AU — OOC

TW: Strong Language — Emotional Distress — Self-destructive Tendencies

~ Did I Crossed The Line? ~

And I know that you loved me, you don't have to remind me, wanna put it all behind me

I see her in the back of my mind, all the time

Feels like a fever, like I'm burning alive, like a sign

Did I cross the line?

- Billie Eilish

If only he could find someone just as messed up as he was to help him with his needs. Valerie wasn't that person. Of course, she wasn't. What the hell was he even thinking?

Danny soared through the cloudy afternoon sky. It felt like it was going to rain—the air was thick with humidity, clinging to his skin. A warm spring day. But he didn't want the heat wrapping around him like this. He wanted to feel cold. He needed the cold to bite at his bare skin. The sharp sting of metal, maybe. Yes, that's what he wanted. Even as some small, rational part of his mind whispered that this wasn't okay, that this was all so utterly fucked up.

It was his birthday today. An awesome birthday, really. Not.

Where was he even supposed to go now? He didn't have a home anymore. Not after he left it all behind without so much as a second thought—or a single thing packed.

Maddie's words still echoed in his head.

You're a danger.

Sure. He didn't want to admit how much it hurt—emotionally, anyway. His own mother, cold and unfeeling as stone, utterly detached from the son she once had. No, she didn't have a son anymore. All she saw was Phantom—a ghost, a monster, a dangerous entity.

Right now, he needed something tangible, something physical to drown out the emotional storm. The sharp sting of pain, the undeniable proof that he was alive—or at least still existed. He didn't care anymore. He needed to find someone. Someone who could help him feel something. Sooner rather than later, before his personal hell shattered what little control he had left.

He gazed down at the bustling city beneath him—the constant hum of urban life, tiny humans scurrying along the sidewalks, cars weaving endlessly through the streets. It all seemed so typical, so ordinary, yet in this moment, it felt eerily artificial, like he was trapped in some kind of simulation. He didn't feel real. Nothing felt real.

But it was real… wasn't it?

Why didn't he just change back to his human form?

No. He didn't dare. He was terrified that his human side was even more broken, more fractured. Terrified that facing it would only deepen the wound festering inside him. Phantom was stronger. Phantom was safer.

But wasn't that the part of him that was supposed to feel alive? Sure, if you took it literally—but that wasn't what he wanted. He craved the sharpness of pain, the sting of cuts against his skin, the sensation of being restrained. It was like a drug—a sick, desperate longing he couldn't escape.

He shook his head, trying to banish the thought, but it clung to him, stubborn and unrelenting. With a frustrated sigh, he descended, landing softly on the sidewalk. He began to walk, blending in with the flow of humanity as if he were just another ordinary passerby.

Except he wasn't.

Everywhere he looked, eyes followed him, glances lingering too long. Why were they staring? He already knew. Because he wasn't like them. He was a ghost. He was Phantom. To some, a hero. To others, maybe even a villain.

How could he possibly be the villain when all he had ever wanted was to protect this city? Every sleepless night, every bruise and scar—he had borne them willingly, for them. For their safety, their peace. Yet now, as the weight of their hatred bore down on him, he couldn't help but feel like the victim. The unspoken accusations, the fear in their eyes—it cut deeper than any ghostly attack ever could.

When did his sacrifice become their mistrust?

He looked down, shoving his hands deep into the front pockets of his pants, his shoulders slumping forward. But the thought crept back in—the craving for pain, the desperate longing for punishment. Because that was what he deserved. Right?

Danny knew there had to be someone out there, another twisted mind, another broken soul, who could give him what he wanted. If that was his last option, so be it. Or maybe—just maybe—he could go back to the GiW. Beg them to capture him again, to lock him up in that suffocatingly sterile, disturbingly comfortable room.

But then… they wouldn't hurt him. They wouldn't let him feel pain. They had released him because he was partly human. And humans didn't deserve that, right? At least, that's what they told him. That was their justification.

He couldn't go home anymore—not after Maddie cast him out onto the streets. He couldn't ask his parents to torture him again, to dissect him—to vivisect him. They wouldn't do it. Not even Maddie.

Because granting him that would mean giving him exactly what he wanted. And she wouldn't. She couldn't. Not Maddie. She wouldn't be jumping at the chance to satisfy his twisted need.

He couldn't return to the Ghost Zone, either. That was tied to the place that used to be home—the lab, his parents' lab. Sure, he could go invisible and slip past them unnoticed, but he didn't want to face them anymore.

The natural portals, the ones that appeared out of nowhere, could have been an option. If only he knew when or how they'd show up. But the anomalies were unstable and unpredictable.

So, that wasn't an option either.

Danny stopped in his tracks, standing still at the crosswalk. He tilted his head up, glancing at the overcast sky, and let out a weary sigh.

Then, it came—a single drop of rain, cool and soft, landing on his forehead. He blinked, startled by its gentle touch, before another drop followed, landing on his nose. He paused, lifting his face more toward the sky as the drizzle began to build. Closing his eyes, he let the rain trail down his skin. A faint, narrow smile tugged at his lips, bittersweet and fleeting, like the rain itself.

The rain made him happy, its cool touch soothing against his skin. He could feel his core hum softly in response, purring harder with each drop. For a fleeting moment, it was as though the storm outside calmed the dark one within.

But then, he heard it—a voice calling his name.

"Danny!"

His eyes snapped open, and he glanced around, his core purring as he searched for the source. Nothing. No one. Of course not. He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He was losing it, wasn't he? Going crazy, hearing things that weren't there.

"Danny!"

There it was again, sharper this time. His real name. Not Phantom. That could only mean one thing—or maybe two.

He spun around, his chest tightening with hope and disbelief mixed through each other. And then he saw her.

Standing just a few steps away, she was drenched from the rain, her black hair plastered to her face, but her eyes were fixed on him with an intensity that made his breath hitch.

Danny's smile widened, stretching across his face, unbidden and uncontrollable. A positive cold bloomed in his chest, mingling with the strange, almost foreign feeling of relief, something inside him eased everything for a moment.

He didn't say anything, just stood there, staring at her like he couldn't believe she was real. His eyes lingered, tracing every detail—from the rain dripping off her hair to the way her soaked black clothes clung to her, as if his mind was trying to memorize her all over again.

"You know, Danny," she said, her voice soft but laced with teasing, "staring is rude. And, uh, it's kind of making me feel… awkward."

His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed instantly in a soft pink. "Oh! Right. Sorry! I didn't mean to—uh—I wasn't—" He stammered, looking down and scratching the back of his neck, his hand sliding awkwardly through the damp hair sticking to his skin.

She bit her lip, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

"It's okay," she said, tilting her head slightly, her own cheeks pink from probably more than just the cold rain.

Danny finally glanced up at her, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile.

"I'm just… glad to see you," he admitted, his voice quieter now. His hand dropped to his side as he shrugged, his eyes nervously flicking back to hers. "I mean, I wasn't sure if you'd actually—uh—be here. Or, you know… anywhere."

She smiled back at him, her expression softening, her lavender eyes shimmering with a warmth he hadn't seen in so long. It was as though all the unspoken words between them hovered there, fragile and delicate, waiting to be acknowledged. "So, what brings you to town, Danny? Long time, no see."

Danny blinked, caught off guard by the simple question. What had brought him here? He wasn't sure. He'd just followed his gut, letting it pull him along. "That's a good question, Sam," he said, his voice quieter now. "I could ask you the same thing."

The rain continued to fall in soft, rhythmic drops, soaking their clothes even more, but neither of them seemed to notice.

Sam's smile grew as she reached out, her voice brightening. "Oh, and before I forget—happy birthday, Danny!"

Before he could respond, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a warm, firm embrace. Her hands settled above his shoulders, her grip steady and comforting. For a moment, it was overwhelming, the closeness, the touch—but Danny didn't care.

He exhaled sharply, his arms moving without thought to wrap around her, holding on like she was the only thing keeping him together. His eyes shut tightly, as if opening them might break whatever fragile moment this was. The world around him faded—the rain, the cold, the endless noise of the city—all of it dissolved into nothing in the warmth of her embrace.

He hugged her tighter, burying his face into her shoulder, clinging to her as if she might disappear. His breaths came uneven and trembling, each one a quiet testament to the storm that was still raging inside him.

And then he felt it. Her arms tightening around him in return, her hand moving gently along his back, her thumb tracing soothing patterns. It was such a small gesture, but it anchored him, calmed the chaos in his mind.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice muffled against her, thick with emotion. His arms squeezed her just a little tighter, as if trying to convey everything he couldn't say. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes, hot and burning, threatening to shed. If he cried now, it didn't matter—no one would notice in the rain.

Relief washed over him, an unexpected wave of calm. For the very first time in what felt like an ancient time, he felt something. Not just the hollow ache he'd grown used to—but a sense of warmth, of connection, of being loved.

But then, slowly, Sam loosened her grip, her hands moving to gently push him back. His arms fell limply to his sides, numb and uncertain, while her hands rested lightly on his shoulders.

"Missed me?" she said, her tone half-teasing, half-curious, while she raised one eyebrow.

Danny froze. Did he really say that out loud? His eyes darted to hers, wide and uncertain, as if searching for a sign of what she might be thinking. Her lilac-hued gaze bore into his, unreadable.

"Danny…" Sam began, her voice softer now, hesitant. "I just saw you walking, and… well, I remembered it was your birthday today."

She let her hands fall from his shoulders, crossing them over her chest as if to guard herself. The sudden distance between them stung, but Danny didn't know how to close it.

"I didn't mean to…" he stammered, hesitating. "I didn't mean to say that out loud." He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck again, but the laughter didn't reach his eyes. Deep down, his gut churned, sinking like a stone.

"You know I'm with Tuck now, right?" Sam said.

But the words hit him like a blow straight to his chest—spreading like a crack through glass.

Danny's breath caught, his core dropping further than he thought was possible.

So it's true, of course it is.

He'd heard it from Jazz before, but hearing it from Sam herself was a different kind of pain.

Something twisted inside him, something different—a longing and desperation. He stepped carefully closer, his movements were cautious yet trembling as he gently cupped her face between his both hands. His touch was tentative, as if afraid she might pull away, but she didn't.

"I know," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper, almost swallowed by the steady patter of rain. "Jazz told me."

His right thumb moved gently, brushing against her left cheek in a slow, deliberate caress, as if trying to memorize the softness of her skin. The touch lingered, tentative yet filled with unspoken emotion.

Danny felt her hands rise, trembling slightly, her fingers curling lightly around his wrists. Her touch was warm onto his cold skin despite the rain, grounding him in the moment. She didn't pull away. She didn't stop him.

"Danny, I…" Sam trailed off, her eyes searching his, darting left to right as if looking for the right words. But none came.

And then, without a single thought holding him back, his lips meeting hers in a kiss so gentle, so fragile, it felt like the world itself might shatter if it broke too soon. The rain, the hum of the city, the chaos of everything around them—none of it mattered anymore. In that fleeting moment, there was only her. Only them.

Her lips were softer than he imagined, a gentle warmth that defied the cool drizzle cascading around them. The rain traced its path between them, but he hardly noticed, caught in the quiet spark of their connection.

She didn't pull away. For a moment, she stilled, her breath caught like a whisper lost to the storm. Her hands, still resting on his wrists, tightened slightly, grounding him in a way that felt both reassuring and uncertain.

Danny's core thundered in his chest, every purr carrying the weight of a thousand questions.

Had he just crossed the line into something beautiful—or something irreparably broken? Not knowing if he'd just made everything better—or infinitely worse.

Oh my, I don't know where that chapter ending came from all of a sudden.

Personally, I'm not all for this ship, but okay. We'll see where it goes next.

———

I hope you're doing okay now, Danny. I know your birthday is an emotional rollercoaster right now.

"Awesome birthday, right? Sure. Thanks a lot," he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Hey! I'm giving you someone who hugs you and shows you some love because it's your birthday! So don't be mad at me. And you're the one who kissed her, not me!

"That was probably a mistake," he says, looking conflicted.

Well, we'll see about that, Danny. We'll see.