A/N: Hey, I'm back!

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.


78. Drink

A small beam of sunlight coming through the high window hit the fish bowl filled with clear water standing in the corner of his cell, the light breaking into it's different colors on the white wall behind it. Three o'clock. The light hit the bowl at three o'clock each day, give or take a minute. He supposed it would be a little later or earlier every day and for a moment he tried to reason the time difference for each day, but he no longer had the ability to calculate anything.

He stared at the small rainbow on the wall and somewhere in his head a small green frog started singing 'Somewhere over the rainbow' and laughing madly. He didn't try to suppress it anymore, listening to it quietly and with every tone he felt his mind slipping away from him, his hope dying that they would find him here, that they would somehow guess where he was.

Water. Out of his reach.

He moved his feet a little and the shackles made a soft scraping sound on the floor he was lying on. Soft as it was, the sound pierced through his brain, intensifying itself in his mind, echoing until he closed his eyes and concentrated on being perfectly still again. Random thoughts shot through his brain, thoughts he didn't have any control over, all somehow having something to do with water. He tried to think about his family instead, his friends, Sam, but their faces were vague, blurred and somehow meaningless.

Breathing hurt. Every rasping breath he took through his dry mouth cut through his throat like a knife, but he didn't have a choice, he had to breathe. Not breathing would end his life instantly, not drinking... would end his life later, prolonging his suffering. He no longer knew why he was doing it.

Right in front of him were a lump of bread and some cookies on a small white plate. He was hungry, but he couldn't eat it, he'd need to drink something first. Next to the plate was a small white cup, filled with an ominous looking black liquid. He only needed to stretch his hand to grab it.

With some difficulty he averted his eyes from it and stared at the concrete floor instead. It was clean and white and cold. He had collapsed on it a day ago and he was still laying in the same position, with his back against the white wall, his knees drawn up to his stomach and his arms wrapped around his chest in a futile attempt to stay warm. A tremor went through the floor, but he no longer wondered what was going on. It made the water in the fish bowl ripple and the small colored spot dance on the wall.

He only needed to extend his hand and grab the small white cup.

Twice he had done it already, his shaking hand had wrapped itself around the cup, he had drawn it close and even brought it to his lips, and twice he had hurled it through his cell at the opposing wall, shattering the cup and leaving a black stain on it. Twice, Vlad had come in and had quietly replaced the cup.

Three days, five hours and fourteen minutes. He knew because Vlad had let him keep his watch. He had beaten him senseless first, chained his ankles to the wall in this white cell and then explained to him the one condition on which he could have all the water he ever wanted.

"Just drink that, little badger, and you're free to go anywhere you want."

"You're sick. I'm not going to drink that! What's the big deal anyways, you could just force it into me."

"Ah. Yes. But then it won't work. You have to drink it voluntarily. Ta!"

Three days, five hours and fifteen minutes ago. The liquid smelled foul, there was no way Vlad would have been able to administer it to Danny secretly without him noticing it. He was staring at it again and his vision blurred. He cried silently, without tears, and again extended his hand to the potion that would make him Vlad's slave.


Oh, the dilemma... doesn't really compare to braving the cold mountain air to get some water versus a nice warm sleeping bag (I didn't, by the way, I thought up this story instead :)