A/N: Hello! No, I haven't forgotten this story, worry not! My updates may be much slower than before, but I'll reach the end eventually. My goal is to finish this story before Halloween! (Ideally, I'll finish it before the next semester starts in September, but I'm not sure if that'll happen.) I need to spend less time watching K-Dramas and more time writing. ^_^' I just get really frustrated because I was on SUCH A ROLL before the hiatus and now I have to try and hit my stride again. I feel like it's starting to come back. I'm looking very much forward to writing the next chapter, so keep your eyes out for more frequent releases!

Chapter 25: Questions

Silence.

She can't hear a single thing echoing in her mind. Nothing bleeds over from his. However, all she can do at this moment is clench her trembling hands and swallow the impending tears.

Slowly, the ticking of the Fenton's kitchen clock reaches her ears.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Ms. Manson," the agent across the table growls.

"For what?"

"Daniel Fenton. You knew he was Inviso-Bill and failed to report this to the authorities."

"Last I checked, Danny Phantom was a world-wide hero, Agent," she replies calmly.

"You two were engaged?"

"We are engaged."

"You knew he was a ghost, and you still planned to marry him?"

"I do," she emphasizes, "There are no laws in this state against human-ghost relations."

He clenches his jaw, staring her down behind his mirrored sunglasses.

She crosses her arms and lifts her chin, "This is unlawful imprisonment. Where's my lawyer?"

"This is a matter of National Security, under the Terror Act-"

"-Then send me to Gitmo for interrogation. The weather's better there anyway."

He takes a deep breath, "I understand that you must be scared. A lot has happened. I can help you make it through this."

"I'm not saying another word until I get my lawyer."

"Ms. Manson, your fiancee is the leader of a faction about which we know nothing. They pose a threat to the U.S. Government, if not the world! You are duty bound to tell us what you know!"

She stares silently at him.

::Danny…?::

Nothing, he must be in the Ghost Zone, she resists the urge to sigh. He's alive. He has to be. He's recovered from worse. If they wanted him dead, they'd have killed him where everyone could see. He's alive. He's alive. He's al-

"Ms. Manson, we are at war!"

So are we! She wants to snap, but refrains.

He lowers himself back into his seat with a long sigh, "I understand that this must be hard for you. Please. For your country."

Silence prevails for the next hour of wheedling, threats, and implorings. Not another word crosses the gothic bride's amethyst lips. Ignoring the agent entirely, she thinks back over the past few years.

What an adventure.

Terrifying in so many ways. Books always talk about how wonderful love is, but...they never mention how frightening it can be. How it can drive some to madness, effect a change for the better in others. How it make you care for someone so much that the thought of losing them makes you sick. It's absolutely overpowering. I guess I can understand Impurity just a little…

The thought brings a smile, almost undetectable, to her lips.

She actually quite likes the red-eyed dark side to her fiance. He doesn't rear his head very often, but there's a palpable energy when he does. It's dark, seductive, and more than a little dangerous.

She knows, somewhere, that she has a similar being inside herself. One that wants to keep everything hers safe. One that wants power; the power to not be afraid. The power to protect her loved ones, the one dearest to her.

::You better be safe, Daniel Fenton.::

ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzBREAKzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZ

"You've managed to protect that visor all this time," Professor D sighs, his eyes looking forlornly over the smashed display, "It's worth a small fortune, what with all of the anti-ghost technology and detection equipment we've packed into it!"

"The Huntress is a bit feistier than your average ghost," Changeling shrugs, leaning back into his chair. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He feels sick, like he always does after using the suit. He feels as though he's rocking on a boat, struck by alternating waves of heat and cold that flare in his chest and quickly fade away.

"Are you alright?" Professor D questions, "You seem...pensive."

"I'm just tired."

"Your readings in the suit are looking better than ever, though."

"Doesn't mean it's not tiring."

"I suppose it takes a lot of concentration. Of course, I can't use the darn thing, so I wouldn't know."

"Hm."

After staring at him for a few moments in expectation, the scientist takes the ruined visor in his hands once again and rushes into a different room to work on repairs. Once certain he's alone, Changeling lifts and hand to his face, focusing on the chill when it blooms in his chest. Pale purple light, unlike the light the suit emanates, surrounds his fingers, finally sputtering into a lavender flame.

He releases the cold, and it flickers out, as though it had never been there.

I'm getting worse.

He knew there was something different about Amity, but he hadn't been able to place it until he'd donned his equipment. There's a real power here in Amity Park, something that fuels the paranormal. He knew the ghosts of Amity Park were different. They're more...animated than others he's fought.

Perhaps it affected Daniel Fenton.

This power seems to be affecting him, too.

Just as he considers summoning another flame, Agent F storms into the room, cursing up a storm.

"Those Fentons!" he cries, "They're a tight-lipped crowd. Won't say a word!"

Another weary agent stumbles in, nursing a black eye, "The Mansons, on the other hand, won't shut up," he groans, "I've never wished for someone to use their Miranda Rights more!"

Changeling chuckles.

"The man who married that mess must be a saint."

"Have you gotten anything useful, though?" Agent F questions.

"Just blubbering about how all of her plans are ruined and how all of the hard work she's put in to this wedding has all been for nothing, and…" he waves his hand, "You'd think we weren't in the middle of an impending crisis!"

"I think that's all the more reason for her to be a wreck," Changeling comments, "Stress builds up."

"...Speaking of stress, weren't you on vacation? Why in the world would you come to Amity Park?!"

"I was curious."

"About what?! Vacations are about drinking beer on a sandy beach and flirting with bikini-clad girls at your age!"

"Meh, not my type. I like bookworms."

"And for some reason, that meant Amity Park?"

"I don't diss your vacations."

"I don't take any."

"I suppose you wouldn't, seeing as you have no one to spend it with."

"...Ouch."

If they knew what was happening to me...would they still sit here and joke with me, or…? He laughs with the others, unease settling in his stomach like a rock.

He knows he's just a tool, a guinea pig for the Changeling experiment. He was just a runaway that no one had looked for, who had managed to show some aptitude for tolerating ectoplasm. They'll use him, study him, and throw him away once they're finished.

He started noticing the side-effects eighteen months ago, after the third test-flight. His eyes had turned bright, glowing magenta for a few minutes. He started phasing through things every once in a while. Then the flames had started.

Now, it isn't even restricted to the hours directly after being in the suit - he can almost always feel the ebb and flow of his humanity, stolen away by a ghostly chill. He's been able to confuse the observers and laugh-off any of the glitches that show in his examinations, but he can't keep it up forever - if he keeps hiding this, they could make other suits and give them to other agents.

That cannot be allowed.

He needs answers, but it's not safe to ask the questions he needs to here, to these people.

There are, however, other ghost experts in Amity Park.

ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzBREAKzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZ

Jazz sighs, burying her face deeper into her tear-stained pillow. Her mind keeps running through that afternoon, when Danny was run through. She keeps reminding herself that he's survived worse. Sam isn't panicking, so neither should she.

Thankfully, Valerie, Tuck, and Dani haven't been caught, as far as she can tell. She hopes they're okay, wherever they've taken shelter.

Thinking on the past few years, it's been a fascinating ride. She'd been worried that Danny was into something he shouldn't be, something shady. There were so many questions when she found out the truth, so many questions that even Danny didn't know the answers to. The scientist in her had thought of several theories, many of which could never be tested.

She has to admit that, deep down, she is her parents' child.

She glances over at her old alarm clock, absently wondering if it's really four in the morning. It feels as though it's been only a few minutes since Danny's secret was revealed, yet it feels as though she's been trapped in her own room for weeks.

There's a tap at her window, and she lifts her head.

How…? "Darren?"

He lifts a finger to his lips and gestures at the window, which she opens. He slips inside, his feet hardly making a sound, "You okay, Jazz?"

"I'm fine. How did you get...up…" her eyes scan over his body, taking in the white outfit, "...here…"

"Jazz, let me explain," he whispers, glancing worriedly at the door as her expression darkens.

She clenches her jaw, "Nevermind, get out."

"Jazz, please."

"What, you came here to scout things out for them? That's why you were asking about the ghosts?!"

"Jazz, pipe down!" he whispers, "They don't know I'm in here!"

"Yeah, right. You pretended to flirt with me just to get close to my family? So you can feed intel to your pals? You're...unbelievable. Don't know why I believed you, I mean, who in their right mind would come here for a vacation?! Why do I keep making this mistake?! I mean, I was stupid enough to trust Vlad-"

"-Jazz, stop!"

Her eyes go wide, and her mouth drops open a little. He can see neon purple reflected in them, and he closes his eyes, willing it to go away as he removes his hands from her shoulders and takes a step back. She has, however, fallen silent, and when he opens his eyes again, her expression is pensive.

"Darren...are you…? Do they…?"

"I came here because I know I can't tell them," he whispers, his voice tight, "The reason I came to Amity was because...I didn't know what's happening to me. I still don't."

"...Side-effects of the suit?"

"I think so."

"Sit down."

He perches on the end of her bed, and she takes his face in her hands.

"When did it start?"

"Eighteen months ago. It was the third test-flight."

She hums, her fingers moving to check his pulse, "is it always present, or just after you've used the suit?"

"It used to only be a few minutes after using it...and then a few hours...now I don't even have to be wearing it. Right now, I'm just in the white undersuit. I had to leave the main unit in the lab."

She hums again, "Phasing through things? Going invisible? Anything other than the eyes?"

"Yes, yes, and occasionally fire."

"I'm honestly not the greatest expert on the physical side, but you are a little chilly to the touch and your pulse feels a little slow. Not as much as Danny's, but there's definitely a difference. Have you been in any accidents?"

He shakes his head.

"So what…? Just long-term exposure?" she mutters under her breath, "That's not possible...is it?"

He watches her from the bed as she mumbles incoherently to herself, pacing slowly back-and-forth. A small smile pulls at his lips despite the situation.

"What?" she snips.

He raises an eyebrow.

"What are you smirking about?"

"I was just thinking that you're really beautiful when you're trying to figure something out," he replies candidly.

She flushes, "You're such a smooth-talker. Are you telling me everything?"

"Yeah, why?"

"We don't have any records of long-term exposure causing this sort of phenomenon...then again, I suppose that it's possible if the suit is cycling it directly through your body as opposed to simple outside exposure…?"

"What caused it in the other cases?" he questions, "...and how many cases are we talking about here?!"

"I'm not telling you."

"...you still don't trust me? My life is on the line."

"So is mine," she answers sharply, "And the lives of everyone I care about."

"Can you at least tell me what's wrong with me?"

She seems to think for a moment before responding, her eyes drilling into his, "...You're walking between the two worlds, and if you keep using that suit, it'll only get worse. I'm a little unsure as to how your metamorphosis will progress, but if you don't want to continually inch closer to death, you should stop using the suit."

Inch closer to death…

"Now get out."

"Jazz, you have to give me more than that," he rises to his feet, "please. You or someone has to know more-"

"If you want to know more, Changeling," she reaches up to grab his collar, pulling his face down to her level, "There's only one thing you can do."

Her eyes shine with frustrated tears, and she swallows thickly.

"Save my brother."

A/N: So, I'm pretty sure we all knew who Changeling was. Haha. Now we have another chapter in the JazzxGW or JazzxDarren competition! Who will win in the end, hm? ;P Please remember to Fav/Follow/Review! Doing so reminds me that I have a fanfic to write when I get caught up in something else.
P.S. A big Thank-You to Redargetlam95 for writing such a wonderful review and helping me understand how loved my story is!