A/N: Well, I'm glad some of ya have taken a liking to my story. I know, dark undertones, but hey, that's how I like 'em! But now you all have to try to be nice, and tolerate the changes~

Now lemme get some things straight. Here we go:

UPDATES: Are not concrete. I might update here and there, and suddenly have this GINORMOUS gap. You all will be WHERE'S MAI UPDATE, and I'll be NOT YET DAMMIT! Seriously, remember, I got a life, and I'm writing fiction on the side.

FICTION: Is on a fictionpress account, with the same screenname. If you're interested, just look it up.

IDEAS: I'm listening. If you got suggestions, tell me, if there are problems, tell me, but if it's a flame, then DON'T BOTHER. GOT IT?

SCRIPT FOR TEEN TITANS ANIMATED: Seriously, does anyone have any web sites that have ALL the Teen Titans animated scripts? I'd like to have specific ones, just so I can be accurate with the character interaction. Or I'll have to watch ALL the episodes . . . D:

OH YEAH. I AM FIXATED ON THE MOVIE 9. IT COMES OUT SEPTEMBER 9, 2009, or 9-09-09. GEEZUS CRACKERS, BECAUSE I AM AMAZED BY IT. C8 I like Tim Burton, and the guy who's directing it . . . oh god, if you can find it, watch his animated short. It's real neat!

–
–

Disclaimer: I own not DP, TT, but I do own the characters that I add in here.

–
–

Ghostly Scars

By: Gs. N. Sz.

Chapter 2. The Devil's Fruit.

–
–

The life of a young man is a frivolous one, where everything around him moves in a swift blur. Everything happens too quickly, and everyone is caught in the whirlwind. But there are those who anchor themselves in the midst of chaos, allowing them a forceful, but assuring reprise. And as both the past and his current life has told him, he needed to have patience, and to not burn out like many of the others.

And so here he was, a strange observer of this new environment that he has still not gotten used to.

He felt out of place, and pulled at his stark-white collar, loosening the tie, and adjusting the suit's cuffs. His sleek black pants were dustless, whilst his suit jacket made him look sharp. But alas, it did not suit him. He much preferred jeans, a regular T-shirt, and his pair of reliable Chuck Taylor rip-offs.

In fact, he was wearing those rip-offs right now.

Danny Fenton, age 16, sat in the classroom, staring forward into nothingness. Jet black hair was messily disoriented in the playful breeze, the open window allowing fresh air in. Ice blue eyes looked forward, staring at the board that was crammed to the edges with the teacher's notes, while his right hand scribbled chicken scratches in a rapid fashion. His left hand supported his head from falling, unconsciously hiding the scar that curved along his cheekbone.

He could feel himself losing attention, nodding his head off, almost barely catching himself from slamming his nose straight into the desk. It was a boring day, a boring lecture, and school . . . it was challenging, but all the more boring. But it wasn't the classes that made it boring, it was—

And then Danny was shaken out of attention as something disgusting smacked into his cheek, and he cringed in disgust. Saliva made paper mache was stuck on his cheek, and he snapped towards his attacker's direction. A familiar face, a tuft of brown hair, and mischievous tawny eyes smiled at him. A group of teens were crowded together, pointing at him, mocking him, causing him to feel different.

'Damn kids.' he thought as he let out a sigh, and with a sideway glance (while flicking off the spitball onto the floor), he allowed his index finger to glow ominously. However, it was hidden, but he knew what to do, for he did it every so often to teach them a lesson. One little zap towards that chair, and the sickening crack was music to his ears. The prankster yelped as he fell on his bottom, hitting his head hard on the desk. Was it concussion inducing? No, for Danny knew that Bobby had no brain, being the captain of the football team. But he did relish at the sight of his teammates carrying him out as quick as a whistle, their teacher continuing with his lecture.

Immediately he felt everyone's attention on him, but he smiled, waved, and went back to writing. However, he clicked his tongue, and smirked as he softly whispered, "Feh, idiots."

No one messed with 'Bad Luck Danny,' especially if they wanted the school's poltergeist to get them. There were rumors, some had said, that Danny had a ghost that was a friend. But Danny knew perfectly what was the matter, for he was the cause of this foolish patter. But as the bell rang, Danny stood up, shifted his bag, and went out the door.

"Another school day gone," Danny said with a smile, "at least it wasn't boring as always! I'm outta here!"

He quickly went to his locker, took what he needed, and sprinted towards the bathroom. Before long he changed, dumped his 'uniform' into the locker, and went towards the front door. He was usually the first out, but not this time.

"Oy! Danny!"

Danny realized he was running too fast, and took a quick jump, and braked with a skid. He found himself standing in front of a familiar face, and a rather good friend. But this friend was not a school friend.

The guy was the janitor.

Standing a good head tall and with a lankier stature, he stood out from the rest of the normal 'height' students. Not even 20 he was working several jobs, and it showed. Dark circles were laced beneath his dark green eyes, while his sleek blond hair was messily tied back, hidden beneath his janitor's cap. The uniform he wore resembled a hazmat suit, a bright striking orange. But he was young, he was strong, and he had a hell of a lot of confidence and smarts.

Danny had first met Andre at the beginning of sophomore year. He at the time was a loner, and tended to not eat at the cafeteria. He came across the janitor scrubbing the wall, ridding them of the graffiti an expelled student had decided to mess with. When they made eye contact, Andre did something Danny had not expected. He threw a scrub brush at the halfa, and told him to clean, and Danny . . . didn't exactly say no.

From then on he'd come around whenever he had time, assisting Andre whenever he could. The school was big, and Andre, was not big enough, but he did a hell of a lot of things for it. And for that, Danny felt obliged to be his friend, which soon became a friendship that he cherished. He liked Andre, was always a good ear to speak to.

"Hey Andre," Danny piped up as he walked on over to the guy. Andre was mopping the speckless floor once again for the second time today. The man had to work for his pay. "You need help with anything?"

Andre shook his head, a good-natured smile on his lips. "Naw, I got this. It's the weekend, take a break, don't be like those adults, taking life too seriously."

Danny nodded, knowing that Andre would ask if he needed the help. "Sure thing, you too, don't be taking life so seriously!" Waving a quick goodbye, he just beat the first crowd, and sprinted out of there. Like a blade of grass caught in the wind, he sped out of there, no one able to recognize the blur.

Danny barely jumped over an exposed manhole, revealing just how tall he was. Now at the average 'male' height, he no longer had to worry about looking over people's shoulders. Weaving around the passerbys, he revealed how thin he was. But when he tripped, and barely caught himself, he exposed taunt muscles that flexed as he pushed himself upward, and back to where he was. Running once more, leg muscles ripped beneath comfy jeans, using the balls of his feet to remain nice and light.

He was not Danny of Amity, nor Danny who tended to trip over every single thing. Or so he thought, and so he hid well. A year had passed, and he had changed immensely, both due to isolation and teenager thought. And he no longer worried about the ghosts appearing, for without the Fenton Portal, they could not. Or so Frederick told him, but he did believe the man, his trusty guardian.

–
–

"I'll say this once and I'll say it again," Frederick spoke in between quiet intakes of air, "you leave yourself open when you come in to attack. Don't allow me a chance when I finally STRIKE!"

Danny jumped back as the older man attacked, his staff barely striking Danny's longest bangs. He arched his back as he allowed momentum to perform a couple of back somersaults, ending with a no-hand cartwheel, landing on the ground in a crouch. His blue eyes glared at the man before him, the man's gray eyes as cold as steel. Daily training the man said, more like a boot camp! Yet, he knew it was for his own good, and he only nodded his head as he launched himself at the man.

A twist here, a swung arm there, and Frederick began to take his steps back. Danny attacked with outstretched hands, pulling his arms back to guard open areas when he releases an attack. Bruises had formed beneath his work out clothes, but he ignored them as greater pain branched from the hit on his shoulder. He gasped as he went down onto his knees, a hand now cradling the now injured body part. Before he could retort, he felt a quick breeze, and found the man's hand a hair width away from the bridge of his nose.

He gulped, and laughed nervously.

"So I don't block when I strike?"

Frederick nodded, his eyes still cold. Danny felt himself cringe. How was he to fight against a man who could deal with any attack?! But as he thought of the audacity of the situation, the halfa spotted a rare smile from the man's face, and a confident voice spoke back to him. "And that is why I always win."

Frederick approached and pulled Danny up, and they now stood face to face.

"You have grown."

"I did, didn't I?"

Frederick rolled his eyes. "Still the same young man I met long ago," he went to collect the gym bag that rested on the side. He brought out a kit that caused Danny to cringe. But the halfa knew what the man was doing as he brought out a sanitized needle. "now let's see if your ectoplasmic count has changed."

Danny nervously pulled his arm out, and pulled back the sleeve. A dab of alcohol, and the slow insertion caused the halfa to take a deep (and necessary breath). He hated needles, and watched with a strange fascination as red liquid pooled into the large syringe. But as quickly as the tool was filled to the brim with warm thick blood, Frederick pulled it out with a 'pop,' slapping a cotton swab and bandage on top of it. "There we go, I will update you on your condition in a week."

"Sure thing Freddy."

At that a twitch, and gray eyes glared. "I prefer to be called Frederick Daniel."

And at that Danny cringed. "Fine, fine, Frederick. You old timer."

Frederick allowed a chuckle, smiling warmly now. "I will see you again soon. Do make sure to take care of yourself Danny, and keep your grades high."

Danny watched as his guardian left the training room, and Danny sighed as he shouldered his own bag, and walked out in the other direction. Despite the man's concern, he still felt distant, and it made him realize just how alone he really was. But as he stepped out onto the streets of Jump City, he immersed himself into the flowing crowd, allowing himself to be swept away in its social current.

He smiled.

'At least here, I'm never alone, am I?'

–
--

Time passed by quickly for Danny Fenton. He had shopped (for food), cooked (his meal), and had finished his homework. And it was still pretty early into the night, only a little after ten. He was not sleepy, his bright blue eyes looked upward towards the sky.

The one thing he always relished in was the view above, where the stars glittered brightly in contrast to night. The sky was cloudless, the moon was bright, and Danny felt something burning in him. He smiled a bit as he stood up from his chair, and walked towards the window. A hand placed itself on the cooling glass, and he exhaled. But his breath was not warm, not this time. It was cold, as ice, something that he now became used to, and enjoyed. It was a new power, a strange power. Bringing his hands together, he let them part, and watched as mixed oxygen and hydrogen formed an ice crystal, shimmering brightly in the moonlight.

The power to wield ice, to be one with winter, to enjoy the cold without having to succumb to it. It was almost as if his 'dead' side was one with the cold, and it probably was.

He opened the window and cold air rushed in, causing goosebumps to prickle upon his skin. But he took a deep intake of air and exhaled, allowing the cool air to fill his lungs. He shut his eyes tightly, and allowed the change to begin.

Rings of pure white appeared at his center, rising and falling in opposite directions. His casual clothes changed, and the colors of blue and red gone, reappearing as black and white. T-shirt, jeans, and shoes were replaced by a loose black hazmat suit that hung perfectly from his now broader shoulders, a snug white belt hanging from his hips. His pants were a perfect fit and resembled the looseness of his jeans, while perfectly white boots peeked from the pants cuff. His gloves of white covered once bare hands, the glove cuffs loosely hanging from his wrists. The collar of his hazmat suit was perfectly hiding his Adam's Apple, barely hiding the roots of his scars from his chest. However, there was something different from the suit.

There was another layer of material beneath it. It was like under-armor. The material covered his arms, legs, chest, torso, and more than his neck. Almost like a ninja's face mask, it covered a good part of his face. The entire outfit covered the scars that would have been easily exposed by his glowing aura. But it also emphasized his eyes, those frightening eyes.

He opened his eyes to reveal a glowing set of green. They were alarming, a shattering neon, the type of color that was remarkably florescent. But despite that shine there was a darkness in them, a loss of innocence. Anyone could tell, but no one could tell why, or what. It was a mystery that only he knew of, an answer no one could ever see.

However, there was a playful spark in his eyes. Bending his knees, he allowed his body to turn invisible, and phased right through the building. He was outside. Floating in the air, unseen by human eyes, his smile widened further as his legs jolted, and he propelled forward.

–
–

The night would begin as he floated to towards the neighbor apartment. Upon descending onto the apartment's rooftop, he allowed the energy in his body to go to his feet. A low green energy collected at the soles of his boots, and he smiled as he felt the cool energy buffer his feet from the ground. A simple push, and he glided on the rooftop. As he reached towards the edge he bent his knees, and he jumped towards the next building. Another, and another, and he went towards another, until he reaches the tallest building in Jump City. Like a tiger he coiled, and pounced outward, landing on the vertical side.

He'd skate over stone, windows, and metal, and he'd finally find himself at the very top. He panted but smirked, crossing his arms as he released the energy beneath his feet to land on solid ground. With pride he would look down at the city's bright lights, flashing in the darkness, brighting the night. He could feel energy ebb off the bulbs of light, and he enjoyed watching the livelihood of the city.

But that was not the end.

Danny's eyes were drawn upward, towards the twinkling stars, and he shot straight up into the clear night sky.

It was something else, something that felt almost instinctive. For there was never a time where he hated flying. It was amazing, an escape from the earth far below. The cold ate at his body, and he inhaled the sharp air through his nostrils, exhaling loudly. And soon enough, he felt himself laughing, carefree, bliss. And his eyes shined, they truly shined like the far off stars. But as he flew, he 'felt' something approach, causing his smile to fade away. He slowed his path of flight, and looked around.

Only to find himself face to face with an airplane.

"HOLY—" But Danny could do nothing as he was propelled down to the earth, his arms and legs flailing like a rag doll's. The pain disallowed him a clear head as he tumbled in the air, and his eyes could not see where he was going. But he knew that if he didn't work fast, his landing would hurt, and bad.

He barely looked downward and gasped. He was on a one-way trip in crashing into Titans Tower! That meant becoming a splatter of something not right, and they'd have to scrape him off of with a giant spatula. And then, and then . . . he did not want to think about it. But one thing was for sure, he had to get his act together, and FAST!

He squinted his eyes shut and he concentrated hard. He had to turn invisible, phase through, and make it out alive!

In an instant he felt his body change to both modes, and he opened his eyes as he felt himself phase through one, two, three floors. He concentrated more, kept at it. He didn't want to reappear right in the middle of the tower.

But then he felt himself flicker into view, and he gasped as he lost his concentration. He felt himself phase into something, but he did not know what. He did not even think of it as he made himself invisible and intangible once more, and he kept falling downward. Second after second, after cruelly growing second he kept his eyes shut, he kept his brow furrowed, and said not a word.

And then he felt himself fall into the numbing waters of Jump City Bay.

He gasped for air as he swam up, feeling his body go into a state of shock as he floated upward. He gagged and coughed as he rose out of the water, droplets falling into the body of water below. Shaking his head, he turned intangible, allowing the water from his body to fall away, leaving him dry as he turned invisible.

"That was close," he said to himself, glancing at Titans Tower, "and it's probably late, I better go."

He floated back towards his apartment, not even noticing the fluttering cloak that was attached to his back.

–
–

Phasing through cool glass and landing on lush carpet, Danny transformed back to his normal attire. He went straight to the bathroom, intending to take a nice hot shower after that rather eventful night. It always calmed his nerves. Closing the door, he switched on the light—

Only to find a skull to appear in the mirror.

"AH!!" Danny screamed in surprise as he stepped backwards, slipping on the bathroom carpet. He fell to the ground, and groaned as he felt a bump form at the back of his head. He grumbled as he got back up, and looked into the mirror once more. "What the?"

Slowly he brought his hands to his face, only to find dark gray gloves. They were like gauntlets, heavy but firm, and parts of it was laced with metal. A flick of the finger made him realize how amazingly protective they would be against any blade. But he continued to examine his self, or what was covering him besides his clothes.

The outfit was fitting, well formed, and it suited him. Jet black and made of both a warm and reinforced material, he moved his arms and legs. He could move freely as he did the most foolish of things, but came back to standing still. And the cape on it was ragged, and seriously looked nice. And there was a utility belt, a utility belt. And not just any utility belt, a superhero utility belt!

On the chest area of the suit was a red X, and on the mask was that same infamous insignia.

"This is . . . this is Red X's suit!" Danny said with great emphasis, clenching his gloved hands. But at the same time, he realized how sore his body felt, and cringed. He was still sore from the training session, and having gotten drenched in ice cold water, and . . . bumping his noggin.

"Sometimes I wonder how I get into these things," Danny sighed out as he phased his clothes off. Stepping into the shower, and stood in the hot water, allowing the steam to cloud his vision, thoughts, and mind.

"Ah . . . nothing beats a good shower!" Danny exclaimed as he cleaned the apartment up, making everything all neat and tidy. As he felt sleepiness approach he looked at the clock. 1:41AM it read, blinking in neon green. Exhaustion was catching up to him, but his tired eyes laid upon the Red X suit on the bed. Before he knew it he was pacing back and forth, treading a pathway in his rich red carpet, blue eyes locked on that suit.

It was the outfit of an infamous thief, one who defeated the Titans not once, but twice. That person fought with the ferocity of a beast, but so calculated that he defeated even Robin the Boy Wonder. But something must have happened, because that suit was in the Titan Tower. But when did it . . .

It hit him. When he had fallen straight through the tower, he had unphased his self for only a second. A mere second and he probably collided with the suit, phasing it with him, and onto him. And then he phased through the building, invisible as always, not sensed or seen by anyone or anything. With that suit.

"Does that mean that it's mine?"

For a moment, Danny almost looked happy at the thought, until he smacked his head with his hand. "Stupid, of course not! This is the Titans' stuff!"

He continued pacing, talking to himself, looking both weird and disturbed. "Maybe I should return it? Yeah, I could do that . . ." from an expression of joy to one of dark humor, he groaned, "YEAH RIGHT. I can imagine it. I'll walk in, shove the suit into their hands, and just TRY to tell them that I 'found' the thing. They'll look for fingerprints! DNA! Anything that'll track me down!"

Danny sat down on the guest room chair, drumming his fingers on the desk. His eyes glared at the suit. Now he realized just how crapped up the situation was.

Yet . . .

"Maybe I'm getting in over my head. Sure, that suit was 'borrowed' by me, but they probably don't know it yet." Danny stood up and took a hold of the suit, feeling the fabric. "Maybe, just maybe, I can go ahead and put it back in a day or two. They'll never notice a thing. Nothing suspicious about it. Yeah, nothing to —yawn—"

"Oh man, I gotta hit the sack." And with that he shut the light off in the guest room, and fell into his own. He released a loud exhale as he fell onto the cooling comforter, and with a final exhale, he slipped into slumber.

He'd worry about it tomorrow.

–

–

End of Chapter 2: The Devil's Fruit.

–

–

A/N: Well, howdja like that? :3 Tell me what you think, I sort of like this twist to the story. Even K.V.H. was all hyped up by it (from what I could tell when we were discussing it in the cafe). I got a good portion of the plot down, so there's already a preset storyline coinciding with the Teen Titans' timeline. So wait for a bit for the next update now~

Gs. N. Sz.