Chapter Text
Danny groaned from impact. Sharp pebbles in concrete slashed his arms, contributing to the pain in his arms along with the bruises and gashes from the fight before. Together, these injuries throbbed hotly against his nerves. Their echoes repeatedly revived the pain, letting up for a moment before striking over and over again—a torturous rhythm.
Danny wouldn’t rest, despite this vivid pain. The possibility of danger was still there, still near; however, his surroundings were currently colorful mush. Every structure was wobbly. Unable to make up their minds about where they wanted to stay. The burning neon rays that bled through didn’t help, either.
A sharp honk stabbed his eardrums, making languor eject from his body along with an ectoblast that, thankfully, flew above the angry semi.
When Danny picked himself up, grogginess grabbed at his limbs, causing him to stumble. Many people were around him. They gathered too close, too much like those hawks around roadkill. Their voices fluctuated, overtaking his ears with their ping-pong nonsense. He tried to grasp onto what they were saying, to make sense of what was happening, but all voices would dwindle like sand specks in an open hand.
The crowd shifted. From this, Danny couldn’t help but stupidly think that, finally, he would be left alone. This was proven wrong when a group of police circled him. Their cluster of navy uniforms stood out prominently against other diverse colors. Well, at least they weren’t ghost hunters, but why were they even here?
One of the many police officers, along with two people in weirdly, colorful outfits—almost like clowns—decided it was a good idea to approach Danny. Maybe the two additions were some type of new backup? Not that their presences would matter in the end. The lead officer’s mouth was moving now. The words, though, were unheard underneath the white noise that infested his ears. Seriously, could he not get a break? After his long battle against Stulker and barely managing his escape, all he wanted was to go to bed, fall back to sleep, and ignore the fact that he would have skipped school again.
So, in a weak, raspy voice, Danny said, "Go ‘way."
The yammer of the officer and crowd dissolved into silence. This gave Danny peace—for a few seconds. Then the crowd began to converse afterwards, and they were louder. Just his luck.
When the officer talked once more, there was something off that coated their tone. Besides that, not much had changed about the officer’s behavior toward Danny surprisingly. Most would scream or shoot or commit a mixture of both against him by now. But this officer still talked like they were in a speed talk competition. To be honest, he might’ve found someone more talkative than Tucker geeking about his tech, which wasn’t not a good thing.
"Go away!" he shouted again.
This seemed to make the officer give up on talking to him, instead, he talked to the colorful pair. Danny couldn’t help but groan. Are they serious right now? Really, they came to bother him and seriously thought he would—what?—tolerate their crap, when they never gave him a sliver of their time. This was just hypocritical of them at this point.
In this unguarded second, he fled. Or he would have, had it not been delayed by a brown blur grabbing onto his leg and keeping him tethered to the earth below. There was slight discomfort as the limb pricked his leg, most likely creating another tear in his hazmat suit and more future rage in Sam. Wait, Danny blinked a few times, was the "brown blur" actually a branch? Since when did the police have a plant-based ghost with them?! Last time he checked, they would never work with a ghost, not with his parents’ and the Guys in White’s influence, unless...
They’re not actual police officers, the thought caused him to twist his upper body where the branch was coming from. "What did I do… to break one of your stupid rules, Walker?"
His hands clenched into rubber-covered palms when sudden silence enveloped the area. He peered at the Walker’s goons in disguise.
"What? Not goin’ to attack me for exposin’ you again? Guess you’ve become too chicken," he then phased through the branch and shot a ball made of ectoplasm, which made contact with one of the bright-colored figures, causing the person to instantly fall to the ground. In that time span, he turned intangible and flew into the air.
Even though he wanted to, he didn’t look back. He couldn’t with the risk of it slowing him down. Walter would not go after living civilians unless a ghost who violated one of his rules was intertwined with them. Plus, Danny knew this was a battle he wouldn’t win right now. It was better to meet up with Sam and Tucker.
The alleyway was less dirty than he had expected. There wasn’t even a stray sock or torn trash bags raccoons got into! Just a clear floor with two trash bins that didn’t have rust which was appreciated. He didn’t want to test whether his ghost system was immune to human diseases or not yet.
His feet dragged across the murky concrete—sluggish and slow. The rest of his body was in no better condition. With adrenaline leaving him behind, his injuries from the fight before flared, irritated from his recent actions.
It wasn’t uncommon for him to experience these kinds of injuries; however, it was uncommon to experience them for so long. And he had a sneaking suspicion it was because of this new lacking that nestled in him. It wasn’t the normal claws scratching the insides of his stomach when he was hungry, either. Rather than that, a numb emptiness was in between where his ribs split. A thing that was threatening to take over his head with static, forcing him to still if dwelled on.
This never happened in Amity. Wherever he was now, though, the ectoplasm was thin. Barren to the point it made Danny feel like a newborn. He grunted and went down with another nausea wave. Finally far enough from potential eyes, he crawled to be against the chilly concrete. It wasn’t a great place to rest, but he was too bone-tired to care about quality right now. Soon enough, the cold seeped away, he snuggled deeper into the wall. Everything around slipped through his fingers. He had let himself bow to his drowsy body.
A voice of a man spoke.
Danny's eyes popped open. He scrambled away from the voice, but he didn’t get far before a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Whoa, there!" the man who held him in place said. "Sorry, I did not mean to frighten you."
Why the heck does this old geezer sound so young? Never mind that, why is this dude even talking to me? He rubbed his eyes, before he focused on the annoyance. “Well, you did.”
“I just wanted to ask if you needed assistance.”
Okay, you’re seriously treading in some serious Vlad-territory right now, Danny glared at the man dead in the eyes, irritation running hot through his veins, as he tore the offending hand off his shoulder. "I don’t.”
"Surely, the least I could do then is escort you home? It is getting late, and there are bound to be some people with ill intentions out here.”
"I can handle myself.”
“It wouldn’t be right to leave a child alone, especially in your current condition.”
His jaw ticked. Why couldn’t this dude just leave him alone? ”I’ll jus’… get medical supplies or somethin’,” he took a breath. “Nothin’ to worry about.”
"Are you sure?"
"Very," Danny's eyes searched the man’s face. Was it just him or did the man’s face look off? "Can you let me go now? I have to go home."
The air changed when Danny let his request pass his lips. Pressure applied itself onto him and became similar to a knife’s tip dancing on his chest—dangerously sharp and ready to plunge. It was suffocating. A factor that shouldn’t be possible in his ghost form.
Danny turned transparent for a second and then shot an ecto-blast at the man, the threat, to get away. It was probably not healthy to use his powers when he was so low on ectoplasm. But despite head-Jazz's complaints, it was the only way to escape.
The man trapped Danny in his grasp again. With his arms held behind his back, Danny’s movements became frantic. He thrashed and screamed at the man, even attempted to use his powers, any of his powers, he wasn’t picky, once again. Something overwhelmed his defenses. The way he slowed was unnaturally quick. His focus grew faint, nearly gone.
The man leaned against Danny. His mouth came way too close to Danny's ear, then he whispered, "Not this time, Yoichi."
Fuzz crawled deep into his limbs, and Danny couldn't help but let tears squeeze out. He heaved air. This shouldn’t be happening. He didn’t want to be taken, to be hurt. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to be on an examination table to be dissected like the struggling frogs in his science class. He didn’t want to keep fighting for normality, for acceptance from Mom and Dad, for respect from his hometown.
This isn’t fair.
"Shhh, it's alright. I'll take good care of you."
That was the last thing Danny heard, before he, with his kindle of hope, plunged into darkness.