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Kindred Spirits Complete	By : RedelliaValentinos Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom Views: 507 -:- 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
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Physically, Danny's hybridized body makes no more appearances in the house. Neither does his original ghost form, which he was incredibly grateful to keep. He likes it just a little too much to let it go. But, the house is too small. Too narrow in some spots, too low and/or cramped in others. The average two story dwelling for homo-sapiens was never designed, considered or intended for supernatural half-dead demonspawn. Most of all, the stairs are not built for his leg structure. So, he packs his other forms away and explores them elsewhere. Somewhere outside the house.
Which suits Jasmine just fine. She's under far less anxiety that way. Though she wonders where he goes at night, she's had enough of the half-ghost nonsense that she's less than inclined to ask. As long as he's smart about it and doesn't get hurt, she doesn't care.
What does continue, however, is the myriad of little noises he makes. The squeaks. The chitters and clicks. The purring. The odd rumbles and snarls. All the sounds that he initially did his best to keep under wraps are now practically unrestrained. In addition, he begins communing with his ghost regularly. Sometimes loudly, sometimes under his breath, but usually like it's right there next to him. Like a person. And he'll have full conversations with it. ...well, as full as they can be, considering neither she nor his friends can hear it.
Talk about one-sided...
It doesn't bother them too much, it's just weird. ...they consider it a small mercy that he doesn't talk in his sleep.
But Danny continues. As himself. As a friend, as a brother, as a college student drowning in his assignments, as a chosen companion to another, and as a half dead freak of nature. All at his best. The alterations have made him a tad quirky, but no less lovable to those around him.
-
They're prepping a stew in the kitchen when the first real sign of something rears its head. Something strange and wild. Just like he could be, but it slips out of a human shape. Whatever it is, wherever it comes from, whichever side birthed it, it spawns there in the kitchen one evening, just a few weeks later.
There's a small radio on the table to fill the air. Jasmine hums along to the tune. Tchaikovsky something-or-other. Danny doesn't recognize it. But it's calming. The room is light and free, in rare form. He's chopping at meat and his sister is pulling the crock-pot out of the cabinet when a thought awakens.
He stares at the flesh on the board, raw and soft and red, and wonders...
"Do you think Vlad gets hungry?"
Jasmine sets the appliance on the counter and turns to look at him in confusion.
"Well, yeah. You both still have to eat, so, why wouldn't he?"
The knife in his hand hovers above a piece to be cut, "I wonder if he's hungry right now..."
His stomach rumbles at him.
"No, I think it's just you."
He gives a quiet hum and goes back to cutting, albeit more slowly than before. His eyes cloud over as he works. There's a haze setting in within his mind. The creature inside begins to wander the halls, with no set destination. No goals. It just putters about without rhyme or reason.
They wonder why they feel this way. Why are they suddenly curious about something so insignificant? Why do they care? ...why does it bother them that they're asking? It feels like the answer is a simple one. It feels like they should already know. It feels like...
'We're missing something.'
'We're missing something.'
Danny mutters incoherently as he nudges the meat into the pot. He's merely rolling air over his teeth. Making simple little sounds that don't have purpose. Akin to a toddler trying its letters for the first time. Bumbling his way through the alphabet, quite out of order...
"Be-... No-... H-... Ca-... Le-... May-... G-..."
...he's testing the shapes and sounds across his tongue, hoping for an answer to their question...
"Th-... Ja-... Wh-... Do-... Pl-... Yo-..."
Jasmine eyes him, mildly disturbed by the noises.
"Re-... Ea-... Ki-... Un-..."
"Hopefully you'll clear up in that head of yours once you've got some food in you."
"So-... Ar-... Vl-... O-..."
The redhead rolls her eyes.
"Fo-... Foo-..." Danny blinks, "...food..."
"Danny...?"
"Food..."
'...hunt...?'
'...provide.'
His eyes light up.
Jasmine yelps as he blows by her, nearly knocking her over. She barely maintains her footing as he bolts out the front door, leaving it open and letting the cooler air into the house.
"Danny!" She darts after him, not sure if she wants to grab him by his pointed ears or by his tail...
But he's gone.
There's no sign of him. Frantically looking around, the streets are nearly empty and no pedestrian pacing the walk matches her brother or his erratic behavior. And no one seems alerted to the sudden disappearance of a local. No one seems to have witnessed him leave. No one noticed a thing.
"Which means he flew, and he's invisible," she leans against the doorframe in exhaustion, "I am so tired of this ghost shit."
-
It's so simple! Why didn't it click before?!
Danny flies low and level over foreign terrain, at an unforgiving speed no living creature can reach. He's not familiar with much outside of his little town, but somehow, he knows where he's going. There's something guiding him. A call. A supernatural lure. The stumbles of speech felt like he was jumping out for something and unable to reach. Now he's on the line and doesn't want to let go.
Chasing after the completion of a task he didn't even know he needed to complete until just moments ago, he feels like they're in agreement on something. Not that they ever really fight, but this, this needs to be done. The idea he's never had before pounds at his brain and he's compelled to follow.
He needs to hunt. They need to provide.
...he passes over a varied landscape as the sun falls. Small towns. Hole-in-the-wall shops. Ghost towns. Abandoned buildings, some little more than heaps of rotting lumber. What he seeks, there's no trail to follow. It's all instinct, all over again.
He changes forms just as he passes over the state border. The sun is long gone by the time he turns away from the roads and slows down to drift over a field. There isn't much around. Just dying patchworks of grass and autumn leaves and plenty of trees. And a full moon to throw a margin of light. He hangs lower, almost ghosting brown blades of flora, and follows his nose.
The scents of numerous animals float by. Many of them edible, but none strike him right. Rabbits and hares, squirrels and pheasants, even woodchucks. But he wants something heavier. Something more. Something that'll go farther. Last longer. It takes a few hours, but he finds what he's after.
An entire herd of deer resting in brush that skirts a familiar tree line.
This time, he doesn't crouch for the hunt. He doesn't feel the need to. He hovers in the night, as quiet as he can and studies the group. His stomach growls at him, reminding him that he has yet to eat. But this isn't for him. Not for either of them.
'Need to provide.'
'Need to provide.'
One buck stands out. It's a little further afield, nearly out of the brush. It's rack is less of a show than others. It's young. Healthy.
'Perfect.'
'Perfect.'
He lunges for it without anymore thought.
Claws turned outward sink into warm flesh with no effort. Muscle and sinew tear beneath his fingers. Bones crack and crush. The animal belts out into the cool air in surprise as the force of Danny's impact sends them both tumbling across the field in a deathly roll. It kicks and cries to get free, jerking its head about as the herd scrambles to their hooves and runs away.
A snarl rises from Danny's throat as his tail tangles in its rear legs, kinking the bones within until pain radiates up his spine. Their roll loses energy and comes to a bloody stop. Iron streaks the ground in a grisly trail.
The buck keeps thrashing, and with his tail caught around its limbs, Danny does the next best thing he can think of. He slams a hand down on its neck and holds it, barely dodging its antlers in the process, sinks his teeth into its throat and pulls. Blood and tissue fill his mouth. He doesn't blink. The prey beneath him gargles around its own life-force, struggling to breath as torn arteries pour down its esophagus.
The ground beneath them rumbles with the startling of soon-to-be hibernating creatures. The herd, in the distance, shudders and scatters in fear, in uncoordinated circles.
Something snaps in his tail as the buck flails. His claws sink into its hide in response and he goes back in for another bite. Hot blood paints his face and hands, some gets in his eyes. Again, he doesn't blink.
His fangs practically slide into something tough and fibrous. Almost chewy. But it holds, and he pulls.
The grass warms beneath him and shimmers in the moonlight. At the same time, his prey gives another strained gargle, louder than the first. Its kicks slow. It lays its shaking body and head down on the earth, and jerks sporadically.
Danny struggles to get free, one leg trapped under the weight of the dying creature. He growls as he turns over, claws at the dirt and crawls free. Rising to his hooves, his heart sings with the success of the hunt. That strange something that had lured him out to the middle of nowhere starts to settle down.
His tail flops to the ground with a heavy thud while he regains his breath. The pain seeps in with the clarity gradually.
"...fuck."
'...fuck.'
They'll worry about it later.
He gathers the buck up, pulling it over his shoulders, and proceeds to walk. There's landmarks in the black to follow. Familiar dips and rises of land. The fading scent of pollen. Ragweed that will soon emerge. He knows where he's going, even if he doesn't. His eyes glint in the night in searching. He listens for what will be his guide.
A change in the land beneath his hooves.
Soil to sediment.
Sediment to pavement.
Pavement to cobblestone...
Cobblestone...
...to granite.
He can make out an outline of steps just fine. And they're right. The right span, the right height, the right number. He's not built for climbing human architecture in this body. It's far too awkward to be reasonable. But he manages to do so, finding this stairwell far less confined than the one at home. When he reaches the landing, he lays his kill down quietly.
Something bubbles up in his chest, a flutter of pride. A touch of contentment. And...something else. He's... They're...
...happy.
It's a strange array of feelings to process. He's never even felt pride before. But here, now, that's what he's feeling. Pride, content, happy. Maybe even a little joyful...
His tail tries to twitch to match his mood, only to tug on the break, earning a loud yelp.
-
"I can't believe you broke your tail! What were you even doing?!"
Jasmine wraps the bandages firmly around the center of the appendage to hold several dowels in place, treating them like splints. The break will heal, his body will mend it and restore it to its original state in a few days. But it's best to be safe. The pressure of the makeshift bracing will help.
"I don't know, it just happened!" He doesn't turn to look her in the eye, lest she detect the waver in his voice. He knows what he did. They know what they did. They know why. The memory is clear and thriling. The mantra is short, simple, loud, but dissipating...
Hunt.
Provide.
Her hand jerks with the wrapping, tugging on the injury.
"Maybe it's a good thing you're moving in with Vlad, after all," the redhead muses.
"So you'll stop putting a knife to his throat?" he asks.
Jasmine shrugs. "We'll see."
He rolls his eyes, but sits there on the table, wincing and pouting.
Holy fuck, does his tail hurt.
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Kindred Spirits Complete