This very wierd AU story got too many reviews for me to just dump without at least giving it an attempt. Please tell me if I'm doing okay?? I don't write AU stories for a very good reason... I'm not too good at them. If this is bad, I think I may set it aside for now and come back to it later - maybe take the time to switch it to the right universe. Give me your feedback! I demand it. :-)

mePhantom
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

Chapter 2: Thoughts

MeZombie1134572983 slowly lifted the green and gold vase to dust underneath it. He ran the soft cloth carefully along the shelf and over the vase before setting it back down. He moved on to the next shelf without thought. This was his job. He had been assigned to dust the Master's house this morning. It was nothing new – he had been dusting once a week since he had been purchased by the Master. Two months and eleven days, the meChip in his head helpfully informed him before noting that he was a nearly ten seconds behind schedule already and needed to keep moving.

The boy easily slid the cloth over the remaining shelves, being exceptionally diligent around an odd-shaped ball inside of a clear box. The boy didn't even bother to think about what had happened last night. The meChip had quickly and thoroughly informed him that MZs do not have names, and it was not allowed for an MZ to be searching for a name. MZs can not think enough to wonder what their name might be. He was back to normal this morning: his mind was blank and thoughtless.

He skimmed the cloth over the back of the green leather couch, his movements precise and controlled. His body and mind were being controlled by an advanced computer program; his actions could usually be counted on and timed down to the second. Things were done in a specific order – the shelf with the vase was dusted at 10:03:55 a.m. and the couch was to be dusted at 10:06:30 a.m. Everything had a time and place.

Which left the question as to why he was behind schedule... Not that a meZombie would ponder such a question. MZs could not think on their own. That was why they were servants. That was why they used the Dream software. Their Masters were benevolent saints that kept them alive. The Masters fed them, gave them thoughts and movements, gave them life. MZs should not question the timetables that their Masters gave them. If a couch was to be dusted at 10:06:30 a.m., then the couch was to be dusted at that precise moment. Not at 10:06:40 a.m.

As meZombie1132472983 carefully arranged the golden pillows, his meChip sent a blare though his head. The boy hesitated, confused. You are over five minutes behind schedule, the chip snapped, Move your feet. You should not be in here anymore.

The boy quickly set the last golden pillow into place, ready to leave the room. Suddenly, the door to the room opened. The MZ, in a fit of panic since he shouldn't be in the room anymore, dropped down behind the couch. He closed his eyes, waiting desperately for the meChip to tell him what to do. The meChip and Dream always told him what to do. He couldn't think on his own.

But the meChip was silent. Dream sent no impulses to his muscles. And so the boy sat still, crouched behind the green couch with the gold pillows, and waited.

"Is the transfer acceptable?" a nasally voice said.

The MZ shivered as he recognized the voice of his Master.

"No, no, no…" the voice trailed off.

The meChip happily supplied some information at this point. He's talking on meWeb to Dr. Grey. The boy didn't really care. He wanted to know what to do to get out of his situation, not who was talking to whom.

"Fine. Your conditions are satisfactory." There was a tense silence as the man listened to the voice in his head. "Actually no. The three new MZs aren't being any trouble. Yes, yes – I'm keeping a close watch on them. It's been over two months, my friend. If they haven't shown any signs yet…"

He's talking about you, the meChip interjected at the boy's half-thought question.

The Master paced to the back of the room, rustling papers on his desk. "Leave off. Can't you trust me to keep an eye on three MZs? They can't think, for Pete's sake. Don't you think someone would notice if they were acting odd or their programming was malfunctioning? Sure, that one boy – the one that was in the portal when those maniacs turned it on – he was a bit off schedule yesterday, but not by a significant amount. A few seconds late. That's within acceptable limits."

The boy could hear the door creak softly as it opened. His meChip distantly sent in a request to get the door oiled on the next pass-through.

"Stop worrying, Damon. They're just MZs." The door clunked shut as the conversation was abruptly cut off.

MeZombie1132472983 remained crouched behind the couch for a long few seconds. He waited for the meChip and Dream to tell him what to do next. He was horribly behind schedule and that made his stomach twist itself into knots. After all the Master did for him, he was being repaid by shoddy work. The half-thoughts that filtered through the MZ's head made his hands tremble.

With a splash of terror, the boy finally realized that the meChip and Dream were not going to help him. He sat there, shaking violently. This had never happened before. What was he to do? MZs can't think… his half-thoughts raced in circles.

We need to get moving, a thought tickled in his mind. Gratefully, the boy got to his feet and stepped out from behind the couch. He didn't question where the thought had come from. He was used to getting orders. Sure, it hadn't sounded like the meChip and didn't feel like Dream… but it was an order. It was better than nothing. His stomach slowly untwisted as he relaxed. All was going to be well now. Someone was solving the problem.

We need to check in to the office in a little under ten minutes. If we hurry, we can get there in time still. The boy didn't hesitate as he walked out the door and began to hurry down the hall.

His meChip suddenly blared at him – he hadn't dusted the Master's library. It was in the schedule. The boy needed to keep to the schedule. The MZ stopped, turning around.

But that other thought overrode the fuming meChip. We dusted the library last week. It's fine. We need to check in before we get caught.

The MZ stood still in the middle of the hallway. The two voices in his mind were telling him to do different things. He closed his eyes, waiting for them to come to an agreement on what he should do. It wasn't his decision, after all.

The meChip snarled at him. He needed to dust the library. He was behind schedule. He needed to report to the infirmary to be checked out. Something was obviously wrong with the Dream software. The chip sent a long list of things to do into the MZ's mind.

The boy brought his hands up to his head and rocked back onto his heels. The chip was making his head hurt. Too many things to do. Too many directions. The boy started to moan softly, sinking down to the floor. After a few seconds of silence, the meChip sent another blare through his mind. Dust the LIBRARY!

The force of the command was enough to drive the MZ to his feet. He took two steps towards the Master's library before the other voice once again trickled into his mind. No, the thought whispered, We'll get into trouble.

MeZombie1132472983 smiled a bit at the return of that other voice. It felt… familiar… to the boy. The boy's half-thoughts swirled around a memory of what had happened the last time he had been off schedule. His software had been dumped and reloaded. It had been a very painful and scary experience. He didn't want to do that again.

So, for the first time in his life, the young MZ made a decision. He chose the soothing voice over the pain of the meChip. Not even realizing the momentous occasion, the boy headed quickly towards the office to check in.

Two hundred thirty-seven miles away, a large man sat at the terminal of a computer and tapped his finger against his chin. He seemed to be staring at the long stream of data, but his eyes were fixed in the distance. Vaguely, he reached up to scratch a long scar half-hidden in the black hair on the side of his head.

"'839?" The whispered voice made him sit up slightly and glance over his shoulder. A young woman walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you watching them again?"

"I've told you not to call me that," the man rasped.

She smiled sadly as she watched the data flicker past on the screen. "Just him? You can't dwell on this too much."

"But it's my fault, '375."

"No it's not." She pushed her long hair out of her eyes and reached up to turn off the screen. "He'll be fine."

The man nodded, his eyes gazing blankly at the darkened screens. Then, with an ease that showed his months of practice, he pushed the boy out of his mind and dragged his bulk away from the computer. He looked into her eyes. "You pick a name yet?"

She shrugged. "I don't get this name thing of yours. Why do you care so much?"

"We deserve names. We aren't just some zombies and we need to prove it."

"Fine." She watched him move towards the door before grinning. "Jack, I do kind of have a name in mind."

The man laughed. "I've told you not to call me that either."

"Whatever." Her eyes sparkled as she gazed out the windows. Just outside the window a beautiful flower was blooming. Those delicate pedals had been the first thing that she had seen after she had woken up. They meant almost as much to her as the man standing before her. "I was thinking about Jasmine."

To be continued...

Darn it - it's going all Matrixy on me.

Thanks for the original reviewers who got me to write this chapter - hope it's okay! - MoonBIce, Arabic Blessing, Maffeoel, Induviduality is all it takes, NixedFreedom, Straying Life, Chaos Dragon, MoonrockBlink1772, Nonasuki-chan, Rakahn, southernstarshadow, Call Me Zaniri, Fan-Fic-CC27, midnightpyro, Night'sBullet, Henshi-anichan, MollyTheWanderer, XME, Mystitat, Seika, yami4eva91, Secret Spy Guy, and Sasia93.

So... what do you think?!?! Hit that pretty little button and give me some feedback...

This, in all likelyhood, will not be updated in a while. Sorry, but I'm focusing on "Pits" - AND I think I'm out of my pothole with "Light" and I'm GOING TO GET IT DONE! Yup.

Later!

--Cori