Protostar AU (Pt. 3)
Or, Danny takes a swing (ha!) at fist-fighting possessed chicken strips, and Nick uses the Lunch Lady has a plot device (at least, more so than usual (sorry Lunch Lady)).
1 ~ 2 ~ 3
Extras:
Manifest Types ~ Core Development ~ 1
If you'd told Danny three weeks ago that his parents successfully made a literal portal to the realm of the dead, he would have looked at you like you were crazy.
He's kind of missing life three weeks ago.
Danny scowled at the oatmeal one of the nurses had gotten him. He was hungry, of course, but the idea of putting anything in his mouth and swallowing sounded like torture. He was firmly ignoring Jazz's very obvious staring from her spot hunched over her homework. Mom and Dad were dragged away somewhere by Doctor Lydia, the woman in currently charge of Danny's care. They were hoping to discharge him this week. A total of four weeks in the hospital total. School had already started while he was in a coma, which, unfortunately, meant he had a lot of catching up to do. His parents, Sam, and Tucker were optimistic in him getting up to speed quickly, but Jazz kept nagging him about letting her ask for missing work. Danny so far has been playing dumb, but his chances of keeping it up are slim. He could appreciate her stubbornness when he wasn't staring down his uneaten breakfast, thank you very much.
Danny and Jazz broke away from their stalemate to the infamous sound of their dad's loud footsteps. Their mom shoved open the door, smiling widely, and held it for their dad to come through, carrying an excessive armful of folders and papers. His tie was half-undone from the business-casual he wore when he taught at the community college, and Danny spotted his reading glasses half-swallowed by his hair. Never let it be said that Jack Fenton was an organized man, no matter how much you could debate in favor of his genius.
"Hey, you two! Danny, sweetie, how are you this morning?" Maddie Fenton asked, shutting the door behind her husband. Dad set his ungraded work on the desk Jazz was using.
"Ack-! Dad!" Jazz exclaimed. "You're going to mix up our things again!"
"Sorry, Jazzy-pants, but I'm been lugging all of this around since I left the campus! Your old man's back isn't what it used to be!" Dad exclaimed, smiling and ruffling her hair. Jazz grumbled, gathering up her things and sorting them into her binders to shove into her backpack. Despite how chaotic their parents live, Jazz did not inherit their lack of organization. Danny did, but even he was shocked that they haven't lost anything important yet.
"I'm alright," Danny offered, tossing a napkin and a granola wrapper he'd eaten from earlier over his untouched oatmeal. Jazz, Grandma Ida, and Doctor Lydia were already on his ass about eating, he didn't need his parents too. "How was the talk with Doctor Lydia? Can I go home now?"
His mom smiled, tugging out a folded packet of paper that was tucked into her lab coat. She waved the paper around, a loose paperclip that must have grabbed on when she shoved it into the pocket slipping out and clattering on the floor. "Yup! Your father and I got a debrief on your care after your discharge, but otherwise you're good to go! They said to take it easy for a while and make sure to keep your crutches with you, but we can transfer your care to a doctor's office instead of the hospital!" she said cheerily. "These here is some instructions your doctor wants you to follow, but we can sign you out tomorrow morning!" She leaned in and pecked his forehead.
Danny screwed up his face in distaste at the feeling of her lipstick on his skin, fruitlessly trying to wipe it with his hoodie sleeve. Jazz's snort tells him he probably just made it worse. He ignored her, the background hum of that thing Danny couldn't explain in his chest pitching up higher in response to his excitement.
"You'll be back in shape in no time, Dann-o!" Dad exclaimed, clapping him on his good shoulder. "We Fentons are hardy folk! You'll be right as rain lickity-split!"
"Thanks," Danny offered, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself.
"Well, it would be faster if someone would eat his breakfast," Jazz snarked from her seat, giving him a self-satisfied grin.
"It would be better if someone would shut her yapper for once," Danny hissed back. His happy mood vanished at the reminder. Thanks, Jazz.
His mom frowned, pulling his attempt to disguise his oatmeal. "Danny, honey, you know you have to eat something, right?" Mom asked.
Danny cringed. He swallowed down the bile threatening to rise at the mention. His chest felt like it had a hissing cat inside instead of the humming presence he much more preferred. He pressed the heel of his palm to it, almost second nature now. "I did! I had a granola bar earlier. I'm just not hungry," he lied. Of course he was hungry. His puberty blockers meant he hadn't hit puberty yet, so he knew this wasn't teenager hungry, this was just a genuine "hey, dumbass, you aren't eating enough" hunger. Yet the idea of stomaching anything made him want to jump out of a window.
Was it dramatic? Yes. Was it also kind of genuine? Also yes. He was shocked within an inch of his life literally a month ago, sue him!
"Well, make sure you eat later, sweetie. Can't have you wasting away!" Mom chuckled. Her watched beeped, and she glanced at it. "Oh! Sorry, kids, I have to run. Lab work won't do itself! My samples of the Portal's membrane ectoplasm should be finished in the centrifuge with the salt by now. Jazzy, do you need I ride to your friends' house for Spike's birthday?"
"I can take her, Mads! I still have an hour until my next lecture! Have fun! Tell me everything!" Dad said. Mom pressed another kiss to Danny's forehead, then rounded his bed to press one to Jazz's temple, and stand on her toes to kiss Dad right on the mouth. Danny gagged and Jazz's nose wrinkled. They shared a look of mutual disgust.
"Bye kids! By Jack!" Mom called, quickly leaving out the door. The thing in his chest hissed and buzzed like a rejected stray.
"I think that's our cue to leave too, Jazzy. You'll be alright on your own, Dann-o?" Dad asked, gathering his cartoonishly large pile into his arms again.
Danny nodded, offering a smile despite the pressure in his ribs. Better than being grilled for his lack of appetite any day. "Yeah. Have fun at your lame party, Jazz," Danny joked. Jazz discretely flipped him off behinds Dad's back as she held the door open for him. Danny flipped her off by not-so discretely scratching his eyebrow.
"Yeah, well, have fun with your lamer party of one, nerd," Jazz called.
"I'm the nerd-" She shut the door. "Unbelievable."
He sighed, slouching back in his bed. His chest buzzed with an all-too familiar discontent again. The feeling left him empty, even if it was better than the angry thing it becomes when he's irritated. Unfortunately, combing through the internet and polluting his YouTube with searches of paranormal monsters hasn't given him many leads to what it could be. If only he knew of anyone who's ever been blasted with ectoplasm enough like he was to tell him what it is.
--
There was only so long Danny could sit there switching between cable channels and shuffling through the games on his phone before he grew stir crazy. He sighed, turning off his phone and dropping it on his bed. He shook his right foot out, trying to convince it not to ache in his joints and prickle across his skin. He pulled himself up, standing on his good leg and grabbing his crutches, then shuffling into the bathroom.
The kiss mark was on the left side of his head. His reflection has smeared red lipstick on the right side. Danny stared at himself, trying to spot the difference on his not-reflection. He swallowed. What would happen if someone noticed his reflection like this?
Unless maybe he really was just crazy and all in his head, just like Sam said. But he couldn't be, right? He shook his head. No way. His not-reflection couldn't just be a symptom of his electric shock. He didn't even know what he looked like without a reflection! And the feeling in his chest was too heavy and real to be fake. He'd know if it was, right?
Danny grabbed his towel and put it under the tap, twisting his right arm to let and let him see the lipstick smear and still get it off. Technically, his physical therapist had been telling him to do small things with his left arm and hand to get it back to working again, but what his physical didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Danny didn't have the patience to train his stupid hand to figure out how to wipe his own face of all things.
He sighed when he seemed to get most of it off, discarding the fabric into the sink. He'll deal with it later.
He shuffled back out on his crutches again, and wrestled with them and his doorknob before managing to nudge it open with his bad leg. He wrestled it back shut, already dreading trying to pry the damn thing back open again. The crutches clicked in the floor as he made his way down the hallway, his arm and leg jolting in a steady, obnoxious pattern whenever he applied pressure. His physical therapist could be proud of him for this, at least.
Damn, he forgot his phone on his bed.
Danny headed towards the hospital common areas, in hopes of at least stretching his legs and keeping himself occupied instead of dying of boredom in his hospital room. The signs pointed him in the right direction as he roamed the halls. He passed some doctors and nurses, but they barely spared him a glance. Not that he minded, despite that annoying humming in the right side of his chest trying to vibrate his bones out of his body.
He had to stop to take a breather by the time he got down to the food court. If you told Danny four weeks ago he'd be winded just going down a floor, he'd think you were lying. Still, his heart took a minute to settle down again, and a minute more for his hand and leg to stop cramping. Fuck what his physical therapist said, he was already regretting this.
Danny buried his face into his sweatshirt sleeves, careful not to stick it into the smear of ketchup on the table. He coughed, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest, and shivered when goosebumps popped up across his skin. The A/C must be cranked down further in here, for some god-forsaken reason. Forget boredom, he should have just bullied Tucker or Sam into video calling him.
The humming on the right side of his chest kicked up a notch, making Danny gasp.
Someone was here.
Danny sat up straight like a man possessed, head whipping around to find the source. Someone was here that wasn't supposed to be. Someone was here that-
He scanned the food court, eyes locking onto a woman behind the counter of the vegan and vegetarian options. The court worker was staring at her too, eyes wide. She dropped the spoon she was holding.
The boy and his father that were standing there were backing up. The boy was starting to cry, and his dad was heaving him up into his arms. More people were taking notice as well, and slowly the whole court turned to look at the transparent woman.
Her hair was tied back with a bandana, a pink plaid strip of fabric that matched her dress. She had an apron over her front, and plastic gloves over her wrinkled hands. She had a braid of white hair tied behind her. She looked like someone Sam's grandma would play bingo with if it weren't for... a few key details. She was glowing, for one, with pink eyes and green skin like a bioluminescent Poison Ivy, and transparent, like a sunspot Danny got in his eyes if he stared at the sunrise too long.
The old woman turned to the terrified cafeteria worker. "Hello, dearie. Could you help me with something? It seems like your meats here aren't actually meat! I'd toss this nonsense out myself, but I'm currently too incorporeal for that!" she chuckled. She demonstrated by swiping her hand through the trays of food.
Danny hadn't realized he stood until his bad leg nearly gave out from under him. His chest twisted tight, and he curled his fist into his sweatshirt, trying to massage it.
"U-um, this is the vegan section m-ma'am. You can't just throw out the food-"
"What? Oh no no no, you couldn't possibly be feeding this! What about the children?!" the ghost cried. She gestured wildly at the crying boy and man. "Feeding this to a growing boy?! He needs a balanced meal!"
"I'm just vegan, my son is not," the man tried, inching back. The boy clutched on tightly.
The woman gasped like she'd been told the sun was going to explode. Her face twisted with horror, and kept twisting. Her teeth sharpened, and her mouth stretched open wide to fill with more than humanly possible. Her eyes burned a brighter pink, blocking out the rest of her eyes. "How could you?! Children are so easily influenced!"
Warnings his parents told him for years bubbled up. That ghosts are violent, parasitic monsters, easily riled up into violence at the slighted provocation.
And this ghost seemed thoroughly provoked.
People started to scream and run, and Danny realized quickly that the once dead food was coming back to life, specifically the meats. It reminded him of mornings fending off last nights left overs to get his hands on the orange juice (which usually had gone bad overnight, but sometimes there was a sweet spot between the removal of old ectoplasm samples to be replaced with new ones), and surrendering any snacks to dry toast or whatever was in not unalive in the pantry. The servers screamed and dropped what they were doing to duck and hide.
Shit shit shit, his phone was still back on his bed! There was no way he could call 9-1-1 or even his parents to help keep people safe!
Danny fumbled for his crutches, trying to force his hand into working faster goddammit! A few gunshots rang out by the door, and Danny spotted two police officers shooting at small group of zombie cheeseburgers, with little to no success. In a crowded food court. Fuck. So much for 911.
He hissed when his bad arm was jostled by someone tripping over his crutch, and realized it was the father the old lady was threatening. He was kicking and swinging at some evil chicken strips, which were hovering in the air like they were still actual birds.
Danny acted before he could think about it. He grabbed his remaining crutch and swung it at the chicken, knocking them out of the sky to keep the pair safe. Ketchup from one of them smeared on the handle like blood. His chest burned, like those muscle relaxers that made your skin feel cold was smeared inside his lungs. The father, holding his son which Danny thinks must be a toddler by his size, didn't even bat an eye as he bolted for the exit. Understandable, but still rude.
"You're welcome!" Danny wheezed. Shit, what was wrong with him?! He'd like for his lungs to get with the program some time this now!
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the officers ditch the shooting-the-meat idea and go straight to trying to bar the door to keep the zombie food out.
Too fucking bad Danny wasn't really in walking condition, much less with someone to help. And thus he was ditched unceremoniously, the screams now all outside instead of inside.
"Hello, dearie, would you like a cookie?"
Danny gasped and whipped around, staring at the ghost hovering above him. He leaned against his last crutch, eyeing the second one discarded off to the side, behind the woman. "W-what?" he asked. He felt a low Hum start up in his chest, heavy and weighing down his diaphragm.
The ghost tilted her head, her eyes still pure pink. Her form was fading in and out of visibility, but her haunted meat was certainly still a threat. "Have I startled you?" She leaned in, and Danny stumbled back towards the benches again, dropping his crutch. A too-pointy grin spread across her face. "I'm sorry, I was just so concerned! So many growing children!"
His chest burned, and his leg muscles spasmed as he leaned off of it and back onto the table. He needed to get out of here, quick. This... she was not like the blob ghosts in his parents' basement. This ghost most certainly wanted to... eat him? Consume his emotions? Whatever! He needed an exit!
Danny yelped when the bench underneath him gave out from under his hands, and he fell through the table. Even the ghost lady was surprised! The heavy, icy feeling in his chest spread through his veins, and Danny found himself clamoring to his feet and trying to make a break for it. A glowing, haunted lettuce head rolled in front of him and caught his bad foot, and he crashed to the ground barely even half-way out from under the table.
"Ooh! A liminal! It's been so long since I've seen one! You're so skinny too..." the ghost sighed, her expression not matching her voice. "You must agree with me, yes? We all must follow the food groups, don't you think?"
Danny gawked. "You're obsession is diets? Talk about hypocritica-aieek!" He gave a very manly, very mature shriek as he was grabbed and yanked.
"Hypocritical?!" the ghost howled, face contorting into rage this time. Her hand was wrapped around his arm, tugging him closer. "I'll show you hypocritical! Ow!" Her face was inches from him, and twisted from anger to pain.
Her hand let go of him when that Humming in his chest Shrieked. Danny winced at the feeling. It hurt to breathe. His ears hurt when the ghost screamed. Her hand was smoking, the ectoplasm hissing and melting onto the floor.
"You little brat!" she howled, and Danny clamped his hands over his ears. The sound pounded in his ears painfully. "Where did you go?!" she cried, head whipping around. She shrieked angrily, face twisting and folding into itself. Her hair stood on end, ripping itself free of its braid.
She twirled in the air, and Danny realized she couldn't see him. He held his breath, choking down the angry whining of that thing in his chest. Possessed food products rose up in a glowing pink light. She shrieked and growled and Hummed and hissed, before darting off and phasing through the wall. The food followed after her, but only stopped at the wall with a wet, disgusting splat.
Danny held his breath for a moment longer, shaking. His hand trembled where he clamped it over his mouth and nose. His heart was pounding hard behind his ribs, that thing settled next to it twisting and writhing in tandem.
He could see why his parents called ghosts monsters. Who the fuck gets pissed over veganism?! Even Tucker only argues with Sam about it for the fun of it! Danny felt something wet hit the hand over his mouth. He pulled it away, and stared in shock when he didn't see anything.
Danny gasped when he glanced down. No wonder the ghost flew off to find a victim! He was invisible! Danny scrubbed the wet tears off his face and sat up, gawking at the lack of anything.
Was he dead?!
Danny frantically glanced around, praying he was wrong, and grabbed his crutch. It settled into his trembling hand easily, cold metal and smeared ketchup from the chicken feeling real, even if Danny couldn't see himself.
So maybe not dead...?
The painful ache in his chest dulled, and Danny watched in numbed shock as his body returned from invisible, to transparent, and back to normal. He checked his shaking hand. The same off center scar on his palm. The same Lichtenberg lines. The same NASA sweatshirt. His heart still beat in his chest.
Danny finally took a deep, shuddering breath in.
What was happening to him?