#I couldn't get across in this how *visceral* the need to find his Lair is

[akela-nakamura]

Alone In A Room, for the title game

send me a made-up fic title and I’ll tell you what i would write to go with it:

Okay, okay. I see this two different ways:

First: When a ghost is first formed, it's Lair in the GZ is a single room behind a plain door. It builds itself as the ghost gains strength and younger ghosts have to spend time in their Lairs to regain ectoplasm and "rest" as it were.

Second: When a ghost is forced into it's core, it's like being locked in a room. When they're first forced in, there isn't much around but it doesn't really matter, 'cause they're too tired to be bored. As they regain their strength (and how fast this happens depends on if their core is cared for or is simply left on its own), it builds up. And a ghost can start to feel what's around it. A ghost's ectoplasm is also really malleable when they're in their core, so if they want to change how they look they can do so in their core.

I like the first one better, so this is what I'm thinking:

Danny's only been a halfa for a few weeks when he starts feeling weak. The ghosts he's fighting aren't terrible powerful in the grand scheme of things, but for a young halfa who's still trying to figure out their powers, it's a lot.

Danny also can't understand why he feels so ill, he had been getting stronger, gaining more control but it's like he's hit a wall. Tucker and Sam try to help but they're just as in the dark as Danny is about ghosts and their needs. Sam suggestion hanging out near the portal, Tucker wonders if Danny has to actually eat ectoplasm or something.

At this point, they don't even know what cores are. They're running blind and they're starting to get scared. Maybe there isn't a cure for this, maybe the energy that blasted into Danny during the accident was temporary and it's running out.

Maybe Danny's going to die fully after all. Maybe that's why all the ghosts are gunning for him, he's not supposed to exist.

One night, Danny goes to bed early. He's so tired. There's a weight in his chest and he can feel something stuttering. It's not his heart, but it feels just as important. He feels a little hollow, like he hasn't eaten despite having dinner.

He can't sleep. He's so freaking tired but he can't sleep. It's not enough, it's not what he needs. He works his way down stairs and goes to the lab and it's a little better next to the portal. But it's still not right.

He paces outside the portal for a bit, tired, frustrated, and so so confused. There's something tugging at him, something calling him and he doesn't understand. There's instincts buzzing under his skin and he doesn't know how to interpret them. There's something that has to be found but he has no idea what.

He tries to stick to logic: Fact, going into the GZ alone is dumb, especially when he's this weak. Fact, not telling anyone where he's going is dumber and Jazz will freak. Fact, he doesn't know his way around the Zone, he can't go in without backup. He could run into someone he simply can't fight right now.

As the night drags on, logic--his human logic--slowly starts to lose meaning.

In the end, he's barely able to scribble a note out to Jazz and his friends before he dives into the portal, chasing after something he doesn't understand.

He transforms just before he hits the portal and it's like all thought vanishes. School, Amity, his family, his Obsession--all pale in comparison to what he has to find here, in the Zone.

He's seen the Zone before in brief bursts, but he hasn't ventured very deep yet. He's been too nervous to explore alone and Sam and Tucker can't exactly fly.

None of that matters now, though. He doesn't register anything, his mind is firmly locked on his Lair. There's a beating in his chest that can't be his heart and he feels...driven. There is only one goal and he cannot be distracted.

(He doesn't know it, but no one could find him right now if they wanted to. He's not exactly Phantom right now, he's a baby ghost in need of their Lair.)

He navigates by instinct, feeling the ectoplasmic currants that flow through the Zone and the feel of the larger lairs and kingdoms that dot the Zone.

He finds it and it's like joy. It's like home. It's like belonging.

The door is nondescript but he knows.

It opens for him. When he enters, all the tension in him eases. The pulse in his chest slows and the cycle lengthens, like whatever lies in his chest is slowly drawing energy in. The ectoplasm feels different here, less purposeful, less formed. It's not a fight to pull it in, to use it.

He curls on the floor and finally finally sleeps.