Danny took his sweet time getting the rest of his pajamas back on, unsure of whether he should be worried about being unable to uphold his ruse. He wasn't particularly troubled about Vlad's reaction, but more so that he could no longer use those lies as a crutch. Something inside him said that Vlad wouldn't let him stay in bed all day, and would furthermore give Danny more to do than just read. Although he hadn't been reading in the first place anyway. Still...if only he could've held it off for one more day...

Oh well, what's done is done. Even if Danny had managed to keep the lie alive, time would eventually rat him out—he wouldn't be able to use his broken hand as an excuse to stay in bed forever. It was bound to happen sometime, so it might as well happen whenever.

He sighed in discontent as he struggled to put on his socks one-handedly, his toes repeatedly slipping away from the entrance. Fabric defied his attempts to dress until he clasped the rim of the opening between his two first toes, awkwardly coaxing it over the smaller ones. The thick material felt odd against his humidity-dampened skin.

Danny didn't usually wear socks to bed because it made him feel confined and uncomfortable. However, his need for warmth went past that. If he didn't wear socks, his feet would turn stone cold, pale, and numb, even with several blankets over the comforter. It had become a somewhat usual occurrence ever since the accident.

The other sock somehow slipped on, and the teenager groaned as he got up from the heated tile of the bathroom, dreading for the moment he walks out of it. Fog manifested by the steam from his shower clung to the mirror, thankfully shielding Danny from his image when he stood up. He didn't need to see his reflection to tell he looked dreadfully tired and thin, and he didn't want to confirm the fact. Yet he stared at the blurred multitude of colors that followed him in the mirror, abstract grey patches of flat clouds glaring at him.

He gingerly set his hand on the golden door handle and contemplated whether he really should leave before deciding all this second-guessing is stupid. Pushing down the handle to the bathroom door, he hoped Vlad wouldn't point out his scrappy appearance. The man lacked a polite filter in the sense of what seemed to be his mocking of Danny, or at least that was how Danny wanted to interpret it.

Had Danny walked out of the bathroom any faster he would've bumped into Vlad's waiting form, but since he was moving at a painfully slow pace, he merely took a few steps forward with his head hung and looked up slightly when a pair of expertly-kept dress shoes slid into his line of vision. The smell of freshly dry-cleaned suit and cologne gently pushed away the lingering aroma of shower.

Height-wise, Danny was considerably shorter than the billionaire and came up to the area a little more below his broad shoulders, which was where his eyes had leveled. He wasn't in the mood to squint upwards at the sturdy pole of a man.

"Daniel," Vlad began in a slightly peeved tone. Aside from his voice, Danny didn't need to see his face to tell he was ticked off. The aura around him spoke it clear as day. "If you wanted to take a shower, you should've just told me."

Danny's eyes were fixed on the impeccable loose bow tie the man always wore, wondering why Vlad wore such an unmasculine item. "Huh?"

"The IV. You should've had me take out your IV." The man reiterated shortly. He pulled Danny's chin up to make the boy face him, only to be met with oodles of messy, overgrown hair. With a slight huff, he pushed the bangs back so he could see Daniel's muggy water-colored eyes. Only for them to spring back over them as soon as he let go. Deciding it wasn't worth it, Vlad gave up the struggle and removed his invasive hands from Danny's face.

Little did he know, had he held on any longer, the boy would've slapped his hand away.

"Doesn't matter," Danny replied, welcoming the hate that had flared in his gut. He looked down at the ground with his eyes still shielded behind their silken black veil, not wanting to stare at any part of Vlad anymore. The ground swayed slightly beneath his feet. "I can turn it intangible. I don't need your permission for every little thing."

"No, you don't." Masters confirmed. "It's nice to see you taking care of yourself without my telling you. God knows it's about time you start taking the initiative. But you obviously haven't been observant...I've stopped turning the needles intangible."

The billionaire put his hand on Danny's back to guide them away from the bathroom door, "I wasn't sure if it was healthy and could care less to find out, as I have more pressing matters to focus on." He uncaringly informed. "To be on the safe side, I'd rather do them the human way."

Danny didn't know how turning the needles intangible could be unsafe, but as much as he hated to admit it, Vlad likely knew more about anything science or ghost related than he. Although, Danny didn't care much for his physical well being and didn't see the need to go the safe route. Either way, he'd still get injected with who-knows-what kind of virus or whatever the correct terminology was. So technically it didn't matter.

The boy begrudgingly allowed Vlad to steer him and didn't bother to raise his eyes to see where they were going, although he was currently going through an inner debate over whether he wanted his alone time or to annoy Vlad.

When Danny remained quiet and didn't answer his last statement, Vlad continued. "Apart from the possible unsafe nature of turning them intangible, I'm more upset you chose to leave the needle on the floor." As he said this, his grip on Danny slightly tightened, and by reflex, the boy did too. "Firstly, it's incredibly unsanitary. And secondly, a health hazard."

Danny darkly grumbled, "Good." To which Vlad immediately slapped him upside the head.

"I won't tolerate that kind of attitude, Daniel." He warned, sending a glare so powerful it raised hairs on the back of Danny's neck, combined with the lingering sting from being slapped. It had been a lighter slap than what the man generally offered during their light show-esque fights. But that aside, Vlad had superhuman strength. Therefore his version of a lighter slap didn't fit the bill. Chills from the targeted areas trickled into the center of Danny's chest, and had he been an animal he would've hissed protectively. Instead, Danny tore his eyes from the ground and returned the man's glare.

At seeing they were now in the hallway by his peripheral vision, Danny angrily asked, "Where are we going?" No longer feeling emotionally detached but rather pissed. He didn't want to do the man's bidding or be around him for too long, that'd just confirm the position Vlad wanted Danny in.

"Now that you seem to be well enough to walk, I'd like you to do a test for me." He set the hand that had slapped Danny's head back on his shoulder in a firm grip. His fingers dug slightly into Danny's pajama shirt, and a shiver arose too fast for Danny to suppress. Images from his nightmare flitted across the back of his eyes.

"Swell. What am I, a lab-rat?" Danny jabbed, moving his gaze away from Vlad again. It was just like Vlad to pounce a test on him as soon as he seemed well enough.

This slightly offended Vlad and he gave a small, aristocratic frown down at the boy, who didn't see it. "Daniel. These tests aren't for me. They're for you."

"I'm not the one choosing to do them, Vlad." The younger hybrid quipped back. "And it's Danny. Not Daniel." He jolted as Vlad suddenly turned to enter a room with the door left open, the man's hand pulling the unsuspecting boy with him.

"You'll appreciate it when you're older," Vlad said, ignoring Danny's correction. He led Danny to the single item of importance in the room; a medium-sized grey desk with a computer screen built into it. Perched on the top was a contraption that looked suspiciously like a camera, and the desk's surface only had room for a keyboard and mouse. Like the screen, the rest of its components were built-in, making them irremovable.

Danny openly gawked at the subtly strange desk before angrily sputtering, "What the hell is this?" Having known Vlad for nearly a year, he knew not to trust the majority of his electronic devices, no matter how innocent they looked.

"A desk," Vlad answered laconically, not wanting the boy to know what he had planned. He shoved Danny closer and pointed to the cushioned black stool in front of it. "Sit."

Danny dug his socked heels into the ground, insistent on keeping his distance from the device. Since Vlad wasn't keen on telling him what it was, Danny felt obligated to return the favor by refusing to listen. "I've never seen a desk like that." He protested. "Besides, I don't want to take a test; I'm too tired."

Slightly annoyed at Danny's constant need to not follow commands like a good son, Vlad sighed and rubbed his temple. He didn't have all day to deal with Danny's teenage temperament, and he'd waited long enough to get an opportunity for the boy to take this test. "It'll only take fifteen minutes, child, and it doesn't require much thinking. Please sit down. It's the only thing I'll ask you today."

Staring grimly at the device, Danny contemplated whether he wanted to give into Vlad's demands. Obedience wasn't something he wanted to make a habit of, and along with their rival complex, he didn't feel comfortable doing something when he wasn't sure what it was. Also, this room gave him the creeps; it had plain dark blue walls arranged in a square shape, and nothing other than the computer, stool, and a printer. Why would Vlad have an empty room like this in the first place?

On the other hand, if this were the only thing Vlad wanted him to do; after these fifteen minutes were up he'd be free from Vlad's company for the rest of the day, apart from the unavoidable mealtimes. The man would likely be busy sorting out his test results instead of bothering him about other things. And Danny really wanted his alone time.

Having made his decision, he mumbled, "Fine," and sat down on the cushioned stool stiffly. "Let's get this over with."

"Marvelous," Vlad said, reaching into his suit jacket's pocket. He removed a plain, black headband with a small white bead on the top and began putting it horizontally on Danny's head, only to be stopped by a pair of hands that kept the billionaire from lowering it any further.

Danny wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "What are you doing?" Was this some mind control device?

Vlad pried Danny's hands off the headband and impatiently said, "Applying your motion sensors." He placed it above Danny's eyes, so the band fit like a headwrap and the white bead faced forward from his forehead. On the computer screen, where several wide empty rectangles spanned across, a black dot became visible in one of them. Curiously, Danny moved his head, and the black dot followed the movement. He played around with this until Vlad ordered, "Face forward and sit still."

The man reached over and adjusted the camera above the setup until the black dot became centered on the screen. Much to Danny's distaste, Vlad also applied two bands on Danny's shins with the same white beads facing forward until they too, lined up in the boxes; apparently, there was a sensor underneath the desk. With all that complete, Vlad grasped the mouse by the keyboard to click "Next." And two pictures appeared; an eight-sided star on the left and the standard five-sided star on the right.

"These two shapes will appear at random on the screen. Whenever the eight-sided star pops up, press the spacebar." Explained Vlad, pointing to the directions beneath the star that screamed, "PRESS SPACEBAR." As if Danny was incapable of reading without help. "And whenever the five-sided star pops up, don't do anything. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Danny said unenthusiastically, scratching his arm. This test seemed simple and harmless enough, even dull. It will be a long fifteen minutes. He wished he knew what it was measuring, but it appeared Vlad didn't want to disclose that.

"I'll leave you to it then. Click "Start." when you're ready. I'll come back when you're done." And Vlad walked out, closing the door behind to leave Danny to his own devices. However, he wasn't aware that Vlad merely turned invisible and phased back into the room.

Finally. Now that Danny has nearly gotten over his broken hand, Vlad could begin the process of sculpting him. Of course, he still had plenty of tests he wanted to implement besides the one Danny's doing now. But generally, he'd collected enough information to have a physical and educational plan prepared this month—all under Vlad's tutelage. His teaching license would finally be put to good use, rather than the occasional invitation to lead business workshops.

While it was yet another item to add to his already busy life, Vlad didn't mind the extra workload. In fact, he welcomed it like the workaholic he is. More things to do gave him more meaning in life, which Vlad'd gladly take with a grain of salt. He wasn't too worried about conflicting schedules, as he could simply duplicate to complete multiple tasks.

Vlad watched as Danny breathed out rather loudly and continued clicking away at the spacebar, his eyes attentive to the movement on the screen. As simple as the test sounds, it requires a significant amount of focus to complete accurately. The stars only popped up on the screen for a few seconds before going away, and every time you made a mistake—whether it be clicking when you aren't supposed to or too late—the test recorded it. The amount and type of errors made over the span of fifteen minutes would help determine the results.

There was no particular reason as to why he pretended to leave and came back to secretly watch Daniel, other than the fact that he didn't trust the boy. Although he wasn't sure how or what Daniel could do to mess with the test, nevertheless he felt the need to supervise him just in case. Additionally, he wanted to see how much Daniel would move or fidget. While he knew the sensors would pick up the majority of the teen's movements, it was the few things the computer couldn't sense that he wanted to watch; like Daniel's hands.

But had that detail been deemed essential the test would've taken it into account. So mostly it was Vlad's distrust of Daniel.

He wished he could trust Daniel. Well, most parents didn't trust in their teens, but this wasn't a familial kind of distrust. It was more like being unable to rely on a friend or a stranger.

Naturally, Vlad wanted to treat Danny like his child. For them to forget the past and forge a healthy and bright future together as father and son. To be civil and kind and loving to each other like so many other families were. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for him.

But when Danny acts so barbaric and rude, it sends them back to their quarreling, tense past. And even though Vlad wanted to be civil towards the boy, it made him feel as if Daniel didn't deserve his kindness. He was Jack's offspring, after all.

However, Vlad was trying so hard to forget that. Jack's dead. He doesn't matter anymore: what matters is that Daniel is now Vlad's own offspring, there should be no connection to Jack anymore, other than Daniel's respect. The boy was more like Vlad than his parents in that they were both supernatural beings and had their families ripped away in freak accidents. Daniel was also incredibly bright, intelligent, and capable; much like Vlad in his youth. They even shared dark hair (Accounting for Vlad's original hair color), the same thin build, and rather late timing for puberty.

The billionaire took in a deep, silent breath and briefly made his smartwatch visible so he could see the time. Daniel had been taking the test for five minutes now. Ten more to go.

He moved his gaze back towards the child that so often took up his thoughts. Daniel's diamond-like eyes bore into the computer screen, absorbing the blue glow that radiated off of it and falling upon his defined but baby-fat covered jawline. His tousled tresses stuck straight up in a rather severe cowlick, refusing to adhere to the laws of gravity.

Jack's mark on the child was all he could really see right now, apart from the boy's sickly state (that'd have to be fixed…) Maddie's traits, like the boy's lanky, thin build or the way his firm jaw shaped into an elegant and small chin, were cast into the shadow by Jack's loud and overbearing ones. The subject of the test Daniel was taking only further contributed to it.

With themselves stuck in the stupid rut that was their past, it all the more made Vlad want to pummel and beat the Jack out of that boy.

Yet he refrained. Feeding the fire certainly wouldn't solve the problem, it would only confirm their nonmoving rivalrous status. As a father, Vlad needed to rise above Danny in gentlemanliness and maturity, to set an excellent example for Danny to follow. Also, beating your child was a practice frowned upon these days. How times have changed.

Yes, he'd have to continue to tread carefully with this child. To show who's boss and how he wouldn't bend down to Danny's utterly childish games. This would no longer be a primal game of "Who can Beat Up the Other." But instead, a mental game, surrounding Danny's deteriorating state. He'd proved it would take more than a breakdown to get him to cling helplessly to Vlad.

And that's okay. Danny didn't need to see Vlad as a father for them to begin training. However, it was slightly disappointing after getting his hopes up.

Nonetheless, Vlad was a patient man.

No sooner than Danny finished, Vlad strode in and had the boy get up from the stool so he could have easier access to the computer. Undoubtedly he had some post-test procedures to complete.

Thinking he was free, Danny quickly removed the motion sensors from his shins and head, placing them next to Vlad on the desk. Then made a beeline for the door, eager to get his needed alone time, but was stopped verbally by the billionaire.

"Stay here. We're going to look at your results." He ordered, clicking away at the mouse as windows popped up and down. Shortly after, the printer chimed and began to work away. Like most of Vlad's devices, the printer was state of the art; significantly quieter and faster than the one at Casper High and what Danny used to consider home.

Danny groaned in annoyance at being unable to go back to his room and slumped against the wall, arms crossed. He didn't bother to hide the prominent disgust and impatience evident on his face by this slight turn of events. Was his compliance not enough to get the man to leave him alone?

Finished with what he needed to complete, Vlad stood up from the stool and briskly walked towards the printer to pick up the papers it had neatly spewed out, glossing through the pages thoughtfully. He made his way to the door and motioned for Danny to follow, never moving his eyes from the printed test results.

Together, Vlad led them to a nearby living room—or sitting area—however you want to put it, motioning for Danny to sit on the couch across from him. The teenager unceremoniously dropped himself down and allowed the cushions to swallow him and his gloomy attitude up. They felt uncomfortably suffocating instead of blissfully embracing.

Masters continued to finger the mass of information, pausing only to remind Danny to sit like a gentleman and not a hobo. Which Danny disregarded entirely by not bothering to show any sign of having heard the command. Slightly shadowed rivets under his eyes cracked through his seemingly solid act, and a flurry of emotions and childish confliction swam beneath his tough skin—just visible by Vlad's trained and studious eyes.

Vlad let Danny have his moment of rebellion and chose to address what he really wanted to talk about.

"Interesting. My suspicions were correct." A shark of a smile formed at the edge of his sharp lips as he rearranged several papers, done with his overview of the results.

This continued secrecy of Vlad's brushed Danny's aggression, and he perked up slightly from his slouched position, the couch cushions fighting to swallow him back in despite his light weight. "Correct about what, Vlad?" He asked in a rather hostile tone, slightly forced, like all of his other angry retorts. "Why did you make me take that stupid long test?"

"There are longer tests I could make you do if I really wanted." Vlad waved off. "Anyways, what I had you take was the Quotient ADHD test." He set the papers down on the coffee table between them, so they faced Danny, who leaned forward to gain a better view out of curiosity, not respect. "You, my boy, have mild symptoms of inattentiveness-type Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Otherwise known as ADHD or ADD."

Whatever amount of anger left on Danny's face slid off in sheer surprise. He frowned in confusion at the papers, Vlad's sentence diffusing into the air like oil and water. Thick eyebrows mashed together and he picked up the papers to bring them closer to his eyes, surprisingly gentle with them. "Attention D-duh...Deficit...what now?"

"Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder," Vlad repeated simply, crossing his elegantly long legs. It hit Danny that Vlad still wore dress shoes indoors. "But in your case it's ADD. You do know what it is, right? Jack had it."

Danny stared at the papers. The term ADHD/ADD was seldom mentioned under his family's roof—save for Jazz and her psychological rants, which he'd naturally tuned out. Other than that, he'd heard the acronym tossed around school every once in a while through gossip; it usually referred to kids who couldn't sit or be quiet like a civil person. Danny could do both with ease.

"That can't be right," Danny argued, casually throwing the test results back onto the table. In a quiet ruffling of papers, they landed askew. "I don't have ADH...whatever. You're nuts."

"I'll take that as a no, then." He straightened the papers Danny had messed up, a wholesome smile on his face in eagerness to pass on knowledge to his "son."

"ADHD tends to be wrongly portrayed in that people believe it has a set amount of symptoms." The billionaire began to explain. A foreboding feeling washed over Danny that warned of a long mantra ahead. He hoped it wasn't true. "Them being an inability to remain still, quiet, and focused on tasks. Perhaps it is because those traits can be visibly seen by others that many view them as the stereotype. However, ADHD cannot be stereotyped in that it is actually a spectrum, much like autism, and contains both symptoms that can and cannot be seen by others with varying severity. Each person is different in that no two beings with ADHD will share an exact set of similarly-severe symptoms."

Vlad uncrossed his legs and leaned forward as if to further demand more of Danny's unwilling attention. "Although I digress; for medical and communicative purposes, researchers have created three sub-categories—or types—of ADHD. Them being Hyperactivity-type, Inattentiveness-type, and Impulsivity-type. There's even controversy over a fourth type, in which two or all three are combined. Now, Hyperactivity and Impulsivity type ADHD tend to be the most visible, for obvious reasons. But Inattentiveness is much more of an inner struggle, Daniel, and not many people come to realize they have it thanks to there being little-to-no awareness for it."

He paused to see if Daniel was catching on. The boy's expression said he was more interested in scratching his arm than the subject they were discussing. His leg also bounced impatiently, and Danny kept shifting around. But he was making eye contact in the least.

"In fact, it's difficult to diagnose too. I had to reach out to your teachers, which, granted, wasn't the most reliable of sources considering their cluelessness towards your little...hobby." Vlad frowned disapprovingly as he let the word stretch out. "But it was at least something to work with, tied to my own observations of you. They mentioned that you consistently made occasional careless mistakes in your homework and had a habit of daydreaming or becoming easily distracted throughout the year. Which I assume includes the timespan before you acquired powers."

He gave Danny a severe look, his elbows resting on his knees and femininely large hands clasped between the two like a bridge. "Tell me, Daniel. Have you always struggled slightly at school? What were your usual grades before…?" Vlad allowed his sentence to trail off, as they both knew what he was referring to.

Danny peeked up from under his unkempt bangs, a glare shooting through several strands of clean hair that contrasted with his undignified sitting position. "None of your business." Vlad talking to his teachers really rubbed him the wrong way. The man's current position to Danny didn't allow him to reach out as a parent (in Danny's eyes.) But, of course, Vlad considered himself above such "petty" rules.

"It's my business as much as yours. But seeing that you aren't willing to divulge…" He brought up his right hand, and it quickly erupted into pink flames. They subsided to reveal a folder marked, "Transcript," that Vlad had somehow teleported.

Danny's eyebrows raised at the display of powers as Vlad opened the folder and removed several sheets. It wasn't a surprise, per say, he'd seen Vlad teleport numerous times. However, he didn't know that teleporting a single item was possible. He'd be adding that to his list of, "Powers to Learn." If there was one thing he looked forward to in his fights with Vlad, it had to be the free exhibition of power techniques; the man was like a walking dictionary.

Vlad's intense eyes scanned the newly conjured papers. "B average, it seems...and then—oh! A dramatic drop to C average in your first semester of high school."

Danny scowled as all traces of previous excitement disappeared. Being around Vlad was terrible enough, and now he's being judged? "Yippee." He growled sarcastically. "So you found the reason I'm stupid. Can I go now?"

"It doesn't mean you're stupid." Looking up from the papers, Vlad frowned at Danny. It seems the Fentons may have unintentionally hit him too hard over the head about being 'a family of geniuses.' "It just means you don't fit the public school system's mold. Many with ADHD/ADD are extremely smart like Walt Disney, John F. Kennedy, and Albert Einstein. Often it's considered an advantage—excuse me, where do you think you're going?"

Danny had gotten up from the couch and was stalking towards the grand, open doors of the sitting room, "Back to sleep." He grumbled, voice slightly muted by his refusal to turn his head back. Waiting it out didn't seem like an efficient option; Vlad must have wanted to lecture him to death about that stupid disorder. In a heartbeat, Danny would bet that he didn't actually have ADHD and that Vlad's just obsessed with putting labels on everything like the mad scientist he is.

"Up-bup-bup. Manners, Daniel. Say: Vlad, I'm too tired to discuss this right now. May we talk about it some other time?"

"I'mtootiredtodiscussthisrightnowmaywetalkaboutitsomeothertime," Danny mumbled quickly.

"Good boy. You're dismissed." Before the word "dismissed," even passed his lips, Daniel had already run out the room.

Vlad calmly stood up with the test results in hand and walked out too, heading towards his the staircase so he could go down to his lab. With these results, he could complete writing his overview of Danny's ADD, as they were only a small puzzle piece in the complex jigsaw of diagnosing. The majority of it relied on observing the child rather than using questionable tests.

To say the least, Vlad knew what he was doing.

Small tennis shoes slowly touch down on the pavement, one after the other. Trailing dread in each step.

The owner of the shoes was a tired eight-year-old boy, on his way back from school—alone. Chilly San-Francisco air whipped at his unruly dark hair and the nape of his uncovered neck. He suppressed a shiver, brilliant lapis lazuli eyes darkening in emotional detachment. How he wanted to be at home so bad, yet didn't at the same time.

Removing little hands from his backpack straps, he trudged on, wrapping them around his upper body. They grasped at the thin fabric of his worn shirt. Goosebumps prickled upwards.

Up ahead lay a cheery home in appearance, with a well-kept lawn framed by a beautiful garden. The boy smiled as memories arose; mom and he tended to it every day. Just a week ago they planted camellia seeds.

He loved his mom. But his dad?

Now, that's a different story.

Sorry for the slow chapter(s). Things will be picking up in the next chapter, promise.

*sighs* I'm not very proud of this one and I've honestly been contemplating whether I want to really finish this story...idk. Maybe it's the writer's block speaking.

Btw, yeah, this story has been super dark and depressing. But that's because the subject it revolves around—killing your family thanks to a stupid mistake—is somewhat angsty in itself. I want to add funny moments and scenes but if I try it will be forced, and I don't condone that. Don't worry, I have some plot build-up planned towards some funny and uplifting scenes though! But, heh, you know. In due time.