This one took a while, man did i have to do so many revisions, enjoy
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Chapter 9: Moment of Vulnerability
The Battle Wasn't Over Yet
Smoke hung thick in the air, the acrid scent of gunpowder and burnt ozone clinging to every breath. The battlefield was chaos—a living nightmare of gunfire, explosions, and bodies hitting the ground.
Danny twisted mid-air, his ghostly form flickering between solid and intangible as he dodged a fresh barrage of bullets. Too many. There were too many soldiers, and his energy reserves were nearly empty.
Shego was right beside him, a streak of green fire in the night, her plasma blasts cutting through the Imperial forces. But even she was slowing down. They had been fighting for too long.
Then, a shot rang out.
Danny's ghost sense flared to that unnatural energy, but it was too late.
The moment he turned, he saw it—Shego twisting mid-dodge as she pushed him, her body jerking as the bullet tore through her side.
"Shego!"
Danny surged forward just in time to catch her as she faltered, his arm wrapping around her waist. Her plasma flickered and died, her breath hitching as she clutched her side.
"I'm fine," she hissed through gritted teeth. But she wasn't. Not even close.
More gunfire cracked through the air, as an artillery shell explodes near them. Danny shields Shego from the blast as they're sent through the air, his ectoplasmic shield taking the brunt of it. While Shego grunts through the pain. They had to move. Now.
Danny didn't think—he just grabbed her tighter and kicked off the ground, phasing them both through a collapsing wall.
Bullets slammed into the crumbling stone behind them, but he kept moving, flying them low and fast through the ruined village. He barely felt the debris scraping against him, barely registered the pain in his own bruised body.
Shego was bleeding.
And Danny couldn't lose her.
⸻
By some miracle, they reached what was left of a church at the edge of the village. Half the walls had collapsed, but the interior still provided cover. The moonlight filtering through the shattered stained glass gave just enough visibility to navigate.
Danny landed hard inside, his legs buckling slightly as he set Shego down against an overturned altar. His body ached. His head was spinning. But none of that mattered.
Shego let out a low groan, tilting her head back against the stone. "Hell of a ride, ghost boy," she muttered, her voice weaker than before.
Danny swallowed hard, kneeling beside her. "Yeah, well, maybe next time don't get shot and I won't have to do an emergency evacuation."
Shego rolled her eyes, but it lacked her usual bite. She was too weak.
That scared him more than anything.
Shego gritted her teeth, but managed a reply, her voice weak yet laced with dry sarcasm. "Charming spot you've picked, ghost boy," she muttered, each word strained. "Always… wanted to vacation in a warzone ruin."
Despite the gravity of their situation, Danny felt a flicker of relief at hearing her trademark sass. If Shego was still cracking jokes, she was still fighting. "Well, the ambiance leaves a lot to be desired," he quipped softly back as they slipped through a gap in the wall, "but the rates were cheap."
Inside, the wreckage offered a semblance of cover. A partially collapsed ceiling overhead formed a canopy of broken beams and stone that hid them from prying eyes above. Moonlight filtered through a gaping hole in one corner, illuminating dust motes in the air. In the shadows, old wooden pews—splintered and scorched—lay scattered. It was a church, or had been. An overturned altar provided a flat surface at the center of the room.
As soon as they were under shelter, Danny eased Shego down against the altar's side, helping her slide to sit on the dusty floor with her back propped up. She let out a hiss of pain as she adjusted position, her hand never leaving her injured side. Danny knelt beside her immediately. "Shego, let me see," he said quietly, concern flooding his voice despite his attempt to stay calm.
Shego's face was pale under the streaks of soot and the green glow of her still-flickering plasma aura. Her normally sharp emerald eyes were dulled with pain and exhaustion. A lock of her long dark hair had come loose from its makeshift ponytail as she needed to see in their battles, and another strand stuck to a smear of blood on her cheek. She looked up at Danny, reluctant. "It's nothing," she insisted, but the effect was ruined when her voice wavered. "Just… give me a minute."
"Shego," Danny said, more firmly this time. He gently but insistently moved her hand away from her side. She didn't resist beyond a tired glare. His stomach clenched at what he saw.
Her iconic green-and-black bodysuit was torn open on her left side just above the waist, the fabric charred black around the edges of a ragged wound. Blood was oozing from between her fingers where she had been pressing. It looked like shrapnel or a bullet had pierced her there—maybe a graze, maybe worse. Danny swallowed hard, trying to ignore the metallic smell of blood.
He had seen wounds before—being half-ghost didn't shield him from getting hurt, and he'd patched himself up after ghost fights more times than he could count. But seeing her injured was different. His chest tightened with worry and guilt. Shego had been hurt protecting him.
Danny's throat tightened at the sight of the wound. He tore his gaze from the blood and looked at Shego. "This is more than 'nothing'," he said softly, worry evident. "You took that hit for me…"
Shego made a face somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. "Don't flatter yourself," she replied, breathless. "You just… were standing in my way, that's all." She tried to sound flippant, but her wince undermined the effect.
Danny gave a faint ghost of a smile at her stubbornness. Even now, she refused to admit any hint of altruism. "Right," he humored her gently. "Just happened to body-slam me out of a sniper shot. Totally a coincidence."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue further. A shaky sigh escaped her lips and she leaned her head back against the altar, closing her eyes for a moment. Seeing her like this—so vulnerable and trying to hide how much pain she was in—made Danny's chest ache.
Carefully, he shrugged off his backpack (now more of a singed sack with a broken strap after the battle) and searched for anything that could help. He had no real medical supplies; their journey through this war-torn world had left them scrounging for basics. They'd expected a fight, but perhaps not one quite like this.
His fingers closed around a canteen of water, and he set it aside, then pulled out a somewhat clean cloth—an extra undershirt he hadn't used. It would have to do as a bandage.
Shego cracked an eye open to watch him. "What, no magical ghost powers to heal wounds?" she teased lightly, though sweat beaded on her brow. Danny could tell she was trying to distract herself from the pain.
"Sorry, healing isn't in my usual power set," Danny replied with a soft chuckle. "Unless you count an ice pack from the Fenton Thermos." He paused, then added more seriously, "I do have something that might help get the bullet out… if you're okay with some ghostly weirdness."
Her brows furrowed. "Bullet?"
"Or shrapnel, whatever's in there." He pointed gently to the wound. "I think there's something still inside. It needs to come out."
Shego looked down at the torn gash in her side and for the first time Danny saw a flicker of uncertainty in her expression. The blood on her glove was evidence enough something was embedded in there. Removing it with normal means would be agonizing and risk more damage, but Danny had another idea.
"My intangibility," he explained calmly. "I can phase my hand in and pull out the metal. You'll feel something, but it shouldn't hurt as much as digging around with pliers or a knife… I mean, if we had those."
Shego's eyes widened slightly. The idea clearly unsettled her—someone reaching inside her body, even if by ghost powers, wasn't exactly comforting. Her instinctual response was a scowl. "You're going to stick your hand through me?" she asked, incredulous and a bit wary. It was one thing to watch Danny phase through walls or yank her out of danger by making them both intangible; it was another to have him deliberately ghost a hand into her flesh.
Danny raised his free hand in a placating gesture. "Only if you agree. I promise I'll be careful. We don't have a lot of options, Shego." His voice was gentle but urgent. "I don't want you bleeding out or getting an infection. And we can't exactly stroll into a hospital around here."
Shego grimaced, clearly weighing her pride and discomfort against the practical need. Outside, another distant boom echoed, and a flare's light momentarily danced through the hole in the wall, casting fleeting shadows. They didn't have time to waste.
Finally, she gave a curt nod. "Fine. Do it," she muttered, trying to sound tough, but Danny heard the tremor of anxiety beneath. She pointed a finger at him, her trademark spark briefly flaring in her eyes. "But if you mess this up, I'll haunt your sorry butt, ghost boy, got it?"
Despite the seriousness, Danny almost laughed—relieved that she was still herself enough to issue threats. "Deal," he said softly. He shifted closer on his knees, positioning himself at her injured side.
Shego tensed as he lifted his glowing hands. Normally a vibrant ectoplasmic green, his aura was mingling oddly with the emerald hue of Shego's own plasma energy that faintly emanated from her skin. For a moment, he hesitated, suddenly very aware of how close they were. He could feel the warmth radiating off her body, see the rapid but shallow rise and fall of her chest as she steeled herself. Her face was just inches from his—pale but determined, eyes locked on his with an intensity that made his heart skip.
Danny forced himself to focus. There was a time and place to get flustered by a pretty face; this was not it, he scolded himself silently. Ignoring the heat creeping up his neck, he took a steadying breath and went ghost.
His eyes flashed neon green and his body shifted back into his phantom form, turning the white of his shirt into black hazmat, and his skin taking on an otherworldly glow. Shego watched, jaw set tight. Danny knew she'd seen him transform plenty of times by now, but having him use his powers on her like this was different.
Gently, he placed one hand on her uninjured side, bracing her. "Try to hold still," he whispered. With his other hand, now phased, he moved toward the wound.
Shego sucked in a breath as she felt the odd tingling sensation of Danny's intangible hand sliding through her side. It didn't exactly hurt, but it was deeply unsettling; her muscles twitched involuntarily. Danny bit his lip in concentration, brow furrowed as he carefully probed for the foreign object. Through the ethereal sense of his intangibility, he could feel the jagged hunk of metal lodged between two ribs. Found it.
He slowly solidified his fingers just enough to get a grip on the metal, trying his best not to interact with anything else. Shego let out a strangled gasp, her hands flying up to grasp at Danny's shoulders on reflex. Instinctively, she squeezed—hard. Danny winced at the strength of her grip (she still had plenty of it), but he didn't make a sound. "Almost there," he murmured.
In one smooth motion, Danny pulled his hand back out, turning it tangible as it emerged from her flesh. In his gloved palm lay a blood-streaked shard of steel about two inches long. The very sight of it made Danny exhale in relief. If that had stayed in… he didn't want to think about it.
Shego panted, loosening her death grip on him. Her eyes flicked to the shard. "Huh," she managed, voice shaky but attempting nonchalance. "That's one souvenir I won't miss."
Danny allowed himself a small grin. "You're one lucky lady, you know. If that was a few inches deeper—"
She cut him off, groaning as the adrenaline of the moment subsided and pain flared anew. "Spare me… the lecture…" She shifted, and Danny quickly tossed the bloody shard aside, moving to support her again. Her face had gone even paler, sweat dampening her brow from the ordeal. Removing it without major physical trauma had been ideal, but it still hurt.
"Hey, I got you," Danny said softly as she leaned into him. One of her hands was still clutching his shoulder, more for grounding than hurting now. Her head dipped forward slightly, nearly coming to rest on his chest, but she caught herself and reclined back against the altar again, trying to maintain a sliver of composure.
"Don't… say I never let you do anything," Shego joked weakly, attempting a smirk. "Not many people can claim they… literally stuck a hand in my gut and lived."
"I'll add it to my resume," Danny chuckled in reply, relieved that the worst was over. The banter was helping both of them breathe a little easier. But the night wasn't done—she still needed bandaging up.
He grabbed the canteen and uncapped it. "This might sting," he warned as he poured a trickle of water over the wound to flush out any remaining debris. Shego hissed but didn't pull away. The water quickly ran red down her side, mixing with the dirt on the floor.
Working by the dim moonlight and the slight glow of his own ghost aura, Danny took the spare undershirt and pressed it to the wound firmly to slow the bleeding. Shego swallowed hard and closed her eyes, clearly forcing herself to endure. After a moment, Danny tore a long strip from the shirt's bottom and then another, improvising a bandage wrap. He gently lifted her a little, enough to wind the cloth around her midsection, binding the makeshift pad in place over the injury. His hands brushed along her back and stomach as he looped the cloth, and he tried to be clinical about it, he really did. But it was impossible not to notice the warmth of her skin or the toned shape of her waist beneath his trembling fingers.
This is not the time, Fenton, he chided himself as an unwelcome blush crept onto his cheeks. He was profoundly glad for the low light. Focus.
Still, Shego didn't miss much. Even half out of it, she peeked one eye open and noticed the way Danny's breath caught as his hands accidentally grazed a bare patch of her midriff where her suit was torn. A corner of her mouth quirked upward despite her pain. "Enjoying yourself down there?" she drawled softly.
Danny almost dropped the cloth. "I— I'm just trying to bandage you!" he sputtered, his face burning. He secured the knot of the bandage with perhaps a bit more flustered fumbling than necessary.
Shego let out a weak chuckle, which turned into a cough. "Cute," she murmured. "You're blushing, aren't you?"
"Am not," Danny denied reflexively, even as he averted his eyes. He hoped the darkness hid how red his face felt. Sure, he'd faced down ghosts, monsters, and just recently a magic-wielding child soldier from an alternate world, but tending to a beautiful, injured woman in an intimate setting? That turned out to be its own kind of battlefield for his nerves. "I'm just worried about you, that's all."
Hearing the genuine concern in his voice, Shego's teasing smirk softened into something more gentle. She didn't answer immediately, instead letting her head rest back against the cool stone. Danny finished tying off the bandage, double-checking that it was secure and snug enough to slow the bleeding.
"That should hold for now," he said quietly. He recapped the canteen and set it aside. His eyes roamed over the rest of her, checking for any other injuries he might have missed in the heat of escape. Besides some bruises and smaller cuts, she seemed okay. The wound on her side was the worst of it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their breathing and the distant thuds of warfare outside their ruined sanctuary. Danny took that moment to exhale deeply, trying to release the tension that had coiled in him throughout the frantic escape and impromptu surgery. His hands were still a little shaky, adrenaline wearing off.
Shego noticed. Her gloved hand (she had lost one glove at some point, Danny realized absentmindedly, noticing one hand bare) drifted toward him. Hesitantly, as if unsure of what she was doing, she placed it over Danny's which rested on his knee. He looked up, surprised by the contact.
"Thank you," she said, barely above a whisper. The words sounded almost foreign on her tongue, as if she didn't use them often. In truth, she didn't. But Shego knew she owed him her life several times over tonight. And while sarcasm and bravado came easily, gratitude did not. Still, under the veil of darkness in this lonely church ruin, she allowed a bit of sincerity to creep through.
Danny gave her a small, kind smile. "Anytime." He turned his hand over under hers, gently giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You would have done the same for me."
He meant it earnestly, but Shego's face twisted wryly. "I did do the same for you," she pointed out. "That's how I got into this mess."
Danny winced. "Right. You did. You, uh… you saved my butt back there." His voice lowered with guilt. "I'm sorry you got hurt because of me."
Shego shook her head slightly, green-tinted black hair brushing against the stone behind her. "Don't start with that martyr complex, Phantom. I'm a big girl who makes her own choices. I didn't do anything I didn't want to." She met his gaze, her expression firm despite the fatigue. "You would have done the same for me. In fact, you have, like, a dozen times by now."
Danny opened his mouth to protest, to downplay his own sacrifices, but stopped. She wasn't wrong. Neither of them would still be here if not for the other. They'd been saving each other's lives repeatedly ever since this strange alliance began. He huffed a soft almost-laugh. "I guess we're even, then."
Shego smirked faintly. "Don't think this means I'm going soft, though. Next time, I'm pushing you toward the bullet."
He smirked back. "Noted. I'll be sure to pull you in front of any stray rockets as payback."
They shared a quiet chuckle at the morbid joke. For a fleeting second, the war outside felt a little farther away. In that moment, they weren't a hero and a villain from different worlds. They were just two weary people leaning on each other—literally and figuratively—to make it through the night.
A particularly loud explosion sounded in the distance, a reminder that danger still lurked beyond their fragile walls. The laughter died, and both heads turned toward the sound. Through the shell of a window, they could see a faint orange glow on the horizon—fires burning where artillery had struck moments before. The front line couldn't be far from here, Danny realized. They were still in the thick of it, even while hiding.
He felt Shego tense beside him. The reminder of how precarious their situation was quickly sobered them. "We should stay quiet," Danny advised in a low voice. "They might still be looking for us."
Shego nodded, closing her eyes. Now that the immediate crisis of her wound had been handled, exhaustion was catching up with her fast. Danny watched as her head began to dip forward, then jerk up as she fought sleep.
"Get some rest," he said softly. "I'll keep watch."
She opened her eyes at that, fixing him with a stubborn stare. "You're hurt too," she countered quietly, glancing at a bruise on his cheek and the general wear and tear on him. It was true, Danny sported a collection of bruises and scrapes, and he felt a deep ache in his muscles from exerting himself in the fight and carrying Shego. But compared to her, he was in much better shape.
"I'm fine," he assured her. "Half-ghost, remember? I recover quickly." He neglected to mention the bone-deep fatigue in his core from overusing his powers; he didn't want her to worry or try to take the watch from him in her condition.
Shego didn't look convinced. "Even ghosts need sleep, Danny," she murmured, using his name without any teasing tone, just genuine concern. That caught him a little off guard—Shego rarely called him by his actual name. It was almost always "ghost boy," "Phantom," or some snarky nickname. Hearing her say 'Danny' so softly made something flutter in his chest.
He offered a lopsided grin. "I'll catnap when you're asleep. How about that?"
She sighed, too tired to argue more. "Stubborn," she muttered, but then gave a slight nod. "Fine. Wake me if you hear so much as a pin drop or a magic psychopath child approaching."
"No arguments there," Danny said. He adjusted himself to sit beside her. The floor was cold and hard, but he found a spot against the altar that supported his back. Shego was leaning on the other side of the corner, not quite touching him but close enough he could feel her warmth in the cool night.
A silence settled over them. Outside, the sporadic sounds of war continued at a distance—the whoosh of far-off rockets, the faint rattle of gunfire, an occasional tremor of the ground from something heavy. But within this half-destroyed church, it was relatively peaceful for the moment.
Danny kept his ears open and eyes trained on the few openings in their hideout, alert for any sign of approaching enemies or that dreaded sing-song lilt of Tanya's voice echoing through the ruins. But as minutes stretched on, things remained quiet in their immediate vicinity. His mind drifted, returning to the woman resting next to him.
He glanced at Shego. She had shifted to ease the pressure on her wounded side, now sitting somewhat angled toward him, her head bowed slightly. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes resting against her pale cheeks. In the meager light, she looked younger, almost peaceful. Certainly not like the fearsome, confident powerhouse she usually was. It struck Danny how little he actually knew about her beyond the obvious. They had been reluctant allies thrown together by circumstance—he knew her fighting style, her snarky attitude, her quick wit under fire. But he knew nothing of the woman behind the emerald flame.
And yet, tonight she had risked her life to save his. And now he found himself holding vigil over her as she slept, feeling protective, concerned, and oddly connected. In another world, in their normal lives, they would never be here like this. Shego was technically a villain back home; Danny was a hero. Under normal circumstances, they'd be at odds.
But those lines had blurred since they'd been dragged into this war-torn dimension. When survival became the priority, labels like hero and villain started to matter less. What mattered was trust—and they had built that, battle by battle, saving each other in turn until something unspoken solidified between them.
She saved me. The thought replayed in Danny's head. He still couldn't quite believe it, even though he was there. Shego—self-proclaimed evil sidekick and world-class mercenary—had thrown herself into harm's way for him. He wondered what had gone through her mind in that instant. She acted on instinct, it seemed. Perhaps even she was surprised by it.
His gaze drifted to her bandaged side. A deep sense of guilt tried to well up again, but he pushed it down. She had made it clear she didn't want his pity or self-blame. Still, he felt responsible for her being hurt. Maybe if he had been quicker, if he hadn't needed saving… Tanya and her men, might not have landed a hit on her. Danny frowned, clenching his fist. Tanya. He had encountered plenty of dangerous foes in his own world, but that girl… There was something chilling about her. A child with the eyes of a killer, leading soldiers with ruthless efficiency.
He remembered the moment he flew up to challenge her in the air while Shego took on the foot soldiers. Tanya had smirked at him, unafraid despite him being an unknown entity. She had treated him as just another target to eliminate, no monologues, no hesitation. If Shego hadn't joined the battle… A shudder ran through Danny. He didn't want to dwell on that outcome.
A soft sound drew his attention down. Shego stirred, a small groan escaping her lips. Her face pinched in discomfort; perhaps the pain was waking her or nightmares creeping in. Without thinking, Danny reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he whispered, leaning a bit closer. "You okay?"
She blinked her eyes open, looking momentarily disoriented. Then she inhaled sharply, the pain in her side asserting itself. "Ugh… been better," she rasped. Her hand drifted to the bandage on her side, pressing lightly as if to assess.
"Try not to move too much," Danny cautioned, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "The bandage is holding, but…"
She nodded, sucking in a slow breath. After a pause, she glanced at Danny's hand on her shoulder. He started to pull it away, realizing he might be overstepping, but she lifted her own hand and covered his again to stop him. The action surprised both of them, it seemed, because she hesitated before speaking.
"I'm fine," Shego said, a little softer than usual. "Just a nasty reminder."
"Reminder?" he asked gently, noticing the distant look in her eyes. Shego's gaze had wandered to the broken stained glass window above them. Only a few shards of colored glass remained in the frame, glinting faintly. Maybe it reminded her of something—who knew what, with her.
She was quiet for a moment, then she clarified, "That I'm not invincible." Her tone was half-joking, half… something else. Bitterness? Or humility? Danny wasn't sure. "I get carried away, charging into the fray like I'm untouchable. Then a kid with a gun proves I'm not."
Danny could relate. How many times had he been reckless, only to end up hurt or nearly so? Being a hero—or just having powers—could create a dangerous overconfidence. "We all get reminders like that sometimes," he offered in understanding. "Trust me, I've had my share of wake-up calls."
Shego turned her head to look at him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and they searched his face curiously. "You? Mr. Boy Scout Hero?" she said, raising a brow. "What could possibly break through that thick head of yours?"
He chuckled quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand in an embarrassed gesture. "Oh, plenty. I may have some cool powers, but I'm far from invincible too. I've had some… pretty bad days."
The levity from a moment before fell away as some of those days flashed unbidden through Danny's mind. The times he'd nearly lost people he loved, or failed to save someone, or been on the receiving end of a villain's worst. His expression must have darkened, because Shego's smirk faded and she eyed him more seriously.
She shifted slightly, winced, and then said, "Bad days, huh? Sounds like a story." There was a gentleness to the prompt, as if she actually cared to hear it.
Danny felt a pang of vulnerability. He didn't talk about these things much. Back home, he tried to be the upbeat friend, the responsible son, the protective brother. He tried to shoulder the burdens without letting others see how they weighed on him. But here, in this ruined church in a foreign war with someone who should have been his enemy but wasn't… maybe he could share a little.
But before he could decide what to say, Shego surprised him by speaking again, her voice low, almost to herself, "I guess we both have a few war wounds. And not all of them are on the surface."
Danny stayed quiet, sensing she was on the verge of something. He didn't want to break the spell.
Shego closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, looking away from him into the darkness of the church. "You know, back there, when I pushed you out of the way… For a split second, I wasn't here. I mean, I was, but… my head was somewhere else, some other fight."
Danny frowned in concern and curiosity. Shego's hand unconsciously tightened a little on his. "What do you mean?"
She swallowed. Clearly this wasn't easy for her. But maybe the lingering adrenaline and the late hour were lowering her defenses. Her voice came out in a rough whisper, barely audible over a distant roll of thunder (or artillery—one could hardly tell anymore). "A long time ago, back in my world, I was in another battle. Smaller scale—way smaller—but it was a real fight. Me and my brothers against some wacko who wanted to blow up our city. We thought we had it handled, like always. We were cocky. Then this creep gets the drop on my doofus of a big brother, and I just… reacted. I pushed Hego out of the way and…" she gestured vaguely at her side, "took the hit instead."
Danny listened with rapt attention. He knew of Hego only vaguely from the times he had listened in on other heroes gossiping—Hego was a strongman hero in some other city, he recalled, but he hadn't known the connection to Shego until now. Team Go, right? That rang a bell. But he had never known Shego was once part of them, or of the team either. That was major news to him. He stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt her flow.
Shego coughed lightly and continued, her tone detached as if narrating someone else's story, "It was a big plasma explosion. Nasty stuff. I was laid up for weeks. Hurt like hell. And you know what Hego says to me after?" She scoffed, a bitter edge creeping in. "He says, 'Good work, Shego. See, you do have the heart of a hero.'"
She spat the last words like they were an insult. Danny's brow knit in confusion. "He was praising you, wasn't he?"
Shego let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Praising, sure. But that was the moment I knew I was done."
"Done? With what?" Danny asked gently, though he suspected the answer.
She turned back to meet Danny's eyes, and he could see the turmoil there—old anger, hurt, resentment. "Done playing hero. Done being part of Team Go. Done with them."
A silence fell. The wind outside whistled through cracks in the stone. Danny sensed this was something deeply personal. He carefully slid a bit closer, closing the gap between them. Their knees nearly touched. His voice was soft. "I… I knew you had brothers, but I didn't know you… used to be a hero with them."
Shego snorted quietly. "Not many do. It's ancient history as far as what people know nowadays. And it wasn't as glamorous as it sounds." She shifted, clearly trying to get comfortable with the least amount of pain. Danny, noticing her discomfort, adjusted so that he was more in front of her and offered himself as a support. Without a word, Shego allowed him to guide her until her uninjured side came to rest lightly against his chest and shoulder, her position now more reclining with his arm partly around her for balance. It was an awkward semi-embrace, but it helped take the pressure off her wound. The closeness was… distracting, yet neither pulled away.
Shego took a slow breath, perhaps steeling herself to continue. "You want to know why I left the goodie-two-shoes hero business?" she said, a hint of rhetorical challenge in her tone as if expecting him to judge.
Danny nodded lightly. "Only if you want to tell me," he assured. "I'm listening."
She studied him for a long moment, as if evaluating the sincerity of his interest. Apparently satisfied, she looked down at her lap, idly picking at a loose thread on her glove. "You already know I have brothers. Four of them, to be exact. We weren't born with powers or anything. We were just a bunch of kids… until one day, this mutagenic comet decided to pay a visit to our treehouse."
"A comet?" Danny echoed in surprise. That was definitely not what he expected. "Like, from space?"
"No, from Uncle Bob's farm… Of course from space," Shego quipped, rolling her eyes. Danny huffed an embarrassed laugh. Even in serious mode, she couldn't resist. She continued, "Rainbow glittery thing, hit us smack dab in the middle of a sibling squabble. Next thing we know, we're glowing like Vegas at night and each of us can do crazy stuff. Hego—Will—is super strong. Mego can shrink and grow. The twins—Wego—they duplicate themselves. And me…" she held up her free hand, summoning a small orb of green plasma that cast a ghostly light between them, "I got the green fire. Lucky me."
The orb dissipated as quickly as it came, as Shego grimaced from the effort. Danny marveled nonetheless. A cosmic event granting a family superpowers—it sounded like a comic book origin story. Then again, he got his powers from a ghost portal accident; who was he to find her story unbelievable? He gave her an encouraging nod to continue.
"So we formed Team Go," Shego said, and Danny heard the mix of nostalgia and annoyance in her voice. "Our city had its own little superhero squad, courtesy of that comet. At first, it was… I won't lie, it was kind of fun. We were kids playing dress-up and actually making a difference. We had the matching outfits and everything." She rolled her eyes at the memory of those costumes. "We fought bad guys, saved the day, got our pictures in the paper. For a while, it felt great. Being a hero, having people look up to you—it can feel pretty good."
Danny smiled faintly. He knew that feeling: the rush of gratitude from someone you saved, the pride in doing the right thing. But he also knew what often came next. "But it changed, didn't it?" he prompted gently.
She nodded. "We grew up a little. Reality set in. Fighting crime turned into a full-time job. And my brothers…" Shego hesitated, searching for the words. "Let's just say they weren't exactly model teammates. Hego was the leader, older than me by a bit. Big, boisterous, and believe it or not, even more of a 'hero complex' than you." She shot Danny a teasing glance to show she meant it lightly, then grew serious again. "Problem was, he was also kind of an idiot. Strong as an ox, and about as bright as one, too. Always charging in without thinking, making big speeches, posing for cameras… I can't count how many times I had to save his behind because he let a villain get the upper hand while he was monologuing about justice or something."
Danny chuckled softly, trying to picture a male, brawny version of Shego with her sense of drama but none of the brains. It wasn't hard. "Sounds like a handful."
"You have no idea. And Mego—gah, he was worse in some ways. He was a selfish glory hound. Only ever cared about getting credit, even when he did the least work. He'd shrink out of danger the second things got tough, leaving the rest of us to clean up the mess, then pop back to take a bow when the coast was clear." Shego shook her head, seething at the memories. "And the twins… actually, the twins weren't so bad. They were just kids then. Kinda annoying, always bouncing around, but at least they meant well. They idolized Hego and me."
Danny listened quietly, picturing the dynamics. It sounded both comical and sad. Team Go might have been effective thanks to Shego, but clearly dysfunctional in her eyes. "So, you were the responsible one?" he said with a soft smile. "Keeping all those boys in line?"
Shego snorted. "Believe it or not, yeah. I was the only girl and somehow the only adult even when I was a teenager. I guess someone had to be. I kept the team together, coordinated attacks, made sure we actually caught the bad guys instead of just posing for the news. Without me, they would've been toast a dozen times over. Honestly…" She sighed. "Honestly, I liked making a difference, but it was exhausting babysitting them."
There was a current of raw honesty in her voice now that Danny rarely heard. He found himself tightening his arm slightly around her shoulders in a half-hug of support. She didn't shrug it off. Encouraged, he asked quietly, "Is that why you left? Because you were tired of carrying them?"
Shego was silent for a moment. Her gaze drifted toward the distant fires visible through the broken wall. When she spoke, her voice had that tightness of someone admitting an uncomfortable truth. "That's part of it. The other part… was me."
Danny tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
She drew a slow breath. "Keeping them in line, doing the hero thing day in and day out… it was wearing me down. I realized I wasn't happy. My brothers could still smile and play hero, even if they were bumbling. But me… I started waking up dreading our next call. I was angry all the time at their incompetence. Resentful that I had to be the glue and got none of the recognition because Hego was the 'leader'. And…" her voice dropped, laced with guilt, "I started to enjoy fighting the bad guys a little too much. Hitting criminals, breaking things, letting out my anger—that was the part of hero work I liked. The only part, by the end. The saving people part, the smiling for the cameras part… I could do it, but my heart wasn't in it anymore."
Danny felt he understood more than he expected. Being a hero was rewarding, but it was also stressful and thankless at times. And if her family situation made it worse… She might have felt trapped by expectations. "So you left to find something you did enjoy?" he ventured.
Shego let out a dry chuckle. "I left in the middle of the night, no warning. Just took off. Became what everyone always said I'd become if I kept 'feeding my anger'. A villain." She said the word with a dramatic flair, but Danny could hear the tinge of self-mockery. "I traded saving the world for committing grand larceny and world conquest schemes with Dr. D."
"Dr. D?" Danny echoed, then realized, "Oh, you mean Drakken, right? I've heard of him." Not too much, but enough to know he was her usual employer back in our world, a blue-skinned mad scientist.
"Yeah. I basically became a mercenary, working for the highest bidder or whoever promised me an interesting time." She paused. "And… I'm not gonna lie. I liked it. It was a rush doing bad for once, not worrying about collateral damage or paperwork or any of that crap. If something or someone annoyed me, I could just knock it down instead of holding back all the time." Her hand that wasn't on Danny's tightened into a fist, a spark of green flame flickering briefly before she extinguished it with a sigh. "But… it wasn't all fun and games either. You trade one set of problems for another."
Danny nodded slowly. This was the most candid he'd ever heard her. He felt honored, in a strange way, that she trusted him with this. "Do you ever… regret it? Leaving them, I mean."
Shego was quiet, her expression guarded. For a moment he thought she wouldn't answer, but then, so softly he almost missed it, she said, "Sometimes."
She continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I do miss them. Even the idiots. They were my brothers. We grew up together, learned to use our powers together. It's a bond that's hard to just… break. I acted like I didn't care, but walking away from them was one of the hardest things I've done. And I did it angrily, not telling them why. Hego took it as a personal betrayal. I think… I think he still wonders if it was something he did, or if he could've fixed it. Mego probably cursed my name for making him do more work. The twins… they were too young to get it; I hurt them, I know I did."
Danny could sense the raw emotion under her controlled tone. He felt a swell of empathy. Shego, of all people, carrying guilt about hurting her family. It was easy to forget sometimes that villains and heroes alike have personal struggles. Cautiously, he lifted a hand and brushed that stray lock of hair away from her face, a gentle gesture. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
Shego looked at him, a little startled by the touch. Danny himself was surprised at his boldness, but her vulnerability spurred him to offer comfort however he could. She didn't pull away. Instead, she almost unconsciously leaned into his hand for a split second before catching herself.
"Don't be," she replied, attempting a shrug that turned into a wince. "I made my choices. I have to live with them. And hey, being bad has its perks. I got to travel, steal shiny things, fight whoever I wanted… and I don't have to answer to anyone but myself."
"Until now," Danny chimed in with a little smirk, trying to lighten the mood. "Now you have to answer to a half-ghost while in another universe telling you not to move around so your wound can heal."
Shego smirked back, a genuine one this time. "Ugh, don't remind me. How the mighty have fallen." She threw her hand over her eyes in a mock-dramatic gesture. "Reduced to taking orders from a teenager in a jumpsuit."
Danny gasped in playful offense. "Hazmat, and I'm not that much younger than you," he retorted, though he knew there was a bit of an age gap. He decided to not bring up specifics; it didn't matter right now.
She peeked at him from under her hand. "Awww, did I hit a nerve?" she cooed mockingly. "What are you, 16? 17?"
"Let's focus on the 'mighty have fallen' part instead," Danny said quickly, cheeks reddening. "If it's any consolation, you still scare the heck out of me sometimes. And a lot of other people."
Shego chuckled, which was good to hear, even if it was at his expense. "Only sometimes? I'm losing my touch." Then, more sincerely, she added, "For what it's worth… you're not exactly what I expected either. A kid with ghost powers playing hero—I thought you'd be a goody-goody pushover. But you've got grit. And you don't back down even when you're shaking in your boots. It's… commendable."
It was Danny's turn to be surprised by a compliment. "Uh, thanks?" He rubbed the back of his neck, a bashful habit. "I think."
Shego just nodded lightly, acknowledging the exchange without making a big deal of it. They fell into a comfortable silence again, the air between them warmer now despite the cold night, charged with an understanding.
Danny finally spoke up after a few minutes, feeling that he should share something since she had opened up so much. "You know, I relate to some of what you said."
She arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Which part? The part where I got sick of buffoons or the part where I might have anger issues?"
He smiled a little. "More like… the pressure. The weight of feeling like it's all on you. That you have to do everything right because if you don't, it falls apart. I've felt that. A lot, actually."
Shego shifted slightly to see him better, genuinely interested. "Go on, ghost boy. I'm listening now."
Danny drew in a breath. It was only fair, he figured, to let himself be a bit vulnerable now. "Ever since I got my powers, I… well, I didn't ask for them. It was an accident in my parents' lab. One minute I'm a normal 14-year-old, the next I'm half-ghost, half-human with a whole bunch of crazy abilities and a target on my back from every ghost in the Ghost Zone."
"Fourteen? Wow," Shego murmured. "That's younger than I was."
He nodded. "Yeah. At first it was just trying to control my powers and clean up the messes I accidentally made. But then real threats started coming through. All these ghosts with grudges, causing chaos in my town. I had to step up, because no one else could. My parents—" he gave a small laugh, "—ironically, they're ghost hunters. But they had no idea their own son was part ghost. So while they were out trying to shoot me out of the sky thinking I was a menace, I was busy actually fighting the dangerous ghosts. And I couldn't tell them the truth, because… I don't know, I was scared of how they'd react."
Shego nodded; she could understand family issues and secret identities. It resonated. "Sounds complicated."
"It was. Is. Only a few people know my secret back home—my two best friends and my sister. So they help, but… it's still a lot on me, there's only so much they can do. And sometimes…" his voice faltered, memories welling up, "sometimes I messed up. Big time. And people got hurt."
His mind involuntarily flashed to incidents: the time he almost let his family die when the evil future version of himself tricked him, or when he failed to save a friend in time from a ghost attack, or simply the nights he came home battered and lied to his worried family that he was fine. All the weight of the world on a teen's shoulders.
Shego squeezed his hand gently. "Hey," she said, her voice low and surprisingly comforting, "you're only human… and ghost. Whatever. The point is, you can't have a burden like that and not stumble sometimes."
"I know," he sighed. "I know that logically. But every time something went wrong, I felt like it was all my fault. Like, if I had just been smarter or stronger or faster, I could've prevented it. There's this one…" he hesitated, but her attentive gaze urged him on, "… one future I saw where I did fail, completely. I lost everyone I cared about. And I became something terrible."
Shego looked at him sharply. "Future you? Became terrible? I find that hard to believe."
Danny gave a mirthless chuckle. "Believe it. I met an evil version of myself from an alternate timeline. He'd lost everything, and it turned him into a monster. When I fought him, it scared me more than anything ever has. Not just because of what he could do, but because I saw what I could become if I let tragedy and anger consume me."
Shego was silent for a moment, absorbing that. "So what happened? How are you not that guy now?"
"I changed my future," he said. "Made different choices, got help from my friends. But… the possibility still haunts me. Every time something awful happens, I wonder, am I getting closer to being him? Or am I strong enough to never cross that line?"
He hadn't spoken this aloud to many. Even now it was hard, his throat tightening with emotion he usually kept locked away. He felt Shego's thumb gently stroke the back of his hand, a small gesture of comfort he never would have expected from her. It was grounding. He realized he had started trembling at some point.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. "And now, suddenly I'm in this world—this actual war—where I'm being shot at by real people, not ghosts. And I have to fight back to survive, but every time I use my powers on a human being, I… I worry I'm crossing a line. Ghosts are one thing—they're already dead, can take the hit, and most of them just get sucked into a thermos when defeated. But humans? Even enemy soldiers… If I hurt them badly, or—or kill someone…" He trailed off, unable to finish.
Shego's green eyes softened. "Danny…" It was rare she said his name so earnestly. "You have been doing what you have to. This is war. It's not pretty. Believe me, I don't lose sleep over knocking those soldiers out of the sky. They signed up for this. And Tanya—" She clenched her jaw, "—that kid is a menace who needs to be put down. Don't torture yourself for defending yourself. For defending me."
Danny bit his lip. He knew she was right, in a cold logic kind of way. Yet his heart still twisted at the thought of having possibly mortally wounded some of Tanya's men in the skirmish. At one point he had let loose a wide energy blast to cover their retreat. He didn't stay to check if those soldiers survived it. "I just… I never wanted to be a soldier. This isn't my fight. But here I am, stuck in middle of it, and I'm scared that one day I'll cross a line I can't uncross."
His voice cracked slightly at that admission. Shego, without hesitation, moved her hand from his to cup the side of his face. It was a bold gesture of comfort, but it felt natural. He leaned a fraction into her palm, finding solace in the warmth of it.
"Listen to me," Shego said firmly, drawing his gaze. "You are nothing like that evil version of you. You have something he didn't—someone to ground you. People who care. A conscience that actually works. The fact that you're even worrying about this means you're not a lost cause, got it?" Her tone was fierce, protective even.
Danny managed a small smile. "When did you become my personal motivational speaker?"
Shego rolled her eyes with a tiny grin. "Don't get used to it. I'm just hopped up on pain and adrenaline and the fact that you did me a solid. Tomorrow I'll be back to my charmingly snarky self."
"Charming, sure," he joked. But then he covered her hand on his cheek with his own, holding it there gently. "For what it's worth… I like this side of you too."
Shego blinked, looking a bit flustered herself for once. "What side? The sappy side?"
"The side that's real with me," Danny clarified softly. "I know the sarcasm and toughness is real too—I'm not saying you're fake. But seeing you trust me enough to show me when you're hurting… it means a lot."
Shego's cheeks might have taken on a faint pink hue at his words, though it was hard to tell in the low light. She tried to scoff lightly. "You're giving me too much credit. Must be the blood loss making me spill my guts—figuratively."
Danny huffed a soft laugh. "Maybe. But I won't tell anyone." He mimed zipping his lips.
Shego smiled—a genuine, small smile that lit up her tired face for a moment. "Thanks, kid."
They stayed like that, close and sharing warmth, for a peaceful stretch of time. Outside, the noises of war had calmed slightly—perhaps a temporary ceasefire or just a lull in the battle. The night felt almost serene if one could forget the danger. The shattered church around them felt less like ruins and more like a cocoon shielding them from the chaos beyond.
Danny found his eyes growing heavy despite himself. He had promised to keep watch, but sitting here in relative quiet, with Shego resting against him, the fatigue of the day was seeping into his bones. He fought it, blinking hard.
Shego noticed. "You should rest, Danny," she whispered. "You're swaying like a drunk ghost."
He snorted. "Colorful analogy." He straightened, realizing he'd been nodding off. "I can't sleep. What if Tanya's patrols find us?"
Shego's eyes flashed at the mention, alertness returning to her features. "That little witch might be relentless, but she and her goons took a beating too. I doubt they'll scour every inch tonight. Besides… if they find us, we'll know. I'm a light sleeper."
Danny looked at her doubtfully. "You need sleep to be a light sleeper. Stop trying to make me feel better and just close your eyes."
Shego sighed in exasperation. "Stubborn as always." Then she did something he didn't expect—she tugged at him gently, coaxing him to shift position. "Here."
Before he could question it, she guided him so that they both carefully eased down to the floor, their backs now against a pile of what used to be part of the wall. She winced a little, and Danny moved as if to stop and help her, but she soldiered on, eventually finding a position half-lying on her uninjured side. This left a space beside her. She fixed Danny with a challenging look. "You might as well get comfortable if you're going to be stubborn about staying up. Or if you're going to pass out, do it in a position that doesn't cramp up everything."
Danny hesitated, then slowly joined her, sliding down until he was sitting, then lying on his side as well, facing her. The floor was hard and cold, but their bodies provided some warmth. They were very close now, practically sharing the same narrow strip of floor amidst the rubble. He could feel her breath, and see the faint outline of her features in the gloom.
"This okay?" he whispered, suddenly very aware of the intimacy. He didn't want to hurt her or overstep.
Shego rolled her eyes, a faint grin on her lips. "If it wasn't, you'd know. Relax, Danny. Not like we haven't been thrown on top of each other by explosions before."
He couldn't help but chuckle at that truth. "Fair enough." Carefully, he adjusted the tattered remnants of his pack under his head as a sort-of pillow, and offered her a bit of it for her head too. She reluctantly accepted, settling down so that her head was pillowed partially on the pack, partially on his upper arm.
For a while, neither spoke. They just listened to each other breathe, each lost in their own thoughts as their bodies finally took a moment to recover. The war felt distant in that bubble of time. Danny's eyes traced the remaining patterns in the broken stained glass overhead, thinking about how crazy everything had been.
After everything they'd shared tonight, he felt lighter somehow. The fear and guilt were still there, but not as crushing as before. He had someone who understood, at least a little. And he realized he cared deeply about the woman beside him. More than as an ally, and beyond the fascination he'd always had for her as a formidable opponent. This feeling was new, delicate, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. But when she had touched his face and when she had smiled at him, it sparked something warm and hopeful in him amidst all the horror around them.
He wondered if she felt anything similar. It was hard to tell with Shego; she was skilled at masking her feelings. But her actions this night spoke volumes: saving him, trusting him to treat her wound, confiding in him about her past, comforting him about his worries. Those weren't small things.
His heart pounded a bit at the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something growing between them that wasn't there before. Something more than camaraderie. As dangerous as war itself, a wry part of him thought, to catch feelings now. But it was also something good, something alive in a place so full of death.
Out of nowhere, Shego's voice drifted to him, very soft, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to break the silence. "You asked if I regret it… leaving them."
Danny focused on her face. Her eyes were open, staring past him now at nothing in particular. Her expression was unreadable in the dark, but her tone was pensive. "Yeah," he responded quietly.
She breathed out slowly. "I don't regret choosing my own path. But I regret how I did it. Burning bridges. Hurting them." She paused. "Maybe after this… if we make it out of this mess… I might try to reach out to them. I don't know. Just to let them know I'm… not dead, or something." She sounded almost shy at the admission.
Danny smiled gently. "I think they'd like that. I bet they miss you."
Shego snorted lightly. "Hego probably has a 'welcome back to the light side' party planned in his head, even after all these years." Then more quietly, "The twins… they'd probably just be happy to see me."
"And Mego?"
"Oh, he'd be pissed that I'm upstaging him by showing up alive and well," she joked. "But deep down he'd be relieved, I guess."
Danny squeezed her arm reassuringly. "For what it's worth, I think it's never too late. You left because you needed to take care of yourself. Maybe now you can reconnect on your own terms."
Shego didn't reply, but she gave a slight nod. Her eyes finally met Danny's again. They lay there, face to face, the air thick with unspoken sentiments.
A distant whine of engines passed overhead. Danny instinctively tensed, and Shego's eyes flicked upwards. Likely a patrol plane or maybe one of Tanya's mages flying a search pattern far away. It didn't seem to be directly above them, and it soon faded. Still, it served as a reminder that they couldn't stay here indefinitely. Dawn would come in a few hours, and the war would surely escalate with first light.
Danny propped himself up a bit on his elbow, careful not to jostle Shego. "We should think about moving soon," he said reluctantly. "Maybe at first light or before. If we stay, a sweep team will catch us eventually."
Shego sighed. "Yeah, I know. I'm not exactly keen on stepping out there again, but we don't have a choice." She tried to shift herself, testing her strength. Danny immediately helped her sit up slowly. She bit back a groan, hand gingerly on her bandaged side. "Ugh. Not gonna be running any marathons just yet."
Danny frowned. "Maybe we should find you better help. Like a field medic or something."
She raised a brow. "And where do you propose we find one of those? Tanya's not exactly going to offer her personal doctor, and the civilians around here have all fled or worse."
He pursed his lips, thinking. "The Republican front lines are not far, I think that's what the villagers said. If we can get to them… maybe they'd have medics. And at least we'd be away from Tanya's territory. The enemy of our enemy might be our friend, right?"
It was a risky plan. The Francois Republic's soldiers might not shoot them on sight since they'd presumably know Danny and Shego had been fighting the Imperial mages (if word traveled), but they might also not trust two superpowered strangers. Still, what other option was there?
Shego considered it. "The Republicans… those are the ones fighting Tanya's lot, huh?"
Danny nodded. "Yeah. If I remember from that map we saw, their trenches were a few kilometers that way." He pointed in what he hoped was the direction of the Republican lines; they'd seen brief maps while talking to the villagers earlier, though much of it was confusing. He at least knew the general direction Tanya's forces had pushed from, so the opposite side was likely the Republic.
Shego took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Better to take our chances with them than stick around here waiting for Miss Psycho to find us. Besides, if they're fighting the Empire, they might be happy to have a couple of oddballs like us on their side. Or at least, not against them."
Danny felt a surge of relief that she agreed. He had been half expecting her to object or propose they try to go it completely alone. The truth was he didn't relish the idea of stumbling through an active war zone with just the two of them and an injured partner. They needed a haven, even a temporary one, and the Republican lines were the only candidate.
"We should move before sunrise then," Danny said. "Under cover of darkness it's safer." He glanced at her worriedly. "Do you think you can walk? If not, I—"
"Don't even finish that sentence," Shego cut him off, narrowing her eyes. "I'm not being carried like a damsel in distress."
Danny raised his hands in surrender, though he couldn't help a small grin. "I was going to say, I can help you fly while intangible so we can slip through unnoticed."
Shego paused, then smirked. "Fly me to the moon, huh?"
He rolled his eyes at her teasing, standing up and offering a hand. "More like float us through gunfire, but sure, let's call it a moonlit flight."
She took his hand, and as Danny gently pulled her up, she suddenly stumbled against him with a soft curse. The swift change in position made her dizzy and pain lanced through her side. Danny quickly caught her by the waist with one arm while still holding her hand in the other. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself.
For a moment, they were pressed close, faces inches apart once more. Both froze, eyes locking. Danny's breath hitched; even bruised and exhausted, Shego's presence was electrifying this close up. He could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her suit, and the soft puffs of her breath on his skin. His heart pounded loudly in his ears.
Shego seemed equally caught off guard. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no sound came. Her usual confidence gave way to something unsure as she looked at him. The night was quiet around them, the distant war sounds temporarily hushed as if the world itself held its breath.
In that suspended moment, Danny felt an overwhelming urge to close the gap, to act on the connection that had been building. He couldn't tell if it was just the intensity of the night or something more lasting, but it felt real.
He hesitated. Was this okay? Did she feel the same? Or would he get a slap (or a plasma blast) for his trouble? Her eyes searched his, and he searched hers for any sign. He thought he saw her tilt her head almost imperceptibly, a flicker of anticipation in her gaze.
But just then, a far-off burst of gunfire cracked through the silence, making them both flinch and breaking the spell. Shego blinked and cleared her throat, regaining a bit of her composure. Danny steadied her, inwardly cursing the interruption but also half-relieved. What was he thinking? In the middle of a battlefield, trying to… kiss her? Maybe it was the stress making him crazy.
Shego, for her part, inhaled and mustered a smirk to cover the awkwardness. "Steady there, hero. I'm fine."
He gently let his arm slide away from around her waist once she was sure on her feet, though their hands lingered for a moment longer before parting. "Right. Sorry," he mumbled. He wasn't sure if he was apologizing for nearly tripping her or nearly kissing her. Maybe both.
Shego leaned against a relatively intact pillar, taking a testing step. She was clearly in pain, but she managed. "I can walk. Fly, whatever. Just don't drop me mid-air and we're good."
Danny nodded, focusing on the mission again. "I'll keep us invisible and intangible. We'll go slow. If you feel sick or anything, let me know and we'll stop."
She rolled her eyes but with a hint of gratitude in her expression. "Yes, mom." She then gave him a gentler look. "Thanks, Danny. For everything. I mean it."
He smiled, feeling warmth in his chest. "Likewise, Shego."
With that, Danny transformed into his ghost form again, the rings of light washing over him to switch from human to ghostly appearance. He extended his hand to Shego, who took it firmly. In a swirl of intangible energy, he pulled them both into invisibility.
Shego held on close as she felt her body become light and airy under the ghost effect. It always unnerved her a little to go intangible, but she trusted Danny's grip. He wrapped an arm around her securely, mindful of her injury, and together they rose a foot off the ground, then glided silently out of the ruined church, passing straight through the standing wall as if it were mist.
Outside, the night air was cold on their faces. The horizon was just beginning to lighten to a dark blue; false dawn was not far. In the dim greyness, silhouettes of destruction stretched out—broken buildings, splintered trees, scorched earth. Far to the west, muzzle flashes and tracers still winked occasionally. They turned eastward, where the Republicans should be.
Drifting a few feet above ground to avoid tripwires or mines, Danny guided them through the wasteland. Shego clung to him with both arms now—one around his shoulders, one around his middle. He felt her tense occasionally when a far-off shot rang out, but they remained unseen shadows.
It was a strange sort of peace, flying slowly through a war zone undetected. Like being ghosts for real, Danny mused. In that semi-ethereal state, with Shego in his arms, he felt oddly hopeful. If they could make it out, find some safety, maybe they could figure out a way back home… or at least survive until this conflict ended.
As they passed over an abandoned trench, Shego whispered near his ear, "Danny?"
"Yeah?"
A brief pause. Then, "When we reach the Republicans… and if we eventually get home… things won't just snap back to the way they were, will they?"
Danny knew what she meant. Their unlikely partnership, the trust, the closeness—they existed here and now under extraordinary circumstances. What about later? He thought for a moment, then answered with quiet conviction. "No. I don't think they will. Too much has happened. We've changed… I know I have. And I won't pretend I don't… care about you now."
He heard her exhale softly, and she rested her head gingerly against his shoulder. "Good. Because… yeah. Same here." That was probably the closest to a direct admission of feeling he was going to get from her, and it made him smile.
They fell silent again as the first pale rays of dawn began to peek over the horizon behind them. The Republican lines would be near, likely just beyond the next low ridge where dead trees clawed at the sky. Whatever awaited them—friend or foe—they would face it together.
In the growing light, two figures floated forward, hidden from the world, moving in unison. In a world torn apart by war, amid all the uncertainty of tomorrow, they had found a moment of understanding and a bond neither had expected. In each other, they had found strength, a reason to keep fighting, and a fragile, budding hope that perhaps something good could come out of even this nightmare.
And as Danny and Shego disappeared into the early morning mist, heading toward the Republican front and whatever destiny had in store, one thing felt certain to both of them: they weren't alone anymore. Whatever came next, they would face it side by side.
The war would rage on, but for now, after a night of vulnerability and truth, they were a little less haunted by their pasts—and a little more ready to face the future. Together.