Chapter Text
As soon as he had returned to his room, he sat down on his bed and bored holes into the floor as he thought about the encounter, an odd mixture of numbness and agitation preventing him from winding down properly. It occurred to him suddenly that that was the longest conversation he’d had with his mother since… he couldn’t even remember when they’d talked that long.
A knock on the door had him nearly jumping out of his skin. He clumsily slid off the bed, looked around like he had something he needed to hide, then finally asked who was at the door.
“It’s me,” Maddie said.
He paled, clenching and unclenching his fists as he panickedly tried to decide what to do. What could she possibly want?
“Y-Yeah?”
“Can I come in?”
Why did she want to come in? What did she want? He looked around again, although for what, he wasn’t sure. He had the strangest urge to hide. “Yeah…”
She peeked the door open first, and another jolt of panic hit him when he realized he was just standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. He thought to sit on the bed or at his desk, but would she notice him rushing across the room? What would she think he was doing? He stopped himself, taking a few, intentional breaths to calm down. He reminded himself that she had no reason to be suspicious of him, even if the timing of her visit was uncanny.
He remained where he was as she finally, slowly stepped inside, standing in front of the door like she hadn’t been invited in.
“What’s up?” he asked, moving to cross his arms and stopping short with a wince when the sling reminded him of the limits of his human form.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said softly, standing stiffly and close to herself and looking around, eyes glancing underneath his bed at the suitcase. “You still haven't unpacked?”
“Oh I just… no, not completely.”
“Did Jazz help you set up your computer?” she asked, gesturing with a nod at it.
“Yeah,” he lied, winced at himself. Why did he lie about that?
“That was sweet of her,” she said. “How’s your arm? Have you done your exercises today?”
He shifted, unconsciously tilting the arm away from her. “Not uh–no, not yet. I was gonna do that, but you uh, you knocked.”
“Do you need help?” she offered.
He shook his head.
She smiled awkwardly at him, taking a breath that raised her shoulders. “Well, I’m sorry I interrupted your exercise, I just wanted to check up on you.”
“Oh, okay. Well. Thanks,” he said, feeling slightly relieved.
“I also wanted to see…” she started, stepping into the room further, his heart sinking as she did. “I wanted to talk.”
He worked to quell the anxiety building up. Why did she want to talk now ? What had he done as Phantom? He worried the hem of his shirt.
“About what?” he asked, hoping it was maybe unrelated and just strange timing.
She inhaled again, clasping her hands together in front of herself. “I want to talk about your dad.”
He paled, stomach twisting upside down and he subconsciously, fractionally shook his head. “We don’t have to.”
“It’s important,” she insisted.
His legs twitched with the desire to leave. The room was too hot, the air itself pressing on him and his stomach churned with displeasure. He tried to focus on that nauseous feeling for a second, hoping that it would afford him an excuse to avoid the conversation.
She crossed the room and sat on his bed, offering the place next to her with a pat.
He hesitated, but only for a split second, sitting as though a third person was between them while still complying with his mother’s wish.
He saw her notice the distance and berated himself for the frown it drew from her.
“I know this seems out of the blue. And I suppose it is,” she admitted, looking at her knees. “But it occurred to me that we haven’t talked since… Since what Jack did. Since before what Jack did.”
He stared at the floor, mentally recoiling into himself in trepidation for where she was going with this.
“So much has been going on and has happened and I’ve been so busy trying to undo my mistake that I’ve been making more.”
He pressed his brows together, recalling her mentioning mistakes on the roof.
“I want to apologize to you,” she said.
His confused frown deepened.
She tilted her head down towards him, trying to gauge his expression, but gave up when he continued to stare rigidly at the floor.
“I have so, so many things to apologize for. I let you down in ways I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for. I should’ve stepped in sooner with your father. I just didn’t think he was even capable of that.” Her voice got constricted, but she carried on resolutely. “And I kept letting you down, because all that time you were going through that… I never knew and I didn’t ask.”
Rebuttals and apologies echoed and begged to be released, but he sat still, clenching the edge of the bed and locking his gaze to the floor. Just another freedom Vlad had stolen from him.
Or he had stolen from himself.
“And I’ve been distracting myself since we got here because I’ve been terrified to ask you. But I owe it to you.”
The paralysis broke as alarm bells rang in his mind.
“I want to be here for you in the way I wasn’t before. I want you to feel like you can talk to me. So, Danny… what do you want me to know?”
He finally met her gaze, slack jawed, and focused entirely on the ache in his chest. It wasn’t fair. The list of things he wanted her to know was too long.
Even Phantom had more freedom to speak to her than he did.
“Anything at all,” she offered.
“I... I don’t know.”
Her brows drew downwards, thoughtful. “I... you know I won't... judge you or... you know everything your father did wasn't your fault... don't you?"
He didn't answer; didn't even respond, just kept his fists clenched on the edge of the bed. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to do this. He had already had to be cruel to Jazz. He didn't want to be cruel to his mom, too and if she kept digging like Jazz had...
He had to derail her.
"I-I know," Danny managed, glancing up at her. "I will..."
She looked at him, eager, hopeful.
"Tell you... if there's anything, um... I'll tell you," he finished flatly, casting a few nervous glances at her before looking down at the floor again.
She frowned, a little dismayed, but nodded and said, "I understand if you don’t feel comfortable talking about things yet. And I won’t rush you. But don’t hesitate to talk to me, okay? Anytime. Day or night.”
Tension started trickling out of him, hopeful that he had managed to derail the conversation without having to say anything potentially damaging.
“There’s something I want you to know, though, Danny.”
At her pause, he carefully looked up towards her face, although he wouldn’t make eye contact with her.
“I will be here for you,” she said, eyes welling at the corners. “And I am so, so sorry I let you down.”
He shook his head, the only form of debate he felt capable of expressing. Without telling her the whole truth, how could she not believe it was her fault? He’d set it up that way.
She touched his arm and felt her tense at his stony reception before pulling away softly.
He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to speak, to say anything , but he couldn’t find the words. He couldn’t accept an apology he didn’t deserve and he couldn’t apologize for what he couldn’t explain.
She wiped her eyes, clearing her throat and giving him a smile he didn’t acknowledge. "Sleep well, Danny. Knock if you need... anything, okay?"
Giving his knee a squeeze, she stood up from the bed and started to leave the room.
He wanted to say something to her; anything, but spent so much time debating on what he could possibly say to any of that, she had left the room before he could think of anything.
In his solitude, he felt suffocated by shame and guilt. He had dragged her here, despite her apparently hating it here nearly as much as he did, ripped their family apart to include chasing Jazz off, and now he was doing the same to her. Except unlike Jazz, it felt like what he was doing to his mom was slower, crueler.
Tears pricked at his eyes again, but he harshly rubbed them away, letting out a ragged breath and fighting to regain some composure. He still felt nauseous, but now he had a headache as well.
The door opening abruptly interrupted his solitude.
“Daniel,” Vlad greeted casually.
Shaking away the surprise of his uninvited and equally unwanted visitor, Danny glared at him. “Go away.”
“I’ve come to review your studies,” he said, gaze landing on the untouched bookshelf. “But I see you chose to waste my time.”
“Just go away,” Danny muttered, knowing he wouldn't but refusing to let him just waltz in without some kind of resistance.
“Is that how your father handled your disobedience? Leave without providing consequences?”
“Don' t--! ” he started with a low growl, clenching his fists as he tried to manage himself. “Don’t talk about him.”
“I’m torn, Daniel,” Vlad said, all but ignoring the warning. “I’d like to offer an adjustment period, but it’s also important you start off with clear expectations and consequences.”
“Why don’t you read your self-help books a little more before you bother me, then, if you’re so undecided?” he mocked.
Vlad narrowed his eyes at him. “How was the talk with your mother?”
“It was none of your business,” Danny responded coldly. He felt tired, and the nausea and headache kept pestering him.
“She seemed upset,” Vlad commented darkly.
“She was,” he spat, then felt anger dissolve at his emptiness and continued, “You get that normal people have to cope, right? People don’t recover from crap like this in a day and fall in love with their lying sociopathic college buddy the next day. How’s that going, anyway? Have the two conversations you’ve had with her so far been everything you wanted?”
“They have,” Vlad replied calmly. “Despite your attempts to remain a source of pain for her.”
Danny ground his teeth and turned his head away.
Vlad wandered over to the bookcase and grabbed a few books, carrying them over to Danny’s desk and setting them down. “I want you to start on these three first thing tomorrow. A chapter each. A far better use of your time than… What do you do with your time? Stare at the wall?”
“Oh just, you know, plot and scheme,” Danny replied dully.
Vlad smiled at him and patted his left shoulder, ignoring the wince it garnered, and headed for the door. “Get your homework done. I won’t be as generous tomorrow.”
He left, but the renewed solitude offered no comfort. He looked over at the books on the desk, scowling at them. The bed had an equally unappealing look to it.
A bubbling anger started festering as his eyes fell again on the books as Vlad's demand rang in his ears, and his mom's visit simmered in the far reaches of his mind. His fists clenched, his limbs trembled, and without even realizing he was doing it, he sat up and swiped the books off the desk in a fit of frustration.
They clattered softly onto the floor; not even the paper crinkled.
He sighed and his eyes wandered to his phone; sitting uselessly on top of his desk. He picked it up and glanced again at the service bar; still nothing.
All of this technology and he it was useless to him.
He pressed his brows together as a thought occurred to him. There were plenty of devices in the house that had service. After all, Vlad couldn't get away with keeping internet service from his mom, but he had to use it, too. Vlad had that laptop on his desk and it was obvious from the last time Vlad had brought Danny into his office that he didn't move it from that room.
It was probably still there.
He could...
He scowled as he dismissed the thought. There was no way Vlad would leave his unattended laptop without some kind of security on it. It was probably password protected, at least.
He looked at his phone and noticed the battery life was still at 100%.
His eyes grew big as an idea struck him as he stared at his mostly useless phone.
It could still record...
He waited, pacing his room, keeping his phone charging to maximize the battery life, and kept glancing at the clock on his computer.
He figured not even Vlad was psychotic enough to stay up until 4:00am.
The house was eerily silent as he phased through the door of his room, a dark, gloomy hallway greeting him coldly.
He floated slowly towards the staircase, keeping his eyes and ears perked for noise or movement. His mom was definitely sleeping and he didn't think Vlad was awake either, but he also wasn't sure what lengths Vlad would go to keep an eye on him. So far he hadn't seen any security cameras, no scanners, he didn't even lock Danny in the room, but that somehow made Danny feel even more paranoid that he must have some other, sneakier way to keep an eye on him.
Because surely Vlad wasn't that confident that he'd won...
He ghosted down the stairs, keeping a particular eye out for Skulker or even the Dairy King. No sign of either. It worried him a little that he hadn't seen or sensed the Dairy King since they got there and a small part of him wondered if Vlad had done something to him for releasing Danny back at the reunion.
He was probably just... busy. He was a ghost; he was fine.
He froze at the doors of Vlad's office, the silence pressing in on him, and despite the fact that the mansion was draped in darkness and Danny was still floating invisibly, soundlessly through the foyer, his limbs trembled anxiously. It felt ridiculous that he could go this far through the mansion unnoticed and the paranoid side of him was now sure that whatever Vlad had set up to keep him contained and controlled must be waiting for him in the office. It had to; that's where Vlad's lab was. He wouldn't just leave that unprotected. Vlad wasn't stupid.
Swallowing down his fear, he took a steadying breath and phased his head through the doors, peeking inside the office.
Like the rest of the mansion, it was dark and quiet, outlines barely made visible by the soft blue light pooling in from the window.
He stayed there for a while, staring into the room and waiting for something to happen. When everything stayed quiet, dark, and still, he cautiously floated inside.
Still surprised and confused that he was making it this far, he glanced over at the secret entrance to Vlad's lab. It was closed and innocuous as the first time he'd seen it, but he felt a small tremor tingle down his spine and he quickly looked away from it, focusing instead on the task at hand. He floated to the end of the room and was relived to see Vlad's laptop settled on Vlad's desk. With one last, careful look around the room, he slowly opened up the laptop.
As he suspected, it was locked with a password. He thought about trying to unlock it on his own (the password probably relating somehow to his mom), but he decided against it. If Vlad was at all paranoid, he might have set it up so that he would be alerted if an incorrect password was entered.
He closed it again and turned around to assess the bookshelf behind the desk. It looked like a lot of the books were probably decorative; there was some dust around the edges of the books where whatever housekeeper cleaned the mansion had cleaned around them. That was a good sign; if the books weren't being pulled off the shelf for any reason, it would be the perfect hiding spot.
He pulled his phone out of his waistband and once again checked the battery life. Confirming that it was still at 100%, he turned on the camera and tested a few angles until he got a perfect view of the laptop that would not be blocked if Vlad was sitting at the desk. He pressed record, then phased the phone into one of the books so that just the camera peeked out of the spine. Double checking the angle one more time, he gave the camera an invisible thumbs up and flew out of the room.
Back in the foyer, he looked around at the still silent mansion, waiting for something.
Nothing. Not even a creak.
He... got away with it?
He should have felt some pride; some relief that Vlad apparently was that confident that he won that he hadn't bothered to keep any kind of tabs on what Danny was doing, but all he felt was a swelling anxiety. He started to fly back towards his room, but he stopped partway down the hall. There was no way he was going to sleep and there was nothing in there for him to occupy himself with besides Vlad's stupid homework...
He looked down the other end of the hall, towards the narrow, winding staircase Vlad had shown them their first day there... With a deep breath out his nose, both to gain courage and to subdue the feeling of having lost some battle, he flew up the stairwell, only hesitating upon entering the darkened observatory.
Flipping on the lights didn’t help make the room feel less inhospitable and part of him wouldn’t have had it any other way. He ignored most everything in the room, focused entirely on the telescope at the far end. He examined it with knowledge he had only ever acquired online and started experimentally adjusting the settings until he had it positioned where he wanted within the confines of the large, domed window.
He peered through the scope, letting the stars pull him away from the paranoia and anxiety. The stars gleamed at him, constellations sharpened under the closer view, and he could almost feel the cosmic breeze. He buried his tumbling thoughts and fears in trying to locate all of the constellations he knew, forgetting that, no matter whether his paranoia was right or not, there would be no way to know until the sun came up and he couldn't see the stars anymore.