*Barges through the door with notes on every single frame in Across the Spiderverse* IM HERE.

Summary: danny finally has to confront his shortcomings (he gets the first fuck word in the fanfic)

tears of the kingdom last month...Spooderverse this last friday... mindcravft update today...Barbie soon...Mutant Mayhem later... this summer is trying it's best to keep me from writing, but here I am still chugging.

Anyways.

Despondent was not a word that Danny would use to describe the dragon riders. Crazy? Probably. Brash? Sure. Fierce? Definitely.

They were exiting the Infinite Realms with as many people they'd entered, too. That was typically something to celebrate!

That is, if you were expecting to.

Perhaps 'blind-sided' may be the better term to describe them. In more than one way.

The dragon riders were supposed to be back home. Danny, Sam, Jazz, and Tuck should have had to drop by Dora's kingdom to drop off the amulets, and Skulker…

Since he seemed to be running through the dictionary already, 'lazy' was not a word that Danny would use to describe Skulker.

He enjoyed the hunt. He lived for it – or, well, you know. It was his obsession. Danny felt that he knew that better than most people.

The ghost hunter did not take cheap shots. Challenges were taken with glee and his losses did not remain as such for very long. Tucker reminisced him the 'Terminator' for a reason.

Letting someone else tire out his prey was not something Skulker considered honorable. That's not to say he didn't utilize strategies – sneak attacks were, after all, integral to the hunt.

But if Skulker were lazy, Danny would have been dead long ago. Even if the ghost hunter didn't know where he lived, Danny would need more than two hands to count the amount of times that he'd passed out after a battle with a different foe.

He wouldn't have been much easier to pick off if he'd been tied and gagged with blood blossoms.

Skulker was a horrible ghost. He was cunning, smart, arrogant, and dangerous. But he was not lazy. Never lazy. He never charged into a battle the way he had today.

So Danny was blind-sided. Shocked. Flabbergasted, even.

There were a lot of words that he could use to describe how he felt about today.

But guilt, guilt was the one that trumped the others.

Even if Skulker had never attacked like that before, Danny should have known that something was up. And at the very least, he should have prepared for some other territorial ghost to try and take its piece of cake.

How could he have been so tunnel-visioned to bypass that?

How could he have been so desperate to allow himself to use –

Danny sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head rapidly as his gaze fell from the sky.

He hated that power. He hated it. It was everything he wasn't. It was the Ghost King's. It was the voice of a tyrant. It was Pariah Dark's.

"And Danny Phantom is not the ghost king." He hissed to himself, forcing back the bile in his throat as he scowled.

In an attempt to push the subject out of his mind, he began pacing in the air restlessly.

"C'mon…" He growled, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of purple and blue, well…anywhere, "c'mon."

Nothing above Manson Manor shifted.

"Clockwork!" He called out in desperation, choosing one direction and glaring directly at it, "I know you're watching!"

He paused again. It turned out just as fruitless.

"I know you're watching!" He repeated with a bit more venom, trying desperately not to sound like a child, "I need your help. Please."

How entitled was he to be asking for a second favor from the ghost in charge of the space-time continuum? He'd barely even gotten the first…

He had no idea what he was going to do now. He'd made a promise.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" Danny cracked to the air, "I just –"

The Boo-merang had not gone off since Skulker and the Thief had vanished through the portal. Danny had a feeling that it'd never go off again, now that he'd completely blown their chances of surprise, but discarding it felt like accepting defeat.

It felt like breaking his promise.

Again, he was given no answer. The wind whisked around him like a knowing nudge. He could almost hear Clockwork's emotionless tone in it, and Danny's face pulled back into a snarl.

"I know you can hear me!" He yelled at the sky, "How am I supposed to do this on my own?!"

"Careful," The voice nearly made him jump out of his skin, "you may get struck down."

Danny whipped around to find Hiccup clambering from the fire escape. His arms were crossed stiffly over his chest as he squinted at the stars. There was a glimmer of a joke in his eyes, but his jaw was set and his brow was furrowed.

Feeling a blush rush to his face, Danny averted his gaze.

"Unless that's how your gods prefer to be prayed to?" Hiccup stuttered with a shrug.

A hum was the only thing Danny could muster as Hiccup wandered over to him. There was a silence that draped over them for a few seconds.

"I didn't know you were religious." Hiccup commented as he sat, and that drew a snort out of the ghost boy.

"I'm not." he switched to Norse, eyes firmly plastered in the opposite direction.

It was Hiccup's turn to hum, and Danny could feel his gaze on him. He hated it.

"Most people don't usually yell at nothing." He commented.

"I'm not most people."

Hiccup did not respond to that. Silence lapsed, and Danny let himself fall next to him on the roof, bringing his knees up to his chest.

"How's Astrid?" the ghost boy asked.

A weary sigh left Hiccup. "Resting." his voice had a thin coating of worry, "Not sure if it's a concussion, but we're gonna treat it like one."

Nodding silently, Danny tried to force the tightness in his chest to loosen.

"And everyone else?" he asked, hunching his shoulders.

Another equally weary sigh left Hiccup as he leaned forwards. "Disappointed. Tired."

That seemed like the understatement of the millenia. Despair was falling off Hiccup in waves. Danny's core was practically choking on it.

"I'm sorry." the ghost boy muttered before he even realized he wanted to say anything.

Hiccup instantly shook his head. "It's not your fault." he said, but his response was delayed and his voice had a lilt to it that Danny did not recognize.

Finding that he really didn't want to bask in that, the ghost boy laid back, splaying his arms out on either side of his head. "Somehow, I doubt that." Danny muttered, not that he was much of a lie detector, apparently. His eyes flittered around the sky until it found a constellation. Canis Major.

Sirius was oddly bright that night, and Danny heard a bitter laugh leave him at the sight. "Of course..."

"What?" Hiccup inquired, laying himself next to the ghost slowly. It was only after he was settled that he turned his gaze to the sky. He had to squint. The only reason Danny didn't was because of his powers.

"Sirius is mocking me." Danny sighed. He lifted a nimble finger and pointed to the star in question.

He felt Hiccup stall as he found the twinkling light. "How so?"

Despite, well, everything, Danny felt a rueful smile twinge at his lips. "You know the story of Achilles? I'm pretty sure that was before your time…"

"The Greek story?" Hiccup raised an eyebrow, "I've heard of it."

Humming, Danny's head lofted to the side. "Well that star's called Achilles, sometimes. He's bright tonight."

For some reason, a huff of laughter left Hiccup, and Danny turned to find him shaking his head. "What?"

"It's nothing," Hiccup shrugged, clasping his hands together on his chest, "It's just…we call that star Loki's Torch. So I guess two people are laughing at us."

Probably three, Danny wanted to say, but he kind of doubted that Clockwork had the ability to laugh.

A contemplative almost-silence fell over them. The sound of a police siren in the distance rang in his ears.

"So what is it?"

Danny turned to Hiccup in confusion. "What's what?"

With a slow blink, Hiccup carefully rested his head on his forearm, "What's your Achilles heel?"

Averting his gaze rapidly, Danny bit his tongue. He could feel his cheeks flush when an immediate answer popped into his head. It sounded like Sam's voice.

More silence lapsed. It was a bit more tense than last time.

There was a rustling of clothes as Hiccup's head tilted back to the sky.

"I'm a pacifist." He stated out of the blue.

That brought a surprised laugh out of Danny. "What?"

A huff of his own laughter left Hiccup, but his eyes didn't leave the sky. He seemed to be remembering something.

"That's my Achilles Heel." He elaborated.

Danny felt his eyes narrow incredulously as he watched Hiccup. "But you're –"

"A viking?" Hiccup chuckled, "I know." He paused. "I wasn't allowed to forget that…"

"What does that mean?" Danny asked. A strange wave of resentment was filling the air.

Hiccup didn't answer right away. It took a while for his attention to fall from the stars, and in the eye contact they held Danny saw a lot of emotions there.

"It's how my mother was killed."

Suddenly feeling like he was frozen in place, Danny couldn't even blink. He almost couldn't even speak.

"I'm sorry." He managed.

Hiccup instantly shook his head. "I was a baby." He shrugged it off, "she was killed because she wouldn't."

His fingers came up to brush his chin thoughtfully. "My dad says I take after her."

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing." Danny said.

Hiccup's eyebrows twinged humorously, and he sat up on his elbows after a moment, facing him. "Do you know what the name 'Hiccup' means?" He asked.

"A…lung spasm…?" Danny tried to lighten the mood. The smile he made felt more like a grimace, but it drew a chuckle out of Hiccup anyways.

"It means 'runt'." He stated rather bluntly, and Danny felt the lightheartedness in his chest drop with a thud. "I mean," Hiccup flexed his free arm with a bit of a chuckle, "not that they were wrong."

Danny hummed. "I know how you feel." He lifted his own, admittedly stick-ish, arm in a similar solidarious flex. Though, it probably didn't help much coming from someone with superstrength.

Hiccup's hum seemed to confirm that thought, "well, regardless. Being a pacifist shows mental weakness. Being a runt shows physical. Being both while being the only heir?" he scoffed theatrically, shaking his head. "...Let's just say, people didn't have the most faith in me."

"But you're…the 'Dragon Whisperer', aren't you?" Danny asked.

"I was the Traitor before I was the Dragon Whisperer." Hiccup muttered. "Was disowned and everything."

"Another thing I know a thing or two about." Danny admitted with a sigh, tracing the concrete below them. His teeth ground together for a moment.

Hiccup looked rather concerned at that. Questions were in his eyes and he stalled only briefly. "...Do you?

Danny averted his gaze again. "...in a way."

Hiccup had shifted in the seconds Danny had looked away from him. Again the ghost boy felt strapped to a lab table under his gaze: he was used to that look of concern from Jazz, but for some reason it made his breath hitch unknowingly.

Slowly, Hiccup laid back down, turning back to the stars. "I'm sorry you have to know what that feels like."

Danny let out his breath.

He looked back at the twinkling Sirius.

And then, after chewing his lip practically raw, he spoke. "I'm in over my head."

It took a while for Hiccup to answer. In those seconds, accusations swirled in Danny's head. "Is that so?"

The ghost boy nodded slowly, rolling back around. He traced the bumps of the roof. "It's what everyone says." He grumbled.

There was a rustling of clothing as Hiccup shifted. "Who's 'everyone'?" his voice was a lot less flat.

A chuckle that sounded a lot sadder than Danny meant it to be left him. He swallowed. "The people that matter."

An accident? You didn't let us get a single hit in!

Why are you doing this? You never used to!

How can this possibly make you the hero you claim to be?

"I'm…sure that's not true." Hiccup muttered. "You seem like you know what you're doing."

"Yeah, well, I don't really have a choice." Danny didn't mean to say that out loud.

But it felt good to. Sam called it Bleeding Heart Syndrome, but let's call a spade a spade. Danny knew what she meant.

A puzzled silence blanketed them, and it took a moment for the ghost boy to realize that frost had begun to creep over the roof. He closed his eyes and reined his core back in.

"I'm not sure I understand." Hiccup eventually said.

Danny sucked in a sharp breath and suddenly turned to face Hiccup, a desperation that he hadn't even know existed suddenly boiling in his gut. "Do you know what makes a ghost?"

There was a long pause as they stared at each other.

Hiccup shook his head very lightly. "No."

Danny broke their eye contact. "Obsession." He whispered. "Obsession is what makes a ghost."

He felt his fingertips ice over, and he lifted them morosely, giving up on holding the frost back. A small crystal formed in his hand, floating just above his palm. He spun it in the air.

"Mine's Protection." He explained, the words tasted like acid in his mouth.

The crystal gave off a slight blue glow, twinkling in the low street lighting.

"...I can't imagine that's very easy." Hiccup said that like he was walking on very thin ice.

Danny refused to agree with that. He refused to rub the bags under his eyes.

"...can I ask?" Hiccup said, and the ghost boy finally tore his attention away from the ice crystal.

Hiccup laid on his side. He tucked an elbow under his head, eyes firmly plastered anywhere but Danny's own. "How you, um…"

He trailed off, eyes flitting to the crystal skittishly.

Danny almost laughed.

Almost.

His hand snatched the ice crystal out of the air with a small, deadly clink, and he saw Hiccup tense in his peripheral as he sat upright.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –" Hiccup scrambled upright as well, but it was quickly turning to static in his ears. Or was it the crackling of electricity?

Danny set the crystal between them like it was made of already-fractured glass.

His hand clutched the palm of his left hand.

And then it pulled off the glove.

Danny stared at his deathmark. It wasn't the scar his human half had. It was a burnt, electric green that crackled with a pulsing white, like a torrentful river flowing to his core.

Sam had called it hauntingly beautiful, all things considering. Tucker called it badass. He hadn't mustered up the courage to show Jazz yet.

So why did he want to show Hiccup?

Maybe it was the fact that he'd asked. No one in Amity had dared to, and everyone that mattered already knew about his accident.

He could feel Hiccup's eyes as he stared at the mark.

Danny presented it wistfully.

"Electrocution." He whispered. It was surprisingly easy to say, and he found himself averting his gaze from Hiccup as he processed what that meant.

"Oh." Was all he said.

The glove was quickly pulled back on.

"...how long?" Hiccup asked timidly.

Rubbing at his palm, Danny answered almost robotically. "Two years."

His gaze drifted back to the stars, and he forcefully shoved down the wave of grief he felt. Melancholy was quick to latch on, but he couldn't shake that one away quite as easily.

He laughed ruefully at the sky. "You know, I wanted to be an astronaut."

"Astronaut?" Hiccup asked.

Right. Danny nodded to the sky. "Star explorer." He elaborated.

"That's a thing?" The awe in Hiccup's voice was tainted with caution.

Nodding silently, Danny tilted his head to the side. "Well, we haven't gotten past the moon yet." He admitted with a small laugh, nodding his head towards the crescent that was visible that night.

Hiccup's eyes widened with wonder as he took in the sight of the moon, and for just a brief moment, jealousy radiated from Danny's core. He found that he couldn't place the last time he'd felt unadulterated awe like that.

"We're talking about the same moon, right?" Hiccup almost-laughed, like he didn't quite believe what Danny was telling him.

Danny nodded faintly, feeling that brief moment of excitement drop.

"I wanted to be the first person on Mars." He choked, and then cleared his throat forcefully. He saw Hiccup look at him out of the corner of his eye.

Tilting his head to the side, Danny continued, "kept my grades up religiously. My parents sent me to space camp every summer, dressed up like an astronaut for Halloween every year. I even built my first model spaceship when I was six. I wasn't like every other kid. I was determined. My parents poured their studies into an unknown world, I wanted to be just like them."

He huffed morosely,"but then, y'know…" He raised his palm in a shrug as if to remind Hiccup of the deathmark that rested there, like he wasn't a glowing reminder of that already.

He couldn't tell if Hiccup was breathing or not. Danny only realized his ears had dropped when he swiveled them to make sure that he was.

Hiccup sucked in a breath as a preamble to his next question, "so why don't you, now?"

"What?" Danny snapped his head to Hiccup defensively to find that he was tracing a crack in the roof with a finger.

Shrugging bashfully, Hiccup elaborated. "You don't have to follow living laws now, right? Why not just go?"

Danny turned away from him again, feeling his heart skip a beat. "I can't be where I'm needed and where I want to be at the same time." was all he muttered.

Hiccup hummed. It was deep and not-all-there. "Where you're needed?"

The ghost boy's neck muscles tensed, as though they didn't want him to nod, but Danny refused them that right. This isn't his job, his core reminded him.

Danny chewed at his lip, pushing that down. "Can I ask you something?"

He lifted his gaze to see Hiccup staring at him again, and he stopped himself from looking away.

Hiccup nodded earnestly.

"How do you stand it?" He paused only briefly, not knowing exactly what words to use, "Being the leader – knowing that people count on you – that you'll be responsible for an entire country one day? How do you not just…run away?"

That question must have been as loaded as it felt on his tongue. If he was honest with himself, Danny didn't even know why he asked it – it didn't apply to him. Or, it shouldn't have to apply to him…but it seemed that his own core was beginning to think otherwise.

Hiccup was silent for a long while, swallowing and turning back to whatever was in front of him.

"I tried to," He said eventually.

Danny didn't know what to say to that. Hiccup took his silence as an invitation to continue, though he didn't seem all that excited about what he said.

"A year or so ago, a man we call Trader Johann washed up on our shore," He continued again, "He'd been – well, he told us he'd been attacked, thrown off his own ship. He asked for our help. I accepted it…" Hiccup trailed off briefly, "But I didn't help him because I wanted to. I helped him because it was an excuse to leave."

Hiccup picked up the discarded ice crystal restlessly, turning it between nimble fingers. He froze briefly, staring at the reflection it cast.

Hiccup gripped his shoulders nervously. "And I know it's selfish, but when your entire life is lived with everyone looking down on you, having it suddenly shift to be the other way around is…"

"Terrifying?" Danny supplied.

"Among other things." Hiccup agreed. "My dad's leaving huge shoes to fill and, well…" He shook his left leg nimbly.

Despite this, Hiccup laughed. "You know, I didn't even notice when it stopped being so scary to me. I just woke up one day with the realization that I didn't have to give up being myself to be a leader."

Danny's heart sank. He didn't know why, he should have been expecting that. Hiccup would never understand what it was like.

"Not everyone has what it takes to be one, though." Danny grumbled, turning away.

Hiccup shook his head. "Now you sound like me."

No, I don't. Danny's mind wanted to bite back, but instead he said, "It's true, though."

A scowl pulled at his lips, "incompetence doesn't stop everyone. You see people try and fail all the time, but some of them will still get back up. People can be stubborn, and dark. And people don't have to be human. And if they're all that and power hungry, they don't have to be natural-born leaders to make others do their bidding. You can preach the whole 'slave-king' narrative all you want, but the truth is, fear works just as well."

"Is that what you're scared of?" Hiccup asked, eyes darting up and down Danny's body with concern.

A rush of shame colored Danny's cheeks, and he suddenly realized his eyes were blazing. He closed them momentarily.

Scared? He wasn't scared, he was tired. He had to figure out this ghost thing on his own, no thanks to his supposed subjects. Why did it take shoving Pariah's ass back into that sarcophagus for them to suddenly decide to respect him? Hell, some of them still didn't.

And even if they all did end up on the right foot, why would they want a half breed that couldn't even take care of his own haunt to look after the Infinite Realms?

They didn't, that's what The Command is for.

Danny buried his face in his arms so that Hiccup didn't see the fear on his face. Though he supposed that was alarming in its own way.

"Phantom?" He just barely heard Hiccup over the ringing in his ears, and the hairs on Danny's neck stood at the warmth of a hand hovering over his back.

He shied away from the touch before it could fall, turning so that his back was facing away from Hiccup suddenly.

Hiccup was speaking again, sounding much more concerned, "Listen, I don't know why you're asking me about this…leader stuff, if it has to do with what happened earlier today, or if –"

Danny could feel it again. The word vomit. The words in his head. Except this time, they weren't staying. They were crawling up his throat. They were digging their nails into his tongue. His core was buzzing, he grit his teeth so hard he felt his jaw pop.

"I'm the ghost king." He blurted.

Hiccup stopped whatever he'd been saying. "...What?"

Danny felt frozen. The buzzing in his core had ended with a ceremonious popping sensation when the words left his mouth. Now the rattling in his chest was gone, leaving only a quietness that felt like winter. His ear tips felt numb, like they didn't quite hear the words that left his own damn mouth. His brain didn't want to hear those words.

But the next string of words followed with a horrendous crack of Danny's voice. It was muffled by his arms. "I don't want to be the ghost king."

There was a burst of surprise from Hiccup that made Danny's core jump, and he hoped that he didn't mimic that physically.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this," He admitted with a pitiful laugh. He sniffled immediately afterwards, repositioning the grip on his arm, "you're not even supposed to be here."

There was a silence that was surprisingly thick, and eventually Danny lifted his head to see a few snowflakes drifting down between them, melting as soon as they hit the roof and leaving unceremonious puddles in their wake.

"...sorry." Danny grumbled, but didn't bother to try and make it go away.

Hiccup shrugged, though it wasn't as unphased as he tried to make it look. "Well. It's true." He cracked a small smile.

Danny looked away sorrowfully.

Shifting awkwardly, Hiccup spoke again, "Why don't you want to be the… ghost-king?"

Scoffing bitterly at the way he'd said it, Danny shook his head. "Probably for the same reason that they had to seal the last one away."

"...Pariah Dark?" Hiccup asked, and there must have been surprise on Danny's face, because he shrugged.

"Frostbite…mentioned him."

Danny looked away, setting his jaw. "Yeah." he confirmed. "Pariah Dark."

He felt his chest heave with a morose laugh, and he ran his tongue along the outside of his teeth as words festered in his mind. "They didn't even bother telling me what I was getting into when I locked him away, you know? They just let me do it. And now I don't know what's worse: whether they expected me to die a second time trying, or expected me to be better than him when I can't even –" He stopped himself, wanting to keep talking and not wanting to keep talking at the same time in some strange, stupid, childish juxtaposition that made his head spin.

He looked back at the roof below them. The wind blew by gently, but it felt like a twister to him.

"I'm in over my head," Danny repeated, refusing to look up in case Sirius was twinkling, "and you can't be in over your head when you're running an entire realm. That's what makes tyrants like Pariah Dark."

"I don't think you'll ever be like Pariah." Hiccup countered too quickly, shaking his head. He shifted a bit closer to Danny, resting his elbows on his knees.

Danny knew that Hiccup didn't mean to lie. He knew nothing of Dan Phantom, of Clockwork, of the original Boo-merang. Still, anger sparked in his chest at the statement.

You know nothing, he wanted to hiss, but that would make him a hypocrite, so he bit his tongue.

"And why do you think that?" He risked asking.

Hiccup hummed thoughtfully. "Because you aren't wearing the crown now."

Danny stared at him in confusion, causing Hiccup to shrug bashfully.

"Those who are dubbed cowards are the only ones brave enough to acknowledge their own limitations."

Snorting perhaps a bit too incredulously, Danny rolled his eyes. "Okay, Aristotle." He dismissed.

A faint chuckle left Hiccup. "I'm serious." He said, "you keep saying you're in over your head, but the fact that you can even say that…" He paused, brow furrowing, and then opened his mouth after another second, "...I couldn't even admit that to myself at sixteen."

The seam on his glove was suddenly very interesting. "If this is your idea of a compliment, I don't think it's working."

"It's not so much a compliment as it is…life advice." Hiccup acknowledged, "though, you know, I'm not sure how valuable life advice is to someone that's dead."

Despite himself, that drew a chuckle out of Danny, and he heard Hiccup sigh in relief.

Danny's smile dropped almost as soon as it appeared. "So how did you do it?"

Hiccup hummed a question, and the ghost boy rubbed his thumb against his upper arm.

"How did you…get out of your head?"

Not that he thought his problems were as simple as that. After all, he definitely had reasons to realize that he was in over his head – he was talking to one of them right now.

"I didn't do it on my own," Hiccup shrugged, nodding with his head back towards the fire escape he'd appeared from. "Things like this aren't supposed to be done alone."

Pausing his fidgeting, his breathing, Danny waited for more, but nothing came.

It couldn't be as simple as that. It couldn't be. Danny had to do this job alone, because if he didn't, Sam and Tuck and anyone else he'd let in would get hurt, or worse, and…he already knew what would happen if it did.

His face screwed up in disdain. "Then I guess I'm not…" cut out for it. Just say it. You aren't cut out for it, why is that so hard to say?

Danny felt his face screw up in frustration. He couldn't just talk to Sam and Tucker about this, either. He hated having to try to explain himself. They tried, they did, but they'd never understand. Not really.

And was that entirely their fault?

After all, he was still going around playing the part of the Fenton son – albeit with a lot more 'delinquency' and a lot less of the 'promising future' that his teachers once saw in him. He was still looking for colleges, even if with every passing day that idea was becoming more and more harrowing than he cared to admit. He kept checking the NASA websites for their astronaut recruitments, knowing full well that he wouldn't even make it past the physical exam without being dragged to the GiW headquarters.

He hadn't admitted to Sam and Tuck that the start of their work as Team Phantom hadn't been a 'who else can do it' thing. It was a 'no one else is allowed to do it' thing: one that Danny felt creeping in his very chest any time he saw his parents or other wannabe 'ghost hunters' arrive in their ridiculous vans that had more camera equipment than ghost hunting gear.

He hadn't admitted to them that this hero thing was driven completely on his own desires.

That he'd spent those first few months after his accident frantically searching for something he couldn't quite place, feeling this terrifying, other thing in his chest begging for something he didn't know what to give.

And then the Lunch Lady showed up, and it clicked into place, and for the first time since his accident, Danny felt like he could breathe.

So he chased that, hoping that just one more fight, one more argument settled, he'd satiate it, and he could rest.

And it did, sometimes. After a particularly large battle, where the amount of lives saved outweighed the property damage he'd caused. He'd reach a brief moment of peace that let him breathe.

The peace after Pariah Dark's defeat lasted the longest.

And then it lasted too long.

Sam and Tucker had rejoiced. Danny had gotten more sleep that following month than he had since his accident.

He'd shown those ghosts what he was made of, they knew better than to test him again. He didn't have to pull all-nighters chasing down the villain of the week.

That's what they'd said.

And instead of joining them in their celebration, panic set in.

And that terrified him.

Danny was angry at that little thing in his chest. Because it wasn't just his, it was him. The bags under his eyes were gone, people were starting to walk the streets at night again, and his core was panicking because of it? What was he, some kind of drug addict?

Maybe he was, because when benign ghosts began fleeing for sanctuary in his haunt, asking for help, or the particularly cocky ghosts that weren't phased by his accomplishment showed back up to challenge him, Danny had rejoiced in the cover of darkness. His core both hated the fear that permeated the air and craved that which caused it.

How could any just king possibly excuse that?

How could anyone excuse that?

So Danny ignored the way he'd been burning the candle from both ends. At least, at first he did. It started out great. His obsession had become much more stable when the help was being asked for from both sides of the portal, and that had been more than he'd asked for. He wasn't going to ask questions on why ghosts were seeking his help – you know what they say about kicking a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, it didn't matter. If he was helping people, it was proof that he wasn't becoming the thing trapped in a beat up thermos somewhere in Clockwork's domain.

And then Frostbite let the news slip.

More asked him, really. When he'd claim the king's domain. When his coronation would be.

He'd meant nothing by it, really. In fact, the question was supposed to be part of the celebration process he'd had planned.

But Danny had not stuck around to hear any more.

So, no. Danny was absolutely not cut out for ghost king. Not because he couldn't do it, but because he was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

His obsession was protection, and since he had to seek out danger to satiate it, then he had to protect everyone he knew from himself.

That included the Infinite Realm's throne.

"...Phantom?"

Danny blinked rapidly as the wind sent a chill up his spine. He snapped his head over to Hiccup.

Hiccup's eyes darted up and down, looking for something. "You kinda…trailed off there."

Right.

Danny swallowed.

He sucked in a breath.

He needed to stop lying to himself.

"I'm not cut out for ghost king," he resolved, breathing in until the aching in his lungs prevented him from doing it any more, "because I can't protect someone that doesn't need protecting."

Hiccup hummed: a nail in his coffin.

"So then why do you still try to do it?"

The question caught Danny so off guard, he completely forgot what he wanted to say next. Something that resembled a 'what?' squeaked out of him.

Hiccup still remained with an earnest-yet-disgustingly-patient face. "Phantom." He deadpanned. "You really don't think they've noticed how you're pushing them away? How you're so insistent on doing everything yourself?"

Danny felt his cheeks flush in anger. "Oh, what, and you have?" He bit back, "You don't know me."

"Maybe not," Hiccup didn't seem very upset by his words, and Danny almost hated that, "But it's not like you've been subtle about it."

The ghost boy locked his jaw and swallowed forcefully. "I haven't been pushing them away." He retorted, resisting the urge to bare his teeth.

Hiccup's eyelids lowered. "...Phantom – Danny. You wouldn't let us do a single thing today. Don't you think that's…" He trailed off, like he didn't quite know how to say what he wanted to.

Not wanting to give him that chance, Danny threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, fine, so what if I'm pushing them away? Maybe they're better off without me!"

"You can't possibly believe that?" Hiccup sounded very concerned all of a sudden, and Danny did hate it that time. He crossed his arms self-consciously over his chest.

"I…I don't know." The ghost boy's anger deflated almost as soon as it had started and instead was replaced with a wave of guilt. "I mean…"

His nose wrinkled as he tried to blink back the burst of tears that manifested. Stop lying to yourself. "I mean, you're right! I fucked up, I-I –"

He grit his teeth, hands flying to his hair in shame, tugging at the wispy strands. Frustration pulled at his chest when no more words would form, and he growled. "I fucked up…" He repeated, not knowing what else to say.

How is it that he's too dangerous to be part of a team, but useless as a solo act?

How many impossible tight ropes can he possibly balance on?

He sucked in air, and his chest shuddered as he did so. His mouth opened long before any words left it. They were cracking and slurred as his lips twisted against his will, "What do I do?"

Why was he asking? Why was he treating Hiccup like some sort of therapist? Hell, even if he was a therapist, Danny had made it very hard to get to know him.

There was a chill up his spine as something hovered near his back, and the ghost boy's head tilted just slightly as he braced himself.

A warmth – a hand – settled on his shoulder. Lightly, at first, nearly a feather's touch, and then after some hesitation it grew firmer with a squeeze. "You need to trust Sam and Tucker."

"And that's supposed to get you the Infimap how, exactly?" Danny tried to snap, but it came out in a monotone instead. His shoulders had slumped as he twisted to look at Hiccup.

"Don't think about that right now." Hiccup shook his head.

Despite what Hiccup said was obviously supposed to be a grounding statement, Danny's hand flew to his chest as his core pulsed angrily. "I can't." He hissed.

Hiccup swallowed visibly. "...yeah, you're right. I can't, either." He ceded, nodding to himself as he broke eye contact.

Danny remained quiet for a while, out of fear that he'd say something that couldn't be taken back.

He was overtly aware of the hand that was still on his shoulder, the way that it wasn't shaking, the way that its grip had not loosened. Why hadn't he shied away yet?

A shiver of dread made Danny whirl back towards Hiccup, knocking his hand off his shoulder.

Alarm was evident on Hiccup's face, but he blinked it away rather quickly, falling back onto his haunches carefully. "You're still in your head." He observed with a ghost of a smile.

"Stop." Danny croaked, burying the lower half of his face in his arms again. He began debating whether or not he should just vanish and jet. At least the stars didn't talk back to him.

The smile dropped. Hiccup sighed. He glanced somewhere behind Danny as the ghost boy tried to muster the urge to move any part of his body.

"Okay. You fucked up." Hiccup resolved, sounding not in the least bit sympathetic. But maybe Danny hadn't been listening all that well, either, because for the life of him he couldn't hear any anger in his tone.

Hiccup leaned forward. Danny looked up out of instinct as he inclined his head slightly to the side. The green in his eyes popped against the starlight.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

…what was he going to do about it?

It was like some barrier had locked Danny's gaze to Hiccup's as the words lingered in the air. They caressed his ears and swirled in his brain like a siren's song. His core throbbed a reminder, and the ghost boy deflated.

What could Danny do about it? His first instinct was that he was doing the right thing already. He attracted danger, so the best way to keep people safe was to push them away.

But that's what screwed the mission over. It's what screwed multiple missions over. He should have known that Sam and Tuck especially would be too stubborn to let him do anything on his own, yet alone the literal dragon riding vikings, but he couldn't just–

Danny's core pulsed so erratically that it hurt, completely derailing his train of thought, and he let out a surprised gasp. He lurched forward, hand flying to his chest as he tried to suck in a breath. There was a twinge somewhere against his left lung as he inhaled, and he swallowed thickly as the ache pulsed, but barely diminished.

"Danny?" Hiccup asked, but Danny didn't answer beyond a careful exhale. The back of his throat grew chilled as he did so, and he forced gravity off him, standing upright.

"I've got to go." He whispered, hand still twisting his hazmat suit, and almost in a daze, he continued. "Thanks, Hiccup."

If Hiccup said anything back, the wind did not bring it to Danny's ears.

He needed to clear his head.

He needed answers.

He needed to get to the Infinite Realms.

Aaand that's a wrap on Act I! That's...wow, strange to say. I have about 20k words of Act II done, but this fic is gonna go on hiatus until I get at least halfway through. This fic is...way bigger than I originally thought it was going to be, and that's entirely my own fault lol. But! At least I have a finalized plot now! Seriously, you guys would not believe the amount of backtracing and rewriting goes on behind the scenes of this fic. Only the best for my readers, you know!

Yeah I got home from watching Across the Spiderverse sunday and just. Stared at my ceiling for a good hour. I am absolutely going to die waiting until next March. My tickets were $22 and I'd pay way more than that just to REWATCH it. Literally breathtaking.

"Tiktok is like a commercial break when I'm reading fanfiction. thank you." - user "butrthnu" on tiktok

well, until next time, my lovelies :)

~Local Dragon Haunt