tries to stop you, kill them!"
"But is it wise to-"
"All things are expendable in this great crusade," Skryme snapped brusquely. "Besides, the deaths of those who Fenton professes to 'love' will only hasten his departure into the Ghost Zone, where he belongs. Take as many men and weapons as you need."
"It will be done, leader," Skryme's subordinate vowed. "Fenton will know the Light's justice!"
And you'll know mine, Brody added silently. When you bastards show up at Fenton's doorstep…We will be ready…
A/N: OOH, I sense the endgame approaching! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, now things are starting to get REALLY good! I predict that only four or five chapters of this story remain, at most (though this could change), so rest assured, Skryme AND Barousse will BOTH get their comeuppance soon enough! ^^ And PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! I want to hear what YOU have to say, so don't be shy! Let me know what YOU think I could do to make this story better; I always enjoy hearing feedback from my readers! ^^
Your humble servant,
-Quill N. Inque