Whoever the monsters were chasing after, they were after them with a single-minded focus to be envious of. Not even the demigods on their tails were enough to distract them. It was a group of half a dozen hellhounds, and three harpies, all dead set on chasing the same thing. And whoever they were chasing, was giving them one hell of a chase. 

Percy had only noticed the commotion because he was in the city visiting his mom, and had quickly decided to call for backup as fast as he could. Ms. O’Leary had managed to drag over both Nico and Will, both fully equipped. Annabeth had been tagging along on his visit. She was currently trying to figure out where the monsters and who they were chasing were headed. After the fifth double-back, it was clear that the person running was just trying to shake off the monsters, and possibly the group of demigods too. Percy was trying to at least spot who the monsters were chasing but had yet to catch sight of anything other than a beaten, red sneaker around a corner. 

Will had managed to get a lucky shot in, killing a harpy with one of his arrows, and both Percy and Nico had each gotten a hellhound. Sometime between when the group of demigods had first spotted the monsters and now, a hellhound and a harpy had both vanished. Percy wondered if whoever they were chasing had managed to kill both monsters or if they merely had broken off from the rest of the group. But Percy was getting just a bit tired of playing chase throughout all of New York City, he had no doubt that the monsters’ target was beginning to flag too. 

The remaining four monsters quickly darted around the latest alley detour their unfortunate prey had bolted into. Percy skidded to a halt, suddenly having three hellhounds cornered in a dead-end alley, pinned against a brick wall. The harpy angrily screeched and flew over the wall to continue the chase. Between the four of them, the hell hounds didn’t stand a chance, quickly becoming piles of yellow dust. From the other side of the wall, the harpy screeched again, followed by cries of pain and fighting. 

“Shit! How did they get to the other side of the wall?” Percy cursed, before turning to Annabeth. 

Percy didn’t have to say a thing, only crouch down. Annabeth came at him in a dead sprint. It was timed perfectly, as she stepped up onto his clasped hands and he flung her to the top of the wall, pulling herself up the rest of the way. Nico took hold of Will and vanished into the shadows of the alley. 

Percy was left alone on the opposite side of the alley. Luckily for him, there was a pipe clinging to the bricks of one of the buildings. It had just enough foothold for him to quickly climb up it and perch on top of the brick wall. Below, Will was hunched over a small figure leaning against the bricks, with Annabeth standing to the side, and Nico farther back. Percy jumped down. 

Percy winced, finally getting a glimpse at the person the monsters had been chasing for the past hour, possibly longer before he and Annabeth had noticed. It was a teenage boy with a mess and thick, black hair on his head. Blood seeped heavily from his stomach, and Percy recognized the slash of harpy claws. Will was trying to get the teen to stop clutching his stomach so he could at least check the wound. The boy’s jeans looked like they had been torn up even more from the hellhounds, with two large bite marks visible on his legs. There was blood smeared on the bricks he was leaning against, suggesting another wound on his back. 

“No! I’ll be fine, you have to leave before they come back!” The teen pleaded. 

“I told you, we’ll be fine! We killed the ones who were chasing you. It’s you I’m more worried about. You’re practically bleeding out in this alley! I need to make that harpy didn’t gut you!” Will argued back. 

“You really should let him at least check, he won’t stop until you let him,” Nico added. 

Percy frowned, not liking the situation one bit. He turned to Annabeth, who was glancing between their mystery teen-likely-demigod, and the top of the wall. 

“What is it, Wise Girl?”

“I’m trying to figure out how he managed to get over that wall before the harpy could fly over.”

“There was a pipe I used to get over. He could’ve done that,” Percy offered. 

“Not with two chunks taken out of his legs. I’m surprised he even managed to run after taking damage like that,” Annabeth refuted.

Percy winced, “Yeah, he certainly looks like he’s had a pack of hellhounds on his tail for over an hour.”

“Percy!” Will called out, and he snapped to attention. 

Will had gathered the bleeding boy into his arms, finally revealing a mix of wounds across his back from both claws and talons. 

“Nico and I are taking him back to camp! The slash on his stomach is too deep, I need to treat him there,” Will rushed. 

“Got it,” Percy nodded. “Annabeth and I will meet you back at camp.”

“No,” the teen protested, but was unable to fight back, seeming to be getting weaker by the second. Will’s clothes were slowly being soaked with blood. 

“Hurry,” Nico said. 

Will nodded and the three vanished into the shadows. 

“Percy,” Annabeth called out, walking over and crouching down where the teen had been leaning against the wall. “Is it just me, or is there something off about his blood?”

Percy crouched down to get a closer look, and sure enough, there were the smallest flecks of green of all things in the blood. He didn’t like that one bit. Those monsters had to be after that teen for some reason or another, but Percy had never heard of a demigod with green flecks in their blood either. Whatever it was, the monsters really wanted him dead. 

“We should hurry back to camp,” Percy decided. 

“Yeah.”

And the two took off. 

Danny officially banned himself from the big cities, especially places as crowded as New York City. With Jazz off at college and his leash pulled tight around his parents, there was no way he was getting out of not going to their latest ghost-hunter convention. No excuses had worked, and he had tried everything from faking illness to group projects. Danny had been forcibly dragged from Illinois to NYC in the GAV. Sam and Tucker were keeping a close eye on the portal for him at the very least, and he was sure he could fly back within the day if they got overwhelmed. 

Turns out, his parents had misinterpreted ‘ghostbuster’ for ‘ghost hunter’, and ended up dragging him to a comic con instead. That was cool, and his parents were thought to be cosplayers for all of 10 minutes before security refused to let them through due to their weapons. His parents still had a presentation to do, even if people just thought they were method acting, so Danny got sent back with an armload full of weapons to dump back in the GAV. Unfortunately for him, one went off, thoroughly shorting out his powers. Danny wasn’t going to let that bother him though. He had intended to go back inside and enjoy the con, avoiding his parents the entire while, He didn’t need powers for that. 

But then the first dog monster appeared. 

Danny had thought it was a ghost at first, and with his powers shorted out, he couldn’t necessarily rely on his ghost sense. With no powers and a very aggressive possibly-a-ghost dog on his heels, Danny took off running. Before he knew it, there was a whole pack of them, literally nipping at his heels, and doing their best to tear him to shreds. The bird ladies, (harpies if he remembered correctly), joined in not long after, adding in a much harder ‘dodging’ section to the chase. He thought it was weird no one was freaking out about the dogs of the harpies, but maybe New York was just like that?

Danny knew there were people on his heels too, but he didn’t have time to stop and see if they were also hostile or not. Glancing back had earned him harpy claws to the back. Even worse, the more he bled, the more excited his pursuers seemed to get, trying even harder to tear him to shreds. The pot shots he had managed to take at the dogs and harpies were only towards the end, when the steady hum of his powers, as unreliable as they were, started to return. More of them vanished as the chase went on, and Danny was just going to assume he lost them. He had managed to hit one of each, barely catching them collapse into a yellow powder before accidentally cornering himself in an alley. 

Danny had run into the bricks first, before finally able to slip through them with intangibility. He only had a moment to breathe before the harpy flew over the wall and tackled Danny to the ground, sinking its talons into his gut. He screamed and fired off another desperate ectoblast that missed by a wide margin. 

Danny got to meet his second group of pursuers as two people emerged from the shadows in the alley. One had immediately turned into nothing more than a black blur to Danny’s eyes, forcing the harpy off of him. He had tried to stand up to face the new possible threat, but blood loss forced Danny against the brick wall behind him, sliding down it and likely tearing open the wounds on his back even further. His vision blurred, and Danny was only able to make out golden blonde hair and a bright orange t-shirt approaching him. 

Danny cried out, clutching his stomach while trying to force himself back to his feet. The blonde forced themself between Danny and the view of the fight behind him. There was an impact to his left, and Danny was able to make out another person-shaped blur, also blonde with an orange shirt, who took off to help with the fight. 

“Hey!” The one in front of him tried to get his attention, but he could barely make out the rest of what they said. His head was feeling uncomfortably light. 

Danny struggled for a moment and got his vision to barely focus, but he was able to make out that the person in front of him was a guy and seemed really concerned. 

“Hey, I need you to let me see your wound. I’m a medic, I can help,” the guy demanded. 

Danny immediately recoiled. 

“No! I’ll be fine, you have to leave before they come back!” Danny didn’t want anyone here if there were more possibly-ghosts on his tail. He couldn’t use his powers around other people!

“I told you, we’ll be fine! We killed the ones who were chasing you. It’s you I’m more worried about. You’re practically bleeding out in this alley! I need to make sure that that harpy didn’t gut you!” The medic argued back. 

“You really should let him at least check, he won’t stop until you let him,” a second voice butted in. He sounded like he was underwater. 

The blonde guy said something else, but Danny couldn’t tell what. There was suddenly a hand on his wrist and he attempted to struggle, but the stranger had a vice grip. He forced Danny’s arm away from his stomach, then said something else. It… probably… hopefully looked a lot worse than it really was. Danny had taken hard hits before and still got up. He had to get away. 

Danny felt the hands on him re-adjust and tried to struggle again, but he felt so heavy. He grit his teeth and thrashed as best as he could, but his limbs barely responded. He could feel how absolutely soaked his clothing was though. He was being picked up and the entire world tilted around him. The second person approached, nothing more than a dark blob in Danny’s vision. 

His jumbled senses refused to give him anything else before darkness crept in in more ways than one, and Danny passed out. 

Danny woke up to acute, stinging pain, taking in a sharp breath that caused him to choke. His vision swam in white while he practically hacked out a lung. In less than a second, there was a supportive hand on his back practically propping him up, before slowly lowering him once again. Danny blinked the light out of his eyes, trying to see where he had ended up this time. 

Well, good news, it wasn’t a government facility. Bad news, Danny appeared to be in an infirmary of some kind. The wood interior betrayed it as some sort of cabin, despite its purpose. Danny winced at the familiar sensation of pulling on healing wounds. 

“Sorry, but you might not want to move too much just yet,” a voice apologized. 

Danny snapped to the person standing over him. An older teen with golden blond hair, tanned skin, and light blue eyes. He was definitely familiar, and Danny wondered if this was the same guy from the alley. 

“I just finished with your stitches not that long ago, but now that you’re awake, we can get some ambrosia into you to finish healing the rest of your injuries,” the guy continued. “But you should probably still take it easy for a while.”

Danny just blinked, openly staring at the guy giving him medical advice. He had no idea what ambrosia was. Also stitches, while normally a good thing, was a bad thing for Danny. He was going to end up healing, or burning through them. He prodded just the slightest bit at his core… and good, his powers were back. Which now left his other issue. His caretaker had left his side to go retrieve something from one of the cabinets. 

“Not that I don’t appreciate the medical care, but who are you? And also where am I?” Danny asked. 

The older teen blinked, turning back to Danny. “Oh right! Sorry, guess we forgot introductions due to the circumstances. I’m Will Solace, head of the Apollo Cabin. You’re currently at Camp Half-Blood right now.”

Danny stared at Will, rotating the names in his head. ‘Half-blood’, huh? That certainly said something, but Danny didn’t know what. He wondered if it was a joke of some kind. 

“I’m Danny,” he introduced himself, just giving his first name. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Danny. I’m sure the others are going to be eager to meet you. It’s not often that someone can outrun a group of hellhounds and harpies for that long!” Will praised. 

Danny mouthed the word ‘hellhounds’ in light confusion. Well, at least he got confirmation that other people knew about the dog monsters and bird ladies. He could also rule them out of being ghosts, since Danny had never encountered a ghost that turned into dust after being defeated. 

Will walked back over and placed a small, parchment paper-covered square in his hand. Danny opened it, revealing something that looked like a small lemon square. He sniffed it, getting a citrusy and spiced scent. Weird combination, but a snack was a snack.  

“I know I gave you a whole square but-” Will started, only to yelp as Danny popped the whole square in his mouth without hesitation. 

It tasted pretty close to how it smelt, but had an odd texture, like fudge instead of a lemon bar, but also uncomfortably chewy. It kind of reminded him of ectoplasm in the strong citrus flavor, but lemon instead of lime. The spices were really warm in his mouth like hot cinnamon, instead of the cool tingly flavor he kinda liked from ectoplasm. 

“You weren’t supposed to eat the whole thing!” Will exclaimed, and Danny swallowed. 

Will was on Danny in an instant, checking his temperature with the back of his head. Apparently, he didn’t like what he felt and stuck a thermometer into Danny’s mouth. The thermometer beeped after a moment, and Will snatched it, checking the numbers. His legs and back itched, but Danny couldn’t scratch at them due to his stomach injury, which also itched. 

“Well, you’re not going to burst into flames at least. You’re not even heating up, if anything you’re hypothermic,” Will announced.  

It took him a moment to realize why Will was freaking out, but Danny figured it out eventually. If the terrible lemon square was like ectoplasm, then it was very much not intended for normal consumption without consequences. Will’s words caught up to him then. 

“Wait? Flames?” Danny asked, bewildered. 

“Ambrosia, the food of the gods, can cause normal people to burst into flames. For people like us, eating too much can cause some pretty bad fevers and internal damage,” Will explained. 

That made sense if it was like ectoplasm. But- “What do you mean ‘people like us’?”

Will’s face scrunched up. “Well, um. I’ve only had to give this talk a few times. I’m not normally the one to do it but…” Will made eye contact with Danny. “What do you know about Greek mythology?”

The question seemed a bit left-field to Danny. “A decent amount, I think.” There were ghosts that resembled Greek myths, usually closer to Pandora’s place. 

“Well, it’s not as mythological as it may seem. Everything from monsters, as I’m sure you're familiar with by now, to the gods themselves is very real,” Will said like it was supposed to be some sort of big revelation. 

Danny processed the information. So the ‘hellhounds’, as Will called them, were Greek monsters, not ghosts. Didn’t like that. He liked that they had decided he was a chew toy even less. 

“Okay… and? That revelation didn’t answer the question.”

This time, it was Will’s turn to look gobsmacked for a moment before continuing. “Well, the gods didn’t go anywhere and still exist in modern times. And sometimes they come down and… interact with mortals,” Will added hesitantly. 

Danny remained silent. He still didn’t get where the blonde was going with this. He was very tempted to start picking at the stitches in his stomach. 

Will seemed to give up with whatever subtly he had been attempting. “Demigods. We’re demigods. You, me, most people at this camp.”

“Oh.”

Danny knit his brows together, crossing his arms and frowning, thinking it over. He wasn’t a demigod, that’s for sure. He wasn’t half-god, but half-ghost. Sure, Danny knew there were some pretty terrifying spirits in the Ghost Zone who could easily be mistaken for gods, so it was possible there was a mix-up with him here too. 

“After the monsters and the fact that you didn’t burst into flames after eating the ambrosia, yeah, that pretty much confirms you’re a demigod,” Will said. 

Danny did not want to be involved in whatever this mess was. He had enough problems in Amity Park. 

“Okay, cool. So, um. I’m a demigod, great. What am I supposed to do with that information?” Danny asked. He wanted to leave. His parents would notice eventually he had gone missing sooner or later. 

“Well, Camp Half-Blood exists as a sort of ‘safe spot’, and also a training ground. Monsters can’t get in here. It’s technically a summer camp, but we have campers who stay here both seasonally and year-round. It’s considered really dangerous to be all on your own. You’re probably the oldest new camper we’ve had in a while. Most tend to make their way here between 10 to 12 years old.”

“Do I have to come here?” 

Danny did not want to be forced to attend demigod camp. Being out of Amity Park for a week was terrible, but an entire summer? Yeah, no way. 

Will frowned. “Not… really, but-”

The door to the cabin opened, and another older teenager walked in. Tall, dark hair and sea green eyes. Danny didn’t recognize him at all.

“Hey, Will!” The new guy greeted, before noticing Danny stare at him. “Cool, you’re awake. Did Will give you the whole ‘congrats, you’re a demigod’ speech yet?”

“Percy,” Will practically whined. “I can’t believe you left that to me, but yeah, I did.” Will looked back at Danny. “Danny, this is Percy Jackson, he was part of the group who found you and brought you here. Percy, this is Danny,” Will introduced. 

Danny still didn’t recognize Percy, but he acknowledged that bleeding out on the ground wasn’t especially good for recall. 

“Thanks for the save. I like not being turned into bird food.”

Percy snorted a laugh and Will sighed. “No problem. I didn’t do much. The main people you have to thank is Will here and Nico, wherever he’s at.”

“Probably sleeping,” Will hummed in thought. 

“Probably,” Percy agreed. “By the way Danny, do you have any idea who your godly parent might be? A few of us like to make friendly bets when we get a new kid. I’ve got money on Hermes.”

Danny didn’t get a chance before Will butted back in. 

“Percy, he’s been up just long enough for me to get some ambrosia in him. I literally just explained the whole ‘demigod’ thing,” Will scolded. 

Percy gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry. So, what’d the ambrosia taste like? I know it throws a lot of people off when they first try some,” Percy asked, directing the question towards Danny. 

“Like a lemon bar someone decided to melt an entire bag of red hots in,” Danny described. “So, bad.” 

Both Percy and Will blinked, before Percy snorted, “That’s a new one.”

“It’s not supposed to taste bad. It usually tastes like something you really like,” Will explained. 

“Darn, I guess,” Danny shrugged. “Anyways, I do have to leave.”

“Leave? You’re not sticking around?” Percy asked, surprised. 

Danny shook his head. “Nope. I’m only in New York for a convention with my parents. They’ll probably notice I’m missing sooner or later,” Danny answered truthfully. 

Percy seemed to think about something before asking, “Are you healed up enough to at least get a tour? I understand if you have to go, but it’d probably be a good idea to at least get your hands on a weapon just in case you get attacked again.”

That, Danny could agree to. He wiggled a bitin his bed a bit, noticing that the itching had finally subsided. His stomach was still a bit sore, but other than that, and the stitches that sorely needed to be removed, he was fine. 

“Sure,” Danny said, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side. 

Will seemed dumbfounded but wasn’t able to get the words out before Percy declared, “Neat. Then let’s go!”

And Danny managed to escape the infirmary. 

Percy decided he liked Danny. He was laid back and friendly enough, giving just as much snark as he got. From what he had heard, a lot of new campers tended to freak out for at least an hour, but Danny took it all in stride, more exasperated than shocked. It was a little odd, but Percy brushed it off as just part of Danny’s personality. It wasn’t a bad trait to have. 

Percy made sure to give a decent tour as they made their way to the weapons shed. He asked questions and answered some, learning that Danny was originally from a place called Amity Park in Illinois. His parents were here for the Comic Con, and Danny got dragged along. He said he had always been quick on his feet. Percy really hoped Danny would come back for the summer, even if he couldn't stay now. He told Danny all the demigod basics, from what ‘claiming’ was, how the camp was laid out, and even some of the activities they participated in when there were more people around. 

From the weapons shed, Danny ended up picking a bronze short sword and was given a sheath to go with it. He told Percy that he knew how to use it just a bit from a couple of martial arts classes. He told Danny to come back and he could personally teach him how to sword fight like a pro. 

But throughout the whole tour, Percy picked up on the nonchalance Danny seemed to have, more like he was a tourist instead of someone who had finally found a place to stay. He definitely wasn’t planning on coming back, but he might anyway. Percy knew personally very well that plans rarely went according to plan. They got plenty of attention while walking around, since news of Danny’s chase had already managed to spread throughout the camp. There were some jeers and encouragement from people who tried to recruit him for Capture the Flag. Percy claimed he already called dibs. Danny just laughed. 

They were somewhere near the pavilion when it happened. 

Percy had just managed to convince Danny to at least stick around for dinner. A bright symbol appeared over Danny’s head, causing everyone who had been gathering to pause. Percy recognized the symbol, but never over anyone’s head in a claiming. It wasn’t a symbol that should even be possible to appear.

The air in camp changed immediately, and Danny noticed just as fast. His stance changed from lax into defensive. He knew how to fight a lot better than he let on, or perhaps it was just instinct. Percy hoped it was instinct. 

“What’s that? What’s going on?” Danny practically demanded. 

“You’ve been claimed,” Percy stated, more in horror than awe. 

“Claimed? By who?” Danny was just as confused as everyone else seemed to be. 

But Danny didn’t understand, he didn’t know. It was impossible, it was catastrophic, even. Danny didn’t realize just how bad this was.

“Son of Cronos,” someone hissed. 

Danny finally seemed to get the memo then, his facial expression going from confusion, to shock, to realization, and then to irritation of all things.

“Ancients, of course he did,” Danny growled under his breath. 

Percy had to act fast, he had to- his hand slipped right through Danny’s wrist, who leaped back out of reach at the same time Percy moved.

“Yeah, I’m leaving now,” Danny said. “Thanks for the sword and the tour, but I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Percy called out, jumping towards Danny again. 

He vanished. No flash, no sound, just gone, leaving only footprints behind. 

Percy cursed under his breath in a thorough mix of both Greek and Latin. He took a glance towards the head table, where Mr. D and Chiron were both also staring. Chiron looked like he had just aged 40 years, and Mr. D looked about ready to break his sobriety with something much stronger than wine and deeply, deeply exhausted. 

Sam and Dean had gotten this particular lead from Bobby, who in turn got it passed onto him from someone else, so it wasn’t a surprise this particular job was a mess. 

Apparently, a group of vampire’s had decided a weird, underground, government bunker would be the perfect hideout, resulting in a bloodbath between the government goons and the vamps. It was a large group too, which was a point of concern among the hunter’s who turned down the job. No one really knew who’d won inside between the vampires and the government, but Dean had placed his money on the vampires. He honestly doubted that some government agency with an obsession for the color white had any idea what they were up against, much less the correct tools for the job. Dean got proved wrong when they came across the first dead vampire. 

The bunker’s fluorescent lights were harsh against the darkness outside. The entire base still seemed to have power despite not being connected to any sort of power grid or system. It had made it an absolute pain in the ass to find, but at least that meant Sam and Dean didn’t have to wander around in the dark. The harsh lighting and bleached interior revealed a slaughter inside, staining the white walls with both vampire and human blood, leaving very little to imagination. The humans, all agents in once-white suits, looked to have been mauled by the vamps, while the dead vampires had holes blasted through them and were covered in green-tinged burns. Dean kicked one, trying to make sure it was actually dead. Yep, dead vamp, the whole place unfortunately smelled like it too. 

Sam had found one of the more physically intact agents with a large bazooka-like weapon next to him at the back of the hallway. Rummaging through the agency's pocket’s Sam tossed the ID card over for Dean to read over, while Sam picked up the weapon. 

Dean flipped open the wallet, and huffed when the agent was only referred to by a letter and position. No personal information whatsoever. 

“This asshole is apparently ‘Agent B, senior heavy weapon specialist of the Ghost Investigation Ward’, which means shit to me,” Dean complained. 

“‘Ghost Investigation Ward’? Is that supposed to be some sort of knockoff hunter’s group? Because points for vampire killing, less points for dying,” Sam added. “Either way, they were messing around with something supernatural, and had weapons that could blast straight through a vampire. Think we could find something here?”

Dean shrugged, “I’m down to take their weapons at the least. New tactics are always appreciated.”

Sam took the bazooka, and Dean picked up any other weapons of interest, from weighted nets, to more guns, storing them in piles to collect and ferry to the car later. The ID got them access to a couple more rooms, including a security camera and file room, which Sam said he was going back to later. The deeper they descended into the base, the more spaced out the bodies were, and the more violently the agents had seemed to fight, like they were protecting something. 

“Do you think they actually managed to catch a ghost here?” Sam tossed out. 

Dean snorted, “Doubt it. Sure, you can blast a hole through a vamp, but you can’t blast a hole through a ghost. Just trapping one is a pain, let alone moving it to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Illinois.” 

Hydraulic doors hissed as the brothers entered the next level, only to pause from the sudden change in pattern. This one opened up into a laboratory, partitioned off by thick glass walls, rather than the collection of offices and storage the upper floors had been.  

Dean’s eyes narrowed at the carnage inside the laboratories. 

“What the hell were they taking apart that bleed fucking green?” Dean cursed.

Dean completely ignored the bodies of who he assumed had been the scientists. There were tons of vials of various liquids, most of them being that same saturated, radioactive green. There were also jars, lots of jars, of what he assumed were the bits and pieces of whatever creature bled green. 

“Doesn’t look like whatever they were dissecting was dead while they were taking apart,” Sam commented, pointing out the restraints on the bloodied autopsy table. 

“Fuck, that’s sick. At least kill whatever you're taking apart first.” 

Dean watched as Sam went over to a stack of papers, filing through them quickly with a grimace on his face.

 “Well, they seem to believe they caught a ghost, at least. They definitely caught something before the vampires wiped them out. The reports refer to it as Subject P-1.”

“Think it’s still here?” Dean asked. 

“Maybe. This report is a few days old, and we know the vampires attacked within that same time frame, so it’s possible that ‘P-1’ is either still here, dead here, or managed to escape in the crossfire,” Sam guessed.

“I suppose we’ll find out. We only got one more level to go.”

Dean left the lab, going down the elevator to the last level. There was nothing there, except for a singular glass cell with what looked like a blast door as its entrance, all shining with some sort of green energy. There seemed to be automated weapons and cameras all pointing at the cell, and Dean considered it a bit extreme. But also down there was the biggest collection of dead vampires they had found so far. 

The weapons in the room had obviously activated for whatever reason, considering the number of vampires with holes blown through them compared to the agents, of which there only seemed to be two, who looked more like they had also been caught in the crossfire of the weapons, rather than becoming vampire food like most of the guys upstairs.  

“Dean…” Sam shoved him, and pointed to the cell. There was…something inside. 

Dean walked over, shoving bodies out of the way with his foot to stand in front of the cell. The green… whatever it was, shone along the glass and hummed with energy, reminding Dean vaguely of an electrified fence. The inside of the cell was a mess but in a different way than outside. It reminded Dean of a few of the cells he had seen monsters hold people in before. It was dirty, and covered in blood, both red and that unknown green. There was no cot, or toilet, or any other sort of accommodation. 

The only thing in the cell was a small figure, dressed in nothing but tattered scrubs, and covered in its own blood balled up in the corner, head between its legs. Dean could only make out pale, emancipated legs and feet, and a mess of matted, black hair. 

“Is it alive?” Dean asked, tapping on the glass, which surprisingly didn’t zapped him.

Sam had a grimace on his face. “I…think.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted. 

No reaction. 

Dean pounded more heavily on the glass with his fist, “Hey! Are you alive?”

No reaction. 

“Are you P-1?” Sam asked instead. 

This got a reaction. The figure picked up their head, placing empty, hollow, and frighteningly blue eyes on Sam. They seemed to be a young boy, face pale and thin, deep bags under his eyes. His eyes were glassy and distant, looking through Sam rather than at him. 

“Well, that’s unnerving,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a look before shoving his shoulder. “Tell him to do something else.”

Sam frowned, thinking for a moment before saying anything. “P-1, state your status,” Sam commanded. 

The boy, P-1, remained silent.

“I don’t think it talks, Sammy,” Dean snorted. 

Sam sputtered indignantly. “What do you want me to do then? We know he’s P-1 now, and that he’s still somehow alive.”

“Well, we know he ain’t human, and that he’s whatever these goons have been picking apart. No clue what he is, but in that state, I doubt he can do much. The lights are one but no one seems to be home, Sammy,” Dean said. 

It was a harsh suggestion but, “We could just put him down and be done with it. The vamps are all dead, there’s nothing here except braindead P-1 over there.”

Sam, apparently, very much disagreed with that idea. “He’s a kid, Dean! And he’s been tortured for who knows how long. We’re not putting him down!”

Dean groaned. “Do you want to take him with us or something?!” Dean asked incredulously. 

Sam was silent, apparently thinking over the idea like it was a legitimate suggestion. 

“No,” Dean immediately denied. “Nope, no way, Sammy. We’re not adopting whatever-the-fuck that kid is. He’s not a dog. We have no idea what he’s capable of, let alone if he’s dangerous!” 

 “Then we keep an eye on him! You said it yourself, in that state, I doubt he can barely move. We could even put him in Bobby’s panic room if he acts up, but honestly,” Sam glanced over to the boy, “I doubt he would even notice.”

Dean hated the idea. He didn’t want the kid to potentially go ballistic, and there had to be some reason he was locked up in the first place. But he couldn’t think of any other reasons to leave the kid there. If anything, they could figure out what the kid was so that they knew how to defeat anything like him in the future. 

“Fine!” Dean relented. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Sam seemed to untense and turned back to the boy. “P-1, move to the door,” he ordered, before more quietly adding, “We’re getting you out of here, kid.”

The boy stood up, swaying on his legs, before approaching the door, standing just outside of it. Dean watched as Sam fidgeted with the door, before eventually having to pull another ID from one of the nearby agents to get the door open. Sam led the kid out, who didn’t have much of a reaction at all. Dean frowned at how small the kid was, now that he could get a better estimate literally standing next to him. He couldn’t be older than 12. 

“Okay, we’re leaving. We got some cool things and you’ve adopted a weird kid. We can confirm the vampires all died here too. Anything else we need to grab before we go back?” Dean huffed. 

“I’m going to see what I can pull from the record room on the way back. Could you take him back to the car?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked at the kid again. Yep. No one home at all. He doubted the kid even knew what was going on. At least he wouldn’t complain about Dean’s music choices. 

“Fine, but you take too long and I’m leaving your ass here,” Dean stated. “Come-on, P-1.”

Dean took the elevator back up the entrance, still careful to check around if they had missed anything still-alive, only to have silence. The kid barely made any noise as he moved, Dean decided he didn’t like that after the third time he jumped at the kid standing directly behind him. 

“I’m getting you a bell,” he grumbled. 

Back at the car, Dean tossed his looted weapons into the trunk, glancing at the kid before rummaging into his and Sam’s duffles for some spare clothes. It looked really suspicious to have a bloodied kid in a medical gown walking around. It would be oversized, but Dean grabbed a flannel, jeans, and a belt. Bobby would probably have something from when he and Sam were that small. 

“Hey, kid, P-1, put these on,” Dean held the clothes out to the kid, who didn’t react. 

Dean groaned. “Oh come on! This is why Sam’s your caretaker. I don’t know how to dress a kid!” 

Dean approached. “Gotta fucking command him like a dog,” he muttered. “P-1, arms up.”

The boy raised his arms, and Dean untied the medical gown letting it fall to the ground. Dean froze, bile building in the back of his throat, fighting the urge to throw up. Images of the jars and vials passed behind his eyes. No wonder the kid was mentally gone, Dean couldn’t see anyone surviving, let alone living long enough to walk out.

Grunkle Ford was on a warpath, and Dipper was helpless to stop it. The mad dash from the gas station to back to the Mystery Shack was enough to leave him breathless for several minutes, and gave Ford enough time to devolve into a frenzy of preparation and catastrophizing. Dipper could barely keep up with Ford’s ramblings, the very little of it that made sense to him at least. There was too little that made sense, and his Grunkle was not giving him any sort of explanation or at least letting him mentally catch up. 

“Grunkle Ford!” Dipper shouted, finally both catching his breath, and Ford’s attention. “Explain what’s going on!”

Ford paused for a minute, before taking in a deep breath, as if he hadn’t been breathing, before leveling a tense, worried glance at Dipper, before returning to work at a much more controlled pace. 

“That boy, or well, what’s possessing him, is dangerous beyond belief,” Ford started, sinking into one of the chairs scattered about his lab. 

“There are many beings across many different dimensions, but there are some that exist between dimensions. Spirits, ghosts, even gods. But they can’t exist on the physical planes very long, due to the amount of energy they need. If this one has been here for months, then something is very wrong. I honestly doubt there’s much left of the boy it’s been using as a vessel. We need to find it, and exorcise it before it can cause more damage.”

Dipper blinked owlishly, processing for a second before it hit him, “You want to exorcise a god?” 

“I doubt it’s actually a god, more likely a spirit of some sort, or simply a powerful ghost. Either way, the same methods will work no matter what it is. Though I fear it’s too late for the boy, he’s as good as dead,” Ford explained while answering nothing. 

“What?!” It was Dipper’s turn to panic. 

“They’re not meant for this plane, they need a host of some sort to stay for any extended period. No wonder that boy looked ill enough to be confused for a vampire. But with the way their blood has been mixed, there’s no separating them now. Best get it in its current vessel, while it’s weakening.”

“If… If there’s no separating them, then why do we have to go after him?” Dipper asked. 

The… spirit guy hadn’t done anything. Dipper already felt horrible about the entire situation. There were plenty of magical creatures already living in Gravity Falls, he didn’t see why they had to go after this one in particular. 

Ford gave Dipper a look that was likely intended to be sympathetic. “After this vessel fails, it will go after another, it has to. Even if it ‘doesn’t do anything’, that doesn’t mean it’s harmless. It’s already taken at least one life, best not let it get another,” Ford paused, taking out the machete, scraping the multi-colored blood into a vial, and into one of the many machines on his workbench, before discarding the machete into a corner. 

“There’s no guarantee of this, but there is a non-zero chance that this spirit is working with Cipher. We can’t take any chances that he could get his hands on the rift.” 

Dipper frowned, unable to picture Danny, worn and looking more exhausted than Dipper did after two all-nighters, working with someone like Bill Cipher. But he knew how manipulative Bill could be, the chance was non-zero. Danny looked like he’d do it for a decent sleep. 

“Fine… I… I don’t like this. But, fine,” Dipper gave in. 

The machine beeped, and Ford connected a different, handheld device to it. 

“But… how are we even supposed to catch something like that?” Dipper asked. 

Ford gave a confident smile, pulling the handheld device off the other after it gave a small ‘beep’, showing it off. “This device will allow us to track it based on its unique energy signature,” Ford explained. “From there, trapping it shouldn’t be too difficult, especially since we have some leftover unicorn hair from Mabel.”

 Dipper swallowed the uncomfortable feeling in the back of his throat, before putting on a nervous, tense smile. 

“I guess we’ve got a ghost to catch, then.”

Danny Fenton had not expected to encounter ghost hunters in nowhere, Oregon. In fact, he had run as far as he practically could to and from any and all locations that could potentially have ghost hunters. Gravity Falls, as odd as it was, was supposed to be safe. It was only be coincidence that it had just enough ambient ectoplasm in the air to keep him going. The veil was worn thin here. 

Gravity Falls was supposed to be safe, and it had been, Danny supposed, for all of 2 months. He had only managed to get the nightshift at the only gas station in town because no one else had wanted it, too scared of whatever metaphorically haunted the night. Sure, the gnomes were weird but they were paying customers, and he had to occasionally chase Old Mac Mcgucket out from under the dumpster, but this was the closest to normalcy Danny had experienced since getting chased from Amity Park. Gravity Falls was just weird enough that Danny was able to fly under the radar. 

There were also the kids. Mabel and her gang of girls who dragged her twin brother around. Then the group of teens (who were not always paying customers, unlike the gnomes, but Danny was not a snitch), but he didn’t have any problems. At least not until the brother had decided he was a vampire charming his sister. He had thought the kid had been joking, and Danny had laughed him off, claiming girls were just ‘like that’ sometimes. (Danny did not want to think about Paulina’s Phantom Phan Club and their treatment of him anytime soon). The kid was apparently serious enough to find someone who believed him, and Danny’s cover was blown clear out of the water. 

The silver was expected, the machete and the solid iron cross were not. Danny didn’t know he reacted to solid iron until it burned him, and that old man tried to lop his head off. He was lucky that the camera’s in the store were dummies, otherwise Danny wouldn’t be surprised if the GIW made a grand appearance. No one other than the kid and the old man had seen him use his powers. He hadn’t expected them to actually be competent vampire hunters. 

Danny had fled back to the old hunting shack he’d been staying in. No one had been there in years before Danny had decided to haunt the place, so he’d figured it would be safe enough. He clutched at the cut on the side of his neck, forcing whatever energy he could spare towards healing it with gritted teeth. That old man had tried to kill him, full and in earnest. 

After two months of being a normal human being, Danny had forgotten just how much a look like that hurt him. But at least it was from a stranger this time (even if he was vaguely familiar). It was worse when it had been someone he knew. It was worse when he knew they intended to draw out his suffering for the crime of his existence. The old man was practically merciful in that regard. But merciful or not in comparison, he had still tried to kill Danny. He probably couldn’t go back to work then. 

Danny started the process of packing, fitting the few belongings, some newer than others into his backpack when the hairs along his neck raised. It was nothing compared to his ghost sense, but Danny knew better than to ignore any sense of danger he could. He dropped his things and clicked off the battery powered camping light he used to light the space. He locked the door and closed the curtains in the same second, hunkering down, pushing his hearing as hard as he could to hear whatever was approaching the cabin, fingers crossed it was just the multi headed-bear again. 

There were voices, very quiet, and Danny couldn’t pick up what they were saying from so far away, but there were two of them, one old and the other young. Danny hunched even deeper into the corner cabin, as far from the windows as he could. It was likely the same pair from the store. Danny didn’t think they could find him this quickly. It had been, what, maybe a few hours at most? They must’ve found a way to track him. Images of all of his parent’s ghost tracking devices came to mind. He hoped, with all he had, that they hadn’t gotten one from his parents. Either way, he would have to run, run far and fast as he could to get out range of the tracker, and mark another location off as uninhabitable. 

Danny gathered what energy he had to spare, letting it buzz just underneath his skin, and finished tossing the absolute necessities into his bag before transforming and launching himself into the air. 

Danny collided hard with what he had almost assumed was the wall of the cabin. He blinked the spots and stars out of his vision, feeling a tingling, pins-and-needles sensation burn over his skin. He was still about half a foot from the wall, he hadn’t run into it. Danny slowly reached out to touch the wall, and was met with a shimmering barrier several inches from the wall, sending pins and needles at contact. He pushed against it, sending more sparks over his skin, until the sensation became painful and repulsed him away. 

Danny painted against the threadbare carpet, more panic building under his skin, joining the burning of his ectoplasm. Danny traced the barrier, hoping for a hole. It curved around the single room of the cabin in a lopsided circle, leaving only the path the door free from obstruction. That wasn’t an option. Danny watched the barrier cautiously. It wasn’t ectoplasmic in nature, he would’ve had a much stronger reaction to running into it if it was but… it moved, shocking him in the process, pulling in tighter, still leaving the door as the only exit. 

Danny cursed a vile string of words across a smattering of languages, living and dead. They weren’t going to give him a choice, they intended to drag him out, slowly tightening their noose of a barrier until he was forced outside. Danny hissed at the invisible barrier, before taking a steadying breath, and becoming human again to try his typical escape tactic. It wasn’t one of his parents' barriers, he should be able to get out like- it zapped him again. Danny couldn’t get out. He was going to die here. 

Danny screamed, desperation, frustration, and fear spilling from him all at once.

Dipper’s knee’s almost buckled at the sound of whatever was screeching inside. The whole cabin shook with the force and power behind it, shattering the remaining glass in the windows. Dipper did his very best to swallow his fear, looking towards Grunkle Ford for reassurance. 

Ford had something between a grimace and a grin on his face. “Looks like we made it mad.” 

Ford continued pulling in the end of the rope that he had Dipper run around the cabin. He had said it was some kind of unicorn-hair laced rope, completely slipping through anything non-magical, and only snagging the supernatural. It also made a decent portable, if makeshift barrier as well. He had hammered the end of it, tied up in a slip knot in the end, slowly pulling the rope in. Dipper stayed carefully behind Ford as the barrier closed in. 

Dipper jumped when the door to the cabin creaked open, but nothing seemed to be there. Ford just continued to pull the rope in, eyes not leaving the space just above the rope. 

Ford dropped the rope standing further back from their oblong barrier, which now had less than two yards of diameter inside. 

“We can wait here all night, you’re not going anywhere. Might as well show yourself,” Ford growled. 

A figure flickered into visibility, vaguely reminding Dipper the ghosts haunting the only convenience store, and the ones from Pacifica’s party. It was Danny from the convenience store, looking several times more exhausted than he had earlier that night, with burns up and down his arms. His eyes blazed that same bright green that Dipper had only managed a glimpse of in the store. He was curled into himself, glaring at the rope, sharp teeth bared. His eyes seemed to linger on their tracker, glazing over Dipper, before settling venomously on Ford. Something in Dipper’s mind couldn’t seem to connect the earlier shriek to the person… to the spirit in front of him. 

“Well?” Danny rasped out. “You’ve managed to drag me out. What now?”

“Release the boy you’re possessing, spirit,” Ford demanded. 

Dipper held his breath as something in Danny’s expression shifted, mouth closing into a frown. 

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?!” 

Danny did not break eye contact with Ford, and Dipper was grateful to be ignored. 

“I’m not possessing anybody. This is my own body.”

“If that was true, then you would’ve dissipated a long time ago, spirit. Your kind can’t stay on this plane very long,” Ford argued. 

Danny huffed. “Know something about ghosts, don’t you? Normally you’re right, but not in this case. I’m as physical as you are. This has been my body since the day I was born.”

Dipper glazed up at Ford, finding his brows knit together. “That’s impossible. You’d either have to be possessing your own corpse or-”

“Of not fully dead. Bingo,” Danny confirmed blandly. 

“That’s impossible,” Ford denied. 

“Impossible things happen sometimes.”  

Dipper was actually able to see the resignation on Danny’s face, and his own guilt resurfaced. Ford was beginning to look conflicted too. He had wanted to end the ghost because he was a threat, and could possibly leave people hurt. 

“That depends, spirit.”

Danny’s gaze actually landed on Dipper, recognition filling the other’s gaze before drifting away. 

“Depends on what?” 

“First, what are your intentions here in Gravity Falls?”

“Nothing, really,” Danny seemed to respond earnestly. “I don’t want any trouble, just to lay low for a bit.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “What reason could a spirit have to stay low?”

Danny looked away. “Are you familiar with the GIW?”

The name caught in Dipper’s ears, completely unfamiliar. 

“They’re government goons. A bunch of idiots chasing things far above their understanding.” Apparently not unfamiliar to Grunkle Ford. 

“And what do you think they would do to someone like me, who they believe is completely non-sentient, nothing more than an echo of consciousness over energy?” Danny asked back. 

Something about how Danny described spirits and ghosts didn’t sit right with Dipper. A good collection of the monsters were sentient, and Dipper couldn’t imagine how people could see someone like Danny and claim he wasn’t. 

“Running from the government,” Ford huffed. “A lackluster reason. Fine,” Ford practically spat the admission. “Then secondly, how are you possibly getting enough energy to stay here? Your kind need massive amounts of energy, just to stay physical.”

Danny crossed his arms. “Eating food. You know, like a person. Other than that, the veil is thin here. There’s enough ambient energy that I’m doing just fine.”

‘The veil is thin here’? Dipper wondered if it was due to the portal. From the look on Ford’s face, probably. 

“You haven’t been feeding off of anyone?”

Danny just look straight up confused this time. “No, I thought we already cleared the ‘vampire’ charges?”

Ford looked a bit miffed at that response, and Dipper was beginning to let relief fill him. Danny really wasn’t hurting anyone but…

“Lastly, are you working with, for, or alongside the dimensional being known as Bill Cipher?”

Dipper could see genuine confusion on Danny’s face, more so than the ‘feeding’ question. “No… no. I have no idea who that is.”

“None at all?” Ford pushed. 

“None,” Danny confirmed, crossing his arms. 

Things fell silent then, Danny staring at them, while Ford seemed to try and fit things together. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Still going to take my head off with your machete?” Danny asked. 

“Machetes don’t work on spirits,” Ford retorted back. 

“Okay… your point?”

Dipper suddenly had an idea, probably not a good one, but, “Hey Grunkle Ford?” Dipper tugged on Ford’s sleeve to get his attention. 

“What if we enlist Danny’s help against Bill… or something like that? Some kind of, um… agreement so he can’t hurt anyone, but we could also use his help? Aren’t spirits really strong?” Dipper whispered. 

Ford frowned, leaning down towards Dipper so Danny couldn't hear, “It's… not a terrible idea. He would be bound by it under the right circumstances, but those things are tricky.”

“We would have to make one with as few holes as possible. Even then… Danny doesn’t seem the type to try and twist the deal. Mabel and I have interacted with in him plenty of times before, and he always seemed… kinda nice. Wendy and the older teens like him too. I just…” Dipper trailed off. 

Ford sighed. “If we’re doing this, then we’re doing it right. He can’t do anything from inside the circle, and I’m not letting him out without some assurance. He’s definitely a threat, but you’re onto something to get him to help us against Cipher…” 

Ford leveled a hard, stern look at Dipper. “This is your idea, so you’ll have to take responsibility for it, got it Dipper? We have no idea how strong this particular spirit is, so your deal has to be airtight. Can I leave that to you?”

Dipper gave a resolute nod. “Yes, Grunkle Ford.”

“Then I’m going to get the necessary items out of the car. Work out your deal.” 

Dipper nodded, and watched as Ford shot a glance behind himself, leaving Dipper alone with Danny. 

“Is the old man going to get a non-machete weapon to take off my head with?” Danny joked without an inch of humor. 

“Oh…uh…no. I… I don’t think so,” Dipper hesitantly answered.

“Okay,” Danny seemed just as uncertain as Dipper felt.  

Dipper took a deep breath, solidifying his will for this. He could do this. He had delt with more terrifying things this summer already. 

“Danny,” Dipper started, fully gaining the spirit’s attention, who seemed shocked at his own name being spoken, like he hadn’t expected to be addressed by name at all.