Danny Phantom Doctor's Disorders Novels & Stories

Queen, and there was no bigger confusion than that. “What the hell is all this bullshit? How can both of us be the same person? Are you trying to say that we are the same? How does that even make sense?” Jimmy two yelled angrily at the doctor. “Young Sir,” as the Doctor fondly called Jimmy, “The results are accurate, the explanation for that is what I don’t have.” He explained. “I won't say it again, I know this is frustrating for all of us but please control your anger.” Mr. James scolded.

Surreal. There was a clenching sensation in my chest. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck. This couldn’t be happening. “Is he going to—” Doctor Richards shook his head sadly. “We just don’t know. It’s not looking good, but we can never say anything for sure in these situations.” The curtains rustled behind me and I turned to find Danny standing in the doorway. He didn’t look much better than I did, but there was a cold look in his eyes. A detachment I didn’t like. Like me, he was still wearing a suit.

Just Chris Lee, twenty-five years old, standing in the bathroom of a Mafia Lord's estate trying to locate the part of himself that was still functional. It was there. Smaller than usual. Further back than I was used to finding it. But there. You're still here, I told it. It didn't respond but it didn't disappear either, which I decided to count as a win. The doctor was young and terrified. Not of me — of the house, of the situation, of the weight of whose instructions he was operating under. He moved through the examination with the careful efficiency of a man who understood that doing his job well was the only protection he had.

Chapter 13 Isis, I hugged my billow tighter to my chest and began to breathe harshly. Fucking abdomen pain. The doctor told me before that it is only inside of my head, but fuck him. I can feel the pain right now and it is killing me as well. I bit my lower lip harshly, drawing blood, but I held my pain whimpers inside in order not to wake Sandy. The girl has been worried about me all day, as well as Lola.

“How is she Doc?" Dante asked with a worried expression, rubbing his sweating palms together in nervousness. He stood before the doctor who just checked on Grace and he couldn't help the anxiety gnawing at him that something terrible might have happened to Grace. “I'm afraid she dislocated her arm and she has a few internal injuries, but she'll be fine after a few days." The doctor said. Dante clenched his fist at the doctor's words. Could doctors ever go straight to the point? Why do they always have to say weird stuffs like this?

He knew very well what situation the Young Master was in. “But Young Master…,” the Doctor hesitantly said. “What’s the problem?” Van asked. “Young Master has an iron deficiency. He’s anemic and according to the result of the examination last year, it is getting worse every day. If the Young Master gives his blood he might actually…,”

Madeline replied. Dolph turned away from the window, his face contorted with anger. "That bloody doctor! He lied to me! I knew something was wrong with her!" He exclaimed and Lucas looked at him. "What?" He asked. "The doctor said she was just fatigued, I told him it looked worse than that but he insisted that it was still fatigue. What could I say? I couldn't argue with a bloody doctor, but everything about him seemed off when he was leaving. His hands were shaking, his head was bowed the whole fucking time. Everything was off!" Dolph replied vehemently. "If the bastard had told me about it, certainly I wouldn't have let her run away."

Dante stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed, his face a mask of unreadable stone. "She's awake," the doctor noted quietly. He turned to me. "Your vitals are stable, but your blood work came back with a very specific result." “What happened?” I asked. “You fainted,” Dante said. His voice was controlled, too controlled. “You scared everyone.” “Blood work?” I asked. The doctor hesitated, I looked at Dante but he didn’t move. “Yes,” the doctor said carefully. “We ran a full panel.” Silence pressed down on the room.

Doctor Dante voiced. "Yes, Doctor. The nurse handed me the report. What does it say?" Dante already grabbed the folder from me and read it. "Wayne, how do you feel?" asked Dante. "And what are you eating?" "I gave him a pancake, doctor. He loves it," I replied. "He’s still very fragile, Adira," Doctor Dante said, his eyes scanning the charts. "There’s a lot to improve here. The deficiencies are significant, and his body is struggling to catch up after so much neglect."

He was rushed to the hospital and that was when we found out about the sickness and how he had been hiding it from us and getting series of treatments by the royal family doctor secretly. I was so annoyed that he couldn't tell us the situation he was into, doctor Dante had told me that the reason he was unable to reveal his sickness was because he didn't want us to get worried and he had made him swear not to tell us about it. Dad was able to speak for a few months but he was unable to work because he already had been paralyzed on his legs.