Spy: I didn't get to replies..again...sigh...oh well. It's 2:00 in the morning. Bedtime for me. Enjoy this luverly chappy.

The rest of the day was quiet and uneventful. Sam came up to give Danny a grilled cheese bagel, which he gobbled down greedily. The girl giggled, taking the empty plate in her hands.

"Danny…" She murmured after a few moments of awkward silence. "I think you should call your parents. To let them know you're ok."

Danny looked up, swallowing the last bits of his lunch before shaking his head.

"I can't call them." He replied. "I'm afraid to."

"You're going to have to eventually." Sam sighed, removing a cell phone from her pocket. She forced it into the boy's hands, before smiling warmly, and leaving the room.

"I always carry two." The boy heard her say before the door shut.

Danny sat for a few moments, struggling with conflicting emotions as he stared at the buttons on the sleek new phone. His fingers moved over the numbers, not pressing them, just mimicking the motion…the one that would contact his mother.

But he couldn't talk to her…He couldn't talk to anybody.

"They're missing you, Danny." A voice whispered in his head. "She's worried about you."

Danny sighed, slowly typing the number in, and waiting.

Henry cowered in the car's back seat, his fingers nervously stroking Bruno's soft head. The man looked up at his master as Loki chatted animatedly with the cop in the driver's seat. Loki was a great actor, always able to hide his true self. He was manipulative and cruel, but also captivating and remarkable. People always fell for his false charm…and if they didn't, he used his powers to control them. Loki had to be the most powerful man in the world.

And soon everyone would know it.

"Mom?" Danny whispered, cringing slightly after he heard his mother's gentle voice. His breathing was rough and labored as he sat, shivering slightly.

"Danny?" Maddie gasped. "Danny, are you alright?"

The boy's lips moved to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, nervously biting the back of his tongue, trying to find the will to reply.

He was silent.

"Danny?" Maddie's voice called in desperation. "Danny, where are you?"

The boy whimpered slightly, flipping the phone shut with a click. After a few moments, it rang again…

He ignored it, burying his head in his hands. Coughing sobs tore from his lungs into the air around him, tears poured from his eyes to mix with warm spit. He was drooling like a little child, and didn't care. He wanted to talk to her…he really did…but…how could he explain what he did? He had promised he wouldn't be a murderer ever again…and he'd broken it. He had broken his promise to his parents, and murdered a man in a moment of heated rage.

He had been so stupid. Now the phone rang over and over, some tinny tune echoing through the small room…

And he cried.

Outside the door, a man listened, the boy's cries falling softly upon his ears. Andrew drew back from the door, standing still for a moment, his wrinkled face screwing up in thought. Silently, he began walking away, thousands of possibilities running through his mind. This kid claimed his name was Dante, when he had clearly heard his friends call him Danny multiple times. Maybe it was a nickname…or maybe…something more.

The child had tried calling his mother…but she either did not answer, or he did not respond. Now someone was calling him repeatedly and he refused to aknowledge it.

Andrew tried to push it from his mind, as he lumbered down into the kitchen. The paper rested in a roll on the breakfast table waiting to be read. The man pulled out a chair, listening to the sneezing from the living room, smiling slightly.

At least those kids seemed normal.

He pulled the rubber band from around the paper, setting it aside before unfurling the roll…

As he stared at the front page, his face paled.

The boy's mug shot was printed on the paper, his dark hair disheveled and falling into his face. Black bags were underneath his eyes, making him look sinister and evil…

The scar on his cheek was unmistakable.

It was him.

Danny Fenton…

Andrew's mouth was opened in shock. He had heard a little about the Fenton boy. He had been kidnapped twice, supposedly brainwashed by a maniacal ghost, and murdered dozens of people. The man's eyes roved over the article, drinking in all the details. It said that he had been living in Kansas, but fled to Massachusetts after his home was burned. There he had attacked the owner of castle Anima, killed a GIW agent, and stolen a rare knife. After that, he had disappeared…

Andrew knew where he was…

He was in his den.

But the boy had seemed so sweet, and much too weak to do those things. He just didn't have the characteristics of a killer.

He walked with a limp, not caused by a tree. It had happened in the ghost king's castle where his leg was caught underneath a falling rock. Around his wrist was a metal band, and on the back of his neck was a chip with the GIW insignia on it.

His ghost power level was recently gauged at thirteen, making him equal to the ghost King ,Pariah Dark. Andrew set the paper aside, swallowing hard.

If that kid wanted to…he could kill him in the blink of an eye. He surely was a great master of deception. If he had wanted him dead, he would be dead already. The boy must just want a place to hide.

So Andrew would hide him.

The man made up his mind then and there.

He would hide the boy, and try to figure out what made him tick. Maybe even try to save him. Everyone could be reformed, all he needed was a helping hand to push him in the right direction.

Danny Fenton was too much like his old friend to ignore. Something was going on…something bigger than him…he could feel it.

He knew he had to help.

The man got to his feet, slowly walking back to his den. The room had fallen silent again…but he knew the boy was in there.

Danny Fenton was in there.

"Hey kid?" The man asked, knocking on the door. There was a long pause, before a small timid voice answered.

"Yes?" It called.

"Can I come in? I need to get something."

Another pause.

"Sure." The boy finally said. Andrew opened the door, walking in, bracing himself for what he would see. The boy was sprawled out on the chair, his bad leg propped up on an ottoman. His eyes were red and bloodshot from crying. The phone lay on the ground…the battery missing from the back.

"You been crying?" The man asked, playing dumb.

"My leg just hurt." Danny replied lamely. "It happens a lot."

"Ahhh." Andrew said, sitting down on the edge of the ottoman. "My legs hurts sometimes too. I got shot there in WWII."

"Really?" The boy asked.

"Yep." The old man grinned. "Those days were some of the worst in my life. Always living in fear. Not many people got out of that war alive."

"At least you did." Danny smiled weakly. "If not for you we'd still be in that ditch."

"Or caught by the cops." Andrew's mind screamed.

"It's alrigh'." The man replied, hiding his thoughts. "Always there for a friend in need. And if you need a place to stay, I can help. You're 'avin' some home troubles aren't you?"

The man watched as the boy's blue eyes turned to him, fear dancing behind their clouded surfaces.

"I'm fine." He whispered.

Andrew shook his head.

"I know everything, Danny." The old man replied. "Is alrigh'. I'm not going ta hurt you."

Andrew watched as the boy drew his body back into the chair, almost diminishing half in size. He was still afraid…very afraid.

"Talking helps everything." The man whispered.

Danny nodded, sitting up slightly. He was looking down on the ground, his face red from embarrassment.

"I suck at hiding." He said after a long pause. "I should have just gotten up and left while I had the chance. I bet I'm plastered over every paper in the state."

"You probably are." Andrew replied. "That's how I knew. You're too beat up ta hide real good. It's obvious to pretty much everyone."

"I need to get moving then…" The boy whispered, finally looking up. "Do you really want to help me?"

"Maybe," The old man smiled. "If you tell me why you stayed here, then yes."

"You won't believe me." Danny replied. "I know it."

"I believe a lot." Andrew grinned. "Try me."

Those eyes again…hurt…untrusting. They looked at him, begging him to understand. Andrew nodded gently, prompting the boy to continue.

"You see this band?" Danny asked, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. "It belonged to Clockwork, the ghost of time…do you believe me so far?"

"I believe in ghosts." The man replied, looking on with peaking interest. "Go on."

"He gave it to me, and said that I needed to protect it. I later learned that I was supposed to take his place."

Andrew nodded once more, his calm expression never fading.

Danny went on, calmly explaining how he had gotten to where he was…and what he now needed to do.

"Well then…" Andrew murmured. "We need to get out of here by morn. The faster we get out of state, safer you'll be. The question is…how?"

"My question is, 'where are we going?'" The boy asked, sitting up taller, nervously gripping the sides of the chair.

Andrew smiled broadly, his wrinkled face looking warm and kind.

"We're going to Ellis island." The old man replied. "While back, they did an exhibit on immigrants in the factories. I donated an old Rosary that 'longed to Dante so people could see it. I know that he was born in the states, but his parents t'weren't. It might have been his father's. I saw pictures of the exhibit. Dante had a little plague with his name, and a little blip about 'is factory work. 'e would have liked that."

"So we're going to New York City?" Danny asked, his face lighting up. "With all the people there, it'll be impossible to find us."

"Bingo." Andrew grinned. "Now…how we get there…that's the question…"

Loki leaned against the serving counter of a small gas station sipping a cup of warm coffee slowly, trying hard not to burn his tongue. A little ways off, the other policeman was paying for the foul stuff, being the good pawn he should. Loki smiled slightly to himself, reveling in his good idea.

Then his ears focused on a distant conversation.

"I can't believe that kid's here."

"Just what we need."

Loki nearly choked on his drink as his violet eyes snapped to two men sitting at one of the small tables lined up against the window. Without even thinking, Loki stepped forward, his gaze locked on the newspaper that the two figures were obsessing over. He snatched it from their grasp, ignoring their protests. They silenced when they saw his uniform.

Loki was too busy staring at the picture on the cover.

The demon spawn.

The man rolled the paper up tightly, shoving it in his pocket, a wicked smile growing across his face.

How could he have not sensed it? The demon child was close. Almost unbearably close. His scent was in the air, all around. He could smell the curse.

"The murderer's nearby." He snapped at the policeman. "Get your stuff, and let's go. Now."

The man nodded, fumbling to shove the change into his pocket. Then he grabbed his coffee and a sack of doughnuts, before almost racing out the door. Loki followed, trying hard not to seem too out of place. His senses were screaming at him, telling him to find the boy…and kill him…for his mentor. He wanted to crouch low to the ground, smell his trail.

But this was not the place.

Soon the time would come for him to kill…

He was getting closer.

"You told him?" Sam snapped, poking Danny angrily in the chest.

"I didn't." The boy protested, putting his hands up in defense. "He knew. But it's ok. He wants to help."

"Help?" Tucker spazzed. "What if he's tricking us? I think we should just make a run for it."

The three sat in the living room, tension thick in the air. Danny shifted uncomfortably, his face red and hot as Sam flopped down in her seat, her arms crossed angrily.

"This is reckless." She snapped. "We're running from the government, which is painfully close to us, and you told—"

"I didn't tell him." Danny growled. "He saw me in the paper. It was pretty obvious. He knew Dante when he was alive. They were best friends."

"That doesn't mean anything." Tucker continued. "Trey was related to you, and he—"

"Trey was a coward." The other boy snapped. "Andrew is different. If he had wanted to turn me in, all he had to do was call the GIW while I was asleep. They would have come, and taken me away, and that would be it."

"But he didn't." Sam finished.

"No. He didn't." Danny continued. "We don't have any other choice but to trust him. It's alright, ok?"

"I don't know how you can trust people after all of this." Sam sighed. "I'm not even special, and I already jump at every strange noise."

"I guess I'm just like that." Danny shrugged.

It was then that Andrew strolled in, holding some clean clothes, and a fishing tackle box in one hand.

"Are we going fishing?" Tucker asked.

"Naw." The old man replied, setting the stuff down on the floor. "It was my wife's makeup box. I kept it all. We can use it to cover tha' scar on 'is face."

"Oh." Danny said, running his fingers along the spot where the skin puckered. "That's a good idea."

"Yup." Andrew smiled, taking out various powders and foundations from the dusty box. "Then I 'ave clothes for all of you. I suppose you need a change after all this time."

"Yeah." Tucker laughed, charmed by the man's kindness. "And a shower."

"A shower would be great." Sam chimed in, letting her guard down.

"Then you do tha' while I give 'Danielle' a makeover." The man grinned.

"It's gone." Danny laughed, poking the spot experimentally. "It's really gone."

For the first time in months, the boy stared at his reflection without shame. That horrible scar was done, replaced by a pale unblemished cheek.

"It'll stay that way, as long as it don't rain." Andrew replied.

"I wish it would stay that way forever." The boy nearly giggled, touching the place once more. "Thank you"

"Welcomes." The old man grinned. "How are the new clothes fittin' ya?"

Danny pulled the tight white shirt down further over his thick belt, and adjusted the long sleeves of a flannel work shirt. He wore a huge pair of baggy worn blue jeans, and a pair of dirtied boots that slipped over his bulky leg brace, hidden beneath his pants. The dagger was also thrust into the elastic, holding it firmly in place, and well out of sight.

"They feel fine. Thank you." Danny smiled in reply. "Thank you so much for helping us."

"No problem." The man replied. "You got the picture?"

"Yep." The boy grinned, patting his pants pocket. "It's in there."

"Good." Andrew said softly. "Your friends are already in the truck. Come on kid. Let's get gone."

Danny nodded, trying to hide his limp as he headed for the door.

"This place…" Loki murmured, shutting the car door with a bang. "This place is…"

He didn't finish his thought as he walked aimlessly over the grassy field outside of a huge towering castle. His nose greedily sucked in air, reveling in the thickness of the boy's scent.

"I can feel the curse everywhere." The man grinned dementedly. "He's been here. He might still be here."

Loki gave out a barking laugh, running towards the castle at alarming speeds. His violet eyes were like those of a wild animal's as he made his way closer to the castle.

"Hey, sir!" A voice called. "You can't go in!"

The psychic only stopped when a tall man in white blocked his path.

"I'm with the authorities!" Loki hissed, trying to dodge around the GIW agent. "If I want in, I'm going in!"

The agent shook his head, trying to push the other man back. Loki snarled, and fixed the man with his eyes, letting the power flood into them, gripping his prey's mind tight.

"I'm going into that castle." The psychic growled softly. "You should let your friends know, so none of them have to kill themselves tonight, like you do."

The agent's face was blank as he silently walked off. Loki sneered, continuing his journey to the castle.

He ran through the doors, pushing them aside, sniffing the air once more.

The scent was heavy now. Almost stifling.

GIW agents milled around him, talking softly, looking at various objects. Loki was overwhelmed by the commotion.

Something was going on here.

He was going to find out.