Reflecting Upon Memories | By : strwlf Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom > Slash - Male/Male Views: 8913 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Reflecting upon Memories * * * * * * * * * * *
By Wolf O’Donnell
Author’s Note: Okay, so here is my first attempt at a Danny Phantom Slash fic for a competition at the Danny Phantom Slash Group. I’m not very good at sex scenes, so there won’t be much of that in this story. But there will be goings on between two guys of the same age and of course, Danny will be acting like a psychotic, so if you don’t like that… Well, tough.
Legal Blurb: Wolf O’Donnell is copyrighted to Nintendo Ltd. Danny Phantom and all related characters are copyrighted to Butch Hartman. All other characters are my ideas. Upon reading this story or this legal blurb, you hereby agree that I cannot be sued for anything whatsoever. This fanfic is merely meant for entertainment purposes and is in no way meant to profit off of the Danny Phantom series, and does in no way represent the Official Stance of Butch Hartman.
Pairing: Danny Fenton and… Well, wouldn’t you like to know?
* * * * * *
“I’ve been having these dreams for some time now. Strange dreams. They’ve… They’ve been in my mind, growing in there… I don’t know what else to say. It’s just… Well, I’ve never had dreams like these before. They’re always the same and always so real. It’s almost… almost as if they’re a memory.
“The dream would always start off with me sitting up on a bed in the middle of some room. The walls would be covered in red stage curtains, or maybe the walls were the red curtains. I don’t know which. It never matters anyway. All that matters is the mirror standing in the middle of the room on the black and white linoleum floor.
“It just stands there, you see, with no frame and nothing to keep it up, just standing there on its knife-blade edge.
“I’d get up and walk over to it. There’d be no reflection in it. In all the times I’ve had this dream, there’d never be a reflection in it. So, I’d walk around it, trying to find my reflection in it. I’d walk around it and around it, but I’d never see my own reflection there… Well… That’s not true…
“It would appear sooner or later, or rather… Well, the reflection isn’t mine. It’s someone else’s, but someone that looks nearly like me. I’d see him in the mirror, in black, with snow white hair and glowing green eyes. He’d… my reflection, I think he’s my reflection, would be smiling at me from the mirrored surface and then would he mouth out some words. I don’t know what they are. I could never hear them and I was never any good at lip-reading.
“Well, he’d just say the words and then the mirror would shatter and he’d lunge straight at me.”
Danny sighed, as he finished writing his diary entry and put the pen down. He had never kept a diary before, but ever since last night when he had the dream again, the dream seemed more final than the others. It was, as if… Danny didn’t know why he had started this diary and wrote those words on its blank pages. It was almost as if he was leaving some final message to his family and friends.
He picked his pen back up. “Actually, I think I know what he says now,” wrote Danny on the pages. “I want to taste out of your mouth. That’s what he says… He wants me. I can tell that he wants me.”
The dreams had started ever since the accident in his parents’ laboratory that had left him unconscious for quite some time. Ever since then he’d have these dreams about walking through walls, but these would all end with the same dream of him in the red room with the mirror standing freely in the middle of it.
“Something happened on that day,” wrote Danny. “Something strange happened and I think… I think that white-haired kid is… is inside of me. I think he’s inside of me and wants to be me.” He dropped his pen and let it roll off the pages on to the desk and off on to the floor.
Danny shivered once again. “Sit on a potato pan, Otis,” he said to himself and then grabbed the diary and flung it with all his might at the wall. He flung his head down on his arms and then began crying, afraid of what had happened to him and what would happen to him.
And unbidden, a memory entered his mind…
* * * * *
“How’s it going with that light?” asked Mr. Lancer, as he looked up at the janitor.
It was buzzing and seemed to keep shorting and it had been doing so for a week now. The very flickering had been a nuisance and it seemed that nothing the janitor did could stop it from shorting. “Sorry, still no luck,” was the janitor’s reply, as he shook his grizzled head.
Danny hadn’t paid much attention to the flickering light in the corridor near his locker. In fact, he hadn’t paid much attention to anything since the accident in his parents’ laboratory, one single week ago. It was as if he had become a hollowed out shell of his former self, as if the crackle of energy had burnt out his soul and killed his heart.
“Hey, Danny,” greeted Tucker, as he walked up to his raven-haired friend. “Wassup?”
There was no reply from young Daniel Fenton. It was almost as if he had not heard, or didn’t have the strength or the patience to reply. Perhaps he hadn’t heard. It was difficult to tell. Not even Danny knew whether he heard someone or not and if so, who it could have been, so preoccupied was his mind on everything and nothing, the conscious and the subconscious, the light and the dark shadowy recesses of his mind, one concept after another and all at once and not all.
“Danny?” exclaimed Tucker. “You okay, man? Danny?”
The locker door slammed shut. “I’m fine, Tuck’,” Danny replied sternly. “I’m just fine.” Yet he didn’t sound sincere, not even sincere enough to convince himself that he was fine. He shook his head. “I guess… I guess I’m just not that awake today.” He turned his gaze away from his best friend and began walking away from Tucker.
“Hey, Danny!” called out Tucker. “Where you going? Class is this way.”
Danny stopped in his tracks and stood there with his back to his friend for a while, before he turned his head round. “I’ll see you in class, Tuck’,” he told Tucker.
“Where you going?” asked Tucker.
“Nowhere fast,” replied Danny emotionlessly, “and you can’t come.” He turned his head and then made his way down the corridor, stopping dead before he could reach the trophy class.
There was something about mirrors as of late that made him just want to avoid them. Danny didn’t know why, either. He just didn’t want to look into them, as if he was afraid to see what he would find in his own reflection. “Lights start changing,” murmured Danny without any provocation, “and there’s wires in the air.” He then shook his head, as if it could clear out the strange thoughts that were starting to crowd his mind in great vaporous mists.
One quick and deep breath later, Danny walked quickly past the trophy case and its mirrored back that reflected the trophies and all those that passed by. He dashed past all those shiny surfaces, surfaces on which he would cast numerous reflections on. There was no need to stop and look at them, to see all those eyes, all of them his, staring back at him, staring through him and into his soul. No, he didn’t need that. He didn’t want that.
Seconds later, Danny quickly dashed into the boy’s room, as if running for cover and he stopped in his tracks. He saw the mirrors lined up over the sinks and realised his own folly. Danny faltered. All those mirrors, reflecting his image, showing him his own image… He didn’t want that. No, he didn’t want to look in the mirror, not at himself, not at what he had become. And what had he become and how was he any different from the fourteen year-old he was before the accident?
That question remained unsolved, as Danny stood to the side of the end most sink and turned on the tap, deliberately standing out of the way of the mirror so as to not see his own reflection. He cupped his hands underneath the tap, catching as much of the water in his hands as possible as if it was gold or a precious elixir of life.
Danny bent over and with one movement of his arms, he splashed the clear pure water on to his face. It felt cold and almost refreshing. Yet something about that running water made him feel quite uneasy. He looked at it, the water running from the tap, droplets of water dripping from his face, down his cheeks, off the end of his nose and from what strands of hair that had got in the way. Danny stared at the running water, almost as if in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe that the water was falling down into the sink.
Rapidly, his hand shot out and he turned the tap off, cutting the flow of water off as quickly as possible.
“Hello?” exclaimed Danny suddenly, as he looked around him. “Is someone there?” he asked, as he made his way through the empty boy’s room. He could have sworn he heard someone call out to him, call out his name, and it almost sounded as if it was coming from the other side of a thick window. “Hello?” he called out, as he walked past the mirrors without realising it.
Suddenly, Danny turned round and his reflection glared back at him from the mirror.
Danny screamed.
* * * * *
That memory… Why did it come back to haunt him?
Danny turned to glare at the diary, open and face down on his bedroom floor. He turned to stare blankly at the wall of his bedroom, almost as if he expected a face to peer out from him and climb out of the wall as if climbing out of a hole.
It had been almost two weeks now since the accident in his parents’ laboratory. His parents had created a new invention of theirs, a Ghost Portal, so they could see into a world of ghosts. He had been there, watching, as they plugged their machine in to finally test it. Yet nothing had happened.
To say that they were disappointed was an underestimate. They were so disappointed, Danny decided to help out. Donning a safety suit, he had entered the machine to look around and see what was wrong. He had looked around in the darkness, without a torch, and that had inevitably been his downfall, for there were quite a few cables on the floor and he had already nearly tripped over one.
Just reaching out to steady himself had caused the entire thing. The on/off buttons had been inside the portal and when Danny reached to steady himself against the wall, he had pressed the button that had activated it.
“I can still remember it,” muttered Danny to no one in particular, as he sat there at his desk. “It hurt so much, but it only lasted a little while.” He then thought about how Jazz, his older sister, had found him passed out on the floor of the laboratory and had gotten him to hospital.
For a week afterwards, he had blanked out several times only to find himself somewhere else. The doctors were baffled. They couldn’t find anything wrong with him, or so they said. And when his fainting bouts stopped, they discharged him.
“But something is wrong with me,” whispered Danny.
If only he could conjure up the courage to tell his family, to tell them what he was feeling and his greatest fear, yet something stopped him. Whenever he attempted to, his throat seemed to constrict and any words that came out became mangled and disfigured. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to tell his parents or his older sister about what he was experiencing, but any attempts to do so ended in failure. Danny almost felt as if the other personality, that he could feel residing inside him and chewing him up from the inside, was stopping him from saying anything to his parents.
“What do you want from me?” screamed Danny, as he clutched at his head. “Why are you doing this to me?” he screamed again, as he slammed his hands down on to the table and got up, shoving the chair away as he did so, to let it fall down on to the floor.
Danny’s breath had become shallow, as he turned away from his desk and made his way to the bed.
“Come with me,” whispered a voice that sounded just like his.
The black-haired youth turned round and saw nothing but the blank screen of his computer monitor. Danny walked up to it and looked at the dark, almost non-existent reflection in the blank screen, cast there by the light of his bedroom light and the roundness of the screen seemed to distort his face into a strange grin that nearly made him reel backwards.
“No,” muttered Danny, as he tore himself away from the blank computer screen. He shook his head in disbelief. “No, I won’t be you!” he screamed and turned to walk away, but his legs got caught in the legs of the chair and he tripped over, to fall to the ground. “I like myself how I am,” he said quietly between gasps for breath.
Tears streamed down from his eyes, as his breathing became shallower and shallower, as if someone was strangling him. His hands clenched into fists and he wanted to beat the floor, to beat something, to move, to do something… But what? His thoughts were confused, as if jumbled, and he wanted to cry, to shout, to laugh, to rage with fury and to cry. He wanted to do them all at once and then one by one. He wanted… What did he want?
Perhaps, he just wanted to be himself again and not to be this… this what? This wreck? This empty husk. And why did he want to be himself again, an amorphous form, an unnoticeable form that hardly anyone liked or noticed?
“Why can’t I remember?” he sobbed through tears. Why couldn’t he remembered what had happened after the accident? Was his mind deliberately repressing those memories? “Why won’t you leave me alone?” he screamed, as he removed his legs from the legs of the chair with one angry pull and leapt to his feet, grabbing the chair and throwing against the wall.
Time seemed to stand still, or at least slow down.
The chair seemed to explode against the wall in slow motion, wooden fragments falling to the floor of his bedroom and splinters flying from the remains of the wooden chair. And they all seemed to move so slowly, as if through some kind of viscous liquid or as if time had slowed down.
“What have I become?” wondered Danny slowly, as he fell to his knees and then to his hands and knees. His entire body shook, as if wracked with a mental pain, a mental anguish that burned his mind and sent synapses firing electrical impulses haphazardly to all parts of his body. “This isn’t me.” He shivered and then said, “Your Danny’s disappeared. It’s just me now.”
The door suddenly burst open and his Dad and Mom rushed in.
“Danny, is everything okay in here?” asked his Dad quickly. “Did you see a ghost?” he added even more quickly.
For a while, Danny didn’t reply. He just had an inane smirk on his lips, as he remained there on his hands and knees, looking down at the carpet. It slowly disappeared, as he got back up to his feet, slowly and swaying slightly as if drunk. “Yeah, I’m fine,” replied Danny to the first question. “I just got…” He then trailed off, as if he didn’t know what to say. “I need to go wash up,” he then said emotionlessly, as he turned to face his parents.
It seemed as if Danny was dead now, dead to the world and to his family. He didn’t even hear Jazz as she started shouting at his parents, blaming them for his strange behaviour by not confronting him and talking to him or comforting him when he needed it the most. Confrontations. It didn’t matter.
Oh, but there would be a confrontation.
Danny shut the bathroom door behind him and locked it firmly, before shuffling towards the bathroom sink. He turned the tap on and then looked at himself in the mirror, and was slightly relieved to see his own reflection in it, as he grabbed the sides of the sink with both hands. “I know you’re there,” whispered Danny, more to his reflection than anyone else. He then sniffed and laughed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he laughed mockingly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Yeah, I’m fine!” He laughed, as he lowered his head down to look in the sink and then with all his might, he rammed his head into the mirror, cracking the mirrored surface.
His reflection stared back at his bloody, bleeding face, as he looked back up at the cracked mirror. The hair was snow white with glowing green eyes, though Danny could still see some of his blood-matted hair and see it was still black. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he laughed again, mocking the words he had told his parents.
Danny’s face slowly relaxed, a peaceful smile spreading across his lips, as his eyelids slowly began to close. His grip on the sink weakened and loosened. He leaned backwards and then lost his grip on the bathroom sink, as he fell backwards to land with a thud, unconscious on the bathroom floor…
* * * * *
Danny found himself sitting on the edge of a bed in a red room where the walls were red stage curtains and the ceiling couldn’t be seen. It seemed like the same room from his dreams, a room with a linoleum floor and a black and white zig-zag pattern. He found himself staring past his clasped legs and between his legs towards the black and white floor, staring at the black and white waves.
“I’m waiting for you.”
Standing in the middle of the room, unsupported by a frame or wires, was a mirror that stood on its thin edge as if it had been stabbed into the heart of the room. There it stood, just like in all of Danny’s other dreams, reflecting the room but not him personally, as if it refused to even touch the light from him.
Suddenly, the room was plunged into Darkness and then there was a flickering of a bright, brilliant white light that was so white it was almost blue. And as the light flickered, Danny caught glimpses of the mirror and of his reflection with every flash of strobe light, and though it was difficult to tell what with the violent pulsing of light, he could have sworn that his reflection was leering at him from the mirror’s polished surface.
“I want to taste out of your mouth.”
“Who are you?” cried out Danny, or at least, that’s what he wanted to say, but his words didn’t come out and all that escaped from his mouth was a deafening silence.
The mirror started to ripple, as the strobe light flickered. And the movements of the person that moved through the mirror like moving through liquid mercury, seemed jerky, thanks to the flickering of the bright white light, the alternating between light and darkness like a violent and deadly struggle between light and shadow.
One second, he was far away and the next he was leering over Danny, grabbing his arms and pushing him back on to the bed, holding him down, staring into Danny’s eyes with his glowing green eyes.
Then there was darkness, pitch black darkness and then a burst of flames that momentarily illuminated Danny’s face and the empty space in front of him where the white-haired person had once stood.
There was light again and Danny now saw his white-haired reflection, standing above him.
And this person was like Danny in every single way, save for the hair that was as white as snow and the eyes that glowed a ghostly green. “Danny,” whispered the snow-white haired replica of him.
Doppelganger, that was the word wasn’t it?
“What are you?” asked Danny and was relieved that he could speak once more.
His Doppelganger didn’t reply. The snow-haired boy just stared into Danny’s sky blue eyes with a strange intensity, as if he was staring into Danny’s soul and studying it, scrutinising it and examining every excruciatingly fine detail of his soul. And he continued to gaze, until his eyelids lowered slightly, as if the effort of staring into Danny’s eyes was draining him of all his strength. His lips parted and he leaned in, planting his lips gently, yet firmly on Danny’s.
Pupils widened in disbelief, as the Doppelganger slipped his tongue past the raven-haired boy’s lips. He wanted to fight back, but he found himself unable to. All he could do, was just sit there, as the Doppelganger’s tongue plundered his mouth and ran along his teeth, duelling with own tongue as the kiss deepened and the Doppelganger’s body pressed closer to his. And he couldn’t fight against it, even though he wanted to, and he didn’t want to fight back, even though he did want to escape his Doppelganger’s grasp.
Danny’s mind was a jumble, just as it had been ever since the accident. Slivers of thoughts ended abruptly and prematurely, only to be continued by fragments of other thoughts. Notions and thoughts were spliced together, turned into hybrids of each other. Thoughts contradicted themselves, contradicted each other and simultaneously confirmed themselves and each other.
The kiss was undesirable and yet desirable. Danny wanted it to stop, yet he wanted it to continue. He understood the meaning of it, and yet didn’t understand. It felt wrong, and yet it also felt right.
The Doppelganger’s gloved hands slid underneath Danny’s shirt, rolling up the fabric as he deepened the kiss with Danny. Once he got to Danny’s arms, the Doppelganger broke off the kiss and then slipped Danny’s shirt off of him. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” whispered the Doppelganger.
“No, don’t,” protested Danny weakly, as he remembered all the words he had heard the Doppelganger say to him before. “I won’t… I won’t let you be me.”
“I am you,” retorted the Doppelganger. He then leaned in and kissed Danny on the lips, before trailing down, leaving a trail of blazing hot kisses on Danny’s smooth and perfect skin. “We’ve got to pull ourselves together. Don’t you want this?”
Danny placed his hands on his Doppelganger and tried to push away, but found himself unable to. The kiss on his neck was so loving, it was strange. He felt as if he couldn’t push his Doppelganger away, as if it wasn’t right. And truth be told, it felt good to be held in the Doppelganger’s firm embrace, to feel something so solid after so long of being denied even the simplest of hugs. “Yes,” sighed Danny. “No!” he cried suddenly, his eyes widening as a hand groped him.
“You lie,” whispered his Doppelganger. “You want this more than anything.” He straddled Danny, a great smile on his face. “Now let me taste through your mouth,” he said quietly, as he held the raven-haired boy down. “Let me see through your eyes and hear through your ears.” And then he kissed Danny hard, his lips forming a seal around Danny’s lips, as his tongue slipped in, almost as if the Doppelganger were trying to climb in through Danny’s mouth.
The Doppelganger felt Danny place his hands against his chest in an attempt to shove him away. Yet he did not budge and would not let Danny move in, and in a way, the pitiful effort that Danny attempted the task was indicative of his slight reluctance to end the kiss.
A hand roughly ran against his crotch, massaging him through the thick fabric of his jeans. He could feel the fingers grasp him roughly and Danny gasped into the Doppelganger’s mouth, as he was roughly caressed and brought to attention. Danny could feel himself responding to his Doppelganger’s responses in ways that he thought never possible and as he hardened, the better it got. He found himself enjoying himself in a way that he never thought possible. He found himself wanting more. He found himself wanting his Doppelganger to do whatever he wanted with him. He wanted to give his body over and not a shred of intelligence within his mind seemed to want to protest against this.
Hands fiddled with the top button of his jeans and undid them, before unzipping his jeans agonisingly slow. The Doppelganger pulled on them and almost by instinct, Danny lifted his hips to allow it and his underwear to be pulled away, to free his hardened erection.
Danny felt exposed, as if the Doppelganger had removed everything that could protect his heart and soul from outside forces. He tried to hide himself as much as possible, but the Doppelganger wouldn’t let it and pinned him down with his own weight, leaning down on top of him holding him tightly against his still clothed body. Danny felt himself wrap his arms around his Doppelganger as best as he could, as the fabric rubbed against his naked and sensitive erection.
“You don’t know how special you are,” whispered the Doppelganger, before he kissed Danny deeply and lewdly with all his might, feeling Danny kiss back. “But you will do,” finished the Doppelganger, as he pulled away from his black-haired opposite. “Let me finish this. I want to be you and you must be me. Let’s do it. Let’s do it, Danny.”
“Please, I…” began Danny, but he couldn’t finish.
“We belong together,” whispered the Doppelganger, after slipping his clothes off. “Don’t deny yourself this.”
Danny gasped as the Doppelganger entered him.
And what followed became a blur. Danny couldn’t think properly. He couldn’t move properly. All he could do was submit to the Doppelganger’s passions and become his for the taking and enjoy it. And he couldn’t help but moan, as a great feeling welled up within him, making him arch upwards and push himself against the Doppelganger.
His vision became a blur. His senses became a blur. All he could focus on was the overwhelming pleasure that had overtaken him, that wracked his body and inflamed his heart and soul. All he could do was inhale sharply, gasp, moan and let the Doppelganger enter him further and slip into the deep throes of an orgasm that blinded him and made stars explode in his vision.
And only one collapsed down, completely exhausted…
It seems strange now that I look back on it.
Did it really happen?
Now that I think about it, everything seemed so clear. All those times I blacked out, well… I now remember what I did during those times I supposedly blacked out. I can remember using my powers, going through walls, being a complete nuisance to Dash… You know, that sort of thing. It seems that way, anyhow. I don’t know why I remember now, but…Well, I do now, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.
Sure, I guess I did kinda act a bit strange around my friends and family then. Maybe it was just the shock of having these ghost powers. I don’t know. It all seems just so strange, though.
But… did I really…? Did I really have sex with my ghost form or was that all a dream?
I don’t know.
I can’t tell.
I just know I’m special now, like I’ve always been… Even before the accident. I guess, I never realised it before.
And I guess, we’re all special in some way.
Yeah.
We’re all special in some way.
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