This is it! The last chapter! Thank you for reading!

+1.

This is all Randy's fault.

They came for him. He asked them to do this, he knew this Ninja couldn't handle it. He thought they wouldn't have any trouble winning this battle without him.

Two thirds of the Secret Trio were supposed to be more than enough.

This isn't even their city, he thinks. They shouldn't even be here.

There never used to be so many dragon and ghost sightings in Norrisville. They are here – and it's the only reason they are ever here – for Randy. For their friend.

The sky is dark above him as Randy runs. It's only twelve thirty, but there's almost no sun visible in the sky.

Nobody else is around him on the streets, nobody else stupid enough to run towards the battle instead of away from it.

No, they have all fled to safety and anxiously watch the battle on their TVs, some poor newsperson trying to film it all from above in a helicopter.

That's where Randy was, anyway. That's where Howard is now.

It had hurt, to be the one to have to watch. Howard never seems to mind, but Randy does. Empathetically.

Then he saw the splash of green blood, the falling of red –

Randy runs faster.

He feels everything; the pounding of his feet; the non-stop echo of his heartbeat in his ears; the way his breath catches in his throat, making him feel on the edge of a panic attack. It never used to feel this way when he was the Ninja.

He could've run twice as fast, he thinks as he struggles on. He could've used his scarf and transversed whole city blocks in seconds.

He could've been there already, helping his friends. He could've saved them.

The sky grows even darker as he nears the site, something heavy fogging up the air and worsening his breathing.

He has the time to think, I hate wizards, and thinks it over and over again. They are different than sorcerers somehow (it's like the difference between alligators and crocodiles in that there are differences but he can never remember them exactly right).

But this one.

This one.

The way Danny explained how ghosts work to him was this; you become your obsession. Whatever you lived for, be it love or hunting or revenge or even boxes – that becomes all you can focus on. It doesn't make you good or evil. It can make you callous. Cruel, sometimes. Mostly, though, ghosts are obsessed. Single-minded.

In life, the wizard was consumed by the idea of power. In death, he has more power than most can even imagine, but it will never sate him. He's too far gone now. He'll always want more.

Randy throws himself around a street corner and hates the wizard more forcefully in his head.

Stupid wizard. Stupid ability to absorb other people. Stupid unpronounceable name (like who names their kid Hoskelis Torreflame?!).

Okay, that last one probably shouldn't have been on the list. Or at least not so close to the 'absorbing human beings' thing.

Randy passes a car smashed to hell and thinks, please let that have been the wizard. If one of his friends had fallen and left in their wake the hood so completely mangled...it would not be good for them.

Randy shouldn't be doing this.

He slows to a stop in an alley that's ten, maybe twenty yards from the battle.

The scene...it's terrible. There are neon green splatters in the street, Danny's blood littering the ground; Jake is still in the air, but he's flying slow and fighting from a distance, like he's hurt; and the Ninja is nowhere to be seen, maybe off helping Danny somewhere. In the middle of the growing darkness is something that Randy isn't convinced used to be a human.

He wears a robe, like all wizards do. His feet have disappeared like every ghosts' do when they fly. He carries a spectral staff and a grin.

He doesn't seem to be struggling to hold his spell of growing night over the city as he attempts to blast Jake out of the sky. He seems like he's having fun.

This is a battlefield and the thought plays again in Randy's mind – I shouldn't be here.

What can he hope to do to help –

He locks eyes on bright white hair and a slumped over Ninja and all previous thoughts vanish like smoke into the thick air. Randy wheezes, still out of breath from his sprint, but readies himself to book it across a battlefield to the alley on the other side of the street.

Some small part of him wonders if there might be another solution that doesn't involve Leeroy Jenkins-ing this.

Randy pauses. Then, grinning, rushes forwards anyway.

He's not that stupid. He waits until he thinks the wizard isn't looking. Speeding, he makes it to the middle of the street and ducks behind an abandoned truck.

Randy peeks his head out, heart much, much calmer now that he's here on the battlefield. Like, he's in much greater danger than he was even two minutes ago, but he can see his friends and he feels better.

Seeing his chance, Randy front-rolls the rest of the distance and jumps to standing on the other side of the street. All that separates him, Danny, and a Ninja (is he in the Nomicon? Oh great ) from the wizard is a hair cut place that's part of this new strip mall in town. It doesn't seem like the wizard would have any trouble bringing the building to rubble.

But Jake's keeping him preoccupied, Randy reminds himself. He hopes it lasts a little while.

The Ninja looks like he needs serious help.

"Danny! Danny! Phantom?" Randy shakes Danny's shoulders, but all he gets is a groan.

Randy doesn't like how Danny is still dripping green blood everywhere.

"You haven't gone back to human form, though, so that's – "

A flash of white interrupts Randy's mutter.

He facepalms.

"That's on me. Shouldn't have tempted fate."

Sighing, he takes off his jacket and presses it into Danny's hurt side. The blood is red now that he's in his Danny Fenton form, not pure red like most people's (it's always a little darker, and sometimes it still glows in the dark), but it does seem to be pouring out faster.

Randy takes a moment, as he tries to slow his friend's bleeding, to take stock of the situation.

The Ninja is drooling and is slumped with his back against the wall, mind clearly in the open Nomicon resting in his lap.

Randy pokes his head gingerly out from their cover.

"Jake's not looking good." He thinks aloud as he sits back with Danny.

"Come on. Think, Randy. What would someone smart do in this situation?"

It's difficult. Maybe it'd be difficult even if he were someone with brains.

All Randy has are two unconscious allies (Ninja and Danny), two seriously wounded allies (Jake and Danny), a mildly distracted wizard, and absolutely no helpful skills.

He can't use Healing Hands on Danny. He can't give Jake a break. He can't kick the wizard's butt.

He probably can't even go into the Nomicon to fish out the new Ninja without running the serious risk of losing his memories again.

Randy Cunningham ran all the way here to save his friends.

Except he forgot the part where he can't do that anymore.

This is all his fault and he can't even fix it.

"What am I doing here?" Randy whispers. He slumps over Danny's prone body and laughs in a hopeless way, helplessness searing like a brand into his gut.

"Seriously, Danny. What am I doing here? I can't help you! I can't help Jake! I couldn't even save me if it came down to that." He tries to blink tears away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you here. I should've...just stayed with Howard."

Randy closes his eyes and lets tears fall down his cheeks.

He never thinks things through. Just this once, though, maybe he should've tried. Maybe Danny and Jake would've been alright, at least.

Two thirds of the Secret Trio, still going strong, still being heroes.

Randy's eyes snap open.

The world suddenly distorts, sight blurring and sound coming in disjointed and muffled. Every part of him sings. He can't tell if it's a good thing or not. It's all tunneled, down to trembling hands and a skyrocketing heartbeat and an idea that should make him stop, should make him burst with guilt and self-loathing.

He doesn't think things through. He's impulsive, that's like his thing.

Now, Randy wonders if he should be fighting that part of himself. He wonders if he even could.

"It's a bad idea." He says to no one. "I can't – I did make a promise. And it probably wouldn't even work for me anymore, right?"

It couldn't be as easy as borrowing the Mask. The Nomicon would stop him. It had in the past, when he did things it didn't approve of.

Except...except Mac Antfee wanted the suit. He wanted it back and he was prepared to take it. Surely he wouldn't have tried if putting the mask on again if it would've have done squat for him.

"I'm not the Ninja anymore." Randy reminds himself. "I can't, I'm not the Ninja. Everybody has been saying it and it's true, I'm not! I'm not the Ninja anymore!"

But this one isn't cutting it. He's too green, too new. This Ninja isn't protecting Jake, isn't saving Danny. By the time he learns whatever the Nomicon is telling him, it might already be too late for Randy's friends.

It might be too late for Norrisville.

Something in Randy clicks. Something settles, like acceptance, like hope, like longing.

It's as easy as giving in. As simple as tilting the Ninja's head one way, finding the seam, and lifting the mask up. No strength is required.

No one catches him. The Ninja doesn't wake up in the middle of it. The Nomicon doesn't flash at him.

The entire anti-climatic affair takes a second, and then the fabric is warm in Randy's hands. And then there's a small kid on the ground, eyes still glazed open. He wears a soccer jersey under a light jacket. There's a tie holding back dark hair. He doesn't look like anything special.

Then again, Randy supposes, neither did he.

"So...I'm sorry about this?" He tells both the Nomicon and the unconscious kid. "I promise I'll give it back. Right after I heal Danny. And Jake. And see if I can help stop this wizard again."

This would normally be the part where Howard would point out that Randy is breaking a promise right now, why would this next one be any different.

But it will be.

Randy will even accept the consequences – like permanent distrust from the Ninja or the Nomicon being furious with him or – or even being stripped of his memories, for good this time.

Randy isn't going to leave his friends to fight alone. That's not what a hero would do.

He takes out his phone and texts Howard, just for nostalgia's sake (and maybe as a heads up, too),

It's Ninja o'clock.

Then he puts the mask on.

Randy wouldn't say he's surprised that it still works for him. He would say he's glad.

There's nothing quite comparable to the Suit twisting around him, limbs bursting with magical strength, power warm in his fingertips. If anything, the feeling makes him think of seeing his friends again, after so much time apart; or taking down that mugger a few months ago; it's courage and home and a part of him that he welcomes back tearfully.

It's a part of him he thought he'd never get to have anymore. And well...maybe he never will again.

Maybe he'll never even remember what this is, that it has a name, that Randy Cunningham has always been a hero ( Danny was right, there's no walking away ) – maybe he'll have to forget again, after this.

"First I gotta make sure everyone survives." He says.

Randy gives an experimental punch and kick combo, unable to resist grinning. Then he turns to his friend.

Feeling incredibly rusty, Randy has to try Healing Hands three times before he gets it right. Only then does light emanate from his gloved palms and swirl around Danny's wound.

Danny stirs slightly. He doesn't wake.

Give it a minute to sink in, Randy thinks, half-wondering if he did it wrong somehow. It wouldn't be the first time.

Bright side: Danny definitely doesn't look so pale or so pained.

Not-so-bright-side: Randy doesn't know whether Healing Hands fixes blood loss, or if the amount Danny has already misplaced is enough to kill him.

To stave off heaps of anxiety, and because it needs to be done, he stands, hands on his hips, and turns around.

"Now, where to hide you, little Ninja." He says to the only other person in the alley way.

It only takes an ounce of his strength to scoop the kid up and Randy laughs, because he's strong and he could carry him as plain Randy, but it would never be so easy.

Randy has missed being so much more.

"No, not there," he mutters as he runs. "That has too much garbage. Ooh! I know!"

He settles the kid on top of a roof two blocks away, on top of a new apartment building. It's close enough that the kid could orient himself and find the battle again, hopefully after it's over, but far enough away that the kid is in little danger of getting hurt.

Randy debates for a moment, teetering on the roof's edge.

"I should leave a note."

Except he doesn't have any paper with him...hmm.

He manages to find a pen and writes, SORRY! BACK SOON on the kid's hand. It's the best he can do.

Then Randy takes out a sword and swings his way back with scarf held expertly in his hand.

This is all his fault. And he's going to fix it.

If Danny was surprised to regain consciousness alone, in human form, in a mildly disgusting alley, Randy doesn't see it. However, he does get to see his friend's face when he back-flips down as Randy Cunningham, college freshman Ninja (eh, that just doesn't have the same ring to it).

The Ninja mask does a good job obscuring the Ninja's identity, but Randy is taller, paler, and wears a different suit than the (proper? Real? 9th grade?) other Ninja did ten minutes ago.

So it doesn't take much squinting for Danny to say, startled,

"Randy? Is that you?"

"Excuse me, Phantom, sir, but that's the Ninja to you." Randy says, arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his face.

Danny, still Fenton, gapes at him.

"Bu – what –"

Randy finds himself beaming, loving the familiar weight of his scarf around his neck, the cool metal of his sword, and the soft material covering on his face.

"What? Nothing to say?" Randy teases. "No compliments on my new old suit? I'm hurt, DP."

"But you said – I can't – seriously – " Danny struggles to find words.

Randy giggles. He's downright basking in the glow of this, being the Ninja again in the company of someone who knows how much it matters.

He opens his mouth –

They hear a loud crash echo down the street, the sound uncannily like a medium-sized dragon plummeting hard into something metal. It sounds like it hurt.

Danny shakes off his surprise – he is a professional – and changes form, two white circles climbing his body and disappearing.

" Okay. Seriously." Danny Phantom says. "You gotta make up your mind, dude. Are you the Ninja or not?"

Danny is joking, clearly, and even rolls his eyes as he floats up.

Randy's grin dims to a smile.

"I'm really, really not."

He shrugs, then adds,

"Except for today, I guess. Time to go help Jake?"

Phantom nods as he takes to the sky.

"Time to go help Jake."

There's something in the air, now, something strong and confident building between them as they rush out from behind their cover. It's the something that comes from having a team again. It's that camaraderie, that familiarity and trust that comes with having friends at your back who you know will catch you if you fall.

Randy has missed this. By Danny's beaming face, he has too.

Hopefully Danny hasn't missed it that much, A voice in the back of Randy's mind whispers.

Randy dismisses it quickly; he can't think about that right now. He needs to do as he always does, and think about the consequences later. He needs to do now and think later.

The moment they swing around the corner, Randy has no more trouble doing in the present.

The scene is so much worse than before.

The sky nears pitch-black around the wizard and it seems to move with him as he flies down towards a prone dragon Jake, who is desperately trying to crawl away.

Red scales and a red jacket have always made it hard to tell when Jake is injured. That doesn't matter now – Jake leaves a horrifying bloody trail in his wake as he stumbles backwards.

Randy feels his heart stop at the sight. His whole body goes numb.

The wizard is going to perform his party trick, he's going to absorb Jake for his power, and then that'll be it, no more Jake ever, he won't be dead or a ghost, he'll just be gone –

Randy doesn't remember summoning a Tengu Fireball, he doesn't even think he called out its name which is very unlike him.

He blinks and there's heat singeing his fingertips. He blinks and the wizard's form is on fire.

Most of the fire is absorbed into his form automatically, but it must still hurt somewhat – Torreflame spins away from Jake and it feels good to see the amused expression fall off his face.

"You!" He growls, so cliche villain that Randy would laugh if he couldn't still see Jake trying helplessly to flee, blood pooling in the street at an alarming rate. But he can.

Randy's heart hardens.

"Me." He says.

Danny fires a frost ray at the wizard from behind, catching him off guard while his focus is on the Ninja (no, on Randy ).

Then it's his turn next.

It's something like therapy, coming at the magical ghost with all his anger and hatred and pent-up emotions.

He uses his fists and feet and sword when he knows the wizard is too distracted or disoriented to go intangible; and when the wizard slips past the material, he pulls out electricity balls and special, red colored orbs he's sure the current Ninja has no knowledge of. These are laced with blood blossom and sink into ghosts' essence on impact, and they hurt like a witch, though Randy does have to be careful that he doesn't hit Danny.

They might be able to trap Torreflame in a thermos. Not yet, though. Not when he's still this powerful.

Right now, Randy knows that Jake should be the priority.

He waits for an opening, for a moment to break away so he can heal his friend – because it does no one any good if they both get taken out while Randy is trying to heal Jake in the middle of battle.

It takes longer than Randy wants. The two of them are trying, but the wizard is powerful and it takes both of them to meet him head-on. The three of them could stand a much better chance.

Randy sees his moment. He drops to the ground, dodging a blast of amplified ghost ray that flies through empty space and into another part of the strip mall. It's timed beautifully; while the wizard had focused power on the Ninja, Danny was taking a deep, deep breath, charging up his ghostly wail.

Randy flips to Jake's side right as it hits. He wishes he had Ninja earplugs, because it is brutal.

Torreflame and Danny are mid-air, so Randy and Jake miss the worst of it, but it still makes the ground shake. Randy's teeth ache, his balance tips, and it takes all of his attention to painstakingly make the motions of Healing Hands instead of clapping his hands over his ears.

Danny can only really keep the wizard immobilized as long as he can keep screaming with his power. He only has so much breath and energy.

Sweat beads Randy's brow as he concentrates, knowing he can't speed the process up anymore. He starts to wonder if his ears are bleeding. He wonders whether Danny's ghostly wail could make the wizard weak enough to stuff in a thermos.

It feels like an eternity, kneeling over his friend, having his back to a floating, monster of an enemy while Randy's heart pounds and his brain is scrambled by the wail.

Randy makes it. He makes Jake's wounds close and glow and he's going to be okay, Jake's going to be fine – and oh, Randy wishes he had time to hold Jake's hand or carry him further away from danger, but he doesn't, he really, really doesn't –

Danny's stopped screaming. He no longer collapses after this attack, but he sinks to the earth and looks winded.

There's a split-second of time – Danny nods at Randy, as if to say your turn – and then Randy's throwing shuriken and blood blossom balls at the still hovering wizard. Randy hears a cry of pain and smirks as he throws his scarf and swings up to punch his enemy in the face.

Sometimes you just gotta punch psychotic evil ghost-wizards in the face. It can be its own form of healing.

Unfortunately, it's also not very effective. Randy decides to switch tactics.

Hanging mid-air on a taut scarf, Randy tugs back his fist, waves of blue pulsing around it, and punches forwards. He's too far away to make physical contact, but the blue grows and amplifies and smacks into Torreflame as a combination of Hydro Hands and Air Fist freezes him solid.

Randy cheers. Then says,

"Uh-oh."

Because freezing Torreflame in a block of ice was great and all, but now his levitation sputters and stills – and soon he'll be falling to the earth. Where the ice will probably shatter. Freeing him immediately. Because that's just kind of the luck Randy has.

Yeah, Randy's going to need some more help until Danny and Jake get back on their feet. Randy loosens his grip on the scarf and descends to the ground, words already pouring from his mouth.

The wizard falls faster.

"Stay grounded, do not waver," He mutters to himself. "The dirt itself will pay you a favor, to stop your foes and hold them back–"

The spell's words almost escape his memory, it's been so long since he's needed them, but even in such a stressful, tense moment, once he's started the chant they just flow.

The block of ice around the wizard shatters as he hits ground, and he is instantly staggering to stand upright.

But Randy's finished the spell.

"–harness the soil for an Earth Attack!"

He manages to summon five Ninjas made out of dirt and concrete. Randy grins at them all.

They look fierce.

"Alright Ninjas," He says. "Get 'em."

Time blurs. If asked afterwards, Randy might be able to give a play-by-play account of team Ninjas vs the wizard, by in the moment things just happen, and he tries to keep up.

One conjured ninja spins around a second one and chucks them at the wizard.

" You can't duplicate–" Torreflame tries to say before a sword pierces his gut. Ghosts don't need air and usually don't bleed much (Danny's an exception, being only half ghost), but it's still gotta hurt.

By the way his eyes widen and he mouths soundlessly, it hurts a lot.

Meanwhile, one concrete ninja (concreja? Nincrete? Eh, Randy'll workshop their name later) rushes up to give the wizard a flurry of kicks, leaving him unable to recover.

The sky is beginning to lighten, Randy realizes distantly.

Torreflame is beginning to lose his focus.

Unfortunately, Randy's advantage doesn't last. Torreflame, sword still sticking out of his chest, straightens, face furious, and shoves his fist through a concrete ninja's head.

It should scrape his knuckles, should cause him some pain, but Randy doesn't see Torreflame so much as flinch.

Randy shrugs. Villains, man. What can you do.

He decides to use the opening to burn hot, vision turning red as fire races down his arms and into outstretched hands. His fingers splay outward, the edges of his palms touching, as Tengu fire – more than he intends, honestly – explodes from his form.

The wizard sees it coming and flies up, out of the way. Instead of hitting building or air, the fireball crashes into an unlucky dirt ninja and it melts into mud.

"Oh, man, hot, hot," Randy mutters, waving his palms around to cool off burning hands.

The three remaining Ninjas surge forwards towards the enemy.

Torreflame inhales as he rises in the sky (it's gotta be for show, come on, dead people don't breathe) and Randy hears a loud, metallic clank as the conjured ninja sword phases through his stomach and hits the ground.

He looks seriously ticked. That's fair, after being stabbed and all, but he attacked a city guarded by an ancient, powerful Ninja and his friends. What did he expect was going to happen?

"Enough of this!" He cries, so angry his form trembles. It looks unstable. "I refuse to fight these worthless creations!"

"Hey, they aren't worthless!" Randy says. In the back of his head, he's wondering where Danny went, and when. There's no longer red at the edges of his vision, so Jake's gone too.

Randy sincerely hopes they left to get a thermos. Or a ghost-proof net of some kind.

"I came to fight the Ninja!" Torreflame continues, ignoring Randy. "To steal his home, to kill his friends! To bring the world eternal night! To demonstrate my absolute power !"

As he speaks, his body darkens. It's as though the dark mist he'd spread throughout the city is being absorbed back into his form, his normally already ghostly skin turning deep grey. His eyes are two red beacons. They are almost blindingly bright.

They don't so much as blink as he raises his staff and concentrates; as a thousand tiny, searing dots of energy rain down; as Randy yells and scrambles to duck for cover under a car; as the rest of Randy's army literally evaporates.

Great, Torreflame can make it rain acid. Like he wasn't powerful enough before.

"Eternal night would get boring and you know it!" Randy shouts from his cover. The Suit is intact, but the skin underneath aches. It's like a thousand small patches of the worst sunburn he's ever gotten.

"I guess we'll see." Is the retort he gets back.

Randy gets a second to breathe. Maybe two seconds. Then the truck he's cowering under is yanked up and tossed away by telekinesis pouring from the wizard's staff.

The Ninja is left lying on his belly, in plain view, staring up at the hovering ghost.

He tries a grin. The effect is mostly lost with the mask on, but he tries anyway.

"Um–" He says. Then he chokes, his lungs suddenly cut off from air.

Torreflame's staff glows sickly neon green, and as he raises it, so too does Randy's body rise. His hands instinctively clutch at his neck, at where the pressure is holding him, but his fingers find nothing because this is magic. He's not being strangled by physical means – telekinesis is what's killing him.

Spots dance across his vision as his feet scrape earth, then touch nothing, and he rises still through the air. He lifts ten, twenty feet up, moving closer and closer to Torreflame and his cruelly victorious face.

Randy kicks helplessly, out of range of anything. He claws at his throat and touches no obstruction, but he still can't inhale.

His own heartbeat becomes the loudest sound to his ears. Panic drives out any coherent thought, kills anything that isn't, can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe –

"What is it, Ninja?" He hears distantly. "No clever quips now?"

Weakly, he reaches into his sash for something, anything to help. But all his fingers touch are sai; and they slip from his grip as his vision starts to go black.

"S-stop...please.." Randy chokes out. He can't – he doesn't want to die here –

– please, someone –

– he needs air, he doesn't want to die, he doesn't –

– anyone, please –

Right before Randy faints, several things happen at once.

A stream of fire engulfs the ghost before him, so close to Randy that he feels his already burnt skin sear.

Only this time, Randy didn't throw a Tengu fireball. This time, it's all dragon-fire.

Randy smiles as he's dropped. He gasps in beautiful, plentiful air the moment Torreflame screams in pain and loses concentration – and his lungs thank him. He can breathe, he can breathe, the spots in his vision recede, and his chest stops feels like it's exploding. It's pretty awesome.

All of Randy's focus is on inhaling, so much so that he can't bring himself to care that he's plummeting towards the ground. Or..not? He catches sight of a blur. Then there's impact; softer than he'd expected.

"Oof!" Randy says, still gasping. He looks up to see jump-suited arms around him, Danny's face above him.

"Got your back, dude."

"Thanks...for...the save." Randy says. He sounds winded enough that Danny's brow creases, but they don't slow in their flight as Danny brings them up and above the action, to a tall building nearby.

Danny does ask, after setting him down,

"Are you okay, RC?"

Randy will never take breathing for granted again. It is the best.

After a second, Randy gives up trying to form an eloquent response and instead gives Danny a thumbs up.

"Never – better."

Danny smiles, lets him have that.

"Hey, at least this isn't Plasmius again." He says.

"Or that Dark dragon...guy."

"Or your stanky Sorcerer."

"I mean...its a wizard?" Randy points out. "I feel like...its kinda the same thing?"

"I thought sorcerers were older. Or was it that wizards need staffs?"

Randy laughs.

So even Danny is unclear on the differences.

Finally getting his breath back, Randy straightens, stands near the edge of the building and holds his scarf at the ready.

"I hope you have a plan, bro." Randy says. "Because I can't keep healing party members forever."

Danny's smile turns determined and cool.

"I've got a plan."

They don't call him this, because it would be beyond lame, but Danny is undeniably the Plan Man (trademark).

Randy can do tactics. He has good ideas in the short term, when bad impulses don't drown them out.

Jake doesn't plan. He has enough of a support system that they can come up with great plans together, emphasis on the together, and they do fine as a group. Honestly, when Jake does scheme alone, he schemes well. But he usually doesn't bother. He lets plans come to him.

The main reason Danny both can and does plan, Randy figures, is Vlad Masters.

Danny has an archenemy that plays chess, that plans ahead, that has beaten him on several occasions. Danny has had to plan to win against him. He's had to learn to think long-term. He had no choice.

That's something Randy can respect, but not something he needs for his own villains.

Therefore, with Randy and Jake unwilling to step up and try planning (it's like, a lot of work), Danny is the Plan Man.

It's had some limited success.

This time, even after hearing the somewhat vague plan from Danny, Randy is hopeful for a complete success.

It's a good sign then, that as they swing and fly down (respectively), Torreflame is pinned.

Tiny paper charms stick to his forehead, his arms, his chest. They have kanji on them that Randy can't read, but he's seen them before and knows what they do. It makes your bones feel like lead; it feels like gravity is crushing down on you.

Torreflame is upright but immobilized, ground cracking at his feet. He can't move the staff still clutched in his fingers.

Randy grins when he sees it.

"Ninja slice!" He shouts.

It must be a bruce sight, especially from Jake's view on the ground: Randy flips down from the sky, catches himself at the last second with his scarf and a well-timed roll, then leaps forward, bringing his sword down in a wide arc.

The top half of the staff, held downwards, clatters to the earth.

Torreflame shouts through gritted teeth in anger. The charms, already smoking and beginning to burn from his powerful emotions, go up in flames.

"My staff. How dare you?!"

"Hey, man, you started this." Randy points out. "You should'a stayed out of Norrisville."

Torreflame twitches. The moment the last charm is smoke and dust, he lunges towards Randy.

At the same time, Danny shouts,

"Now!"

All hell breaks loose. Randy fires a steady stream of tengu fireballs and as many blood blossom balls as he has left; Jake, to the left of Torreflame, roars dragonfire at his form; and behind Torreflame are three Danny's, one firing his ghost ray, one screaming his ghostly wail, and one removing the cap off a Fenton thermos.

Danny can duplicate now, something he couldn't really do in high school, but it does have the drawback of weakening his power with every duplicate. That's why he can use the ghostly wail so close to Randy and Jake – it hurts, but it doesn't shatter their eardrums, doesn't feel as powerful as usual.

And best of all, it works. Will all three throwing everything they can at the Wizard, his ghost form weakens. They can see him fall to his knees amidst the fiery deathtrap they've placed him in.

The Danny with the thermos grins and he points.

"Say goodbye, Hoskelis."

Huh, maybe Randy is the only one who had difficulty saying the wizard's name, he thinks idly.

Torreflame keeps it classic.

He screams,

"Nooo!"

And then he's sucked into the thermos, tucked away where he can't hurt anybody anymore, and this time he can't use his staff to escape.

Danny slaps the cap back on quickly. All three Danny's sigh in relief to see it stick. Almost like catching a Pokemon and making sure it doesn't pop out of the pokeball.

"We did it!" Randy shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. His limbs are more than a little singed and burnt from the battle, so it actually makes him wince, but he doesn't care.

They did it. They won.

Nothing is Randy's fault anymore because Danny and Jake and the city are all safe and they won.

"Up top, Dannys!" He says. He runs past the three of them and slaps their hands as he passes.

Danny lets him, grinning, before absorbing the other two back into himself.

"Jake, Jake, Jake!" Randy feels compelled to rush over and tackle Jake next in a hug. In dragon form, Jake is taller than him, and also feels scaly and uncomfortable to hug. Randy can't bring himself to care.

"We did it!" He says again, pulling away so he can grin at him. He also scans Jake for any more injuries and relaxes to find none.

"Yo, we actually made it!" Jake says, smiling back. "I don't believe it!"

There's a whole round of hugs and excited shouting and more hugs. Even some happy jumping up and down, which Randy doesn't think is beneath them exactly, but it does feel very middle school.

The Secret Trio is back. Jake and Danny stumble over each other, asking questions and teasing and congratulating each other, and so they don't really communicate for a while, they just hug and grin and make unintelligible happy noises at everyone.

It's pretty great, honestly.

They stumble out of the main street square and into an empty alleyway so they can all change back into their other identities.

That post-battle energy carries them down three streets before it bursts.

"Okay, okay okay. Battles over and that's awesome, but this is killing me, so I'm just gonna ask," Jake takes in a deep breath. "Yo, what the hell, RC?!"

Randy stops bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet to stare.

"Um, what?"

"Y-you're the Ninja again!" Jake says loudly. "You said you weren't the Ninja anymore, you've been having like, a total existential crisis about it for months, a-and now just poof! You're wearing the mask again like it's no big deal! Where's the other kid? What happened ?"

Randy feels offended.

"I haven't been having an existential crisis."

Danny tucks the Thermos under one arm and makes a so-so gesture with his other hand.

"You kinda have, man."

"While I resent the totally inaccurate implication," Randy says, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll have you know I'm not the Ninja again. I saw the kid stuck unconscious in the Nomicon and – and I knew you guys needed healing. So I... borrowed the mask."

Jake stares at him. Danny is fighting a smile.

"You stole it!"

"Borrowed." Randy corrects. "I'm going to give it back. Today. In just a minute. Promise."

Randy is so selfish. He's cruel and terrible and selfish, because he almost leaves it at this. He almost walks away – again – without saying a word.

There are reasons for it, just like there were reasons last time, and they are still true. He doesn't want to hurt them, he doesn't want to ruin this moment, he doesn't want the last time his fully memoried-self spends with them to be dismal and sad, etc.

If Randy's being honest with himself though, the real reason is that he's tired.

He's exhausted.

That's laziness talking, he thinks. It's not without warrant. He's emotionally done with all of today, all of this year, maybe, and merely considering the amount of emotional energy he'll need to both explain the truth and convince his friends to let this happen leaves him weary.

It would be so easy to let things be.

Sometimes, people talk about lying as if it's hard, like it's some great performance you put on – when really, lying is easy. Randy doesn't have to do anything to get away with a lie here. It's as simple a matter as closing his mouth.

Randy is the worst friend in the world for actually considering it not once, not twice, but three times, before his conscience finally catches and pins him.

It would be unbearably cruel. Jake and Danny are still upset by the last time Randy didn't tell them about this and they stayed friends with him anyway – another lie this big might break them, as far as their friendship goes.

Heroes get to ride off into the sunset, never looking back.

Friends stick around. They especially stick around for stuff like this.

"So, there's something you guys should know." Randy starts slowly. "Before I go see the kid."

"What, is the other Ninja gonna try and fight you for stealing the suit?" Danny asks. There's laughter in his tone, seemingly picturing the kid, now suitless, attempting to fist-fight the older and taller Randy.

It's not a bad point, though. The other kid is going to be angry.

"Maybe? Probably." Randy shrugs it off. "But that's not what I wanted to say. Um...you know how like, I was mind-wiped last year and it was super depressing and stressful for everybody?"

Jake loses his smile. Danny starts to glare at him.

"Yeah, dude." Jake rolls his eyes. "We definitely remember."

Wow, telling the truth is so awkward sometimes.

"Yes, I know you remember, that was a rhetorical question." Randy rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, nervously toying with his fingers. "Okay. Well, I was the first Ninja in Norrisville history to remember after being mind-wiped. A-and it's great, it's awesome that I remember, but...it came with a condition."

Now Randy can't bring himself to watch his friends. He doesn't want to see their faces fall, doesn't want to see realization creep into their expression, doesn't want them to feel the apprehension and fear that he's slowly beginning to drown in.

It takes more strength than it should for Randy to continue.

"Nomicon let me remember on the promise that I wouldn't so much as talk to the Ninja again." He says. "It's, uh, like a safeguard, because sometimes the power of the Suit can go to people's heads. That's one reason why people don't get to remember being the Ninja, because they have trouble giving up the position."

Boy, do they have trouble with it. It's a special kind of torture, having to go through this twice.

If he'd left well enough alone, he never would have remembered – and he never would've had to forget yet again.

Randy thinks he might be crying. That's weird, he thinks, because his lips are still turned up in a smile.

"Like, this is my fault, guys. This is on me." He tells them, still not glancing up. "I called you here and then you got hurt – a-and I wasn't just gonna sit and watch. I couldn't."

"I told you so." Danny says. He sounds strange, as though he's proud, even though his voice cracks and something mournful lurks beneath.

"I guess you did."

"So – so what does this mean?" Jake wants to know. "What happens now that you broke your promise?"

Randy swallows hard. He risks a quick look up at his friends, feels his smile strain but not yet fall as he takes in their faces.

"I broke my promise. So I don't get to remember anymore."

Something glimmers in Danny's eyes that looks scarily close to tears, but Jake's dim. Jake's eyes fill with something familiar and accepting and tired.

"Wait. But. Just like that?" Danny says.

Randy swallows again and swipes a knuckle under each eye. There's no more denying it. He's crying.

He is such a shoob.

"Just like that." He says.

"B-but do you have to? You could just give the kid the mask back and leave, right? It's not like he can force you into the book and make you lose your memories!"

This isn't anything that isn't already running through Randy's mind. Jake, gazing steadily at Randy, seems to see it too.

He doesn't ask Randy to remember. He doesn't tell Randy to break his promise. He doesn't tell Randy how could you, for doing this to him so soon, for doing this again even though Jake is still furious about it last time.

Jake musters up a smile, that dim, depressed expression still all over his face.

"You told us." Is all he says. "You told us this time."

"You wanted me to."

"Yeah, but you actually did it."

Randy crosses his arms over his chest.

"Hey, I can learn! It just takes me a few tries sometimes."

Levity doesn't last in this atmosphere. It drains, then dissipates, until only a heavy sense of finality hangs over them.

It's the feeling of goodbye. It's the feeling of goodbye setting in.

"Howard said last time that we couldn't remind you. That'd it'd be pointless." Danny says haltingly. "But what really happens? Like, say you get mind wiped and we decide to tell you everything. Could you remember that way? Could we bring your memories back?"

Randy tries to tell himself again and again that Danny is his friend, that he's only meaning to help. Somehow, this still feels slow and tortuous – dragging out a pain that could've been over in a moment.

Danny is looking for hope. It's not his fault there's none to be found.

"It's not like amnesia, DP." Randy tells him. "The memories aren't like hidden or fogged over, they're gone. They'll be in the Nomicon so my experiences can help train new Ninjas. I'll have...echoes. I'll know something's missing, like, like those negative space drawings in art. But I'll never be able to complete the picture. I'll never get that piece back."

Danny looks as bad as Randy feels. And Randy feels bad.

No other Ninja has had this much trouble with the process, have they? Then again, no other Ninja has had close friends to say goodbye to before. Randy's pretty sure of that.

And it hits him. Somehow, along the way, things have flipped. Randy isn't thinking about the Suit, about being a hero, about being the Ninja at all; this time he's not worried about forgetting The Ninja.

This time he's worried solely about forgetting his friends.

Randy hadn't needed the Suit, not really. Not to live. Not to be happy. He struggled without it, sure, and watching someone else be the Ninja had hurt like nothing in his life had before.

But he thinks about the last few months – seeing Jake and Danny again, texting them dumb memes, hearing Danny say, we're here for you and Jake say, we're really happy to have you back and –

– and he realizes that they made things worth it. They made the pain bearable.

So it's only far too late that Randy realizes he never needed the Suit.

But he needed them. He needs them. Present tense.

He feels his face soften, mouth quirk up in a half-smile.

"You know what? You should tell me anyway."

Danny blinks.

"You guys...you're my friends." Randy tries to explain. "My life is better when you shoobs are in it, okay? I'll never remember, but... I still want to spend time with you guys. And if you can't – if you don't want to deal with pre-ninja Randy, I get it. He's...kind of an idiot."

Jake laughs at that. The sound is choked with tears.

"But if you can, I'd love to meet you guys again. You're...kind of amazing."

Randy once told the Nomicon that he was a better person remembering his time as a Ninja and that's true – but he thinks he's his best self remembering his friends.

They've been telling him for months their own versions of you don't have to let go all the way. He wants to listen, now.

He wants to hold on to them.

"I'm still really mad at you." Jake says, eyes rimmed red. "You really had to go and do something this stupid, didn't you?"

"Hey, you guys were the ones insisting I could still be a hero."

Danny rolls his eyes.

"And you were the one who didn't believe us."

Randy believes them now. He'll never be able to communicate how much their belief in him means, definitely not within the short remaining time that he'll still remember it.

He loves them. He loves both of them for being there, for not giving up, for forgiving him when he does stupid things.

A lump rises in his throat. He realizes they never answered his offer and thinks maybe that's the answer in itself.

Glancing down at the mask in his hands, he feels a sudden, overwhelming urge to just run.

He could just run. He could take the mask, he should take the mask, he's better at it – and he could go somewhere the Nomicon would never find him and he wouldn't have to lose his memories and he could still be a hero and –

No. No. Norrisville needs the Ninja, what is he thinking?

Norrisville already has a Ninja.

And it's not Randy anymore.

He realizes he's stalling for time, standing still in an alleyway with a stolen magical mask warm in his hands.

"I need to give it back." He whispers.

"Right now?" Danny asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, I can't – I need to give it back. If I don't do it soon I...might never do it."

It's not clear to Randy whether the power of the Suit is corrupting him or whether this terrible, irresistible desire is all him, clinging to his past, but he does know that it doesn't matter.

A true Ninja keeps his promises; and when he can't, he apologizes.

Nomicon is owed an apology. The new Ninja is owed an apology.

And Randy isn't going to be strong enough to make them for much longer, not when he has a way out and has friends pushing him towards it.

For a second time that hour, Randy wipes away tears from his face and turns to make his goodbyes.

"We'll go with you, then." Jake says suddenly.

Randy feels his mouth fall open.

"R-really?"

"Of course ' really ', you shoob." Danny says, walking over to wrap an arm around Randy's shoulder.

"You aren't getting rid of us that easy." Jake blinks, frowns, and amends, "Again."

Randy grins until his cheeks hurt.

"Alright, but don't go trying to prank memoryless!me for payback, okay? Howard still remembers everything and he'll see it coming."

Danny laughs at him, lets him go.

"There are ways of bringing Howard around."

It doesn't feel the same as last time, walking towards oblivion – nor does it feel like a stroll to the gallows, which he will admit, is a bit dramatic, even for him.

This isn't death. This isn't torture. This is him owning up to his decisions with supportive friends by his side.

This is how things could have gone before. This is how things should have gone, if Randy would've been honest and open with them.

Well. At least he got it right this one last time.

A/N: Ahh, guys! I did it! I'm proud that I actually finished something this long. I know this ending was probably not what people were hoping for, but it's actually what I had in mind from this start of this fic.

If you want to believe that maybe the Nomicon was nice that day and gave Randy a pass, go for it. It wouldn't be the first time the Nomicon gave Randy a second or third chance.

As for where Randy goes next (memories or not), he learns the art of side-kick-ing from Sam and Tucker, gets some cool ghost-fighting tech from Danny's parents, and eventually joins a dojo to learn an official fighting style. He doesn't have a magic suit anymore, but he's still gotta do something with those heroic tendencies, and there are a lot of bad people in the world that need fightin'. Danny and Jake (and Howard, somewhat reluctantly) support him on this.

I might write more in this universe one day, but for now I got nothing.

Last thing - I apologize for my attempt at a villain in this chapter! I tried. Halfheartedly, but still.

Thank you again for joining me on this journey!