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He’d be lying if he said the hole in the basement wasn’t calling his name, wasn’t giving him desire so strong he felt intoxicated. He wanted it, he wanted to go in, he wanted to become more.
The portal had been shut down for maintenance. It would be brought back up soon - the Fentons knew what Danny was and knew he needed the ectoplasm to maintain his strength.
But now it was just Tucker and the empty portal in front of him.
He wouldn’t admit to anyone what had pulled him down here, what his mind begged him to do, what his body begged him not to do even as he had unlocked the Fenton’s front door when he knew no one was home.
Tucker had been there for Danny’s accident three years ago. He remembered how it happened. He remembered the small click before the screams and light began. Remembered the smell of Danny’s charred flesh even as the burns healed in front of Tucker’s own eyes. The fear, the confusion, the uncertainty.
At the time, the only thing they knew without a doubt was that things had changed, but even then they’d had no idea just how much change was about to drown out their normal lives.
When they finally realized, it was far too late to do anything except accept it and let the current drag them beneath. Danny had stepped up as a hero, fighting the ghosts that came through his parent’s portal. He would insist it was his fault, it was his responsibility to clean up. He had been the sacrifice the portal needed to start, it was his decisions that caused the ghosts to even be able to come here. Sam had settled well into her role as sidekick - what else could she be, after all? She was only human, she had no powers. She’d thrown herself into it without doubt or hesitation. Tucker suspected that she blamed herself for what had happened as well. It was her idea, her camera, her insistence for Danny to go in.
Tucker walked closer to the inactive portal, running a hand along the outside edge, cool metal beneath his palm.
Tucker had taken up the sidekick mantle as well. He was instrumental, he’d been repeatedly told. His hacking had given them advantages they needed across the board - in fighting and in school, triggering alarms to help Danny slip out. Some ghosts had only been defeated because of him - only because of his technological know-how had Danny won.
But it was always Danny. It was Danny who was helped, it was Danny who won. Then again, it was also always Danny who fought. It was Danny who broke bones as he was thrown through buildings, Danny who bore the bruises.
And Tucker was tired. He was tired of being a background character in his own life, as Danny also seemed to be the main character of Tucker’s existence. Tucker came when called, Tucker did what he was asked. But it was never Tucker trading blows, never Tucker getting the glory. Never Tucker who was hurt and stitched up, who was hiding the blood that stained through his clothes in class.
Tucker’s hand fell from the metal as he walked into the dark, gaping mouth of the portal.
And Tucker was sick of it. He was sick of watching his friend bear the brunt of what was thrown at them. He was sick of watching Danny be thrown through glass windows, knowing he’d have to stitch Danny up once this next foe was inevitably caught by the swirling blue light of the Thermos in Danny’s hands. Tired of watching his friend scream as a knife caught his gut or an ecto blast burned his shoulder. That’s what he was telling himself, at least, as he stood there, eyes adjusting to the darkness. He’d already plugged it in.
He’d been there for Danny’s accident. He knew how to replicate it.
And why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t he do everything he could to help Danny more? To pull the punches to his own body, to pull the blame onto himself.
To pull the glory, to pull the attention. To be powerful.
Danny and Sam would stop him if they knew what he was thinking of doing. Even his own body was pleading with him to not go forward, to get out, to go home, to be safe. But his mind and his heart were pulling him to the button along the left wall, the one he could see now that his eyes had become used to the dimness.
He could have power. He could have everything Danny had - even the bad parts.
The memory of burnt flesh settled into his brain. Danny’s agonized screams as thousands of volts pulsed through him. Danny coming out wrong as eerie green swirled dangerously behind him.
But what was his goal here? Was it generosity, a love for his friend and desire to help that caused that button to sing it’s siren song at him? Or was it jealousy, a desire for power and popularity. Who was he more like? Was he Danny or was he Vlad? Selfless or selfish?
Tucker moved forward, though the world around him didn’t feel real. It was his body that was moving, but was he moving it? He stood in front of the button. Such an innocent little thing. Such a small item to wield such power.
His friends’ voices echoed in his head. He could imagine what they would say. To not to do it, don’t risk his life. Danny risked his life every day, though, how much of a hypocrite was he? Nearly dying constantly for the greater good, yet telling Tucker not to do the same thing?
Tucker reached forward, holding his hand against the button. Not pressing it yet. It was smooth beneath his skin, cool to the touch.
But Tucker could help. Tucker could discard his sidekick mantle and take up a hero one as well. He could give Danny a break, even if Danny didn’t want it.
Tucker deep a breath, calming his nerves. This was his last chance. There was no turning back after this. If he died, he was gone forever.
Pushing his doubt away, Tucker pressed the button.
And the portal turned on with him inside.