When Danny woke up, his hands were cuffed in front of him, but his legs were free. He pushed himself into a sitting position, and for a moment, he thought the motion was going to make him sick. His head spun.

After a moment, he trusted himself enough to open his eyes again. Disorientating darkness still cloaked the entire room. Or whatever this was. All he could feel was cool metal beneath him, and he wasn't up for exploring beyond that quite yet.

"Please," he whispered, "just let me go."

His voice echoed back at him.

He forced his eyes back open—when had they closed?—and slowly looked around, but he couldn't even see a different level of darkness, something lighter than the rest. No windows, wherever this was. Maybe no doors, either, considering he was dealing with a ghost. He'd seen them pass through solid objects; it might not be too difficult for them to take something—or someone—with them.

"Hello?"

The word came back too quickly.

Wherever he was, it couldn't be terribly large.

Danny forced himself to his feet, hands stretched out in front of him, and slowly turned. No walls. That was good. Not too small of a space, then. But a couple staggered steps to the right and he did hit a wall, also metal. He trailed his hands along the vertical ripples, carefully searching the darkness with one foot before stepping forward. Ten steps took him to another wall, but it was only three from there until the next one, and—

"You can't get out on your own."

Danny spun, regretting it even as he searched for the taunting voice of his captor. The ghost had to be invisible. In darkness this complete, their ghostly glow would burn like the sun.

"But, please," they said dryly, still speaking in a perfect mimic of Jazz's voice, "do keep trying. I could use the entertainment."

"Why won't you let me go?"

"Oh, you already know that," they replied, and he could hear the smile in their voice. "You haven't given me what I want."

He wanted to cry. He didn't…. He couldn't…. Danny blinked back tears, leaning against the wall for support, and said nothing.

"But don't worry. We have plenty of time for that. No one's searching for you here."

No one was searching for him here. But they were still searching? The ghost hadn't managed to carry out their plan to make it seem like he was still around? What would have made him change it?

Danny was doing a dismal job of keeping the hope off his face, but he didn't think ghosts could see in the dark. Most of them, anyway. But with a shapeshifter, who knew? If they could change every part of their body, couldn't they make eyes that could see in the dark? Was there even enough light for that in here if they could?

"You'll be happy to know I brought you a pail this time," they added, their voice suddenly softer and speaking right into his ear. He jerked back, knocking his head on the wall and wincing. Over the pounding in his head, he could still hear them talking to him. "I'm not a complete monster, whatever your parents say. Not that they're saying much about ghosts when they think you ran away all on your own."

"I hate you." The words didn't come out nearly as strong as he would've liked. He licked his parched lips with a thick tongue and poured more venom into his words. "I hate you! You can't do this to me! Someone's going to figure this out and save me!"

"You better hope they don't," the ghost countered, "if you really care about them. Ta-ta, kiddo."

Danny sunk slowly to the floor, not bothering to bite back his sobs this time. How could he have messed up this much? If he hadn't been too scared to tell his parents what was going on, maybe they could've figured out a way to stop this from happening before that thing had come through. Or maybe, if he'd figured out how to fight back more, even though he was fighting a ghost, maybe, just maybe—

"Yeesh, I never thought that crazy cat would leave."

Danny started and looked up. He squinted as much at the sudden light as through the blur of tears, and he lifted his arms to try to wipe the wetness away. Sidney Poindexter's ghostly glow was enough to light up his prison—a shipping container, from the looks of it, with the promised pail in the far corner. Danny was suddenly glad he was too dehydrated to need it right now. "You came back?" he croaked.

The ghost shrugged and rubbed at one arm. "Once I found you again. You called me through for help. Least I can do is help you, even if you don't want me to."

"I do. I'm sorry."

"Water off a duck's back," Sidney said dismissively as he moved to hover closer to Danny. He pointed at the cuffs. "Like I said, I can't get you out of those. You're gonna have to try."

"Just because my parents make these, doesn't mean I carry a key with me, so how am I supposed to do that?"

"But you shouldn't…." Sidney drew back, then lowered himself so he was sitting opposite Danny. "You're the gatekeeper. You don't need a key."

Danny stared at him. He didn't want to get into another argument with the only ghost—the only being—who could help him right now, but Sidney was making that awfully hard. "Just because I called you through, whatever that means, doesn't mean I can get out of a pair of Fenton Cuffs without a key. I can't will them open or whatever."

Sidney snorted. "Who said anything about willing them open? Telekinesis isn't common enough for me to make that assumption."

You did too say that, Danny almost retorted, but he hadn't, not really. And he didn't really want to think about the fact that telekinetic ghosts existed when it meant he might meet one of them sooner rather than never, which was preferable. Instead, he asked, "How else am I supposed to get them open? Or off? And if you try to say something about dislocating my thumb, I don't even know how to do that."

Sidney raised an eyebrow. "Blast 'em? Freeze 'em? Burn 'em? Whatever you can do. I don't know what powers you control."

"I don't have powers to control."

"But you're the gatekeeper."

"Will you stop calling me that? It doesn't mean anything! I don't have powers!"

Sidney cocked his head and let out a low whistle. "You really believe that, don't you?"

Danny officially hated this conversation.

Just…not as much as he hated being kept captive by a shapeshifting ghost who had threatened to hurt the people he loved and wouldn't have any qualms about doing that.

Sidney straightened up, rising to a standing position with a fluidity Danny was pretty sure only a ghost could achieve. "Hard way it is, then. You ready to beat feet?"

Danny was pretty sure that meant leave, so he nodded. "How are you going to get me out of these?" He held up his arms for emphasis.

Sidney shook his head. "Those'll have to stay on. Them and me? Won't mix. I could drag you through a wall, but I couldn't drag them through a wall, and I can't drag you through them, so you'd be stuck. This'll have to be the old-fashioned way. I'll open the door, and then I gotta split before the shifter comes back and finds me. You'll have a bit of a drop, nothing you can't survive, but then you'll need to cut out before you're seen." He paused. "Don't go home."

Danny's heart sank. "Why not? My parents can help me."

Sidney pointed to the floor. "I've been around for a bit. Listening. Wouldn't trust that shifter as far as I could throw them. Till you're ready to rattle, I wouldn't call that snake in for a fight."

"My parents have weapons," Danny said, but he'd already tried that. He wasn't sure which weapons worked. "They could…. They'll help me. We can fight this guy."

"Fastest way to end up fighting each other. They're a shifter." Sidney spread his hands. "But if you think you'll be able to tell…."

They both knew he couldn't, so Danny let his shoulders sag in defeat. "I can't just run away. I don't have any money, and I'll need food and water." And a place to sleep, and probably medical attention, and—

"So hide in the last place they'll look for you."

"But I don't know where that is!"

"Anywhere you wouldn't normally hang."

Danny still didn't know where that would be, but he'd rather figure that out somewhere that was not here. "Okay, fine, whatever. I'm ready. I'll just…. I'll figure something out." He forced himself to his feet again. "Thanks."

"Thank me once you're safe. I'll find you. If you're any good, that won't be easy."

"Thanks," Danny repeated, but Sidney had already phased through the door. Darkness descended again, but the shipping container was nearly empty, so Danny didn't find it too difficult to make his way forward. And when the door cracked open, bringing with it fresh air and the dim light of—dawn? Dusk? He wasn't sure yet—Danny moved faster.

Sidney was gone to Danny's eyes when he made it to the edge, but he didn't need the light of Sidney's ghostly glow to see the drop. It was dusk, the sun sinking low beyond the edge of town, and there was still enough light around for him to see that he was at the docks.

And that his shipping container was perched on top of another shipping container. That was, what, eight feet down? With packed gravel below? It wouldn't be so bad if he had full use of his arms and could hang over the side before dropping, but just jumping?

"Sidney?" Danny called as loudly as he dared. "Can you maybe, um, fly me down or something?"

Silence.

Well, he had said he wasn't going to stick around. Danny knew he shouldn't be surprised. Sidney was scared of the shapeshifter, and Danny couldn't blame him. To be fair, he wasn't sure why Sidney was scared—it wasn't like he still had living relatives to worry about, did he?—but Danny was willing to take any amount of help that Sidney offered.

Didn't mean he didn't wish that would have constituted more help than just opening a door, though.

Danny moved so that he was sitting with his legs dangling over the side. He just needed to push himself off, fall into the gravel, and try not to break every bone in his body. Easy. "C'mon, you can do this," he said to himself, but it wasn't much of a pep talk. Sidney might be confident the fall wouldn't kill him, but that didn't mean he wouldn't break a leg or something, and—

"This would be so much easier if I could fly."

Except he couldn't, because his only superpower was apparently coughing up vaguely helpful, completely random, or straight up evil ghosts.

Danny hesitated for longer than he should have, biting his lip and trying to will himself to just push off and fall. His heart thundered in his chest, terror of being discovered battling with terror of the drop and what escaping now would mean for his family and friends. He wasn't even sure how to save himself. How did he expect to save them? If he stayed, they'd be safe enough for now, but later—

They wouldn't be safe later.

No one would be safe later.

He had to try.

"I'm going to regret this," Danny muttered, and he meant to lean forward. To fall. To escape. But a split second of teetering forward had him throwing his weight backward, trying to save himself. He couldn't make himself drop that far on purpose. He just…. He was scared.

He was trying to escape from what was very probably a homicidal ghost, and he was scared of falling.

Why couldn't Sidney come back? It would've been so much easier if he'd just flown Danny down to the ground. Or flown him anywhere. Really, Danny wasn't about to be picky. He'd even be willing to be flown into a different shipping container, as long as it wasn't this one, where the shifter ghost had left him.

Danny rolled over onto his stomach. "I'm going to regret this," he mumbled again, wiggling closer to the edge. First it was just his feet hanging over the edge, then his knees, and then…. "I'm going to regret this, I'm going to regret this, I'm going to—"

He couldn't help but scream when he lost the battle with gravity.

Scream, and wish fervently that he could fly, or at least that he would stop falling.

He shut his eyes, hoping he didn't break too many bones when he landed—or, if he did, that it wouldn't hurt as much as he was imagining. Maybe adrenaline would keep the pain away for a while. That would be nice. That would…not explain why he hadn't hit the ground yet.

Had Sidney caught him? Or, far worse, had the shapeshifter ghost come back? Except he couldn't feel anyone's arms….

Danny opened his eyes and closed his mouth, not fully aware when realization had startled him into silence. He was…floating. That was the only way to explain it. He'd just stopped, mid-fall. More easily than he'd anticipated, Danny twisted so his feet were pointed toward the ground. That meant he was only a few inches above the gravel, and—

Gravity reasserted itself, and he fell back to the earth. He wasn't ready for it and still ended up on his knees, but the suddenness was more jarring than the impact with the ground. He…. How had that—?

You're powerful, the shifter had said, and Sidney had said much the same, hadn't he? I don't know what powers you control.

Powers.

Did he really have—?

The door above him creaked on its hinges, reminding Danny that he needed to move, and he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled into a run without looking back. His sneakers scraped against the dirt and occasionally skidded on loose gravel, but he managed to keep his footing. His panting was easily loud enough to give himself away if anyone was around, but….

But the shifter hadn't caught up to him yet, and he had to keep going so that they didn't. The lack of obvious tracks would work in his favour, and he'd have to keep out of sight once he made it out of the docks. The industrial end of town would be all but abandoned at night. There were no crowds to blend into. That kinda worked in his favour, though. He couldn't look great right now, and the cuffs would draw attention if his injuries didn't.

And the shapeshifter could become anyone.

Danny kept running, concentrating more on moving than where he was going, and tried to keep all other thoughts out of his mind.

He'd…he'd have to figure out what had happened, but he didn't have time to do that now.

He needed to get somewhere safe first.

And to do that, he just needed to run.