With lal-nila-syrin's permission, I am posting her addition to the story here. There's a link to the tumblr post it came from on my profile if you want to see it in its natural habitat.

But just to clarify: this chapter is written by lal-nila-syrin, not me. And I don't think either of us plans on continuing it so for now it is complete unless someone else would like to continue from here, which they are more than welcome to do. I'd link it or even post it here as a next chapter if you didn't want to post it separately.

"Vlad… what are you talking about?" Danny breathed, not daring much more than the slight movement of his lips, "What is it?"

Vlad's eyes were narrow as he let his gaze fall to the floor. The boy really didn't know what was going on, did he?

"It… the voice. Those days when it won't leave you alone." Vlad whispered hoarsely, slowly putting aside his glass—his hands were trembling and he couldn't keep a firm grip of it anyway. He pushed himself up slowly, using the armrests of his previous seat to steady himself.

"Wait, what?" Danny's eyebrows knit together in utter confusion. "…What voice, Vlad?"

Vlad lifted his head, his eyes widened to the size of saucers, a gasp stuck halfway out of his throat. "The voice—the one in your head. The one you can't ignore because it's in your head." He staggered forward, his large hands gripping the white-haired teenager's shoulders frantically. The boy flinched. "Y—you mean to tell me that… you don't have one?"

His voice was incredulous… and desperate. Not wanting to believe he was alone in this. Not wanting to believe he was the only one who heard a voice. Not when Danny was the only other half-ghost in existence.

Danny slowly shook his head, not phasing out of Vlad's too-tight grip in fear that the man would fall without Danny there to balance him.

Even Vlad's eyes trembled. And Danny was starting to get scared too—he had never seen Vlad like this, and it was frightening. And Vlad had mentioned… this voice, whatever it was, was not something he could refuse or deny.

"You… really don't have one."

Sadness penetrated the air between them, and his grip loosened as he stepped back, collapsing once more into his chair. Though Danny knew Vlad was trying to hide it, there was a sense of loss and hopelessness emanating from that one sentence—it was the feeling of defeat and complete loneliness. Vlad had realized that despite that they were half-ghosts, they were different.

Danny stared up at him, lively electric green eyes meeting dead steel blue, unsure what to say or do to comfort him. After a minute, Danny finally spoke, "What does it say?"

"…"

Vlad didn't need Danny to specify to know what he was asking. But he was hesitant—to repeat those thoughts… would they be his own, or would it be the voice finally taking over? He could never be sure anymore, the line between them was so blurred.

After a long, internal struggle, he answered, "Plasmius," he took a deep breath before continuing in a strained voice, "I was okay with the stealing. And I believed it when it said I should kill Jack. But Madeline… and you… and everything else… sometimes that 'if I can't have it no one can' mentality doesn't seem like me."

"Isn't Plasmius… you?" Danny tilted his head, shifting forms and reverting back to human—his feet touched the ground lightly, and he stepped up to Vlad, pulling the chair's ottoman toward him and sitting down on it.

Vlad shuddered and dropped his gaze, "Maybe. I don't know anymore. At first I thought it was, but after twenty years… its voice has gotten stronger, and it's definitely not me anymore."

Danny had a hard time imagining any other Vlad—even if there was a difference between Vlad and Plasmius, they didn't seem all that different.

"In the beginning, all I wanted was a family. What it wants is the world… ultimate power… some sort of revenge or payback… and at some point it convinced me it was what I wanted too, but… now I can't tell if it's still its wish or if some of it's mine. And it uses that against me. It tries to urge me to—to destroy… everything. To hate everything, for all the wrong the world has done to me—to it—to us—I'm not even sure anymore. To trample the people who made us powerless."

Danny stared, and Vlad looked up tiredly, his voice shaking but trying to remain stoic and failing. "Sometimes I hear it telling me that it would be better if I wasn't just a half ghost. That I would be more powerful if I was…"

The implication made Danny's eyes widen.

"You… really don't understand, do you." Vlad shook his head, gripping his armrests tight, "Or maybe you just haven't heard it yet. It probably never does seem like it's not you at first… it seems like a drumbeat, nothing more than an extra, painful beat in your heart. But twenty years from now… you'l hear it trying to kill you too."

Danny placed a hand over his chest, clutching tightly. He listened—and Vlad was right. There was a soft thrumming, but it wasn't painful like Vlad said… it was a nice energy, pulsing throughout his entire body. He never really noticed it before, but when he did he had always thought it was just the ectoplasm running through his blood.

But… could it be? Could it really be the start of some sort of painful downward spiral…?

"I suppose it doesn't matter. Any other day, and we'll be back to normal. Its motivations… and mine… aren't entirely different anymore." Vlad shook his head forlornly, rubbing his temples with both hands as he hunched over again, "And at the end of the day, I'm just another ghost you have to stop."

Silently, they both wondered if Vlad was asking Danny to stop him—to stop Plasmius.

Vlad clutched his head. "Are you through interrogating me now, boy? You wanted to know what it was… and now you know." He sighed heavily, "Leave… so I can deal with this monster on my own."

Danny opened his mouth to protest, to offer to stay, to help him somehow—but he really didn't understand. He could see the amount of effort it was taking Vlad to speak levelly, and he couldn't imagine what beast he was holding back with such a tight grip on his head.

How could he help when he didn't understand?

When he found he didn't have any words to offer, in comfort or reassurance or anything, he shut his mouth and just sat there, watching Vlad with wide, befuddled eyes.

That's weird. I always thought all the evil stuff was Vlad controlling it. I never realized it was the other way around.

Could Vlad actually be good? Was it Plasmius all along?

Danny froze.

Now that he was actually paying attention to the gentle pulse in his body, he realized that that first thought… had come just a little too fast.

Almost like it wasn't his own.