A/N: YAY! AN UPDATE! WOOO!
So…almost nobody answered my VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION from the last A/N: So…who do you ship Jazz with? I'm considering Ghost Writer, or creating an OC.
Anyway, here are some review highlights…which I forgot to do last time!
WhiteWinterStar: Yep, that was Rose!
The Talent: We'll see if I can expound on this in Adrift, or if it'll show up more in Crown of Fire…
Cartwheellou: Ah, yes, the BOO-merang.
Yurika the Lunara: Welcome to the madness! Muahahahahaha!
Chapter #22: My Everything
Fire sears in his veins, and he struggles to catch his next breath. His skin shines with a thin sheen of sweat.
"So, tell us, Daniel," Kovich smiles, "If we keep you here long enough, your pretty little girlfriend is bound to come for you, isn't she?"
He coughs, his hands clenching behind his back, "She knows better," he pants, "She's dating a superhero. You think she's not used to this? Too bad for you, I'm all you get."
The smile slides from his face, "Burgess, I think our friend here just said he likes the effects of our little cocktail. Give him another dosage."
Danny's eyes slide to the little red vial, and the syringe filling with potion. His gaze moves to his arm, where blood has trickled down and dripped on the floor. His veins are an agitated red around the small puncture.
"What did you call it? The red flowers?" Ramirez grins, "Blood Blossoms. I like it. What do you think would happen if we dumped it into the water around here?"
"That depends. Where are we?" Danny rasps.
"Cute," he laughs, "Where we are doesn't matter to you. You're just cargo, now."
"Well," he sneers, "it was worth a try."
The syringe is inserted into a different vein, and he can feel it the moment it comes into contact with his body. His lungs seize, and he spasms as every nerve in his body lights on fire again. Finally, he manages to pull air into his lungs, but it's not long before the poison reaches them. He coughs again, a tasting blood.
"You didn't put too much, did you?" Kovich presses, raising an eyebrow.
"He's capable of surviving more than your average human. He'll probably be fine," Burgess dismisses.
"I hope so," he rumbles, "Now, my young ghost. Who is the most powerful ghost besides Pariah Dark?"
"It took more than one ghost to seal him away," Danny smirks, "So who knows?"
He clicks his tongue, "You're not being helpful, Mr. Fenton."
"My knowledge of the Infinite Realms is hardly endless," he laughs, quickly reduced to coughs.
"So what are your parents working on? New ghost tech is valuable."
"Who knows? They keep it secret from me and Jazz – they just lock themselves into the lab. It's not like they're using them on me anymore. What do I care about what they're making?"
Ross grips the halfa's shirt, pulling him up, "When Captain Kovich tells you you're not being helpful, you need to be helpful."
"Then he needs to ask the right questions."
"I want to know how half-ghosts like you are created!" Kovich shouts, "And I want to know where your little girlfriend is!"
"Too bad," Danny smiles, tilting his head to look around Ross, "You'll never hear that information from me, even if you finish killing me."
The world swirls in his vision, but he can still see Kovich's cold eyes, alight with the fury of a man who is used to getting his way. A man who has been defied and denied.
"She took out one of my men," he struggles to keep his composure, "Stole his radio, no? Did you teach her how to fight?"
"I just wish I could have seen it," Danny laughs, darkness gathering at the edges of his vision.
"She's got fighting spirit," Ramirez acknowledges, twirling a knife between his fingers, "She'd have survived in my village. She'd have been one of the ones who carried guns against the cartel. My partner. My support. If only she had grown up with me, instead of in a privileged little penthouse. I suppose, however," he smiles, leaning closer, "she could not escape her destiny. Her destiny to be a fighter, a destroyer of enemies. Someday, she will become a killer, as she was meant to."
"Yeah. She kills the weeds infesting her garden on a regular basis. She's a cold-blooded killer," he snips back weakly, his head beginning to pound. The darkness closes in further.
"You know where I think she'd look amazing?" Ramirez whispers in his ear, knowing that his consciousness is fading, "She'd fit nicely in my bed. It'd be a bit of a squeeze for both of us, but…then again, we won't be sleeping, now will we?"
"You…" he struggles, his tongue thick.
"I'll let you watch. Do you think she'll call out for you?"
Danny's eyes slip closed against his will, fury dying on his lips. Ramirez watches for a few moments, turning away with a snicker.
"I hope you didn't kill our payday, Burgess," he laughs.
"He's fine," he dismisses, flipping another page of his book.
"Fine, huh?" they turn back to the captive, whose eyes glare red beneath his bangs, "Listen here, you worms. If you ever lay a hand on her, you will never be found again. She's mine, do you understand?"
"Your what?" Kovich asks, an ecto-weapon in his hand.
"My what?" he laughs, his voice an unfamiliar rumble, "My everything. My obsession, my life, my humanity, my queen. I will never let anyone take her from me."
"…who are you?"
Their prisoner doesn't reply, his head limp and eyes closed, moving rapidly beneath the lids.
"What the…" Ross breathes, "What was that?"
"I don't know," Kovich replies honestly, "But I don't think that was Daniel Fenton, do you?"
-BREAK-
"Ruined. Our daughter is ruined, Jeremy—"
"Pamela…"
"I thought she was against violence. What was that?! Where did she learn how to do that?!"
"Pamela…"
"Where did you learn?" Natalie whispers.
"Danny taught me. His mom's a black belt. So is Valerie. So really, I've had a plethora of people to learn from," Sam replies, listening carefully for chatter – both on the radio and in her head.
"And she's carrying a gun so comfortably!" Pamela finishes her long-winded rant, her voice several octaves higher than usual.
"Ecto-guns are not technically harmful to humans, but getting a blast to the chest will still leave some nasty bruises," Sam pipes up.
"I think she's more worried about the other one," Jeremy frowns.
Sam looks down at the Glock secured to her hip, with a full clip. Nine bullets. She suppresses a shiver, and quickly looks away, trying to ignore its weight at her side, "Yeah. Honestly, so am I."
She doesn't know why she'd taken it. But just before they left the cafeteria, she felt a mild burning sensation in her arm. Then she'd heard Danny's muffled cries of pain in her mind. Then she heard it – blood blossoms. She saw the needle. Then he'd reinforced the wall, and the first thing she saw was the fallen guard, his pistol not even fully drawn from its holster. Next thing she knew, it was in her hands, a grip like sandpaper digging into her palm.
"…m? Sam? Are you okay?" Jeremy asks, "You look pale."
She clenches her jaw, "I'm always pale," she tries to laugh.
He looks at his daughter. Unshed tears glitter in her shadow-rimmed eyes. Her hair is pulled into a hasty ponytail, with a few flyaway strands. She's wearing a tank-top she'd stolen from Danny's cabin not long ago, cut with a knife – one she'd also stolen from his room, though he has no idea how the halfa snuck it on board – to show her stomach.
"Let's take a break. Last you heard, they're all with Danny, right?"
"Yeah," she makes a fist.
They slip into a cabin and place a sleeping Ida on the bed. Sam quickly turns to the door, intending to take the first watch, but Jeremy stops her.
"You need sleep more than any of us. Alright, Sam?"
"I'm fine," she insists, but he takes her shoulders gently and guides her back to the bed, "You've been carrying a lot. Mentally and physically. I'll take the first watch."
"I'll take the one after that," Captain Voss volunteers.
"See? Danny would probably agree that you need rest. We need you sharp. He needs you sharp."
"Right," she mutters, "Thanks," she places the Glock on the stand and hands over the ecto-gun before curling up beside her grandmother.
"Voss, Al? Perhaps Jeremy could use your help out in the hallway," Pamela begins coolly.
"Ah…yes…" they both shift, slipping into the corridor.
"…I was wondering when you'd decide we needed to talk," Sam sighs, "I don't want to hear it, Mom. I've already heard everything—"
"I had a roommate, a long time ago," Pamela interrupts, "She was my best friend. She dated the same guy all through high school. Said they were soul mates. But one day, I found out that he was cheating on her. What is a girl supposed to do, Sammy?" her voice has fallen to a harsh whisper, "Was I supposed to just keep quiet? Shrug it off as a drunken tryst? Maybe it was none of my business. But I finally decided to tell her. She was furious. Spent an hour screaming at me, asking why I would make something like that up. A week later, she found out it was true. He broke up with her because he'd found some little blond tramp with large, bouncy breasts," she sneers, her eyes narrowed angrily, "She fell into a depression after that…she'd never imagined her life without him, so when he was out of the picture, she just…she didn't know what to do. All of her dreams, her plans…they were destroyed in an instant. Lizzie was like a sister to me, Sammy, but…I didn't see it coming. I came home from work early one day, and…she'd downed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. She was resuscitated in the hospital, but…she was brain-dead," Sobs catch in her throat, "Part of me wondered if it was all my fault for telling her. Or maybe I hadn't been there like she needed me to be because I was spending too much time talking to your father at coffee shops. I ran through so many scenarios, trying to find a way I could've saved her."
"…I'm sorry," Sam whispers, "I never knew…"
"Do you understand, Sam?" she cuts, "They were just like you and Danny. But he broke her heart, and she never recovered."
"Except that losing Danny is always a possibility," Sam replies softly, "And yeah, it'll hurt if I lose him. When I lose him. I ask him constantly," her voice wavers, "I'll ask him to be careful, to not die on me. I do it all the time. I don't know why," she laughs mirthlessly, "It's as though I'm expecting his answer to be different. He just gets that sad smile on his face and tells me he'll try. That he can't promise he'll come back alive, because he knows that one day, he won't. The chances of Danny dying of old age are almost zero, and I have to live with that because I love him."
"Sam…"
"I love him," she smiles, "I love his goofy smile, the way he scratches at the back of his neck when he's nervous, the silly little gestures of affection. I also love his courage, his selflessness, his confidence. I love the way his eyes flicker acid green when he gets a rush of emotion. I love the way they can be as cold as ice or burn like acid. I love feeling his arms around me when we go flying. I love staring down at Amity Park with a cool breeze in my face and his warmth at my back. His stubborn, selfless nature may tick me off sometimes, but…I love Danny Fenton. I love him as Fenton and Phantom. I will always love him."
"Sammykins…"
"Always. He could die tomorrow, and even if I did eventually find someone else, he'd have to accept that I'll always love Danny."
"But could he say the same thing about you?!" Pamela snaps, "If you died, would he always love you, or would he go skipping off with someone like Paulina?!"
Sam goes pale, "Danny wouldn't let Tuck or I die before him anyway," she whispers, "It's dangerous on multiple levels."
"Dangerous?! For who?!" she screeches.
"For everyone!" Sam snaps, "The World, the Ghost Zone…you name it! If Danny loses the people he loves, bad things happen."
"…a safety net," Jeremy whispers, "He told me you were all like a safety net, but if you were gone, he'd fall from the tightrope he balances on. He also said…" he swallows, "That if he falls, humanity is doomed."
"It's not my place to tell you," she whispers, "The Fenton-Phantom deal I was willing to spill, but this one…this one stays in his court."
You know, if I had an ounce of humanity left in me this would be a very touching little reunion; but of course, I surrendered my human half a long time ago.