Longest story so far! I kinda wish I had more action, but I didn't have a lot of plot thought out before I started typing. So here it is. And now I plan to get back to the multi-chapter stories. And finishing the Phantom/Batman multi-stories/chapters.
"You treat an outside wound with rubbing alcohol. You treat an inside wound with drinking alcohol."
-John Constantine
Years of experience as a halfa, the unofficial protector of the Ghost Zone, Danny Phantom found himself being chased, yet again. The normal hand ectoblasts were doing basically nothing to the giant worm-goat hybrid, except making it angrier. Danny had escaped the slimy stampede, but had been headbutted enough times to start running.
"Danny," Tucker called through the Fenton phones, "Are you gonna make it home for another round of Doomed tonight?" He could hear the click-clack of a keyboard through the Phones. If Tucker was checking in, Danny must have been in the Ghost Zone at least an hour and half by now. Tucker was usually the one to keep track of time when Danny went on these solo ventures through the Ghost Zone.
"You're still in the Ghost Zone?" Sam, his other best friend, called from the same line. Nowadays, the team kept the Fenton Phones on full time, keeping them in constant communication during fights and expeditions. "Did you at least finish your paper for Lancer's class?" she asked. It wasn't said accusingly, but Danny still understood the judgement behind the question. Of course, Sam was on top of their various syllabi. There was a reason she had the best grades of the three of them. And also the reason Danny was passing all his classes at this point.
"No," he groaned. "But right now I have more pressing matters." The ghost worm growled in the background. This thing was unrelenting. "I gotta find a place to hide and lose this thing!" He took a hard swerve to the right, avoiding the floating rock narrowly, which the creature decided to plow straight through instead. Debris from the explosion flew into the green atmosphere, hitting Danny on his back and sides. He yelled in surprise. One of the more jagged pieces tore through his side, ripping his jumpsuit.
His eyes darted around, searching for any relief. There was a singular purple door floating ahead. Even though he didn't know exactly where, or when, it would take him, Danny decided it was worth the risk. The worm wouldn't be able to get through the door, and hopefully it would lose interest in Danny soon enough for him to make his way back to Amity Park without too much hassle. He dove for the door, barreling into its entrance, slamming it shut behind him. His back was pressed against its frame, listening intently for any worm-like movement into the passageway.
Leaning against the door, Danny tried to take some deep breaths to calm down, just like Jazz had taught him. Five seconds in, hold, seven seconds out. He repeated the routine thrice before it felt like he was ready to embrace whatever lie ahead. It didn't appear like the worm was trying to burst through the door, so that seemed like a good sign. One more deep breath sent the ghost boy into relief. Well, while he was passing the time, he might as well try and figure out whose lair he accidentally stepped into.
It was an old house with a grand staircase at the entryway. Danny stood as if he was a guest to the lair, a welcoming feeling embracing him. Everything seemed wood stained and polished. Thick, velvet curtains draped the windows, which blocked the green swirling atmosphere of the Ghost Zone by wooden blinds as well. An old type of classy, the opposite of Vlad's mansion.
Apparently, the front door led into the Ghost Zone, which was easy enough to remember, in case he got lost in a place this big. Even though he walked through each room, Danny tried be cautious: ghostly soft footsteps and an ecto ball prepped in one hand. No one seemed to be on the main floor, which included a kitchen, living, and dining rooms. And he didn't feel a wisp of his ghost sense, so no rampaging ghost worms (or other normal ghosts) in sight. Very extravagant. Very normal, especially for a ghost's eternal lair. Somewhat safe. So a little odd.
Danny sat on the couch in the living room, which unfortunately did not have a TV, he noticed, and decided to get a real rest in while he waited. "Tuck, Sam?" he called out through the Phones. No one replied back. Well, it wasn't odd to be blocked in reception in a ghost's lair. They just wanted their privacy after all. He decided to chill in the lair until the ghost worm hopefully got bored and left the doorway in the Ghost Zone. In the meantime, Danny put a pillow over his face, he couldn't find a single lightswitch in the whole place, despite all the lights being on, propped up his feet, and closed his eyes. How often did he get the opportunity to nap nowadays anyway?
John Constantine, demonologist to the Justice League, strolled into his home, the House of Mysteries, mumbling to himself. Today had been filled with two blood thirsty vampires that needed to be physically drained and two meetings with his Justice League cohorts: one with Jason Blood's attached demon, Etrigon, and one with Batman. And personally, John would have rather been with the vampires all day. In between curses, John fiddled with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, fumbling in his trenchcoat pocket for his lighter.
Finally, he felt the cold, metal texture of the lighter and raised it to his mouth. A flame burst from its tip and was immediately extinguished. In between the frustrated grunts, John felt an eerie coolness. Which was especially odd considering the House didn't have AC. John felt like he was playing a game of Hot and Cold wandering through his home, searching for the source of the otherworldliness.
Even though John felt like he was playing a game, he did not expect to find a kid sleeping on his sofa. Specifically the comfy one that was best for late night drinks and passouts. The kid had white hair and a black jumpsuit on. He looked as wide as possible, limbs splayed over the topside, one foot resting on the floor, arm strewn across his face.
"Oi!" John yelled at the kid, kicking his foot.
The kid woke with a yelp of being suddenly woken up. His eyes flashed an ethereal green color. A color reserved for the land of the dead. They locked eyes: John's tired, blue eyes with the kid's scared, glowing, green eyes, and with one more yip, the kid blinked out of existence. The cigarette fell from John's gaped mouth and hit the floor. Instinctually, John crushed the embers with foot before it singed the carpet.
Now, the Brit had dealt with his fair share of demons, and otherworldly beings, but this kid was a whole new breed of scary. Those from the underworld were never solid enough to kick. And they never creeped their way into the House of Mysteries to take a nap! How did he get in, anyways?
John whipped his head around, searching for the invisible kid, but obviously didn't see anything odd. But he could still feel the eerie coolness in his house. The kid was still here, waiting for something, but what, John didn't know. He did know one thing that would bring the kid to a more level playing field: magic. And that was something John was well-versed in.
His hand lit up a golden yellow color as he commanded the magic Latin words to reveal invisible beings in his presence. Slowly, a being misted its form from the back of the living room. It was as if each molecule was being forced into solid matter one at a time. A white glove flipped itself over in the air twice. John stood by and watched as his magic took effect, pulling another cigarette from a pocket in his trenchcoat.
"Hey!" the kid called out as he was pulled into the visible spectrum. "What did you do to me?" The glowing green eyes made their piercing appearance as another white gloved hand and two white boots showed up.
"Giving myself the upper hand," John answered.
The remainder of the kid's form appeared. He crossed his black, jumpsuited arms and raised one eyebrow at the sorcerer. While perturbed, the kid didn't appear relaxed by any means. He held a stiff posture, as if he was ready to escape the House, as if that was possible at this point. The House didn't release anyone unless that is what it wanted. John had learned that the hard way.
"What is your deal, man?" The kid was feisty, quippy. Hopefully not dangerous too.
John shoved both hands in his pockets, not letting his guard down, but not actively engaging with this new kid. "First of all, you were on my best sofa," he said. "Second, you're in my house. And I want to know what you want here."
"Oh, this is your haunt," the kid visibly relaxed. John figured this was a good sign. "It's, um, really nice." He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly complimenting the stranger. This had to be the most awkward demon John Constantine had ever met.
The kid took two steps towards the demonologist, who straightened himself, bracing for whatever the kid was about to throw his way. One gloved, glowing white hand thrust itself towards John. The magician's clenched fists came out of his pockets.
"I'm Danny, Danny Phantom" the kid said. He stood still, a soft smirk in the corner of his mouth.
John decided to take a chance. He took the kid's hand. It was oddly cool, but John knew when he was holding power. How was this kid holding this much power? As if a whole world rested in the palm of his hand every day. "John Constantine," he answered.
This made the kid's face light up. "Sorry I'm in your lair. I was in the Ghost Zone and was looking for an escape route from a worm monster and ended up here. And then apparently took too long of a nap." He laughed to himself. "I'm sure my friends are worried, so I can get out of your hair and back to my world."
Out of curiosity, John didn't stop the kid as he walked towards the front door. Not surprisingly, the front door did not budge when the kid attempted to open it, even with a few grunts and tugs. At least the kid was giving it a standing chance, John noted.
"Good luck with that one, kid," John scoffed. "The House doesn't usually allow its guests to go willy-nilly." He leaned against one of the stair bannisters, watching the kid struggle far longer than he anticipated.
"How do I get out of here then?" Danny growled, planting both feet on the wall and tugging on the door handle. Finally, it seemed like he gave up, facing John with more determination than before.
"Beats me, kid," the Brit shrugged. "Usually the House tells you what it wants you to know." He turned and walked away, not saying another word, bored with watching the kid trying to escape the House.
"Where are you going?" Danny yelled, taking his new frustration out on the magician. He purposefully stomped through the house, following the man into the kitchen. The Brit ignored his guest and pulled two cocktail glasses out of the cupboard. When he finally found the correct bottle in the pantry, John gave an excited exclamation and quickly poured two glasses of whiskey, pushing one towards where Danny was walking.
Danny stopped when he saw what the magician was doing. "Um, I'm actually too young to drink," he stated as John gulped his own drink down.
"Damn Yanks," John mumbled, deciding to knock back the second glass as well. He took a relieving sigh after the second shot.
"No offense," Danny asked, "but how is this helping my situation?" He was trying to be as polite, but professional, as possible.
"Helps me keep my mind clear. I may need a quick mind to deal with whatever type of demon you are that the House decided to welcome here," he replied gruffly. "Besides, it looks like the house left you a gift." He pointed at the kitchen table, which now had a plain gift sitting in the middle of it. Danny swore it wasn't there when they first walked into the kitchen. But maybe that was why Sam always called him the clueless one.
The ghost boy walked over slowly, just in case it was a trap. The more time he spent in this place, the weirder it was getting. On the solid oak, twelve man table sat a square box, about 1'x1'x1', wrapped in white paper with blue and green ribbon encasing it. It didn't seem to give off any weird glow or feelings to the ghost boy.
He crouched below table level and raised one hand over the table, poking the box with one white, gloved finger. It sounded and felt like a normal box from the outside. Without looking at the host, Danny said quietly, "I'm not exactly a demon. Do you think the House knows this?"
Watching from the island in the kitchen proper, the Brit snorted in amusement and poured himself a third glass, ignoring the question. Danny grabbed the box and shook it, but sadly it gave no odd noises. "I'd give it up, mate," John said. "Just open the bloody box." Danny shot his green eyes at John in annoyance, scowling. That guy was just getting drunk over there, not a care in the world that they were stuck in this crazy house, he thought to himself.
With a frustrated sigh, Danny set the gift on the table again and gently pulled the ribbon. It surprisingly came free very easily. The sides of the box fell apart almost as quick as the ribbon was pulled. Sitting in the middle was a small pedestal holding a very small, pale skin toned colored electronic device.
Out of curiosity, John ventured closer to the table, fifth glass in hand. He took a small swig, deciding to savor this glass. Danny had yet to pick up his new present. His face got closer, inspecting the new gift, still undecided about its function, before turning to John, "What is it?"
Setting his glass down, he softly grunted, not truly answering the question from the boy. Instead of inspecting it gently like the boy, John confidently grabbed it and turned it around in his fingers. He placed it back on the table in front of the boy. "Comm link," he said. Obviously Danny understood the premise of a communication device, but it was a tad frustrating the adult didn't feel like expanding on its function at all.
"And this is for me?" Danny asked. Maybe asking some questions would force the Brit to talk through this whole situation. He actually picked it up this time, admiring its compact design. He would probably have to keep Tucker from taking it apart to replicate.
"Appears so," John answered, walking away from the kitchen now. "It's definitely not intended for me." Danny, realizing this conversation was now mobile, followed the magician back into the living room.
"Why would you say that?" Danny asked, gently cradling the link in his hand. John plopped himself on the couch, pushing the blanket from Danny's nap to the floor and throwing his hands over the top of the couch.
Eyes closed, John used the hand not holding his alcohol to poke his ear. "Because I already have one of my own." He closed his eyes, taking a sip, and leaning his head against the back of the sofa as well.
Danny seemed to be having an internal conversation with himself before shrugging and placing the device in his ear. He shook his head, white hair flopping around his face. It was an odd feeling, like getting used to a new ear piercing. But it seemed to settle fairly well into his ear, almost like it was made for him.
"You get used to it," John said, opening his eyes, knowing the feeling. "Tap once and say your name and who you are contacting." To demonstrate, John placed a finger to his ear. "John Contantine to Danny Phantom. Test." And then he waited for Danny to respond. The kid's face lit up, hearing an echo of John in his ear. This was amazing. Would it reach across dimensions too? Like across the Ghost Zone? If so, he definitely needed to keep it away from Tucker.
"Wow, that's amazing," Danny whispered. John ignored and continued the short spiel.
"The Martian will contact you if you're needed. Otherwise, it'll link you to others in a battlezone." He saw the kid's eyes grow with wonder again.
"The Martian?" Danny asked excitedly. "Like from Mars? I can talk to a Martian?" Danny's small world had just opened exponentially. In all the lairs and worlds he had visited in the Ghost Zone, this one might be one he would have to earmark for the future.
John raised one eyebrow, about to question the kid, when a thump was heard from the kitchen. Danny turned, alerted to the noise, then stared at John, thinking his calm behavior was odd. Only invisible ghosts would make thumps like that, but Danny's ghost sense would have gone off it was a ghost.
The magician gave a deep sigh, pulling himself off of the couch, walking into the kitchen, the trenchcoat swishing behind him. The ghost boy silently followed behind, mostly out of curiosity.
"And there would be mine," John stated, throwing back what was left in his glass. On the table sat an identical present in the center: white paper and blue and green ribboning. As he set the glass on the table, he slowly pulled the ribbon. It fell off and the sides of the box fell apart, revealing a metallic silver and green boomerang. "What the bloody hell is this?" John asked to no one.
Danny peeked over the man's shoulder, immediately recognizing the gifted item. He reached over the Brit, turning the tool over, seeing the green Fenton logo on the side. "It's a Boooo-merang," Danny explained happily, handing it to the blonde man.
John snorted, examining the new gift. "As if that tells me anything useful about this bloody named device." He set it back on the table, fully intending to leave it there forever. How come the kid got a full Justice League comm before the Martian's approval and all he got was a homemade toy? He began walking towards the living room again, the kid following like a puppy out of curiosity. But he stopped and groaned when he heard a familiar thump from the living room coffee table.
John walked into the room, shouting to the ceiling, "Really?!"
Peeking behind the magician, Danny saw the same gift, already opened, sitting in the center of the coffee table. Was it the same gift as the one in the kitchen, he wondered? The way John was yelling into the silence made him think so. What kind of lair was this?
John sat on the sofa again and gave the coffee table a frustrated kick. The gift box didn't move an inch. The House was determined to keep it in front of John's eyes.
Trying to ease some of the tension, Danny went and picked up the Booo-merang in his hands again, looking it over, as if he didn't know every detail in its schematics already. "It's not just a toy, you know, it's a tracking device." John looked up at the kid, dark circles beginning under his eyes. "We've used it to track, to divert, to deliver messages. Not this one obviously, but it's predecessors have gone across timelines, across decades, across dimensions."
Now John was intrigued. This pathetic piece of metal had figured out a way to timetravel and multiverse travel? That was almost more impressive than his portals or those boom tubes the League had grown so fond of recently.
Danny continued, "Maybe this is my dimensions way of a communication device. It would be a little obvious for you to take a Fenton phone." He laughed, pointing at his own ear where the obnoxious green and silver earpiece sat around his ear. John was thanking whatever god was listening he didn't have to wear one of those ugly things.
Danny extended the Booo-merang to John and he tucked it into his waistband. "I better not start being confused for that bloody Australian the Flash is always chasing around," he muttered to himself.
The kid squeaked his white boots on the wooden floor. When John set his eyes on the kid, he was rubbing the back of his neck with his white gloved hand. "So," Danny started, "Now that we can talk whenever we want, what should we do now?"
"We wait until the House decides to let us out."
"The House still decides?!" Danny exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
Scuffing, John said, "I may stay here, but the House is completely sentient. Even a magician like me has their limits." Finally giving the glowing kid a once over, he casually set his hands in his coat pockets and asked, "What your deal anyways, kid? Why does the House think we need to be buddy-buddy?"
Deciding to tell the truth, "I may be the future Ghost King...? At least in my dimension" Danny said hesitantly. "It's a long story, but that's why I was out in the Ghost Zone, I was trying to get more familiar with the surroundings for when I have to take over the role."
John wanted to continue this charade, "You don't look like much of a king, kid. You barely look past secondary school. Besides, isn't the Ghost King supposed to be a thousand years old and named Pariah Darth or something like that?"
"I'm definitely old enough!" Danny protested. "I have my chest hair coming in and everything! And I may have defeated Pariah Dark back in my junior year of high school." Even if Danny didn't know his English slang, he knew an insult when he heard it. "Besides, what's your deal with the trench coat and everything?"
Not even bothering to keep looking at the kid, John began searching for his cigarettes again. "I'm a certified demonologist. I try to help keep the balance between good and evil. And now that I've figured out you're not evil, despite calling yourself the Ghost King, who was a right-nasty fellow I've heard, I won't send you straight to Hell. At least, that's usually why the Justice League calls me nowadays..." The last sentence John muttered to himself. As much as John had decided his path in life, he didn't appreciate being the League's dog in regards to otherworldly beings.
"What's the Justice League?" the future Ghost King asked, calming down at the prospect of a new dimension full of Martians and magicians and apparently they had heard of him too.
"That's the first question you have?" John had finally found a cigarette and lighter and had started attempting a light. "You're not concerned with a demonologist sending you to Hell?"
"Nah," he answered lightheartedly, "I've been threatened with worse."
"That's some messed up life you have. Not that I'm really one to talk," he puffed, releasing a cloud of smoke above them. He looked down from the puff, seeing a bright-eyed kid staring at him. John had a soft spot for kids, especially those stuck in his lifestyle as well. "But, hey kid, if you do need to talk, you know where to reach me now." His hand not holding a cigarette pointed to his ear, signaling the new earpiece. "If you need me, I'll do what I can to help." He gave another pull and puff of the cigarette, not wanting to seem too chummy.
Danny still saw the genuine nature of the Brit and gave him a soft smile. "Thanks, John. Knowing I have someone out there willing to help does make me feel better."
There was an awkward silence where both supernatural heroes stared at each other, an understanding coming between them for future cooperation and knowledge sharing. Then, the front door lock unlatched itself. The House gave its own signal.
"Sounds like we're finally free to go," John said. He looked to the ceiling, yelling, "Thanks, House-y. Always a pleasure!"
Instead of heading out the front door as expected, John headed towards the kitchen again. Danny followed, pointing a thumb at the front door. "You know the door's that way, right?"
John's head popped from the bottom cabinets, holding a fifth of liquor triumphantly above his head. "One for the road!" he smiled. "You ready, kid?" The trenchcoat swished behind him, happily walking through the house with a fast pace until he reached the front door. One hand gripped the door handle and the two stared at each other again.
Danny didn't realize he was holding his breath. The Brit pushed on the latch and there was an audible click. The door easily swung open, revealing the green swirling atmosphere of the Ghost Zone. Whew, Danny released the breathe and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Taking in the fresh ectoplasm again, Danny stepped up to the stoop. Before taking a step, he turned around, extending a gloved hand once again. The two gripped hands, nodding appreciatively, knowing no more words were needed.
Using the stoop as a launch pad, Danny flew into the Zone, feeling himself renewed again. The front door of the House of Mysteries gently closed behind him. Trying to get his bearings, Danny looked behind him once again, this time, the House door was gone. Not that he was super surprised at that. Hopefully John made it back safe as well. Danny figured the new friend was capable enough to find his own way back home from the House.
Well, there was only one direction to go: forward, until he found something to follow. Somehow, Danny instantly recognized some landmarks nearby. "If that's Skulker's Island, I can't be that far from the Fenton Portal," he said to himself.
"Danny?!" Sam yelled into his ear from the Fenton Phones. "Danny, is that you? Finally!"
He chuckled, still flying towards home. "Hi, Sam. Miss me?"
"You went radio silent on us for hours! Where have you been?"
Seeing the portal ahead, Danny answered, "Soon. Meet at Tucker's in ten? I'll tell you guys everything. I'm almost through the portal now."
"You better, ghost boy," she sounded more relaxed now, knowing Danny was truly safe. "I'll grab us some snacks. Don't be late!"
thanks everyone! comments always appreciated!