Bet you thought this fic was dead. HA. Joke's on you.
Let's not waste any more time, shall we?
(Side note: If any Filipino readers happen to notice an error in any of the translated dialogue, please let me know! I had a couple of volunteers lined up over a year ago, and they also gave me some wonderful insight into Filipino culture and cuisine, but I've lost touch with them since then. Thanks!)
General Notes
"This is dialogue."
"This is alternative dialogue, meaning whispered or spoken from a distance such as on the phone."
'This is thought.'
THIS and this and *this* are emphasis. The *this* emphasis is more along the lines of the snarky or sarcastic.
[This is digital text, such as notifications on a computer or smartphone. It also represents A.I. voices, such as Karen or F.R.I.D.A.Y./"Friday" (because I really don't feel like typing out the full acronym with periods every time she comes up).]
I do not own Danny Phantom nor Spider-Man.
Ch. 13 originally published: Thursday, July 18, 2024
FIRE WITH FIRE
13 — FAHM
(Quick recap for returning readers: It's the night of the Filipino American Heritage Month festival, and Danny has invited Betty. Peter has realized he's ill-equipped to fight ghosts since none of his gear is ecto; plus, Karen detected a heartbeat when he last ran into Phantom as Spider-Man. Peter is determined that Danny should be a superhero with his ice powers, but Danny is reluctant to complicate his secret identities further.)
Sunnyside, Queens — Monday, October 3, 17:15
Peter scoffed. "How much longer is he going to be?"
May flipped to the next page of her magazine, pulling her left leg up onto the seat and resting her knee against their Volvo's door. "Cut him some slack. This is kind of a date for him."
"Still." Peter slumped back in his seat and stared up at their building's sixth-floor windows. Hurriedly shifting shadows indicated there was still life in Danny's room. "Hey, May, do you think ghosts have heartbeats?"
His aunt snorted. "I doubt dead things have hearts to beat. Don't slouch; I spent too much time ironing that Baroque."
"Barong," Peter corrected, and he shifted to a more proper posture. "I don't get it. Why would Phantom have a pulse then?"
May looked up from her magazine and then looked left out her own window. "Maybe ghosts have a sort of ectoplasmic internal construct that mimics a human's systems? Hell, he was in pain and even ghost-bleeding out when I sewed up his leg during the game last week."
"Karen hasn't registered pulses for any of the wraiths, though. Just for Danny Phantom."
"Weren't you saying how those things are basically a different species? They might function differently. You still haven't met any other sentient ghosts to judge."
Peter hummed a noise of noncommittal agreement.
The woman returned her attention to the full-page perfume ad staring up at her from the glossy publication. "Maybe ask the Fentons when you have your appointment at their lab tomorrow? I'm sure they'd know a thing or two."
Danny came bounding out of the lobby and jogged to the waiting Parkers' car. Sliding into the backseat, he said, "Hey! Sorry. Thanks for waiting."
"It's fine, Danny," May greeted as she returned to a driving position. Turning on the car, she added, "You look very dashing."
"My Homecoming slacks and a white shirt? I look like a businessman," Danny drawled.
"Maybe you can talk Ned's grandma into giving you one of her berets at a discount."
Peter opened his mouth to correct her.
"Barongs!" May interjected.
Her nephew nodded approvingly. "I wouldn't be surprised if Lola forces one on you either way," Peter said. "She's an awesome seamstress, and Ned has a hell of a time getting her to actually make people pay for it."
To May's bored dismay, the discussion diverted to their homework assignments which hadn't been finished yet that evening. However, it wasn't too long before she deposited the boys below the elevated event hall that had been constructed for the 1964 Stark Expo. Potted tropical plants already flanked the walkway from the circle drive to the entrance. Alternating blue and red lights lit the taller plants from below with twinkling yellow lights stringing through them, all referencing the colors and symbols of the Filipino flag.
Looking up, Danny marveled at the building's unique midcentury design. "What is this, an event hall or Titans Tower?"
Peter couldn't disagree. Above the ground-floor lobby and facilities, only four towers—one at the center of each face—supported the platter-like structure looming twenty stories above them. It gave a definitive T-shape to each face of the square building.
When the elevator doors opened upstairs, Danny and Peter were not prepared for the assault of chaos that met them. While dozens of people were putting the final touches on each stand, table, and display populating the ballrooms, still more were frantically running about putting out fires. As it would turn out, some fires were far more literal than one would hope.
"Thank god you guys are here," Ned greeted as he dipped out of the traffic flow. "We've been having electrical issues all afternoon. There was even a fire in the service corridor!"
"Holy shit! How bad was it?" Peter asked.
"It could have been worse, but man, the wiring here could really use an update. We had to disconnect a bunch of the lights we put up."
"Hey, the show must go on!" Danny encouraged somewhat awkwardly.
Ned took a deep, steadying breath before replying with a smile. "That's the spirit! Come on, Lola wants to meet you before Imelda puts you guys to work."
He led the way into a ballroom that had been dedicated to crafts and goods stands. In one corner were sprawling racks of white, gold, and colorful barong tagalogs with an elderly woman fussing over them. Directly adjacent to her booth was a display of Yakkan weavings and scarves, all with similar colors, as well as a makeshift curtained dressing room.
"Lola, kilalanin mo ang kakaibang kapitbahay ni Peter na sinasabi ko sa iyo,"(Lola, come meet Peter's weird neighbor I was telling you about) Ned said. In English, he continued, "Danny, this is my grandmother. Everyone calls her Lola."
"Hello, Sir Danny!" the elderly woman greeted with a smile and a shake of Danny's hand. She then pulled Peter into a tight hug before gesturing for Danny to follow her. "Ned had me make this for you," she explained and brandished an icy blue barong tagalog.
"Oh…are you sure? I already have a shirt," Danny said and demonstrably pulled on the fabric of his loose dress shirt's white sleeve.
"No no, boring American." Lola laughed and held up the barong for the teen to admire. "Bagay 'to sa mata mong parang arktiko." (This goes with your eyes that are like the arctic.)
Danny checked with Ned, who nodded furiously and translated. "She said it goes with your eyes."
Danny finally, hesitantly, took it. "Uh…ok? Thank you."
"Try, try." Lola pushed Danny into the changing room and closed the curtain behind him.
Hearing a conversation strike up outside, Danny carefully unbuttoned his shirt and hung it on a hook. The barong slid on easily and stretched to fit his proportions, though it definitely hugged his increasingly athletic frame more than expected. Danny emerged, halting the conversation. "Uh, is it traditionally this form-fitting?" he asked and went to the nearest mirror. Lola came up behind him to check the fit.
"Oh, heck no," Ned confirmed, gesturing to his far looser purple barong.
"Then why—?"
"Better for a date," Lola interrupted as she smoothed the shoulders and upper arms. Danny contorted just in time to see her send an obvious wink to her grandson.
"Ned!" Danny complained.
"What?!" the boy protested. "Was it a lie?"
Lola stood back and admired her work. "Perpekto."
Danny shot a questioning glance at Ned.
"Perfect," the younger Filipino translated.
"Well, at least it's still flexible," Danny grumbled and twisted his spine to test its limits.
Ned clapped his hands together. "Okay, now that you guys are suited up, we need some serious help setting up to make up for lost time."
"Aye-aye, captain," Peter responded with a mock salute.
While Peter surreptitiously used his enhanced strength to move crates and equipment for the various stages, Danny was quickly pointed in the event coordinator's direction. Imelda, a frazzled but elegant and hyper-competent woman around his mom's age, greeted him with a tight hug.
"A blessing from above!" she squeaked. Releasing Danny from the hug, she started power-walking across the space. "Okay, I can't be in multiple places at once, so I need you to be my runner-slash-family wrangler. Find Robert upstairs—my husband, blond, tall, wearing a grey suit—and make sure he has all of the awards on display upstairs for the competitions. Then see if Carly the DJ has everything set up for the sound systems, and tell her she better play the 'FAHM Night Playlist' not whatever rap-trap-crap she's always listening to at home. Find Ned for tech support if you guys are having trouble. And Dennis and Dylan—identical twins, don't ask me which is which, it doesn't matter—they need to call their desserts decorated as-is and kick their butts into high gear already. They're running the silent auction and I don't see any clipboards. Once you've done all that, come find me again. Got all that?"
Danny blinked.
Half an hour later found Danny carrying a box of unused extension cords past the elevator bays. One of them dinged and deposited the first wave of guests into the event, Betty included.
"Hey, Danny!" she greeted.
"Hey, welcome!"
Betty gave him a quick side hug as best as she could despite the box in his arms. "Need help with anything?"
"Oh, no, I think we're good now. It's been crazy, though. Lemme just drop these off at the sound booth and then we can hang out?"
"Sounds good! I'll start getting some pics of the booths and stuff for the school paper."
Danny hurried to rid himself of the box and ran back to Lola's booth. Peter and Ned watched on in amusement as Danny used the mirror to fix his hair and straighten the barong.
"Whoa, someone's in a hurry," Ned quipped.
With a final tug on his cuffs, Danny spun on his heel to face them. "How do I look?"
Peter smirked. "I'm sure Betty will just be impressed you finally wore something other than that NASA tee."
Danny scoffed, ignoring Ned's snickers. "Yeah, well, if it ain't broke—"
"It's broke," Ned interjected, leading Peter to snort.
Danny rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm gonna go find Betty. Did you see which way she went?"
"She just came by to take a picture of Lola," Peter supplied. "I think she said something about the dance competition?"
"Okay cool. Thanks, guys!" Danny wove his way through the growing masses and ran upstairs. As he meandered, the teen repeatedly stood on tiptoe to locate his date's pale blonde locks.
Danny soon found Betty casually leaning against the roof terrace's balcony while the first group of dancers set up. He didn't quite slow down in time to hide his hurry from the girl. He grinned sheepishly and said, "Hey."
"Hey! I hope you didn't rush on my account."
"I literally rushed on your account, but…"
Betty giggled, pushed off of the railing, then turned back to face the makeshift stage. "The competition is about to start. I love their costumes!"
"Yeah, it should be awesome. Ned was saying it's usually between tribes or something, but these guys are just making their own groups up with whoever a) lives in New York and b) even wants to do it."
"Nice," Betty said. "Have you ever done something like this?"
Danny thought for a moment. "Well, I was the judge for a beauty pageant once?"
"Oh really? I honestly didn't see that coming."
"Yeah, I didn't see the arranged marriage or a dragon coming either," he quipped.
Betty snorted. "What?"
"Nothing." Danny nervously rubbed his neck.
"So, was this the same alleged dragon that attacked the school dance?"
"Yes." He thought for a moment. "Well, no. Sorta. That one was my friend Sam when she put on a cursed amulet that actually belonged to this dead princess, who then posed as a living beauty queen to find a bride for her brother."
Betty's jaw dropped. After a second, she had collected herself again. "You know, one day I hope I'm able to not react to the absolutely unhinged things you say."
Danny sighed wistfully. "I miss the days when they still shocked me."
Filipino pop music then stopped playing through the sound system, and the crowds began shifting into a semicircular arc around the stage. Danny and Betty took that as their cue to claim a good spot from which to watch and record.
"Well," Betty began, "I guess I'd better get used to wild stories if I'm going to have a future in journalism."
"You wanna become a reporter?"
Betty held up her phone and notepad. "What, you thought I just did this stuff for extra credits?"
"I dunno…maybe?"
She shook her head dismissively. "People are so interesting, Danny. What they show the world, what the world sees on accident, what's really going on inside their heads… It's such a complicated, tangled web that I just can't help but pluck at." The blonde turned her head to look straight into her date's eyes. "Like you."
Danny paled. "M-me? What's so interesting about me?"
Her eyes roved down and back up his form. "You have secrets, Danny Fenton. And I can't wait to find out what they are."
"What?! What do you mean? I don't have secrets," he said with an unconvincing huff of a laugh.
"Danny…" Betty giggled. "I just mean, you're an interesting person. A lot more interesting than you give yourself credit for. And I want to get to know you better. That's why we're hanging out. Right?"
The boy strained his face into a smile. "Ah. Right. For sure."
"Hey, there you guys are!" Ned called. He and Peter approached, each carrying an extra plate of food. "We brought some food before the buffet gets too crowded."
"Hey, Betty," Peter greeted, handing his extra plate to her.
"Parker," she greeted curtly but accepted the food.
"C'mon, how long are you gonna hold that over me?" he muttered lowly.
Betty haughtily grabbed an empanada with her pinky fully extended. "Until my best friend Liz forgives you for ditching her at the Homecoming dance, but she moved across the country, so it'll probably never happen, so forever."
"Ugh," Peter groaned and took an angry bite of Bicol express.
A loud drum beat interrupted their conversation, signaling the start of the first dance routine. Several performers in matching warrior gear and headdresses began moving through powerful, staccato movements. The drums ceased momentarily and the dancers paused, eliciting cheers from the crowd, before recommencing into more fluid movements to a less stilted beat.
Two routines later, the teens made their way back downstairs to the food and drinks. Peter and Danny left the other two meandering through the craft stands while they went to retrieve cups of buko pandan, a sweet green drink with coconut flesh, tapioca pearls, and pandan plant jelly cubes that carried a vanilla and hazelnut flavor.
Peter took a sip of his drink while Danny prepared portions for himself and Betty. He noticed when Danny stilled slightly at the site of a bucket of ice next to the neighboring drink options. "So how much longer are you gonna pretend you're not gonna be a superhero?" Peter prodded.
"Ssh!" Danny angrily hushed, checking for anyone nearby. "It's never gonna happen."
"C'mon Danny, you've got a gift." Peter shifted to a more playful smile. "Plus, I bet you'd beat Phantom in the hometown hero popularity vote pretty easily."
Danny glared. "Danny Phantom is a hero, and I'm tired of everyone shitting on him. But yeah, he already protects Amity Park, Spider-Man already protects Queens, the Avengers have…everything else. Snow Cone Boy just isn't a necessary addition to the superhero lineup. And I'd very much like to not violate the Sokovia Accords, thanks."
"You could keep a secret I.D. and operate vigilante-style, though!" Peter pointed out.
"That's definitively violating the Accords!"
"Still! You would just need to cover your face. Like a Guy Fawkes mask or that…ninja…face wrap…thing," Peter finished while miming wrapping his head.
"A zukin?"
"You know what it's called?"
Danny hesitated. "…Tucker and I were extremely bored this summer."
"Okay, so do you know how to tie it?"
"Yeah, sorta," Danny agreed. "Wait, that's not the point!"
"The point is, you can do so much good with your powers!" Peter encouraged. "Hell, you could even team up with Spider-Man and catch Phantom if he goes too rogue."
Danny's jaw went slack. "What?" he asked, meekly.
"Yeah, your ice seems to work on trapping ghosts, so—"
"But why would I ever need to trap Danny Phantom?"
"I dunno, he's a little suspicious, don't you think?" Peter shrugged. "What if there's more to him than he's letting on? Like, isn't it weird he shows up after your ghost-hunting parents start working with Stark Industries?"
Danny's jaw almost tightened into a harsh glare before he caught himself. "I believe in Danny Phantom. It would sure be nice if everyone else would too."
"Damn it, Danny, I believe in you. What if something goes wrong? Would you seriously just sit back and let disaster strike?"
Danny felt a chill dance along his nerves. With a frigid breath, he spat, "No, I'd call the fire department."
Peter appeared ready to object but instead shifted to a concerned expression and wordlessly gestured to his eyes. Realizing his own eyes were swimming with glowing arctic energy, Danny swiftly left his friends so he could cool off, or rather, heat up. He found solace in the relative peace and quiet of the elevator lobby. Danny leaned heavily on a table adorned with a bouquet of vibrant pink Rose Mallow flowers. He exhaled and focused on resorbing the energy into his core. The other guests were happy to ignore him and continue partaking in the festive chaos just beyond the lobby's threshold.
Having recentered himself after a few nervous moments, Danny straightened and stretched his hunched back. The boy found himself with renewed eagerness to find his friends. Before he could get too far, though, the sounds of muffled shouts and breaking glass caught his attention. Danny looked over just in time to see the entirety of the catering staff scurrying out the kitchen door. Concerned, or perhaps merely curious, Danny shoved his hands in his pockets and casually crossed to the still-swinging kitchen door.
It was at that moment a familiar sensation taunted his core, causing it to pulse and freeze his breath. It had been a long time since his ghost sense had activated without the now-familiar oppression of a wraith's aura. Silently wishing he'd kept up the habit of carrying a Fenton Thermos, he cautiously entered the workspace.
An alcoholic aroma assaulted his nose, and Danny paused upon hearing the crunch of glass under his shoe. Countless bottles of lambanog, a potent coconut palm liquor, were scattered across the floor. The puddle of booze covered a large surface area from where he stood to all the way to below the stove, and the liquid was already seeping under the door into the lobby.
One recognizable glowing figure phased out of the walk-in refrigerator, arms full of ingredients. Her familiar cafeteria uniform and hair net caught Danny by surprise. "Lunch Lady? What are you doing here?" he asked.
The elder ghost spun to face him and instantly smiled. "Hello, dearie! I didn't expect to bump into you in these parts."
"Uh…yeah. Why are you so far from Amity?" The boy casually meandered around the island, hands now out of his pockets and ready for a surprise attack.
"Oh, well, when that new portal opened up, I just had to explore it, don'tcha know? Then I sensed these people ruining a perfectly good rice pilaf with spices, of all things," she explained with a scoff. The woman then held out a platter left behind by the staff. "Cookie? I don't know what kind they are, but they look scrumptious!"
"No thanks." Danny's nervous system then pulsed with anxiety. "Wait wait wait, portal?"
"Yes, right in the breeding ground of those beastly wraiths. But with the other portal closed in Amity, our options are limited."
"Is it a natural one? Or did my parents build another one already?"
"No, it wasn't natural. It probably wasn't your parents, either; I couldn't smell any fudge at all! No, no, it was in a different lab."
"Where?"
Before Lunch Lady could answer, a sous chef entered with a box in hand. He screeched upon seeing the ghost and tossed the box onto the worktop before sprinting away. The box bumped into an open jug of cooking oil and knocked it over, the liquid spilling across the counter, onto the floor, and down the front of the oven. A few small drops went into a pilot light on the industrial stove and ignited, instantaneously sparking the rest of the oil along the worktop and oven.
"Oh my god!" Danny exclaimed. He ran to grab the fire extinguisher.
It was virtually empty.
"Shit, the fires earlier!" He tossed the useless canister aside then tried pulling the fire alarm.
Nothing. The electrical fires must have damaged the system.
"Uuummm…" Danny looked down at his hands, panicking. "Uuuhhh…"
Before he had the chance to come up with a new plan, a droplet of flaming oil made contact with the lambanog. The high-proof alcohol lit ablaze and sent the fire chasing out into the public spaces.
"Oh, dear, that's not ideal," the Lunch Lady observed.
Danny sent a deadpan glare in her direction. "Ya think?"
"I'll get out of your hair, little halfa," she cooed with a pat on his head. "Keep an eye out for those GIW goons! They followed me here."
"What?!"
The woman disappeared before he could react further. With nothing else he could do, Danny ran out into the lobby. The puddle had spread enough to make contact with the wooden table he had previously used for support. To his horror, the fluid had also made its way under the door of a janitor's closet.
Danny quickly whipped out his phone and dialed the emergency services. As it rang, he saw the closest people beginning to notice and run for the nearest stairs.
"911, do you need police, fire, or medical?"
"Fire!" he replied. "There's an oil and alcohol fire in the kitchen at the Terrace on the Park and—" He yelped when the closet door exploded outwards with a billow of smoke and an acrid smell "—and now cleaning supplies! It's starting to spread and the fire alarm and sprinklers aren't working."
"We have trucks two minutes away. The ladder truck is further though, so hang in there. How many people are present? Have they begun evacuating?"
"It's a Filipino-American Heritage Month thing. There's like a thousand people here at least." He wiped his brow then dragged a hand down his face. He then heard the rapid clacking of approaching high heels.
"Danny, what is going on?!" Imelda exclaimed.
"There's a fire," he supplied helpfully.
"Why hasn't anyone pulled the fire alarm?! Where are the sprinklers?"
"They must have been damaged earlier! What with the electrical fire and the power outage…Ahk!" The flames caught the edge of her dress and she ran flailing. "Help me! Somebody help!"
"Stop drop and roll! Stop drop and roll!"
"Is somebody on fire?" the operator asked.
"Yeah, but she won't stop, drop, and roll," he huffed and began chasing after her.
It was too late. Imelda's voluminous dress had caught several tablecloths as she ran, spreading the flames further through the space. The crowds had finally realized what was happening and began to panic and scream.
"Shit it's spreading fast," Danny informed the operator. "Are those trucks almost here yet?"
"One minute away. Get those people to evacuate!"
"I'll do my best. Please hurry!" He hung up and realized Peter had appeared beside him.
"Well, I'm guessing you called the fire department," Peter drawled.
Danny side-eyed his friend.
"If only there were somebody here already who could help put out the flames." Peter extended his arm with a long strip of bright blue cloth hanging from his grasp. "I thought you might need this to help…prevent smoke inhalation."
Danny eyed the kitchen door where everything could have been contained had he used his powers. With a hard-set frown, he snatched the fabric away from his neighbor. "I hate you sometimes. You with your stupid Jiminy Cricket complex."
"Always happy to be of moral service," Peter glibly retorted with a salute.
By this point, the fire had spread through each of the ballrooms on the building's penultimate floor. It wasn't hard for Danny to slip unnoticed behind Lola's flaming barongs and re-angle her mirror towards his hiding spot. He took Peter's sash and pressed it across his forehead and scalp, wrapped the fabric around his head, tied a knot behind him, and left most of the remaining fabric on one end. He took the longer end and wrapped it around once more, this time over his nose and mouth. With a second knot secured at the base of his skull, Danny took but a moment to appraise his reflection.
The head covering, a forgotten Yakkan scarf, left all but his eyes and brow obscured. Its vibrant color matched both his barong and eyes, giving the ensemble a harmonious appearance that contrasted with the black of Danny's slacks and shoes.
"Well, at least I look the part," Danny quipped to himself.
The first priority was clearing the escape routes. With the help of Imelda's panicked run and the thoroughness of her decorating, the fire had found quick and easy paths through all four ballrooms. Only one staircase was safe, albeit inaccessible due to the widespread flames. A crowd of people had gathered around it—Ned, Betty, and Lola included—all hoping to find a way through.
"Everybody get back!" the reluctant hero shouted over the chaos. His request devolved into coughing as his throat suffered from the mix of strain and smoke.
Nobody heeded him until he began charging a ball of ice in his hands. The nearest guests finally stumbled backward and gave him just wide enough of a berth to pierce through the flames. The orb exploded forth and created a tunnel of ice leading straight through to the emergency exit. The ice had swirled in on itself to create a circular hallway of sorts. Some of the excess energy had burst around Danny and his blast as well.
Lola shivered, covered in frost and rubbing her arms for warmth. "Hay! Ingatan mo! Kasing lamig na ng Arktiko!" (Be careful! It's as cold as the Arctic!) she frantically cried as several people ran past. Lola briefly stilled when her eyes fell on the boy's barong.
"Sorry, still learning control," Danny apologized obliviously. He checked his work and realized it wouldn't hold long; at certain parts, drips were already starting to rain down from the heat of the surrounding fire. "Everybody move! Go! Go! Go!"
The crowd leaped into motion and stampeded past Danny. His skin crawled, though, when one girl wasn't ushered away with the rest.
"Who are you, new hero?" Betty asked, camera phone in his face. Danny squinted under the brightness of its flashlight.
"Not important," he rasped. "Go."
"But—"
"Betty, c'mon!" Ned shouted and grabbed her arm.
"Wait! Danny! Has anyone seen Danny?"
"I'll make sure everyone's out. Now go!" Danny hoarsely ordered.
Ned finally dragged Betty into the ice tunnel, and the pair ran after the rest of the escapees. Landing upon a clockwise approach, Danny turned his attention to the next staircase.
This tower had been engulfed in flames thanks to the garlands that had been wrapped along several floors of the stairs' railing. One man—Imelda's husband Robert, Danny realized—was just using the last of his fire extinguisher's contents to put out what blazes he could. The guests instead had to hug the innermost part of the stairs and go down single file.
"Everybody stay back from the walls!"
"No shit!" someone called in reply, sounding an awful lot like Charles from the Academic Decathlon team.
With a roll of his eyes, Danny funneled more icy energy into his hand. He gripped the uppermost part of the railing and released a surge of power that chased along the metal's length. The rush of cool air created a small vortex within the stair tower and fogged the space into a frozen wonderland.
"Thanks, Ice Dude."
Danny cringed. "Yeah, that's not my name."
"What is it then?"
"Still need to hear back from the focus groups," he quipped.
Moving on to the next space, he saw the toppled buffets with chafing fuels still lit. A group had huddled on the floor along the innermost wall of the room, mercilessly trapped by the inferno. Danny aimed his hands at the floor and paved a wide path of ice from the group to the nearest stairs. Several spikes grew larger than he'd wanted, and the construct resulted in an explosion of steam, but the maneuver effectively created a fireless strip for them to escape. Two massive walls of ice steamrolled their way across disintegrating tables and chairs and found purchase on the carpet and dance floor. The terrified yet grateful civilians ran past with scattered thanks.
The poor hero had little time to enjoy his latest victory. Dread overcame Danny when he noticed a single green dot on his chest. He traced its path through the smoky air and found its source: a GIW drone hovering outside the window.
"Wait! No, I'm trying to help!" Danny yelled. He dove for cover, but it was too late.
A high-powered ectoblast shattered the pane of glass standing between the drone and its target. It struck Danny and sent him flying to the floor. He choked for air and writhed around, desperately trying to reorient himself.
A lone GIW agent had taken the opportunity to swing in via the shattered window; he somersaulted to his feet and drew his weapon on Danny.
"Stand down by order of the GIW!" an annoyingly familiar voice demanded. "The premises are surrounded!"
With a cough, Danny shifted enough to identify his aggressor. "Agent K," he spat.
The agent didn't advance, apparently unsure of Danny's next move. Instead, he stood back and maintained his aim. However, the ringing in Danny's ears had lethargically retreated enough to reveal a horrifying new sound: the whoosh of fresh oxygen through the absent window. Wide-eyed, Danny quickly rolled onto his stomach and sheltered his head, tucking his face into the crook of his arm just in time.
Flames ballooned over the boy. The force of their rapid expansion blew out the surrounding windows next to where the laser had entered, further metastasizing the fire. A chandelier swung wildly in the air displacement until it snapped free of its mount and crashed to the floor. Now the entire ballroom had been engulfed once more, the lovingly crafted goods reduced to indiscriminate fuel as dislodged ceiling tiles rained down around them.
Agent K cried out in surprised pain from the backdraft and lost his footing, dropping his gun in favor of patting out the flames threatening to consume his suit. Without thinking, Danny leaped up and charged his hands with ice, throwing a cool blast onto the suffering agent. The man calmed, and the two opponents stared at each other, both frozen in shock.
One floor above, pandemonium had descended upon the dance competitors and spectators as they found themselves trapped with flames and smoke billowing out of the stairs. Little did the participants know that the force of their routines' synchronized jumps and stomps had been enough to weaken the floor. Before they'd realized what was happening below, the concrete splintered into rubble and imploded.
The roar above his head snapped Danny out of his stupor. He snatched K by the lapels and heaved him to the side. Danny dove after him just in time as the rubble crushed the spot the pair had previously occupied. It came to a near-instant rest with countless people scattered on top of it.
While the rubble had smothered part of the flames, the encircling ballroom was still ablaze. The collapse, though, had severed several water pipes as well as the faulty sprinkler system, so water began to cascade down the shards of concrete like post-apocalyptic waterfalls.
Danny turned to the agent beside him. "You good, man?"
K's jaw was uncharacteristically slack. After a momentary unreadable expression behind his dark glasses, he closed his mouth, set his jaw, wiped the sweat from his brow, and steeled his face once more. "Affirmative."
"Sorry your gun got crushed. Guess you can't kill me now." At that, Danny stumbled forward and reached for the nearest fallen attendee. "Help me, will you?"
Agent K hesitated before his conscience finally overtook his hatred of all things ecto. Standing, he activated his comms device. "Agent requesting backup. Multiple civilians are down…. Negative, other circumstances….Damn it, the whole building's on fire! Let them through!"
"Lemme guess," Danny grunted as he lifted an unconscious, bleeding dancer. "Your buddies were blocking the fire department for the sake of asserting the GIW's jurisdiction."
"Listen, punk, I'm only helping because civilians are in danger. We have our orders."
"The GIW caring about civilians and collateral damage? HA! That's a first."
A helicopter came to hover overhead with another fast approaching on the horizon. Several GIW agents rappelled onto different points of the rubble heap and swiftly drew their weapons on Danny.
"Um, hello? Hurt civilians?!" Danny sassed.
"Don't. Move," growled Agent O.
"O, the target is non-hostile," K said from behind the teen. "There are other humans to save."
"K, restrain him."
Danny nervously swallowed. "Um, dude? People are in danger—"
"O, I must insist—" Agent K began.
"K!" Agent O bellowed.
The outburst silenced his colleague's protests as well as any movement in the room. The only sounds remaining were the dripping of the water pipes, the sirens of the fire trucks downstairs, and the crackles of the once-more-growing fire.
"We have a direct order from Alpha to contain this ectodeviant. Take out. Your goddamn. Cuffs."
Nobody breathed.
Danny glanced between O and his nervous, armed subordinates. He soundlessly pooled some ice in his clenched palms.
All it took to break the spell was K taking a single step. Danny opened his hands palms down and created an instant, massive wall of ice between himself and the hostile GIW agents. He simultaneously used the recoil's force to launch himself backward. The boy then tumbled and ran for the threshold into the next space.
A singular green blast singed his barong and pushed him to the floor amongst the burning silent auction tables. Danny managed to contort enough to see who had gotten him. Agent O's malicious grin peeked through a gap in the ice wall, his ectoweapon still smoking as several drones lowered themselves through the opening in the ceiling. The remaining civilians, who had been left to fend for themselves, grabbed their unconscious friends and hastened for the emergency exit.
The temperature…plummeted.
"This isn't ideal," K muttered.
Only a sliver of Danny's face was exposed, yet it contained the fury of an army. His eyes shined like beacons in the smoke. The wind circled around him, easing Danny to his feet and threatening to loosen his makeshift zukin. As he walked back in the direction of the agents, the black smoke diluted into snow-white powder as energy swirled along Danny's arms. The wind, the energy, the glow, the glare crescendoed until—
The teen released the full power of his blast against the circling drones, pouring all his frustration into a coinciding scream that amplified his focus on the attack. One by one, the drones were encased in ice and dropped out of the sky. The indiscriminate attack continued beyond and connected with the overhead GIW helicopter, killing its engine and sending the vehicle spiraling into the trees below.
Danny finally stopped the blast and panted. He collapsed against a wall and realized dozens of eyes were staring at him in fear. "I'm—I'm trying to help, I promise," he said feebly. With a sidelong glance at the nearest escape route, its door bent out of shape and leaning against its frame, he summoned the energy to heave himself off the wall and pull the door out of the way. The onlookers took that as their cue to act and all rushed to get out of there until Danny was alone.
He coughed violently from all the smoke and exertion. According to a quick appraisal, it appeared that with the group from the roof collapse, everyone had escaped more or less safely.
An unsettling moan echoed through the space and pooled in Danny's gut. His mind flashed back to the popsicle stick bridge project he'd done in 8th-grade physics. The bridge had extended between desks, serving as a lesson in weight distribution as well as a test to see how much it could handle. When the weights were distributed evenly along the length of the bridge, it would flex but compensate for the load evenly. When the same weights were all piled at a single point in the center, however, the wood of the popsicle sticks moaned in protest before—before…
He needed to get out of there.
The stairs would take too long in his current state. Before the boy could even consider his ghost powers, however, he was instantly surrounded in a semicircle of agents, his back to one of the shattered windows. Agent O stepped forward with his gun drawn and glowing handcuffs ready.
"You are in violation of the Anti Ecto Control Acts," O droned.
"I'm not a ghost, dude," Danny growled. "It's just ice."
"Ghost ice, you ectoplasmic scum. You're under arrest for unlawful use of ectoenergy and destruction of several million dollars' worth of government property."
Thwip
A single point of pressure poked Danny in his spine. He was instantly yanked backward with a startled "Hwah!" and found himself flying out the window and into the trees. He was then gently lowered to the ground and released. Danny looked up and saw a figure swing away through the foliage as a lone spider web drifted to the ground.
An announcement echoed through his surroundings from a new helicopter's PA system: "All units, be advised: teenage male, five foot nine inches tall, 160 pounds, blue eyes, wearing a blue dress shirt and matching head covering."
Danny checked his surroundings before stripping out of his shirt and losing the zukin. He felt odd, but a bare torso was a better alternative than his easily identifiable disguise. Danny snaked through the brush until he found himself at the edge of the masses waiting in the parking lot. One or two people took notice of him, though most were enraptured by the fire department working to put out what was left of the fires.
"DANNY!" Betty screamed.
The boy in question turned and saw his date shoving her way through the crowd with her phone in hand, recording the scene around them. She tackled him into a hug while doing her best to keep the phone level.
"Oh my god, Danny, I'm so glad you're all right! Peter went looking for you in the crowds and couldn't find you anywhere." She pulled out of the hug. "Where were—wait, where's your shirt?"
"Uh, it caught on fire," Danny lied. "It got pretty destroyed so I just ditched it."
Consciously or not, Betty angled her device slightly downward. "Has anybody ever told you you're surprisingly fit?"
"Thanks," Danny drawled with a roll of his eyes. "Um, is that a live stream?"
"Oh. Yeah."
Danny self-consciously folded his arms over his exposed chest. More sincerely, he asked, "Is everyone else okay? Peter, Ned, Lola…?"
"Yeah, everyone's fine thanks to the ice guy. Did you see him at all?"
"Y-yeah, like, he helped me escape, so—"
"So what can you tell me about him? Was his voice familiar? Do you think he's a student at Midtown? Is his name Artiko?"
"Wait wait wait, Artiko?"
"Yeah, some people said they heard Lola call him that, and it kinda stuck. I was pushing for Cryo Teen, but—"
"Ew, barf, no. Not Cryo Teen."
"So it is Artiko?"
"…Sure?"
Some screams drew their attention back to the structure looming over them. Betty whipped the phone around and focused on what was happening.
"Everybody get back!" a firefighter shouted over a bullhorn.
Rubble had begun raining down from the ballroom into which the roof had collapsed. With a series of pops and groans, the disc-like upper floors gave way as a whole and sent a mass of crumbling concrete and murky water plummeting. The material flattened the venue's ground floor, and a plume of sparks and embers went flying. The glowing specks and black smoke whipped around in the downdraft of several news helicopters, each with their spotlights and cameras trained on the collapse. As the fiery debris settled, the rest of the building's lights flickered out. Only the stair towers remained, though two of them had buckled and tilted inward.
"I'm going for a closer look!" Betty excitedly announced and wove her way through the crowd.
Ned elbowed Danny, but the raven-haired teen remained suspiciously shell-shocked with his arms hugged tightly to his torso. Ned sighed and said, "Well, I'll go make sure she stays safe."
Peter then found himself alone with his increasingly stricken friend. "You okay, Danny?"
"It's my fault," he practically whispered. "If I'd just used…my stupid powers, everything would have been fine. A small kitchen fire, like, what is that? Who wouldn't put that out if they could? Why was I so selfish?"
Peter's heart broke at the familiar pain. Throwing an arm around Danny's shoulders, he encouraged, "Hey, you saved everybody's lives, though? That's pretty awesome."
"Yeah."
"Hey." Peter gently jostled Danny. "You came through in the end. Lesson learned, am I right? Superheroes are superheroes because they can and should, not necessarily because they want."
The boy's words struck Danny at his core. Whether he liked it or not, even when he tried to hide a part of himself, he had grown certain unshakable beliefs during his time as Danny Phantom. He would have to accept that the universe had ordained him with even more power, and even more responsibility, regardless of the current color of his hair and eyes.
"Maybe you're right, Jiminy," Danny finally admitted. "I guess I should reconsider this whole…hero thing."
Peter perked up, hopped slightly, and swung his free arm around. "Attaboy, Pinoke!" he squeaked. "And I'm gonna help ya!"
Danny snorted. "Get off," he groaned with a half-smile, and a snickering Peter released his grip. "Since when do you know so much about superhero morality? Was there some freshman year elective I missed at Midtown?"
Peter nervously shrugged. "I dunno. It's just basic logic."
Betty and Ned returned a few minutes later. The blonde held out a bright yellow zip-up sweater with the school logo on it. "Here you go," she said. "I got it from my car."
Danny gratefully accepted it and covered his exposed torso. "I thought the girl was supposed to steal the guy's sweater," he joked.
"Well, where do you think I originally got it from?" she teased in reply.
The two shared an awkwardly long, sweet, and joyful look.
"So," Ned interjected, "how about that Cryo Teen?"
"No," Danny immediately groaned.
"I think we're calling him Artiko," Betty said.
"Oh, sorta like the Tagalog word for arctic?" Ned asked. "Why?"
"I don't know. Someone heard Lola say that when he saved us, so we thought it sounded like a name."
Ned sighed. "She was saying it felt arctic in there because the ice guy accidentally froze us a little."
"Well it's better than freakin' *Cryo Teen,*" Danny drawled.
"Hey, I thought it sounded cool!" Betty protested.
As the quartet descended into bickering over hero names, they remained ignorant of Lola smiling fondly at her grandson's newest friend.
K stood motionless as his coworkers loaded their vans with equipment and fallen drones. Agent O and their superior asserted their way through the chaos until they came to stand adjacent to the man.
"Agent K," Alpha intoned pensively, "I've been hearing some surprising reports from your teammates that you appeared to…empathize with the target. Explain."
"He—the target saved my life, sir," K replied. "...Twice."
"He 'saved your life.' " His boss's tone turned from mocking to venomous. "That means you were fully able to carry out your direct orders."
"Agent Alpha, I—"
"There is no room for error for us. Any threat to the legitimacy of this agency must be capitalized or eliminated. Which will you be, Agent K?"
K remained stoic. O did his best to hide a smirk.
After a tense moment, Alpha spun on his heel. "Dismissed," he grunted and walked away.
This chapter's Easter eggs and references:
- Jiminy Cricket and the related campy dialogue: Disney's Pinocchio, the 1940 version
- Titans Tower: a nod to the lengthy DP x Teen Titans crossover fic I largely wrote but never published
- the 1964 Stark Expo: a stand-in for the real-world World Expo for which Terrace on the Park was actually built
- the beauty pageant discussion: referencing the events of "Beauty Marked" (season 2 episode 14), as well as the events of "Parental Bonding" (season 1 episode 2) during which the amulet was introduced. Danny told this story in the limo on the way to the Homecoming dance back in chapter 8.
It's such a relief to finally get an update out. A huge shoutout to my fandom friends and beta readers who contributed editorially or morally to the development of this chapter (and providing general support and encouragement while I dealt with real-life strife)! Aghostiemouse (tumblr), summersixecho (tumblr/AO3), Weshney (tumblr/AO3), the-outcast-ed (tumblr, LetTheChaosEnsue on FFn & AO3), and Tytach (tumblr/AO3) especially.
What did you guys think? I look forward to reading your comments/reviews should you feel so inclined! :)
(Again, side note: If any Filipino readers happen to notice an error in any of the translated dialogue, please let me know! I had a couple of volunteers lined up over a year ago, and they also gave me some wonderful insight into Filipino culture and cuisine, but I've lost touch with them since then. Thanks!)
Until next time,
hiimian