Well, I guess I'm writing the introduction for us this time. XD Our fifth collab is coming to you on an incredibly special day because it was exactly one decade ago that Danny Phantom first aired. I'm so thankful for Liv and this incredible world she's introduced me to. And the phandom because holy cow you guys are so talented and amazing and I'm so impressed that we're still going this strong seven years after the show's been cancelled. There's been a ton of really cool things posted all over today, and this is our contribution to the fandom festivities. As usual, I tried to deviate from the plan, but it still ended up being our longest one yet! So Happy Dannyversary and enjoy! :) ~sapphireswimming

Decadence

April 3, 2014

Danny sat despondently in the middle of the floor.

He blinked slowly, his eyes never quite opening all the way as he stared at the door to his small room, waiting for it to open. It would open soon, as it always did, breaking the silence that he pretended was peace.

The two agents (there were always at least two) would enter, disturbing the disheartening atmosphere by clanging around with all their fancy equipment, and he would quietly prepare for the inevitable.

It wasn't that bad he told himself. Or, at least, it wasn't as bad as it easily could have been.

They poked and prodded him with their needles, and they took samples, mostly. Sometimes it hurt a little, and he would wince, but that was the worst of it. Nothing quite horrifying or traumatizing happened here.

The worst was what didn't happen here.

Because nothing happened here.

Besides the agents who came into his room, he had no contact with living, breathing, sentient beings. Hadn't for months now. And the GIW agents weren't really much for witty banter. Or idle chatter. Or meaningful conversation. Or small talk. Or really anything at all. At least, not with him.

He had realized this in the first couple days of his imprisonment and the conditions hadn't improved. He could always talk to himself- they hadn't made him wear a gag, after all- but even he had to admit that it wasn't the same.

He sighed heavily, his endless musings finally broken off by the click of the door. It was such a mundane and common occurrence, but the sound of anything made his heart jump with anticipation.

With what might once have been a quirky grin, Danny looked up to see which white-clad agents had come to visit him this time. Not that he actually kept track of them by their official titles. He could get lost in that alphabet soup of a system.

He was pleased to see Ms. Awkward-Ponytail. She didn't really speak to him - again, none of them did - but her eyes looked nice. Like she maybe could have cared a little bit if she hadn't been so trained to disregard him as a lifeform. But he was less pleased to see her companion.

The doctor was one of the tallest men he'd ever seen, and his perpetually gloved fingers always seemed to bring a different implement with him for each visit. "Instruments of torture" Danny not so affectionately called them. Not that they were as Medieval as anything in his parents' basement, but he had never been fond of things that poked him, and the doctor took no care in minimizing any discomfort he caused.

Danny's face fell to a scowl as they approached him, and he took a subconscious step backward.

"I'm actually closed for business today," he said, knowing full well that it wouldn't do anything to stop them.

Ms. Ponytail graced him with a sympathetic sort of smile, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"No, really, I just am not feeling this at the moment, so maybe you can take a rain check? We'll reschedule? I'll have my people call your people?"

"No," the doctor said, startling Danny out of his train of thought. He hadn't expected an answer, and certainly not from him. "April 3rd is as good a day as any."

His first instinct was to roll his eyes at the doctor's lack of sarcasm appreciation. As if Danny had been actually insinuating they reschedule a series of experiments he'd much rather completely do away with. But as he opened his mouth to retort, the sentence suddenly struck him.

He stood frozen in place long enough for the man to grab his arm and push up the sleeve with slender fingers to reveal the inside of his elbow colored with bruises of various shades.

"It's April 3rd?" was all he managed to say.

His voice caught awkwardly in his throat, and he turned wide eyes to the woman, as though he needed a second source to confirm. Without looking at him, she nodded, smiling as she tested the syringe full of whatever fluids they would inject him with today. He eyed the needle warily and suddenly he felt like laughing even though there was nothing remotely funny about anything.

He didn't even flinch when she - gently because thank goodness she was the one doing the poking and the doctor was just holding him down - injected the needle into his arm. Didn't even feel it. It didn't even register in his mind that it was happening. Because suddenly, his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

He was thinking about this day last year, when Sam and Tucker "kidnapped" him after dinner and took him to the observatory, because with all of the ghost hunting, he hadn't had time to just see the stars.

He was thinking about the year before that, when he had run through the kitchen ("you're not supposed to be in here, Danny, you're going to spoil the surprise!" Jazz had shrieked) and the goop from the latest invention lying so innocently on the dining room table shot at him and landed in the bowl of frosting his sister had been stirring.

His mind blurred sluggishly through all of the memories that coincided with this seemingly innocent date. The doctor must not have done his research, or he'd probably have known better than to mention the day to an already-unresponsive test subject. Or maybe he had snuck it in on purpose because he knew. Maybe it was all part of some deeper, psychological experiment to see how he would handle the knowledge that, for the first time in his life, he was spending his birthday completely alone, encased in a government facility far away from anyone who cared for him.

As soon as Danny realized that this must have been part of some twisted plan on the part of the GIW, he tried to snap out of it, push those memories to the back of his mind until he was alone again.

Shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He tried to concentrate on the steady stream of different needles being shoved into his arm. Some for new experiments. Some for old. And some just to hold him together after some rather unpleasant tests early on. He hated the way the cold metal eased into his skin and snaked around until they found their proper location. But it was useful, at least, for keeping his mind off of other things.

Off of Jazz's mock anger, the stars twinkling above Sam's head, the way Tucker somehow nearly burnt his beret while trying to light the candles on his cake...

No.

He could not afford to think about it. He refused to play their game, intentional or not, and he would not let it get to him. Today was just a normal day. A normal day in the void.

The room seemed drained of the little color that had ever been there, and Danny carefully closed off his mind to everything but the needles and the drab white surrounding him.

He didn't see the way the doctor smirked as he switched out one needle for yet another. Or the way Ms. Awkward-Ponytail blinked at him thoughtfully once he decided not to rise up to the bait and play their games.

Instead, he decided the best he could do was turn the tables and mock them. As usual.

"So one of these vial things is infused with birthday cake, right? Or is that coming later?" he flashed a wry grin and chuckled. Anything to not fall into the sudden despair that danced around the edge of his mind.

"No. But this one might make you see confetti," the doctor replied as he jammed it home.

Danny didn't wince as the needle navigated between bruises, but it did indeed make him see stars.

"Woohoo!" he slurred a little before they had cleared. "It really is a party!"

Ms. Ponytail frowned and lightly touched the doctor's arm. "I think that's all that's on the schedule for today. We'll monitor him tonight."

The man made a small noise of near-agreement. "Very well, we'll crash his party later."

Danny watched him turn toward the door. "Hope you do," he called. "It won't be much of a party without guests, now, will it?"

The doctor was out the door before he'd finished his sentence, and Danny's heart fell a little as he watched his only connections to the outside world - as messed up as they may be - leave him alone again. The woman turned and gave him an apologetic sort of smile before closing the door softly behind her. One click and he was back to the deafening silence of his own thoughts to occupy him.

For a long moment, he sat in the middle of the floor, curled in on himself, trying to drive away the emptiness of the room until he realized that trying to escape into his mind was an even worse idea with all of the images racing through it now.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and crossed his arms, placing them atop his knees so he could rest his chin and stare at the only wall in the room that kept him from going completely insane.

While three of the walls surrounding him were completely white, without cracks or seams or anything at all to break up the monotony of the solid color, the fourth consisted of a huge mirror blocking what he thought must be the rest of the GIW headquarters and offices.

They were always watching him. That much he knew. They'd always alluded to it, and he'd seen enough crime shows to logically deduce that the mirror was a one-way mirror, and someone was on the other side watching. Watching him. Watching the halls of the facility. Monitoring his vitals as the tubes connected to him sent signals to computers.

So even though all he could see was his beaten-down body slumped on the floor, he stared beyond his reflection, trying to imagine what he would see behind the glass.

He'd talked to himself out loud before with no response. But he'd never really been asking for one. He squinted at his own reflection and thought for a moment. If any day were worth a try, worth that shot in the dark, today was that day.

"Hellooooo," he dragged out, practically singing the word. There was no response. Of course not. "Well, that was awkward."

He turned his face away from the mirror, biting his lip and drumming his fingers on his kneecap. God, what if no one was even on the other side? What if their camera monitors were an entire hallway away? What if this mirror served no other purpose than for him to see how weary and pale he'd become in the past few months? He shut his eyes tightly.

"Well," he finally decided. "I'm going to assume that you're there. And if you are, you've already heard me sing. Which means that you've seen me at my most embarrassing." Danny smiled, trying to convince himself that he wasn't just talking to blank walls. "Which means I might as well continue going."

He turned back to the mirror, hugging his knees closer to his chest by wrapping his arms around them. He didn't quite know where to look, so he decided to just make eye contact with himself. He winced when he noted how dull and tired he looked.

"Anyway, hi there!" he said, hating the way his smile looked, stretched too wide on a face that wasn't used to it anymore.

"As you may or may not know, today is actually my birthday. I don't know how much they tell you, if they even tell you anything about me. Or if you're even...there at all. Listening. But, yeah, it's my birthday, and I was kind of hoping that would give me license to change the dynamic we seem to have going here, disembodied presence."

Danny smiled. It was almost fun talking to this as of yet unconfirmed person behind the mirror. The banter reminded him of his ghost fighting, without the actual fighting.

Deciding to throw caution to the nonexistent wind, he dropped his knees and opted to sit cross-legged instead, straightening his back and pointing to the mirror at himself. "Now, I realize it's probably your job to sit behind this glass and watch monitors and completely ignore me unless I do something drastically stupid.

"And I'm not planning on doing anything drastically stupid. Just so you know," he placated. "Because, despite what my friends say, I'm not clueless."

He threw his hands up defensively. "I know what the deal is. I've known it since I got here. It's why I manage not to cry myself to sleep about being all alone in this blasted room because I know. I'm not dying. I'm not starving. I'm not being tortured...beyond relatively reasonable means," he amended, deftly touching the bruises that graced his arm. "And there's a reason for that. Because for all intents and purposes, you guys could be doing that to me. But you're not."

Danny's eyes hardened as he stared into the mirror. "But I'd rather be treated that way if you didn't have this hanging over my head. Step one inch out of line and BAM we'll hurt your family! Stop cooperating with us when we want samples from you or OOPS something seems to have happened to your friend!

"I get that you need some kind of leverage to keep me here, because, let's face it, there's no way you could keep me in this dump without it. You guys won't even let me put up any NASA posters!"

He scratched a particularly annoying tube that was perpetually jammed into his arm. "You've verbally threatened me, and I know you must have verbally threatened them. Because there is not a doubt in my mind that Tucker would have figured out a way to hack into your system, or Jazz would have used some kind of reverse psychology to talk me out of this if you hadn't. They don't move, you don't hurt me…much. I cooperate, you don't hurt them. It's a careful balance that you've put together, and you've got all the pieces where you want them," his tone dipped low. "I can tell who funds your little program. The way his mind works to keep this going.

"And tell me, oh white clad agent, just how is the cheesehead these days? Does he stop by every once in a while to keep an eye on me? Check up on me? See how I am progressing? How much he's wearing me down?"

Danny huffed, the puff of air barely moving the hair that fell across his forehead. "I bet he makes the rounds just to see that all of the chess pieces in his little game are in the right spaces on his board."

Danny closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to calm down. There would be no use in appealing to this person's better nature if he angered him too much. Just enough to get his attention. "But he can't be around all the time. Can't make every single move on his own, can he? He's got someone else keeping an eye on the board when he's not here. You're out there watching me. So someone...someone must be watching my friends and family too. Making sure they don't do anything to fall out of place."

Licking his chapped lips, Danny said, "I bet you're watching them right now. You've probably got a real high-tech system set up there for yourself. Got a couple cameras on me, just to cover all of the angles. And then a couple on them.

"I wonder... I wonder what they're doing right now."

He hesitated, wringing his hands nervously and glancing sideways for a moment to compose himself. "I wonder what they've done all day. Do they...do they think about me? Do they worry about me? How much of that can you tell from your little computer screen?" He sighed. "More than I can tell from my oh-so-beautiful white walls, I'm guessing.

"But still. I don't think that even the fruitloop has developed cameras that can read people's minds too. So I doubt you would be able to tell that they were brooding over my being in here unless they were actually sitting at the table under a personal thundercloud... and... I hope they aren't doing that. I'm doing enough of that for all of us," he admitted.

He heaved a sigh and decided he'd make a better appeal if he weren't on the ground. His limbs shaking, Danny slowly pushed himself onto his feet and walked closer to the mirror, pulling the tubes and restraints tauter as he closed the distance. "Look. What I'm saying is, I've been through a lot in here. And I know they're going through a lot out here. And I haven't had anyone to talk to or laugh with or live with in months. And I get it. You have to do it; it's part of your job," he threw his hands in the air and looked away for a moment.

"You've got to keep me isolated because there's no telling what in the world I'll get into if I… oh, I don't know… have someone look me in the eyes? Or… the horror… talk to me? Acknowledge my witty banter? It's hard for a guy to keep up a constant stream of carefully crafted puns if the audience doesn't even laugh. Or doesn't exist."

He paused, considering, as he peered at the mirror. "Do you exist? You're real, right?"

He blinked slowly. "It's hard to know what's real anymore. Being alone in here kinda drives you a little cray cray, heh. And I realize you don't have to listen to me or do anything for me because that's not your job, and who the hell am I to you, right? Just some ecto-entity that doesn't have feelings or a life or...a family." His eyes started watering even as he did his best to sport a smile. "But I do have a family. And I miss them so much - it hurts more than anything they've done to me in here. And if I...if I could have one birthday wish - just one - I...I'd really love to see them. Just...see them.

"I know that there's no reason for the GIW to be granting wishes. And I don't think you have Desiree locked up around here either… do you? Do you? Well, you didn't last time I tried wishing for anything, so I'm just going to have to do my wishing without a star or a birthday candle to blow out. But… even with everything you guys have put me through… I still know that there is good in people. So I have to just hope that you're there. And that you can hear me. And that… well… that you have enough good in you to let me see them? Somehow?"

His heart thumped wildly in his chest, and he tried to calm his breathing as it filled the silence. He stared deep into his own reflection, willing something - anything - to happen. His eyes shifted thoughtlessly between green and blue as he fought to keep his emotions in check, trying not to get his hopes too high.

For all that he knew, his entire plea had gone unheard. It wasn't as if luck had ever seemed to be on his side in this horrible white room. But he continued to stare at the mirror as if he knew that there would be no chance of his wish being fulfilled if he took his eyes away from it.

And then, just when he was beginning to think that he would spend the rest of his lonely birthday as he had nearly every other day in this place, something happened.

He watched dumbfounded as his reflection slowly faded before his eyes. Keeping his gaze focused on the same spot, he stepped back as the mirror gradually converted into a window. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. Excellent deduction skills, Fenton. A short laugh escaped his lips as he finally, full of relief and wonder, locked eyes with another human being.

The guy was pretty normal looking beyond the white coat and fact that he had sunglasses perched atop his head even inside a computer control room. But he was the first person in this entire facility to have ever listened to him.

Danny swallowed back the sob of wonder that threatened to emerge from him. This...it was almost like he was a human again. Like he was normal. He was talking to someone, and that someone was responding. It was a simple concept, and one that most people took for granted. But after a few months of being plunged into near-solitary confinement, Danny craved human interaction more than almost anything in the world.

Almost anything.

He was already as close to the man as his various restraints would let him, but with the transformation of the barrier into a pane of glass, he felt closer to the anonymous agent than he had to anyone in a long while. He raised a hand and gave a little wave.

The man sort of flinched at the gesture before grabbing the microphone in front of him and pressing a button to speak. "I'm not allowed to do this. If anyone finds out, I'll be terminated on the spot."

That made Danny lose his grin and want to take back any gesture of friendliness he had made. Not that he still didn't want to be talking to the man, but the last thing he wanted was to get him in trouble when he was the only one who would actually respond to him.

"Please," Danny said. "I'm not asking for you to bring them in here or anything, even if you did keep the mirror up. I just... can you show me?"

He saw the man hesitate, a look of genuine fear crossing his features, so Danny jumped back in, pulling a little too hard on his restraints. "Look, I know what you're risking by even just showing them to me. I know you're not allowed. I know what they've threatened you with. Probably the same things they threaten me with. And I'm sorry for that. But you-you have the power. You're the one in control. No one else is monitoring them. No one else is monitoring me. And no one else is monitoring you. If you show me, I swear to God that I will never, ever tell them. All I want is just to see them one more time. You probably have a family, right?" he pleaded, noting the way the man's eyes softened. "How would you feel if you were locked away and couldn't see them for months? Wouldn't you want just a peek?"

The man looked down for a moment, deciding what to do. Danny was too scared to say anything else in case he ruined the moment. He had said everything that he could possibly say, so now he waited.

And was rewarded by quick movement as the man's fingers began flying over his keyboard, entering commands. Then, without making eye contact, he flipped one of the monitors around so that it faced into Danny's room.

Eyes wild, Danny leaned even further forward, his restraints now being pulled tighter than he'd ever tried. His reaction was immediate as he felt a surprise tear slip from one eye and travel undisrupted down his cheek.

There they were. Mom, Dad, and Jazz. All three of them were gathered in the kitchen (must be dinner time), and all were perfectly, wonderfully alive.

He stared at them, eyes burning and blurring, but he didn't dare move backward to give his hand enough slack to rub them. He had no idea how long the agent's generosity would last, and he wanted to be there for every moment he was allowed.

Once the overwhelming relief to see them all together and all uninjured had faded enough for him to actually pay attention to what he was seeing, he tried to drink in every detail that he could.

Mom was fidgety, and he could see the bags under her eyes - quite a feat considering the camera's quality. He wanted to reach out and hug her and feel her arms surround him as he buried his face into the soft blue hazmat suit. He wanted to cry with her and feel her slender hand run through his hair and comfort him and tell him that everything would be all right. It broke him apart to see how fragile and exhausted she looked.

Dad looked even worse, if such a thing was possible. But then, his dad had always been so open about everything. Without much of a filter between what went through the man's head and what came out of his mouth, it was always easy to tell when something was wrong. Danny wanted to be sitting right there next to him, seeing the way his dad's face would light up as soon as he was there. He hated knowing that he was the reason his dad was hunched up at the table looking far too small even though it wasn't really his fault. He just wanted to be there, hear his booming laugh, feel his strong arms giving him a bone crushing hug that he knew no power on this earth could break.

Then he shifted his gaze to Jazz. She looked...surprisingly well. No outward signs of fatigue or depression or turmoil. He noted the Fenton Thermos attached to her belt and blinked. Jazz was...taking on the roles of both siblings. With their parents in what looked like a constant, guilt-ridden funk, he imagined she was doing her best to be the strong one in the family. Like she always was. Knowing her, she'd probably been expecting this scenario to play out at some point. She was smart like that; Danny never gave her enough credit. She looked ready for battle at any moment, with the Thermos on her hip, cell phone on the table, and Specter Deflector latched around her waist. Her fingers drummed lightly on the table, and the only hint that she was feeling any sort of remorse was that her hair looked frazzled. She was anal about her hair (she was anal about everything, really), and any little strand out of place meant something was very, very wrong.

She tucked one wayward strand behind her ear as she turned her attention to something on the table in front of her. When she produced their sliver cake server with the word Fenton engraved on the bottom in green, he understood. The odd lump-on-a-plate he had dismissed earlier was actually a cake.

His birthday cake.

He let out a strangled sound and smiled like a buffoon, reaching his hand toward the window. He was stopped short of contact by just a few inches. Or, rather...by several thousand miles. He grunted in frustration and watched Jazz meticulously cut the pieces of chocolate fudge cake and dole them out between the three of them.

Four of them. She placed a piece in front of his empty chair.

His mom stood abruptly, roughly pushing the chair back from the table, as she turned to leave the room. Although Dad and Jazz turned to watch her go, neither of them followed.

Part of Danny wanted to ask the agent to track his mother, but he bit his lip, realizing she'd probably left for privacy. And he wanted to grant her some semblance of that, even though she knew - as did he - that they no longer had that luxury. Instead, he eyed his father, his face falling as he watched the sullen man pick at the cake with a fork. Not taking a single bite, he just poked and prodded it.

A fudge cake. And his dad wouldn't eat it. As silly as it seemed, that was perhaps the hardest reality for Danny to digest.

Jazz was able to manage a few bites before her fork began to tremble. And then, before he realized what was happening, his sister was crying. Shoulders quietly shuddering as she bowed her head and let the tears fall.

Danny watched Dad reach a shaking hand to place on her shoulder. It hovered above her sobbing form for a moment before he retracted, deciding that no gesture would comfort his daughter in this moment. Instead, he gathered up the cake, save the lone piece at Danny's spot, and threw it into the refrigerator before quietly leaving the room. Only Jazz was left, her face buried in her arms as her sobs shook the table she leaned on.

He didn't even notice the phone vibrating, but she picked it up quickly, rubbing her eyes and breathing heavily as she composed herself. She hung up and took a deep breath, bracing herself, before pushing away from the table and standing up. Before she left Danny with only an empty kitchen to stare at, she turned her attention to his empty seat. Her eyes, glassy with tears, softened.

"Happy birthday, Danny."

Danny whispered back, "Thanks, Jazz," even though she would never know that he had done so. And then she was gone.

Once his family had vacated the main screen, the man controlling the computer pulled the monitor toward himself again. "That's all I can do," he said quickly. "I'm sorry."

Danny nodded, neglecting to make eye contact for fear of more unwanted tears leaking out. Instead he kept his eyes trained on the back of the monitor and stared hard until the window in front of him turned back into his reflection.

He was alone again.

He had been alone for so long that he would have thought he was used to it. But now, walking back to the middle of the room so that the tubes attached to his body weren't creaking with the strain anymore, he realized that he had never gotten used to it at all. Had just pushed the feeling aside in favor of getting through the day. But seeing his family again like that… hurting just as much as he was…

He sat down on the unforgiving floor.

Slowly, he curled in on himself, shutting his eyes and pressing them against his crossed arms until all he saw was blackness and the faint blurs of his family haunting his memories. He let out a strangled, gut-wrenching sob as he made a promise to himself.

This, he swore, is the last birthday I will ever spend alone.

And with renewed resolve, he started planning.