Chapter Text
It was supposed to be another terribly boring and predictable day in the life of Vlad Masters. Call after call after call, business this and business that. The hours of his workday flew by par for the course. When he picked up the phone for the umpteenth time that day, little did he expect to have his world shattered.
All business screeched to a halt. His usual poise gone, he scrambled out the magnificent doors of his office, haphazardly clasping his briefcase. A limo was called, suitcases were packed, and Vlad whisked himself away on his private plane in an uncharacteristically nervous frenzy.
The flight could not have felt longer. The reality of it was far but settled in his mind. It could not possibly be true.
They drove straight from the airport to the hospital. Vlad’s hands tapped incessantly on the ledge of the car window. His legs bounced and his lips drew deep in a thin line. He stared out into the passing traffic, his eyes glazed over in a strange combination of distress and agitation.
The car hadn’t even come to a full stop before the door swung open and his heels hit the ground. Hospital visitors openly gawked as Affluence Magazine’s Billionaire of the Year briskly entered the front lobby, and a buzz of chatter erupted among the hustle and bustle of patrons and workers.
The receptionist's jaw dropped when he approached the information desk.
Uncaring of his reception, Vlad stated, “Visitor for Daniel Fenton.”
He was swept from the lobby and into the hospital's foreboding halls with an entourage of staff kissing his feet. Passing doctors and nurses shared quick glances and hushed whispers at the sight of the esteemed man who owned the hospital. Cold dread pooled at the pit of Vlad’s gut as he passed ill patients being carted off. His imagination began to run wild. Hypothetical gruesome images of Daniel picked away at the composure he was struggling to maintain.
“Here we are, Mr. Masters,” announced the man who had been chatting off Vlad’s distracted ear. Forgoing his usual business flair and manners, Vlad darted into the room without so much as a goodbye.
Daniel was propped up under thick blankets and hooked to a mess of medical contraptions. His frail, unconscious body dwarfed by the massive hospital bed and an excess of bandages. Vlad stood at the foot of Daniel’s bed, utterly frozen. Never before had he seen the child so battered and bruised.
Something inside him snapped. He stumbled back, the room spinning around him. The full force of everything slammed against his consciousness. Shakily, he guided himself to a chair.
The Fentons had been blown to bits. Daniel was the sole survivor.
A strange mix of emotions bubbled up as he thought about the sudden deaths behind twenty years of resentment and malicious planning. Of course, he was devastated at Maddie’s passing, but somehow he felt the same towards Jack. For so long he had vehemently fantasized about exacting revenge for the mistake that ruined his life. He should be feeling victorious, not empty.
Daniel stirred, tearing Vlad out of his shocked trance. The wire of his IV clanked gently against his bed railing. Vlad stared at Danny with trepidation, waiting for his eyelids to open. After a few minutes passed, he resigned his hope of Danny waking up.
Vlad already regarded Daniel with more pity than he let it be known. A victim of Jack’s bumbling. A boy who struggled alone with ghost powers, living in fear of his own parents. And now, an orphaned child.
A sliver of gratitude flickered through his troubled mind. Vlad didn’t know what he would have done if Daniel hadn’t survived.
The Fentons were his whole world outside of his life as a business tycoon—more than Vlad had realized until now.
Four days later, Daniel had yet to wake up. Vlad busied himself with settling the affairs that followed the deaths of the Fentons, though he grew increasingly anxious with each passing day.
He had moved Daniel to a private presidential suite and slept on the couch to keep a close eye on his treatment. Occasionally he’d overshadow nurses and doctors that stumbled upon the questionable results of their human-ghost hybrid bodies. He pored over test results and watched as the hospital staff administered care, secretly adjusting their methods as needed. Vlad understood everything about Daniel’s physiology from his cloning attempts; as bitter as he felt about it, he was relieved the information proved useful now.
Vlad was also incredibly sleep-deprived from juggling his emergency absence from work, the Fentons’ legal matters, and Daniel’s hospital care. He tapped away at his laptop, shooting emails to the secretary who had taken on the brunt of his responsibilities. Although he had taken plenty of vacations before, this one was ill-timed because they were in the middle of a hectic merger.
He sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face under his hands in an attempt to massage away his growing headache. Eventually, he resolved himself to stand up and stretch, deciding it was time for a coffee break.
While he filled his mug with caffeine, a movement flitted in his peripheral vision. He spun around.
Daniel was awake. His eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but open. All of Vlad’s business concerns flew out the window. He stood frozen, mug in hand, his own eyes wide as saucers.
Daniel’s eyes fell toward Vlad’s. They both stared at each other. Minutes passed, then his gaze roamed around the room. Somewhere along the line, realization seemed to strike him.
“Vlad?” he whispered, his voice graveled with disuse.
Vlad pulled a chair to Daniel’s bedside, a barrage of questions filling his thoughts. “How do you feel, Daniel?”
Daniel blinked blearily at him. “Not great.” With notable effort, he tucked his chin and peered at his body—at least what was visible from under his blanket. “...What happened?” he asked in a strained voice.
“Burns, injuries to your internal organs, and a concussion,” Vlad answered.
“Oh.”
“You’ll be okay, the fact you are awake is a good sign.”
A weak cough escaped Daniel’s throat.
“I’ll get you some water,” Vlad said.
By the time Vlad returned, he brought not only a cup of ice, but also a nurse who began to assess Daniel.
“Any nausea?” she asked. “Blurry vision?”
“…Yeah,” Daniel answered, clearly struggling to follow the pen. “I also have a splitting headache.”
“Standard. Considering the size of the concussion you came in with, you’re healing fast.” Daniel’s eyes flitted nervously to Vlad’s. “You are very lucky, young man.”
The nurse changed out the bag on his IV drip before taking her leave, promising to return with a change of bandages and medications to alleviate Daniel’s discomfort.
“They haven’t discovered anything strange about you,” Vlad assured Daniel once the door shut. “I’ve been making sure of that.”
Daniel glared at the IV in his arm. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Partially.” Vlad leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands together. “Do you remember what happened?”
Daniel pulled his eyes from the IV. “...No.”
A war waged in Vlad’s head. Daniel had just woken up. Should he tell him what happened? Or should he allow the boy to have a couple days of blissful ignorance?
Daniel’s brow raised in curiosity. “Vlad, what’s going on?”
There was still innocence in those tired eyes, a naivety that Vlad loved to scorn. But despite his biting insults, it was never his desire to emotionally devastate the child. However, Daniel would inevitably find out. And, although Vlad was quite talented at it, he couldn’t lie forever. At some point, Daniel would ask where his parents were, and then it would be too cruel to maintain the facade.
Vlad’s head fell forward, his indecision bringing him to an undesirable realization.
“You were caught in an explosion...” Vlad started tentatively.
Daniel nodded, his stare unrelenting.
“You are in a delicate state. I don’t know how else to put this. I wish there was an easier way to tell you…
“Vlad. Tell me. What happened?”
“Daniel.” Vlad pinned him with a fixed look. His clasped hands gripped each other tightly. “In that explosion, your family passed away.”
Beats from the heart monitor drummed against them, mixing with the din of buzzing machinery. The dull blues of Daniel’s irises grew as shock lanced through his sunken features. Vlad’s heart pounded into his sternum while Daniel’s eyes swallowed his own.
“No. You’re lying to me,” Daniel whispered.
Vlad stared straight into him, resignation apparent in his voice. “I am not lying to you.
Piercing fluorescent lights highlighted every shadow of emotion throughout Daniel’s shaken body. Shock melted into doubt, and his thin knuckles whitened.
“This is another one of your insane schemes, isn’t it?” He accused.
Vlad shook his head. “I’ve been far too preoccupied with work lately to engage in any kind of scheming, I can assure you.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he searched Vlad. “It’s too much of a coincidence. You’ve been gunning for me and my family for years. I wake up in a hospital with no memory, and you conveniently swoop in and tell me my entire family is dead?”
Frustration bristled through Vlad. He did not watch over Daniel for four excruciating days just to have the child accuse him of plotting. Breaking the news was already difficult without Daniel’s denial.
He stood up, snatched a newspaper lying next to his suitcase, and shoved it in Daniel’s lap.
“Read the front page, then flip to the obituaries.”
Large bold letters spelled out Nasty Accident for Fentons and Friends . Blood drained from Daniel’s face as he skimmed the column. Fingers fumbling, he flipped to the obituaries and searched.
Vlad’s irritation dissolved as he watched Daniel’s eyes dart back and forth through fine print, his resolve weakening with each loss.
“...No.”
The newspaper rustled in his unsteady hands. His frail form crushed under oversized hospital–issued garments.
The sight punctured through Vlad. Somber, he placed a consoling hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Daniel… I….”
The rhythmic beeps of Daniel’s heart monitor began to spike, each quickening line rattling against Vlad.
“You need to take it easy,” Vlad instructed. “You just woke up.”
“Take it easy? Vlad, my… everybody’s gone!” exclaimed Daniel, sheet white.
Vlad tenderly removed the paper from Daniel’s grip. He busied himself with folding it, taking more care than necessary. Biting the inside of his cheek, he searched himself for some way to calm the boy down. Daniel was already in a precarious state and he did not wish to worsen the circumstances.
“I know we’ve had our differences, but…”
He trailed off, struggling to find words of consolation worthy of the magnitude of this tragedy. Daniel was quivering, trapped between the railings of his bed. His wide eyes glazed over from the impact of having his world annihilated.
Maybe Vlad should have waited a couple of days. There was no way to soften a blow this devastating. It was too much, too soon.
Daniel’s glistening eyes screwed shut and he took in one steadying breath. His shoulders hiked, then he shot Vlad a devastating glare.
“…You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”
“What?! No!”
Daniel blinked away tears, his lip trembling with anger and grief. “You finally killed my… my dad, didn’t you? And then you decided to kill my mom and my sister because you’re a bloodthirsty maniac! And I—I conveniently don’t remember it so you can cover your tracks!”
Vlad frowned. “You are well aware of my feelings for your mother. I would never think to lay a hand on her. And I don’t have a reason to hurt Jasmine. Even your father’s passing was not my doing. Nor were any of the other casualties.”
“I don’t believe you. You did something. I know it. I want proof.” He raised a shaking finger towards Vlad. “If everybody is dead, and it isn’t your doing, I want proof!
Vlad’s expression steeled, his gaze cold enough to make anyone other than Daniel shrivel away. “Tell me. Why would I go through the trouble of killing your family and friends, including your mother? You’re making no sense. I may be a lot of things, but I am not a monster.”
“So everybody that I cherish in my life conveniently died in the same freak explosion? You’ve done nothing but terrorize me since we met. What else am I supposed to think?” Daniel spat. He struggled up in his bed. “Your schemes always put other people in your crossfire because you don’t care how your actions affect everyone else!”
“Calm down. Your injuries—“
“Who cares about my injuries? My family is dead! My friends are dead!”
In one brash movement, Daniel ripped away his sheets and stumbled off his bed. His knees buckled and he exhaled in agony.
Vlad reached for him, only to have his hands shoved away. “Daniel,” Vlad said, exasperated, as Daniel cowered in pain. “You are in no condition to leave your bed.”
Taking advantage of Daniel’s pained stupor, he helped him up. As Vlad guided him back onto the mattress, Daniel pushed him away again.
“Even if—” Daniel gripped his side where bright red bloomed through his bandages. “Even if you had nothing to do with the explosion, do you really think you can just waltz in? You’re here because you want me as your sick little apprentice. That’s why you’re playing nice! You can’t even leave me alone for two seconds before trying to make a move on me!”
Vlad scoffed indignantly. “Is it so hard to believe that I’m simply here because I care?”
“YES! You always have ulterior motives. You can’t think about anyone other than yourself!”
“You think you’re the only one in grief? Jack and Maddie, who were my closest friends from college, died. Regardless of my complicated feelings, I am still just as stricken!”
Daniel’s jaw dropped, his face incredulous and unbelieving. “Oh yeah, because it’s not like you’ve tried to kill my dad multiple times!”
“Daniel, I… look.” Vlad pulled a frustrated hand through his hair, struggling for words that would de-escalate the situation. How was he supposed to prove he wasn’t at fault? That he had no idea what led up to the explosion?
At a loss, Vlad stuttered out, “I didn’t do anything!”
“Liar! Stop playing your stupid games! This has Plasmius written all over it!”
“For the last time, it wasn’t me! I have no idea what happened!”
There was something akin to murder in Daniel’s eyes. Not quite, but close. Very close.
“YOU'RE LYING!”
“I swear. I didn’t do anything!”
Daniel screamed, all vestiges of restraint snapped and he pounced at Vlad in blind fury. Daniel’s IV pole clattered to the ground and the wire to his inflatable cuff popped out of the heart monitor. Before Vlad could react, Daniel slammed a fist into his jaw. “TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!”
Vlad’s head snapped back. He staggered, falling to the ground. Daniel pummeled him with incredible strength, landing several successful hits. Somehow, amidst the chaos, Vlad was able to latch onto Daniel’s wrists and restrain him from doing any more damage. Daniel thrashed around in his grip while warm blood trickled down the side of Vlad’s face. His cheek stung and his head throbbed.
“Let go!” Daniel snarled.
Panic thrummed through Vlad. This was getting dangerous. They couldn’t break into a ghost fight in a hospital. “Calm down!”
A sharp gasp stole Vlad’s attention. In the doorway, the nurse from earlier stood behind her computer cart watching Vlad struggle to keep Daniel’s fists away from him. The heart monitor blared in the background.
Cold dread washed through Vlad when he locked eyes with hers. To her, this was likely an incriminating sight.
She tore her gaze from him and darted out of the room, leaving Vlad to struggle with the vengeful child. Clearly, she was running to get help.
Daniel's intangible wrists slipped out from Vlad’s grasp, snapping his attention back from the doorway. Vlad’s panic heightened as the beginnings of bright rings glimmered from Daniel’s torso. He jammed his hand into Daniel’s side and willed forth electricity to distract him.
“Stop.” Vlad hissed. “There are people around, you’ll jeopardize both of us!”
Vlad stumbled to his feet and gripped Daniel’s arms, yanking them behind his back. Daniel writhed in his grip, twisting and trying to shrug himself away. Before Vlad could attempt to pacify the situation, the roar of a running crowd pulled his attention back to the open doorway. An audience of hospital security, flanked by multiple nurses, shuffled into the room.
Daniel rammed his heel down into one of Vlad’s oxfords, his bare foot unsuccessful in administering pain. Then he threw his weight forward. Vlad was nearly pitched off balance. To counteract the movement, Vlad pulled him back, tightening his clutch on Daniel’s arms. Daniel willed them intangible, stumbling forward into security.
Two brawny officers stepped in. One grabbed Daniel’s shoulders and pulled him away from Vlad while the other gripped his arms. Daniel jerked them around as they struggled to wrestle him into submission. His movements were growing weak and sloppy. Fatigue was catching up to him.
He discreetly phased through them and scuffled away, lunging towards Vlad. One of the officers jumped after him, slamming him to the ground. The wire to his IV, which was still miraculously attached, clashed around, the movement pulling the fallen pole closer towards him. Several nurses picked it up and began to replace the sodium chloride solution with an unidentifiable liquid.
“Let GO!” Daniel grunted. “Let. Me. Go!”
Small bubbles traveled down the tube towards Daniel while he tugged and jolted under security’s expert restraint. Daniel’s hands, which had been growing in transparency for another intangibility attempt, returned back to full opacity. His physical efforts loosened as the intravenous sedation took effect. Each jerk grew weaker than the last.
Within moments, he was out.
Stunned by what just transpired, Vlad watched as they moved Daniel back to the hospital bed. His heart pounded through his ears. Blood dripped from his face down to his tousled white button-up.
One nurse pulled away from the group. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Vlad answered, “I explained his family had passed away and he lost it. Perhaps the news overwhelmed him.”
The nurse's eyes bore into him. She seemed to accept his response because she nodded.
“You’ll have to get that patched up,” she said, gesturing to her left temple. Tentatively, Vlad raised his hand to his face. Crimson beads trickled down his fingertips.
“Confusion is expected for someone who is concussed,” she explained while the other nurses hooked Daniel back up to all the machines. She let out a low whistle. “For such a little thing, that kid sure packs a punch.”
Vlad huffed, batting dirt off his slacks with his clean hand. “You have no idea.”
The effects of Danny’s sedation wore off some time in the middle of the night, leaving him as wide awake as the hospital’s night shift. He stared at the ceiling, lost in the turbulence of his bereavement. Confusion wove around his anguish. Everybody’s dead. And why was Vlad really here?
As his thoughts spiraled further, memories of the explosion returned to him. Image after image flashed in his head. They snowballed, replaying in an unyielding sick movie. His heart pounded out of his chest as, over and over again, the twisted and vivid visions beat against his distressed mind. A cold sweat flashed across his panicked body. The demented laugh of that sick creature echoed in Danny’s head, his daunting form rising from blue flames.
“You’re out of time.”
A sharp beep erupted from the analog clock next to Danny’s bed. An unnatural message flashed across the screen.
The thermos is safe. The rest is up to you.
Danny couldn’t take it anymore.
Ignoring his pains, he crawled out of bed and, with great difficulty, wobbled over to Vlad’s sleeping silhouette on the couch. One of Vlad’s arms was draped off toward the floor. Danny’s cold fingers wrapped around it and shook him.
Vlad inhaled sharply. Now awake, he dragged a hand over and down his face, slightly pulling the bottoms of his eyelids. “Daniel?”
Danny opened his mouth but nothing came out.
“What are you doing? It’s…” Vlad raised his head and squinted at the nearest clock. “... a quarter till three.”
“Can’t sleep.”
Vlad’s head fell back onto the couch, his tangled hair spilling out from the armrest he was using as a pillow. He sighed and closed his eyes in exhaustion. “Can’t it wait until morning?”
Danny shook his head. “No.”
Vlad’s brow turned up in worry. “What’s wrong?” When Danny didn’t answer, he sat up. “Daniel. What’s going on?”
“Vlad…” Danny forced out. “My family. I remember. They’re not…They’re… They’re all…” He gulped, his mouth as dry as the fear in his voice. “It’s my fault.”
Never, in his entire life, had Vlad witnessed Daniel fall apart the way he did that night.