#danny: let me go heathens | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gretasimp · 1 year

Text

Closer to Hers

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader x Sammy Kiszka

Word Count: 6.5k

18+ MINOR DNI

Warnings: complete and absolute filth, breeding, mmf threesome, f!oral receiving, m!oral receiving, overstimulation, pleasure/pain, multiple orgasms, mm!oral receiving, if I missed anything, ofc let me know!

A/N: This is purely smut, so walk away now if that’s not what you want. This also has extreme DannyxSammy so if you don’t want that either, please scroll now! For the rest of you heathens, enjoy!

“I’m not going to sit here and let you talk to me like that.” She spat in his face, rage seeping from every pore. The fire in the hearth illuminated her face perfectly to where you could see the flames reflecting in her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her hip popped to the side.

I was terrible with awkward situations. They made my skin itch and my brain pause, doomed to linger here until the interaction was over. I looked over to where Danny was sitting and I had to stifle a laugh as I found him staring back at me, eyes wide, a smile threatening to take over his lips. He pursed his lips and shook his head, looking to his feet to keep himself from laughing. To keep myself from doing the same thing, I aimlessly scanned the room, my eyes running over the various empty liquor bottles that littered the tables and floors. Red solo cups sat on every surface, making everything slightly sticky to the touch. I watched the bodies that roamed around these inanimate objects, the party still in full swing.

What originally was supposed to be a small jam session with a couple to our friends turned into a drunken hoopla that didn’t seem to have an end in sight. Our instruments laid strewn about the living room, amps and speakers accompanying them. The room was drenched in soft light, only the glow of fire and thrifted lamps illuminating the room. A small cloud of smoke hung in the air, the window to the back porch perched open, not doing much.

“Come on babe! It was just a joke!” Sammy said, leaning forward from his seated position, reaching to grab out to his fuming girlfriend. She moved away from his grasp, walking backwards towards the emptiness of the living room. Sam slumped back into the couch, placing his face in his hands and aggressively shaking his head. All of his mannerisms were slightly off as the Sour Diesel ran through him.

“Aren’t jokes supposed to be funny? Do you see me laughing, Sam?” She said, venom spraying all of the room, making everyone in the vicinity incredibly uncomfortable. There wasn’t much that surprised me about her anymore, but to yell at Sam in front of all of his friends? The bitter taste in my mouth unintentionally made a scowl appear on my face.

Sam had been seeing Sara for about two months now and in that time frame, I found the utmost disdain for her. She was by far one of the most distasteful women Sam had ever chosen to bring around us. Though, we couldn’t say a thing about it, because Sam had the habit of falling for the girls we didn’t quite get along with. He often would bring over girls that I couldn’t stand, just to get a rise out of me. I don’t know if it’s just one of his sick games or if he truly gets off on us hating on his girlfriends but Sara was no exception.

Determined to keep out of his business, I stood up from my seat on the floor and made my way over to Danny. He was comfortable sitting on the one of the loungers that sat in his living room. He instantly opened his arms, quietly motioning for me to accompany him in his seat. I gladly accepted, climbing up onto the reclined chair and sinking into his side. He gently pulled me into him by loosely placing his arm around my shoulders, giving me a small squeeze. As I got settled in my new spot, I looked up at him and he smiled down at me, planting a kiss on my lips. He lingered there for a minute, savoring the taste of my lips, mixed with the tequila on my breath. A sweet hum vibrated within his chest as he opened his eyes and looked down at me, my smile matching his.

Danny and I had been going out for about a year or so now. We had known each other from highschool, but never really became close until we bumped into each other at a bar back in our hometown. After that, we spent a lot of time together writing and singing, making music with each other until it blossomed into something more.

“I’m sorry baby, can you please just sit back down with me. Please?” Sam was pleading to her now, metaphorically on his knees. Now within close proximity to each other, Danny and I couldn’t contain our pent up laughter, both of us guffawing at his begging.

“Do you two have something you want to say?” She was staring at us now, her shuttering voice like nails on a chalkboard. Danny and I immediately went rigid, our smiles whipping clean off our faces. It was like we were taken back to middle school, our teacher yelling at us for talking during the lesson. He and I, comical sized frowns on our faces, quickly shook our heads in response to her incorrectly pointed anger. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at us, looking back at Sam.

Again, as the children that we were, we couldn’t contain our laughter as she continued to ream into Sam for the slightly off putting joke he made. I quickly placed my hands over our mouths to keep any lingering sounds of glee hidden, but it didn’t work. Danny only cringed harder as the giggles slowly seeped through the cracks of my fingers, his inebriated state getting the better of him. My attention was not on her but I could feel her daggers on Danny and I as she sighed an annoyed breath and started to march out of the room.

“Really guys?” Sammy said, getting up off the couch and walking around to chase after Sara. We let go of our mouths and belly laughed, Sam shaking his head with a small smile painted on his features. None of us took much seriously, especially when we were high, so to have her screaming at him like that was something so foreign.

“Really us? Really you!” Danny yelled at Sam’s disappearing silhouette. We watched Sam follow her down the hall and out of the house, both of them yelling at each other as they went.

“She’s the worst.” I said, pulling Danny’s attention from the front door to me. He pulled his arm tighter around me, effectively making me squeak in the pressure of his hold.

“You're just jealous!” He said, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“Oh please! Give me a break!” I laughed, nudging Danny in his side. Danny and I were honest with each other, brutally, which was so different from my relationships in the past. He was always open about how he felt, and encouraged me to do the same from the very beginning. We never lied, nor kept secrets. Now whether that was due to the healthiness of our relationship, or the amount of time we spend smoking was still up for debate.

I can clearly remember the night that Danny and I admitted our mutual like for Sammy, as more than a friend. He coaxed me with fancy wine that he brought home from Europe, my secrets spilling out of me faster than I care to admit. It took him by surprise but he was quick to agree with me, not letting me feel embarrassed by my attraction to his best friend. We didn’t talk about it much after that though, keeping that little secret hidden between the both of us.

Danny pulled my face close to his, nudging my head to tilt up as his nose brushed my jaw line. He kissed my neck lightly, trailing them up my throat all the way up to the shell of my ear. His breath teased my face as he spoke in a hungry voice, right into my ear.

“Maybe, if we are lucky,” he said, continuing to kiss and nip at the edge of my face, accentuating every word he said. “They will break up, and he will be free for the night.” My face heated at his words, a deep red appearing on my cheeks. My eyes were wide as Danny now started openly leaving love bites on my neck, trailing them down to the collar of my shirt. I instantly pulled my lip in between my teeth, concealing the smile that threatens to appear. His actions and words made my legs shift underneath me, causing me to squirm slightly in his touch. The music around us was loud enough to conceal your conversation, but my face only grew warmer as I thought of the implications of his sentence.

“One can only hope.” I whisper back to him, turning my face to look at him. He smiled down at me for the second time tonight, as he gently ran his hand up my cheek and into my hair, pulling me to a passionate kiss. He was always so warm, so easy to melt into, even when others were around. He made every moment feel so intense and personal, it was impossible to deny him.

The party went on as they usually did, the music never quieting, even into the early hours of the morning. Danny and I kept ourselves occupied by mingling and laughing with our mutual friends. Sam made an appearance shortly after, no annoying blonde by his side. Sam cared deeply for those around him, and I could see just by the way he walked into the kitchen that he was not happy with the end result of whatever conversation he and Sara had. Danny saw it too, looking briefly away from the red solo cup and nodding his head at Sam as he passed, to which he gave no response. Danny then looked at me, shrugging his shoulders and putting his focus back on the ping pong ball in hand.

Not wanting Sam to be alone, for multiple reasons, I left my place at the table and swam my way through the house guests and into the kitchen. Sam was already pouring himself a glass of whatever alcohol his hands landed on first. The amber liquid kept pouring out of the bottle and into the flimsy plastic cup, only coming to a halt when it reached the halfway mark.

“I take it Sara left?” I asked, leaning myself on the counter across from Sammy. He took a heavy gulp of the liquor, not a cringe in sight as he laid the cup back down. I gave him a disgusted look which made him chuckle.

“What do you think?” He said sarcastically, forcibly shoving more of the alcohol down his esophagus.

“I think,” I said, walking around the counter to his side and grabbing the cup out of his hands. “That you dodged a bullet.” I finished, setting the cup down and hopping on to the kitchen counter. The marble was cold but the warmth I felt in other places kept me warm.

“Is that so?” Sammy said, reaching for the solo cup again. Before he could grab it, I hastily pulled the drink into my hands and pulled it closer to my chest. My legs were crossed over one another to hid any evidence of my arousal. Sammy eyed me suspiciously as he place himself right in front of me, placing his hands on the counter on either side of my hips. “Care to explain?” He added, leaning in a little.

“Well,” I started, uncrossing my legs, allowing Sam to fit himself between them. “I think you could have so much more fun without her.” I said, falsely instilled confidence lacing my tone.

Sam seemed to understand what I was getting at as he stiffed. His eyebrows frowned at me, but quickly relaxed as he looked over at Danny, who was leaning against the wall in the living room. He was sipping on the drink in his hand, watching his girlfriend seduce his best friend and he could not be more turned on. Once Sam’s eyes met his, he gave him a sinister smirk and a quick wink.

To say surprised was the look on Sam’s face would have been an understatement. He looked back at me as I took a swig of his drink and handed it back to him. Sliding off the counter, I was mere centimeters from his lips. Trying to be subtle, I took my finger and lightly traced it on his exposed skin, his shirt not buttoned until about half way down. He looked down at me, his mouth slightly agape and his breathing quick. I too gave him a quick wink before walking away from him and straight to Danny.

Knowing Sam’s eyes were still on us, I quickly pulled Danny into a searing kiss, his hand quickly squeezing my ass. I took the drink from his other hand and began to lead him upstairs, back to his room. On our way out of the living room, I gave Sammy a quick look. He was ogling across the room, basically drooling as I curled my finger towards him, giving him the okay to follow. Before he could respond, I looked away and dragged Danny upstairs.

Once in his room, he quickly shut the door and pushed me against the wall next to it. He placed his hands on the wall beside me and started to attack my neck with kisses. His tongue trailed a line up my jaw and down to my chin before meeting me at my mouth. He kissed me like it was the last thing he would ever do before pulling away breathlessly.

“That was so sexy,” he started, grabbing the drink out of your hand and setting it on his dresser. “You’re so sexy.” He said, pushing his lips back onto mine while placing his hands on my waist, pushing up my shirt.

He pulled me away from the wall and guided me to the bed, letting me fall on the mattress. He quickly got on top of me, pushing my shirt further up my stomach. I quickly stopped his hands with my own, causing all of his motions to stop.

“We don’t want to start without him, do we?” I asked, a shocked smile playing on my lips. He gave a small chuckle and shook his head.

“You think he is actually going to come up?” Danny asked, moving to lay next to you on the bed.

“I can be pretty convincing, when I want to be.” I said, climbing on top of Danny and straddling his waist. I ground down on his crotch, eliciting a delicious moan from him. I could feel just how hard he was through his jeans, his hard on pressing so tightly against his zipper. No sooner did the door to the bedroom creak open, prompting the two of us to look back at the opening. There Sammy stood, looking nervous yet excited all at once.

I quickly rolled off of Danny and stood at the edge of the bed. I again waved at the brunette standing in the entry, giving him a nod and a small smile. He quickly shut the door behind him and walked over to where I was. As hesitant as I thought he was, he came straight up to me and encased my lips with his. His hand instantly went to my hips, looping his fingers into my belt loops and pulled me closer to him. His long hair curtained around our faces, his shampoo smelling heavenly.

His lips were so soft, his kiss melting me from the inside out. I quickly looped my hands around his neck, pulling him even closer to me, our chests touching. He moaned as my chest touched his, my tee shirt not leaving much to the imagination as I did not have a bra on. My hardened nipples pressed against him, making his one hand land on the top of my ass, closing the distance between us completely.

Completely entranced by Sam, I didn’t notice Danny come up behind Sam until I felt Sam's body weight pull away from me slightly. Pulling away from each other, Sam’s hands still wrapped around me, he looked up and back at Danny as he slotted himself tightly behind him. I could see the devilish grin on Danny’s face as he snaked his hand around Sammy’s slender waist and pulled him back into him. This made my already wet panties become soaked, Sammy only pulling me closer as Danny now laid gentle kisses across his clothes shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” Sammy let out, moving his hand to squeeze my ass and kiss me again.

Danny used his free hand to pull me into Sam, the three of us now fully pressed to one another. I could feel Sam whimper into my mouth as Danny’s hard cock pushed against his ass. Sammy pushed back causing Danny to groan loudly into his neck, where he was leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses.

The entire scene was arousing me to a point in which I had never been before. I felt so high and horny all at once, making my world spin around me. I couldn’t stop myself as I took my hand and began palming Sam through his trousers, causing him again to whimper in my mouth. I began to unzip his pants when he pulled away from our kiss and laid his forehead on my shoulder.

“Wait, let me play with you first.” He said in the crook of my neck, while he pushed my hips backward until they hit the edge of the bed. Danny walked around the other side of the bed and situated himself behind me, pulling my upper body onto his lap. His big fingers wrapped around the seam of my tee and pulled up until it was over my head and on the floor.

Sam’s gaze danced over me, his eyes moving to my chest and down my stomach to the zipper of my jeans. Under his intense stare, my arms moved to cover myself instinctively, but Danny held them still.

“Let him look at you,” he whispered into my ear, holding my hands onto the bed. “You’re just so beautiful, I don’t blame him.” My face heated as I closed my eyes and leaned back onto Danny’s chest. He kissed down my face while Sammy began to unbutton my jeans. He slid them down gently, my underwear coming down with them in one motion. My legs closed on their own, covering myself in front of Sammy. He was soft as he pulled off his shirt and climbed on the bed.

You had seen him shirtless before, but now being able to touch and admire him made you open your legs. Sammy slid in between them, laying down on you and capturing your lips again. Having his weight on top of you and Danny’s behind you, was immaculate. Their skin against yours had you mentally begging for more. Sammy, reading your mind, trailed his fingers up your hips and onto your chest, giving you breasts a light squeeze.

“Sammy, please…” I begged, needing his hands everywhere. Danny, releasing my hands, moved his touch up my arms and landed around my neck. Pulling my kiss from Sammy, he replaced him, sucking on my bottom lip. He quickly slid his tongue into my mouth, giving me no room to fight for dominance, not that I wanted too. I wanted the two of them to take everything from me.

“Is she always this needy? Such a sweet girl, already begging.” Sammy asked, watching Danny and I. Danny pulled away with hooded eyes and looked at Sam, licking his lips in the process. I looked over at them, noticing that Danny hadn’t responded and found them staring at one another. Their eyes slowly trailing over one another as Sammy continued his touches against my chest.

“No, you bring it out of her.” Danny replied, leaning forward as he did. Sammy didn’t hesitate as he too leaned forward and let Danny take his mouth in his. The two of them sighed, letting their tongues exploring one another as Danny replaced Sam's hands on my boobs. Sammy pulled his hands up to Danny’s face, pulling him and himself closer together. I watched them, moving my hand down to circle my clit. Watching them sent an entirely new wave of aroual out of me and down my legs.

Before I could let myself get very far, I felt Danny’s hand tighten around my throat and his other hand grab the hand I was teasing myself with. He pulled it away from my center and placed it on Sammy’s crotch. Not moving away from Sammy, the two of them moaned when our hands met Sam's hardened cock. Danny’s hand was over mine, both of us massaging him. I could see Danny’s tongue moving in and out of Sam's mouth, the two of them ravenging eachother.

Sammy pulled away, desperately out of breath and moaning heavily at the feeling of two hands on his dick. He released his grip on Danny’s face and began undoing his pants, feverishly pushing them down his legs. Before he could pull his boxers down, he stopped and looked down at me. He stared at me, his eyes ravishing me up and down, before stopping at my center. He licked his lips, tasting the remains of Danny before laying back down on his stomach.

“Fuck, I want to taste you so bad.” He said, his breath tickling my soaked cunt. He lauded kisses down my knees and tiled them to the top of my pussy. I clenched down onto nothing, letting out an impatient groan. I had never been this pent up before, I felt like I needed him and only him right this second. Sammy chuckled as he saw how much I wanted him, my hips bucking up slightly. Before Sammy could react, the hand around my throat jumped up to my jaw and pulled my face to look at Danny.

“You’re being such a bad girl, so impatient.” Danny clicked his tongue as he patronized me. “I don’t know if you deserve his tongue. What do you think Sam?” Danny asked, looking back down at him.

Without saying a word, Sammy smiled and flattened his tongue against me, licking a delicious strip up my wet slit. I cried out, letting my legs relax completely and arching my back. Danny, still holding my jaw, took his other hand and spread my lips, giving Sam more access to my hole. Taking full advantage of this, instead of using his tongue, he brought his hand up and sunk his middle finger into me.

“Oh fuck, Sammy. That feels so good!” I whispered, my eyebrows turned up and my mouth opened wide. My fingers couldn’t help themselves as they laced into Sam’s hair, pulling slightly on his roots. I heard his laugh again as he worked his finger in me while his tongue worked to collect the wetness remaining.

“Look at him eat you out baby, he fucking loves it.” Danny whispered into your ear, taking his hand off of your jaw and grabbing one of your tits. You felt Sammy nod his head, as if to confirm that he was in fact loving every second of his mouth on your cunt. “I bet it feels so fucking good, you love it baby?” I nodded hastily, looking back up at Danny and letting my other hand caress his cheek.

“I know you fucking love it, you’re so wet. Such a good fucking slut for us huh?” Danny continued, licking the shell of my ear in the process. His words made me hold Sammy’s finger tighter, causing him to moan on my clit. This sent my hips up into the air, the stimulation almost causing me to cum right there. Instead of slowing down though, Sammy added another finger, sending me into a moaning mess.

“Oh shit Sammy, I think you're going to make her cum.” Danny said, pinching my extremely sensitive nipple. The way that both of them were touching and grabbing at me, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. The party was already dying down downstairs, but there was no way I wasn’t being heard by every house guest.

“You think we should let her cum Sammy? You think she deserves it?” Danny asked, his tones sound so sexy. He was breathing so hard, his chest rising and falling so quickly. His cock was so hard against my back, I could feel him dry humping me as Sammy nodded against my pussy. He was so determined to make me cum, he moved his tongue up and wrapped his lips around my clit. His fingers pumped into my fast, curling inward to hit my g-spot.

“That’s it Sam, that’s it. Make her cum all over your face.” Danny said, moving his hand to fold onto Sammy’s cheek. In doing so, Sammy’s eyes moved up to Danny’s and he smiled, holding my clit between his teeth. His tongue flicked it as his eyes moved over to mine, driving me absolutely crazy. The mixture of Danny’s touches on my chest and Sammy working magic on my cunt, my mind was racing.

“Fuck Y/N, cum in his mouth.” Danny said, slapping my nipple, causing my body to be sent over the edge. Feeling my walls clench down on his fingers, Sammy pulled them out, replacing them with his tongue. Danny reacted fast, replacing Sam's mouth with his own fingers, rubbing vigorously on my clit. I screamed again, their names falling out of my mouth as my head leaned back onto Danny's shoulder, exposing my neck to him. He wasted no time attaching his mouth to my throat, biting down and leaving marks as I rode out my high.

My breathing was labored as Sammy pulled his tongue out of me. Danny’s hand still on the side of his face, pulled him up so that he could capture his lips with his own. He moaned as he tasted me, Sammy’s face being wet from my cum. They broke the kiss and the two of them looked down at me, wicked smirks on their faces.

“I think it’s time for Danny to have some fun, don’t you think sweet girl?” Sammy said, pulling me off to Danny and into his arms. I nodded with a smile on my face as Sammy sat on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. With his boxers still on, he laid me onto this clothes cock and rocked my hips with his hand. I sighed as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He tasted so good, a mixture of me and Danny tainting his lips. I could feel Danny get off the bed as one of Sam’s hands slid around my back and the other grabbed onto the flesh of my hip, leaving handprints as he pulled my soaked clit further onto him.

“I have wanted to do this for so long, you have no idea.” Sammy said in between kisses. I smiled, relishing in the irony of what he just said. I pulled him closer to me, our chests pressing together and placing my forehead on his.

“Believe me, I do have an idea.” I said, huffing as my naked pussy pushed harder onto his cock that was growing impossibly big under me. He looked at me then, pulling me into a tight embrace and crashed his lips onto mine once more. This kiss was passionate, and kind. Meaningful and sweet, showing me just how much he needed me. I sighed into the kiss, pulling my hands from behind him and holding his face, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

Feeling the bed dip again, Sam and I broke apart, looking up at Danny now completely naked. Sammy and I looked at one another before I got off of him, and pushed Danny onto his back. Danny, now laying flush on his back, looked up at Sammy and I and grinned. I moved in first, laying on my stomach and taking his leaking cock into my hands. Sam moved up the bed, meeting Danny and curling into him, capturing his lips again. The both of them moaned loudly as I took Danny into my mouth and palmed Sam through his now soaked underwear.

The two of them were panting above me, watching intently as I took Danny deep into my throat. I could feel the tears in my eyes as my nose nudged into his dark pubic hair. His precum ran down my tongue as I bobbed my head as fast as I could. I swirled my tongue around his tip, making him cry out my name.

“She’s so good at that.” Sammy said, pulling at the waistband of his boxers, eager to get them off. He pulled the wet cloth off of his crotch and his hard cock sprang free. My mouth still occupied with Danny, I took my empty hand and quickly grabbed his throbbing cock. I could hear his high pitched moans leaking from him as I gently massaged him. I could tell he was becoming restless as he began bucking his hips to my hand, seeking more friction. Wanting him in my mouth, I pulled off of Danny but was stopped short by Danny pushing my mouth back down on him.

“She looks so good with my cock shoved in her mouth, doesn’t she?” Sammy nodded in agreement with his mouth open. Lifting my gaze, I saw Danny’s hand now replacing mine, quickly jerking Sam and sucking on one of his nipples. Danny grabbed onto my hair as he continued pulling on Sam's needy cock, Sam pinching his other nipple while watching.

“Danny please don’t stop, it feels too good.” Sammy whined, closing his eyes and pushing his head back onto the pillows. Danny hummed in response, still sucking on his nipple. His hand not giving me any remorse, my throat tightened around his dick, making him moan even more around Sammy’s nipple. The three of us cried in pleasure, over stimulation setting Sammy into a frenzy.

“Danny, I’m going to cum. Wait…” Sammy said, reaching for Danny’s wrist. Instead of letting him go though, Danny harshly grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed tightly, making Sam’s eyes roll back into his head.

“Fuck Sammy, you’re so hard. I want to feel you in my mouth.” Danny’s words surprised us both, Sammy’s eyes immediately opening and looking into his. He didn’t waste a second, releasing his grip on my head and moving down to me. Danny laid down next to me and pulled me close to him. Both of us lay in between Sam's legs, one of them pulled over Danny’s shoulder.

“Want to feel us both on your cock?” Danny asked, wrapping his hand around Sam’s balls, effectively using them as a cock ring. I smiled at the sight of Sammy’s back arching as Danny now worked his cock with his other hand.

“Ahh, Danny…” Sammy cried, his hips uncontrollably shaking off of the bed. I moved to take Danny’s place, wrapping my fingers around his balls as Danny moved to wrap his lips around the head of his cock. He gave his tip a few gentle licks before pulling his veiny cock into his mouth fully.

“Sammy…” I called out to him, making him look at what was transpiring between his legs. His fucked out expression made my pussy quiver as I bit my bottom lip. He looked so good, a mixture of pleasure and pain covering his face.

“Please Y/N, I… I…” Sammy tried to form coherent words but was rendered unsuccessful as I joined Danny, licking a strip up one side of his cock, Danny licking the other side. We both worked his cock, his precum running down uncontrollably.

“I can’t! I can’t… please!” Sammy cried out, his hand grabbing out the sheets of the bed. He fisted the linens into his hand, his knuckles growing white from how hard he grasped them. Danny pulled off of Sammy, making his way back up to his face and smothering his neck in love. I didn’t let up though. I took him deep into my throat, moaning to give him more stimulation.

“I want to cum, I want to cum inside of you.” He said, tapping my shoulder to get my attention. Finally stopping, I pulled off of him with a pop. I could feel him relax and suck in a deep breath as I released the pressure from his balls. Smiling to myself, I crawled back up to him and straddled his hips. Before I could line myself up, Sammy sat up and again placed me on his lap. I couldn’t even react before Danny grabbed Sam's cock and lined it up to my entrance. Danny placed his hand on my shoulder and lightly pushed me down onto his best friend's cock.

“Oh fuck, I’m not going to last.” Sammy sputtered out as he became fully sheathed inside of me. He was so big, almost meeting the size of Danny. I sighed as I felt him already begin to twitch inside of me. Not wanting this to be over, I didn’t move, but instead pulled Sammy into a searing kiss.

“She so fucking tight, isn’t she Sammy?” He moaned into the kiss as a reply, pulling my face into his and squeezing one of my nipples. Danny left Sammy’s side and came behind me, sitting his chest flush with my back. I could feel his cock against my ass and I froze.

“Don’t worry baby, not this time.” Danny spoke into my ear while placing his hands on my hips. He pushed my hips forward, earning a pathetic moan from Sammy. He was already so close, his cock nearly vibrating inside of me.

“Next time.” Sammy spoke up, pulling away from our kiss and smiling up at me. Next time. It rang in my head as Danny placed his face into the crook of my neck and chuckled.

“You hear that baby, he wants there to be a next time.” Danny said, pulling my hips back so that I would be flush against him again. Sammy choked out a moan as I rode him, his hands roaming all around Danny and I.

“How does that make you feel, baby? Hearing he wants to have you again, with me in your ass?” Danny huffed out, licking up my neck and back to my ear. All I could do was nod in response, shaking my head up and down viciously as Sammy slid in and out of me.

“Are you going to cum when he cums inside of you? When he shoots his fucking load into my girls pussy?” He said again. Before I could respond, Sammy cried, all of his motions coming to a halt as his head fell back. Danny’s word sent him over the edge, his cock spasming as he shot his cum deep into me. Danny pushed me down, encompassing more of Sammy’s cock as he cried in pleasure, his hips jerking up wildly.

“Y/N! Please keep moving!” Sammy pleaded, wrapping his arms around my back, pulling me completely onto him. I did as I was told, bouncing on his cock, milking him dry. Sam had tears running down his face as he came, his handsome face contorted into pure pleasure.

“That’s it baby, you're taking him so well.” I heard Danny say from behind me. My movements slowed as Sammy slumped onto the bed, his limbs going limp. I smiled down at him, placing a small pack on his lips. He smiled up at me, his eyes barely open. I sat there for a minute, sharing a quiet moment with him, feeling his cock soften inside of me.

“Come here, my sweet girl.” Danny said, helping me off of Sammy and back onto the bed. He laid me down so that I was on my back, my legs already wide open for him. Sammy laid next to me, lightly letting his hands roam across my chest and face. Danny started up my stomach, placing soft kisses up my torso and onto my chest, sending a shiver up my spine.

“Danny please, I need you inside of me.” I whimpered to him. He looked up at me and smiled.

“Such a good girl for us, baby. Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait.” Danny closed the distance between us and kissed me, lining himself up at my entrance. He ran his cock up and down my folds, collecting my wetness and Sam’s cum that was leaking out of me. Danny pulled my legs up and wrapped them around his waist before burying himself into me.

“Holy shit, Y/N. I fucking love your pussy.” He didn't need to let me adjust, his cock slipping into me with ease. Keeping his lips on mine, he began a fast pace, his cock moving at an unrelenting speed.

“Fuck Danny don’t stop, she’s going to cum.” Sammy said, placing his hand on my swollen clit, moving it in fast circles.

“Make her cum, Sammy! Make my girl cum.” Danny said, planting his knees into the bad and forcing himself into me harder. I cried out his name, both of their names as they worked me closer to my end. I couldn’t keep my eyes open as the tightly wrapped coil inside of me finally ripped free. My orgasum shuttered through me, my body shaking uncontrollably as Sam continued to rub my clit, and suck on my breast.

“Oh fuck!” Danny yelled, his pace never yielding. His eyebrows creased together as he felt my cunt spasming around him. His mouth opened wide as he watched Sam worship my chest as my breathing became uneven.

“Baby I’m going to cum. I’m gonna fucking cum!” Danny said, his cock never stopping. He fucked me through his orgasum, his seeding planting itself deep into my cervix. His face landed into my shoulder, his body weight crushing me. His hips continued to rock themselves into me, his and Sam’s cum dripping out of me.

Danny turned us onto our side, my back now facing Sammy. He stayed deep inside of me, like he usually did after sex. He never wanted to leave my heat, always wanting to fall asleep connected. Sammy didn’t leave either, instead he turned himself to the side and spooned me, tucking himself as close to me as he could.

We laid there in silence for a while, gentle touches being shared between the three of us. The party music must have stopped while we were busy, as the quietness of the house lulled us into a quiet slumber. As the darkness of the room began to consume me, I could hear Danny ask.

“So next time, huh?”

158 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year

Text

Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Pray for me besties I got a throat infection -Danny

Words: 1,610

Phase Five Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Wonderwall’ -by Oasis

xxi: Comeback

"Is too late to quit?"

"Cat, no one's asking you to fight him."

"I gotta call my mom—"

"Kate, no!" Clint took the phone away. "Take a deep breath, okay? Your mom needs our help. That video is not good, the Kingpin will not take this lightly, he's going to react, and he's gonna do it in a big way."

"This is my mess to clean up, you should go home, you should be with your family. You can still make it in time for Christmas!"

"No one that's faced Kingpin alone has survived," Cat said. "Except for one, and I rather keep him out of this."

"Kate, you're our partner," Clint added. "Your mess is our mess. We're not going anywhere until this is finished."

"I'm not going anywhere, I was joking," Cat approached and took the phone from Clint's hand. "Let's make a plan."

"Got more magnets!" Cat left the items on the table. "Anything else?"

"We'll let you know," Clint said.

Cat watched them work. They moved almost in sync: categorizing the arrows, testing them, and piling them into groups. She must've been looking at them in a funny way, cause Kate spoke to her with a smirk.

"What?"

"I got the weirdest deja vu right now, watching you work... not important, anyway, don't let me distract you."

"So, this, uh, this holiday party tonight, is it a fancy thing?" Clint inquired as a way to distract them from the heaviness of the situation.

"Yeah. Formal." Kate mumbled.

"You know, you don't have to do this. It is part of the job. It's always inconvenient. It's lonely. You will get hurt... Heroes have to make some tough decisions. So, if you're gonna do this... I just wanna know you're ready."

"...when I was younger, aliens invaded," Kate began, "and I was alone. And I was terrified. But then I saw you, fighting aliens with a stick and a string. I saw you jump from that building even though you can't fly, even though you don't have superpowers..."

Cat hadn't thought about it, but it was true. He and Natasha were always ready to fight, even though they had no healing factor. She wondered if hanging out with fully human agents would help her change her outlook.

"You showed me that being a hero isn't just for people who can fly or shoot lasers out of their hands— it's for anyone, who's brave enough to do what's right, no matter the cost. I'm ready."

Clint looked at Cat. "What about you, Heathen?"

Cat had been going for an entire weekend with practically no rest in between, she hadn't felt like this in ages. The mutant remembered why she'd been an Avenger in the first place: to become hope.

She remembered a time when she'd needed to feel hopeful, she thought about Kurt, and how she'd saved his life by showing mercy. She wanted to be like that again, she wanted to be in a safe space. Although she knew that the rules of heroes no longer worked for her, and her justice would come in a different form, the others would need to accept that as well, and she wondered if they would take it well.

"I lied the other day," she admitted. "Black and blue are my favorite colors."

"Cat, where the hell are you?"

"I was getting some things from my apartment— also, I can't resist a dramatic entrance," she stepped into the venue and looked around. "Anything interesting yet?"

"Yes, you!" Kate said. "That dress is yours?"

Cat smiled. "You like it?"

Her silky dress was purple —Kate's favorite color— and matched the brown of her hair and eyes wonderfully. She had curls tied in a braided bun, and she was wearing high heels, which made her taller than Kate and Clint.

Kate had to take a moment when Cat finally got to them, the archer was incapable of forming a sentence.

"I'll take that as a yes," Cat grinned.

"You're wearing heels!"

"This is a fancy party," Cat raised a brow. "Why the tone of surprise? You barely know me, don't take me for granted."

The archer cleared her throat, nodding in agreement. "Right. Obviously. You look great."

"You do too," Cat hummed. "Love the ponytail, it frames your face well."

"Okay, lovebirds, focus," Clint intervened. "We've got work to do."

The evening escalated when a snipper tried to take Clint down. Cat was still in her dress when she and Barton entered an elevator while some of their helpers shut down the lights.

They rushed to the twelfth floor and hid inside a maintenance room, Cat activated M.O.U.S.E, and the mask covered her face. Clint took off his coat and tie and brought out his bow and arrows.

"Hear anything?"

Cat tilted her head, there was a lot of commotion. "Lotta screaming, I can't find the snipper like this."

"We go with the classics, then," Clint opened the window. "Stay out of sight."

"You got it," she replied, going away to take off her dress and get her suit.

Five minutes later, Cat heard a gunshot and rushed out to help Clint, she saw him standing against a wall.

"Stay down!"

He crouched, Cat put on her dark blue goggles, ran to the window, and jumped out of it. Extending the fabric of her cape, Cat glided before swirling around and landing on the ground in a superhero pose.

She stood and addressed Yelena, who'd tried to shoot Clint as she went down the building moments before Cat. "Gotta give it to you, Lena, you really know how to get on my nerves."

"Nice toddler goggles," Yelena smiled. "Don't forget it was you who looked for me first."

A squeal came from above their heads and they looked up: Kate was falling aimlessly from several floors up and she wasn't doing a great job at slowing down.

"Barton, are you seeing this?"

"I'm on my way."

"Don't try anyt—" she realized Yelena was already gone. "Fuck."

Kate reached the ground at last, but safe nonetheless. Cat moved aside so the girl didn't fall on her and watched as she recovered. "You good?"

"I'm fine," Kate panted, clutching her stomach. "Just another Friday night, am I right?"

Cat sighed. "You're in desperate need of better training..."

A truck stopped not so far away, and a couple of tracksuit guys came out of it.

"Look! It's Kate Bishop and the bluebird!"

Cat growled and pulled out her spear. "My name's Copycat!"

She pushed the button to hide the blades, she wasn't going to kill anyone at first, if she could help it. The young women worked together to take down the group, and one of them spoke when Kate twisted his wrist.

"I know it's not the best moment right now— but I want to thank you, you know? For your advice, how I should speak to my girlfriend—"

"Did it work?" Kate asked, Cat had no idea what that was about.

"It worked, bro! We went to Maroon 5 instead."

"That's so great! So, what's with the gun?"

"I'm sorry, but—"

Kate kicked him and he fell at her feet, then she turned around and threw the guy's gun at another guy's face, knocking him out. Cat's expression was hidden behind the goggles and the mask, but her voice was transparent.

"Okay, that and how you disarmed Maya the other night was kinda cool."

The click of a gun brought them back to the present, a man was pointing at her.

"I got you now, bro!"

Jack Duquesne came out of nowhere and hit the guy's wrist with his sword, he then punched him in the face.

"Jack!"

"Hello, sweeties! Who is your friend?"

"Watch out!"

He turned around in time to shield himself, Cat threw her spear at the man that'd tried to shoot him.

"Thank you for that!"

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this," Cat replied, then shrugged. "Or not. I mean, I don't really know you, so you could still be a bad guy—"

"Who are you?"

"This is Copycat, she's uh— she's—"

A mercenary? A mutant? Anti-hero?

"I'm helping them," she stated.

"Another super!" Jack said delightedly. "Are you with Hawkeye?"

Cat retrieved her spear from the ground. "Really not the time to catch up, man..."

"Jack," Kate called. "Jack, I am— I am so sorry my mom got you put in jail. Are you okay?"

"Never been better," he took down two guys without breaking a sweat. "But I'm afraid I've lost track of your mother."

"Yeah. You and me, both."

"Speaking of," Cat grabbed her taser and used it on a man's throat. "Where the hell is Barton?"

Kate pressed her comms. "Clint, where are you?"

A scream caught Cat's attention and she looked up to see their friend fly out of a window and landing inside the Christmas tree behind them.

"Found him," she said.

"Clint, what are you doing up there?" Kate chuckled.

"I'm just hanging out," he grunted. "What do you think?"

"You're so out of shape," Cat kicked someone on the ribs and felt a muscle in her thigh burning. "Ugh! So am I..?"

The larpers had walked out of the building, and they handed Kate a big bag with arrows, she asked for her mom but no one had seen her. A big truck arrived with more tracksuited criminals and they demanded all of their attention. Kate wasn't ready to face so many of them on her own, so she needed to be in a safer position.

"Okay, we need to split," Cat guided Kate away. "Get Clint out of the tree, our backup will get the people out of the street, and I'll handle the bros— Go!"

Kate didn't fight against her orders, the larpers were already working on getting the people to a safer place so she pulled her cape's hood over her head, grabbed her spear with one hand, and her taser with the other.

After a year of feeling misused, there was no power on earth that would stop her from claiming her place.

"Welcome back, C.C.," she muttered, charging against the men.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @jesuswasnotawhiteman @siriuslysirius1107 @greengarsstuff @itsyagirl01 @23victoria @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #copycat fic

29 notes · View notes

just-a-small-obsession · 11 months

Text

The Sun and The Moon

Act I

Crossroads

Chapter One

The halting of the car woke me, opening my eyes I saw my brother settling in his seat. Moving to Arlen, Georgia had the influence of my brother since he’s a photographer, he was rather happy about moving this time. The atmosphere of Georgia was new one, warm and spacious nothing we have ever experienced before. Danny is my older brother, he’s my legal guardian since both our parents were never really in the picture. Our dad, we never really knew about our dad, but our mom was there, she was in and out a lot. When Danny found out the mom was an addict, he left with me. We’ve lived in three communities before coming here, forth times the charm is what I’m believing right now.

“We’re here, let’s get started.”

Going upstairs I look through the two bedrooms. The room at the end of the oak paneled hallway is the one I picked for myself, the room was big enough for my bed, nightstand and dresser. The window pointed at the back yard of our new neighbor’s home. A small rickety chapel sat there it was intimidating.

“You like it here? I was thinking we could say hello to the neighbors after we get done, would that be, okay?”

His gentle voice brought my attention to him.

“Yes, that’s fine Danny.”

“Their house is really gothic; I’m going to ask if they’ll let me take some pictures.”

Suddenly I became uncomfortable, goosebumps raised on my arms the thought of new people makes my stomach tighten in pain. The stares, the squeakiness of facade kind voices, the reaching of a touch makes me want to vomit. Saying nothing, in response I climbed back to my new bedroom. The outline of my room was simple, it had to be, every room I’ve had looked the same. I position everything the same way, place books in the same order and keep the same blankets that sat on the newly entered sitting space in the window. The morning quickly turned to a late afternoon, our boxes were empty, folded, stacked and storage in the front living room closet. Just as Danny promised we started to walk to the neighbor’s house for an introduction.

“I’m hungry Danny.”

“This won’t take long Bell; we need to make a good impression.”

My body tensed at the nickname, a name that stuck with Danny since I became obsessed with the Disney movie beauty and the Beast at a younger age. The house, as Danny said was Gothic, old and rustic, the paint chipping away due to age and weather. The yard looked well kept and clean, someone must cut it often, Danny and I reach the door and push the doorbell.

Ding…… Dong

We waited, and waited an elderly woman, her hair brown and in a tight bun on top of her head, Dressed in a long black dress, and the sign of the cross hanging around her neck. Her eyes were the thing that disturbed me, they were dull, grey, angry.

“Can I help you?”

“Hello, my name is Daniel Lockhart and my sister Y/n Lockhart we just moved in right next to you and I just wanted to say hello.”

“Oh, hello I’m Keeny and I live with my grandson Jonathan, he’s not here right now, he’s doing his chores, he’s about your sisters age she might see him in school.”

“She is, I must say your home is very interesting how long have you lived here?”

“Hmm, my whole life, is it just you and your sister? What about your parents”

“They are no longer with us.”

“God bless them and their path to heaven.”

“Thank you”

“Are you a believer Daniel?”

“I was raised with no religion miss.”

“Ah so you were raised to be a heathen then” Danny stiffened at her words, taking the insult with only a grain of salt.

“I assure you miss I’m no heathen.”

“we’ll see about that; you should leave the boy should be back at any time.”

Her voice was snooty and sharp as if instead of a tongue she carried a knife in her mouth. We had already here for too long; my legs started to move and sway me as I stood in place. Danny seems to take notice and act.

“It was nice to meet and sorry for disturbing you, we need to get something to eat and settle in.”

‘Of course, you do that, have a nice evening and god bless you.”

The door closed with a squeaking shut. Danny sighs deeply and looks at me.

“Today’s Sunday, which means for dinner it’s pizza day.”

“Spinach and mushroom”

“Yes, I know, and it has to be thin crust, I’ll call a pizza joint and order when we get home, you get in your lazy clothes and pick out a VHS to watch in the living room.”

Throwing on a t shirt and some sweatpants I rummage through my collection of VHSs. Settling on one I put it in the VCR and played it but paused it at the very beginning so Danny and I could watch it together, the smell of warm pizza guided me to the kitchen, Danny unboxing it and putting the slices on paper plates. Danny sitting in his recliner while I sat on the soft couch watching the TV and eating my warm pizza. Danny stops eating and looks at me.

“I need to go grocery shopping tomorrow since we have nothing, but this pizza and I need to meal prep, that means you need to go to your new school alone this time.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone bell I’ll write down what you need to say and ask to the people at the office.”

“……...”

“No bell please don’t shut down on me, everything will be fine, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise”

I gave him a small smile in return, already I was going over a script in my head, what I would say, who I would say it too. Danny would write it down for me but still I need to prepare myself for this interaction beforehand.

“Hey, let’s pinky promise” He asked.

Pointing out his left pinky finger for me to hook on to. Sighing, I do the same with mine and seal the promise with our thumbs kissing each other. He smiled at me and left into the kitchen, the sound of cardboard and opening of trash bins alerted me to the kitchen as well. Danny gathered the leftover pizza in plastic wrap and placed it into the fridge. He kept one out for my lunch tomorrow, as I stand there by the island in the middle of the kitchen Danny prepares my boxed lunch.

“We should head to bed; we have a big day tomorrow.”

“Okay Danny”

“I’ll tuck you in.”

“I’m not five anymore, I don’t need to be tucked in.”

Danny was always like this, overprotective and sheltering. Maybe it was because of our parents, or perhaps because of my disability, but Danny has always treated me like a newborn baby. In my bedroom I was alone finally, turning out my lights and settling into my bed I looked out my window. The dark chapel that sat in the backyard of Miss Keeny’s house gave off a shadow. Closing my eyes my mind wandered about imaginary situations that helped me fall asleep. The moonlight was my nightlight for the first night in this new house that I hoped I would call home for the rest of high school.

#jonathan crane x reader #dc villains x reader #scarecrow x reader

7 notes · View notes

hannahhook7744 · 11 months

Text

Badun Detective Agency Incorrect Quotes (Part 2);

Trigger warnings; Injuries, slight ableism, insults, etc.

Let me know if I should add to the trigger warnings.

Samantha is @casinotrio1965 's oc.

Previous parts: Part 1.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Jace: Hey guys, I'm reorganizing my bookshelf. How do you guys usually do it?

Hermie: By color.

Harry: By size.

Reza, offended: You're supposed to do it aphabetically, you absolute heathens.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Hadie: Eddie.. Eddie.EDDIE. How do you feel?

Eddie: Like I just got hit by a truck.

Reza: That's because you did, you absolute idiot.

Yzla: REZA!

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Harry: Okay I know I said I wouldn't judge but Danny Darling? Seriously? You could do so much better—

Hadie:

Jace: HARRY!

Harry: What? What I say?

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Harry: What's something you guys are better at than Reza?

Hermie: Monster Madness.

Eddie: Yeah, video games.

Yzla: Emotional vulnerability.

Hadie *without a second thought* Remembering things.

Jace: HAYDEN!

Hadie *confused* What?

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Eddie *pointing at Hadie* That is a morally gray child at best.

Hadie: I don't know what you're talking about. I'm an angel.

Eddie: You are the child of Hades and the brother of Mal. I do not believe that for a second.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Random Ak: Aren't you embarrassed about dating Jace Badun?

Elle: Honestly I'm more embarrassed about being indirectly related to Harry.

Random Ak: Why—

Harry *walks in covered in pen ink and chicken feathers, not even acknowledging them*

Elle: See.

Jace *chokes on his drink from the corner of the room*

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Jace *dividing all the OG B.D.A members up into pairs for an investigation* Harry, you're with Yzla. Reza, you're with Hermie. And Mystery is with me. Eddie you good to be alone?

Eddie: Yup.

Reza: Oh, come on. Why does Edmund get to go solo?

Jace: Eddie gets to go solo because he doesn't have a kill count or a track record of endangering himself for no reason.

Reza: That is factually incorrect!

Eddie *whispering when Jace's back is turned* It doesn't count if he doesn't find the bodies or medical records.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Harry: I'm not creepy.

Harry: I'm petty.

Harry: There's a difference, ya' know.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Jace: How much did you spend on this date?

Elle: $1400. But all of it's on credit cards, so it's like $5 a month for the next 2,000 years.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

~~~Bonus: The Protégés~~~

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Lada, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

*Danny is ordering a cake over the phone*

Shop Employee: …and what would you like your cake to say?

Danny, covering the phone to look at The Squad: Do we want a talking cake?

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Hadie: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out!

Danny: In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way?

Hadie: I don't know, surprise me!

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Deja: My hands are cold.

Glauco: Here, let me hold them.

Deja: My lips are cold too.

Glauco *covers Deja's mouth with his hand*

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Lazarus: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

Everlee: Oh. We're going out?

Lazarus: What—

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Samantha, at 18: Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine.

Panos, also 18: Marry me.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Paro: We’re getting married, bitches!

Zuri: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Lada: I owe you one.

Avalon: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Lada: Are you flirting with me?

Avalon: Is that not obvious?

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

*Miriam is crying after a breakup*

Khalil : There there, Miriam .

Miriam , still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room?

Khalil : Great question—

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Panos: I just had a long talk with Paro and Samantha about hitting and now they are yelling 'it’s my turn to perpetuate the cycle of violence' before hitting each other.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Samantha : Many people are mildly dehydrated and don’t realize it. You should drink at least six glasses of water per day.

Avalon: No, eight glasses!

Panos: I heard ten.

Paro: You need to drink at least five glasses of water per minute.

*later…*

Zuri: Okay, I just read through every study I could find to try to figure out whether low-grade dehydration is even a real thing.

Samantha : What did you learn?

Zuri: If you spend all day doing research and forget to eat or drink, you start to feel pretty bad.

Avalon: I’ll get some water.

Zuri: But how many glas–whoa, feeling dizzy.

Lada : Maybe you should just drink straight from the tap.

📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓📓

Inspirations: 1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.

5 notes · View notes

aibhilin-atibeka · 1 year

Text

So I got tagged TWICE somehow XD (jk, love y’all, big thanks to @that-cloud and @a-knight-owls-curse, I adore these tagging games!!!)

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

So, yes, the ones I’m working on, eh? Ought to only be a handful...

...

10 minutes later, it’s decidedly NOT a handful. It’s more like five handfuls, y’all. when did I ever accumulate this many??? why did I decide to work on them simultaneously??????????? new rule: ones that I’ve touched in the past five days or so. also, apparently I don’t have only ONE wip folder, what do you take me for, a heathen? no, I’ve got to have three different ones, one of those an analogue one that I had to hunt for behind the newspaper stash on my desk.

Around 6 original short stories that a) don’t all have titles yet but are plotted and planned out to a T and will be written within the next few days, if not weeks.

Through Troubled Waters (yup, why start into an easy, nice, oneshot after a writer’s block when I can start with the frigging longest longfic I’ve ever longed to write for???) One Piece, Buggy the Clown time travels to his own past and eventually his mini!me and Shanks stumble upon him and don’t leave him alone (neither does he them tho, so it evens out). (mind the tags, please!)

Dead Man Walking (it counts if I edit stuff, right? ... yup, it means I touched it within the last five days or so.) One Piece, a dimension travel (or is it?) piece about Portgas D. Ace (and company). (please mind the tags on this one!)

The Second Part to This Series That Still Exists, Why, Yes, It Does. One Piece, a young Buggy meets Garp a year after his ex-captain’s execution and, well, baby!Portgas D. Ace, as it so happens. Buggy doesn’t trust Garp to treat babies right and gets himself force-adopted/kidnappedoes with him to wherever he’s going. Dadan, meet pirate apprentice!Buggy. Buggy, be flabbergasted at Garp’s choice in babysitter. Ace, be happy.

An unpublished Christmas fanfic, namely a Danny Phantom/DC Batfamily crossover fanfic that doesn’t frigging leave me alone until I finish it.

An as-of-yet unnamed alternative crossover fanfic about Danny Phantom and the Batfamily that insists it wants to be a longfic and whose dreams and aspirations I regularly have to dash to dust cause I do not want any more longfics on ao3 until I’ve finished at least ONE, darn it all.

at least three more oneshots in the One Piece fandom I’ve yet to finish/write more on so they can count as done/edit

So. I had writer’s block for a while there (helloooooo job search, I hate you so. much.) cause I had to write other genres of text a LOT lately and am as unhappy about it as to want to actually publish a freaking book sometime soon, just so I’ll have something else to write for.

as for the tags, I have no clue WHO to tag? Feel free to ignore them if you don't want to.

@gallus-rising and anybody else who’d like to? Feel free to jump in and let me know about your wips, folks! I love hearing about any you’d like to share!!! :D

#my writing #my fanfic writing #one piece #BTTAU #DMW #wip #wips #Danny Phantom #dp/dc batfam crossover #dp/dc crossover #fanfic

3 notes · View notes

antelabbitsghost · 3 years

Text

hey so at 3am last night i decided it would be fun to write how danny died in my personal canon (or amity parker as i'm calling it atm) and it's uh strange so i'm forcing it on all of you

(also pls note that i've never seen memory blank and all of my knowledge on how danny canonically died comes from listening to the theme song religiously and hearing other people talking about it so this is kindof a trainwreck)

okay p similar to how he died in canon

the trio were all just hanging out at his house alone,

(jack and maddie were out shopping or at dinner or smth anf jazz was out with friends)

and sam was like "hey don't you have a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension in your basement"

yes i stole that quote from gf whatcha gonna do abt it nerd

and tucker realizes how fucking sick that is and danny (begrudgingly) takes them down to the basement after a few minutes of begging

and bc danno has been surrounded by this shit since birth he's just kinda like "okay big metal hole in the wall can we go now ://"

n sam is like "actuayl the portal is fucking awesome?? at least go look in it or something man how are you not interested in this"

so ofc danny is just gonna stroll on in and out like some madman who doesn't even care about my carefully constructed story i stole from a transphobe

but bc tucker is interested in tech and labs and other nerd things and is also not a damn heathen he makes him out on his hazmat suit over his clothes before going in

(minus the detachable ww2 mouthy breathy part bc that's just annoying for me to draw in my redesign)

(also they slap the cool dp logo on a little after he becomes dead spiderman)(so like 2 months after maybe)

and sam, seeing all the wires and tools n shit all over the floor of the portal just goes

s: "k i want you to go see all the cool stuff hidden in the metal hole in ur wall but i'm not letting you go in there in some old ass worn out converse and eating shit bc you stubbed your toe on a ghost wrench or something. switch."

d: "dude it'll be fine i'm just gonna go in and out, no big thing"

(it would in fact be a Very Big Thing but shh they don't know that yet)

s: "just wear them you latex wrapped rat man"

and she just kinda forces him to wear her docs bc i really really want phantom's shoes to be docs and i am god in this scenario

so danny goes in and he's just sorta walking around bc apparently the portal is deep as hell

and he does the classic phandom trope of trips on wire and catches himself on the on button

he's got maybe like a split second of blaring warning alarms before he immediately starts getting deep fried

i'm too lazy to write whump rn but imagine the most loud and horrifying and earsplitting siren you can conceive

and now imagine that same sound but it's a dying 14 year old boy screaming it and add unhealthy dose of having you flesh meat and muscle torn from your bones and you're being electrocuted, birthed, killed and created all within a split second

but none of the neighbors hear it bc the lab is soundproofed for ✨plot convenience✨

n then it just kinda. stops.

the portal shuts off, danny stops screaming but it's unclear if it's bc mans is no longer in pain or if he's dead

and his body just drops to the ground

tucker and sam fucking book it over to the probably corpse of their best friend and sam slips a little on the way there

is it bc now she's just in socks on hard linoleum floor? is it bc her tears are on the floor? idk but they're both very dramatic

ne way yall kno ehat happens next and i'm fuckin tired so night bitches

#i blacked out right after i saved this lmao #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #amity parker #phandom #sam manson #tucker foley #amity park

50 notes · View notes

stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

Top 5 Most Hated Characters

As y’all can see, this week’s T5F is a request sent in by anon. I picked it because I guess at the time I thought it would be fun to explore some of TWDG’s least popular, and most hated, characters while also taking into account characters that I can’t stand.

These are characters that the vast majority of us don’t like or downright despise for many different reasons. None of us are going out of our ways to defend most of these bastards, and anyone who is I get the impression they’re doing so for the sake of being Different™... though while looking around for info about these characters and what people were saying about them, I did find myself in some odd places.... come across, eh... odd fanart.

But I guess this is the part where I say this is all in good fun and if you happen to be a legit stan of any of these people, that’s cool. Maybe you can answer some of my questions as to why??

5. Nate

Okay, when I said that I found myself in odd places, it turns out that Nate actually has a bit of a fanbase. It’s not big or anything, from what I can tell, but big enough for me to question why because I was under the impression that we all agreed that this dude sucks.

Seriously, I would’ve put him higher on this list if I hadn’t discovered this handful of people making fanart for him and claiming him as a comfort character. While I find that an odd choice, you do whatever makes you feel comforted, y’know? Just would like to understand why.

As for the rest of us, he’s terrible. Every time I go back to 400 days, he’s someone I never look forward to seeing. I’ve even tried not getting in the truck with him while playing Russell’s story, but in true Telltale fashion, you’re forced to drive along with this creep.

Red flags start going off when Russell’s sharing his story about his previous group, something you can tell left some trauma with him, and Nate is just weirdly fixated on the girl Russell liked. Like yeah okay dude, I get it, it’s the apocalypse and you haven’t had any action for a while but oh my god.

Then the whole walker thing that almost gets Russell chomped is annoying. Oh, and how could I forget about how it’s implied that he attacked the old couple before and was there to finish them off, which he does no matter what and it’s not great.

Hell, he even uses the line Russell gave him but it’s worse because crazy eyes. And if you don’t say anything, Nate murders them right there without a thought and then continues to be a real creep. Fuck this guy.

As the wise Eddie once said, “I don’t what that guy in my life, man!”

4. The Stranger

Hey, have I ever mentioned how much this dude sucks?

I don’t even have to tell you why he’s on this list. We all know the obvious reasons-- manipulated and kidnapped Clementine, which caused Lee to get bit by a walker and fucking die. No one here is white-knighting for this dipshit.

Sure, it sucks what the Stranger went through. He lost his family and that would be enough to drive anyone up the wall. I mean, just look at Kenny. But this dude, okay. Look. Listen. I can only feel so bad for you when you lost your son on a hunting trip that your wife told you not to go on, then when you went looking for him, you literally left the car unlocked and running for anyone to come across. Then you come back and gasp. So your wife leaves you for being a moron... then when you find her dead, you cut off her head and keep it like a damn bowling ball because...??

At least that’s what I get from it. The writers probably should’ve done a better job with explaining what the hell happened but y’know.

That’s not the only reason no one likes this guy. Oh no, you also add to the pile that the Stranger himself is dull. As a character, the dude is just.... boring. And I get that’s probably what they were going for with the whole “I’m just a guy, but you ruined my life and made me this way.”

However, when you set him up the way you did with the talks over the walkie and the stalking, I was expecting a bit more personality outta this loaf of soggy bread. But no... boring yet crazy. Interesting combo and I’m afraid it doesn’t work.

3. Larry

Larry?? On a list of most hated characters?? Nooo...

Yeah, surprise. Larry also sucks. Stop the presses.

Larry is a pain in the ass to deal with for two episodes, constantly belittling the people around him and treating his daughter like shit. Oh, and don’t forget how he behaves towards Lee even if you try to be as nice as possible. Nope, he doesn’t care, he still thinks Lee is garbage and will continue threatening to reveal Lee’s secret to the group. Who cares if that could fuck up the dynamic and endanger the group? Larry sure doesn’t.

Until the very end, this dude is just a splinter in the foot. By the time you get to the meat locker and he has a heart attack, you’re not gonna save him because you think he’ll be better if he survives. No, you’re attempting to save him for Lilly and Clementine’s sake, and if you don’t even care about that, you siding with Mr. Family Man to smash his head in.

Not only is he a soiled diaper, he also don’t have much personality outside of asshole. He has maybe two moments where he’s shown to be just a bit chill? I mean, Lilly tells us that he has a lot of pain and that’s why he’s like this.... but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.

Oh, and can’t forget that apparently he was obsessed with Lilly leaving the lights on so he let the power get cut, so Lilly couldn’t eat ice cream and had to let her hair air dry like a heathen. Unforgivable.

So yeah, fuck Larry.

2. Troy

Ugh, Troy. Fuck this guy.

No really, out of all TWDG characters, this dude and my #1 pick are my most hated. Can’t stand Troy and the only reason I didn’t do a tie for #1 is because for a split second, Troy does show a tiny bit of humanity when Carver is beating down Carver, but blink and you’ll miss it.

Which had me a little concerned to find a handful of posts about having crushes on Troy and drawing fanart but.... again, I guess you do you? And if you can, please explain why because I honestly don’t understand.

Just looking at the screenshot of him annoys him. He’s got one of those punchable faces, y’know?

Anyway, when playing as Clementine, I’m always worried that he’s gonna pop up outta no where and grab her by the neck like he does later in ep3, even though I’ve played s2 a bunch to know that he’s not going to.

But hell, he doesn’t need any excuse to smack anyone around, and there are a handful of times he can really hurt Clem depending on her choices.

Not great, dude.

Can’t say I’m too sorry that Jane shot your dick off.

1. Badger

Yeah, you guys remember Badger. Y’know.... the man who murdered Mariana then laughed about it, claiming that he enjoyed watching her head explode and would do it again and again if he could?

That’s what puts him at #1. He may not have the most screen time like Larry or Troy, but when he is around, he’s fucking awful.

He gets joy from killing Mariana, like it’s some sort of sick thrill for him to go around murdering children and other innocent people.

Remember Francine? Caught her and used her as bait to try and get Javi to come down, and even went as far as to have some fingers cut off. Like, he gets off on destroying people, entire communities.

Shit, he seems to even get off to his own beat down.

He’s fucking gross and outta everyone on this list, I haven’t found a single person being like “Yeah, he’s garbage but I like him kinda?” like no, you’re such garbage that even the Different™ crowd don’t want you.

Fuck Badger.

By the way, if you’ve never had Conrad kill him in your game, I suggest looking it up. It’s pretty good. Gives Conrad a little bit of closure after what happened to Francine, as well as give Javi some closure for Mari’s murder.

Not a single soul wept for you, Badger.

---

Dishonorable Mentions

-Joan. She’s boring, forgettable, and no one is out here gushing over her because most of the time, we can’t even remember her name. -Danny from Vince’s story in 400 Days. Y’know, the dude going to prison because he was convicted of SA. I’ll never understand why people go with him over Justin. Justin sucks, too, but not the same level Danny does. -Lilly in S4. Ugh. That’s a whole other topic for another day. -Arvo, though I guess he has a bit of a following, too

---

Well there ya go. Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

---

Next week’s T5F Top 5 BROTPs

#twdg t5f #twdg clementine #twdg lee #twdg kenny #twdg lilly #twdg larry #twdg jane #twdg troy #twdg russell #twdg nate #twdg aj #twdg #twdg joan #twdg danny #twdg arvo #twdg conrad #twdg javi #twdg mariana #twdg badger

30 notes · View notes

kinglazrus · 3 years

Text

Until Death Do We Part

Truce gift for @anthropwashere! Sorry I'm late, but I hope the wait was worth it!

Summary: For someone who fights ghosts, literal dead people, on a near-daily basis, you would think Danny could handle death better than this. He faces mortality every day, every time he goes ghost. So why can't he face this? Why is this any different than any other day? Because it was his Valerie, and he saw it, and he couldn't stop it. Because it was his fault.

(links to ffn and ao3 on my bio)

Warnings: gore and blood, panic attacks, murder

Word count: 24011

By the time the ambulance arrives, Valerie is already dead. The fight is over, Spectra and Bertrand long gone, and Danny—in human form—cradles her head in his lap. He doesn't know who called the ambulance, or when. Everything after Valerie's fall is a blur. He remembers a scream, his own most likely, and Spectra's victorious cackle, but not her retreat. The citizens had fled at some point near the start of the battle. How long was he holding her before someone returned, saw what happened?

After years of dealing with ghosts, the people of Amity Park had formed a simple routine. Run from the fight, don't get in the way or put yourself in danger, wait for the noises to end, wait a few minutes more, then trickle out of hiding once you know it's safe. The entire city knows the choreography by heart, follows every step with military precision. It's one of the main reasons no one has died during a ghost attack before. At least, until now.

The ambulance's wailing sirens cut out abruptly. Danny barely registers their absence, focused entirely on Valerie's face. If he lets himself get distracted, he might be tempted to look lower, at the wound that took her life a gaping mess of blood and shredded organs in the middle of her chest, covered by his jacket. Don't look at it. Don't think about it. Keep your eyes up.

People talk about peace in death, but he only sees agony on her face. Blood smears her lips, fills her mouth. Her wide eyes stare up at him, dull and empty. Shaking, Danny passes a hand over her eyes, trying to close them. As soon as he removes his hand, her eyelids slide back open. He tries again. They still don't close.

One of the paramedics comes up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, kid. It's not... it's not like the movies. That's not how it works." The paramedic glances back at her partner, a helpless look passing between them.

"I called dispatch," her partner says, speaking softly, but still loud enough for Danny to hear. "Coroner's on the way."

She nods, then turns her attention back on Danny. "I'm sorry but you need to let her go."

Danny squeezes his eyes shut and sobs. Oh, god. Oh, god. He doesn't know what to do. He can't let her go, can't leave her, but she won't stop looking at him with those dead, accusing eyes. Another sob tears through him, and another, each cry ripping him to smaller and smaller pieces. He presses a hand to his mouth, clamping down hard as if he can force the sobs back down his throat if he pushes hard enough.

Belatedly, he notices the taste of copper on his tongue. Danny scrambles away from Valerie, her head dropping with a thump that makes the paramedics wince, and barely makes it two feet before his stomach heaves and he pukes in the street. A hand rubs his back; a soft voice whispers empty reassurances. When Danny finishes puking, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and gasping for breath, he leans back on his heels and looks up at a paramedic. Blinking through his tears, Danny catches her nameplate, C. Vaughan.

"Hey, you're okay," she says.

Danny stares at her incredulously. Okay? How is any of this okay? Valerie is dead. His mind is still reeling. Despite seeing it happen, some part of him can't believe it's real. Someone died during a ghost attack. Not just someone, but Valerie. And she wasn't killed by any old ghost, either. Nothing is okay, and it never will be again.

Because Danny Phantom killed Valerie Gray.

—

It takes nearly twenty minutes for the coroner to arrive. That whole time, Danny refuses to move or even talk. He doesn't approach Valerie's body again, but he can't walk away either. A handful of cops—he's not sure when they arrived—have set up a perimeter around the scene, keeping curious onlookers back. Looking over the line of people crowding against the police tape, disgust swells in Danny's gut. They're treating it like a show, pointing and whispering. Danny, grinding his teeth, glares at them, wanting nothing more than to blast them down the street.

In the throng, he catches a glimpse of Lance Thunder's perfectly coiffed hair.

The scrape of boots on asphalt pulls his gaze from the reporter, and he looks to his right. Vaughan approaches him, a water bottle and a cloth in her hand. She offers both to him. "You should get yourself cleaned up."

Danny stares at the offering blankly.

"Unless you want me to do it for you?"

At eighteen years old, Danny's entire face goes red at the thought of someone cleaning him like that. He snatches the items from Vaughan's hands, soaks the cloth in water, and scrubs at his cheeks. By now, the blood has long since dried, dark red streaks stretching across his cheeks. He remembers how warm it felt when it first splattered across his face.

Danny flinches, hands freezing. It takes him a moment to compose himself, shoving the sensation to the back of his mind, before he finishes scrubbing.

"Careful, or else you'll start peeling for skin off." Vaughan laughs weakly at her joke.

Danny doesn't even crack a smile. His face still feels dirty, but the cloth is more pink than white now, and it doesn't seem to be getting any darker, so he must have gotten all of it. Unsure of what to do with them, he offers the cloth and bottle back to Vaughan.

She takes them, then sits on the curb beside him. Her presence is neither comforting nor annoying, she's just there, a warm body next to him, soaking in his misery.

"It's never easy, finding a body," she says.

Danny holds back a snort. Right. Finding. As if he didn't watch it happen. As if it wasn’t all his fault.

"You're the Fenton boy, right?"

"One and only, last I checked."

"Marty called your parents." She nods toward the ambulance. For a second, Danny thinks she means her partner, the other paramedic, and he's confused about why they would call his parents. But then he realizes she's motioning to the cop standing beside her partner. Every few seconds, Marty the Cop glances his way. "I told him to back off for a bit, but he's gonna ask you a few questions about what happened before you can go."

Danny frowns. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you just found a dead body, and that's a horrible experience to go through, but it also means a bunch of strangers are going to ask you questions about what happened, and I think you should know what's happening before you get into it."

"I didn't find her."

Vaughan raises an eyebrow. "But dispatch said–"

"I was there. I was with her. We were friends."

Vaughan goes silent. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, letting it out slowly. "Oh," she says, packing so much emotion into one soft syllable. Pity, distress, world-weary exhaustion. A hint of anger. Hearing it makes Danny flinch, leaves him winded as if she punched him. Just another ache on top of all his growing bruises. He gets the feeling he's not the first kid she's had to deal with who watched someone die, and he probably won't be the last.

"Yeah," he says.

"Was that your jacket on her?"

Danny nods.

"That was a good thing you did. I can't imagine what's going through your head right now, but I think she would have been happy to have someone with her at the end."

Bracing his elbows on his knees, Danny clutches his head. Vaughan's trying to comfort him, but he finds no solace in her words. She has no idea what she's talking about. The look in Valerie's eyes at the end, seething even as the light drained out of them. His presence brought her no comfort, and he won't be forgetting that any time soon.

Vaughan nudges Danny. "Marty incoming."

He looks up and sees the cop approaching them, beady eyes narrowed on Danny. Marty the Cop keeps a hand on his belt, fingers drumming against his thigh. Inches away from his stun gun, Danny notes. Real quality cops in Amity Park, he thinks.

"Daniel Fenton?" Marty asks.

"No."

"Funny. I know your parents, and I hope you'll be a lot easier to deal with than they are."

"Marty!" Vaughan hisses. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hey, just saying. You know how the Fentons are."

"Have some compassion you heathen."

Marty rolls his eyes. "Daniel. We don't have a procedure for something like this, but I'm gonna need you to come down to the station so I can get a statement. Your parents," he sneers, "will meet us there."

"But Valerie..." Danny trails off. The coroner already has her in a body bag on a stretcher. They're in the middle of loading her into the van, taking her away. Danny watches, numb. A protest nearly rises to his lips, but he holds it back. What does he think that's going to do? They can't leave her in the street, and he can't sit here forever. She's gone and nothing's going to change that.

Marty taps his foot impatiently, staring down at Danny.

Danny waits until the coroner slams the van's back door before answering. "Okay. Let's go."

—

The interrogation room is cold, the metal table raising goosebumps along Danny's arm as he leans against it. Marty brought him here "for privacy." Danny thinks the guy just hates his parents and wants to see him squirm. Danny relishes in disappointing him, far too numb to react to the sombre setting.

"Name?" Marty asks.

"Daniel James Fenton." Danny answers.

"How did you find the deceased?"

"I– I was there. I watched the fight. Um." Danny scrambles for an explanation. "I got stuck in the street, and I saw it."

"Can you describe what happened to me?"

"She and Phantom were fighting some ghosts. I didn't see exactly, but something happened, and Valerie fell off her board. And she–"

"Are you confirming the deceased's identity?"

Danny stares at Marty, confused. The cop had to see her face. She hadn't been wearing her visor when it happened, her head exposed for anyone to see. A good few seconds pass before Danny realizes his mistake. To Marty, Valerie wasn't anybody, just a face behind a mask. Only now does it dawn on him that none of those bystanders were looking at Valerie Gray, a high school student killed tragically. When they saw the body, they saw Red Huntress, a local hero brought down by a foe.

"Yeah. Her name is Valerie Gray. She's a senior at Casper High." Danny says.

Marty's eyes widen minutely. "Your relationship with her?"

Danny starts to say friends, then stops. Would she call him a friend now? He settles on, "Classmates. We were classmates."

Before Danny's eyes, Marty's whole demeanour changes. "Shit, kid," he says. He frowns and rubs his eyes, sighing in a way that makes Danny think of Vaughan. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that, and I shouldn't have– just, sorry. I know it must be hard, but can you tell me what happened?"

Danny spares a moment to collect himself. "She, uh. Something happened and she fell, and one of the ghosts. They, it could shapeshift. And it st–stabbed her." Danny swallows, trying to wash away the bitter taste the lie leaves in his mouth. He almost wants Marty to call him out on it, point out the way his fingers twitch or how his gaze jumps around the room as a subtle tell.

Tell me I'm lying, Danny thinks. Make me tell the truth. To his disappointment, Marty just hums and writes Danny's words in his notepad.

"I'm sorry I had to bring you down here," Marty says when he finishes. "Your parents should be here by now."

Danny nods.

Marty doesn't move, staring intently at the table.

"Are we... are we done?" Danny asks.

"Huh?" Marty looks up. "Oh. Yeah, you can go." He still doesn't move.

"Okay..." Danny stands up, shoving his chair back. The metal legs screech on the concrete floor, but Marty doesn't react beyond a reflexive wince. On his way out of the room, Danny hears Marty mutter.

"A high school senior? Damn."

Danny doesn't stick around after that, quickening his steps and hurrying out to the bullpen. As he nears, he hears a commotion, raised voices.

"Where's our son?"

"Sir, he's just being questioned right now."

"Questioned? What for? He's not a criminal."

"It's the procedure, please, sit down."

"It's ghosts is what it is, and that's our business!"

At the end of the hall, Danny lurches to a stop. "Dad!"

Jack turns toward his voice and beams. "Danny!" He puts down the cop he was harassing, setting them back on the floor. Danny's surprised no one tried to cuff his dad for that stunt. Then again, Jack is a good foot taller than the tallest person here, and at least twice as wide. He engulfs Danny in a crushing hug, thick arms wrapped around his shoulders. "They told us something happened with a ghost and the Red Huntress."

"What were you doing out of school, young man?" Maddie scolds from behind Jack. "You can't afford another tardy."

"Valerie's dead," Danny says.

Danny can't see his parent's faces, not with his own pressed against Jack's chest, but he feels Jack tense and hears Maddie gasp.

"Oh, sweetie. That poor girl." Maddie's hand finds its way to Danny's head, brushing his hair softly. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"There was a ghost–"

"A ghost!" Jack releases Danny and steps back, pumping his fists. "Damn ghosts! Which one did it? We gotta get 'em, Mads."

"Of course, dear. But perhaps we should take Danny home first?" Maddie gives Jack's arm a placating pat and tilts her head towards Danny.

"Please?" Danny's voice is soft and pleading to his ears. All he wants right now is to collapse in bed and shut everything out for a few hours. He'd take days if he could manage it, but with his family, tough luck. A part of him hopes no one tells Jazz any time soon, at least not until he's unconscious.

They head out to the RV, Maddie and Jack claiming the front seat while Danny curls up in the back, thankful for the meagre amount of solitude it provides him. His parents' murmuring voices wash over him, lulling him into a daze as they drive—Maddie at the wheel, thank god.

Danny barely believes Valerie's gone. He glances out the window, half expecting to see her streaking across the sky on her board, a blur of black and red. Not even an hour ago, they were exchanging taunts and banter as they beat Spectra and Bertrand back. Neither ghost was much of a fighter. Together, he and Valerie should have taken them, easy, but all their guns and ectoblasts couldn't stop the mental hits from catching them. Out of all his enemies, Danny's never feared anyone like he fears Spectra.

Pariah Dark and Dan? They might be three times his size and ten times as strong, but he knows how to fight ghosts like them. A well-placed hit, a lucky shot, and victory is his. But Spectra? She leaves scars so much deeper than any ecto-burn, ripping him open and dragging every flaw to the surface. Too weak, too pathetic, too confused to fight against her, she overwhelms him more often than not. And now... every taunt she's ever tossed his way comes to mind.

I'm sure you're only half the monster your parents think you are.

Everyone's afraid of being weak, but I've never seen someone meet those expectations so well!

Not everyone is cut out to be the hero.

Turns out, Spectra was right all along.

—

Maddie pulls up outside Fenton Works, idles long enough for Danny to step out of the RV, then peels out with the sound of shrieking treads. "Let's get that ghost, baby!" Jack bellows. And then they're gone, around the corner and out of sight.

Watching the dust settle over the road once more, Danny isn't sure what to feel. He's pretty sure that normal parents wouldn't just leave their freshly grieving son at home alone so they can go hunt ghosts, but when have his parents ever been normal? At this point, Danny doesn't think he could function with regular parents. Growing up, he wished Maddie and Jack were less Fenton, but after nearly two decades, Danny knows how to deal with Fentons. He knows how to be alone when his parents set out seeking vengeance on the local spectres.

Danny heads inside, kicking off his shoes at the door, and instinctively goes to set down his backpack, until he remembers it's still at school, probably in Lancer's classroom. Unless Sam or Tucker grabbed it for him. He flexes his empty hand before letting his arm drop to his side. It's Friday, anyway. He has all weekend to get his backpack back, no matter where it ends up.

Danny goes straight to his bedroom, flopping onto his bed. He should change out of his clothes, still smeared with Valerie's blood, but he doesn't have the energy for it. The thought of getting up and digging through his drawers makes his limbs heavy. But sleeping in the shirt Valerie bled out on... that thought has Danny lurching out of bed. He fumbles about in his laundry basket, grabbing a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. In seconds, he's stripped off the bloody clothes and dressed himself in, at least relatively, clean new ones.

The bloody clothes get shoved under his bed. Out of sight, out of mind. And right now he wants to be out of here. A few hours of sleep where everything else can just fade away sounds great right about now. Finally, Danny slips into bed, pulling his covers up to his chin, and lets sleep take him.

—

Snow crunches under his boots. The afternoon sun glints off the sparkling surface, nearly blinding him. He has to squint and shade his eyes to see properly. Even then, it hurts. Danny shivers, drawing his arms in close. He puffs out frosty clouds with every breath, crystals of ice hanging in the air for a moment before they melt, droplets falling to the ground.

Scanning his surroundings, he tries to find some kind of marker. A building, a sign. He'd even take a tree, anything that isn't snow. But no such luck. It's a flat white field in every direction, stretching well into the horizon.

"Great," he mutters. Of course, he's lost. He can't even remember how he got here. Flying, maybe. Chasing a ghost. Looking down at himself, he sees his familiar white and black jumpsuit, so he already went ghost.

Danny shivers again, his whole body trembling. His jumpsuit might be great against hazardous ectoplasmic materials, but the black boots and gloves, designed for lab work, provide little warmth. His fingers and toes are already numb. The heavyweight fabric making up the rest of the suit is a little better, but not much. He can't remember the last time he felt this cold. Not since before he got his ice powers, at least. Back then, it felt like a blizzard raged within him, full of furious winds and freezing air.

This feels like sinking into the bottom of a frozen lake, where there's nothing to feel but cold and crushed.

"I can't stay here," he says, receiving no answer. Not surprising. Who would answer him out here? Sighing, he gives the horizon another speculative glance and picks a random direction. No matter what way he goes, he has to find civilization eventually, especially if he flies.

Danny takes off into the air, makes it two feet up, then plummets back down and faceplants in the snow.

It takes him a moment to realize what happened. When he does, he jerks his head back, spitting out snow, and stares at the imprint of his face in the ground. Glancing at his chest, he checks again to make sure he's in ghost form. Jumpsuit? Check. Ghostly aura? He can't tell, thanks to all the snow. Even the white of his jumpsuit blends into the field. If anyone is out there, all they would see of him are the black pricks of his boots and gloves.

Pushing himself back to his feet, Danny tries again. And again. And again. Each time earns him the same result, a moment of weightlessness at the apex of his jump, followed by a lurch as he drops back down. After the fifth try, Danny finally admits it. He can't fly. If he wants to go anywhere, it has to be on foot. Dreading the trek ahead, he sets off.

With every step, the cold digs in a little more, sinking its sharp claws into his chest. Breathing hurts. Every inhale he feels ice coating his mouth. Every exhale, crystals sting as they drag across his tongue. Blood wells in his mouth, tinting the mist leaving his mouth pink.

Still, Danny presses on. He can't tell how long he walks for. The sun stays rooted to its place in the sky, almost directly above him, shining pale and blue. He's gotten used to staring at the bright snow, at least, able to keep his eyes open without them hurting, so that's a bonus. Squinting into the distance, Danny finally sees something. It glitters, bright and blue, although that might be the sunlight. Either way, it brings a relieved grin to Danny's face. Bolstered, he takes off running.

At first, it looks like a giant mass, but the closer he gets, the better he can make it out. Spires of ice, hundreds of them, protruding from the earth, like a giant's icy fingers poking through the grave. They sharpen into needle-thin claws at the tips, far above his head.

Danny slows when he reaches the first one. It's as thick as the Fenton RV and taller than any building in Amity Park. He can't help but feel awed, tipping his head back as he stares up to the top. Something tells him this isn't a natural formation. He looks at it and sees an awesome display of power.

"Jealous?" a voice whispers in his ear.

Danny spins toward the noise, but the space beside him is empty. He backs away, eyeing the open air with suspicion. "Who said that?"

Something rushes at his left side. He stumbles back, bumping against the ice, and nearly tumbles into the snow. "Who's there?"

"Imagine what you could do with this kind of strength."

Danny swings at the voice. It cackles and flies away out of reach, but not fast enough for him to miss completely. His knuckles skim something, telling him this isn't in his head. It's real. It's real and he can fight it.

"Just let it out, you'll feel better."

Danny snarls and lunges after the voice. He chases it through the spires, spitting curses and swinging his fists. Every hit misses, but he gets tantalizingly close, feeling cloth and skin brush his knuckles more than once. He loses himself deeper and deeper into the maze, kicking up snow, slipping on the ice.

All the while, the voice taunts him.

"If only you had this power. No one could stand up to you, could they? But you're just so weak."

"I'm not weak!"

Stale breath wafts across his face. Danny recoils, lips curling in disgust at the smell. The figure, inches from him yet still unseen, whispers, "Then why couldn't you save her?"

"Shut up! Shut up! Leave. Me. Aloooooooooooo–" Danny's cry pierces the air. It reverberates throughout the icy maze, shaking spires and cracking the ground beneath his feet. Jagged fissures split the ice, shattering the spires into pieces. All around him, they fall in chunks, smashing against the ground.

The wail echoes long after his breath runs out and the spires have crumbled, leaving him in a field of ruin. He gasps, hungry for air, chest tight and mouth numb. Something drips off his lips. Red drops litter the snow at his feet. Reaching up, he touches his mouth and his fingers come away bloody. It spills down his chin rivulets, fills up his mouth and lungs until he's drowning in it. Choking, Danny stumbles forward. His foot catches on a chunk of ice and he falls forward, barely catching himself on his hands. Blood sprays from his mouth.

"Pathetic."

Danny raises his head. Everything's blurry, but he can just make out Spectra's dark form in front of him.

"No wonder you died," she sneers. Turning her head, she glances at something off to the side.

Danny follows her gaze and sees a single spire still standing, this one far shorter than the others were. He swallows, struggles to take a breath. It comes out raspy and wet. Pushing through the agony, he crawls forward until the spire is inches away. The white of his jumpsuit is stained red, looking more like Valerie's old suit than his. Reaching out, Danny lays his hand on the spire. His reflection doesn't reach back.

Trapped in the ice, lips blue from the cold, Valerie opens her eyes.

—

Danny's head is thrumming when he wakes. The room spins. Blood rushes in his ears. He feels his heart beating against his temple, his chest, his throat. It takes a good minute for everything to settle down, leaving him flushed and dizzy. He throws an arm over his eyes, the fading image of Valerie's glare piercing the darkness.

It was just a dream.

Danny scrubs his face and pushes himself upright, sparing a glance at his alarm clock. Nearly eight a.m. He slept through the whole afternoon and night, and yet exhaustion still drags at him. Too bad, he won't be sleeping again any time soon. Not if that's what waits for him.

As his pounding heart finally quiets, slowing to a steady pace, he hears a soft buzzing. Danny's head swivels, his gaze searching the room for the source. It must be his phone, but he left that at school with his backpack yesterday. And yet, there it is, sitting just inside his bedroom, leaning against the wall by the door. His friends must have brought it for him after all.

He grabs his backpack and digs through the main pouch, finding his phone soon enough. Sam's name appears at the top of the screen. He hesitates before hitting the answer button.

"Hey, Sam," he says.

"Danny! I wasn't sure if you'd be awake. When you didn't come back to school, we thought you had gotten hurt during your fight, and we couldn't call you to check."

"Not quite, I guess." Danny makes a noise, not quite a laugh, less than a groan.

"No one answered the door when I dropped off your bag, so I left it in the flowerbed and texted Jazz. I just found out what happened."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Um, Tucker's with me, actually. Hold on."

Sam goes silent for a moment. As she's distracted, Danny sets his backpack on the floor again and backs up to his bed, dropping on the mattress with a bounce.

"Okay, it's on speaker."

"Hey, Danny," Tucker says.

"I texted him as soon as I heard. We're on our way over now, but I thought we'd call first. See if you were, you know. Okay."

"I'm–" Danny falters. Of course he's not okay; how could Sam even ask that? What does she expect him to say? I saw Valerie die, and it's all my fault, but sure, I'm great! "No, Sam. I'm not."

"Man, I'm sorry you were alone. We should have gone with you," Tucker says.

Danny pales. "No! Oh, god, Tuck, no." He runs the scenario through his head. Sam and Tucker by his side when it happened. Sam and Tucker dead, just like Valerie. If not dead, then... witnesses to his lowest moment. He wouldn't be able to look them in the eyes if they had been there. He's not sure he can look them in the eyes now. "It's better for you that you weren't there."

"But not for you! We should have asked if you needed our help before you left. Maybe we could have–"

"No. You couldn't have known, Tuck. Look, I thought it was the Box Ghost or something, not..." Danny presses a hand to his eyes and takes a sharp breath through his nose. "It doesn't matter. It happened. She's gone."

In the silence that follows, Danny perfectly pictures Sam and Tucker trading worried looks.

"Danny." Sam takes over. "It must have been horrible."

"Yeah, it was." He can practically hear Sam grimacing at that.

"It must have been horrible," she repeats. "It shouldn't have happened. And you never should have seen it. We're still sorry we couldn't be there for you."

Danny squeezes his eyes shut. Why, why are they apologizing? Why are they being nice? They should be screaming at him for letting Valerie die. Four years of ghost fighting and he loses someone now when he's supposed to be at his best, his strongest. Not only couldn't he save her, but he's also the reason she's dead. If anything, Sam and Tucker should have been there in his place, then Valerie would have survived.

"Guys, it's... it's fine."

"No, it isn't. We can talk when we get there if you want to. It might help."

"Actually, I think I want to be alone right now." Guilt pricks Danny's heart, but he means it. He doesn't want to talk about it, and if they're just going to pity him, then he doesn't want his friends with him. At least not right now. "Maybe tomorrow or something."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I just. Need time to myself, to process," he says.

"Okay, if that's what you need."

"Just don't shut us out, okay, man?" Tucker says.

Danny nods, then remembers they can't see him and promises just as much. "I'll be okay."

Sam and Tucker say their goodbyes, neither of them sounding confident. Danny hangs up before they can apologize to him or offer any more condolences. He doesn't deserve their pity.

Tossing his phone away, he stays rooted to the spot for a moment, trying to swallow down the tightness in his throat. It doesn't help much. Instead, pressure builds behind his eyes, and no matter how much he tries to fight it, the tears come unbidden. He cries quietly, biting his tongue to stay silent, like a child fighting not to be heard. He doesn't hear the usual clangs and bangs signalling his parents' presence—perhaps they're out hunting for Valerie's killer once again, unaware he lies in their own home—but Jazz could be here; it was the weekend. He doesn't want her to hear him and come knocking on his door.

So, he turns and falls onto his side, shoving his face into his comforter, and makes as little noise as possible as his entire body shakes. Jazz says crying is supposed to make you feel better, once you're done feeling terrible. Somehow, he can't imagine any good feelings coming from this. The tears stop soon enough, leaving him with a pounding headache, puffy eyes, and, just as predicted, feeling no better than before.

As he struggles to pull himself together, rubbing the tear tracks from his face, he hears footsteps outside his door. He pauses, holding his breath, hoping they will pass by.

They don't. A light knock comes.

"Danny?" Jazz whispers, her voice soft enough that he can barely hear her through the door. For one terrifying moment, he thinks he heard her after all, but then she goes on. "Are you awake?"

He doesn't answer.

Jazz waits for another second or two, then leaves. Danny lets out the breath he was holding and sags in relief. He will have to talk to her eventually, but for now, he wants to be alone. Assured that he will get his wish, for a little while longer at least, he crawls back into bed. With the nightmare fresh on his mind, he has no plans to fall asleep again, and settles on staring at his phone, grabbing it from where he tossed it away by his pillow. Today is a day for being numb.

—

Danny stays in his room all day. At noon, Jazz comes around again, knocking on his door and asking to be let in. He turns her away.

"I just want to be by myself right now," he tells her.

She gives in easily enough. "Okay, that's fine. But don't forget to eat. I'm going to the library and I'll be back later."

"I won't forget," Danny says. And he doesn't. He thinks about it, a lot, but he doesn't have the energy to go downstairs and raid the fridge for food. There might be something in the cupboard, some crackers he can snack on with little effort, but even then, the prospect of heading all the way downstairs stops him. One day of wallowing won't hurt. He's gone longer without food the few times he's gotten stuck in the deepest parts of the Ghost Zone.

Sam and Tucker send him a few texts throughout the day. Word has spread fast about Friday's events. Practically the whole town now knows that Valerie Gray was the Red Huntress, and that Fenton boy was there when she died.

Danny doesn't like Amity's rumour mill, never has. More often than not, the churning gears spew out harsh words about his family. He's heard everything from jabs at his father's intelligence—completely incorrect, Danny would like to see anyone else design a ghost portal—to sly suggestions about Danny's parentage—thanks, Vlad, for gleefully fuelling those—to whispers about how neglectful his parents supposedly are. He can't entirely argue against that last one, but he still doesn't like to hear it.

Horror fills him at what things they might be saying on Valerie's death.

As night approaches and Jazz returns home, Danny has barely moved from his bed. He got up once to go to the bathroom and ended up huddled on the bathroom floor for a good hour, afraid to look in the mirror, plagued by visions from his nightmare. Jazz knocks on his door again, and, again, he feigns sleep, pulling the covers up over his head. Good thing, because this time, instead of walking away when he doesn't respond, she opens the door and peeks inside.

"Oh, Danny," she says. Danny struggles to keep his breathing even as she walks closer, her steps signalled only by the creaking of his floorboards. The bed dips when she sits on the other side, at his back. Her hand rests on his hair, nearly making him flinch.

"I hope you know I'm here for you. It's only been a day, but don't lock yourself away in here. It won't make you feel any better."

He wonders why she's saying all this when he's asleep, as far as she knows. If he hadn't been awake, her words would mean nothing to him. He scowls into his pillow, suddenly decided that they do mean nothing to him. If this is her version of helping, comforting him when he isn't even awake to hear it, then he doesn't want her help. Danny's glad when she leaves.

Sometime later, he's not sure how long, Maddie and Jack come home, too. They make far more noise, or Jack does, stomping around downstairs, grumbling his disappointment at catching no ghosts. They come to check on him, too, but unlike Jazz, they stay at his door, saying nothing, slipping away when they realize he's 'sleeping'.

Danny almost laughs. Sleeping, right. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Valerie falling, hears her scream. Relives the moment over and over again with Spectra's laughter echoing in his ears. If these are the kinds of things plaguing him while awake, he doesn't want to know what else lies waiting in his nightmares, especially after last night. He sits in his room, curled on his bed, and stares at nothing. More than once, he hears Jack and Maddie groaning about the ghost they failed to catch.

"We'll get them, Mads. Don't you worry. No rotten ghost can escape the Fentons for long!"

"That poor girl. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened."

Then why didn't you try and stop it? a traitorous part of Danny's mind whispers. If you knew, why didn't you save her?

A more rational thought breaks through the bitter hisses. And what could they have done? Hunted ghosts more than they already do? Built a permanent containment system so Danny could keep his enemies locked away forever? Put a shield around all of Amity Park to keep the ghosts out?

Yes.

Danny stairs up at his ceiling, blinking slowly as he ponders that revelation. Yes, they could have. If they thought ghosts were so dangerous, if they expected someone to die at their hands eventually, then they should have done something, anything, to stop it. Make something to ward ghosts away, arm citizens with protective gear and weapons, close the fucking portal. They had so many options and they did nothing.

Danny has never hated his parents before. Been mad at them? Yes. Embarrassed by them? Definitely. But hated them? The feeling is so foreign, yet it rushes quickly to fill his entire being, a burning rage that has him clenching and unclenching his fists, holding back a blast of ectoplasm. Furious accusations ring through his head. Why didn't you; how couldn't you; you could have stopped this!

They could have stopped it.

They could have stopped him.

Danny chokes on bitter laughter. It's not funny, but he can't help it. His parents are putting in all this effort to find Valerie's killer, but little do they know, he's living right above their heads. Maybe if they looked at him with the same accusing eye they cast on Jazz whenever she acts a little out of the ordinary, they could have prevented Valerie's death long ago.

He resists the urge to call out, "I'm here! Come get me!" As much as he wants them to turn their weapons on him, the image fills him with terror. It's bad enough staring at them from the bad end of a barrel in ghost mode, but doing it as a human? Telling them he had killed someone? He wants someone to hate him, to scream at him, but at the same time, he can't stand seeing the betrayal in their eyes, realizing that he'd been a ghost all along, the one thing they hate above all else.

Danny whimpers. This is pathetic; he's pathetic. Forget hating his parents, he doesn't think he's ever hated himself this much before. But it still doesn't matter, because it won't bring Valerie back.

—

There's a shadow in Danny's room. He finds it the second day after Valerie's death, when he's nearing forty-eight hours of no sleep. He hasn't tried since yesterday, too afraid of his nightmares, occupying himself with his phone instead. Hell, he even picked up his textbook at one point, when playing games got too boring.

He hasn't eaten yet, despite Jazz's efforts, and barely had anything to drink. Stomach cramps come and go, but the headache stays with him, a combination of dehydration and exhaustion as the fortieth hour without sleep slips by. It's no surprise, then, that he doesn't notice the shadow right away, not until it's solid enough to block out the glow-in-the-dark stars on his wall even though he stares right at it. Each cluster of stars, lovingly placed by his hand, forms a constellation. Together, they mimic the night sky, as well as plastic stars in a square room can mimic the infinite expanse of space. Danny knows the patterns by heart, can trace them with his eyes closed. When he sees two of Cepheus' stars are gone, he realizes something's wrong.

Dragging himself out of his trance, he rubs his eyes, scratchy and dry from staying open so long. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, and even then, he has to strain to see... something. It doesn't look like much; a dark cloud blending into the shadows of his room. The shape isn't human, or even ghostly. Just there.

Reaching over to his bedside table, Danny switches on his lamp. Soft orange light fills the room, illuminating the corner. The shadow is still there.

"He–" Danny's voice cracks. He swallows, grimacing at how dry it is. It's been a while since he had something to drink, or eat for that matter. "Hello?" he tries again, once it doesn't hurt to talk.

Anyone else might feel ridiculous talking to a cloud, but Danny's had entire conversations with less. You get used to that sort of thing when you talk to ghosts more than living people.

The cloud doesn't respond or react in any way. Hesitantly, Danny scratches ghost off the list of possibilities. Some kind of Ghost Zone anomaly? Not impossible, considering he lives ten feet above one of the only stable ghost portals in existence. A ghost messing with him? His ghost sense didn't go off, but it only works when an actual ghost is nearby, not an offshoot of their powers.

He can only think of one thing ghost-related that might show itself to him now of all times. He doesn't want to feel hope, but it swells in his chest anyway, bubbling up his throat until a single name bursts from his lips. "Valerie?"

The shadow quivers.

Danny clambers off his bed. "Valerie? Is it really you?"

When he gets close, the temperature plummets. A shiver seizes him, cold fingers curling around his spine.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to!"

Something cracks. Danny cries out as pain shoots up his back. He crumples, falling to the floor. It burns the same way sticking your hand in a bowl of ice water burns. He thinks he might shatter any second.

The shadow drifts closer.

"Stay back!" Danny shouts. Rolling onto his stomach, he crawls away, each movement sending searing pain up his back. Fighting back gasps of pain, he manages to drag himself up with his bed and turns on the shadow, still formless, but he has no doubts about its identity now. Valerie's hateful gaze stares out from the darkness.

Danny flees. It hurts, both running from her and just running. Every step feels like someone is driving a dagger deeper and deeper into his back, but he doesn't stop. He darts down the hall to Jazz's room and bangs on her door. Going ghost doesn't even cross his mind. He just needs someone else to see, needs to know this isn't all in his head.

"Jazz!" he shouts quietly.

Jazz rips the door open, a relieved look on her face. "You're out of your room." She takes in his panicked expression and turns serious. "What happened?"

Danny grabs her hand without saying anything and drags her to his room. "Look in the corner."

Jazz stops just in front of his door, glancing back at him; Danny has to prod her back to get her to step forward. She peeks her head in first, moving slow and deliberate. A few more steps and she slips into the darkness of his room. Danny bites his lip, afraid to go after her, slumping against the wall instead. Standing up hurts. Moving hurts. Everything hurts. He tries to slide down to the floor, but that hurts, too, and he resigns himself to standing perfectly still, waiting for Jazz's reaction.

She sticks her head out of his doorway. Rather than looking shocked like he expected, she stares at him with worry. "There's nothing here."

"What?" Danny jerks forward, biting back a wince of pain. Shooing Jazz back, he takes her place, clinging to the doorframe as he leans inside. The corner of his room is empty. A quick scan reveals no shadows out of place. "But..."

"Danny, are you okay? You haven't come out of your room in two days; that's not healthy. Have you been eating?" Jazz raises a hand to his forehead, but he flinches away from her touch.

"It was Valerie. I saw Valerie's ghost."

"Did you ghost sense go off?"

"Well, no. Not really. But it was her!"

Danny hates the way Jazz stares at him, a trace of a frown on her lips, her gaze critical, judging him, analyzing every twitch.

"Danny, you're distraught."

"No shit I'm distraught! Valerie's haunting me, apparently!" And she should. She has every right.

"Is she haunting you, or are you haunted by her?" Jazz asks.

Danny reels away from her, scowling. "What?"

"You're exhausted. You haven't been eating. Have you even changed your clothes since yesterday? Of course, you're thinking about Valerie, but you need to think about yourself, too." She reaches out again.

This time, Danny slaps her hand away, staring at her in disbelief. His lips curl back in a snarl. "That's not what this is. Jazz, I killed Valerie!"

"I know it feels like that, but it's not your fault. Just because you couldn't save her doesn't mean you did it."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do, Danny. Stop shouting, you're gonna wake Mom and Dad."

"No, I'm not shouting. You're not listening to me!

"Danny!"

His chest heaves. Breathing through his nose, Danny struggles to contain himself. The hall goes deathly quiet without their voices to fill it.

Jazz's face crumples. She rubs her eyes, wet and on the verge of tears, and stretches toward him once more, but gives up. Her hand hovers for a moment, then drops limp at her side. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. But you need to sleep. You've been in her room alone for too long. Have you even talked to Sam or Tucker today?"

He meant to. He honestly did, having promised the day before to see them today. But when the time came, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He ignored their texts and calls

"Get some sleep. You'll feel better after, and then we can talk tomorrow, okay?" Jazz says.

Tomorrow. He has school tomorrow, doesn't he?

"Goodnight, Danny." But Jazz doesn't leave right away. She shuffles her feet, contemplating something. Before Danny can react, she pulls him into a hug and kisses his forehead. "I love you, little brother."

She lingers for another second, then slips by him and heads back to her room. It isn't until Danny hears the sound of her door closing that he realizes she was waiting for him to say it back. Guilt rushes through him, briefly. He could go say it now, but... he doesn't. He trudges toward his bed instead, pausing just before he reaches int. Turning his head, he peers over his shoulder. The corner is still empty. His gaze slides to the tall mirror beside his desk, leaning against the wall rather than hanging from it.

Slowly, and with shaking hands, he pulls up his hoodie to expose his lower back. There's no mark. It doesn't hurt anymore, either, stopping sometime while he was shouting at Jazz. He didn't even notice.

Danny shakes his head. "You're just seeing things. You're tired. It's been... rough." Valerie's bloody torso flashes through his mind. He hunches forward, a shudder running through his body. "Fuck." He grabs his head, tangled hair catching on his fingers. His scalp stings as his nails dig in, but he doesn't care.

Eventually, he lays down, too tired to hold himself upright. He still tries to fight against sleep's tempting hold, gripping his arms so tight it hurts, clinging to the pain to keep him awake. No matter what, he won't let himself fall asleep.

—

Shards of ice slice his tongue and lips as he breathes. In, out, they glide across his mouth until all he can taste is blood, the shards slowly shredding his throat. He tries to grip his chest but finds a gaping wound instead, wider than his fist. Inside, his heart thumps weakly. One of his lungs, ripped open and slowly filling with blood, sags through the hole. Blood and gore spill down his chest, staining the snow all around him. All at once, he's drowning and bleeding out. Which one will kill him first? He doesn't know.

The lonely spire looms ahead of him, Valerie still trapped inside. She's wearing his jumpsuit. Looking down, Danny sees he's wearing hers. Or maybe he's Valerie, and Danny is the one caught in the ice. Drowning, bleeding, freezing to death.

"Why didn't you save me?" Valerie asks the reflection.

He gurgles in response. Unable to move, he watches, helpless, as his heart stops beating.

—

Danny jerks upright so fast that he tumbles out of bed, smacking his face on the hardwood floor. He barely registers the pain, too busy pressing his hands to his chest. The panic doesn't fade until he feels his pounding heart, strong and steady. There's no hole in his chest, no blood in his lungs. He swallows, pressing a hand against his mouth.

It was just a dream. He fell asleep on accident, that's all. He's fine. He's not hurt. There's no blood. Right as he finishes that thought, he notices the scarlet splatter on his floor.

Danny's stomach lurches. Scrambling to his feet, he rushes to the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He barely makes it to the toilet before his stomach heaves, acid burning his throat as it makes its way up. There's nothing in his stomach to throw up, but that doesn't stop the heaves from coming, dry wretches tearing at his throat. Nearly a minute passes before Danny finally stops, able to catch his breath at last. Blood and bile swirl in the water and the sight of it almost has him throwing up again. He looks away from the bowl and scoots back to the wall, unable to take the smell, but unable to stand. His legs tremble too hard.

Shaking fingers rise to his mouth and touch his lips. No ice. No cuts. The only taste on his tongue is vomit. Danny swallows, and the motion makes his nose ache. Wincing, he raises his hand a little higher. His nose is bleeding, not his mouth. He swallows again and rubs his nose on his arm, leaving a bright red streak behind.

Danny can't bear to look at it. He's used to blood, especially his own after fighting for so many years. But right now it makes his stomach churn. It makes him think of that fight, of Valerie and watching her fall. He swallows again and breathes, heavy, through his mouth. His nose feels stuffed and warm, and it's definitely still bleeding. Rather than taking care of it right away, he closes his eyes and shudders. It happened so fast. He barely had time to move, much less to try and catch her. By the time he realized what was happening, it was already too late. He saw her body plummeting, and then...

Phantom blood sprays across Danny's face, hot and thick. He jerks back, thumping his head against the wall. His cheeks grow warm. Blood drips from his nose onto his lips, and the taste of copper fills his mouth. Valerie's blood is everywhere. On the ground, on him. Soaking into his gloves and staining his face. Danny wheezes, struggling to take in air. His chest heaves, and he can feel his body going through the motions, but it's like the air disappears somewhere between his mouth and his lungs. No matter how much he gasps and gulps, it's never enough. His lungs burn. His head aches. The bathroom tiles are slick and red, and the whole room tilts around him.

Fighting back a sob, Danny crawls forward. He grabs the counter and drags himself up. His legs, quivering, barely hold him, but it's enough. He fumbles with the sink tap, twisting it hard and nearly yanking it off the faucet. Over and over, he splashes water across his face. Scrubbing around his nose hurts, but he keeps going, rubbing furiously to get rid of all the blood. He doesn't stop until the water, on the coldest setting, makes him shiver. By then, the front of his shirt is soaked, and his hair is dripping wet.

Leaning over the sink, Danny takes a moment to breathe. It comes easier now, the air finally reaching where it's supposed to go, although his face still hurts. After a moment, he looks up at his reflection. His nose is a little red, but there's no more blood on his face.

Danny's cheeks flush. It was never Valerie's blood, just his own. He feels ridiculous, embarrassed, for getting so panicked over a bloody nose. Shifting his gaze to the floor, he sees only a few small spots on the tiles, not the seeping puddle that plagued his imagination.

"You're being stupid, Fenton," Danny says. "And now you're talking to yourself. Like an idiot."

He washes his face one more time, using warmer water and less frantic movements, as if that erases the panic he felt moments ago. Cleaning up his mess doesn't take long. Wipe away the spots on the floor with a few squares of toilet paper; toss that in the toilet and flush it away, along with the vomit. A quick swipe with the hand towel takes care of the water on the counter. He squeezes out his hair and strips off his shirt, too, bundling it up in the towel, and chucks both in the hamper. He's too exhausted to clean the blood out of it now, especially with the prospect of school looming over him. Maybe he'll get to it later. Or, worse comes to worst, he can just throw it away if the blood won't come out.

Before leaving the bathroom, he presses his ear to the door, listening for movement outside. He can't hear his parents. Chances are they already left, out for ghostly blood in the pre-dawn hours. It doesn't sound like Jazz is home, either. It is Monday, and she likes to leave early for college, spending the whole day on campus to focus on her work.

Holding his breath, he eases the door open and peers into the hall. Empty. He almost smiles, thankful no one was home to hear his breakdown, and shoves the door open the rest of the way.

Jazz stands on the other side of it, arms crossed. "Danny. We need to talk."

He grimaces. "Do we?"

"I could hear." She gives the bathroom a pointed look, a flash of guilt passing over her face; it's gone soon enough, almost too fast for Danny to catch it. "Whatever you're doing to yourself, you can't keep doing it. Hiding away and keeping everything locked up won't help.

Danny opens his mouth, then closes it. What do you say to someone who heard something so private when you didn't want them to? "You were listening?" Immediately, he decides that was the wrong thing to say. As soon as the words leave his lips, Jazz's shoulders sag and she gives him a pitying smile. He should have played dumb.

"It's okay to cry. You saw something terrible, and you're hurting. I'd be more worried if you didn't cry. But don't think I forgot what happened last night. You're allowed to be alone, of course, but shutting everyone out isn't healthy. Especially not if you're... seeing Valerie." She wrings her hands, a familiar nervous habit. She does it every time she's about to launch into one of her psycho-babble spiels and isn't sure if it's welcome or not. Well, it isn't.

Danny's eyes narrow. "Unhealthy?"

"Personal space is good, but total solitude after a traumatic experience can be damaging. I don't want you to be alone."

"Unhealthy?" he repeats. "I think ki– I think watching Val-Val-Valerie." He swallows down the stutter, cursing how much his body still shakes. His mind, a jumbled mess, can barely string two words together, much less deal with Jazz right now. "I think that watching Valerie fall. To her death. Is unhealthy. You know? I think that's a little fucked up, don't you?"

Jazz steps closer, reaching out, but seems to think better about it a second later, drawing her hands back. "Danny, just listen to yourself. If you need time, that's okay, but don't forget that I'm here for you."

"It hasn't even been two days!"

Jazz flinches away from his shout.

"I'll be fine." Danny lowers his voice but keeps the hard edge in his tone. "Just let me deal with it however I want to. If I want to talk, I'll talk to you, okay?"

"Danny, don't be like this."

"You're gonna be late for class, Jazz. And so am I." Danny turns away from her. "I have to go get ready."

She steps after him, but Danny doesn't turn back, shutting his bedroom door and locking it behind him. He hears Jazz make a distressed noise, halfway between a whine and a groan. After a moment, she thumps down the stairs. The front door doesn't open, meaning she's still in the house, but Danny will take what he can get. If he leaves quick enough, it won't matter.

He dresses fast, replacing his sweatpants with a pair of jeans, but keeps his hoodie on. He hasn't taken that off for three days, now, but it smells fine to him. And it's dark enough that you can't see the blood from his nose.

Danny scrubs his eyes. He may have preferred not sleeping at all, but he can't deny that he needed rest. Although, he at least would have liked to choose to sleep. Last, he remembers from the night before, he had no intentions of falling asleep. Danny frowns. Why didn't he want to sleep? Besides the obvious nightmares. Wasn't there another reason?

He runs his hand over his upper arm, gently brushes the bruises there, struggling to remember why he did it in the first place. He presses one of the purpling spots, wincing at the way it throbs, then freezes. The shadow.

Danny's head snaps up and he zeroes in on the corner of his room. It's empty. Cepheus' constellation meets his gaze unbroken. In an instant, he wilts with relief, shoulders slumping and head dipping down. He must have imagined the whole thing, exhausted as he was. Thank god. Now is not a good time for strange shadows in his room.

He gladly shoves the entire debacle into the back of his mind and rushes out of the house before Jazz can catch him again.

—

Danny miscalculated. Avoiding Jazz is easy, thanks to school. Not that he wants to go in the first place, but he can't afford to skip, and there's no way Jazz would protest against him going, not with his bad grades. So, school doesn't have Jazz. But school does have Sam and Tucker, who Danny has been ignoring.

Peeking at his phone, Danny winces at the overwhelming amount of missed calls and unanswered texts. He feels guilty for not answering them, but... he didn't want to. He just wanted to sit in his dark room and forget. Even now, that's all he wants. If it weren't for Jazz and his already disappointing attendance record, he would still be at Fenton Works, curled up on his bed. Which probably isn't good. His sister is a psych major, he knows harmful behaviour when he sees it. Primarily because Jazz points his harmful behaviours out all the time. You throw yourself into danger too much. You're stretching yourself too thin. You need to take a break.

He sneers at the sidewalk. Right. A break. Because that would have kept Valerie alive. Not that Danny's presence did anything to save her, either. He bites the inside of his cheek, not hard enough to draw blood—he doesn't want that taste back in his mouth for a long time—but enough to be distracting, cutting off that thought before it can go any further.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Valerie's gone and that's it. There's nothing more to it. She's gone and she's not coming back. For someone who fights ghosts, literal dead people, on a near-daily basis, you would think Danny could handle death better than this. He knows most of his enemies were once living, breathing people who died in tragic ways. Danny was once a living, breathing person who died in a tragic way. He just skipped out on the "stop breathing" part of things.

He faces mortality every day, every time he goes ghost. So why can't he face this? Why is this any different than any other day?

Because it was his friend, and he saw it, and he couldn't stop it. Because it was his fault.

Danny cups his mouth and chokes on a sob. He doesn't want to do this here, in the middle of the street. Or at all, if he could just not. But apparently, the rest of him thinks this a great time to breakdown, because the tears come unbidden, spilling over his cheeks. Ducking his head, he hurries forward. The faster he gets to school, the faster he can lock himself in the bathroom, or the janitor's closet, or anywhere without prying eyes.

The tears blur his vision, turning his feet into red smudges against the grey sidewalk. He doesn't dare lift his head, just in case anyone sees him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to watch where he's going to make his way to school. After four years, the route from Fenton Works to Casper High is firmly etched into his brain

Danny wipes some of the tears away with his sleeve when he reaches the school grounds, pausing to compose himself as much as he can. After a few deep breaths and swallowed sobs, he feels well enough to storm the student body. With any luck, he can hold himself together long enough to make it to the bathroom.

Before he can step from the sidewalk onto the schoolyard, someone grabs Danny and pulls him aside. Stunned, it takes him a moment to realize what has happened, even as Tucker's arms wrap tightly around him.

"Dude, we've been so worried." Tucker squeezes Danny tighter. His voice is thick and watery. "Jazz said you wouldn't come out of your room, and you wouldn't answer our texts. Just– god, it must have been so awful. Man, I can't imagine."

Finally, Danny registers what's happening. Tucker's hugging him, and crying into his shoulder. This is bad. Tucker shouldn't be doing that. Tucker is... Tucker is good, and Danny did something horrible. Tucker shouldn't be comforting him.

"I–" Danny falters. Inside, he's screaming. Say it. Say it's your fault. Make him hate you. You deserve it. "Tuck, you–"

He can't say it. Instead, Danny reaches up, grabbing Tucker's arms, and carefully pulls them off his shoulders. He steps back, squeezing Tucker's wrists once, before letting go and looking away.

"I'm okay. You, I know you liked her. And she was our friend. How are you?" Danny asks.

"Dude. You liked her too, and you were actually there. You're not okay."

Danny bites his lip, unsure how to respond to that. It's true, but he deserves this. Tucker doesn't. "But you–"

"Guys!" Sam—when did she even get there?—cuts him off. "Just be sad together, okay?"

Danny glances at her, then away, then back again, shocked. Her eyes are red. In all the years they've known each other, he can't remember ever seeing Sam cry, even when she broke her ankle fighting Technus that one time. The most she did then was swear up a storm before punching the ghost barehanded. It didn't exactly do much to Technus, but Sam looked damn proud of herself afterward.

Right now, she looks downright distraught. Danny wonders how many of her tears were for him, and how many were for Valerie. They may not have gotten along a lot of the time, but they were still friends. He hopes she cried for Valerie more, although he'd rather she not cry at all. He doesn't know what to do when a girl cries

"But," Sam shares a glance with Tucker, one Danny doesn't like, "seriously, Danny. Are you okay? We heard how it went down."

Danny pales. Did they know? How? By the time anyone else arrived, he already had Valerie in his lap, her skin cold as ice.

"It was Spectra and Bertrand, right?" Tucker says. "They said that one of them... well, they..." He motions vaguely around his torso.

"Tucker!" Sam slaps his hands down.

Danny looks away again, hiding the relieved look on his face. They don't know. Guilt and shame quickly wash the relief away. He should tell them. Or Valerie's dad. Danny rubs his eyes, a new tension pressing down on him. He hadn't even thought of Valerie's dad.

Did Marty the Cop call him? He must have, after Danny left. By then, Mr. Gray may have already seen the news. God, that must have been horrible, turning on the TV to see Lance Thunder reporting his daughter's death before he even knew about it. Although Sam and Tucker hadn't known until the day after. Maybe Mr. Gray remained ignorant, too, until Marty could break the news gently. He hopes so.

"Danny?" Tucker reaches out and touches Danny's shoulder.

Danny steps away. For a moment, he's glad he's not looking Tucker's way. He doesn't want to see the hurt expression on his best friend's face.

"I'm okay," Danny says because he doesn't know what else to say.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head, perhaps a little too aggressively.

"It might help," Tucker presses. "Doesn't Jazz say–"

"Fuck what Jazz says."

Tucker and Sam recoil at the harsh words. Danny feels another stab of guilt but doesn't apologize. It's only been three days and he's already such a mess. The thing in his room yesterday, the nightmare, his panic attack in the bathroom this morning. That’s what it was, wasn't it? A panic attack? He's had them before, but not like that. Usually, he feels empty and distant, like there's a gaping hole growing inside him, slowly swallowing him up. This time, Valerie's the one with the hole in her chest, and it's left Danny a shaking mess.

"You don't have to tell us anything," Sam says. Her tone is soft and understanding, as if she understands any part of what Danny's going through. "But if you ever want to talk about it, we're here for you."

"I don't," Danny says. "I can't. Just drop it, please?"

Sam and Tucker share another look, just as bad as the last, but say no more. A small mercy in Danny's eyes. He gives them an hour at most before they bring it up again, and that's being generous.

"Okay. But I'm sorry we weren't there," Tucker says.

An hour was very generous.

"It doesn't matter now. It's better you weren't there." Danny runs a hand through his hair, only able to meet Tucker's sad stare for a moment. He still wishes he had made it into the school before Sam and Tucker found him, but their little confrontation drove back his tears, at least. Now, he can't quite figure out what he's feeling. Sad? Yes. Guilty? Always. A little angry, too, but he doesn't know why. His friends haven't done anything bad.

A sourness fills Danny's mouth, making his lips pucker. Bitter feelings squirm through him, like a worm eating its way through an apple. He can't control it, but he's constantly aware of its wriggling presence. Talk about being a bad apple.

"Class is gonna start soon. Let's just go inside." Danny turns his back on them and sets off, ignoring the sting behind his eyes. The faster this day gets over with, the better. Then again, he's not looking forward to sleep tonight. He should go for a long flight instead, or maybe dip into the Ghost Zone to visit his allies, as few as they are. Anything to keep him from having more nightmares.

Danny keeps his head ducked as they walk. Sam and Tucker fall into step beside him, their elbows brushing his from time to time. He doesn't pull away, but only because the hallway is cramped and there's nowhere for him to pull away to. Eager to escape the crush of teenage bodies, he heads straight for Lancer's classroom, skipping a visit to his locker even though there are books inside that he needs. His only plans for class today are to duck his head and get through it without any more crying, and books won't help with that.

Sam and Tucker stick with him, much to his disappointment. He hoped they would break away and stop at their lockers, giving him a short reprieve from their presence. Unfortunately for him, they seem content without their books for now, or they already grabbed them before Danny arrived. The last thought doesn't sit well with him. It means they were lying in wait outside the school for his arrival. While he knows they worry about him, he doesn't enjoy falling into traps, no matter how emotionally supportive they're meant to be.

The halls are still full, thrumming with chatter, by the time they reach Lancer's classroom. It will be a good few minutes before the warning bell rings, so most students haven't bothered moving away from their lockers, instead gathering in tight-knit groups. Before stepping into the classroom, Danny pauses, lifting his hand, and gives the hall a once over. He's not surprised by what he sees. Curious, pitying eyes staring at him. Hands cupped around mouths, carrying whispers between friends. Valerie's name floats in the air.

"Did you hear–"

"–found her–"

"Totally gutted."

"–the Red Huntress all along."

Danny looks away all too quickly, their stares too heavy for him, and hurries into the shelter of Lancer's classroom.

Lancer looks up when they enter, his eyes widening in surprise. "Mr. Fenton?" His chair squeals when he pushes away from his desk too quickly.

"Yeah?" Danny shuffles his feet. Lancer has this way of looking at Danny like he knows much more than he should. It sets him on edge on the best days. Right now, it makes Danny's heart pound, each thump beating out a damning he-knows, he-knows, he-knows.

"You're here?"

"Uh..." Danny glances at the clock. "I know I'm earlier than usual."

"No, no, I mean." Lancer shakes his head. "Are you...?" He looks between Sam and Tucker. "May I speak to Mr. Fenton alone?"

Danny hopes his nod doesn't look as eager as it feels.

Lancer waits until Sam and Tucker leave, closing the door behind them, before turning to Danny.

"Daniel," he starts, then hesitates, which is never a good sign. "How are you?"

Danny opens his mouth, the words I'm fine already resting on his tongue. At the last moment, he pauses. Lancer looks concerned, yes, with his furrowed brows and tight frown, but it's different from how everyone else has looked at him. Not like Jazz trying to tell him how feels and what he should do. Not like Sam and Tucker pretending they understand when they don't. A far cry from his parents, who have barely spent two minutes with him since it happened.

Lancer doesn't elaborate, doesn't try to placate him. Doesn't offer shallow words of comfort. He simply asks.

"I–I'm, I'm not okay," Danny says.

Lancer nods as if he expected this. He probably did. "I saw on the news that you found her. You went through something traumatic, and I can't begin to understand that. Am I right to assume you aren't ready to talk about it?"

Words fail him, his tongue weighed down by relief. He nods vigorously instead.

"I thought as much. With that in mind, no one would fault you for not coming to school today."

Danny's mind goes blank. He stares at Lancer, blinking owlishly, as confusion fills his gaze.

"Your mental health is more important than school," Lancer goes on when Danny doesn't say anything. "I can speak to the other faculty members about your absence. And if you want to take a few more days, you can have your parents call the school. I'll make sure this doesn’t affect your grades."

Grades are the last thing on Danny's mind right now. "I can really do that?"

"After the Storm, Mr. Fenton, of course you can." Lancer sounds as surprised as Danny feels. "Mental health days are important. I've spoken to your parents about them a few times at parent-teacher conferences. Have they never mentioned it?"

"No."

Lancer frowns. "Well. You know about them now."

Danny stares down at his feet, amazed. He can just... not come to school if he isn't feeling well? And not just because he's injured or sick? And Mr. Lancer is encouraging it? Danny looks over his shoulder, catching Sam and Tucker spying through the classroom window. They offer him shaky smiles and hesitant waves.

Danny turns back to Lancer. "I really don't have to be at school today? Or tomorrow?"

"Or even the week. Not if you aren't ready for it. Some people might tell you otherwise, but as your vice principal, I fully endorse taking time off after such an experience. Should I tell the other teachers you'll be absent today?"

"Yes! Please, yes. I can't be here right now. It's... too much." Surprisingly, admitting that doesn't make Danny feel weak.

"Would you like me to call your parents to pick you up?"

"Mr. Lancer, I'm eighteen. I don't need my parents to pick me up."

"Whether you're eighteen or eight-hundred, it helps to have someone with you when you're dealing with something like this. Seeing as Jasmine should be in class, and both your friends are here, I think your parents suffice."

"Jazz is at home, actually," Danny says, leaping at the excuse. "No class today. Her professor is out. I'd rather walk home, but she'll be there, so it's okay."

Lancer purses his lips, then nods. "Alright, I'll let everyone know. Please take care of yourself, Daniel."

"Thank you, Mr. Lancer, I will." Danny rushes out of the classroom, eager to leave the school grounds before the bell rings. He brushes past Sam and Tucker on his way out.

"Hey, Danny, wait!" Tucker calls after him.

Danny doesn't want to stop, but he also doesn't want to be an ass, so he slows down instead, letting Tucker catch up. Sam stays back by Lancer's door.

"Where are you going?" Tucker asks as he falls into step with Danny.

"Home. Lancer said I could take a mental health day."

"Oh." Tucker falters. Danny doesn't wait for him, forcing Tucker to jog to catch up again. "Do you need one?"

Danny glares at him.

"Sorry, that was. Right. Yeah. Of course." Tucker flushes. "I mean, you said you were okay, and I want to believe you dude, but if you need a mental health day... Well, you know."

"Tucker." Danny finally stops, only inches from the front door. "Can you do something for me?"

"Yeah?" Tucker smiles.

"Leave me alone. No offence, but I need to be alone right now. It's hard."

Tucker's smile shatters. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure thing, man. I get it. Just don't take too long, okay? I'm worried."

Danny smiles, eyes empty and mouth wide. "Everyone is." With those final words, he leaves the school, and Tucker, behind.

—

Instead of going home, Danny wanders. He has no particular destination in mind, only knows he doesn't want to go home yet. Something is refreshing about walking aimlessly through Amity Park. By now, he's more used to seeing the streets from above rather than ground level. Everything looks familiar, but a little off from what he knows.

It reminds him of fourth grade when he missed the bus one day and his dad had to drive him to school. They took the most direct route, complete with hairpin turns and broken speed limits, arriving at the school well before Danny's bus did. But for Danny, the strangest thing about that day was seeing the school from a different angle.

Normally, the bus drove along the main street in front of the school, pulling into the drop-off zone by the doors. Jack drove Danny around the back, skirting around the soccer field, and pulled up alongside the school around the corner from the drop-off. That side of the school, facing the side street, was opposite the playground. As a fourth-grader, Danny had no reason to go to this side of the school. He almost didn't recognize the building when his dad pulled up, distracted by the unfamiliar windows and the narrow wedge of grass between the wall and the sidewalk.

Seeing Amity Park from the ground makes Danny think of that day. Everything is recognizable, but foreign at the same time. Outside ghost hunting, he doesn't have a reason to explore most of the city besides his usual haunts. Trying to navigate the familiar streets from an unfamiliar angle provides a welcoming distraction as he searches for landmarks he knows. Antennas on rooftops, billboards looming overhead, cornices encasing the highest floors.

Danny is eying a fresco on top of a stout three-storey building, unsure if he's seen it before or not, when his ghost sense goes off. The shiver seizes him for a moment, and he has to push down a wave of panic. He’s not sleeping, it's just a ghost. There's no reason to panic. He berates himself for being scared of something less tangible than the freaking Box Ghost. A simple nightmare is far from the scariest thing he's seen over the years; but, for some reason, it affects him in a way no ghost ever has.

Danny shakes his head. The ghost. Focus on the actual threat. A quick scan of the street to make sure no one's watching, then he dives into the closest alley, ducking behind a dumpster. Not the most glamourous place to transform, but it works.

"Going ghost!" he calls, pumping himself up. The transformation rings spark around his waist, quickly growing to their full size, and split apart with a sizzling hiss. His jumpsuit overtakes his everyday clothes as the rings spread. The rings rise above his shoulders, passing over his raised fists. Bloodstained gloves appear on his hands.

The world goes grey around him, his vision tunnelling. Danny gapes at his gloves. Blood. Valerie's blood. It's everywhere. On his gloves, his chest, his face. Seeping across the ice. Danny drops to his knees, gripping his head as the alley fades around him. Spears of ice circle him. Valerie's body lies in front of him, twitching. Blood bubbles from her mouth as she struggles to breathe, a futile effort thanks to the hole in her lungs.

Danny tries to staunch the flow, so panicked he drops his transformation, but it's not helping. The wound stretches wider than his palms. He presses too hard, his hands slipping in the blood. His palm touches something firm but it’s neither flesh nor bone. It thumps. Danny jerks back, yanking his hand out of Valerie's wound.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he cries. His tears are lost in her blood. He never knew people had so much blood in them, but now it's everywhere, and all Danny sees is red.

He meets her dull gaze, watches her eyes fluttering. Valerie's lips move, but no sound comes out, barely even the wheeze of air. Blood bubbles at the corner of her lips. She chokes and bleeds out all at once, and Danny can't do anything but hold her.

—

Hunched over on the asphalt, Danny hacks and coughs, clutching his stomach as bile dribbles from his lips. Valerie is gone, was never there in the first place. He lets out a soft cry of pain, all thoughts of the ghost abandoned. This is all so wrong. Things were never supposed to turn out this way, and now, Danny can't even transform without panicking.

"Valerie." Danny's voice cracks as he sobs into the pavement, the rough ground pressing against his forehead. The alley reeks of garbage and vomit. His whole body hurts. It feels like he's being torn apart inside, and that's still only half the pain Valerie must have felt. She deserved so much better.

Distantly, Danny hears the wail of the Fenton RV, the sound of the rumbling engine filling up every crack and crevice of the street. His mother's voice echoes over the loudspeaker. "You ectoplasmic evil-doer! Suffer for what you did to that poor girl!"

A voice in Danny's mind hisses, I am.

He rolls onto his side, unable to stay hunched over his own sick puddle, but too weak to do anything more. A traitorous part of him thinks maybe he should have talked to Jazz after all, but a louder, more insistent part screams no. She can never know what he did. None of them can. They should hate him, but he can never tell them why. He couldn't live with himself if they knew. He can barely live with himself now.

Danny listens to his mother scream at the ghost, silently hoping that, whoever it is, they escape his parents' clutches safe and sound. He hears the boom of the Fenton bazooka, but no cries of victory or shouts of pain. Small mercies.

A shiver runs through him. Something black flickers in the corner of his vision. Danny thinks he's about to fall unconscious, familiar with the dark spots that often precede it. The flickering doesn't stop.

Danny's breath catches in his throat. Achingly slow, he turns his head to the mouth of the alley. The shadow hovers there, and it's slowly drifting closer. Danny tries to scramble back, but his trembling arms can't hold his weight. His shivers grow stronger, making his teeth chatter and his fingers go numb. He hugs himself, fighting back the chill as the shadow approaches, but it forces its way through him. A puff of glowing blue hair leaves his mouth.

"Oh, wow! The ghost boy, cowering before the power of corrugated cardboard vengeance!"

Danny starts and twists toward the intruder. The Box Ghost—of course it's the Box Ghost—is poking his head out of the wall, smiling gleefully down at Danny. He comes through all the way, revealing the Fenton RV's overhead speaker in his arms. At least that explains where his mother's voice has gone.

"That's not cardboard. And it's barely square," Danny wheezes. His gaze flickers back to the alley's entranceway. The shadow is gone.

"Well, it's mine now and you can't have it back." The Box Ghost sticks out his tongue and raises the speaker above his head. But rather than chucking it at Danny, he sets it on his shoulder and floats closer. A strange look crosses his face, one Danny can't immediately decipher. The Box Ghost's brow pinches and his eyes narrow, lips pressed into a firm line.

He's being serious, Danny realizes.

"Something awful happened, didn't it?" the Box Ghost asks.

"What?"

"Only something great and terrible could bring down the sworn enemy of me, the Box Ghost!" He lowers his voice to a more conversational volume. "And not everyone gets haunted by such twisted shadows."

Danny snorts. "That's awfully philosophic coming from you. I'm surprised you didn't squeeze a portent about the glory of boxes in there."

The Box Ghost simply frowns. "You are a strange child. I hope your shadow leaves soon so I may battle you again, at full strength! As all rivals do!"

"Wait, what?" Danny sits up. "What do you mean?"

"Farewell, weirdo!"

"Wait!" Danny shouts, but the Box Ghost is already gone. Danny stares after him, bewildered. "It's real?" The empty alley provides no answer. Danny draws his knees in close and cranes his neck, inspecting the alley. Nothing stands out. No shadows where they shouldn't be. No hidden wraiths. But the Box Ghost's words nag at him. The shadow is real after all.

One sighting he can brush off as exhaustion. Two he can blame on the mental stress. But the Box Ghost knowing it's there without seeing it? He couldn't ignore that. Maybe only real ghosts could see it, see her. She could be anywhere, and Danny wouldn't know.

He scrambles to his feet and backs against the wall. The back of his neck prickles, but he can't tell if it's real or his mind playing tricks over him, tripped into overdrive by his panic attack and the Box Ghost's unsettling words. As he scans the alley once more, something shifts in the corner of his eye. Danny peels away from the wall, jumping into a ready pose, fists raised, feet apart, fully prepared to fight.

A plastic bag. A plastic bag stuck under the dumpster, fluttering quietly in the rank alley breeze. Danny flushes and lowers his fist. If a damn grocery bag is enough to set him on edge, then he's really losing it. It's not even noon yet, but he thinks he's had enough of his walk for today. Getting some real sleep might do him some good, nightmares be damned. Or he could raid the medicine cabinet for some sleeping pills when he gets home. There might be some leftover from his dad's last prescription.

Plan set, Danny shuffles out of the alley. He barely makes it three steps along the sidewalk before the Fenton RV comes ripping around the corner. A tangle of sparking wires rests over the windshield, marking where the speaker had sat before the Box Ghost tore it out. Maddie stands on the roof, defying all laws of physics as she stays firmly rooted despite how erratic Jack drives. A Fenton Bazooka rests on her shoulder, the barrel smoking.

"We might need to circle the block again, honey. I don't see it," she shouts down to Jack.

Danny ducks behind a nearby mailbox, hoping his parents don't see him, but it's futile. From her place on the RV, Maddie has a perfect view of the street. When she turns toward Danny, he catches the exact moment she sees him, her grip on the bazooka slackening. She stomps on the roof of the RV, then braces herself as Jack slams on the brakes.

Maddie pulls her goggles down. "Danny, sweetie, what are you doing here? Don't you have school?"

"Uh, I, I'm," Danny stutters. It's the first time he's seen his parents since the police station. They look the same as ever, which he should have expected, but somehow, he thought they would be different the next time he saw them. Glaring at him from the bad end of a bazooka, perhaps. But instead of raising the gun and pointing it at him, Maddie sets the bazooka down and hops off the RV.

Danny doesn't want to tell the truth. Right now, Maddie and Jack are acting the same as they always do, and he didn't realize how much he needed that until now. When he looks at them, he sees the familiar level of parental concern they always bear, which is minimal at best. Thinking about it, that's pretty terrible, isn't it? He watched one of his friends die, and instead of staying at home and comforting him, his parents are out hunting ghosts.

Danny wavers between anger and appreciation. His parents aren't bad, but they aren't good either, are they? He doesn't want them pestering him like everyone else is, but maybe he would at least like them to try. To act as if they care. He knows they do, they do, and it's stupid being mad about something he wants, but he's mad anyway.

Maybe it's Valerie's ghost, or the two panic attacks in one day, but something makes Danny glare up at his mom and say, "Well, I've been a little fucked up since I got Valerie killed, so I decided not to go to school." Acid fills the words as he spits them out, begging for a reaction. He gets one, but not the one he wants.

Maddie steps closer and wraps her arms around Danny. "Oh, sweetie, you should have told us. Does the school know? Do we need to call them?"

Danny squirms out of his mother's grasp. "What?"

"Would helping us catch the ghost that did this make you feel better? Your father and I have been looking ever since we heard," she continues.

"Did you even hear what I said?"

"I know. We should have brought you with us from the start, but we thought you might want some time alone first. She was such a nice girl."

"Mom. I swore. I skipped school. Valerie's dead because of me!"

Maddie drags him into another hug. "Oh, sweetie. I know it feels like that, doesn't it? But just because you couldn't save her, that doesn't mean it's your fault. You were with her at the end, and that must have meant so much to her."

This time, Danny doesn't pull away, too stunned to think of moving. She should be shouting at him, scolding him, not coddling him like some kid. How can she hear him say that and think he's exaggerating?

Jack leans out the RV window, smiling sadly at the pair. "Want us to drive you home, kiddo?"

Danny bites his tongue. Briefly, he considers turning down the offer, but his legs are shaking again, and his mom's hand running through his hair brings him back to sick days in elementary school when she would sit with him all day and watch cartoons. Danny melts, although his anger doesn't disappear; it slinks away to a dark cave, giving up on the fight for now.

"I want to go home," he says.

Maddie hums, shifting her hold from a hug to an arm over his shoulder, and guides him into the RV.

"It'll get better," Jack says.

Danny doesn't answer, curling up on the backseat with his arms around his knees. When he looks out the window, he spots a blurry form in the alley. As they pull away, Danny watches the shadow until it's out of sight. A question forms in his mind.

"Mom, how long does it take for a ghost to form?"

Maddie turns in her seat. "What brought this on?"

Eyes downcast, Danny shrugs.

Maddie hums in understanding. "Well, it depends. Not everyone that dies becomes a ghost. We've done some studies of how long it takes a spectral mass to reach conscious levels after first recording its presence. So far, it can take anywhere from a few seconds to up to a week."

"And until then?" Danny presses.

"We've only managed to properly record one spectre's creation process from beginning to end. But from our notes, they appear to take a lesser non-corporeal form that barely even registers on our instruments until they're strong enough to manifest. Until then, they can't do much. We barely even saw the ghost until it manifested." Maddie smiles at Danny, in a manner that she probably meant as reassuring, but just looks sorry to him. "I hope this helped."

"Yeah." Danny nods. "Yeah, it does."

—

Danny doesn't check for the shadow when he gets home. It might be there, but he doesn't care to check. He refuses to acknowledge it. Instead, he raids his parents' medicine cabinet, finds the sleeping pills, and takes two before collapsing on his bed.

—

Valerie glares at him from within her icy prison. Danny knows it's a dream this time, and he thinks it's a little uncreative of his subconscious to give him the same one three times in a row. He doesn't think sleeping pills can affect his dreams, but he feels calmer this time. Or maybe that's just because Valerie is doing what no one else will: hate him.

"I don't want to be a ghost," she says.

"You're not. You're just dead." Lies. All lies. He knows who the shadow is, just hopes he's wrong.

"How do you know?"

Danny looks down at his lap, unsure how to answer. Ghosts exist for a lot of reasons. Not all of them were once people and not every person who dies becomes a ghost. The ones who do usually have something they wanted to live for. Fame, desire, glory. Boxes. Some part of their mind chose to stay, clinging to that one thing they wanted and couldn't get.

"You would never choose this," he finally says. "You hate ghosts. There's nothing you could want that would make you stay."

Valerie sneers. Her teeth are stained red. "What could anyone want enough for this? Why would anyone choose this?"

"I did."

"No. You didn't want to die; there's a difference. I didn't want to die either. But you took that away from me, didn't you?" Valerie looks down at Danny's hands. Following her gaze, he sees her heart resting on his palm. It beats, barely. Blood seeps from the torn aortas and soaks into his gloves. Holding a heart doesn't feel like he thought it would. Whenever Danny thinks of organs, he thinks of softy, squishy tissue, easy to pierce and crush, but Valerie's heart is a firm bundle of muscle.

Danny squeezes.

Valerie gasps, her hand shooting up to her chest, but there's nothing there, only an empty hole. She slams her fist against the ice. "Give it back!"

Danny tries, he does. His whole body shakes with effort as he tries to push his hand forward, returning what's Valerie's, but his arm won't budge. His hand squeezes tighter.

Valerie gasps and falls forward, both hands to her chest now, scratching and scraping. Her fingers hook around the hole and tug, tearing it open wider. "Stop it! Give it back!" she cries.

"I can't, I'm sorry!" Danny grabs his defiant arm in his other hand and pushes, but the frozen limb barely shakes. "I didn't mean it, Valerie. You have to believe me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Ice creeps along Danny's arm, stretching over his fingers. Beautiful frost ferns grow across Valerie's heart, tinged pink from her blood. He tries to pull them back, shoving his core down deep inside himself where the snow and ice can't hurt anyone, but it's too late. The ice overtakes her heart. Danny's hand clenches one more time. The heart shatters.

Valerie screams. Her shriek pierces the air, shattering her prison of ice. Danny slaps his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise, but it rings inside his head, bouncing around his skull, stabbing his brain with a thousand tiny needles until blood leaks from his eyes, his nose, his ears. He screams with her, raw and hoarse until the shrieking stops and silence rings out.

—

Danny wakes up cold. Not even an hour has passed since he went to sleep. So much for the sleeping pills.

Despite wearing his warmest hoodie, he shivers. His foggy breath clouds the air in front of him, but it lacks the pale glow of his ghost sense. Instead, it's accompanied by a bone-deep chill that stings his teeth when he inhales.

In the corner of the room, the shadow hovers, darker than the previous night.

—

At sunrise, the shadow fades before Danny's eyes. It takes the pervasive cold with it, leaving him uncomfortably warm, swathed in a pile of blankets that hadn't helped fight off his chills. His eyes burn, but he has no desire to go back to sleep. Moving slowly, he climbs out of bed, stretching his cramped muscles. The blankets slide off his shoulders, leaving him in the same sweater and jeans as the previous day. The thought of changing doesn't even cross his mind.

Danny checks the back alley through his bedroom window and finds that his parents are home today. Other than mild surprise, it stirs no strong emotions in Danny.

A knock at his door pulls his attention from the alleyway. He drums his fingers on the windowsill, pursing his lips as he debates whether or not he should answer.

"Danny? Are you awake?" Jazz's voice is pitched with worry.

Sighing, Danny turns from the window, leaning back against the sill, and answers. "I'm awake."

The doorknob turns. Jazz pushes it open a crack, her bright blue eyes peering through the narrow opening. Danny jerks his head, not quite a nod, but a welcome, nonetheless. Jazz swings the door open and shuffles inside, nudging it closed behind her.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she says. "I shouldn't have pushed you." Danny remains silent as she takes a seat on his bed. She picks at the pile of blankets, eyeing the unruffled comforter beneath them. "Did you sleep last night?"

"I was in bed," he says.

Lips pursed, Jazz scrutinizes Danny's clothes. "You wore that yesterday, too."

"It's still clean."

"Danny. I don't want to cross any boundaries–"

"Then don't."

"–but it's only been a few days, and this is concerning behaviour. I'm not expecting you to instantly bounce back, but I'd hoped you would at least come and talk to me if it was this bad."

"Jazz. Do you know how often I don't sleep because of ghosts? This isn't that different. And so what if I'm wearing the same jeans? I only have, like, three pairs that aren't ripped or stained."

Jazz starts wringing her hands. "It can take weeks to accept a traumatic event. I don't want you to lose yourself denying what happened. It was horrible, but ignoring it won't change that. Talking will. You have me, and Tucker and Sam. Letting out what you're feeling to people you trust can help. And keeping a routine! It's important to stay grounded with regular habits. Things like not sleeping, not eating, wearing the same clothes over and over. They're signs of you slipping into negative behaviour."

"God, Jazz, you make it sound like I'm some kind of drug addict or something. You want me to talk? Fine! We were fighting Spectra, and Valerie fell off her board, and she got skewered like an ecto-weenie at a bonfire. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Jazz goes completely white. "Danny, no! That's not what I meant."

"Well, it's what you're getting. I'm going to school." He strides past her.

"You can't be serious!"

"See you later, Jazz." Danny slams the front door behind him.

—

He doesn't go to school. Lancer gave him a free pass to skip and he's going to milk that for all it's worth. It's not milking it when you actually need it, his thoughts whisper. Shut up, Danny hisses back.

With yesterday's events fresh on his mind, he doesn't want to go for a walk, either. He slinks around the side of the house and crouches beside the bushes, out of sight from the street and the front door. The dirt is dry and the bushes browning even though it's not even summer yet. Danny's parents might be great at inventing things, but they're shit at taking care of their yard. Not that Danny cares. The bushes provide just enough cover for him to see without being seen, and he only plans on sitting here for a couple of minutes, or however long it takes for Jazz to leave for school.

Danny turns his phone over in his hands. It buzzes a couple of times. Probably Jazz trying to shove more of her opinions down his throat. He debates the pros and cons of checking the messages now or later. Either way, he doesn't intend to answer, so it doesn't matter. Relenting, he flips his phone over and checks the notifications.

The message isn't from Jazz, and not Sam or Tucker either. It's from Valerie.

Danny's blood runs cold. It's not possible. She's dead. She's gone. But she's not.

| Val Is this Daniel Fenton? The contact says Space Boy

Danny blinks as he reads the actual message. He nearly laughs. Space Boy? That was his name on Valerie’s phone? He wipes his thumb across the corner of his eyes before opening his phone and typing out a brief yes.

| Val This is Valerie's father. I'd like to talk to you after school if possible

Danny ducks his head, tapping the phone against his chin. He thought about talking to Mr. Gray, but he hadn't been serious. Of all the people he could see right now, Damon Gray is at the bottom of the list. But it doesn't look like Jazz is leaving any time soon, and he doesn't want to sit in the flowerbed forever.

Before he can regret it, he texts Mr. Gray back.

| You I can talk now. I'm omw

—

The bus ride from Fenton Works to the Gray's apartment in Elmerton takes twenty minutes. Danny sits at the back and stares out the window the whole time. The landscape turns grey and dusty as they cross the river into Elmerton, malls and office buildings replaced by warehouses and empty lots.

The Gray's apartment building lies on the edge of the warehouse district. Despite Mr. Gray's job prospects steadily improving over time, they never moved out of the cramped apartment that carried them through their darkest days.

Mr. Gray answers the door before Danny can even knock.

Danny lowers his raised arm. "Um, hi."

Mr. Gray looks as bad as Danny expected. He hasn't shaved in a few days, and his eyes are dry and red. Danny thinks he must have been crying before he arrived

"Hello, Danny." Mr. Gray steps aside to let Danny in.

They move to the dining room, where Mr. Gray sits at the head of the table, and Danny takes the opposite chair.

"Did Marty tell you?" Danny asks, seeking some reassurance in all this madness.

"Who?"

"Never mind."

"You were there for her."

Danny clenches his teeth and nods. He knows what Mr. Gray is about to say and looks away before he does.

"Thank you."

Danny stiffens. This is so wrong. "You shouldn't."

"I'm sorry?"

"You shouldn't thank me."

"You don't understand. I let her put on the suit every day even though I knew it was dangerous. If I ever tried to stop her, I know she would have done it behind my back. But still. I should have stopped her. I let this happen."

"No!" Danny shouts. He jumps to his feet, slamming his hands on the table. "No, you didn't. No one could stop Valerie when she wanted something, and... and it's my fault. Not yours."

Mr. Gray shakes his head, rising from his seat. "Danny, you made sure my daughter wasn't alone at the end. They told me how she died. There was nothing you could have done to save her."

"Mr. Gray, I didn't just find her. I was there. I'm–" Danny squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm Danny Phantom."

Mr. Gray doesn't answer. The only thing Danny can hear is the ticking of the clock. Eventually, Danny opens his eyes. Mr. Gray stands frozen on the other side of the table, gaping at Danny.

"You..." he falters. "You're..."

"I can't... show you. I haven't been able to transform since, well, since. But I am," Danny says.

Mr. Gray drops back into his chair. He looks up at Danny, then down, then up again. "You?" He runs a hand over his head.

"Mr. Gray?" Danny asks.

"Hold on." Mr. Gray cups his hand over his mouth, muttering under his breath, too low for Danny to hear. His wide eyes dart back and forth across the table. It looks like his whole world is falling apart before his eyes.

With nothing else to do, Danny lowers himself back into his seat. He waits, patiently, for Mr. Gray to finish processing, looking about the apartment for some kind of distraction. Nothing much has changed since the last time Danny was here, nearly a year ago. There's a picture of Valerie and her mom hanging on the wall by the clock. Both of them are smiling widely. It should be a happy picture, but all Danny sees are ghosts that will haunt Mr. Gray forever.

"She really liked you. Did you know that?" Mr. Gray asks.

It takes some effort to tear his gaze from the photo, but Danny eventually looks back to Mr. Gray. "Yeah. I really liked her, too. For a while."

"She hated you, too."

Danny nods.

Mr. Gray sighs, sounding as exhausted as Danny feels. "Being Danny Phantom doesn't make any of this your fault. She might have started ghost hunting to get you, but it ended up meaning so much to her. I'm sure that, with or without you, she would have found her way to it somehow."

Danny bites his lip. He knows what he wants to say, but once he does, there's no going back. Over Mr. Gray's shoulder, he notices a dark spot in the living room, one that wasn't there before. Valerie.

"That's not all. Mr. Gray, there's something you need to know about how Valerie died."

—

An hour later, Danny steps out of the apartment. Mr. Gray closes the door behind him without a word. By now, they've said everything they need to. Danny slumps against the wall and inhales sharply through his nose. He holds it for a second, trying to keep himself together even as the shaking starts. He only manages for a few seconds before he breaks. The tears flow freely down his face as he gasps, sinking to his knees in the middle of the hall.

Rocking back and forth, he wails into the floor. He lets out every pent up emotion in his cries; frustration, anger, sadness, guilt. They fill him up, suffocate him, steal his air, then leave in ragged gasps. He cries until his throat hurts and his tears blind him. He cries until he has no more tears left to spill.

—

Danny calls Tucker that night, around midnight. They haven't spoken since Danny ditched school, and Tucker hasn't even sent him any texts or left any messages—although Sam had. It looks like he took Danny's request to leave him alone to heart. Danny refuses to feel guilty for it, but he also needs to talk to someone, and Tucker is always the first person he thinks of during these times.

Jazz was gone to class by the time Danny got back from Mr. Gray's, and he brushed her off when she got home earlier that evening. His parents, to Danny's complete lack of surprise, have gone back to being their usual negligent selves, putting ghost hunting before their mourning child.

Danny is constantly aware of Valerie now, finding her lurking around every corner, hovering at the edge of his vision, taunting him. He doesn't know what to do. So he calls Tucker.

"What would you do if I did something really bad?" Danny asks as soon as Tucker answers the phone.

"Hello, Danny."

"What would you do?"

Tucker sighs. "I thought you wanted me to leave you alone."

"Tucker. I'm being serious, come on."

Tucker remains silent. A day ago, it might not have bothered Danny at all, but now it makes him squirm. He needs to hear Tucker's answer.

"Okay. I'm sorry, happy?"

"No."

"Why not? I apologized."

"Because you're being a dick, Danny! You're not the only one who lost Valerie, okay? I thought you got that, but I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry I couldn't be there, and I'm sorry you had to see that, but I'm hurting too. I have no idea what's going on with you right now, but going through something shitty doesn't give you a free pass to be an asshole." Tucker's voice cracks.

Guilt twists Danny's gut. In seconds, Tucker might start crying, and it will be all his fault. But he needs to know.

"Valerie is haunting me," Danny says.

"What?"

"I've been having nightmares, and ever since she died, there's been this shadow in my room. I thought it was all in my head, but then I ran into the Box Ghost yesterday, and he mentioned something about a shadow? I asked my parents and they saw a ghost form like that once."

The line stays silent. It stretches on so long Danny thinks Tucker might have hung up, until he hears a shaky sigh.

"Are you sure?"

Danny glances at the shadow. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Is it a ghost?"

"I don't know. I thought I was just seeing things, but then the Box Ghost, and what my mom said. I'm just, I'm stressed, man. Sleeping's hard, and it makes my ghost sense all weird."

"Weird how?"

"Like," Danny kneads his chest, grimacing, "like there's a block of ice in my chest. It's heavy and cold."

"Are you sure you aren't just... sad? And tired? I want to believe you, man, but Valerie as a ghost? And you just said you're not sleeping. Remember that one time you didn't sleep for, like, four days and you started seeing things?" Tucker dips into a whisper. "Are you sure you just don't want her to be gone?"

"Tucker, listen to me. I know I'm not seeing things. I'm looking at it right now! And the Box ghost said–."

"The Box Ghost says he'll rule the world with cardboard. Look, dude. I want to believe you, but you're not okay, man."

Danny scowls. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"So you're not denying it?"

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"Are you going to apologize?"

Danny doesn't answer.

"We just lost Valerie, man. Don't do this to us."

Danny closes his eyes as Tucker starts crying. He doesn't wail like Valerie did in Danny's nightmares, or gasp and sob like Danny so many times over the past couple of days. Tucker cries quietly, his voice wobbly, breaths short. He cries like he doesn't want anyone to see.

"I shouldn't have called."

"Dude, no. Wait. I'm sorry."

"I just made you sad. And it's not helping. I should just– never mind. I'm sorry, Tuck. I'm so sorry."

"No, you didn't do anything. I'm just sad, man. Of course, I am. But god, you. You were actually there. You’re allowed– okay, you're not allowed to be a dick, but I shouldn't be a dick either. If you just talked to us–"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You should."

"It's fine."

"It's not. Dude, it's not okay."

"Can you just fucking drop it? Whatever, it doesn't matter. Sorry I called. I'll just deal with this on my own."

"Danny, I'm sorry. Please don't–"

Danny hangs up and tosses his phone onto the bed. Calling Tucker was a mistake. It accomplished nothing, except making Tucker mad, and cry. Danny squeezes his eyes shut, lowering his head as his throat tightens. He's so tired of crying. It's a miracle he hasn't dehydrated by now. At some point, he has to run out of tears, right? No one can cry forever. Jazz always says crying makes you feel better, once you're done feeling terrible.

He almost felt good after visiting Mr. Gray. But it didn't take long for the dark feelings to return after he left. Now, he just feels worse and worse each time.

Tipping onto his side, he buries his face in his comforter and gasps. It hurts, tears at his throats, makes the cold in his chest swell and fill his lungs. "Valerie. I'm sorry."

The room grows colder.

—

"I saw your dad." It's the first thing Danny says when he finds himself before the spire again. The snow glistens pure and wide. The ice shines untouched by blood. Valerie's so close to him now, like she's on the other side of a window. The ice warps her image, blurring her edges and tinting her blue, but still. She's almost herself.

"I know," she says.

"Were you listening?"

Valerie reaches out, laying her palm on the ice. It cracks beneath her touch. "Yes."

"And?"

"It doesn't change much, does it?"

Danny lowers his gaze. He knows what he feels, what he did, no matter what Damon says. At this point, nothing can quell the guilt that swirls in Danny's blood. It seeps through him, poisoning his every thought.

"No, it doesn't," he says.

Valerie nods, satisfied, and pulls away from the ice. "Good. As long as you know."

—

Jazz knocks at his door, rapping persistently. He wonders if her knuckles ever get sore when she does that because it's been a good thirty seconds since she started. Apparently, she's resorting to the "annoying older sister" method, since the "therapist older sister" tactic didn't work so well.

Does she know about Danny's disaster of a call with Tucker last night? Danny's friends are, tentatively, Jazz's friends, too, at least when it comes to ghostly things and Danny's health. He wouldn't put it past Tucker to message Jazz, let her know what happened.

Danny swallows before calling out, "What?" His voice still comes out hoarse, probably because he hasn't had anything to drink for a good day and a half, which would explain the headache, too. But he's very busy right now having a staring contest with the increasingly tangible figure in the corner of his room. He didn't bother sleeping last night. Between the nightmares and Valerie's ghost, he would take the ghost.

Tucker's words from last night echo through his head. Are you sure you just don't want her to be gone?

Of course, he doesn't watch Valerie to be gone. But having her ghost isn't the same as having her, and the last few days have proven Valerie's ghost is no good to Danny. Still, he watched her all night, hoping for some flicker of familiarity. A flash of her headband, the dark brown of her eyes, the soft clinking of her bracelets. Proof his dreams aren't a lie. He got nothing. He's still not sure if he wants to see something.

"Danny?"

He blinks. The corner is empty now. Danny turns his head, his stiff neck cracking, and finally notices Jazz standing inside his bedroom. He doesn't remember her entering. He stopped paying attention entirely after he answered her. Had she said anything, or did she take his question as a welcome?

Danny licks his cracked lips. "What?" he repeats.

"Tucker called me a couple of minutes ago."

Danny keeps his expression carefully blank, but inside he panics. Tucker told her. He told her everything. She's going to tell him he's seeing things again, or give him those pitying eyes, or try and tell him this is all a psychosomatic reaction to losing a dear friend.

"There's a memorial for Valerie at Casper High today. He thought you might want to go," she says.

Danny's spiralling thoughts stutter and fizzle out. "A memorial?"

"Some of your classmates wanted to pay their respects. They’ve been planning it for the past couple of days." Jazz sits down on the edge of Danny's bed. Her fingers grip the hem of her sweater, holding back from reaching out. "Do you want to go?"

Danny keeps his gaze down but thinks about the now vacant corner of his bedroom. Staring at Valerie's maybe-ghost all day can't be good for him, as much as he hates to admit it. He groans and rubs his eyes. Agreeing with Jazz is never a good sign.

"Yeah." He drags his hand down his face, letting his arm drop into his lap. Going to school won't be fun, but he will regret it if he doesn't. "I'll go."

Jazz beams. "Put on something clean and I'll drive you."

"This is clean. Relatively."

"Put on something you didn't wear yesterday. You're not getting in my car until you do."

Danny sticks his tongue out at Jazz as she leaves. He's tempted to ignore her command and roll out of bed in what he's wearing, but knowing Jazz, she meant what she said, and she will leave him at home if he doesn't change into something fresh. And Danny doesn't feel like walking to school. Before, he would have flown to school, but he doesn't even entertain the idea now.

With a weary sigh, Danny crawls out of bed and heads for his dresser.

—

The Red Huntress stares down at the auditorium from the projector screen. It's a nice shot, taken during one of her patrols. She stands straight on her board, one hand shading her eyes, the other loosely holding her blaster. Sunlight glints off her visor, masking most of her face, except the part shaded by her hand. With the visor's tint, it's near impossible to tell those are Valerie's eyes unless you know. And Danny has always known.

Even though it's just a picture, Danny can't meet her gaze for long, turning his head and staring down instead. He steps away from the auditorium doors, letting others through. A few whispers float over his head, Valerie's name paired with his, mumbles about his presence at her death, his absence at school. Maybe he should have stayed home after all.

Danny waits until the stream of students thins before raising his head and peeking into the room. About half the seats are full, most of them toward the back. Waiting might have been a mistake. Now, he can't slip unnoticed into the back row as he planned. Danny bites his lip, wondering if he could stand at the back, or if he should leave. He shuffles his feet, turning down the hall toward the entrance.

A few stranglers are still making their way toward the auditorium, some students and a handful of teachers. Lancer walks with them, nudging some freshmen along.

"We didn't know her," one of them mutters.

"I mean, she was the Red Huntress," the other says. "She was kind of badass."

"She was a student who risked her life and died tragically. Be respectful," Lancer chides. The freshmen, cowed, scurry ahead and disappear through the doorway. Lancer, pinching the bridge of his nose, shakes his head and sighs. Danny can't remember ever seeing him so weary. Lancer drops his hands and finally spots Danny.

"Mr. Fenton, you came." His smile is weak but welcoming. "How are you?"

"Not much better."

Lancer nods. "Not surprising. Am I right to assume you won't be attending class after the memorial? It only covers part of the first period."

"Actually... I think I might go." On the way over, Danny told Jazz he could walk home after, and he didn't bring his backpack with him. Until this moment, he had no intentions of sticking around longer than necessary. Ironically, at least Danny sees it that way, it's Lancer's lack of judgement that convinces him to try and stick it out for the rest of the day.

"You know, Mr. Fenton. I'm proud of you." Lancer smiles again. "Remember, you don't have to stay if it gets too much but good on you for trying."

Danny smiles back, although with far less confidence. He waits for Lancer to go on ahead before slipping into the auditorium himself. From the top of the stairs, he has a good view of the entire room. The entire student body doesn't quite fill up the seats, leaving gaps here and there between grades and friends groups. He was right that all the seats at the back are taken, for the most part. A few empty spots peek out at him, but they're all much too close to other people.

Hugging himself, he readies for the long march down the steps to the front of the room, the only place with ample seating far from anyone else. He gives the back rows one last, hopeful glance. Nearly everyone is settled, friends hunched together, trading whispers or staring at their phones, although one figure off to the left is standing. And waving their arms.

"Danny!"

And calling his name?

The dim lighting makes it hard to see, forcing Danny to squint and shuffle closer, until he finally recognizes Sam. Tucker sits to her left, a single space between them, and their backpacks occupy the seats on either side of them, creating a thin barrier between them and the next students.

Tension bleeds out of Danny's shoulders. Without a second thought, he squeezes his way down the row, using his intangibility more than once to slip through long legs and jutting knees. A few people grumble their annoyance, but otherwise, no one calls him on it.

"Jazz texted and said you were coming," Sam says when Danny's close enough.

"I didn't want to miss it." Danny slips by Sam, claiming the middle seat. "Tucker?"

Tucker only spares him a glance before looking forward again.

"Thanks for letting me know. And... sorry. About yesterday."

For one stubborn moment, Tucker says nothing, and Danny thinks it's too late, he ruined their friendship. But then Tucker beams and grabs Danny, yanking him close.

"Dude, I'm so sorry. I was a dick, too. I'm glad you came."

Danny returns the hug, wrapping his arms around Tucker's shoulders and squeezing tight. It feels good, warm. Even if it doesn't erase anything from the past few days, it's still nice to hug his best friend.

"Oh, what the hell," Sam says. She flops onto Danny's back, draping her arms around him and Tucker. "Thanks for not shutting us out, Danny."

Just like that, the good feeling vanishes. The way Sam talks, it sounds like she thinks he's going to talk now, about everything. Everyone says he should, but after his parents, he's not so sure it will go well.

"Uh, yeah. Glad to be back," Danny says. It's only a partial lie.

They separate soon enough, settling into their seats just in time for Principal Ishiyama to walk on stage. As Ishiyama approaches the podium, the auditorium falls silent. Not that there had been much noise in the first place. A few muttering voices. Whispers here and there. It seems the whole school agrees now isn't a time for idle chatter.

"Students." Ishiyama's voice echoes from the speakers. "As I'm sure you know, we've experienced a great tragedy this last week. Valerie Gray, one of your classmates, maybe even your friend, died in a ghost attack. Despite dealing with ghosts for years, we've never lost someone to them before, and her passing came as a great shock.

"None of us knew, but Ms. Gray was a hero. Only now, after her death, have we learned about how much she did for us. She put her life on the line every day to keep the city safe, fighting valiantly for us. Today, we would like to honour that with a moment of silence, and a few words from her friends."

Ishiyama bows her head, signalling the start of the silence. Around the room, a decent number of students follow her lead, but even more sink down into their seats, as if they're settling in for a nap. Danny's glare hardens when he sees this, thinking of the freshmen from before. How many people in this room actually knew Valerie? How many are mourning the Red Huntress rather than the girl behind the helmet?

He thought coming to the memorial might make him feel, well, not better, but less bad. A little closer to okay. Instead, looking out over the gathered students, his stomach twists. This is a free pass out of class for most of them. They don't care, don't know, and they don't want to. Danny seethes, grinding his teeth as hot anger builds inside him.

Ishiyama breaks the silence before he can boil over. "Thank you. Before the first student comes up here, I'd like to remind everyone that a grief counsellor will be on the premises during school hours for the next week. If you need someone to talk to, he will be here. Your teachers will be here. Valerie was a bright girl and a friend to us all. Her death is a tragedy, and it has affected many of you in different ways. Don't be afraid to seek help when you need it."

Sam nudges Danny at Ishiyama's last word, shooting him a small smile. He can't return it.

Below, Star makes her way on stage, replacing Ishiyama at the podium. Danny immediately tunes her out when she starts speaking. The longer he's here, the more he realizes this is a waste of time and he shouldn't have come at all. He grips his armrests, squeezing the hard plastic as a distraction. It doesn't help as well as he hoped. He takes to scanning the room, dragging his gaze up and down the aisles, catching every sign of disrespect. A kid on his phone. Friends with their heads pressed together, talking softly. A dark silhouette standing halfway up the stairs.

The armrests crack in Danny's grip.

"Whoa, Danny. Are you okay?" Sam asks.

Danny barely hears her, all his attention on the ghost. Valerie's ghost. It looks more like a shadow than ever, with well-defined edges a strong, humanoid figure. He can almost see Valerie in it. But it still doesn't set off his ghost sense, not properly. A pinprick of cold pierces the heat in his chest, spreading quickly. Goosebumps raise along his arms and his breath carries the faintest trace of fog.

"Hey, uh, Danny? Can you maybe stop making it cold?" Sam whispers.

"It's not me," he says.

"Dude, I don't see anyone else with ice powers here," Tucker says.

Danny risks looking away, shooting Tucker an incredulous look, and points toward the aisle. "You don't see it?"

Tucker leans forward, following Danny's finger. "No, man. See what?"

Danny looks back and nearly jumps out of the seat. She's closer, further up the staircase, standing at the end of their aisle. The numbing cold has spread through his entire body by now. He can barely feel his fingers. His teeth chatter.

The shadow leaps forward.

Danny shoots to his feet, crying out in surprise. Heads whip toward him, but he barely registers them. The shadow leaps again. Danny bolts. He books it down the row, kicking a few knees, nearly tripping several times. Indignant shouts and raised voices follow him as he bursts out of the auditorium. He doesn't check over his shoulder, just keeps running. The cold seeps through his bones, sinks into his core. He feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into an icy abyss.

Moving on instinct, he dashes through the halls until he reaches the locker room. He dives into a shower stall, nearly ripping the tap out of the wall as he turns the water on to the hottest setting. It spews from the showerhead piping-hot, turning his skin red the moment it hits. It burns but the cold still won't go away. Danny tips his head up, opens his mouth, and swallows the water. It scalds his tongue and throat, burning all the way down, but the cold overwhelms it much too quickly.

He doesn't want to step out, not when the water hasn't done its job yet, but his skin is bright red and tender, minutes away from blistering. He forces himself out of the shower without turning it off, stumbling through the door and practically throwing himself against the nearest sink. Hunched over the basin, he swallows down the bile rising in his throat. Somehow, he manages not to throw up, a small victory for a hellish day. Once he's sure he won't be puking any time soon, even though his stomach still feels queasy, he splashes water against his face and looks up.

Blue lips. Pale skin. Face bloody and full of despair. In the mirror, Valerie looms over his shoulder.

Danny whips around, shoes slipping on the wet tiles as he tries to back away. The edge of the sink digs into his back. There's nowhere for him to go, Valerie's pale shade looming inches from him. An arm, or a trail of black mist that resembles one, reaches out toward him. It touches his chest.

Nothing happens.

"You're not whole yet," Danny realizes. It's only been five days since Valerie died.

The shadow ripples. Twisted tendrils burst forth, shooting toward him. They strike his chest and disappear in puffs of smoke, able to touch him but too weak to hurt him. Valerie shrieks. Her voice scrapes against Danny's ears, filling his head and bouncing around his brain, but it doesn't hurt. The lights flicker. The mirrors shatter. The tiles under their feet crack and still, Danny remains untouched. His disappointment overwhelms his relief, crashing through him in waves.

He pushes off the sink and reaches out, stopping inches away from her. "You can't touch me. Yet."

Valerie ripples again. Her form flickers, then she's gone.

Danny runs all the way home.

—

The ice is already broken by the time Danny's dream starts. He called them nightmares at first, but now, they're more like warnings. Promises, even.

Valerie crawls closer. Danny is not afraid.

"Danny," she says, her voice soft and calm, carrying no echoes of pain. She stops in front of him and lifts a cold finger to his chin, pushing his head up.

"Yes?" Danny matches her tone, just as soft, just as smooth. He can't help it. Something about the way she looks at him, the way she speaks. It makes him think everything will be okay.

"I know why I stayed." There's no trace of forgiveness in her gaze, but for some reason, he finds it more comforting than unsettling. As if she understands what he's thinking. She's the only one who knows what he deserves.

"Why?" Danny asks, but he already knows the answer.

"Wait for me," she says.

"I will," he answers.

—

Danny does not go back to school. He locks himself in his room, turns off his phone, and refuses to let anyone in. He made a promise and he's going to keep it. It's the one thing he can do for Valerie, after all. Give her what she wants.

One sleepless night later, on the seventh day after Valerie dies, her ghost manifests in Danny's room.

—

Danny swallows a cry of pain as Bertrand smacks him into the pavement. His great bear claws leave deep gouges across Danny's chest, the wounds leaking ectoplasm. He grits his teeth but doesn't worry. With his abilities, they will be healed by the end of the fight. Which he hopes comes soon. He's missing fourth period with Lancer right now, which isn't a big deal, but he has a math test next class, and he cannot afford another zero.

"Having a little trouble, ghost boy?"

A relieved grin stretches across Danny's face at the sight of Valerie flying overhead. "I don't know, I think I've got it handled." Planting his hands on asphalt, he flips himself up and out of the way of Bertrand's next swipe.

"Doesn't look like that from up here," Valerie says.

"Well, you could always come down and help me then. Prove how much stronger you are." Danny wastes a moment to wink and nearly gets taken out for it. Bertrand roars and pounces toward him. Danny barely leaps out of the way in time.

"Geez, I know you're unbearable, but this is ridiculous."

"Not quite." Spectra's melodic voice easily carries down the street. "I think pathetic is more accurate for your display, Phantom."

Danny scowls. "Shut up, I don't care what you think!"

Valerie swoops down while Spectra's distracted, her blaster spitting bullets faster than Danny can think. Spectra's eyes widen and she drops through the pavement, intangible, to avoid the fire. Danny doesn't have time to watch for her return, trusting Valerie to keep an eye out while he tackles Bertrand again.

The stuffy butler has shifted from a bear into a snake. Venom drips from his fangs and sizzles on the pavement.

"That's not fair," Danny whines.

"Ssssso what?" Bertrand hisses. He coils then jumps.

"Whoa!" Danny grabs his head and yanks it out of Bertrand's path, his neck turning to pale vapour.

"Phantom!" Valerie shouts. "Get your head back on and fight seriously!"

"You don't think I look good like this?" Danny pouts, tossing his head from one hand to the other. Everything blurs and he stumbles. "Okay, wow. Don't do that again." He shoves his head back on, struggling to steady himself as the street spins around him.

"Phantom!" Valerie shrieks in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah!" Danny twists away from Bertrand's sneak attack, grabbing the ghost’s fang as he shoots by. Yanking hard, Danny swings Bertrand around and slams his head into the ground. "Good snake, nice snake!"

Bertrand writhes, bucking wildly under Danny's grip. He struggles to keep a firm holds on him, but then Bertrand opens his mouth wide and snaps down. Yelping, Danny lurches away, yanking his hand back just in time. He flies up to Valerie and takes to scanning the street with her.

"No sign of Spectra?"

"I can take care of her myself," Valerie snaps.

"Sure, but a little help never hurt, right?"

Through her visor, Valerie's eyes narrowed. "Fine."

"Oh, now this is interesting."

Both ghost hunters stiffen. Danny turns, pressing his back against Valerie's, and searches for Spectra. He can't see her. Neither can Valerie, judging by the soft curses under her breath.

"You don't care what I think, but you care what she thinks, don't you?" Spectra asks.

Danny bristles. "So what?"

"Does she think you're strong? Or weak? Do you want to protect her?"

"I don't need anyone to protect me!" Valerie shouts. Under her breath, she says to Danny, "We can't stay together. We won't find her this way, and we still have her crony. You take the ground, I'll take the sky."

"Shouldn't the ghost take the sky?" Danny whispers back.

"Just do it!"

He rolls his eyes, but complies anyway, dropping back to the street.

"Back for more ssso sssoon?" Bertrand asks.

"I didn't get enough of your pretty face the first time," Danny says. "Those fangs are a real good look on you."

"Ssstop ssstalling."

"Stop being so ugly."

"Real original."

"Bertrand!" Spectra snaps. She sounds closer now, too close for Danny's liking. "Get the girl. I'll deal with our little meal."

"Um, ew?"

A bright green disk flies at Danny out of nowhere. He barely sees it before it hits, exploding against his chest and blasting him back. Danny groans when he hits the ground, carefully patting his chest for injuries. The gouges from Bertrand were nearly healed, but now they're seeping ectoplasm once again.

Above him, Bertrand has changed into a giant wasp. He zips about Valerie, trying to catch her with his stinger. She's too fast for him, but, likewise, he's too fast for her. None of their hits are landing, and they're playing an endless game of chase.

Spectra rises from the ground beside him, her hands glowing. "You might want to focus on me."

Danny scrambles back, disks of ectoplasm exploding behind him. Ectoplasm lights his fists, and he swings, aiming for Spectra's face. She ducks away cackling.

"Do you ever give up?" he shouts.

"Why would I when you make it so easy?" Spectra laughs behind her hand. "I can only think of a few things worse than an abomination like yourself."

Danny falters. Don't let her get to you, he tells himself. "Oh yeah, like what?"

"The only thing worse than an abomination is a weak one. And that's what she thinks you are, weak."

"That's a lie!"

"Really? Then why did she send you down here to take care of my little assistant, while she kept watch above, searching for me?"

Danny can't help it. He slips, falls for it, lets the ectoplasm coating his hands fizzle out as he glances up at Valerie. She's still caught in her game of cat and mouse with Bertrand, but in the midst of her fight, she keeps glancing down, at Danny and Spectra. Watching out for him? Or watching to see if he can do it? If he needs help?

"N-no, you're lying." He knows Spectra lies. She never tells the truth, always twists other people's words and actions for her own gain, but...

"Look at you!" Spectra's not even poised to fight now, standing completely relaxed with a hand on her hip. "Pathetic! You couldn't take us on your own. She had to come help you, and you still can't beat me."

"Liar!" Danny whips and ectoblast at her. It shoots through the air, a blazing green star. Spectra's quick to counter, breaking his attack with a blast of her own. They explode when they meet, a cascade of light and ectoplasm.

"See? Weak. You can't do anything with powers like this?"

"Then what about this?" Danny thrusts his arm out. Ice races across the ground, encasing Spectra's feet. It creeps up her legs until nearly her entire body is coated in it, but all she does is laugh and clap.

"Oh, that's a fun trick. But it doesn't do much, does it?" A swipe of her hand and the ice melts and cracks. She shoots into the air, her aura glowing brighter as she gathers her power. "You're only proving me right, dear. You should just give up."

"Shut up." The temperature around Danny plummets, frost creeping across the pavement. His breath fogs the air.

Spectra goes on. "You can't expect to protect anyone like this. A freak, a loser, and a joke of a hero! You've hit all three!"

Behind Spectra, far above their heads, Bertrand splits into a swarm of wasps and rushes Valerie. He knocks her off her board, and she plummets with a scream.

Danny sees. He sees but he doesn't think. Spectra's taunting words pound in his ears, fill up his head, shove all other thoughts aside and blind him.

"I said. Shut! Up!" He bellows and stomps his feet. A wave of power bursts off him, razor-sharp icicles spewing from the ground, taller than Danny. Spectra easily dodges, flying up out of harm's way as she cackles with glee.

Too late, Danny realizes his mistake.

"Valerie!" he screams, echoing her cry, as he lunges toward her, but it's too late.

An icicle rips through her with a sickening squelch. Her blood sprays across Danny's face, seeping into his eyes and mouth. It's all he can see and taste. Her body hits the ground with a thud, nearly torn in two. Her heart beats against the open air. One of her lungs lays on the ground beside her, shredded to pieces.

Danny drops to his knees. He can't breathe. He can't think. Valerie, Valerie, VALERIE! A scream of agony tears from his throat as his world shatters around him.

—

Valerie doesn't look all that different in death. She wears her Huntress suit, although ferns of frost curl along her abdomen, spewing from a gape black void in her side. Pale blue overtakes the red. Her hair glows orange. Not bad, as far as ghost forms go.

"I always knew you were bad." Her voice carries an echo that swells and fills the room. "I knew you were evil. All ghosts are. And you made me one of them. Danny," Valerie's stoic expression splinters, "how could you?"

"I'm sorry," Danny says, because there's nothing else he can say, nothing that will make up for this. He reaches out to her, but she recoils, lips curling in disgust.

"I never wanted to turn into this. It hurts." Her voice breaks. A wet sob chokes her words. Like she's still drowning in her own blood, forever.

"I know. God, I know. It never stops. It's like your broken inside." Danny grabs his hair and tugs. "There's a void and nothing ever fills it. I didn't mean it, Valerie, I didn't! But I killed you, and I– I'm sorry! If I could take it back, if I could trade places with you, I would. You know I would."

"I know."

"If I could do anything to make better..." Danny lowers his head, shame and regret pressing him down.

Valerie reaches for him. Just like in his dream, she grabs his chin and slowly lifts his head, forcing him to look at her. "Danny."

He knows. He knows. He knows what she's going to say, what she's going to do. He's known all along, since that first nightmare. Maybe he's been ignoring it, or hoping for it. Either way, he won't stop her. He deserves it.

She lays her other hand on his chest, ice gathering in her palm. "Die for me."

—

When Mr. Gray finishes crying, he wipes his eyes and slumps into his chair. "So." The words cracks as it comes out. He pauses to swallow a few times, shuddering visibly. "So. That's how it happened."

Danny keeps his eyes downcast. He knows what's coming next. The screaming, the yelling, the accusations. He will take all of it, already agrees with Mr. Gray even though the man hasn't said a word. It's just a matter of seconds, now.

"You–" MR. Gray starts.

Say it. Say I killed her. Call me a murderer.

"It wasn't your fault."

Danny nearly chokes on his surprise. "What?"

"It was. An accident. You were manipulated, tricked. It wasn't your fault, Danny. I don't want you to think it was."

Danny's mind reels. This can't be happening. Surely, he's hearing Mr. Gray wrong, making up a fantasy in his head, but no. Valerie's father doesn't hate him. The one person who has any right to, other than Valerie. And he... forgives Danny.

"And if I know my daughter, she wouldn't blame you either."

As Danny gets up to leave, only one thought runs through his head. Then you didn't know her very well.

—

It doesn't hurt as much as he thought it would. The impact feels like a punch, a burst of searing pain, then he's gone.

And then he's not. He's in his room, floating on one side of his bed. Valerie stands across from them. Between him, his body sits, held upright by the spear of ice jutting through his chest. Valerie apparently had some shred of mercy left in her. The spear went right through Danny's heart.

The wound is still fresh, still bleeding, dripping down his body's chest. Seconds or days to manifest, Danny's mom said. Isn't he a lucky one?

Valerie eyes him over his dead body, and he follows her stare. In the middle of his chest, swirling frost creeps out of a black void. They match. How poetic.

"You're not gone," Danny says, lifting his gaze back to Valerie.

"No. And you stayed."

"Yeah."

She doesn't move away, and neither does he. They can't, not without the other following. They have haunted each other for so long, Danny stalking her in life, Valerie hunting him in death. Now, it seems, they're stuck together at a stalemate, neither one willing to move first. They're dead now, though, so that doesn't matter. They have all the time in the world.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #phanfi #phicc #tumblroneshots #valerie gray #tw gore #tw blood #tw panick attacks #tw murder #angst #tragedy #there is no comfort here #you've been warned #christmas truce #christmas truce 2020

50 notes · View notes

homebody-nobody · 3 years

Note

54 and 62 Jiara

hello I got ~carried away~ who is shocked not me

Rating: T (for language) Word Count: 1653 (oops)

54) Why is there a pregnancy test in the trash? 62) I warned you. He warned you. Your fucking mom warned you.

Dating Daniel Ryder was a bad idea. Kiara knew that. But he was tall, blond, blue-eyed, and deeply emotionally unavailable, and Kie is, unfortunately, the kind of girl with a type. Pope had already confronted her about the similarities between Danny and a certain friend of theirs, so when she misses her period, she knows she can’t call the boys.

After the summer of gold, Sarah became somewhat of a permanent fixture in their little crew, and, reluctantly, old grudges were forgiven, and a new, better friendship formed. Kiara wasn’t sure how to approach that relationship, at first. Being friends with girls was so much different than what she had grown up with, gotten so used to over the years. It’s a different kind of bond. All the same, she doesn’t want to go to Walgreens by herself.

While they wait for the results, sitting on Kiara’s bathroom floor, Sarah knocks her foot against Kiara’s.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she says, and Kiara just shrugs, too disconnected from reality to really get any thought past the swirling storm of panic that predominates her thoughts.

Another minute passes, and the timer rings on Sarah’s phone. Kiara lunges toward the counter.

The test is negative.

Both girls let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Oh thank fuck,” Kiara lets out, dropping back to the floor, her back sliding down the wall. Sarah leans over and drops her forehead against her friend’s knee, laughing, because she doesn’t really know what else to do. She wouldn’t have known what to say, if something else had happened. “I’m not telling Danny.”

Sarah lifts her head, her chin resting on Kiara’s knee instead. “Why not?” she asks.

Kiara shrugs again. “He’ll freak and run.” She shakes her head. “I should have listened to JJ.” He hadn’t liked Danny from the jump.

Sarah scrunches up her nose and wraps her arms around Kie’s leg. “I mean, he warned you,” she admits, and then; “I also warned you. I mean hell, your fucking mom warned you.” She laughs a little bit, and Kiara picks up the leg she’s leaning on and nudges her in the stomach with her foot.

“You’re not helping,” she points out.

Sarah’s head falls to the side, watching her friend’s face, studying the gears turning behind deep, intelligent brown eyes.

“Are you gonna tell JJ?” she asks.

Kiara lands squarely back in reality with a jerk. “Why the fuck would I do that?” she asks, and Sarah almost laughs. She knows how JJ feels about Kiara. Everyone does, except for Kiara.

Sarah shrugs, delighting just the smallest bit in the way the machine in Kie’s head seems to be spitting smoke trying to understand what Sarah has just said. There’s no more argument, though, because the door to Kiara’s room bursts open, announcing the arrival of John B and JJ, who, of course, neglected to text about coming over to pick the both of them up. AFter everything, Kie’s parents have been infinitely kinder to all of the boys, and the Carrera house has started to feel like communal territory, equitable to the Heywards but not quite on par with the Chateau. Although, nowhere will ever feel like home to any of them quite like the Chateau does.

Sarah scrambles up from the floor, and goes back into Kie’s room to stall. Kiara stands and sweeps the pregnancy test in the trash, washing her hands before following Sarah into the bedroom.

“What were you both doing in the bathroom?” John B asks, plastered to Sarah’s back, his arms around her shoulders. Kiara looks, wild-eyed, to her friend, and Sarah makes up a lie about makeup. John B looks satisfied, but JJ doesn’t.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Kie asks, “I thought it was common practice to call before you start bursting into people’s houses.”

JJ pokes her in the side with a good-natured grin, and masks his confusion poorly when she swats at his hand. “There was no bursting,” he protests, “your mom let us in.” She still doesn’t smile or laugh, and he relents, eyeing her all the same. She’s still upset and a little shaken, and Kiara has never been very good at covering up her feelings. He wants to ask her wha’ts up, but he knows that won’t yield anything, not with John B and Sarah there, too. Kiara already isn’t good at vulnerability, much less in group settings. It takes one-on-one time and usually a good deal of alcohol before she lets anything remotely private slip.

John B saves the day. “We came to get you guys,” he explains, “There’s a killer swell at Rixon’s right now.”

Kiara lights up, delighted by the idea of a long afternoon of surfing to get her mind off the close call and the conversation she’s goind to have to have with Danny, and ducks into her walk-in closet to change. Dimly, she hears JJ say something about needing the bathroom through the door, and her heart climbs up into her throat as she ties the halter of her bikini behind her neck, dizzy and praying to whatever might be up there that he doesn’t look in the trash.

They aren’t listening.

They both come back into the room at the same time, JJ drying his hands on his t-shirt (heathen), and Kiara pulling on a loose button-up to serve as a cover-up. JJ, bless him, never does know how or when to keep his mouth shut.

“Why is there a pregnancy test in the trash?” he asks.

Kiara freezes, and Sarah takes a deep, sharp inhale. Still holding her, John B goes ghost-white, his entire body going stiff. JJ realizes his mistake almost immediately.

“Um --” he says, eyes darting between the two girls, and, resigned, Kiara takes the fall, to save the healthy relationship from an entirely unnecessary fight.

“It’s mine,” she says, and John B relaxes, just slightly. JJ doesn’t. Not until she says; “false alarm.”

The silence hangs awkward and heavy until Sarah says something about warming up the van (It’s May), and drags John B out of the room. JJ doesn’t say anything, and Kiara doesn’t know why she’s waiting for him to. He stares at the floor, and she twists the hem of her shirt around her index finger.

When he does speak, she’s surprised at his question. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks.

“It’s no big deal,” she reassures him, not sure she believes it, herself. “It was negative, anyway.”

“You thought you were pregnant, Kie,” he says, his voice breaking on the word. She flinches. “That’s a pretty big fucking deal.”

“But I’m not,” she insists, stubbornly determined not to understand why he’s so caught up in this.

“Did you tell Danny?” he asks, and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away from this conversation. She didn’t expect JJ to care this much, and possible reasons tumblr and crash together in her exhausted, anxiety-hangover of a mind. She shakes her head, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, and his mouth turns into a thin, flat line, his hand curling into a fist and tapping lightly against the bedpost. “Why not?” he asks.

“Why do you care so much?” she shoots back, and he winces, the words like a blow. She knows why.

“I don’t know,” he says. “If it was me --”

“But it’s not you,” she interrupts, shocked to feel tears forming, hard and crystalline, in the bottom of her throat. “So it doesn’t matter.”

“And whose fault is that?” he responds immediately. The words echo like a whip cracked through the room, and finally, their eyes meet, furious and burning, full of misunderstanding and jealousy and illusions of betrayed trust. “I warned you,” he goes on, the dam finally broken, “I told you he was bad news and you dated him anyway.”

“You’re acting like you were even an option!” she snaps, and there’s the truth of it. She dated Danny because he was almost JJ, because the one thing she really wanted, the one person she really wanted -- she thought he was out of reach. Her voice is ragged and raw when honesty finally climbs and claws its way out of her throat. “Of course, I wanted you,” she cries. “But I couldn’t have you, so don’t go trying to tell me how to live my life.”

When she looks up again, his face is so open and honest it almost hurts. Her chest heaves from the argument and the fear and all the other stress she’s carried around all day. She can’t handle this, not now, and her entire body screams at her to just run, but she can’t, not when JJ is looking at her like that.

“Kie…” he sighs, and without words, the truth paints itself around the both of them, colors finally exploding across the blank, undefined space between them. He crosses the room in three quick steps, and he’s kissing her, holding her face, her hands curled on his chest. It’s an explosion of sorts, an ending and a beginning all at once.

JJ speaks softly when he pulls away. “You could’ve had me,” he says, his thumb brushing away a tear that rolls down her cheek. “You can still have me.” She lifts a fist and lets it thump gently against his chest, letting out a watery laugh.

“You never said --” she starts, but he smiles, and kisses her again.

“I didn’t think I had to,” he explains, and she bumps her forehead against his.

“You’re an idiot,” she says, and he laughs.

“Your idiot,” he says. And then, softer; “if you want me.”

She kisses him once more, and there’s still John B and Sarah downstairs, still Danny to deal with, still a thousand other things that might get in their way, but this moment -- this moment is all theirs.

“Of course I want you.”

#jiara #jiara fic #obx #obx fic #my writing #jj maybank #kiara carrera

36 notes · View notes

tw-anchor · 4 years

Text

36. The Anchor and the True Alpha

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x12; Lunar Ellipse

Word Count: 8,373

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, stupid Jennifer Blake, moron Deucalion, true alphaness, badass anchor, awkward Derek

Author’s Note: Here’s the 3A finale! I hope you enjoy. Please make sure to let me know what you think, reblog, and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

"Okay, like this?"

Allison giggled at Olivia, enjoying the way she held the Chinese ring daggers that the shorter brunette had insisted that Allison teach her how to use. Right now, Olivia held them loosely, the tip of the blades closer to cutting her wrists more than protecting herself.

"Stop laughing at me!" Olivia called her out with amused eyes. "I'm trying to be a badass like you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Allison choked down the rest of her laughter. "Let's start over."

Olivia nodded and put the daggers back to the starting position that Allison had taught her. "Okay, now what?"

"Now, you twist them like this," Allison demonstrated the move with the set she was using. "and then you flip your wrists up and raise your arms like this."

Olivia did as Allison told her, wincing at the slight bruises starting to form around the base of her fingers. Chinese ring daggers were no joke and now she understood why Allison came to school with bandages around her fingers for a couple of weeks the previous semester of school.

She did the move sloppily, nowhere near as sharp as Allison's, of course, but that was expected. Allison nodded in approval, a small smile forming at her lips. "All right, keep practicing that," she said encouragingly. "Once you tighten that up, we can move onto the next move."

"Considering that I'm not athletic whatsoever, I think that went okay," Olivia breathed as she slipped the daggers off of her fingers.

Allison laughed. "Does that mean you want to try the crossbow?"

"Don't even think about it, Al!"

Olivia walked through the woods surrounding the old Hale House. They were training Jackson about control before he headed off to London, England. To say that he was being a bitch about it all would be an understatement. He was taking his temper out on her and Scott—he was upset about what he had done as the kanima, his brush with death, and the fact that his parents had found out what happened and were moving the family to London for no other reason than to get him away from everything supernatural.

Olivia could take his temper and his snide comments because she had seven or eight years to get used to it. Scott, however, did not. Too many comments about he used to suck at lacrosse and cheated the whole semester, how he used to have only Stiles as a friend, his mom's income, and Allison breaking up with him had gotten to Scott.

He stomped away with golden eyes, leaving her to deal with Jackson on her own. Since she was still harnessing her own abilities, she just sent Jackson home for the day and then proceeded to go and find Scott. She found him by a small creek, sitting on the bank.

"Hey," she called as she walked over and sat down next to him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he told her quietly. "Just lost control for a second."

"Anyone would have. Jackson's a dickhead. I don't know how he has more two friends," she huffed out a laugh. "Other than me and Danny, I think the rest are just afraid of him."

Scott's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Probably," he hesitated. "Have you, uh, have you heard from Allison?"

Olivia frowned as she thought of her friend. "A couple of nights ago. She's not doing too well. I think Gerard messed her up just as much as her mom's death."

"He's a psycho," Scott agreed. "Did she ask you about me?"

She hesitated, not wanting to hurt his feelings—how had she become this empathetic person? "I'm sorry, Scott, but no," when Scott ducked his head, she reached for his hand and took it, trying to give him as much support as he needed. "I know it hurts but she's going through a tough time. And you're both different people now, you've both changed."

"So does that mean she won't want to get back together?" Scott asked miserably, lifting his head to look at her with wet eyes.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But, Scott, listen. I know you love her, I know you do. And what you had was amazing and odds-defying. But sometimes relationships don't last. It doesn't mean that those people don't love each other, but sometimes circumstances can alter the path of the relationship."

Scott frowned and looked back at the creek. "I really love her."

"I know," she squeezed his hand. "but sometimes love isn't enough. Then again, I can't predict the future. Allison may come back from France and want to get back together, she may not. I just want you to be ready for whatever she decides, okay?"

"...Okay," Scott said after a minute and then attempted to smile at her, changing the subject only slightly. "Are you a love guru or something, Liv?"

Olivia laughed. "Nah, I'm not so good at love."

"That's not what Stiles says."

"Hey," she slapped is arm playfully. "You guys talk about me?"

"A little too much—ow, Liv!"

Derek sighed reluctantly as he sat Olivia down on her bed, taking a seat in the armchair a few feet away. "Okay, I didn't want to have to do this, but you and Stiles—"

"Oh no. Oh, God, please don't do this," Olivia pleaded with her cousin, her cheeks warming up. "Derek just walk away."

"No, I have to get this out," Derek insisted. "You have no one else to tell you."

"Uh, yes I—"

"Obviously, you and Stiles are in a serious relationship," Derek interrupted her. "and with a serious relationship comes...personal relations."

"Personal relations?" she looked at him in disbelief. "What are you, eighty-five years old?"

"Fine, sex," Derek glared at her. "You and Stiles will start having sex."

Olivia sighed and though she appreciated that he was there to give her advice and take care of her, Natalie had given her and Lydia the typical parental sex talk when they were eleven and twelve and they got their periods around the same time. Then, a few years later, Lydia gave her an actual sex talk after her experiences with some boys and then Jackson—the kind of talk that was rated R and too inappropriate for parents to talk about with their kids.

"Now, you probably won't experience this, because I'm tempted to rip off Stiles arms if he doesn't keep his hands to himself, but," Derek winced, looking more uncomfortable than she felt. "but sex...is...natural."

"Derek, please..."

"Just let me get this out before I lose my nerve," Derek cut her off; Olivia nodded, her lips twisting in amusement. "Under no circumstances are you to have sex without a condom. Only when you're married and want to have a family is when it's accepted to go without."

Olivia hid her smile to nod seriously. "Okay."

"And never, ever do anything you're uncomfortable with," Derek continued. "If you say no, Stiles will stop if he's a good guy. If not, I put pepper spray on your keys and a rape whistle in your purse."

"Oh, God..."

Stiles was not a guy who would put his hands on anyone without their express permission. Usually he was a nervous wreck anyway if they did something sexual. And he was always respectful of her. But, if he was out of his mind or crazy enough to force her into relations—as Derek called it—than she would kick his ass. And then break up with him. She loved him but she loved herself too and she was not going to put up with that.

When Olivia nodded her understanding, Derek cleared his throat. "Now..."

He paused to pull something from behind his back. Olivia's mouth fell open when she saw what he had. "Oh, my God...please tell me that's not a banana and a condom, Der! Oh, my God, it is!" she winced and buried her burning face into her hands. "Please don't do this Derek."

"I want you to learn how to put on a condom."

"I didn't want to say this, but Derek, I've already had this talk, two different times, okay?" her voice was muffled by her hands, but Derek got the gist; he looked horrified. "Lydia even taught me how to put on a condom."

She almost added that she knew how to do it multiple ways, but Derek looked like he wanted to die from embarrassment from what he had already heard.

He glared at her. "Why did you let me ramble on?!"

"I didn't let you ramble on, you kept interrupting me!"

"You're grounded!"

A genuine laugh spilled from Olivia's lips. "You can't ground me!"

"Well, I just did, so there!"

"Top five favorite ice creams. Go."

Olivia blinked in surprise from Stiles' random prompt. They were on the beach, laying on their towels and trying to tan after a dip in the ocean. She raised up onto her elbows—she was laying on her stomach—and looked down at Stiles, from where he was laying on his back, hair halfway grown out and the black ray bans she gave him as a gift on the bridge of his nose.

"I don't like ice cream very much," she told him.

"There's not way you don't like ice cream," Stiles disagreed; she shook her head. "Come on, you don't even like chocolate-chip cookie dough?"

"I don't like raw cookie dough."

"Unbelievable. I'm in love with a heathen," Stiles joked. "So, not one ice cream?"

"I have two that I usually get if I actually want ice cream," she confessed. "I like vanilla and mint."

Stiles looked up at her in disbelief. "Vanilla and mint?" when she nodded, he scoffed. "Sorry, nope, I'm not dating a heathen, I'm dating a senior citizen."

"Hey!" she gently slapped his toned abdomen in offense. "I'm younger than you."

"Your favorite ice cream flavors are vanilla, which is the most basic out of all the flavors, and mint—without chocolate, by the way—which only adults eat. No offense, babe, but you need to live on the edge sometimes."

Olivia pinched his side because of the pet name and laughed. "Living on the edge is eating different ice cream flavors? Wow, what a life you live, Stiles."

He poked her in the cheek. "At least I don't have the personality of an old lady."

"Ouch, that really hurt."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Stiles put his hands up defensively. "All right, how about the worst five moments of your life?"

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "What a serious change of topic."

"Here, I'll pick a new one—"

"No, it's okay," she assured him. She leant toward him more and rested her head on his stomach, facing him. "Number five would be my very first day of school."

"Really?" that surprised Stiles. "You love school, though."

"I do now. Before I started school, I hung out with either Lydia, or Cora, Derek, and Laura," she shared with him. "They were all my heroes and my best friends. And I'm a year younger than Lydia and Cora, so I didn't start school with them and it made me so upset that I threw a fit."

"You, having a tantrum? Wow, I didn't expect that," Stiles commented sarcastically.

"I really was an angel," Olivia went along with him and then went back to the story. "Anyway, my mom started teaching me stuff because she was in college studying to be a teacher. By the time I went to preschool, I was too advanced and I was miserable because Lydia and Cora weren't with me."

"So they let you skip a grade."

Olivia nodded. "I tested out of preschool and went right to kindergarten."

"We had class together," Stiles remembered. "You were quiet."

"And you were weird," Olivia returned with a laugh.

Stiles joined in with her laughter. "All right, what about number four?"

"Number four was when I was seven years old and I realized that I wasn't able to draw," at the look Stiles gave her, she defended herself. "In my defense, I wanted to be an artist back then. And I was not good at art. At all. I was always jealous of Lydia's ability to do anything, especially draw."

"You shouldn't compare yourself to Lydia," Stiles scolded her quietly. "You're perfect, even with all your flaws."

Olivia smiled gently, touched by his words. "Thanks, Stiles."

They kept going with her worst moments in her life. Her third worst moment was when she and Cora got lost in the woods outside of the old Hale House when they were five or so. She had been really scared and Cora hadn't yet mastered her enhanced sense of smell, so they were stuck out there for four hours—when Talia and Peter had found them, they were grounded for two weeks. Her second worst moment was the night of winter formal, when Peter had bitten Lydia and herself.

"The worst moment of my life was when I heard about the fire," she said quietly, tracing the pattern of Stiles' freckles on his stomach. "Everyone but Laura and Derek were in the fire. They came to me and told me what happened. Our whole family was dead, my mom was dead, and my dad barely survived."

Stiles brushed his fingers through her hair; he knew what it felt like to lose a parent and he couldn't imagine what it was like to lose two at the same time—because she had lost Peter, too, even if he wasn't dead. He just turned into a psychotic alpha who wanted revenge without carrying about those closest to him.

"I was lost for a really long time," she admitted quietly. "Derek and Laura left for New York and I was suddenly living with Lydia, Uncle Thomas, and Aunt Natalie. But I eventually got better."

"Yeah, you did," Stiles gazed at her with soft, loving eyes. "and you're the strongest person I know."

"I'm not strong," she denied, avoiding his eyes. "I'm a coward. I hide my feelings away deep down inside of me. I act like a bitch to anyone I don't care about. Most of the time I'm an emotionless robot."

"No, you're not," Stiles sat up and simultaneously adjusted her until she was sitting in his lap. "The people who say you're emotionless don't take the time to pay attention to you. I'm sorry, Livvy, but you're actually very easy to read."

Olivia gaped at him, unsure if she should be insulted or relieved. Maybe it was a little bit of both; she was a little insulted because her emotionless robot mask was a comfort to her and not to mention, something to push away all of her negative feelings. On the other hand, it was special to her that Stiles was able to read her so soundly. The only other people who had been able to were Lydia and Derek but Stiles being able to, the boy she loved...that was amazing.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Stiles emphasized his words with a quick but loving kiss. "Okay, that's enough seriousness for now."

"Mmm, I agree," Olivia smiled at him.

"So, how about...your top five pizza toppings?"

"Well, number one is pepperoni..."

"Ah, what a classic."

Olivia woke up eight hours after Stiles, Scott, and Allison had fallen unconscious. Lydia and Isaac were sound asleep but Dr. Deaton was awake and there to greet her when she woke up. She was disoriented, the memories with Allison, Scott, Derek, and Stiles going through her mind like flashes.

She didn't tell Deaton about the memories, but instead thought on them. It didn't take long to realize that one of those memories were unlike the other. Derek hadn't been in the ritual like the others, so why did she see him?

It worried her. It worried her so much that she excused herself from the exam room and called Derek. It was Cora who answered the call, shockingly—she had no idea how Cora was better but boy, was she glad that she was. She told Cora that she was worried about Derek and in return, Cora told her just how she hadn't gotten better. Derek had given up his alpha status to heal Cora; he was now a beta again and very, very weak at the moment.

Olivia checked her tethers and she saw that Cora was right. Derek's tether was bright blue again, like the color of his eyes before he killed Peter and became an alpha. It was strange, but it was more worrying than the memory she had. Kali and the twins were supposed to come for Derek before the lunar eclipse and not only was he not an alpha anymore, but he was tired from healing Cora. He was screwed.

She told Cora that she would call back soon before hanging up. Then, she cried. She cried for Derek, she cried for Stiles and Allison and Scott, for Noah, Melissa, and Argent, and finally, for herself.

The whispers in her head were loud and they were pressing. She could no longer focus on anything but the names of her loved ones and the pain that filled her heart from her loss, even if Stiles, Scott, and Allison came back. She had the potential of losing the boyfriend she loved, two friends, and Derek, her protector, guardian, and father-figure for all intents and purposes.

It was not okay. None of this was okay.

Stiles, Allison, Scott...Derek, Derek, Derek...Stiles, Allison, Scott...Over and over, came the whispers until a migraine grew and she fell asleep once again.

She woke up only three hours later, more collected. She stayed seated in between Isaac and Lydia, who had now woken up for the day, and they all listened to assurances from Dr. Deaton that Stiles, Scott, and Allison would be okay. There was worry in his voice but somehow, his words comforted them. Olivia had the feeling that the man could give someone the worst news of their life and still be a comfort.

It was eight hours after the first time Olivia woke up, sixteen hours after they first fell unconscious, when Stiles, Allison, and Scott all woke, sitting up out of the water with loud gasps. Olivia, Lydia, Isaac, and Deaton rushed over to the tubs, the ice long gone, and handed the three of them towels.

"I saw it, I know where it is!" Scott claimed, taking the towel that Lydia held out for him.

Stiles nodded. "We passed it," Stiles confirmed as he climbed out of the tub soaking wet. "There's—there's a stump, this huge tree. Well, it's not huge anymore, it was cut down. But it's still big, though, very big."

As Olivia wrapped a towel around him, Scott added, "It was the night we were looking for the body."

"Yeah, the same night you were bit by Peter."

"I was there, too, in the car with my mother," Allison was still sucking in huge gulps of air. "We almost hit someone."

"It was me. You almost hit me," Scott told her; Allison gasped in amazement while he turned to the others. "We can find it."

Olivia, Lydia, and Isaac all exchanged worried looks. It didn't go unnoticed by Allison, Scott, and Stiles.

"What?" Allison asked them.

Isaac was the one to answer them. "You guys were out a long time."

"How long is a long time?" Stiles wondered, glancing between the three of them and then over to Dr. Deaton.

"Sixteen hours," Deaton broke the news.

Scott's eyes widened in shock. "We've been in the water for sixteen hours?"

Dr. Deaton nodded. "And the full moon rises in less than four."

Scott sighed heavily and sat down on the rim of his tub. "I have to go back to the alpha pack."

Olivia gulped uncomfortably and spoke up, "I think I should go with you, too."

Scott looked at her with an understanding expression and nodded slowly.

"No, dude, you are not going back with them," Stiles told Scott firmly before pointing to Olivia. "And you, don't even think about it, all right?"

"I made a deal with Deucalion," Scott reminded him. "And he wants Olivia, too. A lot."

Stiles scoffed. "Does anyone else think that sounds a lot like a deal with the devil?"

"What does it matter, anyway?" Isaac piped up from his seat next to Allison.

"Because I still don't think we can beat Jennifer without their help."

Allison shook her head at Scott's answer and turned to Dr. Deaton pleadingly. "He trusts you more than anyone and Liv is obviously going to agree with him. Tell them they're wrong."

Deaton glanced at Olivia and then Scott. "I'm not so sure they are," he admitted. "Circumstances like this sometimes require that you align yourself with people you'd normally consider enemies."

"So we're gonna trust Deucalion?" Isaac shook his head in disbelief. "The guy that calls himself death, destroyer of worlds? We're gonna trust that guy?

"I wouldn't trust him, no," Deaton advised and gestured to Olivia and Scott. "But you guys could use him to your advantage. Deucalion may be the enemy, but he could also be the bait."

They all paused as they heard the door to the lobby open. Deaton went out first, and when they heard Ethan's voice, Olivia, Lydia, Stiles, and Scott joined him.

"I'm looking for Lydia," he told them.

Lydia looked at him expectantly. "What do you want?"

"I need your help."

Olivia gave him a suspicious look. "With what?"

"Stopping my brother and Kali," he paused only for a second. "from killing Derek."

Olivia lifted her chin, all of her concern for Derek coming back into focus. Stiles, Scott, and Allison were all right, but what about Derek? His tether was still shining bright blue and although it wasn't enough to take all of her focus, his name was still floating around in her head.

"You should go, Lydia," Olivia cleared her throat. She had never liked Lydia's relationship—if anyone could even call it that—with Aiden, but there was at least one benefit from it, other than Lydia's happiness. And it was that Lydia had a hold over him. If she could convince Aiden to not kill Derek, then maybe he had a shot at surviving.

Lydia looked at her like she was crazy. "Are you sure?"

"All day, I've been hearing warnings about Derek," she confessed, glancing at Ethan. "I don't know if he's going to survive or not, but if you can convince Aiden, maybe..."

"We'll turn against Kali," Ethan spoke up in agreement with her. "We won't let her kill Derek."

Lydia didn't think it over very long, but that was Lydia; she was brave. "Okay," she agreed and gave Olivia a quick hug. "Just be careful."

"No, you be careful," Olivia insisted; Lydia smiled at her and when she walked out the door with Ethan, she turned back to the others. "Okay, what's the plan?"

"Just grab anything," Scott told Stiles through the phone as he, Olivia, Allison, and Isaac got out of the elevator in Allison's building and headed to her apartment door. "Stiles, I'm not smelling your dad's boxers. Socks? Okay, I'll smell the socks."

He ended the call and as Allison unlocked the door, Isaac asked, "What about me?"

"See what you can find in my dad's closet," the door opened and they all filed in. "Anything with the strongest scent."

Allison opened the door to her dad's office and stopped in her tracks, making Olivia, who was right behind her, slam into her. In the office was Agent McCall and two deputies, waiting for them at the desk.

"Quite the arsenal your fathers got here, young lady," as McCall spoke, Scott came up behind Olivia and stared at his dad in shock. "Scott."

Scott carefully squeezed past Olivia and Allison to enter the room. "What are you doing here?"

"Following one of the only leads I have," McCall stood from Mr. Argent's desk chair. "Now, since I don't know where you've been, why don't you have a seat and we can talk? You too, Isaac."

Isaac, who had been hiding in the hallway, came and stood next to Olivia. "How do you know my name?"

"Your name's one of the few things I know," McCall told him. "To be honest, the rest of what's going on around here has be stumbling in the dark, even over the smallest clue."

"If you're trying to tell me that you don't have a clue, I learned that a long time ago," Scott glared at his dad.

"I'm really hoping to avoid the embarrassment of dragging my own son into an interrogation room," McCall said firmly, meaning business. "Really hoping."

Olivia, Allison, and Isaac entered the office. Scott and Isaac let Olivia and Allison take the chairs and stood behind them. None of them were taking this very seriously; Isaac was eating some Icebreaker mints, for crying out loud.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm more than a little disturbed," McCall admitted. "Not only by the number of missing parents, but the fact that it's Stiles' father, your father, and your mother."

Isaac shut his case of mints, popped one more into his mouth, and said, "Mine are both dead."

"Mine too," Olivia added, though, technically, that wasn't true. As far as anyone outside their little supernatural circle knew, Peter had disappeared from the long-term care unit in the hospital and had never been recovered.

"Save the cliché teenage apathy for your high school teachers," McCall glared at them. Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. What a dick. "The four of you know more than you're saying and I'm fully willing to keep you here all night if I have to."

"We don't know anything," Scott emphasized. "Stiles already told you that."

"And you can't keep us here," Olivia glared at the giant McCall, recalling some of the information her Uncle Thomas told her about his job. "Not without some kind of warrant."

Agent McCall gestured to the desk full of weapons. "I've got a desk full of probable cause."

Allison scoffed quietly and stood from her chair. "My father is a highly respected private security consultant and federally licensed firearms dealer. That means he has to own a few weapons," she told them as she stepped toward the desk. She pointed to a large crossbow and then a huge knife. "Like this one hundred and seventy-five-pound tactical crossbow or this carbon steel marine combat knife," she then poked at one of the handguns. ".50AE Desert Eagle..."

She stopped for a moment and hummed before picking up a smoke grenade. "A smoke grenade with pull-ring igniter," she pulled the ring and threw the grenade toward McCall and the deputies. "Go!"

Olivia, Scott, and Isaac all scrambled out of the office after her, ducking to avoid the smoke currently choking up McCall and the others. Olivia, Allison, and Isaac got into Allison's car and Scott sat on his motorbike and drove away from the apartment. They only stopped when they reached the woods, where a sign prohibited entrance to the preserve after dark.

As Olivia got out of the car, a scream ripped its way out of her throat. She didn't even notice that Isaac and Scott immediately covered their eyes, too focused on the feelings that overwhelmed her. Not only had Stiles gotten hurt—and she didn't know how, which worried her all the more—but Lydia was screaming and she felt everything her cousin felt. Someone was dead, more than one person was dead.

"Olivia, what's wrong?" Allison grabbed Olivia's hands, which were covering her ears, and pulled them away from her head as she stopped screaming. "Olivia?"

"Stiles is hurt," Olivia croaked, her throat now in horrible pain from the combination of the garrote and the loud scream that had escaped her. "And Lydia, she screamed. Someone's dead."

"Is it Derek or Stiles?" Scott asked worriedly.

"No, I would have known if it was," the tether that connected her with Derek wasn't lit and Stiles was, though it wasn't a dangerous feeling that came from it. "It's someone else. Maybe one of the alphas."

"I'll call Stiles and you can call Derek," Isaac offered.

Olivia nodded in agreement and pulled out her phone, quickly pressing on Derek's contact to call him.

"Ollie, what's wrong?" Derek answered a hint of panic in his voice. "We were on out way out of Beacon Hills when we heard Lydia scream."

"I think one of more of the alphas are dead," she told him. "Are you okay? Did you get out in time?"

"We did," Derek confirmed. "but we're heading back to the loft now to check on Lydia. I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay, be careful, both of you," Olivia bit the inside of her cheek. "Love you."

"Love you, Ollie," both Derek and Cora chorused before ending the call.

"I didn't get anything from Stiles," Isaac walked up to her side, giving her a worried look. "Did you get Derek?"

"Yeah, he's okay for now. He and Cora are going back to the loft to check on Lydia," Olivia told him as Scott and Allison walked over to them. "What if Stiles...?"

"He's not," Scott tried to comfort her. "I don't get it, though."

"Well, we can't wait for him," Isaac decided. "Come on."

They all turned away from the vehicles, only to come face-to-face with Deucalion. "You're cutting it a little close, aren't we, Scott?"

"We got a little delayed," Scott informed him. "Where are the others?"

They knew that one of them, if not all three of them, had died. When Deucalion spoke, he only confirmed it, unbeknownst to him. "Occupying themselves with other pursuits."

Olivia inhaled deeply and steeled her nerves, speaking up, "Well, I've come with Scott to join you. If you'll still have me, of course."

God, I can't believe I'm sucking up to a blind, psychotic, alpha werewolf, she lamented privately.

"Of course, you're still welcome," Deucalion said pleasantly. "You, Scott, and I will made a good team."

Olivia exchanged a nervous look with Scott before he turned to Allison and Isaac. "Okay, get Stiles and then get to the root cellar, okay?" he told them. "We'll keep Jennifer away long enough for you to get them out of there."

"How are you gonna do that?" Isaac wondered.

"I have a plan."

"Sir," Olivia spoke up uncomfortably. "Uh, Mr. Deucalion."

"Please, just call me Deucalion, Olivia," he chuckled pleasantly as they walked through the woods, heading to an unknown location.

"Deucalion, right," she corrected herself, ignoring the half-amused look that Scott was giving her. "I just wanted to know why you wanted me as part of your pack. I mean, other than the fact that I'm an anchoram."

"Anchorams are rare, as you likely know. But what you may not know, is that they are immensely powerful. You've harnessed most of your powers, yes?" he glanced at her, even though he most likely couldn't see her (Scott had told her what Gerard told him about Deucalion; he wasn't always blind).

"Some. I can calm a werewolf down if they're losing control, or use that same ability against them during a fight," Olivia shared her progress. "I know when my pack members are in danger or close to death and I know how to locate them."

"But's only for your pack mates," Deucalion said knowingly. "One day, when you master those abilities, you'll go on until you've unlocked them all."

"What do you mean?"

"At the height of your powers, you will be able to locate any supernatural creature in the world. You'll be able to use their strengths against them, like you do for werewolves now. You can physically make a werewolf lose their lycanthropy, making them human again," Deucalion listed, the most recent ability making Olivia and Scott shared a look of shock. "And, of course, using the banshee side of you, you will be able to predict the death of anyone you hold dear to your heart, not just your pack mates. Every anchoram is different, though."

She could hardly believe the magnitude of her abilities. In all honestly, it sounded like a lot. Maybe too much. "How do you know all of this?"

"My great-great-great-grandmother's mother was an anchoram," Deucalion told her. "Her name was Marguerite Richardson, nee Hale."

Olivia looked at him in surprise. "We're related?"

"Very distantly. I used to be great friends with your aunt."

"Wow."

She honestly didn't know how to react to that.

She and Deucalion fell silent and the three of them continued walking. The storm got progressively worse the more they walked on. The wind was strong, the rain felt like glass against their skin, and it was so dark Olivia was having trouble seeing, using only the outlines of Scott and Deucalion to keep going.

Finally, though they entered a distillery. The one that Derek and Paige used go when they wanted private time.

"You said you had a plan," Deucalion reminded Scott once they were under the protection of the metal roof.

"On the first day of class, Jennifer sent all of us a message. It was the last line from Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness," Scott told him. "I got a message of my own to send to her."

He proceeded to take out his phone and gave it to Olivia so she could film him. He stood in front of the revenge symbol that they all had seen many times before, and Olivia started filming.

"See this symbol?" he pointed at the swirl all the while glaring at the camera. "It's a symbol of revenge. You talk about balance, about saving people? We know what you really want...And now, you know where to find us."

Olivia stopped filming and handed the phone back to Scott, who sent the message to Jennifer right away.

"And now, we wait," Deucalion sighed.

They only waited ten minutes until they came. Yes, they; Derek was with Jennifer. It confused the hell out of Olivia. Was Jennifer forcing him onto her side? Was he actually on her side? Was he acting like he was on Jennifer's side to catch her off guard while he was really on their side?"

"Derek," she breathed. "what are you doing?"

"This might be hard to believe, but I'm actually trying to help you both," Derek eyed her and Scott meaningfully.

He was fooling Jennifer, he was actually on their side—not Deucalion's, Olivia's and Scott's side.

"Ooh, like brother against brother...and sister," Deucalion commented, almost tiredly. "How very American this is," he faced Jennifer as he brought together his seeing cane. "Are you ready, Jennifer, hmm? Did you gather your herbs, pray to your ancient gods and your oak trees, slit a baby's throat, perhaps? Should we show them why you needed to sacrifice nine innocent people just to face me? ...Or is it twelve now?"

Deucalion's eyes glowed red and his wolf features appeared on his face. Surprisingly, Derek was the one to make the first move. He swiped his arm at him, but Deucalion simply grabbed the arm, and then the other one. With Derek trapped, Jennifer went up to the plate. Using whatever powers she had, she threw them at Deucalion, expecting them to work.

Except they didn't.

As Scott slipped something into Olivia's hand, she closed her eyes and brought up her tether map. She found Deucalion easily this time, in between Derek's bright blue and Scott's orange tethers. It didn't surprise her, since Deucalion was clearly the most powerful werewolf she'd come across—it made since that he was easy to find. What would be hard, however, was fighting to use his control against him.

She heard grunts and groans from Jennifer and Derek as she focused on Deucalion's deep red dot, which was also larger than her the other werewolves she had come across. Despite how tired she was, both physically and mentally, she used all the power she had left to hit his dot with her bright purple blasts. She hit him but he actually was able to push back against her, forcefully making her take a step back.

She gritted her teeth and raised her hands toward him. She felt her power build within her and she projected it toward him. For a second, just a second, his features started to fade, long enough for Derek to knock him over. Then he was back up and throwing Derek across the distillery and then stomping toward Jennifer and lifting her up by the neck.

He forced her down on her knees in front of Scott. "Kill her," he ordered Scott, his voice demonic. "Do it."

Scott didn't move, though, and that pissed Deucalion off. He roared loudly, so powerfully that Olivia had to fight to stand and Scott dropped to the floor, his wolf features out on display.

"Now kill her," Deucalion demanded once again. "Your parents are dying. That storm you hear, she's burying them alive. It's her connection to the telluric currents. Kill her and it ends."

"It won't end," Jennifer objected forcefully. "Not with me. He'll have you kill everyone you love. It's what he does."

"They're dying, Scott," Deucalion tried to get Scott back on his side. "Your mother and the parents of your best friends. Kill her now and it's over. Become the alpha you were meant to be. Become a killer."

"Scott."

The firm way in which Olivia said her friend's name made him stiffen. She knew that she had given him some control over the shift that Deucalion forced upon him. They both knew that if Scott killed Jennifer, he would no longer be a true alpha. And that was exactly what Deucalion wanted from him.

Scott glared at Deucalion. "They're not dead yet."

"Who's going to save them? Your friends?"

Scott shook his head and said determinately, "My pack."

Deucalion looked at him for only a moment before he threw Jennifer to the side and raced over to Scott, snarling furiously. He grabbed one of Scott's clawed hands and held it up, forcing him to hold it out.

"Maybe you just need a little guidance," he gritted through his teeth, guiding him over to Jennifer.

At once, Olivia had her hands up again, the arrow tip that Scott had given her, which he snagged from Allison's apartment, in one hand. She pulled together her power. Her anger and fear and all that anxiety that had piled up inside adding to it.

She screamed as her power blasted itself into her tether map and right at Deucalion's dot. His grip on Scott immediately faltered so much that Scott managed to free himself and he staggered, blinking rapidly. \

"Scott!"

"I forgot to tell you something," Scott spoke loudly over the grunts that Deucalion forced out of his lips while he struggled to fight off Olivia's attack. "Something that Gerard told me. Deucalion isn't always blind."

At the same time as Scott, Olivia threw her arrowhead at the concrete by Deucalion's feet. Both of the arrowheads were flash bolts; they lit up at contact and Deucalion practically fell on the floor. Olivia winced at the bright light, obviously effected by the bolts, but not like Derek, Scott, and Deucalion were, and dropped her hands, more than a little tired out.

It didn't help that the lunar eclipse had started. Like werewolves lost their power during the eclipse, it appeared that she did too. She leaned one hand against the wall as Derek ran over to her, allowing him to steady her.

On all three werewolves, their features had gone away.

"The eclipse," Deucalion stumbled to his feet. "it started."

They all noticed that Jennifer was gone at the same time. As they all looked over to the entrance of the distillery, Scott whispered, "Oh, no."

Jennifer dramatically entered the distillery, her disguise of a beautiful face gone. She was also wearing a completely different outfit from before, which was pretty weird. Olivia didn't know how she changed within a minute and she had to admit she liked the outfit Jennifer was wearing before more than the one she was wearing now.

She shrieked as she held a handout to Scott and threw him against the wall. She didn't make a move toward Olivia, which had to do with the fact that she was leaning against Derek, but went straight to Deucalion. He fell to the floor and Jennifer was there beside him within a second, grabbing his head and bashing it against the concrete repeatedly.

Blood had started pouring out of the wound at the back of Deucalion's head and his eyes rolled back into his head before Derek interfered. "Jennifer!" she stopped and looked back at him. "He doesn't know."

"Know what?" she growled back at him.

"What you really look like," Derek told her. "He knows the cost of bringing Kali into his pack, but he's never seen the price you paid."

Jennifer paused for a full minute. "No. No, he hasn't," she said finally before turning her attention to Deucalion. She placed her hand over Deucalion's eyes and she must have healed them because he started to scream in pain. When Jennifer released him from her grip and stood up, she ordered him, "Turn to me. Turn to me!"

When Deucalion turned to face Jennifer, his blue eyes were no longer cloudy. Honestly, he didn't react too badly to Jennifer's real face. It didn't seem to be therapeutic for Jennifer like she thought it would be. She changed back to her fake face and pulled her right arm back to finally kill the alpha.

But instead, she faltered. Derek let go of Olivia, gesturing over at Scott to take his place since she didn't have much of her energy back, and walked over to Jennifer and caught her.

"What is this?" she asked weakly.

"Healing him made you weak, just like healing Cora did to me," Derek informed her. "You won't have your strength for at least a few minutes."

"Then you do it," Jennifer's voice broke. "Kill him."

"No."

She looked at Derek, surprised, while Olivia smiled proudly. "What?"

"Like my mother used to say, I'm a predator. I don't have to be a killer," Derek moved his hand from her back up to her neck, squeezing it tightly. "Let them go."

Jennifer struggled with his grip and gained enough of her strength back to throw Derek a few feet away from her. He landed against a random bale of hay and raced to him, punching him forcefully in the face, two times, then three times.

Olivia threw herself out of Scott's arms and into the line of fire. She pushed Derek away, knowing that the eclipse would end at any second, and received the blow that was meant for him to the face. Her head reared by from the hit, but she managed to kick Jennifer away from her.

At that moment, Olivia felt her powers rush back into her body. It felt like a vibration. Something that she had gotten so used to being there, she hadn't noticed it. The eclipse was over and Derek and Scott had their powers back—and so did Deucalion.

Derek flew through the air and hit Jennifer, holding her against the floor. "Your fifteen minutes are up."

Jennifer managed to get up and dodged the attack that Scott gave her. Before either of them do anything else, she had taken some mountain ash from her pocket and threw it around her, creating a barrier that would protect her from Scott, Derek, and Deucalion.

"Like I told you, Derek, either you or the parents," Jennifer said nastily. Apparently all of her "love" for Derek was gone. "Well, I guess I'll just have to take them now. In a few minutes, they'll be dead and I won't need a lunar eclipse, even to kill a demon wolf."

Derek and Olivia exchanged a horrified look. By the time they looked away, Scott had stormed over to the circle of mountain ash and held his hands up, pushing them against the supernatural barrier between him and Jennifer.

"You've tried this before, Scott," Jennifer taunted him. "I don't remember you having much success."

Scott pushed harder at the barrier, his body leaning further and further into it. Blue light streaked past his body as he broke into it, getting a hand through. The more he pushed through the barrier, the brighter his tether looked in Olivia's head, until finally, it turned a deep, alpha-werewolf red.

The barrier fell apart. Scott was an alpha.

Jennifer had fallen to the floor from the small eruption that occurred when the mountain ash barrier broke. She frantically crawled away from Scott, looking up at him with horrified amazement. "How did you do that?"

Scott glowered down at her. "I'm an alpha now," he said powerfully. "Whatever you're doing to cause this storm, make it stop or I'll kill you myself. I don't care what it does to the color of my eyes."

"It won't change the color of mine, so allow me," Deucalion growled as he strode past Scott. With one swift move, he threw his clawed hand forward and slit the length of Jennifer's throat. She choked on her own blood and she slumped down onto the ground, dead. Olivia was not reluctant to admit that she was glad to see Jennifer dead.

As soon as Jennifer's heart stopped, the storm above them ceased. Olivia slowly reached for her pocket, the blood loss from the blow she received on her face from Jennifer making her sluggish, and called Stiles, hoping that he and everyone else was uninjured and safe.

"Olivia?"

"Hi," Olivia sighed in relief from just hearing his voice. "are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay," he confirmed. "We're all okay. What about you and Scott, are you okay?"

Olivia glanced at Scott and Derek, who stood close together discussing something. "Sort of."

"Do you think you and Scott could come and get us?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Great," Stiles huffed out a laugh. "And, uh, bring a ladder."

"I'll get right on that," Olivia giggled. "Hang tight. We'll be there soon."

Derek walked over to her as she ended the call, bent down, and helped her to her feet. He wrapped an arm around her and let her lean all of her weight against him while they walked over to Scott, who was standing in front of Deucalion with a stern look on his face.

"My mother told me you were a man of vision once," Derek told Deucalion, his voice strong. "We're letting you go because we hope you can be that man again."

"But if you're not, then having your eyesight back won't matter," Scott threatened him. "because you'll never see us coming."

With that, the three of them turned around and left the distillery.

Unfortunately, Olivia ended up in the hospital once everything was over. Because of Jennifer's strength, she had a concussion and the bruising around her neck was worse than she, or anyone, thought. She only stayed for one night and by the next morning, she was itching to get out of there. She wasn't a fan of hospitals, especially Beacon Hills Memorial—no offense meant to Melissa.

That morning, only two hours before Natalie was supposed to come and get her checked out, Derek and Cora interrupted her and Stiles' conversation. Just by the looks on their faces, she didn't like what they were going to tell her.

Yeah, she really didn't like it.

Cora was the first to speak. "Ollie—"

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" Olivia interrupted her, recognizing the guilt on her face.

"I am," Cora confirmed with a slight nod. "With Derek no longer an alpha and Boyd gone...I can't stay. I don't really...get along with your friends."

Olivia frowned but ultimately, she knew Cora had found a good life down in South America where she had been living for the past six and a half years. She was going to miss her fiercely, especially since she just discovered that she was alive, but she had to let Cora go so she could be happy.

"You'll call, right?" Olivia asked finally.

"Of course I will," Cora leaned forward and gave her a goodbye hug. "I love you, Ollie."

"I love you, too," she said as Cora pulled back. She looked at Derek and added, "Let me guess, you're going with her."

"Just dropping her off," Derek corrected her. "Peter's coming too."

"And you're coming back?" she checked, a little worried that they wouldn't be back and she'd lose her Hale family members all in one go.

Derek heard her heart start to race. "We'll come back," he confirmed taking her head and squeezing it. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you," Olivia finished the quote, thanking whatever supreme being that was out there for Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, and the friendship that came out of Captain America: The First Avenger. "I love you, Der."

"I love you, too, Ollie," he promised. "We'll send Stiles back in. Remember what I told you—"

"Wear a condom, yeah I got it."

"Actually, I was going to remind you about the pepper spray and rape whistle."

"Get out of here!" Olivia took the paper cup she had been drinking out of and threw it at Derek, who caught it easily.

Derek laughed and he and Cora left the room, giving her one last goodbye. Her smile slipped from her lips as she watched them walk away, but she wasn't able to be sad for long. Stiles had waltzed right back into the room and took his seat on the chair next to her bed.

"So," he grinned at her. "We defeated Jennifer and Deucalion is no longer his evil self. You know what that means?"

"No, but I bet you're going to tell me," she smiled back at him.

Stiles chuckled. "I am. It's time to get engaged."

"Ha! Very funny, sweetcheeks."

(Gif is not mine)

#teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x original character

26 notes · View notes

bitch-i-migth-be · 4 years

Text

Crash Course | Chapter 06: That one weird uncle-godfather-almost-parent-figure-thingy that refuses to go away because you're a walking disaster and they love you to pieces (sometimes literally)

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman,

Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Vlad Masters,

Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Random ghosties mentions *boo*, Vlad Fucking Masters Everyone, OC.

Words: 5′195

Tags: Sibling bonding, Shenanigans, Swearing, Quasi Family dinners, cuddling, ghost core shenanigans, OC, Ghost King Danny, Vlad being vlad

Chapter Summary: Vlad.exe has started ‘the scheming’. These kids are tired. And another agent of Chaos is here.

A/N: I can’t believe I can get away with using that title.

Why is no one stopping me?

As the writer, I reserve the right to withhold information for now. Remember what I said about taking liberties?? Yeah, still doing that. Roll with me, pls-

Good news! This and another chapter more before Gotham! Fucking finally.

-.-.-.-

THIS IS ON AO3, IF ANYONE WOULD PREFER TO READ THERE. LOVE COMmENTs so if u have anything to say IwillBeReallyHappyYesThankU

CHAPTERS: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

-.-.-.-

Vlad considered himself a man of simple pleasures.

If something caught his attention and would make him happy then he went and got it.

Not caring about what other people might think about his choices. If his happiness was on the line what other people had to say was irrelevant. Unless said people were influential enough to affect his future, in which case he had to tread carefully. But he never gave up on what he had put his sights on.

This way of thinking had accompanied him since he was a young lad and It didn’t seem like it was going to change anytime soon. If his experience with Jack and Maddie hadn’t made the trick he didn’t know what possibly could.

At the time, meeting Jack Fenton at the University of Wisconsin had opened the door to new possibilities. The man got so pumped up that he seemed to exude cheer all over the place, it was a sharp contrast to the dull family Vlad had left behind in his search for higher education, for something better than the leftovers they hoped would make him happy.

What Jack brought to the table was new. A field of study no one had ever researched before, not like this, not with proper scientific evidence.

So he had let himself get dragged along. Just to see what it was like. A shot in the dark, so to speak.

It was enough to intrigue him.

To the point that Vlad, who until that point was gunning for a major in business, had upgraded to a double major to include engineering, with a personal-extra-side of whatever the hell he needed to know to make sense of the things Jack kept spouting around like a complete madman.

With the proper knowledge, and even more intrigued, Vlad had come to realize that while Jack seemed like a goofball at first sight, there was some backbone to his theories. That had just sealed the deal.

And then Maddie came along. crashing into them with all the brilliance of a shooting star.

Madeline, who had been the cherry on top. Beautiful, passionate, and headstrong. Well on her way to becoming an amazing engineer with the meanest right hook Vlad had ever seen.

He had become infatuated. It was almost laughable how hard he had hit the ground running with that one.

It went downhill from there with him none the wiser.

They had shared hopes and dreams with Vlad in a way not even his blood family had. Become his best and only friends. And he was sure that with time and careful planning Madeline could become more.

Could anyone blame him for thinking this could be what a true family was like? For thinking that this was it.

They had been his everything, and as such he would have done anything within his power to lay the world before them.

Which made their betrayal hurt deeper.

He had failed to see, as submerged as he was in his little happy bubble and the research, the growing distance between them and him, the sneaking around, the way they had started to look at each other. The distraction that had lead to mistakes

Irreversible mistakes.

Ones they hadn’t stuck around for.

He had been a complete mess after that.

He had carried on. Once out of the hospital he has persevered and achieved everything that got on his way, and if he used a little bit of ghostly help that was no one’s business but his. And maybe he would have been happy with that, but there was always that little thorn that seemed to be stuck to his core. He had tried to play the fool. It hadn’t worked. And it wasn’t even his style, to begin with.

So when the opportunity presented itself to try and fix some of what he had lost in the past, he took it.

He had planned to barge in guns blazing. And he did. But he hadn’t been expecting the pair of scrawny teens he had been presented with. Much less for one of them to have been subjected to the same affliction that haunted his days. Just that the brat had it worse because it had been his parents who had half-killed him and not his best friends.

Vlad would find out later about what exactly happened in the Fenton’s basement and laugh bitterly while sipping cognac because that made it even more ironic.

He had thought about it long and hard. And decided to accept the child as his apprentice and honorary son. The kid was in urgent need of some proper training. A pair of meals for him and his sister wouldn’t hurt either — as blind as he had been back then, he was coherent enough to still recognize the mistake that was letting either of his ‘friends’ in the kitchen. — He was deliberately choosing to disregard their parent’s crime in order to help them.

He was amicable like that. Kind, even.

If only the ungrateful little badger cooperated.

jasmine, who had eventually realized what exactly was going on — The man had seen it coming from miles away, the girl was smart and her disaster of a brother kept stumbling around town as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was distressing to witness. — and not just the surface passive-aggressive way they sniped at each other in public, would help him realize that he had been going all wrong about approaching Daniel.

He had been treating him like he used to treat the boy’s parents

The older Fentons had never treated him seriously, so he always had to find dramatic ways to make them go along with what he wanted. Come to think of it, he had done that with a lot of people…

So, he had unconsciously regressed to his college years. Never a good stage to revive. It had obviously led straight to disaster, and he might or might not have neglected his business in the meantime. Thankfully, Jasmine had taken it upon herself to snap him out of it. Trying to run for mayor in a town in the middle of nowhere. Him. A goddamned Billionaire. What was he even thinking?

Obsessions were a dangerous thing. He would need to be more careful in the future.

To summarize, Jasmine had been, as much as it pained him to accept it, most helpful in their little chats on how to deal with teenagers.

Now, he realized, the desire to keep striving for his beloved Madeline’s hand was putting a dent in his interactions with the little badger, and even his sister would show reluctance if he went a little too far. And if he wanted to educate this childr- child, educate this child properly, that was not going to help him to accomplish his goals.

He was a businessman. He knew when risks were acceptable. Knew what investments would not be profitable.

There was a reason he had managed to convince the University of Wisconsin to finance their research when there wasn’t any concrete proof of ghosts, a reason he had managed to become a millionaire. Other than sleight of hand. That is.

In the end, the final choice was pretty obvious.

Having his obsession slowly shift targets after meeting the kids had been quite the experience.

Especially because he, self-made billionaire, the man on top of everything, who had fingers in all of the biggest pies out there, The Vlad Masters Himself, had not seen it coming.

-.-.-.-

Vlad would love to say he exhorted the best place to eat out of the boy. But really. Once Vlad said he was paying Daniel was more than happy to shoot for the tastiest and expensive things the siblings normally couldn’t afford. Jasmine was not openly contributing to her brother’s effort to suck him dry of money, but she was not stopping him either.

He didn’t have any proof those two could communicate telepathically but by this point, he felt he didn’t need any. They probably had some sort of silent signals. The sneaky little shits.

The man didn’t mind. Not really. He got the brats all for himself, after all. It was a win-win situation.

“So,” he started with a hum “What happened with the box ghost?” Vlad inquired

The boy glared at him. Vlad smirked. Jasmine was making a great job at feigning deafness while looking completely done with them.

“I dealt with him accordingly.”Danny glowered, stabbing his burger with a fork. The billionaire wasn’t sure if that was meant to make a point or the teen went feral on automatic these days even with his food. “The fuck, Vlad. I thought we were in peace mode.”

“Excuse you, child. I didn’t have anything to do with that. It was just making a simple question.” Which was mostly true, Vlad wouldn’t lower himself to the point of using such an annoying ghost as a lackey. He just liked to poke fun at little badger “And even if I had, that was before I called a truce. It would have been completely valid.”

Daniel just grumbled, conceding the point, and continued mangling the food on his plate. The little heathen.

Having lost the attention of the boy, he took a sip of his drink and turned to look at the other sibling.

“You convinced them to do your research in ghosts, hm?”

“Not like it was hard.” she was eating at a more sedate pace than her brother, but still a little faster than would be considered appropriate in polite company. “Thanks to a pair of someones.” she sniffed at them. Danny smiled at her but kept his mouth closed and otherwise occupied with food. Vlad just hummed in quiet approval.

“Good job.” then he frowned. “But also, why?”

“Why what?”

“Not the best place you could have chosen to do that, is it now?”

“Maybe not the most agreeable, no.” She conceded, reaching over to take a napkin. “But it is the best place for my purposes.”

“Why though?” He insisted, hoping for a proper explanation.

“Why not?” she retorted, the picture of innocence taking another bite. Vlad sighed and rolled his eyes, he kept forgetting she could be as bad as her brother sometimes.

“Does it matter, old man? We are going anyway.” Daniel finally joined the conversation again, waving one of his french fries in an extremely judgy manner in Vlad’s direction “I didn’t pull all those strings in the zone for you to come complaining and think we are backing down just because you don’t like it.“

“Oh ho, strings, you say?” Vlad mocked, “Would that have anything to do with the reason why Skulker came to me seeking refuge with his tail between his legs?”

Daniel almost choked on his next bite. Enough that Jasmine started looking worried, most likely about whether or not she would have to use the Heimlich on him. She relaxed when her brother finally sucked some air into his lungs just to immediately start laughing.

“It does have some relation, yes” Jasmine took over for her brother, seeing as he was too busy making an impression of the lion king’s hyenas. It was a good thing they were in the more private part of the restaurant. “We, um, had to get creative.”

Vlad just raised both his eyebrows at her, and with a background of her brother’s cackles, she finally acceded to give in some ground.

“I have a theory, and frankly, it would be faster if I do this in Arkham. For a bunch of reasons I don’t feel comfortable discussing at the moment.” Jasmine offered, “Plus, seeing as Danny is insisting on tagging along and at the moment he can’t really afford to leave Amity for longer than necessary-” Hearing that made Daniel come back from his endless snickering.

“Hey! don’t try to pin this on me. This was all you-!”

After that, a free for all started between the siblings and Vlad stopped listening, feeling honest to the ancients offended. Couldn’t afford to leave longer? Please, Vlad could fix that in a jiffy, they just needed to ask- but nooo, the brats always had to go to the extremes for everything.

Although Vlad had to admit that Jasmine most likely had good reasons — If Daniel had said it, he wouldn’t even contemplate the validity of such a loose statement — for saying it would be faster doing it in Gotham- ugh, he had to stop himself from sneering just at the mention of the place.

He had decided to open a branch office for one of his companies in the damned city and it had been nothing more than a headache in the last years. He had opted to send people over from the other branches to take care of everything rather than hiring people from Gotham to fill the spots available.

After a pair of months of operations, it had become obvious that the place wasn’t working as smoothly as any of his other offices all over the world.

It seemed like his employees didn’t have the spine to deal with the city’s threats properly. And hiring more Gothamites, who were guaranteed to have a spine on behalf of being raised in the place, would just make the mess bigger without him there to supervise.

Which he hadn’t had the time to do.

Come to think of it, the only reason he hadn’t taken it into his own hands was because-

His train of thought stopped right in its tracks, eyes snapping open as he took a long look at the kids in front of him.

They seemed to have stopped discussing at some point, but the teenaged halfa was currently trying to steal some food from the plate of the young lady at his side. His sister, on retaliation, was moving her fork in an exaggerated stab motion to discourage her thieving little brother.

“Oh,” he uttered under his breath, as good as speechless and unable to take his eyes off them.

I didn’t take matters of Gotham into my own hands because of them.

The thought, and the implications that came along with it, struck him so suddenly that they left him startled enough to start laughing without care for present company.

Oh, this was too good!

Daniel was watching him warily. As if Vlad showing any kind of amusement was a sign of danger. Which, considering, was fair enough.

Jasmine just took the opportunity the distraction lent her to keep eating peacefully before her brother got any other funny ideas about food-thievery.

Vlad put his elbow on the table, interlacing his fingers so he could rest his chin on the joined hands, smirking and allowing himself to let out some random chuckles from time to time. Seeing the boy get all ruffled up was fun. Especially when he hadn’t done anything yet.

‘Yet’ being the keyword.

Oh, this was going to work perfectly after all.

-.-.-.-

After eating their fill and doing some more quasi civilized talking they finally got some dessert and the siblings took the opportunity to order some take-out to have for breakfast. It was never a bad thing to secure food beforehand, and Vlad had seemed agreeable enough.

Way too agreeable if you asked Danny. But food was food, and there wouldn’t be no looking at horses’ mouths in this household, no sir.

Vlad said his goodbyes claiming to have urgent business to attend to, and vanished into the night like the dramatic pseudo-vampire-ghost he had always aspired to be.

Why the man had bothered to come all the way to Amity Park if he had work to do was beyond Danny, but good riddance. His random giggles were starting to creep him out.

Once he was sure the fruit loop was not coming back and they were truly alone on the sidewalk, the teen turned around to his sister and found her stifling a yawn on her hand. A quick look at his phone confirmed that it was already pretty late, and having a full stomach always made Jazz get all lethargic on him. He would too, but that was why he consumed coffee religiously, unlike his sister who preferred the occasional vitamin drink.

So he resigned himself to playing pack mule yet again and let her lean on him so they could start their trek back home. A trek that would be slow as fuck, because Jazz kept insisting on using him as a pillow while they walked rather than focusing on using her feet properly.

She was lucky he loved her and had ghost cheat codes to support her weight, otherwise the night would have ended very differently.

Danny huffed and let her snug closer to him.

Now they just needed to sneak into the house without alerting their parents.

Yey.

-.-.-.-

Jazz had to give it to Danny, he was the best cuddle partner she could have asked for in a brother.

Though she could admit that her brother’s temperature could fluctuate wildly sometimes while sleeping because of his ghost-core-thingy or other random ghost power, whichever it was at the time had made it a little awkward for them to share sleeping quarters when one of them needed the comfort.

Luckily, they had found ways to deal with the temperature clashes. In summer it was easier to deal with them because in that season her brother’s often chilly nature was a complete godsend. Winter was trickier but there was nothing a pair of isolation blankets couldn’t manage, and when Danny’s powers decided to be contrary and transform him into a living heater, Jazz was more than happy to take advantage of it.

They had a few space blankets too, Jazz was pretty sure Vlad had gotten those just for Danny, but her brother had been rather tight-lipped about them, even if he clearly loved them.

So here they were, sprawled on the bed with Jazz’s arms firmly around her brother’s waist and half her face buried against his upper chest, rejoicing in the coolness emanating from the spot.

She had been awake for a little while but couldn’t make herself let go of her little bro. After they had sneaked in — after Danny had half-dragged her in — they had ended up crashing in her room. This for two important reasons, first because Danny’s room was still a mess after their parents threw all the equipment they could their way, and second because she had refused to let go of her newly acquired pillow. So her bedroom it was.

Ugh, she would get hungry eventually and would have to go downstairs for their breakfast effectively separating her from the cuddles. Jazz released a little grumble and buried herself deeper into the embrace.

The only up-side was that she would only have to heat their food and not make it from scratch. As long as she managed to avoid their parents and make it back upstairs she could rejoin her brother without interruptions and-

“Good morning, Princess Jasmine! ”

Wha-?

Jazz lifted herself and turned her head towards the voice so fast she immediately regretted it. There went her neck. she winced and raised a hand to carefully massage her nape. It would never work the same way again. At least she could see the source of the unfamiliar voice now and it left her perplexed.

There was a ghost on the window sill.

Why was there a ghost on their windowsill?

As a general rule, most ghosts tended to stay the fuck away from the Fenton house once they got out of the zone, so this development was very strange. Then again, Jazz had never seen this ghost before.

It was a female ghost, that was clear, and her hair-

Jazz had to blink a few times, completely awestruck at the number of colors her brain was trying to process at the same time.

She really had rainbow hair. What the-?

The apparent twenty-somethings female ghost had her hair done on a perfect half-up ponytail and displaying all the colors in the visible spectrum, she was clad in a cute summer dress that seemed to be patched up with- were those postage stamps? and a pair of lace-up sandals. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, a giddy smile stamped on her face. She was glowing. literally.

Meanwhile, Jazz had not bothered to change clothes before going to sleep or even tied her hair up into a bun, and now it looked like she had gotten trapped in one of her parent’s ghost traps. She managed to stifle the urgent need of running to the nearest mirror to tame down her hair as much as she could. She was feeling tacky all of a sudden.

Ugh. She felt like a hobo just looking at her. she had patches on her dress and she was still pulling it off. Maybe that was the ghost’s thing? making other girls felt like vagabonds with just her presence. Jazz blinked a pair of times, brain finally processing the other girl’s words, and becoming even more baffled by the living — animated? embodiment? — rainbow’s presence.

Had she just called her ‘princess’?

“Um, hi?” Jazz finally greeted her, she sent a look to her still slumbering brother and debated on whether or not she should wake him. On one hand, he had been running himself ragged the last weeks getting everything in order so she was reluctant to do it. On the other hand, there was a ghost on the window. A rather cute one, but still.

Choices. choices.

The redhead turned her whole attention towards the ghost again. Well, she looks calm enough, and has not set anything on fire or attempted any kidnapping yet, so-

“Sorry, I’m still rebooting. Do I know you?” Jazz went on, trying to get some sort of grip on the situation.

“Not really, but I have heard plenty about you.” the ghost beamed, just to falter suddenly and offer a chagrined smile “I must have seemed very rude.”

“My name is Iris.” She finally presented herself and jabbered on while pointing at the little cloth string bag resting on her hip. “I’m the Infinity Realms’ Official Messenger. And I have a few packages for both of you, my lady.”

“The Zone’s messenger?” Jazz parroted back. She had never heard about a messenger in the zone, but it was a rather big place and there were things even Danny hadn’t heard about, so it was a possibility. “And just Jazz is fine, thank you.”

The skittle girl just smiled. “Yes, I made the rounds earlier and there were some packages for the crown prince,” she said, confirming the reason for her presence in the room.

Ok. She could deal with ghosts addressing her brother with titles. And messengers? messengers were fine in her book. She could deal. She got this. Still-

“Danny was in the zone yesterday, though? Why would they wait until now and not just take advantage of his visit?”

“There are some fragile things in here, and your brother seemed to be getting- uh, quite busy yesterday,” she replied, clearly amused. “The senders didn’t want to risk it. So here I am!”

With that declaration, she opened her little bag and started to unload a staggering amount of packages and even some mail into neat little piles. Great, more things to pack. How some of them could get into such a tiny bag was a mystery, but that was probably just ghost zone physics. Or magic. Maybe both.

“Oh, thank you.” Jazz just conceded. It was better to just go along. Iris hummed in acknowledgment, still organizing everything and explaining to Jazz where each pile had come from and some extra information that the messenger had found interesting on her rounds.

She was quite lively for a ghost.

“Pandora in particular was rather twitchy yesterday about not catching your brother for a chat. Did you know she is having a gathering next month?” Iris gushed at her in low whispers, with all the air of a gossipy neighbor that couldn’t separate himself from their windows. “It’s a shame you will not be accompanying them for the festivities.”

“But Isn’t that just for amazons..?” Jazz asked from her seat on the foot of the bed, where she had moved to have a better view of the things the other ghosts had sent to Danny and her.

“Yes.”

“…I think I missed something.”

“Haven’t you heard?”Iris giggled. Getting a pen and notepad out of her bag and starting to write something down, she presumably used that to keep inventory. “You are both part of Pandora’s honorary amazons.”

The redhead’s eyes widened. “She can do that-?”

“I mean she is the Queen of the Amazons on this side of the pond, so-” the messenger replied, tapping her pen against her chin and looking up in thought.

“Wait, does that mean Tucker and Sam are honorary amazons too?” Jazz startled at the sudden sound of her brother’s voice coming from behind her. He was practically on top of her now, still looking half asleep but definitely awake now. She hadn’t even felt him move.

“Good morning, Lord Phantom!” Iris beamed at him from her spot on the ground among the still growing piles. “For what its worth, I think so, yes.”

Danny couldn’t help himself. He started cackling.

“Seriously, Danny?” She pursed her lips at him in disapproval.

“You don’t understand. They are going to flip, Jazz. Pandora can count me in.” He gushed, finally getting a hold of himself.

“She already did. Weren’t you listening to me, My Crown Prince?” Danny sighed.

“I did bubblegums. Sounds amazing.” her brother had already given her a nickname, or many for what she knew, so he probably had met the messenger before this. “So you were talking about some go-away gifts” Jazz sighed and rolled her eyes.

“They are called farewell gifts, Danny” jazz corrected.

“Whatever. It’s almost the same.” he waved his hand dismissively and looked down at what Iris had just laid down. “You got way too many things there. You are almost done or..? “

“Yep! I was actually just making time until you woke up.” She admitted sheepishly, lifting the last package that had come out of the bag and had been all by its lonesome amid the others and passing it along to the halfa. “Your Order is ready, Majesty!”

Jazz watched her brother extend a hand to take the package but his face reflected puzzlement at her words rather than excitement at finally receiving something he ordered.

“Direct from the FarFrozen and the Acropolis, Sir Casper!”

With those words, Danny seemed to snap wide awake, “already?” He didn’t waste any time in seating properly and opening the package. Jazz took the opportunity to peer into it.

“Jewelry?”

Danny jus hummed back in response and started examining the little jewelry box inside

“you ordered jewelry?” Jazz asked again, a little confused because even if his brother didn’t mind using the occasional accessory it was not like him to own them. Her brother —as well as herself — was more of a borrowing person “Ghostzone’s jewelry?”

“Yep.”

“why?”

“why not?” Jazz debated tackling him to the ground and tickling him until he talked, but considering they had company the redhead didn’t know very well yet and thus was not completely comfortable around, forcing Danny to spill the tea would have to wait.

The little shit probably knew it too and was openly smirking at her.

“hey, colorfalls?” Danny called to Iris

“Yes, winter pools?”

“Am I imagining things or this is way more than what I asked for?”

“The crafters outdid themselves, didn’t they? The Pan Queen said it happened because you ‘didn’t specify for shit so you better suck it up, brat.’ The Yeti-man said something too, but it was long and boring, so I forgot~” She ended sheepishly.

“Well, that’s helpful.”

“wouldn’t they have explained it in the letters?” Jazz offered, bringing his attention to the pair of envelopes under the probably-handcrafted box.

Danny grabbed them and grumbled. “Probably. But, ugh, reading.”

Jazz tried to snatch the letters from his hand. Danny dodged her lunge and moved the letters out of her reach.

“Thought you didn’t want to read them.” Jazz sassed.

“That I don’t want to do it, doesn’t mean I won’t do it. There is a difference, carrot cakes.”

“Well, get on with it then, cakesicle.”

They could have continued sniping at each other, as they were fully prepared to do so until Iris talked again.

“I better get going and leave you to it. Places to be, gossip to spread. You understand.” She declared with a playful smile and hopped up from the ground and attached her cloth bag to her hip again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Jasmine.”

She made her way to the window waving her goodbyes as she went, the siblings waved back a little entranced by the sway of her hair.

Danny looked thoughtful, he seemed unsure for a moment and ended up waiting until the last moment to call after her.

“Hey,” The girl turned around to raise an eyebrow at him in question. Danny smiled at her and pointed a finger towards her little cloth bag.

"Do you think I could get one of those?”

-.-.-.-

“Jazz”

“Yeah?”

“How long was she here for before I woke up?”

“She-” Jazz stopped herself and really thought about it. “I, I don’t actually now? I think she was already sitting on the window sill when I woke up”

Her brother had gone suddenly quiet, watching intently through the window Iris had just left.

“She has a- quite bubbly personality. Good to know there is someone like her around.” She offered, trying to break the tense silence that had enveloped them.

“I once saw her knock-out Walker from a single blow,” Danny replied, finally turning to look at his sister. Jazz’s eyes widened.

“She what?”

“He threatened the network.” Danny deadpanned. “One does not simply threaten the network, Jazz” he stressed, seemingly trying to make the importance of a network she didn’t know anything about very clear to Jazz.

“…That sounds really ominous.”

“She moves around human merchandise in the zone.” Danny explained, “She has- umm, I think you could say she has a thing for humans.”

“…”

“I’m not telling you this to make you wary of her.” Her brother said after the lack of a proper answer, carefully keeping eye contact with her. “Walker was being an ass, he deserved it. Jolly Beans is very helpful around the zone. Has even helped me with a pair of things. A real pal, she is. But-” Danny sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair in exasperation.

“Just- Just don’t mess with her gossip mags ”

-.-.-.-

“Hey, Danny?” She probed, going through one of the ‘care packages’ that had been sent to them, “Do you think the ghosts know humans don’t wear these types of clothing anymore? They are cute, but-”

“I’m going to tell them.”

“Don’t you dare.”

-.-.-.-

ENDNOTES:

Say hello to Iris, everyone :)

She is one of my agents of chaos. She got the Job 5 minutes ago when she bitch slapped me with her bag and the pOssIbiLItieS.

(Not to be confused with intrepid reporter, Iris West, that might or might not appear here. )

-.-.-.-

Me, writing about sciency stuff, major and double majors like I know what I’m talking about: seems legit.

-.-.-.-

It’s fucking sad when the reasons you used to love someone end up becoming the same reasons you end up hating them.

-.-.-.-

I don’t remember if Vlad used Boxy as a lackey? If he did, let’s pretend he didn’t.

-.-.-.-

Vlad to Danny and Jazz through all this fucking fanfic:

-.-.-.-

The moment when your weird-murderous-uncle is actually more responsive to your ‘How-To-Parent’ talks than your actual parents.

Press F to pay respects.

-.-.-.-

I just want to let you know that one of the reasons Danny curses like a sailor is because he has a great respect for Pandora and that woman puts sailors to SHAME.

-.-.-.-

Did the show care about historical accuracy? no. Do I? That’s also a no.

-.-.-.-

The ghost jewelry will come back later to bite all of us. Be patient.

-.-.-.-

Danny is the Elsa to Jazz’s Anna.

-.-.-.-

UPdate on the JJ Ship!

I just imagined Bruce looking at this tiny (but feral) red-head psychologist interning in Arkham and seeing how good she is for Jason and just pulling a Mulan’s Grandma when Jason asks her to have dinner with them, like:

“WoulD YouU like TO sTAy FOREVEr?!?”

And Dick with, like, a banner and streamers behind him, fully supporting the notion.

And-aND! then on the eventual-some-years-in-the-future-engagement party:

Jazz: “Jay? Seems your family invited someone to help us celebrate the engagement.” Jason: “Really? Who?” Jazz *Opening the door that leads to the Mansion’s garden that is currently full to the freakin’ brim and deadpanning*: “Gotham.”

{(And all the fucking league. Let’s be real people-)}

Can u Imagine the wedding? The absolute chaos?? If you think the ghosts aren’t crashing the party or even demanding to hold a ceremony in the zone u are a FOOL.

bECAUSE If DanNo is theIr HighKING, Guess who is their MoTHErFUCkING PRINCESS.

It’s what she deserves.

My god, Jazz would look so pretty in a wedding dress.

I’m crying.

Danny would definitely sob.

Send tissues.

-.-.-.-

Great.

Now I want to write about the wedding and they haven’t even met in here yet.

*wishful sighing*

The struggles of a shipper-

-.-.-.-

These goddamned endnotes are getting bigger and bigger.

-.-.-.-

I’m still thinking over Danny’s SO. Guess who. Yes. You are right. It’s the Demon Spawn. You KNOW who I mean. I didn’t make them be a year apart in age just for the giggles. Like, I was aiming for Bros Wreaking Havoc when I started this but then The Shipper Feels struck me dead plus-if-Jazz-is-getting-a-wedding-out-of-this-then-why-the-fuck-not and here we are. What do u think?? Because it’s most likely happening. Though, this one is going to burn slowly, because these boys.

And, wtf. Why didn’t anyone tell me Bruce and Selina almost got married?? I don’t know what happened to prevent it but I cAlL foUl.

Who wants a wedding. I want a wedding.

-.-.-.-

Me: Writes like 40 pages of this fic Also me: They are random scenes in different chapters and I’m still struggling to wrangle everyone into some sense of order and coherency.

The first twenty-something chapters already have titles and brief summaries so that’s something?? I can’t see the light at the end of this tunnel.

If you have ideas about things you would like to read about? Between the Bats and the DP Characters? Interactions and blabla? You can write them in the comments and I will see if I can fit some in :D

I have more or less decided where this is going, but I still need to enrich the chaps, SO, this might take a while. The good thing is that they will probably be way better now that I have Some Plot and I’m not just running blind all over the google doc.

-.-.-.-

Really, tho, if you have some headcanons about the characters? Bless. I need help with Steph and slightly less with Cass.

I have some plans for Cass. Steph is the one worrying me.

-.-.-.-

Chapter 9 will be their arrival to Gotham! I. am. happy.

24 notes · View notes