What Power

"What do you mean you gave Mr. Lancer that raise?"

Me, Tucker and Sam were now seated at the cafeteria. All humor had left when I realized what I accidentally had done; nothing but drama remained.

"I was thinking nonsense, just this and that," I explained. After the thing with Dash I had made an oath that these two and Jazz were the only people I would talk to at least until my head was back on straight. "I thought Mr. Lancer should have a raise. Not a second later, he gets a raise." The others still looked skeptical, so I continued. "This whole thing going on has something to do with a new power right?" They nodded. "Well we have been waiting for some kind of 'power' to appear and here it is."

"Your power is giving people raises?" asked Tucker.

I glared at him. Then my thoughts from before hit me. "Is your real name Tucker or is it a nickname?"

Tuck didn't even blink at the out-of-the-blue questgen, he had been answering them for almost two weeks now. "It's my real name. My parents wanted to be unique. But back to the matter at hand." Tucker plowed on. "We need more than just one occurrence. Has anything else strange magically happened when you thought it?"

I gave a deadpanned look. "I kissed Dash earlier because I thought we were dating. And you're asking if I remember something strange happening?"

Tucker grimaced. "I suppose you are right. Even if you saw or did something weird you probably wouldn't know whether it was real or not."

I slumped in my seat. How was this my life? One second I was superhero Danny Phantom, the next I couldn't tell what was real or what my brain made up.

"What about that sucker?" Sam asked.

"What sucker?" I asked.

"After Dash you had a sucker in your mouth."

"Probably to wash out the taste of failure," Tucker snickered.

"No Tucker. I mean I was right next to him, he never pulled one out or unwrapped it. It just appeared. I am pretty sure his mouth was even stained the color of the sucker. That can't happen in a second time frame."

We all pondered that for a second. Well they did, I fell into another four memories, each one involving suckers or sucking in some way. One got quite dirty.

"Danny!" my two lovely friends called out to me. "What's wrong, man?"

I could feel myself blushing up a storm. "Nothing," I choked out. "I just got an X-rated memory." Both Tucker and Sam immediately caught on and blushed.

I said bowing my head picking at my food trying to keep my mind from drifting back to the memory that I could feel playing out somewhere in the back of my mind. I failed miserably as eight more memories (each one more inappropriate than the last) unraveled in my mind. All I could do was push my food away, burrow my head into my arms and try not to whimper at the images, sensations, and FEELINGS that played out in my mind.

Time and space were distant things as the memories assaulted me. I say memories but really it was like I was living it. I felt, smelt and breathed everything. In that moment the 'memory' was real life that I was living. Then the next one would come and I would forget the old and this new one was reality. And then came a third and a fourth. Normally, the memories would slow and stop and I would come back to my mind and remember some of who I was and what I was doing. It didn't happen this time though. This time I kept switching. Once I had gone through the eighth, I would go back to number one and pick up right where I'd left off. My mind jumped and jumped and jumped. I was him. No, him. No, her. No, them. One after another, after another, after another. Even after the X rated activities ended the 'memories' continued and I continued switching between them.

I was married, escaped my capture, hid my relationship from everyone. I loved. I died. I gave birth. I was a child, I was a teen, I was an adult, I was a ghost. I was a dragon, I was a werewolf, I was human. A hand landed on my shoulder.

Opening my eyes, I looked up at Sam confused. This was the worst part. Now all those memories collided. Now that I remembered everything I had just seen, witnessed, become, and lived through, all at once. Now I had to shift through it and try to decide what was real.

"We need to go to class, Danny," Sam said softly. Wait, Sam was dead. What class? We were too old for school. What school would take our kind?

With Tucker and Sam's help I was able to stand and walk down the hall. By the time we reached our lockers I remembered my condition. I remembered what was happening. But the small details. They still got me.

"Where is my journal?" I asked. I always had it on me. It helped when I was confused.

"We don't know Danny." Tucker said calmly. "No one could find it this morning."

"Oh," I said.

Both Tucker and Sam whispered facts to me as we walked, but once class started their voices went silent and I was left with the turning memories.

"Mr. Fenton," came a sharp voice.

I opened my eyes tiredly. "Yes," I said quietly, not sure if this was real.

The person I assumed was my teacher narrowed her eyes in disapproval. I stared back at her uncaring. I was well behind that point. "Do you mind reading the sentence on the board?" she said.

My eyes went to the sentence written in another language on the chalkboard. Chalkboard. Who used chalk nowadays? Everything was whiteboard now.

"Mr. Fenton," called the teacher.

I shook my head and read what was on the board. The teacher seemed to freeze. "That's right," she said astonished. I lowered my head into my desk, not caring about anything except bracing myself against the avalanche of languages that were crushing me as they all tried to force their way into my head all at once.

Voices of all kinds swirled around me. Whispers, shouts, screams, complements, insults, burns, Latin, Esperanto, Russian, old-timey-English, high class vocabulary, weird slang, boys, girls, old, young, they spun around me again and again and again.

The hand on my shoulder shook me slightly. Wincing at the movement, I sluggishly raised my head to meet concerned eyes. "Are you alright Mr. Fenton?"

"No." I said plainly. Moving to cradle my head in my hands.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"Head hurts," I choked out

"We'll take him to the nurse's office," came two familiar voices perfectly in synch with each other. That was as far as I got when it came to identifying them. The teacher's words were washed away in the ocean of voices.

Before I knew it, I was being led somewhere, two people on either side of me. They were keeping me steady as they guided me through the halls. Instead of taking me to the nurse, we came to a locker. The two were talking, but I couldn't hear them over the voices. One of them gave me some pills and a bottle of liquid. Without even thinking twice about it, I downed both.

Leaning against the lockers I waited for the pills to take effect. It was an agonizing process. First the pain faded away and all I could do was ride out the voices until they were out of my system. Slowly the voices began to fade and I opened my eyes to two concerned friends.

"How do you feel man?"

"Better," I said smiling gratefully

"It's the last period of the day, you want to skip it?" asked Sam calmingly as she rubbed my back.

I paused a minute. I really did hate missing school but I'm pretty sure I had a valid excuse this time, so I nodded.

"Do you think you can stand a trip to the mall on our way back to Fentonworks?" asked Tucker

"Tucker I told you before, we are going straight home, waiting for Jazz, and then go to the Ghost Zone."

"What is the difference between waiting at home and waiting in the mall, seriously?"

"The difference is he doesn't have to act like nothing's wrong."

"But if we get a new journal then we can make it till Friday."

"He can't handle it Tucker."

"The ecto-pain pills will last for 6 hours, that's long enough to get a new journal and rewrite everything. It's just a day, Sam, one day. If he can make it that long then instead of Phantom and Fenton leaving the same day, it is three days apart."

Sam bit her lip in contemplation. "I don't think this has anything to do with the journal Tucker."

"Oh and his condition just happens to get worse the day he loses it." Tucker scoffed. " It's definitely the journal. It's worth a shot right?"

I was only partially understanding what was going on but I understood that they were talking about hiding my secret identity. "I can handle a trip to the mall," I spoke up.

Both friends turned to me. "Are you sure Danny? You seemed really out of it back there."

Back where?

I gave Sam a fake smile. "It's okay, and Tucker is right, the pills will last long enough to pick something out, and it won't take too long. Promise."

Sam's mouth thinned. "…Okay."

-0-

This was a bad idea. The sun is too bright, the cars are too loud. Everything is too much.

"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Tucker, even he was looking concerned. We were a block from the mall… I'm pretty sure.

I threw him the best smile I had: "I can to it."

Neither friend looked convinced but they knew that I was too stubborn to bend. It is just a trip to the mall. We've done it lodes of times and I could do it once more. For my secret. For my sanity, I could do this.

That's not to say Tucker and Sam let go of me, for which I am eternally grateful. Everything I saw erupted into a memory. A lamp post, a bird, a bench. Everything led to a memory, that led to a story, that led to a life, that led to a world.

I can't do this.

But we're already in the mall parking lot

My head hurt..

I can do this…

…No I can't

Okay, no matter what, it's going to be another six blocks… or is it eight… to get home. I might as well take a break at the mall and get the journal before having to endure the journey home.

I can do this. I can do this.

The mall is even louder. So many people talking and moving around.

'Barnes and Noble'. That was a bookstore that sold journals. It would be quiet there.

As I walked inside, I braced for relief. Instead things got louder and louder, every title of every book, every picture on a cover, every author name. What is wrong with me? It could not be this loud in a bookshop, someone would have done something by now.

My eyes landed on 'Catcher and the Rye'. I read that book for English class. My eyes fell on a book that reminded me of something in Clockwork's tower.

Oh no. The noise wasn't coming from the people around me, it was coming from the memories.

The river had risen so I was no longer hanging off a cliff but clutching to the rock as the river tried to rip me off of it and pull me away. My handhold is crumbling. My sense of reality is slipping, I can feel it.

An elbow jabbed me. I turned to Tucker as he pointed to the back of the store were journals were sold. "Come on let's get something and get out of here."

I roll my eyes and follow my friend to the back. Why Tucker of all people was interested in journals was beyond me. Maybe he wanted it as a present or something. It had better not be for me. Jazz gave me one of those things ages ago and has been hounding me to write in it since she found out my secret. I cross my arms and eye the collection of journals with a bored expression. Yeah, writing down all of my world-destroying secrets for any idiot to read was not appealing.

-)(-

Do you hate me yet?

And just a note for anyone who may find Danny pushing himself like this stupid and pointless…

You're right. It is stupid and pointless, but at this point it is how Danny thinks. He is a superhero. He has had to muscle through so much c^ p by now that he is just used to dealing with s#!t. It's horrible but he is so used to suffering that he doesn't even consider the better, safer, and smarter option until it is too late.

I do not own 'Danny Phantom' or 'Barnes and Noble'