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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
- 36
- 37
- 38
Frostbite gets Danny to the med lab without further incident, which is a blessing considering no one in the village knew how to respond to his new form. Danny felt the stares in his core, prickling and scratching at its shielding with his emotions. He's always been the odd one out. It's not new. Unable to speak, he can't say anything to calm them. Not that he imagined there were any words that would. He stuck close to Frostbite, keeping his sounds to a minimum and his impact on the snow slight. He'll need to relearn the sensations in his bones before he can fly, again. But he can worry about that later. Not now, when so many yeti give questioning looks and clutch their spears a little too tightly.
Frostbite had ignored the looks in favor of getting him into the cave and seated on the table.
Danny's tail drapes across the cold metal surface easily, wiggling his spine in a strange way. Not uncomfortable, just new. Feeling the table under it... It's an extension of his spine. But it feels like just another limb. Another part. It is, that's the point. But his brain is having a hard time with it, physically feeling something beneath and behind him when he's not looking at it.
"You can change back, now. It's much warmer in here."
Danny lets the buzz come to him again and feels an absurd amount of relief when his skin softens and the mask is gone. Crystalline flesh melts away to human and he breaths a sigh of near pleasure. A new rattle passes through his spine at the feeling...and he jumps off the table with a shout.
"Are you kidding me?!" he snaps his head around to look.
Frostbite smirks. "It'll be an adjustment, but I expected that."
Danny glares and snatches his tail, colored black like his left fingers, pulling it forward and holding it up towards the yeti.
"How the fuck am I supposed to hide this?! Humans don't have tai- ta- Humans don't have these!"
"Language, pup. There are a few methods. You could keep it in a state of flux between intangible and invisibl-"
"-And spend the next four years torturing myself and falling asleep on my feet because I'm draining my core?"
"You could use an enchantme-"
"-I can't do magic!"
"Or," Frostbite bites, frustrated with Danny's tone, "you could wrap it around your leg and tuck it in under your clothing."
"Tuck it in?! Really?!"
"It would be the easiest in your case. Though it will take a while for you to get used to cloth rubbing against it, it may be your best option."
His tail sways side to side in anger and his pupils thin to glare at the yeti.
"Tuck. It. In." It seems so...undignified? Is he actually feeling offended at the concept? Or is it just frustration with the situation, plus the fact that he can't just let it hang out like a cat because it'll give him away? He feels a spine brush against a leg of the table and shudders in disgust at the contact.
The cold air seeps in, irritating him further. Not because it's cold, but because it's there at all. The breeze from his lashing tail bounces back over it and his lip curls back in a snarl. The noise from outside, words of discomfort and distrust towards his ghostly mutation, judgements rendered without consideration for his suddenly enhanced hearing, pour in past his drums in an unwelcome flash-flood.
Frostbite looks at him in concern, sensing his core vibrating dangerously. Danny's temper roils to the surface and the fern on his arm lights up a vibrant blue. His sclera darken while cyan illuminates and his pupils turn a hot white. His fingers curl into his palms and he opens his throat.
...The shriek cracks the walls and rattles the entire island. Frostbite barely manages to turn away and cover his ears so they don't rupture. Outside, the villagers panic and scatter. The lake groans again. The echo tumbles through the violet zoneline. Drifting doors in its path are blown off course and sent tumbling further into the void.
The violent, unearthly shriek fades. Frostbite looks back. The fern's light has died and while human eyes have returned to normal, they're welling up with tears. Danny slumps to the floor, leaning against a cold metal leg and his tail lays limp across the icey floor. There's no strength in him to actually heave and cry. He just sits there, eyes unfocused, tears streaming down his face, hands twitching sporadically in his lap.
The yeti huffs slightly, but bites back any frustration he might have had, in favor of recognizing the obvious. The boy is young. He's still human, thus hormonal. And, a teenager. His whole world has been upended for a year, now, with very few people in existence to find comfort from. And fewer still who understand what's new, what's changed, what's coming his way. Frostbite just hopes that, aside from the vessel spell's manifestation, the banshee-esque wail is the last of it.
Danny processes very little from there on out. He's vaguely, very distantly aware that he's being lifted up off the floor and carried. "Let's get you home" comes through groggy and faint. He feels fur under his touch and gently grasps it in an attempt to ground himself. Underneath it all, he hears a soft hum from the yeti's chest, thrumming in a steady beat. That's really all that comes through for a long time. Just a steady and consistent pulse to pacify him. Calm him.
His eyes are rather cloudy when Frostbite finally deposits him onto a familiar bed. The water works have dried up by then. The snowbeast is careful when draping a fluffy star print blanket over him, taking extra care to avoid brushing his tail with it too much. It's mid-day, the afternoon sun is blaring through the window uninvited. There's no drapes to draw for darkness, but an old dingy curtain rod does sit at the top of the frame. Frostbite takes another blanket that's fallen onto the floor and hangs it over the rod, cutting off most of the sunlight. The room darkens rather nicely.
He's just neatening the makeshift drapery when he hears a door open behind him. Alerted, he turns around.
Leaning against the doorframe with arms folded is a human. A redhead, slightly taller than the child he's just tucked in. Her eyes are a strange bluish green, but they're clear as crystal. Focused. Aware. Her scent rings a few bells.
"You're awfully gutsy. My parents left less than fifteen minutes ago. They tend to shoot first and not ask questions."
"Well. Perhaps I'm just lucky," Frostbite replies, and then gives a slight bow, "You must be dear Snowdrift's older sibling."
"Jasmine."
"I trust you are the one that set him adrift to my realm?"
"I pushed him. He steered."
"Every contribution, no matter how small, is still counted."
Jasmine glares. "You should go. Before mom and dad come back. I told them and the school he was sick. I've been keeping them away from his room all day and I need a break."
"Mm." Frostbite examines the apparent, semi-lifeless corpse on the bed. "He'll need his rest. It's been quite a day for him."
"I can tell. Go."
He gives her another bow and passes through the ceiling with ease.
"Okay. What happened?" The redhead asks as she sits down on the edge of the bed.
A huge, shaky and shuddering breath escapes Danny's frame. "Oh... My core finished growing... I turn into some sort of ice raptor... Frostbite called it an imp... I have a tail, now..." He doesn't even pick his head up to look at her. He just stares out at nothing.
"What was that last part?" she asks in confusion.
"I have a tail, now."
Jasmine's eyes narrow. "What?"
Danny's eyes drift shut as he takes in another breath, fighting back the urge to cry again. "I. Have. A. Tail. Now. Please, don't make me say it, again."
"O-okay, but-"
"Don't."
Jasmine swallows and sits quietly for a few minutes, trying to process the information. Her leg begins bouncing, her mind flurrying around the last byte of data and trying to cope with it.
-
Vlad has not been having a good day. He woke up hot and overheated, and feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. From the sound of Plasmius in his head, he was feeling it, too. Moving an arm and reaching for his nightstand takes an entire hour. The muscles inside are enflamed in temperature, wreaking havoc and hell on his nerves. Full body neuropathy. Not exactly what he'd been expecting to wake up to.
"Will you stop moving already?!"
"I need..." Vlad sighs heavily, straining, "I need to check...ugh..."
"I don't need to know how hot it is. It's fucking unbearable."
"Numbers, you cheap Notre Dame menace. I need... Hard... Numbers... Fuck!"
The thermometer he keeps in the top drawer is just inches away. He's almost there! He can see the drawer after he spends fifteen minutes turning his head to the right to look. It's so close!
"Why? It won't change the fact that this-self feels like shit."
"Because," Vlad huffs, "If this core is too hot, then this-self needs to cool down... Fuck, I must be cooked. I'm talking like you."
"Same body, whelp."
Vlad groans. He stops trying to reach for the thermometer. There's no point. If he's running as hot as he thinks he is, he'll just max it out, and that won't help at all.
"You could at least try to be more pleasant."
"Being an embodiment of partial existential denial hardly warrants the traditional pleasantries. Especially when it's this-self this is stuck with."
"And yet...fighting and arguing won't change the situation."
"...misery loves company."
"Oh, fuck you."
There's a tired, heat-exhausted laugh that Vlad barely hears. He almost misses it through the pain. But it does come through. He'd roll his eyes, but that would take effort. Instead, he chooses to lay there and stare at his ceiling. He's in utter agony and without the strength to fight it.
-
Vlad's head pounds for several hours. He's spent about half of the day completely horizontal when a whisp of red smoke cuts through his throat, frigid, gritty and sharp. He just manages to crane his head towards his door when it frosts over and opens, revealing fractal cold scattering across the wood and carpet and a nine foot snowbeast that raises a brow at the sight of him. Thoroughly heat-sick and not appearing to be improving anytime soon.
"Ah. Just as I suspected. Your core is also-"
"-Matured? Finalized? Finished? Ultimately decided to be a pain in the arse? All of the above? Yes. What do you want?" Vlad sighs and looks back up at his ceiling. It's a lovely ceiling. All dark and gray and stone.
"You're full of shit," Plasmius snarls in his head.
"The boy's core has also matured. I think he could have handled it better, but, considering the circumstances, it could have been a lot worse."
"Daniel has taken everything thrown to him in stride with a grace even I can't hope to match. He's surprisingly...resiliant." Vlad says softly.
Frostbite gives him a look. Eyes colored with anxiety, "The Far Frozen is cracked in multiple places, my lab is structurally unsound, and the boy is to blame."
Vlad blinks. "He cracked the island?"
Frostbite comes over to the bed and lays the back of his ice coated hand across the halfa's forehead. "He is bitter, he is angry, he is overwhelmed, he is fueled by an endless supply of spectral energy, and he has developed a new power. I'm sure even you can see the danger of such a combination."
The cold is both a relief and a stress; Vlad flinches away at the touch.
"I've gotten him home. You'll want to check on the pup at some point, but he'll be fine. How are the two of you doing?"
Vlad inwardly snarls at the question. It's nice that someone else is capable of concern for him. It's certainly been a long time since anyone asked. But the recognition that it's not just him laying in his bed, even though he would argue that it is, and thus addressing the inquiry to both him and the pest in his head, just urks him.
"I'm fine, thank you. Just let my brain overcook and hallucinate in peace, please."
''You're no fun."
''You are not fine. Your core is continuing to rise in temperature, but far too slowly. You need to increase your temperature a bit more before you can return to normal.''
The halfa glares. ''Have you lost your mind?''
''No,'' Frostbite replies calmly, ''the boy had to freeze solid. Logic dictates that you will have to burn.''
''...what?''
The yeti phases a hand into Vlad's chest in search of his core energy, and finds it with relative ease, ''Spontaneous combustion is usually the quickest method, nearly instantaneous, but it's my understanding that human bodies are not prone to reaching such temperatures often, and generally require an external source of ignition."
''What?'' Vlad finds a sudden small burst of energy and attempts to sit upright, only to be pushed back down.
''And since your outer shell is otherwise incombustible, it's best to start the fire from inside.''
''Just what do you think you're doing?!'' the halfa tries to sit up again, only to be pushed flat a second time.
An annoyed huff slips out. ''I'm drawing out any remaining cold to superheat your core. Consider it a rapid non-nuclear meltdown. This will hurt, but it will be quick.''
Vlad doesn't hear much beyond that. Not the words of comfort the beast provides, nor his own rushed ramblings of refusal and preferance to just suffer slowly into the night.
Just his own screaming.
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- 38
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Kindred Spirits