Sam and Tucker sat next to the cot their friend was laying in for a total of two days, never leaving his side. Not once within those days did he wake.
The children each held one of the Halfa’s cold hands in theirs. Even when Technus had brought them food. They refused to leave him alone again, not after last time when he was taken right under their noses. No ghost tried to stop them either, after Tucker gripped Danny’s arm and honest to god growled at Skulker while Sam screamed at them, throwing whatever she could reach at the ghost, they all figured it easier to leave them as they were and work around them when caring for the half ghost.
So for two days, they sat there together, talking to the small, unconscious form of their best friend.
And finally, finally, he woke up.
When he woke up it wasn’t like a movie scene. He didn’t wake up and smile at them. He didn’t slowly open his eyes and look around. He didn’t even groan.
His eyes snapped open unnaturally fast and he sat up just as quickly. The boy jerked his hand away from the other two, holding them together and clutched against his chest as if they burned him. He took one look at the unfamiliar environment, eyes ghosting over Sam and Tucker, before he disappeared into thin air.
He deemed this weird place dangerous because Dick and Bruce were not there.
They were missing, which means that the people who took him were strangers and therefore they were unpredictable.
Bruce and Dick were gone. They were probably dead. And he was alone. Alone in a strange place. The invisible boy covered his mouth and nose with his hand to silence the whimpers and the sound of his harsh breathing. He clenched his eyes shut tightly, not wanting to look at anything in the weird dangerous room.
He hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed, only hovering slightly to avoid a compression mark on the soft material, and used his invisibility to hide from view. He wanted to leave. He wanted to run as fast as he could and get away from these strangers and look for Dick and Bruce, because no matter what he will find them.
‘Or you’ll find their corpses.’ The voice in the back of his head whispered. He shook his head roughly, a few drops of water leaking from the corners of his eyes as he tried to banish the thought.
He knew he was panicking and he knew these thoughts were completely irrational. And he knew he would berate himself endlessly when he was alone for being so idiotic and allowing himself to panic in front of these strangers. But in that moment of pure unfamiliarity, he couldn’t do anything else but panic. Luckily for him, he can hide from them until he calmed down enough to actually use his brain.
But that didn't happen right then. No, at that moment he was desperately keeping silent as a few tears slipped down his face from his closed eyes.
Danny just wanted to go home. Not to Dick and Bruce, not to the Fentons, but all the way back. Back to the circus, he wanted to be Daniel Grayson again. He wanted his brother back.
Pariah Dark was a patient ghost when it came to the downfall of his enemies. Or pests that could stop his rein upon the Infinite Realms. He had waited nearly nine years to rid himself of the irritating boy who was capable of killing him and stripping him of his power, he had waited nine years for the boy to come into the Ghost Zone, to his range of power. And now it finally happened. The tyrant could feel the unique power roaming around. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact coordinates like he normally could for the more powerful ghosts, but he could tell that he had entered this dimension.
The only question now was how he should proceed.
He had no doubt that those rebels had him locked up somewhere for protection, and while he assumed that he could easily obliterate the pathetic group of ghosts, he didn’t know what resources they had and who they had on their side. It would be foolish to rush into battle without knowing of all the variables.
Pariah Dark started to gather a few ghosts who he thought would be able to go undercover to discreetly take the whelp, without much bloodshed. As much as he wished he could teach them a lesson, bloodshed would ultimately be worse in the long run.
The ghosts he had gathered were mainly shape-shifting ghosts. All of them were fairly young, seeing as the most experienced shape-shifters were on the enemy side. He swore one of these days he would kill all those traitorous nuisances. One. By. One.
Getting off track, the King turned his attention back to the ghosts he called here. He smiled.
“One of you will be going on a small undercover mission into the rebel base. Your job will be to study and learn the behavior traits of a specimen and shift into this organism. You will have to act exactly like it for the time period you are undercover.” He started walking back and forth in front of the ghosts who were stoic, backs straight, paying close attention to every word he says. “If you mess up, even once you will undoubtedly be captured and eliminated. Whether it's me or the rebels that does that is indeterminable at this point in time. Just know that if you fail, eradication is a guarantee.” He growled the threat at the recruits, stepping back so that he could see them all at once. The ghosts gulped.
“Do I make myself clear?” All of them nodded quickly.
“Good. Let’s get started.”
He motioned with one large hand to the guard at the door, who in turn nodded and opened the door.
Not long after the heavy doors were opened, another two guards dragged a limp figure into the room.
The figure was no older than a fifteen year old human girl. She was wearing a black shirt and blue jeans, along with black shoes. Her overall appearance was disheveled and dirt-covered, and she had a few bruises, but other than that she wasn’t injured or malnourished in the slightest. She was dazed and not fully alert to her surroundings, looking around with clouded teal eyes.
“Recruits, meet Jasmine Fenton.”