#i’m sure danny has a nice support system and i’m sure by now he knows who he can and can’t trust but I am sending him warm vibes and | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

schmokschmok · 3 years

Text

witches are real, and you think this is just a funny fic title

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Relationship: Martin K. Blackwood x Tim Stoker

Characters: Martin K. Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James, Danny Stoker

Wordcount: 12,166

Freeform:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

No Fear Entities

Supernatural Elements

Witch & HOH Tim Stoker

Danny Stoker Lives

Halloween

Tim Stoker Deserves Nice Things And I’m Giving Them To Him

Summary:

Martin fakes his way into the Magnus Institute, a research and archiving facility for magical and supernatural (or as Elias Bouchard likes to call it paranormal) encounters. He expects the people working for the institute to be kind of weird but Tim Stoker takes his commitment for a spooky aesthetic to a whole new level.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070366

The thing is: Martin knows what to do with crooked smiles and superficial, flattering words. He knows how to smile politely and stumble through a thank you when someone compliments the jumper he’s wearing, not knowing that he made it himself. He knows how to accept an absentminded nod as gratitude for the tea he’s making every day for the whole archival staff. He knows how to get through a wide array of flirty remarks that concern his appearance, dignity mostly intact. He knows how to smile through a detachedly welcoming nod of a co-worker for years that answers his greeting by name.

The thing he can’t handle, under any circumstances, however, is kindness. Never been good at it, not even as a kid.

He knows his mother had been kind when he had been a child, had brushed and braided his hair every single night and told him fairy tales and stories, she had stayed up with him after nightmares and during thunder storms, had told him she loved him even when he was angry with her. And she hadn’t expected him to love her back, is the thing, hadn’t wanted him to brush her hair or hold her hand or meet every of her stories with one of his own. Maybe that’s why he gives back now, loves her even if she doesn’t love him back, brushes and braids her hair even if she doesn’t want to look at him, tells her stories of his work and the friends he doesn’t have but fabricates just to maybe ease her mind. (And if she doesn’t want him coming back, then he will stop. Kindness, sometimes, is about the things you’re willing to give up for the ones that you love. – On some days she calls him cruel for coming back and coming back and coming back, but she doesn’t tell him to leave, doesn’t tell him to stay away. So, he returns like a record broken, jumping on the same syllable until she stops the needle digging into him.)

His father had been kind, too, he thinks. Had to be to be loved by a woman like his mother once had been. Martin doesn’t remember anymore.

Mostly, the kindness directed his way is about bargaining favours and weighing the things he does against sweet spoken words. Which is alright, he thinks, because giving his last shirt for a sincere thank you has been his modus operandi since his father left. He wants to give and give and if that leaves him curled up on his bed on a Wednesday evening at eight o’clock then it’s just because he’s not strong enough to carry the weight of his own thoughts.

It starts like this: Martin takes up work in the institute with no real credentials to support his curriculum vitae or his claim of knowledge about anything, really, but he’s tired of working minimal wage, of cooking mediocre food late at night for his mother who wants to move out desperately to stop being all on her own in their empty flat, of working three shifts in a row in two different jobs and still struggling to meet ends. Martin’s tired of burning on a borrowed flame, shovelling hollow coals on a dying candle.

So, he’s faking CVs, so many that he loses count of them. He sends them to every job listing he finds, twisting and tweaking the details, staying up late at night on his battered laptop that takes almost five minutes to boot. He shows up to as many interviews as he can manage but he never gets called back in. Until Elias Bouchard phones him on a cloudy day and tells him that he can start working in the library, if he’s able to move to London in the next month that is. He accepts, of course he does. His mother would never forgive him declining the only job offer that would get them to pay their bills on time and pave the way to a nice nursing home where his mother doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Martin moves to London. His mother doesn’t.

He starts working in the Magnus Library which is a capital L kind of library as he gets told on his very first day. It’s a joke, he thinks, a library science master’s joke that he doesn’t get but laughs about anyway. (It’s a Magnus Institute’s joke, but Martin doesn’t know that yet. His hands are full juggling the Dewey Decimal and his customer service smile while looking at the impatient faces of half of the faculty members trying to loan basic material books he hasn’t ever heard the titles of.)

It’s not a secret that he’s incompetent, Martin thinks, they all know it, and no one says anything to his face which is probably meant as kindness but feels like cruelty. Because Martin isn’t daft, Martin isn’t incapable of learning, Martin isn’t unwilling to put every last ounce of himself into being better. But nobody seems to think that he’s important enough to be corrected. They see his misfiled loaning records and his misplaced books, and they say it’s not a problem, don’t worry and they take care of it without offering to teach him any better. And Martin, well, Martin is too embarrassed to ask them how to handle it in the future. He will figure it out, he thinks, in time.

(He’s right, but he doesn’t know that yet. It takes almost a year for him to memorise the layout of the library with its seemingly everchanging bookshelves and corridors. It takes almost one and a half for him to get to know every Library staff member and their preferred way to drink tea. It takes almost two years for him to remember the faces of the faculty members that don’t visit the library regularly. It takes almost three years for him to know that it’s Research and Archives and Library and Artefacts but human resources and accounting and information technology. It’s around the same time that he feels like maybe he’s part of the team now; the same time that his co-workers stop looking at him like he’s a bumbling fool without any skills; the same time that he stops calling his mother every three days or so even though she hasn’t picked up in a long time.)

The very first week that he works in the library is filled with many apologies, too many to keep record, a much and much of awkward apologeticness. A few conversations are held, he gets to know Rosie „the heart of the institute” Martinez and Lydia „from HR” Yılmaz. They are good people and talking to them makes the muscles in his back relax just the tiniest bit, although the panic never stops flaring up in his stomach that, somehow, they will know that he’s a fraud.

It’s the first day of his second week and he feels slightly more prepared because he used every minute of the weekend to pull up every article ever written about the institute and its library. He tried reading published papers, too, but without the institute’s access they’re securely locked behind a paywall he can’t get through without a credit card and loads and loads of money to spare. He snacked on canned peaches while reading about filing systems, but in the end he’s none the wiser.

So, he comes in an hour early and unlocks the front entrance of the institute with his key card. It’s eerily quiet in the dark lobby and hallways leading into the back of the building. The noisiness of the street and the embankment gets swallowed by the thick walls and the closing door behind him and the only thing he can hear is the tapping of his own shoes on the marble floor. It’s a mixture of unsettling and peaceful, but he’s not sure which takes precedence in his sleep addled mind. The unfamiliarity of the cream-coloured walls and the polished, almost black floor makes every shadow move in a way Martin can’t comprehend and he turns to look at them a few times only to realise they’re potted plants or laminated notes hung up next to different door frames. He passes a few glowing exit signs and the door to the stairwell that leads up to the second floor.

When he approaches the entrance to the library, a weight gets lifted from his stomach at the prospect of a light switch he can use to chase out the darkness that slowly gets more unnerving than comforting. Spinning the key card in his hand to keep busy and hold his anxiety at bay, he rounds the last corner and stops dead in his tracks. Because sitting right in front of the door is a person only illuminated by the harsh, cold light of their phone. Right the second Martin loses hold of his key card and it meets the floor with an echoing plasticky sound, their eyes snap up and fixate on Martin.

“Oh, lovely, you’re here,” they say, standing up from their hunched-up position without even touching the floor with their hands. (Martin takes a moment to envy that movement because every time he thinks about sitting down on the floor he has to either make sure something’s in close proximity to help him lift himself up or the ground’s not too dirty, so he doesn’t have to wash his hands right the second he stands upright again.) “I was starting to get worried I’d have to wait another hour for someone to open up.”

“Uh–,” is everything Martin gets out before the stranger picks up his key card and hands it over to him. They smile at him, slightly deranged but without a doubt handsome in a way that makes Martin’s breath catch in his chest. While Martin reaches out carefully to grab the offered card, they say: “Sorry for dropping in unexpectedly and unannounced but Veronica will have my arse if I don’t hand in this follow up today.”

Silence falls over them when Martin doesn’t react in any way and just continues staring at the stranger who keeps staring at him as if Martin should know who Veronica is and how important it is for them to do their follow up. (As if Martin should know what a follow up even is.)

“Tim,” the stranger provides when Martin doesn’t show the slightest inclination to do anything other than, well, stare at them. “I’m working upstairs in Research in Veronica’s team.” They wait for an agonising moment for Martin to return the introduction – which he fails to do, still trying to process that he’s really in an actual conversation with another human being before seven a.m.

“As lovely as it is standing here with you, …” Tim continues, allowing Martin once again to submit his name. Which he fails to do, again, because his mouth feels so dry he’s afraid if he opens it now there won’t come out anything else than a pathetic cough. Tim doesn’t seem too stressed about it. „I really need to go in there,” Tim gestures over their shoulder to the library, “and cross-reference a few things and brush up a few of my foot-notes before it’s time to clock in again. Veronica is really adamant about this follow up laying on her desk at eight thirty sharp.” The manila folder in Tim’s hand gets lifted for emphasis and apparently that’s all Martin needed to get it together and finally move. Without him intending to do so, his lips form a customer service smile that’s been ingrained into his very being from years upon years of working in ice cream shops and pizza restaurants and a movie theatre that’s long gone now.

“Yeah, uh, yeah no problem!”

He steps around Tim and presses his key card against the sensor underneath the door handle. After the soft opening click of the lock, he steps aside to let Tim enter the room behind him and he searches for the light switch with his outstretched arm because he’s pretty sure that one has to be on the wall to his left.

“Thank you, really, you’re doing me a favour, mate,” Tim says and legitimately bows with the biggest grin before he’s off into the depth of the library, swallowed by a shelf Martin could swear hadn’t stood there on Friday when he left.

Finally, he lets go of the door and gets closer to the wall to search with both hands for the switch, until the little finger of his right hand bumps against the hard plastic shell of a set of light switches.

“Gonna be bright for a second,” he warns loudly, unsure if Tim’s even able to hear him or not. Then, after a few seconds, he presses the switch and the lights above his head sputter and blink to life with the solid snugness of old halogen lamps.

His eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, then he treads over to the counter, rounds it and closes his eyes for just a heartbeat or two. He’s got this. Tim wandering somewhere, hidden behind shelfs, is not going to change the fact that Martin’s got this. His brain, heart and stomach just need to be convinced, that’s okay, he can handle a wee bit anxiety and nervousness.

Without further ado, he pins his name tag to his monochrome button-down (because that’s what adults wear at work) and starts to open the various drawers underneath the counter to catalogue the innards.

There's probably a system, stapler and pen and pencils in one drawer, neatly arranged in a compartment next to sticky notes and paper squares in bright colours and an uncountable amount of paper clips. In the drawer underneath, he finds envelopes, more paper in various shapes and forms and sizes. Another drawer reveals the minute book in which Martin should document Tim’s presence. (Probably? He’s not entirely sure if the minute book is for every research assistant or students only.) Right next to the minute book, Martin can see the keys for every terminal in the library, and a few personal items of his co-workers which should not be in there as far as Martin’s been informed. The last two drawers contain RFID tags, barcodes and printed ID cards. The space reserved for lost and found is surprisingly empty. (Martin thinks he remembers Janette taking everything back into the small storage room in the back on Friday afternoon.)

It takes almost fifteen minutes for him to open and close every drawer (multiple times) and he's still not sure if he memorised the most important things. It's quarter past seven, however, and he couldn’t find a single position plan, which is why Martin steps around the counter and starts to make his way through the maze that is this library. Clipboard and pencil in hand, he outlines the approximate layout of the outer walls and tries to draw in the shelfs he passes, marking them with things like Local History A—V and Ghosts (general) J—Z, scribbling down letters and numbers of the signatures that seem important to him. (He's got a run down last week but the library uses the most arbitrary synthesis of Dewey Decimal and an intern system that the first library staff must have implemented before trying to shove the Dewey Decimal into the small space left.)

Martin's good at making maps, if he's allowed to say so. He can read a map, he can draw a map. (It wouldn't hold up against a professional map but his always worked fine enough.) So, he feels righteous indignation when someone steps into his space, throws a glance on his makeshift map and says: “This isn't accurate, sorry.”

Martin furrows his brow, but the customer service smile is on his lips again before he’s able to will it away.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Martin asks even though he doesn't want to know what Tim has to say. “I mean, yeah, you couldn't do an accurate projection, but it's not meant to be. It's about the order of the shelfs, the signatures.”

“As much as I hate to disappoint you,” Tim says and lets his finger hover half a centimetre above Martin's map, “but the ghost section is three shelfs down to the right next to Russian literature. I walked past it a few seconds ago.”

“Well, the only reason this map says ghost is because I walked past the ghost section,” Martin retorts (and feels very brave about it). The desire to snatch the map away from Tim's finger and hold it close to his chest so that Tim can't spare another look is strong but Martin also knows it's childish and he shouldn't indulge in such impulses.

“Well, Martin,” Tim must have seen Martin's name tag, which is nice because Tim says his name with an exasperated fondness that Martin shouldn't have earned yet and it spares Martin from the mortifying ordeal of introducing himself after his fauxpas this morning, “I don't know if nobody told you but this Library is like the rest of the institute: A big pile of magical bullshit.”

Tim grins and the skin next to their eyes crinkle with mischief as if they're sharing an inside joke with Martin, as if Martin should understand. (And like every other time someone implies or references something Martin doesn't understand or jokes about something Martin doesn't know, he gets this violent urge to scream into the knowingly smiling face in front of him. But he chokes it down, more or less successfully.) And he smiles.

“Don't beat yourself up,” Tim continues, unaware of the wee bit of hatred Martin feels in this very second, “a map won't help but soon enough you'll get the hang of it.” Tim winks. “When I first started using the Library, I swear to you, every single shelf I walked up to was sporting the cryptid selection. Every single one. I stood between two shelfs and it didn't matter in which direction I turned, there it was: The cryptid section.” Tim's eyes don't leave Martin's face for a second, which is kind of unnerving but at the same time strangely reassuring. As if Tim's more than just aware who they're talking to. “This Library is more a Feeling than an organised space.”

Tim laughs again and Martin tries to join in, but it gets caught in his throat. Tim's flittering fingers and Tim's sing-songed “spooky!” only elevate the closed up feeling in Martin's chest and the knuckles on his hand that still holds onto his clipboard turn white in their effort to not drop it.

A quick glance to the watch on Martin's wrist puts a stop to Tim's easy posture and they say: “Fuck, I should really get going. Veronica's still waiting.” Then Tim hesitates and smiles at Martin again. “It was nice to make acquaintance with you, Martin. This won't be the last you'll see of me, but if you every think about going for a drink after work, hit me up. Sam or Rosie should have given you access to the institute's instant messaging system. I think you would get along well with Sasha — she's also in Research — and me.”

Tim shoots Martin a finger gun (which is incidentally the most obnoxious thing Martin has ever had to witness) and strides past Martin towards the library's exit.

And then he's gone like the first soft layer of frost in November after the first rays of sun.

It's quarter to eight and there's not much time until one of his colleagues will try to open up the library, but Martin uses the remaining time to lean against a shelf and stare at the ticking clock on the wall above the counter, trying to will his heart into a slower rhythm not dictated by anxiety or the sudden realisation that Tim had been close and Tim had been beautiful.

And like everything else in Martin's life: He fails.

This could have been the end and Martin's been sure that it would be. When the clock above the counter strikes twelve however and Martin gets ready to leave the library to go down to the in-house cafeteria, the door to the library gets shoved open and Tim stumbles in, closely followed by a no less beautiful stranger who Martin assumes could be Sasha.

“Martin!” Tim exclaims right before they're fist crashes into their chest right above their heart. “Thank the Lord, you're still here!”

The-stranger-who-could-be-Sasha-but-might-not-be rolls their eyes but smiles, before shoving Tim out of their way.

“Ignore him,” they say and turn a smile on Martin, he can't help but answer with one of his own. “He can be a bit …” They make a circle shaped gesture with their rolling wrist in clear search of the right word. So, Martin tries to jump in: “Dramatic?”

“Yes,” maybe!Sasha says at the same time Tim declares: „Oh, please, I have flair that's something entirely else.“

“You're a theatre kid,” maybe!Sasha says, ignoring the dismissive hand Tim waves into their face.

“Martin, you should ignore her,” Tim presses on before maybe!Sasha gets a chance to say anything else. “When I got back to my desk, I realised we never exchanged surnames which are crucial for the instant messenger.” Martin nods, slightly dazed and not at all sure if he understands the importance of Tim’s surname. “So, Tim Stoker.” He bows outlandishly.

“And Sasha James,” maybe-or-rather-definitely-Sasha jumps in, curtsying with the same kind of derisiveness. “Glad to be of service.” She rests her elbow on Tim’s shoulder and leans forward, just the tiniest bit, but it makes Martin feel strangely included. “You want to get lunch with us?”

The smile spreading across Martin’s face feels real, digging into his cheeks and showing dimples he kind of forgot he had. He casts a look at the clock above his head and says: “Yeah, sounds lovely.”

The thing is: Martin is a dreamer, day and night and dusk ‘til dusk ‘til dawn. He likes to think about all the possibilities he will never ever take, the wonderous things he wishes to happen but knows will always remain a fantasy.

When he was a child, he used to dream about his father coming back and apologising to his mother and explaining that it was all just a big misunderstanding, innit, he never would have left willingly, especially not without further notice. Martin would dream up every reasoning in existence, if his father would have come back Martin would have already heard his excuse. He’d just have to wait and find out which one was true.

When he was a teenager, he used to dream about mending the relationship with his mother, of sharing a smile with her instead of directing it at her disapproving or distant face. And he dreamt of a boy without a face but with calloused hands and experienced lips that would come and sweep him off his feet – literally at first, and figuratively when he hit that growth spurt in tenth class.

When he became an adult, he started dreaming about working nine to five and a two-day weekend. He dreamt about working in a café or restaurant and earning enough to sustain his mother and himself. He dreamt that one day he would open up his own place, a small restaurant or a flower shop or a shop selling something with turquoise. And he dreamt that he would meet a man, a nice and good man who would make everything just the tiniest bit more bearable; who Martin would like to be around and who would like to be around Martin. A man not merely tolerating him but seeking his presence.

Martin is a dreamer, but he’s not delusional. Or at least not anymore. The older Martin grew the simpler his dreams became. Now that his income is secure, he dreams about the domesticity of a social network and a warm body next to him when he tries to fall asleep. (And it’s the first time his dreams seem to be within his grasp. As if he can reach for them and cup them in the hollow of his hands. He just has to believe.)

It goes like this: Martin slowly grows desperate because the Magnus library doesn’t make any sense at all. One day Local Myths is on the shelf next to the counter, the next the shelf is empty, and the one after that Martin sees Vampires and Werewolves neatly arrayed on it. It doesn’t make sense, and frankly it makes Martin angry. This is a library for crying out loud, and Martin’s a librarian who can’t even fetch a monograph without getting lost. (Or is he a library assistant? Is Yvonne the only librarian? Everyone in this institute always seems to be an assistant, maybe Elias Bouchard is the only person with an actual degree in here.)

“Is something bugging you?”

A voice comes out of nowhere, causing Martin’s head to snap towards the frowning face of Tim Stoker. It’s been three weeks since their first getting acquainted, and Tim and Sasha drop by at irregular intervals to chit-chat for a bit. At this point, it’s something Martin has come to accept and look forward to but not necessarily expect to happen. Usually, they tell him about their research (it’s creepy and Martin never ever wants to enter artefacts, thank you very much) or their co-workers (including one Jon who Martin is yet to meet but who’s apparently really close with both Sasha and Tim) or the things they did on the weekend (they’re both incredibly busy all the time). But it’s not like they’re self-centered by any means, they ask about him, too. On a normal day, he hates this part of the conversation because he can’t really tell them nice stories about meeting friends and going out of town to kayak or whatever because he spends his time with his mother or home alone with knitting needles either documentaries or heteronormative romcoms queued up. And, let’s be honest, that’s not a compelling story to tell.

Today however Martin’s almost glad someone’s asking him about his mood because he does have an answer: “You were right! My map isn’t accurate. And I don’t get why!”

The startled look on Tim’s face makes Martin realise that he’s a bit loud and his tone is maybe a little aggressive. He ducks his head, heat spreading over his face, and continues in a more dignified manner: “It’s really not that bad. I’m just trying to shelve the returned books. But I can’t find the shelfmarks. It’s a little frustrating, is all.”

He tries to smile through his outburst, but he feels bad almost immediately. It’s not Tim’s responsibility or amicable duty to listen to Martin’s displeased rant, and they don’t know each other well enough for Martin to burden him with unimportant stuff like this. (The thought that Tim seems to be genuinely interested in what Martin has to say and that Tim complains all the time about uncooperative clerks and impossible to keep deadlines which likely means that he would be alright with Martin complaining a teeny-tiny bit crosses Martin’s mind but he tries not to dwell on it. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he would be mistaken.)

“You’ve been here for, what,” Tim says, his index finger tapping against his chin, a questioning look on his face, “like, a month?” Martin nods. “It’s absolutely normal to get confused. Like I told you: This Library is more a Feeling than an organised space. You can’t go about it with logic.” At this, he shrugs dismissively. “After that Cryptid incident, I literally brought my pendulum to work just to locate the sections I was looking for. And guess what, the Library didn’t care. It sent me running around the shelves nonetheless.”

Martin can’t help himself, his face scrunches up in a grimace. He should have anticipated weird antics when he first started working here, the Magnus Institute is a research and archiving facility for magical and supernatural (or as Elias Bouchard calls it paranormal) encounters. But Tim had seemed like a normal guy.

Quickly, he schools his expression into a more neutral one, before he says: “No offence, really, I hope I’m not intruding but using a pendulum seems kind of, well, esoteric?” The moment the words leave his mouth, he feels awful. Who raised Martin to be this impolite? Certainly not his mother. So he tries to backtrack: “I– I mean, I don’t want to impose or, uh, ascribe something to you or, or invalidate you.”

“It’s okay,” Tim interrupts him with a smile. He doesn’t seem mad. “I’m a witch, so everything I do is kinda esoteric. Can’t hold that against you.”

The wolfishness of Tim’s grin makes Martin think that this is an inside joke, too. Or, oh no, maybe it’s Tim’s religion and Martin’s a real jackass about it. Is witch a religious term? He has heard about wicca and druidism, but he has no idea if they call themselves witches. He doesn’t want to disrespect Tim or his belief system, but he also wants to know. Is it disrespectful to ask Tim about his religion? Martin wouldn’t do it if they didn’t know each other, but their friends (somewhat, kind of) and asking as a friend is more considerate than intrusive, right? (Or is he just rationalising and justifying his own curiosity, while masking it as attentiveness? Is Martin overthinking this?)

“So,” Martin starts and it’s an out of body experience where he sees himself driving against a wall without the chance to stop himself, “does that mean you’re wiccan?” He bites his tongue, waiting for Tim to tell him he’s an insensitive twat.

“Oh, no. I’m agnostic,” Tim replies, still wearing the same expression of content and reassurance.

For a moment, they’re both quiet. Tim leans against the counter, his elbows on the surface and his face almost in Martin’s space. It could be unpleasant, but he rather likes Tim’s complete disregard of personal space. (In part because he has seen Tim interact with Rosie who dislikes physical touch to a stark extreme in a respectful way, always keeping his distance. He knows if he ever were uncomfortable Tim would back off. And that’s reassuring in its own way.)

“Give yourself some time,” Tim says eventually. “Let the Library get to know you.”

“You talk about the library as if it were conscious.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Yeah,” Tim chuckles. “Yeah, I do.” He sighs and straightens his back. “It’s not, though, so don’t worry.” The way Tim says it, though, makes Martin think that this is not the whole truth. That there is something Tim’s not telling him. But it’s not Martin’s place to inquire further, he thinks. There’s definitely a plausible explanation for all this, Tim just likes to pull his pigtails.

“Shouldn’t you be out today?” Martin asks to change the topic and feels incredibly rude at the same time. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but it’s still quarter an hour to lunch.”

“Came back earlier than expected and thought I could mob you ‘til twelve and kidnap you for a lunch date,” Tim replies so nonchalantly, warmth spreads across Martin’s face and he attempts to swallow down the laugh that wants to escape – but he fails. (He has never been mobbed, and even though Tim doesn’t think of this as a date date, Martin wants to indulge in that thought. At least for a moment.)

“I think,” he says slowly, and a little bit mischievously, “I could take my break early today.”

The thing is: Even though Martin thought Sasha and Tim would grow bored of him sooner or later, they don’t. They stop at his desk when they use the library for their research, they pick him up sometimes for lunch or ask him to meet them outside if they’re doing field work. Martin gets roped into pub nights and trivia quizzes, Sasha takes him to her pottery class and Tim invites him to a poetry slam where his brother performs. (This is remarkable because of two things: First and foremost, because Martin has never been invited to meet family members of anyone except for the parents of a few classmates when he stayed for lunch. And secondly, because Tim and Danny are as close as brothers can be, and it feels like a seal of approval – or as if Tim needed Danny to approve of Martin before he could spend more time with him. Martin’s not sure which way round it is.)

It goes like this: Despite the cool September night air, Martin is way too warm in his thick knitted jumper. He runs hot, always has been, but today is not the day he wants to be soaked in sweat just by existing. (Truth be told, he never really wants to be this warm, but there are at least times where he doesn’t mind as much. Meeting Danny Stoker for the first time is not one of those times. But he’s also pretty sure that he can’t take off his jumper because he’s been too hot for too long at this point. Tonight’s going to be fun and he just needs to power through.)

Martin tries not to shift his weight from one foot to the other too often, instead he’s focusing on the way the soles of his shoes line up with the asphalt of the pavement and ground him. He counts his breaths, his hands burrowed deep inside the pockets of his trousers. He can absolutely do this, he has known Tim for a few weeks now and he doesn’t think Tim would introduce Danny and him if he’d think they wouldn’t get along. (This may be more of wishful thinking though.)

A small part of him wishes, Sasha would come too, to ease the tension in his shoulders and uncoil the knots in his stomach. But she's with her family, celebrating the birthday of one of her cousins, and the text she sent him a few hours ago sits in their chat, mourning her absence and telling him to enjoy Danny's performance, it will likely be one of a kind.

Right when he seriously starts contemplating to go home again and fake a stomach bug, Tim rounds the corner with a man just a few years younger than him who looks like a referenceless, free-hand drawing of Tim. Which isn't a bad thing, by any means, just noticeable in how alike they look, just different enough to not be mistaken for each other.

When Tim's gaze falls upon Martin, his face splits into a wide grin and he waves enthusiastically, almost smacking Danny in his face in the process. This causes Danny to look directly at him, too, and his eyebrows shoot up while grinning almost half as wide as Tim. (If there had been any kind of doubt about them being brothers, now there weren’t.) Danny turns his head slightly and nudges Tim with his elbow. When Tim turns to look at him, Danny says something to him, moving his hands in unison, that makes Tim stop grinning for a second and start furrowing his brow. It doesn't last long, only three or four steps, then he looks at Martin again and his face softens. (Martin desperately wants to know what Danny said because people looking at Martin and whispering usually means something bad. And if Danny already wants to make fun of him, then Martin needs to go. Immediately.)

“You came!”

While Martin was still weighing his options, measuring staying, but anxiously against going, but anxiously, Tim and Danny have come into earshot. And Tim sounds pleasantly surprised as if he had been unsure if Martin would come.

They come to a halt in front of Martin and Tim pulls Martin in for a quick hug, which isn't a surprise per se but still unexpected. Subsequently, he turns towards Danny and introduces them. (He says this is my friend Martin, I told you about him. He says friend, not co-worker. Which, yes. They're friends but it's still new and nice and positively overwhelming to hear him say it out loud.)

“Hey,” Danny says, his smile unwavering. He's either a good actor or doesn't hate Martin on sight; at this point, Martin gladly takes both over open hostility. "Tim told me so much about you. I'm really pleased to make your acquaintance." He pauses to make room for Martin returning the sentiment. (Which he does, thank you very much, just because he's a useless gay around beautiful men and can't handle surprise small talk at arse o'clock, doesn't mean he can't hold a conversation.) “I gotta be honest with you, mate, I need your help tonight. This is my first slam and Tim’s a shit critic. I need some real feedback.”

A reassuring smile takes over Martin's features because, of course, Danny is nervous. Martin would be, too, he supposes. The thing Danny had said had probably nothing to do with Martin per se and everything with meeting someone for the first time at his first performance. (And maybe his only if Sasha is right.) However, before he can retort in any way, Tim jumps in: “Danny, bro, Martin is probably the last person you should ask to tell you how awful your skid is. You didn't practice it once and he’s a nice guy.”

“Well,” Danny replies, mischief in his eyes and a mocking tilt in his voice, “I'm just gonna wing it.”

“You're lucky, you're a Stoker.”

“You're just jealous because you didn't inherit that gen,” Danny shoots back before turning to Martin and stage-whispering: “Everyone always thinks that Tim is naturally gifted and everything comes to him easily. But in reality, he has to learn things and work for them. Embarrassing, right?”

Getting roped into friendly, brotherly banter. That's good! That's involvement in a good and workmanlike manner! And, actually, way out of Martin's comfort zone right now. (Is this a test? Is Danny teasing Tim in front of Martin to see if Martin jumps in and practically stabs Tim right in the back? Or does he want Martin to disagree with him and stand in solidarity with Tim? Or is Martin’s brain just overreacting like, well, always?)

“You’re embarrassing him,” Tim accuses Danny, before shoving at him and laughing. It’s obvious he doesn’t mind Danny teasing him or Martin, because it’s good natured. (Or at least Martin wants it to be. He desperately wants it to be.)

“No, I’m honest with him,” Danny retorts, before shoving Tim back which causes him to almost crash into Martin. “Someone needs to take you down a peg or two. Once in a while at least.” He grins and it’s more on the boyish side.

“I think Sasha’s doing a good job keeping Tim in check,” Martin interjects bravely. With every second in their presence, the fists in his pockets lose a speck of tension and Martin can feel his nails easing out of the heel of his hand. He feels weird being the only one neither knowing nor using sign language while talking but he’s thankful that they’re including him, talking loud enough for him to hear. (It’s a whole new side of Tim Martin has never seen before, it’s nice. Very nice, actually.)

“I love Sasha,” Danny sighs wistfully, batting his eyes. Before Tim slings his arm around Danny’s neck and pulls him in, he says: “We’ve been through this, Sasha’s way out of your league.” (And probably aro, Martin thinks, if the small pride flag pin Martin spotted on Sasha’s satchel bag is any indication.)

“Yeah,” Danny says. “True.” Then his eyes fall on the clock inside the display window of a chemist on the other side of the street. “We should head in.”

They make their way into the pub, through a small crowd consisting mostly of people in their twenties and thirties, milling and chatting in wait for the poetry slam to begin. Danny makes a beeline for a bar table, even though multiple tables with chairs and benches are empty. Martin wants to point out that he doesn’t think standing for multiple hours is something he wants to do, but right when he decides that he can at least try, Tim grabs Danny’s arm and steers him toward a round table with four chairs at the back of the room.

“You won’t make me stand through your performance,” Tim proclaims loudly, then he sits down and pats the seat of the chair next to his. Demonstratively, Danny sits down on Tim’s other side – closest to the stage – and Martin rounds the table to sit next to Tim. While Tim and Danny shrug off their coats, Martin once again regrets his choice of clothing. (Maybe a beer or two into the evening will ease his nerves enough to pull off his jumper. Now he takes a deep breath and focuses on the soft chattering of the crowd.)

Underneath their coats, matching shirts come to light. An Aegean blue with white lettering, a loopy script proclaiming bestoked with the tiny caricature of a witch with a pointy hat on a broomstick. Below that, Martin recognises small print that reads: Witches are real, and you think this is just a funny t-shirt slogan. He chuckles.

Tim makes a questioning hmm-sound and Martin points at their shirts, saying: “It’s funny.”

“Yeah,” Danny replies, exchanging looks with Tim. “Sasha made them for us.”

“Why witches?” Martin asks. Opposed to standing outside having to face both of them, sitting next to Tim puts Martin at ease. (It feels more organic sitting alongside Tim. Most of the time when they head out together, they sit on one bench with Sasha on the other side of the table. This is almost the same, Martin tries to reason, Danny is just another Sasha. A person Tim loves and wants him to like, too. No big deal.) “Isn’t Bram Stoker known for Dracula?”

“Yeah, he is,” Danny says with a shrug and Tim adds: “Our name’s Stoker and we’re witches. It’s pretty niche but most people think it’s funny.”

Martin tilts his head in confusion, he opens his mouth through an irritated smile. Before he can actually speak though, someone on the makeshift stage steps up to the microphone and welcomes the crowd to the pub’s bi-monthly poetry slam.

“First up: Gerry with their poem osedax!”

The crowd claps and their conversation is completely forgotten. They listen to Gerry describing a life under water and a life dependent on death. It’s a bit early for spooky Halloween vibes but Martin thinks it’s probably a metaphor for Gerry’s life that’s beyond Martin to understand. (He loves poetry, writes his own in his spare time, but he’s not big on interpreting poems outside of his own limited world view. He likes reading poetry, imagining the lives inspiring the words, and applying them to his own situation. Seeing someone putting their innards on display for dozens of strangers to see, is something entirely different. It feels like trespassing, somehow, trespassing into the soul of another human being. Martin decides that he hates it here.)

Gerry concludes their poem with ragged breathing and closed eyes. For a moment, the pub is silent. Then applause rings out and Tim leans toward Martin and whispers loudly: “Gerry is the one who put the bee into Danny’s bonnet that performing here would be a good idea.”

Danny shushes Tim, swatting at him without looking. Absentmindedly, he says: “It is a good idea, though.”

Martin doesn’t say anything, while watching Gerry retreat from the stage and head back to a group at the long side of the room. They congratulate Gerry, and Martin thinks (for just one measly second) how it would feel to perform one of his own poems. One about his mother or the alienation he felt his whole life. But he’s not a word magician like Gerry, he doesn’t have plausible deniability for the things he talks about. His poetry is descriptive and more of an endeavour to capture a feeling than an analogy in form of a convoluted metaphor.

Next up is someone talking about a hamster. Martin senses a theme.

Tim and Danny stare intensely at the stage, absorbing each and every word being said. And Martin’s torn between getting up and buying drinks, and waiting quietly until the poem is over. He’s unsure about the custom. If it would be impolite to talk during the performance.

In the end, however, it doesn’t matter. They end their poem and thank the audience before they leave the stage. Martin leans into Tim’s space (a bit like Tim would do with him in this situation), his shoulder lining up with Tim’s and when Tim turns around he whispers: “I’m gonna get drinks. Can I get you something?”

“We can just get a pitcher,” Tim whispers back, before checking in with Danny: “You’re not up next, right?” Danny shakes his head and Martin gets up to get them a pitcher and three glasses. (He takes the opportunity to breathe in and out a few times. He thought they would talk more. That Danny and he would have to interact more. But, apparently, Tim and Danny are really into poetry slam and don’t want to disrespect the artists. Which is, well, nice. Considerate. And, yes, he shouldn’t be surprised about that.)

Martin orders a pitcher and pays right up, then he tries to balance the three glasses and the pitcher through the crowd back to their table. He puts everything down and almost misses the staff member announcing Danny’s performance. Lost Johns’ Cave.

With a spring in his step, Danny stands up, makes his way to the stage and takes his place behind the microphone. A small smile on his lips, he clears his throat and starts speaking: “So, John was lost and so was I.”

He pauses.

“It’s a fact and everybody knows that John got lost in this cave. It’s a deep cave, a dark cave, a cave that swallowed us up like a ravenous, soft-teethed beast. It starts with a slope, grainy and wet, and there’s only one way, so it’s impossible to get lost, even though John did.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“John was lost and so was I. I don’t know where he went, and I didn’t come to look, but one moment Kadir and Aylin where there and the next they were not. I didn’t reach the chockstone, I didn’t reach the climb. Three hundred and seventy-five feet and I was lost as John in his cave.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. While he spoke, Martin’s sure he could recognise the spelling of John, but Danny doesn’t spell Kadir or Aylin or at least Martin’s not able to spot it.

“John was lost and so was I. Seconds after minutes after hours after years, no climb in sight, just the steady flow of the stream and my hitching breath. It should stop sometime, I thought, it should give way down to his cave and I will not be a John. Because John was lost and I won’t be.”

He pauses again, a heartbeat or two longer than before.

“John was lost and so was I. No measuring of my position with a pendulum, no signal for my phone, no chance to be heard through the thick walls of the cave. The rush of the stream died down albeit the map depicting the stream and the slope correspondent.”

The air of the pub is filled with suspense and eerily quiet for a crowd as large as this one.

“John was lost and so was I. Limestone encased me and silence took over.”

Danny stops speaking, one and a half minutes gone. If Martin’s right, Danny has three minutes and fifteen seconds left. Every other contestant spoke for about five minutes, so Danny has plenty of time left. But he doesn’t say a thing. Seconds tick by and Martin gets squeamish in his seat. He glances towards Tim, but Tim seems unwound and relaxed. As if it were to be expected of Danny to pull something like this.

Danny remains silent, and Martin uses the tense atmosphere and the quiet audience to take an unnoticed look at Tim and Danny. They really do look alike. They share the same thick, expressive eyebrows, same dark brown hair and eyes, the same sharp jawlines. But Tim is soft around the edges, he doesn’t look as muscular as he is, his tummy rolling underneath his Aegean blue shirt. Up close like this, Martin can see the hearing aid Tim is wearing, and the moles that scatter across the slope of his neck. Especially the two moles that rest approximately half a centimetre wide of his tragus.

So preoccupied with Tim’s, well, beauty, Martin almost misses Danny moving on stage. He extends his right fist, before he opens it, while dropping it a few centimetres. At the same time, he mouths something that could be the word drop but Martin’s not sure because he can’t read lips. Then Danny spreads the fingers of his left hand, holding it flat and vertically aligned in a hundred-twenty-degree angle to his upper body. His right hand is spread in the same way and he moves it towards his left hand. When the pads of his fingers connect to the palm of his left hand, he lets his hand bounce back. The movements of his right hand two sides of an equilateral triangle. Again, he mouths something and if Martin would have to guess he’d say it was echo.

By minute three, Danny has been silent for one and a half minutes and has been through two repeats of the two words. (In all honesty, Martin is surprised that the crowd still watches Danny. That they hang onto his lips like a drop of water at the rim of a cup.)

Then he starts speaking again: “John was lost and so was I. I entered his cave and I got off the right path, I fell into darkness and somehow I came back. I’m not one of the Johns, I’m a Joey deep down. Because John was lost but I am found.”

A smile tugs at Danny’s lips, then, after a moment, he bows outlandishly (in an unbelievably tim-ish way) and says: “Thank you.” Then he leaves the stage in a beeline towards their table, while the audience starts to clap hesitantly.

When Danny sits down at their table again, Tim and he exchange a few quiet sentences. (In most circumstances this would make Martin’s anxiety spike up again, but to his own surprise it doesn’t. It’s just nice to see Tim interacting with his brother. Martin doesn’t have to be included to feel like he’s part of this.)

Martin takes a sip from his drink and throws a glance at the stage. After Danny there are still four people left. The performances are about existential fatigue, about childhood fears and dreams, and (in one memorable instant) about an imaginary soap opera the poetry slammer claims to watch in their head.

When the poetry slam is finally over, Danny grins at Martin and asks: “So, comments or questions?”

“Impromptu interpretation is not my strong suit,” Martin tries to escape the discussion of Danny’s depression? Outing? He’s not lying, he can’t interpret something like this in a few minutes. Especially not while looking right into Danny’s face. “I’m not sure what the cave is a metaphor for.” His tone is apologetic, but Danny laughs startled and says: “It’s not a metaphor. I literally got lost in a cave.”

“Oh,” Martin blurts out. “Well, then … I’m not an expert by any means. But I think it was pretty good, very compelling.” His ears are burning and the coldness of his drink seeps into the palms of his hands, contrasting the warmness in every fibre of his body.

Danny grins and says: “I like him.”

“Yeah, I do, too,” Tim affirms. His smile, however, is more delicate than Danny’s. (And Martin doesn’t want to think about the possibility that Tim likes him, too. Likes likes him. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he didn’t only acquire a job three months ago but friends, too. It shouldn’t matter that Tim is nice to him, because Tim is nice to everyone. Martin isn’t special.)

The thing is: Tim is so very nice. Nice in a way no one has ever been nice to Martin. He’s nice unconditionally, doesn’t wink suggestively at Martin when he hands him a cup of tea exactly the way Martin likes, doesn’t expect Martin to do anything in turn when he lays his hand on Martin’s shoulder in a silent display of support or affection, doesn’t want him to say thank you and how much do I owe you whenever he brings lunch in that he cooked himself, enough to share it with Martin and Sasha and even Jon, if he would ever want to. Tim’s nice and considerate and most people don’t seem to see it. They take Tim’s jokes and pop-culture references as a demonstration of his whole personality, take in the beauty of his face and simmer it down to the essence of his existence.

Tim is beautiful and he is funny, Martin’s the last to argue with that. But Tim is more, Tim is beyond, Tim is the soft are you alright when Martin must step out for a second after a reprimand from an assistant, Tim is the curious no, I want to know what you think about it, Tim is the reassuring you’ve got this and the understanding and if you don’t, I’m still here. Tim is every post-it note on Martin’s desk that says delighted to see you here and you look nice today and take time for yourself.

Tim is so very nice without even trying that Martin can’t help himself but fall in love with him. Embarrassing, right?

It ends like this: Martin doesn’t argue with Tim about his insistence that he’s a witch, because: Who’s Martin to deny Tim anything at all. Yes, he would like to know more about Tim as a person and about the things he does on weekends and, yes, getting cryptic answers like hanging out with the coven is a bit frustrating, but Martin also must confess that he admires Tim dedication.

It’s almost Halloween and since the start of October, Tim has been wearing a pointy hat to work. Which is kind of ridiculous but endearing at the same time because Sasha assures Martin that Danny does it too and that they do it every year in October. (It’s not one of his finer moments, it’s true, but he couldn’t help himself asking Sasha is this is some kind of meme. A Stoker inside gag that everyone is in on, but Sasha just smiles at him and says: “Oh, Martin, love, no. It’s not a meme.”)

When Martin asks him about the hat, Tim tilts his head in mild confusion and replies: “I’m a witch, Martin. Witches wear pointy hats.”

And Martin who’s got enough practice now dealing with Tim’s antics, retorts: “No, I mean, yes, I know, I mean: You didn’t wear it in the summer, why?”

“Usually, I wear my hat to rituals and stuff because channelling energy is way easier with a hat. But in October my coven wears it to let the spirits and the fair folk know they shouldn’t fuck around with us,” Tim explains. And Martin looks him dead into his eyes and says: “Makes sense.”

Three days before Halloween (or Mischief Night as Tim likes to call it), Tim drops off a bottle of essential oil at Martin’s desk. Before Martin can ask about it, Tim says: “I brought you essential oils for your headache.”

“Because,” Martin starts and stops hesitantly, wondering when he mentioned his headaches in front of Tim, without coming up with an answer, “you’re a witch.”

Tim nods, adding however: “But, you know, essential oils don’t need magic to work.”

“Makes sense,” Martin says, for the simple reason that he doesn’t know what else to say. This is getting ridiculous, but he doesn’t want to be the buzzkill. He wants to be Tim’s friend (or date, despite the whole witch-thing) and friends are supportive of each other! Friends don’t judge you for your oddities.

Tim changes the topic: “Do you have anything planned for Mischief Night?” Martin shakes his head. “Then I would like to formally invite you to celebrate Mischief Night with me.”

“Wouldn’t a formal invite require an invitation card?” Martin asks back, propping his chin up on his hand, a curious tilt in his voice.

“I’ll get to that,” Tim replies, while he suppresses a smile that threatens to take over his face. “So, it’s a date?”

Martin closes his eyes, short enough to be mistaken with a blink, and says: “Yeah, it’s a date.” The aching in his chest makes him wish Tim would be a little less nice and a little more without ambiguity. Even though he wants it to be a romantic date, this is just a friendly outing with a guy claiming to be a witch.

Fortunately, Mischief Night (or Halloween as everyone else seems to call it) is a Saturday, which means that Tim can pick Martin up at his flat in Stockwell. Neither Tim nor Martin own a car, but Tim borrowed Danny’s well-loved VW Beetle and it’s only about thirty-seven kilometres until they reach Bocketts Farm.

Martin’s glad the midday fog has eased up, and the sun warms the skin on his forearms, since he rolled up the sleeves of his jumper. Tim is right beside him, his pointy hat decorated with probably fake cobwebs.

“I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t pick me up on your broomstick,” Martin says when they walk through the entrance of the farm. Despite the slight fear that Tim will take offence and abandon him on this farm, he feels comfortable enough to make a joke like this. He thinks he knows Tim well enough to know that Tim would tell him if he were overstepping any boundaries.

Tim’s answer is a little more defensive than Martin anticipated: “Flying is hard, okay. Usually, I ride shotgun.”

Martin gapes, for lack of a better word, and almost walks into a fencepost if it weren’t for Tim pulling him aside. Instead of letting go of Martin’s arm, Tim threads his own through and links them in the most casual way Martin has ever seen. This is nice. (Tim is nice.)

“What do you want to do first?” Tim inquires when Martin doesn’t say anything else. “I personally am inclined to start with apple-bobbing.” He points to a small group of people around a water filled barrel. Martin makes a noncommittal sound, shrugging his shoulders at the same time, and Tim steers him softly towards the event.

“Supposedly, the barrel symbolises the cauldron of rebirth,” Tim says while they walk the remaining distance. Martin casts a look in his direction. He’s a bit preoccupied with the thought that Tim wants him to stick his head into ice cold water to fish for an apple with his teeth, so he only says: “Makes sense.” Even though he’s not sure in what way rebirth is connected to divining the first letter of your future spouse’s name.

When they come to a halt in front of the barrel, it doesn’t take long until they have their turn. Tim yields to Martin and he sighs before he steps up the barrel, takes a deep breath and dives in. The water is freezing, tiny pinpricks on Martin’s skin, and it’s really, really hard to actually get his teeth on an apple because every time he touches on, it submerges and sideslips. (It’s frustrating. Like shelving books in the Magnus library is frustrating. He knows he got it right but in reality he doesn’t.)

It takes forever or at least it feels like forever, his face in cold water and his fingers in Tim’s hand. (Wait, when did Tim grab his hand? Did he grab Tim’s hand? Oh, he must have sometime between their arrival at the barrel and his endeavour to bob for an apple.) But then he catches a small one between his teeth and gets out of the water as fast as possible. Tim lets out a loud whistle and his free hand pats Martin’s shoulder in congratulation. Whereas Martin’s free hand gets rid of the water in his face and pulls the apple out of his mouth.

“This is terrible,” he says through a chuckle because he can’t be mad with the sun shining into his face like it’s late summer and not autumn. “It’s your turn.”

Martin has to let go of Tim’s hand because a member of staff hands a knife to him and he starts peeling the apple in one unbroken strip.

Apparently, Tim’s either more practiced in apple-bobbing or he’s really a witch and helped himself along with magic, because it takes him not nearly as long as Martin to catch an apple. He waits for Martin to finish peeling his apple and relieves Martin of the knife.

“You have to throw it over your left shoulder,” Tim explains earnestly. “It’s the side of the heart. It won’t work otherwise.”

“Makes sense,” Martin says, and it kind of does. Still he waits for Tim to finish peeling his own apple. Then they hand back the knife and stand side by side, throwing the peel on the count of three over their left shoulders.

“It looks like a T,” Tim says, when he catches sight of Martin’s apple peel, tapping the tip of his index finger against his chin.

Martin laughs, he's not entirely sure why but he can't stop himself. He replies: “It looks like a C, all of them look like Cs. And if they don’t, then they look like Os.” He points at Tim’s apple peel. “Look, yours looks like a C, too.”

“It’s just a tad short,” Tim retorts. “See, it started to form a small M but only came around to curve into a small N.” He laughs, too. “The apples have spoken, Martin. We’re destined for each other.”

“Well,” Martin says and he can’t shake the soft warmth that curls underneath his solar plexus, “if the apples say that, it must be right.”

They spend a good few hours on the farm, carving pumpkins and turnips, wandering through the maze and passing by goats and sheep and pigs, before they get to a bon fire Tim wants to sit down at to warm up a bit. The afternoon had been warm, but now that the sun has set cold creeps into their clothes and Tim complains about his between-season jacket. Martin who’s still warm despite the cold breeze gently extends his hand for Tim to hold.

For a few moments they fall quiet, only listening to the cracking of the fire.

But it doesn’t take long for Tim to reach into his pockets to fish for something and bring four conkers to light. He presents them to Martin and says: “Do you want to?” And Martin nods, only in part because Tim could ask anything of him and Martin would gladly do it.

They place their conkers in the flames respectively and when Martin’s first one cracks, Tim questions: “Did you name them?”

Martin shakes his head. Only a moment passes by, then:

“Did you name them?” Martin asks, and he doesn't look at Tim. His eyes are transfixed on the two conkers resting side by side. The left is already cracked. Tim doesn't look at Martin either, but he answers nevertheless: “I named both of them Martin. Didn't want to take the risk.”

And this, precisely, is the instant, Martin realises this could indeed be a date. A date date. A rendezvous Tim has asked him on, waiting for Martin to make a clear step towards him or not.

“Is this a date?” Martin blurts out, finally looking at Tim who ducks his head and blushes. He doesn’t want to sound incredulously, but the sheer ridiculousness of the situation sends his head spinning. A laugh bubbles out of his chest before he can stop it. “Tim, is this a date?”

“Well,” Tim starts and has the audacity to sound something akin to shy, “I thought it was a date. It was implied, I thought I explicitly said it was a date.” His gaze falls onto their joined hands. “I thought you knew we were dating.” Then he pales. “Oh, this is really awkward. I’m sorry.”

Tim attempts to let go of Martin’s hand, but Martin holds onto him.

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Martin says, the laugh still on his tongue. His chest feels lighter than ever and he can’t keep the bright smile off his face. “I wanted this to be a date, honestly. I just didn’t think it could actually be one.”

“Oh, that’s,” Tim clears his throat, finally looking back at Martin’s face, “that’s good. Nice. Toit.”

“Does this have deeper cultural meaning, too?” Martin asks after sitting between stacks of hay on top of a wagon. He’s not sure if he’s a tiny bit sarcastic or if he finally accepted Tim’s commitment for his aesthetic.

“No,” Tim replies, while he sits down cross-legged next to Martin. “I just think hayrides are neat.”

“I’ve never been on a hayride before,” Martin says, before he moves closer to Tim, so that his thigh slots underneath Tim’s knee. “It’s kind of romantic.”

“Is it?” Tim teases, leaning into Martin’s space with ease. “I didn’t notice.” Then he pauses for a second, his eyes flicking down to Martin’s lips. “As soon as the tractor starts it won’t be anymore, so if you want to use the magic of hayride romanticism to kiss me, you should do it now.”

Martin moves in closer, too, now he can feel Tim’s breath on his skin. He says: “So, hayrides are magical.” But Tim doesn’t answer him. Instead he closes the remaining distance between them and kisses Martin. (And maybe, only maybe, hayrides are magic.)

Their kiss only lasts for a few seconds before the engine of the tractor starts and the hayride begins. (They’re extremely lucky or magic is involved because they’re alone. The only other option is that hayrides are typically for children and their parents and it’s too late for them to participate. At this point, Martin doesn’t care. He’s surrounded by hay and Tim kissed him.)

Martin laughs breathlessly when they break apart because he catches sight of Tim almost losing his pointy hat due to the jolt of the wagon and says: “You’re right. Romance is dead.”

“My greatest virtue and my greatest curse is always being right,” Tim replies, readjusting the hat on his head. “I’m kind of glad tomorrow is the last day and I can take this thing off afterwards.”

For a second, Martin contemplates saying that Tim doesn’t have to wear it now. That if his aesthetic gets in the way of his everyday life, it’s alright to break out. But he doesn’t. Because this is nice, and he won’t tell Tim what to do. If Tim wants to wear a pointy hat, Tim gets to wear a pointy hat.

In search of changing the topic, Martin looks around the wagon and his gaze falls onto a small lantern at the back of the wagon. It’s supposed to be lit so that crossing folks can see the wagon; like the backlights of a bicycle or car. The lid isn’t fully shut, though, and the steady breeze of the moving wagon has extinguished the flame.

Martin pats his pockets from the outside, before he turns to Tim: “Do you have a lighter?”

Unfortunately, Tim shakes his head. More unfortunately, he says: “Doesn’t matter.” Then he leans forward, opening the lid fully and reaching into the lantern. The tip of his finger connects with the wick of the candle and by the time he pulls it back, the wick ignites and a small flame flickers to life.

Martin, once again, gapes. This is magic, Tim is a witch, Tim is a witch, o my fucking god.

“What?” Tim asks as he sits back down next to Martin.

“You’re a witch,” Martin says, and to his own surprise without the exact amount of disbelief he feels. “This is magic and you’re a witch.”

Tim smiles through his irritation and ripostes: “Martin, dear, I told you I’m a witch.”

“Yeah,” Martin responds and maybe he sounds as hysterical as he is, but this is ridiculous, “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“What did you think I meant every time I told you I was out with my coven?” Tim inquires bewildered, and everything about his demeanour suggests that he’s going to burst into laughter at any given moment.

“Honest?” Martin doesn’t wait for Tim to answer. “With all the essential oils I kinda thought it was a MLM.”

Tim furrows his eyebrows, the laughter dying on his tongue. They stare at each other and Tim says slowly: “My coven is not a group of Marxists who Love Marketing.” He stops dead in his tracks. “Men Loving Marketing?” Tim screws up his eyes. “I don’t know if you’re insinuating that I love men, that I’m a comrade or part of a pyramid scheme.” Before Martin can interject something, Tim says: “I’m working for the Magnus Institute, so where’s the lie?”

He pauses, then he says: “Witches are real, and you thought this is just a funny multilevel marketing meme.”

This breaks something lose in Martin and he honest to God starts giggling: “You’re terrible. Do you know that?”

“I’m doing my best,” Tim retorts, laughing as well.

After their laughter dies away, Martin says: “Is this why you said the institute is one pile of magical bullshit?” He thinks better of it. “Is this why you said the library isn’t conscious? Is it a witch who’s rearranging the shelves?”

It takes a moment for Tim to answer: “No, it’s a ghost.”

“A ghost is rearranging the shelves,” Martin repeats. “Okay, alright, sure. A ghost. Is there something else I should know about?”

“I don’t think so. His name is Jürgen, he died in the tunnels underneath the Institute and thinks it’s really funny to fuck with us.” Tim grabs Martin’s hand again. “You can talk to him and tell him to fuck off, though. Sometimes it works.”

Martin makes a noncommittal sound and lays his head on Tim’s shoulder even though their shoulders line up and it’s incredibly uncomfortable. This is weird and this is nice and they will have to talk about this, but their ride is almost over and Martin wants to bask for a few precious minutes in Tim’s silent company before they have to get off and head back.

Tim draws nonsensical shapes on the back of Martin’s hand with his thumb, and Martin feels content and warm and perhaps a little bewitched.

Before the ride ends, Martin asks: “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Tim says hesitantly, “we’re going to celebrate All Hallow’s Day. My coven’s going to light a fire to ward off evil spirits and ghosts. The ashes of All Hallow’s fire keep calamity at bay and we use it for augury.” He sounds apologetic. “But I could come by afterwards.”

And it’s the first time, Martin doesn’t hesitate or feels that his words are tinged with an exasperated confusion when he says: “Makes sense.” So he adds after a moment: “That would be lovely.”

#the magnus archives #martim #martin k. blackwood #tim stoker #tim stoker x martin blackwood #alternate universe #witch tim stoker #schmok writes #fanfiction #hhhh martim rights

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sunny-flower-girl-01 · 4 years

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Ohana- A Hawaii Five-0 Fanfic Chapter Two

Enjoy! Please let me know what you guys think!

I am switching up the POV in this chapter and will probably continue like this. If you have a specific POV you'd like to hear from the characters, let me know.

~~~~~~~~~~~

At the Palace-

"You what!" Danny screeched as they exited the elevator. After they figured out that their "suspect" was going to be no help, they headed back to the office. Thank God everyone else was out of the office at the moment. The last thing Steve wanted to deal with is everyone else finding out about this before he had a chance to process it himself. He had spit it out to Danny on their elevator ride up to the office.

A baby. Steve was gonna have a baby. Well, Thea was going to have a baby. Steve's baby. He sighed and walked straight into his office, ignoring Danny as he continued to ask him to repeat what he just said.

"I'm sorry, you got who, what? You got a girl pregnant?" Danny followed him into the office quickly. Steve sighed again and sank down into his chair, head in my hands.

"What am I gonna do, Danny? I barely know this girl. We hooked up once when we met at the bar at Side Streets! Hell, I never even told her my name! She called me out of the blue yesterday and told me she had to see me in person. That it was urgent. It took me a minute to even realize who she was." He ranted, leaning back into the chair and stared up at the ceiling. Danny, for once, was silent. He looked like he was thinking which was never a good thing. After a moment he finally spoke up.

"What's her name?"

"Thea Kenwood. Why?" Steve asked. Without saying a word, he got up and left Steve sitting in the office alone. "Where are you going?" He called after him. Not a minute later he was back and tossed a file down on the desk. "What is this?"

He sat down in the chair in front of the desk again. "Theodora, also known as Thea, Kenwood. I knew she looked familiar when I saw her at Kamekona's. Grace is best friends with her sister, Nora. She's going to a sleepover there this weekend so I thought I'd look into who was going to have my kid overnight." He said, leaning back in his chair. He pointed to the file on the desk. "That, is a complete background check on the woman you've impregnated."

Steve stared at the file. Everything he wanted to suddenly know about this women was sitting right on his desk. He would know just about her entire life if he looked into it. Normally, Steve would have immediately done his own research about this woman. But something told him he shouldn't do it. He needed to respect her privacy more than that.

Ignoring his own thoughts, Steve looked up at Danny. "Did you read it?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah. Are you?"

Steve pulled the file over to him, staring at it for a moment. He looked up at Danny and shook his head. "Anything important I need to know?"

Danny leaned back and shrugged. "28. A counselor and board member down at the Hawaiian Youth Center. She has custody of her little sister Nora, the one that's best friends with Grace. Nothing really stands out. Just a hard working girl trying to raise a 7 year old. "

Steve nodded, rubbing his hand over his face while he swiveled slightly in his car. Steve spoke softly. "I'm gonna be a dad." He looked at Danny with glossy eyes. His eyes widened then snapped shut. "Oh god, I'm gonna be a dad!" Steve dropped his head onto his desk. Danny laughed and threw his head back.

"Oh boy, Super Seal having his first freak out. I love it." Danny chuckled, throwing his hands up.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

After Danny's laughter dies down, they sit in silence for several minutes.

"She gave me an out." Steve said softly. Danny's head shot up.

"You didn't take it did you?"

Steve shook his head. "No! No, I... He pulled the ultrasound out of his pocket and looked at it for a moment before handing it to Danny. "A small part of me wanted to, but she gave that to me. How can I not be a part of my own child's life? I can't just go on with my life everyday knowing that my kids out there and I wasn't a part of their life!" Steve ranted, talking with his hands like his partner does.

Danny looked up from the ultrasound. He was remembering how he felt seeing Grace for the first time on the monitor that day in the doctors office. "Wait, are you mad she gave you an out?"

Steve sighed as he leaned back and rubbed his eyes. "No. I mean, I don't know. How could she possibly think that I wouldn't be there? That's my child too."

Danny shook his head. "No, Steve. I'm sure she didn't mean it like that. I mean you said so yourself. You barely know the girl. That means she barely knows you too. How the hell was she supposed to know you wouldn't just say, 'Oh that really sucks for you but I don't want anything to do with you or the baby.'" He put the ultrasound back on the desk. "That freak out you just had a moment ago, I'm sure she's been having a similar one. She had nothing to tell her that you wouldn't just leave her and that kid out to dry." Danny sighed, leaning back to cross his legs. "Look, I know finding out you're gonna be a father is scary. I was terrified when Rachel and I found out we were gonna have Grace. Hell, she's seven years old and I'm still scared every day. But hey," Danny stood and reached across the desk to pull Steve to his feet and into a bro-hug. "You're not gonna be alone. You know we got your back no matter what."

Steve smiled and returned Danny's hug. "Thanks Danno."

Danny pulled away in time for Steve to see the eye roll at the nickname. "And whether she knows it or not, we've got Theas back. So anything you guys need, just let us know. Speaking of, are you gonna tell the cousins today or wait a bit?"

"I think I'm going to wait a bit. I at least want to have another chat with Thea and let this all sink in some more." Steve said. He pulled out the other piece of paper that Thea gave him with the ultrasound. "She has an appointment today that she invited me to. She said if I couldn't make it it wasn't a big deal. Id like to try and make it, but by the looks of this case I wont be able to." He sighed. He really wanted to be able to be there. He just hoped that Thea wouldn't like his not being there as a sign that he didn't want to be involved. That was a conversation that he was going to have to have with her. His job was dangerous and demanding.

"What time is the appointment? They usually aren't that long so I don't see why you couldn't go." Danny asked him.

Steve glanced at the slip of paper. "11. Its just 9:30. I don't know if Ill be able to make it. But I told her I would call her later even if I wasn't able to show up."

Danny shook his head, following Steve towards the office door after they saw Chin and Kono walk into the offices. "I swear, I'm going to get you to that appointment. Trust me, they're more important than you think."

"Hey boss, we think we have a new lead on our suspect." Chin said, going to work on the tech table to pull up some surveillance footage.

"Alright, what do we have?"

The doctors office-

Thea sighed, plopping the magazine down on the table in front of her chair in the waiting room. The wait was going on 30 minutes and the seated were extremely uncomfortable, even for non-pregnant women, Thea imagined. Finding a better doctors office was on her list of things to do today before she had to pick Nora up from school. Mindy was supposed to meet her after this for lunch so she could get her recommendations, but also so she could finally tell her who the father was. This was a conversation Thea was dying to have with her best friend.

She was also going to have to have a conversation with Rachel. Through the girls, the women have gotten pretty close. Rachel offered to help out with Nora whenever Thea needed help. Rachel told her that she remembered how exhausting it was to still work while pregnant and she couldn't imagine having to go through this alone, regardless of the father's help with the baby or not. She told Thea that everyone needs a support system and to not hesitate to call if she needed anything or just wanted to talk to someone who has been there.

Thea was thankful to have a wonderful support group. Between Mindy, Rachel, all her friends at work, and now from the sounds of it, Steve. She was finally starting to feel better about this pregnancy.

Thea smiled to herself and leaned back in the waiting room chair. Right as she was starting to get comfortable, her name was called. She made small talk with the nurse as they walked back to the exam room.

"So I hear were at 12 weeks already!" The nurse said excitingly. "Will the father be joining us today?" It was a routine question, her nurse last week had asked her the same thing.

"No, he's stuck at work. Its just me today." Thea said, smiling friendly at the nurse. It felt nice to be able to say that and actually mean it this time. She had used the same excuse on her visit a few weeks ago. She really hadn't expected Steve to come today but felt like she owed it to him to have the option.

"Aw, okay. Well, well make sure we get some good pictures of the little one for him to see." The nurse smiled and let Thea into the exam room. "Okay, if you'll just change into the top laid out on the table, then lay down, I will be right back to get started."

Thea nodded and waited for the nurse to leave before quickly changing into the paper like shirt. She groaned at how sensitive her boobs were rubbing against the thin fabric. She had already turned to wearing sports bras on most days since regular wired bras just weren't comfortable anymore. And she didn't see it getting any better for the rest of her pregnancy.

She hopped up on the table, trying her best not to mess up the paper that was laid across it. She leaned back and closed her eyes so she could try and get comfortable.

'Goddamn, the chairs and tables are made of bricks.' She thought to herself.

There was a knock on the door that startled her a little. "Uh, come in." Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Steve poke his head in the door.

"Is it okay that I come in?" He asked, opening the door up a little more to walk in.

Thea smiled softly at him. She hadn't expected him to show up today. "Yeah of course. I just didn't think you were going to be able to make it." She watched him walk in and close the door behind him. He walked over to the exam table and glanced down at her small bump that was much better to see in the top she was wearing now than the one she had on this morning.

"Yeah, I didn't think I was going to either. I have to get back to work after this, but I really wanted to be here so Danny and I made a pit stop." He said.

Before Thea could respond to him, there was another knock at the door and the nurse came into the room.

"Alrighty lets- Oh! Hello! You must be the father?" She smiled at Steve, a bit flirtier than Thea liked. She had no claim to Steve, so she didn't know why the nurse grinning at Steve like that irked her so much. They were going to be co-parents, that's it.

Steve politely smiled at the woman. "Uhm, yeah. Yeah I'm the father." He said, looking down at Thea, who was still looking at the nurse with a slight indifference. As a cop and SEAL, Steve picked up on it quickly, but Nurse Amanda, as the woman just introduced herself, didn't seem to notice the sudden change.

"Alrighty then, well, lets get started and see how your little one is doing." She pulled the monitor over to her. "Lift your shirt up to your chest," She motioned to Thea. "And I'm going to put some gel on. Fair warning its a little cold.

Thea pulled her shirt up to right under her boobs. She glanced up at Steve who was looking like a nervous wreck. Thea couldn't help but laugh a little bit.

"What?" Steve asked, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since he walked into the exam room. His green eyes met her amused ones.

"A Navy SEAL and a cop, and you look like you're about to faint." She giggled.

"I prefer the term, pass out, and no I'm not. I'm fine. Its just.." He trailed off, looking at the wand Nurse Amanda had in her hand. She pressed it to Theas abdomen gently and spread the blue gel around.

Thea took Steve's hand and squeezed it gently. This was her second ultrasound but she remembered how scared and nervous she was. "I know." She smiled softly. They both looked over at the nurse to see her turning the monitor around for them to see.

"Looks like the babies are doing great!" She exclaimed.

Theas head snapped away from the monitor and to the nurse. "The what?" Her eyes were wide. She was having one baby, not two.

"The babies. You're having twins!" She looked at the shocked faces of Steve and Thea. "Did you not know?"

"Does this look like the face of someone who knows she's having twins?!" Thea said loudly, causing Steve to snap out of the shock he was in. This morning he found out that he was about to be a father of a child. And now two. Theas hand was still in his, squeezing harder and harder.

"I'm not having twins. My last ultrasound showed ONE baby. ONE." She said.

The nurse moved the monitor over more so they could see. "One baby was probably well hidden behind the other, or was just not able to be seen on the screen. Lets see," She hit a few buttons on the screen then the sound of two rapid heartbeats came through the speakers. "There. There's the heart beats."

Thea opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Her eyes began to water up. Steve pulled one of the chairs over to sit next to her. His eyes never left the screen where he saw the two babies that Amanda had pointed out. He wrapped his other hand around his and Theas joined hands and lifted it to his lips, squeezing them gently. Thea squeezed back, looking over at him. She tried to hide the smile she had on her face but she couldn't.

"Twins would explain the all day morning sickness and the fainting spell you said you had earlier in your pregnancy. I'll take a couple pictures for you, then the doctor will be in."

Steve pulled their hands away. "Fainting spell?" He questioned Thea.

Thea used her other hand to wipe the few tears she had. "Uh, yeah. I was on my way up to my apartment one day with Mindy and I fainted outside my door. I thought it was just the heat and the long sleeved shirt I was wearing plus with how sick I had been feeling. After that Mindy kept asking if I was pregnant. A few days later I took a few tests. She looked at Steve. He had a look on his face, a worried look. It was only one time, I'm on my vitamins now and I'm careful about the heat." She gave his hand another squeeze.

Amanda said they would have the pictures for them at sign out and excused herself from the room.

Steve and Thea sat in silence, both thinking about what just happened.

~~~~~~~~~

After typing in this POV I'm not too sure how I like it, but I wanted to get this chapter out in time. I might come back and retype it later.

Please let me know what you guys think!! I really appreciate the feedback!

#steve mcgarrett #steve mcgarrett imagine #Hawaii Five 0 #hawaii five o imagine #danny williams #danny danno williams #grace williams #rachel edwards #mindy shaw #kono kalakaua #chin ho kelly #five 0 #mcgarrett

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damianwaynerocks · 4 years

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Tim Drake & The Good Samaritan

hi i wrote something on ao3 so here it is

Description: Tim Drake tries to kill himself, whenever a therapist just so happens to stumble upon him. Tim opens up to her and realizes that maybe he's worth more than he thinks.

Warning: Suicide attempt, depression

dedicating this to @super-sons-a-bitches bc what a supportive mutual

He was done.

Tim Drake was done.

He'd known for a while what was true and what was not. Was he a good son? Not true. Was he simply a placeholder between Jason and Damian? True. Did anybody truly love him? Not true. Was he simply a burden? True.

Did he deserve to be alive? Definitely not true.

Tonight had been the last straw.

It had been him, Damian and Dick. They were going to bust a human trafficking operation. Tim had been paying attention, he would swear that up and down, but it wasn't enough. He had accidentally kicked a rock, and the traffickers noticed right as they started to pull into Gotham Harbor. With a yell of several crew members, the ship turned back around, into the open sea.

Where the brothers could not get them.

Damian was furious. "You incompetent fice!" he had snarled, "We almost had them! We were going to save fifty women and children, Drake, fifty!"

"You should've been more careful," Dick added, his arms crossed, "You scared them off." Dick never scolded like this. He only did it whenever he was truly upset.

And it was Tim's fault.

"I'm sorry!" he said, Dick clenched his jaw.

"Go home, Red Robin," he ordered. Tim stepped back.

"Good riddance, we'll be much better off without you, Drake," Damian sneered.

We'll be much better off without you.

Those were the words ringing in Tim's ears as he swung from building to building. The wind was whistling through his hair, and usually, it invigorated Tim.

But not tonight.

Tonight, it just reminded him of what he didn't deserve.

All he did was mess things up. He'd messed things up with Stephanie. He'd messed up not only this mission but countless missions beforehand. He'd even messed up his goddamn immune system, now that he didn't have a spleen.

Tim knew he wasn't enough. He wasn't enough to make his father, Jack Drake, proud of him. He wasn't enough to make his other father, Bruce Wayne, proud of him either. He wasn't good enough to be Robin, either. Dick had made that clear whenever he'd ripped the title away from him as soon as he laid eyes on Damian, even after he had tried to kill Tim.

Dick probably wished that Damian had succeeded, Tim thought, because Dick would have his Robin, and nobody would have to deal with Tim.

Tim decided at that moment that he was going to take it upon himself to finish what Damian hadn't been able to do.

He was going to kill himself.

Tim landed on the roof of an apartment building. He took out his earpiece, which doubled as a tracking device, throwing it on the ground and stomping on it. If he was going to die, he at least wanted to do it without Damian's voice in his ear.

How to do it? Tim thought. He knew some heroes kept cyanide pills on them in case they were ever captured, but Bruce had refused to allow that. Tim could jump off of the roof, but he was worried that he'd lose his nerve and grapple to safety before he could reach the ground.

There was only one way that he could think of.

Tim pulled off his gloves one at a time, letting them land on the ground. He took a Batarang, razor-sharp, out of his utility belt, and held it to his wrist. He took a deep breath, excited. He would finally be free. He would be free from the pain, from the knowledge that he was worthless. Better yet, his family would be free of him.

We'll be much better off without you.

With a small smile, Tim started to slide the blade across his wris-

"No!"

Tim whirled around, now poised to throw the Batarang. Hey, just because Tim was going to die, didn't mean he was going to let someone else die first. His eyes slid around the rooftop, looking for danger, but he only saw a woman.

She looked to be around Bruce's age, but there was something about her that was completely different than Bruce; her eyes had feeling in them.

"Please don't do it, Red Robin," the woman urged, "Please. Please stay."

"No," Tim replied stiffly. The woman took a deep breath.

"Okay," she said slowly, "But will you please have a cup of tea with me first? It isn't every day I get to meet a hero.

A hero. She thought he was a hero.

But she was wrong.

Before he could stop himself, he had thrown himself in her arms. She wrapped them around him, holding him tightly.

Tim gripped the lady's shoulders as hard as he dared- God, he didn't even know her name and he was crying on her shoulder -as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently. Tim shakes his head, choking back another sob.

"I don't want to think about it anymore," he croaked. The woman nodded.

"Okay," she said, "Then are you any good at geometry?"

Tim sniffed, then replied, "Yeah." The woman smiled.

"Would you mind helping my son, then? He's a freshman at Southwest High, and he's having trouble with his homework right now. And I think you could really help him."

You could really help him.

Tim nodded, shakily stepping back from the woman. She smiled warmly, grasping his hand as she led him off of the roof and down the stairs. "My name's Emira," she introduced herself, "But you can call me Emma. All of my friends do."

Friend.

"My name's-" he broke off, unsure of what he should say. Emma seemed to understand his hesitation.

"You don't have to tell me your real name," she assured him, "How about I call you Red?" Tim smiled weakly, and Emma took that to mean he agreed. "Alright, Red, here's the door." she fished a key out of her pocket, and opened the door to her apartment, Tim following.

The first thing he noticed was the Cross. There was a portrait of Jesus Christ on the Cross sitting above their table.

The table which had a young boy, around Damian's age, sitting at it, his brows scrunched in concentration.

"Hey, Danny!" Emma said, flashing her son a brilliant smile, "I found you a tutor!"

"Mom, I don't need a-" Danny stopped talking as he turned around, his jaw dropped. "Red Robin!?" he squeaked, "You're my favorite hero! And you're in my house!" he jumped up, smiling so wide it was almost unsettling, "You're the coolest! Holy crap!"

You're the coolest.

"Hi, Danny!" Tim greeted, putting on the smile he used for paparazzi. "It's nice to meet you! So your mom says you need help with geometry?"

It took ten minutes, but Emma and Tim finally wrangled Danny to the table, where Tim was now helping him.

"See, you just gotta remember SohCahToa," Tim explained, "It's the easiest way to remember sine, cosine, and tangent."

Danny stuck his tongue out slightly in a way that reminded him of Damian. Tim's heart sank at the realization, all of his positive feelings sank with it.

We'll be much better off without you.

"Thanks, Red Robin!" Danny said excitedly after he'd finished his assignment and Tim had double-checked it, making sure that all of the answers were correct.

"Okay, Danny," Emma spoke up from where she'd been silently watching the two, "It's eleven. Time for bed."

"But Mom Red Robin is here-"

"You know what else is here? A big test tomorrow. You need your sleep."

Danny sighed, before looking at Tim and fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Do you mind if we take a picture? My friends will never believe I met the coolest of the Bat People!"

The coolest of the Bat People.

"Of course, Danny!" Tim replied, ruffling the kid's hair. After five minutes of multiple selfies on Snapchat, Danny gave Tim a hug, which Tim returned without hesitation.

"Goodnight!" Danny chirped and walked to what Tim presumed to be his bedroom.

After hearing the door shut, Emma turned to the hero. "Now, how do you like your tea?"

"Earl Gray, please."

As Emma set the kettle on the stove, she turned back to Tim. "He adores you," she said, referring to her son, "He wasn't lying. You mean so much to him."

You mean so much to him.

Tim sighed, putting his head in his hands. "Yeah, well, he's the only one then," he muttered. Emma waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, she spoke.

"I'm a therapist, you know," she stated, "So I can't tell anybody anything you say. HIPPA violation, jail time, huge fine and all that."

"This isn't an official session, so it doesn't apply."

Emma shrugged. "Maybe not legally, but if anybody gets wind of me telling anybody anything someone tells me in confidence, my clients will stop trusting me and stop coming, So my point's still there."

Tim bit his lip, looking up. This woman didn't know who he was, and judging from the average apartment, she had no connections to Bruce, which meant she wouldn't tell him- not that he'd care, of course, but still. Besides, it isn't like he'd ever see her again. "Maybe... maybe it wouldn't hurt."

Emma smiled warmly. "I promise, it won't," she turned back to the kettle as it whistled, and she poured the tea into two cups. Walking over to the table, she handed one to Tim, before sitting down herself. "Can I ask what led up to tonight?"

Tim looked down at his tea, not meeting her eyes. "I messed up bad tonight," he whispered, "Real bad."

"What do you think you did?"

"I-" Tim swallowed a gulp, "Nightwing and Robin and I were going to bust a human trafficking ring. Their ship was about to pull into the harbor, but I wasn't being careful enough. I knew they had motion detectors around the area, but I still wasn't paying attention enough not to kick a rock," He ran a hand through his hair, "And of course they saw, and they got away. And it was my fault."

"Who told you that it was your fault?"

"Nightwing and Robin."

Emma reached across the table to clasp his left hand in her right. "Tell me, Red, has Nightwing or Robin ever messed up a mission?"

Tim paused. There was one time where Dick was arguing with Jason, and Dick pushed Jason into the warehouse they were staking out, ruining any chance at catching a serial rapist for months. And then there was the time where Damian had been too hasty and let a serial killer get away because he refused to listen for Nightwing's signal. "Yeah, a few times," Tim finally said.

"See?" Emma said with another one of her warm smiles, "They aren't perfect either. So why do you have to be?"

They aren't perfect either.

"Because!" Tim groaned, "Batman chose them. He wanted them to be apart of the hero business. Me? I forced him to make me Robin. Nobody chose me. I wasn't wanted!"

"How old were you when you became Robin?"

"Like, eleven."

"Do you honestly think that Batman couldn't have simply wiped an eleven-year old's brain and sent him home if he didn't see something special in you?"

See something special in you.

Tim took a sip of his tea. "I... I guess not. But still! The Robin before me had just... quit. Batman probably just used me as a distraction from the pain of it. I was just a placeholder."

Emma took a sip of her own tea, thinking. "A placeholder? Because there's a new Robin?"

"Yes," Tim confirmed, "Exactly. I was Robin for a while, but as soon as Batman and Nightwing found someone else who had already been trained, who was Batman's... nephew," he paused, "They got rid of me! They made me stop being Robin! Nightwing retired, the other one quit, but me? I didn't have a choice!"

"And why do you think that-"

"And the worst part!?" Tim interrupted her, "This new kid? He tried to kill me! He had a sword and he was trying to kill me because he thought he deserved the title just because he was Batman's nephew! And he never got in trouble for it! They rewarded him with what he wanted!" he stopped nervously. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you." Emma waved her hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about it," she paused she took a sip of her tea, "Do you think there could be any possible reason as to why they made him Robin?"

Tim snorted. "Yeah, I know exactly why. They liked him better than me. He was better than me at fighting. He wasn't as scared as I was at first," he laughed bitterly, "Honestly, Emma? I think the reason they rewarded him was because he had the guts to do what the others were too apprehensive to do; get rid of me."

"Can I tell you what I think might have had something to do with it?" Emma asked, and Tim nodded his permission. "It sounds like this new Robin has a lot of rage. Do you think that maybe Batman and Nightwing knew that he needed an outlet for that and that the safest way to do that might be if they could keep an eye on him?"

"I... guess," Tim admitted begrudgingly, "But still! They didn't punish him or anything!"

"How are you so sure? Did you see what happened after?"

Tim bit his lip again. "I mean, not really? I left whenever Nightwing told me I couldn't be Robin anymore." he shook his head. "Even if maybe Nightwing didn't see any other way, that doesn't explain why they treat me like shit now."

"How so?" Emma asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Like, I'll be gone on a mission for weeks and when I get back, they hadn't even noticed I was gone!" Tim counted off the reasons on his fingers, "Or when it's clear I'm upset, nobody bothers to ask! And nobody ever reprimands Robin for all the terrible things to me! And all Batman does it tell me what I do wrong!"

"What things does Robin say to you?"

"Oh, you know," Tim rolled his eyes, "That I'm useless. That I'm slow. I’m abysmal. Just today, like an hour ago, he said that everyone would be better off if I was gone. I hate that he has this much power over me, but his words won't leave my head; we'll be much better off without you."

"Well, I can tell you right now that Danny wouldn't be," Emma said, "Because if he had failed that assignment, he would've gotten detention, and I wouldn't have time to pick up his new inhaler."

"Danny has asthma?" Tim asked with a frown. Emma nodded.

"Yes, but it's okay now because I'll be able to get the medicine. Now, back to you. Do you think that the reason Robin is so mean to you is that he's insecure?"

"Robin? Insecure?" Tim snorted, "As if. He's the most arrogant person I know."

"The most insecure people are almost always the most arrogant. Is there anything he would have to be insecure about? Maybe that... he's intimidated by you?"

That made Tim laugh out loud. Damian? Intimidated by Tim? Never. "Definitely not."

"Are you sure? Because it sounds like he just wants to prove that he's just as good as you," Emma countered, "Or maybe- not saying that it's your fault because you definitely don't deserve to be treated like that-"

You don't deserve to be treated like that.

"Maybe you haven't tried to show him that you don't want to be enemies?"

Tim took a sip of his tea. "I mean, yeah, I don't want our relationship to be like this. I'd love to be close to him. I was so excited when I first heard about him- before I met him, obviously -because I was finally getting a younger brother."

"Have you ever let him know that?"

"I guess not," Tim said with a frown, "But it doesn't really matter. He won't care. None of them will, even if they did know I'm hurting."

"Why don't you try?" Emma offered, "It couldn't hurt, right?"

"Yeah, except then they'll think I'm even weaker than they thought. They'll think I'm pathetic, and then Batman will make me stop being Red Robin, too." His grip around his cup tightened. "And then they'd kick me out. And I live with Batman, Emma. I don't have a place to go."

"You could come here," Emma offered, "I really don't think they'd kick you out, but if you're right, you are absolutely welcome here. I promise. You're wonderful company, Red."

You're wonderful company.

Tim sighed. "Thanks, that means a lot, but you don't have to lie," his bottom lip trembled, "I know I'm worthless. I don't matter. All I do is screw up."

The pair were silent for a minute, the only noise being Tim's tears falling into his cup of tea. Emma was the first one to break the silence.

"Say, do you happen to be the first Robin that wore pants?"

Tim sniffled. "Yeah." Emma's face broke into another warm smile.

"Well, that Robin saved my life. Two men were dragging me into an alley, whenever you stopped them. Without Batman, I might add."

Tim blinked. "Without Batman?" he whispered.

Emma nodded. "Without Batman. All on your own, Red. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be dead, and Danny would be an orphan."

Tim smiled weakly. "It wasn't a problem, really."

"I know it wasn't, because that's what you do. You save people," she gave him another reassuring squeeze. "Now, Red, have you ever been in a position where Batman or Nightwing saved you?"

That's what you do. You save people.

"Yeah," Tim answered, once again not meeting her eyes, "I was locked in a warehouse. A bomb was strapped to me, about to go off. Batman came in and- and I've never seen him like that. So... a mess," he paused, "I haven't thought about that in a while. I guess that means he cares."

"That definitely means he cares," Emma corrected him. Tim smiled, but it was replaced by a frown as he began to sob again.

"Maybe he did then, but now- now he has his new Robin. He doesn't care, none of them do," he blinked back tears, "I don't have anything to look forward to. My days are filled with insults and complaints. There's nothing good." His hands shaking, he took another sip of his Earl Gray.

"Then look forward to this," Emma said, "Every week. Eat dinner with Danny and I, and then when he goes to bed we can drink tea and talk some. And if you ever, and I mean ever, need a place to crash, you can always come here."

If Tim thought he'd run out of tears before, he was wrong. He started crying again. Nobody had been so nice, so warm to him, in years.

Emma got up and enveloped him in another hug. "Will you promise me something, Red?" she whispered, and at Tim's nod, she continued. "Promise me you'll tell your family how you feel, okay? And promise me you'll come back and tell me next week. And if you need something from me between then and now, promise me that you'll come, okay?"

"I promise," Tim agreed, sobbing into her shirt.

The next thirty minutes were spent with Tim wrapped up in Emma's arm, still in full Red Robin uniform minus the gloves, watching Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. Tim hadn't been so at peace in as long as he could remember. His mom had always been distant, and Catwoman wasn't exactly a mother figure, so honestly? Being curled up in Emma was the closest he'd ever gotten to feeling a mother's love.

He would go back to the Manor after the movie, he told himself. He would tell them how he felt. He would try to mend his relationship with Damian. But first, he was going to soak in the feeling of a mother's embrace.

He was still nervous about it, but little did he know. Little did he know that Dick would break down crying and hug him, whispering apology after apology into his ear. Little did he know that Bruce would be riddled with guilt because how could he not have noticed that his son was hurting and would tell him he loved him so much. Little did he know that Damian, although he didn't show how much he regretted his harsh words, would shake Tim's hand and agree to try. Little did he know that every Thursday after he would have dinner and tea with Emma and Danny, to the point that he would reveal his secret identity to the family and make sure that Danny was enrolled at Gotham Academy. Little did he know that it wouldn't take long for Emma to start seeing him as another son, and she would not be scared to tell him how much she loved him and how proud of him she was.

Tim would find out these things later. But for now?

Tim just let himself sink into a mother's embrace.

#in honor of mental health awareness month #tim drake #depressed tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam #batfamily fanfic #tim drake fanfic #tim drake needs therapy #sucide tw #damian's a shit but we still love him #depressed! tim drake

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lockdownuk · 4 years

Text

Lockdown Diary Part 2

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 31: I went to Tesco’s at Hampton at @8pm. It was weird. But I made it less weird by buying (amongst all the legit stuff I needed and some stuff for Karen’s mum) more booze. I have, atm about 30 assorted cans and 60 assorted bottles. I’m gonna stop buying booze now until I’m down to the last dozen. I don’t want owt to happen and I leave many behind!

Day 32: More than a calender month! I was rung up by a recruitment agent today about a contract with DHL as a remote support engineer to their aviation section. €400 a day! I’ve applied. Few beers tonight, watching a new Netflix release (Extraction) and catching up with Fog, Ham, Andy and Rog later at 10:30pm - yikes, might be pissed.

Day 33: Typing this on day 34. Dossed around during the day, few beers and another video call with fog, Ham and Rig plus I invited John Monk along. He was his usual self and signed off from the call with a moonie! Later on I had the pleasure of Scottish Louise video calling me! She was pissed, in her shed drinking den at her home with some neighbour called Ronnie and her daughter Ellie. She was her usual outrageous self who imaprted such gems as “Tim, you look old” and “Roger on coke is the only time I’ve taken it up the arse”. Nice.

Day 34: Today I skyped Laurie and ‘met’ Matthew and Nicholas for the first time. It was bloody fantatsic. Janine was there as well.I cannot believe it takes lockdown (plus an idea to get Laurie to add me to his regular Monday skype chat with Dad) that managed to get us doing something that should have happened years ago! It was so great to talk to them all face-to-face. Janine hasn’t changed a bit, Matthew is very quiet with Nicholas being the more gregorious twin. And Laurie is still Laurie. I’m reminded of how much I sort of miss him! It was all so comfortable. I loved it! Tomorrow is Dad’s 85th hence the 3-way chat idea. I hope it comes off!

Day 35: So dad and Laurie and I skyped. It was OK but my video feed was very dark, (still dunno why) and Lauire’s kept freezing. I dropped out so as to leave them to it, my thinking being the extra person takes up bandwidth, with the promise I’d call dad later. Before I could, Rita called me and suggested Dad and I skype, which we did. So, all in all, a good day of comms! And Dad seems his happy usual self - 85 years old! Amazing.

Day 36: I am really struggling to motivate myself this week. Today, I’ve done fuck all of note. That is all.

Day 37: A similar day to yesterday. All I have really managed to do is lay down audio from Pink Floyd (Absolutely Curtains) to a video I shot of a cow on yesterday’s walk. I am having a downer of a week without any good reason why, ld aside. I have worn my new walking boots today (’cos my old ones are leaking, I found out yesterday) and they fucking hurt, despite having tried to wear them in for months, albeit pathetically. Also, a few days ago (Friday 24th April), I got notification from HM Revenue & Customs that I’m getting tax rebate (from 2018-19) of £392. Yay!

Day 38: I received notification today that I’ve got a speeding ticket…last Thursday back from Tesco’s - 87mph somewhere between the A1 and Elton. I am hoping it’s a fixed penalty. I dunno whether it is yet, I just have to send the form off confirming it’s my car and I was driving. I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords asking her to ask for a rent reduction before I sign for another year. Plus, I let her know that I will be Howard and Sue’s eyes as the look at rental properties in Oundle - I do hope they return although it would be a shame for them that their plans have been scuppered (she’s lost her job in Oz due to Covid-19)

Day 39: Today I started another piece of exercise - up and down the stairs 26 times. Not sure why 26 - it was some thing online to do with the London Marathon, I think. It fucking killed. I used 13 clothes pegs for a counting system. I asked Karen to pick up some stuff when she was shopping (burgers, radishes) - Dan dropped them off, He was with Shaggy (driving his van) and going to see Jonah. That pisses me off - they should be social distancing, ffs.

Discoevered, today, that Cornershop, post-Brinful are fucking excellent. listening to the album ‘England is a Garden’ as I type.

Day 40: That 26 times up and down the stairs is fucking hard. I did videos about it today. My legs are aching like fuck right now.

Day 41: Just done Young Sam’s (Sam Clews) quiz. 3rd week running and it’s now become a habit and something I look forward to. Out of all the internet driven socialising I’m undertaking in ld, this is the weirdest - I feel totally detatched from all others taking part but, now, would feel pissed off if I didn’t or couldn’t join in. I got 47/70 this week. My best score and only about 8 off the winning score - most others aren’t doing it on their own!

Today’s walk was a cloudy one - I captured some fine, dramatic pics of the clouds. I am getting into this photography lark, albeit very amateurish. But, when I post any pics online (mostly FB), they seem to be widely appreciated, which is nice.

Day 42: Applied for a remote service delivery job with a firm called TTEC. £60k. Finished watching The Outsider. The creepiest TV show I have seen in years. Really great use of background music.

Day 43: Finished Mindhunter S2 last night. It’s so good but I cannot quite put my finger on why. Today has been a nothing day apart from day 2 of me not typing the letter ‘e’ in any post or comments on FB for a week. It’s hard.

Day 44: Watch Anna last night. A Luc Besson film that starts a kick-ass suprermodel. It’s right down my street. Today I have been lazy af. I need to pick up my online learning again…tomorrow, maybe! I watched Andy Murray Resurfacing. A documentary on Amazon. Fantastic. What a top man he is. Completely human and completely inhuman!

Day 45: Much talk in the news of possible lockdown relaxation. I am off the opinion we should stay the course until we are completely assured of beathing this thing i.e. a working, widely available vaccine. Dad and I Skyped - he is doing well, as usual. So is Rita. They both seem very happy in lockdown! Today has been a glorious day, weather wise. I had my walkk at 10ish this morming and it was very warm. Hottest day of the year so far I reckon.

Day 46: Bank holiday Friday (75th anniversary of VE day). Nice walk. Chat with Karen letting her know about being caught speeding just in case I am banned and need some out of town shopping. Watched second episode of DEVS by Alex Garland. It’s good and intriguing. Now, @7pm, gonna eat and hit the beers and smokes.

Day 47: Typing this at 15:45 on day 48. I had lots of beers and a good old chat with Rog…

Day 48: Today’s daily press conference was eagerly anticipated today with rumours of a relaxation in lockdown. It seems it was a fuss about nothing with no clear instructions - I didn’t watch it but, skimming the BBC news site, I shan’t be doing anything different over the next few weeks, not that I would anyway - furlough and self isolation are the order of the day and I won’t change that until I am sure it’s safe. Meanwhile people, including Danny flaunt the rules, it’s been pointed out to me plus I know he spends time with Jonah and Marc. It really fucks me off. So, the actions of the few mean I will lock myself down for as long, if not longer, as it takes. Attended Sam Clews quiz again. It passes the time. Also, I had half a scotch bonnet chilli with tea tonight (roasted veg, cous cous and sausages). Ridiculously hot!

Day 49: Received the speaker I ordered a few days ago (from eBay). It’s an AudioPro Addon T10. I got it for a very reasonable price from a German shop. As a result, the power lead isn;t three pin and that has seriously fucked me right off!

Meanwhile, I did my 26 stair climb before my daily walk today. It was easier than usual (surprise surprise) and I did 7km - but that was tough! ‘Cos I am on (yet another) free trial of Amazon Prime, I am ramping up watching stuff available. Last night I watched Booksmart - really nice little film with a great soundtrack. I am listening to Dan the Automater as I type. Today I watched half (3 eps) of The Night Manager and the film ‘The Founder’. The former is a superb series, the latter an OK film about Ray Kroc - the supposed founder of McDonald’s. Except he wasn’t; he was the wrong side of ambitious and a cunt.

Day 50: Stripped the 2 pin cable from the speaker I received yesterday and wired up a 3 pin plug and it worked. Win. And it sounds great. Win-win. Went to go shopping in Hampton but the car wouldn’t start. Loss. But it was the battery so I managed to borrow Karen’s jump starter which worked. Win.

Spent £107. Loss. But just under £40 was booze plus £10 for two big pizzas, two sides (dirty fries) and some dips. Win. Didn’t do any online learning - seriously fucking letting myself down. Loss.

Did my usual walking and 26 stair climb. The latter is hard but defo getting easier. Win. Day 51: Sam’s 51st birthday on day 51 - coincidence! Today I received my face mask from Lou - House of Stewart tartan. I’m pleased with it and that I have got a mask now. I managed to get up at a reasonable hour, just left 09:00, and revisit my web design course. Module 1, lesson 5 and I am fucking stuck. Trying to code an online CV with a side nav bar and I cannot get it to fucking work. Grrrrrr. Later, i got into a FB dispute (easily distracted due to the above) with someone over his statement of fact (Tim Martin’s treatment of Whetherspoons’ employees) when he doesn’t know it’s fact. It probably is, but that is not the fucking point. I wish I could leave these sort of spats alone. I am drinking, at 20:45, peppermint tea as I type. Jeez, what’s happened to me?

Day 52: Well, last night took a swift chnage. Rog message me and, to cut a long story short, I hit the beers, also called Foggy later, got trashed. I got up today at gone 1pm. Sam posted on fb that Paul had forgort her birthday yesterday. Oh dear! The 26 stair climb and walking each day is noticeable for how knackered my legs feel all the time, I noticed today!

Day 53: My birthday! Nice comments and banter of FB. Rachael brought round a bottle of whisky; gobsmacked. Karen popped round some beers and sausage rolls. Sam sent a card, as did dad with a £50 cheque. Dan’s ordering me a pizza later.

Chuffed! Day 54: I went to bed late after a lot of beers, huge pizza and chips, a few smokes and a long call with WWJ and video chats with Fog then Rog. Got up around 1pm and dossed with my usual exercises and I made fish pie with a scotch bonnet. Day 55: Late one last night but up early today (11ish). Really fretting about hospital tomorrow. Nervous anyway but the safety aspect, in terms of Covid-19, isn’t helping.

Day 56: Hospital appointment was just for an eye scan so the consultant can review it. I was very surprised to see how few people were wearing face masks! I did two lots of washing today. (After the hospital) I went to Morrsions, Asda (queue too long though), B&M (queue too long though) then Tesco’s. All to buy a baseball cap ‘cos I’m fucked if I’m going to wet my hair each time I go out and want it to look presentable! In Morrsions (no mens’ clothing apart from underwear!) I stocked up of 10 cans of sugarfree apple Caraboa….I was only thinking of this drink just the other day. Yesterday I finished The Night Manager on Amazon. I liked it a lot but, also, expected much, much more from it consdiering the hype. Hugh Laurie has come a long way from comedy sketches with Stephen Fry!

Day 57:Received an email from Sueanne yesterday asking ( as designated spokesperson for everyone) how I am. The most interestring piece of news in a rather uninformative email was that the US has started to open resorts!

Day 58: I am writing this on Day 59. I started a two walk a day regime. The first walk I do is shorter, around 4km. my aim is to be ready for 1,000,000 steps Diabetic UK challenge (throughout July, August and September). I need to do just under 11,000 steps a day. The relaxation in ld rules makes this achievable. On that score, I am allowed to visit a friend’s house, as long as it’s just the two of us, outside, 2m apart. I went round Karen’s last night. I was desperate to have a Happy Hour (I allow myself a midweek beer - today (well, yesterday) is/was Wednesday!) of sorts with another human (rather than a video chat). I was there for about 2 hours, very enjoyable, and then came home. Then I had usual roasted veg with rice and sausages but I couldn’t eat it. I used half a scotch bonnet rather than the usual birdeye chillis. It was too hot, had to sling it! Had a few more beers and, hence, neglected my diary duties!

Day 59: It’s 01:20am. I don’t know why I am still awake and up, but I am. But, also, I am now going to bed. Nothing else to report, really.

Day 60: Half way through 12 weeks furlough. I was discussing this with Dad and Rita earlier - I am expecting that, at the end of 12 weeks, I’ll be laid off. I hope I’m wrong but I reckon it’s well on the cards. Off to have a beer round Karen’s in a sec which will be pleasant. Just a hour or so. It’s fucking windy today so I shall wrap up!

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #COVID19 #lockdownuk

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iwillbeinmynest · 5 years

Text

Hold On Loosely - Biker!Steve x Reader (f) Chapter 3

Authors Notes: I’m so happy with the positive response this fic has gotten! Thank y’all so much!! If you’d like to be tagged please send me an ask. I keep better track of tags that way.

Word Count: 2k

Special Thanks: Here’s to @itsanerdlife for fueling my Biker obsession and being my Beta for this whole thing. To my girl over at @girl-next-door-writes who also beta’ed for me. And an extra shout out to @bettercallsabs for this beautiful graphic. She is amazing and y’all need to check her out!!

Notes/Warnings: (My notes and warnings are for the story as a whole. Some notes and Warnings will not apply to every chapter.) smoking (I do not support smoking. keep your lungs clean y’all.) drinking, (be of age, don’t be stupid) minor violence, backstabbing, attempted murder, anxiety, stress, mentions of death, car accident, trauma, …I think that’s it. let me know if I’ve missed something.

Masterlist

Chapter 3

It had been three days since Steve brought Y/N back to the compound. She was quiet and mostly stayed in her room except when Nat would drag her out to eat. Every night she had a prospect stay in the room next door to keep her from leaving, not that she wasn’t free too, just that Nat thought she needed the company.

This morning, around eight, Sam noticed Y/N’s door was open. After knocking a few times with no answer, he walked into an empty room. Just as he was starting to panic he looked out the window and saw her sitting in the porch swing with Wanda at her house. And that’s where she’d been all day. Nat was thrilled that she was out of the house and the three of them had been talking and laughing all afternoon.

“Order up!” Clint shouted from behind the bar with a chuckle. It had shaken Steve back into reality from staring at the girls from the window.

Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag from him.

“What’s wrong?” Clint kept laughing. “You don’t like being the errand boy?”

“I haven’t done this much running around since I was prospecting.” Steve grumbled.

“Don’t lie, you’ll do anything to get near that girl.”

Steve clenched his jaw, instinctively. “No. That’s… I-”

“Hurry up, their food will get cold.” Clint cut him off to save himself the pain of listening to Steve try and lie.

Steve sighed and headed out the door. Clint wasn’t wrong, she had been on his mind a lot but, that didn’t mean he was happy about it. She was widowed, or so he assumed, and she was clearly attached to Danny. He had so many questions still but he knew it wasn’t time to ask yet.

He hopped up the steps of Wanda’s porch to hear the girls talking.

“Honestly, though,” Wanda continued. “It's so much fun. Please say you’ll stay?” She tilted her head Y/N’s direction.

Y/N smiled and shook her head. “Are you sure? I’ve been here all day.”

“Stay for what?” Steve grinned at Wanda and handed her the food.

Nat sipped on whatever she had in her coffee cup. “Girls night tonight. Y/N wants to just ‘go to bed'.” She laughed.

“Ah,” Steve rocked on his heels and stepped back down the stairs. “Well, I'll leave you to it.”

“Actually,” Y/N's voice caught his attention. “I was hoping that I could get a ride back to my house? I need a few things for work, and, no offense but, a break from this place for an hour or so.”

Nat and Wanda nodded.

“We get it.” Wanda agreed. “You two should pick us up some snacks on your way back. Our tradition is-”

“Onion rings from Mikey's. Yeah, everyone knows.” Steve grinned.

Wanda frowned and threw her soda can at him. “She didn't!”

Steve caught it and winced. “This hasn’t even been opened!”

“Serves you right for ruining my moment.” She rolled her eyes at his mock offence.

Y/N sent wide eyes to Nat who smirked. “Don't mess with that girl’s fried food. You'll want to get 3 orders.”

“Noted.” Y/N said as she rose from the swing. “See you at 7?”

“Yep, See ya.” Nat smiled.

Y/N followed Steve towards the bar and heard Wanda shout. “Be sure to hold on tight!”

Steve’s face scrunched up and he shouted back. “We’re taking the Bronco!”

“I know!” She and Nat laughed and his cheeks reddened.

“Witch,” He mumbled.

*********

Y/N didn’t let Steve open the car door for her but he was there to close it. She smiled at him, “Thanks. I shouldn’t take too long seeing as how my laptop was stolen. I just need to get some more clothes and some paperwork.”

“Sure, whatever you need. I got time.” He nodded and walked with her into the house.

Y/N looked around the house, it was still a mess but it was better. The prospects Bucky and Nat had sent had cleaned up the broken glass from the table and picked up most of the items that were on the floor, although it was all completely disorganized from the way things had previously been.

Steve had heard Bucky call the boys home after the second night. They way he had figured it, that many bikers hanging around a house that wasn’t near anyone who rode seriously would have sent a big enough message. One that said ‘This house is under our protection now’. But other than members of the Rebel Brotherhood, no other bikes rode by.

Heading down the hallway to get her clothes, Y/N caught a glimpse of her home office. “Oh no…”

“What?” Steve’s response was quick as he’d been right on her heel.

“I didn’t even look at my office the other night. They wrecked everything.” She began to look through the messy stack of papers that had been piled on her desk. “These are all mixed up,” She sighed, “It's going to take me hours to fix this. I need to cancel on Wanda. She’s gonna kill me.”

Steve grinned at the fact that she already knew Wanda so well. It meant she was getting comfortable with them, which would maybe make her feel comfortable hanging around longer. “You can’t wait another day to sort it all?” He asked.

“I really shouldn’t. I’ve got deadlines to meet and clients to appease.”

“Okay,” He sighed. “It’s your funeral.” Steve offered pulling out his phone.

“You have a back up plan for getting her those onion rings?” Y/N asked, turning to her papers.

Steve paused and thought it out. “I do now.”

“Looks like I’ve saved you from your own funeral.” She poked back at him.

He chuckled and sent a text to Clint. When he looked back up from his cell, he could see how overwhelmed she was feeling. “Can I help with anything?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, all my paperwork was sorted in so many different ways and basically it’s all in this pile now so...yeah. This is a nightmare.” She ran her hands over her face and then tried to clear an area of her desk.

That wasn’t going to be enough so, Steve began moving chairs and filing cabinets around. When he started pulling the desk back, Y/N looked baffled.

“Uh, actually I’m not worried about the layout of the furniture but thanks?” Her featured scrunched.

He smirked and gestured to the empty floor. “But you do have more room to sort those papers.”

Y/N looked at the floor and chewed on a smile. “Thanks. This helps.”

“I’m not really sure I’d be any good helping with the papers so, I’m going to double check the new locks the boys put in the other day.” He nodded after she did and left the room.

It’s not that he didn’t trust the prospects to have installed them properly, he was sure they had but...well, he wasn’t sure. He had to check them, he had to be the one to make sure she was safe.

There it was again, his absurd and unwarranted thoughts about her. He had this gut feeling that whatever these feelings for her were, they were one sided. He was setting himself up for pain but it didn’t seem to deter him from thinking about her all the time. She’d had a guy and regardless of what that story was; she was clearly attached.

When checking the locks didn’t take much time, he decided to check the windows to make sure they were sealed properly and then double checked the new alarm system Nat had gotten installed. Nothing fancy with cameras or anything but, something to alert the police if anything happened again.

Someone knocked on the door and Steve was quick to answer. He swung it wide to see Sam on the other side.

“I asked Clint to bring the food.” Steve said, confused.

“Bar got busy, he sent me.” Sam welcomed himself in and pushed past Steve. “I brought your bike, too. I'm supposed to bring the Bronco back. Dang! She’s got a nice place! It’s a little messy but I can dig it.”

Steve punched him in the arm and Sam laughed, dodging a second swing. Steve chuckled at his idiot friend and looked over to see Y/N leaning against the hallway entrance and smiling.

“Yeah, I’m kind of a slob aren’t I? Don’t worry, I’ll catch up to the dirty biker standard soon enough.” Y/N made a teasing face and stuck her tongue out.

“Aw, come on, why’s it gotta be like that?” Sam threw his arms out.

Steve’s shoulders shook slightly with a silent laugh. He tossed a paper wrapped burger her way and she caught it with ease. “Sorry that it’s not the fine dining you’re probably used to but here’s dinner. I did get Sam to stop by and grab us an order of those onion rings Wanda went on about. You should try them, they really are as good as she claims.”

“Speaking of me,” Sam cut into Steve’s line of sight, “Where’s my delivery tip?” He held out and open palm to Steve.

“You want a tip? Here’s a tip. Don’t insult a girl’s home. Especially a girl you ain’t met yet.” Steve knew that Sam was just being punk but the point needed to be made.

Sam rolled his eyes before turning to Y/N. He extended his tip money hand to her. “Sam Wilson, at your service, Ma’am. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I was just messing around.”

“I know you were, it’s fine.” She smiled sweetly. “Thank you for bringing us dinner.”

Sam turned back to Steve with the most arrogant grin on his face. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you two to it.” He tossed Steve his bike keys.

“Yeah,” Steve looked at him flatly before throwing the Bronco keys a little too hard. “Why don’t you do that.”

Sam went out the door and Steve watched him drive off.

“I’m sorry about Sam,” Steve sighed and made his way to Y/N’s kitchen where she’d sat to eat. “He’s a real piece of work.”

“But you still like him.” She noticed.

Steve nodded. “I do. He’s my brother.”

“Like, adopted or through the club?” Y/N asked. “Nat explained some of the dynamic you all have but I still don’t feel like I know enough.”

Steve leaned back in his chair. “Yeah. It’s like… My ma died when I was in high school, my pops long before that so, I never really had any one. Except Bucky. He’s always been there for me. Always. Club or no club, Bucky is family. But, through the club I’ve got tons of brothers and Sam is one of them. I’ve only known him for a handful of years and even though he’s always trying to crack jokes or flirt with the ladies, I know he’s a die hard for this club and in the same respect, me.”

“That’s nice, to have people you can turn to.” Y/N’s tone dimmed and her lips turned down ever so slightly.

Which prompted Steve’s next question. ‘What about you? Where’s your family?”

Y/N took a breath, “They live across country, in San Francisco.”

“So, what made you move here to Mobile? What’s a California girl like you doing in Alabama?” He smirked trying to lighten the mood.

“Danny. His family lives in Atlanta but his job moved him here.” She took one more bite of food before suddenly wrapping up her half eaten burger and getting up from the table. “I’m gonna get back to those papers. The sooner I finish the sooner you can have your night back. I’m sorry It’s taking me so long. I’ll hurry.”

She left the room before Steve had a chance to say anything.

*******************

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

Text

Legless On Maim Chap. 5: Those Legs Ain’t Quite Timely

For Ectober Day 11: Time (Part 1)

Danny takes a leap of faith and doesn’t splatter into ectoplasmic goop. Lewis gets philosophical and ignores the replies. The rest of the quartet finds out aliens are a thing and that Danny is an idiot about that too.

Danny’s got a few options. Two really. Thankfully they wouldn’t know that some flesh and muscle had in fact regrown, so that wasn’t an issue. And it was covered in bandaging so it’s not like there was anything to see really. Doesn’t have to worry about scars or the -totally nonexistent but should definitely be there- stitching. It was the tail that was an issue, if he hid it now he’d basically have to hide it permanently...or at least until he could let his legs fully regrow. He’s still not even sure what to do about that. Passing real legs off as robotic ones was not going to work. And while he’s done a lot for his secret, just not letting them grow or removing whatever regrows was a bit extreme even for him. And Lewis will kill him, or might actually force him to heal. At this point, he wouldn’t put it past the guy to knock him out or something.

But showing them the tail posed the same issue as letting them in on the fact that his legs are regrowing. It was too ghostly. But at the same time, Val knew and she also knew halfas were a thing, yet didn’t make the connection; or hadn’t yet anyway. It was easy enough to pass off the tail as just the ghost of his legs, which was less weird than regrowing limbs. Arguably anyway. With his ‘ecto-contamination’ already making him a bit more ghostly and sensitive to ghostly things, it probably wouldn’t make them too suspicious.

Though seeing them share another look probably means he’s taking too long to decide and making them feel bad about asking him. So he decides to ask them something to break up the tension a bit, ease the conversation some, while he mentally debates what to do, “is that why you’re having some issues with wiring and weighting?”.

Jack and Maddie are just assuming Danny needs to warm up a bit before being comfortable letting them see. Clearly he wasn’t expecting them to ask about his injuries, Maddie nodding, “for the weighting, yes. But it’s more about the power source”. Jack shifts and nods as well, “we’ve got to get ectoplasm throughout all of them so you can feel properly. With no matter from your actual body throughout it, that’s proving a bit difficult. But! With the right shape and connections, it should work splendidly!”.

Danny blinks, well shit, he basically had the solution to that. His tail could probably be made to fit and, due to not truly being solid and all of it being able to move, it could easily slide around whatever mechanics or wiring. He can also tell his dad’s bullshitting a little, his dad had no viable solution yet for this issue. Danny chuckles while transforming his tail back human A.K.A. looking like it was made out of bandaging, “heh yeah, not the same as making an exoskeleton huh?”.

Maddie nods and ruffles his hair, “yeah it’s not, and we can’t have it sapping your life force or anything”. All three chuckle slightly at that. Jack smiles, functionally speaking without thinking, “especially with there being less of it!”. Maddie glares at him slightly, but blinks a bit surprised at Danny actually laughing.

Danny can’t help but smirk a little, tail wiggling around some, though being intangible keeps that from being noticed. Technically there wasn’t any less of him, half just happens to be stuck all ghostly. He’s half ghost in a much more literal sense, which is a bit hilarious. Half ghost squared. Doubly half-ghost. Shifting some, “uh yeah, about that...”, Danny scoots away from where his mom is sitting a bit and pulls his now tangible tail in front of his stomach. Smiling a bit awkwardly as he lifts up the corner of his blankets and reveals the tip of the tail, “I think you might have to change some things”.

Danny chuckles even more awkwardly as they just sort of stare, so he starts talking, which is probably not the best idea, “had it sort of under the jacket earlier. Cause weird right? And definitely can’t let those men see something like this of all things. And bet it’s, like, cause of all the ectoplasm in my system. Which is totally a pretty, um, different way for that to affect me. But, like, hey! I’ve still got something there. Which is kinda nice even if it feels, like, super different. Very energetic in a lot of ways. ‘Cause y’know, made of energy. But also just, like, never really stops moving. And Ancients, say something? It’s weird yeah, but, like, just me. Part of me. My body and all that. And me having ectoenergy is super established and okay right? So there’s just part that’s nothing but that-”.

Jack goes slightly wide-eyed and snaps his fingers. Getting an idea, pretty well steamrolling past the ghostly strangeness of this in the name of science and inventing, and cutting Danny’s rambling off, “ectoenergy! Can you control it?!? You could move your ectoplasm to all the areas yourself then! And we’d need less reliance on the neuroreceptors, because you could use the tail for that some! Can you feel with it?!? How solid is it?!? Could possibly fit around what we’ve already got started since ectoplasm is more malleable and a gaseous liquid! Could even possibly be able to move the CyberSteps with the tail alone if the neuroreceptors malfunctioned! Oh! Ghosts only have these when they’re defying gravity at higher speeds usually! Could you defy gravity yourself with this?!? How would that work? You’d have to balance the rest of yourse-”. Maddie closes Jack’s mouth and gives him a warm smile, “Jack dear, don’t bombard him”.

Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair again and eyeballs the tail tip, “do you think we could see all of it before your dad explodes with questions again?”.

Danny chuckles, the quizzicality is a nice normalcy but also a bit unnerving, saying, “yeah, okay”, before pushing himself to sit up with his arms -coming to sit on the base of the tail a bit- and pushing away the blanket by coiling his tail out and letting it wave in the air a little.

Jack promptly blurting out, “how long has it been there?!? Why’s it look like that?!? I’ve never seen one coloured like this!”, Maddie glares at him and he shrugs sheepishly.

Danny chuckles, “it’s okay mom, I’ve asked myself the same”, rubbing his neck, “Lewis did too. He’s, um, the one who noticed it first”.

Maddie nods with a slight smile, “noticing something like that is part of his job”, was this weird? Yes. It was a fair bit more ghostly than she ever expected her son to be. But Jack was right, this solved a lot of the issues. And Danny wasn’t a ghost, well actually his ‘legs’ were. But why were they a tail instead of just ghost legs? She wants to ask, but she doesn’t want to overwhelm him and Jack’s already asking a bunch. Nodding as she looks at it, “the amount of ectoplasm in you must be high enough and have enough support to let your ghost actually form some”.

Danny nods a bit eagerly, that was the conclusion he was hoping they’d make, “yeah, that’s my thought. And yes dad, I can control it”. Bringing it up and letting them poke at it. Jack actually winding it through his fingers some. Jack mouthing, ‘wow’ and squishing it some. It was surprisingly solid but it was clear Danny could control its solidity, catching him smirk slightly as the tail acts more like mist than a solid suddenly. Maddie running her hand through one of the little misting off bits of shedding ectoplasm, muttering, “it’s shedding”.

Danny nods a little sheepishly, “yeah, I’m probably a bit of a contaminate now”, or more than he already was, they just didn’t know that. Shrugging and looking at his tail instead of his parents, “can’t really stop that. Control over it or not, ghostly tail is still a ghostly tail. It’s going to work like one”.

Maddie gives it a little pat, before watching Danny move it away from them and move it around in the air, wiggling a bunch, for a bit. Nodding and ruffling his hair, “of course. Are you at least getting used to that a little? Having part of you act so ghostly?”.

Danny smirks and nods at them, “I’ve had the time to toy with it, which yes, I can float with. It seems to do the balancing, or whatever, on its own”, moving his tail around a bit so this seemed less like he’s been doing this for the better part of two years, as he floats off the bed some.

Jack beams a bit, this was so cool! weird, but cool! Waving his hand under his floating son some, “clearly it must come really naturally!”, before chuckling some at Danny wobbling in the air a little. Practice would make perfect of course!

Danny nods, his tail and floating was one thing that had always come easily to him. Coiling his tail tip around a finger, “yeah and I haven’t had much else to do besides figure it out for the past days”, blushing and rubbing his neck a bit awkwardly, “I’ve had it for sure since the second morning. I just didn’t really wanted to show you yet I guess”, shrugging, “you can be a little excitable and you kind of hate ghosts”, gesturing at the tail, “I’m quite literally a bit ghost”. This was starting to feel like a trial run for really telling them what he was.

Maddie and Jack exchange a look before promptly hugging him gently, not wanting to jar any injuries. Maddie ruffling his hair, “oh sweetie, it’s part of you so it’s different. You’re not fully ghost and you’re clearly in control of it”, looking to Jack. Jack nodding, “at least you have legs in a sense still! Weird as they are!”, tilting his head and poking at the tail, “it’s curious that your ghost doesn’t have legs! Can’t really see any other reason for the ghost of your legs to not be ghost legs”.

Danny’s not quite sure the reason why himself, he knows that’s not it of course though. Poking the tail himself, “well it looks like bandaging because I have bandaging over the whacked off area, so it’s copying what I have. All ghosts can have tails, so since I don’t have legs for it to ‘copy’ it goes with the default. That’s my idea anyway”. Watching them cringe a little over his word choice, probably should have spoken a bit more gently. Danny smiles and pats both their arms, “I’d squeeze ya, but I don’t have the range of motion for that. I’m fine okay, I’m used to it. I’m more so waiting for you guys to be okay with it”.

Maddie pats his hair, he was a strong kid though she’s not sure how he can be quite so okay with this. Especially with the tail making it even stranger. Maybe that strangeness was distracting him some, might even view it as his ectoplasm doing something for him. But this also meant he was without question going to become a ghost one day. Which is...not a pleasant thing to know. Maybe with this partial change his ectoplasm will remember who he is as a person and not become emotionless or evil as a ghost. So maybe this was for the best, nurturing and giving experience to his ghost. But not having...legs, would never really be okay. Ghostly tail or not, robotic legs or not. But she’ll be damned if they’ll make Danny feel bad or uncomfortable about it, they will adjust, “that’ll take some time sweetie”.

Danny smiles softly and nods a little, “that’s fine. Just don’t let this interrupt our normal life much, though maybe no anti-ecto stuff where my tail can easily whack into it. That would probably not be fun for anyone”, they both nod readily while Danny smiles a bit wider, “good, that’s good”.

They sit a little awkwardly for a bit before Jack gets up, “with this we could probably have the CyberSteps ready by morning if we work now!”, smiling wide at Maddie, who smiles and nods; quickly kissing Danny on the head before getting up herself. “You make sure to call us or get us if you need anything, alright sweetie?”.

Danny nods and flat-out lies, “of course”, as they leave. Finally breathing out heavily after a bit and flopping to lay back on his bed, “well that was painful, but at least it ended okay”, turning his head to look out the window. He had never used duplication so much, as he duplicates and sends the duplicate out on the town.

He’s more than a little pleased that both the G.I.W. and Amorpho have flown the coop. Time to check in with his friends...and girlfriend. Thinking back on the microwave call, “okay, Val first. Definitely Val first”, of course he couldn’t just show up at her place but a phone call would do splendidly...maybe. Pulling out and putting in his little Fenton Phone, setting it to cancel out his ghostly echo, and calling her cell. He could call the suit, but he doubts she’d actually appreciate that.

It’s not really surprising she picks up quick, “hello?”.

“Hey Val, figured you might li-”.

Val promptly cuts him off, “I better be the first call you made, I’ve earned it. How’s your y’ know”.

Danny chuckles, “back to normal and yes you are. My folks seem not so pleased about the y’ know. But not, like, upset either. Oh, and I met Lewis’s wife, you heard her earlier”.

“The lady Tucker attempted to start hitting on?”.

“Yup, though I don’t think she really cared. Same with Lewis. Considering their best friend is literally the wife’s ex-fiancé”.

“How is that not awkward? His wife is weird like him, isn’t she? And I’m glad your folks didn’t freak over something you have no real say over having. Ghostly or not”.

Danny smiles at that, clearly she was more okay with it herself now, “wife saw the y’know and didn’t even bat an eye. So I’d say so. She also decided that if anyone ever tries to charge a ghost with their own murder, she wants to represent them. I’m glad you seem more comfortable over the y’know now”.

Val laughs, “I’ve had time to mentally adjust. And of course the doctor’s dating a lawyer”, sounding a bit bitter, “rich accomplished people always stick together”.

Danny, deciding to nip that idea in the butt, though he gets why she’s bitter about that, considering how her rich ‘friends’ had treated her. “The ex-fiancé has been described as a literal trash fire and apparently dresses like a homeless man that just got beat up by bigoted cops. Even almost been homeless. So I doubt it’s a rich money thing. Seems more like people who help people sticking together. Doctor who literally save lives, pro bono lawyer, and a ‘for the little guys’ reporter”, Danny’s firmly leaving out anything to do with Vee. And he probably should give Lewis a heads up that he keeps no secrets from his friends. He won’t tell any of them really without an okay though. But considering even Lewis’s wife knew shit now, it would be a dick move of them to not be chill with Danny’s friends knowing. Eddie and Vee’s friends knew, Danny’s friends would know. Seems fair enough to him.

Val snorts, “so slightly worse dressed than you most days? And fine, I guess one of them isn’t some rich prick. And he’s not some charity case?”.

Danny sighs, “not all rich people are dicks you know”.

“I believe that when I met one who doesn’t give a damn about other people’s wealth. Doctor doesn’t count”.

Now Danny has a damn point to make, so he doesn’t really care if Sam will be a bit annoyed, while he smirks at spotting the Box Ghost. Making sure to mute everything but his voice on the phone, “does Sam give a damn?”. Promptly blasting at the Box Ghost before he can even open his mouth. Danny chuckles to himself.

“Sam’s not rich and why are you mocking me?”.

Danny shakes his head as he sticks out his tongue before punching the Box Ghost, “Val, Sam’s family are one of the richest in the entire world. There’s a movie theatre and bowling alley in the basement. You know those little deli toothpicks with the wrapping on them? Yeah, that’s a Manson creation. Every time people use or buy those, they make truckloads of money. None of them will ever work and are filthy stinking rich”.

The Box Ghost doesn’t even look all that offended that Danny’s not really paying attention to him, shouting about his boxes of DOOM while Danny just beats him up some more. Val breaths out after a bit, “well shit. Why the Zone doesn’t she flaunt that? Paulina would lose her shit”.

Danny sighs with satisfaction as he captures the Box Ghost, tail wiggling happily, “‘cause she doesn’t want to be treated different based purely on her wealth. Me and Tuck didn’t even know for years ‘cause she didn’t want to make friends based on money. I could totally see her telling Paulina just before graduation though. Just to bug her”.

“Well damn. I guess I gotta believe it now. You told me this just to rub it in my face didn’t you?”.

Danny smirks, “absolutely”, looking around some before just floating lazily over buildings, “you didn’t get into trouble over you know what did you?”.

“You little shit and no, don’t even think anyone noticed”.

Danny can’t help but laugh at that, “good! We’re all good then. Though I should probably actually check in with Sam and Tuck at this point”.

“True, I think Sam picked up we’re a thing again. I also think she’s pissed. You have the most protective friends ever. You take care, you damn idiot”.

“I know, they’re great. And you too, you stupid idiot”, Danny turns off the phone to her muttering about how he basically just called her a double idiot.

Knowing full well that Sam would be worse to deal with but also be even more worse if he puts her off, he flies in through her window. Not even surprised she’s just standing on the other side of the curtains with her arms crossed.

“Took you long enough”.

Danny rolls his eyes as he sits on the windowsill, “we’re all lucky my folks even left me alone eventually. Yes I’m fine, yes my folks saw the tail and didn’t go crazy, and Lewis knows basically everything now”.

Sam sighs but smiles, “at least you trusted someone else. But are you sure we can trust him? And I want a damn answer about Valerie, I know you heard me before Tucker hung up”.

Danny rubs his neck, “can’t give a guy a break can ya? Not even when he’s all battered and legless”.

“You’re always battered, you better tell me before I get my shoe”.

Danny makes an overacted show of fear and waves his hands back and forth erratically, “I’ll pass! I’ll pass!”, chuckling at her eye-roll, “trust me, Lewis has seen weirder shit. He hid and carried me around in a thermos for an entire shift, he’s good”.

Sam tilts her head and laughs slightly, “okay he’s good. Now what about Valerie?”.

Danny sighs, knowing damn well neither of his friends were going to be happy, “yes okay? We’re a thing again. Which is not a ba-”.

Sam whacks him over the head, not too hard though, “idiot. She still very specifically wants you and all things ghostly dead. Whether she helped you away from those white-suit pricks or not”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “she’s seen the tail Sam, she told me she’s Red. Things have changed. Sure I’m still working on the ghost hate, the Phantom hate. But she likes Dani, she knows about halfas, she’s not the same as she used to be”.

Sam glares at him and throws her arms out to the side, “you wouldn’t care if she was the same as she was”, shaking her head and sighing, “and fine I’ll give you that her accepting the tail and telling you about being a hunter is a massive thing. But she’s still a hunter, I’ll trust her when she stops hunting you. And we’ll stop being protective of you, when you stop being a selfless idiot”.

Danny pokes her nose with his tail, “that will never happen. But at least I’m not intentionally destroying myself for love”.

Sam glares slightly before joining Danny in sitting on the windowsill, “it’s a close thing”.

Danny bumps his shoulder into hers, “oh she’d never destroy me”.

“Don’t you dare make a bet on that”.

Danny, deciding this is really the only way to tell her without getting assaulted, quickly blurts out, “she also knows you’re rich now bye!”, and zips out the window. Her shouting, “DANNY!”, after him.

Danny goes in through Tuck’s window and just flops down on his sleeping friend, making the guy jerk awake. Tuck flicks his face, “you asshole...I’m glad you’re okay though”.

“I mean, me too. Fucking owe you for hacking shit”.

“Damn fucking straight you do. So how bad did doc and the lady freak over the call?”.

Danny chuckles, “do you even know what you called through? A fucking microwave. They were very confused. But otherwise unfazed”.

Tucker snorts and laughs, “so y’all were talking to a microwave. Something tells me we don’t even have the tip of the iceberg on just how much weird that guys seen”.

Danny grins goofily, “oh you have no idea. The crap he’s told me, just wow. Sworn to secrecy though”.

Tucker makes a pouty face, “what?!? No fair! Why do you get to know all the weird crap? Besides being his patient. Which is hardly a reason! Even those strange friends of his I’d like to hear more about. Anyone who could give you a run for your money in strange Ville is worth hearing about”.

“Because he kept trying to match my weird! He ran out of material with the whole CW is my friend and sorta a god thing. On the High Ghost Prince thing too”.

Tucker blinks, “wait what? The Zone Danny? Why does doc know about that?”.

Danny gets up then and leans on his hands, letting the tail do its thing. Looking down at Tucker, who looks more than a little unimpressed, “he walked in on me and a duplicate. He hid me in a fucking thermos. He knows I’m Phantom, Tuck”.

“Did you at least freak him the Zone out?”.

Danny huffs in fake annoyance, “it made him pause but that was about it. Which I absolutely am a bit miffed about. But seriously, with the shit he’s told me, it’s fucking expected. He still firmly believes I am not the weirdest person he knows. Weirdest life, but not weirdest person”.

“The Zone is wrong with his friends?”.

“A fucking lot. He literally showed up in the near-dead of night to ask about setting up a damn hangout between me and his friends. Because we have a ton in common. Not half dead though”.

Tucker raises his eyebrows and asks in a slightly mocking tone, “are they a black and white battered idiot vigilante with a questionable body and fucking atrocious fashion sense? And only keep their shit secret through dumb luck and general public stupidity? Oh and are dating someone who has, and sometimes still does, try to kill them? Because don’t lie dude, Val’s macking lips with ya again”.

Danny looks around and pointedly doesn’t say shit. Tucker blinks at him and wheezes, “oh my fucking Ancients, is your doc just a damn magnet for you fuckers?”.

Danny gestures one arm around wildly, “that’s what I said! Weird just attracts weird I think. I mean, y’all fuckers are weird. You attracted me. Lewis is weird, pretty sure his wife is too”.

Tucker wiggles his eyebrows, “I attracted you now did I?”.

Danny smacks Tuck’s forehead, “not like that you damn creep”, tilting his head at remembering some of Lewis’s rather strange comments, “though with some of the shit Lewis’s said, it might be like that with his friends. His wife literally dated one-”

Tucker snorts, cutting Danny off, “oh I will absolutely make bets that something currently is or will be going on there. Then again, Valerie’s a friend and literally dated, and is dating, you. And no way me or Sam are gonna make moves on her”.

Danny laughs, everyone would be very confused if either of his friends made moves on Val, “good. I don’t think my ghost side would be cool with sharing. And yes fine, we’re dating. She’s okay with the tail and tripped through the window in suit”.

Tucker screws up his face and starts laughing, “seriously? That’s how she comes clean?”.

Danny sticks his hands out to the side and floats up off the bed some, “I know right?!? I chewed her out for that”, yawning slightly, fuck he got a little used to more regular sleeping and getting a full night of it, “anyway, my folks are leg fitting me tomorrow and I relearned how to sleep, sooooo...”.

Tucker chuckles, “that’s going to be awkward, what you doing about the tail? And good, you should sleep more”.

Danny waves him off, “not a priority. And probably should have stared with this, but they know. They’ve seen it and didn’t go all crazy ghost hunters about it”.

Both of them yawn and Tucker pats Danny’s arm, “good. That’s good really”, while Danny waves at him and flies out.

Danny decides in the morning, as he slips into the little hover cushion, that just floating around with his tail would be a bit too much for his folks. That and he needed to not seem super used to it. But he does let it stay visible and move around freely inside the device. The tip curling over the edge here and there since there really wasn’t quite enough room, as he hovers down the stairs for breakfast.

He’s really honestly not surprised to see a pair of robo legs just standing in front of his sitting dad. Who’s fiddling away and absent mindedly eating cookies. But they did actually look pretty awesome, clearly they listened to him. Light gray metal with dark forest green lines all over and dark gray ‘boots’. Lean and matte instead of shiny. They also looked a lot more like a finished product than a prototype. Reminded him a bit of his original jumpsuit, which was clearly intentional on his parents part. Even Sam and Tuck would pick up on that.

Hovering into the kitchen, “mornin’, how’s that comin’?”. Both Maddie and Jack jerk slightly, looking to the legs and back to Danny a bit awkwardly. Danny waves them off and moves to grab his cereal, “don’t worry about it. I’m not bothered”. Sure that was partly because Danny was used to them toying with things that could hurt him directly in his face and also shooting them at him. But these were going to be attached to him. He damn well better be okay with them. And robo legs or no, walking again would be goddamn nice. Actually feeling ground under his feet and taking steps, funny how you could miss something like that.

Danny would complain about his mom basically making the cereal for him and putting it on the table, but he could barely move his fingers, her doing that for him was damn reasonable. And it was worlds better than being damn spoon fed. Muttering, “thanks”, as he hovers the hover cushion to sit in the chair, tail flicking out of it lazily. Which Jack and Maddie absolutely do eyeball a little.

Jack asking after a beat, “in that case, what do you think? Looks cool right?”.

Danny, speaking without really thinking, “who needs legs with legs like these”, everyone blinks, including Danny. Who then rubs his neck, “eh too soon? Anyway... they look good dad. The softer colours are definitely better. Will I be able to curl my metaphorical toes though?”.

That gets Jack looking down at the ‘boots’ having not considered that, promptly picking up and bending the legs to sit on the table and getting to work on that. Danny just chuckles, that was a little bit weird. Knowing that was basically his lower-half sitting on the table. While Maddie watches Danny a bit and smiles, he really was okay, not just faking it. She’s not sure if that bothers her or makes her proud.

Danny had just shoved a spoon of cereal in his mouth when Lewis walks in the door. Danny leans his head over the back of his chair, spoon in his mouth, “mor-”, promptly choking on his cereal slightly and coughing.

Lewis does find it more that a little strange to just see a pair of legs sitting on the kitchen table, shaking his head at Danny, “I just got here and you’re already exercising the whole ‘getting hurt around a doctor gets you free treatment’ trick”.

Danny coughs slightly before turning his head around to smirk at Lewis, “I’m not surprised that’s a thing. Speaking of exercise and to tackle the possibly weird thing going on here. Know that today’s not normally my leg day, but I’m willing to spice things up sometimes”.

Lewis chuckles while Maddie’s a little surprised that comment was not only said but didn’t seem to faze Dan.

Lewis walks over and looks at the legs, his two friends tech had come a long way, smirking at Danny, “well you certainly don’t need that sort of exercising”.

Danny points at him, “one less thing for the gym teach to pester me about”, shrugging, “not that she’ll really know though”, pointing at his cereal, “want food?”.

Maddie gets Dan food even if he shakes his head while Jack just shrugs off the weirdness, easily remembering why Dan had been a great friend. Nothing really bothered the guy much. Hooking up the little ecto-battery to test out the toes, which results in him accidentally making one leg kick Dan’s oatmeal out of his hands. Jack chuckles awkwardly, “might be a tad bit over sensitive”.

Danny shakes his head, “I’m not even wearing them yet and they’re already breaking shit. I feel called out”.

Jazz comes in and, spotting the mess, cleans it up before making both herself and Lewis food. Easily manoeuvring around her mom who’s gone to help dad with the sensitivity. “Morning Danny and Lewis, I don’t think your room’s actually fully set up. They got distracted”.

Danny wiggles the tail tip at Lewis, who easily gets the ‘I told them and they didn’t freak out’ message. Lewis nods as he sits at the table, “distractions are a spice of life. They’re best plentiful but not constant, otherwise you can’t taste anything else”. Digging in his bag and promptly shoving a little cake at Danny, who looks a bit confused, “speaking of spices and tastes. Apology cake, white chocolate spiced with cinnamon, ginger, and cardamom”.

Danny squints but then chuckles, the guy gave his two friends one for telling Danny their shit. Lewis was giving him one for telling his wife Danny’s shit. “Unnecessary, but I’ll take the free food”.

Jazz glares slightly at Lewis as Danny digs into the cake and is clearly loving it. Danny shrugging off whatever Lewis did, didn’t really mean much, it took a lot for Danny to hold something against someone. But to actually make a cake showed effort. Danny pokes Lewis with the spoon, which was previously being used for cereal, swallowing before speaking, “just how often do you make apology cakes? And how’s this one actually better?”.

Lewis shrugs and ignores how Danny’s face twitches while he bats Jack’s hand away from the cake. “Not often actually. I do make cakes for fun though”.

Danny takes another scoop of the cake before pointing the spoon at Lewis, “agurf, yer theph couge”.

Jazz shakes her head, recognising the slightly possessive and territorial behaviour, as Danny bats dad’s hand away again, “swallow first Danny”. While Maddie shakes her head, “I know you’re capable of polishing off all of that but let your dad have a taste sweetie”.

“Naw, my Lewis apology cake”, Danny shoves another piece into his mouth to stop the growl trying to rise up. While Lewis brings out a thing of cupcakes, gesturing at them, “I’m not mean. Same flavour”. Jazz sends Lewis a grateful smile for that and takes a cupcake. All three polishing off the cupcakes pretty quickly, Jack looking downright giddy, “you’re an amazing baker! Have you ever made fudge!”.

Jazz mouths, ‘please say no’, while Lewis shakes his head. He really hadn’t. Maddie smiles at him, “you’ll probably be learning then”.

Not even five minutes later Danny’s polished off the cake and Lewis is a bit impressed by that. Vee plowing through food wasn’t impressive, they could eat people whole. But Danny, at the very least, wasn’t currently performing that level of mouth dexterity.

Lewis takes his two containers and looks over the legs again. Highly interested in how they were supposed to work. “How is he supposed to pilot these?”. Jazz just groans over how you should never ask the ‘how’.

Danny looks down at the little hover cushion then back at Lewis, “you ask this after having seen hover-boards and what’s basically a hover-bowl?”.

Lewis points at him, “that’s not attached to you and has a control panel”.

“Point”, even the big ass battle suit had controls.

Jack flips up the neuroreceptor strip, moving the branches slightly, “neuroreceptors latch onto his spinal column and into the nervous system! Sending signals to these babies the same as his body would natural legs! The CyberSteps have their own built-in nervous system and somatosensory system! So it will all connect smoothly and he’ll be able to feel them!....”.

Jack keeps going while Lewis is a bit caught off guard. Not only was making something like this that actually worked basically a medical marvel -these were literally prosthetics that could function like real limbs pretty well completely!- but it was also a bit insane. Blinking and interrupting, “you’re hooking into his spine? And nerves? That’s actually impressively dangerous and as his doctor I can’t even consider officially approving of this”.

Jack looks slightly crushed but Danny just rolls his eyes, while Jazz speaks up, “this isn’t the first time they’ve made something like this. It’s fine, dad himself tested out the first years ago”.

Lewis eyeballs the legs, something like this had been made years ago? And they just used it? Like it was nothing? Patting Jack’s shoulder, “you two might be most intelligent people ever. And I didn’t say I’d try to stop you”. At that Jack beams.

Maddie smiles softly and nods at Lewis, “we made sure it would be safe long term. Made specifically for him and runs off his ectoplasm”, looking at Danny, “just a little of course”, looking to Jack, “and definitely will not be sapping anyone’s life force”.

Danny elbows Lewis, “just to bug the doctor in you, the first thing they made that used these neuroreceptors slowly killed the wearer”, shrugging, “unless you took it off of course”. Danny pulls out his phone and types away on it.

Lewis, reading the screen ‘I stole it, used it. Used up like 99% of my life force, turns out you can recover from that shit’, he wants to emphatically point out every reason why that was insane to do and incredibly stupid. That’s possibly dumber than befriending, and falling in love with, the creature eating your organs.

Looking at Jack as he nods with a laugh, “yeah just the pants part of that suit nearly knocked me out after five minutes. Good thing people can heal from that kind of drain!”. Lewis shakes his head, “well I'm glad you worked that kink out”. Jack nods as he tests out the toes again, this time satisfied.

Danny only ignores his dad looking from the legs to him and back a few times before speaking up, “yes dad, I’m cool with testing them out”. Lewis practically having to scamper out of the way as Jack pretty well aggressively throws himself, and the legs, at Danny. Though setting them to stand in front of Danny’s chair moderate carefully.

Lewis tilts his head, “you know, this reminds me of the time I went to my friends' house and he was sunken halfway into his couch. Just the upper half of him was sticking out. And in the corner there was this deep freezer with a pair of legs just dangling out. Which was slightly weird, cause they don’t even own a deep freezer”.

Danny screws up his face, “yeah because that’s what’s weird about that situation. Did you check the...legs?”.

Lewis nods immediately, “oh yes, I do have some limits for the level of reckless I’ll tolerate. It was a random guy legitimately asleep, yes I checked their pulse. No clue who they were and decidedly didn’t want to know”. Sure that was partly because he’s pretty sure Eddie had actually knocked the guy out. Plausible deniability was a legit thing that he’d like to at least sometimes have.

Danny chuckles, “then I guess his sleep schedule was literally, instead of metaphorically, put on ice”, then looks down the centre of the CyberSteps -at least that was a somewhat cool name-, there was easily enough space for him to wind his tail around in the legs, though splitting his tail would be a bit strange. And he can tell there are little spots where his ecto-energy can ‘latch on’. Floating himself up and grabbing the rim of the top of the legs and letting his tail just sort of slide in. It was like putting on really stiff pants over legs made of misty mouldable rubber. Securing the belt around just above where his hips should -and were starting to- be, the fit for his tail was actually a little snug but that would probably become less tight as his ectoplasm fuelled the legs. Hitting the little button with a thumbprint scanner to activate and attach the neuroreceptors.

Lewis tilts his head a little at the strap thing clicking onto Danny, he had just assumed this was very literally a ‘see if they even fit’ sort of situation rather than Danny actually hooking up to them. Considering Danny had severe spinal injuries, that his parents knew about, and Danny’s wearing a back brace. But apparently, these neuroreceptors can go through clothing/braces/bandaging and didn’t actually need to be on the skin. Was it just transmitting signals through the material? How? Lewis muttering, “I have so many questions, but are you sure you should be doing that? Considering the spinal injuries”.

Jazz blinks, realising that yeah this would be insanely dumb for Danny to be testing if he was still injured. Danny just waves Lewis off, he is not putting off testing these things.

Though Danny does pay attention to how it all feels just in case, and them hooking into him was just as jarring as last time, even if going through the braces dampened the feeling some, and he definitely could feel the drain on his ectoplasm pretty well instantly. However, feeling his ecto-energy sparking in his eyes was not an expected reaction, and his tail starts becoming a bit more erratic; sliding around throughout the legs. “Uh pretty sure that’s no-”, Danny pauses at his voice echoing and promptly deactivates the neuroreceptors. Danny grumbling, “I’m not going to tempt fate too much”, voice still echoing and blinking his eyes to try and make the ecto-energy chillout, which it does not.

Lewis looks around at the confused and slightly awkward faces, “I'm going to guess that something’s not working correctly”. Danny slowly looks to him and gestures to his glowing green eyes, “clearly”. Alright, so the ghost eyes were not intentional.

Jack scratches his head while Danny squirms a bit before pulling his, extremely erratically vibrating and lashing, ghostly tail out of the CyberSteps. Everyone watching ecto-energy shedding off it very excessively; like his tail was smoking. Jack muttering, “it’s like they supercharged you instead of sapping”.

Danny shakes his head, “no, I could feel the draining. More like making my ectoplasm produce more or whatever”. Danny blinks, feeling the rising coldness in his chest and repressing a shiver. Not good, “maybe you guys should go figure that out? I’ll be fine, got doctor dude right?”.

Lewis was going to object but he’s pretty sure a snowball just slammed into his shin, so instead he nods at Jack and Maddie, “at this point, I’m pretty sure I’m able to handle somewhat ghostly oddness”.

Jack and Maddie exchange a glance, it made sense that Danny would want legs as soon as possible. But his body was doing something weird, looking at Dan, “I guess you have had a bit of experience now”. Danny was experienced with his ecto-contamination, used to it. So surely he would know if something was off with it, and if he genuinely needed help.

Danny’s just thanking his lucky stars as they do indeed head down to the lab with the legs. Promptly looking to Jazz and blazing his Core’s ectoplasm in his eyes. Her instantly getting the message that Danny’s basically an ice bomb, while Danny shivers. Jazz kicks the freezer, making the systems start acting up and freezing over before yanking Lewis out of the room.

Lewis muttering as he just goes along with this, “what’s going on?”. Jazz only getting a chance to say, “flash freeze”, as both of them watch cold steam basically blast out of the kitchen doorway, like liquid nitrogen. Lewis quirking an eyebrow, “is it safe now?”. Jazz nods after a beat, so Lewis sticks his head in and blinks. Everything is just covered in ice and frost.

Danny uncurls fully, rubbing at his Core a bit. It was definitely still producing too rapidly, so he starts making little ice sculptures with his hands while eyeballing the lab door. Danny waves one hand over his shoulder, “you can come back. The frost won’t bite you”.

Lewis is glad he’s got thick socks as he comes back in, Jazz promptly sitting back down and looking like nothing weird had ever happened to her in her entire life. Lewis quirks an eyebrow at Danny, his eyes could also glow blue? “Nice eyes”.

Danny chuckles and tosses him one of the little ice popcorns, “I got two kinds of ectoplasm remember?”, pointing an ice sword toothpick at his eyes, “Core ectoplasm”.

Jazz nods, “you’ve seen his regular ectoplasm overproducing, this is his Core ectoplasm overproducing”. Danny does little jazz hands, snow falling from his palms. Cryokinesis for sure. Lewis is firmly glad Danny didn’t ‘flash freeze’ at the hospital, that would have damaged the equipment.

It doesn’t take long for Danny to decide to retire to his room, Lewis joining him because he’s pretty well required to. Jack and Maddie fully expecting him to keep a medical eye on Danny. Especially with his body doing weird ghost things.

Lewis blinks upon entering Danny’s room, he was more than a little used to the smell of viscera; even rotting flesh and sepsis. Even once worked on a lady whose breast implant ruptured during surgery and turned out to be filled with mould. That had been an interesting day. Danny’s room, however, smells suitably like death. It’s not the worst smell, but it was up there; and there was definitely no strong near burning scent of sanitiser to accompany it. Commenting, “clean your room”, as he eyeballs the desk chair with a level of caution only a guy who gives medical treatment to a man-eating alien can convey.

Danny rolls his eyes and flops on his bed, chucking a snowball at the wall, “eh, it’s not that bad. Plus, that would take forever”.

Considering Lewis decidedly sidesteps a slightly squishy section of floor, he thinks it is indeed that bad. Giving the chair another once over before sitting and leaning back in it.

Danny rolls his eyes at Lewis’s dubious eyebrows, “you smell gore all the time and you’re friends place can’t be all that much better”, pointing with his tail at Lewis, “do you wear anything other than dress shirts?”.

“Not particularly, and their place smells more like the college dorm of someone who never learned to clean or cook properly. Yours smells like a morgue that’s never seen an ounce of sanitiser but someone sprayed citrus air fresheners to make up for it”.

Danny chuckles and comments with fake wistfulness, “ahh that’s the smell of death, sweet sweet ectoplasm. That’s a scent I can’t really do much about though, since me ecto-contaminating my room to the Zone and back is unavoidable”, floating up and over to his window, gesturing out, “it’s a scent everywhere in Amity, my room and the lab are really the only places a regular humans nose will pick up on it though”.

Lewis figures that does make sense for his room to smell like ectoplasm then, watching as Danny’s tail is still shedding ectoplasm a bit excessively, “the lab?”.

Danny nods and points at his floor, “right below us, pretty well packed with ecto-samples, ecto-inventions, and of course, the portal. It gets cleaned more often though and all the surfaces are non-permeable and somewhat ecto-phobic”. Honestly, it was a bit of a wonder that the basement wasn't worse than his room.

Lewis doesn’t get to comment on that as Maddie knocks on the door, “you in there sweetie? And Dan?”. Danny frowns slightly and responds with a little less cheeriness than normal, “yeah, supper?”.

Maddie says, “yup”, while Lewis claps his hands on his knees and gets up; Danny slipping back into the hover cushion.

Maddie’s not happy there’s still a green ring glow to Danny’s eyes. But at least they were blue now and the glow was faint. And at least the glow was just the colour of general ectoplasm not red or something. His...tail...is still moving a bit erratically but it’s clear Danny’s making a point to keep it mostly contained in the hover cushion.

Lewis smirks slightly at seeing Jack fiddling with the freezer, clearly the two thought the freezer was responsible for the kitchen freeze over, “strong freezer?”.

Jack laughs, “yup! Froze the whole house over once!”.

Lewis eyes Danny as he sits down, Danny promptly answering the unasked question, “it’s true, I was honestly impressed”. Lewis chuckles over that, the freezer must get blamed for so many ice-related mishaps.

Danny does absolutely note that neither of his parents brought the legs up, quirking an eyebrow, “Cyber’s don’t got an easy fix?”, before shoving a fork full of spaghetti noodles in his mouth.

Maddie sighs and nods, “unfortunately yeah, the connections are correct and everything but the timing seems off and we had to build in a conductor to counteract how much ectoplasm it takes”.

Jack nods with a slight frown, swallowing his food before speaking, “can’t let it take too much and it has to control how much output there is otherwise they’ll be way too strong. And! This way if you’re lower on ectoplasm somedays than others there would be a reserve! Since these are supposed to be a long term solution”.

Danny chuckles, him being lower on ectoplasm literally never happens. Well okay, that wasn’t entirely true. He actually uses his ectoplasm pretty frequently, so it probably does actually fluctuate. If they just drained the same amount form him all the time then, wow yeah that could have some bad consequences. That would be really bad if he was in a tough fight and feeding these legs resulted in him not having enough ectoplasm in the end to maintain ghost form. Plus there was the massive drain that was his Wail. So these legs being able to hold a reserve and just not feed off him when he was lower in ecto-energy would be a damn good thing. Nodding slightly, “yeah okay, that makes sense. So the timer’s off? Or they just can’t start/stop properly?”.

Jack nods, “exactly! But I’m sure we’ll figure that out! We just somehow need a timer that is way more powerful and capable of starting and stopping all or just specific functions easily and without taking up much room”.

Jazz tilts her head, “what about using the same sort of thing as ecto-batteries do for output control? I know that their input control is pretty janky still, but it’s halfway there”.

Maddie shakes her head and Lewis is pretty sure at this point that every Fenton is basically an expert on Fenton tech. While Maddie responds, “that was what we tried first, the input in those is just simply too unstable and finicky to be so close to a strong ecto-energy source. Especially for so long”.

Jack nods and speaks almost too eagerly, “they’d explode! They did explode in fact! It was very messy...”.

Danny scrunches his eyebrows and laughs, yeah that would be quite the mess. Not as bad as the portal exploding or even the portals ecto-filter exploding but still. Danny snorts, “yeah that would probably be unpleasant if they just blew up on me, but it would be really eventful if that happened at school”, chuckling with a shake of his head, “now that would really confuse some teachers”.

Jazz sighs, “they wouldn’t even be surprised since it’s you”.

Danny points at her, “hey now, I think my legs blowing up would really be a new high, or new low depending on how you look at it, for me”.

Lewis tilts his head, “you know...a friend of mine has blown quite a few things up. Mostly intentionally though”, pointing at Danny, “I’m not sure if I told you this, but they blew up a rocket-ship once. Their reasoning was sound”.

Danny gives Lewis a look of deep offence, “not cool. But considering everything, yeah they probably had good reasons”.

Jack beams at the conversation, clearly Danny and Dan have become good friends! He was friend-sharing with his boy! Sure it was clear there was something between Danny and Vlad, but Jack isn’t as dense as he seems. Usually he is, but not always. He knew that those two disliked each other on a deep level. They seemed to do things purely to annoy each other, it was almost like a little rivalry. Just a hate rivalry rather than a friendly one. Which was weird, because V-man was great! Sure he was a little reclusive, but so what? Smiling and finishing off his plate, trying to think up a way to correct the issues with the CyberSteps.

They needed something small yet strong, have a central location but to either be or have affect all over, it couldn’t run off Danny’s ectoplasm or life-force and it couldn’t really have a battery of it’s own, it would have to be easy to access without being easily damaged, and of course it would have to look good too; no way was he sticking his boy in something hideous. Which, yes, was absolutely part of why he liked the idea of the legs looking something like Danny’s missing jumpsuit. Jumpsuits were a Fenton staple! Even if Danny was getting one in a rather strange and not so pleasant manner. At least he didn’t have to die for one! Though near death was still rather unpleasant. But! At least he seemed okay and well adjusted to it! And of course the legs did have plenty of jumpsuit qualities. The metal, like all FentonWorks products metal, was slightly ecto-phobic. Only enough so that ectoplasm wouldn’t damage it of course. They couldn’t make the legs as ecto-resistant and ecto-phobic as true hunter jumpsuits, because that might interfere with Danny’s ectoplasm; or at least the health or production of his ectoplasm. However it was that happened.

Sometimes he did wonder if Danny was somehow ecto-absorbent and was just stockpiling all the free-floating ectoplasm in the house and town. Of course if that was the case, then Danny’s levels would have dropped a fair bit during his hospital stay. But that didn’t happen, so somehow his body was self-producing. Could be that his body had become accustomed to having ectoplasm and thusly adapted. But factoring in the tail, Jack thinks it’s much more likely that Danny’s ghost was somewhat active inside him. At the very least the tail was definitely Danny-boy’s ghost showing. Just the ghost of his legs, which was still really cool actually!

Jack taps his chin and nods slightly, watching Danny’s tail wiggle around. Danny wasn’t shifting around or even paying the tail any mind, so clearly he was used to. More so than just a few days would really make sense. Heck! Jack had been stuck with an arm brace for weeks once! He firmly never got used to having that, but maybe Danny was just much more adaptable. After all, he had gotten used to living in the worlds most haunted town and house with fondness! Though sometimes he seemed a little fond of ghosts themselves, instead of just the pride of living in a unique town. It was weird, but maybe he saw something they didn’t! Or maybe the little bit of ghostliness he had made him see them a bit differently. Or! Maybe he actually experienced more ghostly stuff than just physical things. Sometimes it did seem like he was forcefully hiding things. And he did hide the tail really effectively, Jack hadn’t even noticed the ghostly body part at all!

Maddie meanwhile, isn’t having any better luck on figuring out how to fix the legs. Possibly Dan could help, but that wasn’t too likely. But at least he might have some different ideas or can look at it from a different perspective. Being a surgeon he definitely had a keener eye and steady hand. Jack had always been more of the inventor and mechanic, and he was definitely not careful or all that keen eyed. She was much more of the scientist and detail oriented. But even she missed things. Looking Dan over quickly, it would be best to set his room up first, even if he wasn’t moved in right now he would be soon enough. Gathering up the plates, “now that everyone’s done their food, you up for finishing up setting up the spare room, Dan?”.

Lewis smiles and nods, it was the polite thing to do of course. Though he wouldn’t really care how it was set up, so long as he’s got a good bed and the area was clean, he’s good. And at least Danny isn’t visibly wincing over his name now, slight deer-in-the-headlights look aside, so positives.

Danny, meanwhile, had had a mild mental freak out thinking that his mom was calling him by that name. Which Jazz clearly picked up on, “and me and Danny can just watch tv. Where you can easily stick your heads out and check on us”. Danny nods a bit stiffly and the three adults nod in return before heading upstairs.

Lewis chuckles at seeing nothing more than a bed and dresser, it was fine really but judging by the rest of the house, minimalism wasn’t really a thing here. Though he knows for damn sure they cleaned up before he came over. People always did if a doctor was coming over or patient returning home. Just like people always bushed their teeth more often before seeing their dentist. These two even more likely did a massive clean up, if the house was really as bad as Danny had implied it to be.

They wind up deciding to just move things around some and add a few more pieces of furniture. Lewis commenting as he pushes around a little side table, “so what theories do you two have over the ghost tail? Being ghost experts and all”.

Jack beams, glad his friend’s curious, even if it was likely largely because of Danny being his patient, “I’m sure there could be many reasons! But we’re both pretty sure the only real option is that it’s the ghost of his legs!”.

Maddie nods, if there were other possibilities they’ve never heard of such things, “I think Danny has enough ectoplasm in his system from the ecto-contamination that it’s able to actually be connected enough to him to materialise his ghost”, sighing slightly, “but of course that means that him becoming a ghost one day is inevitable”. Maddie’s not sure if Danny’s clued in on that fact, if he has then he’s either ignoring it or he’s too ghost tolerant.

Lewis nods, Danny’s already a ghost so they’re not exactly wrong. He just had the tail because he had two bodies with lower extremities, not one. And only one had actually lost them entirely, so the other was simply taking their place until he was fixed up. And he would be fixed up. But Maddie’s bothered sigh definitely did not go unnoticed by Lewis, “you seem bothered by that?”.

Jack shakes his head rapidly, “oh no! The tails kind of cool! And Danny-boys clearly comfortable with it!”.

Maddie giggles slightly and shakes her head at Jack, “not that Jack dear. I’m pretty sure he means the becoming a ghost thing”, Lewis just nods when she looks to him so she answers his question, “of course. Ghosts are dangerous cruel emotionless things. I wouldn’t be happy about anyone become one of those things”, sighing, “but with his ghost being partially formed like this, maybe his ghost won’t lose Danny’s memories or his emotions will carry over to the ectoplasm somehow”.

Lewis frowns a little, ghosts lost their living life’s memories? Though he’s pretty sure ghosts don’t lack emotions. Danny seemed to be entirely emotionally there, if ghosts didn’t have emotions then Danny’s should be muted. They definitely were not. While Jack jumps in, “and he’s a Fenton! If any ghost could be good, it would be a Fenton’s!”.

Lewis tilts his head, “sounds like you’re working under absolutes. Universals. An ‘all ghosts are inherently bad’ theory. I remember taking a few psych courses as an undergrad. The theory of ‘all humans are inherently bad’ was a pretty common and debated one”, waving his hand around some and ignoring their slight frowns, “of course, that was always followed by nothing but objections. Especially with such universals being nothing more than hypotheticals. As the only things truly universal about behavioural universals is that they are universally inaccurate and generally only cloud judgments”, chuckling slightly, “though belief in universals can certainly make my job more interesting. Debating with the inebriated can be quite thought-provoking”, tilting his hand back and forth in the air, “as for dangerous, dangerous can be good. Logically I’m quite dangerous, as are you two. Really, humans as a whole are impressively dangerous, heck dealing with the dangerous side of humans is half my job”. Though Danny’s list of powers implied he was more than just a bit dangerous. Danny was explicitly extremely dangerous actually.

Maddie and Jack exchange a glance, neither going to disagree with his last statement, he probably saw attempted and successful murder victims; and all three of them were definitely dangerous. But they did it for good, ghosts were selfish and only sought to harm or cause mischief. Maddie replying, “you’ve been talking with Danny some, haven’t you?”, shaking her head slightly as she sets up a little light, “sometimes universal are true. Ghosts are nothing but ectoplasm. That’s all that makes up their forms. None of that can convey emotions. They’re driven by nothing but instincts and Obsession. Humans are more complex. Ghosts are what remains after a person dies, all that human complexity staying with the body. The ghost left with nothing but human post-consciousness”.

Jack nods, “ectoplasm that a human mind imprinted their last strongest desires on. Creating the Obsession! Those that die peacefully and satisfied don’t become ghosts”.

Lewis is officially wondering if they know about not all ghosts once being alive. Because if they did they were firmly ignoring that purely to fit their theory, and that doesn’t sound right. So he’s not going to mention that since Danny’s the only reason Lewis knows and they’d question how Danny knew. Though now Lewis is also wondering just what the Hell happened with Danny for him to have a protection focused Obsession. The only thing he can think of is that someone else was in danger at the time. That, or it was because whatever creates a halfa was more than a little weird. Tapping his chin, “people used to believe plants emotionless and uncaring. Until that was proven to be rather wrong; even if they were simple things. And truthfully, humans aren’t complex themselves. Just flesh being able to be put to multiple different uses based off of DNA plans. You could say that the human body and self is nothing more than flesh imprinted by genetic plans created by their parents. And personality, well that’s the whole nature vs nurture debate”, twirling his hand in the air as he re-aligns one of the desk drawers, “plus, universals really do not exist. If there is even one outlier then the universal is untrue. Which is actually largely the bases of nature vs nurture and why there will never truly be an answer. Plus to go on the complexity argument, language requires complexity even if said language didn’t need to be learned. Same with making executive decisions”, tilting his head, “logically, an Obsession of any kind would require executive decision making. Otherwise instincts would actually overrule said Obsession. When it seems pretty clear that Obsession overrules instincts. And even working under the idea that said Obsession is simply the impression of a living beings last strongest thoughts even while dying unpleasantly, then logically most Obsessions would actually be positive rather than harmful. Since most people’s strongest dying desires involve getting peace or wishing to have seen happier times”, frowning slightly because that’s appropriate when talking about death, “I’ve heard even the cruellest of people wish for only that. To eat good food, to be alone, to bask in sunny days, to claim that prize they never could; like fame, fortune, or love. Not a lot of people die wanting to cause harm. Playful mischief sure”.

Jack tilts his head and blinks, that did make sense. And there was Phantom. Who was an outlier to nearly everything.

Maddie shakes her head, “only those of ill intent would be damned to exist as a ghost; and the possibility of Danny becoming a ghost doesn’t count as he became rather ghostly beforehand”.

Lewis shrugs, “powers seem like a dream come true for many. If you ask me, it seems more like the universe acknowledging that someone died horribly, unjustly or with an incomplete existence. Thusly giving their being the chance to indulge in and focus on one thing they valued highly at their time of passing; free from the constraints of the living world and with all the power needed to fulfil their desires”, tilting a hand and his head back and forth a bit, “and maybe some become ghosts because their existence is vital or needed for one reason or another”. Lewis has a gut feeling that the ClockWork ghost was genuinely needed. And maybe Danny had access to so many powers purely because he needed them to fulfil his Obsession, in-fact he had pretty well said that without truly realising the possible deeper meaning.

Jack blinks hard and gapes slightly, muttering, “is Phantom needed to control other ghosts?”, looking to Maddie and asking, “could there be other kinds of ghosts? Ones that are ‘needed’ ghosts and the regular evil ones? Because Phantom, he’s always different. Different kinds of ghosts! Subsections of ghosts! Beyond just dead’s! Whole nother aspects to research! and discover!”.

Lewis blinks, that was not what he was going for but there was multiple kinds of ghosts from what Danny’d said. So this was progress, positives Lewis. Though he might have just made them even more incorrect about Phantom. Since he was, in fact, a ‘dead’ ghost, just not all dead. Like Eddie was technically an alien, just not really.

Maddie scrunches up her eyebrows, that was a very different take on ghosts. And, unlike pretty well every theory they’ve come up with, it accounts for Phantom’s oddness. And Jack was clearly hooked on this idea, of course he was, it meant more possible theories and aspects to research. Tapping her chin, “maybe”, looking at Lewis, “but their existence, powers or not, are a damnation. Being bound to an Obsession, the feral instincts, lacking emotions, the constant battles, being trapped in a dimension of chaos, indefinitely existing in that state”, shaking her head, “even if there could be more than one kind and maybe, possibly, them not be evil and cruel; they’d still be surrounded by ones that are”.

Lewis, coming on a bit of an idea, “so an idea of two races of ghosts. One that’s possibly okay and good due to acting in alignment with what you deem okay. And one race that is automatically bad and evil and thusly lesser, due to behaviours that differ from your own. I feel like I’ve heard this one before”, Lewis let’s them sit with that statement for a bit before continuing, “I’d say there being multiple kinds of ghosts only makes sense. Even something as simple as grass or lilies have hundreds of variants. Even rib bones vary wildly. Blood type, brain structure, skin texture; everything has variants”, shaking his head some, “I still don’t buy the emotionless idea. To go along with my earlier idea of becoming a ghost functionally being a gift in repentance for an inadequate life. I’d say it’s likely ghosts like being as they are. An Obsession that’s more like a well-loved hobby. Instincts can be fun or lifesavers, otherwise no one would like adrenaline rushes even half as much as they do. Even humans love fighting, so that’s a moot point. One persons chaos is another’s persons idea of freedom, hence why so many people wish the apocalypse would actually happen”, Lewis shrugs, “people love the idea of the break down of societal norms and spending their days fighting, living as they please. And maybe ghosts only exist as long as they need to or until they’re finally satisfied”.

Maddie and Jack share a look, their running theory was that ghosts ‘moved on’ once their Obsession was satisfied. And neither really have anything to counteract Dan’s statements this time. This wasn’t some whimsical idealism from their kids or other teens. This was coming from someone who had definitely seen the darker side to the world, was highly educated -more so than them in truth-, and didn’t truly have invested interest or stakes in what they believed. Maddie mutters, “maybe so”, as she looks out over Amity through the window. Their town was basically a ghost playground and as much as she tried to ignore everything Phantom did, there’s no way her and Jack -even with the help of The Red Huntress- could keep a handle on all the ghosts. They needed sleep, they got hurt easier, they weren’t naturally equipped with weapons; the list went on. So saying Phantom was...needed...wasn’t, wrong.

Jack scratches his head some, many people did say the Fenton’s were chaos. But it was their chaos and they loved it. He was also oddly reminded of the war.

Lewis, seeing they’re both off in their own little worlds, decides to ground all these hypotheses and detached contemplations. Because regardless of how overarching the ideas were or what his two friends' passion was, Danny -or more so Danny’s ghost- was the end focus. He’s positive, without a doubt, they value their kids above their opinions and research. Clearing his throat and walking next to the couple looking out the window, “all this conjecture aside. There’s one thing I think we can all agree is more than likely an eventual certainty, is Danny becoming a ghost”.

Maddie simply nods while Jack says, “yeah”.

“One of the big things those of us in the medical field are taught is patient relations. You don’t just tell someone they have a horribly disfiguring condition, that only serves to hurt them and make them more difficult. Or, if I am to be blunt, make them seek to destroy themselves. If someone has to deal with something eventually for the rest of their days, telling them how horrible it is, is the opposite of a good idea”. Lewis simply nods slightly to himself over their mildly horrified faces, clearly realising where they’ve messed up. Because honestly? Even if they were right and Danny wasn’t already a ghost and thusly aware they were wrong, telling him that what he was/would likely become were all inherently evil violent monsters; was dumb, unhealthy, and kind of mean. If Eddie did that to Vee, everyone would be being eaten by aliens right now. If he hadn’t just accepted Vee changing their mind and hadn’t been basically complimenting them, even with all the gratuitous murder; Lewis, Eddie and Anne would all be very dead. Or Eddie would just be a meat puppet.

Tilting his head and thinking on that, “I have a friend. They come from a family of violence, killers even. Yet they are arguably good, they save lives even. They’re supported, encouraged, to be good. And just a little tiny bit of that encouragement and support was all they needed to do good”, looking at the two of them, who look back, “if you tell someone they’re doomed to be evil or bad, they’re likely going to be. Even if you don’t say them specifically. And saying ‘oh you’re an exception’, doesn’t help”, looking back out the window and tilting his head, “in fact, that’ll just make them feel like a weird freak. Some folks like being the freak and outlier, but most want to fit in. Even if that means doing bad. Groupthink, herd mentality, conformity. Not always a good thing”.

Deciding now might the time to leave them be, instead of overwhelming them, Lewis turns and heads to the door, speaking cheerily, “now I’m going to check on my patient before I have to head out”.

Danny had decidedly ignored the upstairs conversation after Lewis had basically played the racism card, which was firmly jarring. But also made him think, there really wasn’t any issues between the different kinds of ghosts. Sure clans and kingdom stuck to themselves, but ghosts were solitary in general. Really halfas were the only ones treated a bit different, but that made sense. They were literally their own different species in a sense. Halfas bodies followed different rules. But ghosts didn’t treat them like shit. Pretty much just treated him like another ghost, a very rare strong ghost. Vlad was treated more like a human though, so clearly it was more behaviour based. Because Danny did absolutely behave more ghostly, but he was also more ghost than Vlad. Eh, whatever.

Looking at Lewis as he comes down the stairs, “CW would like you. You think outside the box and can be a deep bastard”.

Lewis chuckles and shakes his head, “that’s some good hearing you’ve got”. Danny gives a slightly awkward attempt at a thumbs up, while Lewis comes over and indeed looks over the braces and bandaging. Because it’s frankly something of a miracle that he hasn’t ruined Lewis’s work yet again. Clapping Danny on the shoulder as he stands up, “look at that, it’s all intact. I feel like I should give you a sucker or something”.

Danny gives an attempt at flipping him off, he can’t bend his fingers enough to truly pull it off though, “oh piss off, maybe I’ll light it all on fire just to bug you”.

Jazz shakes her head, “please don’t”.

Lewis chuckles and shakes his head before heading out. If Eddie said that he’d be worried, but Danny was a jokester.

Danny’s not sure what to do about his folks giving him weird looks the rest of the evening and he’s firmly happy when there’s a knock on the door and Jazz opens it to reveal Sam, Tuck and Val. Danny instantly sending them an, probably overacted, expression of ‘dear Ancients please save me’. The three shake their heads and/or chuckle, before eyeballing his hover cushion. Tuck snorts and bends over laughing, Danny just rolls his eyes and points over his shoulder at the stairs. Everyone promptly following him to his room.

Sam and Tuck instantly flopping down in their beanie bags while Val stops and scrunches up her nose, Danny points a hand at her, “don’t you go telling me my room smells like death with a side of death”. She gives him a look clearly saying that it indeed does. So okay fine, maybe he really should clean.

Danny promptly parks the hover cushion on the ground, floats over to his bed, and sits on it. Val joining him and looking at the hover cushion, “why are you even using that? Probably better to practice with the tail”.

Sam, Tucker, and Danny all responding, “parents”. Valerie just shakes her head, Danny’s parents disliked ghosts a lot but surely not so much they’d stop him from getting around with what he’s got? Maybe Danny was just trying to avoid freaking them out, that was a very Danny thing to do. Absentmindedly petting at Danny’s tail as it sort of wiggles and coils around her arm and legs, Danny was clearly just letting it do what it wanted. Firmly ignoring how Sam is just glaring at her, the ear full she had gotten from the two on the way over had been a bit much. She was glad he had such good friends, but that didn’t make dealing with the protectiveness any less unpleasant. Deciding to ignore Sam even more by flopping to actually lay down, patting the vibrating tail, “I’m almost surprised your dad’s not making you do excerise laps with it. But yeah I guess it’s smart to warm them up to it slowly”.

Tucker snorts, “I’m surprised they haven’t already stuck him in leg prototypes”.

Danny points at him, making a damn point to not purr contentedly from Val’s lazy petting. Which just yay, she was more or less comfortable with it. Gesturing at his waist, “oh they totally did. It’s practically finished, just some kinks, namely that it supercharged my ‘plasm”, vibrating the tail a bit excessively which Val does jerk, startled, a bit over. While Danny continues speaking, “tail was literally and figuratively vibrating out of my skin. Still a little hard to wrangle in”.

Valerie gives it another pat, the end curling around her wrist, “at least it’s healed and healthy though”.

Tucker raises an eyebrow and laughs, “wait, they actually made something that strengthened ectoplasm? Seriously?”.

Danny points at him, “and it was somewhat intentional. They’re making a point of not letting the, yes they already named them, CyberSteps take too much of my ‘plasm as fuel and they built in this reserve thing, but there’s timer issues and stuff. Oh, and get this”, Danny smirks, full well knowing his friends will get it but Val will be a bit confused, “the colour palette is light grey with dark grey boots. Pale and dark green lines over top. Very cyber jumpsuit esque”.

Sam and Tucker exchange a glance and smirk. Of course his folks went with Danny’s original jumpsuit design. Tucker chuckles, “your dead shits always gotta have the suiting colour scheme I guess dude”, smirking, “they just had to get you in one even if you had to die a little”.

Danny smirks right back, “it is a killer look, very form-fitting for my very literal dead ass. Phantom skins for phantom limbs”.

Tucker blinks, goes slightly wide-eyed and points at Danny, leaning forward out of his beanie bag, “more like Phantom tin, you’re a metal ass now”, speaking with meaning and thick humour, “you... tincan”.

Danny blinks, oh Ancients Skulker was going to have a field day with this. He might mock him or be proud, hard to say. Smirking devilishly, “only half tin-can. So skin-can”.

Valerie screws up her face, she did not need that mental image, and smacks Danny’s head, “that’s disgusting!”.

Danny just laughs, “well I got opened up like a can!”, before flopping down to lay partly across her stomach, tail coiling around his waist some and flicking off the bed, “I’m awful and I know it”.

Sam glares slightly at the two, while Tucker almost awkwardly says, “then clap your hands?”. Which Danny actually does, making everyone laugh a little. Before Sam and Tucker both get up and join the two on the bed.

Danny snickers, “can’t wait till these braces are off, then I’ll have back my right to bare arms”.

Val sighs but smiles slightly, “I wish you still had the right to legs”.

Danny snorts, “I guess I just didn’t have enough of a motional attachment to stop doc from spiriting them away”.

“Zone goddamnit Danny”.

Danny smirks and pokes Valerie and Sam with his tail, “what? Ya can’t expect me to have any decency, after all, I’ve got no soles”.

Sam groans, though internally smiling, Danny making jokes was always a sign either he was good or he was getting his ass absolutely handed to him. “And now the horrible jokes come out”.

Danny snickers, he had so much new material to work with now; leg jokes, amputation jokes, robot jokes, should probably work on some...cannibalism jokes, “I would complain about you trashing on my great choice of words, but I’ve got no legs to stand on”.

Val wheezes, sounding almost pained. While Tucker pokes Danny, “at least that one won’t be applicable soon”.

Danny waves him off, “eh, I can just detach ‘em”.

Tucker debates right back, “but you still own said legs. So you still have legs, attached or not”.

“Fuck you and your semantics”.

After sitting in silence for a bit Tucker pipes up, “soooooo... sworn to secrecy? Any gossip you ain’t gonna be tight-lipped about?”.

Both Sam and Valerie asking, “‘sworn to secrecy’?”. Which Tucker laughs over before sitting up and looking at the two girls, ignoring Danny’s slight glare as Tucker responds, “doctor dudes been telling Danny tales about his friends and Danny here hinted at some of them being more than a little weird”.

Valerie quirks an eyebrow at Danny, not surprised there was more stories, “the ones who had a lovers quarrel that involved assault with a fridge and Lewis getting hit with a pan?”.

Sam shakes her head, “are we talking about the ones that got into a car chase with bombs and attempted to murder your doctor?”. Valerie coughs and goes a bit wide-eyed at that and squints at Danny with an ‘are you serious?’ look.

Danny chuckles, “oh yeah, seeing as those two are apparently his only friends, shits been out of this world”, Danny jabs Tucker a bit hard, “and I ain’t got any stories to be telling. Probably shoulda asked him while he was here if I could”.

Valerie scoffs, dramatic Danny, “oh whatever, if he’s telling you then clearly it’s not really secret”.

“Val, I practically know their life stories. I wouldn’t even be surprised at this point if Lewis showed up with baby pictures”. Danny almost hopes he does, because baby phots of aliens, he is so here for that. They probably don’t exist though. Heck, what would baby balls of slime or whatever even look like? Tiny slimes? Little blobs of goo? Are their cradles just like little play doo containers? How would a ball of goo even have kids? How are they born? Was Vee a tiny little blob of black murder once? A murder baby of questionable size and solidity? Heck, did Symbiotes even care for their young? He’s pretty sure the answer to that one is a firm no. Muttering, “now I’m making myself sad”.

Sam shakes her head, “hey, I’m supposed to be the one supplying doom and gloom here, not your doctors friends and babies”. While Valerie fiddles with Danny’s tail, “how does babies even make someone sad?”.

Danny sticks his arms up into the air, “I’m just thinking of them all tiny and alone. Just a little mess left to survive by chance or die”.

Valerie shakes her head, she knew how rough circumstances or childhood could lead to being weird, abandoned from birth would be worse for sure, “no wonder doctor guy described them as being a drunkard mess”.

Danny waves her off, “oh no, the drunkard is the other friend”.

Valerie breathes out, “sweet Zone, well does that one have a good reason?”.

Danny snorts and promptly nods but says nothing, which Tucker groans over, “awww come on man. How ‘bout we call the doc and ask?”.

“He’s probably in surgery Tuck, having his personal time with the bone saw. Though Anne’s probably off work by now, if she left just as early this morning as yesterday”.

Tucker laughs, “ooooh the lady, I approve this plan. And what, doc attached to the tools of his trade”, Tucker gives his PDA a quick peck for effect. While Sam grumbles about how that would be so dangerous to do with a saw.

Danny chuckles a little, while Tucker goes about calling the Lewis house, probably through the microwave. Danny commenting, “I’m not about to claim to know how much a surgeon is supposed to use that, but I don’t think it’s that much. And Tuck, Anne seems more likely to throw a fashionable heel at you, than amuse your womanising ways”.

Sam smiles and sighs, “I like her already”. Sam, Danny and Valerie all groan at Tucker actually going through with calling.

Anne’s voice coming through sounding only slightly annoyed, “use the phone”, then promptly giving the house number. Sam hangs up for Tucker at that point and everyone waits for Anne to pick up from the actual house phone.

She sounds quite pleased with herself, “there, that’s much better. If you’re also calling for a rain check to clean up a questionable mess, I will be a bit amused”.

Danny coughs, pretty sure ‘questionable mess’ translated to bloodbath, “Zone no, Tuck wants the gossip on your twos odd friends. And unlike a certain doc, I don’t ‘tell tales’ as he puts it. Without the go-ahead anyway”.

Tucker, Sam, and Valerie then give out a chorus of hellos and Tucker throws in his two cents, “y’all know Danny dudes weird shit, me and the goth know all his shit. And the girlfriend knows a bit”.

Valerie grumbles, “hey, I think I know him pretty well”.

Anne’s pretty sure that’s one blatant way to say that the ‘girlfriend’ definitely did not know somethings. She’d thrown off a text to the group chat pretty well as soon as Danny had stopped talking, not even surprised when the response had been ‘you’re a better judge of character than I am. AND LESS OF AN IDIOT. Asshole. TELL THEM WE WILL EAT THEIR SPLEEN IF THEY HURT EDDIE. Fuck no, don’t’, at least Vee had the decency to always use all caps. Anne huffs, amused, before responding to the collection of teens, “your friends hardly seem like the super law-abiding type, so go ahead. Eddie’s signed off on it, and Vee only threatened to eat their spleens, which a person can live without, so that’s as good as a green light as there is”.

Danny cringes a little, “I’m assuming said eating is more of a ‘don’t hurt us or else’ than anything else?”, Valerie just coughs a bit startled. While Tucker mutters, “I like my spleen though”. Sam just laughs.

“Yeah, Vee’s the protective type”.

Sam, Tucker and Valerie all groan, Tucker jabbing Danny in the arm, “well that definitely sounds familiar. Though I think I’d choke if Danny-dude threatened someone with organ eating”.

Anne chuckles, “it’s Vee’s go to, not that they even need a reason to threaten someone. They threatened to decapitate a pigeon at lunch today. You kids really should be going to bed, don’t get in too much trouble; or at least get into less than Eddie and Vee do”.

They all say bye at Tucker’s PDA as she hangs up. Danny shaking his head a little, while Tucker laughs, “sounds like they truly are as reckless as our idiot”, then sitting up and looking down at Danny, “so spill dude, just how weird are the two friends that doctor dude thinks they’re weirder than you, a guy with a ghostly tail instead of legs and whatnot”.

Danny puts up his hands and says with a goofy smirk, “aliens”, then shrugging, “or alien really”. Because really, that is absolutely what should be started with.

Valerie raises an eyebrow after a bit, “oh you’re serious, are you sure they’re not pulling your leg?”.

Danny chuckles, “if Vee’s human I will eat my carpet”.

Valerie grimaces while Tucker laughs, though Sam’s the one to ask, “that convincing? Where they from then?”.

Danny throws his hands around animatedly, “besides space, which is awesome, Klyntar, also the species name. Called Symbiotes here though. Crazy mad scientist dude brought them here and tried to fuse people to them to survive in space, yeah really dumb. He got blown up in a rocket”.

Sam grunts, “same rocket Lewis said these friends blew up? And yeah Lewis probably isn’t lying with there being genuine details”.

Tucker pokes Danny, “if you replace us with an alien I will be sad but also impressed”. While Valerie mutters, “no wonder doctor isn’t bothered by weird. I guess aliens ain’t that much different from ghosts”.

Danny chuckles before raising an eyebrow and snorting, elbowing Valerie, “you might actually think they ain’t all that different. Unless your opinions on ghosts have changed”.

Valerie grumbles, “a little I guess. Less evil, more just usually bad”. Both Sam and Tucker mockingly gape and gasp. Danny just grins like an idiot a little and wiggles his tail in the air, “spooktastic. The better ghosts probably don’t come to the land of the living much. But Symbiotes, Vee’s literally exiled and was basically supposed to be killed for not being a totally evil world-conquering and devouring monster. Because they want to coexist and love their host. It’s really adorable actually”, Danny snickers a little, “it’s a Disney Princess story where true love saves the world, just uh, with aliens and explosions and body snatching and human experimentation and probably a lot of death”. Danny grumbles, because really, he’s not sure how he feels about the idea of his very human, and thus more vulnerable, friends being around someone who eats humans, “still weird Eddie’s just okay with body roommate lover and the whole diet thing. Through that does take attached at the hip to its highest conclusion”, tilting his head and poking Valerie, “it’d be like you dating your suit, if it was sentient”.

Valerie glances at her arm a bit incredulously, while Tucker smacks Danny’s arm, “wait, hold up, Vee lives inside Eddie? Literally symbiotic? That sounds like it might be hilarious. And lots of death? And you, with your shit, are okay with that?”.

Danny nods rapidly, “Vee’s, like, just a puddle of black goo that squishes around Eddie’s organs and shit”, before shrugging awkwardly, “as for the death thing, me and Doc had one intense ass conversation about that. I don’t approve, not even kinda, but I understand. And I guess, technically, it’s not much different than humans eating cows”, Danny looks around at the confused and slightly concerned faces, poking Tucker, “you remember the whole need to eat meat thing that you were slightly jealous of? Yeah, very specifically human meat, so maybe don’t be jealous at all”.

Valerie coughs, that’s more than just disgusting. Tucker pulls a face but shrugs, “I mean, I’d try if offered”. Everyone looks at him judgingly, while Danny shakes his head, “I wouldn’t tell them that if I were you. I seriously wouldn’t be surprised if they shoved a chunk of something in your face”.

Sam gets up and shakes her head, “that’s disgusting”, continuing to speak while gathering up her stuff, “but if they’re not here then whatever-”.

Tucker butts in as he gets up too, “oh no, Danny dude said he was gonna hang out with them”.

Both Valerie and Sam hit Danny and snap, “idiot! Why?!?”.

Danny shrugs exaggeratedly, it was probably stupid to agree to that but ClockWork approved and they did have a ton in common, “we’ve got somethings in common, very black and white fellow and timely too. And aliens! I have so many questions! They’re, like, super super old; who knows all the planets they’ve been to!”.

Sam facepalms and shakes her head, though picking up that ClockWork said this was fine and these two must be heroes or something, “you’re a reckless idiot”, putting her hand on her hip, “if they hurt you or eat you, I’ll be finding something new for your parents to want to dissect”, then looking to Valerie, “you coming?”.

Valerie rolls her eyes and glares, scooting to sit with her back leaning against Danny’s shoulder, “I don’t need to head home yet”. While Danny mutters, “can you even dissect a sorta liquid?”, before shaking his head and giving Sam an unimpressed look, his friends could be far too protective, “Sam, she’s fine and I don’t think you have to worry about Vee, they sound pretty darn wrapped around Eddie’s finger. Through Eddie might be wrapped around theirs too”.

Sam sighs, “idiot”. Danny’s pretty sure she’s talking about the whole dating Val A.K.A a ghost hunter with extreme prejudice, thing this time. He’s not sure if he should be happy or preparing for an impending verbal lashing when she huffs, shakes her head and turns out the door with a clipped “yeah whatever, see ya”.

Tucker chuckles at Sam’s back before pointing at Valerie, “I could hack your suit. Danny deserves the best, it’s no secret we don’t really think that’s you”.

Danny growls a little, “for fucks sake, that’s up to me I’d say”.

Tucker just chuckles and waves as he heads out. Danny floating over to his window and watching Tucker run to catch up with Sam. Their hearts were in the right places but it was kind of annoying.

Turning his head to Val on the bed and floating back over. Promptly wrapping his tail around her waist, “they're great friends, just a little much sometimes I guess”.

She shakes her head and flips to lay back down, functionally dragging Danny down with, while she speaks, “I’d say make more friends but your idea of doing that apparently involves weird doctors and what I'm pretty sure qualifies as a sorta cannibal”.

Danny chuckles a little awkwardly, normal friends would never work out for him, “yeah, and you don’t seem phased by your suit getting brought up? Did you tell them too? You better have done a better job of those reveals”.

Valerie shrugs, shoving part of a blanket between where Danny’s leaning on top of her slightly and herself. Those braces were pretty darn hard, “they’re practically attached to you, no way they weren’t going to know. I just told them bluntly, I don’t care what they think, Danny. I’m definitely not dating them, though we’ll probably become closer friends now I guess. Could Tucker seriously hack my suit though? I know he’s good but still”.

Danny nods immediately, “I’d be shocked if there’s anything he can’t hack. And I’m not sure if that’s a better or worse reveal. You disappoint me”. Valerie just hits him lightly and they lay in silence for a while, the glow from Danny’s tail the only real source of light in the dark room. Which Danny gets slightly annoyed with the brightness of and throws a blanket over top, sure he was used to his glow being around but genuine darkness was nice to have sometimes; even with his perfect dark vision. Muttering with a bit of a laugh, “I’ll never need another flashlight or nightlight”.

Valerie fiddles with the blanket and yawns, “less it’s covered. The whole legs thing”.

“Yeah, guess it won’t, or shouldn’t anyway, show through those”, Danny chuckles, “you’re not going home, are you?”. Valerie just smirks and shakes her head, before readjusting into the blankets.

Danny’s not surprised Val’s still there in the morning, what he is surprised by is it being just past noon when he wakes up. Looking out the window and just barely catching himself from asking out loud ‘where the heck are all the ghosts?!?!?’, surely Amorpho isn’t still running around playing hero? Pushing himself to sit up and turning to look at Val, who’s fixing her hair in his bedroom mirror, “mornin’ anything interesting while I was out?”.

She pulls a bobby pin out of her mouth and shoves it into her curly hair, “there was some ghosts I chased down if that’s what you’re asking. Box, Technus, some animals. At least three things have blown up in the basement lab, might be the same three things though”, walking over and poking Danny, who looks a little confused, “ghosts being near makes you shiver or something, since when did you have a ghost sensor? And yes, I figured out how to turn mine off”, grumbling to herself incoherently, because she needed to find some way to make her stuff exclude Danny’s tail.

Danny blinks, partly wondering why the Zone he didn’t wake up -probably something to do with being injured or something- and slightly annoyed that after all this time now is when someone actually notices his ghost sense. Though yeah, if there was ever going to be anyone who noticed his ghostly shit, it would be Val. Rubbing his neck and thusly getting firmly reminded of the stupid braces, “weird, usually that wakes me up”, stretching out and grumbling about being sore. While Val raises an eyebrow at him, “so that’s normal? I pretty much used you as a ghost sensor, chased them off pretty quick so maybe that’s why you didn’t wake up”.

Danny squints at her with his arms over his head, “did you even sleep? And, uh, yeah normal. Like my little bit of ectoplasm, since you know I’ve got that shit, reacting to their ecto-field or something”.

Valerie tilts her head and laughs a little, she could use something like that, “guess that’s why you never seem to get caught where ghosts are. You know they’re there and reasonably avoid them”.

Danny puts a hand to his chest and speaks with mock offence, “me? Reasonable? Never”. Considering he actively ran at them, which arguably wasn’t a reasonable thing to do. It was what was right and his need of course, but still arguably dumb and dangerous. It was also part of his ghostly nature to fight, socialise like any ghost would.

Valerie shakes her head with a smile and pushes his shoulder, which he just moves with and lays back down on his bed; her shrugging and crawling in to lay next to him. It was a little weird having a ghostly tail wrapping around her ankle and leg rather than a second pair of legs, not to mention a little cold, but it wasn’t bad. Snickering a bit as rubbing her foot over the tip of It makes him shiver, Danny just blushes a little. The moment getting ruined by a loud bang from downstairs, Danny, chuckling awkwardly, “probably should see what they’re doing”.

Valerie sighs but relents and gets up, trying not to side-eye Danny too much as he floats over to the hover cushion, it was clearly not made to fit all of his tail, “any clue what they’re working on by chance?”.

Danny snorts and spins the hover cushion in a little circle, “besides legs? And things for them? No clue. Honestly, that’s probably all they’re working on. Which yeah, little worrying, considering the exploding”.

Valerie raises an eyebrow as she steps out the door, “a ‘little’?”. Danny just rolls his eyes as he follows her down the steps.

Danny shakes his head at the slightly ridiculous amount of pancakes on the table, his mom looking a little flustered. Danny speaking as he hovers over to his chair and grabs a plate, “Uh? What’s going on? Thanks for the food though”. Valerie opening and closing her mouth a few times before shaking her head and joining Danny at the table for food.

Maddie looks over Valerie, who must have spent the night, and raises an eyebrow at Danny, “trying to distract from a bit of inventors block sweetie. And morning Valerie”, she says that last bit with a slightly unimpressed tone.

Danny rolls his eyes and smirks a little, swallowing bits of pancakes before speaking, “it’s not like I can really do anything”, Valerie chokes a bit at that and Maddie gapes at him, while Danny keeps talking, “guessing the timing stuff still isn't cooperating? And heh, bit too soon?”.

Maddie puts on a smile and nods slightly, she’s not sure if she should be happy about the joking or not. And that fact that’s he’s right isn’t really something she wants to think about really. He can’t have kids. Not that that should really be a concern for him right now. Jack thankfully saves them from the silence as he bounds up the steps and grins wide, “you’re up! Sleep good!”, Jack keeps speaking after Danny nods, “great! CyberSteps are still giving us some hassle, but! The framework and design is more solidified! So long as you’re cool with the look of them anyway”.

Danny smiles slightly, “do they look pretty well the same as what I saw yesterday?”.

Jack nods eagerly, “yup! Just a bit more defined! Dan gave us some tips on the way muscles would be shaped, so we adjusted some. Looks more realistic!”. Jack nods curtly more so to himself, well aware that Danny-boy wanted these to look realistic, shape wise anyway. Though he’s definitely glad Danny didn’t want them flesh coloured. Still a bit off-putting what exactly they were, replacement legs, but it was almost like working on exoskeleton! And impressing Dan was an awesome bonus!

Danny raises an eyebrow, “Lewis’s here? And yeah, in that case, the design’s fine with me”. Danny will be surprised if the legs don’t undergo some design changes though, who knows how they’ll have to be modified for the timer thing to work. He’s sure his folks will figure that out eventually, he’s not even sure what he’ll do if they can’t figure something out. Dealing with the regrowing legs thing will be an even bigger basket of problems in that case.

Jack nods and points a thumb over his shoulder at the lab doors, “awesome! He’s been down helping! And! Pretty sure he said he’s going to be moving in tomorrow too! Having him here is sure an interesting reminder that I wasn’t actually the strangest of my college buddies!”.

Danny mutters, “understatement, fruit-loops got you both beat by a mile and a half”. He’s not sure anyone other than someone legitimately insane could out crazy Vlad. While Jack sticks a finger in the air, going a bit a wide-eyed, clearly having just remembered something; before running back down the lab stairs.

Danny had just shoved another fork full of pancake in his mouth as Jack comes back up with a little flat disc thing cradled in his hands. Danny can’t help but snort as his dad puts it on Danny’s plate, it was roughly the same shape and thickness as a pancake. While Jack starts talking animatedly, “we’ve made some progress but it’s still super touchy! It keeps blowing up when we get it too close to something with an ecto-field! Which is of course no good...”, Danny pretty well tunes his dad out and stares down at the little device. He was something with an ecto-field.

And as if on queue, said device cuts off whatever else Jack happened to be saying and promptly explodes; sending pancakes and syrup flying everywhere.

Which makes for an interesting scene for Lewis to walk up from the lab to. Blinking and looking around, there’s pancake stuck to pretty well every surface and Danny’s plate is smoking. Danny just looks to him slowly and sighs.

Danny, taking in Lewis’s tousled up hair -that somehow still looks poster-worthy even with also being peppered with ash- and his burnt dress shit with its sleeves rolled up stylishly, “mornin’ doc, and welcome to the Fenton household”.

Lewis just watches a pancake slowly slide off the top of Danny’s head and back onto his plate, at least his bandaging and braces looked intact. Positives, Lewis, positives.

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joonietonin · 5 years

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Open Heart Book 1 Finale Rant:

Let me start by saying that this will probably be one of my last analytical posts for a while. That makes me a little sad but I'm also very grateful to all of you who read my posts and motivated me to keep on writing. Truly, I had the time of my life writing the analyses. Now, this post was getting too long so I chopped it off I two parts- this one which is a general recap and my comment on the chapter and another one which I will be posting later today which will be purely about Ethan and MC's relationship. So y'all are looking at a LOT of content to read, I'm apologizing before hand! Okay no more sad talk except the evident fact that today was Open Heart Book 1 finale. Which means we'll have to live without Ethan Ramsey and the squad for quite some time. But focusing on the better things today:

The finale was everything! I felt a wave of emotions as I played it. I felt joy, triumph, anger, passion and hope all at the same time. Let's talk about what happened. (My MC is female, pronouns: she/her) So, Declan (or should I say Dick-lan) Nash had quite a few tricks up his sleeve huh, getting Dr. Cyrus and Dr. Wen to wager for him, lol, he really underestimated MC and the team of people backing her up.

I think it was a group effort when it comes to saving MC's career where MC of course deserves maximum of the credit because of all the patients who testified (Willow, Remy, Jake and Annie for me) on her behalf- if she hadn't gone above and beyond for her patients they wouldn't have given such honest and positive statements on her behalf. So props to MC, first! Then, props to the amazing friends MC has.. Sienna, Elijah, Rafael, Jackie, Bryce.. I mean those guys are basically her support system. Without them hyping her up and motivating her, her case would've fallen flat. Also, we can't forget Ines and Zaid, they're polar opposites and have weird ways of showing their love for MC but they've always been there for her. (even Zaid lmao ikr he's a total softie at heart) And most importantly, her friends always stood up for her. So here's to MC's friends!

Next up, to Ethan Ramsey (the light of MC's/my life) who really did not disappoint when he said he wasn't out of tricks. This man really went above and beyond to get hold of Mrs. Martinez's son and show him how happy his mother was before she passed away. Even if Ethan wasn't your LI and was just your mentor, he kind of singlehandedly saved MC from the potential lawsuit. It shows how much he cares about her, romantically or otherwise. He thinks MC is one of the best doctors he has ever seen and he did everything in his power to make sure, MC could be the doctor she has always wanted to be. That man cares for MC and even though he won't say it explicitly, his actions do much more than his words ever could. Therefore, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, the light of my life, here's to you. The man who cares for MC beyond all words. Even when MC herself has accepted that Ethan won't be able to help her out, Ethan kept pushing himself to find some loophole so that he could help her. And he did exactly that. That's why, I stan one (1) man.😌🥂

Next up, of course, is my moody baby yet smol bean Aurora Emery. She had her own way of standing up for MC. Like she said, "That wasn't for you, MC. That was for me." Maybe her intentions were to stand up for herself but doing so, in the process, she stood up for MC and finally knocked some sense into Harper Emery. I think her whole rant to Harper is one of the major reasons why Harper voted for MC to stay. So thanks, Aurora. Here's looking forward to actually being friends with her... or more. *wink*

Last but not the least, we have *drumrolls please* Dr. Naveen Banerji, who is now miraculously cured by MC's brilliant epiphany and Ethan's genius mind. I kinda expected Naveen to enter at the last moment but when he actually did, I swear I squealed like a five year old as if I hadn't been reading all the theories all week round about him walking in at the last moment. Anyways, I love that old man with my whole damn heart. He's literally like a father to MC like he's to Ethan. A grandmentor, if you will. And just like MC saved his life, he in turn saved MC's life=career. We've reached a full circle, my friends. So here's to you Naveen, nay the force be with you. (Y'all see what I did there? No? Okay, why do I try to be funny...)

So, basically Landry is gone. FOR GOOD. I'm glad PB didn't force a redemption arc on us. While I'm happy that Landry brought Naveen down, I don't think that one action forgives all the terrible things he has done. So bye bye dirty Laundry, here's hoping I never see you again. Also YAY! AURORA IS OUR NEW ROOMMATE. Not confirmed yet, but y'all know she'll say yes. Sienna has a crush on Danny- YAS OTP. But I do realise that we'll probably have to pay diamonds to set them up next book. Elijah and Phoebe going strong- YAS ANOTHER OTP. Jackie finally admitting defeat that MC would probably win the competition - HELL YAS, now that was a good redemption arc. Overall, I'm very happy how the things turned out for MC's friends.

Now, like I said at the starting of the post, I'll talk about Ethan and MC in detail in my next post but to sum it up, Ethan and MC had mind-blowing sex one last time before they had to face the reality of their situation. Now, I don't necessarily think they're back to square one because let's be real, you clearly care about the other person, you've had sex with them and you kiss them like there's no tomorrow, you can't really expect for nothing to happen even in a professional setting. Like, I do respect MC and Ethan's commitment to their job but then I think they can find some time for themselves.. you know.. for talking.. and dating.. and doing other things. Also, MC's friends finding out about her and Ethan- THAT SCENE WAS EVERYTHING I EVER HOPED FOR. Also, Naveen choosing MC for the position in the diagnostics team was already foreshadowed but I swear that man is the biggest Ethan×MC shipper. He's here for the angst, the mutual pining and he's sure as hell gonna enjoy how long these two struggle before finally giving in. Anyways, I won't lie but even though I'm a little sad that MC and Ethan aren't (officially) a couple, (we all know they've been married for over a year now) I think it will be nice to see the angst and this new phase of their relationship where MC directly works under Ethan and he gets to mentor her even more closely. It will be fun to see their mutual pining now that they've finally pulled the plug and had sex and kind of fallen in love with each other. The angst will be great and like I said earlier, along with Naveen it will be fun for us to see how long these two struggle before they finally give in and say,"Fuck work ethics. Adrian Raines knew better."

So, that's the end of this rant. The Ethan×MC post will be up soon. I want it to be special, like Ethan once said. And here's hoping they release book two soon although rationally speaking I don't see the book coming this summer. It'll probably release in fall. Guess we gotta wait, but some things are simply worth the wait. And I guess, we're all fighting the inevitable. *wink*

#playchoices #pixelberry #open heart #choices: open heart #choices stories you play #dr ethan ramsey #mc x ethan #mc x ethan ramsey #naveen banerji #harper emery #aurora emery #jackie varma #bryce lahela #rafael aveiro #sienna trinh #elijah greene #edenbrook

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welcometophu · 4 years

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Into the Split: Reinforcements - Interlude

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Reinforcements - Interlude

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Summer, ~30 years ago

Alia,

Well, I’m home. Honestly, I think you’d like it here. Yes, I know, you’re reading this and objecting and complaining about not wanting to be surrounded by Mages. You don’t mind me, do you? Think about how utterly bored you’d be if we hadn’t lived on the same floor this year. Admit it, you were glad when you smelled me out. You walked into my room growling and wrinkling your nose and then you sat down and stayed, even though Megan really thought you were nuts.

I wonder what it would be like if they knew who we were. If they had any idea what we are, and that we’re right here living among them. Mages. Clan. Everything. I just wonder—how can they have no idea?

Anyway. I’ve got three months of farming, cooking, planning, and everything else I’m expected to do for summer work. It’s a good thing I’ve got a good scholarship because kids in my community don’t get outside jobs to pay for school. But we’re kind of a commune, so it works out. They say it takes a village to raise a kid, and in our case, the whole village sends that kid to college, too.

Say you’ll come visit.

Peace and magic,

Val

Val,

You do realize that I am just as busy as you are over the summer, yes? I’m expected to spend time in the fields, and time with the little ones, particularly those who are having difficulty with their shifts. I also work with the textiles. I knit and weave, and I am learning dyeing, although I hate the stench of the dyes. They reek, and I can’t get it out of my clothes.

I’ve been swimming in the river, though. I think you’d like it. There’s a place where it opens up and the current moves swiftly down one side, while it’s lazy on the other side. We take inner tubes out there and just rest and laugh.

Your commune is as small as mine, isn’t it? There are a few others my age. Three who have come back from school in the years ahead of me, and more who stayed out. I don’t have to come back until I graduate. It’s not required, but I like it here. Out there is interesting, and yes, I met you, but here… this is home.

There are only two others from my school year here, and both of them went far further for their schooling. Eddie is happy to be back and isn’t sure he wants to leave again in the fall when his next semester begins. Mary thinks she wants to be a veterinarian and is petitioning to stay at school longer in order to bring those skills back to our community. She’s smart; I think she’ll be able to do it.

I’ll see if I can visit. I can’t easily explain where I’m going.

- Alia

Alia,

Okay, so, I know you just left and I’m already writing a letter. You won’t get it for a week anyway, with the way mail travels from VT to rural NY, right? Well, a few days. But the point is: it was awesome to see you, and I’m so glad you were able to come, and thank you for visiting. I’m glad we’ll be going back to school soon, because I miss you already.

Jack’s been asking about you. Yes, already. I think he was flirting with you. Did you notice? He’s kind of cute, I guess, if you didn’t have to grow up with him. You could do worse. Well. Except that he’s a Mage and I’m sure your family would have a fit about it.

Did you tell them who you’re rooming with next year? I really don’t want to have my throat ripped out before fall semester starts.

I’m going to keep this short because I want you to get something quick after you get home. This world needs something better than letters and carriers that move as a snails pace for communication. Yes, I could call, but if I call your house, I might have to talk to your parents. Which… I have a feeling that wouldn’t go well. You didn’t even tell them the truth about who you were visiting.

I miss you already.

Peace & magic,

Val

Val,

I told them I was going to Burlington, which was not a lie. I brought them back information from the school of Agriculture, so the trip was considered productive. They fully expect me to visit again in the future.

Tell Jack I’m not interested. Thank you.

I miss you, too. It won’t be long before we’re back.

And no, I haven’t told my parents anything other than the truth: I have an apartment with three other girls from school. They won’t be with me when I return in the fall. I’ve spent part of the summer working with my Uncle Danny on a car. We’ve gotten parts from the local junkyards to rebuild the engine. I was going to keep it as a surprise, but well, you asked, and the truth is, I’ll be driving out on my own. My parents don’t like leaving Haverhill and I don’t like having them at school. They think it means I’ll be home more often, or able to drive up to Burlington to meet with the school again.

They’re sort of right, I suppose. I’m sure we’ll think of plenty we can do with a car at our disposal.

That reminds me. I’ve never seen New York City and I was thinking that maybe we could go down for a weekend during the fall. If you want to.

I’ve heard it smells terrible, but I’d like to see it with you.

- Alia

Alia,

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m sticking to you through thick and thin. I will go to the ends of the earth with you, whether that means disappointing Jack (he’s so sad now) or driving into the den of iniquity that is the City. I’m with you.

We should see a play while we’re there. Are your tender senses up for it? I’ll protect you. I’ve heard we can get cheap tickets through some booth in Times Square if we don’t care what we see.

It’ll be our adventure. Clan and Mage together, exploring the world. Wherever you want to go, I’ll be by your side.

Peace & magic,

Val

~20 years ago

Val,

Congratulations on your engagement. I know you will be happy.

- Alia

Alia,

Seriously, that’s all you say? I suppose I should be glad you wrote back. I miss you, you asshole. Why did you stop writing to me?

We should start talking on email. It’s a thing now, if you’ve got a good phone line and a dialup system. Well, and a computer. It’s a lot faster and more reliable than letters. You won’t even have to go to the post office.

I mean it, though. I miss you.

Tell me you’ll be here for the wedding.

Peace & magic,

Val

Val,

I’ll be there for the wedding.

Email, however, is not going to happen here. We do not have a good way to do so.

In the wake of my father’s passing, things have been difficult here. The Council wants someone else to take over, but I’m strong enough to hold my position for now. I’m good for our community, and my mother continues to support me, as does my uncle. The problem is, they’re old. One day they’ll be gone, and I think everyone is waiting for that to happen.

They want me to make a mistake.

They might think traveling to a community of Mages is that mistake.

In case you’re wondering, I don’t agree.

School seems so long ago, doesn’t it? It wasn’t, really. Ten years since we first met, and an entire world has come and gone it feels like.

Tell me about him, Valentine. Tell me he makes your heart sing. Tell me about his magic, and about his courtship. Tell me that he worships the ground you walk on.

Tell me that he is good for you.

I miss you as well.

- Alia

Alia,

Enclosed please find one (1) dress and a pleading, begging entreaty for you to stand by my side when I make my vows. I can’t do this without you.

He’s good, Alia. We started dating a year ago, and it’s gone by quick, but when he asked it felt right. I’m here, he’s here, and I think I want to have kids. I never really thought about that before. It seemed like such a far away idea, but now sometimes when I sit and think, I see a small boy with his eyes and my smile, and it seems like it’s supposed to happen.

I wonder, sometimes, what it would be like to be Predictive and have glimpses into the future. How far do they see? I think about this child, but that’s only a few years down the road. Who knows, in ten or twenty years everything could be completely different all over again.

Like you said, it’s not that long and forever, all at once.

I need you here, Alia. Can you come before the wedding? Can you be with me for this?

I could sneak away. We could go to the City.

Would you come with me?

Peace & magic,

Val

Val,

I am extremely sorry to send this at this late date, but we have an issue here in our Community, and if I leave now, I may never be able to return.

Haverhill is my home, and I must keep it safe from those who would try to change it for the worse.

I am sure you are beautiful as a bride, and I hope you send pictures.

The dress you sent is very nice. It looks strange on me, but you know I don’t dress up like that often. I think you made my mother cry.

She knows who you are. What you are. She still thinks you are good for me, and that gives me hope that my community can be better than we are now. Which is why I have to stay here. I want my home to be a haven for anyone who needs it.

Love him with your whole heart, Valentine. And he’d best love you.

- Alia

~10 years ago

Val,

I need your help. I can’t trust anyone else.

- Alia

Alia,

I promised you once that I would stick to you like glue, so yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Things look dire, but we’ll make it through. I am by your side, no matter what, through thick and thin.

Love, peace, and magic,

Val

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purpleillusn · 5 years

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Returning After the Reveal

Phic Phight attack 3

Prompt: “A post Phantom-Planet (or post reveal, if you hate PP that much) fic in which Danny is getting used to his new fame and recognition as a superhero. His teachers, classmates, and even former bullies are all suddenly treating him differently, and Danny’s not quite sure what to do with that.” - @love-ly-ish

Words: 7143

Danny pushed his crutches down again, supporting his weight as he made his way over to the X-Ray room. He was pretty sure that he could have walked, but doctor’s orders said he couldn’t, hence the crutches.

Whispers erupted as he traversed the labyrinth of corridors. Onlookers either appeared to be in awe, admirers and fans of his Phantom persona, while others scowled, moving out the way, many fearful of the teen in front of them, or rather his powers. He supposed he hadn’t been expecting anything different, the world probably hadn’t been ready for the existence of halfas, but had been introduced to them anyway.

A mother pulled her child away and close to her chest just as he’d tried to go up to Danny, attempting to shield the boy from him. Danny sighed and his mom placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

They entered the room, and Danny lay on the table as per the previous X-Ray, while Maddie joined the radiologist further away. If there was one thing Danny was grateful for in this great big mess of a situation, it was his parents’ unwavering support. Without them kicking up a fuss it would have been entirely possible for the GIW to cart him off to their labs, labelled as an ecto-based threat, while he was unconscious and wounded. Danny suppressed a shudder at that idea.

“Danny, you can come over here now,” called the doctor, a kindly old man who looked somewhat like a walrus.

On the computer screen was Danny’s leg, his tibia and fibula completely intact, just as expected. “Jeez you heal fast, kid. Most people would take months to recover from that,” commented the doctor, clicking into the image to zoom in. “Not even a hairline fracture anymore.”

Danny cringed - he’d had one hell of a compound fracture. On top of that apparently they had to pick fragments of bone out of his leg. Nope, he was not going to imagine that. The surgeons had been slightly freaked out even after he came around post-surgery, his healing factor having caused problems with treating his injuries.

“Does this mean I don’t need crutches now?” Danny asked hopefully, lightly kicking the leg in its brace.

“Yes, you’re free to go. Just don’t go breaking more bones on us,” the doctor chuckled, his belly shaking as he did so.

“No promises,” Danny responded, flashing him a smile before sitting down to phase the cast off his leg. “Uh, so, what do I do with this?” He waved it in the air. This was nice, being able to use his powers around others without having to fear exposure.

Maddie took the cast from him and placed it in the appropriate bin as they left the hospital. “Well, that went well,” she said, trying to maintain an optimistic mood despite the countless pairs of eyes on them, passing their own individual judgement.

Danny muttered something under his breath and Maddie asked him to speak up.

“I’d have preferred for none of this to happen in the first place,” he said barely loud enough for her to hear properly. “I should’ve handled the attack better.”

Maddie sighed. “You can’t be perfect, Danny. I wish you hadn’t got hurt like that, but it’s all we can do to move on from it now. You saved a lot of lives that day, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar.”

“So I’ve heard,” Danny said spitefully, immediately resenting himself for taking that tone with his mom. “Sorry, I just-” He trailed off.

“It’s been a stressful few days, hasn’t it?” she said, unlocking the car and opening the door.

Danny mirrored her in opening the door on the passenger side, slipping into his seat. “Yeah.”

They backed out of the parking lot, the sound of tacky pop music coming from the radio while Danny picked at the fabric of his jeans. “Mom? Do you ever have times when you feel you could have done better?”

“Of course I do. Regrets are part of life, and no matter what you do, there’ll always be that nagging voice in your head,” Maddie said as she turned onto the highway.

“How do you deal with it?” Danny enquired.

Maddie glanced at Danny, then cast her eyes back to the road. “I remind myself that my mistakes are in the past, and I can’t change them. Plus focusing on the positives helps, like people you helped and ways you can do better in the future.”

Danny contemplated her words for a few seconds. “Thanks, mom.”

They were now approaching Amity Park, which did not have its own hospital due to the risk of ghost attacks. Craters, Danny-shaped and otherwise, marred the landscape and they passed a sign reading ‘Amity Park: A nice place to-’ The rest of the sign having been destroyed by ectoblasts, leaving it illegible.

Maddie cleared her throat. “But even I have regrets I can’t forgive myself for.”

“Oh,” Danny said, knowing full well where this conversation was heading. They’d had this conversation once already, in which Danny adamantly defended them, though admittedly he had been pretty drugged up then, so he couldn’t blame her for talking about it again. “I still don’t blame you for anything. I chose to lie to you- I shouldn’t have, and there was no way you could’ve guessed that your living son was a ghost.” He breathed before continuing. “You can’t change the past.”

Maddie conceded and continued the drive without bringing it up again, instead choosing to talk about space and recent developments in astronomy and astrophysics.

They stopped in the driveway of the Fenton house, now with a metal fence to fend off rabid reporters, fans and those who despised Danny and his entire family. They’d probably have to upgrade the security system at some point soon, but for now it would do.

The house was a lot cleaner than the night of the ghost attack, but was still somewhat disheveled, albeit without fragments of glass around the place now. “Good to see you Danny-boy!” Jack engulfed Danny in a one armed hug, his left arm being covered in bandages. “Can’t keep you down, eh?”

Danny chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Speaking of which, Danny, we’ll need to do a check up on your core,” Maddie interjected, catching Danny off guard with how naturally the words came from her mouth. They seemed to be adjusting about as well as one could to the revelation that their son’s half ghost, going so far as to lock up their most powerful weapons and program all of the inventions they could to ignore Danny’s ectosignature, including the ghost gabber, much to Danny’s delight. Sam and Tucker had managed to convince the Fenton parents that separating Danny’s ghost and human halves would be a terrible idea by explaining the Fenton ghost catcher incident, that and it didn’t take a scientist to know that ripping away part of someone’s body wasn’t good for them. If Danny was healthy and happy, that’s all that mattered to them.

The core check-up went similarly to an X-Ray, just in the lab, and with a different machine.

Danny pulled his t-shirt over his head, ignoring the fact that his hair was now even more messy than usual, and walked over to the computer screen displaying the scan.

A look at the display wouldn't mean much to someone without knowledge of ectobiology, but both the Fenton parents and Danny could see that it had thousands of tiny marks of damage, like the tears that form in a muscle after excess exertion.

“It looks like it’s healing. See? Snowfang was right,” said Danny.

Snowfang, the head doctor in the Far Frozen, had assured them that it would heal with time, as long as Danny did not overexert himself again.. Naturally the Fenton parents had still been worried, and coming up with ways to aid healing.

His dad grinned at him, while his mom had an unreadable expression of thought.

“You’ll still have to drink ectoplasm until you’re better,” she ordered, before quickly adding, “but maybe don’t bring it to school tomorrow.”

Crud. School. Danny cringed at the thought of his phan club following him around. “I’m not sure if I want to go back there. I mean, what if people…”

Maddie crouched slightly to be eye to eye with Danny. “It’ll be fine, just give it a try, okay? And if it’s too much for you, or you get bullied, we can always look into home education.”

Danny nodded, eyes downcast.

The ring of the doorbell pierced through the quiet and momentarily drowned out the whir of machines from every angle of the basement.

Jack was the first to reach the door, opening it only to remember that there was also a tall metal fence and gate between the street and the living room. “Jazzypants! Elle!” he bellowed as he opened the gate, letting two girls in. Elle gave him as much of a hug as her short arms could manage, channelling some ghost powers to jump up. Jack patted Danielle’s back and closed the gate. Danny’s face lit up at the sight of his adoptive sister, now dubbed ‘Elle’ both to avoid confusion and due to her sense of individuality, still clinging onto their dad as he came back into the house. The adoption would be going through quickly after they’d ‘convinced’ Vlad that it was best to let them adopt her and for him to leave her alone. It hardly seemed like she’d only lived with them for less than a week, yet that was undeniably the truth.

Elle, grinning broadly, dropped to the floor. “Hey, Danny, you’re all better?”

Danny made a more or less gesture with his hand. “Pretty much.”

Jazz announced her presence by dumping a large bag of books on the floor with a thud. “Well, that’s book shopping done.”

Danny glanced at the bag, stunned. “Did you buy the entire bookstore?”

“Ha, ha,” Jazz deadpanned. “Elle’s starting Middle School in September, that’s only five months away, so she’ll need to catch up on any material she missed out on by then.”

Elle was less excited by the idea of school, and instead pulled out a book titled ‘How much poo does an elephant do?’. “I got to choose some books I wanted too.”

• • •

Sweat poured from Danny’s brow as he tried his best to hold up the beams of a near-collapsed building while the last inhabitants ran for safety. After the last person escaped, guided away by Maddie and Jack Fenton, he intangibly passed through the building, letting it collapse through him, and turned his attention to the gruesome ghost currently being shot at while trying to chase down the Red Huntress. She looked worse for wear, her suit not repairing the scratches in it like it typically did. The fight had been drawn out for too long, and everyone knew it, but the ghost just didn’t seem to have a weak spot, all shots ricocheting off its armored skin. And worst of all it had a fire core, leaving the pavement melted under it with each step it made.

“Oi! Ugly!” Danny shrieked, a lot more shrilly than he than he originally intended. The taunt had the exact effect Danny wanted, all of the dozen or so eyes of the beast turning towards him and narrowing. Its nostrils flared, and it made a beeline for Danny, stomping down anything that stood in its way.

Calling on the power of his own core, Danny sent out a blast of ice, which encased the ghost for mere seconds before melting under the extreme heat of its flaming breath. Danny created an energy shield, doing his best to block the attack, his palms burning as the fire was redirected around him and into the building, exciting the embers floating in the air and on the ground.

The flames stopped abruptly as yet another fighter flew into the fray, blasting the beast in the side. “Leave my cousin alone!” Elle yelled, unleashing another energy ball, which knocked the creature back.

It was then that Danny saw something, a weakness, an opening. The ghost opened its mouth and Danny took this opportunity to shoot a beam on ice into it, giving the ghost the worst possible case of brain freeze experienced by any being. Without hesitation, Danny tackled the ghost to the ground, glancing up at Valerie who was pulling out her thermos.

Unfortunately, Danny really should have kept his attention on the ghost, as it grabbed him by the leg in its vice-like grip and hurled him into the rubble of the building he’d been trying to hold up just a minute earlier. A sickening crunch of bone shattering could be heard as Danny’s body crashed against the hot concrete and brick. He tried to climb to his feet, only to realise that one of his legs was practically snapped in two, and instead hovering weakly. Elle flew over to him like a rocket, putting an arm under his shoulder to support him, seeing his exhaustion.

Danny evaluated the situation, noting that the ghost appeared to be much more sluggish, cracks showing in its skin, revealing what looked to be swirling magma underneath.

“Cover your ears! Now!” he shouted and unleashed an unearthly wail, rippling through the air, peeling through the armor of the ghost with each wave that came its way.

Danny collapsed, ears ringing, desperately fighting back white rings while Elle held him just above the ground.

A blue light engulfed the magma ghost in front of them, and the Red Huntress landed, hoverboard retracting into the soles of her shoes, now-full thermos in her hand. “Phantom? I just wanted to say thank you, both of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Danny offered her a tired smile before falling into the black, a ring of light passing over his head as he dropped like a rock.

Danny awoke with a start, glancing at the time on his alarm clock: 6:45 am. Could be worse. Of course he’d just had to have that dream, that memory again the night before school. The universe was simply unkind to halfas - not even permitting them to sleep until their alarm would have gone off.

He dropped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, figuring that if he was going to face his possible doom today, he might as well be presentable while doing so. The cold shower was nice - just another reminder that he was weird. Jazz always complained that he’d left it on the cold temperature when she went to shower.

Speaking of Jazz, she was already downstairs when Danny entered the kitchen. “Ready to go back to school, little brother?”

“No, not really” Danny sighed as he poured a bowl of cereal for himself, reminding him of the day when he’d almost told his parents his secret early on after being picked up by the ghost detector.

“I’ll be with you when we go there,” Jazz comforted. “Take deep breaths and try to focus on what could go well today.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Thanks.”

The Fenton parents came into the kitchen soon after, one from downstairs, and the other with a very grumpy looking Elle - apparently she was not a morning person. Maddie guided the sleep deprived halfa to the table, and she immediately brightened up at the prospect of breakfast, inhaling a bowl of Cookie Crisp.

“Remember your ectoplasm,” Maddie said to the half ghosts, placing a glass of the glowing green liquid in front of each of them, much to Danny’s chagrin. It wasn’t that it tasted bad, it was just weird, like sweet tasting batteries that prickled his tongue with its energy.

Elle seemed not to have inherited Danny’s dislike of the sensation, and downed her glass like orange juice. This was just one of the many differences between them that she had embraced, along with her love of toast.

Danny sipped his ectoplasm, reminding himself that it was just filtered from the atmosphere of the zone.

“What does it taste like?” Jack asked, like a curious puppy. He knew better than to try and drink some himself - ectoplasm was decidedly not suitable for human consumption. The only reason halfas could drink it was because their biology was different to a human’s on the molecular level.

“Kinda like honey charged with electricity,” Danny answered before taking another gulp of it.

“It’s nice,” Elle chimed in. “Danny’s just not used to it - that’s why he’s scared of drinking it.”

Danny shot her a playful glare and glugged the rest of the glass, which she cackled at.

The energy rippled through his core, like a concentrated energy drink, which wasn’t actually far off the mark as a description of it.

Jack hummed, and began tinkering with an invention he’d been working on on the side for the time Danny had been hospitalised. It was a small plastic wristband, with a glowing green light and small amounts of exposed circuitry where he’d unscrewed a panel on it. It was slightly rough looking, but for something thrown together over just a few days, it was impressive.

The band was a failsafe, in case the school had concerns about him harming other students that could not be remedied by their word - it suppressed Danny’s powers, namely his ectoblasts. It wasn’t great, but if worst came to worst it at least wouldn’t hurt Danny.

Pocketing the band, Jack and the rest of his family, including Elle, who was still worried that Vlad might come for her, clambered into the Fenton family RV (Maddie was driving as it was decided that property damage would not make a good impression).

They reached the school too early for Danny’s liking, and he wiped his clammy palms on his jeans before exiting the vehicle.

Mr Lancer was waiting outside, visibly surprised that nothing had been destroyed while parking until he noticed that Maddie had been driving. He shook the Fenton parents’ hands, and guided the family into the building.

Danny noticed the news van was parked in the road by the school, evidently not allowed onto school property, but figured it was best to ignore it - he’d honestly expected far more people following him around, but apparently he’d passed out of the news with the next big thing.

The early students gawked as the group passed them through the corridors on their way to Mr Lancer’s office, but Danny once again did his best to ignore it.

The office door was agape, and Principal Ishiyama was sat in a small plastic chair next to Mr Lancer’s desk. Mr Lancer closed the door after the group, sitting down in his worn padded chair and indicating to the plastic chairs arranged by the entrance. He surveyed the odd group as they lowered themselves to their chairs, eyes lingering momentarily on Elle, taking in the unfamiliar, yet familiar face.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, there has been protesting against Daniel returning to school,” Mr Lancer began, voice steady and calm, as if talking about any other issue at school, “however, we, as a school, and as people, will not discriminate against an individual based on their, biology. I am glad to see you healthy Daniel, and would like to make it very clear that you are welcome at this school.

“Your teachers, myself included are prepared to give you leeway and accommodate your ghost hunting. We do expect that you work hard to keep up with class work, and attend extra sessions if necessary, but you will not be punished for leaving lessons to deal with ghost attacks. I’m well aware that you are capable of doing well, and all you need to do if ask for help whenever you feel that you’re falling behind.”

Danny was ectatic. This was too good to be true! “Thank you Mr Lancer! I will.”

Ishiyama took this moment to interject. “But, we do have some restrictions we would like you to follow.”

Of course. There was always a catch.

“You are not allowed to abuse your privileges, and if it is found that you have been skipping class without a good reason there will be appropriate punishment. Additionally, you are not allowed to use your abilities to cheat or harm others. We do not take this lightly, and doing this could get you expelled from the school.”

Danny flinched imperceptibly at the mention of cheating.

“We will not stop you from using your powers altogether though. You may use what non-destructive or harmful powers you have as you feel comfortable with, we trust that you can use your judgement as to what is appropriate.”

“That sounds reasonable,” said Danny, relaxing slightly. “I promise I won’t hurt others, and I definitely won’t cheat.”

This seemed to satisfy the Principle, who smiled at the family. “Well then, enjoy your day. I believe lessons will be starting in fifteen minutes. Please ask myself or Mister Lancer if you have any questions.”

And with that Ishiyama pardoned herself from the room, leaving the family with just Mr Lancer, who shuffled a small stack of papers.

“One last thing, Daniel,” Mr Lancer called out to Danny as he went to stand up from his chair. “My door is always open if you need to talk about anything.”

“Thanks Mr Lancer!” Danny smiled up at his teacher, and left the office with the rest of his family.

“That went well,” commented Maddie, and Jack nodded enthusiastically. “We should really go home now. See you later, you two. I know you both find kisses embarrassing, so have a good day.”

“Bye,” both Danny and Jazz chorused.

“Enjoy your day of hell!” Elle shouted after them, a grin splitting her face from ear to ear.

“Same to you!” Danny yelled back as she rounded the corner and out of view.

Jazz and Danny said their goodbyes and went off to their respective lessons early. Waiting outside the science lab, Danny couldn’t help but keep an eye on every face that passed in the mass of students getting to class. His face lit up when he saw Sam and Tucker approach him through the crowd, their faces brightening an equal amount at the sight of their friend healthy and happy.

“Yo, how are you?” Tucker greeted, giving Danny a high five.

“Good. I’m all healed, and the school seems to be okay with me being here,“Danny replied. “What about you?”

“Pretty good. How’re your folks taking the reveal?”

“Great. They’re happy I’m going into ghost hunting, and they seem to have accepted my ghost half. They even adopted Elle!” Danny was practically bursting with joy, and it warmed the others through.

“Oh yeah, we saw her with your parents on the way in. She looks really happy - I guess she’s settling in well,” said Sam, smiling far too brightly for her goth aesthetic.

“Excuse me,” a small voice came from the right, and the trio turned to see Mikey, a small red haired boy, standing there timidly, with his nerdy friends behind him. “I, uh, I wanted to say thank you - for all the times you’ve saved us.”

Danny was dumbfounded. People knowing his not-so-secret identity was going to take some getting used to. “Um, no problem. I just did what anyone would do.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, how do your ghost powers work?” Mikey asked rapidly. “Are you a ghost? Does this mean you’re dead? You’re not dead, right?” He looked slightly horrified.

“Of course he’s not dead!” Sam said abruptly, the guilt of the accident gnawing at the back of her mind. The nerds flinched.

“What Sam said, I’m not dead, or at least I don’t think I am,” Danny spoke. “I’m not entirely sure how my powers work, we think I’m half ghost - um, when I got my powers, I think ectoplasm got bonded to my DNA or something.” Danny didn’t want to go into specifics of how he got his ghost powers. The memory was slightly traumatic, and he really didn’t want to risk others attempting to repeat it - that was dangerous, and painful.

“Woah, that’s so cool! Is it like a comic book origin story?”

“That’s enough.” Sam cut Mikey off, and he shrunk back.

The teacher soon emerged from the classroom to shepard the students to their seats. Mrs Bray, the strict, rule-abiding chemistry teacher, with a glare that could melt concrete, sat in her chair, back straight as the pole that was probably stuck up her butt. She read out the register, each student replying with a ‘yes miss’, until she reached Danny’s name and mutters broke out among the students. Her eye twitched, but she continued the register after Danny confirmed his presence

Once the register was over, she stood before the board, and took a breath before her lecture.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr Fenton has been revealed to be somewhat of a celebrity, however, I would like you to respect his privacy, and there will be no discussion of him or anything of the sort in my classroom. I expect you to focus on your work, and nothing else while you’re here. Am I understood?”

“Yes miss,” came the drone of thirty or so students brought an odd sense of relief to Danny. In her own way, his teacher was showing her support, preventing others from pestering him during class. Unfortunately, she could not stop the glances that were sent his way throughout the lesson. Dash in particular seemed to be staring the most, a guilty expression on his face. Oh, Danny was probably going to have an awkward conversation after class, unless he turned invisible to escape, but that would probably just draw more attention to him.

Valerie, on the other hand, appeared to have a swirl on emotions passing behind her eyes as she occasionally glanced at Danny, as though wanting to talk to him, which she of course did. Okay, so that was going to be two awkward conversations after the lesson.

As the teacher told people to pack up, Danny psyched himself up for what awaited him out of Mrs Bray’s classroom. Valerie was aggressively stuffing her bag, and Danny feared what she’d do once they were out of the classroom. Scenarios passed through his head, each of them involving a way in which Danny’s life, or rather the next few minutes of his life, could go wrong.

The instant they were out the classroom a hand grabbed Danny’s arm and dragged him to the janitor’s closet. Valerie stood there, somehow seeming sad, worried and majorly pissed off, all the while managing not to scream. Sam and Tucker burst in, quickly tailing after the ghost boy. “Hey, Valerie, don’t do anything rash,” Sam implored, “wait, are you crying?”

Pearlescent tears were trailing down from Valerie’s eyes, and she wiped them away with her arm. “Tell anyone I’ve cried and you’re dead!” Valerie snapped.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” placated Sam. “Do you want us to leave so you can talk to Danny?”

Valerie shook her head. “No, stay, please.” She almost pleaded towards the end, the emotional strain from the past week bubbling to the surface.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For hunting you, for blaming you for everything that went wrong in my life,” Valerie cried quietly.

“It’s fine, Val I’m sorry for lying to you for all this time.” She looked up to see Danny putting a hand on her shoulder, ice blue eyes radiating comfort. Valerie shook her head again, a lot more violently than she intended to.

“I didn’t exactly give you much choice, did I?”

Danny just shrugged. The bell telling them lessons were starting chose that moment to go off, and panic quickly spread through the group before they conceded themselves to their fate of being late to English.

“Y’know, now would be a great time for a ghost attack we can blame for us being late to class.” Danny tried to lighten the mood, but quickly regretted it when his ghost sense went off - his face falling as the blue mist swirled into the air in front of him at the same time as Valerie’s ghost detector going off. “Okay, I was kidding, but I should probably take care of this.” He suddenly looked nervous. “Want to team up on this one, Val?”

Valerie looked taken aback. “What? You trust me just like that?”

“Well, yeah. You are my friend - our friend.” Danny corrected himself seeing Sam and Tucker opening their mouths to correct him on that point. “Danny’s right,” Tucker said, leaning against the closet door to listen out for the ghost attack.

Sam continued, “as much as I may have been reluctant to admit it, you have become a friend over this time. And by the way, we’ve known about your ghost hunting since the beginning - at the park. You might want to consider getting something to mask your voice if you want to keep a secret identity.”

Valerie felt a blush flush into the cheeks. “You got it,” she said, checking the radar on her ghost detector as she did so. “It’s by the sports hall. I’m new to this teamwork stuff, what do you three do about ghost attacks?”

“Uh, do you two want to handle this one?” Tucker’s hand clasped the door handle. “We can go tell Mr Lancer why you’re late.”

“I’m guessing you want us to keep your ghost hunting a secret Valerie,” Sam asked rhetorically. “We can just tell Mr Lancer that you’re helping Danny out or something and leave it at that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Valerie said, activating her suit, covering her face last. Tucker gave a low whistle at the show of electronics, and glanced to Danny, who seemed unfazed by her suit. Of course he was, this kid had seen it all before.

Seeing that Valerie was comfortable enough in his presence to activate her suit, Danny went ghost, rings of blinding white travelling across his body. Valerie’s mouth was practically on the floor - this much was evident even with her mask. Danny Phantom floated opposite her, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“Ta-da,” he quipped, and Valerie collected herself enough to notice that Sam and Tucker were snickering at her reaction. They quickly scampered off to Mr Lancer’s lesson, and Danny extended his hand to Valerie.

“Wanna try navigating like a ghost?” he asked, eyes twinkling like stars.

She took his gloved hand, and screamed as she was whisked along through the wall. A feeling like being submerged in icy water sent a shiver down Valerie’s spine. Noticing her reaction, Danny landed on the other side of the wall in an empty classroom. “Sorry, I really should have warned you about that.”

“No, it’s fine - just felt cold,” Valerie tried to quell the expression of guilt that had wormed its way into Danny’s face. It was still weird seeing Phantom as Danny, even if his reveal had been caught on camera and broadcast on live TV. There was something innately wrong about seeing your friend as a ghost, and the odd glow he had to his skin didn’t help make him look like the human Danny Fenton she’d known., illuminating his features oddly and making him appear almost as a completely different person.

“Oh, yeah.” Danny fiddled with the hair on the back of his neck. “I kinda forgot - Sam and Tucker are both used to it, and I don’t normally make others intangible.”

“Really, it’s fine. Let’s go find that ghost before it hurts someone,” Valerie insisted.

Danny nodded with renewed determination, and took her hand again tentatively before turning them intangible again and speeding off towards the gym.”

This was certainly different to flying on a hoverboard, Valerie thought to herself. A hoverboard at least somewhat obeyed gravity - ghost flight, not at all. She could somehow feel the movement while at the same time not feeling anything at all, but it was fun nonetheless.

They arrived at the gym’s storage room in a matter of seconds, and another plume of blue mist emerged from Danny’s mouth, indicating that the ghost was near.

“BEWARE!”

The Box Ghost was levitating a crate full of footballs in the air, features alight with menacing glee. He hurled the contents of the crate at the pair of ghost hunters, not realising that Danny had yet to drop his intangibility. Valerie flinched, Danny grinned, and the balls flew right through them. “Want to do the favors?” Danny indicated to the chubby ghost in front of them, now lifting a box of rackets.

“With pleasure.” Valerie activated a moderately sized gun that materialised in her hand, hitting the Box Ghost square in the butt.

He yowled and spun around just in time to be caught in the beam of the Fenton Thermos. He looked like a fat spider being sucked down the plughole, and the onlookers were torn between pity and entertainment at the sight.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,”Danny stated, landing firmly next to Valerie on the floor of the storage room, avoiding the balls scattered across it. “Should we tidy up the mess?”

Valerie looked surprised, recalling the copious amounts of property damage and mess both of them had created in the past.

Reading her expression, Danny explained. “I’ve been wanting to test out a new power, and this is a small enough scale that it should be fine.”

“You have a tidying-up power?” Valerie asked, eyebrow cocked, not that Danny could see it all that easily with her visor.

Danny chuckled, picking up on the heavy sarcasm laced in her tone, and his aura seemed to spark, every one of the balls in the vicinity gaining a bright green aura of their own and lifting into the air. He concentrated, eyebrows knitting together as the footballs drifted into the crate, all but one landing neatly inside it, which then lifted up as well and placed itself in its usual spot on the floor.

“Woah,” Valerie stood next to him stunned while he panted. “Was that telekinesis?”

Danny’s breathing went back to a more normal pace, still considerably deeper than usual. “Yeah. It’s something that most ghosts can do, but I only learnt it recently. As you can see…” He picked up the remaining football with his hand. “I need more practice, but it could be really useful.”

Valerie hummed. “You could use it to get people out of the way of debris, or stop the debris in midair.”

“That’s exactly why I want to perfect this skill.”

Valerie’s mind flashed back to Danny supporting the collapsing building, and she understood fully how important learning this new power was to him.

The two entered the classroom after a somewhat leisurely flight in the direction of the classroom and a stop in a closet to change out of their suit, and into their human form respectively. Mr Lancer stopped his lecture as the door opened, and every head in the room swiveled round to face the late duo.

“Mr Foley and Miss Manson already explained,” Mr Lancer said. “You can speak to me after class if there’s anything you need to catch up on that you missed in your absence.”

“Thanks Mr Lancer.” Danny kept his head down as he made his way over to his seat, which of course had to be practically in the middle of the classroom. He could feel almost every eye in the room boring into his head as he settled down and brought out his books and pencil case. Chatter erupted amongst the students, and Mr Lancer sighed in defeat, knowing that having a ghost hunting ghost as a classmate had not lost its novelty with all the news coverage.

“How’d it go?” Sam asked, leaning over from her seat, taking advantage of the sudden stop to the lesson.

“Fine, it was just the Box Ghost,” Danny dismissed.

“And Valerie was fine?” she hissed, barely over a whisper.

“Yeah, she seems fine with the whole Phantom thing,” Danny replied in a very slightly louder voice, if only so Sam could hear him (she didn’t have the luxury of super-hearing). “She was kinda shocked by the feeling of intangibility, but it’s not a big deal.”

Sam shivered involuntarily. “I can understand that,” she said, still wary of the ghost hunting girl but willing to put aside her hostility and protectiveness for now.

The lesson continued as per usual after Mr Lancer managed to get control of the class again with a cry of “The Adventures of Huck Finn” and continued with his lecture. They didn’t actually finish all the work from that lesson before lunch, but it was good going considering the circumstances.

Lunch was a whole other challenge for Team Phantom, and the trio chose to bag lunch it outside out of fear of being mobbed.

“Dead Teacher 2 is still the best,” Danny said, leaning against the tree they were sat under, mouth half full.

Sam quickly chastised him for talking with his mouth full, before arguing to the contrary, saying that the 1st movie was the best without a doubt.

“I’m with Danny,” Tucker contributed to the conversation, “the second movie was really where they perfected it. Oh, hey Valerie!”

“Hi,” greeted Valerie, walking towards the group, lunch bag clasped close to her body. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

Sam and Tucker shuffled around to allow her into their circle, and she seated herself on the grass. “So, uh, what’re you guys talking about?”

“Which Dead Teacher movie’s the best,” Sam supplied. “These two think that the second’s the best, even though the first’s obviously better.”

“I haven’t watched the latest ones, but the first one is definitely better than the second.” Valerie opened her bag and fished out a sandwich.

“Betrayal!” Tucker exclaimed, mock fainting with his arm to his forehead.

Sam punched him lightly on his lowered arm, which prompted a cry from the boy. He rubbed his arm and shot her a playful glare, which she returned, complete with a grin.

Valerie observed their antics, somehow feeling like there was more of a sense of unity between her and the trio now that their secrets were out in the open.

“Oh, yeah, Val,” Danny said, sitting up straight. “How’d you like to join Team Phantom?”

“That’s your team name?” She raised an eyebrow and Danny just shrugged. “Sure, but that’ll take some explaining as to why I’m working with you.”

Danny waved off her concerns. “It’ll be fine. We can just say we talked if anyone asks.”

Valerie shook her head mockingly. “How the hell did you keep your secret for as long as you did?”

“We’re pretty sure it was just dumb luck,” interjected Tucker, “emphasis on dumb.”

“What was dumb luck?” an obnoxiously loud voice came from the direction of the school building, and Dash Baxter and his cronies approached them.

The trio tensed, ready for a confrontation, only for Dash to raise his hands in a sign of peace. He suddenly looked a lot smaller, nerves showing through his veneer of toughness.

“I’m sorry, for everything I’ve done to you. If I’d known I was bullying my hero…” Dash’s eyes remained fixed on the ground, inspecting the blades of grass with a pitiful expression, like they’d personally killed his family, which in Amity Park wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’d happened.

“We’re all sorry, dude. We couldn’t’ve known that you were-” one of the cronies was cut off by Danny.

“I forgive you, but you should bully anyone in the first place.” Danny folded his arms, looking at each of them in turn with a forced hard expression. It really looked odd on his baby face, but Dash and co seemed intimidated nonetheless.

They muttered between each other, before turning to face Danny again with guilty expressions. “We’ll try not to,” Dash said, and Danny unfolded his arms.

“Can you leave us alone?” Valerie demanded, not even trying to hide her hostility.

The bully gang exchanged glances before returning to the main building.

“I can’t believe you’d forgive them just like that. You know they only apologised because you’re Phantom, right?” Val scolded, and Danny looked like a wounded puppy at her words.

“I know, but I don’t want to be a douche,” Danny shrunk back from her.

Sam snorted. “What he’s trying to say is that he doesn’t hold grudges, even when he should, and forgives far to easily, like he’d trying to be some sort of paragon.” Danny scowled.

The rest of the day passed largely uneventfully, if you ignored the frequent whispers, nervous faces and admirers coming to apologise to Danny, thank him, or ask how he got superpowers - something that he declined to answer fully, leading to word quickly spreading that people should stop asking about that because it was rude to ask how a ghost died, which wasn’t entirely wrong, just not the whole reason for why it was a touchy subject for Danny.

All in all, it wasn’t half as bad as Danny had been expecting. It was actually somewhat anticlimactic in his opinion.

He sent a brief text, saying that he was going to talk to Mr Lancer because he missed some of the lesson, to his parents and knocked on the classroom door.

Mr Lancer answered the door, smiling at the halfa. “Daniel. Can I help you?”

Danny shuffled his feet. “Uh, I kinda wanted to catch up on the stuff I missed at the start of your lesson. Why did Arthur Conan Doyle have a recap at the start of the chapter?”

His teacher smiled, and invited him into the classroom, where Danny seated himself at the front of the empty classroom. “The Sherlock Holmes stories were initially serialized in magazines, each chapter in a different magazine, before they were compiled into complete books, so he would frequently recap the story for the sake of readers who may have forgotten the events of the previous chapters.”

Danny nodded, and took notes in his workbook.

“Is there anything else you wanted to ask?” Mr Lancer continued as Danny put his book back in his bag.

“No thanks,” Danny said, zipping up his bag. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, Danny,” Mr Lancer replied. “How was your first day back at school?”

“A lot better than I expected. I think I’ll be fine here.”

“That’s certainly good to hear.”

Danny made for the door, only to stop when Lancer called out to him. “And remember, my door’s always open if you need to talk.”

“Thanks Mr Lancer.” Danny radiated a cool warmth from his beaming features. “Bye, see you tomorrow.”

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #danny phantom #my writing #i'm planning to do at least 1 more short fic and 1 really long one before the end of the phight

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bookoftheironfist · 6 years

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Iron Fist Week: Day 4

A Favorite Non-Romantic Relationship: Danny and Luke

Of course, I’ve talked about them a lot on both this and my other blog, but I don’t think I’ve written a post specifically focused on Danny and Luke’s Netflix-verse relationship-- which is a relationship that means a lot to me and is, of course, extremely significant in the comics. I also wanted to be sure to highlight Luke because his show was cancelled too. The loss of both Luke Cage and Iron Fist is heartbreaking, but in some ways, it almost feels right that they would go out together. Ideally, Netflix will now take the same action that Marvel editorial did in the 70s, and rescue the two franchises by combining them into one series. But no matter what happens, I will forever cherish the fact that we got to see this dynamic duo on-screen at all.

There is a long and noble tradition of superhero relationships being forged in conflict. In the comics, Luke and Danny’s first interaction is a knock-down, drag-out, building-wrecking brawl that cements a mutual respect and understanding between them. The Neflix shows’ budget restraints prevented an exact replication of this, but MCU Luke and Danny still meet in the midst of emotional turmoil and misunderstanding. Danny is suffering from all-encompassing trauma and self-loathing following the apparent destruction of K’un-Lun. Luke has just been released from prison, and is processing the pain of being unable to help Candace Miller’s rapidly dwindling family. And both bring out the other’s worst fears. When they meet in back of the Chaste hideout, filled with bodies of the recently-dead, Danny likely assumes Luke is the Hand warrior who did the deed. The difficulty Danny has in subduing him is merely a reminder of his weakness, his perceived failure as the Iron Fist. Luke sees Danny as a privileged aggressor attacking a boy he’s trying to protect-- a symbol of an unjust system that ruined his life and is now threatening his neighborhood.

Both are on edge and in pain, and are unable, initially, to understand each other through that pain. Even after Claire vouches for them and brings them together, Luke in particular is unable to see Danny’s side of the equation. Danny and Luke’s differences have always been a key part of their relationship, and as painful as their initial disagreements are in this universe, they work to cement their surface-level differences in order to lend further power to the similarities they discover later.

But of course, first they need a bonding team-up! This fight is awesome. They’re not friends yet, but neither can deny that they work well together, and they even manage some banter. Having each other’s backs in this way prompts them to trust each other, even if they don’t necessarily like each other yet. And trust is a big deal, especially for Danny, who was betrayed by nearly everyone he met in Iron Fist Season 1. That experience has made him more wary of forging personal connections, but he is still desperately in need of companionship. Thus, he latches onto his new superhero friends-- and Luke in particular.

And then they get another chance to talk. While Luke is still wary, Danny is eager to get to know him better, and the little reflexive grins they throw at each other throughout this conversation are very funny. In the midst of all of the chaos, they start to at least grow comfortable in their disagreements with each other, clearly enjoying themselves in spite of everything. Luke, the more cynical of the pair, insists that their connection will end when the mission does. But there are nice little indications throughout this conversation that this is a beginning rather than an ending.

They continue to grow closer through little hints and gestures. There’s a great moment later in this scene when Alexandra tells Danny to submit to her or she will kill the others. Danny hesitates, not wanting to put his new friends’ lives in jeopardy... and then Luke gives him a little supportive nod, communicating to him that he should reject her anyway. And the writers make a point of having Luke and Danny show noted concern for each other throughout the rest of the show.

And then it all goes to pieces when Luke agrees to tie Danny up. This is a horrible, frankly traumatic experience for Danny, since it digs into all of his recent pain. He is being prevented from doing his job as the Iron Fist, risking failing New York the way he feels he failed K’un-Lun. He is being prevented from having his revenge on the Hand, which is the only way he will be able to achieve closure for what happened to his home. And he has been betrayed, yet again, by people he was foolish enough to trust-- Luke in particular, with whom he thought he was actually becoming friends. He’s alone again, helpless, furious. But Luke makes a small gesture of friendship in this scene that, I feel, is one of the most important moments in their developing relationship.

Luke listens to Danny. He doesn’t at first, and he is unfairly mean to Danny throughout this show-- but it’s not just him. The degree to which everyone is skeptical of Danny’s story makes sense, but after a while it shifts from being funny to cruel. Danny has just lost his home, and to have that home scoffed at endlessly by his supposed allies is painful to watch. It is evident how this affects Danny-- in Iron Fist Season 2 he even starts pre-empting it. There’s a moment when he’s discussing Shou-Lao with Ward, and he immediately follows it up with an offhand “I know, dragons, right?” because he’s so used to being laughed at. He desperately needs to talk about K’un-Lun in The Defenders as a way of processing his grief, and instead he’s met with scorn. And Luke too, in this scene, initially makes fun of him. But-- and this is important-- he then sees that Danny has been hurt, and he changes his behavior. He reaches out. He allows Danny to talk, and sincerely engages in conversation with him. It’s a small gesture, but in the context of the show, hugely significant.

With a shaky foundation having been laid in The Defenders, we then jump ahead to the magical tenth episode of Luke Cage Season 2. This time, Danny is here to help Luke, offering him life advice that has been directly informed by his own journey.

(Iron Fist Season 1, anyone?)

This episode is a pure joy, partly because it does not pick up where The Defenders left off. As much fun as it would have been to see every second of this developing relationship, it’s even more fun to skip over all of the hurdles and dive right into the Power Man and Iron Fist dynamic we all know and love. These guys have been hanging out off-screen, and it shows. They are fully comfortable with each other, hugging and fist-bumping and bantering without any indication of early-relationship awkwardness. They have a special handshake. They comment on each other’s mannerisms. They have pre-rehearsed fight moves.

Finally, they have found mutual strength in their own differing life experiences, their distinctions enhancing their bond and allowing them to help and learn from each other. And of course, they kick epic amounts of butt together. Both are opposed to making money off their superheroing in this universe, so Heroes for Hire feels out of the question, but some kind of permanent team-up seems all but inevitable in this episode.

I’m in grief over the possibility that we may never see them together in this way again, or that it will be a small cameo in another show and nothing more. There are so many cool Power Man and Iron Fist stories waiting to be brought to live action (yes, including Danny taking Luke to K’un-Lun). But again-- I’m tremendously grateful for what we have. A huge thank you to Finn and Mike for being the perfect Danny and Luke and making my geeky dreams come true.

#ironfistweek #MCU #Netflix Defenders #Netflix Luke Cage #Iron Fist #Danny Rand #Luke Cage #*Sob*

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dp-pastandpresent · 5 years

Text

Past and Present: Chapter 26

Sam was in her homecoming dress, staring over the side of the high school roof.

'No, Sam, don't even think about jumping…'

She looked down, the ground below feeling further and further away the longer she stared.

'Tonight was supposed to be a good night, but instead it's the worst. I just need it to end…'

One foot off the ledge, Sam was feeling dizzy. Her heart was beating fast. She couldn't breathe.

"No turning back now."

She looked down again. The ground was right there. She could just take one more step and keep on walking.

Closing her eyes, she began to count out loud.

"One…"

"Two…"

"Three…"

Her second foot left the ledge.

She was falling, closer and closer towards the hard concrete below, her dress blowing around her.

There was no time to scream, no time think. She just kept falling…

-- Sam lurched forward, waking herself up from her nightmares only to find a set of glaring red eyes looking down at her.

'Great, another nightmare.'

She blinked, hoping he'd go away, but he just floated there waiting for her to say something.

"Would you stop staring already?" she said angrily.

He just grinned.

"Seriously dude! Can't you just take me home? I've been here for days, and you don't really need me for anything!"

"That, my dear, is incorrect," he finally said.

Sam raised an eyebrow, questioning once again her captor's motives.

"Which part?"

The grin returned to his face as he let out a small chuckle.

"You have not been here for days. Not really..."

"Well it sure feels like it!"

"That's the temporal time system of my realm, you silly girl. Making you think you've been here for days when in your world it's only been hours."

Sam got up, still adapting to the unsteady ground, and lunged forward, ready to smack the ghost in front of her. But he disappeared and reappeared behind her, causing her to fall forward.

"When will you learn that it's pointless to attack me? "

"When you learn it's pointless to keep me here. Clearly I know nothing about Danny's destiny."

"Incorrect again," he replied slyly, changing forms.

Sam stopped, confusion clear on her face. She had known that there must be a reason they were drawn to each other, she and Danny, but she had always assumed it was because of her Grandmother. She had never really thought of it as much more.

"His humanity," she finally said after a few moments of contemplation.

The ghost looked at her; his young eyes had a playful glow to them.

"I thought I 'wouldn't understand'" she asked, adding sarcasm to her last part.

"Time changes things, child, and in the time you've been here, I've discovered just how smart you are. So, why don't you tell me what you think about his humanity?" Clockwork grinned.

She looked back at her captor distrustfully before finally speaking. "His humanity only started to return when he saved me. When we started hanging out. When we…" She blushed, not wanting to discuss her intimate affairs with a ghost, even though she was sure by now he had watched them happen.

He returned to his adult form and floated closer to her.

"Smart indeed. And now you are beginning to understand. You, my dear, are the key to Danny's destiny. Without you, he cannot possibly fulfill the prophecy he was born for."

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Clockwork rose from his chair, the book falling to the floor. He quickly turned to his screens, which were all currently showing different scenes from a young boy's life, and flipped them all off.

"What is it? Can't you fools tell I'm busy!"

He waved his staff, releasing the protection shield from his door and allowing several ghosts to come floating in.

The three ghosts were each wearing a nice looking robe paired with a vampire-like cape. Their bodies were green, and they had domed heads with a single eye in the middle. Around their necks, a medallion like the ones Clockwork kept on his back wall glistened in the green light.

"You're shirking your duties again Clockwork!" the first one said.

"Ghosts are running rampant, attacking each other and breaking down realms!" said the second.

"You need to restore order before it's too late," the final one added.

Clockwork just rolled his eyes.

"You observants. You don't see anything important. It isn't my job to keep the peace around here, remember? That's what we hired Walker for."

"This is beyond Walker's scope, Clockwork," the first one said. "These ghosts are talking about invading your graveyard. They want to move on…"

Clockwork shook his head, "Lowlifes. It's not that simple! You can't simply find a plot and expect to leave this place!"

"They need your guidance to remind them of that," the second one chimed in. "Remember why you were created in the first place?"

Clockwork froze, trying to remember the last time he had actually helped a ghost move on.

'Has it been that long?' He thought, before adding, "Does it really matter anymore?"

Returning to reality, Clockwork gazed at his visitors. "I have other priorities!" he said loudly, glancing at the book on the ground.

The third observant caught his gaze and floated over to where the book sat. Picking it up, he looked at the open page and read aloud.

"One day there will come a being strong enough to wield the power of both realms…"

"Not that stupid prophecy again!" the first Observant shouted. "When will you learn that it has no importance. It's just a story!"

Clockwork's eyes turned a brilliant red as he glared at his visitor.

"WRONG. This prophecy has bearing on everything! And until I can finally figure out who that being is, I do not need your interruptions!"

Without even waving his staff, he flung the three ghosts backwards through his door. He allowed the shield to lock itself again before picking up the book.

"I'm so close to figuring out how this boy will save us all. I just need a little time."

"I've been studying ghost lore for centuries, trying to find the precise moment when the savior would come along and free us all from the darkness. It took countless hours and days and years to finally discover Daniel, and it's all thanks to you."

He grinned at the girl, who was sitting in a chair in front of his largest screen. He had been debating for days (hours) now how and when to finally tell her the whole story, and this morning's spat had finally convinced him.

'If I want her on my side, I need her to know the role she plays.'

"By now I'm sure you know about the prophecy."

She nodded, and before she could say more, he continued.

"I was certain for eons that I was the one destined to fulfill it, but as hard as I tried, I just could not remove that amulet. And then, one evening, this scene appeared on my screen."

He turned, flipping the channels with his mind to the scene with Danny and Sarah sick in bed.

Sam was taken aback. While she had viewed the photos on the Fentons' computer, she hadn't seen anything quite so personal.

"And that one scene told you….?" She crossed her arms.

"More than you can know, dear." He transformed to his older self and the screen next to the first flipped to a second image.

Sam gasped, unable to believe what she was seeing. There, on the steps of her house, were her and Danny, attempting to eat ice cream. What had shocked her wasn't the scene itself, but their appearance in the scene. While Sam was in her usual goth attire, Danny was fully human: Black hair, t-shirt, blue eyes. Not even a hint that he could be a ghost. And even if she had remembered the scene, the time stamp above told her otherwise: 2019

"How?"

"Exactly what I asked myself when I first discovered these two scenes. How could one human be in two different times, yet look as if nothing has changed?"

Sam was speechless, taking in his comments.

"And then it occurred to me. He had to be a ghost. But not just any ghost; a special one. No other ghost looks and acts like their human selves when they return: there's always some sort of change. Not to mention ghosts don't eat, sleep, or breathe, and they rarely leave the Ghost Zone. In fact, without me they rarely remember their past. "

"One of both realms," Sam said quietly.

"Exactly!" Clockwork almost shouted. "And so, my research began. I started watching scene after scene of Daniel and your grandmother, trying to find the exact moment when he would pass on. And I began researching resurrection, because I knew he wouldn't come back on his own."

"You planned this. The whole thing? Even Danny's death?" Sam asked, suspicion growing.

"What can I say? Fate was out of my control."

Sam jumped up from her seat, once again glaring at Clockwork.

"Out of your control! You've been controlling him since his first life! I'm pretty sure you could have let him say goodbye!"

"Don't test me, girl. Remember, you know NOTHING about how my job." His eyes were bright red again, and this time he found himself taking a mental hold of the girl, sending her back to her seat.

"I'm starting to get a pretty good idea," she muttered as she found herself forced to sit down.

"You should feel lucky I'm telling you these things at all."

"Why are you telling me these things?"

'I'm starting to regret this decision,' he thought.

"Like I told you, as much power as I have over the dead, I can only do so much to help him. But YOU…YOU are a part of his destiny. Without your support. Your friendship. Your… bleh… LOVE, he can't ever fully take on both forms."

Sam was about to interrupt, but stopped when she heard Clockwork mention love. Did she really love Danny? Yes, she had been feeling like they had a connection, and they had kissed and gone on dates multiple times, but could it really be true love? Or just another manipulation?

The mention of 'both forms' also caught her interest.

"Both forms?" she enquired again, raising the other eyebrow.

"Picture this: I, Clockwork, the master of all time, finally figure out resurrection and bring one Daniel Fenton back from the dead, only to find that he is a full ghost, not the human I hoped he'd be."

"So?"

"So, in the scenes I saw of him with you, he's always a human. As much as I looked, I never found a scene with him as a ghost, but yet, when he came back, there he was, full ghost. Something must have blocked my screens from picking up all the things that have happened until they happened. Things were clicking in Sam's mind as she did the math. Was it possible that Clockwork's vision only extended so far? And even more so, was it possible for Danny to fully regain his humanity because of her?

"I realized that he was truly both. Not just a human who had been resurrected, but a ghost with the power to become human. And that power, my dear, is linked to your love."

Sam was holding the book, having just finished reading the prophecy for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"But he already removed that amulet," she said at last, then added, "and it's starting to give him power."

Clockwork smiled.

"Yes, girl, it is. But remember what we discussed? How his humanity begins to return when he's around you, or even when he's thinking of you? It can't just be a coincidence."

She had replayed the scenes in her head over and over again. The flickering glows, the hunger, even the complete transformation. They had all happened when they were together, and their emotions were high.

'Why me?'

"That still doesn't explain why he was able to remove the amulet," she sighed.

"Well of course not. I only showed you the prophecy. I didn't explain the true power behind it all. I'm sure even that fool Dora didn't know the whole story when she let Daniel take it."

Smirking again, he allowed Sam to let go of the book, and it floated up into his hands. He flipped the pages until he came to one a bit further back.

"The Amulet of Aragon is one of two amulets that exists in the realm of dragons . While the amulet belonging to the Prince Aragon is one of darkness, the Amulet of Aragon worn by the princess is that of light. Given to her by her true love, it became bound to her the day he died in the dragon's war. Drowning in depression, the princess took her own life shortly after, leading her kingdom into despare until finally it was eliminated from human existence. Since the day of her appearance in the ghost zoneshe shall be destined to transform whenever her emotions are high. Blah… blah… blah… You get the point." He shut the book loudly and looked back down at the girl.

"How come she didn't tell Danny all this when he took it from her?" Sam asked.

'Seems fishy to me.'

"Given how long it's been bound to her body, I doubt she even remembers its source anymore, my dear. Even ghosts tend to change and forget things with age."

Sam looked dryly back at Clockwork, unconvinced.

"Plus, she was probably so relieved to have it gone, she didn't have time to think. After all, if you had something bound to your body for eons, wouldn't you just be glad to be rid of it?"

'Well…'

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Don't roll your eyes at me,!"

Sam found herself succumbing to Clockwork's powers again as her legs moved against her will to stand up.

Clockwork blinked, and his eyes dimmed back down as the power left her body.

'What am I doing? I've never allowed my powers to control anyone, let alone a human, in this way. I need to focus. Regain control of the mission at hand!'

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he apologized sincerely.

"It's… ugh… fine. Just please tell me what this has to do with my connection to Danny. I get that 'our love can bring him power' but…" she put the last bit in air quotes.

Clockwork floated down to her level, his eyes becoming soft.

'Be nice.'

"It's exactly what I read, Samantha. The amulet he has, it's made of light. It's connected to love. The same love Daniel has for you. It's what fuels its power."

Sam jerked back. She had been here for what seemed like days, and this was the first time Clockwork had called her by name.

'Say something, girl, anything. You can figure this out. You're smart.'

When she didn't respond, he added, "Think. Every time he's begun to turn human, it's been because of you. And every time he's needed his ghost powers, it's also been because of you. Because he needed to SAVE YOU."

He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder as a small tear appeared in one of her eyes.

She shuddered as his cold hand touched her shoulder, but she didn't jump back. Instead she allowed it to rest there for a bit as her teary eyes looked into his.

'Show some compassion. Make her see that you're right. You aren't the bad guy here…'

A wave of warmth flooded through his body down towards his hand, transferring to Sam's body through his touch. Upon feeling the warmth, Sam's tears stopped and she blinked.

"I'm, just so, so tired. And ready to go home." She sighed.

Clockwork removed his hand, but a little warmth remained in Sam as he turned to the screens behind him.

"Unfortunately, by now Daniel is on his way to save you. So sending you home would do no one any good."

Her tears stopped as her expression returned to that of worry.

"Danny? He's on his way?"

"Oh yes, precisely as I had planned, of course."

The warmth that he had shown momentarily vanished as he turned to his largest monitor and let it turn on, revealing what looked like a very scared Danny in a full-on body suit taking aim at another ghost holding up his own ecto-gun.

"Although, I didn't plan on him getting lost and running into an old friend."

Sam watched as Danny blasted the ghost, sending him flying across the realm before the screen went black.

Seeing her expression, Clockwork quickly responded.

"Oh, don't worry child. Skulker is harmless. Danny is fine. In fact, he's more than fine. Didn't you see? He's back to being a full ghost. All thanks to that amulet, and his desire to save you."

'Just as planned. Another test: Passed.'

He noticed a small grin and a look of revelation cross Sam's face as he said these words.

'I'll win her over yet.'

"So, he's in the Zone? And when he gets here? Then what?"

"We'll figure that out if he arrives. He has to pass my time barriers first." Clockwork smirked.

'The hardest test yet.'

"Time barriers? What else aren't you telling me about?"

By now Sam was standing again, and the warmth she had just felt had all but left her body. In its place was more anger.

Clockwork just laughed as he found himself aging up.

"The workings of my realm are a story for another day." He said as he allowed Sam's body to fall back into the chair.

#danny phantom #sam manson #clockwork #dpau #danny phantom fanfiction #phanfiction #fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic

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cactiem · 6 years

Text

Arcana

Chapter Two: You Really are a Manipulative Bitch

Pairing: Jughead Jones x OC (eventually)

Requested: Nope

Summary: With Esther's knowledge about Archie's secret, she uses it for her own gain but by doing this does she put her and Grace in danger? Meanwhile four people get closer. Two that you expect and two you least expect.

GIF Not Mine

Chapter One <- Chapter Two

It was a nice day at Sweetwater River. Picturesque even. Birds were singing, leaves gently swayed in the light breeze. The whole scenery could be mistaken from a 1950s advert for the perfect American town. Esther was chasing her sister through the foliage trying to get her back into the car that she ran out of only minutes earlier. "Grace! Get back in the damn car." She called after her, her voice hushed so no one would hear the commotion.

"No. What we are doing is wrong, Esther." Grace said, her voice also hushed. Esther rolled her eyes at her sisters moral compass. She knew this would be the hardest obstacle.

"We can argue the morality of the situation in the car. Let's go." The two girls stared each other down neither of them budging until Grace finally gave in and reluctantly started heading back to the car. Esther followed behind her to ensure she actually makes it back to the car and not run off again. On the way though something caught the girls attention. Esther slowed down and heard voices coming from the opening nearby. One was a woman's voice, a giggle at times, and the other weirdly sounded familiar to Esther but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She got to the edge of the clearing and moved the branch slightly so she could get a better view, careful not to bring attention upon herself.

What she saw shocked her. The familiar voice belonged to the one and only boy next door Archie Andrews and the woman's voice belonged to music teacher Miss Grundy. Esther got her phone out, a mischievous grin appearing on her face, and snapped some pictures of the happy couple, knowing they will become useful eventually. Although, she did promise,to herself that she wouldn't do that anymore she couldn't help herself. "Esther. Where are you?" Grace called out to her sister prompting Esther to resume what she was doing before she spotted Archie which was walking back towards her car. She climbed into the drivers seat and turned on the ignition. Grace looked at Esther, waiting for her to tell her where she was a minute ago. "Okay, what took you so long? Did you see anything?"

"Nope. Nothing at all." Esther lied. It wasn't a very good lie but it was one that Grace seemed to be satisfied with as she slouched back into her seat and looked out of the window, watching the trees pass by while the two of them continued with the plan.

——————————————————————————————————

After the assembly, students filed out of the gym discussing the upcoming dance that Cheryl happily told everyone wasn't cancelled. Esther was walking with Danny and Frankie as they talked about a plan for the night, where were they going to meet for pre-drinks, that kind of thing. When they got to the crossroads in the corridor, Esther stopped in her track and interrupted her friends. "I need to discuss some grades with a teacher. I'll see you at lunch." She said, hugging them both before walking off to the music rooms. Daniel didn't think much of it but Frankie knew that her best friend was up to something. She knew that Esther's whole 'no scheming' thing wouldn't last that long and she was right.

Esther knocked on the door and walked in before Miss Grundy had a chance to say she could. "Hi, Miss G." Esther greeted with her sickly sweet smile.

"Esther. What can I do for you?" Miss Grundy asked unbeknownst about what was to come.

"I need you to change my grade." She said, handing her music teacher the last grade she got. "My parents are going to be on my case about it and I can't have that."

"I'm sorry but I can't do that. Your work is a B." When she said that Esther's grip tightened. She was hoping it would be easy. Esther got her phone out and pulled up the incriminating photo she had saved on her phone.

"I was hoping I didn't need to do that." She said with fake regret in her voice as she showed Miss Grundy the photo. Her whole facial expression changed into shock.

"Where'd you get this?" She hissed, self conscious of who may be listening. A smirk appeared on Esther's lips. She should've thought of that before she hooked up with one of her students, Esther thought.

"It doesn't matter where I got it. What matters is that I have it. Now, I'm not going to show anyone this and in fact I'll even delete it... if you change my grade into an A."

"You promise this is the only copy." Miss Grundy thought about all of her options, which weren't that many. It was either people finding out about her and Archie or people finding out about her and Archie. The only thing she could do was oblige to Esther's blackmail. The raven haired girl nodded, her smirk widening as she had won. The music teacher changed Esther's grade on the system as the girl deleted the photos.

"Thank you so much, Miss G." Esther smiled her sickly sweet smile again accepting the paper back. She didn't care if Archie found out about her blackmailing his, whatever Miss Grundy was to him. It gave her a rush. A feeling she hasn't felt in a long time.

——————————————————————————————————

It was now lunch time and Grace was sat outside with Betty, Archie, and Kevin. They were listening to one of Archie's songs. This was news to Grace. She didn't know Archie had wrote some songs. It must have happened over the summer when he cancelled on Jughead, she thought. Grace could see how head over heels Betty was for Archie. She was wearing the same look Grace would wear for a certain boy. Too bad she realised his true intentions too late. All she could hope for was that Archie doesn't string her friend along and break her heart. Like what happened to her.

Grace looked up from her lunch when Archie had stopped playing. She saw the new girl, who she was sure Kevin said her name was Veronica, approach their table. "Can I join?" She asked. Betty told her she could and she slid into the seat next to Grace and Kevin. "What are we doing?"

"Listening to one of Archie's songs." The blonde girl told her, giving Archie the same look as before. Heart eyes.

"I thought we were going to pretend to like it but it's actually good." Kevin said with blunt honesty. Grace couldn't help but snicker at what he said. Kevin always reminded her of Esther a little. They were both so honest and kept things real. No wonder they got along so well.

Veronica then went on to talk to Archie about his music, even flirting a little. Grace wasn't there when they first met in the diner but it sounded like what she heard off Kevin was that she was flirting then as well. Betty's smile turned into a slight frown at this interaction which didn't go unnoticed by Grace or Kevin. The raven haired girl wanted to tell her that it'll be fine. That it will get easier. She wasn't certain about Archie's feelings towards Betty. Esther always told her that he didn't feel the same way, maybe it's the hopeless romantic in Grace but she likes to believe that he does feel the same way. That the boy next door will end up with the girl next door.

"How's your first day going?" Grace asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Not to be a complete narcissist but I thought people would be more-"

"Obsessed with you?" Kevin interrupted. "Any other year you would be number one trending for sure. This year though is all about Cheryl trying to win the best supporting psycho Oscar for her role as Riverdale High's bereaved red widow." The saying is true. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. It's like that with the Blossom's. If you are talking about them they would appear out of nowhere. As Kevin was talking, Cheryl was walking across the yard making her way over to the table. Archie's face dropped when he saw the red head. He took this as he cue to leave.

"Hey, I'm going to go. I've got that meeting with Grundy and then football tryouts." He told the group before leaving. Oh how Grace wished she could leave too. She didn't feel like facing Cheryl just yet after her brothers disappearance. Instead she shrank in her seat to make herself feel small under the hope that Cheryl doesn't notice her. It seemed to have worked as she was focused on Veronica and wondering what everyone was talking about. Grace just zoned out the conversation, a technique she taught herself whenever her sister's friends came over and started gossiping about people at school.

"Betty, Grace, you're trying out too." Veronica said. Grace tuned back in when she heard her name mentioned.

"Trying out for what?" She asked, confused.

"The vixens." Cheryl smiled at her as if she suddenly realised Grace was also sat here.

"Yeah, that's not really my thing. It's more of Esther's thing. I prefer to be behind the scenes instead of on the field."

"With Jughead." Kevin said under his breath earning an elbow jab from Grace.

"Anyone is welcome to join." Cheryl said before getting up from her spot. She said her goodbyes telling Veronica to follow her on social media and sashayed off to wherever. Probably to find her minions, Grace thought.

"I'm going to go too. Library." Grace told the group, following Cheryl's lead and also leaving.

——————————————————————————————————

While Grace and her friends talk about Archie's music and cheerleading, Esther's friends talk about more topical issues. Such as Jason's disappearance. They were walking down the corridor to go to Danny's locker to get the book he needs for next lesson. "I'm just saying that they should stop calling it a missing persons case and start calling it a homicide." Frankie said, leaning against the locker once they got there. "Jason is dead. Why would he just disappear? His family is the richest in Riverdale. He's the most popular guy in school and he has a perfect girlfriend. There's no reason to runaway."

"Have you met his parents? They're unbearable." Danny chimed in. "I too would runaway if they were my parents."

"Yeah, not everyone can have perfect parents like you, Frankie." Esther added with a giggle as Frankie playfully glared at her friend.

"Esther, I need to talk to you." Archie interrupted with urgency. The three friends didn't even notice the red headed boy walk over until now. Both Danny and Frankie raised their eyebrows at Esther. The three of them weren't friends with the boy so they were confused why he would want to speak with Esther.

Esther rolled her eyes and got up off of the locker. She turned to her friends to say goodbye before being dragged to an empty classroom by Archie. "What do you want?" The girl asked, her tone full of boredom.

"You blackmailed Miss Grundy." Archie stated.

"That I did."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because, I saw an opportunity and I took it. I needed the higher grade in music." Esther shrugged. "Look, if she didn't want to get blackmailed then maybe she shouldn't screwing around with her student."

"You really are a manipulative bitch." Archie scoffed. His words didn't phase Esther. It's not the first time she's been called a bitch and it won't be the last.

"I know. Are we done here?" When Archie didn't say anything Esther grabbed her bag and started leaving. She got to the door but before she left she turned around and smirked. "Like I told your girlfriend, I deleted the picture. Your secrets safe with me." Then she left, leaving Archie to curse to himself. Three people now knew his secret. The two involved and the one person who you would never want to know as they would hold it over you for the rest of your life. He has a feeling this isn't the last of Esther being in his business.

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Grace hates school dances. She hates them. She hates having to wear an uncomfortable dress and heels. She hates having the pressure of going and dancing with someone. She would rather stay at home and watch Netflix or go to Pop's with Jughead. Tonight though Grace went. Veronica had insisted she should come with her and Betty. So Grace put on a dress, that was at the back of her closet, and went.

It's only been fifteen minutes, but to Grace it felt like an hour, and she already wants to go home. Betty and Archie were dancing together as were Kevin and Veronica leaving Grace by herself by the punch, watching from the sidelines like she always does. She fished her phone out of her clutch and decided to text her beanie clad friend.

Grace: help! I'm so bored right now. At the dance 😫

Jughead: rip you 😂 I'm at Pop's btw if you want to stop by

A smile formed on Grace's lips at Jughead's text. Whenever he texts her she gets all giddy. Grace knows that whatever the time is Jughead would be there for her. "Okay, why are you so happy? Did Jughead text you?" Kevin asked bringing you out of your thoughts. Him and Veronica decided to take a break from dancing and came to get some punch.

"What's going on with you and this Jughead guy?" Veronica wondered. Grace has just noticed how nosey this girl is. Yet another person Esther would get along with, she thought.

"Nothing." She told the girl, shoving her phone back into her clutch.

"Except from the fact that Gracie here has a crush on him." Kevin spilled. He was the only one who knew about Grace's crush on Jughead. Mainly because you could read Grace like a book. Pair that with his persistence and need to know everything he soon found out.

"Shut up." She hissed at her best friend. She didn't need the whole world to know about her school girl crush on Jughead.

"You should tell him. Who knows, Maybe he likes you too."

"I don't know."

Kevin's phone went off signalling a text. When he read it a grin appeared. "I'm going to have to skip out on Cheryl's after party tonight, sorry Ronnie."

"Ugh whatever. Grace, please tell me you're coming." Veronica looked over to Grace who responded with a shake of the head. "It's your loss then, guys. Bye." And then she went off to find Betty and Archie.

Grace turned to her friend with a knowing smile. "Have fun hooking up with whoever tonight."

"And you have fun with Jughead." Kevin returned the knowing smile before going off to find whoever was texting him.

Grace looked at the time and decided that enough time has passed for it to be socially acceptable for her to leave. She went to find her sister, not wanting to walk all the way to Pop's in her dress, for her car keys. It didn’t take long to spot Esther as she was on the dance floor with Reggie. Her back was pressed against his chest, one of his hands was placed on her stomach with the other one her thigh. Esther’s hand was reaching up to his cheek, her fingers tangled in his hair, and the other to where his hand laid on her thigh. Esther was grinding on Reggie as he pressed kisses on her neck. Grace has only been standing there for a couple of minutes and she already felt awkward.

When she realised they weren’t spotting her anytime soon, Grace cleared her throat making Esther snap her eyes open. She gave her sister an annoyed look as she was interrupting her fun. "Can I have your keys? I wanna get out of here and go to Pop's. I’ll pick you up when you’re ready to leave the party." Grace asked looking everywhere but at her sister and Reggie. Esther mumbled a 'whatever' and handed her the keys to her car. She then went back to what she was doing before. Grace didn’t waste her time with leaving the two alone and getting in the car to drive to Pop's.

Jughead has sat in his booth at Pop's for the whole evening. It has been pretty dead in the diner due to the school dance being on. He didn't mind though as it was a perfect atmosphere for him to write his book. When the bell rang, Jughead looked up. Normally, he'd ignore it but as the later it got the more time there was between each ring of the bell so when it rang again he looked up and boy was he glad he did. A girl, more specifically Grace, wearing a navy blue dress stood there and when she spotted Jughead a huge grin danced across her face. In this lighting she looked like an angel to Jughead. "You came." He found himself saying when Grace slid into the booth opposite him.

"I came." She replied.

"You look... stunning in that dress." The words slipped out of Jughead's mouth before he could process that he was saying them aloud instead of internally. This took Grace off guard. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and looked down bashfully to try and hide the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Th-thanks." Grace stuttered out.

"So, you finally realised that I'm better company than the others." Jughead said swiftly changing the subject in hopes that what he had just said would be buried and forgotten.

"Oh, yeah definitely. Between listening to your friends trying to get Betty to admit her feelings to Archie and your sister all over Reggie it gets boring. Pair that with hating dances in the first place and I have no reason to stay. Besides, I'd like my lunch to stay put." Grace said earning a chuckle from Jughead. She reached over and grabbed a fry from Jughead's tray. The action was effortless and natural as if Grace has done it plenty of times before because she has. That was their friendship. Sharing food with each other as they talked about different things from gossip to absolute nonsense. "Ooh, you never guess what. Veronica tried to get me to join the vixens." Grace was trying to hold back her laughter but Jughead wasn't. He started laughing as if he had heard the funniest joke. This prompted Grace to throw a fry at him. "It's not funny."

"I'm sorry it's just, I can't imagine you in a vixen uniform." Jughead said between breaths. "It's not a very you thing."

"I know and that's what I told her." It was true. Being a River Vixen isn't Grace's thing. She was more behind the scenes with her camera in hand. She would occasionally write too but that was more Jughead's forte. "So, what are you currently working on?" Grace asked, nodding to the laptop that was sat on the table in front of Jughead, who seemingly forgot what he was doing when Grace walked in.

"Writing about Jason's disappearance on Fourth of July... Well, trying to anyway. It's a bit hard when there's no information whatsoever." As Jughead spoke passionately about his new project he didn't seem to notice how quiet his friend went. Grace's mind went back to that dreaded week in July wanting nothing more than to forget about it and hope that while Jughead is sleuthing about he doesn't uncover the truth.

——————————————————————————————————

While everyone was safely tucked in their homes, two teenage boys make their way to the shore of Sweetwater River where the towns golden boy, Jason Blossom, disappeared not too long ago. They weren't scared of the dangers lurking out there. No, they were just two boys looking to do something stupid because in their eyes nothing bad ever happens in Riverdale.

Shirts were unbuttoned, kisses were exchanged as they stumbled to the waters edge. It wasn't until they were close that they saw a body dressed in all white. "Oh, my god." Kevin gasped.

"Is that- is that-" Daniel stuttered out. He didn't need to finish those words because he knew who it was. He can recognise that red hair from anywhere.

"Jason. He was shot." Kevin finished off. The two boys realising that maybe the town with pep isn't as good as people made it out to be. That this was just the beginning of what's about to come.

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