Author's Notes:

Oh, I'm not dead! There's a new chapter up! dances lol, heres to new beginings!

Danny and all other related characters belong to Nick and Butch Hartman.

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The Wasteland

Near Miss

Missa's fingers deftly twisted and connected wires in an old Ecto-cannon, her hair pulled up in a small bundle at the nape of her neck. She worked with a nervous energy that was only matched by Vlad's as the pair focused on salvaging the old Anti-Ghost weapons from the decade before. When all they had to worry about was Danny. Now, the pair dared not think of what they had to deal with. They worked in an old antechamber off of the main hall, slaving together, repairing and creating the weapons they would need to defend themselves.

Vania was humming some sing-song story to Hawnt, who had become her charge for the moment, wrapped up in a blanket and securely fixed to his cradle basket. The young Ghost girl had become completely enamored with the sweet little baby, and any old fear lingering had been utterly demolished by the coos of adoration the boy had given her. They had claimed the main hall as their playground, and after Vlad's assurances it was safe, Missa had given it to them. The two, together, kept out of trouble, and out of the adults' hair.

This was a godsend, as Missa didn't know how much she could take. Worn thin by fear and heavy anticipation, her fuse had become short. She would never, never yell, but Vlad had once or twice put a hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of whatever private rage had enveloped her mind. But, right now, Missa was entirely focused on the plasma cannon and its delicate circuitry. It was an old Brooke Corp. model, and she could therefore work it. Anything newer she didn't understand. Ten years apart from human civilization had cost her a great deal in knowledge.

"Vlad, throw me the anti-rad coupler, if you don't mind." The older man grunted and tossed it to her, and she caught it without even looking up. He was working on his old inventions, still in the paper-and-pencil phase of most of them. With all the new technology he had forsaken, he needed time to update the blueprints. Vlad was feeling his age with every passing moment, the despair that thickened the air around him becoming tighter as he tired.

Dropping his pencil, he bowed his head for a moment. They were working against a clock they couldn't see. There was no telling when Dan would arrive, if he even did. They couldn't move fast enough, it seemed, waiting for a villain to arrive even as they dreaded it. The calm before the storm, he mused.

"Not quite the calm, Vlad. More like the flurry of activity on the eve of battle." Sharply lifting his head, he glared at Missa's back, all he could see of her. Her shoulders were hunched, head hung as low as his had been. Her fingers were splayed on the floor, gripping it, as though she needed and anchor, or the sensation, or merely a distraction. She turned to look at him, and he saw a receding silver cast to the iris of her eyes. Then it was gone, vanished completely. But it was the emotion within those eyes that caused him to slip from his chair to sit next to her on the ground, her fear and insecurity that had him tentatively touch her hand.

"What am I now, Vlad? Am I human becoming something else, or am I now no longer human at all?" Missa turned her head, but not before Vlad had seen rage burning within her.

"He had best not come here, Vlad. I don't know what I would do. I am too strong to merely cave, too weak to confront him. I wonder, who would win if he and I did battle? Dr. Frankenstein and his creation, his Monster. But the real question, which one, of he and I, is the Monster?" She drew in a great breath, and then let it out, slowly. Vlad removed his hand and smiled at her, his face lined with worry and desperate care.

"Are you going to be well, Missa? We can take a break for now, and call it a day. We've both been pushing ourselves to the limit, what with the Sword of Damocles hanging above our heads. Perhaps you should go to the library and relax for a bit." Missa shook her head, but did so with a wry, spiritless grin of her own.

"No, I think not. All I need is to see little Hawnt. I'll feel better after holding my baby." She stood, her shoulders a little lax, and gracefully left the anteroom towards the main hall. His eyes lingered on her form for a moment, her effortless movement and implicit poise. Realizing his thoughts, Vlad shook his head, willing whatever perverse cloud that had shaded his thoughts away. She was his charge, she and her child. They needed protection, not another problem unsettling their foundations. Then he turned his attention back to the work in front of him, straining every synapse trying to find the perfect solution.

Missa walked over to where Vania and Hawnt were sitting. Vania had a small chapter book in her lap, and was reading it to the half asleep baby. The little Ghost girl had reading skills that would put most preteens to shame, but that was to be expected. She had been six for a very long time. Smiling at the children, as Vania had obviously claimed Missa as a mother, she sat down next to them. Vania looked up and smiled, but she kept reading until the end of the chapter. When she had completed it, she closed the book carefully and grinned up at Missa.

"I think Hawnt likes Howl's Moving Castle, Missa. I remember when you read it to me, and I thought it would be nice for him to hear it, too." Missa petted Vania's orange hair, twining bits of it in her fingers.

"Thank you, dear. I'm glad you like him. If you hadn't, I don't know what I would have done." The Ghost girl shrugged nonchalantly, but her reddening cheeks showed that she liked to hear that she was important. Hawnt gurgled merrily, catching both of their attention, and Missa shrugged him out of his basket. Vania tickled his little booties, eliciting another happy giggle.

"He looks so much like you, Missa! Was this how you looked as a baby?" Missa laughed, and touched her baby's nose.

"Maybe. I never had many baby pictures of me growing up, and if I did, God knows where they might be now. I wish I was as cute as my little Hawnt. Then I would have become a television star!" She stood up, and grabbing Vania's small hand, began to swirl about the room.

"Imagine it; we would have stormed Holly Wood with our dazzling good looks and brilliant personalities! We could have had every movie role. You, Vania, would have been the new Shirley Temple, sweeping the stage with your sweet innocence, and your precious little friend, Hawnt! You would have done a remake of 'Oliver Twist!'" Placing Hawnt on her hip, Missa spun Vania one handed, much to the little girl's amusement, if her happy laughter was any indication.

"What's this I hear about you three? Are you going to leave this old man behind and go off to Broadway?" Vlad came out, still disheveled, but grinning like a madman. His hands were behind his back, obviously hiding something. He sauntered over to the invigorated trio and with a flourish, bowed low. Missa laughed at his mock-sincerity and curtsied in her overalls.

"Of, course, you old hack, we're off to join the circus, too! Travel the world, see the Pyramids and the Great Wall, hobnob with the crowned heads of Europe!" Vlad laughed aloud at this, and with great ceremony, began to produce what he had brought.

"Well, you can't go gallivanting off in that getup. I've brought something foe the lovely ladies and the handsome gentleman…" And with that, he produced a set of shawls, boas, a moth eaten dress and one graying Top Hat.

Vania screamed and flung herself at the costume finery, and Missa caught herself joining right in with an exited shriek of her own. Vania pulled on the dress over her usual outfit and flung a shawl about her arms, and floating up a few feet began flying back and forth, round the humans in the room. Missa stepped out of her overalls, leaving her in a pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt. But it seemed like the finest wardrobe selection as she flung about her shoulder one obnoxiously red boa, and pulling the Top Hat from Vlad's laughter shaken hands, placed it upon Hawnt's head, where it promptly slipped over his eyes.

"Now, what a sight we make!" Missa held her baby close and spun around, while Vania soared about and Vlad shook with mirth. He was amazed by everyone's gaiety, and yet, he wasn't surprised. They had all needed this, a break from the terror. So, he allowed himself to be brought into the fun when Vania grabbed his hands and began to spin about with him, almost as Missa was doing with Hawnt.

Their laughter rose from the room to fill the mansion, and somehow, the gloom seemed to visibly shift. Rooms that had not seen a human in years suddenly became warm and inviting; lamps, which no amount of wiring could light, flashed into life with a shiver. Shadows fled from this new enlightenment, chased out by the laughter that woke the home. It was as though their joy had been given sentience.

And so, when the pale grey clouds became tinged with a green so violent and despicable that only one thing in the entire world could have caused such a distortion, and the creator of so much pain and anguish flew once again in the skies, the manor quieted. The windows hid their light, the echoes were silenced by living walls. The house, now a home, was keeping its inhabitants. The living will of the woman within had been given over to the silver mist that now held their house. And even as it whispered to the outside world, no one is here, go elsewhere for your prey, it said to those within you are our charge, and we will keep you safe.

And even as the laughter of Vlad and Vania rang in the halls, the rooms, the walls, Missa stepped outside the mirth of her small family, and looked to the sky, where she knew somewhere, her enemy was. But at the touch of one small hand, she looked into her son's golden eyes, gold that steadily ebbed away, and she felt that her safety and the safety of all in this, their home, was assured. And her laughter rang out, loudest of all, for now she knew that she was more protected than ever. For, the unasked for gift from The Phantom was obvious; the very walls would fight for her now. And so she held Hawnt close, and grabbing the hands of both Ghost girl and friend, she spun wildly about, until they all fell to the floor, exhausted.

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So, here it is, and again, I'm alive and well!