The air in the Fenton household was thick with the scent of ozone and burnt electronics, a lingering reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded in the basement. As the family finally emerged from the ruined lab, they looked less like a family and more like survivors of a very specific, very scientific explosion.
"Nobody touches anything metal," Maddie cautioned, her voice steady despite the soot smudging her cheek. "And for heaven's sake, keep your heart rates down. We don't need a repeat of the 'levitating refrigerator' incident."
Danny winced, remembering the sight of their kitchen appliance drifting toward the ceiling just minutes prior. He walked with a gingerly step, feeling a strange, humming vibration beneath his skin that shouldn't even be there. Beside him, Jazz was practicing deep breathing exercises, her eyes closed as she navigated the stairs by memory.
"I am a calm pond," Jazz muttered. "A still, placid, non-explosive pond."
"You're a pond with very frizzy hair, Jazz," Danny whispered, earning himself a sharp but controlled nudge from his sister.
Maddie and Jazz ducked into their respective rooms to find something to wear that wasn't singed at the edges. Danny, meanwhile, made a beeline to his room. From his bedside table, he pulled out the drawer and felt a wave of relief wash over him as he found his phone—miraculously, which he didn't bring with him inside the lab.
The screen stayed dark for a second, then suddenly flared to life with such a barrage of notifications that the device actually vibrated itself right out of Danny's hand. He caught it mid-air, his eyes widening as he read the display.
"Oh, boy," he breathed.
52 missed calls. 214 messages. The top of the screen was a graveyard of "WHERE ARE YOU?" and "DANNY, ANSWER YOUR PHONE OR I WILL FIND YOU" alerts. He checked the time: 4:06 AM, January 1st, 2009. The world had officially entered the New Year, and Danny had spent the countdown by having his and his family's DNA being rewritten.
He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the 'Call' button next to Sam's name. He knew what was coming. It was unavoidable. With a heavy sigh, he pressed it.
The phone didn't even have time to ring once.
"DANNY FUCKING FENTON, YOU BETTER BE DYING!" Sam's voice exploded through the speaker with such force that Danny had to physically recoil, holding the phone nearly a foot away from his ear. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Do you have any idea how many times Tucker and I called? We were at the park! We had the countdown! Peter even brought those weird organic snacks you like, and you were a no-show!"
"Sam, Sam, hey—breathe," Danny pleaded, trying to keep his voice soothing while his own adrenaline spiked, causing a small spark to jump from his finger to the phone's casing. "I can explain. Mostly."
"This better be a 'the world was ending' kind of explanation, Danny," she huffed, though her voice had dropped an octave from 'banshee' to 'merely furious'.
Danny sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "There was an accident in the lab," he said, sticking to the half-truth he'd rehearsed in his head. "My parents, Jazz, and I... we were working on a project, and things got... energetic. We've been stuck down there trying to stabilize everything since last night."
The silence on the other end was immediate and heavy. "Is everyone okay?" Sam asked, her anger replaced instantly by that sharp, focused concern that always made Danny's heart do a weird little flip. "Are you hurt? Do I need to come over there?"
"We're fine, Sam. Really," Danny promised, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Just a little rattled. I'm sorry I missed the New Year. Happy New Year, Sam."
"Happy New Year, dummy," she scoffed, though the sweetness was back in her tone. "Just... tell the others you're alive before Tucker starts trying to hack the GPS on your shoes again."
"Will do. Talk soon?"
"Yeah. Talk soon."
Danny was about to hang up, but a sudden impulse took hold. He glanced at the door to ensure his parents weren't lurking. "And Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Love you too. Bye!"
He clicked the phone off before she could respond, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He could almost see her—sitting on her bed, frozen, her face turning a shade of red that would rival a fire engine. He chuckled to himself, feeling a bit more like his old self, even as his bedroom lamp flickered in response to his mood.
After changing his clothes he went downstairs. The rest of the family was there, congregating. Danny walked down to find his father, Jack, standing in the living room. It was a surreal sight. For the first time in a long time, Jack wasn't wearing his signature orange hazmat suit. Instead, he was sporting a pair of oversized khakis and a button-down shirt that looked like it was struggling to contain his massive shoulders.
"Dad? You look... normal," Danny said, tilting his head.
"I know, right?" Jack boomed, flexing his arms and nearly popping a button. "It's breezy! I feel like a civilian! Though I do miss the extra pockets. A man can never have too many pockets for emergency fudge storage."
Maddie emerged, looking sharp in a practical tactical jacket and dark jeans, her hair pulled back into a tight, efficient ponytail. She looked at Jack with a soft expression that Danny usually only saw when she was looking at a particularly interesting specimen.
"Alright, team," Maddie said, snapping into leader mode. "The lab is a loss for now, and until we know the extent of our... new situation, we need to relocate. Danny, you said you had a place in mind?"
Danny nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yeah. It's safe, it's secure, and it's far enough away from the city center that if one of us accidentally shoots a ghost ray through a wall, nobody will notice."
"Where is it?" Jazz asked, adjusting her glasses.
Danny just winked. "Surprise. You'll like it".
"I hate surprises," Jazz and Maddie said in perfect unison.
The family moved to the garage, where the familiar, hulking silhouette of the Fenton Assault Vehicle (GAV) sat waiting. Jack instinctively reached for the keys, but Danny stepped in front of the driver's side door.
"Absolutely not," Danny said firmly.
"But Danny-boy! The GAV has everything! Scanners, harpoons, a built-in waffle iron—"
"And it looks like a tank designed by someone who thinks neon orange is a stealth color," Danny countered. "In the middle of New York, at four in the morning, that thing is a 'please arrest us' sign. We need something low-profile."
"He's right, Jack," Maddie sighed, looking regretfully at the GAV's oversized tires. "But what else do we have? The Fenton Flier is still in pieces."
Danny walked over to the corner of the garage and pulled back a dusty tarp. Beneath it sat a classic 1960s Cadillac, its creamy yellow paint job gleaming even under the dim garage lights.
Jack stared at it, his mouth agape. "My father's car? Danny, that thing hasn't run since the Clinton administration. I haven't had the time to fix the transmission!"
Danny reached into the window and turned the ignition. The engine didn't just start; it purred to life with a smooth, powerful roar that spoke of hours of meticulous tuning.
"You... you fixed it?" Jack whispered, a tear actually forming in the corner of his eye.
"Found some spare time between homework and you know," Danny shrugged, though he couldn't hide his pride. "It's got a few 'Fenton' upgrades under the hood, but it looks stock from the outside."
"My boy!" Jack swept Danny into a bone-crushing hug. "A car guy! I knew there was a reason we kept you!"
"Can't... breathe... Dad..."
After the emotional reunion with the upholstery, the family piled into the Cadillac. It was a spacious car by 1960s standards, but the Fentons were not a 1960s-sized family. Jack, in particular, looked like a bear trying to squeeze into a shoebox. His knees were practically touching his chin, and his head was brushed against the roof liner.
"I feel... compact," Jack grunted as they pulled out of the driveway at 4:37 AM.
"Just think of it as a very long hug, Jack," Maddie said, patting his arm.
As they drove through the quiet streets of Manhattan, the city was in that rare, beautiful state of post-celebration slumber. Confetti still littered the gutters of Times Square, and the glowing '2009' sign hummed in the distance.
"Data check," Danny said, breaking the silence. "Mom, did we get everything from the portal's mainframe before the core blew?"
Maddie reached into her pocket and produced a glowing blue flash drive. "Everything. The schematics, the energy readings, and the preliminary DNA scans. It's all here".
Danny took the drive, his fingers tingling as they touched the plastic. "Good. We're going to need this. If we're going to understand what happened to us, we need a clean environment and better tech."
The drive continued in a mix of comfortable silence and the occasional comedic outburst. Every time they hit a pothole, Jack's head would thud against the roof, causing him to mutter something about "gravity being a fickle mistress," which in turn caused his hands to glow a faint, subconscious green.
"Dad, calm thoughts!" Jazz yelled from the back seat as the steering wheel began to smoke.
"I am calm! I am the calmest man in New York!" Jack roared, his excitement bubbling over. "I'm just so proud of my car! And my family! And my new ability to possibly bench-press a skyscraper!"
"Let's start with bench-pressing a sandwich first," Danny suggested, watching the city lights blur past.
They turned a corner, heading toward a part of the city that was noticeably more upscale. The skyscrapers here were taller, sleeker, and bore names that Danny knew would change their lives forever.
"Almost there," Danny said, his gaze fixed on a distant, glowing towering spire. "Welcome to the New Year, guys. It's going to be a big one."