"Your son is Ben Omega?" Danny inquired with a surprised tone.
The woman nods sharply. Finding out about her son so suddenly caught her off guard. Though Ben's mother wasn't entirely sure she could trust the young man just yet, maybe she might find the answers to the questions she had.
"Do you know where he is?"
"He's in my town, Amity Park," Danny answers.
"Take me there!"
"Wait a second lady, first of all, I don't even know your name," Danny points out. "And second, why would I help you when you just said you wouldn't help me?"
"My name is Diana," the woman introduces with a sigh. "And Benjamin is my son."
"You didn't answer my second question."
Diana was at a loss for words, assuming Danny was correct when he pointed out her self-centeredness. Since she turned down his request for assistance, there is no justification for aiding her. Why is this even a question to ask? Why not just leave her alone and go about his business instead of throwing it in her face that he won't help.
"You're lucky that I'm going to the same place that your son is at," Danny admits.
"I apologize for my previous comments, and I thank you for your help."
"Don't thank me yet."
Danny and Diana search the Ghost Zone for a path that leads back to Amity Park. They were running out of time, and Danny knew it even though he didn't know how. It dawns on the ghost boy that they should visit Clockwork as his lair is the one location in the Ghost Zone that stays constant. That doesn't assist them much when everything else is constantly changing; in short, if Clockwork doesn't want you to locate him, you won't.
Danny finds it odd that Diana, not him, is guiding them through the Ghost Zone. She nearly seemed to know where she was headed, although that would be impossible given that this is not her Ghost Zone. Danny comes to the realization that he knows nothing about Ben and his mother's world—if she ever had a Ghost Zone at all. Though it wasn't the right moment to delve too deeply into their lives, the teenager's lack of knowledge about the ghosts that roamed his homeworld made him uneasy.
"Say it," Diana asserted.
"What?"
"I can tell you're thinking about something," she continues.
"You seem to know where you're going," Danny confesses. "Have you been here before?"
"This specific Ghost Zone?" she asks rhetorically. "No, but yours isn't much different from mine."
"Oh," is Danny's only response.
Diana sighs, "I'm able to smell my kid."
"Oh?"
"It's a power of mine: I can track him by scent," she admits. "The truth is that I was going to ditch you at the first sign of trouble and go off to find Ben."
"What made you change your mind?" Danny hesitated. "If you changed your mind."
"You're not like the others."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you're not violent or twisted, or looking to make a quick buck."
"And the ghosts you encounter are?"
Diana pauses for a moment."They're much worse."
"I've noticed."
"Forgive me for misleading you."
"Does that mean you're going to stop playing games and lead me back to my town?"
"If my son is still there then yes."
Diana takes one, two, and then a third sniff of the air before taking off in what looks to be a random direction. Danny has little trouble keeping up, although he is slightly annoyed that she left without warning. Like bats out of hell, they tear through the Ghost Zone, leaving every passing ghost in their dust. This is the fastest Danny has gone since training with Dani began. Feeling the wind riffle over his silver locks is an enjoyable feeling. Diana and Danny are a blur as they race through the air with only one goal in mind.
He feels glad that he's headed in the right direction, but he also harbors a sense of impending doom, wondering whether it's already too late. He pondered whether he would return to see his entire town—possibly even the entire world—ravaged. A more dire realization dawns on him: his sister might have passed away believing he no longer valued her, given the fact he hasn't yet offered an apology to Jazz. No, he will not allow it to come to this; he will not allow his frailty to bring about the destruction of the place he vowed to defend. He will go to any length to protect those he cares about.
The notorious headache reappears almost immediately, making Danny wince, but it passes fast. Danny's pledges were heard by more than just his inner-self, and vows made by ghosts are binding. Gazing forward, the phantom boy notices a well-known green portal fading into the distance. The closer they got, the smaller it appeared to be.
"That's our exit," Diana confirms.
"Then let's not be late!" Danny shouts as he zooms ahead.
The two ghosts take off, as if they still had gas in their tanks. They manage to make their flight in milliseconds, at most. A green light surrounds the two of them as the portal spits them out into the living world. Diana gently lands on the rooftop and skids to a stop, while Danny needs to become intangible to avoid colliding with a building. She looks around, and immediately realizes that this location is not at all like home.
Danny, unable to contain his excitement at being back home, flies up to the roof with the biggest smile. Judging by the number of cars on the street, they were in Amity Park, downtown, most likely around rush hour. The city lights come on to replace the sun as it is about to set fully beyond the horizon. At last, he's returned home.
Finding Negative Nancy becomes another issue; he had no idea where to begin his search. Finding her would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack because she's able to get past his ghost sense. Perhaps he should go back to his parents' lab and see if he can locate anything that tracks supernatural beings there first.
Danny turns to the woman that helped him return home, "I appreciate you helping me," he thanks. "I guess this is where we part ways."
Diana nods, "You're welcome."
"If you need any more help finding your son then I'm sure you can find me," he offers with a wave.
Although Diana is a jumble of unknown variables, Danny didn't mind letting her walk freely in his hometown. It was obvious to him that she would not be a problem for him. It's time for him to move his attention to more pressing matters. Danny makes his way toward his house. He's going to call Tucker and Sam to come over to his place and assist him in this. Nancy mentioned, the ghost boy recalled, that she would be absorbing negative energy from a lot of people. Then it hit him like a freight train—the answer to everything. Dash was very concerned about missing the game tonight because it is a tribute game for his father and all the officers who lost their lives in the ghost attack. It's expected that everyone from Amity Park and some other nearby communities will be present tonight. Nancy will, in other words, be treated to a feast.
After landing on his front steps, Danny gives a sidelong glance at the parked police car outside his residence. As soon as he enters, he hears conversation emanating from the kitchen. Danny transforms back into a human and peeks into the kitchen, where he witnesses one cop taking notes as another speaks with his parents and sister. His mother notices him and lets out an audible gasp.
"Danny!" his mother cries, rushing to squeeze her son in a hug. "Where have you been?"
"Huh?" he stupidly responds. "At school?"
"A janitor had called the cops saying he found Mr Lancer in a puddle of his own blood," Jack Fenton, his father, explains. "When police searched the school you and Dash were nowhere to be found."
"And now I can't find Dani!" Jazz sniffles. "I've been calling her for hours!"
"Listen, we'd like to ask you a few questions," one of the officers said.
The information that Danny has just been given is so overwhelming; he knows that Dash is missing, of course, but is Dani missing as well, and Mr. Lancer is suddenly dead? What the hell is happening? It all feels unreal, like a bizarre and warped dream. But he didn't have time to process anything; he didn't even have time to explain his whereabouts. If all of this has already occurred, Nancy is merely growing more powerful and her plan is getting closer to completion. Danny had to get ready for tonight; he couldn't wait another minute. Danny tries to maneuver around the cop, but he pulls him back.
"It wasn't a suggestion, son."
Danny gives the man a head tilt and steadily narrows his eyes. Jazz, anticipating what was going to happen, instantly speaks up.
"Danny stop!"
It was too late, as Danny grabbed the officer by the front of his uniform and slammed him into the wall. The other policeman pulls his sidearm and aims it at the youngster.
"What are you going to do with that?" Danny hisses, glaring over at the gun-wielding officer.
"Step away from my partner," he commands. "You are being arrested in connection with the attempted murder of Mr Lancer and Dash's disappearance."
"Have you lost your mind, pig?" Danny snarls. "Why would I have anything to do with that?"
"Danny!" Maddie Fenton scolds. "I'm so sorry, he normally never acts like that."
"If you can just release the officer, then we can talk everything out," Jack suggests to his son.
"We're past that now," the officer claims. "Last chance to release my partner."
"Can you stop pointing that thing at my son!" Jack yells. "He's just a boy!"
Jazz slowly approaches Danny with a soft smile. "I don't know what's going on, Danny; but we need you to cooperate, Dash and Dani could be hurt or worse."
"Miss, back away from him," the cop orders.
Danny bites his lip in frustration. "I just need time to fix it."
"Let us help you then," Jazz replies. "You're not alone."
The genuine look his sister gave him made him want to trust her, but he knew better; no one could solve this problem except him. This is the mantle he took on, this is his cross to bear. If they truly intended to support him, they would get out of his way and let him do his job. Danny averts his gaze, not wanting to witness his sister's heart break again. Here he is, preparing to hurt her again, after promising himself that he would make amends and strive to be better.
You don't understand," he mutters. "You can't help me."
A single gunshot rings out within the Fenton home. Danny can still hear the thunderclap of the gunshot through his sensitive ears. He is the first to react, becoming intangible and allowing the bullet to pass through him unharmed. The bullet embeds itself in the wall to the left of the teenager. Danny, in a fit of rage, snatches the officer from the wall and brashly throws him at his buddy. Danny snarls as he stomps toward the police.
"Daniel Fenton STOP!" his mother yells with tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't know what has been up with you but you have been out of control lately, mister! And as your mother, I am ordering you to stop this instant!"
Danny becomes motionless as though he was struck by an unseen freeze ray. Knowing that his mother hardly ever raises her voice, especially to him, he lowers his head in shame. When Daniel looks back at his distraught mother, he realizes that he should never have; he wasn't prepared for the despair and disappointment that filled her face. It made him feel like a bloodthirsty creature. Not only did his mother have such an expression on her face, but so did Jazz and his father. His mother used to think that he was an angel, that he was perfect. She now stared at him with the same terror that she had for Vlad. It completely destroyed his heart.
Danny flies through the roof, unable to remain in his own home. Jazz cried out to him, but it was too late—he had already left. Just as Maddie is ready to collapse onto the ground, her husband intervenes and envelops her in his arms. He understands how distressing that must have been for his wife. She and Danny had such a strong relationship and bond; it was like watching two best friends interact with each other. Jack strokes his wife's back while she sobs on his chest. The officers excuse themselves, returning to their squad car. They needed to report that there had been gunfire at a house.
Jazz had no idea what was going through her younger brother's mind, but she knew he was suffering greatly from it. She felt guilty for not being there for him more. She should be there for him; after all, he was only a child. And he's off to do God knows what, God knows where. To make matters worse, Dani has vanished as well. That poor little kid is back on the streets by herself. Jazz could tell something was upsetting the adolescent because she rarely slept in her bed and was frequently seen daydreaming. Jazz knew better than to believe Dani when she insisted it was nothing.
Danny couldn't figure out how, but he ended up outside Sam's opulent apartment window. In the hopes that his friend is home, Danny gently taps on the glass. At the first sign of a smile as she pulls back the curtains, his blood pressure begins to drop. Sam gestures for him to come in, and Danny enters her dimly lit room by passing through the wall. He often forgets how gloomy her room is, but it is also incredibly elegant, with a Victorian vibe.
"You kinda look like shit, Danny," she announces.
"Thanks, I just need to sit down for a moment," he breathes as he collapses onto her bed.
Sam twitches, "Err- yeah just sit anywhere." She grabs her phone from her desk. "Should I call Tucker over?"
"Yes please."
In no time at all, Tucker arrives and settles into Sam's beanbag chair. With the council assembled, Sam turns to Danny to find out what has been happening. She was unable to ask him any one-on-one questions because he had fallen asleep between the time he laid in her bed and Tucker arriving. Danny sits up, looking more serious than any of his two friends has ever seen him.
"Dude, did you hear about Mr Lancer being in the hospital?" Tucker said to the group.
Sam gasps, "Wait what? I didn't hear about this!"
"Today, he was found unresponsive in the school."
"Danny, didn't you have Saturday detention today?" Sam asks.
"It's a long story but there is a ghost from a different world that is able to manipulate reality and wants to merge her world and our world together."
Danny gets the blankest of looks from Sam and Tucker.
"Um-" Tucker trails off, glancing at Sam.
"What?" Sam finishes with a nervous chuckle.
"I know it sounds crazy but the truth is that she's planning to suck out every one's negative emotions at the football game tonight to get enough power to act out her plan."
Upon hearing his phone buzz, Tucker looks down to discover the latest breaking news. Tucker can't believe his eyes as he reads the story, his jaw dropping with each line of text.
"Oh that's okay because the football game is canceled," Tucker informs.
"Really? Oh what a relief," Danny sighs.
"Because Daniel Fenton is wanted for attempted murder and kidnapping?" Tucker reads off. "Danny, what the hell is this?" he points the phone at the silver haired teen.
"What?" Sam shouts, rushing over to take a peek at the screen.
"I can explain."
"Please do," Tucker beseeched.
"I don't know what happened with Mr Lancer but Dash and I got trapped inside of another dimension by a ghost called Negative Nancy."
"Negative…Nancy?" Sam quavered.
"Yes, and what I said earlier is her plan."
"And what happened to Dash?"
"Dash is still stuck inside the dimension. I had to suck myself into the Fentonthermos so I could escape through the built-in Ghost Zone."
"Her whole plan was riding on the large attendance at the football game, right? So now that it's canceled, what is her plan now?" Tucker inquires.
"I mean there is still going to be a memorial for Dash's dad and the other officers tonight at seven," Sam informs. "There is going to be a crazy amount of people in Amity Park."
"That's in," Tucker takes a peek at his watch. "38 minutes."
"Any clue as to where she could be hiding out? When she could be taking action? Or how does she even plan to absorb that many emotions?" Sam machine-guns out.
Danny shrugs, "I have a theory that she may latch onto people without them knowing, but no clue as to how she does mass collection."
"So she's a parasite," Tucker said.
Danny nods, "Very much so."
"Can't you just track her down with your ghost sense?" Sam questions.
"She's able to get past it somehow."
"What? What kind of ghost is she?" Sam doubted.
"That's just it, she isn't like any of the other ghosts; she claims to be a poltergeist."
"Excuse me? There's different categories of ghosts now?" Tucker squeaked.
"I was hoping you would know," Danny turns to Sam.
"What?"
"Since you're into all that spooky and paranormal stuff," Danny continues.
"All of that is strictly for entertainment purposes, none of it is based on scientific knowledge."
"Well something is better than nothing," Danny insists.
"Not if it gets you killed!" Sam counters. "Danny, you can't rely on this information!"
"I'm running out of options."
"I can't willingly feed you information that I know isn't true," Sam mutters. "I'm sorry."
Danny felt stupid because, as Sam pointed out, he shouldn't be depending on unreliable sources to help him with his issues. All it would do is return and bite him in the butt. He doesn't really have any other ideas, which is why he's so insistent about asking her. This wasn't a classic ghost hunt film where the solution to every issue would appear out of nowhere.
"What happened to the classic 'beat em up and suck em up?" Tucker asks. "I've never seen a ghost that was invulnerable to your fists and the Fentonthermos."
Danny chuckles and gives his friend a smile, "Shit that's what it might come to." He stands on his feet with stretch. "I can't exactly go home to get a spare and the one I had is sitting on the floor of another dimension."
"Leave that to me," Tucker assures, giving Danny a salute.
"I'm such an idiot!" Sam suddenly yells out.
The boys turn to her with confused looks on their faces.
"I may have a bunch of fictional media about ghosts, but the town library is bound to have some non-fiction paranormal literature that we can use," Sam explains.
Sam nearly screams out loud as Danny gives her a strong hug and spins her around; the teenager can feel her cheeks getting red. He knew he could rely on her to find a way to learn more about poltergeist. Everything is slowly coming together; all he needed to do was bring his A-game. Although he still had to deal with a few issues, such as him being wanted, Dash being trapped in another dimension, Dani going missing, and the identity of the person behind the attack on his principal, he had the impression that some of them would work themselves out. At the very least, he was hoping that three of the four issues would resolve themselves.
"Okay, so what's the plan?" Sam mutters, rubbing her arm.
"Tucker goes to grab the Fentonthermos and any ghost gear he may think will be needed, you go to the library to read up on poltergeist, and I'm going to go visit an old friend," Danny explains. "And we all meet up at the front of the school at 7:30; we just have to hope that Nancy isn't the type to show up early to the party."
They all give each other high fives like a group of pals from a children's film and go about completing their task. Every one of their jobs has a certain level of uncertainty and is equally vital. This group has been fighting supernatural beings since their first year of high school; as long as they were together, ghosts were not a concern. Tucker leaves first, but Danny and Sam linger for a little while longer.
"Danny," Sam said sternly.
"Yes?"
"After all of this is over, you WILL tell us what's been going on with you; Tucker and I refuse to be kept in the dark anymore," she expressed.
"Uh," Danny swallows, unsure of how to respond.
"I hope I've made myself clear," she mutters as she brushes past the teen. "I will not take no for an answer." Sam shuts the door behind her.
He's standing there like a wide-eyed fool, even after his goth friend left. Sam has been strict about his safety, but Danny hasn't really seen her express herself so seriously like that—at least not in relation to him. Right now, she sounded almost authoritative and demanding. His teenage boy mind found it attractive on the one hand, but it was also slightly disturbing on the other. He wasn't sure how to feel about it.
He passes through the wall and zooms into the sky in search of this old acquaintance. In addition to maintaining order on the streets tonight, a large number of police officers are out and about, probably searching for him. Dozens of people, some wearing all-black clothing and others in colorful ensembles, nonetheless clogged the sidewalks and side streets. There are posters of the departed stuck to buildings and lampposts, and candles along the sidewalks.
Individuals held flags supporting the police and the US. An American flag is flown at every corner, catching the breeze. All ages were seen walking the streets, and in remembrance of the fallen officers, tomorrow is a school and business closure for the most part. It was the responsibility of each and every local to come out and provide their support at this time of sadness and grief.
Danny gets closer to the well-known teal mansion and slows his descent. He moves through the roof and down through the ceiling. As soon as he sees the scene in the room, he turns around and blushes. Valarie stood before her reflection, wearing nothing but jeans. She caught sight of Danny as she was on the phone with a school friend. She quickly narrows her gaze at the ghost boy, annoyed.
"Imma call you back, Jenny," she communicated before hanging up.
"I'm sorry," Danny squeaks.
Valerie reaches for her bra, ignoring the boy's apology. She didn't really care what he saw—nothing that he hadn't already seen. But when anyone invaded the little solitude she had in this house, she fucking despised it. Valerie turns to face Danny, pulling a shirt over her head.
"You can turn around now."
Danny carefully swings around to face the green-eyed ghost hunter, smiling apologetically. It would be an understatement to say she looked angry, and properly so. Danny had to ask himself whether he was really in danger here.
"You better have a good fucking reason to be barging into my room like you own the place," she hisses.
"I'm sorry," he emitted. "But I was in a bit of a rush."
"Oh really? So that gives you the right to fly into my room uninvited?" Valerie mocks sarcastically.
"No," Danny mutters.
"Exactly, I'm so glad we learned our lesson," she smiles with fake cheer. "Now get the fuck out."
"I need your help, Val," Danny admits.
"That's not the way to ask," she snaps back, moving back over to her mirror to begin applying makeup.
"This is serious!"
"Ask me if I give a fuck, Fenton," Valerie interjects. "Here's a hint: I don't."
"Can you just listen to me for a second?" Danny pleads, throwing his arms up.
"I don't want to be dragged into your little world for once, if you can believe that."
"This isn't about me."
Valerie scoffs, "Yeah right."
"If you would just listen to me-"
Nah," Val interrupts as she whips around in her chair. "How about you listen to me for once and piss off; I need to get ready for this memorial and you're ruining my vibe."
"Val…"
The teenager sighs loudly, "Don't you have two other people you can bother?" Valerie pretends to think for a moment and smirks. "Oh wait, you push them aside like you do with everyone close to you."
"What are you talking about?" Danny urges.
"I'm talking about you being a shitty friend, silly goose."
"Who- when have I- what-"
"Use your words."
"Forget it," Danny ends. "Sorry for bothering you."
Valerie glances at the retreating boy and rolls her eyes. "What the hell do you want before I change my mind?"
"I need access to your dad's supercomputer.
"Why?"
"I'm trying to track a specific ghost."
Tucker wasn't sure why Danny had him get the ghost-fighting gear since he didn't think of himself as the sneaky sort—that was more Sam's lane. Most of the time, he stuck out like a sore thumb, but he assumed that since Sam was assigned to book duty, he would have to take over. He'd be eternally glad that Danny didn't assign him such a boring task.
Tucker questions if he should knock on the front door as he ascends his friend's front steps. That's not really a very cunning move. He questions whether he really needed to be so sneaky in the first place—the police weren't after him, but given his relationship to Danny, they would definitely want to question him. If he was apprehended, it would severely disrupt their plans. A thought flashes across his mind as he looks up at the fire escape. Tucker then realizes that he is a black man living in America. He decides to leave the James Bond-level infiltration to the James Bond-colored folks. Tucker approaches the door and knocks.
The door opens to reveal a red and puffy eyed Jazz who appears to have been crying for hours. Tucker's heart immediately melts for the redhead; he knows Danny must have told her nothing as usual, and she must remain at home, wondering if he will return alive or dead. Given that Danny has recently been acting in the same way toward him and Sam, he understands exactly how she must feel.
"Jazz?" Tucker greets, stepping closer to the door.
She sniffles, "Where is my brother, Tucker?"
"I was just coming here to ask you the same question; he hasn't texted back all day," he lies.
Jazz looks him dead in the eyes and Tucker has a hard time maintaining eye contact.
"He ran away from me, from his family, Tucker."
"May I come in?" he asks.
Jazz turns to head toward the kitchen, moving away from the front door.
"I'm sorry that Danny is being well—Danny," he answered.
If Tucker claimed he didn't give a damn about Danny's actions, he would be lying. Undoubtedly, one of Danny's main flaws is that he is a reclusive guy who lets his feelings fester. Danny will travel through three circles of Hell before disclosing to you exactly what's on his mind. Although he would risk his own life to solve someone else's situation, he feels that his troubles are solely his to handle. Tucker was unsure whether Danny felt that his problems were too personal to share with others or whether it disturbed them. Tucker learnt to deal with this.
Tucker's perspective is that if Danny does not want to tell him anything, he will not drive himself mad by thinking about it. He's repeatedly assured the teenager that he's there should he need to talk, but Danny must take the initiative. Tucker isn't willing to be the only one pulling; it's a two-way street. He can't say the same for Sam, though; whether she likes to admit it or not, she is completely smitten with Danny. She'll never stop worrying for him, and Tucker is certain that if Danny ever decides to treat her the way he treats his sister, she'll live to regret it.
Tucker understands that his best friend is now a superhero, and that things are very different for the trio, even though he believes they are not, and that dynamics will change. Danny is still learning about this hero thing; although he has been battling for a few years, he is still unfamiliar with the principles and practices of being a hero. One thing that never changes, or at least never should, is communication. Sam and Tucker are meant to be his closest friends and supporters, but how can they be that if he can't even communicate with them?
Tucker considers himself to be a fairly calm and laid-back person, but even he gets disturbed by Danny's obliviousness when he sees the impact his decisions have on others. Tucker labels it as obliviousness because he refuses to believe Danny is purposefully neglecting the feelings of those around him. Tucker is aware that Danny intentionally suppresses his own feelings, but he is not the type of person to do it to others.
"But I believe Danny keeps you in the dark for your own safety."
"Me? Isn't he doing the same thing to you?"
Clever woman. Tucker tells himself.
Tucker sighs, "Yeah, as much as I don't want to accept it, he is."
"My parents have been out searching for him just like they were out looking for him earlier when they heard he was missing."
"Damn," Tucker mutters under his breath.
"It's not that I don't want to support my younger brother but he takes so much out of us and he doesn't even know it."
"I know…"
"It just hurts when he closes me off."
"He takes you for granted," Tucker added. "He acts like you're some renewable resource that he can just take from."
Jazz sniffles and wipes her tears as she looks up at Tucker. She had told him that Danny wasn't here, and she was having trouble understanding why he was still here. Jazz was suffering from a terrible headache that made it painful to think. She pleaded with her parents to stay put, promising that Danny would return. However they didn't listen to her; nobody ever does.
"Listen, me and Sam are going on our nightly ghost patrols, wanna come with?"
"Ghost patrols?" she repeats with a light-hearted giggle. "You guys still do those?"
"Yeah, usually we only do it when Danny isn't available, i.e. right now."
"I would love- er I mean wouldn't I just slow you guys down?"
"Hell nah, come with us; I heard there may be funnel-cake stands."
Jazz's eyes light up and she smiles and sniffles again, "I'll go get my coat upstairs."
Tucker observes the redhead race upstairs and focuses his gaze to the basement door. Now is the best time ever to go acquire that gear. Tucker goes downstairs to Danny's parent's lab; he points out that every time he comes down here, the room becomes bigger and there's more things. Instead of this deluge of phantom technology, his parents should buy three or four storage units so they may turn their basement into a family or game area. He searches through several stacks of technology in search of the Fentonthermos.
"Bingo," he mutters as he grips the familiar silver thermos.
"If you wanted to take my parent's shit, you could have just asked instead of lying to me," Jazz snaps at the teen.
"Lie? How are we going to go on a patrol with no ghost equipment?" Tucker replies calmly.
"Oh um- yeah you're right; I'm sorry I just-"
"Help me sort through this stuff; Sam is blowing up my phone," Tucker interjects.
"Right!" she hurries over and begins looking through a pile of old tech.
Tucker looks across at the searching redhead; she looked much better after wiping her tears and spraying water on her cheeks. Tucker wanted to keep her busy so she didn't have time to think about Danny. She needs to leave the house and focus on her own life.
"Let me know if you find the Fenton fishing pole," Tucker asserted.
"That old thing?" Jazz chuckles. "What are you going to do with that?"
"In case I need to catch some BLOO fish."
Jazz burst out laughing, "Boo boo tomato tomato."
"Okay, here's another: what do ghost fishermen say to each other on Halloween?"
Jazz sighs with a chuckle, "What?"
"Trick or Trout!"
Jazz rolls her eyes and giggles, "You're so stupid."
"Tough crowd out here."
"Let's hope your ghost fighting skills are better than your jokes," she laughs.
"Oh? What was that?" Tucker asks, cupping his ear. "Lemme turn up my herring aid."
"Oh my God."
As Jazz rolls her eyes at Tucker, he snickers. He grabs the Fenton-Net and the Fenton Fishing Rod, packing them into a duffel bag he discovered. Glancing down at his watch, he reaches for Jazz's hand and bolts upstairs.
"Let's get out of here," Tucker declared.
Although Sam wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for, she preferred not to speak with the librarian. She's convinced she'll figure things out. The teenage goth looks for the sign that led her to literature about the paranormal, both fiction and non-fiction. Sam gazed at each section's numerous rows of shelves, thinking that if she had to look through all of these volumes, she would be here all night.
It was approximately two years ago, in her memory, that both of these categories had 20 novels. Sam is glad that more people are paying attention to paranormal phenomena since it means that more people will come to comprehend Danny and other spirits. Bigoted pricks who hate ghosts without any reason was the very last thing she wanted to see.
With the keyword "poltergeist" in mind, Sam looks through the different titles. There were a plethora of diverse works, the majority of which explored theories or research. There were a fair number of theological titles, which intrigued her. Despite her parents' differing views, Sam never really identified as a religious person. The "perfect" Christian family, her parents were, but when it came to lending a few pennies to the poor man on the street, all of their generosity vanished.
Sam's only issue is with the seeming followers of God's duplicity, not with God himself. Theology actually piqued her curiosity, and she was always curious about how it related to all the otherworldly phenomena in their society. Although Sam had an unfavorable view of Christianity due to her rigorous upbringing, this does not imply that she was not spiritual or faithful. Sam had her own beliefs about life, death, and the afterlife.
Sam laments not having brought her headphones so she could have rocked out while reading all of these books. She could really use some motivation. The adolescent brings a stack of books to the table and begins leafing through the pages to find some answers to her questions. As she flips through the pages, nothing significant jumps out at her, nothing that she and Danny didn't already know.
And speaking of, she had no idea, really, what Danny knew—at least not about this particular scenario. It's been really quiet, to put it mildly, these last several days. He hasn't been interacting with them as much as he usually does. Sam doesn't know where Danny has been or what he has been up to. Jazz had been blowing up her phone regarding her brother's whereabouts, but Sam was also unaware.
She had conflicting thoughts for the ghost boy because every time she thought she understood how he felt about her, he would act completely differently, confusing her. She got the impression that he didn't value her as much as he seemed to. Perhaps she is exaggerating, but what other reaction is there to his not telling her or Tucker anything? During his ghost-fighting career, he swore to keep them close, but ever since the night of the shooting, he has become more and more aloof.
She didn't think she could admit her feelings for him, especially given his behavior. Sam would much rather be a robot than experience these contradicting feelings. The teenager sighs and puts her head down on the table. She ought to be learning everything she can about poltergeists, but at the moment, all she can think of is Danny.
"Boy trouble?" a female voice greeted behind her.
From beneath her hands, Sam glances up at an elderly woman with a kind smile and graying hair. When the goth teen realizes that the woman is the librarian, she groans to herself. Sam did not want to chat to this geezer, especially because she had enough to worry about her research. Aside from the fact that this woman didn't mind her own business, how did she know Sam had problems with boys? Sam is not insane; she was not speaking to herself aloud. What gives the librarian the idea to inquire about boys? Sam shouldn't be putting too much stock in her comments; perhaps she misheard the woman.
"What?"
"I said that you looked troubled," the lady smiles.
Bullshit. Although both Sam and her are aware of what she initially said, none of them chose to pursue that conversation. Sam sits up and looks at the librarian, encouraging her to continue. She might as well listen to this woman's advice and cross her fingers that it will somehow be helpful.
"Not many people come to this section, you know," the librarian comments as she walks around the table, checking the titles of the books.
Oh, perfect, because small talk is exactly what she needs right now. Sam was always perplexed by how elderly folks could casually engage in conversation with total strangers about the most bizarre topics. It seems to her that loneliness has great power.
"Usually just progressive college students in search of an easy topic for their thesis, or edgy middle schoolers that think putting the bible in the fiction paranormal section is hilarious."
"Listen, lady-"
"Very few truthfully come in search of knowledge, and they leave even more ignorant than when they arrived."
Sam didn't grasp this lady's play; is she accusing her of being ignorant? Her coming here and saying that accomplishes little. Sam isn't taking the bait at this point, thus she's wasting her time as well as Sam's.
"And that's because these books are nothing but empty fantasies and speculation without any real insight on the reality of the paranormal."
"Lemme guess; you're an expert," Sam rolls her eyes.
"You can say that," she chuckles as she sits down.
With an inquisitive gaze, Sam fixes her focus on the woman with silver hair; the librarian reciprocates, raising her red spectacles. The woman's light green eyes seemed to be peering into Sam's soul, as though she was delving into her own thoughts.
"Well, expert, please do enlighten me," Sam announced. "I'm assuming you already know the topic."
"I did overhear your subject of focus," the librarian observes.
"Bullshit," Sam snaps. "I haven't said a word since I got here, so how about you reveal who you are before I get really mad."
The woman snickers, "You really are clever."
The librarian's long, silver hair turns into short, luminous red hair in the shape of devil horns; her wrinkles vanish and are replaced by perfect, taut skin; her distinctive makeup only enhances the beauty of her face; and the red glasses on her face change into black sunglasses.
"Spectra," Sam mutters.
"Mmm, please call me Penelope, sweetheart."
"Why am I not surprised?"
Penelope chuckles darkly, "A woman's gotta work."
"At the Amity Park library?"
"I always liked this little town to be frank."
"You definitely didn't act like it," Sam notes.
"Well after your little boytoy saved the planet, I had a change of heart and decided to help others instead of only myself."
"I doubt it, and Danny's not my boytoy!"
"Babes, you must have forgotten I have a Psy.D in psychology," Penelope comments. "I can read people like a book, and you, my dear, are a very simple picture book."
"Fuck you."
"So vulgar," Penelope hisses. "You mustn't want my help."
"I never asked for it."
"You will, eventually," Penelope corrects. "But your pride is getting in the way of asking sooner."
"God, I forgot how self-righteous you are."
Penelope snaps her fingers and rolls her eyes. In the palm of her hand, a tiny green fire ignites, and the embers spread till her hand's size. Spectra flips her palm like a magician, conjuring an old decrepit book from thin air. Sam glances at the old book; it has an alien alphabet etched into an old, soiled piece of parchment. Underneath the letters is a closed eye, which is all Sam can make sense of.
Spectra places the hefty book on the table and extends her palm over it. The book turns pages on its own, quite rapidly. Sam's only thought at this whole thing is how theatrical it is. Penelope uses her index finger to touch the page as the page flipping comes to an abrupt stop. Sam takes a closer look at what Penelope is pointing at; the page is crowded with indecipherable writing and weird symbols. The teenager acknowledged that some of the text was Latin, but the remainder of it was written in a foreign language. Half-expecting her to begin reading aloud from the page, Sam casts a sidelong glance at Penelope.
"You do know I can't read this right?" Sam blurted.
"Well darn that makes two of us."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" the teenager snaps at the older lady. "This is YOUR book!"
Penelope giggles, "Yes I just thought that it would be funny to say that."
"I don't exactly have time to mess around."
Spectra reads the foreign language easily, sweeping her finger from left to right. Sam pays close attention to the fresh information being provided to her. Malicious spirits known as poltergeists are able to materialize in the physical world by attachment to a particular individual, where they feed on that person's negative emotions and eventually their good ones. According to the book, poltergeists with sufficient strength can attach themselves to several victims at once, absorbing a large number of people's emotions. Because they can fully materialize in the world of the living, these ghosts are typically more powerful than other types of spirits.
One known weakness of a poltergeist is that it can be eliminated using its founding attachment through a ritual called Soulless Fiend's Transfiguration of Secrets, which was created by ancient heretic cultures. The first object or person they connected themselves to, which kept them suspended between the living and the dead, would be considered their Founding Attachment. The book issues a warning, stating that more experienced and powerful poltergeists may have a very secret and cryptic Founding Attachment, or it may be unavailable due to time or distance.
The next step, should a Founding Attachment be unachievable, would be to sufficiently injure the poltergeist with paranormal or magical attacks, and then employ a sealing ability to confine and catch the spirit. Although this won't completely remove a poltergeist, it should allow the victim enough time to find the Founding Attachment or come up with a fresh plan. Even while the entity can be sealed again, a spirit's tolerance for seals increases with each seal breach.
"By the look on your face, I can tell that you don't have the spirit's Founding Attachment," Penelope inquires.
"Would the book tell you what a spirit's Founding Attachment is?" Sam asks desperately.
"Not in this volume, this book only speaks of the original ghosts and if that's the entity you're dealing with, then sorry to say: you have already lost."
"And I'm assuming you don't have other volumes in your possession?"
"Penelope laughs, "Oh goodness, no, if you saw what I had to do to get this one."
Spectra shuts the book and inhales deeply. Her knees gave way beneath her as she attempted to stand. With a deep sigh, the redhead returns to her seat and massages her temples.
"Are you okay?"
"Somewhat," Penelope moans. "The book takes your life force in exchange for reading from it; since I don't have a life force, it takes ectoplasm."
"So basically without the Founding Attachment, we're screwed?"
Penelope frowns, "Unfortunately."
Sam finds herself in a difficult situation right now; although she gained additional knowledge about poltergeists, none of it is helpful to them. The teenager was overcome with a sense of worthlessness. Danny is relying on her to provide him with a strategy for defeating Nancy. She looks down at the ancient book as an idea begins to shape in her mind.
"Can I take the book with me?"
"What good would that do you?"
Penelope is correct. Sam wouldn't benefit much from the book in a fight. Sam had the unavoidable feeling that Spectra was withholding something important from her. Most likely, it had to do with the book and its mysteries.
"Whatever you're thinking, I can tell you right now that it's wrong," Penelope declares. "This book is way too powerful to fall into the wrong hands, aka you or any other person in this realm."
"I need something to bring back to Danny."
Penelope scoffs, "It never was about learning more about poltergeist, was it?"
"What?"
"You only care about keeping the hybrid happy, regardless of your own health or benefit."
"You're wrong."
"Am I?" Spectra laughs. "Did you already forget that I'm-"
"A grade-A psychologist," Sam interrupts. "Yeah I know, and I can do without you constantly psycho-analyzing everything."
"Sweetie please," Penelope blurts out, rolling her eyes. "I'm just calling it as I see it."
"Well stop," Sam demands. "Are you going to give me the book or not?"
"Or not; as if I could trust a child with something as powerful as this."
With a frustrated look on her face, Sam gets up from the table. She realized this was a waste of time. She was left with just enough information by Penelope to pique her interest but not fully satiate it. That wasn't worth it at all when she kept talking as if she knew everything about her.
"Thanks," Sam mutters sarcastically.
"But," Penelope interjects. She pulls a black bead bracelet off her wrist. "If you are truly in need of help, wearing this may help."
Sam takes the strange piece of jewelry and gives it a once-over. "How is this supposed to help me at all?"
"When you need it most, it'll grant you your greatest desire," Penelope exclaims.
Sam cocks an eyebrow at the redhead's absurd assertion. Capable of no longer suppressing a smile, Penelope doubles over with laughter at the perplexed look on the teenager's face.
"I'm just messing with you; you probably thought it was going to be some crazy riddle that you'll only understand in a dire situation like a children's story," She predicted. "The bracelet is a protection charm that I got from Kitty; it'll keep one person of the wearer's choice away from the wearer."
"Forever?"
"As long as you're wearing it; they won't be able to come near you, talk to you, touch you, or even look at you."
As Sam gripped the bracelet and felt the smooth, black beads, she noticed that each one had an odd symbol on it. She wears the piece of jewelry while displaying an expression of curiosity.
"Why are you doing this?" she inquires.
"Because-"
"And don't tell me it's out of the kindness of your own heart," Sam interrupts.
"Well if you must know," she chuckles. "Who wouldn't want the King of Ghosts to owe them a favor?"
Sam furrows her brow in perplexity, but she is unable to question the woman's claims since Penelope, along with all of the books, has vanished from the table. She assumes that this concludes her brief exchange with Spectra. Sam races out of the library as she checks her phone and realizes it's almost 7:30. The teen looks back briefly to see the original librarian wink at her. Sam leaves the library and immediately finds herself in the middle of a sea of people. People occupy every inch of the street and sidewalk. Sam has never in her life seen so many people. With no time to spare, Sam starts to force her way through the crowds of locals.