#protostar au

[merefis18]

a protostar in plastoid sketch page :,)

[fighting-perfectionism-with-fics]

Protostar (No One Knows AU)

Or, Nick tries to make Danny's life as difficult as possible (while avoiding his other fics), and Danny suffers canon-typical character death

1 ~ 2 ~ 3

Extras

Manifest Types ~ Core Development ~ 1

Stars are born in stellar nurseries. When Danny was a child, he read about how stars could be every color of the visible spectrum: red, yellow, green, blue. He'd learned that the yellow, green, and blue ones turn red and orange, then turn black or white. He learned that the sun in their solar system was actually green, its wavelengths technically green but the human eye only saw white. Or yellow, if you counted the suns his classmates would draw in the corners of their pictures at school. He'd get in trouble for making his sun green, even though it was green. Adults don't like being wrong, he quickly learned. Stellar nurseries are made up mostly of hydrogen and helium, the base elements that made a star. The cloud of gasses would heat up and churn, giving birth to star clusters that would make heavier elements for planets later.

Danny Fenton was 14 when his parents brought him and his sister into their basement to witness their magnum opus. All his life Danny knew this invention was the star of the show: the Fenton Ecto-Transdimensional-Boundary-Breaker. Or, for short, the Fenton Ghost Portal. Year after year, he watched it develop from a thought on paper and a useless ring of metal and wires (that apparently hospitalized their college friend in the past) to a hole in their basement wall, lined with scraps of metal and wires and tubes. He watches his parents grow more and more excited and more and more distracted. If he were younger, maybe the Portal would still excite him, but now he traded it for the stars. He's seen evidence of ghosts, of course, but they weren't interesting, and the things his parents did to the little blobs of glowing jelly made him nauseous. He couldn't go down there without seeing mournful little faces of what his parents deemed "Level 1 Ectoplasmic Echoes", or as he likes to call them: blob ghosts. They seemed so sad to be there, and the only thing keeping him from releasing them was his mom and dad's warning of ghostly mimicry and manipulation.

He could hear them churr and chitter at them as his parents ushered them to grab hazmat suits.

"The portal could cause the atmosphere to shift," Mom explained. "Radiation, toxic gasses, things like that. You two need to keep these on," she said, fixing Danny's mask in place, and helping Jazz with her gloves. Dad was hovering over by the portal, scrolling through a laptop.

"And this thing is in the house?" Jazz muttered, and Danny couldn't help but crack a grin. Despite what his parents think, he's fairly sure he and Jazz already have ecto-contamination, especially with how often Mom leaves ectoplasm samples in the kitchen fridge to bring their food to life.

Mom ushered them over to the deep, dark hole in the wall.

"Behold! The Fenton Ecto-Transdimensional Boundary Breaker!" Dad bellowed, his voice hardly muffled by his own mask.

"We've been working on this since college," Mom said, as if Danny hasn't heard about it for the past 14 years. "Amity Park has the unique quality of being on an Ectoplasm Bifurcation Epicenter, making it the perfect place to build our portal! Hold on, kids, you're about to watch your parents make history!" Maddie exclaimed.

His parents buzzed with excitement. Danny squinted into the darkness of the portal, seeing nothing but wires and metal. It seemed completely normal. Usually his parents' inventions (and food) glowed a radioactive green, charged with ectoplasm, but he couldn't see anything. His mom grabbed a camera, flicking it on and mounting it on a tripod to get everyone in the frame. She passed by them and gave Jazz a squeeze, causing her to wheeze sharply. They repeated their introduction again, this time to the camera recording.

"Ready, kiddos!" Dad bellowed. "3, 2, 1!" He grabbed the handle of a console by the portal, pulling it down.

Danny tensed in anticipation. Nothing. He glanced at Jazz, and she shrugged. Still nothing.

"What...?" Mom murmured. "Jack, is everything okay?"

"Maybe the breakers?" Dad suggested, leaning over. Danny leaned to follow him, spotting a long line of breakers uncovered on the side of the console. Dad ran his hands over them, flicking their little lights off, then on again, and tried the lever. Still nothing.

"Guys... maybe it's just unplugged?" Jazz tried, but Danny knew she didn't believe it as much as Danny didn't.

Despite his parents being the leading ecto scientists in the world (a title not held by many in the first place) he doubted they could make a portal to (basically) Hell of all places. He felt bad, though. His parents' life work, everything they worked so hard for, gone. He remembers how many nightmare-filled nights were spent alone in his room because his parents were working on their portal and he didn't want to bother Jazz. How many days of Jazz teaching him how to pack his own lunch until he just started eating cafeteria food instead of possibly setting a pack of haunted chicken fettuccini alfredo after Tucker and Sam. It's not like it mattered for his reputation as the son of the town's local mad scientists, but at least Sam and Tuck don't have to worry if his turkey sandwich was going to fly and try and bite them.

Mom and Dad hovered frantically over their console, upset, and Danny glanced at Jazz again. He could see an annoyed, pinched brow behind the glare of lab lights on her mask. She yanked off the glasses, then pulled her gas mask down. Her hair stuck to her face almost worse than Danny's was sticking to his from sweat.

He stared at the portal while Jazz went to go talk to his parents. He's heard this argument before. He doesn't need to hear it again. The open maw of the portal looked so unassuming for being a (not) portal to another dimension. There's no evidence of its existence, unlike space. Space had data, samples, pictures and calculations, and his parents had...

He glanced back at the glass containers of blob ghosts, his heart twisting at their little frowny faces. He glanced back at Mom, Dad, and Jazz. Dad trying to defend why they spent so much time on a portal that didn't even work. Jazz was spewing her long, science-y, psychology words right back. Mom was trying to talk her down from her anger, and defend Dad. As usual. He sighed, taking off his own hood and gas mask and putting his goggles on his head. Ugh, now he can breathe. He couldn't imagine wearing this forever like his parents do. He shuffled over to the blob ghosts, who trilled as he approached, pushing up against their glass.

He huffed a laugh when one didn't even float, just simply rolled across the floor to get closer. The cages were sealed, a recent change in the past few years because his parents caught him petting the little creatures. They'd lectured him about how they ate emotions and radiated ectoplasm, and he was lucky they were such weak ghosts. He wasn't allowed to be in the lab alone when his did his chores after that, not that is parents remembered that part much when they needed him to clean up after them.

After petting them, he did notice he felt different. Lighter. Maybe that's why he liked them so much. It felt good to not have to worry for once.

He huffed again when that same one continued to roll at the glass like it was Sonic the Hedgehog in a speed-dash, and he tapped on the glass. It squeaked and trilled, smiling up at him. Parasites of no, he couldn't deny they were adorable.

Jazz stormed upstairs, throwing her hands in the air, showing an end to the argument, and Danny tuned back in to the world around him. A cool trick of his that he was sure Jazz would lecture him about. Mom and Dad were hugging each other, staring at their magnum opus, and Danny swallowed.

"I'm sure you can get it to work," he tried. "Maybe you just need to sleep for a fresh pair of eyes?" Something Mrs. Foley would tell him, Sam, and Tuck when they got stuck on homework.

"You're right, Dann-o," Dad said, perking up a bit. His shoulders remained slumped.

"Come on, honey, let's get you out of this," she gestured at his hazmat suit.

Danny followed, his parents swapping out the heavier ones for something lighter, and Danny out all together. They moved back upstairs in a cloud of disappointment.

---

Danny Fenton was just 14 when he decided he couldn't take it anymore. His parents were depressed, lacking that usual mad-scientist glint in their eyes. His dad snacked on his emotional support fudge constantly when he would normally be down in the lab. Jazz was arguing with them more often than usual. Telling them to step up. Telling them to get over it and persevere. Telling them they needed to be there for her and Danny. Danny didn't necessarily care: he was used to this in a way Jazz was not.

But a month of wallowing? That's a record. A record that was grating on his nerves. So, when his parents went out ghost-hunting and Jazz went to tutor some home-schooled kid for money for college, Danny snuck down into the lab.

He had half a mind to not put on a hazmat suit, as hot and itchy as it was even with a cooling system, but the echos of his parents' warnings of radiation and toxic gases made him think twice.

Despite the power of stars, very few forces actually caused the creation of one.

Gravity, the pull of large objects in the fabric of reality. It warped space itself and pulled smaller things towards them, like a basketball on a sheet in Danny's 3rd grade science class. The gas of the nebula needed to be pulled in by its own mass, twisting and churning as it made itself smaller and smaller.

Danny Fenton was just 14 when he approached his parent's life work. There had to be something, right? Something they missed? Sure, he doubted their work pretty often, but his parents were so sure. They usually were, and so far, them being sure had lead them to a lot of places in the scientific community. He searched around the outside of the portal, looking for anything. Anything.

The portal was a feat of scientific engineering, more massive than the giant Jack Fenton, one of the biggest people Danny's ever seen. Wires and tubes lay about and funneled towards the portal. He could spot, between the portal and the wall, tubes of ectoplasm, explaining why the portal didn't glow as much at the rest of his parents' inventions did. He checked the console. Nope. Danny sighed in frustration.

The next thing was the gravity's ability to overcome opposing forces. Pressure and magnetic fields could only be over come by gravity as the gas twisted closer and closer, practically a spinning disk. The gas collapses once gravity overtakes its opposing forces

Danny Fenton was just 14 when he checked to see if the lever was still up before entering his parents' portal. It was dark the further you went, and he had half a mind to believe the dark end of the tunnel really was the entrance to Hell. He tried to tread carefully. After a moment of looking, he sighed in frustration. This was stupid. He can barely see, and he should go back. He didn't even know what he was doing. No matter how many of Mom and Dad's discarded inventions he tinkered with, he'd never be able to figure out how to tear a hole in space.

Danny scowled. So stupid. He turned on his heal and stormed out.

The final thing was a spark. The first atoms smashing together in nuclear fusion, Hydrogen and Hydrogen crushing each other into Helium, heat so strong atoms speed up and break apart onto heavier, denser, element.

His boot caught on a tube. Danny yelped, trying to right himself as he felt, grabbing the closest dark thing he could find in a desperate attempt to not face-plant. A natural, human reaction.

Danny Fenton was just 14 when he was human for the last time. He stared at the thing he grabbed, safe from falling but no longer safe at all.

"What...?" he couldn't help but ask out loud. The blob ghosts shrieked outside the portal, and his hair stood on end. The portal lit up in green, and he could finally see. He looked down at his hand, and it was pressed against a red button, the green one tucked away behind a panel. Wires crossed wrong on a switch he recognized from one of his parent's larger tools, preventing accidental starts of saws in a busy lab.

Then, the pain hit. Worse than when he skinned his knee when Jazz taught him how to ride a bike. Worse than Dash slamming him into a locker. Worse than watching his family argue when all they had to do was stop. Something raced up his arm, something he couldn't even describe, and his body locked tight, teeth and muscles clenching and Danny screamed.

He couldn't move his body, couldn't feel it after a moment, but he knew, he knew, that the current was still going. White filled his vision, and he thought...

Maybe his parents wouldn't feel bad about him dying if their portal finally worked.

But the painlessness didn't last long. The burning returned, and he screamed louder, ringing in his ears and joining the sound of green choking him. The burning was so hot it turned cold and then hot again, and something held him together, holding, holding, holding, and he couldn't stop screaming and he couldn't stop shaking and he couldn't stop seeing green, green, green and oh god what about Jazz and Sam and Tuck and Dad and Mom but it hurt. It hurt and he wanted it to stop, please, make it stop anything to make it stop-

The ignition of a star causes a burst of pressure and heat, shoving the nearby gases away as it was born.

Danny's vision was green when his body felt crushed, and then everything was gone. His screaming didn't stop, vocal cords torn and shredded and aching and wrong, and he twitched and spasmed on the cold floor, and all he wanted was to feel cold again and then he did.

Danny's vision turned from green to white, like the ceiling of his parents' lab. He was... he was... what was...

He couldn't... think well right now. The words felt heavy, his body felt heavy, but he also felt so, so light.

He turned, and watched in awe at the green of the portal. Spinning, spinning, spinning, like a star. It hummed in a way that soothed him, like when his dad hummed to him when he was sick, broad chest buzzing with sound as he held Danny close and Mom moved about getting things to make him feel better.

He hummed back. His chest buzzed, and it felt easier than words.

Green rolled into his vision, a blob ghost on the floor with him. It blinked at him, frowning and cooing and humming the same way the portal did. The same way Danny did. He hummed back, and the blob trilled, rolling close to nuzzle his face. It was warm compared to the relaxing cold of his body. Other warm blobs clustered around him, pressing on his head and shoulders, humming, and he hummed back. Humming, humming, humming, a sense of worry, concern, grief.

Danny just hummed back, trying to get the tiny little ghosts to stop being so worried. About what? Had something happened? Were they okay? Did his parents dissect another, its screams and cries filling the house?

He brought a hand up, white glove stroking the blob, and it hummed at him, and he hummed back, and his finger passed through the little thing, barely adding any pressure to it jelly-like form. Oh. He couldn't...

Danny tried again, but his finger passed through. The blob hummed in alarm, concern, fear, the others joining, and Danny could only hum back. Maybe he could-

There was a warmth in his chest, next to the humming cold. It could help him. He reached for the feeling, and it spread willingly across his body. His black glove stroked the blob easily now. It trilled, humming in relief. He hummed back.

He spent a bit of time like that, letting cool little blobs of ectoplasm hum and coo and churr at him, and the aching feelings in his chest, nestled between his heart and something new, eased just a little bit with their care. He was tired. His whole body hurt more than he could describe. The blobs' humming felt so nice. Maybe he could spend just a bit longer here...

---

Danny was awoken when the blobs moved, crying out in panic and fear. Something was wrong. He needed to go. They needed to leave. He couldn't keep them safe asleep.

Something new was grabbing him. Yanking on his clothes. He whined, but no sound came out. He wheezed when the whine hurt his lungs.

"Danny, baby, talk to me," someone said, and they grabbed his cheeks. His hood and mask and goggles were down. When did that happen? Purple eyes. His head hurt. "Danny, hi baby, stay awake for me. Your father is calling 9-1-1."

911? Was someone hurt? No, Danny didn't want anyone hurt. He hopes they get here soon then.

His mom's hands are really warm.

"Danny!"

Another head of red hair invaded his vision. Blue eyes. Like him. Like his dad. Jazz. Jazz and his mom. If Dad was calling 911, and Jazz and Mom were here, who needed help? Jazz was blocking the light of the Portal, that big Humming mass that made his chest feel like it was buzzing in response.

Mom must have seen him looking at it. "Yeah, baby, you got it working. You did a good job. Could you..." she sniffed. Why was she crying? "Could you tell us what happened? I'd love to hear about it."

"Mom! Now is not the time-!" Jazz started.

"We need to keep Danny awake," Mom said, turning to Jazz. Danny hoped they wouldn't fight. He tried to reach out with that nice, icy feeling in his chest to them, but got no response. It made that thing curl up at the rejection. "Danny, why don't you tell us about your day?" Mom was talking to him again, drawing him away from prodding at that feeling in his chest, just right to his heart.

He opened his mouth, trying to pull out the words, but his brain hurt. What had he done today? When had the Portal turned on?

"The ambulance is on their way. Give him here." Dad's voice.

Danny gave a breathy, silent whine as his whole world seemed to shift and turn into streaks of light and sound. It was too much. His head hurt. He pulled his eyes shut, his eyes burning. Something was wrapping around him. It made his skin buzz and prickle, and he didn't like it. He was suddenly aware of how much the rest of him hurt, his joints and muscles and bones aching. He felt like he was just struck by lightning.

It was suddenly bright. Too bright. It hurt. A lot. Theres was noise and light and pain and Danny just wanted it to stop, please stop.

They were grabbing him. Danny couldn't even think fast enough to make them stop grabbing him. Things being pushed over him, blurry and it was too much and Danny's eyes were burning. His whole body was burning. Something cold was put over his face, fresh air in his face and he wanted it off. They grabbed his hand. They kept touching him. Where was Mom, Jazz, and Dad? Where was he?

They were prying at his eyes. Pulling on his clothes, talking and there's a horrible shrieking noise over everything, someone is holding his hand still, moving around, his stomach lurching, static popping across his skin as people kept poking and pushing and grabbing him. Danny's shoulders shook. Oh, he was crying. His shoulders screamed in protest. His throat gave nothing but soft gasps.

Danny stopped thinking.

[xecutivecucumber]

You Will Be Warm Again

Even hours after escaping a frozen hell, Echo can't seem to get warm. An unexpected member of the Bad Batch is determined to change that.

AU based off of @star-farer 's Protostar AU, featuring a toddler Omega being raised by the Batch. Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78928721

Hello!

This is pure, self indulgent fluff inspired by star-farer's Protostar AU and Yatzstar's adorable fics set in it!

I've tagged them so you can check it out, but the gist is the Bad Batch as teenagers/adults, raise a baby Omega. This is a little different, especially timeline-wise, but the important thing is there. Mainly Lil Omega calling her brothers ‘daddy.’

It's also randomly a tiny exploration of Echo's thoughts during his rescue.

I had been in a bit of a writing rut over the holidays, so it was nice to bust this out in just a few days. 

Mando'a translations at the end!

Echo watched Rex board the Bad Batch's ship. It still felt so surreal. With every blink, he expected to be returned to the frozen hell of that stasis chamber. He'd dreamed, sometimes, of rescue. 

This time it was different. He knew in his heart that this was real. Because in each and every one of those desperate delusions, Fives had been there. 

Echo knew that nothing in their universe would have stopped Fives from being there. So his absence meant that something terrible had happened after Echo had been captured. Hell, for all he knew, Fives had died later on the very same mission at the Citadel. Echo hadn't had the energy to ask Rex. He didn't know if he could bear the answers.

He finally found the strength to climb the ramp. The ship was in chaos, but Echo had expected that, considering its owners. Two droids had been thrown into the mix: a GONK and a tutting med droid that Wrecker brushed off when it tried to scan him. Rex, who had been waiting for him, took him by the shoulder and guided him to a crash seat. Echo found himself shivering. He doubted he had really stopped, even in battle he'd been so cold, but now he noticed it again.

“I'll go get you a blanket, vod.” Rex said. “And see if they have anything for you to wear.”

Echo nodded and Rex went to go and try to cut into the chaos. Echo rested his head back and closed his eyes. He was so tired. He could have fallen asleep right then if he hadn't been so cold. And if the Batch could stop being so loud. Tech in particular was calling something over and over. The word fuzzed in Echo's mind, making no sense to him. He drifted, letting the noise wash over him. 

Something small and warm touched his thigh. His eyes flew open and he straightened, trying to find the disturbance. 

It turned out to be a hand. A tiny hand. A tiny hand that seemed to be attached to an equally tiny person who was peering up at him from beneath messy blonde bangs.

Why the hell was there a child on the ship?

Echo continued to stare and he was stared at right back. The ik'aad had clone brown eyes, Echo noted. In fact, this kid looked a lot like the littles on Kamino. The little placed their hand flat on Echo's leg, small brow scrunched.

“There you are!”

Before Echo could find his voice to ask this kid what exactly they were doing here, Tech emerged from the chaos. He picked up the child, who bore it without a squeak. 

“You must be more careful, dear one.” Tech told the kid. His voice was low and gentle. “With so many people on the ship, it is easy for little girls to get lost.”

Echo blinked again. Girl?

“Daddy,” The little girl said. That threw Echo for another loop. “He's cold.”

“I would expect so.” Tech said. “He was in a cold place for a very long time. We should leave him be.”

He glanced to Echo.

“I will be with you momentarily.”

His voice had returned to its natural briskness. Then he left with no explanation for the child in his arms, leaving Echo to contemplate the implications of a little girl with Jango Fett's eyes that called a clone ‘daddy.’

Echo's perplexed musings were interrupted by Rex returning with a bundle of blankets and a set of blacks. 

“Here you go, vod.” Rex said.

Echo absently pulled on the blacks, watching Tech hand the child to Crosshair. Tech returned to the cockpit and Crosshair carried the girl to the gunner's mount, where what looked like a child's bed had been set up. 

“What were you up to while we were gone, lovely?” Crosshair asked.

Echo stared. Was this the same sniper he'd met mere hours ago?

“I sploded a drillion droids!” The girl said. 

“Hear that Wrecker?” Crosshair called back. “She topped us again.”

“Ah well!” Wrecker said cheerfully as he cleaned his gear. 

Echo finally noticed Rex's smile as he sat down again. Rex tucked the blankets around Echo's shoulders. It helped, but he was still cold.

“That's Omega.” Rex said.

“She called Tech-”

“It's not what you think.” Rex interrupted him. He sat down next to Echo. “She's another enhanced clone, their sister. But they've raised her since she was a tubie, so she calls them all dad.”

“And they bring her on missions.” Echo said. 

“That's what the med droid's for.” Rex said. “Tech did some enhancing. He's her nanny droid now, with a bit of body guard thrown in.”

Echo eyed the droid with discomfort.

“Don't-” He said, and then swallowed. “Don't let that thing near me.”

Rex's expression grew pained. 

“I won't.” He said. “We'll have Kix look you over when we get back.”

General Skywalker came over then, as the ship moved under them. 

“Finally got into contact with the Council.” He said. “They’re glad you’re all right, Echo.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Echo said. A knot formed in his chest. “They’ll want a debrief, I’m assuming.”

General Skywalker put his hand on his shoulder.

“Not yet.” He said. His tone was gentler than anything Echo remembered hearing from him. “You’ve been through hell, Echo. They understand that you’ll need some time.”

Echo nodded, though he still felt anxious. Time. How much time until he was ready to talk about what happened? When he’d woken up, he could only remember the Citadel. But now he could feel memories stirring, memories that he couldn’t face right now.

“I’ve got to get a hold of the 501st and prep them.” Rex said. “You’ll be all right, Echo? I won’t be long.”

Though he was terrified of the memories, and still so cold, Echo nodded. He was an ARC trooper. He could be strong.

“Get some rest, Echo.” General Skywalker said. 

It was so nice to hear his name again. They left him then and the ship somehow fell quiet. He closed his eyes again. He wanted to sleep so badly. But even with the blanket, he was shivering too much. 

The hum of the engines nearly masked the soft pitter patter of tiny feet. Echo blinked open his eyes to find that Omega had returned. Crosshair followed a few paces behind. Omega held up a small, fluffy blanket. 

“Gotta get warm!” She told Echo as she draped the blanket on his knee. 

Feeling Crosshair's gaze on him, Echo reached out with his flesh hand to pull the blanket onto his lap.

“Thank you.”

Omega’s eyes had gone wide and Echo quickly withdrew his arm with its wires and bolts. His heart sank. Was this how all strangers would react to him now? 

“You hafta do tests too?” Omega asked.

Echo paused.

“Tests?” He asked.

Omega pushed up her sleeve and showed him the crook of her little elbow. Echo could see marks, layers upon layers of scars. Injection sites?

“Tests.” Omega said in a matter-of-fact tone. Crosshair had stepped closer. “I don’ like ‘em.” 

Echo could suddenly understand why the Batch might prefer bringing their sister with them rather than leaving her with the Kaminoans. 

“Yeah.” He said thickly. “I had to do tests too. I- didn’t like them either.” 

“They hurt.” Omega said softly.

“Yeah, they do.”

Memories bubbled to the surface of Echo’s mind. Strapped to a table. Screaming until they gagged him. A thousand jabs and cuts as they experimented on him and tore his body apart. And cold, always so cold.

Omega’s warm little hand on his helped bring him back.

“You’re still cold.” She told him.

Then she clambered onto his legs and pressed herself into his chest. Echo froze, unsure what to do. He glanced at Crosshair for help, but the damn sniper just shrugged.

“Ooooh, super cold.” Omega mumbled. 

But she didn’t move except to tug her own blanket over herself. And oh, she was warm. Echo couldn’t help but pull her closer and wrap his arms around her. 

“What’s your name?” Omega’s question was a little muffled. 

“I’m Echo.” 

“Hi, Echo. I’m ‘Mega.”

Her body heat seemed to spark his own body, teaching it how to be warm again. Omega said something more, but Echo’s mind was drifting. For the first time since he’d come out of that hell, he was warm.

Tech sat back from the controls as the ship settled into hyperspace. There. They’d be at Anaxes within hours. He passed Rex and General Skywalker, who were talking quietly with the holo of one of their men, and went into the main bay. He glanced at his datapad as he walked.

“Echo-”

“Sh.” 

Tech looked back up to see Crosshair pointing at a fast asleep Echo, who had a bundle tucked against his chest. Tech raised an eyebrow before sidling up to Crosshair. 

“She decided to share her blanket with him.” Crosshair said quietly. “And I guess she thought he needed some extra help to warm up.”

“I was going to suggest something similar to Captain Rex.” Tech said. “Unfortunately, I need to run some scans, and it would be best if he was awake.” 

He stepped forward and Omega’s head popped up. 

“No, Daddy!” She said in her best, and not very quiet, whisper. Crosshair chuckled and she whipped her head around to glower at him. “Daddy, hush! He’s seeping!”

“Yes, my love.” Tech said. “But-”

Omega fixed him with a glare worthy of Crosshair and Tech raised his hands in defeat. 

“Very well.” He said. “But we must wake him soon. He is not well, dear one, and will need help.”

Omega gave a gasp, as if she had not noticed Echo’s skeletal appearance and ghostly skin. She turned and placed her hand on Echo’s forehead.

“Not too warm.” She relayed. “Still jus’ cold.”

“Thank you.” Tech said with a smile. “But you are helping with that.”

“Uh huh!” Omega said, forgetting to whisper. 

Echo didn’t stir regardless. Tech watched fondly as Omega burrowed back down. Hunter joined them a minute later. He blinked at the sight, then glanced at Tech. 

“You think it’s safe?” He murmured. “I’m still not sure we can trust him.”

“What’s he going to do?” Crosshair asked with a scoff. “I’m surprised he could lift a blaster.” 

“We will keep watch.” Tech said. “And I am sure Omega will be a good influence.”

Indeed, though Tech knew there was logically far from a guarantee that Echo had remained loyal, it was hard to think it of a man who so tenderly held Omega close.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

Things were quiet for once on the Marauder, with only Hunter and Omega and the others having gone with Echo to get him checked out. That jolt he had received on the space station had seemed nasty. Usually just Omega was enough for a ruckus, but she had spent the last half hour quiet. Her little brow was furrowed with the deepest thoughts a three year old could have. 

“Can Echo come wif us?” She asked. 

Hunter took a moment to finish buffing out a scorch mark on his pauldron. He had worried about this. Omega had insisted on being with Echo during his recovery, despite the Batch’s misgivings about his loyalty. She was thoroughly attached by the time they had been called on this latest mission. Hunter had been relieved to find out Echo had stayed true, if only to save Omega from heartbreak.

But what about the heartbreak of him leaving?

“That’s up to him.” Hunter finally chose to say. “He might not want to join us.”

“Why not?” Omega demanded. “I yuv him!”

“Yeah?” Hunter couldn’t suppress a grin. “Even though he’s a reg?”

“Some regs are nice!” Omega protested. “Cody an’ Rex an’ Kix!”

He was surprised she had only stopped at three. The 501st had been taken with her the last few weeks and Omega had made many reg friends.

Hunter sighed.

“I’m sorry, Omega.” He said. “But Echo still has brothers with the 501st. I’m going to invite him to join us, but he might want to stay with Rex.”

Omega fell silent again. Hunter could practically see the gears turning in her head.

“I wan’ ‘im to be happy.” She finally said. “But I wan’ him t’be happy wif us.”

Hunter reached out and pulled her closer. She squeaked. 

“Me too, sunshine, but we have to let him choose.”

She wriggled free.

“I’m gonna go watch for ‘em!” She said. “And I’ma ask him!” 

Hunter considered the idea. The proposition might seem more appealing coming from her. 

It wasn’t long before Omega chirped, “Daddies!” Hunter watched carefully as she scrambled down the ramp and ran to the returning Batch, Rex, and Echo. Wrecker stepped forward and scooped her up.

“Hey, squirt!” He said.

“Notta squirt ‘nymore!” Omega complained, though she cuddled close to Wrecker. “I grewed.” 

“It is just ‘grew,’ my love.” Tech said absently.

“Aw, you’ll always be my squirt.” Wrecker said.

Omega pouted at him, then turned to Echo. 

“Echo, you ‘urt?” 

Echo gave a tired smile. 

“I’m all right, ad’ika.” He said. “Just a little worn out.”

“You can take’a nap.” Omega offered. 

“Might just do that.”

Omega then reached for him and Echo took her with a blink. She snuggled against him.

“D’ you wanna come wif us?” She asked. 

“With you where?” 

“Wif us everywhere.”

Echo looked at Hunter. Hunter smiled and nodded. 

“I-” Echo looked down, which was a mistake, because Omega was that direction. “I don’t know.”

“But I’ll miss you!” Omega cried. 

“I’d miss you too, Omega, but it’s not that simple.” Echo said and Hunter did not miss his glance towards Rex. 

“Your path is different.” Hunter put in. “Like ours.”

Echo’s brow furrowed further and he held Omega towards Wrecker. Hunter’s heart sank. Well, he’d meant it when he said it was Echo’s choice. Wrecker took Omega and she gave a wail that dissolved into broken hearted sobs.

Hunter gave Echo a nod and signalled his squad to retreat to the ship. He couldn’t quite hear what Rex said quietly to Echo over Omega’s cries, but the sound of approaching footsteps was unmistakable. Omega’s delighted gasp confirmed it, and Hunter turned to see Echo coming to them.

“Welcome aboard.” He said.

“Thank you.” Echo said quietly, wincing as Wrecker slammed a hand on his shoulder.

“You do realize that we are leaving before the accolades are given.” Tech said. “If that is something you wished to attend.”

Echo chuckled.

“I’ve had my fair share of commendations.” He said.

He glanced back one more time and Hunter followed his gaze. Rex stood alone, watching. Hunter wondered what he had lost, what he was giving up by letting Echo go. Hunter was grateful in any case. When Echo gave the Captain a salute, Hunter joined him. 

Echo woke up shivering. He bit back a curse. By the way he felt, it had only been a few hours since he’d fallen asleep on one of the Marauder’s bunks. Being cold seemed to be his default now, with his metal parts and lost body weight. 

He debated asking for another blanket, but he didn’t know how much it’d help. Travelling in space was always going to be chilly. He sat up and stared at his knees. He might as well get up. He wasn’t going to get any more sleep like this, even though his eyelids felt like they had training weights hanging off of them. 

“What are you doing?” 

Echo looked over, but Crosshair wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were narrowed at Omega, who slowly pulled her leg back up into the gunner’s mount. 

“Nuffin.” She said.

“Uh huh.” Crosshair said. “So you’re definitely not sneaking down the ladder, which you’re not supposed to go down alone, while you’re supposed to be asleep?”

A pause.

“‘M not.”

“That’s right.” Crosshair said. “You’re going back to bed.” 

Another pause.

“Wanna be with Echo.”

“Well, Echo doesn’t want to be bothered right-”

“I do.” Echo interjected. 

The only time he had slept well since being rescued was when Omega had been in his arms. Crosshair and Omega both looked at him, the former with a raised eyebrow and the latter beaming.

“Fine.” Crosshair said. “But I wonder if you’ll change your mind when she wakes you up three times in an hour.” 

He deftly scooped Omega and her blankets up and tossed her onto Echo in a giggling bundle.

“You’re still cold!” Omega scolded once Echo’d gotten her situated. 

“That’s what you’re for, trac’ika.” He said. 

Already he could feel the chill slowly ebb from his bones and he gave a sigh.

“You say funny words.” Omega said with a yawn. “Night, Echo.”

“Night, kid.” 

Echo was warm again.

Mando'a:

Ik'aad: baby, child under 3

Vod: brother

Ad'ika: little one

Trac'ika: little fire, a nickname

Okay so I wanted Omega to be there immediately as Echo was boarding the ship, but I was desperately thinking of why and how the heck the Batch would keep her on the ship during dangerous missions. Like who would feed her, or take her away if the Batch were killed? Then I remembered AZ and decided that the Batch just stole him. 

And as to not screw with the Fives’ timeline, let's just say they started taking Omega with them after that. 

But yeah, if IG-11 could be converted into a nanny droid, I can see Tech being able to reprogram and upgrade AZ to be able to defend Omega. I like to think whenever it happens, AZ has no idea what's going on. 

And yes, for a minute, Echo thought that Tech had gone and had a child. 

Omega's kid talk is based off of my own niblings. Especially ‘yuv.’

I legitimately wonder if blankets are less effective on Echo, since he's producing less heat to warm the same amount of space. I don't know, I'm not a scientist

And then Order 66 didn’t happen for some reason and Tech met Phee and they all went to Pabu and lived happily ever after.

Again, check out the creator of the AU, star-farer! Here’s their tumblr (https://www.tumblr.com/star-farer/769563721092726784/the-ikaad-au?source=share) and their ao3, (https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_farer/pseuds/star_farer)

[fighting-perfectionism-with-fics]

Late Work AU Pt. 2 Hunk: wow, alien planet! I'm so glad we can understand each other! Their technology and engineering is so awesome!

Sandstone AU Pt. 5 Grace: yay! I'm alive again and get to be with my queerplatonic partners again! Let's do big science!

Protostar AU Pt. 3 Danny: am I dead? Oh fuck, what is happening to me? The horrors are increasing and it's growing harder to stay silly. Please don't be dead please don't be dead please don't be dead-

[merefis18]

not sure who made it but I found a cadets gif on Pinterest :)

little soldiers listening to dad’s orders 🫡

[fighting-perfectionism-with-fics]

Protostar AU (Pt. 2)

Or, Danny realizes that having a portal open up inside of you maaaaay have some long-lasting side effects, and Nick stabs his writers block with a shank.

1 ~ 2 ~ 3

Extras

Manifest Types ~ Core Development ~ 1

Danny stared at himself in the mirror. His left arm and right leg pulsed with dull pain, and he was sitting in those accessibility chairs in his hospital room.

Something was wrong with his reflection. He knew it. Everyone was just saying it was a side effect of his accident, but Danny knew he wasn't confused. He stared at himself in the mirror, and... something stared back at him. It was... definitely himself, but not right. What was it? What was wrong?

He tilted his head (the room swayed slightly). His reflection copied him. He winked. His reflection did the same. Normal. But it wasn't. There was something wrong.

Danny sighed, shakily standing and grabbing his hospital crutches to leave his bathroom. Visiting hours have been over for three hours now, and the lights were mostly off for the patients to sleep. He's been stable for five days now, so the hospital staff weren't keeping him under observation. Danny was glad. The feeling of being watched and being told he could collapse at any moment was grating on his nerves.

After his accident, it took two weeks for him to come out of a coma and to stop seizing at a dangerous rate. As long as he took it careful, the hospital staff agreed to let him have his privacy beyond check-ins every hour. He'd had an electric shock through his hazmat (somehow) when the Portal had turned on, leaving his muscles raw and his joints sore, as well as electrical burns on his hand and foot, including the rubber being melted into his skin. He'd need an operation in order to get it all out, but the doctors said they were sure it would be good as new as soon as his Lichtenberg Scars went away. Which they have yet to do. Which they should have done by now. Danny was tempted just to convince his parents he didn't need it out at all, so the doctors wouldn't touch the sensitive scarring.

Danny collapsed in his hospital bed with a grunt, propping up his crutches on the wall next to the bed. Just the walk from the bathroom to his bed left him winded. He tried to control his breathing, just like how the physical therapist said, trying to let his spent diaphragm get back to normal. They were worried that his shock may have affected his breathing. Which it has. His heart and lungs were struggling and irregular.

Too irregular to let him be an astronaut.

Which is... okay! Totally. Danny could still work at NASA. He liked tinkering with his dad's inventions, and he, Sam, and Tucker did well with making their robot for their community college's Battle Bot tournament (with Danny doing the engineering and Tucker doing the programming, and Sam as their pilot). He didn't need to see the stars if he could help others get there.

Right?

Danny pulled his blanket over himself, shivering (another thing, his core temperature was dangerously low, likely from nerve damage) as the AC kicked on again. His left hand struggled to wrap around the blanket, so he struggled it on by kicking it with his good leg.

Danny was... not fine, but okay. Alive. That's what matters (according to his parents, but definitely not Jazz), right? He felt bad for being such a bother instead of a help. CPS had cornered him the day he'd woken up, asking questions after shooing his family and doctors from the room.

Did he feel safe at home?

Did his parents ever do anything that made him feel unsafe?

Did he like that his parents had a lab in their basement?

Is this the first time he's been hurt by their experiments?

How separated is his parent's work and home life?

On and on like that. Danny answered as best he could. Yes, sometimes when his mom cooks, it has its moments, no since he once skinned his knee tripping down the stairs as a kid, not at all. The social worker had kept a straight face, so he could never tell if he was answering right. They had checked FentonWorks for dangerous things, and the worker had said she didn't find anything of significant note. So his parents must have made sure to clear out the fridge and disabled the anti-ecto weapons before she got there, and Jazz hadn't snitched. The pros of mad scientist parents are that they were efficient. The cons were... a lot of other things.

OSHA was stopping by next week, Dad had said. He'd been confident they'd find nothing of note either. Danny didn't have the energy to think to hard about it, like where they kept the bazooka and jars of ghost organs while the government went through their house. Mom, Jazz, Dad, and even Sam, Tucker, and Tucker's parents came to visit, all coming with gifts of "Get Well Soon!" cards and sickeningly sweet smelling flowers. The flowers had died within the day.

Danny didn't know how to feel about that.

He wasn't cleared enough for his parents to try and de-contaminate him from the ectoplasm, which he apparently had a lot of when the Portal opened up, and the force had broken a lot of things in the lab, shattered anything glass in the lab and the first floor, shorted out the whole house and the entire neighborhood's electricity, and ecto-irradiated just about everything else. The doctors, luckily, knew about his parents being mad scientists, so barred them from giving him anything weird that could mess with his body, especially since he's under watch for another seizure.

Danny was grateful, because seizures were not fun, and left him out of it for hours before and after.

There was a gentle knock on his door. Megan, the nurse on shift right now, peeked her head in and gave him a smile. "Hey, Danny. Why are you up so late? How are you doing?"

He couldn't muster up a good smile in return, but Megan didn't bat an eye. "Bathroom," he said, gesturing at the door. His chest hummed, reaching out. He'd told his doctor about it, but no one has found anything.

Megan nodded before coming all the way in. "Alright. Do you need any water? You hungry?"

He shook his head. The last few times since he's woken up this week he'd try to eat, but he couldn't manage much before getting nauseous. "I'm good, thanks Megan, I was just planning on trying to go to sleep."

Megan frowned slightly. The hospital staff always did that when he said he wasn't hungry.

"I ate earlier," he offered. It wasn't much, but it was something, which is all they really needed to know. Mrs. Tucker and Grandma Ida had brought things over, but he still couldn't stomach much of it at once. The last thing he wanted was to throw up and cause more problems.

She sighed, coming into the room and dragging a cart behind her. She then shut the door behind her. "I know, but you're a growing kid! Can't have you wasting away, can we?" She grabbed some things from the cart. "Since you're up, let's check your blood pressure, oxygen levels, and heart again. They've all been pretty all over the place since you woke up."

Danny sighed, but sat up again. He held up his arm to let her wrap the cuff around his arm. Then she pressed a cold stethoscope to his chest. Her pinched brow didn't ease.

"Still low, kiddo. Any chest pain? Trouble breathing? Well, more than normal, at least," she said, glancing at his chart while she scribbled down his numbers. Danny shook his head, and she wrote that down too. "Okay. I'm off to finish my rounds. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

He shook his head again. "No, thanks though, Megan."

"No problem. Bye, kiddo. Try and get some sleep!" He waved as she left, taking her tools with her.

Now that Megan was gone, the humming was easing. It curled up in discontent. Danny rubbed his chest, hoping to ease the icy, buzzing feeling, just right of his heart. The interaction had just left him more drained than before, unfortunately. He didn't know why. That humming feeling only came when he was around people, and it was annoying and distracting, and always made him feel like shit after.

Danny sighed, laying back down. He suddenly felt really tired.

--

It was another long day. His physical therapist had him doing stretches and laps in the hospital today, and his muscles were spent. His hands trembled.

Danny was back to staring at his reflection again. It rubbed him the wrong way. There was something wrong. Very, very wrong. He didn't know what it was. His reflection copied him, moved like him, looked like him... but something wasn't right.

"Are you sure it's not just a side effect?" Sam asked. "The doctor did say confusion after an electric shock was common."

"I'm telling you, something's wrong," Danny stressed for what felt like the millionth time. His chest hummed sharply, and he rubbed it.

"I mean, maybe there is something," Tucker said. Sam had dragged a chair from the side of his bed to sit in the bathroom, but Tucker took up the counter, his laptop in his lap. Danny sat in the chair assigned to his room's bathroom. It was a common position for them recently. Danny appreciated the company, and he knew Tucker and Sam were worried about him. He couldn't help it. His mirror self continued to stare back at him.

It was driving him insane, and worrying his doctors and family. Danny just couldn't stop himself. It was like the thing in his chest was urging him to just look, and so he did. It had to be telling him something. He knew it was.

Mirror Tucker leaned into Mirror Danny's part of the mirror. "Maybe it's the ecto contamination thing your parents are so worried about. You have been pretty focused on it."

Danny sighed, burying his face in his hands. Mirror Danny did as well. "I know. I don't want to be. But I know something is wrong. I just need to figure it out."

"What if it's some kinda ectoplasm thing? Like your evil mirror twin?" Sam offered.

"I'm not being haunted by some evil mirror twin," Danny said, rolling his eyes. Mirror Danny rolled his eyes too. They looked at each other again. "This isn't a horror movie. It's still me. It's my reflection, and it's not, like, a demon. My reflection is just wrong."

"I believe you," Tucker said.

"I don't," Sam offered, raising a hand.

Tucker stuck his tongue out at her. She stuck her tongue out back. "But maybe it's some kinda ectoplasm reaction? Humans aren't supposed to come into direct contact with the stuff, right? So maybe the portal kinda blasted you with enough radiation that it made your reflection goofy?"

"Why would only Danny be able to see it, then?" Sam argued. "For all we know the portal blasted him and now he has brain damage. Like the people with disorders that make them think they're made of glass or their head is going to explode."

"Gee, I'm so glad you're taking me seriously, Sam," Danny said.

"It's a genuine possibility!"

"I'm not crazy!"

"But you could be!"

Danny crossed his arms. His left arm spasmed painfully at the movement, so it took a second for him to settle it there. "I'm not. I swear, there's something wrong," he said, desperate for her to understand. He's not crazy. He's not.

Sam and Tucker exchanged glances. His chest buzzed painfully, angry. Sam's face fell, and she sighed. "Okay. Fine. I believe you Danny."

His chest buzzed louder. Angrier. "No, you don't. You're just saying that."

Sam bit her lip. She said nothing else, and Danny ignored her and Tucker exchanging another glance, arguing silently for once. Danny ignored them, and instead stared at his reflection. He wasn't crazy. He couldn't be. Right?

His chest had too much pressure in it. He rubbed it, grabbing his crutches. "I'm going to go lay down," he said to his friends, and went to st-

Danny yelped as he tripped on air, falling over into Sam's chair. Her arms flew out to catch him. His crutches clattered loudly to the ground. His leg burned, and his arm spasmed as they flew out to catch him (he tripped, and his hands flew out to catch himself, and he hit a button with his left hand, and the world around him started to turn green). He barely managed to not hit the ground with Sam's help. His chest heaved and practically shrieked with panic, catching his breath. He felt freezing suddenly, and then it was gone.

"Danny?!" Sam and Tucker exclaimed. Tucker nearly tossed his laptop onto the floor with how fast he stood.

Danny squeezed Sam's arm with his right hand. "I-I'm okay. Just tripped. I must have been more tired than I thought." He offered a reassuring smile. His friends still looked panicked. Tucker grabbed his crutches and Sam helped him stand onto his good leg again. "Thanks," he said to them as they made their way back to his bed, and he shakily dropped into it, bundling back under the blankets, even with his NASA hoodie still on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked. "You just kinda... fell."

Danny nodded. "Yeah. It was weird, but I'm okay. I must have just overestimated my bad leg's strength."

Sam bit her lip. "Okay..."

"Hey! We should run down to the cafeteria and get some snacks to watch a movie instead!" Tucker said. "I can hook up my computer with the TV and use my media collection."

Sam nodded. "Good idea! I know this hospital has some good vegan options..."

Tucker gagged. "Sure, make the rest of us suffer."

Sam flipped him off. "Maybe you wouldn't be suffering if you actually understood how great veganism is."

"Hell no. Danny, what do you want? I'll get it so Sam can't torture you with her disgusting food."

Danny shook his head. "I'm good. If I get hungry I'll just steal from you guys."

"Are you sure? We can, like, video call you so you can see everything?"

Danny's chest buzzed, twisting and aching. The idea of eating after his fall with his chest like this sounded unappealing at best and nauseating at worst. He just shook his head again. "No, I'm okay."

Tucker and Sam exchanged glances again (Danny was beginning to hate that), before agreeing and leaving the room.

Danny took the time to catch his breath. His nerves were shot, and it was no longer just from the physical therapist today. His whole body sang with adrenaline from the brief flash of the memory of his Accident, and all of his muscles trembled. Fuck, that had been scary. He shoved the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to breathe through the iciness in his chest and the liquid panic in his veins.

He never wanted to feel that again.

--

Water dripped off of Danny's hair, and he didn't have the energy to force his bad hand to help him dry it. He tossed his towel onto the counter and pulled his hospital clothes on, and sat quickly again to take the pressure off his leg. It ached painfully in protest, barely reassured by the heat from his shower.

He scowled as he dug his fingers into his left hand, trying to massage out the ever-present trembling. He just wanted it to stop. Lichtenberg scars started at an off-center, circular burn on the side of his hand, and licked their way up his arm and hid under his shirt. The burn was raw again since the doctors had pulled some of the melted rubber off yesterday. His parents didn't think it was a good idea to leave potentially ecto-irradiated rubber in his skin, no matter how hard he tried to convince them.

Danny caught a glance of himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back, painfully wrong. His hands-

Danny froze, staring at Mirror Danny's hands. A circular, off-center scar was on one hand, and fern-like scarring bloomed from it up his hand and arm. But it was the wrong hand. He was holding his left hand, but Mirror Danny was holding his right hand. Shaking, Danny raised his left hand, scars and all. Mirror Danny, looking pale and terrified, raised his hand, mirroring Danny's left hand, but there were no scars at all. He raised his right hand, devoid of scars, and Mirror Danny reflected him, holding up a scarred hand.

Danny bit back a scream. That's... not possible. He squeezed his eyes shut. That's impossible. It was like someone made a duplicate of himself and put it behind the mirror, instead of his reflection. But it acted like a reflection, and Danny knew it was himself... He opened his right eye. Mirror Danny opened his left, in perfect tandem. His hands were still raised, a scar on his left and nothing on his right. Mirror Danny's hands were not scarred on his right and bare on his left as a reflection should be.

Danny's breath froze in his chest in terror, trying to breathe past the same liquid panic that flooded his veins earlier today. His chest began to hum again. Sam's mention of horror movie tropes earlier popped into his mind. Shakily, he pulled himself to his feet, and leaned onto the counter with his good hand. Mirror Danny did the same, but with his bad hand.

Danny did something that could arguably be considered stupid. "Who are you?"

"Who are you?" Mirror Danny mouthed back in perfect sync with him. Not a hair out of place. Perfectly Danny's reflection.

Somehow.

"I'm not crazy," Danny said aloud. Mirror Danny did not stop doing the exact same thing he did, mouthing the same sentence. He knew something was wrong, and he had been right.

Danny grabbed his crutches, pulling himself out of the bathroom. He sat on his bed, grabbing his phone on the nightstand and pulling up his search engine.

'Why does my mirror self not look like me?'

Danny hastily scrolled through movie reviews for horror movies. No...

'Mirror selves horror'

More movies... and...

Danny clicked on a website for mythical creatures. Luckily, there was a table of contents. Vampires... mirror-soul connections in literature... more vampires... Danny clicked on the mirror-soul button. He sighed in frustration when all that came up was literary devices and old fairy tales.

He backed out again. Nothing but literary uses of mirrors and horror movies.

He wracked his brain. Maybe it was his ectocontamination? It was the only answer.

'Can ghosts use mirrors'

Science of mirrors... mirror superstitions...

Danny clicked the superstition link. Breaking mirrors is bad luck... universe hopping (?)... fortune telling... warnings of death... sucking souls of the deceased... babies shouldn't see reflections (??)... candlelight and seeing the dead... reflecting energies... Bloody Mary... Medusa... antique mirrors being uber-haunted... vampires... mirror placement... Narcissus... covering mirrors after death in the family to avoid possession...

He was.. closer. Much closer. He dropped his phone back on the nightstand and sighed. Maybe he won't find answers in shitty magic websites. But it's not like he could ask his parents without them trying to study him.

Mirrors kinda reflected the soul, right? Which is why vampires didn't have a reflection. So Danny couldn't be a vampire. That was good, he didn't think he could handle needing to drink blood, though it would explain why regular food makes him so queasy. Maybe it was a ghost thing? Like seeing Bloody Mary or the deceased in reflections. The blob ghosts definitely existed. Maybe his ecto contamination made his soul/whatever the scientific version of a soul all weird and that's why it's like he's staring at another person instead of his reflection. Besides, Mirror Danny was still him, not some demon or evil ghost. Danny... he felt like he'd know if it was. Or at least know Mirror Danny was separate from him.

He pressed his good hand to the right side of his chest. If he focused on that humming inside, he could feel like there actually was something tucked deep inside of him. Another side effect? Was it permanent?

Should he tell his parents?

Danny didn't want them to run tests on him or deal with their experimental anti-ecto shit. Normally he'd be fine with them doing things to him or Jazz to protect them, like giving them anti-ecto weapons or going through the grueling decontamination process, but the idea of stepping foot into that lab made shivers go up his spine. The idea of letting his parents do any tests at all just made him exhausted to think about. His parents' work has never hurt him like their portal did. He'd been in a coma for 2 weeks, and the doctors told him he may not be able to walk without a mobility aid ever again.

Danny is not telling his parents.

Which is fine! Danny could figure this out! He'll figure out what's going on with his reflection/soul/ectocontamination and then fix it! Danny sat back on his bed, checking to make sure his phone is plugged on the nightstand.

He's totally fine. He'll sleep on it and try and find more tomorrow.

[fighting-perfectionism-with-fics]

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?

[fighting-perfectionism-with-fics]

Protostar AU: Manifest Types

Fic: 1 ~ 2 ~ 3

Extras: Manifest Types ~ Core Development

Ex-Living

- living people, animals, and plants that have passed away and turned into ecto-entities

Realms Kin

- people, animals, and plants that spawned via human belief or in the Infinite Realms

- could be based on an originally dead person and turned into an entity via belief, despite that person having actually passed away

Guardian Types

- usually in charge of a claimed territory and/or group of people, with obsessions involving specifics like illness or vague like protection and safety

- very territorial, physically aggressive, and likes to bond with fighting, similar to play fighting in animals

- they usually leave imprints in their territory and haunts, so other ghosts know they're claimed

- more than one guardian ghost can claim someone or someplace, but the ghosts can get more volatile if they have clashing opinions about something

- can be both the dead and Realms Kin, but Realms Kin prefer territory while the dead prefer haunts

- usually those with territory claims have settlements where that act as law enforcement, and have the ability to know when their territory is being violated

Muse Type

- usually involving the arts, sports, and sciences

- usually have obsessions for presenting their work or even just indulging in their particular passion

- mood types are a pretty wide variety, and aggression levels are individual and only when you're trying to piss them off

- the thing they create and love to do usually has extra properties, like a ghost's music being able to hypnotize people

- they show affection via penguin pebbling

Poltergeist

- ghosts who want to simply mess with people

- can be both benevolent and malicious, however most humans label them as malevolent

- can be ex-living and Realms Kin, but rare in animal types

- obsessions circle around revenge or can be protection like a guardian

- usually they claim a haunt temporarily or permanently

- the type to taunt the living or be seen as attachments that come from visiting ectoplasma-rich areas

- they can also be created by a single human and still have as much power as other ghosts, because the humans believe they have that power and influence and thus they do

- multiple people powering a ghost concept makes a Realms Kin, and most low-power Realms Kin are poltergeists

- they show affection with quality time, usually with people and ghosts who enjoy their games

Lawmakers

- ghosts that control and maintain concepts and laws of reality

- usually apathetic to others, but can show benevolence and malice from person to person

- usually focused on the objectivity of the concept they control since it's their obsession