Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 3
Part 1 & 2
***
The lab is empty when they get to Fenton Works, his parents busy off helping the JLD wherever it was they were working from.
The journey the rest of the way to the Far Frozen passes relatively quickly under the weight of discussing how to reverse engineer the sarcophagus of forever sleep to make Naptime Box 2: Vlad Edition.
Could they probably just beat him up with the right plan and aid? Sure. But then they risk having to play royal hot potato (Danny doesn't want it and he doubts most of the allies he has would want the extra responsibility. Assuming there are responsibilities - Danny wouldn't know since there hasn't been a king, for all intents and purposes, since well before he became a halfa so who knows what the position even means in the context of the Zone).
Plus it would be way more satisfying to shove him in a box. Vlad gets a nice long nap and Danny gets to live the rest of his half-life without worrying about his Dad getting stabbed or something if Vlad starts feeling impatient.
It would also give Danny plenty of time to find some way to buy the Packers - not because he wants them, just because it would be really funny if Vlad eventually woke up to find that the only thing he wanted other than Maddie was now also very permanently out of reach.
The city of Green Bay could fold eventually, after all. But Danny? Danny would never yield, just to spite him, and Vlad would know that.
He probably won't actually do it, seeing as a) expensive and b) probably complicated.
But it would be really funny.
Their discussion on the ethics of using the Fenton Stockades as the base for the Box cut off as they land.
Without the distraction of their chat the adrenaline of panic comes rushing back, and he transforms as he steps out of the Speeder, nyooming to hover in front of Frostbite so quickly that the entire welcoming party - Frostbite somehow manages to have one arranged every time he drops by, and Danny is usually willing to at least try and indulge them since it seems to make them happy - jolts in surprise.
"Greetings!" Frostbite smiles wide, arms open in a grand welcoming, the only hint of lingering surprise the trails of slightly puffed up fur up his arms and the sides of his neck that has already mostly smoothed itself back out. "The Far Frozen welcomes the Great One and friends-"
"Hey Frostbite sorry for being abrupt but I'm kind of freaking out and you seemed like the best person - uh, ghost to go to because you always seem to know lots of things and I kind of need to know what's going on as soon as possible just in case it's a worst case scenario because the Justice League came to talk to my parents about some papers and I probably haven't mentioned them to you before because they're awful and I thought my parents made them but surprise I was wrong! Which is good! Except the League was mostly worried about them maybe causing the new ghost king to war with the human realm because apparently there's a supernatural branch of the Justice League and they think there's a new Ghost KingTM as in the Ghost King after Pariah Dark and I'm kind of freaking out because if there is a new ghost king there's actually a chance it's Vlad and oh ancients please tell me it's not Vlad or that the League heard wrong please."
Sam and Tucker had caught up by then, coming to stand on either side of him as Frostbite blinked.
"You are...asking me the identity of the current High King?" He asks, face scrunched in a bewildered expression.
"Oh my gosh Batman was right!?" He floats a bit higher at the news. "Please just tell me it's not Vlad! Uh, Plasmius."
"Plasmius?" Frostbite asks, eyebrows crawling higher. "Certainly not! What in the realms - do you truly not know?"
"Oh thank goodness," Danny sighs, sinking back to his usual level. "Not Vlad, okay, one less disastrous possibility. And whoever it is probably already knows they're the king and nothing bad has happened yet so it's probably fine, right?"
He looks back to meet Frostbite's eyes.
"Wait, nothing bad has happened yet, right? Like, is everything okay? I know Pariah caused you guys a lot of grief before; the new guy 's not going around causing trouble for you and you just haven't told me because you're worried about being a bother, right?" He frets, eyes flicking about, searching for fresh injuries on the various members of the welcoming party.
"...No, Great One," Frostbite answers, blinking away the surprised expression to be replaced by something soft. "Though I, and all the Far Frozen, are honored by your concern. While Pariah Dark is no longer the High King of the Infinite Realms, I can assure you, with utmost certainty, that you have nothing to fear from his successor. But I believe we have much more to discuss. Come, let us find somewhere more comfortable to talk - and get your human friends out of the cold."
***
It didn't take them long to reach a sitting room, and soon enough they were all settled into the enormous, fuzzy chairs in one of the warmer rooms available, Danny and Frostbite each with a cup of shaved ice tea while Sam and Tucker were offered beverages warm enough to steam in deference to their need for warmth.
Once everyone had taken a sip - or bite - Danny launched back into his questioning.
"So did Dark have a kid hidden away somewhere or did some kind of council finally decide on his replacement? Actually can ghosts even have - wait right Box Lunch, forgot about that on purpose but never mind. Or is there some fourth option that isn't those or trial by combat that we didn't think of?"
"Before I answer that, Great One, may I ask why you have already discounted trial by combat?" He returns curiously.
"Because if it was trial by combat it would be Vlad - er, Plasmius - and you already said it isn't him."
"Or it could be you," Tucker ribs, waggling his fingers at him.
"We already talked about why it couldn't be me, Tuck," Danny huffs, rolling his eyes and taking another bite of his... smoothie?
"Oh? And why do you think it would be Plasmius?" Frostbite asks.
"Because! I may have fought Pariah Dark, and sure I put him back in the sarcophagus, but I was running on fumes by that point, and he was still slamming around in there! Vlad, as much as I hate to admit it, is the one that turned the key and made sure he stayed locked away. It took almost everything I had to keep him pinned long enough. If...if he'd been even a few seconds later I probably would've died the rest of the way before he even had the time to break out a second time."
"But had you not put him there, no key would have mattered," Frostbite begins quietly. "Plasmius was no match for Pariah Dark; he was defeated in an instant the first time they clashed."
"Well, yeah, but so was I," he protests, not liking the direction the conversation is beginning to take.
"And yet, you alone went to face him a second time. You alone stood against the King of All Ghosts while your armies clashed."
"Our-!? I didn't have- you mean the ghosts that came to help me???" Danny sputtered, incredulous. "They weren't an army they were just-"
He pauses, searching for words that would not come.
"They were just a large group of ghosts who sided with you, who aided you in combat and kept the multitudes distracted while you went to face their leader alone. However you thought of them at the time, whatever they were to you up till then or are to you now, after, in that moment they were your army."
"Danny's totally the ghost king, isn't he?" Sam drawls after the brief silence that follows.
"Indeed," Frostbite answers her, but he looks Danny in the eyes as he does so. "You are the savior of the Ghost Zone, Pariah's Bane. And you are the High King of the Infinite Realms."
"I cheated!" Danny blurts out, shooting up to float above his chair.
"Cheated?" Frostbite's lips twitch as he fights down a smile.
"I had the Fenton Ecto-Skeleton! That's totally cheating! Don't combat trials have to be honorable or something?!" He begs.
Frostbite chuckles.
"I apologize, Great One, but I am afraid there is no such thing as an honorable war," he says, expression briefly turning solemn. "And even if it were, just as you had your "Ecto-Skeleton," did not Pariah have his ring and crown?
You issued a challenge and he answered, your armies clashed while the two of you stood against each other and each other alone; you alone put him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, and you alone held it shut long enough for Plasmius to turn the key.”
Danny drifts back down to his seat as Frostbite speaks, then continues slouching further with every word.
“I am given to understand that Plasmius likes to think of others as pawns on his own personal chessboard,” he says, “But at the time he was but another ghost, come to fight Pariah's army on your behalf - as a member of your army. A pawn, to paraphrase his own words, that you used to topple a king - not through any intentional manipulation, but through the sheer magnetic charisma of your willingness to stand against monsters like Pariah Dark and of your ability to do so. The confidence to stand alongside you that such strength inspires.
He would not have approached if he did not believe you could win - would not risk endangering himself so. At best, you could consider him a referee, calling the match to a close once it was decisively in your favor.
Plasmius may think of existence as a game with himself as the only player, and he may have been acting in his own self-interest overall, but by every measure, in this instance, he was undeniably your piece.
The Zone itself acknowledges your right to rule by the way the crown of fire sits where you left it, unmoving on the floor of Pariah's keep until the day you finally choose to wear it, no matter how many hands may try to move it."
Frostbite's words are slow and measured, but as undeniable as the creeping of a glacier. And by the time they cease, Danny has sunk so far as to end up an undignified heap on the floor before his chair.
The trio remains silent as they absorb his words.
Minutes pass before Danny finally speaks.
"If the crown can't be taken, then how did I get it from Pariah?" He questions, a final hope that Frostbite may be mistaken.
"It will only remain unmoved until you first put it on. After that, it will be up to you whether it stays safe on your head."
Danny groans his despair, final bit of hope shattered.
"I must apologize again, Great One," he says solemnly. "Had I known you were unaware of your station, I would have informed you sooner."
He frowns heavily, looking into the distance thoughtfully.
"The Observants should have informed you long before now."
"Well, that explains it. The Observants hate Danny's guts," Tucker says.
"To neglect their duties for such a reason...," He trails off, his glower highlighting the inhuman nature of his visage.
The trio fidget.
Danny coughs after a few seconds of tense silence.
“Uh, speaking of duties,” he begins, relaxing as Frostbite’s expression smooths back into something kind and polite as he listens, “What exactly does the Ghost King even do? Like. Pariah was locked away for… a long time? I guess. So does the Zone even need a King? Can’t I just, like, resign?”
“I suppose it might seem that way from a younger ghost’s perspective - Pariah has been locked away for millenia, after all, and the Zone is still in one piece.”
Frostbite pauses, leaning back in his seat and taking another bite of his drink.
“However. What you must understand, Great One, is that the problems caused by the absence of a king in the Infinite Realms are not the whirlwind that such a thing would be in the living realm - social order is affected, but the speed of bureaucracy is slower by orders of magnitude in the Realms, and there is not the same level of inter-reliance that the living tend to require - but rather, they are winds and waters sliding against a rock, chipping away at it bit by bit until it is either worn smooth… or the whole structure collapses under its own weight.”
“How does not having a king cause dimensional collapse!?” Tucker shrieks, clutching his cup like a lifeline.
“How long do we have before it collapses?” Sam asks urgently not a second later.
“Oh shit, how long do we have before it collapses???” he echoes, hunching over his cup enough that the steam adds a layer of fog to his glasses.
Danny sits bolt upright, whipping wide eyes away from his friends to join them in staring at Frostbite.
“Total collapse would take millenia more to truly begin,” he placates before taking a more grave expression. “This does not mean that there will not be issues before that point, however; the symptoms of the High King’s absence have begun to show this past millennium. But rest assured, there is time enough to heal the wounds that have been wrought. The only permanent damage would be the collapse itself, and that, as I said, is millenia away.”
“Is… is that why you never mentioned it to me before?” Danny asks, dropping back to the ground in relief. “Because it’s not urgent and you figured I’d just…get to it eventually? Actually, why did you think I knew if you knew that the crown was still in Pariah’s Keep?”
“It is the duty of the Observants to observe, but also, as you have experienced, to oversee - the timeline, trials, the general functioning of the zone. Without a king to report to, much of their ability to act is crippled, of course - their ability to interfere directly with the timeline has always been severely restricted, their options for sentencing are severely reduced, and there are some things the Realms require that only the High King can provide - but one duty remains unaffected: overseeing the ascension of new kings.
Coronations have taken many forms in the past, from a quick swap in the battlefield to a formal ceremony to a celebration that lasted a decade. Given the dark era we are, at last, able to put behind us and the non-urgent nature of even the most severe problems that the Realms are currently affected by, I had assumed that the large delay was in preparation for that last form - the lead-up to a grand celebration.”
“Except instead it’s just them being petty,” Sam notes, sitting back up from her own relieved slouch.
Danny groans, leaving his tea to float and covering his face with his hands.
“Why couldn’t it have just been as easy as shoving Vlad in a box,” he whines.
“I mean, we still can?” Tucker offers, prompting Sam to smack him over the head before pausing consideringly.
“OW!”
“He might be right, actually,” she says, ignoring his exclamation. “Given Vortex’s trial and sentencing, there’s clearly some kind of legal system in the Zone that isn’t just Walker on a power trip. No doubt he’s broken some kind of Actual Realms Law - I’d be surprised if breaking Pariah out like he did wasn’t some form of highly illegal - so you could probably send him to actual Ghost Jail. It’s certainly where he belongs, given all the….”
She makes a vague gesture with her hand in lieu of words.
“That doesn’t resolve the problem of I Don’t Wanna Be A King!” Danny exclaims, sitting back and throwing his hands in the air.
Then he turns to Frostbite, eyes pleading.
“Can’t you be king?” he asks.
Frostbite opens his mouth to reply, but Danny steamrolls over him.
“It makes sense! You already know how to lead people! And your people love you! You already know about all the king stuff too! You’ve beaten me in spars before! We’d just have to go to the keep, I put on the crown, you beat me, and problem solved!”
Frostbite’s smile is a mix of amused and pitying.
“I have only ever beaten you in training spars, Great One, and you and I both know that is largely because they were focused on improving your skill with ice and ice alone. Even if I could defeat you in a true all-out fight as you are, I believe you underestimate the boost granted by the crown of fire.”
“I can just put it on then take it off again before we fight! And we can stick to ice!”
“I’m afraid it is not so simple,” he shakes his head. “If you do not give it your all, the crown - the Realms - will not recognize the transition. The only way to “throw the match” successfully would require your opponent to fully End you: to crush your core and snuff your spirit from the very fabric of existence. I am unwilling to do such a thing, and I sincerely hope you would not ask it of me - or, indeed, of anyone.”
Danny paled enough that he nearly matched his human form in skin tone.
“Right. Let’s… let’s not do that, actually.”
“On the bright side, you can probably weasel ruling tips out of Aquaman in exchange for not declaring war on the Living Realm!” Tucker chirps, aiming to cheer him up.
“I’m not going to threaten the Justice League!” he yelps, scandalized.
“But you probably won’t have to threaten them,” Sam chimes in. “They’re already trying to summon you, you already know their goal is to avoid a war. As long as you don’t ask for anything unreasonable, they should be inclined to give you what you want in exchange for peace.”
“Once you offer peace, they will be invested in your successful rule of their own volition as a means of perpetuating said peace,” Frostbite corrects. “If you would like to set preconditions to an accord you should make them things that will not readily be given as a result of said accord. But before we discuss further, perhaps you can fill me in on why war was a concern in the first place? I believe you mentioned something about papers?”
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Health and Hybrids (VI)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here and this is part six💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts
Where we last left off... Danny and Bart are bros now. The Speedsters chat about the horribly injured entity their kid has decided is like a...pet? Theydk?
Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
Danny wakes up to an unbridled wave of nostopdon’t.
…He rouses. His lungs flutter.
Danny flinches.
There’s something— it’s large and it’s green in a way that humans are not and it’s taller and wider than Danny’s human and the space it makes in Danny’s senses—
The red human Danny is too attached to now buzzes to his bedside, spilling worrywor/rynerv/ous all over Danny’s section of this abandoned hospital. His muscles tighten up to compensate; and when the green not-human adult gets closer, Danny pushes himself forward on his elbows— closer to his vibrating human, closer to a defensive formation.
The green thing moves and Danny can’t see the gesture. He bristles.
And then
Danny’s skull spl
its
down the middle.
Everything hurts and everything is on fire.
Danny screams.
And he screams.
And he screams.
And—
Danny isn’t moving— everything else moves when Danny screams but he isn’t moving— the fast human has gotten even faster and they’re zooming through the building, through rooms and past adult humans that Danny has never seen, and all Danny can do is sink his claws into the human and hope that it stays. That Danny stays. In its arms, and not next to— that.
The fast-buzzing human finds a dark room.
It shoves Danny and itself inside. Good.
They hide.
Even better.
Someone comes to the door, and Danny can feel the frigid heat of a blast forming in his fingers. But it’s only two of the humans Danny has already met. And another young human.
This one has light hair, he thinks. It shines in the light spreading out from the cracked doorway.
They talk and they don’t crowd his space but to be honest Danny would rather they did. There’s something horrible out there, and he knows these humans aren’t that bad and whatever green thing out there certainly is. They should all be safe in this nice dark room.
He makes a grabby hand. Come here. Get closer.
…One of them does. Great! Danny gently bats at it with his knuckles until it joins them underneath the table. Danny puts the buzzing human in front of him and his new human behind him, so that he’s in the middle. There’s layers now. They can’t all get wiped out at once.
Danny makes grabby hands at the other. It makes a huffy sort of vibration. Probably a laugh. Stupid. Doesn’t it notice that they’re in danger??
Danny whips a very sharp comehererightnowbetween them— not lashing, but not gentle. They are in danger. Come here.
Thankfully, the last two obey—Danny’s pretty sure he’s being humored, but that doesn’t matter. Not as long as they’re all under the table. And safe.
The buzzing human’s anxious vibrations slowly move out into a slower, calmer boredom, and that’s fine, because boredom means that it doesn’t think they’re in danger. No one has found them yet and the humans are twitchy and nervous.
One of the darker-dressed humans says something. Danny can’t tell what it says, exactly, but he can turn his head to listen. The words flow around him like water. Someone else murmurs something else.
A human hand bats at Danny’s. Danny flinches. It—is it fighting?? Are they fighting??
They don’t start…hitting. But they keep batting at Danny’s hands, very carefully avoiding his claws, and—oh. They want to play. And they probably want to play quietly, so they’re being smart about not getting caught. Ugh. If Danny had his toys, they wouldn’t be so bored. This is almost worse than boredom.
…Fine. Danny’s claws don’t exactly retract like an animal’s, but they’re not so essential to his being that they’re formed and present all the time. The sharp shapes of his claws shift in the darkness, until they’re only blunt nails: suitable for playing.
All the humans make very excited noises under their breath. It’s all very interesting or something. It can’t be that special. Danny sees other ghosts reshape little bits of themselves all the time.
The quiet human in red gently lifts up Danny’s hands with its own. It gently tosses Danny’s hands in the air, so that they clap together very quietly once they fall down onto its own. Danny lets it happen. They’re this close to him anyway. They’re probably not a threat.
(The real threat is outside, anyway.)
Then his hands get flipped over. The human gently bats its hands against Danny’s, extremely careful not to anger him enough to claw. They do this a couple times before Danny figures the game out.
Oh. It’s a hand game—Danny even knows this one. It’s Ms. Mary Mack. The quiet one whispers the right tune under its breath.
Once Danny knows it, it’s easy to gently follow the motions. He surprises them when he knows the motions as well as they do; his wrists hurt when he goes too fast, or when the human kids do—when they push too hard, Danny makes himself intangible, to their delight—but he can be gentle, and eventually everyone else is gentle, and they carefully plot out Mrs. Mary Mack and a veeeery slow version of Concentration.
It’s all very fun, right up until the Large Green Not-Human pushes itself through the floor.
Danny pulls his hands back, unsheathes his claws, and shrieks.
Everyone yells and everyone gets closer—it’s a defensive formation and that’s good but it’s not enough if he needs space to help defend them—and everything is loud and upsetting and Danny’s already hurt but he can fight and he will—
—Apology, Apology— something whispers, infinitely quieter than the attack Danny had suffered.
He bolts upright. What? Oh, oh no. It wants to talk to him. Danny does not want to talk back. NonononoGoAWAY.
The giant green thing backs off. Danny gets a distinct sensation of —Questions, Answers— sent to him. The feeling is accompanied by a procession of Danny’s own memories: the stars from the base, the container he’d woken up in, his bed nest and all the waste in it.
Danny winces further back under the table. Just because he likes his cot and feels safe in it doesn't mean it isn't gross. It is gross. But everything is going to be gross until all of his insides are actually inside of him again, and not squished up in his more liquid form.
The quickfasthuman darts in front of Danny, as if it is going to be any defense against whatever this creature is, and starts yelling in its little human voice. Danny keens.
—Care, Concern— flows towards him. With it comes Danny’s memories of the buzzing human bandaging him, a flesh-tone bandage stretching across the hole where more of his nose ought to be.
…Danny stills. It’s. That’s.
It’s a very gentle emotion. Maybe the thing is…lying…? But if it was, Danny would be able to feel it. Right?
There are more thoughts and feelings that come by, first very quietly and softly, and then a little too fast to track as the being get ahead of itself. When Danny pulls away, it slows down, and the flow becomes manageable again.
The Earth. Green and peaceful.
Space. —Home. Home—
This base that Danny is on. On it are faces that the green being can see, that Danny can’t— but in its memory it shares, all of them are welcoming and friendly with…their coworker. This being.
(Is this an alien?!)
(The being pauses in its recollection. It feels distinctly —Amused, Amused—. And then Danny gets space memories!! Of Mars!!!)
He carefully eases his claws out of the carpet. Okay. This is pretty cool. Danny’s getting the hang of this.
He (thinks? Successfully?) bounces back a memory of his first room, his first shuttle model of the Atlantis, the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling.
The alien (Alien!!!) treats him to a memory of his own offsprings’ resting places in his home. On Mars.
Danny doesn’t even argue when his buzzing human tries to pick him up. They can break formation. It’s fine. Danny purrs and purrs with his core. For the first time in months and months, someone can speak to him properly. Someone wants to speak to him.
What Danny thinks matters.
The stranger invites Danny into a mutual conversation, and Danny accepts.
Danny sinks himself into a memory of the earth, as seen from the upper atmosphere. The stars were all-encompassing there. He misses flying.
The Martian sends him a memory of a crashed…
…Oh. Danny squeezes further under the table. That’s the Specter Speeder. From the stranger's eyes, his crash into the dirt looks so bad. That’s…that crash hurt him. He’s still hurt. Still so bad.
Even the alien’s —Concern, Fear, Worry— isn’t a comfort.
The Martian replays the memory of the bandaids again. And then a new memory: the laboratory where Danny woke up.
The room was full of nervous humans in scrubs and lab coats, all of whom were nervous, nervous, fussing over problems like safe food and adequate oxygen and sanitary environment and please, please be okay. Danny’s empathy is limited to other empathetic beings, but the humans' thoughts and worried faces are bare and transparently clear to the alien.
…Oh.
Danny thinks of the young humans crowded around him, trying to keep him comfortable and safe, even when the alien knows that the humans know that he isn’t a threat. But that they worry for Danny anyway, because he’s scared and unhappy and in pain.
Oh, Danny thinks. …Oh.
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