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Kindred Spirits	By : RedelliaValentinos Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom Views: 206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, I don't own any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story, I write this purely for the enjoyment of writing. It's just me and a keyboard and my wild brain.

Chapter List
- 34
- 35
- 36
Danny thought nothing of the one year mark from the day of his accident. The concept of the anniversary of his partial death was, at best, unconsidered. At worst, thoroughly unwelcome. He ignored the flurry of days going by, in favor of working to correct his grades so as to avoid another course of summer school. Like any sensible teen, living or dead, he'd hated not having the summer to goof off. And so those days leading up to his deathly anniversary were quite busy. Right up until the night before the clock was due to turn over.
He ate dinner, made jokes, helped clean up, soaked up the family movie and laughed some more. Jasmine made him stand on the bathroom scale, was pleased to see that his weight was within an acceptable range, and sent him to bed. He curled up, content and comfortable, and went out like a light...
He woke up freezing.
Danny's eyes shuddered open to see his alarm clock, and he was highly displeased that he was awake a whole thirty minutes early. For all of one second. No sooner had he laid his eyes on the time than did he notice that he was shivering. He struggles upright, straining the muscles in his arms to push himself up and watches cold crystals coat his skin in record time.
"What the..." He fights the clattering of his teeth and inspects his left palm, just in time to watch the ice coat his hand all the way to his fingertips.
"Oh no." His heart beats hard in his chest as he stiffly moves towards the edge of the bed. His limbs fight him every millimeter of the way. He gets there, and falls. Freezing legs tangling in the blankets, he lands with a shout.
"Come on! Move!" He feels robotic, having to limit himself to the simplest movements. And even those are growing more difficult with each passing moment. It takes him five minutes just to get to his feet, arms wrapped around himself in the world's most useless attempt to warm up. Ice coats his toes and climbs up his legs as he does, and a high pitched exhale of air rips out of him as the cold climbs higher, to his stomach and chest. Putting one foot in front of the other proves painful. Bending his limbs accordingly emits the sound of glass cracking. And each new crack hurts worse than the last.
Just as he reaches his door, it opens, revealing a groggy Jasmine. And Jasmine wakes up pretty quickly once she sees her brother.
"Oh my god! Danny!" She reaches for him in panic, only for him to pull away, groaning as a new crack announces, bone deep.
"Don't...touch m-my skin! Just..." Just those words exhaust him, "I need...get m-me to the p-portal!" It hurts, but he gets it out.
"Well, maybe I should call Vl-"
"-No!"
"Danny, look at you! You're turning into an icicle!"
"NO! H-he has a f-f-fire core! I'll-ll o-only hurt h-him! J-just get m-me t-to the portal!"
"But-"
"-NOW!"
It's a battle to get him down two flights of stairs. With his entire body freezing solid, he can't feel those gaps within anymore. Otherwise, he'd float himself down at the very least. By the time they're opening the portal bay doors, he's lost most of his sensation. All that's left is the blinding pain. And the only thing keeping him from screaming in agony was, ironically, the ice itself.
The ugly swirling vortex of green greets them, illuminating their bodies and for a brief moment, the halfa feels relief.
"You can't fly like this! How will you get through?"
"J-just...give...sh-shove."
Jasmine nods in understanding, however terrified and worried she might be, and gives him a full body push into the portal.
It's a gamble, just asking to be thrown through and hope he doesn't fall. But it pays off.
Danny finds himself adrift in the Ghost Zone, its arid purple hues and floating nonsensical materials his only guide. Jazz has given him just enough of a shove that he can drift forward without stopping. So he gathers up what little strength remains and gives a light kick towards the path he wants to go. Something snaps inside, hot pain radiating through the cold. He'd scream if his jaw wasn't frozen shut.
'I just hope I can steer myself in the right direction.'
Having pushed himself out of bed and forced himself upright and down several stairs, all of that effort drained him. Danny's eyes threaten to drift shut the whole way, but he keeps them open. He's tired. He's freezing. He's in unrivalled agony. He suspects that both of his legs are broken. And all of his toes. Possibly even shattered inside. Pure death, in all its finality, freedom and release from this frigid torture seems like an excellent idea. He'd truly welcome it, just to end the pain. It almost seems possible, were it not for the fact that he's awake and aware of what's wrong with him.
"I'm trying to prepare you for the inevitable epiphany that's coming your way. Because once it crosses your path, you'll be begging for an end that will never come."
'I hate it when adults are right,' Danny thinks, eyes searching the Zoneline for those frozen peaks.
...just when it begins to feel as if several hours have passed, that lazing trail of wafting cold catches his senses. He follows it as best as he can until a familiar island of ice and snow comes into view. The halfa's addled consciousness slips away just as he thanks whatever fate, deity or burst of luck that got him there and his eyes all but slam shut.
Danny impacts the fluffy terrain rather gently. A small burst of flakes and crystals flurry about before crowding around him and settling silently.
-
Frostbite has been waiting. The scans and imaging he took so many months ago allowed him to make calculations. He expected a planned arrival. One that was well-thought out and intentional. Not unannounced and accidental.
The detailed render that Frostbite has been watching, a live simulation of the growth of Danny's core, has been blaring alarms at him for days. When it started, he began watching the Ghost Zone's horizon, if one could even call it that, waiting for the boy to return on Vlad's hip. But the pair never came. The hours he spent eyeing the zoneline grew anxious and worried. The snowbeast became restless with every second, and he was beginning to wonder if he would need to go to the living realm of his own accord.
He wouldn't have to.
What he did have to do was interfere with young beasts full of pride and eager to defend their home.
They all heard the impact, however faint it was. Every ear turned towards its direction, to the outer edge of the Far Frozen border. Frostbite ran for it when he heard it, as did several others with spears. Their youth proves difficult to keep up with, and though he shouts orders to remain calm and essentially ask questions before they stab, his only hope will be to find the crash zone before them.
Nearly half an hour is spent just sifting and stabbing through the snowbound foliage. But Frostbite does find a slight dip in the snow. A depression. Barely noticeable as the loosened snow had settled back down rather well. It's good timing, he realizes, as he digs down through the cold and finds a frozen corpse. Even too his own touch, his own preferences, even to his own nature as a beast of the Far Frozen, he finds the small body far too cold for comfort. Scooping the halfa into his hold as best as he can spurs him back to the settlement. The unnatural, beyond supernatural chill of Danny's body has him shuddering.
He carts the boy past the village square, past every hut and cave and ice wall. As cold as Danny's body is, if his calculations are correct, he's not cold enough. There's enough of a temperature difference between the atmosphere and the halfa's body that the process has halted. He just needs to be properly submerged. Past the training grounds, there's a lake. The surface has been frozen for thousands of years. There's very few who even know that it exists. That water runs beneath the surface. But he knows. And he knows where the weak spots are. He finds one, out in the lake's center, and carefully grasps the frozen body in one arm while he lashes out with the other, clawing at ice and permafrost as hard and as fast as he can.
He doesn't realize he's drawing an audience, nor does he care. The pups and juveniles gather at the lake's outer edge, but never step onto the ice. Were it not so serious of a matter, he might be going slower, slow enough to realize how mad he must appear to have gone.
The surface crackles and breaks after a few moments, forming a jagged opening.
"With any luck, this will be cold enough."
With greater care than he's ever known himself to be capable of, Frostbite lowers the frozen body into the frigid black waters. The temperature is nearly unbearable to him, nearly urging him to pull away. His fur freezes at its touch, chunks of ice forming and weighing him down. But he doesn't stop. He gingerly submerges the boy until all that graces the surface is a frozen face coated in unforgiving crystal. He hesitates there, staring at the strangely hued flesh patterned in snowflakes.
"It's almost over, Snowdrift." and he lets go.
- 34
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- 36
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Kindred Spirits