Chapter Eighteen

CW: Depression, suicidal thoughts

Danny sat on the couch, his legs tucked up to his chest and his chin resting on his knees as he stared out the window. His parents called a family meeting after dinner to discuss what his Dad learned from a woman they used to know from college that researched liminals. Apparently, Danny was probably going to die young (haha, too late, he thought darkly) and it sounded like Vlad was going around murdering liminals.

Not that his parents said that last bit, exactly. They would never realize it was Vlad, not without his help, and he wasn't about to point his finger at the man who thankfully still seemed oblivious to what he was. He didn't really get why Vlad was doing it. Maybe he worried that if someone kept learning more about the ghosts and other liminals, then they might figure out what he was, too. Maybe he just hated knowing that there were others out there like him, or maybe . . . well, he could go in circles for hours trying to figure it out. The why didn't matter to Danny much, and the likelihood that he could convincingly make a case for it being Vlad behind the murders was slim at best. The man was excellent at covering his tracks, and who knew how long it was since the last one was killed? Danny wasn't too worried about becoming one of Vlad's victims, either, even though he could tell his parents were scared about someone trying to hurt him. Despite Vlad's experience, Danny definitely beat him when it came to sheer power, and he doubted the man would try to kill him as long as he still wanted to marry his Mom.

He knew he should react to what his parents were saying. Should be surprised, shocked, sad, or something, but Danny felt hollow. Empty. Everything was a mess now, ever since the sleepwalkers. He felt intensely hungry, but nothing he ate seemed to satisfy him anymore, and unlike before the fight he was pretty sure he knew why. The only moment he felt any satisfaction was after he consumed those dreams he stole from Nocturn. The urge to do it again made him sick, his obsession curling in on itself since he wasn't supposed to consume but protect, but it didn't stop him from wanting it, from some tiny part of his brain arguing that it was fine because they would be protected, within him, a monster powerful enough to keep such precious things safe . . .

"You okay, Danny?" asked Jazz, gently putting a hand on his back.

"I guess." No. He didn't know how to be okay again. He thought after he changed back at Tucker's that everything would go back to normal, that he would feel better, but he didn't. And Tucker and Sam still hadn't so much as called or texted. With school canceled all week, there was no opportunity to even try to talk to them in person. He saw the horror in Sam's eyes, the discomfort in Tucker's even as he could tell they were trying. He knew they told him that they wanted a few days, and yet the longer he went without hearing from them, the more he began to wonder if he pushed them too far. His mind drifted back to the weapons in the locker in the Ops Center, wondering again if that was his only real option, but he pushed the thought away. If nothing was left of him but a ghost, especially right now, then it would lead to nothing but pain for everyone else as he became exactly the kind of monster his parents feared.

His family shared a worried glance, clearly expecting a bigger response from him, but he didn't have the energy. Eventually, maybe, he would get used to eating human food again, leaving the creepy dream eating to Nocturn, but for now the desire to eat something he should never, ever want still pulled. Hard. He hadn't transformed into Phantom again since that day, either, too terrified the urge would only be stronger in his ghost form, or that his Hazmat suit might not come back this time. The damage from the fight with Skulker repaired itself so there was no reason to assume the suit wouldn't come back, yet he found himself terrified it would be gone and that his monstrous self would be on full display for everyone to see.

"Danny?" said Mom.

"Sorry," he mumbled, realizing she said something and he missed it. He couldn't focus right now. He shouldn't be trying to talk about this, about anything with them.

"We think we can modify the specter deflector to not shock you," Mom said, looking worried he might break if she said the wrong thing. He shouldn't have told her about his nightmares earlier. He was too tired to think straight. Too hungry. "So you could have more protection."

"No." She wasn't asking, but he didn't care.

"It's not optional, son," said Dad. "We're not going to let you put yourself at risk."

"The ghosts that know me will know exactly what that is," said Danny, "and they won't react well. I'm more likely to get hurt if I wear it than if I don't. And I don't want to get shocked if you're wrong and you can't fix it."

"Danny–" began Mom, but he couldn't do this anymore. Danny stood up and walked out of the room, heading up the stairs before they could say another word. Distantly, he heard Jazz explaining that they dumped a lot on him, he probably just needed some space, that it was reasonable for him to be scared of being shocked after his accident, that he'd come around . . .

He flopped onto his bed, shoving his pillow over his head as he desperately tried to shut it all out, but as he closed his eyes he heard Nocturn's voice echoing in his mind. 'Nothing but nightmares, no matter how deep I went. Have you no dreams, liminal child?'

Danny hadn't given it much thought during the fight, too focused on dealing with the threat, on protecting his identity, which ultimately he screwed up anyway by telling Sam and Tucker the truth. And despite the horror Nocturn inflicted, nobody mentioned it half as often as the strange, ghostly wail he'd used to defeat him, a scream that echoed throughout the city and that was the only thing that could rouse the dreamers out of their slumber.

A scream that sounded so much like the one that echoed within the walls of the portal as he died.

There was a knock on his door frame but he ignored it. From the sound it was probably Jazz. His Mom rarely knocked, and his Dad's fist sounded like lightning splitting the door frame no matter how gentle he tried to be. He hoped she would go away, but he heard her footsteps as she entered the room and then the weight on his bed as she sat down beside him.

"I changed my mind about what I'm going to study in college," she said suddenly, and it was odd enough that Danny peaked out at her from beneath his pillow.

"What?"

"Well, technically, I only kind of changed it. I'm still doing psychology, but I'm going to do a double major in ecto science since the field of ecto psychology doesn't really exist yet. Kind of cool that I get to create it," she said, leaning down so she could see him beneath the pillow. "I'm going to be at Amity Community College, too. At least until I go for my doctorate."

"So you'll be home?" he mumbled, and she nodded. "Great." He pulled the pillow back down over his head, idly wondering if it would be possible for him to smother himself, but made no attempt to do so. He wouldn't kill himself, even if his family seemed pretty convinced he was a step away from doing so. Not as long as there was any chance that he would leave nothing but a dream eating ghost behind. "Nice to know you have dreams."

"Well, it's your fault," she said, and he peeked out from the pillow again, curious despite himself, a tiny sense of satisfaction in his core at her words. "I've seen you a few times with the ghosts now, Danny, and you're right. Mom and Dad's method isn't the only way. It's probably not even the best one. And I want to help the ghosts, too. And you."

A chill ran through him, and he pulled the pillow off his head completely as he sat up, wondering what she meant. What she knew. "What?"

"You're good at what you do, Danny, but you can't do it alone," she explained, and he felt the relief wash over him. Oh. Of course. She didn't know. Not about that. Tucker and Sam didn't tell her. "There are too many ghosts. But they're here to stay, I think, and although there are times when I hate this town, I love it, too. I hope–well, I know you've got a couple of years of school left, but maybe if my program works out, then maybe you could do it, too."

"I don't want to be a therapist, Jazz."

"Then what do you want to be?"

'Have you no dreams, liminal child?'

What did he want? His mind was so full of nightmares now, his hope to join NASA and see space were gone. He threw himself into protecting Amity Park, into stopping the ghost attacks so much that it didn't leave room for anything else, didn't give him time to dwell on a future he couldn't and wouldn't have. Even if they chose to stick by him, Sam and Tucker would eventually go off to college, leaving him alone while he continued to deal with the ghosts. He would never be able to hold down a job, never be able to have a family or any real relationships as he found himself forced to forever keep part of himself a secret. And he couldn't risk the ghosts finding out he and Phantom were one and the same. Sid took it well, but he doubted Ember or the Lunch Lady or any of the others would if they learned the truth about him. No doubt they'd feel manipulated and hurt, and Danny couldn't really blame them since even though he'd grown to genuinely like and care for them, to see them as his friends, he knew it started as something less altruistic.

A tiny part of him suggested that it didn't have to be this way. That he didn't have to sacrifice everything, that Sam and Tucker could accept him and his family could, too. That he had managed to resist the pull of his obsession, that he could be more than he was now just as he believed the other ghosts could be, but he struggled to believe it given how awful he felt. And now he wanted to consume the dreams of others, too, something Danny realized then that he only started to crave in the last month or so after he finally gave up quite literally everything, including his own dreams and hopes for a better future.

"Danny?"

"I don't know what I want to be," said Danny slowly as a dangerous plan occurred to him, but he had to take the risk. He couldn't keep going. Not like this. "But there is something you could help me with."

"Name it," she said, no hesitation whatsoever, and he smiled. Hopefully neither of them would regret this.

"Can you get Dad and Mom out of the house with you for an hour?"

"Like right now?" He could see the uneasiness there, the concern about leaving him alone, and while he knew what she was thinking he would do, he doubted she would like his actual plan much better.

"Yeah. Like say we got a call about a ghost attack or something? Or that maybe you figured out that the one thing that would cheer me up would be ice cream from Nikki's Diner across town or something?"

"Would that cheer you up?" Danny gave a half-shrug, and Jazz tugged on her hair, shifting on the edge of the bed. "I can come up with something, Danny, but you have to tell me why."

"I need to talk to Nocturn," he said, "without anyone else here."

"Oh, no, Danny, Phantom said he's incredibly dangerous. Mom and Dad aren't even sure the containment field downstairs will hold him if he escapes from the thermos based on the power readings they got from the Ops Center," said Jazz. "It's a bad idea, Danny. Even for you."

"Please, Jazz."

"I thought you wouldn't go near the lab after your accident."

"I lied. Obviously. Please?" he begged. "You said you would."

"That was before I knew what you were asking for," she said, watching him carefully. "Why do you want to do this?"

"I–I can't explain it." At least, not without his sister freaking out that her brother had turned into a dream eating monster. "But I need to do it. Please."

He knew he had her when she stood up and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "Okay. I'll do it. I can't promise an hour, but I'll get them out of the house for as long as I can. But please be careful, Danny."

"Thank you," he whispered, amazed she agreed, and he sat there in silence, hugging his knees while he waited. Eventually he heard the front door and the GAV start up, and his phone buzzed as Jazz sent a text.

'We're leaving now. Good luck. Please be careful.'

Jumping to his feet, he silently walked down to the lab, taking a minute to confirm that everyone was gone. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he took a moment to breathe as he felt the tug from the portal. It was always there, had been since he first came home after his accident, and while it grew easier to ignore when he was in the rest of the house, when he was this close the pull was much stronger. It wasn't cruel or immobilizing, but instead felt like a parent calling to him to embrace him, to make him feel safe and whole and protected.

But while the Ghost Zone itself seemed to welcome him, most of the ghosts despised Phantom, and through the portal lay only misery.

Pushing it out of his mind, he lowered the containment field for a minute to grab the thermos. He stared at it for a few seconds, wondering if he was making a mistake, but he didn't have a better option. He needed answers. He needed help, and with a deep breath, he put the containment field back up and then inserted the thermos into the slot on the side. "Okay, here goes," he whispered as he pushed the button to release Nocturn, and within seconds the ghost materialized in front of him.

The ghost was much smaller, his power reduced thanks to Danny's theft, and he stared at Danny coolly through the field. "Liminal child," he said. "Release me."

"I might be willing to do that," said Danny as he grabbed a chair and sat down in front of him, "but you have to answer some questions for me first."

"I am as old as humanity, liminal child," he laughed. "Do you think that will work? I have no doubt you will insist I answer your questions and then leave me within that infernal device."

"You clearly don't know me as well as you think," said Danny. "I've been told I don't have a good self-preservation instinct. More than once, even. I'll let you go if you help."

"It is not about you, child, but your family. You fear putting them within my power again. I can sense that much, even in here," said Nocturn. "I will not answer your questions."

Danny pressed his thumb down into the mark on his palm, swallowing as he considered what he was doing, but he had no choice. He didn't use ghost speech often. He told Sam and the others the truth, that using it was different than ordinary speech, that it required exposing a part of himself. The echoes and noise within it, the sounds, were echoes of his own death, of the pain and fear and loneliness and obsession that had been drummed into his core as the portal killed him. To use it was to be vulnerable, to show his whole self in a way that ordinary humans could never understand. He found that when he used ghost speech, he couldn't lie. That his promises carried more weight. And as he spoke to Nocturn, his eyes glowed softly in the dim light of the lab, the words echoing and full of static and noise that sounded like the humming of electricity through high powered lines. "Please. Answer my questions and promise not to harm those within my haunt again, and I promise I will release you."

"I will free myself, in time," said Nocturn. "Your offer to free me is too small compared to what you are asking from me in return."

"I'll give you my true name, too," he said, still using ghost speech. He winced internally. He had kept it secret for a long time. There was a danger in giving anyone his true name, particularly ghosts or liminals who could actually use it to harm him or summon him or bind him, but he was desperate. And this was something Nocturn couldn't have. True names had to be freely given. They could not be stolen or perceived or taken, even in dreams. "In return for promising not to harm those within my haunt again and your release. Please. I–I don't know what else to do. I have nothing else left and nothing else I can offer you."

Nocturn stared at him, some mixture of pity and sympathy in his gaze, before he nodded, his tone gentler than before. "Very well. I agree to your terms, liminal child. Your name?"

He flushed a little from embarrassment as he spoke. "The liminal who creates and shatters the stars." He didn't entirely know what it meant. It felt like too much, too over the top, too heavy with expectations and something he didn't quite understand. He didn't know any other ghosts' true name, though, having never earned the right to know, and he had nothing to compare it to. Maybe the true names of all ghosts were a little too heavy and a little strange.

Nocturn smiled thoughtfully, studying him for a moment before he finally asked, "What do you wish to know?"

"I took the dreams that you sto–harvested, I mean, from others," he said as he switched out of ghost speech, "and since then I want more. That's not something I ever wanted before, or at least I didn't realize that I wanted it before, I guess? I don't even know how I did it, honestly. I want to know how I did. Why I did it and feel like I still need to do it. Most of the ghosts I've met don't need to eat dreams or anything like that. I don't even know if they can do stuff like that."

"There are dozens of species on Earth. Why must all ghosts be the same?" replied Nocturn. "I am a creation of myth and stories about the king of dreams. You are the creation of scientists who dared to dream that piercing our realm was possible. I am an Ancient, liminal child, older than Pariah Dark, and you–"

"Who?"

Nocturn stared at him, cocking his head to the side. "Do you know nothing of our history?"

"The other ghosts hate me," said Danny as he shifted to sit cross-legged on the chair. "Well, at least ghost me. And they won't talk about this stuff with me when I'm human. Most of the stuff I've learned is kind of intuitive, I guess, or things I've picked up by accident over time."

"Child, you are never human, never a ghost," said Nocturn. "Always both."

"Right, okay, but–"

"-do you wish for answers?" Danny gritted his teeth and forced himself to nod. "Pariah Dark ruled the Ghost Zone for hundreds of years as a King in name but a tyrant in truth. He was eventually stopped by a group of seven ghosts that have come to be known as the Ancients."

"Oh. So you're really old and really powerful," said Danny, wondering why the ghost didn't simply say that originally. "I'm not. What's your point?"

"There are many types of ghosts, many forms we may take, and many things we may need for sustenance, for survival," said Nocturn. "I did not, originally, need to forcefully harvest the dreams of those who slept within this world to maintain my power. But myths and stories and dreams freely given, the things that empowered me once, have faded as most humans deny the very existence of the Infinite Realms and those they helped create."

"And you, child, did not need to harvest these dreams until you had none," said Nocturn. "As ghosts, we all seek to fill these voids, these holes within ourselves. The emptiness and hollowness and loss that comes with being what we are. Most can find it through the satisfaction of their obsession. Others, like myself, like Penelope Spectra, who devours potential and promise and hope? We cannot."

"So I'm always going to do this, then?" Danny said as he dug his fingernails into his legs, barely resisting the urge to scream or cry. "Or can I just–is satisfying my obsession enough?" He shouldn't have ignored it for so long. Shouldn't have been so careless. But Danny didn't know that something like this was possible, that he could be changed in this way. He worried, briefly, what it meant for the other ghosts he helped, but he realized he never asked them to go against their own obsessions, only to focus it differently. They would be okay. But him? To be reduced in such a way, to be forced to either eat dreams or constantly be pushed to fulfill his obsession to avoid it, it just–it didn't seem fair. Not that the world ever seemed to care about what was fair when it came to him.

"The fulfillment of your obsession alone may no longer be sufficient" Danny's head dropped as he swallowed. Satisfying his obsession would have been better than eating dreams, even if it bothered him since it no longer felt like he had a real choice about it. "But you are not necessarily doomed to this fate." The ghost tilted his head, the shadows around him stretching, as if probing the containment field for a weakness. "All things can change, even ghosts, but for us true ghosts these changes are gradual. It is a river creating a canyon. For humans, change is constant. Their lives are endlessly shifting sand. And you, liminal child, are both. You are mountains turning to dust in an instant and over centuries."

"So maybe I'm going to do this for like a week or maybe I'm going to do it for like a millenia?" groaned Danny, struggling to understand.

"You will do it as long as needed," said Nocturn. "If you don't want to steal the dreams of others, liminal child, then you must have your own."

Because that was so easy, obviously. "What happened to harvesting, not stealing?"

"You, liminal child, are a thief. I am a farmer tending his crop," said Nocturn, and Danny rolled his eyes as he remembered precisely how he 'forcefully' harvested dreams mere days ago.

"Great. So I'm pretty much doomed," grumbled Danny as he hunched forward, head in his hands as he tried not to cry, and he took a deep, shuddering breath as he looked back up at Nocturn. "Listen, I know you obviously want your freedom and stuff, and I'll still do that, but is there any way I can help you not be this way, too? Is there a way to make you not need to harvest dreams anymore, to not have this . . . this hole?" He touched his chest, feeling the hunger and the void and the emptiness there, even now, and he didn't see a way to get rid of it. If he could find something he cared about enough, some sort of dream or hope for his future, then he would have already, but he just couldn't see a way to do that, couldn't hold onto his hopes long enough to let them grow into something. He had nothing. "I–This emptiness that I have, that you have, sucks. Everything is just worse, and I can't imagine living with that for as long as you probably have. I don't want to, and I–Is there anything I can do to help you with it, at least? Even if I'm stuck like this?"

"Let me return to consuming the dreams of those within Amity Park."

"Right, okay, that's a non-starter and it doesn't really work, does it?" said Danny. "I stole so much from you only a few days ago and that hollowness, that ache, it's already back. It doesn't fix it. If anything, it's just worse now. It'll never be enough." He glanced at his palm for a minute, and then looked up at Nocturn. "I want to help you at least, even if I'm probably stuck this way. Please"

"It does not sustain you for as long as it should because the dreams I desire are not entirely the same as what you do. You would do better to devour their hopes, their goals, their ambitions for the future," said Nocturn, and he shuddered as he considered what Nocturn said about what Spectra consumed and how uncomfortably close the two things were, the line between them so thin it felt like he could snap it between his fingers. "But if you truly do not desire to do so, then perhaps we might assist each other. You hold great power, as could your dreams. Allow me to help you dream again rather than resisting my power. If it succeeds, then I will harvest what I need from you and no more."

"How could that possibly be enough?"

"The dreams of liminals are unlike those of ordinary humans," said Nocturn simply. "Yours and the dreams of the other liminals were enough to satisfy me until you stopped dreaming."

Danny went pale, the realization that he'd inadvertently done this to Nocturn somehow, that he may have been part of what pushed him to attack Amity Park, like a knife to the heart. While Nocturn still made the choice to do it, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty, knowing how hard his own desire to consume dreams pulled at him. How long could he have resisted?. "I'm sorry," he choked out. He touched his chest again as if he could feel the void there, the emptiness beneath his fingertips. "But that still won't fix it, will it? If something happened to me or if I don't–if I can't–then you'll still need to go right back to harvesting other peoples' dreams again, won't you?"

"You are mountains turning into dust in an instant and over centuries," he repeated, and Danny groaned. "Which is to say, liminal child, that it may not be so simple. You can change things for us that we cannot ourselves, at a pace we could not imagine, and you have changed and shaped the world around you in ways that go far beyond your own understanding. There is a reason so many of the ghosts fear you even as others may find comfort in your existence. Your powers and my own share much in common, and your dreams will have a power that others do not. You are the liminal that creates and shatters the stars, are you not? Have you not borne witness to the changes you have brought forth in the other ghosts?"

Danny opened his mouth to argue but stopped. Nocturn was right - the other ghosts had changed during their time with him, but he didn't think it had anything to do with being a liminal so much as just not being actively cruel to them when he could avoid it. He wasn't convinced it was all because of him, but if this meant Nocturn might be able to help him, too, then it was worth a shot. He didn't have a better option. "I'm not convinced that's because of me," he said, swallowing. "But if you think it might work, then I want to try it." Jumping to his feet, he walked over to the containment field. He should have put Nocturn back in the thermos, sent him into the Ghost Zone properly, but Danny found himself making the choice to trust Nocturn and instead simply deactivated the containment field.

The ghost approached him first, gently touching his forehead, and he felt a chill pass through him. It wasn't unpleasant, though, and he was still standing afterward, not asleep or unconscious. "You shall have a dream tonight. Do not fight it or twist it, as you have done so much before, or it will not take root."

"I don't know if I can stop myself," he admitted softly, his voice cracking.

"You must, if you wish to help me have a future without forcefully harvesting the dreams from others, too." The sentiment touched softly on his obsession, and Danny doubted that it was an accident. He suspected Nocturn knew him better than anyone besides himself, given his power. "So nurture it. Let it grow. And you may find that if you do, you will no longer desire to take that from others which you have sworn with your core to protect."

"And then you'll take it from me?"

"Only when it is not the only flower that grows in your garden," he said, and Danny rolled his eyes as he hurried over to the portal. His finger pressed down on the genetic lock, a twinge of relief running through him as it still opened. Even if his parents eventually decided he wasn't a Fenton anymore, at least something in the universe outside himself still believed it, and the tiny reinforcement helped.

The moment Nocturn was gone, he felt his phone vibrate. His parents were just a few minutes away. Danny didn't think it had been an hour, but at least he hopefully got what he needed, and closing the portal doors he hurried upstairs and back to his room, hoping that for once he might actually dream instead of being haunted by nothing but nightmares.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, faves, follows, etc! I appreciate it. The next chapter should go up in one week.