Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nico had had a rather uneventful morning. He was staying in the Underworld at his father’s palace, in lieu of staying at Camp Half-Blood. That particular morning, he had gotten up and had breakfast with his father, then retired to his room to read. It had been a good day so far.

Of course, it didn’t stay that way.

Nico’s bedroom door flew open, and a certain white-haired specter burst into the room. “Nico, oh my gosh, you’ve gotta help me, I need-”

“Woah, wait, what’s going on?” Nico asked bewilderedly.

Phantom slammed the door shut and ran his hands through his hair, his eyes wide and his expression fearful. “I seriously pissed him off this time!”

“Who?” Nico knew that Danny wasn’t afraid of many people, so he wondered who the ghost had angered so badly that he would be acting like this.

Danny’s green gaze bore into Nico’s eyes as he whispered: “Thanatos.”

Nico opened his mouth to respond, to ask Danny just how stupid he had to have been to anger the God of Death, but just then the doorknob turned.

Danny, who was still by the door, pressed himself against the wall and turned invisible. Nico gripped his book tightly in his hands and watched apprehensively as Thanatos entered the room.

Thanatos’ expression was unnaturally calm—even for him—as his gaze landed on Nico. “Hello, Nico. Is Daniel here?”

Nico didn’t know how to respond. What did Danny do? Do I want to be involved in this? Do I want to take the blame if I cover for him? He wondered. “Uhh… no. No, he’s not here.”

Thanatos’ eyes began to glow intensely as he regarded Nico’s nervous posture. “Hmm.” He hummed thoughtfully.

Without breaking eye contact, the god reached his arm out to the side, seemingly into the open air, and grabbed hold of something invisible.

Nico heard a terrified squeak.

“Are you absolutely sure that Daniel is not here?”

Nico wished that he hadn’t gotten involved.

Chapter Text

Danny POV:

It had been an accident. Danny had never meant for his parents to find out about his ghost half. He supposed it was likely that they would have found out eventually, but in the back of his mind he had hoped that they would accept him.

They didn’t.

His mother had pulled an ecto-gun on him. And stupidly, Danny hadn’t run. He had instead pleaded with her, insisting that he was still her son.

She had replied coldly that her son died in the portal accident.

And once again, Danny didn’t run. He stayed and begged. Begged for them to put down their weapons. Begged them to listen to him.

His father acted next, trapping him in a phase-proof net before Danny could even think to react. His parents dragged him kicking and screaming down to the lab, and it was then that Danny realized far, far too late that he needed to get away.

He scrambled to find a way out of this. He couldn’t phase through the net. Couldn’t break it, either. Maybe… maybe Thanatos could help—

Thinking quickly, Danny attempted to pull off his right glove. But he was too late. His parents ripped the net off of him, and next thing he knew he was being strapped to the cold, stainless steel table, his wrists and ankles bound painfully tight with anti-ecto leather straps that immediately began to burn his ghostly skin. He continued to plead with them, but his words fell on deaf ears. His parents didn’t even spare him a second glance as they turned away and began gathering their supplies.

Danny struggled against the restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. His heart began to pound frantically in his chest, his core whispering anxiously as he realized just how bad this situation was. Frick. Frickfrickfrick—

Danny screamed, his voice shattering the glass beakers and test tubes on the nearby shelves. He must’ve annoyed his parents, because his dad whirled around and clamped a hand over his mouth, pinning Danny to the table with an elbow to his throat for good measure. His mother hurried over with a syringe filled with a clear liquid that she quickly and clinically slid into his forearm.

A loud buzzing filled Danny’s mind, so loud that he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts as the medication quickly worked its way through his body, erasing all the tension from his muscles and leaving him lying listlessly against the table.

Stop! Danny silently screamed at his parents, who paid him no mind as they went back to setting up metal surgical trays on either side of the table, covered with various painful looking medical instruments and vials and test tubes. Why are you doing this? I’m your son! Stop. Stop! Please… stop!!!

Although his heartbeat had slowed to a sleepy, almost alarmingly slow pace (likely due to whatever he had been injected with), Danny’s core ached so terribly it felt like it was going to shatter. These were his parents. His parents. These were the people who were supposed to love him. Care for him. He had tried every day to do right by them—to make them proud. And they were supposed to be there for him, no matter what. No matter what he was, human or ghost. And yet…

Using a pair of metal shears, his mother cut open the front of his jumpsuit and pulled away the rubbery fabric, leaving his torso bare. His dad leaned over him, goggles over his eyes, scalpel in his hand, and Danny could only watch in terror, wanting to scream in pain as the blade sliced into his skin, right over his sternum. Of course, the shot his mother had given him hadn’t had any numbing agent; ghosts didn’t feel pain, according to his parents. And a ghost was all his parents saw him as.

He was completely motionless—unable to even flinch as the scalpel slid down his stomach, splitting the skin until it came to a stop just above his navel, sending searing, burning pain coursing through him. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear his parents muttering—medical and scientific terms that he didn’t understand. He wished he could cover his ears, or close his eyes, or do anything to shut them out.

But he couldn’t move.

He couldn’t do anything except lay there and watch.

Danny wished that somebody would save him. That Sam, or Tucker, or Jazz would throw open the basement door right that moment and free him from his restraints, help him escape and tell him that everything would be okay. Maybe Clockwork would freeze time, and make sure Danny was alright, and then turn the clock back to when his parents had never even found out, so that this would never happen…

Another bitter tear trickled down his cheek. Danny wished… he wished that Thanatos was there. He wished that Thanatos would give him a hug, and wrap his wings tightly around Danny, shielding him from the world and anything that could hurt him. Just until things were okay again…

A strange feeling in his core pulled Danny out of his thoughts. He wished it hadn’t. Everything hurt so bad. He could feel cold metal and gloved fingers inside his abdominal cavity, and he wished he could at least cringe away from it all. The quiet murmuring of his parents echoed around in his head; he couldn’t make out what they were saying, not that he cared to know.

Danny’s neck throbbed with an indescribable pain. His parents had been particularly interested in how his ghostly DNA had affected his “previously” human vocal cords, so they had taken a scalpel, a pair of forceps, and some other medical tools and set to work, intent and seeing how he differed from other ghosts.

A metal pan with a hard waxy substance coating the bottom was positioned under Danny’s head and neck. His throat had been sliced vertically from just under his jaw down to the top of his sternum, and then horizontally to just under each ear. Metal pins with wooden handles were stabbed through pieces of his throat tissue, holding it wide open so that his vocal cords could be seen and studied. A pair of forceps were clamped around something in his throat, but all Danny could see was the bloody handles—splattered with both red and green—twitching as his parents went about their business.

He wished his body would do him the courtesy of blacking out, that way he could at least not feel the torture he was currently going through. But he couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even blink. He wished he was at least numb to the pain, but the paralysis agent he had been injected with hadn’t offered any sort of sedative.

However, the shot hadn’t affected his core. His core, which was sitting in his open chest cavity, shuddering weakly under the cold air and harsh fluorescent lighting. His parents were waiting to experiment on his core—they were worried that his body would destabilize into ectoplasmic goop if they tried anything just yet.

His core felt like it had a mind of its own at the moment. He could hear it in his mind, chirping nervously as it shivered inside his chest, nestled right under his sternum. The cold it radiated brought him a faint sense of comfort, but through the haze of pain fogging his mind he could tell that something was different. The cold was stronger than usual—a burning sensation deep in his core—and he realized it was the feeling of his Spartan form. His core was trying to trigger the transformation, seeming almost desperate in its efforts.

Danny hadn’t used his Spartan form since his fight with Dan. Maybe it would work to break him from his restraints, but… he didn’t want to hurt his parents.

Why do I care about hurting my parents? After what they’ve done to me… what they’ve done to us…

Maybe… if he transformed, he could escape.

Mustering what little strength he could, Danny tugged weakly at his core. Green flames sparked to life almost instantly and engulfed his body, transforming him. Thankfully, the transformation closed the gaping cavities in his abdomen and neck and sealed all his viscera into their proper place, but the pain was still there, and spots danced across Danny’s vision as he pushed himself up. The flames had caught his parents’ jumpsuits and set them aflame, and—being too preoccupied in rushing to soothe their own singed flesh—they were unable to stop Danny from escaping through the open lab portal.

Several hours later found Danny floating through the Ghost Zone, delirious from pain and exhaustion. He didn’t know where he was trying to go, he just… needed to get away from his parents.

But… what was the point? Why was he even doing this? He could never go back home. Heck, he could probably never go back to Amity Park, period; his parents would be sure to hunt him down and finish what they started.

Danny brought his hands up to his chest, trying not to gag as he felt cold liquid dribble between his fingers, and sharp metal move painfully inside of him. In his hurry to escape, Danny hadn’t thought to try and remove the tools his… parents had been using. He had thought that he’d be able to stay in Spartan form long enough to get somewhere safe to deal with them, but he hadn’t been able to hold the form for longer than a few minutes. He could’ve tried holding onto it a little longer, but he knew that he couldn’t risk passing out and reverting to his human form—he wouldn’t survive without his ghostly healing factor. He had managed to keep the cuts in his abdomen shut for the time being, but it was taking all of his energy to keep his insides from becoming his outsides.

Coming to a stop, Danny blinked tiredly as he took in his surroundings. Through his blurry vision, he could see a tall, purple tower standing before him. He felt as if his core was guiding him to the building, gently tugging him towards it. His strength wavering, Danny all but collapsed as soon as his feet hit the ground of the floating island.

A blue ghost in a long purple cloak hurried out of the tower to meet him. Danny tried to speak, but the fresh blood and ectoplasm bubbling out of the gaping hole in his neck made that difficult.

Clockwork brought a hand to Danny’s face. “Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t speak.” He looked over Danny, his grimace deepening as he saw the extent of Danny’s injuries. “It’s okay, Daniel. We… we can fix this. You’ll be okay.”

Danny tried to speak again, but his breath caught in his throat and he coughed wetly as his knees gave out, blood and ectoplasm squirting from the slit in his throat onto the ghost in front of him and the ground below. Clockwork caught Danny before he could faceplant, gathered him up in his arms, and brought him into the clock tower. Clockwork began muttering, the same words over and over as Danny faded from consciousness.

“You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay…”

Thanatos POV:

As Thanatos was leaving from dropping off his latest group of souls at DOA Recording Studios, he was stopped by someone that he didn’t particularly like.

“Hello, Clockwork,” Thanatos greeted coolly. “What brings you here?”

“It’s Daniel.” Clockwork responded quickly. There was none of the usual frustrating indifference in his voice—only worry.

Thanatos immediately felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach.

“He’s hurt. Badly.” Clockwork held out his hand, and it was then that Thanatos noticed the red and green staining the other’s clothes. “Come with me. I’ll take you to him.”

Thanatos didn’t even hesitate before taking Clockwork’s hand, and in a flash of blue light he found himself inside a small room. It was bare, except for a small table covered in an assortment of jars, bottles, and vials, and a bed, upon which laid…

“Danny!”

Thanatos’ ichor ran cold, and he rushed to the bedside. Danny was unconscious. A duplicate of Clockwork stood on the far side of the bed, using a damp cloth to wipe blood and ectoplasm from Danny’s mangled chest. There was so much of it, green and red swirling together as it ran down the halfa’s body and soaked into the bedsheets beneath him.

There was a jagged, gaping slit across Danny’s throat and a deep cut that ran from the middle of his sternum down his stomach, stopping just above his navel. The top of the incision branched off to the sides, and ended just past his collarbones, forming a Y-shape. The cuts on his chest had been sewn up, but his throat… it was too severe. The edges were ragged and torn, showing damaged muscle and fat and tendons.

Danny’s face was pained as he slept. Thanatos’ heart twinged at the sight of dried tear tracks trailing down his face. Thanatos reached down and ran a gentle hand through Danny’s tangled hair. Danny leaned into the touch, an airy, barely audible whine escaping him.

“… what happened to him?” Thanatos asked quietly.

Clockwork’s duplicate disappeared as the original moved to stand where it had been. He picked up the stained cloth and rang it out in a bowl of water on the table. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and filled with anger. “His parents.”

Thanatos froze, and the air around him immediately turned frigid. :… what?:

:Don’t do anything rash.: Clockwork warned.

:Oh, I do not think it would be rash to—: Thanatos began angrily, but he was cut off by a flinch and a quiet whimper from Danny. Though the cuts in the halfa’s torso had been sutured, they were still leaking sluggishly. And the one in his neck was still flowing freely, soaking the pillow below him.

Thanatos looked at Clockwork. “How can we help him?” His tone of voice was carefully controlled, as though Thanatos was trying to keep himself from giving into the rage that was now boiling inside of him.

Clockwork pressed the cloth to Danny’s neck and motioned for Thanatos to hold it in place. The god did so, and Clockwork turned his attention to the table, where he brushed his hand over the various bottles and vials. “I am not sure,” Clockwork muttered. “I removed the instruments that were left inside the wound, but his neck is far too damaged to just sew it shut. And the trauma inside his chest cavity is still… extensive. I just needed to stop the bleeding for the time being.”

“I have herbs and extracts here.” Clockwork continued. “Ones that would heal a ghost, but harm a human. And vice versa. Daniel,” he nodded to the boy. “Is both.” His hand rested on a slim clay pitcher with a stopper in the top. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands with a thoughtful look. “He can’t drink at the moment, but…” He looked at Thanatos. “Perhaps nectar would help?”

Thanatos nodded; he was willing to try anything to save Danny.

Clockwork unstopped the pitcher and leaned over Danny. Thanatos removed the cloth, and Clockwork carefully trickled a little bit of the golden liquid onto Danny’s mangled neck. As the nectar seeped into the wound, Danny’s neck slowly began to knit itself back together.

Clockwork held his hand over the wound, and his fingers began to glow with a blue light. In response, the wound began to heal much more quickly, and mere moments later it was reduced to an angry gash with puckered red edges. Clockwork pulled his hand away, a trickle of sweat running down the side of his face.

“There,” he said, his voice strained. “That is all I can do for now. When he wakes, we can see if he is able to drink something.”

Thanatos released a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. “Thank you, Grandfather.” He continued to stroke Danny’s hair as Clockwork went to work pouring nectar on the torso incisions.

Danny began to stir, and he reached up with a shaky hand, as if searching for something. Thanatos gently took Danny’s hand, and the boy grabbed on weakly, a pained whine escaping his lips.

“It is okay, :my little bird:.” Thanatos rubbed the back of Danny’s hand with his thumb. “You will be okay.”

Danny’s eyes opened slowly, half-lidded as he looked up at Thanatos. “D…ad?” He rasped quietly.

Thanatos faltered at that. How was he supposed to respond? Did Danny… want his parents? The very thought of them brought a sour taste to Thanatos’ mouth.

… No. Thanatos decided. They do not deserve to be his parents. Not after this. “… Yes. I’m here.” Thanatos squeezed Danny’s hand reassuringly. “Go back to sleep, Danny. It will be alright.”

Danny didn’t respond, but after a moment his eyes slid shut and his grip on Thanatos’ hand loosened. Thanatos leaned down and placed a quick kiss on Danny’s forehead, before straightening and letting go of his hand.

Clockwork had finished with the nectar, and was now preparing to wrap Danny’s injuries with gauze. His solid red gaze met Thanatos’ gold, and a quizzical, almost worried look filled Clockwork’s eyes. :… what will you do, Thanatos?:

Thanatos stared at Clockwork for a moment, before returning his gaze to Danny. :I will be right back.:

Jazz POV:

Jazz came home to a mess. Not that far from what she usually expected, but… this time it was different.

She had been away at a college campus tour all day, and had returned to what looked like a crime scene. A trail of upended furniture—overturned side tables, broken picture frames, etc.—led from Danny’s room to the top of the basement stairs. The house was deathly quiet; she was almost afraid to call out for her family, but she did. Mom, Dad, Danny…

Nobody answered.

Cautiously, Jazz started down the stairs. The basement lights were on, so maybe everybody was down here…?

The scene that greeted Jazz in the basement made her stomach churn. The examination table was in the middle of the lab, and its surface was coated with a slick layer of bright green ectoplasm and a darker, earth-toned liquid. Jazz felt her stomach drop once she smelled the copper and citrus overtones and realized that it was blood. Danny’s blood. A couple of metal trays were wheeled up on either side of the table, and their surfaces held an array of dirty surgical utensils and little glass vials and jars, holding varying shades of red and green fluid and flesh.

Jazz’s parents were talking to each other, both so busy cleaning up after whatever they had been doing that they never heard Jazz coming down the stairs. Not until she started yelling.

“What happened? Where’s Danny?!”

Jazz became more and more horrified as her parents raved excitedly about finally catching Phantom. When they began to tell her what they had done, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“How could you do this to him?!” She shrieked. “He’s your son!”

The basement lights flickered ominously, and the shadows around the room deepened as an unearthly chill filled the air. From behind Jazz’s parents came a deep voice, hovering just above a low growl. “Yes. He was.”

Jazz gasped when Thanatos came into view, towering behind her parents. His floor-length robes seemed to be woven from shadows; from the darkness that children are afraid of and adults are unnerved by. His normally human-looking form was flickering, revealing skeletal features in place of flesh. His wings were eerily still behind him, so dark that they blended into the shadows. Compared to the Thanatos that Jazz had met a couple of times before, this one was downright terrifying.

Jazz’s parents followed her gaze, immediately pulling out their ecto-guns upon seeing the Greek god of death. Thanatos was unimpressed. He flicked his wrist and the weapons flew out of their hands, clattering to the floor at Jazz’s feet.

“Who are you?” Maddie demanded. Though her voice didn’t waver, her bloodstained hands shook like brittle leaves in the wind.

Thanatos stalked forward. “Who I am does not matter. He was your child, your son.” Jazz could hear faint whispers coming from the darkness around them as Thanatos spoke in a bone-chillingly calm tone. “And you tortured him.” Condemnation rang in every word.

“Ghosts don’t feel pain. He was faking it,” Jack said defensively, but he was suddenly sounding unsure in his own words.

Thanatos glared coldly at the man. “You know nothing about ghosts if you believe that.” He clenched his fists as he spat out, “He was crying.”

“So what?” Maddie spoke up next. “It was merely an inherited reaction from when he was alive. Ghosts don’t have emotions.”

Thanatos didn’t bother to deign her with a response. Instead, Jazz gasped in terror as he drew a pitch black sword from his sheath. It resonated with the shadows in the room, giving off a faint purple glow that sent chills down Jazz’s spine. “How would you feel if someone you loved, someone who was supposed to protect you, started cutting into you like a cadaver?” Thanatos leveled his sword at the now trembling ghost hunters. “Perhaps one of you would like to learn what that feels like?”

Jazz finally snapped out of whatever had her frozen in place. Moving on shaky legs, she stepped in between her parents and the tip of Thanatos’ sword.

Thanatos looked faintly surprised by her action, but he didn’t lower the sword. “Step aside, Jasmine,” he ordered quietly.

Jazz involuntarily shivered, but she stood her ground. “N-no!” She stammered. “This isn’t right!”

Thanatos glared. “And what they did to your brother was?”

“No, that wasn’t right either,” Jazz conceded, glancing coldly back at her parents. “But you know that Danny wouldn’t want this.” Jazz took a steadying breath; she had started studying Greek with Danny, in an attempt to help him learn. :Please, spare them for a time.:

Thanatos’ eyes bore into hers for what felt like an eternity, before he finally lowered his sword, letting it rest at his side.

Maddie chose this moment to yell at Jazz. “Young lady, since when have you been able to speak ghost?!”

Jazz wanted to smack her mother. Does she not know how to read the room? Jazz thought as Thanatos glared at the scientist.

“First of all, I am not a ghost.” The air around Thanatos darkened considerably. “And second, Jasmine was speaking Greek. One of the many languages of this world. Not that you would care to know that.”

Now it was Jack’s turn to not read the room. “How do you know our daughter, spook?!”

If the situation weren’t so serious, Jazz would’ve facepalmed.

Although anger continued to radiate from the god, Thanatos smirked wickedly at Jack’s question. He spread out his wings, and his golden eyes began to glow like two miniature suns. “Oh, I know everyone, Jack Fenton. And everyone comes to know me, in the end.” The whispers in the room grew louder, as if the disembodied voices were trying to warn the foolish mortals. “I go by many names and titles. Lieutenant of Hades, the Grim Reaper, and even Death itself.”

Jack and Maddie shrunk back from the god, trembling as the immortal stared them down. “Jack and Madeline Fenton, I curse you to one day become that which you hunt. May you be hunted as well and be dealt the pain and suffering that you have caused. Perhaps only then will you learn how wrong you are.”

The room darkened as if the light was being sucked out of it, leaving the group in complete darkness. When the light returned, Thanatos was gone.

Thanatos POV:

Danny was awake when Thanatos returned. He was still in his ghost form, but was now dressed in a plain white tunic and pants. Thanatos could see bandages wrapped around his throat and peeking out from under the neckline of his shirt.

Clockwork was speaking quietly to Danny, his voice calm but firm. “You need more rest, Daniel.”

Danny rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He looked like he wanted to argue, but his eyes widened when he saw Thanatos. Danny tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but Clockwork placed a hand on his shoulder and gently, yet firmly, pushed him back down onto the bed.

“No,” Clockwork ordered a little more loudly.

Thanatos had reached Danny’s bedside by that point, and the halfa looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “Th-Thanatos…?” Danny’s voice came out ragged and whistle-y.

Thanatos’ heart ached. He brushed Danny’s hair back and smiled sadly down at him. “Hello, my child.”

Danny tried to smile, but his expression quickly wavered and turned into one of sorrow as a breathy sob escaped him. He coughed and gasped in pain, which seemed to only spur more tears and more pained gasps.

Thanatos, in an attempt to calm him down, sat on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Danny into a hug, covering him with his wings. “You’re safe now, my child. It will be alright.”

“I-it h-hurts,” Danny rasped between his gasps of pain, clutching at Thanatos’ chiton.

“I know. I know.” Thanatos rubbed small, comforting circles on Danny’s back. “Just breathe.”

Clockwork, who had left at some point, handed Thanatos a blue quilt before leaving again, closing the door behind him. Thanatos wrapped the blanket around Danny’s trembling shoulders, and the halfa relaxed under the soft fabric. He leaned into Thanatos, resting his head against the god’s collarbone as he breathed shakily.

“Don’t leave… please?” Danny mumbled tearfully, wincing as he spoke.

“I will never leave you, Danny.” Thanatos assured him.

Danny sighed quietly in relief, and Thanatos held him just a little closer.

Thanatos stayed with Danny for a while. The poor halfa had curled up against Thanatos’ side with the blanket pulled up over his head as though he was trying to block out the rest of the world. And, honestly, Thanatos didn’t blame him. After everything Danny had gone through, Thanatos wanted nothing more than to hide him away in the furthest reaches of the Underworld and keep him safe from any who would wish him harm.

Thanatos was drawn from his thoughts as Danny shifted under his arm, the blanket falling away as Danny peeked up at him.

“Song?” He asked, his voice weak and raspy.

“… Do you want me to sing to you?” Thanatos asked.

Danny nodded and buried his head under the blanket again.

Thanatos rubbed Danny’s shoulder as he thought of the few songs he knew. There was the lullaby he had first sung to Danny, back in his and Hypnos’ cave. Most of the songs he knew were lullabies.

Which was exactly what was needed right now.

Thanatos wrapped a wing around Danny and—after making sure Danny was comfortable—began to sing.

:Sleep, sleep child:

:So you will go to sleep:

Danny’s eyes slid shut and he breathed out a soft sigh (Thanatos’ heart twinged at the way it whistled out of his throat). The young halfa nuzzled his face into Thanatos’ chiton, and his troubled breathing eased as Thanatos continued.

:So your mother will come:

:Bringing you flowers:

The tension slowly left Danny’s body as the teen fell further and further into Hypnos’ gentle care. Thanatos hoped the Oneiroi would grant his child a peaceful slumber, free of nightmares.

:Oh, bringing you flowers:

:Carnations and daisies…:

Thanatos trailed off as Danny’s breathing evened out, but he continued to hum as he ran his fingers through Danny’s hair. He moved to get up after a few minutes, but faltered as Danny’s head lolled back, revealing the white bandages that covered his neck.

Anger boiled within Thanatos at the sight of the bandages. How could anyone do such a thing to their child? To any child? Many thought Death was cruel, but he was nothing compared to the Fenton parents.

Thanatos gently pulled Danny’s slumbering form into his lap, curling his wings over the halfa as he did so. Danny winced as he was moved but quickly settled back down in Thanatos’ arms. Thanatos ran his hand through Danny’s hair again, trying to provide what comfort he could for his apprentice.

His child.

Chapter Text

Danny didn’t know where he was. In his attempts to somehow find his way through the Ghost Zone, he had only gotten himself more lost. He hadn’t seen much of anything for a while now. There was the random piece of rock floating here and there in the endless green landscape, but honestly… not much else. Yet, out on the far horizon, Danny thought that he saw… something.

He continued forward, and after a minute or so the little blur on the horizon turned into the outline of a group of buildings.

Perhaps against his better judgment, Danny decided to head over there. It wasn’t like there was anywhere else to go, and maybe—just maybe—there was someone in this future that would help him.

Once Danny finally reached the buildings, he came to a stop. The buildings were all clustered on top of a large, floating island. They were all white and gold, with tall pillars that had clearly withstood the test of time. It all looked very… Greek.

Danny had never seen this part of the Ghost Zone before, and as he landed on the edge of the island, he noticed that the whole place looked pretty worn down. The white marble columns were chipped and cracked. The gold paint had flaked away in some places. The plants were all withered and shriveled up. And there wasn’t a soul—living, dead, or otherwise—in sight.

In the middle of the group of buildings was a courtyard. The cobblestone was worn down and crumbled away in some spots, revealing the swirling green abyss of the Ghost Zone below. It didn’t even look safe to walk on.

But what was in the courtyard was what made Danny stop. Kneeling in the center, their arms chained to a pair of ancient marble pillars, was…

No way.

Danny couldn’t believe his eyes. The person didn’t have wings, but their skin tone… their stature… the aura of death radiating from them…

It can’t be.

Refusing to believe what he saw, Danny flew down into the courtyard. He glided silently over the cobblestone, and came to a stop about ten feet from the being.

It… was Thanatos.

But…

This wasn’t the Thanatos that Danny knew.

His hair was dirty and matted, and looked as if it had been cut with a dull knife, its longest strands only reaching his jawline. His skin looked like a battlefield, with scars both old and new, small and large, clean and jagged covering every inch of his body. And his wings…

Danny’s stomach churned as he saw Thanatos’ wings—or rather, what was left of them. Two bony stumps protruded from the god’s back. They had a few feathers dangling from them, like a poorly plucked chicken. Skin had grown over the broken bone, but from what Danny could see it looked like the appendages had been sawed through.

It must have been excruciating.

The god’s head was hung low, so that Danny couldn’t see his face—Danny wondered if he was even awake. If he was even alive.

Can gods die? He briefly wondered to himself, but then he shuddered as he remembered the golden blood staining Dan’s hands. But… could Thanatos die?

Danny drifted closer, until he was just a couple of feet from the chained god.

Thanatos didn’t react. Did he even know that Danny was there?

Hesitantly, Danny reached out and touched the chains, but he recoiled immediately with a hiss of pain—the chains were far colder than he would’ve imagined possible, to the point that they burned his fingers, even through the insulation of his gloves. He hadn’t thought they would hurt him at all; cold temperatures hadn’t really affected him since his portal accident.

But the chains radiated an unnatural chill—one that blew through Danny’s core like a bitter wind and instantly soured his mood.

He glared at the chain as he rubbed his hands together to try and warm them up. Stupid frickin’ thing, just like everything else in this stupid future—

The chains shuddered. Danny quickly backed away as Thanatos began to move, the chains rattling and clinking as the defeated god wearily lifted his head and met Danny’s gaze.