My own bedroom was confusing the shit out of me and that simple fact made me want to beat my head against the wall. I knew it would take time to heal – my mind, my body, my emotions – and that not nearly enough had passed but goddamn, I was frustrated! Mom and Dad weren't helpful. They tried but they didn't get it. They didn't know how to help or what to say. They were in and out every five minutes on a schedule, so it seemed, asking me if I needed food or water or anything. I never say yes. Half of the thrill now was being able to get it myself. Which was pathetic and sad.

My phone also was confusing the shit out of me. When I turned it back on, the dings of notifications had nearly sent me burning it to a crisp in my hand.

I picked up the phone gingerly and called a familiar number.

"Danny!"

"Hey, Tuck." First hour home. It was more than time I talked to him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "What's up with you?"

"Can you come over? I wanna see you. I need to see you and Jazz in the same room. He told me you were both dead." I felt myself beginning to tear up and I tried to crush those feelings down. I didn't want to cry.

"Jazz told me. Yeah, I'll come, but, uh, Danny, there's … about Jazz. I –"

"I know," I said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "He told me that too."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's … It's …" I searched for the right words. "As long as you're happy."

"The old Danny would have … There's, um, a word. Fuck. Mom!" Tucker called and I heard his phone shift around. "What's the word for, like, if you beat someone up or chop up their body or something?"

"Mutilate?" Mrs. Foley guessed.

"Yes, thank you!"

"Tucker Foley, who the hell are you talking to?"

"It's Danny, Mom!"

"Tell him I hope he's doing all right!"

Tucker let out a sigh and then he returned to our phone call. "The old Danny would have mutilated me."

"I spent months thinking you were dead, Tuck. As long as you're happy. But if Jazz ever decides she wants you gone …" I let it hang, unable to stomach finish the threat.

"I understand," Tucker said. "I'm going to come over."

"Thanks."

I hung up the phone and made me way into Jazz's room. I didn't know how to be all alone anymore. I wondered if Sam was feeling the same way. I crawled onto the end of my sister's bed like I was an oversized dog.

"You okay, Danny?"

The question was almost laughable.

"No. Tucker's coming over. You guys aren't going to make out in front of me, are you?"

"Not unless you're being really annoying."

I whined and she just laughed at me.

"Grab me my textbook, would you?"

I sat up and grabbed it off the desk, depositing it on her lap before I returned to my nice little spot at the end of the bed. I watched as she cracked it open.

"Aren't you all done exams?"

"Doing some extra credit work. I fell behind this semester."

Right. Of course. Life hadn't been the same for Jazz or Tucker but what they had been doing while I was locked away was hard to picture. My life in the cell was probably just as unfathomable to them. I heard footsteps on the stairs and perked up, thinking that Tucker had gotten here quickly, but it was just my mom, sticking her head in the door.

"I'm so glad to see you together again," she gushed.

"I'm still going to get Danny into college," Jazz promised while I snorted.

"Jazz, I just got out of Gitmo, give me a break."

Mom's face twisted and I wished it wasn't in my nature to make a fucking joke out of everything.

"No, I mean, Gitmo is definitely way worse."

Just dig yourself deeper, Daniel, go on.

"I'm glad you still think you're funny," Mom said and she shook her head. "What do you want for your first dinner home, Danny?"

The question stumped me. She was going to make me what I wanted? Fuck. I pressed my fingers to my temples.

"Um, no ectoplasm."

Mom laughed and came over to ruffle my hair. "Hamburgers and fries? Even we can't screw those up."

"Ecto-weenies," Jazz said flatly, not even looking up from her textbook.

"We'll do our best."

"Thanks, Mom."

I heard another set of footsteps on the stairs, definitely not as heavy as Dad's steps would be.

"Tuck?" I called.

"Danny!"

I bolted from the bed, hearing my mother laugh and asked Jazz, "I thought he was injured."

"Not when it comes to Tucker."

I hadn't been injured when it came to hugging Jazz either. I met Tucker at the top of my stairs and I didn't stop to think of anything other than just fucking hugging him. I couldn't remember the last time I had hugged Tucker and I couldn't come up with it. He often tossed an arm around my neck to tease me about how he was taller; I lugged him around while flying. We bumped elbows and knees and fell asleep on opposite ends of his parents' couch but I couldn't remember the last time that I had straight up hugged my best friend. And burst into tears on his shoulder.

"Holy shit."

"Sorry," I said but I didn't really know if I was.

"It's okay, Danny. It's okay. I missed you too."

That just made the waterworks hit harder as much as I tried to stuff them down. I wasn't much of a crier, not really. But things had gone shitdick sideways and my whole life was boiled down to whatever that fucking cell had turned me into to the point where paint on walls had taken me a minute to adjust to. The fact that I hadn't gone batshit insane had earnt me the right to cry whenever I damn well pleased.

"Danny," Jazz called. "Danny, come here."

Tucker pushed me back into her bedroom and I was glad that Mom cleared out and shut the door behind her, leaving us alone with each other. I sat down on the end of Jazz's bed and she made room for Tucker. He leant over to kiss her cheek and I pulled a face.

"Hey! I thought you said you weren't going to make out with her in front of me!"

"Oh, that's not making out," Jazz said. "Making out would look like –"

"Don't you dare!" I shrieked, like I was a preteen girl, but it felt so normal that I just laughed.

"I thought you said as long as we were happy," Tucker teased, pulling Jazz's legs into his lap but sitting next to me. "Making out with her makes me happy."

"I might have to take those words back."

"You wouldn't do that to me," Tucker said confidently.

"Nah," I said after a beat. "I wouldn't."

I watched him grasp onto her hand.

"How long, exactly, have you guys been going out?" I asked, squinting at them. "How long did I miss this for?"

Jazz giggled. "You'd never forgive yourself if we told you."

I glanced at her face and then up at Tucker's. "I had my head stuck really far up my own ass, didn't I?"

"We really weren't all the sneaky," Tucker admitted. "Your dad figured it out."

I shut my mouth on the subject. If Dad had figured it out, then I might as well just wear a fucking dunce cap.

(-.-)

"You don't have to do this tonight."

Well, I knew that but it was best if I did it tonight, which Jazz and Tucker also knew. I had made my plan with them, like it was old times. I had spoken to Walker, which had given me the creeps because I still didn't trust him for shit. Jazz had put Sam's number in my phone. Vlad wouldn't be expecting it. It almost had to be tonight.

"Cover for me," I said to Jazz and Tucker, like they hadn't been doing it for, like, six years and like they wouldn't have done it for me.

"You better come back this time," Jazz said, a real threat in her voice. "Or I'll tear that mansion apart with my bare hands."

"Why didn't you do it last time?" I asked.

"I couldn't walk!" she snapped. "And I couldn't be sure you were there."

"Sorry. Sorry, I know it sucked for you too."

"She told me to put a tracking device on you," Tucker admitted, shoving his glasses up his nose. "I think I'm going to."

"Everyone gets chipped," I said, rolling my eyes. "Okay. I'm going. I'll be home soon."

"Better be."

I ignored Jazz, even though it almost hurt to do. I turned my back on the two of them and let myself transform for the first time in months. I waited, expecting to hear Sam screaming all the way across Amity. But she didn't and I was me again. I had all of me back again. My halfa and my human parts. I looked down at my white gloves, watching ice freeze over the tips of my fingers. I still wasn't going to convince that I was going to murder Vlad once I set eyes on him again but I knew Jazz was hoping I'd show slightly more restraint. Tucker, I knew, would help me bury the body.

"Thermos," I said and Jazz slid it into my hand. "Be home soon."

I said it again like a promise, even though I couldn't bring myself to look back at them as a I phased out the wall and into the night. All I wanted was to stay home with them. I wanted to play video games too loud with Tucker and have Jazz throw popcorn at us while we rock-paper-scissored on who had to go get more soda. But that wasn't the life I had chosen. I had chosen the role of the hero and people I loved had suffered for it. Now, I had to go and make sure that it would never happen again. Then, I'd move onto my nights at home. Then, I'd let myself rest and recover. Then, not now.

Despite my errand weighing heavily on my mind, I couldn't help but let the cold wind wash over me and grin as I flew. After so long of being cramped, this is what freedom really and truly felt like. I wished that there was nothing more to the night than flying and wind and staring up at the stars and stretching my arms out, rustling the tree tops as I went. But I had a mission. I tucked the thermos into my belt and swung toward Vlad's mansion. I felt like throwing up as I went. I remembered walking into Vlad's mansion. I didn't remember walking out and it had only been a few short days ago that I was in that cell. Part of me, I was sure, was still there.

I didn't want to go back in there.

I made myself, though, and I sunk through the ceiling, staying invisible. I kept a lookout for any of Vlad's ghostly servants but I wasn't surprised when I didn't find any of them on the main floors. Even Vlad and Elliot were suspiciously absent. They had to be in the basement. Which was the last place I wanted to fucking be. What kind of cowardly hero would I be if I didn't go? So, I went. I went and I hated every moment of it. It was quiet, eerie, there was no one else around. Where were the ghosts? Vlad was too much of a fucking ego-maniac to not have his entourage surrounding him.

The further I went down the dreary tunnels, the more concerned I got. There were large smears of ectoplasm on the walls and it couldn't have come from Vlad or I – it was far too green for that. A ghost had been obliterated here. It gave me an uneasy feeling and I tried to scrape together the little I knew about Vlad's plan. He had needed me. He had been killing other ghosts. Was he murdering his own servants? Probably, I thought grimly. It wasn't something that Vlad would be above.

I stopped cold.

That was the cell. Mine and Sam's cell. It was smaller than it looked, standing on the outside. I gripped the bars and leant forward, realizing that I'd watch Elliot do the same thing when I was captured, and I quickly let go. I took one last look at it and forced myself to put one foot in front of the other and move on. I was almost to the end of the hall when I heard noises, finally. I recognized Vlad's voice and a slightly higher one that had to be Elliot.

I hefted the thermos in my hand and calculated a plan. Provided Vlad didn't know I was here, I should just get him into the thermos first. He was dangerous. He'd kill me. Elliot, however, wasn't ghostly at all. I could fucking fight him. I could get all of the info out of him that I needed. I clenched my hand around the thermos and took a deep breath. I phased through the door and Vlad spun around immediately.

"DANIEL!"

He was crazier looking than I had ever seen him, His immaculate hair was knotted and greasy and his eyes were massively, red streaked and fucked. I opened the thermos before he could speak again. He knew what it was on sight and he lunged toward me. I dodged an ecto-ball and realized just how slow my reflexes were. I staggered backward, even though I had to turn my back on Elliot. I turned the beam of the thermos toward Vlad and even though the struggled, I had managed to be faster. He went into the thermos and then I just stared at it. It was that quick. It was that easy. Vlad was trapped and gone forever. It should have been harder, shouldn't it?

I heard a scuffling sound and I looked up, watching Elliot cower against the back wall. He was just a pussy without Vlad in front of him and I approached, ectoplasmic balls glowing at my fingertips. I grabbed him around the throat and threw him up against the wall.

"You better start talking," I said, as if there was a chance he wouldn't go in the thermos if he did.

Elliot didn't know better and he just started jabbering away, gasping for breath. None of that brought me any satisfaction. It should have been Vlad. It should have been Vlad that was able to torture and strangle and bring hell down upon but I had to settle for snivelling Elliot, who liked being evil until I was in his face.

"Please," Elliot begged. "Let me go."

"Fuck you."

And into the thermos he went.

So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about Superman or the Reflections Universe, go to my tumblr URL and add backslash tagged backslash reflections dash universe. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.

~TLL~