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Description
Interstate 142

Amity Park

4 miles

The sign was twisted, rusty, and coated with dirt, but it was by far one of the most comforting things Danny had read in his life. After two weeks of being on the run, it felt good to know it might all be over soon, even if coming here had only been in the vain hope he could find something to help him get back home.

Before he had been captured by the ectoplasm-sucking-Fruitloop, Danny had known a ghost portal was his only chance. His initial search for one had been what led him to the vampire's lab and onto the dinner menu.

He touched down on the dusty side of the highway, white rings reverting him from ghost to human. He would walk the last leg of the joinery on his own two feet, a small price to pay for keeping Hunter off his tracks.

Danny hadn't seen the ghost hunter since the incident with the slime monster a few cities over, but he knew he wasn't out of the woods just yet. His adversary had a nasty habit of surprising him when he least expected it.

He couldn't even stand to let himself think about the sheer craziness of this alternate universe. The whole world overrun with ghosts, Skulker and his other foes fighting together hoof and nail against ghost hunters for the right to live outside the Ghost Zone, not to mention the fucking vampires.

Danny sighed and wrapped his arms around his middle. He just really missed his bed. As soon he got back to his universe, he would give his mom and dad a huge hug then pass out and hopefully think up a good excuse for why he had been missing for a whole week before he had to move again.

Hell, he was even looking forward to his mom's cooking at this point, and that was saying something.

Danny closed his eyes for a moment, only for his eyelids to snap open a second later when the unwanted image of his Hunter filled his imagination. He shivered. He hated that look, the one the older male had given him right before he turned the thermos on him.

Danny knew what the other didn't, how closely they were related. How those cold blue eyes once belonged to him. There had to be something he didn't know, something that explained what exactly went wrong in alternate Danny's life to turn into that…but it wasn't worth staying in this place long enough to find out.

Maybe when he got into Fenton Works, he might find this universe's version of Jazz. She could tell him…well if she actually bought his story, anyway.

Still, she was still a better option than trying to talk with alternate Jack or Maddie. Who knows what a worldwide ghost hunting culture would have done to those two.

At least their son didn't have to worry about getting stuck in the crossfire like he did. Hell, they were probably pleased as peaches about their jerk-ass ghost hunter son. Even went into business with Jack's old college buddy, how fucking prefect.

"I bet he doesn't even know what the Hubble Space Telescope is," Danny muttered, a random comment that would have confused the heck out of anyone who didn't know him very well. It had its purpose though. If he distanced himself from Hunter it was easier for him to hate the older man. Not that that was hard, considering what he had put him through.

A gust of wind kicked up some dust, and Danny shielded his eyes behind a forearm. He glanced back along the highway, raising a curious eyebrow at the empty road behind him. He hadn't been passed by a single car in hours, not that he was trying to hitchhike. He had learned his lesson about that earlier this week.

Still, this level of traffic was completely unnatural, especially mid-afternoon on a Monday. Normally this road was packed at rush-hour. One time he had been stuck in the back of the Fenton RV for two hours, waiting to get back into the city core after a cross-state trip to visit uncle Vlad.

An eerie feeling of apprehension wrapped itself around Danny like a thick blanket. He sped up a little, eyes staring straight ahead.

That's when he saw the first barricade looming over the horizon, a gray monolith of concrete crossing the whole road, solid enough to completely stop even a large truck if it crashed into it. Confusion flashed across Danny's face, but he forced it back, telling himself it must just be some kind of construction project. He had been flying earlier so he must have missed the road closure notice further up the road.

As he drew near, though, his construction theory seemed less and less comforting. The barricade looked even bigger the closer he got and was definitely not temporary. In fact, judging by the graffiti and the crumbling stone on the left side, it had to have been there for years, maybe even a decade.

Behind the concrete barrier an even more distressing sight loomed. A high fence that looked like it encircled the whole city. Unable to wait until he got close enough to figure out what was going on, Danny transformed, keeping his head down until he reached the wall.

An old looking booth was to his left, some kind of place to house a guard on duty. It must have been backup security to make sure no one crossed the fence. Whoever had been stationed there no longer seemed to have that responsibility though because the booth was empty. Its windows busted.

Danny was more concerned with what was right in front of him, though, on the fence.

Laminated pictures of men, woman, and children. Letters and stories. Real flowers that had shriveled in the sun alongside unnaturally perfect plastic ones. All centered around a large bronze plaque that stretched across the fence for far too long, baring an alphabetical list of names.

Danny's heart slipped and dropped into his stomach, his mouth as dry as the dirt surrounding him, alone on this empty highway. Standing In the same spot as countless loved ones who had visited, pausing for a moment to think about the ones they had lost. This place was a memorial.

He shouldn't check. He really, really, shouldn't check.

Danny's heart pounded against his ribcage as he scrolled down the list, a gloved finger hovering over the names, trying his best to hold still even as his body trembled.

Sarah Fenly

Ashley Fenlon

Jodi Fenrich

Maddie Fen-

Danny pulled away like he had been stung. He didn't need to read anymore, he had already seen all three names lumped together in a sea of letters. Maddie Fenton, Jack Fenton and Jazz Fenton…

Danny took a huge step back, physically trying to distance himself from this new information. They weren't his parents and that wasn't his sister. This wasn't his world. He belonged back in his universe in his own timeline..

After taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Danny was able to think logically again, once more having to reevaluate everything he knew about this reality.

Well, that explained why Hunter worked for Vlad. Not the first time the fruit loop jumped at his chance to adopt the youngest Fenton… but if Hunter lived with Vlad, that would mean that he couldn't have stayed with one of his friends… because…

Spurred to action again Danny quickly re-checked the board, scrolling the M's and the F's. He sat down heavily on the concrete divider as he came back with his suspicions confirmed.

Fuck, this was the Dan Phantom incident all over again.

But this time it wasn't just a sauce explosion, whatever had happened here was much more devastating than Danny could even wrap his head around.

He buried his head in his hands, wishing with all his heart he could just teleport back home in an instant and shove this whole week into some dark corner of his mind to be retrieved by some therapist at a later date. Likely after he went totally bonkers.

Danny sighed and focused his eyes forward, lowering his hands slowly, practically glaring at the memorial. He did not travel this far to get stopped at the gate.

After running and hiding all the way from Wisconsin, he would be dammed if he didn't at least check to see if he couldn't find a ghost portal. Even if it meant walking through the rubble of his hometown and waking up the steps of a deserted Fenton works.

Green eyes hard with newfound determination, Danny stepped up to the fence and passed through the bronze plate and out into the wasteland beyond, floating a few feet above the ground to avoid getting his feet stuck in the rubble littering the ground. Danny kept his eyes fixed forward as the tops of the tallest buildings in Amity came into view. The shiny glass lining the sides of one skyscraper was smashed along the length of the whole building. On another, the top of the building was removed entirely, exposing thick support beams that stuck into the sky like bony fingers stripped of flesh.

Danny casts his eyes to the ground, keeping them there as he picked up speed, the wind whipping through his hair as tried to keep his heart beating at a normal rate, repeating in his head that this wasn't his timeline, not his life, this wasn't his fault.

Even as he headed into the city core, though, his spinning thoughts had already forgotten the tracker that was locked into his location, transmitting it to the man who's timeline this was, whose life this was, and who till this day still blamed himself for what happened to his sister, his mother his father and his best friends.

****

The key slipped out of the ignition with a hollow click. The black bike's rider slid from its seat and onto the sandy dirt, hanging the pair of goggles than had been protecting his eyes on the handlebars of his bike. The dust had gotten unbearable when he had left the paved road a few miles back, but he didn't need them from this point onwards.

In front of him was the large barbed wire fence that surrounded the ruins of Amity Park, locking it down in the same way you might quarantine a city hit by a nuclear explosion to prevent any exposure to the lingering radiation.

There had been some whispers about ectoplasmic contamination, but that was just a cover story. With the new need for an ecto-defense budget, the already strapped-for-cash government hadn't been able to put aside the spare billion dollars it would take to rebuild, much less the publicity it would take to convince people to even consider living in the city again.

Besides, the disaster area made for a good backdrop for documentary makers, news crews, and politicians, who all seemed to have a brand new take on the disaster every couple of months. Hunter bristled just thinking about it, all of it was so pointless.

Hunter kneeled down beside the fence, eyeing the small hole between the bottom of the fence and the ground. There was a little opening he had created here from a combination of digging under the fence and using bolt cutters to pull some of the metal back. In total it was just wide enough for a slender teenage boy. He was almost surprised he was still able to find the hole after all these years, but apparently the memory of his first visit to the ruins was still vivid enough that he could retrace his steps.

He paused a second to contemplate whether he should go in feet or head first, but the sharp points convinced him to test it out with his boots before risking an eye injury. Inch by inch, he slid forward, waiting to make sure his hips fit before closing his eyes and ducking under the metal.

Halfway through the movement, something caught, but he didn't stop long enough to fix it. The ripping sound registered as he stood up. He glanced at the tear that split open the side of his long coat. He could already hear Vlad in his head, chastising him for his impractical outfit.

He was too preoccupied to think of it any longer though, and it couldn't be helped anyway. He turned his back on his bike and double checked his weapons. Today he was packing small arms, fit for stealth only. He needed to make sure he saw Phantom before the ghost saw him.

A brief glance at his wrist communicator told him that Phantom was a half mile away, heading northeast. It didn't look like he was leaving the city though. Hunter growled under his breath and started walking, finding his way surprisingly well by landmarks alone. Although in a place like this the landmarks were something to remember.

The low hum of anger buzzed incessantly like a hive of bees hovering above his shoulder, the emotions held back only by Hunter's own determination. He would be damned to the ninth circle of hell before he let Phantom escape him again.

"This is your last mistake, Phantom," he growled, trying to overlook how he was talking to himself again. His therapist had warned him about that. "Nowhere to hide now…and no innocents to cower behind."

Hunter ducked under the barrel of a tank that had been flipped completely sideways and torn in half along the belly. Seventy-five tons of human engineering tossed in the air and broken like a plastic toy. Hunter shook his head, turning away. Once he had made excuses, said that if this or that hadn't happened, Amity wouldn't have fallen. But no matter what had been said or done, they still wouldn't have been ready. Not for something like this.

Even if every tank in the States and every gun in the world aimed at just a single ghost, the ghost would still win.

They had powers no one had ever seen before, and the only people who knew how to defend against them were the laughingstocks of the city until the very second it was too late.

Not that they hadn't tried of course. They wouldn't have ever given up. If only he had said something, stopped them from leaving. Hunter's fist clenched, catching himself before he could go on. His therapist was always telling him to be wary of his "why" place and his "maybe" place. Those thoughts were unproductive, only brought pain.

What kind of ghost hunter would he be if he let his prey escape because he couldn't handle one little ruin? Hell, that was probably Phantom's plan. He probably thought hiding here would keep him safe, the one place that he thought was too painful for Hunter to return to.

He was wrong though, dead wrong. He would not fail again, not here. The only thing Phantom had achieved was reminding Hunter why ghosts like him needed to be eliminated.

Hunter breathed in deeply. The smell of melted metal and gunpowder still hung in the air. It was heaven compared to what he remembered about the inside of the city. Most of the bodies had been removed to be given proper burials by their remaining families, but the stench of death still lingered.

The cold oppressive silence here spoke louder than words, and Hunter found himself wrapping his arms around his front, a sudden cold feeling biting at his extremities. He shivered and picked up his pace, switching to cradling one of his guns instead.

He glanced up at the sky, noting that the sun would be setting soon. Darkness would conceal him but it wasn't worth waiting until it came. He couldn't wait that long. His need for revenge rushed through his veins like blood and at that moment he didn't think he would have stopped even if the world ended right there and then. Not that Amity could look any worse if it did…

*****

The ghost boy rested his head in his hands, the sky above him tinted pink as the sunset cast eerie shadows on the ruins that only barely resembled the street where he had grown up. The front steps he sat on were chipped and dusty and the right side had completely crumbled away.

Danny felt like someone had scoped out his insides with a melon baller and then thrown away the empty shell. Numb and empty, but still in a small measure of pain. He wrapped his arms around his front and exhaled deeply.

The trek through what was left of Fenton Works had completely drained him emotionally and he couldn't find the energy to move right now, maybe not for a while. The portal was smashed beyond recognition. If he didn't know exactly where it was he would have thought it was just a collapsed wall. If it ever had worked in the universe, it no longer worked now.

Danny was never very good at recovering after his hopes had been crushed, especially not in a forsaken place like this. He knew that he should move on. It was nagging at him, telling him that he couldn't stop, he should never stop. His brain was too full of worrying and stress to make the effort, though.

His will to do much of anything wouldn't fully return to him until the very moment when he was shoved against the splintered front door of Fenton Works with the barrel of a pistol jammed under his chin.

****

Hunter breathed out slowly, every facet of his attention trained on Phantom. He looked so frightened, green eyes open all the way, trembling softly in his hold. It didn't help that he looked so young too. If he were human he wouldn't even be out of high school yet.

How had one little ghost gotten so much power? One careless teen that could flatten a metropolis before it even know what hit it.

Gods, he was beautiful though. Hunter hated that thought, but there it was. Just having his hands on him made his heart hammer against his ribcage like he had been running a marathon. Ghosts were his life, in more ways than even he realized. They had taken everything away from him, but he couldn't help but be fascinated by their existence. He wanted to study them, talk to them, love them.

Why did they have to be so wicked, why did they have to destroy everything they touched.

It just wasn't fair.

Phantom was no doubt sensing his indecision, left hanging on the end of a pistol while the wielder fought his inner demons. Hunter had to act. For all he knew, Phantom was about to unleash his sound wave attack. At this distance that would kill him, defensive amulet or not.

His finger tightened around the trigger and Phantom's gloved hands grasped his wrist. It wasn't a counter move like Hunter had expected, though. It was more desperate, more clinging than forceful. His lips parted. "What…what happened here?" the boy asked, his voice carrying the familiar tremble. "What happened to Amity…Please?"

Hunter flinched, almost dropping the gun. Why would a ghost care about that? More importantly how did he not know? Every other specter lorded over their first major win against human kind. Many chose to rub it in his face even as he was choking them under the heel of his combat boots.

Then Hunter's eyes narrowed. The forearm pressed against Phantom's throat pushed down harder on his windpipe. Phantom was mocking him. That's why he had come here, wasn't it? To make him face his past, to distract him. Now he was acting like a scared child. The scared child he had been. Mimicking him in hopes to trigger a painful flashback. Many of his enemies had tried to use his history to hurt him… but this, this was beyond the pale.

Stupid rotting filthy stinking ball of putrid ecto—

BANG

Hunter's hand withdrew, his mind reeling as he tried to piece together what had just happened. The ghost teen slumped against the door and Hunter released him in a panic. The human took a step back, nearly tripping over the steps.

Oh god no… Please don't tell me I killed him…

Hunter covered his eyes, shutting out the world as his head spun, not willing to let himself look. Something cold and sticky stung his cheek. Ectoplasm, it had to be ectoplasm.

No, no, no, no, no…

Hunter's eyes shot open as he heard a low groan of pain. That…That wasn't him… so Phantom… Phantom was…

Well "alive" was the wrong word, but y'know.

When Hunter opened his eyes he saw the wound on Phantom's forehead, putting it together with the green ectoplasm on the barrel of his gun, realizing what must have happened.

A pistol was never the best thing to use as a bludgeon, but apparently it got the job done this time.

Hunter sunk his teeth into his lip, relief over Phantom's relative aliveness quickly replaced by guilt. That had been completely uncalled for, not to mention the complete antithesis of all his goals… and Phantom. Poor phantom…

The worst of it was that the ghost boy hadn't been knocked out. He was lying on the dirty front steps, hands over his wound, overcome with pain and unable to move.

Hunter fumbled with his belt, his fingers taking far too long to find the Fenton Thermos he had strapped to his hip. Phantom would heal, but he would do it much faster if he was forced to abandon his physical form.

And even with this lapse in judgment Hunter still had a mission…

A flash of light and Phantom was gone, only a blinking light on the console to indicate he was still there at all.

Hunter released a breath, casting an eye over the deserted landscape. He needed to get out of here, the sooner the better. If he made a beeline for his base, he could make it before the sun rose if he didn't stop to sleep… not that sleeping was a possibility after that ordeal.

He glanced down at the thermos in his hands and started back the way he had come. He had expected his success to taste sweeter than this.

At least it was over now.

Description
Interstate 142

Amity Park

4 miles

The sign was twisted, rusty, and coated with dirt, but it was by far one of the most comforting things Danny had read in his life. After two weeks of being on the run, it felt good to know it might all be over soon, even if coming here had only been in the vain hope he could find something to help him get back home.

Before he had been captured by the ectoplasm-sucking-Fruitloop, Danny had known a ghost portal was his only chance. His initial search for one had been what led him to the vampire's lab and onto the dinner menu.

He touched down on the dusty side of the highway, white rings reverting him from ghost to human. He would walk the last leg of the joinery on his own two feet, a small price to pay for keeping Hunter off his tracks.

Danny hadn't seen the ghost hunter since the incident with the slime monster a few cities over, but he knew he wasn't out of the woods just yet. His adversary had a nasty habit of surprising him when he least expected it.

He couldn't even stand to let himself think about the sheer craziness of this alternate universe. The whole world overrun with ghosts, Skulker and his other foes fighting together hoof and nail against ghost hunters for the right to live outside the Ghost Zone, not to mention the fucking vampires.

Danny sighed and wrapped his arms around his middle. He just really missed his bed. As soon he got back to his universe, he would give his mom and dad a huge hug then pass out and hopefully think up a good excuse for why he had been missing for a whole week before he had to move again.

Hell, he was even looking forward to his mom's cooking at this point, and that was saying something.

Danny closed his eyes for a moment, only for his eyelids to snap open a second later when the unwanted image of his Hunter filled his imagination. He shivered. He hated that look, the one the older male had given him right before he turned the thermos on him.

Danny knew what the other didn't, how closely they were related. How those cold blue eyes once belonged to him. There had to be something he didn't know, something that explained what exactly went wrong in alternate Danny's life to turn into that…but it wasn't worth staying in this place long enough to find out.

Maybe when he got into Fenton Works, he might find this universe's version of Jazz. She could tell him…well if she actually bought his story, anyway.

Still, she was still a better option than trying to talk with alternate Jack or Maddie. Who knows what a worldwide ghost hunting culture would have done to those two.

At least their son didn't have to worry about getting stuck in the crossfire like he did. Hell, they were probably pleased as peaches about their jerk-ass ghost hunter son. Even went into business with Jack's old college buddy, how fucking prefect.

"I bet he doesn't even know what the Hubble Space Telescope is," Danny muttered, a random comment that would have confused the heck out of anyone who didn't know him very well. It had its purpose though. If he distanced himself from Hunter it was easier for him to hate the older man. Not that that was hard, considering what he had put him through.

A gust of wind kicked up some dust, and Danny shielded his eyes behind a forearm. He glanced back along the highway, raising a curious eyebrow at the empty road behind him. He hadn't been passed by a single car in hours, not that he was trying to hitchhike. He had learned his lesson about that earlier this week.

Still, this level of traffic was completely unnatural, especially mid-afternoon on a Monday. Normally this road was packed at rush-hour. One time he had been stuck in the back of the Fenton RV for two hours, waiting to get back into the city core after a cross-state trip to visit uncle Vlad.

An eerie feeling of apprehension wrapped itself around Danny like a thick blanket. He sped up a little, eyes staring straight ahead.

That's when he saw the first barricade looming over the horizon, a gray monolith of concrete crossing the whole road, solid enough to completely stop even a large truck if it crashed into it. Confusion flashed across Danny's face, but he forced it back, telling himself it must just be some kind of construction project. He had been flying earlier so he must have missed the road closure notice further up the road.

As he drew near, though, his construction theory seemed less and less comforting. The barricade looked even bigger the closer he got and was definitely not temporary. In fact, judging by the graffiti and the crumbling stone on the left side, it had to have been there for years, maybe even a decade.

Behind the concrete barrier an even more distressing sight loomed. A high fence that looked like it encircled the whole city. Unable to wait until he got close enough to figure out what was going on, Danny transformed, keeping his head down until he reached the wall.

An old looking booth was to his left, some kind of place to house a guard on duty. It must have been backup security to make sure no one crossed the fence. Whoever had been stationed there no longer seemed to have that responsibility though because the booth was empty. Its windows busted.

Danny was more concerned with what was right in front of him, though, on the fence.

Laminated pictures of men, woman, and children. Letters and stories. Real flowers that had shriveled in the sun alongside unnaturally perfect plastic ones. All centered around a large bronze plaque that stretched across the fence for far too long, baring an alphabetical list of names.

Danny's heart slipped and dropped into his stomach, his mouth as dry as the dirt surrounding him, alone on this empty highway. Standing In the same spot as countless loved ones who had visited, pausing for a moment to think about the ones they had lost. This place was a memorial.

He shouldn't check. He really, really, shouldn't check.

Danny's heart pounded against his ribcage as he scrolled down the list, a gloved finger hovering over the names, trying his best to hold still even as his body trembled.

Sarah Fenly

Ashley Fenlon

Jodi Fenrich

Maddie Fen-

Danny pulled away like he had been stung. He didn't need to read anymore, he had already seen all three names lumped together in a sea of letters. Maddie Fenton, Jack Fenton and Jazz Fenton…

Danny took a huge step back, physically trying to distance himself from this new information. They weren't his parents and that wasn't his sister. This wasn't his world. He belonged back in his universe in his own timeline..

After taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Danny was able to think logically again, once more having to reevaluate everything he knew about this reality.

Well, that explained why Hunter worked for Vlad. Not the first time the fruit loop jumped at his chance to adopt the youngest Fenton… but if Hunter lived with Vlad, that would mean that he couldn't have stayed with one of his friends… because…

Spurred to action again Danny quickly re-checked the board, scrolling the M's and the F's. He sat down heavily on the concrete divider as he came back with his suspicions confirmed.

Fuck, this was the Dan Phantom incident all over again.

But this time it wasn't just a sauce explosion, whatever had happened here was much more devastating than Danny could even wrap his head around.

He buried his head in his hands, wishing with all his heart he could just teleport back home in an instant and shove this whole week into some dark corner of his mind to be retrieved by some therapist at a later date. Likely after he went totally bonkers.

Danny sighed and focused his eyes forward, lowering his hands slowly, practically glaring at the memorial. He did not travel this far to get stopped at the gate.

After running and hiding all the way from Wisconsin, he would be dammed if he didn't at least check to see if he couldn't find a ghost portal. Even if it meant walking through the rubble of his hometown and waking up the steps of a deserted Fenton works.

Green eyes hard with newfound determination, Danny stepped up to the fence and passed through the bronze plate and out into the wasteland beyond, floating a few feet above the ground to avoid getting his feet stuck in the rubble littering the ground. Danny kept his eyes fixed forward as the tops of the tallest buildings in Amity came into view. The shiny glass lining the sides of one skyscraper was smashed along the length of the whole building. On another, the top of the building was removed entirely, exposing thick support beams that stuck into the sky like bony fingers stripped of flesh.

Danny casts his eyes to the ground, keeping them there as he picked up speed, the wind whipping through his hair as tried to keep his heart beating at a normal rate, repeating in his head that this wasn't his timeline, not his life, this wasn't his fault.

Even as he headed into the city core, though, his spinning thoughts had already forgotten the tracker that was locked into his location, transmitting it to the man who's timeline this was, whose life this was, and who till this day still blamed himself for what happened to his sister, his mother his father and his best friends.

****

The key slipped out of the ignition with a hollow click. The black bike's rider slid from its seat and onto the sandy dirt, hanging the pair of goggles than had been protecting his eyes on the handlebars of his bike. The dust had gotten unbearable when he had left the paved road a few miles back, but he didn't need them from this point onwards.

In front of him was the large barbed wire fence that surrounded the ruins of Amity Park, locking it down in the same way you might quarantine a city hit by a nuclear explosion to prevent any exposure to the lingering radiation.

There had been some whispers about ectoplasmic contamination, but that was just a cover story. With the new need for an ecto-defense budget, the already strapped-for-cash government hadn't been able to put aside the spare billion dollars it would take to rebuild, much less the publicity it would take to convince people to even consider living in the city again.

Besides, the disaster area made for a good backdrop for documentary makers, news crews, and politicians, who all seemed to have a brand new take on the disaster every couple of months. Hunter bristled just thinking about it, all of it was so pointless.

Hunter kneeled down beside the fence, eyeing the small hole between the bottom of the fence and the ground. There was a little opening he had created here from a combination of digging under the fence and using bolt cutters to pull some of the metal back. In total it was just wide enough for a slender teenage boy. He was almost surprised he was still able to find the hole after all these years, but apparently the memory of his first visit to the ruins was still vivid enough that he could retrace his steps.

He paused a second to contemplate whether he should go in feet or head first, but the sharp points convinced him to test it out with his boots before risking an eye injury. Inch by inch, he slid forward, waiting to make sure his hips fit before closing his eyes and ducking under the metal.

Halfway through the movement, something caught, but he didn't stop long enough to fix it. The ripping sound registered as he stood up. He glanced at the tear that split open the side of his long coat. He could already hear Vlad in his head, chastising him for his impractical outfit.

He was too preoccupied to think of it any longer though, and it couldn't be helped anyway. He turned his back on his bike and double checked his weapons. Today he was packing small arms, fit for stealth only. He needed to make sure he saw Phantom before the ghost saw him.

A brief glance at his wrist communicator told him that Phantom was a half mile away, heading northeast. It didn't look like he was leaving the city though. Hunter growled under his breath and started walking, finding his way surprisingly well by landmarks alone. Although in a place like this the landmarks were something to remember.

The low hum of anger buzzed incessantly like a hive of bees hovering above his shoulder, the emotions held back only by Hunter's own determination. He would be damned to the ninth circle of hell before he let Phantom escape him again.

"This is your last mistake, Phantom," he growled, trying to overlook how he was talking to himself again. His therapist had warned him about that. "Nowhere to hide now…and no innocents to cower behind."

Hunter ducked under the barrel of a tank that had been flipped completely sideways and torn in half along the belly. Seventy-five tons of human engineering tossed in the air and broken like a plastic toy. Hunter shook his head, turning away. Once he had made excuses, said that if this or that hadn't happened, Amity wouldn't have fallen. But no matter what had been said or done, they still wouldn't have been ready. Not for something like this.

Even if every tank in the States and every gun in the world aimed at just a single ghost, the ghost would still win.

They had powers no one had ever seen before, and the only people who knew how to defend against them were the laughingstocks of the city until the very second it was too late.

Not that they hadn't tried of course. They wouldn't have ever given up. If only he had said something, stopped them from leaving. Hunter's fist clenched, catching himself before he could go on. His therapist was always telling him to be wary of his "why" place and his "maybe" place. Those thoughts were unproductive, only brought pain.

What kind of ghost hunter would he be if he let his prey escape because he couldn't handle one little ruin? Hell, that was probably Phantom's plan. He probably thought hiding here would keep him safe, the one place that he thought was too painful for Hunter to return to.

He was wrong though, dead wrong. He would not fail again, not here. The only thing Phantom had achieved was reminding Hunter why ghosts like him needed to be eliminated.

Hunter breathed in deeply. The smell of melted metal and gunpowder still hung in the air. It was heaven compared to what he remembered about the inside of the city. Most of the bodies had been removed to be given proper burials by their remaining families, but the stench of death still lingered.

The cold oppressive silence here spoke louder than words, and Hunter found himself wrapping his arms around his front, a sudden cold feeling biting at his extremities. He shivered and picked up his pace, switching to cradling one of his guns instead.

He glanced up at the sky, noting that the sun would be setting soon. Darkness would conceal him but it wasn't worth waiting until it came. He couldn't wait that long. His need for revenge rushed through his veins like blood and at that moment he didn't think he would have stopped even if the world ended right there and then. Not that Amity could look any worse if it did…

*****

The ghost boy rested his head in his hands, the sky above him tinted pink as the sunset cast eerie shadows on the ruins that only barely resembled the street where he had grown up. The front steps he sat on were chipped and dusty and the right side had completely crumbled away.

Danny felt like someone had scoped out his insides with a melon baller and then thrown away the empty shell. Numb and empty, but still in a small measure of pain. He wrapped his arms around his front and exhaled deeply.

The trek through what was left of Fenton Works had completely drained him emotionally and he couldn't find the energy to move right now, maybe not for a while. The portal was smashed beyond recognition. If he didn't know exactly where it was he would have thought it was just a collapsed wall. If it ever had worked in the universe, it no longer worked now.

Danny was never very good at recovering after his hopes had been crushed, especially not in a forsaken place like this. He knew that he should move on. It was nagging at him, telling him that he couldn't stop, he should never stop. His brain was too full of worrying and stress to make the effort, though.

His will to do much of anything wouldn't fully return to him until the very moment when he was shoved against the splintered front door of Fenton Works with the barrel of a pistol jammed under his chin.

****

Hunter breathed out slowly, every facet of his attention trained on Phantom. He looked so frightened, green eyes open all the way, trembling softly in his hold. It didn't help that he looked so young too. If he were human he wouldn't even be out of high school yet.

How had one little ghost gotten so much power? One careless teen that could flatten a metropolis before it even know what hit it.

Gods, he was beautiful though. Hunter hated that thought, but there it was. Just having his hands on him made his heart hammer against his ribcage like he had been running a marathon. Ghosts were his life, in more ways than even he realized. They had taken everything away from him, but he couldn't help but be fascinated by their existence. He wanted to study them, talk to them, love them.

Why did they have to be so wicked, why did they have to destroy everything they touched.

It just wasn't fair.

Phantom was no doubt sensing his indecision, left hanging on the end of a pistol while the wielder fought his inner demons. Hunter had to act. For all he knew, Phantom was about to unleash his sound wave attack. At this distance that would kill him, defensive amulet or not.

His finger tightened around the trigger and Phantom's gloved hands grasped his wrist. It wasn't a counter move like Hunter had expected, though. It was more desperate, more clinging than forceful. His lips parted. "What…what happened here?" the boy asked, his voice carrying the familiar tremble. "What happened to Amity…Please?"

Hunter flinched, almost dropping the gun. Why would a ghost care about that? More importantly how did he not know? Every other specter lorded over their first major win against human kind. Many chose to rub it in his face even as he was choking them under the heel of his combat boots.

Then Hunter's eyes narrowed. The forearm pressed against Phantom's throat pushed down harder on his windpipe. Phantom was mocking him. That's why he had come here, wasn't it? To make him face his past, to distract him. Now he was acting like a scared child. The scared child he had been. Mimicking him in hopes to trigger a painful flashback. Many of his enemies had tried to use his history to hurt him… but this, this was beyond the pale.

Stupid rotting filthy stinking ball of putrid ecto—

BANG

Hunter's hand withdrew, his mind reeling as he tried to piece together what had just happened. The ghost teen slumped against the door and Hunter released him in a panic. The human took a step back, nearly tripping over the steps.

Oh god no… Please don't tell me I killed him…

Hunter covered his eyes, shutting out the world as his head spun, not willing to let himself look. Something cold and sticky stung his cheek. Ectoplasm, it had to be ectoplasm.

No, no, no, no, no…

Hunter's eyes shot open as he heard a low groan of pain. That…That wasn't him… so Phantom… Phantom was…

Well "alive" was the wrong word, but y'know.

When Hunter opened his eyes he saw the wound on Phantom's forehead, putting it together with the green ectoplasm on the barrel of his gun, realizing what must have happened.

A pistol was never the best thing to use as a bludgeon, but apparently it got the job done this time.

Hunter sunk his teeth into his lip, relief over Phantom's relative aliveness quickly replaced by guilt. That had been completely uncalled for, not to mention the complete antithesis of all his goals… and Phantom. Poor phantom…

The worst of it was that the ghost boy hadn't been knocked out. He was lying on the dirty front steps, hands over his wound, overcome with pain and unable to move.

Hunter fumbled with his belt, his fingers taking far too long to find the Fenton Thermos he had strapped to his hip. Phantom would heal, but he would do it much faster if he was forced to abandon his physical form.

And even with this lapse in judgment Hunter still had a mission…

A flash of light and Phantom was gone, only a blinking light on the console to indicate he was still there at all.

Hunter released a breath, casting an eye over the deserted landscape. He needed to get out of here, the sooner the better. If he made a beeline for his base, he could make it before the sun rose if he didn't stop to sleep… not that sleeping was a possibility after that ordeal.

He glanced down at the thermos in his hands and started back the way he had come. He had expected his success to taste sweeter than this.

At least it was over now.