Chapter Text
As another gust of wind sweeps the area, everyone shivers.
It is one of the windiest days Amity Park had seen in quite a while. Combined with the early winter weather that they are having, it’s biting. Likely no one would be out at all if they had a choice. Many people are huddled into themselves, hiding their hands in their jacket pockets and shrugging until their collars cover their ears.
Danny does the same, though not for the same reason.
He’s standing in the back, away from the crowd. It’s mostly people he doesn’t recognize, although he spots a few familiar faces. Dash Baxter, looking solemn. Paulina Sanchez, her eyes red-rimmed and makeup uncharacteristically messy. A few Guys in White agents are there, probably just because of the ghost-involvement, as stoic as ever.
These people have dared to brave the cold, just as Danny has—even though “braving” it probably isn’t really the right term for him, considering he hardly even feels it—in memory of one person.
Another blast of chilled air strikes the group, ruffling the black clothing that everyone is wearing. It tears the words from the man up at the podium. It’s probably better for him, really; he’s choking down sobs between words.
Danny’s glad too. This way, he doesn’t have to hear the words that he does not want to hear.
A loving sister… caring friend… beloved daughter… a tragic accident…
His grip on his arms tightens.
It was a tragic accident, as everyone was saying. The town was surprisingly understanding, and the media didn’t even try to pin the blame on anyone other than the true murderer. It should probably be a relief for Danny.
“Star didn’t deserve to have her life cut so short by such a despicable monster.” The wind dies down just long enough for the man to finish his speech with a wavering voice. “But now… now she stands as a reminder for us all. It’s so easy to forget how mortal our loved ones really are. Keep them close. And… always remember the danger that ghosts really pose to this town. They took my daughter.” The man buries his face in his hands. “My beautiful girl…”
The man steps away from the podium. Danny watches as members of the crowd step forward, wrapping an arm around him in comfort as he retreats into the throng of mourners.
Silently, invisible even without using his powers, Danny slips away.
xXx
At first, the nightly patrol with Sam and Tucker goes more or less as usual. Things are, admittedly, kind of quiet. A lot of the ghosts seem to be aware that with the previous week’s tragedy, ghost hunters are on high alert. The public is demanding more protection from spectral entities now that ghosts have truly proven how dangerous they can be. Guys in White operatives are flooding the town. Honestly, it’s all Danny can do to stay away from them himself.
Despite that, some of his regulars still appear. Danny and his friends deal with some smaller ghosts, ectopi or other ghost animals that don’t really have the intelligence to stay away. And of course he encounters the Box Ghost.
At one point, however, Danny’s ghost sense leads him and his friends to the park. At first it seems surprisingly populated for the hour. But then they get closer… and they realize something strange.
No one is moving.
It’s an eerie scene: children and adults, women and men alike, all collapsed in various positions around the park. Two kids, no older than eight, are draped over the swings on the playground. One is slouched forward and the other has her head on the ground, back still on the swing, leaving her at an awkward angle. A little boy nearby is slumped on the stairs leading up to the slide. Two adults lean on each other at the nearby bench, eyes closed. Other people are strewn much the same way all over—laying on the grass, by the bathrooms, near the gate at the entrance…
One woman in particular catches Danny’s eye. She’s on the sidewalk close to them, dressed in jogger’s clothes, but she’s laying face down on the ground.
Danny freezes. His breath quickens. He can’t move; blood and ectoplasm are roaring in his ears, and he sways, feeling like he might collapse too, just like all the other people nearby. That woman, the way she’s completely limp, still and unmoving, mouth open, looks way too much like…
“They’re still breathing,” Sam murmurs, and he only barely catches it over the cacophony of his own thoughts. He blinks and realizes that yes, Sam’s right. The telltale movement of the woman’s chest proves that she’s breathing. She’s not dead. He feels an overwhelming surge of relief that he pushes down angrily, because sure, she’s not dead, but there’s still clearly something wrong.
“What are they doing? Sleeping?” Tucker scoffs.
Sam trudges over to the nearest person, a man holding a leash attached to a small terrier dog that is also curled up on the ground, head resting peacefully on its paws. She pokes him in the side, but he does not react. She then grabs his shoulder and shakes him roughly. Still no response.
“They are not merely sleeping,” says a deep, smooth voice behind them. “They are dreaming.”
All three of them spin around. Danny has an ecto-blast glowing in his hand, and Sam and Tucker have withdrawn and aimed their ecto-guns with skill that suggests substantial experience.
It’s Nocturn. The ghost floats at the park entrance, looking serene. Danny hasn’t seen him since their last incident, where he forced the whole town into an unending sleep. Danny scowls. Nocturn had been difficult to defeat, and he somehow doubts the ghost has conveniently gotten any weaker.
“Let them go, Nocturn,” Danny says confidently.
“Why?” the starlit ghost counters, gesturing toward the people in the park. “They are not hurt and completely free from the normal worries of their life.”
“Yeah, but you’re feeding off of them! You only grow more powerful when they’re asleep.”
“Is that not what all ghosts do?” Nocturn asks. “Surely you do much of the same, ghost child.”
Danny is surprised by that accusation. He opens his mouth to respond… but he’s at a loss for words. Sam steps in. “Danny would never do something like this!” Sam declares hotly.
“But a ghost cannot exist without an obsession. Even a half-ghost.”
“Danny helps people,” Sam growls. “Even if he has an obsession, it’s obviously a good one!”
Danny squirms. It’s not something he likes to think about. Ghosts have obsessions. That was a huge part of his parents’ research, and it had been confirmed hundreds of times by his enemies. But… he didn’t think he had an obsession. His friends had tried to discuss it before, but he always got extremely uncomfortable whenever the topic was brought up, so they usually dropped it.
He’s human. He isn’t like other ghosts. He doesn’t have an obsession.
Nocturn tilts his head, considering. “My obsession, in its purest form, does not harm anyone. It brings them escape from the real world with pleasant fantasies. I believe I’m helping them.”
Danny shakes his head. This conversation is going nowhere. “Being put into an endless sleep doesn’t help anyone,” he says. “Now let them go, or else.”
Nocturn chooses else.
He disappears in a swirl of stars, fading into the night like he’s a part of it. Tucker immediately pulls out the Fenton Finder. “To your 2 o’clock, Danny,” he calls.
Danny wastes no time in tossing an ecto-blast at the place Tucker specifies. Sure enough, it hits its invisible mark, and Nocturn grunts as the energy sears through his shoulder. Danny shoots a thankful smile to his friend.
The ghost turns its red gaze upon them and barely avoids another blast, this time sent by Sam’s wrist ray. Danny tries to rush forward and freeze him, but the ghost manages to dodge again, fading in and out of visibility like a twinkling star and leaving patches of ice all over the grass.
Nocturn reaches Tucker. He extends his long, cloak-like arms, and with a bout of apparent intangibility, his hand goes straight through Tucker’s head. Tucker collapses.
Something in Danny snaps.
With a wordless battle cry, he dives at Nocturn, hitting him dead-on with an ecto-blast. Nocturn is flung surprisingly far, crashing into the gate on the other side of the park. His body almost hits a sleeping old lady, but Danny hardly notices. His core is thrumming, burning with loose power as he approaches his downed foe.
As Nocturn collects himself, he looks up and stares at Danny, who is glowering, eyes burning with fury.
The ghost merely smiles.
“Ah,” he says. “So that’s what it is.”
And suddenly he’s gone.
Danny’s thrown off by his departure; unused energy that he’d subconsciously been gathering around his body fizzles out and dies with no target. He blinks, feeling the emotion that had been building up draining from him oddly. He feels… empty, almost. Unfulfilled. He finds himself glancing around, hoping that Nocturn is nearby so that he can finish the fight. He desperately wants to.
Instead, he notices the park’s occupants stirring, making noises of confusion or grunts of discomfort as they apparently come to. His eyes land on Tucker, and he instantly forgets about Nocturn.
“Tucker!” he cries, heading to his friend’s side where Sam is already kneeling, helping the boy sit up as he groans. “Tucker, are you okay?”
Tucker’s eyes flutter open, and he breathes in deeply. “Y-Yeah… what hit me?”
“Nocturn got you,” Sam says before Danny can. “But I think he just put you to sleep. Seems like he let you go though, along with everyone else in the park. No idea why.”
Tucker frowns, finally getting up on his own and struggling to his feet. He gazes around the park as well, noting everyone else is in much the same condition as he is. “He just… left? For no reason?”
“Well, Danny hit him pretty hard,” Sam says, smiling at the halfa. “Maybe he was scared?”
“He didn’t look scared,” Danny mumbles. Despite the threat being gone, there’s a part of him that is still urging him to go and hunt down Nocturn, a part that hasn’t quite calmed down from the adrenaline rush of the fight. He pushes it away. “I just hope he’s not planning something worse.”
They hear shouts, and the trio turn to look at the children on the playground, who have spotted Phantom. The adults notice them pointing and jumping in delight and are now staring at Danny in open shock.
“We should probably head out now,” Sam says softly. “Before any crazy fans try to ask for an autograph or something. Besides, we need to check the town to make sure Nocturn is actually gone.”
“Right,” Danny agrees. He grabs his friends and quickly turns them invisible, ignoring their shivers of discomfort. They always complain that invisibility makes them painfully cold.
The three of them head off to continue their patrol of the town, unaware of the silent figure watching their retreat.