Yo I have no idea what I'm doing but this is the first pompous pep thing I've ever done, and it's a AU to boot. Here goes something.

"Mirror mirror on the wall,
Can you picture me at all?
I could be whatever I want to be…"

Danny Fenton woke up one morning, and was startled out of bed by someone pounding on the other side of the door. His sleepy brain panicked and apparently forgot about the use of any of his limbs for a split second. He landed with a crash of limbs and clothes and the comforter, which had tangled round his legs.

"HEY FEN-TURD, IT'S TIME TO GET UP! Dad says if you're sleeping in you're toast this time, you hear? You've got a lot of work this morning to do before lunch you little shrimp!"

"I'm up! Dash, Dash I said I'm up you can stop hitting on the door!" The boy called up from the floor.

The pounding did stop then, and that surprised Danny. Dash never listened to him. Usually he retaliated worse in fact. Danny was so focused on freeing himself and trying to look where his boots had gone that he didn't hear the conversation that had started in the hall. He also didn't hear the lower, decidedly deadly tone that ended said conversation and caused Dash to leave.

What Danny did notice, was when the knob turned and the door creaked open gently and a tall thin man stepped into the room.

"Really Daniel, again? The second time this month…I thought you set your alarm." The man commented smoothly. He was already dressed for the day in the clothes of a stable worker, long silver hair pulled back out of his face in a way that shouldn't have been as handsome as it was.

Danny went scarlet at the gentle chiding and made more clumsy attempts to get up, get dressed and still look for his boots. He really wasn't a good multitasker at all.

"Vlad! Ah-I did!" He managed to say firmly. "I just, I left the window open, and I guess the temperature dropped or something because, uh…" He had scrambled up by then and was glancing sheepishly over the small bed to look at the clock sitting on his dresser.

"…I guess the frost got to it again." The boy mumbled shyly, rubbing an arm.

Vlad sighed and shook his head, but smiled wanly when Danny glanced blue eyes over to him.

"Hurry down and get breakfast before that oaf eats the plates too. I will make your bed, Little Badger." The man instructed. He bent down and reached behind the door, pulling out Danny's missing boot. He held it up and raised an eyebrow, and Danny blinked.

"How did—wait nevermind, really?"

"That idiot was right, there is more work than usual to be done today. They've over booked the lessons and you need to get the horses ready along with your usual chores. Now, hurry, you'll need all the strength you can get."

Danny nodded as he sat on the bed, pulling on his socks.

"Sweet, thanks Vlad!" Danny light up like the summer sun coming in through his window. He shot by the man, pulling on his shirt and grabbing his boot. He'd hop down the stairs of the farm house and into the kitchen like that, Vlad knew. He decided against watching, for fear of giving himself a heart attack.

But then, that was nothing new. Daniel had that effect on him.

As Danny scrambled downstairs to make it in time for breakfast, the silver haired man did as he'd said, closing the door before doing so though. He smoothed the worm comforter down and finally picked up the alarm on the little wooden bedside table.

It was ice cold to the touch. A thin sheen of frost coated its side and had no doubt gotten into the backing. Vlad held it to his ear, and shook it. No gears could be heard, no life at all. But there was a problem with Danny's simple assumption. The chill was covering the side that faced the boy's bed, right by his pillow where his head lay at night.

"Yes, you were right Your Highness." Vlad spoke softly to himself as he shook his head.

"The frost did indeed get to it. And you. This isn't good at all." The man sighed heavily and took the clock with him to dispose of. No one else could see this.

A part of Vlad had hoped this day wouldn't come. The other part was relived it did, and all of him was equally apprehensive about it.

Danny meanwhile, had only managed to get an egg, a piece of bacon and thankfully a slice of toast at the breakfast table. Still, he couldn't complain, because it was good food and Mrs. Baxter was an amazing cook and a kinder woman than the rest of the family she belonged to. Well, Mr. Baxter wasn't the worst, he supposed. There were meaner bosses, and anyway the Baxter family was giving him and Vlad board in exchange for running the stable they owned.

"Get along boy, we've got lessons coming at ten, eleven and twelve thirty, after lunch." Mr. Baxter started the second Danny's boots hit the linoleum.

"Yessir." Danny nodded listening to the words and committing which horses he had to get ready.

"And keep that dog out of the arena, or it's off to the pound with it."

Danny blushed when the reprimand came, biting his lip and nodding. Cujo, the mangy German shepherd that Danny had found one day in the back field when he was fixing a fence. Smart as a whip but playful as a puppy, Danny sometimes had the strange feeling the dog had been looking for him but that was impossible, wasn't it? Either way, he'd been unable to shake the dog, and any attempts to send it away caused it to come back, and no one answered the Lost Dog ad Dash had desperately put up in hopes to get the mutt out of the barn.

"Oh, you know that dog's been a great help with the rats since he showed up, honey." Mrs. Baxter walked over from the stove at that moment, an older woman who loved her family but understood her husband's want for business and her son's attitude.

"Besides dear, its Danny's dog and it keeps finding its way back to him every time." Mrs. Baxter was the kind of person Danny hoped his mother had been like, if he had one. She was the only one in the family who didn't make him feel like a complete waste of space. Sometimes thought she had a secret smile in the corner of her mouth that made Danny think she knew something no one else did, except maybe Vlad.

Mr. Baxter grunted and went back to his own breakfast.

At that point Mrs. Baxter set some jam down before him for his toast, and Danny thanked her. He nibbled on his toast as Dash and his father talked about last night spots game they'd caught on tv, and Danny thought. He thought about the work he had to do today, the cleaning and grooming and mucking.

He thought for a moment about a dream he'd had last night. He could almost remember it for once, but it was thick beyond the fog of sleep and distraction. Even closing his eyes wouldn't get the dream back. They slipped through his fingers like fish and darted every attempt he made to imagine them. Though if Danny was going to be truly honest sometimes those dreams felt more like a memory. But on the other hand, there was no one that was possible, he'd never lived in a castle and he certainly never had anyone other than Vlad as his friend. He didn't know any of the faces in his dreams, even if they were getting more and more frequent lately.

There was always Vlad though.

Vlad Masters, who'd taken care of him, brought him to the stables where he was manager and had coaxed the Baxters into giving him a job. And if Danny takes a moment longer, he can think back to when he woke up in the hospital, in a white sterile room where he met the silver-haired man and who'd spoken to him soothingly, promised he was fine. Told him his name and filled in the blanks that he could of Danny's memory.

Despite the uncertainty of his past and the many questions he had circling around in his mind; Danny had lived at the Baxter stables for almost three months already. Besides, like Vlad had said in the beginning, to answers Danny's questions about where his family was, if he had any, or where his home was, would take time and money. Money that they simply did not have, Danny knew. So he tried to be grateful, and worked at the stable the best he could. Vlad's presence was a constant source of comfort for the boy, and it helped, even if he did cause some curious butterflies in his stomach Danny was dutifully trying to ignore.

Danny had after some trepidation decided to trust him. Besides Vlad's words and the ring on the chain around his neck, he had nothing else.

Right, that ring…

Danny finished his orange juice and collected his plates and utensils, taking them to the sink. Mrs. Baxter said he didn't have to do them, but smiled warmly at him and called him a gentlemen when he did anyway. This morning as he was drying his fork he took a moment to reach his hand down the front of his shirt and pull the chain up until the small band appeared from between his chest and shirt.

Still cold. It was always cold, like ice, no matter how tight Danny grasped it in his warm hands or how long he kept it against his heartbeat. Aside from the temperature it was just fake gold, Danny had been told. He'd asked Vlad about it but for once the man hadn't been able to give him an answer, but asked him to hang on to it.

'I found it with you, little badger, in the woods. I'd hang on to it if I were you…it could be important.'

Danny recalled the words and shook his head, sighing.

No, it was probably just costume jewelry.

Nothing about him was important, after all.

Danny headed out to the stables in the back of the old farmhouse, sighing quietly as he took in the fresh air of the morning. He had only been a few minutes late, so the morning sun was only just getting into the still purple, faded blueish sky. The boy paused, standing before the stable doors as he looked out into the fields and slopping valley far behind the pastures. Beyond the last fenced in area was the woods, thick and looming even from here. This morning they looked particularly foreboding, but perhaps Danny's mind was playing tricks on him. Was he seeing things, in the deep of the woods, fading in and out of the sluggish fog?

It was then Danny was tackled to the ground, and landed heavily on his back. With the weight came excited yipping and a wet tongue slapping ever bit of his face the excited dog could reach.

"Gyah—ick, oh—C-Cujo! Cujo!" Danny broke out into laughter, used to the dog's loving dive bombing. He had no idea how Cujo was as strong as he was though, for Heaven's sake. The dog was a train wreck of power but at least he meant well. Or at least, he looked like he meant well.

"Off, off! You little goofball," Danny laughed, hauling the gangly puppy off his chest and setting him on the ground. He quickly clambered to his feet, chuckling as the puppy ran in excited circles around him, his black collar and tag jingling as he followed his master's boots into the stable.

Cujo snuffled along the ground as Danny pulled horses one by one. He spent time brushing, and tacking up, and only had to lead them out to the arena for the trail riders for that day. There was already a few people there, and Danny offered a shy smile to them as he handed over reins and helmets.

They sort of acknowledged him, but it was little more than half smiles with no teeth, or vacant nods as they listened to Mr. Baxter speaking. Danny sighed, not sure what he was expecting. He was the stable boy; his job was little more than bring the horses and take away the horses. Sometimes he wished he could lead a trail ride but had been denied so much he'd stopped asking.

The horses squared away, and the trail riders setting off through the pastures that would take them back into the woods, Danny went back into the tack room. Grabbing a saddle that he intended to strip and clean, he stopped in his tracks when a cold chill washed over him.

What was…?

He gasped, hardly noticing a thin white cloud of his own breath as he spun, trying to track the moving shadow in the corners. Danny cried out, eyes widening as he saw something dart under a box, possibly behind it.

Something didn't feel right. Whatever it was moving around the room was trying to remain unseen, and it was so creepy and vile feeling Danny clutched the saddle tighter and fought the urge to bolt. Something went 'bump' and 'shhhhk' under the box and Danny's hair stood on end so bad he was afraid they'd leave his skin entirely.

A second later Cujo was loping into the room, barking and growling up a storm. He shot past by Danny, collided with the crate and scrambled behind it, tail and butt still visible as he wedged himself between wall and box. There was more bumping and scratching and small little shrieks, but maybe Danny was imaging it?

"Cujo? Cujo!" Worried when he heard the dog yelp amongst his snarls and scrabbling, Danny dropped the saddle and grabbed hold of the pup, wrenching him out. Cujo resisted, clawing and biting something until finally Danny yanked him free.

The dog howled in his grip, teeth bared, and struggled for only a second until his nose wiggled and he turned to look at the Danny.

The dog blinked at him. Danny, confused as all get out, blinked back. Suddenly Cujo relaxed, tail wagging so hard it was hitting Danny's side, and the puppy's ears perked. When Danny only kept staring, the pup barked and began attacking Danny's face with his tongue, and it was like there hadn't been anything in the tack room at all.

Danny set the dog down and debated checking under the crate for whatever it is that Cujo had gone after.

"It was…probably just a rat, right buddy?"

Cujo woofed brightly at him, tail moving like a sail.

Danny shot the dog a small smile, and mustered up his courage. But upon dragging the crate from its spot, he found nothing of great interest. There was nothing there at all. Except dust and dirt.

"It, er, was just my mind playing tricks on me then. Yeah, that was it. Had to be." Cujo barked again and chased his tail. Taking a few deep breaths, and noting the room did feel less chilly, Danny grabbed the fallen saddle and hoisted it into his arms. He left the tack room to clean it though, deciding he needed to do this job in the sun to go it properly.

And not because he was afraid to go into the tack room.

Thankfully, nothing out of ordinary happened. At least, not until just before dinner. The sun was thinking about setting, and was a glowing ball of orange fire as it headed lazily toward the mountain tops in the west. All the trails were done for the day, the woods being too thick for a human to admire, and too eerie for a horse to concentrate on walking and not spooking.

There were rumors the woods were haunted, and the Baxter Stables made a killing in the month of October. Vlad had often scolded Danny for listening to those tales though, so Danny didn't mention the concept of ghosts much. Just thought, and wondered.

Right now though, it was late August, and it was hot and the heat hung in the air like a blanket. As he was sweeping out the walkway, Danny vaguely hoped there'd be a thunderstorm tonight. At least some rain to cool everything, not to mention Mrs. Baxter let Cujo sleep with Danny when they had dangerous weather.

It was then his boss approached him, without so much as a hello.

"One of the horses threw a shoe boy, out on the trails. I need you to go find it."

"Ah…" Danny froze, feeling very much like a deer caught in the headlights. He was supposed to go out, all by himself? But the sun was almost down! And the woods were…maybe…slightly possibly haunted.

Suddenly, as if by magic, Vlad appeared at his left side. He'd walked right up behind him, and the boy hadn't even noticed or heard anything, jeez. Danny jumped a mile when he spoke, and clutched the broom handle sheepishly as he listened to Vlad all but leap to his defense.

"Mr. Baxter, you don't happen to know just where on the trail the shoe went, did you? It would probably be good of Daniel to know before he went looking on that long path." At Baster's half glare at Vlad, the man volleyed one of his own, which Danny thought was a much better sneer than their bosses. But he wasn't about to say that little opinion out loud.

"A land mark. Anything. Throw the boy a bone." Vlad prompted, a hint of sarcasm in his words. Danny had to think about something sad to stop his laughter.

"Somewhere on the south trail, just check there first." Mr. Baxter grunted, and strode away towards the house, leaving Danny and Vlad.

Vlad sighed, turning to the boy.

"I'm not sure I like you going that far into the woods at this time of night, Little Badger."

Danny grinned and brushed the last of the straw away.

"I thought you said there was no such thing as ghosts."

"I said there was no such things as ghosts here." Vlad raised a haughty eyebrow, clearly trying to save face. It didn't work, Danny leaned on his tool and smiled like the little shit he was.

"Aw. You're worried about me, that's really sweet, fruitloop." Danny had called him that with intent to insult, back when he'd first woken up to a strange man leaning over him trying to tell him things. At the time Danny had been nothing more than a scared, lost little boy, and who could blame him?

The nickname had just sort of…stuck. Danny wasn't sure why. It felt right, like Vlad's nickname did for him. Come to think of it, there was nothing Danny felt more sure about than the wiry man standing before him. If Danny had only one thing, it was the comfort of Vlad, even if he was a bit pompous and tended to worry over him too much. At least he had Vlad as a constant.

Vlad clucked his tongue reproachfully at the nickname. "You know, I was going to come with you Little Badger, up until that little remark. Now you can go get lost in the woods on your own. Perhaps you'll be eaten by a bear." Vlad commented idly.

"Yeah, right. As if I'd get lost." Danny considered something for a moment. "Or you'd ever let me get lost. You're a total mother hen, Vladdy."

"Well, someone has to look out for your sorry ass, Daniel."

Despite the tone, his words stung deeper than Vlad intended. Danny blinked at the harsh reality of that statement and glanced away. Sensing his distress, Vlad immediately looked sorry.

"Ah….forgive me, Little Badger. I was only joking."

"It's alright."

"Which means it's not." The silver-haired man sighed heavily and drew the boy close when he saw the boy's head hang.

Danny took a moment, but then he hugged back with fervor, almost clutching briefly. He squeezed Vlad once, listening to the older man's soft assurances and did let the words go.

"Every moment I spend with you is a pleasure, you know that. I will never abandon you."

"…Y-you're being a sap again. And a fruitloop."

"Alas, I suppose I am."

Danny was infinitely grateful for it though.

The forest that sprawled behind the back pastures was no more a forest park than a bandit was a good house sitter. The deep woods were painted to Danny (usually by Dash, who spared no horrific detail of the spooky atmosphere of the woods) as a place that was only tolerable by its scenic trails the horses went through. The place was all well and good as a tourist trap, and the Baxters were only too happy to take paying riders through the trails while regaling them with old legends of ghosts and other creepy things that crawled in the undergrowth. The almost black green and yellowed moss was spongy and odd. Going off the dirt and stone path was inadvisable, as a horse or human could twist an ankle or get hopelessly lost in the thick of the trees. The trees themselves had a nasty habit of dropping branches or nuts in odd places, causing sounds that spooked the horses as much as they did the eager to be scared riders.

Danny knew for a fact the Baxters didn't believe a lick of half of what they told to customers, but this business, according to Mr. Baxter, wasn't about the truth. According to Vlad, the woods out back were and as deep and deadly as they were painted to be. He'd even gone so far as to say there were scarier things about there, and that Danny would be wise to thank his lucky stars the woods was the most of their problems.

On some level, the boy agreed with his friend. But as he neared the first trail opening and stood before it, he began thinking something entirely different. He took one look at the thin birches cowering over the path from the other darker, thicker trees, and the thick tangly brush and decided Vlad had been lying through his teeth. The forest looked, and for all intense purposes felt, as bad as Dash and others had said.

Danny wasn't convinced that stupid horseshoe was as valuable as Mr. Baxter had insisted. But how he could back now? At best, Dash would never let him live it down. And at worst, Vlad would be caught in the crossfire's and most likely be made to go in Danny's place to search for the lost shoe. Danny could live with Dash's endless teasing, but he couldn't in good conscience put his protector through such an inconvenience, nor live with Vlad being disappointed in him. Not after all Vlad had done for him.

Besides, he had brought Cujo. (As if he could shake the dog from his heels ever.) So all squirrels and moving shadows that may or may not have existed better be ware.

Against his better judgment, young Danny trudged into the woods, following the trail. He had gone maybe ten feet before he felt like he'd been swallowed up. Oblivious, Cujo padded at his side, ears and tongue flapping as if this were a walk in a bright light park. No squirrels rustled, no birds sang. The forest was still, as if something were holding its breath and watching him as he moved through it. He brushed that thought immediately away, there was no need to scare himself, especially when Dash was so eager to do it. Danny kept an eye out for the missing shoe, comforted by the fact it couldn't have dropped that far off the trail. It was probably sitting in the middle of the path and Danny would be able to scoop it up and high tail out of here.

Sunlight, dying and red, filtered through the leaves above. At least, it gave it its best effort and was rewarded by managing to freckle the ground in a few places. In another setting, it would be appreciated, perhaps even pretty. But to Danny, it just seemed like something was choking out the light, and casting the forest and most of its inhabitants in a gloomy murk.

Graveyards had more life than this forest, for Heaven's sake.

A barking jerked Danny from his thoughts. He looked down, halting his walking. Cujo gazed up at him, a stick lodged between his jaws. When Danny met his eyes, his tail wagged hopefully.

"Pfft. No, we're looking for a horseshoe, Cujo. Horseshoe."

The puppy cocked it's head, ears pricking as Danny spoke. Danny leaned down, ruffling the dog fur on his head and giving a half smile.

"Can you help me look buddy?"

The pup stared at him for a beat, looking every inch the clueless, confused dog. But then he set the stick down and trotted away, nose the ground and sniffing. A few moments later, he decided to chase a light beam, and wandered away on a whim. Danny shook his head fondly and straightened up, following the dog halfheartedly as he searched the forest floor too.

Danny was on his hands and knees trying to peer under a hopeful looking cluster of shrubs when a dull clank sounded to his left. He lifted his head, turning to stare at Cujo, and then at the horseshoe he'd dropped by the boy's boney hand.

The puppy's tongue was lolling and he was getting droll everywhere, but Danny was too shocked and excited to care. Danny thought, not for the first time, that Cujo was simply not like other dogs.

"Cujo!" Danny cried sitting up on a kneeling position. "I can't believe—where did you—oh, c'mere you goof!" Danny laughed as he picked up both shoe and dog, the latter trying to cheerfully give him a tongue bath. Too delighted with his task being completed in only twenty or so minutes, Danny let Cujo do whatever he wanted for a bit, before he set him down gently but firmly.

"C'mon Cujo, let's head back." Danny grinned, making a mental note to give the dog an extra helping of his kibble. He held the horseshoe in his hand, determined to not let go of it until he could put it triumphantly in Mr. Baxter's meaty hand. Danny was so relieved he felt giddy, glad for once that something was going right in his life! That it had all gone off without a hitch.

And that's when the wind picked up.

That's also when Danny felt strangely freezing again, as a chilling sensation crawled up his skin and clutched as his spine with icy fingers. He gasped, pulling his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to rub the goose bumps off his thin arms, even as he heard something big coming through the brush at him, from a particular shady cluster of trees. It was cast in shadow, figure only partially seen, but Danny did see the glowing green eyes boring into his. They were thin, slitted and hungry, and served to terrify the young man more.

Even as his master flinched, Cujo lowered on his front paws and growled, low in his throat. It sounded much too deep to belong to the young little puppy, but Danny didn't notice that. All he noticed was the huge shape swinging down at him, and he realized it was aiming for him. Instincts kicked his body into gear, and Danny threw himself into a clumsy roll, just avoiding being grasped by…something big.

"H-hey!" The tumble had hurt, but he forced himself up and turned in time to see Cujo's small little body leap at the hidden figure. Despite the dog's small stature, they both went rolling, and Danny thought he heard a grunt from whatever it was Cujo had tackled.

"Cujo!" His fear for himself turned into fear for his dog, and Danny scrambled clumsily to his feet, moving towards where he'd last seen his dog vanish.

There was growling and barking, and it sounded so much bigger than usual, as did the shapes rolling and colliding in the distance. What was that big thing fighting with Cujo and his would be attacker? He couldn't even see the little dog anymore. Danny gracefully slipped on some moss, losing their position as he landed on his butt hard. He groaned, fumbling for the horseshoe and trying to find the fight in the dark of the forest.

"C-Cujo! Here boy! Come back!" He tried shouting, realizing his mistake when he heard something on two feet coming toward him. It wasn't Cujo, and he had just given away his position. A position that was easy to trump, what with him sitting on the slippery moss and entirely exposed, lovely.

"W-what do you want with me!? L-leave me alone!" Danny tried, all but crab walking back.

His heart beat wildly in his chest, sending a rushing through his ears as he watched the form with pale green eyes and fiery hair stalking toward him. Danny could only whimper, a dozen thoughts racing through his mind. Most of them involved wishing for Vlad.

Everything seemed to come to a standstill though, when a fourth figure lunged from the ground up. It solidified, but remained floating a good six inches from the leaf litter, a cape fluttering behind it from an unknown breeze. Danny froze, the other person froze, he didn't even hear Cujo anymore. The cold came back, and Danny forgot how to breathe for a moment. This person was tall, they towered it seemed.

Completely hidden from view, Danny couldn't see the metallic figure anymore. He could see whoever it was standing before him, spine straight. The cape hid his back and shoulders and torso, but not his black boots or even blacker hair, pointed into arcs that resembled a devil's horns. Danny didn't know whether to scream, run, or both. So he settled for lying there like a complete idiot and staring at what was going on before him.

"You're outnumbered, and you know that. Unless you'd like to try against those odds, I suggest you leave. Now." Came a deep, oil slick voice from the caped figure. It was tight and dark, and he (for the voice was definitely male) spoke with the tone that suggested he was someone who had his commands obeyed so often he didn't need to shout them anymore. Whoever this person was, they were used to being obeyed, and the tone was a dark as it was cruel and cold.

There was a growl of sheer defiance presumably from Danny's first attacker.

"This isn't over, and you know that, Plasmius." The voice seethed, this one male as well. "You can't protect the brat forever."

"Try me." Came a spat.

Danny hardly registered the words, they glossed over in his mind as he reeled to understand the situation. Distantly, he thought he heard Cujo's collar tinkling as the dog moved. But it sounded far away, and Danny wondered if Cujo was behind the pale eyed monster, meaning they were trapped, while Danny was more or less…protected. Protected?

Were they protecting him?

Cujo he understood. But this newcomer…

There was something, a silky sound in the air, a noise Danny couldn't quite place. But it sounded familiar. His first instinct was that someone had left, vanishing like a ghost into the—

A ghost.

Oh, god.

"W-who…who are you?" Danny shivered, watching his apparent rescuer land on the forest floor and turn with an elegant swish of his cape. Danny's blue eyes widened as he was given his first look at the face of the man, and he almost wished he hadn't been. Danny's jaw dropped.

The hair was the same as the back, but the skin was a deathly blue, and sunken in like a slowly decomposing flesh. It looked too smooth to be dead, but was the color nonetheless. The blazing red eyes that stared down into him, pupiless and all seeing, were lowered as if the ghost was very bored by this whole situation. His entire body was engulfed in a soft white glow, casting them just a bit more light, even as the sun was falling. An eyebrow arched, the calculating gaze on him that was softening to something that didn't quite match the harsh tone he'd used earlier.

He still looked creepy. But not…angry. He looked almost worried, to be honest. Danny didn't understand why.

He didn't answer Danny's question, but Danny didn't notice anymore. He was too busy staring at the elegant clothes and folded arms. The posh, arrogant body language of the man was nothing at all like the hulking, savage form of the first ghost, so maybe this one…wasn't so bad? Or at least, if he wanted to attack him, he certainly would have done it by now. Right? Danny swallowed nervously. His gaze tore from the ghost, reluctantly, but was greeted by the sight of a huge hulking green monster. It looked vaguely dog like. As it lumbered a few steps closer to the ghost's back, something glowing was falling from its slobbering jaws as its beady red eyes roamed restlessly. When its eyes fell on Danny, something wagged behind it. The giant green beast was panting.

A spiked collar on its neck tinkled gently.

Suddenly a black hand waved before his face. Danny coughed, raising an arm as he tried to wave the sparkling dust cloud away, but it was no use. He'd breathed it in and seconds later felt strangely weak and sleepy. As he slowly toppled backwards into the soft moss on the floor, the dark leaves fluttered above him in a cool breeze. He felt himself lifted against a chest and into arms, and couldn't find a voice to protest or even make his body do much of anything. He was awake long enough to just make out that voice again. This time it matched the softer expression, for it was low and gentle.

"Everything's alright. Just rest now…this…"

And the final words he heard, rather soothing as Danny's eyes slipped shut.

"This is only a dream."

Danny was inclined to believe it. He had to be, because the dreams he had that followed the first one had no basis more reliable than a wandering wisp of a shadow. These strange dreams melted into a honey golden glaze of flying above the same forest that had just terrified him, while the sun set beside them. Something, maybe a bell, tinkled as a green shape flew alongside. Perhaps it was a dragon. Dragons could fly. Danny heard howls, and the low rumble of his savor, but they soon faded into the back of his mind, like thunder rolling over a distant hill. A cooling breeze brushed his messy hair, but not too cooling, as it was punctured by warm arms holding him secure and safe.

But it was only a dream.

When Danny awoke, he didn't feel particularly different. His mouth felt a little fuzzy, and he wondered humorlessly if there were mushrooms growing on the back of his tongue. He cracked open tired powder blue eyes, because he had felt a hand under his bangs and pressed against his forehead. He wanted to know how it was, but he already had an inkling. There was only one person who touched him that tenderly, and Danny felt a rush of affection for the man leaning over him worriedly.

"…Vlad?" Danny rasped.

"Are you alright Little Badger? You gave me quite a fright there." Smiling, Vlad removed his hand, but not before a fond brush though Danny's bangs.

"I…what?" Danny managed, voice still thick with sleep as he sat up with help from Vlad. "What happened? I, the forest…horseshoe…Cujo?"

A string of words that would confuse almost anyone else. Vlad was rather used to Danny's rambles, and they both knew the reason Danny had gone into the forest.

"I found you unconscious outside the forest Daniel, yes. Thanks to that mutts incessant barking he chased whatever scared you so very far away, I imagine." Vlad wasn't particularly fond of Cujo, but Danny wasn't worried. Vlad didn't really like anyone or anything, except for him. And Cujo did tend to track muddy paws all over Vlad's quarters adjacent to the tack room. Now though, he sounded rather grateful about the dog's presence, and very relieved.

"You had the horseshoe at least, and Cujo is down in the barn asleep in the hay, per usual."

Danny offered a sheepish smile, taking the glass of water offered to him. As he drank it, he noticed he was back in his room in the Baxter home, Vlad sitting in a chair at his side. It was nighttime, a mopey dripping candle was the only light in the room. Danny guessed it must be after 10pm, because after 10pm you weren't allowed to use electricity in the house unless for emergencies. Candles of course, were just fine, even if did make eerie, throwing shadows that unsettled the boy's stomach.

And after whatever it was that happened in the woods, Danny's stomach was more than a little upset. He shook his head in confusion and rubbed his head, it still felt heavy.

"I, something happened in the forest, I think. There was this monster…thing…it was metal but its hair was green Vlad, and so were its eyes a-and there was another one! Two actually!"

"Daniel, don't be ridiculous. It was probably a trick of the light, Little Badger. Besides," He went on firmly when Danny opened his mouth, and a critical look from Vlad made the boy close it, "You are safe now. Nothing will hurt you. Nothing can get you s—"

"So long as you're here." Danny recited the words, giving a fond eye roll. But they did make him feel better. They were the first words Danny had heard after waking up from The Accident. Vlad took the empty glass from his hands and set it on the bedside table.

"Exactly." Vlad stood up, drawing the worn comforter up over the boy. Danny scotched obediently back down into a lying position, and Vlad laid the blankets over him.

"It is late, and there will no doubt, be more work tomorrow. Try to get some rest Daniel, and put that forest out of your mind. There is no such thing as ghosts here."

"Yeah…" Danny sighed softly. "I guess."

"Very good." A warm hand brushed his hair once more, and Danny gave a sleepy smile at the gentle gesture from the normally arrogant older man.

"Night, fruitloop." Danny's smile widened when he heard a derisive snort.

"Good night, little badger."

Vlad snuffed the candle and left the room. Only a bit later did Danny finally fall asleep. Thankfully, he did not dream.

There was someone waiting for him when he walked into the barn.

Vlad knew it, could sense the other specter. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he narrowed his eyes as he stopped in the dark hallway. He chose not to enter just yet, and there was a chance, slim though it was, he hadn't been spotted. In a ghastly ring of black light he changed forms, years of instinct that had kept him alive made him do it. Besides, he didn't like being human, even if he was half human. He was susceptible to so many things, as much as his precious charge was. Feeling much better now that he was his old self, all dark and vampiric looking, the ghost paused to fix his cape. Yes, much better.

He slunk into the room, considering to simply annihilate whoever it was—but stopped short when he heard the ticking of a clock. Lovely. Just what he needed. The end to a perfect day.

"…I do not have the time or patience for another one of our 'talks' Clockwork." Plasmius hissed through sharp canines as he strutted into his room. The nerve of the ghost, encroaching on his territory. Well, it wasn't his but—ugh. Old habits and dying hard and all that. Vlad made a mental note that he did not have any territory anymore, no possessions. Except, of course, the boy sleeping safely up in the house.

The ghost turned to gaze at him.

"But you had the time to nearly let the Prince fall into Dark's clutches."

"And I was supposed to know Skulker was hunting him? Exactly who do I reach the Ghost Zone, o mighty Time Traveler," Vlad voice dripped with anger and sarcasm as he eyed Clockwork.

"Besides, he didn't get the boy." Vlad had to make that point, if only to reassure himself.

"Barely." Clockwork snorted, and that did manage to annoy Vlad. Danny's wellbeing being threatened had that effect on him.

There was the feeling of importance between the both of them, each trying to outshine the other. It was a bit like two old mountains meeting each other. Each was great its own right, and each expected to be respected or feared like they always were. They bowed to no one. The problem was neither one of them was about to give the other the satisfaction of showing any of that. No one had ever said anything about what would happen when two immovable forces meet each other. To be honest, the only thing that bound them to speak at all and suffer the other's existence was currently curled up and dozing in his bed, safe this chilly summer night.

So, Plasmius and Clockwork were at a stalemate.

It was broken when they both turned to the doorway, where they heard nails clicking. There was a strange shifting sound of fur and muscles and bones rendering and reforming. A moment later a deep growl rose, it shook the walls as Cujo stuck his now massive box like head through the door. His hackles were raised as he glared at Clockwork, and Vlad decided the mutt wasn't all that bad.

Clockwork on the other hand, didn't even sort of look amused. He looked back to Vlad, pointing at the huge ghost hound.

"Thanks to the Prince's hound you were saved. I don't foresee another close call ending in your favor again, you know. Someone of your brains…You really should have counted on Dark hiring the Zone's greatest hunter in attempt to snuff out the last heir." Clockwork waved a hand and the massive Cujo snarled but, as he couldn't fit through the doorway at his current size, had to live with making half hearted swipes at the suddenly ancient looking ghost.

"If you've only come here to tell me of what's not going to happen, I could do with a little less of your nutshelling. It's rude, you know." Plasmius sniffed, swiftly changing back into his human form. He was still tried from changing before, but Skulker didn't need to know how weakened he was now, so far from the Ghost Zone. He could hold his original form for maybe three hours at the most.

"Is that all you came for?" He spat, deciding to organize papers on his desk. Perhaps if he ignored Clockwork, the insufferable twit would leave sooner.

"That and, one other thing."

Vlad spared the Time Keeper a look over his shoulder from where he stood at his desk, to show he had some of his attention. Cujo was still snarling threateningly, the noise a deadly backdrop to Clockwork's quiet, even words.

"The Shield is weakening." Four words that sent Vlad rounding on him, his eyes blazing red with fury and, ah yes. There it was. Fear. An alien emotion on a once otherwise bored man. A bit like a rat discovering it's been trapped into a corner, if you asked Clockwork.

"What?!" Vlad looked like he intended to start a fight with the other ghost right there and now, simply to get out a little anger. Despite this dangerous force three feet from him, and another outside the door, Clockwork calmly checked one of his many pocket watches.

"It won't be long before it cracks and the boy's powers return to him. I know you've noticed the signs."

Vlad thought of the frost covering the alarm clock, the way the boy shivered in his sleep when ghosts were near, and said nothing.

"You knew we couldn't hold it off forever. As great as his parents sacrifice was…"

"No. but I had hoped..." Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose, voice taking on an empty, hopeless tone. "That we'd have a little more time…"

Clockwork grinned faintly.

"Ah. But then, that's what everyone wants, Sir Plasmius. A little more time."

One the next tick from a moving hand, Clockwork whirled and vanished into thin air. Upon the intruder's sudden absence, Cujo stopped growling. The hulking beast sat on his rump, scratched behind his ear, and turned back into a small gangly puppy. He padded away, and it was like nothing had ever disturbed the night on the sleepy farm at all. Vlad remained still, staring his desk. A moment later he roared and flung the papers away, watching them flutter to the floor like slain butterflies. The outburst did nothing to settle his growing anger, and he scowled, heading for some shadows.

He had known of course, they were running out of time. He'd just hoped, for once, he'd been wrong.