Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Let it be known that the job of the Ghost King is not a metaphorical walk in the park. Territorial disputes, constant badgering by the Observants, misguided Denizens who think they could do better, and…paperwork; all these things ensure that the King had their clawed hands very full.

The Infinite Realms are just that, infinite. There was no shortage of work to be done and, to be honest, Cepheus was at their wits end. With that upstart that they couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of, the Realms that they love being bombarded by new universes coming into creation, and a new Ancient set to be born within the next few millennia…the stress was starting to get to them. Clockwork had recommended they take a break a few hundred years ago. How Cepheus wished they had listened.

Cepheus sighed, looking out of their white marble castle walls into the Infinite. They wish they could fly free again, ignoring their duties. But nooooo…that would be irresponsible and childish.

Cepheus shook their head. ‘No, focus. No point adding those floating eyeballs' words to my worries now. Not with… this.’

Cepheus looked down at the report they had been putting off for the past few days, the formerly tightly rolled scroll now lying flat on their desk. ‘This… is a problem.’ They carded their fingers through short, cropped hair. Their left hand remained there, gripping their scalp in stress, as their right took the report again, trying to understand how this had become their problem.

IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED

Hazard Report: Dimension 20112013

After an intensive investigation into the natural portal in sector 15067 and the reports of missing souls from DM20112013, it has been found that creatures now dubbed “Entities” have been attempting to circumvent the natural cycle of life and death. The Entities have been consuming civilization after civilization, utilizing portions of their being as converters to absorb all different types of energy, including the souls of the departed. They utilize this energy to continue their onslaught against the other forms of life within their dimension. As a result of the absorption of energies in their vicinity, any ghostly forms of dead Entities are sucked into those remining alive. For Entities that parish and form as ghosts away from living Entities, they being to actively hunting other nearby ghosts and spirits with prejudice, continuing to follow their instincts of gaining power. This has become an issue due to the cannibalization of local souls that would otherwise have made their way to the Infinite.

It is this Observant’s opinion that, should this cycle continue, the Entities will become an extreme threat to the Realms. This issue requires the immediate action from the High King of the Infinite, King Cepheus Alder. These creatures must not gain access to the Realms at any cost, lest they consume everything.

- Observant Osfellos, Lead Investigator, Sector 15067

Cepheus could almost feel their hair going grey, even if that was physically impossible. The Observants were always like this. Everything was important and dire, and it had to be handled then and there, or everyone would cease. Every time the King prioritized one of their “dire” situations, it had turned out to be either nothing or a complete misunderstanding. To be certain, the King would need to see the problem for themselves.

Another sigh of frustration left the King’s lips. ‘I wonder if I can just… ignore it? No, if I ignore it then the Observants will just make my days hell. If Clockwork wasn’t busy with that new Ancient, I would just ask him. I mean, the kid isn’t even born yet, let alone dead. I never imagined Clockwork as a worrywart.’ Cepheus released their scalp from their grip and, stretching their arms out, let their back pop.

‘I’m sure I could delegate, right? King’s do that, don’t they?’ Cepheus ran through a list of their trusted attendants, thinking of who they could send to investigate. Not a Living Ghost, surely…according to the report, they would be eaten by these ‘Entities.’ A Neverborn, like Fright Knight, may be better, but he tended to be more of an enforcer then an investigator. There was also a concern that the type of Denizen would not matter to these creatures.

‘If I could trust the Observants to not exaggerate, it would be better…’ Cepheus brought both their hands to their head, frustratingly moving their fingers though their short locks again. When their hands reached the back of their head, they held them there and hunch over the report, as though staring at the document would change its contents.

The words on the page stubbornly stayed in place. Another sigh. ‘Fine,’ the King huffed as they pushed themselves from their seat. ‘Once I get this over with, I can deal with something more important. Like… anything else.’

Cepheus stood from their desk and exited the office, moving through the white halls of the castle, the tapping of their boots echoing off the walls. Cepheus was never a fan of the Keep; too white, too…clinical. The color made their own coloring stand out like a sore thumb: their fiery blue hair and black and silver armor, a ring of glittering stars adorned their finger with a matching star circlet floating over their head.

While they enjoyed cleanliness and organization, the Keep never felt like it belonged to them. Their original haunt was much more their speed… a silent, dark field set on a new moon where the sky shined with stars, camping under the stars with their fraid.

Unfortunately, their haunt was no more, along with their fraid. ‘No, don’t think about that now.’ Cepheus shook their head as they passed the gates, stepping out onto the outer lawn of the Keep. As they prepared to depart, they heard a deep voice call out to them.

“My King,” Fright Knight appeared before them and took a knee in a deep bow, as he always did when Cepheus passed the Keep’s threshold.

“No need for that, Frighty,” Cepheus waved him off, feeling uncomfortable with the display. They had known Fright Knight for many millennia at this point and the excess ceremony really didn’t suit the King's taste. “Please stand. You know you can just… wave hello...” Cepheus trailed off as his Knight stood.

“Apologies, my King. I was unaware you would be departing the Keep today.” Stiff as ever, Fright Knight looked down upon the King, standing a good two feet taller than them. “Allow me to escort you.”

“NO!” Cepheus exclaimed, waving their arms frantically in front of them. They did not want to risk their… not really friend, but something close… to an unknown threat, “I mean, no, thank you, Frighty. I’m just going out for a change of scenery, to... um... lift my spirits, you know. No need to stress!” Their eyes shifted, not looking into Fright Knight’s green glowing eyes, hand rubbing the back of their neck with a nervous chuckle.

“Hmm,” Fright Knight, ignoring the pun, squinted at his liege, who began to shift as though they had done something wrong. The King tended to act as though they were of a younger sort, though that was expected as they had died young. “As you say, Your Highness. If you require assistance, please do not hesitate to call for me. The Challenger, Pariah Dark, has been skulking around the Keep as of late. As you will not allow me to remove him, I request the utmost caution.”

‘Thaaaat was his name!’ Cepheus attempted to commit it to memory, however they knew that the name would quickly slip their mind again. Dark was not the first to attempt to take the throne from them and would not be the last. He was just another minor annoyance to deal with that just kept coming back.

“You have to admire his tenacity at some point,” Cepheus joked, chuckling to themselves, “but yes, Frighty, I’ll be careful. I should return within the day.” Fright Knight nodded, bending in a bow as Cepheus began to float into the air. They gave their Knight a wave and flew off, legs morphing into a tail for speed.

‘Now where was that again?’ Cepheus began to search for the location of the portal to the problem dimension. They flew past many haunts, floating islands home to many Denizens. The King smiled, seeing their subjects enjoying their well-deserved afterlives. While they never expected or wanted to be King, they were happy that they could make a difference to those around them.

There was a pull, and Cepheus knew they were headed in the right direction. A surplus of energy was pooling out of a natural portal ahead, making it's location obvious. As they got closer, Cepheus began to feel a…a wrongness: the bastardization of life and death. It crawled on their skin like insects, sending a shiver through their core. The King could feel the screams of agony from their trapped subjects, begging for freedom… for home.

Cepheus paused, finally arriving in front of the portal in question. It wasn’t natural. There was no way it could be. This portal was a tear, a rip in the fabric of reality, caused by the emotions and pain of all the souls these ‘Entities’ shredded and pulped into their power source. Cepheus was stunned and felt warmth leaving they’re very being at the sound of such suffering.

‘This is…it’s not right…’ Cepheus stifled a sob, feeling their core call out instinctively to their lost subjects. They realized their mistake too late. A sound, a wail coming from the very vacuum of space, carried through the hole between dimensions. Cepheus could feel the rush of energy, of power, before laying eyes on the creature.

It was massive, bigger than many planets and spanning the multiverse making up the dimension. It was a worm-like creature, one that Cepheus would not have been able to fathom if not for his role as King. They could feel its feelings and emotions, but it was all so…foreign...alien. And this one was dead, roaming its universe looking for a way to…

“Ancients…” Cepheus cursed. ‘I need to close this down. NOW!’ 

With a jolt and sense of purpose, the King of the Infinite Realms began weaving the space together as the Ghost Entity moved ponderously closer and closer to the tear. Cepheus’ hands morphed into needle-like claws, calling upon the Realms themselves to assist in sealing the tear. They worked feverishly, beads of ectoplasm dripped down their forehead as tears ran down their face, all the while hearing the anguished sounds of their blended and shredded subjects within the monstrosity’s being.

Just as the Ghost Entity neared the breech, the King gave one final tug, sealing the hole, effectively cutting off that dimension from the realms. Cepheus curled into a ball, sobbing and devastated. ‘Why? Fuck… what kind of monster would do that?’ The image of a mass of trillions of souls blended…Cepheus felt their body heave. They could feel the Realms surround them, embracing them in a protective pressure like a mother comforting their child. Cepheus straightened up, looking into the void in alarm. The Realms had never comforted them before. Ancients, this was not good.

The King looked back to where the tear had been, the image of the Entity burned into their mind. No, this would not do at all. Those souls did not deserve that. Cepheus began to float back to the Keep, mind racing. ‘No, this needs to be taken care of. I need to call the Council together. This is more than just a single dimension’s problem; it could become so much worse.’

The Keep was in sight, it’s gleaming white columns and walls bringing Cepheus some comfort. They sighed, letting out some of the stress from their ordeal.

Cepheus should have known better, been paying more attention. There were other threats than those from another dimension. Threats much closer to home. But they weren’t thinking. Who would have expected it to be end like this…by a challenger stabbing them from behind. After all, the crown could not pass unless taken in a duel, trial by combat.

The blade pieced through the King’s chest, right through their core. Cepheus looked down, knowing what was to come and lamenting their isolated subject’s terrible fate. The gilded blade glowed red, burning through Cepheus’s core in moments. Their eyes turned toward their assassin, the upstart that was no longer a thorn in their foot, but a knife in their back.

Pariah Dark grinned in satisfaction as the King faded, knowing that he had finally won. The crown was his. He plucked the large glowing star circlet from where the faded King’s head had once been, and it morphed a smaller green crown surrounded by ectoplasmic green flames. Pariah’s smile twitched slightly, but he ignored the implication that his will was somehow weaker…lesser…than the simpering weakling that had just been ended by his hand.

Pariah placed the crown above his head, savoring the rush of power it brought, before finally plucking the Ring of Stars from the air where the King’s hand once was. The Realm pulsed, a feeling of loss pressing on the Denizens of the Infinite. A new king was crowned…a Usurper.

Pressure surrounded the ring in Pariah’s hand, the rage for the Usurper king warping the Ring of Stars into a simple signet with a glowing green skull with crimson eyes filled with hate and loathing. Pariah laughed in triumph, placing the Ring of Rage on his finger. ‘Finally, right where it belongs: under a true King’s influence. It is all mine.’

Fright Knight awaited his King at the entrance to their Keep as always when he felt the shift, the true death of his liege. The power of the Ring of Stars ceased to exist, instead filling his mind and body with hate and loathing. When the Usurper King finally arrived, gloating of his victory, Fright Knight bowed to his new lord, speaking pleasantries, and appealing to his ego. All the while, cold hatred at the loss of his King’s warm glow overwhelmed him. The Realms had lost a good King and received an Impostor instead. All Fright Knight could do was protect as much as he could of the Realm, however he could. He would miss the small jokes and shifts in posture that put moments of awkwardness on full display. He just had to bide his time, awaiting the true successor of the Realm’s kind King.

Chapter Text

Infinite Realms – December 2005

Another day in the Ghost Zone (or the Infinite Realms as the other ghosts constantly told him). Danny had been a permanent resident of the Zone for a few months now, and it was going well; he was thriving! 

‘Yea right, Danny. And denial is only a river in Egypt.’ 

Danny had begun his training and lessons with the Ghosts of the zone, learning about Ghostly Medicine from Frostbite, the Chief of the FarFrozen, Combat and Tactics from Pandora, Ancient of Hope and the Lord of the Greek Sector, Regency from Dorethea, Queen of the Realm of Knights, and Realms History from Clockwork, Ancient of Time and Danny's mentor. With all his focus on his duties as the new High King of the Realms, he was actually doing well…and he had just started!

‘Why couldn’t I have been just a good student back home in Amity.’ Danny shook his head like a puppy, as though that would remove the unwelcome intrusive thoughts sneaking up on him. The Zone Ghosts (“Denizens, Daniel,” Clockwork’s voice supplied in his memory) had been mostly the same as ever: Skulker was still hunting Danny for his pelt, Youngblood still came to play his game of the week, Box Ghost was still…Box Ghost, but most of Danny’s Rogues shifted in their roles for him. Ember and Kitty had seemingly adopted him as their little brother, teasing and doting on him in equal measure, Jonny and Shadow would hang out with Danny while getting into mischief together, and Lunch Lady, along with her and Box Ghost’s daughter, Box Lunch, always made sure his human half had enough to eat.

Danny would wake up like every day, like any other day in the Realms, within the Keep he won from Pariah Dark, the previous and mad king of the Infinite Realms. The Keep itself had undergone major renovations since the owner change. Rather than the drab and dark broken-down stonework and derelict corridors, it had changed to match Danny’s tastes.

The Keep had morphed into a crystalline castle, ramparts and towers made of ice. Metal and glowing green power ran through the walls, reminding Danny of home. Bricks of a reddish purple supplemented the icy towers, large entry doors protecting the threshold of the Keep. The halls of the Keep were warm and inviting, contrasting with the cold and beautiful exterior. Danny had set up a few of the hundreds of rooms within the Keep for his best friend, Tucker, his girlfriend, Sam, his sister/cousin/clone, Dani (with an “I” obviously), and his sister/sister, Jazz, attempting to recreate their styles the best he could. ‘They aren’t coming here anytime soon, Danny.' His own room he had set in one of the taller towers, recreating Earth’s starry skies in the room’s ceiling using willpower, patience, and a little elbow grease. The stars would glitter and shine, shifting with the days as they would have back home. He would spend hours just gazing at the stars longing to go back.

Danny was in his room, nursing some bruises from his combat lesson with Pandora (“You’re getting better, Danny!” She said as if she hadn’t just wiped the floor with him) while talking with Sam on the Phantomfones (‘Thank the Ancients they got those working! They may not work from dimension to dimension, but at least they work in the GZ to Amity’). Sam was complaining about how she was being forced into yet another pink frilly dress to attend some rich person party she had no interest in by her parents.

“I just don’t understand why they think this is a good idea, Danny!” Sam exclaimed, distressed and angry, “They know that I’m going to do everything in my power to ruin it, so why bother!?”

Danny could hear her pacing, could imagine her hands gesturing wildly, ready to throw something...could visualize her violet eyes seething in rage. ‘Ancients I miss her.' Danny nodded along, “I think they’re still hopin that you’ll ‘see what your missin’ by forcing ya ta go.” Danny missed the normalcy of Sam’s and Tucker’s complaints and gripes. He even missed the Meat vs Veggie debates. He could still listen to some of it, but it wasn’t the same as being there.

Sam huffed in annoyance, a thud sounding from the other line. ‘Guess she threw somethin,’ Danny thought as he shifted on his bed, wincing as he shifted onto a particularly stubborn bruise curtesy of Pandora’s practice spear. “Don’t worry too much 'bout it, Sam! I’m sure ya can get some of those rich weirdos to donate some money to tha…what was it again?” Danny prompted.

“The Ida-national Green Initiative,” Sam states, huffing out a sigh, but Danny can hear the smile in her voice. He was never more proud of one of his puns than when he could make his girlfriend laugh. She began to speak excitedly about the Initiative and their progress; Sam may have been a Sophomore in High School, but she was one of the most driven people Danny had ever met. It doesn’t surprise him that she had made so much progress in her Non-Profit. Fondness washed over his core at the sound of her passion.

While listening to Sam talk about her progress, a knock echoed at Danny’s door, stiff and formal sounding. The only person who knocks like that is… “Hey Sam?” Danny interrupts apologetically, “I think Frighty is at the door; I gotta go figure out what he wants. Call ya tomorrow?”

Danny holds back a snicker as Sam huffs in annoyance, “Fine. Just make sure to actually call me this time, Ghost Boy. Last time you said ‘tomorrow’ it was three days later.”

Danny made an affronted sound, clutching his non-existent pearls, “That was not my fault, Sam. CW kept me longer than I thought! Felt like a day ta me!”

He could almost hear Sam’s eyes roll as she said fondly, “Talk to you tomorrow, Danny. I love you,” the last bit whispered so quiet he almost missed it.

“WHAT WAS THAT, SAM?! YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO SPEAK LOUDER!” Danny shouted into the receiver, grinning ear to ear as he heard Sam’s affronted squawk of protest, imagining the full blush over her face. A more insistent knock sounded at the door, “GOTTAGOSAMLOVEYOUBYE!” Danny heard a huff of ‘Nerd’ on the other end as he hung up.

Still smiling, Danny dropped his phone on the bed and vaulted over it to the door. He opened it with a, “Yeeeees, Frighty? Sup?” Fright Knight stood there in all his 6’5” glory, cutting an intimidating figure in his dark helmeted face and purple-flamed head and cloak, only slightly ruined by the homey hallway he was currently standing in.

“My King,” Fright Knight declared, attempting to take a knee before being physically stopped by Danny.

“Dude, it’s cool. Just call me Danny. What’s up?” They had this conversation before where Fright Knight would call Danny all sorts of titles and Danny would correct him. At this point, it was basically a reflexive greeting.

“Of course, My King,” Fright Knight expectedly ignoring Danny’s request, “Sir Wulf has arrived for your planned lesson.” Danny jumped, looking down at his wrist before remembering he didn’t have a watch. He launched himself back toward his bed, grabbing his phone, and yep: it was after noon, and he was late.

“Shoot! Thanks, Frighty; I’ll go now!” Danny exclaimed, transforming from human form to ghost on instinct. It had gotten much easier to transition between his two forms over the last few months, so much so he no longer needed his signature catchphrase. ‘No, it just reminds me of before.’

His ghostly form had changed, too, during his time in the Zone. With his role as High King, his suit had transformed from the cheap rubber of the original that he died in into something more like leather and cloth that covered from about mid neck to ankle (much more durable and protective), his signature symbol still proudly displayed on his chest. His boots had changed from the rubber hazmat boots to combat leather, multiple buckles keeping them in place on his feet. White fingerless gloves adorned his hands along with the small starlight ring displayed on his right middle finger. A laurel of ice covered the back of his head, coming up above his pointed ears.

Finally, his skin was covered in star-like freckles that danced across his face, interrupted only by his death scars: green glowing Lichtenberg figures tracing his tan skin from the center of his right palm to his green right eye and down his body to his right foot (at least most of it was covered by the suit). They had never been that noticeable when he was back in Amity but had become obvious since he became the Ghost King. Frostbite said it was caused by an “excess of energy.” Danny didn’t feel extra energetic or anything, so chose to ignore it.

Danny also had another form he also chose to ignore, not wanting to even think about what Tucker deemed his ‘Eldritch King Mode.’ The cape that came with it was cool, but not worth the eventual hassle and strain of pushing all that back into the vessel known as his body. Besides, it just makes him feel like a monster.

Fully transformed, Danny flew down the hall, leaving Fright Knight behind, hearing him call “By your leave, Your Highness.” Danny rolled his eyes fondly. Frighty had been a great help to him after the whole Pariah Dark debacle. He was a great knight, and a good friend, helping Danny when he was at his worst. Before Danny could blink, the Halloween Spirit had become one of his; one of his fraid. ‘If only he’d loosen up a bit, it would be fa-boo-lous,’ Danny thought, chuckling to himself, then paused, “I can do better than that…” He muttered to himself, continuing onward.

Danny zoomed down the halls like an excited puppy, only stopping when he ran straight into his destination. Literally. He saw Wulf standing in the entry hall, awaiting his arrival, and purposely slammed head-first right into the Wolf Ghost’s stomach. Wulf let out a grunt, sliding back a few inches before stopping himself, leaving Danny smiling.

“Saluton, Danny. Ĉu tio estis bezonata? (Hello, Danny. Was that necessary?)” Wulf’s voice was gruff, colored with amusement as he removed Danny from his torso.

“HAHA! Sorry, Wulf! I just couldn’t stop, fur real!” Danny lied, grinning as Wulf groaned in mock exasperation.

“Lupaj vortludoj jam? Mi ĵus alvenis ĉi tien (Wolf puns already? I just got here),” Wulf grabbed his friend around the waist like he was luggage or something, causing Danny to let out a yelp of indignation.

“Dude! I can walk! Or fly… Whatever!” Danny huffed, crossing his arms and pouting, making no attempt to escape Wulf’s hold.

“Jes, jes. Ni havas laboron por fari, kaj vi malfruis. Ĉi tio estas pli rapida (Yeah, yeah. We have work to do, and you were late. This is faster.),” Wulf rolled his eyes, taking his other hand and striking the air in front of them. His claws ripped a hole into the space, leaving a glowing green portal in their wake. Danny turned his head back and shouted to the Keep at large.

“I’ll be back by dinner!” He then turned his head forward, excited to begin his training with Wulf: he was going to learn to make portals!

Chapter Text

Infinite Realms – December 2005

Wulf, carrying Danny under his arm, stepped out of the portal into an open space in the void of the Infinite. Danny’s core buzzed with excitement, slipping out from Wulf’s grasp and floating in front of him. He entire body shook with the suppressed need to move as he addresses his friend made teacher, “Ok, so what’s first? Visualization? EctoManipulation?”

Wulf just shook his head with fond amusement, “Unue vi devas lerni, kio estas portaloj. Ne preterlasu la teorion por ĉi tiu, mia amiko. (First you must learn what portals are. No skipping the theory for this one, my friend.)” Danny groans in mock defeat, dropping his arms and shoulders pouting again.

“Fine,” Danny crossed his legs while floating, bobbing up and down slowly like on gentle waves, “Teach way, Amiko! (Friend)”

Wulf straightens his back, motioning his hands toward the space around them, “La Regnoj estas fluida kaj vivanta estaĵo. Gravas scii kiel ĝi fluas, se vi volas fari portalojn. Ĝi estas iom malfacila, (The Realms are a fluid and living thing. It's important to know how it flows if you want to make portals. It's a bit difficult)” Wulf gestures toward Danny, “sed vi devus povi akiri ĝin. (but you should be able to get it.)”

“Why’s that?” Danny asked, tilting his head to the side.

“La Regnoj ŝatas vin. (The Realms like you.)” Wulf stated matter-of-factly, as though he hadn’t just dropped some weird ass knowledge bomb right on Danny’s head.

“Is it my hauntingly good looks? Or my electric personality?” Danny questioned jokingly, grinning at his friend.

Wulf barked out a laugh, shaking his head, “HA, ne. Jes, sed ne. La Regnoj same kiel vi. Ne estas surprize, vi estas sufiĉe simpatia. (HA, no. Yes, but no. The Realms just like you. It's not surprising, you are pretty likeable.)” Danny puffed out his chest proudly at Wulf’s compliment, then Wulf added, “Eĉ se viaj vortludoj ne estas amuzaj. (Even if your puns aren't funny.)” making Danny clutch his imaginary pearls for a second time that day.

“You take that back; my puns are amazin!” Danny pouted, puffing out his cheeks while Wulf laughed at him, “Do the Realms like me ‘cause of the Ghost King thing? If that’s it, then wouldn’t Pariah have been able to do it? And that doesn’t explain how you can…” Danny settles his cheek against his closed fist, resting his elbow on his knee, still slightly pouting.

Wulf wipes a tear from his eye, “Ne, esti Reĝo havas nenion komunan, ke la Sferoj ŝatas vin. Io pri vi mem estas tio, kion la Sferoj ŝatas. (No, being King has nothing to do with the Realms liking you. Something about you yourself is what the Realms like.)” Wulf shakes his head, resetting his thought process, “Sed ni malproksimiĝas de la temo. (But we are getting off topic.)”

Wulf gestured again to the space around them, launching into his lecture regarding the ebb and flow of the currents of the Realms. After around 30 minutes or so of explanation, Danny began to fidget, making it hard for him to concentrate. Noticing this, Wulf switched gears, “Ni faru iom da praktika laboro. Kion vi pensas, Danny? (Let's do some practical work. What do you think, Danny?)”

Danny launched from his seated position and stretched his arms out, a popping sound echoing in the space around them, “Yes! Let’s do this!”

Wulf demonstrated, clawing a portal to nowhere into the space around them. Danny watches with fascination and begins attempting the same. It was hard; harder than he thought it would be. ‘Wulf makes it look so easy,’ Danny thought, frustrated after about 50 failed attempts.

And then, it happened: Danny’s finger caught on something, and he pulled. “I DID IT!” He exclaimed, “WULF LOOK!” Danny’s head spun to beam at his friend. A portal, about the size of a nickel, had opened in front of him.

“Tio estas mirinda, mia amiko! (That's wonderful, my friend!)” Wulf bared his teeth in a large smile, “Nun ni nur bezonas labori por pligrandigi ĝin. Tiam ni povas agordi celon! (Now we just need to work on making it bigger. Then we can set a destination!)”

They worked through the afternoon, ending when Danny had opened a few decently sized portals, about the size of a hobbit door. Danny was radiating starlight from the freckles on his face and his core purred with satisfaction. They had begun to set destinations when, of course, Fenton Luck ™ had to strike. Danny felt a shiver as his ghost sense, alerted to a new presence nearby. 

“Well, well. What do we have here? My Little Badger is playing with portals now. How quaint.”

A smarmy deep voice echoed in the space around them, and Danny’s face immediately fell into a scowl, the light from his face dimming instantly. Wulf growled, searching for the source of the voice.

Vlad Plasmius in all his Frootloop glory floated before the two, a sneering smirk plastered on his face as he looked down at them surrounded by Hobbit Hole sized portals.

Danny let out a long sigh of exasperation, “What do ya want, Plasmius? I’m busy and don’t have time to play with ya.” Danny feigned nonchalance, but inside he was fuming. He knew exactly what Vlad wanted; he always came to Danny with the same request (read: demand).

“Come home, Daniel,” Vlad stated plainly in time with Danny’s thoughts, speaking to him as though he were a troublesome child who ran away from home, “Your mother is worried about you; don’t cause her anymore undue stress by being a bad son.”

Danny seethed at that every time. As though he left because of some stupid argument rather than… ‘Nope. Back in the vault!’ Danny buried that thought down, locked it away and tossed the key into the void.

Instead, he glared at Vlad, “Don’t you have anythin better to do then ta bother me, Vlad,” Danny spoke the name with vitriol, like it was poison, “I know I do. Go haunt someone else.” Danny turned away from Vlad, ending his portion of the conversation through the social convention of ‘Ignoring the Them till They Leave,’ keeping Vlad in his peripheries juuuust in case. Wulf was still growling at the vampire wannabe, eyes locked on his every move.

“Come now, Daniel. Stop being…”

But Vlad was interrupted by Danny, using his hand like a sock puppet, and mocking the man, “Shtop being shuch a child, Daniel. You’re shuch a dishapointment! You’re lucky I’m here to bla bla bla. Ya make it seem like I should care about your opinion.” Danny smirked, lazily rolling his head over his shoulder, giving Vlad an unimpressed look, “Go play with your cat if ya want someone’s attention. I know mo…Maddie isn’t givin ya the time of day.”

Vlad’s eyes flashed red, his face contorting in anger. He took a second, taking a deep breath in, then exhaled, “You know, Daniel. I wonder if that attitude of yours would last if something happened to your… oh I don’t know… Sister? Or maybe your little friends? It’s not as though you are there anymore to protect them.” He sneers, a look of satisfaction at the way Danny’s face warps with rage.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Danny spat, voice cold as the void of space, but as heated as a supernova. Vlad had the audacity to laugh at him.

“You never know, Daniel. Accidents happen.” Vlad looked pointedly at Danny’s Death Scars, smirking like he won something.

“Mi finos lin. (I’ll end him.)” Wulf growled, poised to pounce on the interloper and tear him to shreds with his sharp claws.

“Get in line,” Danny said coldly, before launching himself at the still laughing Vlad. The man yelped embarrassingly as Danny socked him hard in the jaw, sending him flying backward. “Get out of here, before I make you.”

Vlad floated back, rubbing his jaw as an impressive welt began to form on its surface, “I am bringing you home this time, Little Badger. Your tantrum has gone on long en-”

He was interrupted again by Danny, this time by a blast of burning hot ectoblast, missing Vlad’s head by inches. “TANTRUM?!” Danny shouted, his eyes turning a toxic green, “TANTRUM?! Get a life, Plasmius!” and the melee began.

Danny flew full force at Vlad, attempting to beat the man into leaving him alone. Vlad dodged, sending one of his own hot pink ectoblasts toward Danny’s form. Danny dodged, zagging in and out of way as the blasts heated his skin. Danny launched ice shards at Plasmius, forcing him back on the defensive.

“Come now, Daniel! Be reasonab-aaaa!!” Plasmius shrieked as Danny got a good hit in with a well-aimed ectoblast, burning his enemy right in the square of his back. Plasmius snarled, then split, creating 5 identical clones that surrounded Danny. “Enough messing around, Daniel! Come home!” The original shouted as electricity crackled through the air between the clones, caging Danny inside.

Danny scoffed, focused inward toward his core, and pulled, creating a sarrisae, about 3 meters in length made of ghostly ice. He rolled the polearm between his hands and stabbed, catching one of the clones in the shoulder while creating a hole in the field to escape. He slipped through, dropping his polearm and crafting a xiphos from ice, launching toward one of the other clones, sword flashing.

The clones scattered, and Danny gave chase, attempting to cut down the fake Plasmius’ to find the real one. Dodging 5 Frootclones and 1 real Plasmius wasn’t Danny’s idea of a good time, however, and he was slowing down. _‘Why bother with this, Frootloop?! Just leave me alone!’_ Danny thought furiously. Danny dodged to the right as one of the Frootclones shot an ectoblast his way…forcing him into the awaiting arms of yet another clone.

The clone enclosed Danny in its arms, grinning like a madman and discharging electricity like a Pokémon. Danny screamed bloody murder as the electricity coursed through his body, his core. Electricity would always be a weakness of Danny's, being the cause of his initial death. Said death was flashing before his eyes now as his scars flashed painfully across his skin.

Drawing in as much of his strength as he could, Danny forced his way out of the hold, attempting to regain feeling in his limbs. Distracted, he was bodied by another clone and shocked again, causing Danny’s vision to go white.

His brain frazzled, limbs trembling from the multiple shocks, Danny dropped his sword into the abyss of the Realms below. Danny couldn’t process much, but he could hear Vlad’s smug laugh at a distance and the sound of battle below him, the snarls of Wulf attempting to help.

“That’s enough, Little Badger. You’re coming home whether you like it or not.” Danny felt a strong hand grasp his arm possessively and felt immediate disgust. Nauseous, trembling, and disoriented, Danny snarled and yanked his arm away from the man he had hated most. He lashed out, his hand carrying the Ring of Stars slipping from its natural state, forming a large icy claw reminiscent of Frostbite’s prosthetic arm, glittering and dangerous ice.

Plasmius cursed in some uniquely cheesy language as the tip of Danny’s claw sliced into the meat of his cheek. In a rage, Plasmius backhanded the disoriented Danny, sending him flying… headfirst into one of the latest practice portals Danny and Wulf had created and had yet to close.

“DANNY!” Wulf exclaimed, surrounded by Plasmius’s remaining clones. He watched as Danny sailed through the space, helpless, into a portal of an unknown destination.

Plasmius snarled, and dove after Danny, crossing through the portal exclaiming, “You can’t get away, Badger!” As soon as Plasmius crossed the threshold of the portal, his clones disappeared, removed from existence. Wulf leapt toward the portal, intending to follow-to help his friend-but, to his horror, the portal snapped shut as though the Realms themselves cut it off. Wulf spun around, panicked.

“Kion en la Antikvuloj mi faros? (What in the Ancients am I gonna do?)” Wulf glanced around, looking for any sign of Danny, “Damne, Fright Knight mortigos min... Horloĝmekanismo tuj mortigos min... (Damn it, Fright Knight is going to kill me...Clockwork is going to kill me...)” Wulf paused, “Frato mortigos min... (Brother is going to kill me...)” Wulf shook his head around, then focused on where his friend disappeared, determination set in his face, “Estu sekura Danny; ni venos preni vin... (Be safe Danny; we'll come get you...)” he paused again, “Fiku. (Fuck.)”

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire - 17 December 2010

Taylor Hebert was not having a good day. If she had to describe it, it would be along the lines of a ‘Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.’ She had woken up late, her alarm failing her as she rushed to get dressed, ripping a hole in her favorite pair of jeans in the process. Groaning in defeat, she pulled on some baggy sweatpants, then realized her black hoodie was in the wash.

Rushing down the stairs while pulling a light gray hoodie over her head and swinging her backpack onto her back, she heard her dad, Danny Hebert, inside the kitchen with a pleasant smell wafting from within. Dad never cooked anymore, and now Taylor would be unable to enjoy it. She hurried into the kitchen, her father turning at the sound of her entrance.

“Morning, Taylor!” He smiled at her, a strained thing, but still there. The pair hadn’t had a lot to smile about in almost two years now, which peaked Taylor’s curiosity. If only she wasn’t late…

“Morning, Dad! Sorry, I woke up late. I gotta run!” Taylor grabbed a piece of toast from the counter, which was laid out with a small but freshly made breakfast assortment of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Her stomach growled in protest as she slipped up to her dad, giving him a small hug. With a “Bye,” she was back out the door, but not before noticing her dad’s face fall slightly.

“Sure, kiddo. Have fun at school,” his small voice called to her as Taylor dipped out of the front door, hoping to catch the bus.

Taylor sprints toward the bus stop, seeing her ride in the distance… pulling away… without her… “God damn it…” She slowed down; no point running if she couldn’t catch it. Taylor lets out a sigh, wiping some sweat from her forehead. It was winter, but running like that so quickly after waking up was not Taylor’s idea of a good time.

Getting splashed by a car as it sped past, hitting a dirty puddle as it went, was also not her idea of a good time… ‘Great…this might as well happen today…’ Taylor sighed deeply, attempting to push past this spurt of bad luck.

Soaked through with dirty water, Taylor arrived at Winslow High. She hunched over, making herself smaller as she walked up the steps to her own personal hell. She pretended to not notice the snickering of her peers as she passed, ignoring their jeers of “She looks like a drowned rat,” or “Must have shut off the water if she’s bathing in the sewer.”

Taylor moved to her locker, jimmying the locking mechanism that seemed to stick more and more as she used it throughout the year. A loud BAM sounded next to her that caused her to jump, heart beating out of her chest. She looked around to see no one, only hearing the snickers of a group of girls passing by.

The group, while mostly consisting of cronies that delighted in making her miserable, included some of Taylor’s faaaavorate people. Madison was in a warm looking pink jacket, contrasted with the skirt she insisted on wearing despite the cold of the season, covering her mouth as she failed to hold back her annoying laughter. Sophia, who Taylor suspected was the cause of her mini-heart attack, looked at Taylor like she was a bug on the bottom of her shoe; when Taylor avoided eye contact, Sophia smirked, holding her head a little higher. Taylor’s eyes drifted between the other faces until she made eye contact with Emma, her best-friend-turned-worst-enemy, who smiled sweetly at her.

“Oh, Taylor. Did your family forget to pay the water bill again? You can’t just bath in a sewer; you already smell as it is. No need to make it worse,” Emma’s mock pity and concern cut through any conversation around them like she had spoken in a megaphone.

Taylor looked away, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. ‘Asshole…’ Taylor grabbed her books and shut the door to her locker, attempting to rush past the group, only to be tripped by an outstretched foot.

Taylor let out a yelp as she fell, arms outstretched to catch herself as her books few forward out of her hands. Her palms stung with the impact, a wave of pain radiating up her arms and into her shoulders. She looked behind her, witnessing Sophia pull her foot back into place while smirking down at Taylor.

“Clumsy bitch,” she sneered, “Watch where you’re going. Wouldn’t want your garbage bath to stink up anyone else.” The rest of the group laughed cruelly as Emma walked over to Taylor's books, stepping on them with her expensive-looking shoes.

“Seriously, Taylor,” Emma cooed, kicking the books back at Taylor, hitting her in the stomach with them and forcing her to let out a gasp of pain, “you’re going to hurt someone with how clumsy you are. It’s almost negligent, although…” she pauses, putting a finger to her chin, crossing her arm over her stomach in mock thought. She glances down at Taylor, a small smile gracing her lips, “Must run in the family, huh?”

The group laughs again jeering at Taylor as they disguise their cruel words as ‘just trying to help.’ Taylor stands and pushes past Emma, forcing herself not to cry. ‘Asshole…asshole…ASSHOLE!’ Taylor’s thoughts screamed in her head. Emma was always good at using her cruel words like knife in Taylor’s heart. ‘How could she?!’

Since Taylor’s mother had died in that car accident two years ago, Emma had become more avoidant and distant, resulting in this: abandoning Taylor and actively using any form of confidence that had been given to her to cut right into Taylor’s feelings. Taylor could handle the physical abuse brought by Sophia and the jeering from Madison any day; Emma’s betrayal hurt, the girl expertly using their past friendship to be as cruel as possible.

‘Let’s just get through the day,’ Taylor scrubbed at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, still determined not to let anything the Trio said get to her. Arriving at Mrs. Knott’s classroom for homeroom, Taylor slipped inside and took a seat near the back of the room, away from the normal seats of Madison and her lemmings.

Madison and her group entered closer to the bell, settling in their seats while stealing glances at Taylor, giggling to themselves and whispering amongst each other. The glances and whispers set Taylor on edge, sending a shiver down her spine. She was not looking forward to whatever they had planned. Taylor wanted nothing more than for this day to end so she wouldn’t have to deal with them until the new year.

‘One more day, Taylor. Just hold out and you can finally catch a break…’ Taylor couldn’t hope for them to just ignore her. Their harassment had been constant and vicious. ‘Eventually they'll get bored…or maybe Emma will…’ she banished that deludedly hopeful thought. The idea that Emma would apologize for her behavior, and they could go back to how things were? Taylor had been tricked by that sentiment one too many times to be hopeful for that.

Time passed, homeroom ended, and Taylor trudged through the hallway to her World Issues class. Her clothes had dried somewhat at that point, but that was ignored in favor of focusing on a dread that seemed to follow her through her walk to class. Something was off, but she couldn’t tell what.

Mr. Gladly was his normal, 'Call me Mr. G' self as he attempted to curry favor with the popular kids, not assigning any real schoolwork, but instead putting on a movie.

“No one wants to work right before the holidays, right?” He joked, putting on some Hallmark crap about a young 20 something meeting the parahuman of their dreams. It was sickeningly sweet, had a pre-finale conflict separating the two lovebirds, and decidedly had nothing to do with the holidays, more focused on the relationship drama then the season. Definitely not Taylor’s type of movie, but at least she could avoid talking to people.

Emma and Madison shared this class with Taylor, and Taylor was doing everything in her power to avoid their attention. It was easier than it should have been. They would normally cause some sort of issue, even if Taylor had claimed a seat very much out of their way. Taylor hoped that this would continue throughout the day but wasn’t holding her breath for it.

As the bell rang to the end of class, Mr. Gladly called out to the students hurriedly packing their things, “Everyone, be safe during the break and let me know if you need anything! Just because it’s a holiday, doesn’t mean you can’t reach out if you need some help, or advice!” There were a few ‘Merry Christmas’’s and ‘Happy Holidays’’s thrown around, but Taylor quickly ducked out of the door.

Today was a half day, thank goodness, so only Computer class with Mrs. Knott was left. Taylor spotted Sophia walking down the hall toward Mr. Gladly’s classroom as Taylor slipped away, most likely meeting up with Emma and Madison before their next classes. Taylor would only need to avoid Madison in Mrs. Knott’s class, so she rushed as fast as she could while avoiding attention to get to her destination.

Taylor completed her work as quickly as possible during class and even completed her winter break assignments, ignoring the snickering behind her at the computers that Madison and her cronies had claimed. They were whispering something again, but Taylor refused to listen, sure that they were making comments about her that were _oooh_ so funny.

After wrapping up her final assignment for the break, Taylor looked at the time: she still had 30 minutes left of class to kill! Silently, Taylor brought PHO to see if anything interesting had updated since she had last checked the day prior.

Parahumans Online was the main compiled source of all thing’s cape: Superhero, Supervillain, and anything in between. It was a constant update of information from a cape’s suspected powers to the latest news around the globe.

Taylor began scrolling through the site, looking for anything new. The latest Behemoth attack seemed to have been less damaging than others. Clean-up was going well and there were less casualties than usual, too. Taylor sighed in relief: it could have been so much worse.

Endbringers, as the name implied, were creatures that had the potential to end the world, if not for the brave Capes who fought them. The latest, the Simurgh, had descended from the sky in 2002 in Lausanne, Switzerland, where she manipulated the populace into destroying everything in their path with her psychic scream until they were finally quarantined or…disposed of. The second, Leviathan, surfaced in 1996, taking the city of Oslo, Norway, into its domain of the sea while taking hundreds of thousands of lives with it.

Finally, the first, Behemoth, also known as the Hero Killer, initially appeared in Marun Fields in Iran in 1992. It had destroyed the second largest oil field in the world, taking a good number of Capes with it. It was the Endbringer with the highest kill count and would irradiate the land it walked upon, making the places it trod impossible to live, at least in Taylor’s lifetime.

Taylor clicked off the Endbringer forum after verifying that all the capes from Brockton Bay had survived the Endbringer attack, not wanting to go too in depth with that today and scrolled through other news. All that she found noteworthy was that the trial for Bad Canary had ended: the singer being sent to the Bird Cage for “assault with a parahuman power.”

The fact that Bad Canary was sentenced so harshly after a first offence when people like Lung, the leader of the Azn Bad Boys (who had constantly road the line of a Kill Order and was currently in line to the Bird Cage himself), or Kaiser (the Nazi in charge of Empire Eighty-Eight who had hurt and killed so many people either by ordering his fellow bigots to do it for him or doing it personally) were still at large was insane.

Taylor read through some of the case information for Bad Canary, only stopping once she noticed the time. She gathered her things into her bag and prepared to bolt, not wanting to remain for long with how Madison and her groupies were snickering with increasing frequency.

The bell rang, and Taylor quickly stood, shouldering her backpack and rushing to be the first out the door. She made a quick glance around her, spotting Emma and Sophia walking quickly toward her class. ‘Yeah, nope!’ Taylor fast walked in the opposite direction with her shoulders hunched and head down, determined not to get shit on anymore today. She heard the guffawing laughter of the trio, and Taylor’s face heating up involuntarily as she fled.

Taylor kept going, hearing the tap of multiple footsteps behind her. With that ambient dread at an all time high, Taylor all but sprinted out of the school with the sounds of sneakers hitting the floor behind her. Once she reached the entrance, Taylor kept running, hearing Sophia laughing her ass off at the door. ‘Bitch' Taylor thought, still sprinting to the bus. She slid to a stop in at its doors, trying to catch her breath as she boarded the bus.

Taylor slumped in one of the seats in the back, pulling her hoodie hood over her long curly brown hair. She caught her breath, peaking out the window. She saw the trio with their group, laughing together and looking pointedly at her bus.

She slumped even further, Taylor attempting to sink into the floor, to disappear like a ghost. Alas, a ghost she was not, and the bus departed, leaving the sound of laughter behind.

Taylor hopped off the bus when it reached her stop, but she didn’t want to head home yet. Her dad probably wouldn’t expect her for a few more hours, so Taylor shifted her bag and began to walk with no destination in mind. Her head was on a swivel; you could never be too careful in Today’s Brockton Bay. She passed a park that had long since fallen in disrepair. It wouldn’t hurt to sit and wallow for a bit, would it?

Taylor sat on a dilapidated swing set, testing her weight as it creaked in protest. No one was around, so Taylor dropped her bag by her feet, and pulled out a notebook and pen. Flipping through the pages, she stopped at a relatively clean page and began to write. She had begun to keep detailed accounts of what the trio had been doing, already filling three composition notebooks back home. This was her fourth, and she added today’s events in its pages.

‘Not much actually happened today,’ Taylor mused, her pen scratching in the silence. Once she finished, she stowed the book back in her bag for safekeeping, then sighed, leaning back while holding the rusty metal chains of the swing. ‘Maybe they just didn’t have time? Or they just didn’t want to try anything before the break…’

Taylor closed her eyes, feeling like she was missing something, but unsure what it could be. She began to swing back and forth, reveling in the feeling of the cold breeze on her face. When she opened her eyes, she realized that the sun was going done.

‘Crap,’ Taylor looked around, startled that time had gotten away from her. She stretched, working the kinks out of her shoulders and back. ‘Guess I should head home. Maybe I can ask Dad what was up this morning!’

Before Taylor could stand, placing her palms on her legs to prepare for the action, she heard a loud crash come from behind her, toward the jungle gym that had been standing behind her.

Taylor jumped and subsequently fell over as her arms and legs tangled in the swing set. Yelping, Taylor disentangled herself as quickly as possible from her prone position and jumped up, facing the source of the sound that had startled her.

The jungle gym was now in a pile of twisted metal and broken plastic. A small crater pushed through the thing into the ground where a boy a little younger than her lay. He had snow white hair that glowed in the shadows surrounding him, the low light of the sun highlighting the etherealness of it. He wore a black body suit with white accents and combat boots with some sort of symbol on his chest. His eyes were closed, tan face twisted in pain. Above him, a glowing green portal seemed to have been ripped into the air, a swirling nothingness inside.

Taylor blinked… then again… ‘Whaaaat’ Taylor’s mind had stalled. The boy groaned, shifting his weight experimentally as he moved to get out of the crater he had formed. His eyes fluttered open, piercing green poking through the slits. Taylor shuddered, not knowing why the sight of the boy was sending her for a loop. His suit reminded Taylor of a Cape, but…no mask? And who was he?

Taylor heard a snarl of rage, and another figure emerged from the portal above the boy, slamming into him with a loud crack. A gasp of pain came from the boy as the second figure, a vampire-looking man with black hair, bright blue skin, and red eyes that seemed to burn into the kid he was now holding up by the neck. The white-haired boy let out a strained breath as he tried to take one in, grabbing at the vampire’s arms to get free.

“You, Little Badger, are testing my patience,” the vampire man snarled, squeezing the boy’s throat further, “If you would just listen for once in your pathetic life…”

“Maybe… you should…get a…life…” the boy gasped, attempting to kick and scratch at the man holding him. A green liquid was dripping from the back of his head where it had contacted the ground.

Taylor looked at the scene, transfixed. She should call someone…the police, or the PRT, or the Protectorate. She shouldn’t be standing here stunned like this. That boy was in trouble and was bleeding because that was definitely blood and-

The vampire sighed, as though dealing with an impudent child that he was scolding and not a boy who he was choaking the life out of, “Enough, Daniel. Your fit has gone on long enough and I am taking you home. And while I agree that your Father is a useless oaf, your Mother does truly care for you, as I do. So, stop this nonsense and lets…”

The man paused, looking up to the portal as it winked out of existence. He blinked, his whole body freezing as he watched it happen. He seemed stunned for a few seconds, as though his whole brain was trying to process what had happened, while the boy continued to fight against his hold.

“…” The silence stretched, only broken by the boy’s struggling and the pounding in Taylor’s ears (oh, that was her heart). The vampire slowly turned his head back to the boy, and Taylor could feel the pressure rising around her. A pissed vampire was not a good vampire, in her personal opinion.

“Daniel…” The man said in deadly calm, “Please tell me you know how to open that portal again…”

There was another pause, where the boy, Daniel, ceased his struggling and looked up to where the portal had been. The silence stretched, until Daniel looked back into the eyes of the vampire, blinked, then smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Weather Boy.”

The vampire snarled again, squeezing the living daylights out of Daniel again, throttling him with what seemed to be full force, “NOW ISN’T THE TIME FOR YOUR ILL-ADVISED REFERENCES, DANIEL!”

Taylor, be it from her stupidity or bravery (she couldn’t tell which at this point), had had enough. Hefting her bag into her arms, she sprinted at the vampire and bashed him in the head from behind with the bag, causing him to let Daniel go.

The boy gasped for air, dropping to the ground as he caught his breath. The vampire doubled over, shocked and confused by his sudden concussion. Taylor darted forward, grabbed the injured kid by the arm, and dragged him away from his attacker, sprinting as fast as she could out of the park.

‘Idiot, stupid, dumbass Taylor! What were you thinking!? You weren’t, that’s what you were doing! Fucking stupid!’ Taylor’s mind screamed at her as she ran. The boy had yelped at the sudden tug at his arm, sprinting with her as they went. Taylor could hear the raging of the vampire behind them, breaking things in the park while attempting to find where they had gone.

Taylor ducked into an open gated yard, dragging Daniel with her. She pulled him to put him behind her, tucking them both into the shadows of the fence. The boy was glowing brightly, a halo of white light surrounding him while banishing the darkness.

“Can’t you do anything about the light show?!” Taylor hissed at him, her heart thumbing in her throat. He flinched at her panic, the light around him dimming significantly. Taylor sighed in relief but had to stifle a yelp as she heard the vampire man raging through the street, trying to find them. She put an arm out in front of Daniel’s chest, pushing him further behind her and into the shadows.

“Daniel! Come out right this instant. Playing hide-and-seek will not save you.” The man seethed, landing in the street near their hiding place. Taylor held her breath, Daniel doing the same. The vampire paced around the area for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, before yelling, “Oh, cheese curds!” Which…just baffled Taylor, mouthing the words while rolling them around her tongue. ‘What a weirdo…’

The vampire flew off towards the south, still calling out to the boy behind her. When she could no longer hear his calls, Taylor let out a sigh of relief, her legs giving out on her. She slumped against the side of the house they were hiding, letting go of the boy’s arm. The boy flittered around her, clearly concerned but not sure what to do.

“Shoot, are you ok? I’m sorry, you shouldn’ta had to do that. Are ya hurt?” The boy stammered; his hands were held out in front of him as though he wanted to check her for injuries but didn’t want to intrude in her space.

“Me?! What about you! He was going to choke you to death!” Taylor was baffled how not affected the boy in front of her was to almost being killed by that villain.

The boy had the audacity to laugh at that, bringing his right hand up to the back of his neck and rubbing it.

“Well, if he did, I’d just match my insides, right?” He said with a grin, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. Taylor blinked up at him, staring him down. The boy’s expression faltered for just a second, glancing to the side to avoid her gaze, “Dang, tough crowd.”

Taylor let out a long, exasperated sigh, standing up and brushing off her pants. She looked the boy over again, seeing he still had blood dripping from his head and dark green handprints had begun to appear around his neck where the vampire had grabbed him. The boy was trying to hide it well, but he was hurting and was showing signs of exhaustion.

‘This is so stupid… he should go to a hospital…’ But something stopped Taylor from saying that aloud. She looked the boy over again, taking in his outfit and injuries. He shifted from left to right under her scrutiny.

“Soooooo…” the boy drawled out, looking back at her face, “you gonna say somethin, oooor…you’re not actually hurt, are ya?” His face shifted to concerned, looking her up and down too, presumably searching for injuries again.

Taylor shook her head, “No, I’m fine. I’m more worried about you,” looking pointedly at his bruised throat and bloodied head.

“Pshhh, naw, I’m fine. This’ll heal itself in a jiffy!” Daniel deflected, bringing a hand to his head and rubbing it, winching at the touch. He pulled his hand away from the injury and saw the bright green blood now coating his fingers, “Oh…oops.” He stared at it for a second, and Taylor just shook her head, letting out a huff of incredulous laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Daniel held out his hand, beaming at Taylor with a lopsided grin, “The name’s Danny, nice ta meet ya!” Taylor stared blankly at his bloodied hand. Daniel, because calling him Danny in Taylor’s head would get confusing considering her Dad's name, looked at his outstretched hand and sheepishly pulled it back, wiping it on his pants.

“Soooooo…” Daniel paused, drawing out the sound as he rocked back and forth, looking around, “Where are we?”

Taylor looked at the boy who didn’t seem all that concerned about he’s predicament, and sighed, “Brockton Bay.”

Daniel cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy; Taylor could almost see the question mark appear over his head.

“Where?”

“Brockton Bay, New Hampshire.”

“Where?”

Taylor sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire - 17 December 2010

“Okay, so just to make sure I’m following…” Taylor paced back and forth in front of a floating Daniel, bobbing up and down in the air while sitting crisscross, his arms crossed in front of his body.

“You were minding your own business-” “I was!” Daniel interrupted, puffing out his cheeks in a pout, which Taylor ignored, “when Mr. Vampire-Wannabe came and started a fight? Then he bashed you into a portal from your dimension to here?”

“Exactly! I was learnin a new skill, you know, broaden my horizons or whatever, when that Frootloop decided to make himself into an even bigger nuisance then he already is!” Daniel threw up his hands in the air in exasperation.

“So, you have no idea how to get back? You said you opened that green portal thing, right?” Taylor crossed her arms and shivered. The night air was getting to her, the sun already setting a few minutes ago.

“I mean…” Daniel brought his arms close to himself again, grabbing his chin while thinking, “I could definitely try, but I just learned how, like, twenty minutes ago…”

The glowing boy shifted his weight in the air and brough his feet to touch the ground. His face scrunched up in concentration, then he raised his arm, bringing it down in a swiping motion as though he was attempting to claw something in front of him. There was a pause, where he held the pose for a split second and waiting for something to happen.

When nothing did, Daniel groaned in frustration and then began to swipe wildly in the air in different directions. After about a minute of this, Taylor had her face in her hands, trying not to laugh as Daniel began swearing in pastry and book names.

“Son of a biscuit! Cake eating Lord of the Flies!” Daniel’s struggles continued until Taylor took pity on the poor sap, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Daniel flinched minutely at the contact, so imperceptible that if Taylor herself did not do so on the regular, she wouldn’t have noticed. The boy looked at her, his face tan face flushed green, “Listen…” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped away from her touch, “You don’t have to stay with me, ya know. I’m sure your family is waiting for ya. 'Sides,” he gave her a wry grin, “I’m used to gettin myself out of sticky situations like this!”

Taylor worried her bottom lip, thinking. She could just leave him. It’s not like she owed him anything…If anything, he owed her! She did get him away from that Vampire cape after all… ‘But this seems like more trouble than it’s worth…’ Taylor sighed, side-eyeing Daniel as he scratched the back of his head. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, and some of the bruising that she had spied had all but disappeared. ‘Definitely has advanced healing then…’

Could she just leave him to figure it out for himself?

“Real quick, just to make sure: You are a Cape, right?” Taylor asked, hesitating slightly. If he was a cape, he’d be Case 53, surely. His glowingness, the white hair, the green-tinted tan skin…Normal humans don’t have any of that. Would he even be able to hide himself properly? Was it Taylor’s business? No, but she was a bit invested at this point…

“Uuuuum…” Daniel looked at her, confusion painting his features, “I mean…I don’t have one on me? Why, do I need one here? I can’t turn into a cape, if that’s what you mean. It didn’t seam like I needed one.” The boy shot a teasing grin at her.

Taylor paused. “What? No, a Cape. You know, superpowers? I doubt that people in your dimension glow and float normally…or do they…?” It was a possibility. The Vampire man had done the same, so maybe it was normal there.

“OH! Yeah, not really. I used to do some hero work on the side, but I came to an agreement with my ghosts of the week to stop messin with people! No, my original dimension was definitely just normal folks!” Daniel brought his hand to the back of his neck again and rubbed it, looking away, “But now I live in the Zone, and everyone is basically the same there, give or take a few specialties!”

Taylor nodded along, attempting to show she understood, but was becoming more confused. “So, you were a hero, but not anymore, and you were different, but not anymore, and everyone’s the same, but not really?” Her head spun just trying to wrap her head around it.

“Yep!” Daniel beamed, letting a popping sound release from his lips. He looked proud of himself for explaining absolutely nothing.

Taylor sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose while trying to kill the headache beginning to form in her head.

Daniel chuckled, “Yeeeeaaaah, I have that effect on people,” he grinned, lounging back in the air with his hand behind his head, without a care in the world. “Don’t think about it too hard, you’ll wake the dead with all that thinkin!”

Taylor mulled over Daniel’s words, thinking through what he had said. She looked up at him, the boy looking upward towards the clear night sky. He seemed distracted by something, but that just gave Taylor some time to think.

After a few more moments, Taylor’s eyes shot up to the floating boy, “You said ‘ghosts.’ What did you mean by that?”

The boy continued to look toward the sky, transfixed by something he saw there. Taylor let out a huff of annoyance, reaching out to tap him on the shoulder, “Daniel…”

As she made contact while speaking his name, the boy flinched, hard. He spun in the air, his arms out in front of him like a fighting stance, ready to brawl. Taylor backed away, hands in the air to show she wasn’t a threat. Daniel looked around for a second assessing the area for threats, then looked back to her while relaxing his body. His eyes, though, continued to look at her like she was a threat.

“Ha, sorry dude,” his hand rubbing his neck again, “startled me! But just call me Danny. The only folks who call me ‘Daniel’ are the guys who wanna kill me fully!” The boy chuckled to himself, still looking at her…assessing.

“Sorry,” Taylor began, but Daniel waved her off.

“No worries! Now, what did ya say? My head was in the atmosphere.”

“I…” Taylor shifted slightly, the boy’s eyes still assessing her. It was getting freaky how he didn’t blink. “I was asking…well you said… ‘ghosts’?”

Daniel stared at her for a split second more, letting the silence fill the space before his mouth shifted into a grin. Taylor shivered again, the air seeming to freeze with tension. The boy hadn't blinked since the jump, and it was unnerving.

“And?”

“Well, I…” Taylor began, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to run at any moment.

Daniel blinked, then laughed into the air, balling around himself like he told the funniest joke. The pressure Taylor had been feeling was cut like a hot knife through butter, melting away into frustration.

“You should see the look on your face!” He gasped, letting out a cackle. Taylor’s face burned red as she glared at the boy.

“That’s not funny!” She groused, folding her arms over her torso and huffed with indignation.

Daniel wiped a tear from his eye, shooting a sidelong glance at her, “Consider it payback for calling me ‘Daniel,’” he shuddered exaggeratedly.

Taylor huffed in annoyance, arms still crossed as she glared at the floating boy, “Are you going to answer my question or not?”

Daniel tilted his head, still smiling, “What question? I missed it.”

Taylor threw her hands up in the air, “Really? Making fun of me was more important than listening when someone is talking to you?”

Daniel floated in front of her, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, “Look, sorry sorry! I couldn’t help myself! I won’t do it again, scout’s honor!” He held up his right hand as he crossed his heart with his left.

Taylor glared at him, “I don’t think you ever were a scout…”

“Semantics.”

“I don’t think you know what that word means…”

“Anyway,” Daniel drawled out, “what was your question?”

“You said ‘ghosts of the week,’” Taylor let out a frustrated sound as she restated her question, “What did you mean by that? Just like people coming back from the past or something?”

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head, “Naw, I mean legit ghosts. Like the dearly departed, unfinished business, the whole cape and ca-boo-dle!” Taylor groaned and Daniel laughed, grinning from ear to ear.  

“So, what? You expect me to believe that you and Vampire-McGee are just…dead?” Taylor skeptically raised her eyebrow at the boy, “How’d you die then? Tried to annoy someone to death and accidentally do it to yourself?”

The reaction to her question was instantaneous: the temperature of the air dropped, and Taylor was easily able to see her own breath now, shuddering in the freezing cold. Daniel’s whole demeanor shifted, closing himself off as scars that Taylor had not noticed began to glow a sickening green, pulsing with light up the right side of his face.

Taylor took a step back as Daniel let out a shuddering breath, then a self-deprecating chuckle.

“Maybe… don’t ask how someone died, yeah?” The boy shook out his right arm, as though shaking it awake after it had fallen asleep, the light from the scars fading with the motion, “Kinda rude, don’tcha think?” He gave her a small smile.

Taylor blinked, the temperature returning to the slight chill of December air rather than the frozen tundra she had just felt. ‘Noted,’ she thought, rubbing her arms.

Daniel shifted to land his feet on the ground, his smile back in place, “Anyway, while it’s been fun, I gotta jet! Plasmius could come back anytime, and I really don’t want him to mess with you if I can help it!” The boy gave her a smile, the seriousness from earlier but a memory.

‘He’s got golden retriever energy for sure… it's giving me whiplash.’ Taylor mused to herself, then stopped, “Wait a second!”

Daniel froze for a second in a pose that suggested he was about to fly off. “What?”

“You can’t go around like that. The gangs will clock you from a mile away.” Taylor sighed, ignoring Daniel's snort of laughter, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

Daniel shifted back to a neutral state, tilting his head to the side, “Not really, but I figure I’ll figure it out. This happens aaaaaall tha time! I’m not worried!” He smiled at her reassuringly.

“No, you don’t understand. If the gangs find out there is a new cape like you who has no idea what’s going on, you're toast. They’ll kidnap you and force you to work for them!” Taylor ran her fingers through her hair, trying to think. Daniel just crossed his arms in front of himself again, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I’d like to see 'em try. Been there, done that, got the tee-shirt! At this rate, I’m gonna win Kidnapping Bingo!” He beamed as though he hadn’t just said something horrifying.

“I’m just trying to get you to understand that it’s dangerous here, especially for someone who has no idea what’s going on. Hold on, let me think…” Taylor began to pace again, trying to think of the best solution, “Oh! I know! We can contact the Protectorate! They should know what to do and be able to keep you safe.”

“What’s that? Sounds fancy!” Daniel leaned in slightly to listen to her think outload.

“The Protectorate are the government Capes, heroes who…”

“Absolutely not.”

Taylor spun on her heel to look at the boy who had interrupted her. His face was stubbornly pointed away from her, refusing to look her in the eye.

“Why?”

“Bad history with the government. Not interested in gettin bad blood here.” Taylor squinted at Daniel, the boy still not looking her in the eye.

“Ooookaaaay…” Taylor drawled out, “Do you have an idea where to sleep then, Casper?”

Daniel let out a laugh, his eyes darting back to her face with mirth shining through, “Casper? Really?”

“You said you’re a ghost, Ghost Boy. So, Casper. Now answer the question.”

Shifting from leg to leg, Daniel put his arms behind his head in a relaxed gesture, “Not really, but sleeping on the street isn’t new.”

Taylor sighed again, “Did you not listen to what I said? Someone as obvious as you will get snatched up by the gangs in a second. It’s too dangerous to sleep on the street as a Cape, especially a glowing one.”

“I don’t know what to say, dude,” Danny looked up to the sky again, “I’m cool ruffin it till my friends come get me or I figure out tha portal thing. No biggy.”

Taylor shifted her stance, bringing her hand to her chin in thought, “Okay…okay how about this…” She looked back up to Daniel’s face who raised his eyebrow again at her, “You said you used to be a hero, right?”

“Yeaaaaah?” Daniel looked confused at the non sequitur.

“So, you know how to protect yourself in a normal situation, right?”

“Hypothetically…” the boy looked cautious now, giving Taylor a critical look.

“And you have no place to stay, and you have friends who will be coming to get you or you will figure out the portal thing eventually, right?”

“Okay, where is this goin? Cause ya already have these answers and you’re freakin me out.”

“I’m trying to say that…maybe you could crash at my house for a bit…” Taylor trailed off, then exclaimed, “BUT! Only if you can teach me to defend myself.”

Daniel just stared at her, eyes wide and confused, “And why would I do that? Why would you do that? The jump in logic is confusin me.”

“You're by yourself, alone, with a weird Vampire Cape hunting you. You have nowhere to go and if you stay on the street, you could get captured by gangs and forced into crime. They have ways of keeping people they capture, through violence or coercion, and they will find a way to keep you there.” Taylor began pacing again, “You know that you have people coming, but by the time they get here, you could be in too deep with whatever happens here. I’m sure you don’t want to stay,” she paused, glancing at Daniel who nodded his head, “Then you don’t want to get to involved with the local crap.”

Daniel gasped, and Taylor looked back at him, confused, “What?”

“Language…” Daniel looked at her like she grew a second head, an expression Taylor returned.

“What,” she questioned incredulously. Taylor shook her head returning to her train of thought, “Anyway, since you don’t want to go to the Protectorate, and you don’t know anyone here but me, you don’t really have many options…you can stay at my house, temporarily, while you wait for your friends. In the meantime, you can teach me to defend myself. As I said, the city is dangerous, and I’d like to be able to take care of myself.”

“Degenerate, swearing like a sailor…” Daniel stage whispered, then in a normal volume, “Okay, I guess I get your logic, but, and hear me out on this,” he spread his arms out in front of him, like presenting a magic trick, “Why?”

“Because…” Taylor’s mind raced with options on what she could say, then she blurted out, “You owe me!”

“Exqueeze me?” Daniel let out a chuckle, “I owe you?”

“Yes, you do,” Taylor puffed herself up with what she hoped was confidence, and not just like an indignant cat, “I distracted the Vampire and got you away from him.”

Daniel paused for a moment, looking at her with amusement. Taylor kept up her confidence act, hoping that this was enough.

After a few seconds of silence, the boy doubled over while clutching his stomach, laughing his ass off.

Taylor’s face turned beet red once more, sputtering as she said, “What!? I-I’m right, a-aren’t I? He was choaking the life out of you and I saved you!”

Daniel kept laughing, tears gathering in his eyes, “No *wheeze* y-you’re r-right *cough cough*! In a manner of speakin,” he rolled into the air, still laughing.

Taylor did huff indignantly this time, rolling her eyes while trying to calm down the red of her face, “Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up, Casper.”

Daniel’s laughter began to fade, and when Taylor looked back at him, he was smiling at her.

“Ya know what, sure,” Daniel grinned, “I’d totally go along with it, cause why not, but unfortunately, my dear hero has yet to give me her name.” He snapped his fingers together, “Darn, well, ya know how it is: stranger danger and all. Looks like I can’t go with ya,” he began to float away from her, “Guess you’ll just have to live with my thanks, Hero!” He gave a small salute, intent to leave clear.

“WAIT!” Taylor exclaimed grabbing his hand. The boy flinched hard again, slipping his hand out of hers. Taylor froze, her hand outstretched. That was the third flinch, she counted. Once, coincidence, twice, a pattern, third time…

“T-Taylor…” she stammered, pulling her hand back. “M-My name is Taylor. Not strangers anymore, right?” She looked up at the floating boy.

He looked down at her, his eyes searching for…something, the piercing green met her bespectacled brown ones. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then smiled.

“Taylor…nice ta meet ya.” He held out his hand again to her, and she took it, this time sighing with relief.

‘Good to know that not all my social skills are total shit.’ Taylor thought to herself as Daniel lowered back to the ground, his feet tapping into the grass.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel,” Taylor stopped at the face the boy made and corrected herself, “Danny.”

He beamed at her, his face lighting up as his freckles glowed like stars, “That’s me!” He took a step back from her and completed the most over-the-top showmanship bow Taylor had ever seen, “Danny Phantom at your service, Taylor the Hero!”

“Shut up, Casper.” Taylor grumbled. Danny’s laughter filled the air as Taylor’s face pulled in a reluctant smile.

“Okay, since you agreed to help me, we’re partners for the time being,” Taylor started, as Danny’s laughter died down, “how are we getting you to my house? No offence, but you glow like a glowstick.”

Danny snorted, then, with his only warning being, “Watch your eyes,” his body was surrounded with glowing white rings that burned into Taylor’s retinas. Letting out a pained “ack” as she covered her eyes, she blinked away the light spots as the light grew around the boy, then dimed.

Once she recovered, Taylor squinted toward where Danny had been. In his place stood a boy of the same build, but instead of glowing white there was a fluffy black mop of hair that fell into his ice blue eyes. His outfit had shifted from the combat suit that he had been wearing into a white shirt with a red oval on his chest and baggy jeans. He wore a black, long sleeve shirt under the white, covering his arms, and red sneakers that had seen better days were comfortable on his feet. His skin tan skin had turned pale, the star-like freckles shifting to a scattering of normal ones. He held out his hands in front of him, giving Taylor the cheesiest Jazz Hands she had ever seen.

“Ta-daaaaa!” The boy exclaimed, grinning at Taylor’s dumfounded expression.

“…This might as well happen…” Taylor sighed, walking away from the boy as he trailed after her, grinning like a crazy person.

“Now, that’s the spirit!” Danny exclaimed, causing Taylor to groan in displeasure which set off another cackle of glee from the boy.

A long night, indeed.

Chapter Text

Infinite Realms

A King's Knight does not panic. Such a petty emotion was beneath the protector of the crown. But when Fright Knight could no longer feel the presence of his King on his core… Well, let’s just say he was concerned. When Wulf returned to the castle without the youngling…

Fright Knight did not panic. He took one look at the werewolf ghost, their own fear feeding Fright Knight’s Halloween core, and the Knight's first instinct was to behead the wretch where he stood. The Knight wouldn’t, of course, as that would upset his young king. But he was tempted, nonetheless.

Fright Knight did not panic. He mulled over the facts: the King and his friend (an instructor who was meant to keep him safe), had gone to an isolated part of the realms to practice portals. Then the cur, Plasmius, had interrupted the lesson. 'I should have been there…not helpful .' Plasmius had used clones to trick and out-maneuver the King, pushing the youngling through one of his own, freshly made portals…to an unknown destination…

Fright Knight did not panic. He grabbed the wolf by the scruff of the neck and dragged him atop Nightmare, his beautiful and horrifying horse companion. Wulf never liked the steed, whimpering as he was forced to mount the embodiment of night terrors. Fright Knight couldn’t bring himself to care.

Fright Knight was not panicking. Not even when he missed his turn toward Clockwork’s Tower, needing to double back more than once to reach the elusive place. Frustration gripped at the Knight’s core. 'This is taking too long. The King could be…DON’T THINK.'

Fright Knight was not panicking as his steed crashed through the large wooden double doors of Clockwork’s Tower in the In-Between. The Knight certainly wasn’t panicking as he threw Wulf off Nightmare, Fright himself dismounting in one fluid motion. His emotions certainly did not betray him as the flames surrounding his helmeted head threatened to overtake the rest of his body in rage at the fact that he had failed his King…AGAIN…

Fright Knight did not panic or throttle the purple-cloaked Ancient of Time as he stalked forward, said Ancient calmly sipping tea at his well-stocked table, two other cups awaiting the intruder’s arrival.

“Lord Kronos,” Fright Knight greeted, but did not incline his head. He was far to heated for due formality. Wulf groaned behind the Knight, pushing himself off the tiled floor of the tower from where he had been dropped.

“Loyal Knight. Wulf.” Clockwork greeted back, inclining his head to both his guests, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your unannounced visit?”

“You, the God of Time, mentor of our beloved King, do not know what the purpose of our intrusion is?” The Knight shifted, his arms crossed behind him, “I find that extremely difficult to believe.”

The ancient’s body morphed, changing from the young man that had been to an older one, the fresh, clean face replaced with wrinkles and a white beard. The blue skin, red eyes with a scar through the left eye, and the window through his chest leading to a grandfather clock’s innerworkings stayed constant, all the while looking at the _not_ distressed knight.

“Right you are, Knight,” Clockwork waved his hand to the empty chairs, “Have a seat. Not to worry. All is as it should be.”

The Knight did not grumble as he strode forward, standing behind one of the empty chairs. Wulf moved forward cautiously, slipping into his own chair.

“Now,” the Ancient tapped a slender black staff topped with a stopwatch to the ground with a loud ‘clack,’ “to business.”

With the sound of the staff hitting the floor, large mirrors few off the walls, circling the three ghosts. Wulf’s head moved to attempt to track them, however Fright Knight’s eyes were focused on the ancient in front of them.

“You are correct, Fright Knight, that I am aware of the purpose of your visit,” the Ancient lifted his teacup to his mouth, taking a long sip. It took every bit of patience within Fright Knight’s soul to not shatter the small bit of china. “Young Daniel has gotten into trouble again.” The cup was set down with a gentle clink.

“Jes, Lordo Clockwork,” (Yes, Lord Clockwork) Wulf said hesitantly, looking back toward Fright Knights steely gaze before his eyes darted back to the elder ghost, “Mi instruis al li portalojn kaj Plasmius- “(I was teaching him portals and Plasmius-)

“Got in the way, as usual?” Clockwork chuckled, the image of one of the mirrors floating around them shifting to show the haughty Plasmius being hit by one of Danny’s ectoblasts. “Daniel has been getting better,” the Ancient mused, watching the fight between the two halfa, “a pleasant surprise, however he needs to work on his spatial awareness…”

“Lord Clockwork,” Fright Knight’s deep voice reverberated through the space, the shadows at the edges of the room shifting with his irritation, “while we appreciate your insight in the King’s fighting prowess, I would like to know the King’s current location so we might retrieve him.”

“Mi provis malfermi la saman portalon, kiun faris Danny, sed ial ĝi ne reaperos,” (I was trying to open the same portal that Danny did, but for some reason it won’t re-emerge) Wulf said, frustrated with his own lack of progress in finding where Danny had gone, “Mi sentas, ke mi estas proksima, sed ĝi simple...ne malfermos...” (I feel like I’m close, but it just… won’t open…)

“Well, of course it won’t,” Clockwork waved his hand dismissively, his staff falling from his hand and righting itself, floating in the space next to him, “He is currently doing his duty as King. As I said, no need to worry.”

“What. Do. You. Mean?” Fright Knight enunciated clearly and calmly, darkness curling around his legs now, Wulf flinching away from the creeping shadows.

“As I said,” Clockwork stated matter-of-factly, “King Daniel is doing his duty to the Realms. While a bit unorthodox in the delivery method, he is still doing what needs to be done. There has been a rot for some time that the King must cut out.”

“I tire of your riddles, Ancient,” Fright Knight hisses through gritted teeth, “We are asking for the King’s location, not his itinerary.”

Clockwork chuckles, shifting forms again. This time, he takes the form of a young child, his ghostly tail curling around himself, “I’m sure you are, Knight. However, giving you the answers will not help Daniel with his task. A task long overdue.”

The child-like form Clockwork had embodied drifts up from his chair, approaching another mirror with a scattering of stars, “A threat is worming its way through its dimension, attempting to burrow through the vale. It is a threat that has been known for some time, and now is the time to repair the damage.”

Wulf let out a small whine of displeasure, “Mi superis la ne-respondojn. Eble estas pli rapide komenci malfermi portalojn kaj esperi la plej bonan.” (I’m over the non-answers. It might be faster just to start opening portals and hope for the best.)

“I agree, Sir Wulf. It seems we have wasted our time.” Fright Knight let out a puff of air, the shadows around them retreating into the corners of the room, “We will find our own way to His Highness. There is no need for him to accomplish this duty alone.” The Knight turned on his heel, headed toward the door. Wulf, startled at the abrupt egress, stumbling to his feet as he rushed after his companion.

“Do what you must,” Clockwork called after the two as the mounted Nightmare and turned to leave, “Daniel will be awaiting your arrival, however long you may take to reach him.”

Fright Knight felt a chill run down his spine as they set off back into the Realms, hearing one last comment from the Ancient of Time.

“He will not be the same when you find him. But he will still be himself.”

Fright Knight spurred his steed forward, racing through the ectoplasm green air of the Realms with Wulf clutching the back of his armor to stay on. 'We need to find the King quickly. I will not fail again,' Knight thought desperately.

They knew that the King’s existence still shined its starlight into the Realms, even if they didn’t know where he was. That fact alone made the trip to the Tower worthwhile. Now all they needed was to find their wayward King.

Fright Knight did not panic. He was above such a petty emotion.

But he did worry.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire - 17 December 2010

Danny was having a great time! He had been through many power mishaps in the past (more then he cared to count really), and honestly, this one? 9/10 would recommend. So far, he hadn’t been caged up, blasted at, or attacked, at least by anyone other than Plasmius (he didn’t count though; he always did that). Walking down an empty and quiet street with the first in-person human he’s seen in about 7 months? He could think of worst ways to spend his time.

Taylor the Hero was walking two steps ahead of him, confidence in her strides but worry and stress rolling thickly off of her in sheets. ‘She’s pretty cool,’ Danny thought, giving her an assessing once over, ‘She hasn’t even tried to kill me yet. Progress!’

One cool new power Danny had discovered since moving to the Realms was that he could sense the emotions of those around him. Sometimes, he was able to see them as though they were a physical presence in the air, colors and textures drifting through the breeze as they exuded from those around him. For others, they were a taste or a smell, or even an invisible presence that would cling to his skin. It was like an upgrade to his everyday ghost sense, but involving the feelings of everything, not just ghosts.

Danny's arms resting behind his head, keeping up with Taylor’s pace.

“Soooo, what kinda heroes ya got here,” Danny questioned, eyeing Taylor’s facial expressions. She looked back at him over her shoulder, then looked up thoughtfully.

“Well, in town we have Miss Militia, Armsmaster, Assault and Battery, the Wards…” She continued listing names like Danny knew who they were, counting them off on her fingers, “like Vista, Aegis, Shadow Stalker’s new, Clockblocker…”

“Okay, but like, who’s your favorite?” Danny interrupted, keen to learn about her.

“Oh, um… Maybe Alexandria or Armsmaster? Both are pretty cool, for different reasons, I guess, but yeah.” Taylor shrugged, “I haven’t put much thought into it. If I had to pick, one of them, definitely.”

“Yeah? Why so?”

“Alexandria is one of the Triumvirate, along with Legend and Eidolon. They’re like the top heroes in the world. Alexandria’s the second-in-command for the Protectorate and is insanely smart, invulnerable, and can fly,” Taylor began to speak animatedly, her hands staying close to her body as she seemed to calculate something unknown on her hands while talking. The emotions emanating from the girl went from tense anxiety to a lighter enthusiasm and confidence. “She is one of the most well-known and respected heroes there are, like, if she appears on the scene, you know everything will be fine. She also doesn’t seem like she could give two shits about what others think about her.”

Danny let out a stifled gasp at Taylor’s use of the curse words, and, like an indignant grandmother, he clutched his non-existent pearls, “Does she have a potty mouth like you, Hero? 'Cause that’s two for two, Sailor.”

Taylor, caught off guard by his interruption, looked at him like he was the crazy one, “What the hell are you talking about? I’m just talking normally…” Confusion and bafflement floated through the air.

“Anyway, what about the other one? Armsmaster?” Danny continued, moving ahead of Taylor and beginning to walk backwards, arms back behind his head.

“I…yeah, Armsmaster. He’s a tinker. He makes these interesting machines and stuff,” the girl hesitated, slightly narrowing her eyes at Danny. “He has a massive halberd that has a bunch of cool stuff in it. There are videos of him tasing criminals with it,” Taylor began to get animated again, making a slightly aborted motion as though jabbing someone, her emotions shifting back to confident.

“He’s the head of the local branch of the Protectorate, and I’m pretty sure he designed the Rig too,” she paused, seeing the confusion on Danny’s face, “That’s the headquarters for the local branch.”

Danny nodded along, “Goootcha. Are there no, like…non-government heroes?”

Taylor shrugged, “Oh yeah, sure. There’re the New Wave heroes like Brandish or Glory Girl, or the Rogues who aren’t aligned with either side, like Shadow Stalker before she joined the Wards. There are some mercenary types, too, but I’ve only heard of them through the news aligning with villains.”

Danny’s head spun with the information dump, then Taylor exclaimed, amusement dominating her emotions, “Oh! You might like Mouse Protector!”

“Mouse Protector?” Danny laughed, “Why?”

“Because she is the cheesiest hero around,” Taylor smirked as Danny burst into laughter, “She was one of the first Wards and became an independent hero after aging out! She’s all about making people happy while keeping them safe.”

“That-that’s awesome!” Danny gasped for air, “She sounds like a gouda time!” Taylor groaned good-naturedly, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Has she mouse-tered the art of tail-twitching puns? She could probably squeak by with the best of 'em'! A shrew-d lady if ever I heard of one,” Danny kept going, making Taylor hold one hand to her face, trying and failing to keep in the laughter. Danny could see the exasperation and amusement drift into the air.

“Stop, stop! My sides! This was a mistake!” Taylor gasped, holding her other hand to her side as reluctant joy leaked free. Danny grinned at her, the spark of victory shining in his eyes.

“A mouse-take?” Danny wiggled his eyebrows at the girl, causing Taylor to bat at him with her hand. He let it hit his shoulder as he laughed.

“Aaanyway,” Taylor drew out, regaining most of her composure, the small smile still on her face, “Mouse Protector can do some sort of teleporting thing. It’s kinda cool when you see it, not that I’ve seen it in person.”

“Got it!” Danny nodded, “Oh, and ya said it a few times now, but what’s ‘Wards’?” Danny questioned, finger-quoting at the mystery word.

“They are underage heroes with oversight from the Protectorate. They are supposed to learn how to be heroes in a controlled environment, to prevent injury to themselves and others.”

“Sounds like babysittin,” Danny observed, “Nyooooo thank you.”

Taylor shrugged, “I kinda agree. I know I wouldn’t want to give all my autonomy to the Protectorate if I got powers.”

Danny looked at her skeptically, “Then why did ya tell me to go there?”

Taylor gave Danny an ‘are you stupid’ look, “Because usually if someone comes from another dimension, they are lost and confused, or so I’ve read. The Protectorate has programs for integration and stuff, so usually that’s the best option for people like that. But nooo, you don’t trust the government…”

“What can I say, I’m a rebel,” Danny smirked, then promptly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, falling face first into a patch of mud. Taylor let out a bark of laughter as Danny grumbled, “Who put that there?”

Snickering, the girl held out a hand to the disgruntled boy, “Come on, Casper. We’re almost there.” Danny took her hand, and Taylor pulled him up, surprise coloring her emotions. Danny assumed it was due to how light he was. As if confirming his suspicions, Taylor squinted at him, taking in his thin frame and baggy clothes, “When was the last time you ate anything?”

Danny cocked his head to the side, and after trying and failing to scrape some of the mud off his unfortunate shirt, put his hands behind his head again to cradle the back of his neck, “Uuuum…a bit? At least a few days.” Taylor stared at him for a split second longer as suspicion leaked slightly from her, then she began to walk forward again.

“It’s over here,” She pointed toward a non-descript house, a white work truck parked in the driveway.

“Cool beans!” Danny trailed after her, looking around at the house. It was a two-story family dwelling that seemed well worn and well loved, if not slightly in disrepair. Danny could feel the emotions from the building, a warmth blanketing over the residence. Danny peered closer, noticing frayed holes and patches in the feeling blanket, as though it was torn and burned with attempts to repair it. It felt like…

“Mind the step,” Taylor said offhandedly, hopping up to the porch.

“Huh,” Danny said intelligently as he stepped directly on the offending step, leg punching through the board with a loud crack. Taylor stopped in her tracks and and slowly looked back at him. Danny’s eyes were wide with shock as he looked down at his leg half buried in the wooden wreckage.

His eyes shot up to Taylor’s, panic filling his voice, “I can fix it!”

Taylor started cracking up again, covering her mouth and turning away while her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Danny’s face settled into a pout, pulling his leg out of the step with a huff, “Coulda warned me…”

“I-pffff-I did,” Taylor turned her head to look over her shoulder, the picture of innocence if not for the stifled laughter, “Not my fault you didn’t listen.”

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, woah is me! My Hero has forsaken me,” Danny leaned against the step railing, draped over it as though he was a fainting damsel.

The girl let out a snort of laughter, rolling her eyes at the dramatic boy, “Whatever, Casper. Move it,” she turned and walked to rest of the way toward the door, then stopped as the door swung open, revealing a tall man with glasses in the threshold.

“Taylor Hebert! Where have you been?!” The man demanded sternly, causing Taylor to back up a step. “I have been worried sick! You should have been home over two hours ago!”

“I- Dad, I’m sorry, I-” Taylor was interrupted by the man, his face angry, but Danny could feel the relief and concern practically pouring from him in waves. Danny stiffened at his approach; even if he was concerned, there was no need to yell at his kid like that.

“No, Taylor; no excuses! I was this close to calling the police,” he held his fingers about an inch apart from each other at the girl’s eye level, “Anything could have happened to you! You know how dangerous it is out there at night!”

“Dad, I-”

“No! Do you have any idea what I-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Danny said flatly, looking unimpressed at the man who was definitely going to regret not listening to his daughter within the next few hours if he didn’t nip this in the bud, “but she was helping me. Your daughter is a kind person who couldn’t leave a lost kid by themselves. I suggest you listen to her before biting her head off. I get you were worried, but maybe listen to your kid,” he finished harshly.

The man was stunned into silence and Taylor was looking between the two with wide eyes, shifting her focus back and forth like at a tennis match as anxiety overtook her. The man stared at Danny for a few seconds, his eyes drifting up and down the boy’s frame, taking in his disheveled hair, the baggy clothing, the dirt and mud that covered him from his fall, and then down to his feet.

“Who…you’re bleeding,” the man stated dumbly. Taylor startled and pulled all her focus on Danny, who was now looking down to his legs.

“Oh, fudge rounds!” Danny exclaimed, because, indeed, his leg was bleeding red blood profusely on the steps of Taylor’s house.

“Crap!” Taylor ignored Danny’s indignant cry of “Language!” at her curse as she pulled him up the steps, “We gotta get you inside and put pressure on it!”

“Taylor, it’s fine,” Danny grumbled, trying to pull out of her grip, still eyeing her father warily, “I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine in a sec.”

“No, come in. We need to get that looked at,” Taylor’s dad said worriedly, concern flowing from him as he leaned in to help. When Danny backed out from his reach, the elder man halted in his tracks.

“I should go. I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Danny said to Taylor, trying again to move out of her grip.

“Quit being difficult. We had a deal,” Taylor retorted sternly, dragging the reluctant boy into the house.

A bit stunned, Taylor’s father looked back at the blood now dripping down his front steps and turned back inside, closing the door behind him.

“Taylor-”

“Give me a sec, Dad,” Taylor settled Danny onto a well-worn couch in a cozy living room, propping up his leg to check the damage, “I’ll explain in a minute, after we get him patched up.”

The collapsed step had caused some wood to pierce through Danny’s leg, leaking blood everywhere. She winced, “How did you not notice this?!” She was shocked by the damage that stupid step had done.

“Eh,” Danny shrugged, “Guess my nerves are de- Ow!” Danny rubbed the bump on his head, curtesy of a swift whack by Taylor.

“Not now, Casper,” she huffed, taking a discarded towel and pressing it around the wound. Her father hurriedly exited the room, returning moments later with a first aid kit. He set it down next to his daughter, then shifted her out of the way to see the damage.

Danny stiffened again at the man approach, but held still as the towel was removed, “Yeah, that’s in there,” the elder man observed, “We need to take you to the hospital.”

“No way,” Danny said flatly, causing both Taylor and her dad to look up at him, startled, “It’ll heal on its own. Just pull the wood out and I’ll be fine.”

The adult’s disapproval was visible as he spoke, “Young man, this kind on injury can cause severe blood loss if we just pull it out. We don’t know what-”

Danny rolled his eyes and pulled his leg out of the man’s grip, grabbing the piece of wood and yanking. He used his other hand to swiftly grab the towel and stop the blood spraying from the wound from covering the nice couch. The dad panicked, moving forward to try to do something, but Danny scoffed at him, pressing the towel tight to his leg, “See, no biggy.”

“No biggy!? Big biggy! You can’t just-”

“Dad!” The man turned to Taylor, who was pulling out bandages from the kit, “If he says it’s fine, it’s probably fine. He’s…well…” Taylor looked at Danny, waiting for his permission...for... Oh!

She didn't want to share his secrets without his permission. And that…that was actually nice of her. ‘Yeah, she’s good people, but cat’s out of the bag if my leg heals like it normally does,’ Danny thought, smiling at her while shrugging in a ‘why not’ gesture.

“He’s a Cape, Dad.”

The man just kneeled in front of Danny for a moment, stunned while looking between the injured boy and his daughter.

“A Cape…”

“Yep,” Danny said cheerily, popping the ‘p’, holding his hand out in a peace sign to the elder man, “100% bonified, genuine, grade A superhuman! You may now bask in my presence- OW!” Taylor wacked him in the head again. “RUDE! YOU’RE GOING TO GIVE ME A CONUSSION! I CALL ABUSE!”

Taylor ignored his brat behavior, “Dad, he was alone and being attacked by another cape. I couldn’t just leave him there!” She said, her shoulders set in righteous confidence.

Her father held his breath, “You-you got into the middle of a cape fight?”

“What?! No,” Taylor lied, like a liar, “I only helped him get up and away after the other one flew off!”

The Dad squinted at his daughter, trying to uncover the truth just by sheer force of will alone. Taylor’s shoulders stayed stubbornly squared, both refusing to back down.

“I see where ya get it from, Taylor,” Danny commented, leg nestled against his chest, pressure still being held on the injury, “He's as stubborn as you are.”

She whipped around to face him, “I’m not stubborn! I’m right! There’s a difference.”

Her father let out a startled laugh, breaking out of the standstill between the two, “Right: never argue with a Hebert woman. They’re right and you’re wrong.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Taylor finished proudly, as though this was something that the Hebert family shared; an in-joke said many times before. After it was finished, a somber melancholy filled the air. Danny’s eyes widened slightly, then understanding came quickly after. 'Oh…big house for two people…'

Danny looked back at Taylor, seeing a split second of stifled sadness and held back tears. Then it was gone, her full attention turned back to Danny.

“How long till that heals? I don’t want you bleeding all over my house.”

Danny barked out a laugh, then took towel away from his leg, “See? Good as new!”

Both Heberts looked down toward his leg, blood still covering the surface, but all that was left was a jagged round scar, angry red against his pale skin. Both onlookers shifted their heads back to Danny’s face, the boy grinning smugly at them.

“You could say-”

“No-” Taylor interrupted.

“that I have-” Danny said louder.

“No, Danny!” Taylor tried again to stop him.

“A LEG UP IN THE COMPETITION!” Danny yelled in victory over her, causing Taylor to groan in exasperation and her father to let out a surprised laugh.

“Guess you took a step in the right direction, huh?” Taylor’s father mused, causing Taylor to let out a shocked “Dad!” and making Danny beam at him.

“It’s my leg-acy, after all! I’m durable to my sole!”

“It’s good you heel quickly, or we would have knee-ded a new couch.”

“Noooooooo, now there are two of them,” Taylor said in dismay, falling flat on the floor and curling up into a ball, “I’m dead. I’ve died and gone to hell.”

“Come on, Taylor,” Danny looked down at her, glee coloring his voice, “We’re humerus, don’t you think?”

"THAT'S NOT EVEN IN THE LEG," Taylor shouted at the boy as he cackled.

Taylor’s dad chuckled, poking his daughter in the shoulder, “It’s alright, Owl. Just enjoy the knee-slappers.”

Taylor groaned on the floor again as Danny and her dad laughed, trading leg pun after leg pun, “What have I done.”

The two jokers finally finished their pun-off, laughter teetering off. Taylor’s dad let out one last sigh of contentment, then looked at Danny as though he came to an epiphany. Danny immediately felt warry, eyeing the man while trying to catch his breath from laughter.

The brown haired, bespectacled man smiled at Danny, holding out his hand to him to shake, amusement and mirth seeping out of his pores.

“Danny Hebert, nice to meet you, Danny,” he said with a large smile.

Danny immediately doubled over in laughter again, taking Danny Sr’s hand and giving it a strong shake, “Ah, I see! A man of culture! Always a pleasure to meet someone with the best name around!” He laughed as Taylor tried to sink into the floor, regret pooling under her.

“Hell…this is hell,” she moaned into the wood of the floor, seeming to regret every decision that led to this point. She peaked up, seeing the big smile on her dad’s face, and Danny felt happiness peak through her emotions.

‘Well,’ Danny thought, ‘At least she’s having fun.’

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire - 17 December 2010

Vlad was…frustrated. Was that the right emotion? He thought so as he glided through the empty streets of a suburban residential area, looking for where his Badger had gone.

“Daaaaniel,” he mused, his sing-song voice smooth like honey, “Come out now, dear boy. This hide-and-seek game of yours has gone on long enough. Time to return to where you belong: by your mother and my side.”

Vlad paused, waiting a beat to see if his Badger would take the bait. When no angry teen appeared, the adult halfa lost his temper again. He grabbed the nearest object to him, which just so happened to be a very nice-looking car, and threw it bodily overhead into a deserted park.

“Cheese biscuits!” The vampire-lookalike yelled into the sky, “Bri on toast! Stroopwafels!”

He continued to rant and rave, completely alone in the empty street, throwing anything he could get his hands on. After about a minute or two of stress relief, Vlad took a deep breath he did not need and exhaled. He looked around at the damage he had caused, and straitened his clothing, smoothing back some fly away hairs that had fallen out of place.

“Well,” the man huffed, “It seems as though Badger has moved into hiding again. Pity.” He continued to float down the street, searching for his wayward son-to-be.

As his search continued, he heard a motorcycle in the distance, loud and obnoxious coming closer to his location. The halfa ignored it, ‘Not my problem.’ He continued drifting, calling out for Daniel, hoping to goad him into action.

As he searched yet another park, ‘Why are there so many parks here? This is the 5th one within a 20-minute walk!’ the motorcycle sound had reached a crescendo, finally stopping at the entrance of the area.

Vlad looked over his shoulder, sparing a glance to the rude individual who would drive such a loud contraption this late at night, ‘Honestly, the nerve of such inconsiderate people.’ What he saw gave him pause.

There stood a tall man, rivaling Vlad’s own height, dismounted a sleek looking motorcycle that matched the armor Vlad had decided was a good fashion statement. It was sleek midnight-blue with silver accents, the armor covering the man head to toe excluding his lower face, which was uncovered and sporting a short, well-trimmed brown beard. He held a halberd, of all things, in his hand as he approached the entrance of the park on foot.

Behind the man was another motorcycle, this time sporting an olive-skinned woman wearing fitted army fatigues, an American flag bandana covering her mouth and lower face while a flag styled sash was tied around her waist. Her piercing green eyes seemed to shine slightly in the darkness, and she carried an…'is that an assault rifle?’

Vlad blinked in confusion at the two oddly dressed individuals. ‘Hmmmm…strange…’ Vlad’s feet thudded softly as he touched the ground, curious about the newcomers.

“State your name and intent,” the armored man announced loudly and clearly, his words cutting through the night air with purpose. Both individuals looked ready for a fight, and Vlad had no interest in starting one. At least…not right now. ‘Maybe this is what passes for this world’s law enforcement?’

“Greetings,” Vlad’s smooth voice carried through the air, a smile gracing his handsome face, “It is a pleasure. I go by Plasmius, and I am, sadly, looking for a lost child.”

The woman’s eyes widened slightly; Vlad was nowhere near as good at reading emotions in the air as Danial was, however, the confusion was etched on the woman’s face.

“You’re…looking for a lost child…” her doubt was palpable as Vlad nodded in assent.

“That is correct, madam. My godson is having a bit of a tantrum, you see,” Vlad crossed one arm over the other, bringing his free hand up to his head in exasperation, shaking it side to side, “Honestly, it’s a wonder he hasn’t gotten himself killed with his antics.” He chuckled, glancing at the two charmingly, “You know how children can get: always avoiding what their guardians tell them, even if it’s for their own good.”

The armored man stayed silent, watching Vlad like a hawk. It was getting disconcerting, and it didn’t help that Vlad was unable to see the man’s eyes. If he could, he may have been able to guess what the weirdo was thinking.

The woman relaxed slightly, taking a relaxed breath in, “Oh, I can see that. I don’t have kids myself, but ensuring civilians are safe can be the same.” She lowered her weapon slightly, weight shifting from her left side to her right, calm and comfortable. ‘Good.’

Vlad chuckled, keeping his arms visible to the two unknowns while separating two duplicates from himself invisibly. He began to have his clones slowly creep up to the interlopers while he continued to talk.

“Of course,” his voice a low hum, “It’s better if people could understand what’s best for them, really. Now I-” but he was interrupted by the armored man.

“You will state your name now, unknown. You are the prime suspect to damage to private property and disturbing the peace. Your reasons for such are not relevant.”

Vlad was startled by the man’s abruptness, confusion painting his face, “What? You…you asked me my intent. I am telling you that my intent was to find my godson. He has run off and-”

“True.” The man stated plainly, pointing his halberd toward Vlad’s chest, “While it’s true that you are looking for someone, most likely your godson, I know you are not telling us everything.” He shifted his head to the side, as though listening to something, then stated, “And even if you had told us everything, it does not change the fact that you have caused damage in your…search. You will be taken into custody now. Do not resist.”

Vlad just gaped at the man. ‘What is this man thinking…and how would he know what I did or didn’t do?’

The woman sighed, then looked at Vlad, “Sir, I understand that this may be inconvenient, but if you would just come quietly with us, we can get this settled quickly. No muss or fuss.” The skin around her eyes wrinkled, her smile evident behind the bandana.

Vlad sputtered, “Now I must insist-” he started, just as his clones got close enough to the two nuisances. Vlad’s eyes shifted, just for a moment, toward his clones, letting a small smile twitch on his face.

It all happened very quickly:

His clones dived, invisible, to attempt to possess the man and woman. The man’s head snapped to the side, looking directly into Vlad’s clone’s face, as he brought his halberd to strike the ground, letting off an electric pulse. It passed over the woman harmlessly, but the same could not be said about Vlad’s invisible, yet tangible clones. They shrieked in pain, shifting to the visible spectrum as the electricity shot threw them, causing them to pop and disperse.

The woman was startled for a split second, before drawing her weapon on Vlad and firing, a rain of bullets careening toward him. Vlad yelped, one bullet hitting its mark in his shoulder before he could activate his intangibility, the rest sailing through him as said intangibility activated.

The armored man rushed forward, intent on slicing him in half with his monstrous halberd. Vlad shot into the sky, avoiding an electrical pulse from the weapon.

Vlad hissed, his eyes flashing red as he threw a neon pink flames at the charging Armor Man. The man dodged, as though gliding on the ground, then he threw his halberd at Vlad, electricity and all.

The billionaire yelped in surprise again, intending to dodge to the right, but meeting a rain of gunfire coming from the woman again. She was advancing, keeping him exactly where she wanted him in the sky.

He turned intangible again, “Flutternutters, is this necessary? I- EEP!” he shouted as the unnoticed halberd was launched at him again. ‘How did he get that back so quickly?!’ Vlad though furiously, watching the armored man as he recalled his weapon. ‘Some sort of magnetic attachment from the weapon to the glove perhaps?’ Vlad allowed the bullets to phase through him again, keeping an eye on the halberd wielder.

“Surrender now, villain, or we will use force.” The man stated in monotone.

“YOU’RE ALREADY USING FORCE YOU NITWIT!” Vlad shouted as he dodged another launch of the halberd, taking another shot from the woman’s bullets as he turned tangible to avoid the halberd’s energy, “CHEESECURDS!”

‘Enough of this,’ Vlad, irritated, split himself, creating 30 clones in all, “Let’s see you try to hit me now,” all the clones said in stereo, grinning down at the lunatics below him. Meanwhile, Vlad’s real body turned invisible and intangible, ready to make a quick egress.

As he moved to fly away, he felt a chill run down his back. Turning quickly, Vlad saw it the instant the armored man’s halberd left his hand, careening directly at his invisible form, the man’s helmeted head aimed directly at him.

Vlad screeched in a totally manly way, thank you very much, as he dived out of the way of the weapon, flying as fast as he could away from these psychopaths. He didn’t look back, but felt the electricity lick his skin as the halberd sailed inches from his ear.

‘An expeditious retreat seems wise,’ Vlad convinced himself, his metaphorical tail definitely not tucked between his legs.

‘I need to find Daniel before those psychopaths do. He’d never stand a chance,’ Vlad thought, ‘Although…an encounter with them may convince him to stand rightfully by my side…decisions, decisions…’

Vlad continued to fly, no direction in mind as he continued to think up plan to retrieve his wayward Badger.

Miss Militia and Armsmaster cut down the remaining clones within 10 minutes, utilizing the electric field Armsmaster had crafted to incapacitate multiple enemies at once. The intention wasn’t to make said enemies…dissipate…but it got the job done. Unfortunately, the original Vampire already made his escape.

Miss Militia let out a sigh of displeasure, “Well, that could have gone better…” She glanced over at Armsmaster, who was inputting something into his wrist communicator, as well as giving a detailed report on the unknown cape through his communications device in his helmet.

She sighed again, looking around her at the damage the unknown had caused. 'At least no one got hurt, but this damage…' the Kurdish woman walked to a particularly melted swing set, taking note that a slight glow came from the blobbed metal.

“Armsmaster,” she called out, grabbing the attention of the armored man, “Come take a look.”

She could hear the shifting of metal as he moved toward her, still speaking into his communicator, “Yes, Console. Ensure that we are notified if the unknown cape is seen. Wards are not to engage. If spotted, report back to base while relaying the unknown’s last known location…”

He stopped next to her, looking down at what she had indicated. Armsmaster did not move for a moment, then took a knee, taking a device from a pouch on his waist. With a click, the device opened opened to reveal a collection unit. The metal was still molten hot, allowing the claws of the device to take a small sample of the glowing material.

“Any ideas? Some sort of plasma power?” Miss Militia mused, placing one hand on her hip as she kept an eye on their surroundings, her weapon shifting to a multitude of weapons in her unease.

“… That is possible, but unlikely.” The man stated. He shifted back to his feet, sliding the machine back into its pouch. “We should return to base. There is nothing else we can do here.”

A PRT response team had just arrived, setting up their cordon around the area while they figured out how to remove the molten substance from the public area. Miss Militia sighed again, turning back toward her bike while looking in the direction that the mystery cape had gone.

“Makes you wonder about the supposed kid he was looking for. I’m not sure if I want him to find the poor thing…”

“We will just need to take him into custody before he can find the child.” Armsmaster’s matter-of-fact tone, full of easy certainty, always made Miss Militia come out of her own head. She smiled at her friend, the skin around her eyes crinkling with the motion.

“Right you are,” She looked back to the Armor-clad hero as he mounted his bike, kicking it into life as the engine purred. She mounted her own bike, then the pair of heroes set off, back toward the Rig.

‘That man was dangerous,’ Hannah thought to herself, taking the turn out of the neighborhood quickly while following her friend, ‘Manipulative, cunning, varied powerset…I’d rather not have to fight that kind of enemy alone.’

“I suggest we have everyone travel in pairs for a while, Armsmaster,” She said loudly into her own comm, ensuring that the man could hear her even over the sound of their bikes, “How did you see him anyway? It would be helpful to not get caught off guard.”

Armsmaster tapped his helmet, right at the temple. ‘Aw.’ Miss Militia nodded to herself, ‘Tinker-Tech as always.’

The two traveled in silence after that, finally reaching their destination, the Rig. The duo parked their bikes, dismounting and moving together to the main hub. Before they could travel further, Armsmaster pulled Miss Militia to the side.

“You need to report for Master-Stranger Protocols before anything else.”

“What,” Confusion radiated off of her as Armsmaster directed her to the Master-Stranger containment units, “Why? What did I miss?”

“Nothing, the challenge and reply was followed during the fight, however you were not acting yourself at the initiation of the encounter. It is better to be sure.”

Hannah followed her friend in confusion, then thought back to the encounter. ‘Oh. He means when we first started talking to that man,’ slight concern filled her as she remembered her demeaner when the man had started talking, ‘I became completely relaxed when he started talking. I even forgot why we were there…’

“Understood,” she sighed, “I don’t think whatever that effect did has a long range or hold, but better safe than sorry.”

Armsmaster nodded, escorting her to the containment rooms for the protocols, “I will report everything to Director Piggot. Think about anything that you remember from the encounter, and we will create a full profile on the unknown when the protocol is complete.”

The door shut behind him as he left containment, leaving Hanna alone. She stretched, sitting down on the simple cot inside the small, white room. Silence dominated the space, leaving the woman with her thoughts.

‘A vampire, huh?’ the woman looked up to the bright light above her, leaning her head and back against the wall, ‘Let’s hope we catch him soon. The Bay has enough problems without the walking dead…’

Hannah chuckled to herself, then settled in. Ten minutes down, 2 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes left to go…’Damn it…’

PRT Threat Assessment:

Date of Initial Report: 17 December 2010  
Codename: Plasmius  
Designation: Villain  
Location: Last seen within the suburban neighborhood off Lord Street, 1900 hrs.  
Description: Male. White suit with black accents and gloves. White cape with a high collar and red lining. Black hair spiked, resembling horns, and black goatee. 'Vampire' Theme.
General Information: At approximately 1900 hours on 17 December 2010, Console received multiple reports of an unknown parahuman destroying property in a supposed “tantrum.” Civilians were advised to remain indoors while heroes Armsmaster and Miss Militia were dispatched to the scene. A suspect matching the provided description was located within a destroyed park. The damage appeared to be recent, however it was not confirmed at that time if the damage was caused by the suspect. Armsmaster and Miss Militia approached the suspect and engaged in verbal communication. As the suspect spoke, Miss Militia showed signs of impairment, visibly relaxing her guard unnaturally while conversing. Armsmaster began analyzing the interaction via the TinkerTech voice analysis program installed within his helmet. The interaction showed no signs of parahuman power use. Armsmaster stating that the parahuman was to be detained and brought in for questioning. The suspect attempted to stall when two heat signatures alerted in Armsmaster’s helmet display. Armsmaster deployed an area of effect, short range electromagnetic shock keyed to avoid friendly fire. This caused two individuals, identical to the suspect and currently assessed as projections, to become visible and dissipate. An altercation occurred between both heroes and the parahuman known as Plasmius before said suspect created many projections (30 were confirmed, however there may have been more) and slipped away from the fight. The remaining projections were destroyed.  
Personality: Plasmius has been assessed as cunning and manipulative. The individual is easy to anger and prone to violent outbursts. He is also quick to flee when he preserves he is out matched in combat.  
Powerset:

• Brute 4 – Plasmius was able to take multiple shots from Miss Militia’s weapon while formed as a FAD assault rifle. Non-lethal ammunition appeared only to cause inconvenience and was useful in kiting, however caused no lasting damage. Some hits did not appear to affect the individual at all. Potential limited invulnerability to physical damage assessed. Electricity seemed more affective, causing the subject to express pain. The subject was also confirmed to have lifted multiple different sized civilian vehicles with little difficulty, however he did not use this ability in combat.  
• Master 5 – Plasmius was confirmed to make a multitude of projections of himself, currently confirmed up to 30, all of which acted independently and cohesively, as though fighting many of the same person with different thoughts and feelings. The projections are not as durable as the original, however they are able to utilize some of the main body’s abilities, using flight, invisibility, and fire blasts. Electricity has been identified as a viable weapon against the projections.  
• Mover 3 – Plasmius has flight capabilities, completely silent. Based on observations of his movements, the type of flight seems to be gravity’s lack of effect on the subject. His speed did not seem as impressive; however, the subject was able to move out of detection range within moments and will use his projections to ensure his escape.  
• Blaster 5 – Plasmius can create neon-pink flames from his hands. These flames are extremely hot and caustic, melting through metal without issue. The damage caused from these flames remained hot to the touch for over 7 hours after the flames were doused. Scans show high levels of radiation emanating from the samples, however further testing shows that limited exposure will not cause injury or illness to personnel or civilians. Utilize caution when dealing with the flames and their collateral damage.  
• Stranger 5 – Plasmius has confirmed invisibility. The ability can almost be considered ‘true invisibility,’ allowing the subject to sneak behind well trained operatives or heroes with no signs of approach. A major flaw in this ability is that a circular object in the subject’s torso radiates extreme heat, and while not felt by those in the area, can be detected easily with heat sensing equipment.

Recommended Strategies: Do not engage without an initial briefing on the subject first. All PRT and Protectorate members will receive the initial briefing on the subject to avoid manipulation. All members who are to engage with the subject must be equip with temperature detecting equipment. Fire suppression equipment should be deployed to the scene as soon as it is confirmed that the subject is present (utilize similar equipment to Lung). All responding units are recommended to have electric weaponry on their person. PRT units should avoid direct combat with the subject to avoid unnecessary injuries.  
Additional Information: Plasmius is extremely manipulative. If personnel are unprepared or uninformed, there is a chance the subject could coerce personnel into dangerous positions. Upon first contact, the subject stated that they were attempting to locate their godson. Reports state that the subject had been calling for an individual for over an hour before the property damage had occurred.

Reported names for "Godson," as reported by civilian callers:
- Son
- Little Badger
- Daniel

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire - 18 December 2010

Morning always comes, whether you wanted to sleep in or not.

Taylor groaned, turning over in her bed while covering her face with her pillow, attempting to block out the early morning sun that peeked through her curtains. She began to fall back into a light slumber when she heard a light tap at her door.

“Uuuug…” escaped Taylor’s mouth as she peeked one eye open at the door. There was a pause, then another tap.

“Coming…” Taylor whined and slid out of bed, throwing her pillow on it, and groggily made her way to the door. She opened it a crack, rubbing the tired out of her eyes as she peeked through the opening. There stood her dad, dressed in a white collared shirt and brown slacks, the symbol for the Dockworkers Union embossed above his right breast.

“Dad?” Taylor questioned sleepily, opening the door a little wide, “What’s up? Why are you in your uniform? Isn’t it Saturday?” She finished her questions with a yawn, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Morning, Taylor,” he greeted, a small smile pulling at his lips, “It is, but I’ve got to run in for a few hours to take care of something. I should be back before lunch.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, “Will you be alright with…” he trailed off, glancing downstairs toward the living room.

“What?” Taylor’s confusion colored her tone as she tried to think why her dad was worried. Then she remembered: the shitty day at school; the empty park; the green portal; the boy with white hair.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, fully awake now and focused on her Dad, “Yeah, I’ll be fine!”

Dad looked back at her, skeptically, keeping his voice low “Taylor, I know you said that he's safe, but we don’t really know him. Having a parahuman in the house is one thing, but having a boy over is another.”

Taylor sputtered, her face turning a light shade of pink, “Dad! It’s not like that!”

He just shook his head at her, patting her shoulder in a show of understanding, “It’s alright, Taylor. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Taylor sputtered some more, face growing pinker by the second, then she stopped, glaring at her Dad, “You’re fucking with me.”

He let out a bark of laughter, his face changing from faux-serious to playful, “I don’t know, Taylor. I’d say you have a chance,” he began to walk down the stairs way from his daughter while winking back at her, “He calls you his 'Hero', doesn’t he?”

“Just go!” She yelled down at him as he left, his chuckles following him. Taylor could hear Danny greeting her dad as she shut her door.

‘Gotta get changed quick before he says anything else to embarrass me,’ Taylor thought mournfully before quickly remembering that she didn’t really have any clean clothes.

“Craaaaaap…” Taylor whined, digging through her closet and pulling out the least wrinkled shirt she could find. She grabbed a pair of sweatpants and pulled both items on over her undergarments. She opened her door, seeing the back of her dad leaving through the front door from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m taking one of your hoodies,” she called after him, seeing him wave to her in assent as he shut the door. Taylor darted into her dad’s room, dug into his closet, and grabbed a black hoodie with a brewery’s logo featured on the back. Pulling it on, she walked down the stairs and into the living room.

Danny was sitting there on the couch, the blankets, sheets and pillows he had used the night prior neatly stacked at the edge of the couch. He was messing with some sort of device that kind of looked like a flip phone mixed with brick. It was green and silver with a stylized D (or was it a P?) etched into the face of it. A long antenna was sticking out of the side with Danny glaring at it like it had killed his first born.

“Morning, Casper,” Taylor greeted, her arms crossed in front of her watching his ire with amusement.

Danny looked up, the glare immediately replaced with a smirk, “Mornin, Hero! You here to sweep me off my feet?”

Taylor’s mind stalled, staring at the boy in confusion.

Danny shrugged, “Probably not the best idea. After all, your dad would never…” and he shifted his attention back to the phone.

Taylor took a moment to process what he said, then her face flushed red, “You heard that?!” Danny’s knowing smirk was all the confirmation she needed. She covered her face, trying to hide her embarrassment, “Ignore him, please dear god. He was joking…”

Danny’s chuckles filled the air as he put his phone into his pocket, “No worries. It was funny,” he grinned at her, “and sorry to disappoint, but I am in a happy and committed relationship.”

Taylor, without missing a beat, gasped in disgust, “Ew, a normy,” and walked into the kitchen, leaving Danny doubled over laughing as he attempted to catch his breath.

Taylor smiled as she spied breakfast set out for them, ready to eat. ‘Thanks, dad.’

Taylor grabbed a plate from the dishwasher and began serving herself, Danny stumbling into the kitchen behind her, “Grab a plate, Casper, before I eat everything.”

“I-it’s not gonna jump me, is it?” Danny breathed out, still recovering from his laughing fit.

“Sorry, no jumping. Dad left the knives out of it today,” Taylor commented, sitting down at the table with her plate full of breakfast goodies: pancakes, bacon and eggs, some mixed fruit, and toast, along with a glass of juice.

“Shame, I coulda done with the exercise,” Danny retorted, looking at the dishwasher before pulling a plate, serving himself as well. He grabbed his own glass, then slid into the empty chair across from Taylor, smiling happily as he smothered his pancakes with the syrup that was staged at the table.

“Sooooo,” Danny extended the word, cutting his pancakes into teeny tiny pieces with his fork as he talked, “what’s the plan, Stan? Am I actually teachin ya ta fight? Cause that’s cool and all, just wanna make sure.”

Taylor finished chewing her mouthful of eggs, moving to butter her toast, “Definitely. There’s a space in the basement that we could-”

“NOPE!” Danny shouted, his fork hitting the table along with his hands. Taylor jumped, then stared at the boy, wide eyed. His face was even paler than she thought it could be, and his hands clenched into fists.

There was a second of silence, then Danny laughed nervously, bringing his hand to rub the back of his neck. “Haha, yeah no. I’m pretty claustrophobic. You have a backyard, right? We can do it there,” his demeanor had returned to his happy self, however Taylor could see the slight tremble in his hands as he stabbed his pancake slivers and shoveled them into his mouth.

“Ooookaaaay… Yeah, that’s fine,” Taylor looked cautiously at the boy in front of her, trying to see if he had any other ticks she should be concerned about.

Taylor noticed a few things now that she was paying more attention. She saw that, as the boy scarfed down his food, he was making sure to chew _very_ thoroughly, like he was making sure it was mush before swallowing. His left hand had stopped trembling as the basement was forgotten, but his right seemed to have…ticks. Like his nerves were on overdrive and always active. He would reach for the glass next to him only to twitch, nearly knocking it over but catching it at the last second; it was an action that he seemed used to.

Taylor’s gaze drifted up to Danny’s face, to his eyes, as she continued to eat. He wasn’t looking at her, more focused on his meal. His eyes sparkled with joy as he ate, like when Dad would give a full meal to a homeless man who hadn’t eaten a good meal in weeks. She could see the faint scaring that she had seen in his other form, barely noticeable, but definitely there.

‘He looks like he was electrocuted…’ Taylor looked back at her plate, her face scrunching up in confusion, ‘I thought scars like that faded…’

Danny stood abruptly, grabbing his plate from the table, “Man, that was great! I haven’t had pancakes or fresh fruit in foreeeeever!” He grinned at her, taking his plate to the sink.

“Oh, you can leave those there,” Taylor said, scarfing down the rest of her breakfast. She swallowed, then chugged her juice.

“Naw, I got it! I’m a guest, so I got dishes!” Danny threw a carefree smile over his shoulder, setting the dishes in the sink as he reached for the faucet.

Taylor choked on her drink, and sputtered, “Wait!” then began to cough as juice went down the wrong pipe and Danny turned to look at her, already pulling up on the faucet and dosing himself, and the room, in water.

“SFPPFPPPH-” Danny gagged, throwing himself forward to try to turn off the leaking faucet to no avail. Taylor, still coughing out juice from her lungs, dived to the cabinet under the sink, throwing it open and turning the emergency shut off valve.

There was silence, only interrupted by heaving breathing and coughing of liquids out of lungs.

Danny looked down at Taylor, mortified, “I can fix it…”

Taylor looked up at him, finally clearing her lungs…and laughed. Laughed so hard she was rolling on the floor.

Danny’s cheeks puffed out in offence, “You could have warned me…”

Taylor gasped for air, holding the stitch in her side, “I-pffffahahaha-I did!”

The indignant boy groused, looking for a dry towel to clean up the lake now residing in the kitchen as Taylor kept laughing.

“Would you help me!?” Danny tapped Taylor’s side with his toe, nudging her to sanity. Taylor gasped for air as she sat up, wiping tears and water from her face.

“Holy shit,” she sighed, seeing Danny holding a hand outstretched to her.

“Language,” He stated flatly, pulling her to her feet.

“What’s with you and the ‘_language_’ issue,” Taylor asked, grabbing a few towels from the hall closet and bringing them back to the kitchen, handing Danny half the pile.

“What’s with you and your potty mouth,” Danny shot back, taking the pile and beginning to clean the water off the floor, “Anyway, I don’t have an issue. There are plenty a ways to express yourself without using curse words.”

Taylor stifled a laugh, “Don’t go to the Dockworkers Union, then. Your poor, delicate widdle ears may fall off in shock.”

“Well, my 'delicate ears' thank you for your advanced warning this time…” Danny grumbled, standing up and admiring his work, “There, all dry!” He beamed proudly with his hands on his hips, then looked at the sink again, “What happened anyway? With the sink? Sinks aren’t normally that delicate here, are they?” He raised an eyebrow at Taylor as she finished wiping down the countertops of water.

“No, we just haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet. All repair work in this house is done through favors or duct tape.”

Danny hummed, grabbing the towels from her as he moved them to a basket set to the side for dirty dish towels. He looked down at his own clothes, soaked through with water. “Let’s hop outside really quick.”

“What? Let's throw our stuff in the dryer ‘real quick’ and have it dry in 30 minutes, then we can start training,” Taylor supplied, beginning to waddle back toward the stairs to see if she had any other clothes to wear. ‘Ugg, this sucks…’

“Naw, I got a faster way,” Danny’s tone made Taylor stop, turning around to see a shit-eating grin on his face as he walked out the backdoor. No, not out…through the backdoor, grin still plastered on his face as he beckoned her outside.

She sighed, waddling back into the kitchen and opened the backdoor like a normal person. She stepped outside to meet the boy who was holding his hand out to her. She looked at the hand skeptically, then up at the boy’s face, grin still in place there. She grabbed the hand, then she felt a shiver run down her spine as though she had been doused with ice water this time.

The water on their bodies dropped, splattering into the grass beneath them. The cold feeling dissipated, and Taylor blinked, taking in her now dry clothing and hair. She looked at Danny again, the boy raising an eyebrow at her.

“Beats waiting 30 minutes, yeah?”

“Shut up, Casper.”

He laughed, then pulled her into the yard, Taylor rolling her eyes as she followed.

Danny let go of her hand, spinning around and stood in the middle of the backyard.

“Ready to learn, Hero,” he asked with a smile.

For some reason, Taylor could only see the mischief in that smile as she took a deep breath, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

_________________________________________________________________

Taylor decided that she hated Danny. He had spent the last few hours handing her ass to her, telling her to “Come at me!” which resulted in Taylor eating dirt.

Danny had the audacity to smile sympathetically at her when she asked if he would go easy on her.

“I am,” he had said, the unsaid ‘sorry’ coloring his tone.

‘Bastard,’ Taylor thought after yet another flip over the boy’s shoulder.

To his credit, he never once made fun of her. His jokes weren't non-existent, but no gloating could be found. He was also doing his best to teach her as she lay in the dirt.

“Charging in won’t do anything, especially against an opponent who’s stronger than you,” he had stated, helping her to her feet the umpteenth time.

But if Taylor was anything, she was stubborn. They only stopped around lunch time when her dad had returned home to find her covered in dirt and sweat, Danny *rudely* asking if she was okay. Dad had told them both to go inside at that point and wash up because he had brought pizza and it was getting cold.

Taylor’s muscles protested the climb upstairs, and by the time she had finished cleaning up and trudging down the steps, the pizza had been doled out and both Danny’s were sitting in the living room, watching TV. Taylor grabbed her own plate and slipped between the two, not wanting to move for…ever.

They sat in silence, watching the news while they ate. They were discussing the Bad Canary Trial, one of the lawyers stating that Paige Mcabee had full intentions of using her powers against her ex-boyfriend, causing him to maim himself. The younger Danny looked at the TV screen, confusion dancing across his features.

“Wait, what did she do?” He asked, clearly lost in the courtroom sauce.

“She told her ex to go fuck himself, and he tried to do it,” Taylor said, sliding another piece of pizza into her mouth. “Her power gives her some control over peoples actions” she said through a mouthful of pizza, chewing and swallowing, then she looked over when the boy hadn’t said anything. His mouth was agape, a horrified look on his face while staring at her.

“…you’ll catch flies,” Taylor reached over and pushed his chin upward, closing his mouth. Danny turned his head back to the TV, eyes wide in horror, as though he was watching a trainwreck and couldn’t look away.

Taylor heard a stifled sound to her other side and looked around to see her dad covering his mouth while trying not to laugh. She huffed in annoyance, grabbed the remote and changed the channel, switching it to some program about puppies.

“There. More your speed, Casper?”

Danny didn’t say anything for a moment, and Taylor was afraid she may have upset him, then, “You know what…yeah, this is better,” he said in a defeated voice, slouching into his seat and stuffing pizza into his mouth.

The three spent the rest of the afternoon like that, comfortably inside the warm house with puppy videos and rapidly cooling pizza. When evening had arrived, Danny pushed himself off the couch, his mood improved and mind away from the maiming and dismemberment.

“Ready for round two, Hero?”

“No,” Taylor replied instantly, then stood following Danny out the back door.

They spent the remainder of the evening in the backyard, Taylor trying and failing to get a hit in on Danny, Danny patiently giving her pointers that he thought would help, and Taylor stubbornly getting up repeatedly from being thrown.

When they finally returned indoors as the sun began to set, the smell of lasagna filled the house. Taylor’s eyes widened, fatigue forgotten as she rushed her dad.

“You made lasagna!?” She exclaimed, beaming at the elder Danny as he pulled the Italian gold out of the oven.

“Careful, Taylor. Hot pan,” He moved around her, placing the treasure trove of pasta goodness on the counter, “And yes, it’s almost done. Get washed up again and come back.”

Taylor could feel her heart soar as she rushed to do as he asked, leaving an ignored younger Danny behind in her wake.

After she finished, she took the stairs two at a time to return to the dining room, the table moved from the corner it was in, a third seat ready for their guest. Taylor, noticing that the silverware was yet to be place on the table, hurried to the drawer with them, grabbing three sets. She was placing them on the table as both Danny’s entered the room, Taylor’s excitement lighting up the space.

“Food, now! Let’s eat!” She beamed slipping behind the two and pushing them forward, grinning like mad.

“I think she’s broken. You broke your daughter,” Danny stage whispered to her dad, sliding into the chair set up for him. Her dad let out a chuckle, his own smile prominent on his face.

“Shut it,” Taylor said sharply, grabbing some oven-mitts and moving the lasagna dish to the table, “Time to dig in!”

It was heaven. The sauce was the perfect consistency and flavor, the herbs and meat making her mouth water. The noodles were just right, cooked to perfection! The cheese was even a little scorched just like… ‘just like mom use to make.’ Taylor savored every bite, letting the dish sit on her tongue, chewing, then swallowing. It was bringing tears to her eyes, the dish so nostalgic that she almost couldn’t help herself.

She looked over to her dad, seeing the same feelings flash across his face. It warmed her heart to have this moment with him, to reminisce on the good times where words weren’t necessary. Her eyes wandered, over falling on their guest, almost forgetting he was there. Then she stalled.

Danny wasn’t looking at her or her dad. He was focused on the lasagna, meticulously cutting it to pieces, inspecting every bite, then cautiously bringing the small pieces to his mouth. He chewed slowly, until it was mash, then swallowed, repeating the process. He wasn't savoring the taste; it was more like he was checking for poison or weird substances.

'Is…is he OCD or something? He did that this morning too…' Taylor’s confusion must have radiated toward the boy, as his eyes shot up to her.

He looked down at his food, then back at her, then mouthed, “Eat your food,” silently, glancing at her dad. Taylor’s eyes drifted to her dad too, the man’s eyes closed as he enjoyed the slice of heaven on his plate.

Taylor shifted her focus back to her plate, confusion still there, but she decided to ask later. After the gold was gone.

________________________

21 December 2010

Later turned out to be days later, as Danny seemed to somehow always avoid her questions. Whenever she tried to bring up his eating habits, he would challenger her to an impromptu match. This involved him tackling her, shouting “Ya gotta be ready!” then running from her as she tried to chase him down for the slight against her honor.

Taylor was getting better, or so Danny said. She was certainly getting better at avoiding his tackles, which she could sort of predict due to her attempted questions and his reactions to them. They had also began to run in the mornings, where Danny would also tackle her if she tried to ask, being in public be damned. Still, it was time for him to spill the metaphorical beans. She would not take a tackle as an answer today!

It had been four days since Danny had started staying with them. It was the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, and Danny had been sitting outside all day in the freezing cold air. Danny had asked earlier to borrow a candle, some of their tree out back, a piece of wood, some string, and some spices from the kitchen, and now, with the snow starting to fall, Danny was just…sitting there…looking up into the sky. Dad was out shopping for Christmas dinner, which meant this was the time.

Taylor wrapped herself in a coat and opened the back door, stepping through and closing it behind her. She inched forward until she was standing next to the boy, his mind still in the clouds and the smell of burned sage surrounding him.

“Whatcha up to, Casper?” Taylor asked, sinking down next to him. She looked at the assortment of items in front of the boy, seeing a wreath made of twigs and evergreens, a small wooden log he had found somewhere that was decorated in ornate carvings of plants and animals, and a small candle lit in the center of the display.

Danny shrugged, eyes not leaving the sky, “Just…thinkin…”

Taylor gave him a side eye, then looked back to the display, “What is all this?”

Danny tore his eyes away from the sky, tilting his head to look at the display too, “Oh, it’s just for Yule. My girlfriend is Wiccan, so we celebrate the Solstice instead of Christmas.” His eyes grew fond as he looked at the light of the candle.

“What’s she like?” Taylor shivered, wrapping herself tighter in her coat. She looked at Danny and wondered how he could possibly be out in this cold without his own coat.

Danny’s face lite up at her question, “She’s the best. Sam’s one of my best friends and closest allies.” He tilted his head, cheek resting against his knee that had been drawn up to his chest, “She’s an environmental activist, really into protecting nature and stuff like that.”

His tone turned dreamy as he continued, “She’s strong and confident, one of those friends that is ride-or-die. I really think she could do anything she set her mind to.”

Danny’s eyes never left the flame, but Taylor could see the love and care in them…and the longing. He missed this Sam…a lot.

Taylor couldn’t relate. She had never been in a relationship before, and her “ride-or-die” friend had abandoned her and started bullying her. Listening to Danny talk about his girlfriend…it was nice, and it surprisingly didn’t make Taylor bitter. How could she be bitter when the boy beside her was almost as separated and alone as she felt, with no choice but to be due to the situation he had landed in…not separated by whatever the hell was wrong with Emma, but…by dimensions…

“She sounds great,” Taylor supplied, smiling as Danny’s face turned to her, his own smile infectious.

“Right?! You know, she and my other bestie, Tucker, once concocted a plan to release all the frogs for our science lab live dissection,” his smile lit the air around them, “It was glorious!”

Taylor let out a startled laugh, “What?! Ew, live dissection? Gross!”

Danny laughed, launching into the stories about his two best friends. And it was always the three of them, together. It seemed they were a Trio, true ride-or-die, like Danny had said. He expounded on adventure after adventure: how they had discovered the last female of a dying breed of gorilla, how they exposed a corrupt guidance counselor in their school as a fraud, how they had changed the school menu to have vegetarian options, only for that option to somehow become topsoil; the tales were endless and entertaining. Taylor was laughing along with Danny, enjoying the cool air more then she thought she would.

Danny was laughing, then it petered off, smiling at Taylor, “What about you, Hero? Any fun anecdotes you wanna share bout your escapades?”

This question forced a bitter laugh from Taylor, one she tried to take back with no success. She covered her mouth, pointedly not looking at Danny, who had gone quiet.

“I-aah- I don’t,” she let out a nervous laugh, suddenly feeling the cold more than before, “I don’t...um…I don’t really have friends.”

Danny let out a sound, not a question, but a show that he was listening. He didn’t say anything as she continued, “No, I mean I used to…I had a friend who was like that, you know?” She glanced Danny’s way, trying to appear nonchalant.

“We grew up together – inseparable. Our parents were friends, and we kinda just…we were like sisters,” Taylor looked at the flame of the candle in front of them. It was getting low.

“We would talk about everything and anything,” the candlelight danced in her vision, and Taylor started to play with the laces of her sneakers, “And I mean anything. She knew all my deepest hopes and darkest secrets.”

“My mom…she was a great person. An English professor,” Taylor said proudly, then continued, curbing her pride into a sad lilt, “but…um…she was…in an accident. It…she didn’t make it.”

Taylor let out a bitter laugh, “Emma, my friend, was there for me. Keeping me sane. She was my rock, my anchor. She kept me alive, ya know?” Taylor didn’t look at Danny, and he didn’t say anything, so she kept going. ‘Stop talking idiot, stop talking!'

“She and Dad convinced me to go to Summer Camp, a little over a year ago. And it was fun! It helped me forget, even if it was just a little…” She took in a deep breath, soldiering on, “and when I got back?”

She paused, feeling numb and empty, letting out her breath, “She just…hated me.”

“I-I don’t know what happened. She called me a loser, a freak, depressing and dull. She made some new friends and just…left me,” she shuddered, but kept going, “You know, I can handle a little bulling. I can handle being tripped down the stairs, or having my books ruined, having my homework taken, or having my stuff stolen. I can deal with that! I’m not some baby who can’t handle stuff that petty.

“But Emma? She hits me where it hurts. She uses the things we shared in confidence and really twists in the knife, just to make damn sure it sticks,” a slight hysterical laugh leaves her lips as she continues, “And you wanna know the worst part?! I still think that we can be friends again, one day! I keep deluding myself that she will apologize, and everything will go back to the way it was!”

Tears were streaming down Taylor’s face now, her breaths coming in with the hiccups dominating her voice, “I-I know it-its dumb. I k-know it…B-but…” she turns to the boy next to her, who had stayed, silently watching her break down.

“Why?” Taylor gasped, “What did I do wrong?”

Danny stayed silent, his glacial blue eyes analyzing her. Taylor kept her eyes on that blue, gasping for air while crying in the cold. Then, Danny spoke.

“Nothing.”

Taylor stared at him, confused, trying to read into that simple word. Like he had the answer to everything, and she was missing it.

“You, Taylor Hebert, are one of the coolest, funniest, most badass people I have ever had the pleasure of knowin, and I've known you for what? Like a few days? Who else would see a kid gettin choked out by a Vampire and hit the Frootloop with a backpack?”

Taylor sputtered, “That’s not-”

“Let me finish,” Danny said sternly, causing Taylor to close her mouth, “As my sister says, ‘You can’t ever truly understand someone’s heart or intentions, and tryin is a quest in futility.’ Who cares why Emma left? It has nothin to do with you and everything to do with her.”

Danny held Taylor’s gaze, his eyes never wavering, “I will say this as many times as ya need: You did nothing wrong.” Taylor’s tears ran silently down her face again, unable to look away.

“There is nothin wrong with ya wantin your friend back. There is nothin wrong with you and you are not stupid for wanting that. She betrayed your trust and it’s…hard…to come back from that,” Taylor could see the hurt in his eyes as he said that, the knowing.

“You are not alone. You are cared for. You are loved.” Danny said each sentence with conviction, with complete certainty that what he said was true. Like he had said the words before; a mantra to repeat over and over. As if he had repeated it over and over, just to make sure it stuck.

“Besides,” he leans back into the grass and snow, finally breaking eye contact with her and looking into the sky with a smirk on his face, “Ya got a friend right here! We’re already friends, so ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout nothin!” He glanced at her, “and you got your dad! Two Danny’s for the price of one!”

Taylor wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve, a startled chuckle leaving her lips, “That doesn’t count, I only met you like four days ago…and dads don’t count, either.”

Danny shrugs, “If you say so, but you're already my friend, Taylor. Too late to get rid a me; I’m like a leech!” He grins triumphantly as Taylor laughs again, her voice raw from crying.

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting an impromptu therapy session today…”

“Blame my sister, she rubbed off on me,” Danny leaned forward again, beginning to gather his Yule display.

“I mean seriously, I just came out here to ask you about your eating habits,” Taylor huffed, shifting to help him with his things.

“Eatin habits? Oh, the cuttin everything to mush? Back home, my food would come alive and fight me, so you can never be too careful,” Danny stood, ignoring Taylor’s incredulous stare as he moved inside, “Come on, slowpoke.”

“YOUR FOOD WHAT?!” Taylor screeched, running in after her friend.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire - 24 December 2010

Danny was by himself in the house, Taylor and her dad going out for some sort of errand. To be completely honest, he hadn’t been paying attention to what they were saying as much as focusing on the emotions filling the house.

Danny's ability to see emotions had been in full use in this dimension, making everything look like one of those abstract paintings you find at museums. Apparently, most Ghosts weren’t able to see emotions and feelings as clearly as Danny could, but it was extremely useful, so he wasn't complaining.

Taylor was covered in excite and nervousness while trying to hide something she was giddy about. Her Dad shared some of her excitement, with fond amusement coloring the feeling. The conclusion Danny came to? A surprise. He chose to avoid digging too deeply into the feelings drifting around them, not wanting to disappoint his friend.

It had been a few days since Taylor had shared her worries with Danny and had asked him to keep it to himself (“I don’t want dad to worry.”). Danny could relate. He never once mentioned his own bullying to his…to Jack and Maddie while he lived with them, although his was more about pride then about worrying them. _‘Not that they would have cared…’_ Although, he wasn’t sure that Taylor’s dad would react in the same way that they would have. The man seemed pretty understanding, if not for the hair-trigger temper Danny had witnessed that first evening upon arriving.

Danny shook himself back to the present, glancing around the empty living room as he lounged on the couch. He was happy that the Heberts trusted him alone in their home. They had only known each other a day less than a week and he already felt close to the pair. It was easy, being in their company, like he belonged there…like it was _okay_ for him to be there.

Danny felt a rumbling in his chest, his core purring in assent. ‘Mine/Belong,’ it whispered, happy and content for the first time in a while.

Danny slapped his chest lightly, looking down and frowning at the spot. He really shouldn’t get this attached to people he just met. It was dangerous, letting strangers into his fraid (because that’s what he was doing, wasn’t he?). A fraid had access to a Ghost’s most personal thoughts and dreams; they could protect a Ghost’s existence and warm them with simple actions, but they could also betray and tear them apart piece by bloody piece.

Danny couldn’t see the Heberts using the attachment against him, but he had been wrong before. Best to not let them know just how attached he had become. Eventually, Wulf or someone else would come grab him, and he’d be fine. It would suck to leave Taylor, but it wouldn’t be forever! And, if he supported her right, she would have the confidence to live her life as she wanted; like his friend deserved… (Family his core purred, but Danny shushed it.)

Danny stood from the couch and stretched, letting his back pop with the effort. He made his way toward the kitchen, intent on going outside to lay in the snowy grass to clear his head, when he felt a puff of cold air force its way through his lungs, catching at the base of his throat.

Danny scrunched his eyebrows together, coughing to release the aborted Ghost Sense. Confused by the feeling, Danny pushed his senses out, closing his eyes and feeling the lingering emotions within the Hebert home.

Like when he had first arrived, the feeling of warmth and care blanketed the residence, even with its patchwork holes and burned edges. The fact that a boundary, a protective coating created with strong feelings and emotions to guard against hostile forces, had been made over the residence showed how much the family cared for their own. Danny had learned that the cause of the damage to the boundary had been the loss of Taylor’s mother, Annette, resulting in a rift between the father and daughter duo. No one had told him outright, but the signs were there.

Trust was a fickle thing, something that was very time consuming and difficult to build, but also so extremely easy to lose. Taylor and her dad were healing, and Danny was glad that the holes in the boundary were healing with them, even if it was a slow process.

Danny’s awareness picked up a fluttering movement in the walkway of the house near a tall bookshelf sitting flush against the wall. Approaching it, the boy looked around at the items there, different odds and ends decorating the space.

On the lower shelves sat well-worn books; chapter books and stories standing tall beside literature textbooks. Some sported frayed bookmarks peaking up from the pages sticking out in neat angles, a sign of stories left half finished.

The middle shelves displayed small nick-nacks, faint emotions painting their surfaces. A small ball rang when Danny picked it up, a warbling bell with a clear resonance sounding through the cool metal. Danny smiled, placing the ball back, and looked at a few other items: a small well-loved plush owl, an old and broken watch stopped in time, and a small bowl holding a single, thin wedding ring. Danny stared at the ring for a second, before moving on to the top shelf.

Picture frames and albums were set neatly in the top shelf, showing the story of a family full of joy and laughter. A young man, which Danny assumed to be Danny Sr, smiled proudly in with a group of burly dockworkers, standing in front of a large boat. A woman with fluffy black hair beamed in front of a college campus sign, diploma in hand. Taylor, probably no older then 5, hanging off her father’s arm while the woman, presumably her mother, laughed in the background.

Danny smiled, making no move to touch the pictures, when he felt a presence in the air next to his shoulder. He stiffened, looking out the corner of his eye toward the presence, seeing only a shadow. It shifted, a misty hand perched on his shoulder from behind, it’s non-descript face looking at the pictures and longing peppering the air.

‘A shade…’ Danny thought, eyeing the specter. Shades were remnants of a person, imprints of the dearly departed that floated through the land of the living while imitating portions of their lives, ghosting through their most cherished haunts. They were not strong enough to affect the world around them, and were created when a strong spirit did not receive enough ectoplasm while attempting to form a Ghost Core, causing the process to fail. What was left was this, a shadowy creature of longing.

Turning his eyes back to the shelf, Danny reached out, hesitantly, toward the pictures. The shade’s hand, the one not resting on his shoulder, slid forward, directing Danny’s arm toward the photo albums rather than the frames.

Grabbing one with a red boarder, Danny pulled it from its place delicately and rested the book in his arm, opening it to the first page. Inside, pictures of a young Taylor and her family were organized lovingly, each showing a different milestone. The shade moved in front of him, sliding their shadowy fingers across the pages, stroking each with care.

Danny didn’t look through the book, only flipping the pages when the shade was done looking. The emotions flooding the air around them was overwhelming and hard to describe, making Danny tear up. He kept flipping the pages when the shade indicated, taking time to look at the imprint, her fluffy long hair shaping her head.

Once it had finished looking through the book, the shade placed one hand back on his shoulder and the other cupping the side of his face. Danny stiffened again, the shade’s forehead resting against his and warm feelings of love and gratitude radiated around. Danny’s core sang, happy and content to have helped one of his people.

Then the shade let go, giving a nod to the boy as it disappeared. He could tell it was still there, watching him with fondness. Placing the album carefully back in its place, Danny walking away from the unintentional monument of the dead and into the kitchen.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Danny slumped into his designated chair at the dining table. ‘Ancients, that was stressful,’ he closed his eyes, leaning his head back, ‘Glad she’s happy at least. Never again, please.’

Danny sat there, trying to regain some sense of autonomy to his body, when he opened one eye, looking at the sink in the kitchen. He stared at it, then sat up, slapping his hands into his thighs.

“You know what…” He stood, making his way over to the broken faucet and looking it over, “Might as well get this fixed.”

__________________________________________________________________________

When the Heberts had returned home a few hours later, their front step was repaired, a gleaming fresh wooden plank greeting them. Taylor held a package in her hands, looking down that the step, processing what she was seeing. She then looked at the door and noticed that the doorbell had been replaced, too.

“Uuummm…” Taylor looked at her dad, his arms ladened with packages and groceries, “Did you call a repair guy or something?”

He looked at his daughter, shifting the packages in his arms, “No…I didn’t…Get the door for me, would you, kiddo?”

She rushed to comply, skipping the step in habit as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door. She pulled the door open, peering inside for anything off. Her father pushed past her, taking in their living room as he went through, Taylor hot on his heels.

When they entered the kitchen, what they saw made Taylor laugh out loud.

Danny, covered in grease and grime, was torso deep under their sink cabinet with a large wrench that Taylor wasn’t sure that they owned, pulling out pieces of the piping as he hummed the mission impossible theme song under his breath. At her laugh, the Heberts heard a loud “Ack!” followed by a clang of skull hitting metal pipe, then an “OOOW!”

Danny emerged while rubbing his head as he looked up at them, “Oh, welcome back!” He waved cheerily at them, large wrench in his other hand, “I’m almost done here!”

“D-Danny…what are you doing?” Dad asked, his confusion making Taylor cover her mouth to avoid letting out another laugh.

“Huh?” Danny cocked his head to the side, full golden retriever mode, “I’m fixing it? It was broken, by mysterious circumstances,” Taylor stifled another laugh, “and I was like, ‘why not’.” Danny shrugged, wiping his face into the crook of his arm to remove some of the grime.

Danny Sr sighed, looking at the mess surrounding the kitchen, “You didn’t have to do that, kiddo. I was going to take care of it later…”

Danny brought his free hand to the back of his neck, letting out a nervous chuckle, “It’s fine, I said I’d fix it anyway,” he turned to Taylor, “right?”

Taylor nodded, “He did. That was days ago, though. Thought you forgot, Casper.” She smirked at the boy on the floor, who’s cheeks puffed in indignation.

“I never forget a promise,” He waved the two off, “Now let me cook! I fixed your shower too, by the way.” He paused, “And your cable.”

Taylor’s Dad just stared at the boy, who pointedly ignored their unasked questions and went back under the sink, a clanging sound echoing as he continued. The elder man just sighed, placing the groceries onto the table and taking the other packages back into the living room, “Just let us know when you’re done. We need to put groceries away.” Danny’s hand shot out in a thumbs up, then pulled back into the sink’s guts.

Taylor followed her dad back into the living room, trying to hold in her laughter. Her dad looked dumbfounded, unsure what to do. He then turned to her, “Why is he doing that?”

“He said he’d fix it,” Taylor said simply, walking toward the stairs with her own package in her hands, “Guess he finally got around to it.” She laughed, leaving her confused father to process the lunacy that was Danny, and to find what else the boy had done to his house.

Chapter Text

Amity Park, Illinois

Sam was angry. That wasn’t an unusual state for the goth girl to be in; it was almost her aesthetic. But when her boyfriend didn’t call like he had promised, she knew he had gotten pulled into something. When he didn’t call the second day…it was fine. He’d call the next day for sure.

A week was far too long. Sam wanted murder.

“How hard is it for that stupid Clock to let Danny have a normal schedule?!” She raved, pacing back and forth in her large bedroom, Tucker Foley was sitting at her desk, typing something on his newly acquired laptop. Jazz had been busy with college in Chicago and Val was occupied with her shift at the Nasty Burger, both unable to make the emergency meeting that Sam had called. Dani, Danny's clone/sister/cousin, was MIA and hadn't been reachable in the past month; last they heard, she was traveling through Costa Rica enjoying life.

“He’s the Ghost King, Sam,” Tucker stated placatingly, continuing to type on his machine as Sam paced, weathering a glare from the goth, “He’s probably busy. I get you’re worried, but stressing about it won’t do anything.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it,” Sam threw her hands in the air, then kicked a bag by her bed in frustration, “We never know if he’s busy or if he’s in trouble because he won’t tell us! And you know he leaves stuff out; don’t say he doesn’t! He talks about how vast and wide the Realms are but refuses to let us know what he does every day!”

Tucker stopped typing and turned in the swivel chair at Sam’s desk, putting his full attention on his friend, “Sam, you know that’s not what this is about. Danny doesn’t have to tell us everything,” Sam’s body puffed up in indignation, but Tucker continued before she could interrupt, “You are upset because this always happens. Danny gets interrupted during one of your calls, has to leave, says he will call back the next day, then can’t for one reason or another.

“He’s a busy guy, and so are you with school and all the stuff your parents put you through,” the boy sighed, watching his friend cross her arms protectively over her chest and avoid his eye contact, “It’s frustrating. I get it. But Danny isn’t here to defend himself, so don’t start pushing that angry goth energy onto him when you know it’s not his fault. He’d call if he could.”

Sam deflated, her shoulders falling as her arms fell to her sides. She slumped onto her bed, the soft cushion sinking under her weight. Tucker sighed internally with relief; it was hard to deal with the goth when she was actually angry, especially since the buffer that was Danny had escaped a few months ago.

Tucker was upset, too. The easy banter and the late-night game sessions of Doomed were sorely missed with the absence of his best friend. He had missed just _hanging out_ with his dork of a bestie, his retriever energy lighting up the room, sometimes literally. Shoot, he even missed the random Ghost attacks and Danny’s complaints about them and school and…everything! But they didn’t even have that anymore.

Ghosts had stopped coming to Amity Park since they had rescued Danny from the Ghost Investigation Ward. Those pains in the neck turned mortal enemies, who had made it their mission to destroy anything and everything having to do with Ghosts and the Realms, had been attempting to create a new man-made portal after Team Phantom, to included Sam, Jazz, Val, and Tucker himself, had detonated the Fenton Portal. Tucker, for his part, had been ensuring that the Guys in White had no access to anything related to the Realms, hacking into their systems every few days or so to set program after program to annihilate their servers.

It was fun…would have been more fun with his best friend by his side.

Tucker sighed, watching his other best friend pull out her phone again, refreshing the messages application that Tucker had designed to reach into the Realms without the need for an open portal or signal. It was a feat of technological genius, if he did say so himself, reaching into the great beyond like it was just on the other side of the world. Too bad it wasn’t working.

Sam hid her emotions besides her righteous anger very well, always coming off aloof and poised in the face of changes or extreme stress, but it was obvious she was worried. Angry and worried, but worried none-the-less. The hundreds of plants that dominated her room swayed with her energy, twisting and curling with her emotions: a parting gift from the Ancient Overgrowth after possessing her. Tucker was sure that, once Sam passed away, she would become a ghost similar to the Ancient, who had basically soul adopted her as he left back into the Realms and granted her relative control over the plant life around herself.

She began tapping away for the umpteenth time, sending more messages to Danny in the hope he would receive them and call. Tucker knew that it wouldn’t work, Danny’s signal from his phone having dropped off a few hours after his last phone call with the girl, but he kept that fact to himself. He didn’t want her ire to transfer to him today, thank you very much.

The techie spun around again, going back to his work. The GIW had tried to break out of the quarantine he had placed their systems in again, and Tucker had to laugh at their foolishness. ‘As if I’d let you escape…’ His fingers flew over his beautiful new laptop, lovingly named Satana, as he locked down their systems even tighter, throwing the metaphorical key so far into the trash that it may as well have become lost to time.

“Boo-tiful work as always, Tuck!”

Tucker whipped his head around, looking for the source of the echo. Sam looked up at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion, “What?”

“Nothing…” Tucker turned back, his heart beating out of his chest, ‘Ancients_…now I’m hearing things…’ He let out a shaky breath, centering himself as he closed his laptop. Spinning around fully again, he faced Sam who had put her phone down and was staring at him skeptically.

“So,” she started, “there’s nothing we can do to contact Danny. There’s no way to see if he’s safe. All we can do is sit here twiddling our thumbs while he could be getting himself fully killed as we speak.”

“Sounds about right,” Tucker finished lamely, setting an elbow on the armrest of the chair and leaning his cheek into the meat of his palm, “None of the other ghosts in the Realms have a Phantomfone. Should really fix that…there are some ghosts who know how to use tech…”

Sam threw up her arms, slumping back into her bed and let out a frustrated huff, “Great… Just wonderful…Vlad isn’t even around to extort into helping…”

Tucker let out a chuckle, standing up and stretching, “No, but we can always go mess with the GIW. That always cheers you up.”

“I set fire to one of their squad vans yesterday. Need to lay low today to keep them guessing,” the goth mused, smirking to herself and causing Tucker to laugh in amusement.

“Sure, then we could drop by the Nasty Burger? Val may have something we could…” Tucker trailed off, spying a green sticky note pasted to Sam’s bedroom door…that had not been there before.

He quickly scrambled over to the note, causing Sam to jump up in surprise.

“What?!” She exclaimed, seeing her friend grab the offending note from her door. She hopped up, rushing to his side to read it along with him.

“Team Phantom, fret not. King Phantom is currently performing his duties and will be out of contact for the foreseeable future. He will contact you once he is available. -CW” Tucker read out.

“That…” Sam said slowly, her indignant rage making a comeback, “THAT SON OF A-” she threw her phone against the wall, “THAT MOTHER FLUBBIN-” she flipped the small coffee table at the center of her room, upending it and pushing the offending object to the side, “PIECE OF-” she grabbed one of her pillows and screamed into it, muffling the sound.

Tucker just stared numbly at the note. For Clockwork to send one of his famous neon green sticky notes like this to someone other than Danny, it showed that something was terribly wrong. Not that something hadn’t gone wrong when Danny received one of these, but for them to receive one? It meant them worrying about Danny was completely justified but may cause issues for him. And didn’t that feel like a slap in the face.

“I…” Tucker hesitated, feeling as lost and upset as Sam seemed to, internally cataloging what he could do to help his friend, but coming up with nothing.

Sam’s rage had begun to affect the plants again, the vines twisting and curling in anger and malice. Tucker started, coming out of himself and rushing to Sam’s side, “Sam, you have to stop. You’re gonna bring them here!”

While Sam and Tucker weren’t as powerful or potent as Danny, their own Ecto-contamination could still trigger the GIW sensors with enough emotion. It sucked, needing to be in control of teenage angst and feelings all the time, but it was necessary. They would not become the reason Danny lost his fraid.

With one last scream of fury, Sam took a deep breath, centering herself as she buried into her bedsheets. The plants’ violent dance had begun to subside, settling back into their docile slumber. Tucker let out a relieved sigh, slumping against the side of the bed and sliding onto the floor.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, digesting their emotions and weighing their options. Either they could ignore Clockwork’s message, find a way to get to Danny and help him out while most certainly screwing up whatever he was trying to do, or they could trust their friend to take care of himself and call for them if or when they were needed.

The silence stretched on, frustration and sadness filling the room. Sam sat up abruptly, moving over to Tucker and snatching the note out of his hand, pulling an offended “Hey!” from his lips. Sam glared at the note, as though she could kill the Ancient of Time just by burning a hole into the note with her mind.

“If anything happens to him, I will find you and I will end you. That’s not a threat, that’s a p̷̡̗͛͊r̴͚͘o̴̗̐̈m̴͍͓͆̚i̶̻̿̉s̵͉̔e̵͓̣̋̈́,” she snarled, her voice filled with venom and a slight tilt of ghost speech. Tucker shuddered, sure that if anyone could fulfill that promise, Sam could.

She continued to glare at the note as Tucker stood up, brushing off his pants to remove any wrinkles that may have formed there.

“So…” he said, grabbing his bag and stowing his laptop inside, “Nasty Burger?”

Sam continued to glare at the note, then sighed, folding the thing and putting it into one of the many pockets of her bulky black cargo pants, “Yeah, I could eat.” Tucker chuckled, holding the door for her as they left the room, closing the door with a soft click.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire - 25 December 2010

Taylor was buzzing with excitement. This would be the first Christmas since her mom had passed that she would celebrate with her dad and a friend. Last Christmas had been met with a cold and empty house, her dad sequestering himself at work and leaving money on the counter for pizza. Taylor had stayed in her room that night, crying herself to sleep in her loneliness.

‘This year is different though!’ She thought triumphantly, dressing herself in a nice shirt and some jeans. She looked at herself in the mirror set up in her room, taking in her appearance. She never liked what she saw: a thin-lipped face, wide mouth, large eyes that she felt bugged out of her face, a gangly figure that was too tall and too thin. The only feature on her that she actually liked was her curly black hair, long and feminine.

Even taking in all of her flaws, she didn’t care as much as usual. ‘Alright!’ she pumped herself up, grabbing a package wrapped in brown wrapping paper, none of the usual cheery Christmas wrapping that you would normally see this time of year for a gift. With one last look at her appearance in the mirror, she exited her room, shutting the door behind her.

Taylor could smell her dad’s cooking permeating through the house. It was heavenly, making her stomach rumble. She made her way down the stairs, passing the living room without a glance and entering the kitchen.

“Morning, Dad,” Taylor called cheerfully. Her dad was at the stove, browning something or other in a skillet. He looked over his shoulder, flashing a smile her way.

“Morning, Taylor,” he replied, “Can you wake up Danny? I let him sleep in, but it’s almost noon. The plan is to eat at three, then get ready to go.” Taylor nodded enthusiastically, practically vibrating as she rushed to the couch Danny had been occupying. She didn’t really think that hard as she placed the package in her hands on the coffee table, tapping the lump of blankets to wake her friend.

“Caaaaasper,” she sang, crouching at eye level as the blanket lump moaned in protest, “Time to wake up! It’s a big day and you’re sleeping through it!”

She grinned as Danny’s face emerged, sleep still clinging to his heavy-lidded eyes as he rubbed them, “…didn’t anyone tell ya not to wake the dead, Taylor?” he groused, sinking further into his cocoon. She chuckled, grabbing one edge of the blanket, then yanking hard.

Danny was pulled out of his refuge, falling flat on his face as Taylor held the blanket up in triumph. He didn’t move for a second, just laid there and groaned. Taylor chuckled again, ducking down with the blanket and tilted her head at the disgruntled boy.

“Up and at ‘em, Casp,” Danny snorted at the shortened nickname, “Things to do, stuff to see. We need the couch, so get up.”

Danny groaned again, dramatically flipping himself over while placing an arm over his face like he was a French maid who had just fainted from shock, “Go on without me, Tay Tay. I’m afraid that I have died fully. Mourn me.”

Taylor laughed, kicking him lightly in the side.

“ACK! ABUSE!” Danny cried, causing Taylor to roll her eyes.

“Sound pretty lively for a dead man. Get up and open this,” she turned and picked up the package, shoving it into the boy’s hands as she sat at the foot of the couch. He stared at the package for a moment in shock, taking in the neat wrapping and blank surface.

“Well? Open it!” Taylor grinned, her knees curled under her as she stared at her friend.

“I…I don’t-” Danny stammered, looking back at Taylor with slight panic before Taylor interrupted him.

“I know you don’t celebrate Christmas, Casper,” She stated plainly, “You said so on Yule. Consider this a thank you gift for teaching me to fight.” She squared her shoulders in pride, glancing at her friend, “You said I’m getting better, right? Well, this is a thank you! You’re going to need it anyway for later.”

Danny squinted at her, suspicious, then turned back to the package in his hands. Taylor forced her body to remain relaxed, not letting her nerves show as the boy held the package close to his ear and shook it, testing the contents. He began to carefully open the wrapping, only tearing it if necessary. Finally, he got to the box inside and laughed, finding the thing duck taped.

“Seriously?” He turned toward her, amused, as she let out a mischievous cackle. As Danny began to rip into the package with gusto, Taylor looked to the kitchen doorway to see her dad leaned in the frame, arms crossed and smiling at them. Taylor stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to shake his head with a chuckle while returning to the food in the kitchen.

Danny cheered triumphantly as he successfully tore the box apart, looking inside to find a large black hoodie with a neon green cartoon ghost emblazed on the front with the phrase ‘This is Boo-Sheet’ surrounding the center. Danny looked at it, pausing with the cloth outstretched, then burst into laughter, pulling it in and clutching the hoodie close to his chest.

Taylor grinned, “So you like it then? It has fleece on the inside, perfect for keeping warm in the snow you like to sit in so much.”

Danny wiped a tear from his eye, holding out the hoodie again, “This is boo-tiful.” Taylor groaned, punching him in the arm as he pulled the hoodie over his head. He stood, showing off his prize, “How do I look?”

“Like boo sheet,” Taylor said dryly, drawing another cackle from her friend.

Taylor had gone out with her Dad for errands the day before when she had spotted the hoodie in one of those consignment discount stores. With Danny’s pension for puns, his ghostlyness, and his refusal to swear, Taylor just had to get it for him. Her Dad had made fun of her all the way home for it, but Taylor couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Let’s go, Casper. Come help with food.” Taylor stood, walking to the kitchen with Danny on her heels like an excitable puppy.

Her Dad looked over, taking a dish out of the oven and placing it on the counter, “You two are just in time! Nice sweater, Danny.”

Danny grinned at the older man, “Right? Isn’t it specter-cular?” Taylor smacked him in the shoulder and moved to the dining table as her dad snickered, setting the area with the plates and silverware that had been prepped.

The three chatted in the kitchen while the food cooked, and Taylor felt, for the first time in a while, that her family was whole again, her dorky dad, making dish after dish of her favorite foods and actually happy, alert, and present. She was smiling, laughing, confident that the day wouldn’t suck for once. And Danny...the first friend she had made since mom, grinning after a pun that was a true crime against humanity.

‘I... I’m glad he’s here. I wonder if this is what a brother is like?’ she thought to herself, chuckling along with her dad as Danny attempted to not get covered in mashed potatoes by a runaway mixer, which he failed miserably. Taylor had wondered for a bit now why Danny was such an easy person to talk to. To like. She had some theories: it could be his golden retriever energy being infectious while spreading happiness to those around him, or it could be that he was just a likable guy that was great in social situations similar to a social chameleon.

The most likely reason though: it had something to do with his powers. Danny was weirdly in tune with those around him. There were times that they had gone running around the area for training where Danny would just...change their course with no warning. When she asked about it, he would just laugh and say “What, can’t keep up?” then keep running, leaving her to sprint to stay with him. One of those times, Taylor thought she had seen some shadows from behind them in an alley, but she didn’t get a good enough look to confirm anything.

He would also know when Taylor’s Dad was having a relapse into his previous depressive state. It happened whenever Dad moved too close to the bookshelf in the hall, where they kept their memories of Mom. Dad would stand there, staring at the shelves for a second too long, and Danny would come crashing in like the excitable gremlin he was, ranting about some slight that Taylor had not done against him. It would always crack Dad up and break him out of whatever funk he was in.

Danny was never intrusive. He never asked unprompted questions and did his best to be a wonderful house guest. But...it was weird how good he was at reading the room.

‘I’ll have to ask him later. I’m 90% sure it’s the power thing… 10% he’s part dog.’ Taylor let out a huff of amusement as Dad tried to help Danny with the mixer, resulting in them both being covered in the mashed spuds. They looked over to her at the sound, then to each other, sharing a devious grin.

“No,” Taylor started, but then the younger boy rushed her, Danny colliding with her while covering her in potatoes and knocking them both to the ground, “FUCKIN DAMN IT!” All she got in return a mischievous cackle and a “Language.”

Dad laughed, walking over to the pair with a hand towel, “Why is it whenever you do anything together, you end up covered in dirt or food?”

“Because this heathen doesn’t know how to stay clean,” Taylor supplied as she pushed the boy off of her.

“Says the heathen who goes right along into the mess,” Danny smirked while rolling over, kicking himself off the ground onto his feet, reaching a hand down to Taylor.

“You still need to teach me that,” Taylor mumbled, taking his hand, and pulling herself off the ground. Danny chuckled, then looked at her, eyes twinkling.

“Race you,” he exclaimed, running out of the kitchen to the bathroom, intent on taking it over before her.

“YOU BASTARD, GET BACK HERE!” Taylor sprinting after him. Last time he took the bathroom first, he was in there for hours just to mess with her, the little lunatic.

“LANGUAGE!” He yelled back.

The race was on.

Taylor won, but she was pretty sure that Danny had let her win. By the time she finished cleaning the potatoes off of her, Danny had already used the downstairs sink to clean himself off.

“Menace,” Taylor griped, sitting down at the table that had been set in her absence.

“I’m an angel,” Danny lied, smiling sweetly at her.

She sighed, “Keep telling yourself that, Casper.” Dad chuckled, serving out the food for their late non-denominational lunch.

“You guys coulda just celebrated your Christmas,” Danny said, looking at the food in front of them with a small frown, “I coulda just left for the day.”

“Nope,” Dad said simply, “We don’t really celebrate Christmas all that much anyway, and we didn’t have anything set up in the first place. This,” he gestured to the feast in front of them, “is just another ordinary day of giving thanks to what we have.” He winked at Danny, who was staring at the elder man with suspicion, “Besides, you being gone for the day would defeat the purpose,”

Taylor nodded, “Like I said, Casper. This is a thank you for everything you are doing for us. Teaching me to defend myself, helping clean around the house, fixing the stuff you break-”

“Hey!” Danny interrupted, like Taylor thought he would, “I’ll have ya know I haven’t broken a single thing!”

“The step.” Taylor said flatly.

“Well, that-”

“The faucet.” Dad supplied, taking a bite of the corn on his plate.

“Now it-”

“The fridge.” Taylor grinned.

“Okay, that wasn’t my fault,” Danny sulked, crossing his arms and puffing his cheeks out in a pout.

The Heberts laughed, Danny’s own smile returning to his face as they did so.

“Eat up, Casper,” Taylor ordered, tucking in to her own food, “We got a long evening ahead of us.”

“Aye Aye, Capitano!” Danny gave a silly salute, then began to eat. One other thing Taylor had noticed about the Ghost boy: he could eat, shoveling finely cut up and mashed food into his mouth that Taylor wouldn’t be surprised if the boy had a Mover classification. It was a wonder why the boy was so light.

The trio ate, laughing and joking all the while until their stomachs were full and they were beginning to fall into mythical Food Comas. Taylor sighed in contentment, letting the peace of the moment fill her body and soul. Danny was slouched over the table, forehead squished on the surface where his plate had been. Dad leaned back in his chair, eyes closed in happiness. Taylor could almost hear a contented buzz in the air.

“Alright,” Dad groaned, standing up from his chair, “Let’s get this cleaned up and get ready for the next agenda.”

Danny whined, rolling his head so his cheek was flush with the table, “Nooooooo…”

Taylor let out a huff of amusement, standing from her own chair, “Let’s go, Casper. Daylight’s ticking away.”

Danny squinted at her. She stared back, smirk on her face and hand on her hip.

“If you don’t move, Ghost Boy, I’ll make you,” Danny must have read something in Taylor’s grin, because he shot up out of his seat.

“Fine, I’m going!” He grabbed some of the dishes from the table, bringing them to the sink, whispering under his breath, “You’re scary when you’re motivated.”

Taylor preened in victory, grabbing more plates as the group washed up, leftovers non-existent due to Danny’s appetite. Once finished, Taylor’s Dad went to the coat closet, grabbing one for each of them. “Alright, kiddos! Let’s go!”

Taylor let out an excited whoop, grabbing her coat from him as Danny stood slightly behind.

“Where are we goin?” Danny cocked his head to the side, taking the coat Danny Sr handed to him.

“You’ll just have to wait and see!” Taylor threw open the door, backing into the front yard as the two boys followed, Danny’s face sporting a humoring eyebrow raise. Dad chuckled, closing the door behind them.

Danny’s initial plans for Christmas Day were to sleep in, then make himself scarce. He didn’t want any of his bad mood for the day to take over the holiday for the two people he had come to care for. The night of Christmas Eve, Danny had been contemplating where he would go for the dreaded day of cheer. He felt like anywhere he would go, the festive atmosphere would follow, and while he had gotten over a bit of his Grinchness for Christmas, he had no interest in celebrating the holiday.

Christmas reminded him of...of Jack and Maddie. Of their constant and repetitive fights that occurred all through his childhood (a childhood that hadn’t ended yet...and might never end…). One side swearing that Santa Claus was real, the other saying it was impossible for him to exist in the first place. You’d think that having their entire life’s work be about something that had no proof of existence until about two years ago would make them more open-minded...but honestly, what did Danny expect from them (the people who…).

What he did not expect was Taylor and her Dad to create an entire morning dedicated to making him feel welcome. No one besides Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had ever done something like that for him. It would have made him tear up if he had time to think about it. But no, they were very much ‘go go go’ since Taylor had woken him up, her emotions exploding in excitement. It had caught Danny off guard, so used to the girl keeping most of her emotions in check.

Danny sat in the back of the car, Taylor and her father in the front seats singing along to a song on the radio. Danny didn’t know the song, but it was catchy; he tapped his fingers on the car door frame as he listened while bathed in the excited emotions of his two favorite people in this dimension. It was getting him hyped for whatever they had planned.

They were driving to the outskirts of the city, Danny taking in the sights as they flew by. He hadn’t been out this far yet, mostly seeing things at ground level while running with Taylor. The city definitely wasn’t the safest, their running routes shifting multiple times a session due to a malicious feeling that Danny could taste on the wind. Taylor was getting better, but he wouldn’t risk his friend’s safety just to see if she could defend herself. That would be a sucky thing to do to another person.

Another thing Danny noticed about this city was the heroes. When he would go on a rare outing with the Heberts, there was always a hero to be found. The city was crawling with them, and Danny wasn’t sure that was a good thing or not. This number of heroes in one area? That had to mean there were a lot of dangers he was unaware of. There was crime, for sure, but he also knew there were ‘villains,’ as Taylor put it.

Since making peace with most of his own rogues, Danny had a unique perspective on the word ‘villain.’ There were those misunderstood folks who just wanted to have fun, or wanted attention, maybe just entertainment that went in the wrong direction, like Youngblood, Ember, or Johnny 13 and Kitty. He had grown to love his rogues, some of them becoming closer to family or good friends. Not fraid, by any means, but fun to be around.

There were also those who Danny considered irredeemable. Those who would damage, wreck, destroy, and steal their way to getting what they wanted, no matter the cost. People like Freakshow, Frederich Isak Shownhower, the madman who had use mind control to force ghosts to do his bidding, including Danny, stealing treasures and attempting to murder anyone who got in his way, using his crystal ball and the Reality Gauntlet to do as he wished. People like Pariah Dark, who had controlled the Infinite Realms as a dictator, ruling with an iron fist for as long as anyone could remember. A tyrant who tried to steal Danny’s haunt away and overrun the world with ghosts before Danny had stopped him.

Danny wondered how many Freakshows and Pariah Darks there were in this dimension.

“We’re here!” Taylor exclaimed. Danny jumped out of his thoughts, looking outside the car window. It was a small parking lot, very few cars parked in its spaces. The Heberts stepped out into the lot, Danny following close behind. Glancing around, Danny saw no one else but them.

“This way, Casper,” Taylor called from a little down the way, carrying a bundle of objects in her arms. Danny rushed to her side, grabbing some of the items from her.

“What is all this stuff anyway,” he asked, glancing at into his arms to find…

“What, you never been on a picnic before,” Taylor raised an eyebrow, smirking at him.

Danny shrugged, shifting the large blanket and solo cups in his arms. Taylor’s dad laughed, cooler and basket secured in hands, “We thought a nice change of pace would do everyone some good. And we haven’t been here in a while,” his smile turned melancholy as they started up a large hill, “Seemed the time to make the trip.”

Danny was immediately set on edge, glancing at the Heberts as both of their emotions turned nostalgic and... raw. Rubbed raw like in a way that only loss could do. His gaze shifted to the top of the hill, where a small gravestone sat embedded into the earth, overlooking the city below.

‘Oh...’ Danny thought dumbly as Taylor set her items on the ground, unwrapping a small bouquet of wildflowers, and setting them next to the grave. Her father began organizing their haul, placing everything in specific spots and glancing at Danny who was clutching the blanket like his half-life (ha) depended on it.

“Danny?” Danny Sr nudged the boy, startling him out of his panic, “The blanket, please.”

Danny handed the man what he asked for, forcing his fingers to unclench from the fabric. The elder man took it gratefully, laying the cloth on the cold hard ground.

“U-umm,” Danny stammered, taking a step back from the scene, “I-I shouldn’t-”

“Danny,” Taylor’s voice called from next to him. ‘When did she get there?’ Danny jumped, feeling Taylor’s smaller hand tap his shoulder. He looked at her, distressed, and she smiled.

“I want you to meet someone,” she said simply, taking him by the arm and dragging him closer to the grave.

“I- but-,” Danny was definitely panicking as his friend set him in front of the stone.

Etched into its surface read:

Annette Rose Hebert  
1969-2008
She taught something precious to each of us.

“Mom, this is Danny,” Taylor stated, “He’s been helping me get stronger, more confident.” Danny stared at Taylor, eyes wide with disbelief as she continued. “He’s whiny, annoying, and his puns are an affront to the English language,” Danny made a surprised squawk of indignation at her words, about to say something, but, “You would love him. He’s the brother I never had and the son you would have wanted.”

Danny stared at her, mouth agape in shock.

Taylor turned to him, whipping her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, then chuckled at his expression. She lifted a hand, pushing his mouth shut, “You’ll catch flies.”

“Taylor, I-” Danny stammered, but was interrupted.

“Nope, sorry, Casper,” She grinned, mischief dancing in her eyes, “Too late to get rid of us. We’re like leeches!”

Danny let out an involuntary sputter of laughter as Taylor turned away, walking back toward her father to help finish setting up their impromptu picnic. They began to talk with each other, leaving the boy to his thoughts until he was ready to join them.

Danny glanced back to the grave, processing his emotions, his eyes moist with unshed tears. He brought up his arm, using the borrowed jacket’s sleeve to stop the embarrassing show of emotion, when he stiffened as his lungs filled with cool mist stuck at the base of this throat. Bringing down his arm, Danny spotted the shade from the Hebert house behind the grave, its curly haired silhouette standing out against the later afternoon sky. She tilted her head at him, then reached out a shadowy hand toward his head. He didn’t move as it patted his fluffy black hair, feeling not a physical weight at the touch, but an emotional on. ‘Love/Care/Mine’ it whispered, making Danny’s core purred with longing.

‘Love/Care/Family’ Danny’s core sang back involuntarily, letting the emotions wash over him like a warm summer breeze.

“...I’ll protect them...I promise,” He whispered into the air, the weight of the promise sinking into his purring core. He felt ‘Amused/Love/Family/TakeCare’ from the shade, pushing him toward the new part of his fraid, the shade’s blanket of emotions surrounding them all in warmth. Danny smiled, wiped his face again, then left the shade, returning to the living Heberts sides.

That afternoon, the three enjoyed each other’s companies. Danny teased Taylor about her combat form, resulting in the girl tackling him to the ground in an impromptu wrestling match. Danny Sr laughed at his kiddos’ antics as he sipped a beer he had brought with them. Taylor exclaimed in victory at having pinned a cackling Danny to the ground, his face in the cold snow with Taylor’s own knee in his back, her arms raised in victory.

They stayed there, until the sun began to set, then drove home. Content.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire – 31 December 2010

The next few days were set in a routine. Danny and Taylor kept up with the girl’s training, Danny moving on from general stamina to teaching her mobility moves. He had created an obstacle course in the backyard, yelling “PARKCORE” as he hopped around the space. Taylor was getting better, able to keep up with the boy by day three. He then started teaching her how to stay on her feet, or if failing that, how to return to her feet quickly.

Every day the two would end up covered in muddy slush and dirt. When he was home, Taylor’s dad would refuse them reentry into the house until they were hosed off. Most of their training sessions ended with the two teens bundled up under blankets in front of the couch with tea and hot chocolate, watching some telenovela on tv while they would dramatically reenact some of the lines.

Danny Sr had to return back to work, to which Danny Jr learned was as a union rep for the Dockworkers Union. The elder man fought hard to find jobs for the unemployed workers, ensuring that they were able to feed their families without resorting to crime. He also ensured his worker’s safety when completing said jobs, making sure they were not hired by any of the local gangs on accident. Finally, he was working on petitions to get his pet project, the Ferry, back up and running to increase commerce and tourism in the city. Apparently, a few years ago the city had been a thriving community, until the Boat Graveyard was made as a result of a monster called Leviathan.

Danny learning that there were full on Kaiju living in this world, he was embarrassed to admit that he got a little excited. That was, until Taylor had actually explained them to him. Kaiju indeed, in every sense of the word: strange creatures that appeared at relative random intervals to wreck and destroy everything in their path. Creatures that had resulted in a truce between Heroes and Villains alike, bringing everyone together just to drive the creatures off. Danny promised himself that if he were still here for the next attack, he would do what he could to help out.

After a grueling day of training (for Taylor), the teens were seated in their normal bundles of blankets, holding their mugs of preferred drink: Earl Gray Tea for Taylor and Caramel Hot Chocolate with extra Marshmallows for Danny. Danny was getting restless, and he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the excess sugar now in his system.

It had been two weeks since he had arrived in this dimension. Two weeks since he had been able to fully indulge in either of his Obsessions. Obsessions were the reason for a ghost’s existence, their driving force and purpose. Danny, being the special snowflake ('HA'), had two.

The first was Protection: the running theory from Team Phantom was that he had been that when he had died and become a halfa, the cries of his friends had triggered a protective instinct in him, resulting in the Obsession. Danny had been able to fulfill some of it, while training Taylor; it was one of the reasons he had agreed so easily to training her to defend herself. But protecting one or two people had never really been enough for him. He was beginning to set up another Haunt here, as involuntary as it was. He was itching to patrol the area he had claimed as his own, to ensure the residence were safe and to fully set his territory. For now, it only included the Hebert house.

The second Obsession was Space. The universe, its galaxies, the cosmos, and the stars; all of it made Danny’s core sing with longing. He wanted to watch the sky for hours, days even. He could just sit and stare forever into the void of dark and cool. The thought of flying into the sky and lazing about, watching the stars called to him in a way nothing else could. But Danny’s first Obsession kept him on the ground; if he transformed to fly through the sky, Vlad would have an easier time finding him and bring him to his Haunt, which he did not want. He was fine seeing the stars from his place on the planet, but one thing he was unaware of needing was just that… space. He needed personal space and here, in this world, he was always with either of the Heberts. It was getting restricting, itchy, like Danny was going to burst out of his own skin and leave the husk behind.

So.

Danny stood up, letting the blanket drop to the floor, grabbing his and Taylor’s mugs and bringing them into the kitchen. Taylor was dozing, half asleep with her head on the couch cushions and lulling to the side. When Danny returned, he crouched next to his friend and poked her in the cheek.

“…hm?” Taylor peeked at him, then sat up straighter, feeling the excitable energy rolling of the halfa like steam.

“I’m goin out, want anything?” Danny asked, his core humming in excitement as it prepared to indulge in space.

“I…no I’m good. You want me to come with?” Taylor asked, cautiously moving to sit up.

“Nope,” Danny popped the p happily, patting her on the shoulder, “You take your nap. I’m going for a walk.”

The mischievous grin on his face gave Taylor pause, trying to read his intentions. Danny’s body was shaking slightly, the nervous energy looking for release.

“…Go for it,” Taylor supplied, shrugging her shoulders, “just don’t get into any trouble.”

Danny laughed, “What do ya mean? Mua? ‘Safety’ is my middle name!”

“I thought your middle name was ‘Danger?’”

Danny cracked up, “That’s me! Danny ‘Danger’ ‘Safety’ Phantom!” Taylor groaned as she batted him on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Get the hell out of here, Casper. Enjoy the city. God knows you need to work off some of your excitable dog energy.” Taylor rolled her eyes as Danny let out a whoop, then he hopped up and rushed out the door.

“Dork,” Taylor said fondly as she lifted herself fully on the couch and settled down for a nap.

______________________________________________________________________

Danny was soaring! Not literally, but he was running fast, the hood from his ghost hoodie pulled up and over his hair.

‘LETS GOOOOOOOO!’ He grinned, sliding around a corner, using a lamp post as leverage to swing himself around, and sprinting down the another sidewalk. He kept running, forcing himself to stay at the high end of normal human speed. He wasn’t sure what the process was in using powers in a superhuman world, but he didn’t want to get arrested for using them without a permit or something.

He ran until his lungs began to feel the burn of exercise, reaching the Boardwalk in his haste. It was New Year’s Eve Day, and a lot of the shops were open, sales and deals on display for the new year. Danny spent an hour walking around, looking at the different items, making note what his friends in Amity and the Realms would like.

‘Tucker would love one of these,’ Danny mused, stopping in front of stall while perusing the tech on display. The phones here were impressive: sleek, thin devices that fit in the palm of a hand. They apparently could access the internet from anywhere there was a signal, like a miniature computer that everyone seemed to have access to at an affordable price. It was impressive, and Danny really wanted to crack one open to see how it worked. ‘Maybe we could get it to connect through dimensions…’

He moved on, eyes catching on the bright lights of an arcade. He wandered in, checking his pockets for some of the extra cash Taylor’s dad had lent him. Pulling out a few quarters, he moved to a zombie shooting game he had never heard, grabbed the red plastic gun, and began to play.

‘This isn’t nearly as hard to play as Doomed…' Danny had just knocked out the big bad of the last level, moving on to the next, when he felt a presence behind him, a buzz of livewires zapping in the back of his mind.

He could feel dry apathy with a hint of… interest? from someone behind him. Danny could tell the person’s stare not at him, but at the game, watching every action and movement of the character. The feeling of apathy was always a weird one, like an arid desert with no water but a small hint of oasis waters of other emotions sprinkled in. It was always difficult to read individuals that were predominantly apathetic as the dry feeling would cling, covering any other emotion with a layer of dust.

Danny glanced over his shoulder, spying a boy about his age with an objectively handsome face with angular features, pale blue eyes, and dark curly hair. He sported a white shirt slightly too big for him and black fitted pants, a silvery chain hanging from one of the belt loops. His face was extremely expressive while sporting a grin as he watched Danny clock one zombie with rapid body shots. It concerned Danny that the guy was so apathetic but felt the need to express himself so exaggeratedly.

Danny grabbed the other gun, blue this time, from the machine, holding it out to the boy while not really looking at him, shooting another zombie in the face one-handed, “Wanna wreck some zombies?”

The boy didn’t move for a second, then smoothly sauntered up to Danny, grabbing the other gun from his hand. Danny grinned, putting another quarter into the machine, and hitting the bright blue button for his new second to join the game.

They didn’t really speak to each other, only calling out kills and shouts of victory over particularly tanky opponents. Danny was having a great time, whooping when they took out the last boss and holding out a hand to his shooting buddy.

“HECK YES,” Danny exclaimed, his companion slapping his hand in a high-five with an amused expression, “You’re great at this game!”

The boy chuckled, turning the blue gun in his hand with a flourish and holstering it back in the machine, “What can I say, I’m amazing.”

Danny laughed, “Yeah, you are! That was seriously impressive! That shot at the end? Genius!” The other boy preened under Danny’s praise, his arms resting behind his head in a relaxed position.

“Not so bad yourself. It’s only a game though, not like it takes too much skill.”

Danny shrugged, stretching his arms out and letting his back pop, “Yeah, it’s got nothing on Doomed, honestly.”

“Doomed?” The boy looked at Danny inquisitively, cocking his head to the side slightly, “Never heard of it.”

Danny shrugged again, “Yeah, it’s not popular here, so I guess it was aiming for a different audience.”

The boy hummed, then smiled, “Maybe. Shame; I thought I knew about all these types of games.”

Danny nodded, nonchalantly, “They must have missed the mark for ya to not catch it, yeah?”

The other teen nodded in agreement, “Shame there aren’t many good games out there to keep people’s interest as it is.”

Danny smirked, “The caliber of games has really gone down the drain.”

The boy stopped, staring at Danny for a moment, “Are…are you making puns right now?”

Danny broke out into a full-on grin, “This is barrel-y a warmup.” The boy let out a hardy laugh.

“Your pretty loaded with those, huh?” the teen put a hand on his hip, mild humor licking the sand of his dry apathy.

Danny grinned, shrugging, “I’m always on target when there’s an ammo-zing audience!” The other teen laughed again, the humor sliding into the apathetic sand like a small tide. Danny’s core hummed slightly in happiness, resonating good humor around him. The halfa was glad to make a guy like this smile for real rather than pretend.

The teen’s laughter teetered off, taking in a deep breath to center himself. The humor receded back to its small oasis, causing Danny’s core to pout slightly. notenough/joy/happy it whispered out, but Danny suppressed it. No influencing emotions: it wasn’t a kind thing to do in the slightest, even if it made someone happy for a short period of time.

The teen was saying something, so Danny focused there instead, “Well, as fun as that was, I need to dip. It as a blast meeting you.” His lazy drawl floated from his mouth as he held out a hand, “Let’s do this again some time.”

Danny’s smile could have split his face as he took the boy’s hand and shook it once, “Nice shootin the breeze with ya! Let’s definitely do this again!” The boy nods, then saunters away toward the door of the arcade when Danny calls out again.

“Oh, the name’s Danny, by the way!”

The boy turned, his oasis of emotions bubbling with…humor and mischief, “Colt. Nice to meet you, Danny.” And he walked out the doors.

Danny chuckled to himself as he watched the boy leave, feeling satisfied with their interaction…for now. The halfa truly hoped he could make the boy feel more emotion freely the next time they met. Danny roamed around the arcade for a few more minutes, and, finding nothing of interest, left the building, continuing his walk through the Boardwalk.

Alec walked out of the doors of the arcade, whistling to himself as he went.

‘Well, that wasn’t a complete waste of time,’ he thought, letting his mind wander to his chance encounter to a fellow first-person shooter connoisseur. Alec had felt a weird pull from Player Red, something making him stop to watch the guy’s moves.

Alec was already a pro at the “Dead Skyrise” game the other boy had been playing, so most of the strategies were already ingrained in his head. The boy had a strange way of thinking for sure, taking out enemies with ease and with some particularly hilariously aimed shots. Alec himself had thought he was quiet when approaching the other kid from behind, but when he turned to look at him, handing him the blue gun and taking a no-look pot shot at a zombie, well it made Alec interested enough to humor the guy.

When the guy started throwing puns around like it was a sport? Now that was hilarious! Finding someone with a good sense of humor was rare, and Alec was a bit pleased that he had found someone who wasn’t so serious and dower, like Grue, but also not a completely nosy bitch, like Tattletale.

‘And he’s good at shooters,’ Alec mused, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. He palmed it, looking down at the text he’d received. Reading its contents, the teen sighed.

“Laaaaame…” he pocketed his phone, making his way back to the Undersider’s hideout.

‘At least I’ll get paid…this sucks. I should have ignored it and played some more.’

Alec continued on, thinking about what he would do with his share of the payment for the Undersider’s next job, and when he could see the other teen, Danny, again.

‘Wonder what other games he plays…’ Alec smirked, a pleasant buzz filling his head while looking forward to his next encounter with Player Red.

Danny continued to wander into Lords Street, no destination in mind, as his stomach rumbled. It was around noon; Taylor’s training session ending earlier in the morning due to fatigue, so Danny was starving. Danny looked around, spying a fast-food restaurant named “Fugly Bob’s.” Danny chuckled at the name, making his way inside.

The atmosphere was…interesting. Who thought to put a bar and a fast-food place in the same building? ‘Whoever Fugly Bob was,’ Danny guested, moving to the counter to put in his order, sitting in an empty booth as he waited. Looking out the window, Danny watched the waves of the ocean hit the beach, the chatter of restaurant goers becoming a comfortable buzz of background noise.

Relaxed, Danny didn’t notice the group of teens sidling up to his booth until they slid into it with him without prompting. Danny looked up at them, confused, until he felt a sharp poke to his side. Looking down, he sighed internally, a sharp looking pocketknife jabbing close to his side.

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid,” the knife wielding teen said, smile on his face like he was talking to an old friend, “Just hand over any money you got, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow at the teen. The boy Danny dubbed ‘Knify’ couldn’t be older then seventeen, sporting signs of being in many past fights. The other two who had accompanied Knify to this shakedown couldn’t have been older than him, each showing signs of departing prepubescence relatively recently.

The knife was pressed further into Danny’s side as he tried to prevent the sharp object from cutting his new hoodie.

“We don’t have all day, pretty boy,” one of the tagalongs whispered angrily, his blond hair cropped closely to his head. Danny was gonna call him ‘Dash 2.0.’

“Aw, you think I’m pretty,” Danny asked, fluttering his eyes at the teen. The boy recoiled, shocked and appalled by Danny’s response.

“Ew, you fuckin fag! Fuckin gross,” Dash 2.0 exclaimed, disgusted. Maybe Danny should change that name actually. Dash was a lot of things, but a homophobe was not one. ‘Princess’ it was!

Danny raised his eyebrow higher, “You were the one coming on to me, dude. I just asked a question. I got a significant other already, thanks.” Danny felt the knife prick his skin, glancing back at Knify next to him. He looked angry, fury blazing in his eyes.

“I should have known,” Knify’s voice rumbled quietly, his glare piercing Danny’s skin like the knife in his side, “you look like a fuckin fairy.”

Danny laughed good-naturedly, letting the knife phase into his side to avoid any additional damage to his hoodie while still giving the show of avoiding the sharp edge, “Thanks for the compliment! Though I don’t think that I’m that,” he paused, then flipped his short hair with a flourish, “fabulous!”

All three of the other boys looked confused and angry, their emotions of rage and disgust filling the booth. Danny was used to those emotions back in Amity, so it didn’t affect him very much. Just felt like…home.

“Y-You-” the third boy, now christened ‘Loudred,’ spluttered, his bulky build making it hard for him to force his way back out of the booth, away from Danny, “You’re fucked, you know that!? You-”

“Sit the fuck down,” Knify hissed, but it was already too late. The entire restaurant was focused on their booth, eyes bearing down on them. Danny smirked, leaning against the window completely relaxed as he added some of his ‘spooky energy,’ as Tucker called it, to the feeling. Whenever Danny pressed his influence into the air around him, he could increase or decrease people’s feelings of unease. Now, he increased it to about a two, not wanting the homophobes to stab him on accident in their distress.

“As fun as this is, I gotta grab my food,” Danny said simply and at normal volume, his elbow resting on the table, fist to his cheek, “So I suggest you move…unless you _want_ me to crawl over you,” Danny raised an eyebrow again, giving Knify a onceover with his eyes.

The elder teen shivered under Danny’s gaze, goosebumps racing over his skin and disgust pouring from his soul. He shot out of the booth, knife slipped back into his pocket.

“Fuck off, fag.”

Danny looked at the group as they left his booth, incredulous, “You sat here!”

The three teens left the restaurant with the patrons’ eyes still on them until the door shut behind them. Danny could feel their presences nearby, full of shame, anger, and disgust. ‘Yeeeeeaaaaaahhh…They’re gonna try and jump me after this.’ Danny thought, chuckling to himself as he grabbed his food, sitting back in his booth and chowing down, ignoring the occasional stare at his person. It wasn't as good as the Nasty Burger, but it'd do.

When he finished, Danny cleaned up his trash and tossed it. He put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, whistling as he left the restaurant.

“Amy,” Victoria Dallon said excitedly, “Did you see that?”

Amy Dallon sighed, looking at her sister while rolling her eyes, “What? A boy getting accosted by some Empire wannabes?”

Victoria let an exasperated sigh, “A cute boy handling a public mugging like a pro,” she giggled like a schoolgirl. Amy rolled her eyes, internally smiling at her sister’s antics.

“Do you think he’s single? You should ask him out, Ames!” Victoria beamed at her. Amy let out an exasperated huff, turning back to her food.

“Vicky, you know damn well he is just going to get mugged when he is alone,” Amy’s dry tone showed how interested in the idea of asking the boy out was to her.

“Not if we go in, save the day! You could be his hero! Get his number?” Vicky wiggled her eyebrows, causing Amy to spit out her drink.

“HA! What, no. That’s your schtick.” Amy glanced out the restaurant window, spotting the crystal blue eyes of the brave boy from earlier, his hands in his hoodie pocket while he whistled down the street. She glanced over, spotting the three teens from earlier following closely behind, but far enough to avoid detection from the oblivious teen.

Amy let a long breath out of her nose. This was supposed to be her break, time to hang out with her favorite person. She didn’t want to go after the kid that was stupidly about to get attacked for making jokes with Nazis. She looked up, spotting the look in Vicky’s eyes as she stared down the three obviously Empire Eighty-Eight gang initiates. Irritation welled up in Amy as she sighed outwardly, gathering her half-eaten food and trash.

“Let’s go,” She said simply, causing her sister to look up at her in surprise, “I know you want to.” Vicky let out a whoop of delight, rushing to toss her own food into the trash, and dragged her sister out the door. Amy smiled at the antics of her sister, fondly trailing behind her.

Following the four boys was easy: the three Empire initiates were not being subtle as they trailed after the whistling teen. Vicky was getting antsy, ready for something to pop off. Amy just followed her excitable sister, her pace casual as she walked.

Amy wasn’t worried in the slightest about the boy who was about to get mugged. Vicky was there and wouldn’t let anything happen to the poor sap. He’d fall in love with her sister, as usual, and be left brokenhearted when the blonde said she had a boyfriend. Cue another member of the Glory Girl Fan Club. It happened every time as if on cue, and Amy thought it was funny every time. ‘Serves them right,’ Amy thought, somewhat unkindly, ‘They should know better than to fall for someone that’s out of their reach.’ The thought brought Amy back to earth, her heart stinging at the unintentional jab at herself.

‘Pot calling the kettle,’ Amy sighed depressively, shaking her head from the notion. She loved her sister, she did, but it needed to stay where it was: a sisterly relationship for sisters, nothing more.

The black-haired boy took a corner into an alley, like an idiot, and the three gang-bangers followed, glee written on their faces.

“Let’s get closer,” Vicky whispered excitedly, ready to jump into a fight. Amy kept up with her sister as the reached closer to the alley, suddenly hearing a thudding sound from within. The blood drained from Amy’s face as the sped up, Vicky literally flying forward in her panic.

‘Crap, already? Normally there’s some posturing or…something!’ Amy’s thoughts flurried around her as her sister turned the corner, then stopped. Amy rushed to catch up, turning the corner to see…

The black-haired boy was the only one standing, two of the other teens on the ground groaning and the last with his arm in the standing boy’s grip. One teen was clutching his stomach, cradling it from the impact it must have taken. The second held his hands to his nether regions, tears flowing from his eyes and a high-pitched squeal of pain leaking from his mouth. The last looked he had been thrown as the black-haired boy dropped his arm, letting him thud fully into the ground gasping for air.

Black Hair slid and clapped his hands together, like a gymnast removing excess chalk, a carefree smile on his face, “I didn’t realize I was such a catch! I don’t mean to be koi, but I’m not reel-y a fan of haters!”

Amy let out an involuntary laugh at the boy’s words, causing him to whip his head around to stare at the two girls.

“Oh, well that’s embarrassing,” Black Hair chuckled awkwardly, stepping out of the pile of bodies surrounding him.

Vicky was staring at him, mouth agape in shock. The boy looked from the pile of in-pain teens around him, then back up at them. He smirked when he saw Vicky’s expression simply stating, “You’ll catch flies.”

Vicky’s mouth snapped shut with a click, forcing Amy to cover her own to stop a chuckle from escaping.

“I- How did you,” Vicky began, stuttering as she tried to gain back her senses. The boys head cocked to the side, like a confused puppy, the emotion mirrored on his face.

“How did I…become such a dude magnet?” He asked, then shrugged, “No idea, but my sister says I have ‘It,’ whatever that means.” He walked toward the girls, stopping in front of them, “Do you mind? I’d rather not be here when they get back up.”

Amy stepped aside, mouth still covered by her hand. Vicky jumped out of the way like the boy was a livewire and she was trying not to get shocked.

The boy walked past them, then turned to look over his shoulder and pointing finger guns at them, “Ya’ll have a fin-tastic day!” Amy let out a puff of air through her hand, holding her stomach to keep in the laugh. The boy beamed at her, winked, then walked casually down the street again, whistling as though he hadn’t just taken down three larger teens in a back alley.

Victoria just stood there, dumbstruck by the interaction. Amy… she couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter, clutching her sides and trying to stay up-right.

Vicky looked at Amy, confused, then amused, “Didn’t know you liked puns so much, Ames.”

“I- pfffff ahahahaha! Neither did I,” she managed, wiping the tears from her eyes as Vicky lead her away from the pile of injured Empire initiates, chuckling at her sister’s mirth.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire – 31 December 2010

Danny was having a great time! He made a friend at the arcade, ate some greasy food that he thought would definitely clog arteries for any normal person, and took some guys down who would have definitely hurt someone else if he hadn’t done so. He was over the moon (HA)!

He had left the two nice girls behind, the blonde dumfounded and the brunette giggling. ‘I call that a successful day!’

Danny spent the next few hours sitting by the beach, eyes closed and the sounds of the waves crashing around him. He spread his senses further, listening to the sounds of the Universe beyond the stratosphere, hearing the crackle of heavenly bodies surge in their dance through the cosmos. A star burst into life many lightyears away, becoming something new, something wonderful.

Danny smiled, then his eyebrows creased, listening intently to the space a little closer to him. A humming, low and melodic, echoed in the space. Danny focused closer on the sound, trying to decern its origin, when a crash behind him deafened his ears.

He quickly covered them, his eardrums definitely burst as he felt a warm liquid leak out of them. The ringing was unbearable, rattling his brain, but Danny opened his eyes, squinting behind him.

A fire had broken out at one of the shops, people running for cover. Danny hopped up, racing to the area as his ears began to heal themselves. Everything was muffled, and Danny slid to a stop while looking around, trying to find the source of the explosion; a business was on fire.

It seemed a few things were happening at once:

A man wearing denim blue jeans and no shirt stood in the middle of the street, a metal wolf mask secured to his face with a strap. Danny could make out some tattoos on his arms but wasn’t really interested when the man was also covered in sharp hooks and metal, posturing against two heroes that Taylor had mentioned before.

The first was a boy wearing some really wicked futuristic armor in silver, looking like some medieval knight in shining armor. The joints were fashioned with glowing blue lights, the same color as the swirling balls of emotion currently residing in his hands. If Danny remembered right, his name was Lancelot…or Chivalry…something like that. He was pretty sure that was wrong but couldn’t confirm.

The second was a girl with a heavy cloak that covered a sleek bodysuit underneath. She had metal pads protecting her joints and scary-looking gauntlets adorning her arms. In addition to her metal mask, depicting a scowling woman’s face, all of her skin was covered. In her gauntleted hands was a crossbow, aimed and poised to attack the shirtless man. ‘Shadow Crosser…right?’ Danny’s mind supplied, again, not sure that was correct either.

‘Ug, there are too many hero names to remember,’ Danny whined internally, scanning the area for additional dangers. He spotted a number of goon-looking guys off to the side, cheering and jeering muffled words toward the costumed people. Each carried a different weapon, some guns, some baseball bats; one even had a long length of chain swinging in his hands.

‘… can…can they look any more like cartoon bad guys?’ Danny thought, finishing his survey of the scene. He inched around the costumed fighters, away from the goons, and slipped into the exploded, and definitely burning, building.

Looking around, ears still muffled by the healing eardrums, Danny spotted blood. He could smell it in the room, fire and burning flesh exuding everywhere. Stopping himself from breathing and keeping low, Danny rushed through the space looking for survivors.

He spotted one, a foot sticking out at a wrong angle, a chest shuddering in a cough. Danny slid to their side, the injured man starting with surprise. Danny smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way, as he pointed to the man’s leg, then to the rest of himself, saying loudly, “Are ya injured anywhere else?”

Danny had no way of knowing if the man could hear him or not, but the man certainly was talking fast, making it impossible for Danny to read his lips.

“Dude, I can’t hear ya. Slow down if you wanna talk; I can’t read lips that fast,” Danny sassed, causing the man to look up at him in shock.

“You can’t be in here, get out while you can,” the man said, slowly and deliberately, so Danny could read his lips.

The boy scoffed, repeating his question, “Are ya injured anywhere else?” The man glanced worriedly around, then shook his head. Danny nodded, grabbing the man by the arm and heaving him over his smaller shoulder, making a show of how 'heavy' the man was. “C-Cool beans, Mr. Man. Le-Let's get ya outta here!”

Danny hauled the man toward a side window, free of fire and debris. Danny expanded his chest, then distended it, more show to prove he was breathing. He let out a fake cough, showing his mister-in-distress that he was having a hard time. They reached the window, Danny setting the man down in the cleared space. He took some cloth, wrapped it around his elbow, then struck the glass, causing it to shatter. Clearing the jagged glass from the frame, Danny bent down to the man again, seeing him gesture frantically toward the inner part of the store while attempting to pull himself back into the blaze.

“Dude, what are you doing!?” Danny exclaimed, pulling the injured man back, tears spilling from the man’s eyes as he coughed again, “Where’s the fire, man?”

The man looked incredulously at him, ‘Man, people been givin me that look all day today,’ when he gestured back into the store, talking quickly again.

“Sir, ya have to talk slower,” Danny sighed exasperated, frustration coloring his tone. The man halted, then slowed his speech. Danny caught the words “My son” and “Back room” from the man’s lips, causing Danny to whip his head around, looking toward the blaze that was the back-room’s door. Danny’s core screeched out PROTECT/PROTECT/PROTECT as he heaved the man up from the floor.

The man protested, attempting to pull out of his grip, but Danny wasn’t having it. He hauled the man easily up and out of the window, into the alleyway away from the flames.

“Crawl if ya have ta, but get away from the buildin,” Danny ordered pointing away from the fighting in the street, pulling off his hoodie and throwing it on a closed trash can in the alley, turning away and pulling himself back into the building. The heat was sweltering, but Danny paid it no mind as he made his way toward the blazing back room.

He was beginning to regain hearing, enough to hear a light roar of the flames and the cry of something small. Danny’s core called out, pushing him forward. Stopping in front of the actually-on-fire door of the back office, Danny weighed his options. ‘Ice? No. Phasing? No. Force it is!’

“Whoever's in there, move away from the door,” He shouted, then set himself on the ground in a runners pose. When he was sure he had given enough time for whoever was in there to move, Danny launched himself forward like a linebacker in American Football, diving through the flames and bodying the door. The wood gave way under the force of his hit, crashing to the floor on the other side.

Danny could feel the sting of a burn on the right side of his face and body, which he had just used as a battering ram. He shook off the pain, ‘_Nothing I haven’t handled before_.’ Danny took stock of the room, spotting a young child no older than five curled toward the back of the room, shivering in fear and crying.

Danny stepped in the room, then crouched down, angling his burn away from the small child, “Hey dude! Its sooooo hot in here, I’m melting,” Danny slouched, pretending to melt. Heard a muffled sniffle, then peaked up at the kid, who had stopped shaking.

Danny kept going, fanning himself with his uninjured hand, “I mean, seriously, I’m all about keepin the heat on in winter, but this is ridiculous!” The boy let out a startled laugh, wiping his face with a long-sleeved shirt. “Let’s get out a here, little man, or we’re gonna end up like lobsters!”

The boy cracked a smile, shifting to stand when Danny heard it. It was still muffled, but it sounded like…

He dove forward, grabbing the kid by the waist and causing the boy to let out a yelp in his ear. Danny rolled, moving into a doorway that looked like a pantry and tucking the kid against his chest, his back to the room. Then, a large crash sounded through the space, loud enough for even Danny to hear through his healing ears. Danny felt an impact on his back, but he held firm, holding the kid to his core. PROTECT/PROTECT/PROTECT it screamed, thumping like a heartbeat in his chest.

Danny looked around, seeing the carnage behind him. The shirtless man from outside had crashed through the storefront, utterly destroying the back room along with it. Danny saw twisted and broken metal scattered around the room, assuming correctly that it is what caused the damage to his back. The buzz of twisting metal echoed in Danny's head, heard over the buzzing in his ears. The man began to move, shifting to stand.

Danny moved himself and the child deeper into the supposed pantry to avoid the man. The two went unnoticed due to a blast of blue energy and a crossbow bolt being hit out of the air by the half-naked man, his emotions snarling in rage, an angry metal bee buzzing following his shout. Shirtless Magee rushed forward, arms growing more hooks and metal bits as he went, taking the buzzing with him and leaving Danny and the child alone.

Danny stared at the hole the man had made, unclear what the weird buzzing was, then looked down at the child in his arms. The kid was wide eyed and lost, looking up at Danny’s face with confusion. Danny could tell he was going into shock, so Danny did what Danny did best.

“Finally, some cool air,” Danny exclaimed, fanning himself like a damsel, “Didn’t know fans came human shaped!”

The boy let out a giggle as Danny chuckled, “Come on Little Man, let's light a fire under our butts and skedaddle!”

The kid’s laugh came in muffled through Danny’s ears again, but he was happy the kid was okay. Peeking out of the pantry, Danny slid out the hole in the back of the shop and made a quick escape.

The fighting seemed to have stopped as Danny circled around a few businesses to the street again, looking around for the man he had pulled from the blaze. Danny was throwing back joke after joke, letting the kid at his side laugh after his ordeal while holding his hand. It felt good, helping people again. Vlad liked to call Danny’s Obsession a ‘Hero Complex,’ but it was more than that. It was like eating a full meal after fasting for days, or watching your favorite people lounge around you at peace with the world.

As Danny finally made it streetside, he spotted the man from the store, grabbing at some paramedics as he cried, begging for something. Danny smiled, glad the man was alright, then turned to the child at his side, “That’s your dad, yeah?” The boy nodded, looking between Danny and his injured father.

“Go on then, he needs ya,” Danny pushed the boy lightly in the back, letting go of his hand and prompting the kid to run. Danny saw the kid collide with his father’s gurney; he was still unable to hear properly, but he saw the relief flood the air as they hugged each other. His core purred in satisfaction as he walked away, limping toward the alley where he had left his hoodie, hoping that it was still there, undamaged.

Let it be known that Dean did not like patrolling with Sophia. She was abrasive, caustic, and definitely did not like the ‘PR’ patrols. Dean understood that: his persona as Gallant, everyone’s Knight in Shining Armor, could be grating at times, but even Missy understood the need for good press, and she was 12!

Sophia, AKA Shadow Stalker, did not give two shits about what anyone thought about her, including her teammates. She had tried to give Gallant the slip no less than five times since lunch, and Dean was on his last nerve.

Then, as if to make matters worse, they came across fucking Hookwolf in broad daylight with some goons from Empire Eighty-Eight as if they had nothing better to do then mess with a black business owner. To the owner’s credit, he was extremely brave, if not stupid for going up against a known Cape and his posse who had a penitent for killing people for less, especially minorities.

Before Gallant could do so much as call for back-up, Shadow Stalker surged forward to attack. Cursing his luck, Gallant called in, “Console, this is Gallant. Currently engaging Hookwolf with Shadow Stalker. Requesting immediate backup.”

“Disengage, Gallant,” Kid Win’s voice echoed over comms, “Wait for backup.”

“Can’t, Shadow Stalker is already engaged. I can’t leave her in there alone. Requesting backup quickly.” As he finished his call in, a loud explosion echoed through the area, emanating in the business that Hookwolf had been accosting. The flames licked the air as the building was immediately consumed by the blaze. “… And send the Fire Department right after. Hookwolf just set fire to a business. Unknown injuries, but I don’t see the owner anywhere.”

There was silence, and Gallant could almost hear the groan from his teammate on the other side.

“Copy, engage as required, but get out of dodge as soon as possible and wait for backup,” Kid Win called out, and Gallant moved up toward Shadow Stalker who had already fired the first shot.

‘God damn it,’ Gallant groused, focusing in on the battle happening right in front of him. He grabbed forward, pulling Shadow Stalker back by the cloak as one of Hookwolf’s metal hooks sliced through the air, right where her face had been.

The grouchy teen shrugged the other boy off, irritation and anger at him prevalent, “Don’t do that again, Wonder Boy.” Gallant shrugged it off, blue lights flashing in his hands, blasts of calm ready to fire. Shadow Stalker raised her crossbow, poised to fire once a weak point presented itself.

“I wouldn’t have to if you would wait for back-up, Stalker,” he supplied, then focused when Hookwolf snarled, charging the Wards in front of him.

Each dove in different directions, Gallant to the left and Shadow Stalker to the right. Gallant fired off a calming blast toward Hookwolf’s head, hitting the blond man square in the face. The boy heard the twang of an arrow being let loose and spotted a tranquilizer bolt sticking out of Hookwolf’s forearm.

The attack was flawless, although maybe they should have tried de-escalation first. ‘Ha, de-escalation with Hookwolf, that’s funny,’ Gallant thought as Hookwolf just seemed to shrug off both attacks, charging at Shadow Stalker with hooks and blades whirling. Gallant aimed for the elder man’s knee joints, intent on setting the man off balance to enable Shadow Stalker to move.

Hookwolf stumbled slightly but kept moving forward as the shadowy Ward turned into mist, ghosted to the side, then reconstituted, firing another volley of arrows at her quarry. Gallant kept up his own attacks to keep Hookwolf distracted and disoriented, switching up the emotions used in his attacks.

Gallant himself was able to use different emotions as projectiles, blasting his enemy with calm, then fear, then exasperation, then happiness. Using the different conflicting feelings could cause quite a lot of confusion in a person, and Hookwolf wasn’t much different. Gallant watched the hooked man stumble, another tranquilizer bolt piercing the raging man’s leg.

It was going well, and Gallant was confident that the two of them would be able to stall the villain until back-up arrived. Hookwolf was on his back leg, trying to find an opening to knock one of the Ward’s out. Then, a flash of white and gold crashed into the scene, striking Hookwolf directly in the sternum, sending him crashing into the on-fire storefront.

Both Gallant and Shadow Stalker paused, dumbfounded, as the form of Victoria Dalton in a white blouse and white skirt flowed around her, her aura flashing dangerously. Shadow Stalker growled angrily as she clenched her fists around her crossbow, looking like she wanted to shoot the blonde girl now more then Hookwolf himself.

“Glory Girl,” Gallant called out, getting an immediate reaction from Vicky, who flew closer to his side, flashing him her perfect smile.

“Hey Gallant, fancy seeing you here,” she winked, and Gallant could hear some of the onlookers swooning.

“Glory Girl, your aura,” he said simply, his eyes not leaving the hole where Hookwolf had disappeared in. Vicky pouted, which was cute but now was not the time. The girl had an emotion influencing aura, and it was distracting. Better she points it toward the enemy then her allies…Although the ‘awe’ aura she was exuding right now wasn’t as helpful as it could be.

“Get over yourself, Princess. You’re in the way,” Shadow Stalker said lowly to the other girl, her crossbow aimed at the hole as well, ready to fire. Glory Girl bristled, sending a flash of fear through her aura toward the Shadow Stalker, causing the crossbow user to stumble. Stalker shook herself, then shot a murderous glare at the blonde, who had crossed her arms and was sending an impressive glare right back.

“Can we please not-” but Gallant was interrupted by a roar of rage from the Hookwolf hole, and the man charged, blades and hooks scraping against everything like the world’s freakiest chainsaw. “Fuck.” Gallant gulped, then tackled Vicky out of the way, Shadow Stalker diving in the opposite direction. Vicky let out an “Eep!” of surprise, letting Gallant force her out of the way of the chainsaw man of death.

Shadow Stalker let out a frustrated shout, “Get your fucking bimbo out of here, Gallant! You’re in my way!”

“I-” Gallant began, when the sound of a motorcycle roared down the main drag of the boardwalk. The boy heard a shot, and Hookwolf stumbled, his head jerking back with an impact. The three junior heroes looked around, spotting the form of Miss Militia with a sniper rifle unloading shots into the metal masked man. Bam Bam Bam. Shot after shot hit their marks, forcing Hookwolf back and away from the Wards and Glory Girl.

Miss Militia moved forward, rifle in hand, each step another shot. Hookwolf was driven back, his goons all sprinting in different directions. After a few more shots, Hookwolf took off as well, barreling through the crowd of very stupid civilians that had gathered to watch the show.

‘Oh, that’s definitely going to need a medic,’ Dean moved toward the bulldozed citizens, ready to help with the injured, when an arm held onto his shoulder. He looked around, only to see Miss Militia shaking her head.

“Leave that to the paramedics. We need to help with the fire until the fire department arrives, to prevent any more damage.”

Gallant nodded, sending out his aura to look for survivors. He found no one inside, but did find a man crawling his way through an alley nearby, his leg bent at the wrong angle and slight burns licking his skin.

“Sir, are you alright? Where are you injured,” Gallant kneeled next to the man, only to realize that he was the store owner that Hookwolf and his goons had been accosting.

“I’m fine, but my son! Please, he was in the back room! And the kid! Shit, they’re dead, aren’t they?” The man pleaded, clutching at Gallant’s armor while beginning to cry in hysterics.

Gallant attempted to sooth the injured man, using his powers to project calm. The man relaxed minutely, however his concern for his child and the other kid from inside the building was bitter on the Ward’s tongue. Supporting the injured man out of the alley, Gallant moved him to a gurney by the paramedics, then moved closer to the building to see if he had missed the faint emotions of an unconscious living person.

They searched, and Gallant could hear the store owner becoming more hysteric and uncooperative with the medical staff, refusing to be transported without his child. A cold feeling of dread splashed over Gallant as they found nothing. ‘Crap…if we had…if we had handled it differently…’

He felt a surge of joy, of contentment from in the crowd, so strong that it almost knocked him down. Gallant whipped his head around to search for the source, when he spotted a young boy, disheveled clothes covered in soot but otherwise uninjured, sprint from the throng of people and crash into the store owner’s gurney, crying for his father. The man burst into tears, grabbing at his boy and shouting ‘thank you’ s to the air, to whoever was listening.

Miss Militia and Glory Girl heaved relived sighs, but Gallant was distracted. That surge of positive emotions was so strong, a purring in the air that seemed to radiate outward. But before he was able to pinpoint the feeling, it dissipated, leaving behind a sweet scent and a warmth that filled everyone around. It reminded Dean of when his mom would make him hot chocolate on a cold winter day; a chill accompanied by warm satisfaction.

“Is something wrong, Gallant?” Miss Militia was next to him. ‘When did she get there?’ Gallant shook his head, still looking into the crowd. The elder heroine looked around with him, scanning the crowd with a critical eye, then turned back, “Where is Shadow Stalker?”

Gallant stalled, snapping his head back to look for his teammate. Who was nowhere to be seen.

“…I don’t know…”

Miss Militia sighed, shaking her head, “Head back to base. Make sure to get checked out by medical. I’ll send Shadow Stalker back once I find her…and talk to Glory Girl about collateral damage…again…”

Dean inwardly groaned, but nodded outwardly to the elder hero, looking back at the crowd as the cheered. He gave a wave to them, then said his goodbyes to Vicky and headed back to base.

‘I am not looking forward to the debriefing after this.’ The boy sighed, cataloging everything that went right and wrong as he went. If he had to do a report on this, he’d try to make it as easy as possible and then go comfort his girlfriend, who would definitely be upset at the dressing down she was about to receive from Miss Militia.

Sophia was pissed, but that wasn’t unusual.

She had been put on ‘PR Patrol’ with White Knight himself and he was veeery hard to give the slip. Anytime she tired, he would be there with his arms folded looking at her like she was a misbehaving child. It grated on Sophia’s every nerve.

‘That self-rightous son of a-’ Sophia was at her last thread of patience, when she noticed Hookwolf, the bastard, fucking with a business owner who was fighting back, even if it was only with words. The owner was standing up for himself and his business, which was great in Sophia’s book. So, she charged in, ready for action and wanting to reward the owner’s behavior in sticking up for himself. By not acting like prey.

The fight could have gone better. If the babysitters at the Protectorate would just let her use her real bolts, she could have taken care of that piece of crap, easy. As it was, tranquilizer darts were not doing it for her. The fight went on for way to long, so much so that Prissy Princess and Militia Mommy showed up. Sophia as Shadow Stalker could have taken care of this alone if she could go all out, but instead they let the bastard run with his tail between his legs, whimpering like the racist piss baby he was.

‘I will not be staying for cleanup. Fuck that,’ Sophia slipped down an alleyway quickly as things were wrapping up, the crowd and other 'heroes' distracted by some crying kid. Sophia moved through the shadows like they were her home, comfortable and…comfortable. As she slipped down another alley, she spotted a black-haired boy, around 15 or 16, slumped over and leaning with their head against the alley wall.

‘Great…I’m not dealing with this shit,’ Sophia was about to dissipated into shadows to mist past the civilian, when she noticed the boy’s back.

His back was, for lack of a better word, mincemeat. It was shredded into blood and flesh, gouges torn from the surface with what looked like metal embedded deep. The boy slid down the wall, breathing heavily with his eyes closed like he was trying to not be sick. In his arms, he was clutching some black cloth in his hands. Looking closer, Sophia noticed burn holes in his clothing and blistered skin on his arms and face. The fabric on his right shoulder had burned through, leaving at least a second, nearly third degree burn branded on the skin.

Sophia hesitated, then her boots clicked on the ground as she took a step closer to the boy. His eyes shot open, darting in her direction. The crystal blue hue was colored with pain, but when he saw her, the look disappeared. He moved, putting his back against the wall and aiming his injured shoulder away from her. His eyes never left her form, focusing on her masked face, then on the crossbow at her hip.

There was silence where neither moved, watching each other. Then, the boy smirked a cocky grin etched into his features and an eyebrow raised.

“Sup?”

“…Sup? That’s what you’re going with? Sup?” Sophia let the disbelief echo from under her mask, tilting her head at the boy.

“…Do…do ya want me to do a jig? Cause I’m a bit tapped out right now,” boy said dryly as he shook his head, exasperation and exhaustion in his voice.

“You need a doctor,” Sophia jabbed her thumb back toward the entry to the alley, “Paramedics are that way.”

The black-haired boy nodded but made no move to get up. Sophia didn’t move either, still staring at the boy.

“…What? See somethin ya like?” The boy sassed, and Sophia immediately stiffened, going on the defensive, “Look, I’m all ‘bout the tall, dark, and sexy type, but I got a girlfriend, thanks.”

That made Sophia pause, cocking her head at the boy. Internally, and she would never admit it, she preened at the compliment. Sophia would never normally give two shits what a boy thought about her, but…

“What happened to you, anyway?”

The boy let out a laugh, “Got into a fight with a meatgrinder.”

“No shit,” Sophia let out her own humorless laugh, looking toward the red streak on the wall from where the boy had slid down, not noticing his affronted expression or whispered “language.”

The boy shrugged, no longer looking at the heroine in front of him but facing the sky, a strip of blue in the alleyway, “Yeah, then got put on a grill and now I’m extra crispy. No big.” The boy’s nonchalance was fucking with Sophia’s head.

“Are you actually going to the hospital with that?” She asked, sure that the answer was…

“Naw, it’s just a flesh wound. I’ll walk it off.”

“I think I saw metal in there.”

“Guess I got a cool back piercin!” The boy said brightly, hiding his pained expression by shooting a grin her way.

Sophia shrugged, moving to walk past the boy, but instead stopping right in front of him, causing him to angle his neck to look up at her.

‘…he’s not too bad…’ the heroine looked the boy up and down, sizing him up. Even slumped over in a dark alley, the boy seemed to shine. He had pale skin, maybe from the blood loss (‘that’s concerning’), that made the freckles on his face seem to dance on his skin. His hair was a nice contrast, a dark midnight color that made his icy blue eyes pop. His body was covered from head to toe, a soot covered white and red shirt, with a black long sleeve underneath, and denim jeans covering his legs. Sophia could tell easily that he had a predator’s body underneath his clothing, a mixture of lithe and well-used muscle. She could see the scars on his hands and face under the soot from the fire. He was a hidden predator, covered in those singed clothes, but a predator nonetheless. He shouldn’t have to hide a body like that. Sophia felt a quiet buzz in her head as she appreciated what she saw.

The boy kept his eyes on her mask, not deviating from her face. His steely stare was another positive, and Sophia wanted to…she wondered if he was actually good in a fight. ‘Maybe another time, if he lives,’ Sophia licked her lips under her mask.

“You need help?” She asked after the long silence, expectant.

“Naw, I’m good. Thanks for askin’ though,” the boy shrugged, his Midwestern twang not something Sophia had previously realized she liked.

She shrugged, “Your loss. Try not to die.” And she turned away, walking away from the injured boy, excitedly expecting to see him again, if the moron didn’t die from blood loss.

Danny stared at the masked girl as she walked away, feeling gross. She had not been subtle in her observations, oblivious that her emotions were very much being broadcasted to the boy. Her emotions were sticky, a buzzing mixture of irritation, curiosity, and…

‘Ew…hated that. It’s like when Paulina made that weird shrine of my Phantom form in Amity. But for me this time. Gross.’ Danny shivered, then stood, pealing his back from the alley wall. He looked down at his recovered hoodie and smiled, glad to have the thing back. He rolled his injured shoulder, then turned intangible, letting the metal in his back fall to the ground. He heard multiple clangs of the material on the concrete floor, wincing at the sound. Danny looked down, finding multiple pieces of curved metal surrounding him.

“Hey, looks like I became a pincushion for a minute,” he said distantly, picking up the metal pieces and sliding them, intangibly, into his body. ‘Maybe I can use em for somethin.’

Danny could feel his skin stitching itself together as he stretched his arms up, popping his back. He looked down at the puddle of red where he had been and groaned.

“Now I gotta clean this up. Dag nabit.”

Danny spent about 30 minutes cleaning up his mess, ensuring that anything he left behind would be unusable to anyone with a cloning fetish (‘I’M TALKIN TO YOU VLAD!’). Once finished, Danny decided that he had had enough adventure for one day and started walking back to the Hebert house. The boy was content and satisfied with the day’s events, even if he had messed up his favorite (and only) shirt in the process.

‘I wonder if Taylor’s dad has any one’s he wants to throw away that I can use?’ Danny mused, arms crossed behind his head as he hummed on his way.

When he returned home, Danny found Taylor fast asleep on the couch, the third part of 'Señiora Mariposa' playing on the screen. Danny chuckled, pulled Taylor’s blanket up to her shoulders, slipped his hoodie on over his ruined shirts, then settled in at the base of the couch. He watched the Telenovela play, chuckling at the antics of the lead characters as their drama unfolded.