Author's Note

Okay, I'm not as happy with this chapter as with the previous one. I had a headache while writing it, so you'll see that sometimes my thoughts jump around a little. I don't have time to really go back an edit it since Nano demands that I keep writing. I'll probably go back and edit everything when Nano is done.

Anyway, hope you enjoy! And I would love to hear any comments you have on the story!

Chapter Eight
Owed Them That Much

One need not be a chamber to be haunted;

One need not be a house;

The brain has corridors surpassing

Material place.

Emily Dickinson

What better prison is there than one's own mind?

Was insanity what happens when your mind throws away the key? When you can no longer access the parts of your brain that allows for reason, logic, and common sense? When it finally decides to ignore what the world impressed upon it and collapses within itself? Or, was it when it finally realizes there were things in this world that were never meant to be seen, and tried too late to wipe away what it now knows?

His mirror was shattering. He kept his eyes closed, terrified of seeing the world around him, seeing his insanity splashed against walls and ceiling. But he wasn't really insane. He veil had been pushed back from his gaze, the truth had been revealed to him. Now he wondered if he'd rather not be back in the ignorance that he had been so unhappy within. Was it worth it, now? His hands shook, his shoulders hunched, his teeth chewed on his lower lip.

Maybe insanity wasn't when one's mind panicked in the face of truth. Maybe it was what happened when it saw the truth and accepted it. The truth was what bred the insanity. Those who were insane were the sanest ones of all.

Ashes to Ashes

"Danny? Danny!"

Someone was slapping his face. His eyes snapped open, blinking in the bright light above him. Several people were peering down at him, regarding him curiously. He could hear their whispers, but couldn't make out exactly what was being said. Sam and Tucker were the first ones he really focused on, as they were hovering almost directly above him, and he suspected that it had been Sam that had been slapping him—

Why was he on the floor?

Slowly, he sat up. A wave of pain slammed into his head and he raised a hand to clutch his temple, as though attempting to steady himself. He could feel a throbbing bump at the base of his skull. Had he fallen? What happened? He blinked, trying to remember. He remembered getting tossed in the shower, running from Dash—

"Danny, what happened to your arm!"

Danny blinked and glanced at his wrist, staring at the mess of blood that had dried against his skin, several long jagged slashes still attempting to coagulate.

Oh. Oh.

Danny's head shot up, darting around the hallway. That's right. He'd encountered his very first demon. Azazel. King of Spirits. But he hadn't killed him, he'd merely talked to him – and slashed his arm to smithereens. He wanted to throw up, the world a spinning in a mosaic of color. He groaned and leaned back against something cold and solid. He still couldn't remember how he had ended up on the floor. He could see the demon laughing, disappearing in a cloud of black dust. He closed his eyes, fighting back against the nausea, trying to recall the events with more clarity.

"Are you all right?"

Sam's voice. He wanted to bite scathingly that he most definitely was not all right, but he was afraid to open his mouth.

"Manson, Foley, Take Fenton up to the infirmary."

That sounded like Tetslaff. Had the entire class come out to see him? He wondered why then he didn't hear any of their jeering or laughing, but maybe being coated in blood killed the mood. He felt his friends grip him under the arm.

"Ready?" Tucker asked.

Danny nodded, and they hoisted him to his feet. He swayed, horribly dizzy, leaning on them for support. He considered the possibility that Dash had snuck behind him, thwacking him on the head before faking innocence and getting Tetslaff. He cracked his eye open, searching for the football player. Dash didn't look smug; in fact he was staring at him with the same curious expression as the rest of his peers. So maybe he hadn't done it. He was dimly aware that Tucker and Sam were leading him toward the nurse's office. He could feel Sam's hand shaking as it held his elbow. He glanced at her, finding her face pale and worried. She also seemed afraid to take her eyes off of him for a second.

They didn't say anything until they gone out of earshot of the rest of the class. "She told you not to get caught alone," Tucker said, his voice shaking. "I-I didn't realize until you'd already bolted out of the locker-room. I tried to run after you but Dash—"

"S'okay," Danny grunted, gritting his teeth.

"It's not!" Sam bit her lip. "I-I thought—When we saw you—" She trailed off with a shudder. "You might've—"

"You really scared us," Tucker said. His best friend was avoiding his gaze, staring at the floor. "When you didn't come back," he swallowed. "And then we all heard this laughter…"

"You heard him?" Danny's eyes widened. "That's why you all came out?"

"Well, then I pretty much shouted your name and bolted for the door," Tucker said sheepishly. "Everyone just followed me out and then we saw you crumple to the floor."

"There was this horribly smack as your head hit the ground."

Danny blinked, furrowing his brow. "But did you see why I fell?"

"No… wait, you don't know?"

Danny shook his head, and then regretted it. His headache seemed to really object to that idea and was hammering away inside his skull. Tucker pushed open the door to the infirmary in front of him, something that surprised Danny. He usually couldn't even walk past the place without a bag over his head, much less walk inside. He was about to point that out when the nurse swooped over them.

He could never remember her name. She was just the pretty blonde lady. With questionable doctoring skills, but a pleasant bedside manner.

"What on earth happened?" she asked, directing them to one of the beds.

There was no way to lie. There was a chance that entire school already knew that he'd been found, bloody, in a hallway seconds after malevolent laughter. He grimaced, when Jazz heard—

"W-we found him in the hallway," Sam began nervously. She obviously had no idea what to say either.

Danny held up a hand, stopping her. His face had turned a sickly green. The nurse jumped up and handed him the garbage can not a second too late. He emptied the contents of his stomach, shuddering as his retching made his head pound. He hadn't eaten very much, resulting in a large amount of bile. The smell itself almost made him puke again, but he didn't – much to his relief. He shut his eyes, putting the can back onto the floor.

"Danny, open your eyes," the nurse said. "I need you to open your eyes."

With a great deal of reluctance, he opened them. She nodded and took his face in her hand, the other holding a flashlight as she waved it across his eyes. After a moment she put it away, and Danny finally noticed her nametag. Daisy.

"You look like you have a small concussion," she frowned. "Did that boy beat you up again, Danny?"

"He was in class with us," Tucker said. Danny could tell that both Sam and him were very eager to know what exactly had happened as well, though they weren't asking. They knew that he couldn't tell Nurse Daisy exactly what had happened. And try as he might to remember, Danny still had no idea how he had ended up on the floor.

"Everything's kinda a blur," he said, putting his head in his hands, pressing his palms against his eyelids. He had to be cautious, he couldn't tell the Daisy everything. She'd lock him in a loony bin for certain, even if everyone else had heard the laughter.

"What are you?"

Danny's eyes snapped open. The demon said that to him right before he disappeared. He could see him turning away in a cloud of black smoke, see shape starting to return to the hallway. He'd stood there, staring after him, trying to work out what he'd meant, trying not to panic. He could see himself turning to head back to the gym; he could remember his knees shaking. Had he slipped on the floor—?

Slowly, gradually, like a painter taking a brush to canvas, the memory came into life before his eyes. He had not been pushed or hit by someone. The hallway had been becoming bright and warm, the lights flickering back into existence. He had taken a step forward when he had, quite simply, fainted from exhaustion.

After the panic of waking up on the floor, it was almost a letdown to know that he'd only blacked out. Of course, after that ordeal, he was surprised he wasn't in a comma or a grave…

"I think I just fainted," Danny told her. "I should be all right soon."

Nurse Daisy stared at him. "And your arm?"

"I must've scratched it when I fell, or something."

"Or something."

Danny didn't reply to that and she sighed. "Fine, don't tell me." She crossed to the sink and wetted a paper towel. "The bullying at this school is some of the worse I have ever seen." She handed it to him to start cleaning his arm. "You don't have to tell me, but I want you to tell someone. Is there anyone on the faculty that you'd be willing to talk to? Maybe your advisor Ms. Webb or—"

"Worth." Danny swallowed. "I'd talk to Worth."

Ashes to Ashes

"Can I have a moment, with my friends?"

Nurse Daisy regarded him for a moment before nodding. She had just finished bandaging his wrist with gauze.

"You have until I return with Mr. Worth."

Danny nodded and waited until she had left to turn to Sam and Tucker. They had both been remarkably silent for the last few minutes, though he knew that they had to have millions of questions for him. But, first and foremost, he needed to say something to them. Something important.

"I'm sorry." He looked down at his feet. "I shouldn't of—"

Two pairs of shaking arms wrapped themselves around him, squeezing him tight. "Don't you ever disobey what a ghost tells you again," Sam said very seriously.

"Especially if Miss Invisible."

They all laughed, and they released their bone-crushing grip from him. He could still see the worry in their faces; see how close they had come to thinking they had lost him. He didn't want to admit it, but he liked knowing how important he was to them. How much they'd miss him if he had gone. But he couldn't dwell on that now. He didn't have a lot of time – the math wing wasn't very far from the nurses – so he immediately launched into his retelling.

"It wasn't a ghost."

"What?"

"Wait, listen, we heard it Danny. We heard its laughter."

Danny was confused for a moment, staring at Tucker dumbfounded. Why was that such big news? Surely the identity had higher priority. Then he remembered something else the demon had mentioned. "You guys… never actually felt the cold spots, did you?" His heart was sinking.

"Well," Tucker scratched his neck. "I thought I might've felt it at one point…"

Though his heart was heavy, his gut was churning with unpleasantness, he couldn't help but smile. "You guys believed me, even though you couldn't sense it yourself?"

"Of course, Danny," Sam said as though this should've been obvious. "When it comes to things regarding the paranormal I go to you and your family for information. When it comes to technology, I go to Tucker." She paused, and then continued a little more hesitant. "What did you mean, it wasn't a ghost?"

"His name was Azazel." He swallowed. "King of Spirits."

Tucker seemed to choke on his spit. After a moment, during which he coughed loudly, "Y-you mean—"

"Yeah. He was a demon, not a ghost. Ruler over ghosts, I should say." Danny paused a moment, glancing down at his bandaged arm. "There's something else too…"

"He stigmatized you, didn't he?" Danny looked up at Sam. She had her hand over her mouth, her face a pasty ash. "H-he did that to your arm?"

"Yeah. Hey," he added when her look of horror only worsened. "It could've been worse. He could've killed me."

"Wait, why didn't he?" Tucker asked. When they both stared at him he shrugged. "I mean, I thought that whatever was in the school would kill us if we got caught by it. He should've just killed you, so how did you live?"

This was the part that he had been dreading. The part that he hadn't wanted to tell them about, but knew he had to. It was the most important part, the thing that was making his gut clench and his heart thud.

"He knew my name," he said in a quiet voice. "H-he knew of everything concerning his spirits."

"What do you—"

"The ectoplasm likes me," Danny said, barely whispering now. "I think he didn't kill me, because his spirits didn't want me dead."

What are you?

"He—" Danny was cut off as the door opened, revealing Daisy and a rather puzzled Mr. Worth. The man took in Danny sitting on top of the sickbed, his friends crowded around him, and shot a questioning look toward Daisy. Sam looked ready to leap up and slam the door in their faces, the frustration practically radiating off her. She clenched her fist and grabbed Tucker by the arm. "We'll finish this discussion later," she said through gritted teeth. But Danny had seen the fear in her eyes. She was just as worried as him, knew whatever link he had with ectoplasm was troublesome. She knew that there was something deeper at work here.

And it was going to haunt them until they knew what it was. And possibly after.

She dragged a protesting Tucker out the door, nodded curtly to Daisy and Mr. Worth before disappearing down the hall. He wondered idly if they'd skip the rest of P.E. or if the class had already finished. And then he allowed his gaze to meet Mr. Worth.

"Daisy said something about bullying—?" he questioned slowly. To Danny's annoyance, she didn't leave the room to allow them to talk. In fact, she looked ready to sit in on the discussion. She didn't really understand the whole, talk to a different faculty member, thing did she? Danny held up his bandaged arm, a wry smile curling about his lips.

"The footprints found me."

Danny watched as Worth's grey eyes widened. He understood. That's why Danny had asked for him. He turned to Daisy and asked, "Would you mind giving us a moment?"

Daisy gave him a disappointed sigh before nodding. "It's about time for my lunch break anyway. Lock the door when you leave."

And they were alone.

Worth crossed over to him, a mixture of emotions flitting across his face before returning to his characteristic expression of mild interest. As though everything was a game and he just needed to learn how to play.

"Who else knows?" he asked dropping his tone – probably in case Daisy had opted to press her ear against the door.

"Just my friends – the two that were in here with me," Danny said.

"I see." Mr. Worth stroked his blonde beard, regarding Danny thoughtfully. "Perhaps you best start at the beginning."

And so Danny did. He told him about getting the book from Miss Invisible, and how she had told him not to get caught in the school alone. As he approached the attack his speech grew faster. He explained how he had run out of the locker – kindly editing the reasons why – and ended up alone in a corridor. How the temperature had dropped and the way he felt someone chasing him as he tried to run back to the gym. How the being had grabbed him and taken him into a black void. When he reached the part about receiving the Diabolical Stigma however, he paused.

He had already told him so much more than his parents, and that fact made him guilty. It should be his mother that he was telling this all too, but—what if she forbade him from ever coming to school again? What if she and dad laid siege to the hallways and… Danny took a calming breath. Yes, that was why he was telling Worth, because he wasn't controlled by his emotions and wouldn't start blasting every shadow in sight.

"It gave me this," Danny said holding up his arm. He bit his lip and Mr. Worth surveyed him through square spectacles.

"You saw him."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Danny nodded, the image of the demon rising uncalled to his mind. As terrifying and grotesque he had been, there had been a strange elegance to his design. Entrancing, almost. Danny shuddered and cast his gaze to the floor. Mr. Worth was silent for a few moments.

"He was a demon, then."

"Yup."

"Did he introduce himself?"

"Azazel." Danny looked up. "King of Spirits."

Worth whistled. "That is one big fish." He chuckled lightly to himself for a moment before growing sober. He was looking thoughtful again, and somewhat confused. "He let you live?"

"Y-yeah."

"Why?"

Danny fidgeted. He almost wished that someone would barge in and cut him off again, but no one did. He would have to say it this time. "He knew my name," he began slowly. It was a little easier to get the words out this time, a little less nerve-wracking. "He told me that the ectoplasm liked me."

"It liked you?"

"Yeah, but that's not all." Danny took in a great shuddering breath. "He looked into my eyes, and he said—he asked, what are you?" Danny bit his lip, wringing his hands together. "W-what did he mean? I-I'm not—am I-I—" He couldn't even say it, mostly because he wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. After a short pause he asked, "I'm human, right?"

Mr. Worth laughed, the sound warm and throaty. It calmed Danny down, made him look up and smile as the teacher patted his back. "Yes Danny. Unless you suddenly start floating, I think your safe there."

"Oh, good." Danny fidgeted with the edge of his bandage. "But what did he mean? Why did he say that?"

"I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask that, Danny," Mr. Worth said getting to his feet. "I feel honored that you have chosen me to confide in, but I'm not an expert at this stuff."

"But you know about the Diabolical Stigma, about demons and ectoplasm," Danny protested. "You were the one who noticed that there were dents in the lockers!"

"I do and I did, but there was someone else who noticed first, without the clues." He leaned forward upon his cane. "You know to whom I'm referring, correct?"

Danny hunched his shoulders. "I can't tell them."

"And why not?"

"They'd put the school on lock-down or something."

"Maybe that's for the best."

"But—" Danny didn't understand. How could that be good? Sure he no longer thought that they were shooting at thin air, but the rest of the school did. Just because he had given up on becoming popular, didn't mean he had to become an outcast! Then again everyone would probably be very happy to get out school—but he'd forever be a freak! No one would ever be able to forget it!

Mr. Worth bent down, his knees popping, as he came to meet Danny's dejected eye-level. "They might be the only ones who can answer Azazel's question," he said softly. "According to my limited knowledge of the subject, demons like him have no qualms about killing those they come across. The next time someone gets caught alone, I don't think they're going to live to tell the tale."

"I did…"

Mr. Worth shook his head. "There's only one of you. I don't think even your sister would escape if she ran into him in that corridor."

"But why?" The question burned within him, the horrible desire to know. "Why me? What makes me so special? I'm average. I didn't even believe in them until a few days ago?"

"I don't know. And even if I did, I can't answer that for you. It's something that you have to discover for yourself." He returned to his full height, striding toward the door. "Oh, and lets reschedule our meeting for today, shall we? How about Monday during lunch?"

Danny blinked, thrown off for a moment. "Um, sure." He paused then, "W-why can't you just tell them that there's something in the school?" he asked after him. His last ditch pathetic attempt.

Mr. Worth turned and smiled. "Don't you think they deserve to hear it from you? You owe them that much."

Ashes to Ashes

"Jack? That blonde weatherman says there's supposed to be a thunderstorm for the next few days, make sure you don't leave any inventions outside!"

Danny hovered at the bottom of the stairs, having a furious war with himself. Before him, his mother had taken the couch, watching the news while she re-calibrated what he assumed to be the detection device she had mentioned him days ago. His friends had offered to join him for the discussion but he decided that he needed to do this alone. Mr. Worth was right, he did owe them that much. He owed them a lot, and his mother especially deserved to know that she had been right. What was that phrase?

Mother knows best.

And she definitely did. And she deserved to hear him say it, especially after everything that had happened. He had been putting it off until now though – almost nine. He'd hidden at Tucker's house, explained to them the rest of what the demon had said, and his conversation with Mr. Worth. They were both just as worried as him about the implications. About what Azazel could mean by asking that question, about why the ectoplasm liked Danny. And, they had both urged him to tell his parents.

"Worth is right," Sam had said, folding her arms. "You should tell them. What if it's me or Tucker next time? And I'm pretty sure the ectoplasm doesn't like us."

"Yeah, dude. Hey, we can come with you if want us to. I mean, we are part of this too now."

"Thanks Tuck, but I have to do this myself. I really do owe them that much."

And so here he stood, trying to form the words in his mind. He'd been doing that for the last hour, having darted up there the instant he came home. And, despite the warmth of the September afternoon, had donned a long-sleeve shirt. He didn't want to have to start the conversation with an explanation of what had happened to his arm. Preferably, it would be best if they never knew – even though they would. They would be able to tell.

Because Danny could see them.

He hadn't really noticed it until he'd gotten out of school. Then he had seen them. He wasn't even sure what they were. All he knew was there were black particles swirling through the air. It was similar to what he had seen in the hallway, except in vastly smaller numbers, as though he had just become able to see the dust in finer detail. But then there were other things. He only caught glimpses of those, because as soon as something large caught the corner of his eye, it disappeared, as though sensing his gaze. Needleless to say, he'd been highly paranoid while walking to Tucker's house.

And his room was swarming with them. The smaller ones anyway. After staring at them for about an hour, he'd come to discover they weren't just dust either. They were actual creatures, small with little tails and vivid green eyes. They'd come and hover above his palm, staring at him as he stared back at them. It was strange, but also incredibly fascinating. After flipping through his book, he had learned that it wasn't ectoplasm, but coal tar, a type of low-level demon that attached itself to the dust in the air. They liked to inhabit dark dank places, but also liked places with high levels of ectoplasm. Maybe that was why he kept seeing them float past his face.

"Sweetie? What is it?"

He looked up to see his mother watching him, a commercial on the screen before her. So he'd stood long enough to get noticed. He didn't answer for a moment, merely meeting her gaze with his own. Could she see them too? He noticed that there weren't any in the living room; maybe she had invented some kind of repellent for them? He wouldn't have put it past her. But, what did you say, when you finally realized that ghosts were real? How did you lead into a discussion about a demon residing within your school? All the possible ways he could've started this conversation vanished from his head – so much for the hours mulling over them.

"I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" His mother's tone was curious. She probably thought it had something to do with school, didn't even consider that something worse would be happening. His arm was aching again – he needed another dose of Advil – and he rubbed it subconsciously.

"I—"

"Maddie! Come here!"

He never thought he be so relieved to hear his father's voice intrude upon his sentence.

"Hold that thought, sweetie. What is it Jack, I'm talking to Danny." His mother crossed to peak into the kitchen, Danny following after her. On the table sat a jar of ectoplasm and his eyes immediately glued themselves too it, regarding it cautiously. It was still the same as it always had been, vibrant green and strangely luminescent. Although, he could see some finer details now. It seemed to be quivering, as though it were alive. And, as he inspected it closer, he could see that there was a flow to the material as though liquid were bound behind a plastic film, constantly churning and swirling.

His father was scooping some of the goo out onto a petri dish, but seemed to be having a great deal of trouble. "Can you hold this?" he asked, handing her the dish. His mother sighed but held it for him while he dribbled some into it.

"So, Danny, what were you saying?" Maddie turned to him with a smile.

Danny bit his lip, unsure if he wanted to proceed with his father being present. Then again, maybe it was better this way. He deserved to know it to. Then there was nothing left, the time had come. Best be as frank as possible, then. He took a deep breath.

"There's a demon in my school."

The jar of ectoplasm fell to the floor with a crash, splattering them all in vivid green slime, his parents both staring at him completely dumbfounded. Danny flinched as the material splashed him, a panic rising in his throat as he waited for it to do something. After a moment he wiped some off his eye, relieved that it wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. It was hard to believe that it was sentiment, or maybe this was just a refined version? It didn't matter though; his parents were still gaping wordlessly at him.

In a strained voice that didn't sound like her, "How do you know?"

"I've met him," Danny grimaced.

"Y-you've—" Maddie couldn't even say the words, her eyes were popping. His father didn't have that grin on his face for once, possessing a seriousness that was so unlike him.

"Danny, now I know you don't believe," he said, "but we do. I don't want to hear you disrespect that."

He had expected that they might not believe him. He met his mother's gaze, his chest aching as he confessed to her. "We lied to you, that day you burst in. I knew there was a ghost behind me." Kinda hard not to, what with her whispering in his ear and whatnot. "We figured out you were right when we realized the lockers had dents. When I felt the temperature change." His throat felt thick and he paused.

"You knew?" He hated the hurt in her voice. And loved the pride.

"I didn't want to tell you yet. I wanted to tell you when it would mean the most. When I could really show you that I've come to accept their existence." Understatement of the century.

Jack opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He probably could understand a little better than his mother when it came to a man's pride. Danny could see that he was beginning to realize that his son wasn't making fun of them. Even though they were all covered in green goo, he didn't remark about how pointless this all was.

"But, you wouldn't be—" His mother frowned. He cringed before she could finish her sentence, knowing what was coming. "If you'd really met one he wouldn't have just let you go.

He knew that it had been coming, but he hadn't wanted it to. He hadn't wanted to show them, but it seemed that he really had no choice. And they deserved it, they were the only ones who could help him. He swallowed and said in a quiet voice that non-the-less filled the silent kitchen, "He didn't."

"What do you—"

Danny rolled up his arm, displaying his bandaged arm to them. His mother gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. Danny smiled sadly at the pair of them, wishing that they could've found out he believed under better circumstances, wishing that instead of horror on their faces there was joy and celebration. He had wanted to drop some remark about ghosts and surprise them both, before acting as though he'd always believed. Cocky, he knew, but it would've been better than this. Better than them finding out because he'd been attacked.

"He left me with a gift, and a curse."