4
Rest. Rest was sweet. Rest was needed. Rest was wanted. Timmy trudged up the steps to his room, ignoring the robotic butlers and maids, ignoring his fairy godparents as they fluttered worriedly around him. Rest was something he craved at the moment. Just a little rest and then he would go and see if he could finally visit Danny in New York. The thought made him feel more somber and tired. His poor cousin, trapped in some corrupt version of himself; how was he taking it? Did he even know what had happened to him?
And he couldn't forget all that he had learned that day, the weird ring buried in the ground where the jungle gym once stood, the hole in the wall where the switch had been... the implication that Crocker had been his murderer. But if that was so, why would Crocker be weeping and broken? Wouldn't he have been gloating that day?
Probably because he didn't get Cosmo and Wanda, like he wanted. Of course they wouldn't have shown up until it was too late; Timmy personally made sure of that...
He jerked his head up, a cold feeling passing over him as his eyes went wide. Why was that suddenly pressing into his mind as though it were a very important memory? He had made his wish that morning, before he went to school. He told them to have the day off, do anything they wanted as long as it didn't involve him, then at recess he was murdered. And his godparents were unable to help because he had wished them to stay away from him. Not strong enough of a wish to override their Timmy Sense, but enough to cost them time and him his life.
Had the whole thing been planned? Had someone waited until he was vulnerable to strike? It couldn't be possible; who would know that he really had fairies, far less told them to leave him open to attack on that very day he was killed?
"Ungghh..." the brunet groaned softly, stumbling the rest of the way into his room and collapsing onto his bed. The questions were making his head hurt and the magical drain was exhausting him. He hoped for a short nap, something to bolster his strengths again, and closed his eyes before he even knew what was happening.
At the entrance to his room, Cosmo and Wanda hovered silently, watching him with worried gazes.
"You don't suppose they really know who and what he is, do you, Cosmo?" Wanda whispered fearfully, "After everything that's happened to us, after we worked so hard to keep it hidden... it can't go like this." Cosmo shrugged helplessly and she looked away from him back towards the boy. "I guess I should have seen it sooner. But then, I guess it's because a part of me wanted this to happen to him."
"Why?" Cosmo asked in honest confusion, his eyes wide with hurt and shock.
"To set things right, I suppose." the pink-haired fairy murmured sadly, gazing downward tearfully, "It's nice to have him to ourselves again, and forever this time, but the way he was... it was only part of him. And he's changing now, because of everything."
"We tell him?"
"No!" Wanda whispered fiercely, turning a serious glare on her husband, "He can't find out! He must never know and we have to make sure he doesn't do anything to jeopardize the truth! We saw what happened to Anti-Cosmo when he went to see how much of it was exposed! Worse stuff could happen to us!" She gestured towards the boy. "Think of how much suffering he could go through... because of us..."
"No." Cosmo corrected coldly, "Because of me. He suffers because of me." He shook his head and pressed a hand to his temple. "Ow... Head hurts. Going beddy-bye." he whimpered and fluttered away, heading for the bedroom he and Wanda shared. She watched him leave worriedly, then glanced back at Timmy a final time.
"My sweet little godchild, that is who you are and that is who you will ever be." she murmured and flew away herself.
It was the sound of his phone ringing that woke Timmy up. Bleary-eyed and unwilling to lift his head from the softness of the pillows, he reached out to his bedside table, fumbled for the cell phone, then dragged it towards himself. A flick of the wrist and he pressed it to his ear.
"Hello?" he slurred into the phone, half aware of the voice speaking softly at the other end, "Wha-?"
"I just wanted to know how you were doing. I've been trying to call you for ages now." Tootie's voice came clearer and the brunet forced himself closer to wakefulness, "The Others were worried about you... me most of all... You looked so pale today."
"Like Death warmed over?" Timmy joked faintly, shifting around on the bed to find a more comfortable position in which to lie and talk at the same time. He glanced at his clock and winced at the time; nine p.m. He'd slept for five hours easy. Whatever was draining his magic was really putting a dent in his lifestyle.
"Heh, yeah. I guess you've heard all the morbid jokes already." Tootie chuckled.
"I've lived them. So to speak. Anyway, I'm fine now. I just needed some rest, that's all." the brunet returned and managed a small grin, "So, what's up? Anything you want to talk about or is this just a call to be sure I haven't decided to run into the Grim Reaper's arms?"
"I was thinking... about that energy you picked up on in the school. You know... where you died..." Timmy sat up at those words, a serious expression crossing his face.
"What about it? That much negative energy felt like a sting, and I'm kind of surprised that none of the anti-fairies were flocking around it." he murmured.
"That kinda had me worried, too, so I did some looking up on energies being emitted upon death in my books. There was a lot of negativity in your body when you died and it must have been partially released when you fell. Something was making you mad or upset or something at the time you were killed." Tootie explained and Timmy could hear the sounds of pages being turned, "Do you remember anything that could have upset you that day?"
"Not really. And if that was only part of my negative energy, and it sure felt like a lot to me, then where's the rest of it? Where did the rest of that energy go?" he asked worriedly, "I'm a Hero; Heroes don't have darkness or negativity in them! Right?" There was a long silence and Timmy gripped the phone tightly, fear rising in him. No, please, no. "Right? Tootie, I don't have darkness! I'm a good person!" he cried imploringly, "Tell me I'm a good person! I'm a Hero! A Hero!"
"When you attacked Sanjay... and nearly killed Remy... those were signs of darkness... when you let your anger rule you..." Tootie whispered softly, "Timmy, I'm sorry, but everyone has darkness in them. Even Danny Phantom. That's why he is the way he is, I think. Whatever did that to him, it made his darkness win." Timmy got up, pacing nervously as he shook his head.
"No, no, no! He's a good person! He's a Hero and so am I! We don't have darkness! This is just something that was forced on us! I didn't hurt Sanjay, right? Remy didn't get hurt, right?" he babbled.
"Are you afraid of what could happen to you, if you let your darkness win?"
"You don't understand... I could... I have power now... I don't..." he stammered and stopped, taking a deep breath to try to calm himself. No good getting worked up over this.
"It's because of that whole Evil Timmy thing, isn't it?" Tootie questioned softly. Again, Timmy tightened his grip on the phone, eyes wide with shock and horror.
"You... you know? How did you know about... that...?" he croaked out and looked around frantically, imagining cameras and microphones picking up his every word, every motion. The vision of that freakish living room with its massive Death Laser flashed into his mind for the briefest moments.
"Chester told me stories of the day you went crazy in school and beat the crap out of Crocker. You also destroyed several rooms, ripped apart a good portion of the textbooks, started a food fight, mauled a janitor and crammed Francis into the nearest locker with a pair of rats. Or so the rumors went. I was surprised no one called the police on you, though if all of that was true then you probably would have torn into the cops, too."
"It wasn't my fault! Well, not entirely, but...!" Timmy stammered and sighed in defeat, "Look, I don't know why that negative energy was there, but I swore to myself that I would never give in to it. I promised Danny and I promised Cosmo and Wanda. I'm promising it to everyone and... I'll promise it to you." He felt his face grow faintly warm. "I promise... I will never turn bad. Not again."
"Promises can be broken."
"Then can you promise me something?" Timmy asked her softly, gazing out of his window at the city, "If... if I break my promise... will you save the world and stop me? I don't want to hurt anyone... especially you..." There was silence on the other end and he sighed again. "Please, Tootie, this is important. Sam promised Danny; can you promise me?"
"Why would she do that? She's Danny Fenton's girlfriend."
"Never mind why, just tell me if you will."
"All right. I promise I won't let you do anything that could hurt us. But I'm going to make sure you stay a Hero and don't lose against your darkness." She laughed haltingly. "I'll kick your butt if you even think about doing bad things with your magic!" Timmy smiled sadly.
"Thanks. I... I'd better go. I want to see how Danny's doing." he murmured.
"Okay. Take care. G'night, Timmy." Tootie returned softly. She sounded as if she was going to say something more, but she hung up instead and the young immortal set the phone down on the bedside table again.
She knew. That still made his stomach turn. She knew about what he had done as a kid, about that darker side of him. The side of him that scared him as badly as that Dark Danny guy scared his cousin. And yet she was willing to stand by him through it, even face off against him if that slim chance of his dark half reappearing ever came up. He could already picture her in his mind, taking up a battle stance with sword and dagger in hand, glaring him down and daring him to hurl anything in the way of magic at her.
He chuckled. She'd have him gutted open on the street before he could move.
But as pleasant, if not morbid, as the thought was, as strangely appealing it would be to see Tootie stand before him, fully decked out in battle gear, he was still firmly convinced that it would never happen. After all, he was a Hero now, and true Heroes had no darkness. There was no way he could ever fall victim to that kind of corruption, the same way Danny really couldn't be turned evil. Someone had to force it on him, and look how far it got them. His cousin was fighting it off, proof that he was a true Hero and completely in the light. Timmy nodded to himself as he headed for the teleporter disk in the next room over. Yes, that's right. He was a Hero and had no darkness. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.
Archives of the Twin Blades~
Timmy looked around as he walked down the halls of the building. Dozens of androids, some he recognized, others he didn't, wandered from room to room, talking, working, some silent as were their natures. Even though there was a lot of activity, the Archive just seemed eerie. It didn't feel right. Was it because of what was happening with Caleb and Danny?
"Sam! Tucker!" he called out as he made his way to the medical ward, one of few floors in the building that was completely off limits to the public. Caleb often said that the best place to hide Heroes and their help was in plain view, and what plainer view than a public museum? "Hey! Is anyone...?" he began to call again, then halted as he heard voices in one of the rooms of the medical wing.
"I'm sorry. I tried my best, but there wasn't enough power." Caleb's voice murmured sorrowfully.
"You did your part. That is all anyone can ask of you." a second voice put in calmly, "Everything is as it should be."
"No, it's not. But... I suppose... it doesn't matter... I failed to restore him. The Eternal Sword Pin... it shattered... I don't have anything left to help him with." the android sobbed, "I promised to keep him safe, and I failed! My dear Raven, I'm so sorry!"
"We can't give up! There has to be a way to reverse this!" Sam's voice declared fiercely, "Look at how much the Pin was able to fix Danny! Sure, he's still got red on his suit and his eyes and aura are also still red, and so what if Topaz Mode still won't activate; he's getting better and that's what really counts!"
"Yeah! He even responded to his shuttle model! He actually reached for it and put it in his cage instead of trying to blow it up like he usually does!" Tucker exclaimed, "We just have to find another way of fixing ectomana, right, Clockwork?"
"It is already being restored. Don't worry. Danny is under my care as much as he is under yours, Caleb, and more so, considering I dealt with him before you even knew he existed." the other voice, probably the one Tucker called Clockwork, remarked.
"And how, pray tell, is Raven to be restored when the most powerful magical artifact in my possession has become little more than broken trinkets of an age long dead?" Caleb hissed angrily.
"You are letting your emotions rule your logic again. As I recall, there is another way to convert mana, even while in this blended form." the strange voice went on, "And I will take my leave now, as he is currently standing right outside this door and was somewhat late in his arrival." Timmy blinked, startled, then cried out in alarm as the door suddenly opened and he fell into the room with a loud crash. There was a flash of light that vanished just outside his peripheral vision and he got up, rubbing his head with a pained wince as Caleb glared down at him, tears staining the artificial skin on his face.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, "Didn't I tell you to stay in your territory and protect it? Why doesn't anyone listen to me?"
"Hey, Caleb, chill out already, okay?" Sam shot at him as she helped Timmy to his feet, "He's just a kid and he's as worried about Danny as the rest of us!" The android looked taken aback.
"But-!"
"She's right, man. You totally need to take a break or something." Tucker added in, folding his arms over his chest, "If for nothing else than the fact that you are seriously creeping me out over how you keep calling Danny 'Raven' now. It's been four years since you called him that!" Caleb looked at him in surprise as well.
"But-!" he stammered out again and took on a hurt expression, "It's just... it slipped out... I didn't realize..."
"What was going on? Did I interrupt something important?" Timmy asked in confusion, baffled by the tension in the room. The android huffed in sudden indignation and turned up his nose, marching out of the room with all the fury of a scorned ladies' man. "And what's with him?"
"He's just upset about stuff." Sam told him, "Mostly the fact that the Eternal Sword Pin broke and Danny's still stuck in that 'Almost Evil' phase." She gave him a faint smile. "I'm sure he'll snap out of it sooner or later, but in the meantime, he's been doing better. Did you come to visit him?" Timmy nodded dumbly and the two older teens walked with him to the next room.
"I'm sure he'll appreciate a visit from his cousin a lot more than he appreciated that Nasty Burger I brought for him." Tucker remarked with a sigh of exasperation, "It took ages to clean that stuff off the walls!"
"We just have to warn you, though." Sam added to the brunet, "His transformation rings are a little out of control. They keep going off, but they don't change him back to Fenton form. Still, it's a good sign. Anytime they fire, a part of that evil outfit goes away." She finally opened the door and the three of them entered the room to see the glowing prison where Danny Phantom was sealed away.
It was a dome-shaped structure, that much Timmy could figure out right away. It had a translucent blue color to it that stumped him for a moment before it dawned on him that it was the Ghost Shield. Unlike other Shields in the world which were green and only blocked ghosts, this one had a modification to block his cousin's specific ectomana no matter what form he was in, Fenton or Phantom, and was perfect for holding him in place, provided he didn't get irritated and just Ghostly Wailed it to pieces. Which he had done on several occasions before, namely to get out of whatever scheme Caleb had concocted in the way of 'research', though the somewhat controlled explosions were only enough to send Timmy, Cosmo and Wanda rolling away in laughter. The android would throw up his hands in exasperation at the ruined chamber and Danny would be perched on a mostly devastated chandelier, sticking his tongue out at him with all the wizened maturity of a five-year-old.
Oh, the memories.
Within the dome, Danny Phantom sat on his bed sullenly, hands clamped protectively around his shuttle model as he glared out at them warily, his voice still sealed away by the black strip of fabric Sam had crafted out of spiritual magic to block his use of Ghostly Wail. Timmy reached out to the dome and placed his hand on it much the same way Sam had done long before him. The halfa gave him a fiercer stare, almost as though daring him to try breaching the dome and enter his prison.
"C'mon, Cousin Danny, you can beat this." Timmy whispered, the memory of his conversation with Tootie still fresh and haunting in his mind, "Beat the darkness and be the Hero I know you are." He shut his eyes, bringing to his mind's eye the image of his cousin as he was now. Tucker and Sam stepped closer to him, watching him in confusion.
"Dude? What do you think you're doing?" the older techno-geek asked warily. Sam looked at the brunet, then up at the halfa, then back to Timmy before gasping in realization.
"Tucker! Remember what Clockwork said? Something else was changing Danny's ectomana! I think he was talking about Timmy!" she exclaimed in surprise.
The image of his cousin as he had been before, as he remembered, came to Timmy's mind and he clenched his jaw as he forced that image over the one of the corrupted Danny Phantom. He wanted his cousin back, he wanted the darkness in him to leave, to be gone, to be sent away and leave only the pure goodness that was his one and only cousin, Danny Fenton. Immediately, he felt his strength draining away and the distant cries of shock and amazement from the two teens by him, mingled with a soft grunt of pain from his cousin.
Was this why his magical energy had been leeching away? He'd had his cousin in his thoughts all the time, in the back of his mind, trying to place memories of who he really was over the reality of what had become of him. Was he in some way trying to convert Danny back to who he had been? From as far away as he was? Was he that crazy and desperate to get him back?
The images were splitting apart in his mind and he set his focus on forcing them together, whimpering as he fought his rapidly fading consciousness to overwrite the corrupt Danny in his mind's eye with the true one he remembered. He could hear voices telling him both to stop what he was doing and to hang on a little longer, conflicting cries that tried to confuse him. He clenched his fists tightly together, brought them close to his body as he doubled over from the effort of cleansing his cousin. So close; he almost had the image complete in his mind.
"M-Mana..." he struggled to say, a burning hot feeling washing through his body as though trying to incinerate him from the inside out, "M-Mana Revertere!" He let out a scream as the image in his mind shone too brightly for his mind to cope with and a small explosion detonated right before him, hurling him away from the Ghost Shield. He heard his name being cried out, then nothing more as he slammed forcefully against the stone wall of the Archive and collapsed in a heap, fading from awareness once more.
Happy Trails Trailer Park~
It was one thing to have a mobile home bigger than most eighteen-wheelers, but it was another to have the thing with a ten-foot wall surrounding it 'for safety'. Chester huffed in exasperation as he threw his baseball against the brick. It was a nightly routine, one he developed soon after gaining the new home and the massive fence. Once his father, Bucky McBadbat, headed off to bed, still in a state of dumbstruck awe at the fact that some major corporation just handed him a huge new home, a sizable bank account and then tossed in a job to boot for no reason other than his kid was pals with some outsider with friends in high places, Chester would take his ball, bat and mitt, and head outside to relieve tensions the only way he knew how.
Totally messing up at baseball.
Tonight, as it had been for most nights now, he only took his ball and just hurled it against the wall as though the force may someday tear it down and let him see beyond it freely again. Not that he was complaining about his new digs, far from it; he liked the new mobile home. It certainly was roomier than the previous one, which was a very cheap replacement of their first trailer, which had been stolen at the Dimmsdale Science Fair some few years ago by a weird kid with big hair who babbled on about junk Chester really didn't care about and continued insisting he wasn't Timmy. Well, it was obvious now that he wasn't; Timmy couldn't work a welding torch to save his own skin. The wall, however, he could live without, and the desire to tear it down drove him to try bashing it to pieces with the baseball.
He threw the ball again, harder this time, as his mind inevitably jumped to the main reason why he stayed up so late now. It all had to do with a girl and hives. Or rather, a popular girl and his lack of hives. Chester ground his teeth as he stomped towards the ball bouncing away from him. As long as he could remember, he despised girls, didn't want any of them touching him, because the minute they made contact with him, he broke out in a nervous rash that itched like mad and made him want to drag himself through a pile of thorns just to have something else to take his mind off of it.
So when did that go away? When did contact with a girl leave him, not with a bad case of the screaming heebie-jeebies, but a strange fluttering feeling that refused to let go of him, even in the depths of his dreaming?
He halted, frozen in shock as someone else picked up the baseball and held it in one hand. Unblinking, he stared at the ball, then up at the face of his unexpected visitor.
"Hey. Can I ask why you're up so late?" Trixie inquired softly, walking up to him as she juggled the ball in one hand, tossing it up and catching it continuously without much thought to what she was doing. He backed away from her quickly and she stopped, looking at him strangely. "What's with you?" she added in confusion.
"What are you doing here?" Chester blurted out in shock, "It's, like, the freaking middle of the night!" The raven-haired Popular blushed slightly, then took up a nonchalant pose, arms folded over her chest as she held the baseball in her hand.
"Funny, didn't I ask first?" she remarked and smiled as he rubbed his head sheepishly.
"Oh, right. Well, I was just thinking about stuff." the blonde finally returned and gave her a stern look, "Now, you. What the heck are you doing all the way out here? Rich people wouldn't be caught dead on this side of the tracks!" Trixie shrugged vaguely, eyes wandering over the lot, the nearby trash cans, the massive mobile home.
"I just..." she began, flushing warmly as she continued to look at everything else but the teen standing before her with that grim expression. If she looked at him, she wouldn't be sure which she would do first, get embarrassed or laugh at him. He picked the strangest times to get into that Leader mode. "I guess I just wanted to see how you were doing." she finally admitted.
"Me? I'm fine." Chester replied in surprise, then quickly soured, turning away from her to glare at the wall that stared impassively back at him, "I'm not the one who was murdered by some random punk for no good reason while playing like an average, normal kid. Why don't you go play nurse to Timmy? It'll be your big chance to score points with him, right?"
"That's so mean of you to say." Trixie mumbled, digging the toe of her boot into the sod surrounding the mobile home, "I know Timmy can take care of himself. He's got all the power in the world to back him up, I just know it. He's probably at home, cooking up new magic spells or something like that."
"He's just a kid, Tricks, like the rest of us. He's not always in Hero mode." Chester returned icily, "He was exhausted, didn't you pay attention? He could barely walk before Wanda gave him that boost." Trixie winced and held the baseball up as a shield, hiding behind it as she kept her gaze on the ground. "You really don't know him at all." he added and she finally looked up at him, surprised.
"He's the Heart of Dimmsdale, the embodiment of all our hopes and dreams! He's the key to reviving the city, the one who can stop all those other kids from constantly wishing to die to be with him!" she exclaimed, "What more is there to know? If he doesn't get himself together and save us, we're all gonna die!" She clenched her hands into fists, one still gripping the ball tightly as she shook them emphatically. "Timmy has to be the Hero! He's the only one who can do it!"
"You don't know him." Chester repeated softly, "He can be a Hero, but not when everyone and everything's dragging him down. He's just a kid; he needs to be able to just relax and chill without having to constantly worry that if he doesn't do this or act like that, all hell's gonna bust loose on Dimmsdale." He shook his head, "You don't know him, and I guess that means you don't know us, either." The girl blinked at him, puzzled, and he stood before her, arms spread out to his sides. "Different worlds, Tricks. We're the Others, the kids you and your Popular pals shoved around for years because we weren't rich like you, dressed like you, or acted and thought like you. Why would you give up a world you know and have a place in for the one we live in?"
"Well, what's different about you? What makes you better than the Populars?" Trixie demanded.
"That. We don't think we're better than them; we just wanna have fun and hang out with our friends. Have good times and all that junk. More fun than worrying over whether or not we got the newest shirt or how much we spent on a pair of shoes." the blonde remarked evenly and held out his hand, "Now, can I have my ball back? I'm not done thinkin'." Trixie huffed and straightened herself to her fullest height.
"What if I don't want to? You're just an Other; you have no right to tell me what to do!" she declared, glaring back at him. He scowled and she fought the urge to laugh again; honestly, what was the Man Upstairs thinking when this kid was born, to give him such a cute scowl?
"Hey, you gave up your place as a Popular when you joined us, so you can't pull that card on me!" Chester shot back and held his hand out again, "Now, I'm being nice about this, okay? Gimme back my ball so I can get back to knockin' this stupid wall down."
"Make me!" Trixie taunted and stuck her tongue out, then blinking in surprise as the blonde brought himself up to full height as well, standing before her with a strangely intense look.
"You are an Other and I am the Leader of the Others. You will follow my commands, both to survive in this city and to live with the rest of us in peace. You are not exempt from this." he told her in a low tone, "I want my baseball back; you will give it to me. That. Is. An. Order." He held out his hand and she silently placed the ball there, staring up at him in a mix of awe and shock that he actually gave her an order. An order! Like if she wasn't rich and powerful and could pull strings to make his life hell if she so desired! She wrestled up some bravado and pouted at him.
"It's just a ball." she mumbled lamely.
"Thank you." Chester remarked, ignoring her words, and walked away from her, releasing the raven-haired Popular from whatever spell had been cast over her. She blinked rapidly, then shook her head and watched him throw the baseball against the wall again before running up to him.
"Hey! What did you do to me?" Trixie demanded, more than a little frightened by what had taken place. She hadn't felt so powerless before, compelled to respond to someone like some mindless marionette; whatever that was that he did, she was glad that all he wanted was that baseball he was chasing after again. "Chester! Pay attention! What did you do?" she yelled and he finally stopped, grabbing the ball and looking at her in confusion.
"What? What're ya talkin' about?" the blonde returned blankly and she refrained from slapping him upside the head.
"That thing you did." Trixie managed to say with some amount of calm, "Where you told me to give you the ball and I did. What did you do? I felt like I had almost no control over myself." Chester shrugged and threw the ball again.
"Peh, I dunno. I just do it when people don't listen to me. C'mon, I'm just head of the gang 'cuz I don't wanna go to school and see them getting the crap beat outta 'em by some punk who wants to be an ass for no reason." he remarked conversationally, "Wasn't easy, though. At first they were all 'Who died and made you boss?' which just set them and Tootie off to gettin' weepy again and then they'd all leave 'emselves open to attack." He scooped up the ball and rolled it in his hands. "Y'know, 'cuz Timmy had been the Others' leader first and Tootie seemed to have had a thing for him, which she still does apparently, so anytime they said that to me they'd remember him and then we'd all get into a depressed funk. Anyway, so they wouldn't listen to me when I told 'em where it was safe to go or when to run from trouble and stuff like that. So they kept gettin' beat up and I kept gettin' pissed off 'cuz I promised Timmy at his grave that I'd take care of the gang for him." he went on and hurled the ball again, grinning at the satisfying 'Thunk!' of it slamming the brick. "So then this one day, I told them not to go by this one part of Dimmsdale, 'cuz I heard underground that some punks were gonna beat 'em up for kicks when they passed through it and, like usual, they ignored me." Trixie nodded with wide eyes, enthralled by the story.
"So what happened?" she asked, eager to hear the rest.
"Well, they went there and I had to chase after 'em 'cuz they took off without me. I showed up just as they got jumped by the local rats and well..." Chester sighed and held the ball in one hand, frowning down at it, "I wasn't thinking at the time; I just knew I couldn't let them get hurt again, so I ran in and took on the punks by myself. It was like five of them 'gainst one of me, so you can pretty much guess what happened from that." The Popular winced painfully; her imagination filled in the rest for her. Chester shook his head and resumed throwing the baseball again. "Well, when they finished having fun with me and left the bunch of us alone, I turned to the guys and told 'em that they really oughtta pay more attention to what I tell 'em, 'cuz I couldn't afford to keep goin' to the hospital every time they decide to go runnin' off on me even though Dimmsdale has us on that welfare Medicaid crap, but whatever.
"Maybe it was the way I said it or how bad I got beat up in their place, but ever since then they've done exactly what I said when I said it. I don't really remember much about what it is I said or anything, but I know I felt different. Or maybe that was just the concussion talking, I dunno."
"It's a commanding presence." Trixie murmured, "It's not quite the same as what Timmy's got when he's leading us into a fight, but..."
"So why are you here again?" Chester asked blankly, blinking at her as if seeing her for the first time that night. The teen's face fell and she sighed. Why was she in 'like' with this guy again?
"I came to see how you were doing. I told you already." she repeated in exasperation.
"Did you check on the rest of the Others, or am I just special?" the blonde asked absently, tossing the ball again. Trixie blanked on that. How exactly was she to answer that? It was kind of a loaded question and she had no idea how he would react to whatever answer she would give. She could lie, say she had dropped in on the rest of the gang and he was last on the list, and face the possibility that she would lose points with him, and Lord only knows how hard or easy it was to gain points from Chester. It was nearly impossible to regain lost points when it came to Timmy; he wasn't as trusting and forgiving as he used to be.
Or she could be honest, and he might end up getting weirded out by her, instantly losing a ton of points from him and probably getting black-listed by the rest of Team Turner. Though, what were the odds that he would be offended by the idea that she decided to grace him with her presence, him and him alone? The fact that she bothered to wish herself to this park just to check on him -and find herself surprised to see him outside and chucking that baseball against the wall continuously- should have him on his knees and thanking his lucky stars!
But that was before she butted heads with the commanding aura of the true Leader of the Others and came away the loser.
"Hey, did you have a brain-fart or somethin'?" Chester suddenly asked, waving a hand before her face and she reacted to that, slapping it away and blinking in surprise as he yelped and jumped back from her, clutching his hand as though she had burned him viciously. He blinked at his hand, looked puzzled, then quickly recomposed himself. "Ugh. Fine. If it's gone, it's gone. To hell with why or how or when." he muttered under his breath and sighed, "Okay, so I'm perfectly fine, see? What now?"
"I don't know." Trixie replied honestly, grateful for the fact that whatever had startled him obviously made him forget his previous question and spared her the difficulty of answering. She rubbed her arms as the chill of the night fully set in and her lack of movement and heated emotions left her open for the cold. "I guess I should just head back home and get some sleep. We only have, like, three days left before the next Spire attack."
"Yeah, and still no sign of whether Caleb got the armor for Vicky and Chip started or not." Chester sighed as he took off his jacket. He walked up to her and dropped it around her shoulders, "Here. That oughtta keep you warm." He went back to throwing the baseball again. "Anyway, we both better get some shut-eye. We've got a lot of training to do tomorrow to make up for those days in school that we just couldn't make it to the Tower during lunch." He scowled briefly as he finally stopped tossing the ball, "I am really hating that Remy guy for bringing in new traps and junk. Timmy keeps running off to bust 'em up and all we can do is cover the fact that he's doing anything weird on campus."
"Soon enough we'll stop him for good and Dimmsdale will come alive again." Trixie said confidently. After all, the Heart of Dimmsdale was back. But Chester didn't look all that reassured, a faintly evasive expression flickering across his face before disappearing.
"Yeah..." he murmured and then gave her a shy grin. "Want me to walk you home?" he offered. She returned the smile.
"Thanks, but I'll just use a wish. Good-night, Chester." she replied and touched fingers to her pendant.
"'Night, Trixie." the blonde returned once she was safely wished away, then turned and slammed the baseball against the wall one last time with all the force he had. With a dejected sigh, he turned and trudged back into the mobile home.
The streets of Dimmsdale. Buildings soared high above, reaching for the heavens, curving far and away into the distance. Ghosts of people walking down the sidewalks on their daily routine passed by, oblivious in their rituals. The Dark Spires towered with the normal buildings, a full set of eight. Tall, menacing, cruel, then one by one they crumbled, collapsing as though each had been made of ash and a gust of wind touched them in just the right way.
From each broken Spire, a light rose, shining skyward like a beacon, bright and beautiful. The beams curved higher, shimmering a brilliant blue-white. The sky was tinted a rosy pink, and the city was awash with color and life.
"Do you like them?" a voice asked and a familiar boy walked up with a smile, perfectly white teeth displayed openly, proudly, in that happy grin, "Aren't they just the most beautiful sight in the world?" He looked over at the lights and sighed in pleasure, "Such lovely light." After a moment, he relaxed into a casual pose, catching the thumb of one hand into a loop for his belt on his jeans.
"I saved the city, I saved the world, but I still couldn't save myself." he murmured softly, a touch more serious than before. He glanced up, his eyes glittering with emotion. "But that's all right. Because of everything, I know why I exist. I know why I was allowed to escape Death." he added and smiled again, a small grin that showed just the tips and edges of his teeth, "I'm going to lead the world into a new age. The one it truly deserves to have. And these lights are going to help me."
How?
"My life was affected by so many people, but I did some considering and I chose eight people to be my special lights, the same lights that led and shaped my life, my heart." he went on, still watching the beacons, "Every one of them has made a big impact in how I live, how I died, and how I continued after death. They will help me bring the new era to the world. It's why I was given this power, this magic." He laughed lightly. "It's going to be great! You'll see; everyone will get what they deserve for being without me for so long, for being able to go on without the Heart of Dimmsdale."
The new era...
"You're going to help me, too, right? Well, in your own special way. Everyone is going to help me, but only those special few will light my candles for the future." he went on and waved a hand carelessly up at the beacons, "One for each of them. I wanted it to be... symbolic." They continued gazing at the light before he suddenly gasped and held a hand to his heart, clutching his shirt as soft, strangled cries of distress fell from his mouth.
What's wrong? Worry, concern, panic; no, no, no...!
"I... I'm okay...!" he finally gasped and coughed, "It's okay... Just something that comes up now and then..." His breathing normalized and he straightened, exhaling slowly in relief. "Sorry." he apologized with a shy smile, a beautiful smile, "Never-ending battle; I promise I'll do something about it when I get the chance." He looked back up at the light.
"But first, let's do something about the Spires. After all, if they stay up, I won't be able to fulfill my destiny." he whispered, "To show the world, the whole world..."
A/N: I leave it up to your imagination who it was that was having the dream. I know who it is, but that's my little secret. :3
I'm not sure when exactly Chester developed his unique 'ability'. It just kind of manifested over the duration of me writing the Burning Black series, but this is the first time he's been called out on it.
Those who have been reading Netherworld Nightmare will see the return of Caleb calling Danny 'Raven', which he stopped doing when the events of Phantom Planet took place. I'll probably post that later so you get the full explanation as to why Caleb stopped.
There's a lot of clues here as to what's gonna happen in the future. Let's see if you can catch them all...