Chapter Six: A Red Hunting Hat.

There's something I've been meaning to clarify. Dan is still known as 'Dan' in this story, but to Danny he's only known as 'Dark'- a name which he'd invented on his own. This will come up later in the story, but for now, I sometimes accidently use 'Dan' instead of 'Dark' while he and Danny are interacting. This is unintentional. Sorry if I confused anyone.

As for this, I have to work on the next chapter of The Clockwork of the Universe and edit these previous chapters. Plus I'm going to start to get busy this next few weeks, so my story updates will be particularly slow (especially since I'm going to switch back into drawing for a little bit).

Warning(s): Creeper!Dan (although that's a warning for this entire story I'm afraid) and possible spoilers for The Catcher in the Rye. (There'll be some more of those in later chapters as well. Nothing major. I promise.)

Danny was gone from his citadel; he was going to be late for school, but that didn't mean Clockwork was completely alone in his dark lonesome abode. After all, he had a- for the most part- unwelcome guest now.

"I know you're there, Dan."

The ghost leaning against the arch dropped his invisibility. Same blue/green skin, same condescending red eyes, same flaming white hair: there was no mistaken the man standing there was in fact Dark Dan Phantom. "Heh, I guess I still can't fool you, Clockwork?"

Clockwork narrowed his eyes cautiously yet remained motionless, only watching the other ghost. "No, you can't."

"Well, at least... Not yet." Dan smirked and Clockwork frowned. "You see, I caught most of that conversation with Danny-boy, and it seems I have the upper hand in this situation." He ran his hand briefly through the fire of his hair.

"Not for long."

"Ah you see, I'm disinclined to believe that. You're not the almighty being in this situation," the Phantom leaned in close to the time master's ear. "And you never will be. Don't ever forget that, Clocky."

"Three steps back, Daniel; Even without my future sight, I'm still strong enough to take you on. Maybe you're the one who shouldn't be forgetting that." Clockwork warned, his voice taking on a slightly more hostile tone.

Dan haughtily smirked yet obliged the order, taking three small steps backwards. He could play the game just as well as anyone, especially when in the long run he knew he was going to be the victor. They glared at each other upon realizing how close they were still standing together.

"Now, I want you to listen carefully. You're to leave Danny alone."

Dan raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Do you plan on stopping me?" His eyes definitely displayed amusement at the thought.

"No," Clockwork declined. "I'm not going to do anything. In this situation, it's best I wait it out and see how the time will flow on its own, but if you give me one incentive and one opportunity to do otherwise, I will make sure that, in comparison, the very idea of the thermos will seem like a paradise to you."

"Oh, I'm so scared. Heh, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous." Dan reached out and put a hand on to the other ghost's cheek. "Well, Danny is gorgeous; I'm sure you noticed... but you're not too bad yourself." He smirked, fangs showing in their entirety. "When I'm done with him... maybe. I'm sure you wouldn't mind, eh, Clock?"

Clockwork raised a gloved hand and slapped Dan's own hand away from his face. "Get out."

Dan smirk only grew as he stepped backwards and turned on his heel to leave. "You're right. I'm going to be late, wouldn't want Danny-boy to be lured into a false sense of security or any such nonsense." He nonchalantly waved him off. "I'll be back, Clockwork."

"I won't be waiting." Clockwork resisted the urge to strike the man while his back was turned. He just needed to wait this out. After all, he could do that; he was good at waiting.

"Oh, I'm sure you will be." Dan laughed, flying out of the archway he had been leaning against moments ago. The dark green atmosphere of the Ghost Zone was lightening, if only a bit. That must mean the sun was rising in the human world.

The Phantom wasn't as fast as Danny was- most likely because Danny was lithe where as Dan had inherited Vlad's width-, but if he sped up, he'd be able to make it there on time, if not a little bit late for what he had in store.

"Daniel Fenton, nice of you to join us." Lancer said irately, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sure enough, Danny was late for school, and likewise, of course his first period had to be Lancer, but that was to be expected. Sometimes it felt like Mr. Lancer was his only teacher.

"I'm aware of your current situation." He said, still sounding rather bitter. Danny's eyes widened if only slightly. How is that possible? He doesn't even know of Dark's existence. "It's unfortunate that your parents' hobbies led to the loss of your home, but while I may be lenient about your tardiness today, I expect you'll be here bright and early just like every other failure here." Lancer smiled, and Danny suspected he was trying to make a joke or something. "Now, turn in your late work, please and take a seat. We don't have all day." He pointed to the wire basket on his desk. The same one used for turning in papers and tests and- late work.

Danny shrugged and walked to his seat, the one right next to Tucker and in front of Sam. Danny noticed they both wore identical looks of extreme relief and worry.

Lancer sighed at his student's most recent academic failure and continued on with their lesson. He wasn't sure, but he thought their unit was about The Great Gatsby although that could've ended last week. Why couldn't he remember? Danny didn't recall taking the unit test on the novel, so maybe they were still studying it.

"Okay, so you all read the assigned chapters last night, well most of you did. What was-" Lancer continued on with his lesson as if Danny had been there all along.

Tucker leant over towards him. "Man, what happened to you? The whole town heard about the explosion, but when we tried to get in touch with you. You weren't there! It's like you fell off the map or something!"

"Yeah, where have you been, Danny?" Sam asked from behind him.

Uh-hum. Lancer cleared his throat, shooting a glare towards the talking teenagers. He was being a bit more slack than usual, but it was obvious he wasn't going to tolerate the talking for much longer. "Like I was saying- does anyone have any ideas on the symbolism of Holden's red hunting hat so far?"

Holden? Maybe they weren't reading The Great Gatsby after all.

"Guys, shh! This is important; we have to pay attention." Danny hurriedly whispered in their general directions before focusing back towards the front of the class. Maybe he could pretend he knew an ounce of what was going on.

A tap on his shoulder made him quickly spin around. He wished they'd just leave him alone already.

Sam's eyes were downcast buried in the book she had pressed against the very edge of her desk. One hand remained invisible to his eyes as it held her orange covered book near her lap; the other black manicured hand lay nonchalantly resting on the top of the desk, loosely holding a neon green mechanical pencil.

It didn't seem like she was the one who just tapped him. It definitely didn't seem like she was waiting for him to turn around.

Danny frowned and turned back around to concentrate on what little notes he was trying to take when he felt a lighter tap on his shoulder. If this is her idea of a prank- He turned around again and noticed Sam was now holding a copy of the book they were supposed to be reading. He took it and shot her a grateful look. 'Thanks,' he mouthed and turned back around once again.

He studied the book cover. It was a burnt orange cover and it's only other notable features were the words 'THE CATCHER IN THE RYE' in large yellow letters. Well that and the author's name beneath it which were likewise written in the oddly capitalized off-yellow color, 'J.D. SALINGER'.

Okay, they were reading The Catcher in the Rye apparently. At least he'd heard it was a good book. Jazz really liked it, at the least. He opened the old cover; a small green sticky note was stuck to the title page. The only thing it said was a page number.

Flipping to the correct page, it was easy to realize it was the page they were supposed to be on. Sam must've written it for me. Danny concluded, finally following along but still not quite understanding what was going on.

"Miss Manson," Mr. Lancer began, "What do you think his hunting hat symbolizes?"

Sam looked up from her book. "Well, I see it as a symbol for his identity and individuality. The hat is eccentric. It basically shows us that Holden desires to be different from everyone else, but at the same time he's extremely self-conscious about it. He usually doesn't wear it around people he knows, and he'll always mention it when he does wear it. The hat mirrors the central conflict, his need for isolation versus his need for companionship."

Lancer's eyes widened. "Very good, Samantha! I'm impressed; I wish other students would be as attentive as you." His eyes darted forward to where Tucker had his eyes directed towards his lap where he was hiding his PDA under his desk. "Tucker!" He barked.

"What?" Tucker's eyes snapped up in shock, pushing the device into the desk out of sight.

"Do you have anything to add to what Miss Manson has just told us?"

Tucker pushed his glasses up from where they were resting slightly beneath the bridge of his nose. "It's a hunting cap, right? Maybe he's hunting for something."

Lancer raised an eyebrow. This day was full of surprises. "You're on to something, Mr. Foley. What was he hunting for?"

Tucker shrugged. "You got me."

"Daniel? Would you like to give it a shot?" Lancer asked and suddenly all eyes were on him.

"Uh," Danny fumbled trying to think of something. "People?" The classroom snickered. Everyone knew Danny didn't do the reading. It was obvious and to be expected, but what made it more amusing is that in a very funny twist of fate, Holden in fact does refer to his hat as a 'people shooting hat'.

Mr. Lancer sighed. "Once we get farther in the novel, Mr. Fenton, I expect an answer out of you." The balding man with a potbelly turned around to scrawl something on the chalkboard.

'D. Fenton: What is Holden symbolically hunting for?'

The word 'symbolically' was underlined multiple times.

"Just so you don't forget, I'm going to leave that up there, and I expect no one except Daniel himself to help him come up with an answer." Lancer met eyes with the semi-lethargic boy. "You have until we get to the end of the novel to come to me with an answer. That should be plenty of time."

Class continued on like that, going over the assigned reading. Nothing else really. Luckily Lancer had the sense not to call on him again; Danny had his dose of embarrassment for the day.

Eventually the bell tolled, and they were free to leave. Danny hoped up, grabbing his belongings- including his new book-, shoving them into his backpack, and headed for the door.

"Danny, wait up!" Sam called out, swinging her purple spider backpack over one shoulder and bolted after him.

"Guys, wait for me!" Tucker called. He snuck his brand new PDA into its carrying case and followed them out the door to their lockers which were conveniently next to each other.

Sam opened up her locker and switched a few books. She had biology next period, so switching out her English books would make much more sense.

Danny reached up to open his locker as well, but the door was already ajar. I probably just forgot to close it. He took a breath and opened it the rest of the way. Nothing was out of place or missing. I'm just paranoid. This'll pass; calm down, Danny.

His friends were giving him a strange look; he was acting rather jittery today. "Thanks for the book, Sam. You really saved me back there."

"No problem. I got your note, and there happened to be a spare in the desk." Sam said, shutting her locker door.

"What note?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The one you passed me asking for a book. Uh, here." She said before digging around in her backpack's pocket and handing him a crumpled up green sticky note.

'You have a spare book I could borrow? I'm completely lost here. –Danny.'

"Oh yeah. That note." Danny confirmed, brushing off their suspicions. The note was written in what appeared to be his hand writing, although it looked a bit forced- like it was purposefully trying to be messy.

One thing was for certain, he did not write that note.

He grabbed his textbook for his next class, World History. Tucker was leaning against his locker, playing with his PDA. It looked like a newer version of his last one which technically it was.

"You gonna grab your books for your next class, Tuck?"

"I'm all set. My next class is technology, and I got all the technology I need with this baby right here." He coddled his PDA up against his face as if it were some sort of fluffy animal... like a kitten.

"Whatever you say," Danny chuckled. He was trying to act like everything was normal. He knew something was wrong though. It didn't take a genius to figure out which was a good thing because that was one thing Danny definitely was not.

"Danny," Sam began. Her purple lips were in a small concerned frown. "Don't brush us off. What's going on?"

Danny sighed. Maybe it was best to tell them the truth...or a watered down version of the truth. "From the beginning? Our house blew up- not because of some lab accident or ecto-filtrater explosion- but because I got into a fight with this ghost. Before you ask, you don't know him. I was gone because I had to go take care of him, but in the end, he managed to get away. Now I think he may be lurking around, so if anything strange happens, tell me okay?"

"You know you're rambling, right?" Tucker asked, looking up from his PDA. You could tell Tuck was concerned from the look in his eyes, even though he was still joking around. "Anything we can do to help?"

"No. Just... if you see something, tell me. I can take care of it." Danny tried to reassure them.

Sam scowled. "Danny, we're your friends! We can help if you just tell us more about what's going on!"

Danny was prepared to brush her off again when something bright caught his attention. Peeling off the sticky note, he read it to himself.

'Bathroom. Freshman Hallway. Now.'

He paled. It couldn't be. At school of all places? Oh no.

"What's that? A note?" Tucker asked, leaning over to check it out, but before he could read it, Danny crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket.

"Yeah, just a note I wrote to myself. I, uh, have to go... to class now. The bell's about to ring." Danny gestured to the speaker's above their heads. It really was one of the worst places to have a locker- under the speakers and right next to the band room.

Danny sped off, down the hallway. Luckily, it didn't occur to them that he was going in the opposite direction of his next class.

Tucker and Sam exchanged more worried looks. "Something's up with him." Tucker pointed out.

"No really? I didn't notice anything." Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, he's- you were being sarcastic, weren't you?"

"Sarcasm. Learn it, live it, love it." Sam smiled briefly, knocking Tucker's light red beret off his head and onto the hallway floor.

Danny made it to the bathroom, and before pushing the door open. He took a deep breath 1) because he was nervous and 2) because it was always hard to breathe in the freshman bathroom. Luckily, he knew because of this, no one ever uses it anymore.

Once inside, he let himself become Phantom. It was a bit safer this time, maybe he'd actually have a fighting chance. Glancing around, he looked at the stalls. All the doors were open, no feet. He was alone here. No one was-

Ack!

Having bolts of pure electricity coursed through your body is not only painful but also extremely shocking- bad pun intended. It's enough to force a half-ghost back into their human side.

The large hands on his waist spun him around until he was face-to-face with Dark. The flaming haired man smirked, before pressing his lips against Danny's in a surprisingly chaste kiss.

"Morning Danny-boy." Dark smirked. "How was English?"

"Don't you already know?" Danny sneered, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "After all, you were there, you bastard. Passing notes to my friends and all."

The ghost frowned, mimicking Danny's crossed armed stance. "They were my friends too once upon a time."

"No!" Danny growled, throwing his arms down in exasperation. "They were never your friends because you are not me." If his powers hadn't been shorted out, his eyes most likely would have been flaring green in anger.

"Oh, calm down." Dark rolled his eyes. Sometimes Danny's temper was amusing, other times it was just irritating. "You know what I think?" He asked, stepping forward to close the distance between them.

"No. What do you think?"

"I think I helped you out. I gave you that book, and I was even kind enough to tell you what page you were supposed to be on." He smirked. "What would you ever do without me?"

Danny frowned, clearly unamused. "I think I could manage. Besides, it was Sam who gave me the book."

"Who do you think put it in her desk? And I know you know who wrote her that note because it obviously wasn't you."

"Whatever. So you got me a freaking book. Who cares?"

"I care." The Phantom growled. "You should be more grateful... What was that saying? 'It's the little things that make life worth living.'"

"Little things from you seem to produce the opposite effect." Danny said while narrowing his eyes.

"Oh ha ha. Aren't you hilarious?" Dark chuckled in a way that made it obvious the joke wasn't funny to him in the least.

"Just cut to the chase. You obviously didn't call me here to have me thank you for some stupid book."

"You're right. I was thinking I'd do something more along the lines of this." Dark pressed his lips against the younger boy's in a less innocent kiss than the previous one. He could feel the warmth in his face and could just barely make out a slight red color on Danny's cheeks. "Oh come now, we fucked last night, and you're embarrassed about a little kiss?"

Fucked? Is that what he wants to call it? "I- we- you... you r-," That proved difficult to say out loud. It sounded much better screamed in his head.

The man's smirk was infuriating. He didn't even regret or feel awkward about what he did in the least, but as quickly as the smirk appeared, it disappeared from his face.

The bell had rung.

He sighed and gestured towards the door. "Class is starting. Go before I change my mind."

I hit the forth page, and the writing went downhill. Sorry about that... and apparently 'unamused' isn't a word. Who knew?