So recently, I read a wonderful story by a glorious new authoress and I just—I had to do a spin-off piece of it. Not even kidding. I've been inspired back into semi-old ways, and here's to hoping this darn thing will get finished. Alongside my countless other pieces this author is pushing me to write. Now granted… this may be continued. If a lot of you enjoy this. WHO KNOWS. Alas… please enjoy the spin off piece I created to AnneriaWings' famous tale, Lab Rat.
I don't own Danny Phantom, and I certainly do not own the lovely plot and tale that is Lab Rat by AnneriaWings.
Part I: Revelations
My whole body hurt. Mostly my chest and upper torso, to be precise, but still. After you've been tortured, opened, and knocked unconscious by your own parents on a lab table in your basement… your whole frame would hurt too. It would hurt a lot.
…wait. Let me start back at the beginning.
Around a week or so ago, I was having a normal day of patrolling the city of Amity Park. It's my job to keep the citizens safe from ghosts and other various things that like to haunt the streets, but—you all knew that. I'm also pretty sure you knew that on that same night, my parents finally caught me. As a ghost. They decided to dissect me, see what made my ghost side tick. Everything like that. And they kind of succeeded.
Jazz says my chest was open, blood everywhere. She screamed at them to back away from my body, from my human form. I don't even know what happened in those moments, though. I was unconscious the time after that, and the next thing I knew—I was on the sofa in the living room. Bandaged, in pain and my mind screaming at me that my parents probably hated me. They couldn't accept me as a ghost.
I knew they wouldn't. Even though my dad tried to persuade me they would "fix" me. Most likely, "fixing" me involves more scalpels, more torture; things I can't just deal with on a mental level. I was already unstable enough as it was after the entire ordeal, and his words didn't make me feel any happier inside. The simple fact was, I kind of didn't feel safe around them at all.
Like, at all.
I jumped out of my daze and glanced over at the source of the voice. My mom stood there with this worried look all over her face, rubbing her arm and standing in the doorway. I just looked back at her with a pained expression and stood up, almost immediately collapsing backwards onto the sofa. She walked over, trying to approach me, but I stood up once more and shook my head. "I'm fine."
Mom folded her arms and shook her head. "Danny, please. It's time for you to change your—"
"I need to get out of the house," I interrupted her finally, giving her a pointed glare. "I don't want to be cooped up here anymore. I need fresh air. I don't need my bandages changed. They can wait another hour or so."
Before she could say anything else or advance on me any more, I was walking towards the door and opening it to go outside. Before I could take another step, though, she was suddenly at that very door and giving me a look of her own. "You're going to go find Sam and Tucker, aren't you? You're going to tell them what happened."
"The thought crossed my mind, yeah. You have a problem with that?"
She didn't answer. My voice was so frigid, so low now that she thought a ghost probably possessed me. But it hadn't—the fact that she was now trying to intrude on my personal life and my own sanity was enough to make me want to scream at her about all my pain. But I didn't. She didn't say a word to me either. And she didn't have to as I walked out the door slowly and began to long trek to Sam's house.
Her pained gaze was more than enough to tell me that my words hurt her.
I know I sure as hell don't remember calling her and telling her I was coming over and needed to see her. But that didn't matter as I continued to trudge down the street painfully, hand over my stomach and resting my hand gently on my chest. I could have flown there. I knew I could have. But I was terrified to know what condition my ghost side was in after everything happened. And there was no way I was going to morph in the street and potentially lose my human half to the scars and pain.
My phone rang, and I could see Sam's house just on the corner. All the same, I picked up. "Hey Sam."
"Danny. Tucker's over here already, and I called him after I called you. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I lied through my teeth, gripping the handrail to another house and sighing heavily. "I'll be over there in like… two more minutes, okay?"
I hung up before she could ask any more questions. Explaining things over the phone was worse than doing it in real life.
Quietly, my feet shuffled slowly to her doorstep, and I knocked on it three times. The door opened, and Sam gave me one look before she pulled me inside and slammed the door behind her. Arms wrapped around me tightly, and I cried out in pain, shaking profusely. She let go almost immediately, startled as I nearly fell over once again—this time, almost on top of her. "Dammit," I muttered.
"W-What happened to you?"
I stumbled down into the basement, dragging Sam along and almost tripping right into my other best friend at the bottom of the stairs. He managed to grab me and hold me up by the shoulders, staring at me as well and pushing me back up slightly. Both of them couldn't contain their shock; I only knew this because they were staring at me with these horrified looks on their features. Tucker's voice trembled finally. "D-Dude? What happened? Seriously."
Sam pulled up a chair, and I sat finally—but not without a wince. "A lot."
"We haven't heard from you all week until today, Danny! And…"
"They got me."
I don't think I have ever seen the color drain from someone's face so fast in my existence. Sam could have looked like I had died, and Tucker—well, hell if I knew what was going on in his mind at the moment. What I did know was that they both understood what I was talking about pretty much instantly. My voice shook a little bit as I glanced down at my bandaged chest… well my shirt, but it made no difference. "I didn't think it would ever happen, and it did. My parents caught me as Phantom and tried to dissect me."
No response. Sam sat down slowly, swallowing harshly and shaking her head just so. I knew she was in shock from hearing this. Pained. Angry? "…did they—?"
I nodded. She choked up, glancing at Tucker and searching for anything to say about the matter. He didn't move. All my best friend in the world could do was stare straight ahead at my chest and ask me with only a look to take off my shirt and show the damage that had been done on me. I didn't want to, but I knew he would insist on seeing what had happened. It wasn't out of curiosity. It was out of true fear to wonder what they had done to me.
Without another word, I lifted up my shirt and winced again. It hurt so much to move my upper body now—to a point of where I just wanted…
Sam screamed a moment later, Tucker turning away from the sight. The bandages were bloodied, leaking a bit through the wrap and, now that I saw it, my shirt. It was a horrifying mess to behold, and I grimaced myself.
She choked. "Oh my god…"
I couldn't say anything else. I just sat there, looking down at the floor and chuckling bitterly to myself. "I don't know what to do. My parents say they'll fix me up and make me better again. But I know them." I could feel Sam and Tucker just staring at me with their pained and sympathetic expressions. "They want me dead to study me and my remains. I just—I feel it, y'know?"
Tucker bit his lip, offering no comfort. He was clearly at a loss for words.
Sam spoke up timidly. "W-What will you do?"
"Live a lie. Like I've always done. It won't be any different, will it?" I was surprised at how bitter I sounded. "Change the bandages. Maybe go back to school. I honestly don't have a clue. There's a lot I could do right about now, and well—" I looked lost, shaking my head and leaning back slowly into the chair. "Hell if I know. If I try anything stupid, my parents will probably destroy me in a heartbeat."
They didn't dispute this fact. Actually, they almost looked in agreement at it.
There was a lot that could have happened after last week. After my real brush with death. I didn't want to think about any of it, though. So painful to relive and remember. All I wanted now was sleep and hide from them. Hide with Sam in her basement or hide in the Ghost Zone away from everyone.
Despite talking to them, I still didn't feel better. They didn't understand. I know they wanted to, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell them about my mom holding the scalpel and cutting open my innards.
"Jack, help me hold him down!"
I blearily opened my eyes again to brightness and the sound of voices muttering a string of disjointed words. They spoke from far away, the sounds muffled, as if spoken underwater. Everything was so unfocused and bright; it swam in a sea of confusion and calm. It was almost… peaceful.
"…still trying to move… you gave him is working, though… hold him down?"
It hurt knowing what they had done to me. I had to tell someone else. Someone.
I could only think of one person.
'He's gonna love hearing about this… loads…' I thought cynically.
Geeeeee, wonder what this means. –sarcasm-
ANYWAYS. Hope you enjoyed this, because GOD I loved writing it. Now I will go get more EasyMac because I'm still hungry… and watch Silent Hill 2 things. God, what a scary game… catch y'all later!