Vlad Masters opened the door to an empty abyss beyond. Howling wind stung his face, freezing flecks of rain assaulting his eyes. He squinted, scanned his porch, and found nothing except the quiet hum of his porch lamp and the bumbling, wet, confused moths that assaulted the light. He looked past his porch, but the rest of the world had been swallowed in black. Cold, consuming darkness met his vision, and only the harsh grind of sleet betrayed the existence of anything beyond his mansion.
"Hello?"
Thunder. Rain. Nothing.
Vlad sighed and reached to close the door to the coldness. It had only taken a few seconds for the biting cold to sweep through his house. It swirled into the entryway, chilling the exposed skin of Vlad Master's legs. He pulled the robes tighter to his body, a different, supernatural chill passing through him just before he shut the door.
"Wait! Wait please, I'm here."
The sonorous voice seemed to pass straight through Vlad. Yeah, that chill. The door slid from his grip, swinging back open, this time revealing a pale, quivering ghost. Two green pupils stared back, the boy's hair iced over by the half-frozen sleet.
"Daniel?" Vlad glanced behind the boy, scanning the distance to be safe. "What are you doing here?"
The boy passed his hand through his hair. Well, almost, as his fingers snagged on the frozen tips. He seemed to startle at the fact, tugging once or twice more before giving up and lowering his hand.
"I…Could I maybe stay here? For just a little bit."
Suspicion sparked bright in the older man's eyes, and he debated for a moment whether or not to shut the door in the boy's face. "Why?"
Danny's eyes darted around, his hand reaching for his hair again. "Something happened. I can't go back. Please—I just—just need to sort a few things out."
His voice sounded so much colder than Vlad had ever heard it. Not by his tone, but by the ghostly echo in it. The boy's composure seemed to slowly crumble, insanity building in his eyes, the quiver in his body shaking him like a leaf. Icy sleet dripped down his face, and he blinked away a few drops that slid into his eyes.
Pathetic. The word fit the boy so well right now. Vlad had seen his fair share of pathetic people. He once had to chase away a lost 'orphan' boy who'd showed up at his door. The boy was ragged and weary, toting a sob-story about dead parents and abusive relatives. It was an easy ruse to see through, and it took nothing more than releasing the guard dogs to flush out the conman father who'd been watching from the bushes. Vlad had been inwardly disgusted with the whole set up, all for a few pennies out of his wallet, but he sent them away with no involvement from the authorities.
In fact, Vlad prided himself on his ability to distrust people. He learned it early on, and only cultivated it more after his rise to billionaire status. He greeted every client, every up-and-coming businessman, and every party guest with the assumption that they wanted to cheat him out of his money. Lies, ruses, fake names, fake causes, he'd seen it all. But never in his forty years had he seen anything quite like the wretch in front of him, and he knew, with every fiber of his being, that Danny wasn't faking it.
"Just get out of the rain…" the man finally muttered, freeing himself from his thoughts, and stepped away from the doorway.
Danny didn't respond right away. His eyes simply widened, and he glanced up at the sky. "It's raining?"
"Yes."
The boy raised a gloveless hand to the clouds, and stood, silent. "So it is…"
Vlad briefly wondered where the glove had gone, but the icy chill that flushed through his house changed his mind. "It is absolutely freezing. Inside, now."
Cautiously, Danny followed the order, leaving Vlad free to finally shut the door.
"There's a guest bed down that hall. If you need somewhere to lie I would prefer you keep your muddy self away from my couches." Vlad pointed to the right, but Danny wandered slowly toward the living room, stopping just a few feet in front of Vlad. "And if I catch you so much as thinking about going in my lab, I'll throw you back out in the rain." Slush dripped from the boy's hair, and Vlad added as an irritated afterthought. "The ghost portal especially. You'd short circuit it."
Danny didn't move, but his head turned to face Vlad, a distant kind of interest sparked in his eyes. "Ghost?" he muttered.
"Yes. Ghost portal. That's what I said."
"Is there a ghost here?"
"Excluding the two of us, no."
"Oh," the interest faded from his face. Instead a distant look, verging on haunting, overtook his eyes. He stood, dripping, unmoving.
"Daniel," the boy's head bobbed up at the sound of his name, "why are you here?" The exasperation stuck out firmly in Vlad's voice. He'd been comfortably wrapped under two layers of blankets with a newly-bathed Maddie at his side, watching some old, forgotten movie from the 60's. Now his entryway was spattered with slush and mud, his arch nemesis frozen by the living room.
"Something happened. I can't go home." Danny refocused on the living room, suddenly interested in the paused movie on Vlad's theater-sized screen.
"So I've heard. What happened?"
Danny's eyes swung around to face Vlad, confused and unfocused. "I can't go home," he repeated, like Vlad hadn't heard the first time.
"I understand that! Why can't you go home?"
Nothing but a blank stare in response.
"Daniel, I'm a busy man with better things to do than house runaways. I have every intention of kicking you out unless you give me a reason not to!"
"…They'd never let me back in." Danny muttered quietly. "I'm a ghost. They hate ghosts."
Snide comments failed him. The bitter dislike that had been in his throat dissipated with the ripples of shock that coursed through his body. He didn't care much for sympathizing with most people, but he couldn't deny how quickly his thoughts had put him in Daniel's position. It could have been him just as easily, exposed for a ghost by the woman he loved. Maybe Maddie didn't reciprocate his affection; maybe she only tolerated his existence, but the day she came to hate him, Vlad was sure he'd never quite recover.
Standing on the carpet, glowing and cold and despondent, the boy could easily be swapped for him. His eyes even seemed to take on a redder twinge in the dim lamplight, the hair darker and the glow brighter, like Vlad's more powerful aura. It was hard not to see the similarity.
Vlad shook the thought out of his head, working desperately to recall every childish prank he'd suffered under the boy. No, he couldn't go feeling sorry for him, not with the danger he presented. Vlad almost changed his mind, sent the boy right back out into the rain, but the look in Danny's eyes had changed so drastically, he almost couldn't connect his hatred of the Fenton boy with the dripping wretch before him. Vlad swallowed his pride and grabbed Danny by the arm.
"Follow me. I won't have you making any more of a mess out here. Count yourself lucky I don't have anyone important coming until nex—"
"Where are we going?" the boy interrupted.
Vlad stopped, perplexed, and looked back at his charge. "The guest room. If you must stay, you're sleeping in th—"
But the boy cut him off once again, yanking his arm from the man's grasp. He shook his head, letting the melted slush fall in puddles on the floor. "No."
"Why?" Vlad asked through gritted teeth.
"…I don't want to sleep."
"Then wait in the room. What do you want me to tell you?" His patience had worn thin.
The boy backpedaled slightly, tripping clumsily on his feet. Somehow he stayed standing, but his eyes wandered over the extravagant hall, seemingly lost.
"Where's the ghost?" he asked.
Vlad clamped his hand down on Danny's arm. "What. Ghost?"
"You said…ghost."
"Ghost portal, Danny."
"Yeah…that."
"I'm not telling you," the older man seethed, resuming his march to the guest room. Danny limply followed.
The boy's wayward steps led him to the room, decked in gold and green that stretched to the high-set ceiling. In the dark, it only showed as dark glimmers of two brown shades. Danny wandered through the room, free of the older man's grasp, and settled down on the bed before him. His hand trailed over the silky bedcover, testing its cushion. He stayed in his ghost form.
"Will you stay in here?" Vlad asked.
"…Yes," Danny responded. His distant gaze trailed over the dark walls too, two glowing lights in the cavernous room. His faint glow threw shadows on the wall, the bedposts crawling up the ceiling, the furniture flickering back and forth in a solemn, rhythmic dance. Vlad's hand trailed to the light switch beside him.
"Should I turn the lights on?" he asked, suddenly unsettled by the creeping shadows.
"No. I'm fine like this." And his eyes lost their little spark of interest. They seemed well-acclimated to the dark, darting from corner to corner as if inspecting the walls. Vlad offered a weak sigh and shut the door behind him as he left the room.
Vlad traced his steps back to the living room, consciously ignoring the wet boot stains that ran the length of his carpet. The hallway stretched away, periodic lights in the ceiling throwing shadows over his face. Paintings, vases, and occasional doors watched him from either side as he stalked back to his couch. The ceiling itself wasn't particularly high, and its curved shape robbed it of space at the corners, but it felt especially oppressive with the dark thoughts looming in Vlad's mind. He felt cheated out of a relaxing night and more than a little bothered with the weird glaze in Danny's eyes. He saw them every time he blinked, and it sent chills down his spine.
He paused just shy of the living room. Two, still-frame people stared at him from the giant television set, and he kept careful eye contact with them as he collapsed onto the couch, reclaiming the remote in his hand. Their eyes—their eyes looked fine, and Vlad hit play as his free hand patted wantonly at his cat. Maddie bristled under his touch, her eyes narrowed into disapproving slits, clearly agitated at having been brushed aside for someone else.
Vlad ran a hand over her silken fur. "Maddie…" he whispered. He reached behind her ear, scratching gently at her favorite spot, until the pudgy cat lapsed into contented purrs. The comforting noise didn't help, and Vlad's mind strayed back to the dark room just down the hall. The movie went on without him.
He passed a few minutes watching and rewatching parts of the movie, since he never seemed to catch them the first time. Maddie settled herself in Vlad's lap, not caring one way or the other what he did with the movie, and dozed as Vlad watched the same scene for the 4th time. His focus was shot, and half-way through the 4th rendition, Vlad pushed himself to his feet again. Maddie hissed in annoyance as the cushy lap was ripped away beneath her, but Vlad paid her little mind as he raced back to the kitchen. He grabbed the smooth plastic phone from its stand, lifted it to his ear, and dialed a number he knew just by the position of the buttons. A five second pause met him, drowned in the dull assault of sleet on the high-arching windows.
"H-hello?" a voice on the other side answered. As a quick afterthought, Vlad checked his wristwatch. 12:56. He winced a bit, suddenly realizing how much the time had escaped him.
He cleared his throat. "Y-yes. This is Vlad—Vlad Masters. I apologize for the late hour, but is Maddie home?"
The groggy voice was about to answer when a sharp click sounded through the phone. A third party had joined the conversation.
"This is she," came the curt reply. "Do you need something?"
"Yes, I…again, I apologize, but I was wondering if Danny was home?"
He braced himself, partially expecting the connection to be severed right then. They surely didn't want to discuss what happened, not if Danny had wandered through the icy storm just to find Vlad.
Somehow though, the voice that replied was, simply put, perplexed. "Our son Danny?"
"Y-yes," Vlad replied rather meekly.
"It's well past midnight. He's in bed."
"Oh…" Vlad deadpanned. "Well I'm sorry for the intrusion."
"It's no real problem," her bitter voice answered. "I just got in myself, so I'm awake as it is. However I am soaking wet and I wouldn't mind a few minutes to myself to warm up, if you can make this short."
"Oh, o-of course. It's just I—"
"What's so urgent, Vlad?"
Vlad stuttered momentarily, but he faintly heard Maddie's voice whisper away from the phone.
"Jack, check on Danny, would you?" Pounding footsteps met her request, and Vlad waited out the silence.
Quietly, so quietly he couldn't make out the words, Vlad heard Jack's voice through the other end of the phone. Maddie answered him.
"What do you—he's not?"
Light footsteps raced away from the phone, and Vlad was met with another empty silence. He counted the seconds until the pounding returned and the phone was quickly gathered up.
"Vlad, do you know where Danny is?" The annoyance had been wiped clean from her voice, panic settling nicely in its spot.
"I…I had thought you two…" They don't know. They have no idea who he is. "I'm sorry. I don't."
They don't know his secret.
"Jazz…Jazz!" More footsteps. "W-where's your brother?"
"What…?"
"Where's Danny?
"Oh…" Jazz's tired voice settled into pensive understanding. "Oh he told me…He actually left to go to Sam's house, left his…his history book there and he needs it to finish a project."
Vlad hadn't bothered to listen. He slammed the phone down on its base, humility burning in his cheeks. He had wanted to know how bad they took it, how reasonable they'd be about knowing the truth. For once he wanted to be the good guy, act like a medium between Danny and his parents, sort this mess out. The boy had lied to him. His secret wasn't out; his sister was spouting excuses left and right.
His feet pounded down the hall, his slippers soaking up the wet frost that had melted on the floor.
"Daniel!" The door slammed open under his push. Two glowing eyes glanced up at him, dimly interested in his intrusion. The boy hadn't moved an inch.
"Yes?"
The words died in Vlad's throat. The ghostly child looked near-translucent in the pale moonlight. Only the dim glow of his eyes, fixed on Vlad like two caged fireflies, fully gave away the boy's presence. The boy's form became more visceral as Vlad caught his attention, but the whitish glow around his suit burned with flickering intensity, waxing and waning as rhythmically as the his breathing. Actually, from where he stood, Vlad couldn't even be sure the boy was breathing. He was so still, so silent.
"Is there…something?" Danny's echoing voice whispered. Whatever had forced the boy into his state of shock hadn't yet worn off.
"I think you should go home," Vlad answered more quietly than he intended.
"Do I…" Danny blinked quickly, a wisp of chilled air riding his words. His final words trailed off, spoken as a half-hearted 'have to?' while his eyes darted back and forth, eating up the room.
"Ghost," he muttered, pushing himself off the soaked comforter like a child inching his way down the slide. "It's…" He stumbled in a clumsy pirouette, scanning the complete room. "Where?"
Vlad clenched his teeth, covering the distance between him and the wet child. "Stop it." He put a hand on Danny's shoulder, forcibly stopping the turning. "It's me, Danny. I'm the ghost."
The two flickering little lights lit up with joy, and the boy's mouth stretched into a smile. "Ghost? Y-you're…" The one ungloved hand wound its way around Vlad's arm, squeezing down on the satin sleeve. "But you don't…"
"I'm half-ghost. Like you Danny."
The little smile flickered and failed; Danny's hand went limp, barely maintaining its grip. "Oh yeah. Yeah, I knew that…"
"Daniel…" the older man started tentatively, keeping his eyes trained on his sleeve. Danny only squeezed it tighter. "Why can't you go home?"
Danny's head shook back and forth. "I can't." He dropped his hand from Vlad, leaving behind a wet stain. "My parents hate ghosts."
"True, and that doesn't apply to you. Your parents know…nothing about what happened tonight." Vlad tunneled his annoyance into the emphasis in his voice. "Whatever's happened tonight—they know nothing about it yet," Vlad answered cautiously.
"They will." Danny flopped back onto the bed, his eyes trailing to the ceiling. Their glow dimmed, like he'd phased out of consciousness, like they were soaking in the silence.
"Fine then…" Vlad breathed, backing up to the door. "Just…stay here."
"I will."
And Vlad closed the door.
…
The sound of the doorbell brought Vlad to his senses. He opened his eyes to the assault of sunlight and fumbled briefly with the remote that hung limply in his hands. His thumb found the power button with a little effort, and he shut off the television, which broadcast a poorly-produced, early morning infomercial. His mouth tasted dry and sour, his eyes felt crusty, and he could feel that his ponytail had slipped down to the left side of his neck.
"Dammit," Vlad cursed as he pushed himself to his unsteady feet. He had meant to keep watch all night (the Lifetime marathon would have kept him occupied anyway) so the mentally unstable minor in his guest room couldn't run away, but he realized with a touch of disappointment that he'd dozed off on the couch.
The bell rang again, and Vlad brushed over the folds in his robe, flushing slightly with embracement as he glanced down at the coral-pink satin.
"Coming! Coming…" he called, tucking a cowlick of hair behind his ear. Strands of silver hair riddled his forehead, but he didn't have the time to brush them neatly back into place. A quick glance to his grandfather clock confirmed the early hour, only 10 past 6, with the warm red glow of the sunrise breaking through the foyer windows.
He toyed with the locks on the door, unlatching them one by one, until he was able to wrest the giant door open. He found his guest with her finger poised over the doorbell, ready to ring it again.
"Vlad!" she squeaked, almost surprised. Two violet eyes looked up at him in surprise, ringed with dark splotches below her lids. Her hair was pressed flat to her head, and her rumpled blue hazmat mask hung loosely around her neck. Her whole suit was stained with dark green splotches.
"Maddie, how…how wonderful to see you," he answered, consciously brushing his hair back again. He gave up immediately, knowing that however bad he looked, she looked a hundred times worse. A few loose hairs were nothing to the straggly mess on her head, short chestnut hair frizzed by the humidity, locks plastered together by rusted ectoplasm
"I'm so…" she glanced around, "so sorry to bother you this early, but uh…h-have you seen Danny? Since last night? We—we can't find him, and…" Her panicked eyes roved over the entryway, like she might find him standing in the doorway.
Vlad set a steadying hand on her shoulder. "I think you should sit down," he answered, more horrified by her appearance with each passing moment. "Come inside, the couch is—I-I'll make tea."
Maddie only shook her head, continuing her hastily prepared monologue. "He was supposed to be at Sam's, but I called them and they didn't…I think something happened to him, and you…last night." She ran a worried hand through her hair. It snagged on the dried ectoplasm. "We thought you might know."
"Don't do it."
Vlad jumped, startled at the sudden response in his ear. He twisted his head slightly, but empty air met him. Vlad knew well enough it wasn't actually empty.
"Don't tell them. Please." The hushed voice came again, so close to his ear it sent shivers down his spine.
"Well…Do you know?" Maddie asked again, breaking the silence.
"I…" Vlad ducked behind the door. "No, I don't. I haven't seen him." He rested both hands on the door's edge, ready to shut it.
"Oh, I…" Maddie's face fell, and Vlad caught the sparkle of tears in her eyes. "W-why'd you call?"
"I was up late, trying to revise a new curfew law, I needed a teenager's input. It's just…coincidence."
Maddie waited several seconds to respond, turning Vlad's words over in her mind, until her face fell in tired misery. "I-if you see him then…please, let us know."
Vlad felt his heart leap into his throat, clogging his airway. The two red-rimmed violet eyes stared back at him, with all the desperation in the world, and he didn't know what to tell them. He wanted to hold her, pull her into his arms, tell her everything he knew. He would have, but the ghost boy's chilled breath still fanned his ear. The uneasiness that twisted in his stomach put him off.
"I will. I promise," he told her, unable to look at her anymore. "I'll do whatever I can."
"Thank you. I—"
And he shut the door.
Vlad drilled his eyes into the green carpet at his feet. He clenched his fists, almost giving into the disgust he felt for himself. He could have ripped the door open, brought her back, called Danny out on his act. The boy had hardly been two feet from her, and yet…and yet…
The ethereal ghost at his side shifted back into existence. He floated just at Vlad's shoulder, watching the door with mild interest. Danny was about to speak when Vlad rounded on him.
"Are you happy with yourself?" he nearly seethed. The ghost boy flinched. "Making me lie to her? Go home. Change back and go home."
The spark of interest melted under Vlad's assault. His reaction was delayed, but understanding finally flickered in Danny's eyes. The understanding turned to shock, then misery, as two translucent tears welled in Danny's eyes. He rubbed furiously at them, and managed to spring a leak from each eye. In a matter of seconds, he'd drifted to the floor, walked his ungainly feet to the door, and leaned a glowing hand it. Vlad watched as Danny suppressed the quiet sobs that racked his body.
"I can't," Danny said again.
"Then explain it to me," Vlad snapped back, not letting the boy's state of mind deter him. "I'm tired of you shrugging this off. Explain it to me or go home."
"I don't know how to. I don't…My thoughts are all—" Danny put his arms to his head, throwing his hands out into the air. "They're like…gone. I can't."
A sickening feeling churned in Vlad's stomach. "Hey Daniel," he started.
The boy looked up.
"Ghost," Vlad whispered.
Circuits fired through Danny's mind. He rose, floating in the air, his head turning feverously from side to side. "Where?" he asked.
"There isn't one."
Hardened anger burned in Danny's eyes. "Then why'd you say it?"
"Why do you care so much if there's a ghost?"
Confusion overtook his anger, and Danny floated back down. "I…I don't know."
"What happened to you last night?"
Confusion morphed to concentration, then to frustration, then to clear uncertainty. "I told you, I don't think I can explain."
"Were you fighting a ghost?"
Danny perked up at the word, and Vlad quickly corrected himself.
"Were you fighting something last night, Daniel?"
"I…" Danny looked side to side. "Yes, yes I was."
"Where?"
"In the forest. Maybe…maybe two miles from here, or three, or four. It was right by the long twisty road we take to get here."
"There are a lot of long twisty roads. Be more specific."
Danny just shook his head. "Can't…"
Vlad paused, fighting down the disappointment. "Well then, we'll have to drive the route back to your house. If you pass it on your way here, we'll pass it on our way back."
"No!" Danny quickly shouted, rising again from the floor. "Not back home."
"I won't take you back home. Just on the road." Vlad grabbed the boy's hand. "Get in the car."
Danny didn't offer any protest. He floated just above the floor, stumbling slightly to keep up with the older man's gait.
…
The car started with a quiet growl, revving louder and faster as Vlad twisted the key. Danny sat silently in the passenger's seat, his eyes roving over the dark, snowy outside as he pressed his gloveless hand into the leather seat. His eyes traced over dials and gauges, and his finger fidgeted with the automatic lock on his side of the door. Vlad had been sure to child-proof it, therefore disabling Danny's control of the car door's lock, but he knew it wouldn't matter. Danny could much more easily phase through the window if he pleased.
Danny scraped at the ice that clouded the window, giving up once he realized it was firmly stuck to the outside. The car had been left out in the driveway all night, and its engine groaned from the cold. Vlad drove cautiously, peering through the ice-coated windshield as the tires swerved gently on the road. The rain last night had iced over the powdery snow, leaving behind sheets of frozen sleet. Vlad silently hoped his car was equipped for the conditions.
It was hardly six in the morning, and Vlad drove the back roads alone. These roads were quiet normally, flanked on either side by long stretches forest, since the underdeveloped path led almost exclusively to Vlad's mansion. Now though, they were downright silent. Vlad busied his mind in the hum of the heater, consciously trying to ignore how deathly quiet Danny remained during the trip.
Suddenly, Danny startled, jerking upward and throwing his hand against the glass window. The car veered as Vlad jumped in response.
"What?" he demanded from the agitated boy.
"I know that branch," he whispered with a quivering hand pressed to the glass. His wrist phased through the window, and he pointed the gloveless hand at a snapped, hanging tree branch.
Vlad slowed, and glanced up at the dangling limb. It was least six inches thick, and had been snapped near the trunk, hanging on by a few strained fibers. As Vlad looked ahead, more torn and twisted limbs dotted the right side of the icy road.
"Do you remember anything?" Vlad asked as he pulled the car over on the side of the road. He twisted the key, feeling the car die as its power source was cut off. Without the gentle thrum of the heater, the two half ghosts lapsed into a deathly silence.
"Yeah," Danny whispered finally, rubbing his side. "Ouch."
"I'll take it you were the one tumbling through here?" Vlad tried to trace a path through the snapped tree limbs. He could almost imagine someone falling through from the top, knocked left and right by the thicker branches.
"Yeah," Danny nodded his head, his eyes roving with a hint of fear. "I don't like this place."
From the corner of his eye, Vlad watched the boy pat just below his left shoulder. Danny's gloveless hand looked even paler, patting deeper and deeper below his socket. The palm straddled his arm and chest, shifting toward the latter. Just…patting.
"What's wrong?" Vlad asked.
Danny only shook his head, patting, staring. "Yeah, it's here."
Vlad unlatched the doors with a quick flick of his thumb, enjoying the comfortably familiar noise and pushing the door open at his side. Vlad slid out, landing ankle deep in frost, and rounded the front of his car until he came to the icy snow banks that framed the partially-plowed road. The snapped trees stood just beyond it.
Cold breathing on his shoulder announced Danny's silent presence. Vlad hadn't heard the door open, and figured the boy had just phased through his side. Vlad ignored it, and took one teetering step into the snow. A chill crept through his shoes, and he focused on not slipping.
"What am I doing?" he asked rhetorically as an obvious realization slapped him in the face. Danny easily drifted over the wet, slippery, cold snow and ice, and here was has, trudging in the soaked boots he'd hastily slipped on at the door. Two black rings formed around his waist, spreading over the rumpled clothes he'd tossed on right before getting in the car, and left behind a much more practical, much more immaculate ghost form. He rose out of the snow happily.
An ectoblast nearly scorched his left ear, and Vlad leapt aside with a surprised shout. Danny was floating at his height, staring him down, another ectoblast charged in his palm.
"For god sakes Daniel stop."
He didn't. A second blast. Vlad quickly reverted to his human form, dropping and landing with his feet in the slush.
Confusion overtook Danny's eyes again, and he lowered himself, until he floated just in front of Vlad. Danny wasn't looking at him though, more like past him. "Where?" he started.
Vlad slapped him firmly across the cheek. Danny's head snapped sideways, but he didn't even flinch. "I'm helping you Daniel, out of the goodness of my heart I am helping. Do not make me change my mind."
The ghost boy didn't answer; he merely wandered farther into the forest. On unsteady legs, Vlad followed.
Vlad glanced from side to side, noticing how much worse the destruction got. Tree trunks were scorched; ectoplasmic residue burned in his nostrils; twigs and limbs and entire trees were downed all around him. A few evergreens had most of their pine needles shorn off, the sad, half-scorched foliage scattered around the forest floor. As they progressed, Vlad came across a tree, possibly five feet wide, completely toppled in the snow. Its base had been burned black as night. Charcoal mixed with the white snow around his feet.
Danny stopped suddenly, only a few feet in front of Vlad, and stared into the quiet forest beyond. Vlad could almost make out the end of the destruction, but his focus was torn from the trees when Danny turned in midair. He screwed up his eyes in concentration, and whipped past Vlad with a cold breeze.
"That's enough," Danny said. "I want to go back."
"Go back where?"
Danny turned and blinked. "Your house."
"No, you are not."
He blinked again. "I can't?"
"Tell me what's happening, and maybe I'll consider bringing you back." Vlad crossed his arms over his chest. "Otherwise, I'm bringing you back to Maddie."
"Y-you wouldn't do that. What would she say when Plasmius shows up at her door? You think…think she'd be okay with that?" Danny challenged. The anxiety in his voice robbed it of any threat, but even now, the blackmail worked on Vlad.
Instead, Vlad trekked on, tripping and sliding on the icy sheets. His balance faltered, toppling him forward, and he hit the soft ground with a thud. Vlad moaned, pressing his arms into the snow, cracked his blurry eyes open. He caught sight of ectoplasmic blood frozen under the layer of ice. A little tremor of excitement fluttered in his chest, and he shoved his chest out of the snow. Whatever had happened here, he was getting close to it.
"Let's go!" Danny called from behind him. The ghost ricocheted back and forth between the man and the path back to the street, like he was trying to coax a dog to follow him, but Vlad ignored him. He traced the path with his eyes.
Vlad shuffled forward on his hands and knees, the cold a distant concern, and followed the faint residue of green beneath the ice. His hand suddenly sunk into powdery snow. He yanked it out, shaking off the cold, but instead studied to strangely soft spot with curiosity. He lost some of the trail here. The thick tree covering him offered a pretty clear answer; its pine needles were intact, and had protected the soft, snowy area underneath from the on slot of ice last night. Instead, an uneven blanket of snow covered the ground, probably blown under the tree by the wind.
The mound of snow rose high to his left. Chunks of ice protruded from the snow bank; the top of the pile had caved inward. Its uneven appearance made a sharp juxtaposition with the smooth ice and wind-blown snow that surrounded it. Ignoring the whimpering of the ghost behind him, the billionaire got back on his feet to investigate. He didn't even care that the trail of ectoplasm was lost under the pile of snow.
"Vlad!" Danny cried, suddenly appearing at his side. "Come on! Let's go! I don't…" Danny swooped in front of him, his arms wide. "It's cold. Let's go." Shiny tears pricked his eyes.
"Daniel," Vlad started with a lump in his throat. His focus was solely on the strange snow, the horrible destruction. He didn't need Danny interfering now, useless as he was. "There's a ghost."
Danny's eyes glazed. "Where?"
Vlad point back to the car. "Over there."
And the ghost boy was gone in a flash of light.
His suspicion ate through him like acid, and Vlad conjured a ball of heated ectoplasm in his palm. He held it to the mound of snow, watching the delicate crystals melt away. With a slight spark, the radius of the ectoplasmic ball increased, eating into the snow. Vlad pushed his hand in, letting the melted snow seep into his sleeve. It chilled him to the bone, but still he dug deeper, until the mound of snow collapsed in on itself. Something poked through the soggy mess.
Vlad grabbed it.
A thermos, a Fenton Thermos, with one deep crack running along its left side. He ran his hand over the icy exterior, tracing the sleek metal, the jagged teeth of the crack. Vlad held the thermos up to the sky and peered inside as the sunlight shone through the crack. It looked empty, like a normal thermos, the concave inside curved into a perfect cylinder. Vlad unscrewed the cap, opened it, and tested the ghost ray traction. He jammed his thumb on the retractor.
Nothing. The thermos wouldn't start. Vlad shook it, tried again, and was met with the same result. It didn't work.
He brought back the ectoplasmic ball in his hand, enjoying the warmth that spread through his arm after the thermos had sucked so much heat from him. The ectoplasmic sphere warmed the thermos too, and Vlad felt certain he saw the metal expand a bit. He studied the thermos, mindlessly running the warm ectoplasm over his suit, his legs, and finally letting it rest on his head. He felt water run down his face as the bits of snow lodged in his hair dissolved.
A broken thermos. He turned it over in his free hand. A dead, broken thermos. No good in a ghost fight.
"Daniel!" Vlad called, watching the boy circle his car. True, he'd sent the boy away, but a new question burned in his mind.
"What?" the boy called back over, continuing his search.
"This thermos is broken. Is it yours?"
Danny looked over briefly. "Yeah," he answered. He froze, his eyes scouring the thermos, and swooped back to Vlad's side. "That's…it was broken."
"You remember?"
"Yeah." Danny's eyes went wide, they swiveled upward, then back to Vlad. Terror overtook his face.
"It was…it was broken last night? Already?"
"Yeah," he answered with a quiver in his word.
Plop. Vlad felt something drip onto his head. As an afterthought, he dispersed the heat from his raised hand, realizing he'd melted the snow on the tree above. Danny only looked at him in horror.
The drip moved down his face, crossing between his eyes and over his nose. Vlad rubbed it away.
Plop. Vlad wiped quickly at his head, inwardly deciding that a head full of snow may have been better than a head drenched in water.
"Don't look up," Danny whispered with a terrified squeak. "We need to leave."
Yet, in the all too human habit of doing precisely what one is told not to do, Vlad looked up; he looked up at the tangle of tree branches above his head. Cracked tree limbs lay skewed at odd angles, and cradled in them lay the answer Vlad wanted.
A raven-haired teen was slumped in a mess of broken branches. His body buckled inward, his head turned at an odd angle; congealed blood matted his hair, verging on frozen. At the nape of the boy's neck, a drop of liquid red pooled and fell onto Vlad's head. Vlad didn't wipe this drop away; he let it trickle down his forehead, losing itself in his matted silver hair. He only surveyed the scene in quiet horror, noticing how the snow near the boy's neck had melted too, product of his heated palm.
Vlad's neck swiveled around, his wide eyes flickering over the floating ghost boy. "But how are you-?"
The answer rushed through him like ice.
"Can we leave?" the boy whimpered again. "I don't like looking at it."
Vlad raised one trembling hand to the tree above, the tips of his fingers brushing against the boy's frozen skin. It was hard, like stone, littered with black blotches of frostbite. He quickly retracted his arm, nauseated and colder than he ever remembered feeling. Words failed him, and he simply turned to face the quivering ghost-boy.
"She didn't mean to break the thermos," Danny whispered, his head shaking, eyes brimming with tears. "She'd never—it was an accident, Vlad."
"Who?" he asked quietly. His stomach turned, his heart leaping, he knew. He already knew.
"It was the ice really. It was too cold for the thermos. It was the other ghost who…It was…" Wind swept through the trees. Danny's dangling arm rode the breeze, and the ghost flinched away with a quiet whimper. "But she was the one who left me…" he finished, the hollow echo in his voice perfectly tuned to the wind.
Vlad plodded through the sopping mush, finding his footing on the hardened ice. He set both hands on the boy's shoulder, lowering to ghost to his height. "Danny, listen to me: we'll take you back home. We'll explain to he—no, listen! We'll explain to her, and she'll be heartbroken, but at least, at least, she'll have you back. That's all she wants."
Danny shook his head, phasing straight out of Vlad's grip. "It won't work." His bleary, green eyes trailed to the crumpled mess in the branches.
"Why not?"
"I'm not me anymore." His eyes quivered, drinking in the dead boy's body. "Whatever I was, whoever I was—i-it's hanging there in that tree. I feel that…so much of me is just gone, and no matter how hard I try to remember, it doesn't come back. I don't think I understand anything…The world is blurry," Tears spilled over his eyes as he looked away. "and all I can think about are ghosts."
"It's your obsession," Vlad answered calmly, struggling to repress the panic that built in his throat. "But that doesn't define you," he lied.
Danny's rocking head stared at the ground. "I listen to my parents. I know a lot about ghosts, and I know what I am. I'm just…memories. I'm a shell. I can't learn. I can't adjust." The green eyes lit up with fire as they stared into Vlad. A cold rush swept down Vlad's spine, and he backed away instinctively.
Vlad kept his eyes locked on the ghost boy. "She needs to know you're—"
"She needs to know Danny Fenton's dead," Danny's ghost seethed, until his eyes softened, the feral gleam leaving them. "Please," he muttered.
Vlad listened to the quiet howl of the wind.
"Would you please tell her?"
Cold wind brushed against Vlad's legs. He watched the intensity that burned on the ghost's face, outlining bleak, dead eyes. The realization slammed into him just then, and his eyes widened at the gut-wrenching tug of understanding. He saw it—he finally saw it. The deadness in the child's eyes, that unsettling gleam that had swamped the neon irises since last night. He'd seen it plenty of times before in ghosts, so much so that he didn't realize what was amiss when he saw it in Danny's eyes. It had never been there before. That look, that feel—It was death.
"Her son needs to tell her," Vlad tried weakly. He felt his voice weaken, his argument falling apart at the seams, his being eaten up the heavy stench of death. The ghost was right, and Vlad's every human fiber warned him to leave. The potent aura of death was so fresh, so powerful, so absolute.
"Her son can't tell her. Her son is dead." Danny's ghost sunk into the snow, his legs folding beneath him, his hair blending into the winter wasteland.
One last gust of wind picked up. It tousled the ghost's hair, blasting it across his face, erasing his face.
"And I…I'm nobody."
...
(A/N: So I found the first part of this sitting on my hard drive at school. I'd started it an forgot about it, so I decided to pick it up again. I've also got a half-dozen more half-completed one shots in the making, and the makings of another full-length story. I hope to get them all out eventually. :) )
Welcome to Phantomrose96's Oneshots. Today's forecast is cloudy with an 80% chance of Danny dying.