And with this, my first batch of commissions is thus complete! OvO
@kiinotasha This ones for yoU! Temporal in all his lonely glory~ god I missed drawing for various DP au’s ,and Danny Phantom in general tbh
in fact I got a couple of other pieces of Phan art in the works, including someone's DP OC which just caught my eye and ran off with it, hello Madame Chérie
It had been a long time since the last truly quiet night in Amity Park, the last night when the skies were empty of anything but clouds and no alarms, sirens, or ectoplasmic zings filled the air, the last night when all its residents were able to sleep deeply, without it being a ghostly plot. They took advantage of it and enjoyed it immensely.
But when they woke up, they had to wonder if they shouldn’t have been at least a little suspicious.
.
Danny had a habit of looking up when he went outside. This was mostly because of ghost attacks, but also because people looking to mess with the ‘local crackpots’ (or just Danny) used to rig pranks to the door (which had, incidentally, fueled Jack’s tendency to answer the door with a ectogun in hand and blame random things on ghosts).
This meant that he saw the… thing almost immediately.
He took several steps back. “What is that?”
“A ghost?” called Jack from the kitchen.
“Uh,” said Danny, eyes still fixed on the sky. “No.” No, he was fairly certain what he was looking at wasn’t a ghost. Yes, it was out of range of his ghost sense, but he was still, somehow, absolutely sure it was not a ghost. Or a half ghost, for that matter, although that thought was ridiculous on the surface of it.
No. It wasn’t a ghost.
Still.
“You guys had better come see this.”
.
The thing in the sky over Amity Park was huge. So big it was hard to really comprehend as a thing that was actually there. It didn’t look real, and not in the way that ghosts sometimes didn’t look real, lacking substance and texture, but more because of the way its edges were sharp but faded from distance, from the way it hung suspended in the air, from its detailing.
As for its shape… It was roughly humanoid, with giant feathered white wings alternately wrapped around itself and spread wide. From Danny’s perspective, he could count at least six, but he thought there might be more. The rest of its body was covered with a kind of armor that included a featureless mask. Something like horns spiraled from its helm.
It was upside down. Head pointed at Amity Park.
Distantly, Danny could hear people shouting about the apocalypse, shouting about angels and demons and the end of things, shouting about ghosts and about how this was just too much.
Danny rather agreed with that last one. This was too much.
“--the figure in the sky appeared sometime last night, between the hours of two and four AM,” said the TV. “No one is sure how it arrived, and we have yet to receive any reports of a person seeing it arrive. Thus far, it hasn’t made any aggressive moves or attempts to communicate.”
He walked back to the couch and sat down. Jack and Maddie were in the kitchen arguing about whether or not and how to shoot the thing. Apparently, something the size of a mountain gave even them pause.
The ticker at the bottom of the TV screen read out the names of schools that had canceled classes. He watched the band go across rather dispiritedly.
Danny had done a lot of things for this town. Vortex, Undergrowth, Nocturne, and Pariah Dark had all been really big, but they’d been, at most, skyscraper big.
This was a lot bigger, and it wasn’t even a ghost.
Really, it was too much.
Jazz sat down next to him. “I was worried you’d sneak out.”
“Still might,” mumbled Danny. “Just. You know. To go up there and see what it wants.”
“You think it wants something?”
“It’s got to, right?”
“Hm,” said Jazz. “I suppose. It could also just… be there. Passing through.”
Danny gave her a look. “I’m not going to be picking a fight with something that could level the whole town just by falling. It could probably crush all of downtown with its foot.” He slouched down. “Maybe I should just leave it alone.”
“Sadly,” said Jazz, “if you don’t do something, someone else will.” She tilted her head at the kitchen significantly. “You know what they’re like, and you know what the GIW are like. Plus, they have those hovercraft things. I’m not saying you have to do anything. I’d actually like it if you didn’t, but…”
But then he’d have to live with the results. Overall, Danny was action-oriented. He preferred to do something rather than to not do something.
“I guess there’s Vlad, too,” said Danny. “Even as a human, he’s got those helicopters.”
“He’d probably work with you on this,” said Jazz.
“Yeah, and then he’d ditch me as soon as it got too hard for him. That’s what he always does.” He stood up. “Cover for me?”
“Always.”
.
As Danny got closer, the thing in the sky got bigger and bigger. Which was, of course, how perspective worked, but Danny had been hoping it had been closer than it looked and, thus, smaller. But it was, in fact, farther away than it looked.
Danny thought this was unfair.
With his eyes fixed on it as his destination, he also saw how still it was. It didn’t move or breathe. The wind didn’t ruffle its feathers. It added to the air of unreality.
Speaking of the air, it was also… humming. No, that was the wrong word for it, but it certainly had some similarities to sound, whatever it was. An energy that wasn’t physical, but also wasn’t emotion or ectoplasm or anything like that.
He stopped.
He was probably within shouting distance now, right? Assuming this could even hear him. His voice might be too quiet to make its eardrums vibrate, assuming it had eardrums.
“HELLO,” he called, the faintest touch of his ghostly wail leaking in. He paused, waiting to see if there was a response.
There wasn’t. At least, there wasn’t a physical, visible response. Whatever feeling was in the air intensified. Danny felt uncomfortably aware of his own skin. Between his back started to itch to the point where he looked around to see if there was anyone behind him.
There wasn’t.
He turned back.
“WE WERE WONDERING WHAT YOU WANTED.” He paused again, more from uncertainty than anything else. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
This time, there was movement. Movement that looked agonizingly slow, but only by virtue of how big the thing was. Two of its wings unfurled, freeing a hand that pointed down.
At the city?
Danny looked down, trying to determine if it meant the city in general, or if it was pointing at some specific building or–
But then the sensation spilling over his body became too much to ignore, and he curled in on himself, his gloves the only things keeping him from digging furrows into his back. What was this, some kind of supernatural radiation?
Oh, gosh, this was some kind of supernatural radiation. He should probably leave, like, right now.
He should be flying away right now.
Why wasn’t he flying away?
He looked up.
The other thing the hand could possibly be pointing at was him.
His eyes rolled back in his head.
.
Phantom’s approach was, of course, filmed and broadcasted. Vlad watched. No need to put himself at risk when the boy was perfectly willing to do it for him.
He watched the tiny, blurry picture of Phantom come to a stop, then seem to shout at the angel-like figure. He watched as Phantom curled into a tiny ball, then went limp.
He watched as Phantom fell.
“Fudge buckets.” A fall from that height would be unpleasant even if Daniel managed to keep hold of his ghost half.
If he didn’t…
Vlad was phasing through his ceiling before the wine glass he’d been holding hit the floor.
.
The eyes of Amity Park were on Phantom as he fell. Perhaps that’s why no one immediately noticed the giant creature that had been hanging over their heads all day simply vanishing.
But perhaps the true reason was something else, something more related to the being’s nature, whatever it had been.
It was impossible to tell.
.
Vlad caught Daniel. It was a near thing, and Vlad wasn’t experienced with catching people falling from the sky at speed, but he did do it, and Daniel’s back didn’t break or anything.
He would have to count this incident as something to lord over Daniel in the future.
In the meantime, Daniel was spasming, as if he was having a seizure. It was remarkably inconvenient, and also troubling, because Vlad hadn’t thought that half ghosts could have seizures while transformed.
He adjusted his grip on Daniel and noticed–
Pausing mid-air, he turned Daniel over. There, on Daniel’s back, small but unmistakable, were six snow-white wings.
51 notes Meggy. 51!! Why. Why you do this to me, I thought we were friends. I thought we understood that post was never to be talked about again. My most popular thing ever is a shit post. It finally died and you bring it back. why.
a handful of regret, a little solace, and a pinch of fluff
i know it’s super late but thanks so much for being patient! the end bit took me like six tries to get it to stick how i wanted
i will also be posting this on ao3 at some point fyi
Winter had officially rolled in that morning. Amity Park had all but shut down with the snow - after-school activities had been canceled; the highways had turned to skating rinks in the mid-morning sleet; even retailers had begun to close their doors for the afternoon to wait out the worst of the storm. Before five o'clock, when the sun would have set, the streets were vacant. Everyone, it seemed, had holed up at home.
Everyone except Danny. Nevermind the snow - he couldn't stand to spend another minute at the house. His mother's accusing voice still cut through his mind: you'll never listen to reason, will you? Look at the facts, Jack! It's simply not possible! None of it had been directed at Danny, but he resented both of his parents nonetheless. December, to him, was the season of hey-Tuck-can-I-stay-the-weekend and please-Sam-I'll-do-anything-to-be-out-of-the-house and if-I-have-to-keep-putting-up-with-this-I'll-die. When he wasn't home, at least he could hear himself think!
It wasn't fair. He hated how easily any conversation could slide into animosity, he hated the gnawing misery that crept up steadily from November onwards (and that was if he was lucky - one year the radio stations had all conspired to deliver tell-tale sleigh bells as early as October the twenty-first), and he hated how no one listened whenever he said he disliked the holidays. It was always oh, but you've got to celebrate something, don't you? or how can you be so sour at such a lovely time of year? or the affronted but surely everyone loves Christmas! as if he'd stricken the event from the calendar simply by wishing it ill.
If only.
So, despite the snow and despite the cold, he'd made his way out to the Nasty Burger in the hope it would still have been open, and in the hope that Sam and Tucker might still be there. It wasn't; they weren't; and after a moment of overwhelming frustration and despair he'd turned tail and run. In that moment, he didn't care where he ended up, or how far away it was - all that mattered was that he left his stupid house and his stupid parents and their stupid fight behind. Forget the snow, the fire in his belly grumbled, forget the cold. Just run.
By the time he'd run out of breath, he'd made it as far as the bus station out of town. He had a few bucks on him, but only one line was still running due to the snow. He didn't care; he took it, ignoring the rough night out there, isn't it? from the driver as he boarded, and collapsed into one of the seats in the back. He wondered how far he'd really have to go before he could escape the last echoes of his mother's voice. Even then, as the bus trundled sluggishly through the snow, he could still hear her.
It's not possible, Jack! Such a feat defies science! Jack, you can't be that foolish!
How many years of it did they expect him to take?
By the time the bus dropped him off, he was numb. The doors creaked open, he shuffled out, and the cold bit him anew. It was dark out now - how far had he gone, he wondered. The streets certainly looked the same. Had he ended up a town over? Three towns? Ten? Distance meant nothing; the bus doors closed behind him, and it lumbered off.
He was on his own.
The snow appeared to have let up, although it hadn't quit entirely. It fell not with icy malice but was fat-flaked and lazy, and the scene before him was silent save for a street-plow that rumbled from the parking lot down the road.
Isn't this what you wanted? to hear yourself think?
His mind began to tick again, and the lonesomeness finally struck him. He really was on his own, without Sam or Tucker or even Jazz at his side, and the silence of the town seemed to press in on him. Go on, something in him whispered, you wanted to be alone, didn't you? How long do you think before they'll even notice you're gone? Two or three days, maybe? Or maybe they'll only think twice on the twenty-sixth, after they've wrapped up?
He couldn't bear to think that. Tears stung in the corners of his eyes, refusing to be dismissed by his palm or the back of his sleeve, and the tightness of pent-up anger gave way in an instant to a cold hard lump of dread. He really was alone.
Now what?
He turned to the road again. The bus had dropped him off near the edge of town, it seemed - how far had he really gotten from Amity Park? Where had he ended up? He didn't remember which line he'd taken, just that it had been the only one available to him, and he cursed himself out for it. How stupid are you? Out of all the days you could have picked to run off, you decided that the best time to do that was in the middle of the snow? Great going, idiot!
He held his mobile in one hand. It didn't like the cold; it had been at 66% earlier that afternoon, but had steadily dripped down to 27% within the span of an hour or two, and it skipped to 16% even as he stared down at it. You know no one's going to be able to come get you, right? said the sharp voice of guilt. You think even the Fenton RV could handle the roads like this? and that's assuming Mom and Dad quit arguing long enough to even answer if you call home. . .
He had to call anyway. He knew that much, even as his vision blurred around the edges and tears froze in the corners of his eyes. He slipped behind a line of shrubs to escape the wind, hit Home, and tried to collect himself as he waited for anyone to pick up.
Come on, please, I'm so sorry. . .
"Hello - ?"
"Mom? I'm so sorry please don't be mad I need you to - Mom?"
The mobile had died in his hand, but for a desperate moment he failed to process. "Mom. . .?"
Something in him cracked, and he stared down at the device. The screen was dark, and failed to respond to his touch, but it felt as if he'd been purposefully abandoned. Look what you've done. This is your fault. What are you gonna do now?
He didn't have an answer for that one. Don't stay out too late, kiddo, you'll freeze out there! He remembered his father saying that once, when he'd said he and Tucker were going to go out. That had been last year, in January after the fights were over and there was enough snow to go sledding. He remembered, too, that he'd had a second jacket then.
Would he really freeze?
He shoved the mobile back into his pocket. It hadn't been quite so cold earlier - how long had he already been out? There had been daylight for a while. An hour, maybe? That sounded about right. It always got dark early in December. Still, he'd have to find someplace to hole up. Maybe this town's Nasty Burger, or MacMeaty's - they'd still be open, probably, and they might even have a phone he could borrow.
That, and then he'd find out how far he'd gotten himself from home.
With a basic objective in mind, he set off again. So long as he was moving, the cold didn't seem so bad. The storm had relented, at least, and it didn't look to have snowed as badly as it had in Amity Park - but, out of familiar territory, he was lost. With only one direction to go, he kept along the side of the road in the hopes it would lead him into town.
The road led him through a stretch of trees, all heavy with snow and ice and bowing downwards, and he knew the rest of the town couldn't be too far ahead. The hazy yellow of the streetlights was cast into the sky somewhere to his left, and as soon as he spotted the path off the main road he took it. He hardly registered anything else until the pavement gave way to uneven dirt under the snow, and he paused; not city streets but a cemetery sprawled out before him, but he only hesitated for a second before treading onwards, ignoring his own superstitions. Graveyard, went his mind blankly in an effort to get the word to stick to something. It didn't.
The breeze shifted suddenly, and Danny stopped. It wasn't that the snow was going to pick up again - it appeared to have quit for the moment - but something was so awfully and so suddenly wrong that, for one perplexing instant, he was pulled out of coherent thought altogether.
Graveyard finally stuck.
Danny turned about himself. The only tracks in the snow were his, and without the snowfall everything around him was perfectly still. Why, then, could he so clearly feel the eyes upon him? Where were they coming from? Without meaning to, he cast his gaze downwards - have you stepped on someone? - but could discern nothing from the blanket of white beneath him. It was bad luck, he'd been told once, to tread on a body at rest. Had he just done that? He stepped back as if he had, although he couldn't really tell for sure. "Sorry," he mumbled, as if it was adequate, and felt stupid. Look at you by yourself in the dark, apologizing to someone who's already dead, who you probably didn't even step on anyhow. What, like they're going to care?
Ghosts, according to Danny, weren't real. That was a fact in his mind. Both of his parents had been ghosthunters for their entire careers, as far as he was aware, and neither one of them had actually seen one. If the anomalies did exist, surely one would have been caught by now?
What manifested before him, however, looked very much like how he imagined a ghost to look. It appeared, suddenly but without a sound, on one of the headstones still visible under the snow. Its body was cast predominantly in shadow except for two bright green eyes which were most definitely affixed on him. It was vaguely human-shaped, although Danny had to squint a little to see it; it was peering out at him from behind the stone, or at least that's what he thought it looked like it was doing, and when he stared it flinched back.
Ghost, went Danny's mind, and the sentiment stuck the first time. It couldn't have been real, and yet it was exactly like every explanation his parents had ever given him about one. Great. What does it want? Do you really have to deal with this too now?
The spirit - if that was what it really was - stared back in equal silence. Danny hadn't fled; emboldened somewhat, it crept upwards to peer over the top of the tombstone rather than from around the side. Its body remained mostly in shadow, and only when it moved were the white wisps of its fingers and hair visible against the backdrop of snow. It grasped the corner of the stone, as if looking over a tall countertop, and was still again. After a moment of deliberation, it finally spoke: (Lost?)
Danny hesitated. What could he reasonably expect to tell it - that he'd come out here by himself to get away from his parents and that he couldn't get back home? Nevermind, for the moment, that this was a genuine ghost. "What?"
(You didn't run) said the ghost, almost optimistically, eyes still on Danny. (How come?)
Danny stiffened. "Hey, wait a sec, what's it to you, anyway? Are you even real?"
The shadow slumped, and the eyes fell. (Yeah)
A small part of Danny was surprised at how quickly he'd accepted than answer - then again, he'd been told since infancy that the anomalies were real, and had only really rejected it out of spite for his parents - but that led to the pricklier questions. If ghosts were real then they were also dangerous (he'd been told that, too, countless times) and he was acutely aware that he was on his own. "What do you want? Don't you have anyplace to go terrorize, or is this it?"
The spirit met his gaze again. (Terrorize? Why would I - ?)
"Because that's what ghosts do," said Danny, "Probably. Look, no offense, or maybe some offense, but I didn't come here for you to show up and bug me."
(Then why did you come here?)
"Hey, that's none of your business," Danny snapped, refusing to acknowledge exactly how ridiculous it was that he was in a graveyard at night having an argument with a real ghost, "Go away."
The apparition's eyes flashed. (Why don't you go away? This is my spot. I was here first)
"Fine. Whatever." Danny jammed his hands an extra inch into his pockets, shoving the encroaching chill away and turning to stomp across to the other side of the graveyard. Stupid ghost.
The ghost, on the other hand, seemed to change its mind. (Wait, I didn't mean it - please come back)
Despite himself - you wanna freeze out here? - Danny turned.
The shadowy spirit wafted up from its place by the headstone and floated closer. In the air, Danny could make out the suggestion of its limbs, and the white fog of its hands and feet, but even when it faced him he couldn't distinguish any features aside from its eyes. (Please stay)
Danny wanted to run. Everything his parents had told him about ghosts was marching through his mind - they're dangerous, kiddo! you don't wanna face off against one by yourself! - and it had finally dawned on him what might happen if he didn't get into town. Despite that, he found he couldn't run. The spirit sounded desperate. Probably because it'll tear you apart as soon as it gets your guard down, snapped the relentless voice of his mother, but he shoved it away. What if it really was desperate? What if it needed his help?
What if it wanted to rip him to shreds instead?
The spirit's eyes dimmed, as if perhaps it was thinking about something, and when it asked its voice was slow and careful. (You're not okay, are you?)
Danny frowned. "How do you know that?"
(You didn't run) said the ghost, (everyone runs)
"Yeah, maybe both my parents are ghosthunters," said Danny, as if that might ward it off if it decided at any point to attack him, "Maybe you'd better leave me alone."
(You think I'm going to haunt you)
"I'm supposed to think you're not? I don't know you - didn't know you - ugh, you know what I meant. You're dead. I'm not. Ghosts haunt people. That's kinda their thing. Why would you not come after me? Why are we even having this conversation? I told you to leave me alone."
The ghost went silent for a moment. It slunk downwards onto the snow, huddling a little tighter against itself as if wrapping its arms around its knees. (I guess I thought maybe since you didn't run you wouldn't be scared of me. I just wanted someone to talk to)
"Don't you have - oh I don't know - ghost buddies or something for that?"
(They moved)
"Moved?"
(On)
Danny bit his tongue. The loneliness struck him again, just as mercilessly as it had before, but this time it wasn't his own. All of a sudden he felt foolish - is he really the only one that's lonely? - and he let all his breath out in a prolonged puff. "You're the only one left here, aren't you?"
The spirit nodded; despite that it only barely held a coherent form, the motion was clear.
"You're lonely."
(Aren't you?)
Danny recoiled as if struck. Of course you are. Lonely, lost, and real stupid. You did this to yourself, remember? He turned, dashing a palm under his eye as if the ghost wouldn't have seen it. "Maybe."
(Maybe?)
"Yeah," Danny snapped, although there was little anger he could muster. "You heard me. Look at you, asking all these questions - who even are you, anyhow?"
(Just a phantom) said the phantom, glancing back at the headstone from which it had appeared, (name's long gone)
"Just a phantom," Danny echoed, making the spike in his chest twist. You still wanna just leave him there by himself? He couldn't do that. He knew he couldn't. Nevermind the cold - he wasn't going to abandon anybody that had no one left, even if it was someone who was already dead. "That's - that's really it, huh?"
(What about you?) the phantom asked, (you're still kicking. You've got a name, don't you?)
"It's Danny."
(Oh, I like that one) said the phantom brightly, sliding upwards a little, (you promise you'll stay?)
"Yeah. I mean - maybe. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but - I'm kind of in huge trouble. With everything. Ugh, I'm so stupid - "
(Tell me about it) the phantom ventured, (I mean, if you want to)
Danny sat with a soft crunch in the snow. Once it started to come out, he found, it suddenly became much easier. "I guess I did it to myself. Maybe I thought I wanted to be on my own, I mean I can't just keep listening to them argue like that, so I left, I thought it'd be easier, maybe it doesn't matter, but now I can't get back and it's so cold and it's my own fault I'm so stupid - "
(I don't think you're stupid)
"Look at me. I'm sitting here, in a graveyard, in the dark, talking to a ghost about my problems, which are my own fault to begin with," said Danny, one sob coming out instead as a sardonic laugh. "Sounds pretty stupid to me."
The phantom hesitated. After a moment it slid over to sit next to him, and its eyes brightened. (I don't think it counts unless you can't fix it)
"What are you talking about?"
(You're still breathing, aren't you?)
Danny felt like he'd struck a nerve somehow. "I didn't mean it like that - "
The phantom's eyes turned upwards. The snow had started up again; even in the past few minutes it had dusted Danny's hoodie with white, and if given another few minutes it might pick back up to the storm that had rendered Amity Park helpless. The phantom stared for a moment, and the snow paused. (Ice core) was the only explanation it offered, and its eyes turned upwards in what Danny could only assume to be a smile.
"You did that," said Danny, who was a second slower to process, "How'd you - ? I didn't know you could do that - "
The phantom nodded slowly. (Usually, it's only for a few seconds at a time. Closer it is to the solstice, though, sometimes I get a little leeway. Longer nights or something like that. I wasn't gonna question it)
"Huh."
The phantom rose abruptly, turning back and offering one wispy hand to Danny. (Can I show you something?)
Danny took the hand and flinched. The sensation was like ice, not physically tangible but piercingly cold, and he was pulled up to his feet as well. "Where are we going?"
The phantom kept Danny's hand. It floated higher, pulling him off the ground with it; he yelped, wide eyes darting back up to the shadow in the air, and his grip tightened. (Don't let go, okay?)
Danny wouldn't dare. "What are you doing - ?"
The phantom was smiling again, but wouldn't answer him. They both ascended over the ice-white treetops, and all of a sudden the town opened up below them through a yellow-white haze. (You said you were lost) said the phantom, (didn't you? Lost and lonely, same as me. I wanted to help)
Danny was silent. His mind had all but ground to a halt - the first time he'd ever seen a ghost, and the ghost had just plucked him up off the ground with no effort whatsoever. I wanted to help, it said. Weren't spirits like that supposed to do the opposite?
The phantom turned back to the town beyond the cemetery. (There's houses over on that side) it said helpfully, pointing with its free hand, (you think one of them's yours?)
"Well, I - " Danny forced his mind back into processing again, once he was very certain he wouldn't fall. He kept the phantom's hand tightly in his own, knowing that was the only thing keeping him up, and finally cast a glance across rooftops and streets below. "No," he said, "They're not. Look, I. . ."
(Oh jeez this is too much, isn't it? I'm sorry)
"No it's not that - I mean, don't get me wrong, this wasn't exactly what I was expecting to be doing tonight, it's kinda out-there, but - "
(I'm so sorry I swear I just wanted to help)
"Hey wait - no don't go down yet - you really can see pretty far from up here, can't you," Danny scanned the streets below, hoping to spot someplace that was still open. The cold was really starting to get to him, especially up in the open air - he couldn't quit shivering, and his fingers and nose had gone all but numb. Even his lips had begun to resist movement, and he had to be careful to articulate when he spoke. "I came in from that way," he spotted the road the bus had taken when he'd been dropped off, and gestured vaguely downwards. "Don't suppose you know how far Amity Park is from here?"
(You're cold)
"Well, yeah," said Danny, "But I gotta get home - "
The phantom's eyes widened, and it shook its head. (Not like that! Oh, man, you're still kicking, you have to stay warm, I forgot I'm so sorry) the phantom descended, taking Danny down too, and they both landed at the side of the cemetery.
Danny shoved both hands back into his pockets, although they wouldn't warm up entirely on their own. At least the wind's not so bad down here, and you know where the town is. You'll have better luck than you will out here, anyhow.
The phantom was unblinking. (That was my fault. I should have remembered. You have to be careful - when you're alive, I mean. Stuff can happen, I wasn't even thinking about it - )
"Hey, don't freak out. I'll be fine. So it's snowing a little. Big deal."
(Yeah but I don't wanna see you freeze out here, not on account of me, anyhow, you know - )
"Wait," said Danny, and asked before he could stop himself, "Wait is that - that's how you - well, you know - isn't it?"
The phantom didn't answer. Its eyes slid pointedly away form Danny's, opting instead to stare through the snow-laden trees. The distant rumble of a street-plow came and went, and the snowfall slowly started up again.
Now you've gone and done it. Should have kept your mouth shut, idiot. "I'm sorry." He let his breath out all at once. "I guess I shouldn't have asked you that. Please don’t be mad."
(You're really far from home, aren't you?)
Danny hesitated, but then nodded. "Yeah. I am. I really screwed up this time. Look, no offense, I get that you wanted to help me out and all, but - I don't think this is something you can just fix, you know?"
(You're having troubles at home) said the phantom, (I think. That was what you said earlier, wasn't it? That’s why you came all the way here)
Danny nodded again. "Yeah. My parents have this stupid fight every year, and I said I wasn't gonna let it get to me this time but it did anyway. So of course like some kind of moron I thought maybe getting away from it all would have been just fine - "
(Well, you're the first moron I've talked to in a long time) said the phantom helpfully, (you can't be that bad)
Danny sighed. "Thanks. I guess."
(Besides, you don't have to be out here all by yourself either. I think we both kind of win, right?)
Danny frowned. "Not sure that's how it works? If I didn't run away then none of this - "
(Then you'd still be having a bad time, right? But just at home. And if you hadn't come out here then I'd still be having a bad time too. Like I said. We both kind of win)
"Well. I mean," Danny gave up. "Sure. Yeah."
(And you'd be sad if I left now, wouldn't you?)
"Yeah."
(Then I'm not going anywhere) said the phantom, and its eyes turned up again. (Consider yourself haunted)
Despite himself, and despite everything that had happened, everything he'd done, and that he was a mess standing at the edge of a graveyard in the snow with a ghost as his only companion a town or more away from home - despite it all, Danny laughed. Something in him released all at once; perhaps the coil of stress wound one tick too tight and snapped, or perhaps it was the realization that he wasn't on his own, not really, not so long as the phantom hung around, even if it couldn't help him on a tangible level. Haunted. It was so succinctly absurd, and so, so good to let everything else fall away. Before he fully realized he'd meant to, he'd reached over and taken the phantom's hand again. "Thanks. I guess I really needed that."
The phantom just smiled back. (You're really stuck with me now. How're you gonna get home otherwise? By yourself?)
Danny was somber again in an instant. "I don't know. Buses back to Amity don't start up again 'til morning. Phone's dead. Can't even ask anyone to come and pick me up."
(Well) the phantom turned back to the town beyond the trees. (Hm. Oh, hey, I wonder if some the gas stations are twenty-four hours? I think there's at least one. Maybe they'd have a phone you could borrow?)
"You think so?"
(Yeah. Come on. You thought flying was cool? Check this out) and without waiting for an answer it flew ahead, pulling him through snow and frozen trees and shrubs as if they didn't really exist. For the moment, they may as well not have existed, and the next thing Danny knew they'd come out in the back parking lot of what appeared to be a Denny's.
Danny turned back to the phantom. "What'd you do?"
(Shared) said the phantom, (thought it'd be faster than going around. Don't you think?)
"Yeah, but - " Danny paused, and then tried again: "I don't know, just - warn me next time? Phasing through solid objects isn't really as straightforward, you know?"
The phantom gave Danny what he assumed to be a half-hearted shrug. (Okay, but I think the place is a few blocks over from here)
Danny trotted ahead, following the sidewalk around the corner of the building and having a look across the front lot and down the road. "All I'm seeing is streetlights. I’m guessing you know this town better than me." He shot a look back to the phantom, expecting it to take the lead.
The phantom hesitated, but only for a moment. (The living don't really - you know, you don't see the dead wandering around most times, do you?)
"Wait, what're you getting at? You think I'm just gonna ditch you from here on out?"
(I'm just saying don't act all surprised) said the phantom. It was as if it was taking a deep breath; he materialized fully, finally allowing himself a face, and appeared in a simple jacket and black jeans. His eyes still carried their ethereal glint, but apart from that he appeared human - he shook his head briefly, sending his white hair flying, and then gave Danny a grin. "I get leeway, remember?"
"You're a showoff," said Danny, who had not known the phantom could manifest so clearly - so that's what his face looks like - and was not about to let him get off easy about it.
"What, I gotta go around looking like an oil slick all the time? Give a guy some credit, will you? Besides, you know what'd happen if people saw a shadow like me on the loose? They might call your parents. That's what."
Danny's gaze fell. "Right."
"C'mon," the phantom took Danny's hand as he passed, and led the way into the streets. Danny noticed, after a moment, that he was the only one leaving footprints behind - he also appeared to be the only one exuding clouds with every breath. That's because he's not breathing, stupid, he chided himself, duh. Still, something just seemed right about the phantom, and it wasn't only because it was the only other option to being on his own again.
For the life of him, though, he couldn't place the feeling.
The two of them stood in the parking lot outside the gas station. Sure enough, the lights inside were still on, and the sidewalk looked to have been shoveled fairly recently. That was probably for the best; the snow had gotten going in earnest, and Danny speculated it had probably caught up to them from Amity Park where the worst of it had been earlier. He trotted ahead, pausing with one hand on the door to turn back to the phantom. "You coming?"
"Yeah," said the phantom, "Just in time, too. You don't look so good. Told you you'd freeze."
Danny ignored that last comment, and ignored the numbness from his feet and the tips of his fingers, and pulled the door open. The single clerk behind the register looked bored, but it wasn't until Danny asked to borrow the phone that either he or the phantom were acknowledged at all. He took it, giving the clerk one of those awkward-thanks smiles, and took a deep breath.
You know you're gonna have to fess up, and you know it's probably Mom who's gonna answer.
Let her, if it means I can go home.
It only rang once; sure enough, it was his mother.
"Mom," said Danny, daring himself to keep his composure. Despite his best efforts, his voice splintered and he was crying. "Mom - look, I'm okay, I just - "
"I promise I'm fine"
"I know"
"Can you and Dad come get me"
"Please"
"No, I'm with a friend"
"Yeah"
"Okay"
"Hi, Dad"
"Yeah"
"Yeah, I'm okay"
"No"
"Okay"
"Love you too."
- - - -
"Phantom?"
The two of them sat on the curb, watching the snow and waiting for the Fenton RV to pull up. Danny's mother had said forty-five minutes; his father had promised fifteen.
"Yeah?"
Danny hesitated, knowing he probably wasn't going to get an answer he liked. "Don't suppose you'd wanna come back with me, would you?"
The phantom snorted. "You kidding? Your parents are ghosthunters, man. You said so. No offense, or maybe some offense, but like. Yikes."
"Yeah," said Danny quietly, "Thought so."
The phantom was silent for a moment, but then shifted to lean back on his hands. "You were right, though. Earlier."
"What?"
"When you asked how I died."
Danny turned to him, opened his mouth to protest - you shouldn't have to tell me if you don't want to - but the phantom put up a hand to keep him silent.
"It went pretty much how you think it did. Lemme tell you, dying really sucks. I don't know if it's like that for everybody, maybe I just got unlucky, but - I just didn't want you to end up like me, you know?"
"Hey - are you okay?"
The phantom turned skyward, doing his best to blink away the tears that dared to creep up into the corners of his eyes, but after a fruitless minute he swiped at them with the back of his wrist anyhow. "Look at this, you got me feeling stuff, I can't believe it. I'm almost as much of a wreck as you now."
"Hey," Danny protested halfheartedly, but knew there was little he could say in his own defense. He really had done it to himself; everything that had happened the whole evening had been more or less directly his own fault.
That said, he was glad that the phantom had stuck with him. He wondered what might have happened if he'd been alone all night - no, he had a fairly good idea of what might have happened, and he didn't really want to find out for sure. Dying really sucks.
The phantom had recomposed himself, and stood as an excuse to stretch out. "Hey, s'that them?"
Danny followed the phantom's gaze - sure enough, a double pair of headlights had turned onto the road, visible even through the haze of snow. He rose to his feet, turning back to the phantom and giving him a final smile. "Thanks," he said, "for sticking with me. I guess I owe you one."
The phantom had his arms around Danny in an instant. The motion was on impulse; it took them both a second to realize what had happened, and a second after that for the phantom to feel Danny's arms around him in return.
"Don't forget about me, I mean it."
"I won't."
The headlights swerved into the lot, and the phantom faded into thin air. Danny was alone only for a moment before both of his parents burst out and immediately began to fuss. He let them; he knew he'd catch heat, but not until they got home, and he had until then to sort everything out.
I wanna see you again, he'd meant to say, but had been cut short, and now it was probably too late. He wondered, if he came back into town sometime, if the phantom would still be there. You think he's got anything better to do? said something in him, but that part was at war with the part that insisted why would he sit and wait around? just for you? aren't you a bit selfish to think that?
Was he, really?
- - - -
The phantom watched Danny go. Ghosthunters had sit ill with him since the living boy had mentioned them, and he knew he didn’t want to get involved. Who could blame him, really? He'd seen the kid off, and made sure he was alright. Now he could get back to. . .
. . . what, exactly?
Not much. That was what it amounted to. The phantom had, for most of the evening so far, been able to fend off the crushing loneliness of death. He was lucky - very lucky, considering that Danny hadn't fled at the sight of him, and luckier still that they'd gotten along. He should have counted it as a decent night. All had ended well.
The empty pit in his stomach, however, begged to differ.
Even if it had just been for one fleeting instant, just then, before he'd vanished into thin air so the hunters wouldn't have seen him, he'd felt alive again. Maybe it was the solid warmth of a living body, or maybe it was the assurance that, in that moment, he wasn't on his own.
Now Danny was gone, fading with the taillights of the RV as it turned a corner and disappeared altogether.
That pained him.
It pained him - now you're back to the usual, and isn't it horrible? - and it was too much. He burst into silent tears, alone and unseen in the parking lot of the only gas station in town that was still open. He'd never see Danny again.
Why didn't you go too?
He wished, beyond anything, that he could have gone, but he knew the hunters would have caught him if he'd dared show his face. He'd seen them coming, and he'd vanished before they'd gotten so much of a glimpse of him. Look at you. You let him slip through your fingers, and you know exactly why.
There were plenty of reasons why. Ghosthunters was only the first; I've never been out of town; finding him again would be such a long shot; everything I have is here; besides, maybe he'll come and say hi sometime; I don't even know how far it'll be.
Some small voice in his core grew sharp. You’re making excuses. You're just afraid to go. What's keeping you here?
That made the phantom pause. His grave had never been the most appealing place to hang out, but it was the only thing with his name on it (in theory, anyhow - a gang of vandals had seen to that once a few years back). What did he have left, when push came to shove?
Why didn't you go? You're just a scared kid, that's why. You thought you had it together, didn't you? Now you've missed your chance, and you get to go back to being alone. You did it to yourself.
You're a lot like him.
He'd turned down the only living being that had spoken to him in over a decade. How stupid was he? He wanted, more than anything, to take it back.
Quit making excuses.
He swiped the last of his tears away, and cast a glance skyward. Amity Park, Danny had mentioned. That must have been where he lived. The phantom had never been there before. In life, he hadn't traveled much.
Old habits die hard, I guess.
He ascended over the ice-covered trees and drifted for a moment in the air. From the height, he could see the town below, and he could see the cemetery where his grave and his dusty old carcass lay. Who needs that old thing, anyway, he thought, eyes tracing the smooth road carved out in white between the trees. I came in from that way, Danny said. It wasn't much to go on.
Wonder if I could fly all the way from here? Never done it. Might make it. Might not.
You never know.
This time of year - might get a little extra leeway.
Hey Lynse, I have been following your blog for awhile now, and I was wondering, would you mind if I went with an idea you had wrote a short tidbit for? It really got my imagination turning. It was one of the SuperPhantom ones, where Sam and Dean find clone corpses at one of Vlad's hunting lodges. Please let me know and also keep up your amazing writing, you are so talented and it would be sad to not get to read more from you.
Ah, this fic! I’m hoping to continue it at some point, but thus far said continuation is only a little more than 1000 words.
If you properly credit me, link back to the original post, and send me a link(s) to where you post it, you are welcome to run with the idea. @bookeatingworm has also written a short continuation of that fic, and they took it in a completely different direction than I’d go, and your idea would no doubt vary, too. If I do manage to get a proper fic written with it myself, I’d ask you to go back and add in a link to that as well (I’d message you with it). (I...mostly want to avoid people accusing me of plagiarizing the part of the fic I actually wrote or almost verbatim stealing ‘your’ idea.)
I’m glad you enjoy my writing. Thanks for saying something now!
Hey, we might get ideas from time to time, but sometimes you guys just, take off with them. Or you will do/say something first that starts the ball rolling.
“Oh. It’s you. Yeah, well, most of the time has been you two jerks talking all sorts of ‘what ifs’ and in general trying to make things as angsty as possible. Because heavens forbid everything ‘Val’ coded into my backstory and everything you’ve coded into Edge’s wasn’t bad enough. But some of the things you decided we had to go through? Me captured and experimented on? Edge enslaved? Or how about the time you two had me outright dying and haunting Edge? Most of those we certainly didn’t start.”
Paraphrasing that one story I saw along the same lines years ago, mixed up with Kiinotasha's Temporal Trust AU that see's Danny and Clockwork raising a son, Eillian!
edit: The other baby is Clockwork being a lazy sh*t, I'm realizing now it ain't exactly obvious cause he ain't his usual blue, but I wanted to avoid that shade on a baby 👀
It just works okay, you absolutely know they would, I know I'd climb into a baby carrier in second to be lugged around, if I could fit, in a h e a r t b e a t.
That's the face of a man with a newborn, exhaustion from fighting ghosts as young teen? noTHING compared to unending trial that is keeping a baby alive and happy
I was so close to actually just making this a sketch commission like it's supposed to be, (the sketch version is posted up on me patreon too!) Listen I don't get to decide which piece I'm overcome with a desire to finish, it happens more than my wallet likes, but alas, the heart wants what the heart wants, and If I enjoy a piece so much I happen to work it over more than agreed then so be it
T'was a wonderful quick break from frantic Ectober work~ There’s more concepts up for view over on my patron! Halloween creeps on close yah’ll!
Initially this was @kiinotasha’s Patron request for this month, some sweet Temporal trust, but I ended up not being quite happy with some parts and ended up starting a new different idea! (which is almost finished at that)
Only to end up fixing this one up and finishing it today.... all because I wanted to try cross hatching and this was naught but still line art when I had abandoned it initially, so it made for perfect practice! O//w//O
Ended up liking it enough to want to post it, but not enough to want to have been paid for it! Keep an eye out Kiino~ There’s more Temporal Trust on it’s way!
