Ah, yes. My first fanfic since… wow. Two summers ago? It's been awhile. And yes! I've found a new fandom. Bit of a change from anime fandoms, if I do say so myself. Anyway, new fanfic time, one I've been working on by myself since the end of October. I just… kinda started writing it one day. It was semi-inspired by the song "Fix You" by Coldplay, of which I don't own. Anyway, I've never spoken of this or shown it anyone before this week, when I mentioned it on dA. So… yeah. Heh. Anyway, I'll stop… babbling. Oh, I also don't own Danny Phantom. If I did, it wouldn't be very different, but oh well.
-Shibby
Twilight Walking
Chapter One
"Come with me."
The voice was so cold, so demanding, that he almost felt obligated to follow. It was the type of tone that scared you into submission, made you feel like you could only stay where you stood, and you had no power over yourself.
But he didn't want that.
"No." The man narrowed his eyes beneath his brimmed cap, his hand on the holster of his .45.
"You are under the Impending Exile Amendment, and you will obey my commands. Under the IEA, I have the right to shoot you where you stand."
"I don't care." He tightened his fists. "I'm not going anywhere. I didn't do anything."
"You know what you did," the man said in the coldest tone that he had ever heard out of a living being. "Come with me… or face the consequences."
"I only face the consequences of actions that I've done," he replied, trying to keep himself calm. He could feel his anger building; feel that familiar feeling of his power warming his body. The officer breathed out deeply and pulled the .45 out of its holster. He locked it into place, aiming it straight for the teenager's forehead.
"If you don't come with me now," he warned, "I'll kill you."
"I'd like to see you try."
It was becoming colder again. The seasons were changing; the warm, sweet air of summer was slowly giving way to the brisk, cool air of autumn.
Which meant, eventually, it would be the cold, wet, snowy season of winter.
The sun had already fallen, and, once again, he had overestimated the length of the days. The days were becoming much, much shorter, which meant he would have to collect wood, shrubs and whatever burnable litter was around earlier, so they could see at night.
"Aww, damn it…" Danny Fenton muttered as he could feel his leg burning. He had, once again, cut his leg on something he couldn't see while collecting firewood. Muttering to himself about wanting his thicker pants back, he grabbed the offensive branch and threw it on the top of his large pile.
He couldn't hold the pile with only one arm, so he couldn't use his other hand to create a little, fluorescent green flame to lead his way.
He slowly stumbled out of the thicker woods and into the little clearing they had found, dumping the logs into the fire pit they had built.
"Got enough wood there?" Sam Manson asked, lighting a match and kneeling down over the wood, trying to make it catch flame. "Tuck, can you rip me a blank page from the book?"
"Why this book?" Tucker Foley asked, lowering it to see the girl. She frowned and pushed her loose, dark hair away from her vivid eyes.
"Because it's there, and I need a catalyst for this fire," she said, growing annoyed. Danny slumped to the ground, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bent water bottle. He leaned against a large rock and closed his eyes, allowing his hair to fall over the rock. It had gotten too long for him to properly see anymore, which he knew would happen eventually, but it was so damn annoying.
Sam and Tucker both shared his sentiments. And for Tucker, he had suddenly grown three inches in the last year and a half; Sam had to rip his other clothes to make makeshift extensions for his thick pants, so they at least reached his ankles.
Tucker reluctantly handed over the page, returning to his book. He was writing in it with a pen that had no back, tapping the pen absently against his face. A small, dark inkblot was forming on his face. Sam looked up from her triumphant fire lighting, and giggled lightly.
"Tuck, you have ink on your face," she said, leaning back and dusting off her boots. Tucker placed a hand on his cheek and felt the wet ink run onto his fingers.
"…Damnit!" he exclaimed angrily. He glowered at Sam as he wiped it away with his sleeve. "Sam, when you forage me pens, can you please get whole ones?"
"You were lucky I found one at all," Sam snapped. "And if you don't appreciate it, you could always use a stick and ash again." Tucker shuddered at the memory of his makeshift writing utensil from the spring.
The three outcasts sighed and stared into the fire, Danny dosing in and out of sleep, Sam drawing in the dirt with her long fingernails, and Tucker getting angry over all the things he had no control over, like the cold air and the darkening sky.
Danny's thoughts became jumbled and clouded as his mind drifted into unconsciousness. He thought about all that had happened in the past year and a half, thought about the future he had once had, but was now a distant dream.
Sam coughed into her hands, gently at first, but then it grew into a scratchy, hacking cough that left her breathless for a few moments. After wiping her mouth with her jacket bottom, she glanced at Danny. He was laying with his head back on a rock, his face towards the sky. His arms laid helplessly by his sides, and his body was twisted as it leaned against the rock. She could see his breaths curl into wisps in the air as he breathed slowly.
"I wonder how long it will be before he wakes up," Sam said softly. Tucker glanced up.
"Keep an eye out for the Dreams," he said, flipping a page. "It's best if we wake him before he falls too much into them." Sam remained silent. "I mean, God knows, one day we won't be able to—"
"I know!" Sam snapped, bringing her knees to her chest. She looked over at her crumpled, fallen hero. He rolled onto his side, his face calm.
The fire gave off a strong scent of wood, and Sam briefly wondered if someone nearby would notice it. She had hoped no one would, but she was uneasy, being this close to a town.
"We've made good headway," Tucker said after a period of silence. Sam nodded. "I think we're in north eastern Montana."
"Well, we didn't start actually moving until mid summer last year," Sam noted. "We could be farther east if we had made the decision sooner."
Tucker put down his book (it was the fifth time he'd read it, because he only grabbed one before they escaped Amity Park), and pulled out the newspaper he had found a few days earlier in a park.
"I can't believe you almost got caught over a newspaper," Sam muttered darkly. Tucker grinned sheepishly.
"Thank God for hormones!" he said, giving her a thumbs-up. Because Tucker had grown three inches, had longer hair, and even had stubble had allowed him to venture into a park without being recognized. "Some guy thought I was some local school teacher," he said, opening the paper and scanning for a certain article. "He kept calling me 'Mr. Chaesz', or something like that."
"I spy Danny," Sam said, noticing a picture on the front of the paper. Tucker turned it around and rolled his eyes.
"Hah, there it is," he said. He pointed to the picture. "This was why I got the paper in the first place."
A few nights prior, a rogue spirit had been attacking a small farming town relentlessly, trying to destroy the house where it was murdered. Which was putting a young married couple and their infant in danger. And so, because he couldn't shy away from the heroics, Danny Fenton became Danny Phantom, and successfully drew the evil resentment out of the spirit and sent it on its way in the Afterlife.
"Spirits like that give the Ghost Zone a bad name," Danny had said. Both Tucker and Sam had become worried that Danny was speaking affectionately about the Ghost Zone since the spring. It especially worried Sam; her worst nightmare was her and Tucker coming back from looking for firewood and food and finding a very dead Danny.
"Ah, yes. 'Danny Phantom Rids Evil Spirit'," Tucker read off the article. "It just talks about how such a 'kind spirit' could be considered dangerous."
"Well, it could be because of his unstable powers, mysterious state, and his rising temper," Sam mentioned. "That was one of the things that drove the governor to declare him Dangerous." Tucker frowned at her.
"Yes, I know, thank you," he said, turning back to the paper. "Why do you insist on spitting out the obvious?"
"Because we've been on the run since last SPRING because of it!" Sam exclaimed suddenly. Tucker glanced at her, a bit shocked. Sam started coughing again, harder this time, nearly choking on her own breaths. Tucker leaped up and knelt next to her, patting her back and pulling her long hair from her face. Her hair now reached her waist, growing at a ridiculous rate since they'd left Amity Park.
And with her cough, it was her constant burden.
"Sam," a wearied voice said, and a water bottle was offered before her. She gratefully took it and drank some, letting the cool water to soften her scratched throat.
"Thanks, Danny," she muttered, a blush darkening her cheeks. She was glad her veil of hair was covering her face, so Danny couldn't see. Danny smiled, his own hair in his eyes, and pulled his hair behind his ears so he could see her.
Looking from Tucker to Sam, he sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
"Danny, I—" Sam started, but Danny cut her off. Tucker turned away, picking up the paper and putting it into his bag.
"I know, Sam."
The fire had long since faded into dying embers.
Chapter one. This is pre-typed, by the way, so… chapters will come pretty steadily. This is the only fanfic-related thing I've written in a long time, so… please let me know what you think. :)
When you try your best, but you don't succeed, when you get what you want but not what you need…
-Shibby-One