#Danny and Jazz could just seem disgusted by what they do

[r3ynah]

THE FAMILY OF BEAUTIES

The girls the boys they all like Carmen.

(In this scenario Carmen is the fentons).

I just want to headcanon, that the Fenton's have a ethereal type of beauty, not sexy or hot. Ethereal, like if you didn't know that they're a family of Mad scientist, a obsessive therapist and a dead boy. they could've passed as deity's.

And the amity park's citizens can and will totally agree, they might've disagree and fight for a lot of things but the only thing they can agree on was the Fenton's was down to earth beautiful.

Like Jack Fenton for example, He has built that can seemingly bench you without any hesitation, but a himbo at heart, the greys of his hair compliments way it mixes with the black hair of his, if Jack isn't in his ghost hunting suit, he is pretty decent when it comes to his fashion sense, When Jazz first brought along her friends, the first thing they asked was if Jack was single, which caused Jazz to smack their heads individually with a newspaper.

And don't get me started with Madeline Fenton, because I cannot stop when it comes to her, My girl with her short straight Reddish-brown hair, looks like a masculine but also feminine beauty, Can and will bench you, if you have any ill intent towards her family, she came from a long line of riches if I say so myself. Tall as fuck, about 6'7 while Jack is 7'0. very elegant when it comes to fighting, that it looks like she's just dancing, Was titled as a Milf by Danny's classmate which made the boy groan in annoyance, Sam and Tucker calls out to Maddie and says "Mother is Mothering", just to get something out of Danny who looks at them with disgust knowing full well what they were trying to do. While Maddie is just happy for the kids to see her as a mother figure.

Now Jazz, My love, my girl. Her long Red hair that came down to her hips, and her blue eyes, made all the girls and boys in her college swoon, with her 6'4 figure she strutted down the halls with confidence, beauty and brains everyone would oh so called it, and her knowledge in martial arts didn't lessen her attractiveness, The humans and ghosts can agree with that delightfully.

And now her dearest sibling Danny, Danny is a nonbinary fuck that can gender envy anyone he meets, that's why he got bullied in the first place, he was too fucking beautiful and handsome at the same time, all the boys and girls of his school have atleast had a crush on him, He was the only cute boy there, what could they do? He stared at them with his icey colored eyes that made their legs tremble from the pressure, and that black hair that always seemed messy but in a good way. It didn't help when he got that lichtenberg scar, that ran up his neck and the side of his face. you should've seen him in P.E cause my guy got everyone staring at him.

And the Fenton family has fashion sense, if they really put their mind and soul into it, everytime they dressed up for a family reunion or just an outing it was a very sweet treat for everyone's eyes. like how it is right now.

The Amity parkers waved goodbye at the Fenton's as they went on and attended a gala they were invited to, it was supposedly because of the sudden rise and popularity of their works and how's it been helping the environment.

One citizen sighed as he looked at the car that family was driving as it slowly became smaller and smaller.

"You think they can handle Gotham, heard nasty thing bout that place." She questioned

"Girl, Gotham should be the one readying to handle them, that family may be beautiful, but their crazy." Her friend's answered

"well that does give them a more attractive look isn't it?"

"I hate how you're right."

__

The Gala the Fenton's went to certainly had an awkward atmosphere when they went inside, all the guest kept staring at them that it was starting to get creepy, did they overdress or underdressed, come on just walk towards start to talk or criticize them, because it's starting to get embarrassing for the family.

Gotham wasn't fucking prepared to meet the Fentons like as in, They had been awestrucked when the family walked in. A very tall man seemingly in his 40's with his hair gelled back, and a suit that fitted him too perfectly, gosh dang, even the homophobic guests couldn't help but stare, And then there was his Wife her straight her was curled and brushed out leaving a wavy effect that compliments her face shape, and that dress she was wearing was utterly gorgeous, fancy but also simple and mature, the heels certainly helped her height more and made her look more intimidating, The ladies blushed when she looks at them and smiles.

And don't get them started with the couples children, who looked adorable and elegant at the same time, The older sister had a aura that says: 'Im in your presence bow down' (And they would've if it was in a more private area due to the paparazzi's out the window). She wore a spaghetti strapped dress that had a slit on either side and was , making it more comfortable to move in for the girl, partnered by a white shawl made of silk, she had heels that also complimented he already tall stature, her hair was tied in a neat bun, with a few strands free to not make her face feel bare. And lastly the youngest everyone assumed, wearing a suit, double-breasted suit that was elegant and sophisticated it matched the way his hair is messed up for him to still look young, he was also wearing a black shawl that had specks of white making it look like stars. The family had a colour scheme of green, that made all gothamites present swoon, Including a certain family of bats.

(I might make a fanart of this later.)

[radiance1]

Alfred Pennyworth has in fact, perhaps, in the slightest of chances.

Picked up his Master's habit of collecting children as if they were on sale.

He was spending his time on one of those rare vacations he decided to take, it was nice, to relax with only the vague overhanging worry of something going wrong back at the manor that he's gotten very good at ignoring.

Only to come across a child bleeding out in an alley, heavily injured.

He would not be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help them however he could.

Such is how he acquired a child he later found to be a meta who whished to learn the ways of a butler.

---

Danny had escaped from a GIW compound, after having been handed over by his family a while after his reveal. He felt, completely and utterly betrayed, when it happened. His parents, while hurt, he was at least capable of actually seeing them do it, but never would he have thought Jazz would do so as well.

They did it so happily, that he wondered if letting him go really was the greatest thing to happen to this family.

He chained, muzzled, all the ways to bind him they pulled all the stops too, knowing how dangerous he was. He wouldn't have even done anything then, too stunned by his families apart willingness at handing him over to the government.

He hated them.

He hated them so much.

The GIW facility was a terrible, cold, unfeeling place. One where they drilled thoughts into his head again and again until he found himself unconsciously repeating them when his head felt empty, one where his body gained a new mark day by day and pushed through tests, he had no clue of even hoping to comprehend what they would gain out of it.

It was a cold, unfeeling place. Placed in a cell of white and nothing else, with low walls and chains binding his body in place until the time came for another experiment.

It was a room he grew used to. One he even held some kind of strange, twisted affection for.

It was a room that held a tiny piece of safety, of rest. It was a room that taught him to hate.

A deep, powerful, disgusting, twisting hatred that crawled from the depths of his cells, corrupting his blood and carving itself deep into his bones. Forcing it's out of his pores until it practically oozed from his flesh.

It drowned his mind, tainting each and every thought, every memory, every dream, every waking moment until he could feel nothing but hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

When he was taken out of that he could feel nothing, with the drugs swimming their way through his blood that snapped the thin string keeping him between a person and an emotionless puppet.

He thinks that's what the GIW thinks he is.

And when he was placed back in that room, he could only hate.

It was a cycle. Stuck between feeling either nothing or hatred.

He hated feeling nothing, it made him feel like he wasn't real. Like it snapped the thread that held him between what a real person was and a dream.

So, he allowed himself to drown deep into his hatred. Until the white walls of his far to small room seemed to fade, until whatever sound he could have heard became nothing but dull noise.

Until the passage of time seemed to become just a blink.

He didn't know what day it was, when he saw it. Saw them. He didn't know the time, the date, the day, the hours. He knew nothing.

But he could recognize his family. Recognize one of the objects of his intense hatred that he forced his thoughts too. The people who willingly gave him up just like that and one of the causes for his current life.

He didn't know why they showed him them, he felt it some sick, utterly cruel joke. A joke he didn't know the punchline for, a joke the universe sent his way to make his life all the more miserable.

There were multiple of them. Multiple clones of his family. Som within test tubes, some being pulled out from the tubes, some walking around in lab coats. A waste of talent, they called it in his dad's case, a waste of intelligence in his mother's, and a waste of intellect in his sister's case.

His original family was already dead, he was told. Replaced by clones, clones that took over the legal decision to change his guardianship. Clones walking around twisting and desecrating his family.

'At least it was painless.' One of the clones said, talking with his mother's face. 'Far more than they deserved for having keeping a thing like him' spoken by his father's imposter.

The drugs pumping through his system to keep him calm, to keep him feeling nothing was suddenly pierced through by an intense feeling of horror, hate and self-loathing.

He should've known it wasn't his family. He should've done more! More to protect them! To keep them safe! The could've still been alive if he just knew.

In that moment, watching imposters speaking, walking, talking, breathing, with his families faces. He exploded. Exploded with a power fueled by nothing but his intense hatred for every. Single. Living being in this goddamn facility.

He killed whoever stood in his way. Managing to get his hands on relatively newly designed weapon, an ectoplasmic scythe (that also apparently could revert into an everyday item). Which he used to rip and tear throughout the entirety of the facility. He got injured, of course, he couldn't dodge everything, but he didn't care.

A body stuck between life and death, incapable of fully going one way or the other no matter what happened. Gifted supernatural powers fueled by wrath and twisting hatred and a weapon made by man yet in the range of the supernatural.

They didn't stand a change. He killed them all. No matter who it was, man, woman, clone. He didn't, couldn't care. He could only kill, only maim, only hurt.

And that's what he did.

It was then, when the facility was blanketed with silence tainted by despair, death and hysteria. When previously white walls were covered by blood, and the halls turned into rivers of blood and corpses. That he broke down, the overwhelming hatred he felt replaced by relief then sadness then self-loathing.

His family didn't give him up! But they were killed. Kill because of him. He couldn't stand being in this place, anymore. His body felt as if it were moving on unseen strings as it walked through the halls, the scythe shrinking back what it was when out of combat, his mind too occupied by thoughts and feelings.

It walked through a portal, one to the ghost zone, and then promptly into another portal and spat him out into an alleyway. Which he then promptly collapsed and curled into a ball, curing the shrunken scythe in his palm and he was out like a light.

A few days after he woke up, he found himself growing attached to the human that found him in that alleyway. An old man, maybe, but a nice one. He didn't want to meet anyone, besides that man, so he turned invisible when anyone else come into contact with him.

Alfred Pennyworth.

It was a name he clung onto mentally and a man he clung onto physically as well. He wanted to be like that man, someone so nice and caring, someone who didn't mind that he turned invisible at the sing of another person, who let him cling onto him both invisible and not whenever he wanted to.

He did panic when he heard Alred saying his vacation was over, and such that he had to leave. He didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't know what he would do if he was left alone again.

Until Afred said we were going home.

We. As in, him plus another. Alfred plus Danny.

Home.

Heat blossomed in his chest, seeming to replace the constant, low hum of hate sitting beneath him skin.

Home.

[mysterious-prophetess]

My Problem with Mr. Lancer

It's not just that he seemingly allows bullying because the school is enslaved to its football team's star status, but that doesn't help.

It's also not just a problem Lancer has—but he's the most visible teacher/faculty, so I'm using him to focus on in this post.

The problem is Mr. Lancer should have turned in the Fentons, and didn't. In fact, all of Danny's teachers, even prior to the portal accident, should have turned them in.

I know I've defended them in the past—I still think they're not the worst and that they do care and try—but I will admit that they should have had CPS called on them multiple times even before their lack of care led to the events that ended up half-killing their son.

The fact that Jazz ended up parentified is definitely something I am aware of as not good.

They're not saints; it's just I was sick of people saying in one breath, "they're the absolute WORST" while in another claiming pre-A Glitch in Time Vlad wasn't that bad. I digress.

So, here's why I am bringing this up: Mandated Reporters.

My biggest problem with Mr. Lancer stems from this.

I, for a short time, considered going back to college to get a teaching certification to teach in the public school system (my state actually has a public school teacher shortage that is worsening by the year).

One of the first things I learned about was that teachers are all mandated reporters. With everything that has happened in the Fenton household, it would have been somewhat obvious things weren't right, but the teachers of Amity Park just didn't do their jobs.

AFTER the accident? Not one of the teachers seemed to notice Danny's injuries or worsening attendance and grades and reported it, and they would have been obligated to do so.

Mr. Lancer, in particular, since he was always shown as the more proactive faculty member on Danny's case (but Miss Testlaff occasionally was, too), didn't seem to bother following his obligations as a mandatory reporter for anyone (and allowing Dash to run rampant is another problem).

I will only admit this right here: after the ghost attacks became a common thing, it could be argued the teachers weren't sure what a ghost fight injury was vs. another source.

However, people didn't seem to be often negatively impacted (because kids' show). Therefore, that excuse is on thin ice.

Danny, throughout the show, from Mr. Lancer's perspective (or ANY of the staff of Casper High's own perspectives), showed a lot of signs that things were not okay at home, but instead of pursuing anything, he just did next-to-nothing except for disciplinary actions which were counterproductive.

TBH, the Situation at Casper High is a boiling kettle that would end up exploding in a bad way were it in the real world.

I'd say something about the actual Principal, but she is barely in the show. I really remember next to nothing about her beyond the fact I know her name: Principal Ishiyama.

Mr. Lancer, the Vice Principal, has a more active role than the principal.

Now, that's not actually unheard of, but it is something of a trope in and of itself. Still, as a person of authority, his failing at his job in so many ways is something I take issue with on a professional level as an educator and as one who was bullied as a student.

His lack of care beyond discipline, detention, and the school's 'precious' football team disgusts me, to be honest.

So, Tl:dr—My biggest problem with Mr. Lancer is that he didn't have CPS on speed dial in regards to Danny and Jazz's living situation.

My second biggest problem is his allowance of Dash(and the football team) to physically assault and bully others with no repercussions because of FOOTBALL.

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 18

[see all chapters]

read on: [ao3] [ffn]

Summary: After being accidentally revealed to the public and taken away by the government, Danny deals with the aftermath of his time with the GiW.

---

There was a video in the morning. A hidden paparazzi camera, he found out. The video was sold to TMZ and subsequently reuploaded to every social media site within the hour.

“Danny Fenton can walk?!” was the caption of the one Danny was currently watching on TikTok. It was a video of him approaching the stairs, and—ugh—struggling to climb them. He could see Tucker’s (fake) smile and Sam’s concerned oversight. His legs wobbled as they ascended each step, his gate abnormal.

And as internet culture dictated, the comments were sure to point everything out.

ok but why do his legs look like that 💀💀💀

>don’t be gross, he’s clearly got some medical issues

My cousin is paraplegic and Danny walks similar to him.

Y’all are freaking out like there aren’t videos of him already in physical therapy 🤦

Wtf happened to him?

I know this isn’t supposed to be funny but it kind of is

>stfu he’s a minor

>>So? He’s a celebrity, he can take it

These comments are horrible. This kid clearly got abused during his imprisonment and has suffered lasting damage, and there are people here who think it’s funny because he walks differently now? That’s disgusting, and as a disabled person myself, it’s horrible to see so many comments and likes making fun of him. Surprise, disabilities affecting motor function make people look different when they perform said motor functions. Grow up.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. This was exactly what he was afraid of. It was the entire reason why he had been avoiding walking in public.

He hadn’t even seen anyone around them. Had someone followed the van all the way to Tucker's house? Did this mean that Tucker and his family were going to get stalked too? 

Ugh, ugh! This was horrible. And now he had to go to school where everyone would have seen that video too?

Fuck. 

He peeked out his window, and beyond the recently installed tall fence lining the property, Danny could see a circle of paparazzi and media vans parked along the sidewalk.

This was insanity. It wasn’t like this was the first video of him walking in general; there were videos and pictures of him at PT. Sure, he was being supported by the other physical therapists and equipment, but he was still walking. It just happened that this was the first video taken of him in public, which Danny guessed was enough for the algorithms to grab hold of.

His family was so lucky the neighbors seemed understanding of the media circus that was now their life. Although, Jazz had mentioned bringing cookies over to a few of them before…

“It’ll die down,” Danny reminded himself. “Once they get bored, they’ll move on.”

But even that sounded like a lie the more he said it. Because unless another half-ghost stepped into the public eye, it didn’t seem like there would be anyone to take the spotlight off of him anytime soon. 

He checked Twitter and…yep, he was the top trending topic on there too.

Fucking hell, did no one have anything better to do?

His inbox was flooded, and his notifications were worse. Danny was glad he had turned off all social media alerts on his phone ages ago. His phone would have probably caught on fire with the rate he was being tagged in tweets.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, breathing just like his therapist had taught him. In, two, three…out, two three.

Okay, so what if everyone knew what he looked like when he walked now? It wasn’t like he could keep this hidden forever. If anything, his physical therapists were probably just relieved he’d finally ripped the band-aid off because now he had no excuse to continue avoiding walking in public.

And was that really a bad thing? More practice meant strengthening his muscles, which meant that he would be closer and closer to ditching the walker for crutches.

He absentmindedly scrolled through his notifications, until one blue-checkmarked name caught his eye:

Izaak Adams @izaakadamsCongrats to @dannyphantom for kicking ass in PT! It’s amazing to see the progress you’ve made since I saw you last. Soon, you’ll be outpacing me! Keep working hard 💪

Danny frowned at the screen. Had that guy met him? As far as Danny remembered, he hadn’t met any celebrities since his release. Was this guy lying for clout or something?

Danny clicked on his profile and read his bio. “Paralympic Gold Medalist and Video Game Enthusiast” 

Paralympic gold medalist? Why did that ring a bell?

Danny racked his memories for anything, but he drew a blank. Did he know this guy? Or maybe he was reading too much into this tweet?

A knuckle rapped on his door. “Danny?” came Jazz’s muffled voice. “You awake?”

Danny looked up. “Hey, Jazz? Do I know a guy named Izaak Adams?”

Jazz opened the door to reveal her baggy sweats and messy bun. “Huh?”

“Izaak Adams, a paralympic athlete?” Danny held up his phone. “He tweeted at me almost like we’ve met?”

Jazz’s confused frown was replaced by a look of surprise. “Yeah, I remember, you have met him!”

“Really? When?”

“At the hospital one time, he came to visit? When you were first learning to use your wheelchair.”

Fragments of that memory hit him, and on instinct, Danny cringed. Oh yeah, how could he have forgotten what an underweight, stuttering, dazed mess he’d been? Ugh, how embarrassing.

Jazz stifled a giggle. “Oh come on, it was cute! He was so supportive and patient.”

“Yeah, but—”

Jazz shot him a doting glare. “Danny, anyone looking at you could see that you were in intense recovery. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting the Phantom when he went to meet you. Cut yourself a bit of slack.”

Danny looked back down at his phone. “Yeah. You’re right.”

He contemplated what to do for a few seconds before an impulsive, teenage fuck it crossed his brain. He shrugged, opened the tweet, and hit reply.

Danny Phantom @dannyphantom Replying to @izaakadamsThank you for the support! Better watch out, I’m coming for your title as the gold medalist in Hospital Hallway Racing.

There. That was equal parts easygoing and funny enough to show the press and public alike that no, he wasn’t self-conscious about the way he looked, fuck off.

Jazz glanced down at her phone and snorted.

“Good response?” Danny guessed.

“Perfect. Now get ready for school!”

---

As expected, the police were escorting the paparazzi off the property when he arrived at Casper High that morning.

It wasn’t like Danny was able to use his walker at school anyway.

Still, the murmurs from classmates followed him into the building, and the sideways glances to outright stares trailed behind him in the halls. 

Fantastic. Just when he thought his classmates might be getting used to him, the world had to backtrack. Part of him wanted to turn around and snark, “Fascinating news, guys, the elusive creature known as the halfa learned to walk! What an amazing step in evolution this was!” But he bit his tongue. His wit wasn’t worth whatever backlash the internet would make of it.

Danny rounded the corner and spotted Sam and Tucker hanging around their lockers. Their fight and the weight of Sam’s unresponded text were still fresh in his mind, but he took a deep breath and pressed forward.

“Hey, guys,” Danny said awkwardly.

They turned around, apprehension etched on their faces.

“Hey, Danny. What’s up?” Tucker asked.

If Sam looked desperate to say something, Danny wasn’t going to entertain her. “Nothing. My morning’s been uneventful as usual.”

Tucker fidgeted with his cap, looking sheepish. “I honestly didn’t see anyone around yesterday. They must have been hiding behind the bushes or something.”

“It’s fine, Tuck,” Danny said. “It’s not like this wasn’t going to happen soon anyway. And besides, the—the embarrassing part is done now.”

“It’s not embarrassing, Danny,” Sam rebuked. “It’s admirable if anything. The comments I’ve seen have been very supportive.”

“Sure, some of them.”

“Most of them.”

“Sam, I appreciate the pep talk, but it’s fine. Really.” When Sam’s adamant expression refused to let up, Danny reiterated, “It’s fine. There are other—other videos of me walking online. This is just the one every–everyone saw. I don’t care.”

“Good.” Tucker closed his locker door. “In an incredibly important change of topic, we never saw the new Dead Teacher movie!” 

“You guys didn’t watch it?” Danny asked.

Tucker gave Danny an incredulous look. “Without you?”

“I don’t know, I figured me being out of commission was enough of an excuse.”

“Did you not read my texts? I said we weren’t gonna watch it without you. Really, Danny, do you think so low of me?”

Danny tapped into his bullshit meter, trying to gauge if Tucker was lying—it wouldn’t be the first time—but for once, nothing pinged his radar.

“We should just marathon the whole series now that they’re all on Netflix,” Sam said. “You guys can come over next weekend and we can play them in my home theater.”

“You, Sam, have a truly wonderful brain,” Tucker said.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it when you can say that while eating a salad.”

“Don’t push it, woman.”

“That’s what I thought.” Sam rolled her eyes and turned to Danny. “You up for it?”

Danny hesitated, his hold on his wheelchair tightening. “I thought I wasn’t allowed at your house?”

“Yeah, but you’re a—oh…right. I forgot.” Sam slapped her hand to her forehead and groaned. “Damn, I forgot you don’t have your powers still. Shit, sorry, guys.”

“I don’t have a fancy home system or anything, but you guys can come over to my place,” Tucker offered.

“Thanks, Tuck,” Sam said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Principal Ishiyama stare at him for a moment too long before scurrying down the hall.

Weird.

He tried to shake the uncomfortable squirming in his gut. “Yeah, Tuck, sounds good.”

“And this time…” Tucker leaned down cheekily. “Maybe you can try to not kill yourself getting to my bedroom.”

Sam and Danny both reacted immediately, shouting a chorus of “Tucker!” and “Dude!” They briefly made eye contact before Tucker’s evil cackling snapped Danny back to focus.

“That’s a cheap shot! No fair!” Danny moaned. “You can’t—this—this is bullying.”

If anything, Tucker grinned wider. “Fine, then next time I won’t save your sorry ass from a life of embarrassment the next time you try to launch yourself to the top step because you’re too lazy to climb up the stairs.”

“You have a lot of stairs!”

“My house has a perfectly reasonable amount of stairs.”

“No, I call foul,” Danny protested. “You’re literally picking on the disabled kid. Unreal.”

Tucker patted Danny’s shoulder. “Sure, okay, ghost boy.”

“That was a very dangerous move, though, Danny,” Sam said. “You could have fallen.”

“Eh, cut him some slack. Walkers are really annoying.”

“Don’t encourage this, Tucker!”

“I got your back, Danny.”

But Danny wasn’t paying attention to them anymore. Something else had caught his attention. A deep laugh, one so familiar it had sent a shockwave of ice shooting through his veins. If it weren’t for the chip, he was sure he’d be covered in ecto-frost.

He stared across the hallway, his breath frozen in his throat. Time slowed around him, and the conversational voices of Sam and Tucker melted away into the background.

No...it couldn’t be…

He must have been hallucinating. His mind was playing tricks on him. There was just no way that he was actually here in the hallway of Casper High.

No way it was true.

But it was.

There, in full view of the entire student body, was Operative O himself. His white suit gleamed against the dull cream and red of the high school. He stood against a row of lockers with his chest out, sunglasses covering his eyes, and a smirk splayed on his lips as he conversed with Principal Ishiyama.

No.

No. 

Danny needed to run away. Flee. Get out of sight. 

But he couldn’t. It was as if his wheelchair was cemented to the ground. He was trapped, staring at the man who had made it his life’s work to ruin Danny’s.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

Operative O’s head turned until it locked onto Danny. His smirk widened and his sunglasses positively glistened. He brought a hand up above his shoulders and waggled his fingers at Danny.

Fear was replaced by hot anger. That bastard was waving as if he and Danny were longtime friends. 

“Hey, Danny?” Tucker poked his shoulder. “Isn’t that…?”

The unsaid question hung in the air like a dark cloud.

Sam’s expression hardened. “What are they doing here?”

But Danny was seething. His stomach churned in fury, and the corners of his vision tinged green. Adrenaline spiked in his veins, and he could feel his core screaming against its restraints.

Before he could so much as think, Danny was whizzing down the hall. When he got close enough, he abandoned his wheelchair altogether, pushing himself up and gripping onto the lockers for support for the final few steps. Ishiyama gave him a warning look, along with a subtle shake of her head, but Danny wasn’t listening to her.

If it weren’t for this fucking chip, he probably would have transformed into Phantom right in the middle of the damn hall.

“What the hell are you doing?” Danny hissed. Despite his fury, his palms were clammy against the metal lockers.

“Why if it isn’t Danny Phantom. What a coincidence it is to see you here.”

Operative O’s slimy voice pierced him at once, and Danny nearly crumpled to the ground. Memories came rushing back, transporting him far away to a dark, musty place where the air smelled putrid and his skin was wet and sticky. Where he never knew what time it was, where his stomach felt sick with hunger, where he begged for anyone to find him, rescue him.

“I’m doing a routine inspection. Your school installed ecto-shields, and it’s my job to make sure they’re working properly. Nothing that concerns you,” Operative O purred, leaning in to pull what appeared like a dog tag on a silver chain from his pocket. “And might I congratulate you on how wonderful it is to see you walking again. If we were back at the research center, I would even give you a little treat.”

Danny’s blood ran cold, and he stopped breathing.

Operative O chuckled, standing back up and slipping the chain out of sight. “Now if you don’t mind, Ishiyama, I’d like to see those shields you mentioned…”

Danny’s ears rang, that laugh echoing over and over like a broken vinyl. He looked up, but Mr. Lancer had inserted himself in front of Danny, blocking O from view. The world tilted, and Danny gave up. He rested his head on the locker just in time for Sam and Tucker to catch up with him, their voices muddying into the background. The world was spinning, the entire hallway was probably watching, and Danny was just trying not to throw up. 

A heavy hand fell on his back, and Danny barely caught the low murmur in his ear. “...my office?”

Danny nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to, but just knowing he had about five seconds to get out of the hallway before he was going to faint on the floor.

Thankfully, the hands were strong, and they held him upright as they guided him forward. Sam grabbed his arm, steadying him as well. Mr. Lancer said something, and Danny recognized Sam’s protesting tone in her response, but Lancer’s voice was sharper.

Sam huffed and squeezed his arm, and then his friends were gone just in time for what sounded like helicopters to womp in his ears and the spinning to reach a climax. He was pushed through the door and immediately felt his hand hit something behind him.

Danny collapsed onto his wheelchair and gasped, taking his first breath of air in too long. But his throat tightened again and he panicked, trying to breathe through the coffee straw that was his lungs.

A hand once again landed on his back, and a voice spoke soothingly into his ear.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Mr. Lancer said.

Danny shook his head and clawed at his shirt. Was his shirt choking him? Had the Operatives drugged him again? Is that why the world was spinning, why his arms were shaking so violently?

“It’s okay. Breathe, you’re okay.”

Danny clutched at his core, demanding whatever flickering bit of invisibility he could muster at whatever limbs were the closest. He couldn’t cloak his entire body in it, but the small whispers of his core powers were just enough to not send him into a complete meltdown.

“Why?” Danny finally gasped out. “Why?”

Mr. Lancer didn’t answer. Danny didn’t know if this was because he didn’t actually know the answer or if he just felt like Danny shouldn’t hear it.

Danny’s throat squeezed tighter. He glanced down at his bag and could feel the weight of the emergency pills. He was desperate for one. But he couldn’t, not in Lancer’s office.

Mr. Lancer pulled his chair beside Danny and sat down. He kept his voice low, whispering “it’s alright, it’s okay” as he waited for Danny to get himself under control.

But as soon as the dizziness ceased and the world righted again, Danny’s ragged breaths melted into sobs.

He bent forward, hiding his face in his hands. He could taste the ghost of the red bag on his tongue, and he could feel the plastic tube being shoved down his throat, cutting off his oxygen supply as it reached for his stomach. He felt the pain in his back, his chest, the phantom nerves in his legs firing off any way they could.

He felt Operative O thread his fingers down his torso, exploring the blank canvas prime to decorate with green.

“I didn’t want it,” Danny choked out. “I…”

His stomach turned, and he clamped his hands over his mouth, gagging. 

Mr. Lancer was quick to react, shoving a waste bin under Danny’s chin just in time for Danny to empty the contents of his breakfast into it.

Mr. Lancer’s hand was on his back, rubbing circles as Danny’s head lurched forward once again. He coughed, spitting bile and stomach acid into the bin. The warmth in his body had never felt so uncomfortable before, so dizzying.

Danny shook his head, mumbling, “I didn’t want it.”

“I know,” Mr. Lancer responded quietly. 

“I didn’t—I just—I just wanted the granola bars. It wasn’t my—” Danny choked on his voice. He shook his head, trying to force out the memories that flickered past the back of his eyes.

He just needed to reach his hand out and grab the granola bar. That’s all he needed to do. So why couldn’t he do it? Why did his mistake cost him the last shred of the dignity he was still clutching onto?

A fresh wave of tears fell from Danny’s eyes. “I—I’m not…” I’m not a dog, he wanted to scream, but he couldn’t.

Because he would be lying if he said he truly believed it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said instead. Because he was sorry, truly, for continuing to be a burden on Mr. Lancer, a teacher Danny had spent the past two years disappointing over and over, a teacher who’d been forced to babysit him in detention dozens of times, a teacher who had now twice had to deal with him being an emotional fuckup.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” 

But that was a big fat fucking lie if Danny had ever heard one. And he should know, he was the master of lying.

---

His parents didn’t try to make him talk when they picked him up from school that day.

Danny was too busy staring out the window unseeing to talk anyway.

He didn’t remember getting inside. Couldn’t remember transferring out of the car or going into his house.

Maybe he should’ve been thankful that the wheelchair was autonomous now. Or whatever his doctor would tell him.

He blinked, and he was on the couch with a throw blanket over his body. Jazz was next to him, staring at the television as some reality show played. Danny’s gaze followed hers, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes noticed his movement. But he didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, he much preferred to watch…

…

What was he doing?

There was this stillness over his body, in his mind. It was…quiet. Light. 

It was nice.

He recognized this feeling. This lightness in his limbs, the calm in his body. The lack of pain, lack of burning from his nerves and muscles.

It was just. Relaxation. Pure tranquility.

He remembered then, the emergency pill he managed to sneak while Lancer and his parents slipped into another room to talk. And then a different pill his parents handed him moments later.

One that he’d taken while he was shaking, his body in shock, desperate for an ounce of relief.

When the world stopped, it was euphoric. The fog returned, blanketing his mind and shielding him from the realities just outside the door. He relaxed, accepting the fog like a long-lost brother. It stayed with him for hours, and he cherished every second of their time together, but now it was bidding adieu.

But this time, the loss didn’t seem so bad. There was no pain, no stress. It was only the calm with no storm to follow.

He closed his eyes and sank into the couch. He was tired, and the cushions and blankets felt so nice. He wasn’t in the cell—not even close—he was home with his sister. Safe, protected.

“Thanks, Jazz,” he murmured.

She didn’t respond, but he knew she heard him.

“What show’s on?”

“Survivor,” she said. “A rerun. Not sure which season.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The television droned on, and Danny heard the contestants bickering about…something or other.

Heh. That sucked for them.

“M’sorry.” Danny yawned. “Sorry for…you know…I hope I didn’t ruin your day. You babysitting me.”

“It’s fine, Danny, It’s not your fault. They shouldn’t have been there.”

“I don’t know…it sounds like they could be there.”

He heard Jazz shift beside him, and his eyes peeked open to see her attention fully diverted from the show.

“Danny—”

“Where’s Mom and Dad?”

“They’re with the lawyer.”

“Okay.” Danny’s eyelids felt heavy, and wisps of his core tickled his chest. “I need the chip out.”

She was quiet again.

“You understand why,” Danny said.

“I do.”

“I need Mom and Dad to—to remove it. If they don’t…”

“I wish I could help,” she said quietly.

“Then convince them. They won’t listen to me, I’m a ghost. You heard them, remember? I’m…my Obsession is influencing my brain. And…” He looked at the ceiling. “And, well, maybe it is. But Operative—the Guys in White were still there today. And I…I think I’ve seen them before today too. I thought I was…but no, I think it was them.”

Tears glittered in Jazz’s eyes.

“You have to convince them for me.”

“I’ll try my best. We can talk to them tonight together.”

Danny shook his head. “It’ll never work if I’m there. They think I’m crazy.”

“They don’t think that.”

“They’re scared of me. Or, the half of me they don’t like.”

“No.” Jazz wiped her eyes with her sleeves. “No, that’s not true.”

“I’m not deaf, Jazz. I heard them. Remember?”

“They love you so much, Danny. I promise. They’re scared for you.”

“What’s there to be scared for?” Danny pressed his finger into his thighs, feeling only the strange sensation of pressure in return. “It’s not like…I don’t know, it’s not like I’m banned from—banned from existing. That’s what the court case was all about, right?”

“Right.”

“And I’ve been in therapy for months. I go there every day. They know I’m not going to—to hurt myself.”

Jazz pressed her lips into a thin line. “I know.”

“So why don’t they?”

“This summer was…” She sighed. “This summer was hard, Danny. We’d all do it all over again if it meant getting you under legal protection, but the period you were gone? That was—it—” Her voice broke. “Not knowing if you were alive or dead, not hearing a word about you for weeks? That was terrifying. The last thing we remembered was you being carted off by the Guys in White and SWAT teams, knocked out, electrocuted, and then you were gone. Just like that. And when you were finally brought back to us…”

His eyes felt too dry for once. His body was too calm to rewake that pain.

“I know—I know it was so much worse for you. I know our experiences outside don’t even begin to compare to yours. I understand, and they do too. But in the flash of an eye, their entire world changed. They’re coping.”

“Their coping is going to get me killed, though.”

“The government can’t touch you.”

Anxious Danny might have snapped at that. But Anxious Danny wasn’t here right now. He continued in the same bland tone as before, “You have no idea what the government is capable of.”

Jazz’s expression tightened.

“If their reasoning for not giving me back control over my core is—is just that this summer was hard for them, then that’s a shit excuse. And it’s going to get me killed. That’s really—really…that’s really it.”

“I know. I’m not making excuses, I’m just explaining what’s going through their heads.”

“Then you need to talk to them. Because at—at this point, I’ve said everything I can.” 

Jazz mopped at her face again, nodding. “I know.”

Danny reached his hand out, gently lowering it to her arm. He felt her stiffen before her free hand shot down to clutch his.

She was trembling.

“I need you, Jazz. You’re…you’re my sister. I need you to be on my side right now.”

“I am. I’ll try. We can bring it up tonight as a united front. I’ll lead the conversation.”

He gave her arm a gentle squeeze before breaking off the contact. He sank back into the cushions, closing his eyes. “Thanks.”

Jazz sniffled beside him.

---

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening. The painkillers had worn off, and Danny was itching to escape upstairs to lie down.

But Maddie insisted that he eat, so he picked at his bowl of noodles, not bothering to hide the fact that he really didn’t feel like putting anything down his throat at the moment.

Thankfully, his parents didn’t seem to want to fight him tonight.

“So…” Danny started.

Maddie took the bait. “We met with the lawyer today.”

“Okay, and?”

At Maddie’s despondent look, Jack took over, placing his hand on hers. “The government can’t touch you legally. We want to make that very clear. No matter what, they can’t take you.”

“But…” Danny prompted.

“But as far as everything else goes, at this current moment, we can’t do anything about them showing up in the same buildings as you.”

Danny wanted to laugh. Or cry. 

Or both.

“We tried to file a no-contact or a restraining order,” Maddie said. “But due to the current laws, we can’t get anything. If the agents physically hurt you, then we might have a case. But unfortunately, as of right now, our hands are tied.”

“Nothing can be done,” Danny muttered numbly. 

“I’m sorry, son,” Jack said. “We’re going to continue to see what other paths we can take. We won’t give up, I promise.”

Danny had always known that the Guys in White weren’t finished with him, that they were on a mission to cleanse the world of all things ecto. He knew that no matter where he went, they would follow.

But it still hurt to hear.

“So that’s it,” Danny said. “I just have to wait till they hurt me in front of everyone.”

“We’ll never let it get to that point,” Maddie said.

Danny shook his head, his eyes staring blankly at the table. “Okay.”

Because what could he say to that? He couldn’t just pretend like this was fine, like he was fine with this. Because that would have been so insane of a lie that not even his dad would have bought it.

Jazz’s eyes flickered between them. “There’s also the other thing we talked about before dinner, Mom.”

“I know.” Maddie looked to Jack for support. He gave a solemn nod, and she pressed forward, despite looking like she’d rather do anything else. “We know that your…halfa psychology makes situations like these difficult for you emotionally.”

Danny’s mood darkened instinctively. Any mention of his ghostly Obsession with his parents had a tendency to turn sour.

“I know that things haven’t exactly gone the way you’ve wanted them to. And I hope you understand that everything we’ve done has been for you and your safety.”

Yeah, because I’m so ‘safe’ that I can’t even defend myself, Danny internally quipped.

“We know that…protection…is something that’s important to you. And Mr. Lancer said that you, um, struggled after the confrontation,” Maddie said.

“I had a breakdown,” Danny stated, his dead tone surprising himself.

“Right,” Maddie said awkwardly.

“Jazz mentioned that the situation has gone directly against your core,” Jack said. “And we’re worried about that too.”

There was one way they could fix this, but Danny wasn’t going to be the one to say it. They knew what he was thinking.

Maddie sighed. “We were wondering if there was anything that you wanted to talk to us about. About this, your core, any of it.”

Danny didn’t let a single muscle twitch in his face. No way did they deserve a clue—not after they were the reason that Danny was completely defenseless against the Guys in White today.

They sat at the kitchen table listening to the hum of the fridge. The grandfather clock that Jack had built ticked on, each click seeming louder than the last. 

And finally, Danny shrugged.

“Well,” Jazz said. “I think Danny has done a really good job at upholding his end of the bargain. And now we’re at a point where continuing in this trajectory is going to actively hurt his progress in therapy.”

“And we agree to a certain extent. But honey…”

“But nothing, Mom. We’ve talked about this: Danny is as much of a human as he is a ghost. It’s not fair to him or his psychology that he’s spent months without access to his core. And with the government making bolder moves such as this, it’s important to Danny—and me too—that he is secure.”

Danny didn’t like being talked about as if he were a test subject, but if this was what it took to get his core back, then so be it.

“The government is not going to touch him. Not unless they want to be sued to hell and back for violating court orders,” Maddie said.

Oh, he could scream. 

“I’m not talking about that; I’m talking about how this affects Danny’s mental health. The whole point of the chip was to give him the safety he needed to heal, but the issue is that now the chip is actively interfering with the entire reason it was created.”

“But to go from zero to full powers right now…” Maddie drifted off.

Jack nodded. “I agree, it’s too much.”

“Well, you guys are the scientists. Figure out a way to adjust the power level on the chip, then.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed, snapping to Jazz. Just what in the world was she saying?

Jack pondered her proposition. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I know.” Jazz leaned back and folded her arms in that annoying fashion she did when she thought she’d won.

“Hun, I don’t even think that’s possible. To access those mechanics on the chip, we’d need to extract it from Danny,” Maddie said.

“Maybe!” Jack snapped his fingers. “This chip might not be flexible, but I bet we could build one that was! And we’d be able to remotely configure it!”

Immediately, Danny felt sick.

Apparently, Maddie didn’t, judging by the way her eyes lit up. “And then we could even program it to slowly fade its power levels! Oh, Jack, that’s brilliant.”

“Aren’t you glad you have such a genius for a husband?” 

“I am!”

“Don’t worry, son, we’ll get you fixed up in no time!” Jack gave him a thumbs up.

Danny was careful to not let the mask slip from his face and betray how truly revolted he was by this plan.

A chip that let his parents remotely set how much control over his core he had? He couldn’t think of anything more dystopian.

Perhaps noticing his silence, Maddie prompted, “Honey?” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Danny admitted.

“You can say anything on your mind, dear. This is…we’re a team.” 

Even as she said those words that had been repeated so many times before, her voice sounded unconfident. 

Danny could have laughed at the irony.

“You already know what I’m going to say.” Danny’s eyes traveled up from the table until they pierced hers. “There’s nothing else.”

“Yes, and you understand why we can’t just give you free rein of your ghost powers, right?” she asked. 

No.

“Yes.”

“And you know that—that you’re still safe, right? You’re still protected in the meantime?” Maddie asked.

He wasn’t safe.

“Yes, I know.” 

“The law is final, son,” Jack said gently. “They can intimidate you all they want, but they will never be able to touch you at all.”

“Sure.”

“And pretty soon, you’ll start to have your powers back. Okay?” Maddie said.

Danny looked away. “I was just scared. That was all.”

---

Danny glared at the name on his screen. Never in his wildest dreams could he ever have imagined he would be willingly seeking this scum of the Earth out, but he had no other choice.

He was down to his last few pills, and with the escalating boldness of the Guys in White, there was no way he was going to make it out of this intact.

Grumbling for the tenth time, he pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear.

Later on, he would be disgusted at how quickly Vlad picked up the phone. “Daniel!” he said, his voice too cheerful. “What a lovely surprise!”

“Yeah, lovely.” Danny’s tone was anything but. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure? Does your mother miss me?” 

Danny closed his eyes, remembering Vlad’s warning about his calls being tapped.

“Gross, no, shut up about my mom. I’m…I need help. With a school project.”

He could feel Vlad’s grin on the other end of the line. “A school project, you say? That seems a bit bland of a request.”

“In—in science. I had an idea, but I need resources. And you’re…rich.”

“Science? My, that is interesting! If you don’t mind me asking, Little Badger, why not just ask your parents for assistance?”

Cocky bastard. 

“I feel bad. They’ve—they’ve done a lot for me, and…I know they’re busy. They were meeting with the lawyer today, and I just don’t want to—to bother them. With this. And I know you…from your college days, you have experience and your old gadgets still.”

“Surely your parents have some old gadgets in their shed you can toy with.”

“Most of those are fried. You know how my dad gets.” He knew that Vlad was just trying to pick at any loophole in their conversation, and he needed to play along, as much as he hated it. “I wan–wanted to show the school that I’m okay. You know? They have me in these—the Learning Center, and I wanted to prove I can handle real classes again. I need something to impress them. Especially after today, I just…I don’t want them to think I can’t—I can’t handle myself.”

There was a brief moment of silence on the other line before Vlad hummed. “I see. Well, you know I am a very busy man, Daniel.”

“Yes, but…”

“However, I suppose since you reached out, I would be delighted to help my favorite nephew with his assignment. Does tomorrow after school work for you? I can pick you up if so.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “Yeah. That’s fine, I don’t have PT. There—it’s just that I’m under…I get picked up by my mom.”

“I see. So would I have to contact the school to pick you up instead?”

“No, I don’t—I don’t think so. I think I can ask my mom.”

“Alright, well, hopefully dear Maddie and my old friend Jack won’t be too jealous that you’ve asked me to help you rather than them. Do tell your mother hello for me, alright?”

“Whatever,” Danny grumbled. Then, remembering the code, he slapped a fake smile on his lips and bared his teeth into the receiver, “Thank you, Vlad! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Ta!”

---

previous / next

---

Thanks so much for @imekitty for doing beta work while mid-NaNoWriMo. That is insane so please appreciate her thank you 💚

[gsuschr1st]

THE FOLLOWING IS A NON-PROFIT FAN-BASED AU FANFICTION

DANNY PHANTOM IS OWNED BY NICKELODEON, PARAMOUNT STUDIOS, BUTCH HARTMAN, AND VIACOM INTERNATIONAL

PLEASE ENJOY THE FOLLOWING PHANTOM! JAZZ AU, ONE SHOT, I THOUGHT OF.

Jazz Victoria Fenton is a fresh college student and Amity Park's resident ghost superhero protector named: "The Phantom." The inhabitants of her hometown were now facing a new monster hunter developed by the guys in white dubbed "The Spector Slayer." On a roof of an unnamed building Jazz now gets into a defense karate stance and inspects the Slayer.

As Jazz inspected the Slayer, noticing he wore a suit designed to fit the style of a ninja-styled grim reaper, the suit looked reasonably similar to her parent's prototype super suits. Still, it had some specific variations to it.

For example, the armor looked futuristic, probably built with nanotech machines. The armor shade was dark blue, with bright white complementing the blue.

It looked like it would fit a person with a light heavyweight 6ft body stature, not overly muscular, but could fit someone with a decent, slim muscle build. The hood of the suit looked almost like a reapers hood, with it being colored jet black along with the cape attached to it. The material on the cape was probably a leather-styled material built for glider-based mobility.

The mask the Slayer wore only covered his ears, nose, and entire chin, only leaving his eyes visible. The mask reminded Jazz of the game Mortal Kombat the one her brother played a lot with Tucker, where this one character Noob had a face mask that looked very similar to the one the Slayer wore.

But what had caught Jazz's attention the most was the Slayer's eyes. They had the same navy blue color that reminded her of her missing younger brother Daniel "Danny" Vladimir Fenton.

"Danny?"

Jazz asked, shocked at the idea that this menacing figure could be her little brother.

The Slayer didn't say anything, only tilting his head in confusion, but he then readjusted himself in an aggressive attack stance, looking like a mixture between judo and jeet kun do. The Slayer's eyes harden into an intense murderous glare, making Jazz's skin crawl.

The Slayer hears a voice through his mask that is Agent O from the Guys In White. It sounds full of determined pride and disgust, erupting to reach The Slayer's ears, but only one command is uttered.

"Slayer combat protocol 432004 has been initiated. Eliminate the ghost girl."

After those words had been spoken to the Slayer, his eyes had started to dilate rather quickly, and then they were colored purely engulfed by a dark blue. The pigment shined and glowed like a new diamond.

In a flash, The Slayer moved so quickly from Jazz's perspective that it seemed like he teleported. This movement surprised her enormously as Jazz was just registering that her maybe brother turned super soldier monster slayer had. Just. Teleported. In front of her very eyes, a swift punch connects to her face hitting with a harsh Pow as the Slayer's fist lands on Jazz's face, sending her a few feet away and making her back hit a railing on the roof of this unnamed building.

"Ok… That was super painful."

Jazz says she regains her balance enters a defensive karate stance, and dashes to attack the Slayer. Each blow she tries to use is either blocked or strategically countered with a more vigorous blow from different martial arts such as; wing chun, jeet kune do, and boxing.

Each hit felt light baseballs being thrown at her at 15 miles per hour. The pressure of the punches had begun to put Jazz in a dazed state, but she needed to find a way to outmaneuver this opponent.

The Slayer dashes to connect an acrobatic jump kick; however, Jazz quickly turns intangible, making him phase through her completely. He lands in a kneeling position. The Slayer turns to face Jazz, only to see that there were now ten of her surrounding him.

"Danny, please, I don't want to fight you; it's me, Jazz remember? Your big sister?"

One clone of Jazz tells The Slayer he now just stares at each clone curiously. He had wondered why his target called him that and why she looked so familiar. Sadly, before any semblance of his target's memory could return, Agent O Yelled into Slayer's ear.

"SLAYER. DO. NOT. BE DISWAYED BY THIS THING! DESTROY HER NOW!"

After that, a sharp shock hits The Slayer. It felt as if a Taser was scratching at his mind. He grabs his head with both hands relatively in a violent tight fashion; after that, memories return. Flashes of a home, his parents, friends, and then…

"KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL…"

The Slayer's body goes deadly stiff and limp for a few seconds. One of the Jazz clones walks up to him touching his shoulder. After she does so, The Slayer, in a blindingly quick fashion, grabs the hand, pulling the clone closer then a fast slash is heard.

Then the clone evaporates, revealing a singular scythe powered by ectoplasm.

[Authors note: Like death from Darksiders.]

Ectoplasm blasts are shot at The Slayer. Even a few clones dog pile on him, trying to pin him down to not only slow down The Slayer but also give the original Jazz a chance to think of a plan to knock out The Slayer.

Then rather aggressively, the clones that the dog piled on him are pushed off of him, sending each one far back, and then another ectoplasm-powered scythe.

Meanwhile, the original Jazz is now trying to stay invisible to find an opening to overshadow and incapacitate her possible missing brother, the clones are a decent enough distraction, but most of them are being quickly outmatched by the speed, as well as strength of The Slayer and being sliced apart by the Slayer's duel welding scythes.

Though every single clone is being dispatched, Jazz notices an opportunity. After the last clone disappears with a devasting set of slashes to aid in that predicament, Jazz from behind tries to overshadow the Slayer and try out her new special attack. Which is a strong psychokinesis attack intended to keep him knocked out for 6 hours. This attack surprisingly works.

After a few minutes, Jazz sees The Slayer's mind seeing all of his memories, which confirms her suspicions that The Slayer is her brother, and she sees why Danny went missing.

All Jazz feels now is anger. The guys in white are going to pay.

[sunnys567]

Friends in Strange Places Ch. 4 Pt 1

What if Vlad was good instead of evil? Link to chapter 1:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39040329/chapters/97656390

--------------------------------------------------

"...And these ghost candies have been in your pocket for how long?" Sam asked.

"Well, I got them in Colorado..."

"So, for about two weeks." Tucker raised an eyebrow. Him and Sam were looking at the green candies in Danny's hand like they were dead bugs.

"They seem fine to me." Danny shrugged. He decided Sam and Tucker didn't need to know that they'd probably been through the wash at least twice.

"Danny they're glowing."

"And you got them from a ghost, dude."

"Her name was Bernie, and she was very nice. C'mon, aren't you guys at least a little curious?"

"This seems like a bad idea," Tucker said, taking a candy "But I'll admit I am."

"Welp, we might as well all die together." Sam shrugged, taking a candy herself.

The three of them unwrapped the candies and popped them into their mouth.

Sam and Tucker immediately began spluttering and spit their candies out.

"That was the worst thing I've ever tasted!" Sam said.

"Agreed." Tucker nodded. "And the bar for stuff I'll eat is real low."

"How was it bitter and sour at the same time?"

"Maybe you guys are tasting the ectoplasm." Danny said. "I guess they are ghost candies."

"Danny, how are you eating that?" Sam gaped.

"Dude, those things taste like they hate you."

"It tastes kinda sweet." Danny shrugged. "It's not really a specific flavour, but it tastes like something I can't really describe. Kind of reminds me of Amity Park Park on a sunny day?"

"Ectoplasm tastes sweet to you?" Tucker asked, his face a mix of intrigue and disgust.

"Huh? Oh no, I think I just started noticing the taste of ectoplasm less when I became half-ghost."

"Danny." Sam put her hands together. "Why do you know what ectoplasm tastes like before and after the accident."

"I get blasted in the face with ecto-based attacks on a regular basis. Some of it ends up in my mouth." Danny raised his hands defensively.

"And before?" Tucker asked.

"Sometimes you're seven, and you dare your sister to eat some, but she'll only do it if you do too. Or you're three, and it a bright colour, and three-year-olds like putting bright colours in their mouth, or..." Danny trailed off when he noticed Tucker and Sam's horrified expressions. "Look, I was raised by two ghost hunters. It happens."

"How are you not dead?" Sam asked.

"I probably should be dead for, like, twenty different reasons, but eating ectoplasm isn't one of them. It's not poisonous, turns out."

"On that note," Tucker stood up "I have to go home and eat literally anything that isn't ectoplasm."

"What time is it?" Sam checked her watch. "5:47? Already? Jeez, it's almost my supper time too."

"Aw, why do you guys eat so early?" Danny winded as he followed them out of his room and down the stairs.

"Danny, most people have supper before 8:00. You're the weirdo here." Tucker said.

"Okay, first off, we eat before 8:00-"

"7:30's not much better dude."

"And second, I'm not weird!"

"Danny," Sam said, opening the door "You eat ectoplasm."

"You're misconstruing what I said! I do not eat-"

The door shut before Danny could finish his sentence. Danny grumbled to himself before sitting down on the living room couch.

Danny rolled the candy around with his tongue. He still hadn't figured out what the weird flavour was.

Whatever it was, it was bringing up old memories; like going fishing with Dad, Mom taking him to the park, and daring Jazz to eat ectoplasm.

As Danny got lost in his memories, the candy steadily got smaller and smaller. Eventually it disappeared entirely, leaving Danny with a strange empty feeling.

Danny was suddenly filled with the urge to go to the kitchen. His mind had drifted there a lot while he was sucking on the candy.

He hoped someone would be sitting there.

--------------------------------------------------

Sure enough, Dad and Jazz were both sitting at the table. Jazz was writing on a some papers, surrounded by a small pile of books. His dad had gutted some small device and was examining some of the wires.

Danny just stood in the doorframe and watched them for a bit. It was kind of nice how normal the scene looked. Well, Danny supposed most people's parents didn't wear neon jumpsuits at the kitchen table, but it was normal for the Fentons. There was a comfort in their special kind of normal that Danny hadn't really thought about much.

"Danny!" Jack beamed once he'd noticed Danny's arrival. "You're just in time! I need some help with this."

"Oh." Danny immediately tensed. "Um, what exactly is 'this'?"

Danny prepared for his father to tell him in great detail what horrors this new device could potentially afflict on him.

"He's just fixing the toaster." Jazz said. "No dangerous weapons, or anything that's designed to cause any harm to humans or ghosts in any way whatsoever. Theoretically, anyway."

Oh.

Danny felt himself relax again. It would be nice to not tense up every time his parents were working on something new. Especially since, being professional inventors, they were working on something new very often.

It would be a huge relief, a voice in his head said.

Then again, the only way to remedy that situation might cause his parents to start making new things specifically to destroy him, which would not be a huge relief.  

"I need you to go to the basement and get me a screwdriver." His dad's voice snapped Danny out of his thoughts. "The one I had earlier is missing."

"Why can't Jazz do it?"

"Because Jazz is working on an important essay on the long term effects of suppression." Jazz turned a page in the book she was reading. "While Danny is standing there not doing anything particularly important right now."

Danny stuck his tongue out at Jazz.

"Love you too little brother." she said, not looking up from her book.

"That's the third misplaced screwdriver this week!" Danny said, turning back to his dad. "How do you keep losing them?"

"I'm not losing them, they're being taken."

"By who?"

"The rats!"

"Why would rats-"

"Ghost rats!"

"Ah, there we go."

"I don't know what those little creeps are up to," Jack narrowed his eyes at some point in the distance "But I just know it's something nefarious!"

"Right, right. I'm going to the lab now."

--------------------------------------------------

Danny grumbled as he dug through piles of tools and machine scraps. This lab was a  absolute disaster! His parents could have made an effort to keep things at least semi-organized, but nope! The tables and shelves were filled with piles that all held new surprises every time you looked through them. Some of those surprises bit, too.

Finally, after at least ten minutes of searching (and no biting, luckily), Danny found a pile that contained a screwdriver.

"Ah hah!" he cried, triumphantly thrusting it over his head.

That was when his ghost sense went off.

"Seriously?!"

Danny quickly turned turned towards the portal, transformed, and floated into a battle position.

A familiar bird head popped out of the portal.

"Hey fellas!" He cried "It vorked!"

Two more bird heads popped out beside him.

"Really?" the one with the glasses said.

"Amazing!" the raspy voiced one said "Ve can finally get out of da stupid Ghost Zone!"

The vultures suddenly noticed Danny.

"Ay, ghost kid!" The leader greeted him as the birds entered the lab the rest of the way.

"How on earth did you three get here?"

"Good to see you too kid, tanks for asking."

"Ve've been vorking on finding your portal for months." The raspy-voiced vulture said.

"Oh yeah," Danny had completely forgotten about Vlad saying that he'd try to find a route. "Does that mean Vlad's with you?"

"Sorry kid, he's off on a business trip."

"Oh." That meant Vlad wouldn't even be at his house. That was a shame becasue Danny really wanted to talk about their conversation at the cabin. He still felt bad about that.

"If you see him, do you think you could tell Vlad I'm sorry about what happened at the cabin?"

"Eh, I don't tink you got anything to apologize for." the lead vulture said. "In my opinion, you seem to have done some good for Plasmius. He's finally dragged himself out of the lab and back to terapy like I've been telling him to do for veeks."

"Wait, he's gone back to therapy? What for?"

"For da whole friendship situation." the leader turned to the other two "Not the brightest, dis one, eh?"

"So, has the therapist been helping?" Danny asked, deciding to ignore that comment.

"It's a process." the lead vulture shrugged. "He seems to tink Vlad should stop hiding and just tell his friends vhat's going on. Of course, he doesn't know exactly vhat it is Vlad's hiding, but Vlad seems to think that he's talking sense."

"Wait, you mean Vlad's thinking about telling my parents he's half-ghost?"

"Aie," the vulture with the glasses frowned "You probably shouldn't have mentioned dat. You know Vlad's still figuring things out."  

"Eh, da kid vas going to find out anyvay."

"Danny!" his father called down from the top of the stairs. "Did you find that screwdriver, son?"

"Sounds like dat's our cue." the lead vulture said as the three of them turned towards the portal. "Don't forget to change before you go up, yea?"

With that the birds flew back into the portal and Danny was left alone in the lab.

Vlad was going to tell them.

Danny stood there staring at the portal. After a few seconds, a wave of anger rose up in Danny.

For twenty years, Vlad had been too much of a coward to even speak to his parents, and now he was just going to risk it all and tell them everything?

Vlad had spent his time as a ghost hidden safely away in his stupid mansion. Danny was the one who'd risked his neck living under the roof of ghost hunters every day. What right did Vlad have to put them at risk like that? How could he-

"Danny?"

"Yup!" Danny transformed out of his ghost form. "I'm coming Dad!"

--------------------------------------------------

"I found a screwdriver." Danny said as he emerged from the basement. He hoped it wasn't obvious how perturbed he was.

"Excellent!" his father said, taking the screwdriver.

Good, it wasn't obvious. Or maybe his dad just didn't notice.

"When I'm done, this baby'll work better than ever before!"

"Great."

Danny glared at the toaster. For the past few months he'd had to tiptoe around countless of his parent's rogue inventions. Vlad had been to their house one time and decided that was all just too hard, apparently.

"You okay, Danno? You seem kind of off."

Jazz's eyes flicked up from her textbook at Jack's words.

"Oh, I'm fine, I just, uh..." Danny forgot how unreliable his dad's denseness could be. He needed to switch the topic to anything. "What are you doing to the toaster anyway?"

Jazz did something weird with her lips, then went back to reading.

"Well son, your mother was complaining about it not working properly earlier. I'm fixing it up to surprise her. Done!" Jack held up the toaster triumphantly. "Not only is it fixed, but I've implemented our new experimental ecto-based energy generator, so the toaster creates its own power! You don't even need to plug it in anymore! Now we just need to test it out."

Jack slid two sliced of bread into the toaster and pushed the handle down.

"Uh, are you sure that's a good id-"

The toaster began shaking violently.

--------------------------------------------------

"-and that's how I spent my evening fighting an evil toaster." Danny concluded.

Tucker was trying very hard not to choke on his sloppy joe. Sam was barely hiding a grin.

"And how long did it take you to subdue the toaster?" she asked.

"About an hour." Danny grumbled. He didn't think the situation was that funny.

"So it was just you, your dad, and Jazz running around your house for an hour trying to subdue a sentient toaster?" Sam covered her mouth with her hand "Because that is a very entertaining image."

"Pretty much."

Tucker and Sam burst out laughing.

It could've been faster if Dad and Jazz knew about your powers. A voice in Danny's head said. He pushed the thought away.

He'd had thoughts like that ever since the accident but, after Colorado, they were becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

Luckily, Danny's ghost sense going off provided a convenient distraction.

Danny stood up, but a flash of red out the window made him sit back down.

"Huntress on this one?" Sam asked.

"Yup." Danny said.

"You don't have to look so grumpy." Tucker said. "She's kind of doing you a favour."

"No, she's just moving the problem down the line." Danny said. "For some reason she doesn't capture the ghosts she fights, so that just means I have and deal with them later."

"At least they're not bothering you in school." Sam said. "I'm not sure your grades could take that."

"Hey! I'm making mostly A's these days."

"Your last report card was mostly B's, Danny."

"There were some A's on there!"

"You know, it might be worth just trying to talk to her." Tucker said. "Maybe she's friendly."

"And just how many ghost hunters have we met that have been willing to give a ghost a chance?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but it's not like we know that many ghost hunters." Tucker pointed out.

"Even so, I'm with Sam." Danny said. "The odds on 'friendly ghost hunter' are not great, and I have enough trouble in my life as it is, so I'd like to keep off of her radar for as long as possible."

The lunch bell rang. Danny realized he'd gotten distracted by The Red Huntress and had forgotten to tell Sam and Tucker about his conversation with the vultures.

He'd just have to tell them after school.

--------------------------------------------------

Valerie waited around the corner. She'd bumped into Tucker alone here after lunch on another Thursday, so maybe that would happen again.

"Bingo." she smiled as she saw him walking down the hall by himself, absorbed in his PDA.

"Hey Foley." she said, stepping around the corner.

"Oh, hey Valerie." Tucker looked up from his device. "What's up?"

"You're good with weird tech stuff, right?"

"The very best." Tucker beamed proudly.

"Right. And how good are you at keeping secrets?"

"I am also pretty good at that. Why?"

"I need a favour."

"What kind of a favour?"

"First," Valerie swung her backpack around and grabbed the zipper "You've got to swear you won't tell anyone about this."

Valerie narrowed her eyes at Tucker in a way that made his skin crawl.

"Y-yeah, sure. No problem. My lips are sealed."

"Good." Valerie's face morphed back into a smile as she unzipped and dug through her bag. "So is there anyway you'd be able to make this part of a glove?" Valerie pulled out a small green device.

"A Fenton Hand shield?" Tucker took the device from Valerie's hand. "Where'd you get one of these?"

"Where do you think?" Valerie raised an eyebrow. "Not like it was hard. The Fentons will literally just give them out to anyone who shows up at their door. I didn't even ask them for it."

"That's...not actually that surprising. But what were you doing at their door in the first place?"

"Yeah...now's not really the best time for questions. Fourth period starting soon and all." Valerie said, glancing at her watch. "Wanna meet up after school?"

Tucker looked at the hand shield. Something about this whole situation seemed kind of off. Then again, there was only one way to find out more about what was going on.

Besides, it was just Valerie. How much trouble could she possibly be getting into?

"Yeah, alright. I'll meet you out front after school."

"Great!" Valerie beamed.

Tucker didn't know how, but Valerie seemed to mould the environment around her with her facial expression. The world scarier wen she was mad at you, but also brighter when she smiled.

"See you then! Don't want to be late." Valerie waved, heading off to her next class.

"See ya!" Tucker waved back as she disappeared around the corner.

Tucker looked at the hand shield. He'd never wired electronics into clothing before, but the hand shield was a pretty simple device, so it'd probably be doable with a little online help...

The sound of the bell snapped Tucker out of his thoughts.

"Right! Class!" Tucker stuffed the hand shield into his pocket and sprinted off to class.

-----------------------------------

"Welp, see you guys later." Tucker waved to Danny and Sam as they exited the school building.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sam asked.

"I'm meeting up with Valerie. We're going to my house to, uh... work on a bio project."

Sam narrowed her eyes at Tucker.

"Oh, okay." Danny said. "See you later then."

"See ya!" Tucker waved.

Sam kept her eyes on Tucker as he walked away.

"He's hiding something." She said to Danny as they began walking home.

"Yeah?" Danny asked distractedly.

Sam raised an eyebrow at Danny.

"Clearly he's not the only one."

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon Danny, I've been your friend for long enough to be able to tell that something's on your mind."

Danny sighed.

"I was talking to Vlad's vultures yesterday, and-"

"Wait, his what?"

"I didn't tell you about the vultures?"

"No. No you did not."

"Well, anyway, he has these three vultures that work for him, and-"

"Vlad has ghosts that work for him? Does he pay them? And why vultures? I have so many questions about this situation."

"Sam!"

"Right, sorry, what were you saying?"

"They said that Vlad might be planning on telling my parents he's half-ghost."

Sam's eyes briefly widened before narrowing in anger.

"Seriously? I hope you told them what a stupid idea that is. Ugh, that's so selfish of him. Doesn't he care about the danger that puts himself and you in?"

"Yeah, it's just that, I've been thinking...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if my parents knew."

Sam stopped walking and gawked at Danny.

"Okay," she pinched the bridge of her nose and resumed walking "Is there some kind of brain-scrambling disease going around that only affects half-ghosts or something?"

"I know it sound crazy, Sam. It's just...sometimes it feels like there's this gap between me and my family. Not to mention there's a lot of situations where it would have been really convienent if they knew."

"Danny, keeping your ghost powers a secret is the best option. Best case scenario, your parents turn into pests that fuss over you every time you fight a ghost. And worst case scenario, they try to tear you apart molecule by molecule."

They stopped walking as they reached Fenton Works.

"I get having to tiptoe around them is annoying, but if you tell them, they probably wouldn't really get it, and it'd just be a huge hassle for you to deal with. It's just not worth it."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Danny said as he ascended the steps. "It was a stupid idea. I'll see you tomorrow."

He shut the door before he Sam could reply.

"Hello?" Danny called. No one answered. His parents were probably in the basement, and Jazz had probably decided to stop at the library before coming home.

Danny wished he could talk to Jazz about, well, everything. As much as he hated to admit it, Jazz understood his feelings better than even he did sometimes.

But if he told Jazz everything, she might think there was something wrong with him. She meant well, but Danny couldn't risk her worrying and going to Mom and Dad.

And...maybe it would hurt a little if his sister thought he was a messed up freak. Danny never really felt like a freak, but it would still hurt if the people he loved thought of him that way.

Danny sighed to himself and swung his backpack off of his shoulder. It had barely touched the ground before he felt his ghost sense go off.

"Seriously?" He groaned before transforming. He grabbed The Fenton Thermos out of his backpack and flew through the door. He floated above the house and looked around.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

"Oh come on!" Danny shouted at the sky as the ghost flew up to his level.

"TREMBLE AT THE CAPACITY OF MY CORRUGATED CAPABILITIES!"

"Alright," Danny's fists lit up green "Let's just get this over with."

Before Danny could do anything, a pink beam blasted the box ghost from the side.

Danny looked over and saw the Red Huntress a few meters away on her hoverboard. She looked ready to shoot the box ghost again, but then she turned to look at Danny.

Uh oh.

"Don't shoot!" Danny raised his hands in the air. "I'm not with him! I swear!"

The Huntress laughed.

"Relax." she said. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You're not?" Danny cautiously lowered his arms. "But aren't you a ghost hunter?"

"Yeah, but I know you're one of the good ones. Danny Phantom, right?"

"You know me?"

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

Without looking way from The Huntress, Danny raised his Fenton Thermos and sucked The Box Ghost into it.

"Woah!" The Huntress exclaimed "What on earth is that?"

"Uh-"

"Hey, wait a minute," The Huntress's visor almost seemed to squint "Is that The Fenton Works logo?"

"Um..." Danny instincitively his the thermos behind his back. "No?"

"Do you steal the Fenton's ghost hunting equipment?"

"Hey! Why are you jumping right to 'steal'?"

"Please. Like those two would willingly help a ghost in any way."

"Okay, fair point, but I need this to catch ghosts. It's the only way to contain them and get them back to The Ghost Zone."

"Contain them, eh? You know, I could use something like that."

"What?"

"Something to contain ghosts. At this point I've just been scaring them away, hoping that that deters them from messing with anyone."

"Wait, you don't actually have a way to contain ghosts?" Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh my gosh. You clearly aren't prepared for this at all. What made you think hunting ghosts was a good idea in the first place?"

"You, actually."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I wanted to fight evil ghosts and keep people safe, like you do. You kind of inspired me when you saved me from Axiom."

"Axiom?"

"Yeah. When that ghost dog showed up, I lost everything. I was angry and scared for a while, but now I can channel those things into something useful. My life may have been destroyed that day, but I've been given the chance to build a better one, and I'm going to take it!"

Oh no.

Danny knew that voice.

"Valerie!?"

"Didn't know you knew my name." Valerie casually remarked. "I'm flattered you remember me. Hey, I know technically I owe you one for saving me and my dad's life, but any chance you could hook me up with one of those thermoses? It would really be-"

"No way! This is the only one, and I need it."

"Oh. Well, maybe we could-"

"Sorry, I gotta go." Danny's head was swimming from the discovery he'd just made. "See ya."

"But, wait! I just-"

But Danny had already turned invisible and zoomed off.

"Man," Valerie said to herself "He was certainly in a hurry."

She checked the screen of her ghost radar, but there was no ecto-signature on it.

"Weird..." Valerie muttered to herself.

Maybe Phantom had just flown off really fast? He'd have to be going pretty fast to get out of her radar's range that quickly, but-

"Oh no!" Valerie was suddenly snapped from her musings "Tucker!"

-------------------------------------

Danny flew through his window and stopped above his bed. He transformed and let himself drop out of the air onto his mattress.

Valerie was The Red Huntress.

Danny pulled his pillow over his face and groaned.

Why'd it to be Valerie. Why couldn't it have been someone he didn't see in school everyday?

Danny reached for his cell phone, but changed his mind halfway through dialing Tucker's number. Tucker was studying with Valerie tonight.

"You could've picked anyone to be your bio partner, Tuck." Danny rubbed his face.

He thought about calling Sam but...

Yeah, Danny didn't really want to talk with Sam alone right now. He'd just have to tell them tomorrow. This would be a better conversation to have in person anyway.

Of course that left Danny all on his own to ruminate on this new information. As well as the whole Vlad situation. And the voice in his head telling him how much easier it would be if he just told his parents-

Danny tossed his cell phone back on his night stand. Why was his life so complicated?

He dug his Game Boy out of his nightstand. He just a break from drama and ghosts.

There was already a game cartridge in the slot. Danny pulled it out. It was Pac-Man Collection, his go-to game since elementary school.

Danny reopened his nightstand drawer. He was more in the mood for Tetris right now.

--------------------------------------------------

[aikoiya]

DP HC - Souls As Money?

I just read an idea that had it so that souls could be used to pay one's taxes in the Ghost Zone.

Yeah, I'm sorry, but that feels more like a Hell thing, while I feel like the Ghost Zone is more like Purgatory. As such, I only think the most powerful of Ghost Zone residents would be able to possess other's souls. But that's just me. Like, sure, ghosts can feed off of them & make them more powerful, but even amongst ghosts, I think that'd be considered highly morally compromised & can eventually lead to the ghost becoming a lesser demon which automatically sends them to Hell & makes them incapable of feeling real pleasure or happiness or even something as simple as satisfaction. There is absolutely NO coming back from Hell. The only one who's ever managed it was Jesus & let's be honest, none of us can measure up.

Once you're gone, you're done. Do not pass go! Do not collect $200! No more reincarnation!

You. Are. Stuck.

I mean, at least, to me. Like, I hc that souls are what's at the center of a ghost's core.

And, I just don't think that souls can really be killed by anyone other than whoever originally created souls. *cough*God*cough*

More so, I feel like they generate 'soul energy/magic' & that's what demons feed off of. If you completely deplete a soul of its energy all at once, then it damages the soul but doesn't kill it & if the soul ever does reincarnate, the damage sustained as a soul results in several mental health deficiencies that, if severe enough, can eventually lead to things like cannibals, rapists, serial killers, pedophiles, that sort of thing. On small scales, it results in extreme anxiety, clinical depression, schizophrenia, MPD, & so on & so forth.

If you're sparing about it, the soul can regenerate soul energy, but the process of draining it is very painful to the soul & this slow method is arguably worse for the soul than just outright draining the energy all at once & being done with it.

So, no. I think souls could only be a viable monetary item for demons.

At the same time, as Ghost King, Danny could own souls, but it makes him feel filthy. 🤢

Like, it makes him feel viscerally uncomfortable.

I do like the idea that if Danny 'owned' Constantine's soul, that he'd refuse to return it until he learned how to treat it right, though.

Literally, I think that Danny would try to get Jazz's help in creating a Soul-Seller's Rehab just for people like one John Constantine.

Also, because I think it'd be stupid to just give it back even after he does learn to give half a shit about himself & his well-being. Once John dies, he's basically the Biblical definition of a slave in that he will have to work off the claim & buy ownership of himself back.

However, he ONLY gets this chance because Constantine sold his soul in service of others (Unless I'm mistaken) & Danny understands the need to do whatever he can to save others.

But if he ever does it again, he's done! Danny ain't dealin' with it!

No take backs!

End of the line!

I also see this idea that Constantine is basically selling what amounts to slivers of his soul a lot, but I read another hc that seems more accurate. It suggests that what he's doing isn't giving away slivers of his soul, but actually giving away ownership of his whole soul to multiple beings & pitting them against each other so no one being can take it. This suggests that a soul isn't worth much unless it's whole & in tact.

I also really like this one hc I saw where someone whose sold their soul looks different to ghosts than other people. That they look inherently disturbing to them.

They described someone who's basically committed what amounts to soul tax fraud like Constantine as having a face that looks like a broken dish plate held together with blood seeping through the cracks.

It fosters an instinctive feeling of fear & disgust in ghosts.

For more, go to my full Ghost Zone Masterlist.

[snackleggg]

It wasn't hard, in that moment

~~~

Angsty one shot without a happy ending. Sometimes hate can blind you to the simplest things.

~~~

This couldn't be happening.

There was no way this was happening.

But the screen didn't change as Maddie and Jack Fenton stared at the news on their TV.

" -and with all this in mind the government has not only decided to revoke the Anti-ecto act but to also give ghosts and other ectoplasmic entities that fall under that category basic civil rights. The GIW and several other unethical ghost hunting organisations are being shut down as a result and the government will soon be moving onto the inspection of smaller groups and individuals that have shown excessive malice towards these beings-" The news reporter continued on but Maddie couldn't really listen to anything else they were saying.

She didn't think it would ever get this out of hand. At first it had been small things, the impressionable and naive children of Casper high supporting that menace Phantom. Then when word of ghosts being real spread to the rest of the world other groups supporting them and their rights as people started popping up.

Now the Anti-ecto laws were not only taken down but new laws protecting the scum were put up. How did this happen?

A growl escaped Maddie "Phantom".

Of course that evil menace had to be up to this. He and his ghost pals must have mind controlled government officials. Now Fenton works would undoubtedly be inspected and shut down considering the new Ectoplasmic Protection Act.

They had to work fast Maddie decided.

If they could destroy Phantom then whatever ghostly hold he had over the government would disappear and they would all come to their senses.

Maddie stood up and started stomping her way down the stairs. She didn't even notice Jack continuing to watch the news as they interviewed some ghosts on what they thought about the situation. She didn't even notice how Jazz was standing proudly at the top of the stairs or the suspicious look Jazz threw her way when she had left.

With her new urgency it wasn't hard for her to finish a project they had in the works for a while. Her and Jack had kept it top secret so that the scum couldn't somehow find out and destroy it like they did with some of their other brilliant inventions.

The Fenton Ghost Filter was about to get a test run on the local menace.

Unlike something like the Ghost Grabber or a Ghost Shield, the Ghost Filter didn't filter ghosts from an object or just force them away. It filtered them from existence. Separating all their ectoplasm down to the molecular bond, they would become nothing but air.

It wasn't hard to find the menace. He had just finished sucking another ghost into a Fenton Thermos, Maddie still couldn't figure out where he had got his hands on one. It wasn't hard to get his attention and expertly lie about her intentions, about seeing the news and understanding how wrong she had been, about how she wanted to speak to him and make a truce.

The words were bitter on her tongue and it took everything in her to keep her expression of friendliness up and not let any venom or disgust leak into her voice.

He was obviously still cautious when he approached her. He carried himself with the air of someone ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger. Of course Maddie would never give him that chance.

The moment he was in close enough where she knew she wouldn't miss she pulled out her newest invention. She saw the moment he realised what she was about to do, the moment he realised she had lied and the moment he realised that even with his speed he wouldn't be able to dodge in time.

Maddie saw the fear in Phantom's acid green eyes.

She smiled.

She was proud to be the cause of that fear.

She pulled the trigger.

Time seemed to slow down after Phantom collapsed. Not in the good way either.

It wasn't the same kind of slow as when she was about to shoot him, when she was savouring that moment, that victory.

At first it was caused by confusion.

Why hadn't he been torn apart instantly? Maybe she had gotten something wrong in her rush to finish it? Maybe a calculation had been off?

Then white rings appeared around Phantom's waist and travelled up his body.

She was tense. Was this a new power? A new attack? Thanks to those damn new laws it would be seen as self defense if he attacked her now.

Then when the rings of white light disappeared her son was left there on the ground. He was screaming.

Over the years Maddie had learned to ignore the screams of ghosts, they were all just ploys to gain her sympathy of the emotionless creatures. The screams of ghosts had become white noise to her, nothing more than a passing irritation.

But infront of her right now was not a ghost but her son. Her baby boy. He was screaming. He was in pain.

The mother in her wanted to run over to her boy right then and try and make him feel better, comfort him and make his pain stop.

The ghost hunter in her, the part of her that had been driving her every action up until that point, whispered in her ear how this was a trap. Phantom was trying to trick her like always, trying to gain her sympathy by making himself look like her son.

The two sides were at war, and so Maddie was frozen.

Then time seemed to snap back into gear, moving fast now like a rushing river.

Someone ran past her, towards Danny (Phantomphantomphantom). It took her a moment to realise it was Jazz. She was quickly followed by Danny's two friends, Sam and Tucker.

They were all panicking. All calling out to Danny, asking what was wrong, asking what happened and what they should do. Reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, though it sounded like they were trying to convince themselves just as much as they were trying to convince him.

The entire time Maddie could barely hear them over the screams, over her son's (Phantom's) screams.

Then it all stopped.

The screams cut off abruptly, like the plug being pulled from a TV.

Danny (Phantom that's Phantom it's Phantom) fell limp.

Sam was crying, Maddie had never seen her cry before. She was always such a strong girl.

Tucker seemed to be franctically looking for a plus, both on Danny's wrist and neck.

Jazz was-

Maddie felt like she had been slapped when she looked at Jazz.

Jazz was staring at her- no, glaring.

There was so much in that glare.

Jazz had always expressed a lot of emotion through her eyes, she could never really hide what she was feeling if you looked her in the eyes.

There was rage, and sadness and- what Maddie didn't want to admit looked like hatred. Unshed tears sat in the corners of her eyes as she glared at Maddie like she had just taken everything from her.

Then her eyes trailed back to Danny's (Phantom's) limp form.

He wasn't breathing. He was still, too still.

His eyes closed from when they had been screwed shut in pain.

Tucker was now also crying, he had stopping looking for a pulse.

Maddie felt bile rise to the back of her throat as she replayed the events in her head.

Maddie saw the fear in Phantom's acid green eyes. (She didn't need to try hard to imagine those same eyes as blue- sky blue like the day the baby in her arms opened his eyes and she swore to always protect him)

She smiled. (That's the last thing he saw, her smiling. Smiling because she was about to kill hurt him)

She was proud to be the cause of that fear. (She caused that fear. Her own baby was afraid of her, and she had been proud of that)

She pulled the trigger. (She pulled the trigger, she shot him, she hurt him, she killed him)

"Tragedy struck today as Amity park's local ghostly hero Phantom, whose identity was revealed to be Damiel Fenton, was killed by none other than Madeline Fenton. It has been a common fact in the town of Amity for many years that the adult Fentons have harboured a, at times, unreasonable hatred to ghostly entities. While not all the details are yet known, the broader strokes of the story are that after the government's public declaration of the Ectoplasmic Protection Act yesterday Madeline Fenton decided to act out to destroy Phantom who she and her husband had claimed to be a menace multiple times. Taking a, as of yet unidentified, weapon and lulling Phantom into a false sense of security around her before she shot him and subsequently killed him. When he died his identity was revealed to be that of her own son who, we are told, after an accident involving their prized invention, the ghost portal, became part ghost and took personal responsibility for making sure that Amity park was safe from those who wished to harm it. Madeline Fenton is being charged with first degree murder and there is currently much debate on whether Jasmine Fenton should be removed from Jack Fenton's custody-" The news reporter went on.

Jack couldn't focuse on the TV anymore. His sobs having grown too loud to be able to hear what was being said.

His wife was going to be sent to prison.

His daughter hated them both.

His son was dead.

His son had died nearly two years ago and they hadn't noticed. They hadn't questioned his strange behaviour, the falling grades, the breaking curfew. They hadn't seen their son when they looked at Phantom, hadn't recognised him.

Then his son died again, by their invention again.

He was a terrible father.

He was a terrible person.

[phantomrose96]

Flash in the Eyes

(So, I like this thing y’all are doing to save Flynn from Hartman’s hands)

Danny knew very little about his Aunt Alicia.

In his memories, she was a gruff and bitter woman, tall like an obelisk, sturdy like his mother was, and unyieldingly cold like his mother wasn’t. She was calloused in the hands, and the elbow, and the heart, and carried an earthy stench like hay and rainfall that reminded Danny too much of the one time he got lost in the woods. It was her face he remembered best, because in every young memory of his, her face was cast into a scowl of disgust that she seemed to reserve solely for his company.

Danny knew very little about his aunt – except that she hated him.

He kept this almost exclusively to himself, and internalized it the way that young children do – with the paralyzing fear that his aunt knew something despicable about him that Danny did not. He had tried just once to ask his mom why Aunt Alicia hated him, and his mother had waved and laughed. ‘That’s silly!’, she’d said, and she’d said it with such wide probing eyes, such a waver in her smile, that Danny understood she too must know the Despicable Thing about him.

Danny was 8 when he’d last seen his Aunt Alicia. The years since then had left his memories to bury and rot and grow brittle, like autumn leaves long sogged under snow, then dried in the spring sun, left as spider-webbed skeletons that crumbled at the touch. By the time he was 14, these memories were little more than a wisp.

By the time he was 14, Danny had new Despicable Things about himself to learn, the kind which well-overshadowed any old and forgotten memories. He knew now that he was a Freak, and a Loser, and a Cheat, and a Menace, and the Bringer of the World’s End, were he not careful.

At 14, when Danny saw his Aunt again, he’d long since forgotten that she was a thing for him to fear.

He was only staying the night, after a convoluted stunt from Jack left him, Jazz, and his parents all but stranded at Alicia’s until daybreak would allow them to wander the roads back into town and catch a bus back to civilization.

So Danny passed the evening the best he could – seated in one of Aunt Alicia’s rocking chairs, breathing in the cool earthy late-spring air, listening to cicadas and the strain and squeak of the rocker as he pressed his toes into the porch. He fixed his eyes to the clear night sky. The stars were so much clearer out here.

To his left, Alicia occupied the other chair, fingers busied with a knife that she whittled meticulously along the splintered edges of a block of wood.

“How old are you now?”

Danny startled at the address, and found his eyes had slipped shut. When had his eyes slipped shut? He blinked them to the sky, and glanced to the left. Alicia was staring at him.

“Oh, uh. 14 now.”

“Mmm,” Alicia answered. Knife point dug deeper into wood. “…Maddie’s got that portal of hers working, I’ve heard. Is that so?”

“Yeah. Oh. Uh-huh. Yeah her and dad. Their ghost portal—probably like—four months now, maybe? I uh, I don’t really know. I don’t uh… interact with it much.”

“…Have they been inside it?”

“Uh, no? I don’t think so.”

“Do they plan to?”

“Maybe. Uh. Probably. The specter speeder – it’s like this RV… space ship… thing… for going in the ghost zone. It’s something they built. So yeah uh, I guess, they probably do.”

Alicia lapsed silent. Her hands had stilled.

“Have you been inside?”

Danny tipped a little too far back in the rocking chair, and he felt it bottom out behind him. He wasn’t sure if the bottoming-out in his stomach was the chair, or the question – not that it mattered – since Danny responded only with a yelp and a pinwheeling of his arms. He was saved only by Alicia’s quick reflex, springing up and seizing the arm of the chair with her left hand – whittled bit of wood dropped to the porch.

“Thanks,” Danny breathed. And he looked up at his aunt.

And he remembered with an icy rush every single reason his 8 year old self had to be terrified.

Face cast deep into shadow from the porch lights behind her, Alicia’s bright green eyes watched him. Pinning, thin and probing, aggressively predatory in a way that reminded Danny all too much of ghost beasts. Her lip was curled up, exposing a few missing teeth, set upon that scowl that flashed through a dozen memories racing back to his mind. It was an expression that seemed intimately aware of every Despicable Thing there was to Danny. And with the tiniest flicker of his eyes, Danny focused on the whittling knife in her hand. Brandished.

Panic doused him, lit his every nerve on fire, and Danny fumbled for escape. He crashed down to the porch with a yelp, and his head cracked hard on the wood. Danny hissed, hand pressed to his head, and looked back up.

Alicia had backed off, surprise overtaking her hardened features. None of that flash of malice showed. The light fell normally on her, painting a slight gauntness to her face, but the arched brows, the parted mouth, and the startled eyes contained not a hint of danger. She glanced to the whittling knife in her hand, and dropped it on the porch, and raised both her hands palm-up.

“S-sorry! I startled you, huh? Just trying to catch the—” Alicia lost her voice. She was staring back into Danny’s eyes, and confusion evolved into something caught between horror and revulsion.

Danny blinked, and realized his world was tinged in green. His fight-or-flight had activated, his body was pulsing with adrenaline and ectoplasm, and he felt it all too late in the shimmer of his eyes, doused green. The scary eyes. He blinked it away. The damage was done.

…

When the Fentons packed their things and left the next morning, very few words were exchanged between Danny and Alicia.

The Fentons set out to follow the single dirt road back to the center of town. Danny looked back, and watched Alicia grow small in the distance, her and the house both, left alone, sealed back into the nothing-ness and the no one-ness. Danny found himself shivering at the memory of the previous night, and wondering even why Alicia had chosen to join him on the porch in the first place.

Maddie and Jack chatted about idle nothings. Jazz had occupied herself in pocket-sized book she’d managed to stow along on the trip. Danny only stared forward, and said nothing, and walked.

Danny knew very little about his Aunt Alicia – except that she hated him.

Danny knew very little, except that now, she feared him too.

Danny sat on the memory, reshaping it, wondering how he must have looked from the other side. What did his glowing green eyes look like to those he pinned with his gaze? What did she know now? What did she suspect? What reason did she have to look so afraid?

The last question sat uneasily with him. Danny carried himself forward on legs all but numb, and wondered whether he was something worth being feared after all.

[bubblegumbeech]

My first Phic Phight fic!

For @ecto-american’s prompt

His name was Danny.

That was the first thing he knew for sure was true, when he had first woken up it was what everyone called him, and it fit just fine, wasn’t something off or uncomfortable so he let it settle over him before he tried to speak.

His voice didn’t come at first, and it hurt to try so the nurses made him promise to take it easy for now, to sit back and listen. So he did.

He listened as the people around him spoke at length about how much they missed him, about how they couldn’t wait to get him home again, about how glad they were he’d survived.

The loudest and most talkative of the people that visited him and called him Danny, was a large man in an orange jumpsuit that went on long enthusiastic tangents that Danny had long stopped paying attention to. He was almost always with a smaller, authoritative woman named Maddie, who insisted He call her Mom. They told him they were his parents.

They told him they loved him.

And then they told him everything else.

The first time Danny remembered something it was with excitement, he was still in the hospital room and between the visits from the men in the starched white suits, his parents, and the doctor, he had been wrestling with the feeling that something was missing.

It had only been when Maddie had finally taken off the hood and goggles of her jumpsuit had Danny gotten a flash of familiar red hair and asked, “where’s Jazz?”

His heart buzzed at the question, sure, so sure that it would get answered, that he had remembered something.

But both Jack and Maddie had just looked at him, disappointed, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask again.

Eventually, once the doctor declared him competent and unlikely to slip back into his coma, his parents had taken him home.

There were streamers all over the house and a giant party banner that read “Welcome Back” in thick black lettering and Danny forced out a small smile as he looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Maddie walked up behind him and he flinched, his body acting before his brain could catch up.

She had frowned at his reaction, and when Danny, stuttering, tried to apologize she said it was okay, and with a tightlipped smile, she pulled him into a hug.

He forced himself to relax, frustrated with himself. This was his mother, there was no reason for his instincts to be so afraid. Jack had joined the hug and eventually Danny found himself relaxing for real, sure maybe getting his memories back was a slow uphill climb, but at least he wouldn’t do it alone.

Eventually his parents let him go and told him he was free to walk around the house and reacquaint himself with it. His room was the first door on the left upstairs, the bathroom was down the hall and the basement, apparently, was off limits.

So Danny went upstairs into his room. It looked something like a teenager’s room he supposed. There were the posters hung haphazardly on the walls and they were torn at the corners as if someone had ripped them all off the walls before hastily taping them back up. The bed was made too, and there was a lot less dust than he was expecting after being gone for a whole month.

In fact, it looked like he’d cleaned and organized the whole room before he’d fallen into his coma and Danny didn’t know why, but that thought set him on edge. Maybe he was just an organized person?

It was just… he didn’t feel very organized.

He kept looking around. There was that feeling that something was missing, something important to him, and he walked over to the nightstand by his bed. Placing a hand on the polished wood Danny fought the flash of a model spaceship that appeared in his memories. It wasn’t here though and Danny frowned. Was that something else he’d thrown away and simply forgotten?

Shaking his head Danny headed back downstairs, maybe he should just ask Jack, er, his dad? He should really get used to calling them mom and dad. But before he headed down he went to the room across from his and knocked.

Maybe he was being foolish, but he had expected someone to answer, had a name even come to mind. When no answer came he opened the door himself only to find a storage room, nothing but shelves and boxes and Danny scolded himself for the painful ache he felt in his heart.

It was another week before Danny had another memory, and just like the last two, it didn’t fit quite right. Like a piece from another puzzle jammed where it shouldn’t fit. So he’d asked Maddie.

“Sam?” she’d said, a carefully blank look on her face, “Oh! I remember Sam, she was an old friend of yours you used to talk about her all the time. Shame she moved away.”

And just like that, he’d had his answer as ill fitting as it was. Sam was a girl he knew that moved away, the memory he’d had, of her crying face screaming at him to stay awake just stay awake damnit, was probably from a long time ago. The pain he felt in his chest -just to the right of his heart- at the thought of her not being near and that he’d probably never see her again? That was nothing important.

It was another couple of weeks of sleeping in that house, waking up and going downstairs to eat with his parents, to chat about memories he didn’t have and tell stories he never resonated with, before he woke up screaming for the first time.

Maddie had instantly run into his room, Jack not far behind and Danny scrambled away from them both. His mind filled with images of painful green light and the ominous glint of red goggles twisting his reflection in their lenses as they looked down on him.

His parents had pushed past the barrier of pillows and blankets he’d made and pulled him into their arms, rocking him and shushing him until eventually he’d tired himself out from crying and fallen asleep again. The nightmares returned.

Eventually Danny stopped asking questions about his memories.

Either they were incomplete, fragments of something real that had been twisted in time, or they were wrong entirely, figments of his own active imagination. He’d never had a sister, they insisted. It was his mother, Maddie that had stayed up late some nights to help him with his homework and bake him safe, edible cookies as a reward. Tucker was a kid he knew at school, yes, but he’d moved away years ago and they hadn’t spoken in person since.

He had blue eyes, when he looked in the mirror, not green.

It was frustrating, being unable to trust himself- his own memories. If it was anything more than broken, incomplete fragments he’d have argued, insisted they were real.

But then again, he also had memories of Maddie leaning over him, scalpel in hand to cut away at his flesh. And he knew that couldn’t be true; the woman that smiled every time he came downstairs, called him sweetie and kissed him on his forehead every night, wasn’t the monster in his dreams. She couldn’t be.

So he ignored them.

He ignored the moments of instinct when Maddie or Jack went for a hug or a kiss and he flinched, ready for an attack. He ignored how he never seemed able to give a straight answer when they asked about his day, even if he hadn’t done anything interesting at all. And he ignored his nightmares, stuffing towels under his doorframe to muffle the sounds of his screams. There was no reason to keep waking up his parents like that.

But no matter how much he ignored, he compartmentalized, or he forced himself to smile, to hug back, and to spend time bonding with his parents, he never felt safe. Maddie insisted that he was, of course she did, this was his home. But even as he smiled and agreed and let her hug him again, he wanted to leave.

This time his dream wasn’t a nightmare. No scary, well lit labs with beakers and glowing buttons, or disgusting, painful flowers shoved into his mouth. Instead there was the ticking of clocks, rhythmic and constant. A gloved hand gently soothed his hair back, and Danny’s fear seemed so far away.

It was the first full night of sleep he’d had since he’d gotten “home”.

That morning he’d asked for an analogue clock. His parents had been confused, but they acquiesced easily and took him to the store to pick one out. The one he’d ended up choosing was a large ornate antique with little clockwork gears and a loud tick. He was excited to put it up in his room, right above his bed.

He slept better after that, and some of the tension that had been building in the house eased.

His dreams were still mostly nightmares, attacks by inhuman ghostly figures were the most prominent. But they didn’t leave the same bitter aftertaste, fear and uncertainty as the ones with the table, the scalpel, and the round, red goggles.

But now they were interspersed with better ones, fuzzy hugs and fields of blinding white, sitting in a garden pruning flowers as a soft, familiar voice gave him instructions, playing video games as the player character, confident and excited with a familiar presence at his back. And his favorite ones, the ones in the clock tower with the hooded figure and his soft smiles. The ones where he felt safest.

The ones that couldn’t be real, not if what his parents told him was true.

The next time they went out as a family after that Danny had wanted to go to a garden, and while at first Maddie was hesitant, Jack had insisted the great outdoors were perfect for helping him recover properly. Danny had been thrilled and hugged both of them in thanks, their answering smiles were soft and Danny had the thought that it had been some time since he’d seen those smiles reach their eyes.

Danny had a video game he apparently liked to play called Doom, and he was pretty good at it, judging by the level of his character. When he tried to message either of the two friends he had on his contact list though, the game glitched and his info got deleted. Frustrated he tried to reboot the system but the game itself had somehow gotten corrupted and there was no hope in recovery.

Just another thing that was apparently important to him that he’d destroyed or couldn’t find.

The worst was the time he woke with Maddie sitting next to him in his bed, she had a troubled look on her face and he didn’t know what it was he’d done wrong. Had he screamed in his sleep without knowing it?

“Danny honey,” she had said, looking over to him but not meeting his eyes, “do you remember what you dreamed about?”

He’d answered no, he hadn’t, which was mostly true. The only thing he really remembered about his dream was the feeling of safety and the ticking of a clock.

It took a month for Danny’s parents to feel comfortable leaving him alone in the house in order to go to work. He watched them walk out the door, fending off forehead kisses and muttered reassurances that they’d be home soon to check on him and that he should call if he needed anything, anything at all.

Once the door clicked shut however, the smile dropped off of Danny’s face and he set his eyes on the one thing he’d wanted… no, needed to do since he had that first nightmare.

He went to the basement.

The feeling of going down the stairs stumbled over a vague, blurry memory and Danny felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. This was just to be sure, just to prove to himself that all those dreams, all those nightmares he’d been having since his parents brought him home, were just that, nightmares.

He opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, confused when there was no lock, no resistance at all. Hadn’t they said he was banned from being down here? Why wouldn’t they lock it? Even Bluebeard locked the door his wife wasn’t supposed to enter.

The basement was…

A basement.

There were no spooky ominous beakers of strange and unrecognizable fluids, no haphazard lab equipment lying around without safety devices, nothing sterile or blinking and there was certainly no large metal table to strap someone down on.

It was just a normal basement with boxes and a desk, some chairs, a couple of old pieces of random furniture and Danny let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. This meant that Maddie was right, they really were just nightmares, probably some subconscious latent fear of going home with strangers that he couldn’t remember. That was all.

So why did he feel disappointed?

The next week was full of Danny waiting for his parents to leave before exploring the house more thoroughly. More than once he’d gotten caught in a half remembered routine that didn’t actually fit with his surroundings. Like bracing for a fight every time he opened the fridge, or expecting another flight of stairs after the second floor. Once he’d even risked going outside for a walk, trying to find his school based on half remembered directions that only served to get him lost.

It was a new routine that Danny found himself thankful for.

Not that he didn’t love his parents, he did! But for some reason, when they were gone, and it was just him with his space posters and his ornate ticking clock, and the piles of modified schoolwork that was supposed to help him when it was time to reintegrate into school, he felt a lot more relaxed. More carefree.

That was why, when he’d found the picture, it had felt like his world had crashed around him.

His parents had come home to find him sitting in the middle of the basement, tears long dried, and with the picture clutched tight in his hands, crumpled now with how long it had been.

“You lied to me.” he accused once they were within earshot. He didn’t have the energy to speak much louder than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence nonetheless.

“Danny-boy we can explain-”

“No!” Danny shouted, getting to his feet, “You lied to me .”

Jack flinched back and Maddie stepped in front of him, protective, as if somehow, out of the three of them Danny might be the threat. He growled.

“I trusted you to tell me the truth, I trusted you with my memories, memories that were lost to me . I had a sister! You had a daughter . She existed, she was real, she’s in this photo! Smiling! ” Danny couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, it was all too much. To know that the girl in his shattered memories, the one with the soft hugs and the floral scents, that baked him cookies and held him when he cried at night, was real. And that she was gone, erased by the people he was supposed to be able to trust.

He moved to storm past them, to go upstairs or maybe even outside and look up at the sky and try to make something of the twisting, knotted mess that was his emotions, his mind, his everything right now. But Maddie grabbed his arm before he could, tears spilling from her eyes.

“We didn’t want to hurt you Danny.” she said, voice soft and broken, “we didn’t want to give and then take away.”

She pulled him into a hug and Danny didn’t bother to struggle or try and break out of it, just let her cry into his shoulder as he stood there, waiting for his own tears to dry.

The next day Jack and Maddie left for work with more reluctance, neither one willing to leave Danny on his own again. But worry didn’t pay the bills and whatever it was they were doing at their job, it was clearly important. That was something Danny was starting to remember, all the things that were more important than him.

Danny went to the library this time, determined to start figuring things out on his own. His parents had said that his sister, Jazz, had died in the accident that had put him in a coma. They said they didn’t want to hurt him, or risk him not wanting to recover his memories if they were painful and that grief was difficult to deal with even without the head trauma and emotional conflict.

His parents said a lot of things, Danny was starting to realize. And almost none of it could be trusted to be true.

The first thing he did was look for a death certificate for his sister, Jazz Fenton. After hours of searching, reading every single name that existed in every obituary for this town in the entire month when his parents claimed the accident had happened.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

So next he looked up phone records. Any Tuckers or Samanthas he could find, but he couldn’t remember their last names at all, just what they looked like.

How they had been crying over him.

He didn’t know if he believed that they’d just moved away. Then again, it was becoming increasingly clear that he didn’t know what to believe, if he believed anything at all. By the time he’d gotten home it was late, and his parents were already there.

At first they didn’t believe he was just at the library “trying to catch up on stuff” but they calmed back down once he’d shown them his library card and snapped that if he couldn’t even do that much why did they bother bringing him back from the hospital at all.

Dinner had been a quiet affair.

It took another week of library visits and recurring nightmares of dissection tables and glowing ghostly figures that attacked him before Danny gave up on finding out anything about Sam or Tucker. But he still didn’t stop searching for Jazz.

There was something almost obsessive about his search for her, he just couldn’t let it go. He had to know where she was, and if his parents, against all odds, hadn’t lied to him about that ... Well that was something he’d have to come to terms with when he came to it, not before.

He started scouring the Internet for her name desperate to find something, anything on her. And eventually he did.

There was an old article, from at least half a decade ago, that had her picture under the title “Four Teens go Missing in wake of Fenton Investigation”.

Next to her were two equally familiar pictures. Sam and Tucker… and then Danny himself.

Scrolling, desperate to find something, anything to add up the memories he was getting into a clear picture, he began to read the article.

In wake of the Investigation into the Fenton‘s possible abuse, Danny Fenton (15), his sister Jazz Fenton (17), and two friends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley (15), have seemingly disappeared.

The discovery came shortly after Jack and Madeline Fenton were released on parol and allowed to return home to spend time with their children since no physical proof could be found of any alleged wrongdoings.

What could have caused their disappearances remains a mystery. The prevailing theory is that they were involved in a cult that may have demonized the Fenton parents due to their controversial occupation as “ghost hunters”. Another popular theory is that the children fled the results of the case, afraid of the alleged illegal experimentation. Other theories include kidnapping, witness protection, the possibility of murder, and tying up loose ends.

Will we ever discover the truth? It remains to be seen.

Ghost hunters …

Danny felt his stomach drop, a wave of nausea rolled through him and he had to fight off the urge to relive his lunch.

Experimentation?

Nightmares and half remembered memories started clicking into place, finally , and Danny couldn’t stand it. Why were the only answers that made sense the ones that hurt the worst?

Would it have been better if he’d just let it go? If his memories never returned at all? If he just kept living, eating homemade cookies and flinching from hugs until eventually the itch underneath his skin dulled and he could just be happy as he was.

He closed the tab.

There was no one home when he got there, and it gave him the chance to pack what little belongings he had that held any meaning to him at all. The motions were familiar and he had the faintest feeling he had done exactly this before.

Maybe he had.

He’d made it out the front door by the time his parents pulled into the drive.

There was the urge to run, to go back inside and hide and pretend he hadn’t been doing exactly what they caught him doing. But he was tired. He was so tired of feeling wrong and scared and uncertain and never knowing why.

So he held his head up as they got into the car and approached them with their hands raised, cautiously, like he was a wild animal they were afraid of spooking.

Was that what they thought he was?

“Danny, we can talk about this,” Maddie said, beseeching.

He met her eyes with his own. “Will you promise not to lie anymore? I don’t even know how old I am-”

“You’re fifteen son-” Jack interrupted, lying again.

“I was fifteen five years ago!” Danny yelled, his hand tightening into a fist, “I found the article! I read about the case! Five years ago.”

“Danno…”

Oh, he was crying. It was novel almost, Danny had thought he was too tired to cry, that there wasn’t anything more that could hurt him enough to create such a response and he didn’t quite know how to react to it.

He raised his hands awkwardly to scrub the tears away and stepped back, frightened, when Maddie tried to move closer to comfort him.

“Stay back! Stay back…” he looked at his hands, they were young hands, his reflection too, hadn’t changed from the picture in the article at all. Experiments. “What did you do to me?”

“It was an accident.” Jack said, before Maddie stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“We didn’t know Danny. How could we have?” She said, keeping her distance, cautious. “We tried to fix it-”

“Fix what? ” He hissed, “you haven’t told me what happened! You haven’t told me anything!”

“You!” Maddie finally snapped, tears falling heavy down her cheeks. “We were trying to fix you… but it wasn’t working and you just kept getting sicker… weaker… we had to stop.”

It was too much for her, and she turned away, leaning into Jack’s large frame as he comforted her. “We didn’t want to lose you, Danny.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You already did.”

Danny left his parents there, crying on the driveway of a house that could never have been a home. He had a clock tower to find.

[datawyrms]

Half a Decade Late

Valerie was finally promoted to the main headquarters of the Guys in White. There she finally comes face to face with Phantom, who disappeared five years ago, locked in a cell. For Phic Phight 2021, @lexosaurus' prompt!

Nothing proved ’harder workers get ahead’ was only a capitalist lie than the absolute hassle getting promotions within the GIW. Of course she’d gone right to them for employment, it was the only organization large enough to actually pay people that took her resume of ghost hunting seriously. She had experience, actual knowledge and even her own gear but had still spent years getting jerked around to various small operations, basically just using her to train all their useless recruits while still just considering her a ‘fellow’ field agent. It wasn’t like she had the option to quit in protest, no one else was in the market for ghost hunters. As far as most people knew ‘ghost intelligence’ was just a joke cover story that the agents were very attached to. They didn’t want any more Amity Parks, so if she wanted to live somewhere new and still do her job...these guys were it. She’d been very clear, she wanted to be in the main office, where everything happened. That didn’t stop them from constantly assigning her literally anywhere but the actual headquarters. Maybe they finally ran out of other places, she still half expected to get stopped at the door and be told about a new field mission they absolutely needed her on immediately. It didn’t happen. Valerie Grey finally got to clock in as an Ecto Containment Officer at the main branch. Where they kept the strongest creatures, developed the new anti-ghost equipment and did more than just splattering a ghost down to nothing. Sure, she liked a good ghost obliterating, but it got boring after a while. There were only so many ways a ghost could beg for it’s useless afterlife before it became white noise. It didn’t stop any new ones from showing up, or tell her anything new. Just got rid of one pest, permanently. That wouldn’t help explain some ghosts, the powerful ones that showed up again and again. It wouldn’t explain the one that stopped showing up either. There was no way that life ruining ghost just got ‘bored’ and vanished without notice. It was still out there, plotting something. She just knew it in her bones. She had to be ready for it. There were traces of that ghost, hints of his ectosignature that she came across in the field, he was still out there. The GIW was just a means to an end, she didn’t trust them to be ready alone.

Sterile corridors and simplistic signs were expected, but even the break area was doing its best impression of a frozen tundra. Fantastic for morale? Probably not. Made the coffee pot easy to spot, at least. Even if she preferred to avoid the stuff in uniform. It stained too easily, and just made her wish for her red battle suit. She took a cup to at least have an excuse for her scoping out the place, she could pass it off to someone once she got to the containment area. A quick double check that everything was in place at the mirror before heading right back out to the winding halls. She wasn’t going to be late, she didn’t have time for that. Maybe a red tie was against protocol, but no one had been stupid enough to bother her about it yet. Judging from the deferential nods from her latest coworkers, that wouldn’t be changing. No one who worked here couldn’t know who she was. The only Ghost Hunter who got out of Amity Park without getting corrupted by the ectoplasmic monsters. It was a shame, Jack and Maddie Fenton used to be a serious force for humanity. Five years ago they suddenly flipped the script, denouncing their work and calling for peace with unreasonable fiends. Their daughter Jazz likely had something to do with it, but Valerie had her own theories. Danny, her friend and once boyfriend had gone missing around that time. Leverage to ensure the Fenton’s ‘good behaviour?’ The whole thing reeked of ghosts. To think she might have gone the same way. Back then she was actually listening to the pest, starting to really consider them a ‘good’ ghost. Like that was actually possible, when he’d just been playing to emotion and her own desire to give up in fighting a dangerous foe over and over. So much for that. That monster showed it’s true colours, sure enough. Something the GIW never bothered to look into, even as she wrote report after report about the incident, how unlikely it was for the Fentons of all people to change that drastically without constant possession. Not worth the resources, even when it was easy to see what tech was built on the foundations the couple had laid. They were throwing away so much to focus on little outbreaks of ghosts instead of making more of a lasting change. Stupid. That was what the funding was ‘meant’ to go towards, as if helping the Fentons would be less productive than making a slightly different ectogun.

She almost hoped there would be a problem, just to prove this is where she should have always been.Even if it seemed distinctly unlikely. She had to swipe to get into the lab, then yet again to actually get to the cells. Or the ‘vault’, as if the higher ups wanted to pretend the creatures in there were inert materials instead of cunning and dangerous beings. Even though they had someone posted at each door, and someone on guard inside as well, herself today. To get acquainted with the place mostly, she had more than enough training on ‘proper handling’ procedures.

“Hey, you can swap with me today, if you want.”

Valerie blinked, eyebrow already raised at the posted guard’s suggestion. “I can handle watching caged ghosts.”

They had the sense to look embarrassed, taking their hand away from the oversized ectogun to loosen their tie- which was tied rather poorly now that she got a better look at it. “I’m sure you can, it’s just, well.” They wouldn’t stop fidgeting with their tie now, eyes checking that no one was really paying attention to the guards. “H0G02 is awake today. No one likes those days.”

“Then all the more reason to get used to it early.” She didn’t give them time to sputter another excuse, swiping her card and striding past without another look. As if people should be worried about a captive ghost being awake. Maybe some of the people here never got a spine before joining up.

It wasn’t as cold as she expected it to be. Or as dark. It was actually brighter, thanks to the extra row of fluorescent lights. On some level she expected the room to reflect the monsters kept here, a shadowy icebox of a space. Of course it wasn’t. These were defeated creatures under human control, of course their cages would be bright and clean, the air warmed for human comfort. The ghosts might not like it, but why care what they wanted? It wasn’t like there were many to begin with, mostly green oversized vermin with blank red eyes. Most had the sense to cower back as she walked past, but a fair few didn’t even twitch. Calling a ghost of all things lifeless was foolish, but it was the only word coming to mind...she had to focus. She didn’t pity these things. Why so many creatures though? The real dangerous ones, the most monstrous ones were the ones that could play human, the ones that had conniving minds that only worked to cause destruction and terror. These were just feral things, annoying but hardly more impressive than a coyote when you knew what to do. Half of them she’d barely rate above ‘feral cat’. A light near the back flickered. Strange. When it flickered a second time she was already releasing her helmet to pull it on. Not nearly as easy as just willing it on, but at least she could carry it in a pocket without needing to rely on some ghost’s power. Three steps and her gun was ready, not that she expected to need it. Really, she worked on autopilot, legs still moving as she stared at the largest glass cage at the back of the room. Or more accurately, at what was in it.

“Oh, newbie. ‘Sup.” The ghost rasped out, blank green eyes watching the ghost hunter. A teenaged boy with a shock of white hair, a black jumpsuit, but the voice of a seventy year old chain smoker. Just sitting in a painfully bright cell, watching. Not exactly as she remembered him, but close enough.

“You.” The disgust was easy to voice, even as her brain struggled to catch up. He was here? Looking practically exactly as he had when she was still a soft hearted freelancer?

He only gave a sputtering laugh at the aggression. “Me? You’re not that mad about the light, are you? I’m bored, Tie.”

“What are you doing here?” That wasn’t the important question really, she should be more concerned that he apparently was able to manipulate light fixtures from his cell...but she’d been hunting after this ghost for five years. Protocol could go shove itself up the director’s ass.

“Same thing I do every day Tie, being some government property!” His laugh was wrong, not from amusement like she remembered. A desperate cackle that didn’t fool anyone. “You new enough to still have your soul in there?”

“Answer the question, Phantom.”

The smirk slid off the ghost’s face. “Wh’ad you call me? Like I’m only calling you Tie cus the red sticks out, I can call you Shooty if you don’t like it, newbie.”

The response made her insides run cold. It had to be Phantom, and the terrible sense of humour was just like him- but the ghost wasn’t quite right. What was this? It couldn’t be some copy of the ghost kid, could it? “I called you by your name, ghost.”

“Never heard of em.” The ghost crossed his legs and looked away, apparently bored of the person holding a weapon. “What day is it?”

Surely he was playing around. “What do you think your name is, then?”

He didn’t take his attention off the ceiling, looking more bored than anything.“Day first, Tie. Gotta know how much of a head start I’ve got.”

“Like you’re in any position to bargain.”

“Hm? Whatcha gonna do Tie? Let me be unconscious for a few hours? Scary. Day first.”

There was the Phantom she knew, snide and sarcastic when he really had no business being so. “I could do worse than that.”

“Doubt it. You gun grunts gotta listen to the freaks out there, remember?” His shoulders shook with a silent laughter, but it looked more like spasms. “No more mishandling the goods, yeah? Day Tie, comeonnnnnn”

Since when was he so interested in the calendar? Not to mention how weird it was how he kept referring to himself...and pretending he didn’t know his name. “It’s Monday.”

That got his attention, the casual rocking halting as he looked at her again, disturbingly still. “Monday, really?”

“Lying is your thing, not mine.”

He grinned. “I like you Tie, so you’ll probably be fired in like a week. Maybe it’s the red.” The tension left the ghost completely, she hadn’t even noticed how stiffly he’d been sitting until his spine relaxed as his elbows rested on his legs. “Pretty sure I’m H0G02. Least that’s what all your creeps call me.”

There was no way Phantom of all ghosts would call himself ‘H0G02’. He had to be a mimic of some sort, a ghost that modelled himself on the once well known Amity Park menace. “You like me because I told you it was Monday? Seriously?”

“I like the Mondays more than you, if that helps.”

“Not particularly.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” He was watching her again, more curious than anything. She shouldn’t be glad to see a spark of something in those eyes, but he was far less creepy this way.

“What’s so great about Monday? You’re a ghost.” She didn’t really care. She should be asking important questions. She was just...playing along to see if it really was Phantom. That didn’t stop her for being grateful for the helmet.

“Monday is the farthest day away from Friday.”

“Wouldn’t that be Saturday?”

“It hasn’t been Saturday or Sunday for...like four years? Those days don’t exist, I think you humans made ‘em up to prank me.” Phantom shrugged, sounding completely serious. Not even a hint of amusement or a grin. “Pretty good one, all you new guys keep it up.”

He was going to be completely useless if he kept saying nonsense. How could he be useful in finding out what happened to the Fenton’s son if he couldn’t even talk about the days of the week sensibly? “Fine, what’s so bad about Friday then.”

“Ohhhhh, you’re really new, Tie.” the ghost flopped onto his side, bored of sitting up apparently. “You know, the day they keep me around for? That day.” He wasn’t quite still, his right shoulder moving very, very carefully. Hiding something.

She didn’t have the patience for this.“What are you hiding there.”

“Tie has good eyes. Gotta remember that.” Phantom muttered, getting onto his back, a blue shard of ice melting off his arm.

“You don’t really think that some ice would help you out of there?”

“Out?” He looked mystified by the suggestion, but that could more be seeing his face upside down. “That glass doesn’t break for anything, I should know.”

Which didn’t explain why he’d been trying to hide the fact he’d made ice at all. He knew it too, but apparently playing stupid was still one of his favourite tactics. “Knock it off and just answer me.”

Phantom’s frown didn’t change, green eyes staring intently at her helmet as if hoping to see through it. “I could show you why?”

It didn’t sound like a threat. “Sure, why not. It’s gonna be a long day.” If it was? Then she’d show him that she wasn’t someone he could mess with.

Ice wrapped itself around the ghost’s lower arm alarmingly quick, a wickedly sharp blade of ice with serrated teeth jutting from the scrawny arm at an awkward angle. It was practised, something this ghost must have done often in all the time he’d been gone from her life. Yet it was so different from how Phantom usually chose to fight. That was a weapon to tear and maim, not to shock, stun or bruise. It looked wrong on him. The idea that this ghost wasn’t Phantom at all only grew more credible with that thing on his arm, even if ice powers were to be expected. His eyes flicked back to green, still fixated on her as he lifted the arm and stabbed down hard. Right into his other arm. Didn’t even blink.

“What are you doing!” She couldn’t remember the last time Phantom had ever been frightening on some primal level. This- with the disturbing snap of bone as the edges of the blade caught and tore made her hair stand on end. “Stop that, Phantom. What’s wrong with you!?”

“Cancelling Friday.” Phantom was laughing as the blade melted away into the pool of green rapidly spreading from his self inflicted wound. “I said you’d probably get fired Tie.”

“Forget Friday you idiot, cover the wound so you stop splattering everywhere!” He was just a ghost-a ghost messing with her. A ghost she’d fought with and had heard scream in pain. This...thing wasn’t him. Her heart didn’t care what her mind thought, insisting he needed help.

The ghost sat up, his left arm holding on by a shred of his suit before splattering into the puddle, but the left behind stump stopped dripping almost as quickly as he’d lost the limb. “Aw. Maybe Tie does have some soul left. You actually sound worried.”

“Of course I am! You slashed your arm off!”

“So?”

He didn’t seem to be in pain. If it wasn’t for the mess of green and the lack of a limb, she’d almost say she imagined it. Why did she care? “You wouldn’t do this sort of thing.”

“Uh. Yes I would? You just saw me do it. I’m down for an encore.”

The idea just made her feel ill. “Don’t.” Did she want this to be Phantom or not? “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Well I’m down an arm. So the coats are going to be very whiny about how much ectoplasm they can get out of me.”

“You must have felt that.”

“Sure. Isn’t nearly as bad as when they start ripping as much ectoplasm as they can out of you. Every single Friday.” He actually rolled his eyes, like she should just know this.

Why did they bother keeping Phantom around if they just wanted ectoplasm? He might be strong, but no ghost had limitless amounts. They’d just fall apart and stop existing. That’s why the weakest ones never even left the Ghost Zone, they couldn’t survive without constantly being around the stuff! “What makes you so special then? Not your attitude.”

“I’m just lucky enough to make my own ectoplasm. Who knew food was easier to get then high grade ectoplasm? Not me.” His remaining arm pointed to her weapon, his smile stretching. “Bet ya your weapon’s fully powered from Fridays. Yours and every other thing they use in this hellhole.”

“Ghosts can’t do that.” The lie was absurd. It went against everything they knew about ghosts, even before food entered the equation.

“Y’know, Tie. I think I knew a ghost hunter that wore red once.” the ghost’s eyes went unfocused, unmoving as he looked listlessly into space. “It’s a good colour.”

“You knew me. Quit fooling around with this not remembering crap.” Valerie threw her helmet aside, no longer caring. She had to know who this ghost really was. She had to know if everything he was blathering about was a lie. So what if it wasn’t ‘safe’.

His eyes didn’t change. “Y’know how hard it is to remake a brain? Cut me some slack Tie…”

“I mean it. Look at me Phantom. If you’re the ghost I know, you can stop pretending to be something else.”

“You lose the details. Arms and legs are easy. The brain though? Way too hard.” He kept rambling to himself, not reacting even as she put a hand to the glass to get his attention. “Y’know how many times they’ve cut it open? I don’t. I lose track after like. Eleven. Maybe. Pointy Shoe said my best was fifteen but I sure don’t remember that.”

She wanted him to just stop talking. She wanted this ghost to be some strange creature she didn’t know. To not have the only possible link to someone long lost a shattered husk. “Phantom. Do you remember the hunter in red’s name?”

He finally blinked. “I’m not this Phantom guy, Tie.”

“Okay, whatever, forget that part. The ghost hunter in red, what do you remember?” She insisted, knocking again in hopes it would keep the ghost’s focus.

“Wish I’d told em something.” he held up his gloved hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t remember what that something was, don’t ask.”

So he was Phantom? He couldn’t be. That was so non-specific it could be anything. “You never explained how you’re the only ghost that can make their own ectoplasm.”

“It’s in my name Tie! Come on. Thought you guys were smart or whatever.” He did a very awkward one armed attempt at crossing it, eyebrow raised. “The H? The feeding a ghost food thing?”

She didn’t really get the whole naming scheme they used here. The fact it mattered wasn’t making her gut unclench either. “What about the H?

“Hybrid? Might have been Human. That might have been a joke.”

Valarie’s mouth was drier than any desert when he said it that easily, that casualty while kicking his own arm aside. “You’re saying you aren’t all ghost.”

“Yup. Not yet! Trust me, I’ve tried,” the bubbly high pitched laugher clawed out of the ghost at that. “I tried so much. Guess it’s another thing I’m a failure at, eh Tie?”

Something told her not to ask. She had to know. Five years she waited, five years apparently knocked Phantom clear from reality.“Does Danny Fenton mean anything to you?”

He just laughed harder at the question. “Really Tie?”

“Yes, really.”

“That’s the name I scream at em. Don’t know why. Feels good though.”

“Is it your name?” Had he had contact with Danny? Been part of whatever made him go missing from everyone’s lives? He couldn’t be, there was no way.

“They get reallllll angry when I say it is.”

There was no way the GIW had a human captive for five years. There was no way Phantom could be the Danny she knew. The ghost was just lying. He had to be, she desperately needed him to be. “Were you fused with a human or something? Got stuck when possessing someone?”

“Nah. Been like this before I got here, pretty sure. You can check your fancy gear though. There’s some non-ghost DNA in it. Lucky lucky me,” he lay back down in the mess of ectoplasm, ignoring how it clung to his hair. “Thanks for the Friday off! I hate those.”

There was no reason to need air. Talking to a ghost she didn’t even like shouldn’t make her feel like she was being crushed under a boulder. Panting for air, outside the room would make her look pathetic and weak, but she needed the space, needed to be away from that...mockery of a ghost.

“He does that to everyone. He’ll repeat the whole thing in a week or so, but he’s a really good copy the first time you see it.” The guard gave a comforting word, apparently unsurprised by her sudden unscheduled departure.

Oh, there would be no ‘next time.’ Not if he was right about her weapon. But she nodded instead, letting her ‘coworker’ think she was just overwhelmed. Even if all she could think of was how many ways this place would burn if that ghost- that thing had been a human once. She was good at telling when ghosts lied. Phantom didn’t sound like he had. No matter how much she tried to convince herself he did.

[sansxfuckyou]

Can we talk about something else?

Four people sat at the table me, Jazz and Vlad, guess that's three people, but 'dad' will be sitting down soon enough anyways, he just always slacks off, was he always like this?

Probably.

"Honey" Mom started as she opened the fridge, the creak grounding me back in reality.

"Yeah mom?" I asked gently, lifting my head from the table and looking over at mom, she had a carton of orange juice in hand, or maybe mango juice.

"Do you think we could talk about what you remember tonight?" She asked as she pulled down a few glasses, filling each cup around halfway full.

"Yeah sure, why not." I answered with as mom slid me a cup of juice, I took a sip, mango flavor, worse than I imagined, but, I might as well finish the cup, can't have mom get worried that I'm not eating enough.

"What's wrong bro?" Jazz asked, her eyes locked on me, probably staring in disgust at these stitches and mismatched clothing, no, Jazz, Jazz doesn't hate me, she's my sister, she wouldn't hate me.

Right?

"Nothing, just feel twisted inside, probably just hungry." I said looking down at myself, the stitches, I despise them, sure they are important, but still, they reflect... Something bad that happened that I can't remember and no one wants to talk about.

The snow white emblem on my chest seemed to stare back at me in shame. The white boot and black latex on most of my left leg looked out of place next to the jean and red shoe on my right leg. The white gloves on my hands, the left side had human fingers showing.

The black latex on my right arm that transitioned to my glove looked better than my other arm that had a short white sleeve with a red cuff and skin visible till my wrist where I was stitched together with my glove.

I'm a monstrosity of nature.

A disaster.

A failure.

A mistake.

"Littler badger are you ok?" Vlad asked, I snapped up, tears on my face, guess I started crying. I wiped the tears from my face and nodded before noticing 'dad' had taken a seat parallel to me.

"Y-Yeah, I just got caught up in my thoughts." I said with a light sniffle before mom sat down next to Jazz, everyone on the other side of the table, guess that they can't even sit next to me without being disgusted.

Oh, ectoplasm is leaking from my stitches again, guess I might've gotten stressed or something like that to raise my heartrate that much.

"What do you want to talk about son?" Dad asked, cautiously a plate of coleslaw and chicken in front of me with a glass of water, three quarters full, I think.

"I, can I go back to school?" I asked, everyone tensed at the question, Vlad seemed the most unfazed at the suggestion.

"Why would you want to go back to school honey?" Mom asked, voice still sweet and even, but wavering ever so slightly.

"I don't know, my friends go to school and their fine, I might be able to be me again if I go back." I said to try and sway them to my side.

"We can look into getting you back in school, but you need some new clothing, and a name." Mom said, I can do new clothing, but a name, what kind of name would I even have now, I mean, I'm an abomination, do I even deserve a name?

Yeah, I deserve a name.

I deserve respect of my choices as well.

"Well, I can find a hoodie to wear, but pants, I don't know about pants what I have can work," I said, dad seemed happy, he always does, Jazz looked slightly unsure, but she would help me, mom looked like she was proud of me in some twisted manner. "I can't find a name though, I used to be Fenton, or was I Danny, maybe I was Phantom."

"You were all of them." Vlad said simply, well that makes thing easy to deal with, I had three identities, or only two, cause Fenton and Phantom sound like last names while Danny sounds like a first name.

"Which name sounds best?" Jazz asked before she took a sip of her mango juice, gross.

"Can I, can I go by Fantom, with an f?" I asked cautiously, Jazz seemed ok with the name, Vlad looked ok with the name, mom looked like she could handle the name, and dad, dad seemed unsure of my name.

"I don't know son, maybe just Danny will do." Dad offered.

"Jack, I know I was your son, I know I still am your son, but, I don't think Danny is a fitting name for me anymore," I explained. "I'm an amalgamation of a ghost and human, one of which was your son, or both of them were your son, but, now I'm both at once, not two different identities, just one singular person, Fantom."

"But-"

"Jack, I would like some respect for my choices, I think I'm around fourteen, and I, I deserve respect in my choices." I said forcefully, pointing a fork at dad who flinched before easing up a bit.

"Fine." He said with a sigh.

"Thank you." I said with a light sigh as I took a bite of coleslaw, the taste, vinegar, I spat out the bite slowly, something about the taste sent off red flags.

"Something wrong with the food Fantom?" Vlad asked, noticing that I had a problem with the taste.

"Yeah, vinegar doesn't really sit well with me, don't know why, but, the taste just sets off red flags," I explained. "Can I, can I have a peanut butter sandwich or something?"

"Sure, just gimme a minute or two." Jazz said as she got up and pulled down some peanut butter and bread.

"Thanks Jazz, I can always count on you."

[five-rivers]

Loved chapter 4

Written for Dannymay 2021 Day 3: Portal, even though the connection is sort of tenuous.

.

Bad things happened when Vlad came to Amity Park. For that matter, bad things happened wherever Vlad was. It was part of what made Vlad Vlad. Some part of his otherness, some twist of the shadow-fabric he was made of that left rot and ruin wherever his hem brushed. Of course, Vlad was never affected by this misfortune. In fact, he seemed to suck the luck out of everyone around him. Like a vampire.

Along with sanity. But that was a given for the others, even partial others, like Vlad. Or Danny.

But Vlad didn’t even try to hide or ameliorate the effects he had on people, didn’t try to keep them safe, to make their lives shine like the precious lights they were.

(Danny drummed his fingers on his chest and wondered, if, perhaps, it would feel less empty if Clockwork let him become a jewel box.)

But that was the way Vlad was, and Danny felt him enter Amity Park like nails on a chalkboard. His skin started to itch. His teeth hurt. Pressure pulsed in his head like waves of heat coming off asphalt. Being human, being real, was too tight, too heavy. It would be so easy to slip into the cool waters of the Dream and cut through them to wherever Vlad was.

No. He couldn’t. As shown time and time again, that would just exacerbate things. No matter what Vlad did, it would be worse if they fought, especially if there was anyone there to see it. Like what had happened with Jazz…

Danny was beyond lucky he’d been able to snap her out of whatever Vlad had done to her, but she still was quite right. The Vultures had actually apologized on Vlad’s behalf, after that.

(And wasn’t that strange, standing in the Dream on ground covered by bones and feathers, the Vultures on a dead tree, speaking as one. A thing of terror, apologizing for their ward. For pain suffered through Love. For lines crossed.)

Still. He had better… supervise Vlad, for a lack of a better word. Make sure he wasn’t getting up to anything. He’d go as a human – as himself.

He sighed and splayed his hands out on the table.

“Something wrong?” asked Sam, who had been making a complex sigil out of her fries and ketchup.

“Vlad’s in town,” said Danny. “I—”

The doors to the Nasty Burger were thrown open with a bang as Jazz came running in. She ran halfway through the store, to weak protests from the employee behind the counter, and skidded to a stop in front of their table.

“Vlad’s here,” he said.

“You saw him?” asked Danny, concerned. “Did he try—”

“No,” said Jazz. “I can just—It’s like he’s under my skin, and I—” She made a sound of frustration and gripped both sides of her head with clawed hands.

“Hey,” said Danny, gently, grasping her wrists. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay,” said Jazz, breathing deeply. “Alright. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.”

“It’s okay,” said Danny. He looked back to his friends. “Anyway, I’m going to go see what he wants, okay?”

“I’m coming with you,” said Sam, standing.

“Me too,” said Tucker. “Sort of. Halfway.”

“You really shouldn’t,” said Danny. “You know what happens when we get together.”

“Which is why we want to back you up,” said Sam. “As long as he stays physical, there’s stuff we can do.”

Unless Danny was prepared to do something incredibly inadvisable, there wasn’t much he could do to stop her. “Okay,” he said. “Just… be careful. If it looks like it’s going to turn into a fight, you need to leave.” He didn’t want them to get anymore spiritually messed up than they already were.

“We know, we know, you give us the spiel every time,” said Sam.

Yes, and Sam ignored it every other time. Danny shook his head. “Alright, let’s—”

Danny was promptly interrupted yet again, this time by his parents rushing in wearing… He could loosely call them clothes.

“It’s retro night, baby!” shouted Jack.

It was not retro night. There was no such thing as retro night at the Nasty Burger.

“I’ll take care of them,” said Jazz.

“Thanks,” muttered Danny, sliding out of the booth. “Come on, let’s go out the back.”

The alley behind the Nasty Burger was fetid in a way that made Danny’s shadow lift from the pavement and float on the air. Something that inhabited rats skittered in the corners at Danny’s presence and ran for a storm drain. He breathed shallowly.

“Which way?” prompted Tucker.

“He’s actually coming this way,” said Danny, frowning, debating facing him in this alley, just to see the disgust that would surely paint itself on Vlad’s face, paper-thin mask that it was.

Reality rippled, the surface tension that kept the Dream from bleeding in snapping. A miasma rose from the ground. Vlad stumbled into the alley, clutching at his face, which was melting. No, transforming. No, stretching. No, layering over itself a in dozen sickening ways, all the masks Vlad wore flickering over whatever truth he had all at once.

“Help me,” he grated. His words felt sick, diseased.

“Guys,” said Danny, fighting back the urge to vomit, “run.”

“No!” shrieked Vlad. “Help me!”

And sanity fractured like glass.

.

Whatever Danny’s parents had done to stabilize Vlad had worked, to a degree. It hadn’t fixed the underlying problem, which Danny could still feel slinking through the Dream. It also didn’t fix whatever he’d done to Sam and Tucker, although it had kept it from progressing further.

Danny took a slow, angry breath and ran a mental count of the lives stored inside his chest. They were there, all of them. Whatever happened to Sam and Tucker, they wouldn’t die.

But Danny knew there were fates worse than death.

His fingernails left half moon impressions on his palms as he clenched his fists. The Dream roiled with his fury, the force of it enough to keep Vlad’s diseased thoughts away.

“Daniel,” croaked Vlad. “Cure me.”

“That’s what Mom and Dad are trying to do.”

“Find a cure for me,” said Vlad, as if he hadn’t heard Danny at all, “and you’ll find a cure for your precious little friends.”

Danny stilled. “You did this on purpose.”

Vlad laughed. “Of course, I did, my dear boy. What value is a simple human mind compared to those such as we?”

Any rage Danny had felt up to this moment paled in comparison. The mirror over the sink cracked down the middle, never to show a true physical reflection again. He hated—

A concerned tug at Danny’s throat jolted him from his thoughts. Clockwork. Clockwork would know what to do. He turned, and without a second glance at Vlad, strode bodily into the Dream.

.

It took Danny even less time than usual to find Clockwork, and, when he did, he immediately found himself at Clockwork’s center, deep within the castle that was his metaphor. Dozens of Chains were fixed to Danny’s collar, each of them completely taut, holding him perfectly immobile, the embrace of a relieved but panicking parent. Clockwork’s emotions, too vast for Danny to fully comprehend, were transmitted directly through those chains, microscopic vibrations raising gooseflesh on Danny’s skin. A wordless noise both distressed and pleased wound its way from Danny’s throat, continuing to echo long after he’d run out of the breath to maintain it.

Clockwork’s avatar cupped Danny’s face in its hands, long fingers almost completely encircling his head. There was more of Clockwork in it that there usually was.

“Clockwork…?” asked Danny, weakly, confused and overwhelmed by the sudden flood of affection.

Poor little one, whispered the avatar, this is what happens when matters are not properly attended to. The Vultures should know better, should take care of him properly… It pressed its forehead to Danny’s, startling a squeak from him.

Danny, reflexively, brought his hands up to clutch at the avatar’s robes.

My poor child. What are they thinking, letting him run around so ill, so that he might infect other children?

Clockwork saw Vlad as a child, too. Not surprising, considering how ancient Clockwork must be, but good to know.

That emotion! It was only a shadow, and even so-!

“Emotion?”

Hatred, hissed Clockwork’s avatar.

The collar around Danny’s neck constricted, a tighter, more Loving, more comforting, hug. Danny gasped, although breathing here was psychological rather than physiological. The cloth of the avatar’s robes began to wind up Danny’s arms.

Even the pale, human shadow of it is not something you should experience, my child.

Danny didn’t like being that angry, but—

Even the concept of it is too much, too heavy. You should not have to bear it. I should not have overlooked it. The avatar’s hands moved to the back of Danny’s head, pressing his face against its shoulder. It must hurt you so,murmured the avatar, carding fingers through Danny’s hair. Fear not. I will excise it. All of it, even the idea of it shall not touch you, shall not sully your thoughts.

The avatar stepped away.

“Wait!” shouted Danny, panicking.

Not being able to hate? Danny had mixed feelings about that, but he doubted he’d be able to talk Clockwork out of it, not with how damaging Hate could be. In the end, it wouldn’t be that much of a loss. Not being able to understand that it existed? Not being aware of hate at all? Being unable to understand that, sometimes, people would go out of their way to hurt one another?

That was dangerous. That would render him unable to even begin to comprehend vast swathes of human history and humanity.

“If I don’t know what it is,” said Danny, “if I don’t know that it exists, how can I protect myself against it?”

A gust of wind blew through Clockwork’s sepulchral hall like the sigh of a giant. It is my duty to protect you, my child.

The sheer possessiveness of the words lingered on Danny’s skin. He wanted to lean into them but held his imaginary breath.

But very well.

Danny let himself relax, slightly, even as the avatar walked to somewhere he couldn’t see, its silent footsteps giving him no clue as to where it was. With only the constant, regular hum and tick of Clockwork’s gears to stimulate him, it was hard for Danny to stay vigilant. He found himself drifting, his thoughts wandering.

Did his hatred of Vlad cause him pain, as Clockwork said? What was it going to be like, to not be able to hate at all, rather than just not being able to Hate? Would he still be angry at Vlad? He hoped so. The man deserved it.

Two points of frigid cold touched the back of his head, contracted into a single point, and pulled. Danny felt something within him come free, and he sagged as much as the chains would allow him.

The avatar walked back into view, and Danny recoiled from the thing he was carrying, clasped in a long, silver pair of tweezers. “Is that,” started Danny, before he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Was that in me?”

Yes, said Clockwork’s avatar, lowering it into a small, jeweled box. Danny felt relieved as soon as the lid closed on it and he was no longer forced to look at it. At the same time… Fear not, said the avatar. I could never destroy something of you. It will be remade into something more useful.

Danny nodded as much as he could and shuddered. He felt… dirty. Unclean. Just remembering what he’d felt, what he’d thought… It left a deep sense of wrongness.

Come, said Clockwork. I have just the thing for that. You are due for a bath. A cleansing, inside and out.

The metaphor of the chains fell away, leaving just the one, usual, slack one. Danny knew Clockwork could call them back at any time, that, in truth, they had not gone anywhere at all.

“What about Vlad?” he asked, twisting his hands around the hem of his shirt. “And my friends? Can you help them? Please.”

He felt Clockwork examine him appraisingly.

Perhaps the bath can wait for another day.

.

The mirror was a portal, tall and wide as a door, glassy surface gleaming with otherworldly light. The edges were crimped, filigreed, flared. Beyond the reflection, Danny could just make out the suggestion of movement.

It is not real, said the avatar, putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, but a might-have-been.

“But I can find a way to fix things in there?”

The avatar did not answer. A prickling feeling rose up inside Danny, settling in his stomach. Somehow, this felt similar to when he’d eaten the mirror with the bad future.

It is,confirmed the avatar, briefly nuzzling Danny.

“Why?” asked Danny, just a little horrified.

Is it not satisfying to complete two tasks at once? I told you, back then, that our next task would be to remove those presents that seek to exclude you.

Danny didn’t understand.

You will. Clockwork’s avatar paused, as if thinking. This is what the Vultures should have done for young Vladimir, although they would have accomplished it differently.

“Oh,” said Danny, trying to wrap his head around that.

Clockwork’s avatar nudged him forward. Follow the chain when you are ready to come home.

.

Danny wasn’t connected to anyone in this might-have-been world. It was odd, watching every eye slide off him as if he wasn’t even there. If he wanted to interact with someone directly, he’d have to put a lot of force of will into it.

It was strange. Other than that, everything here seemed perfectly real. Not imaginary at all. The sun shone. People spoke to one another. The grass crunched under his feet.

The University of Wisconsin-Madison lay before him in all its questionable glory.

He’d have to find Vlad and his parents. They had rented a small lab space for their experiments with the Dream and research into the others.

Normally, he’d follow his connection to them to find them, or the disturbance Vlad made in the dream, but neither of those things existed, now. Not yet. Danny didn’t exist yet.

He could just wander, try to seek out questionable lab space, but the university’s campus was large. Normally, he’d ask for directions, but…

Yeah, the no one being able to see or hear him thing really didn’t allow for that.

But there was one other thing he could try to do, one other thing he could try to sense. Their experiments. They should send waves across and through the Dream.

He let his eyes drift closed and walked blind across campus. When he opened them, he was in a lab, watching his parents and Vlad working on a kind of magic circle, inscribed with runes.

A portal, intended to let humans directly access the Dream. A portal that had created Vlad, all because he leaned too close, watched too closely, seen too much, became something else, changed.

Something like anger stirred under his skin. After this, his parents had continued to experiment, continued to try to reach the Dream, to create a weapon against the others, and in doing so both doomed Danny himself and Amity Park by making what amounted to a highway for the others to come to the real world.

But they hadn’t intended to do that, he knew. They’d been trying as best as they could to fix things. Had been trying to defend the world the best they knew, portal or no portal. And speaking of the portal… If others could damage human sanity, if Danny, small and weak and almost-human as he was, could damage human sanity, then how much more could a direct link to the Dream do? Discounting, of course, that normal dreams could lead to the Dream… That connection was more tenuous. Filtered.

His anger was a distraction from what was really bothering him.

These people, they looked like his parents. They were his parents. But… they weren’t. There was no attachment there. Nothing. It was like looking at empty shells. No Love.

It was distressing.

He watched, waiting, making note of the symbols and the placement of the ritual objects and the technological enhancements. There had to be something here that would help explain why Vlad was having such a hard time, while Danny had transitioned to his present existence without much problem.

He leaned over his not-mother’s calculations, then his not-father’s, made note of the differences. Looked at the fire, the knife, and the carved cylinders. Some of them didn’t feel quite right. One of them had been nudged out of alignment by a soda can put down by not-Jack, shifting the circle, making it bigger. Could that be something?

Vlad leaned over to examine the circle, and, at the same time, not-Jack pushed a button on the tape player, which started chanting. Danny could feel the hole boring into reality before the first syllable was finished. They’d made the portal both too well and too poorly.

Danny reached for Vlad and pulled him back, out of the way of the opening portal.

.

Danny may have made a mistake.

He’d saved Vlad from becoming other. In doing so, he’d changed things, altered this entire make-believe world. The way the story was progressing was no longer the same as his own. Which meant that it might be useless for collecting clues for fixing Vlad, Sam, and Tucker. Mostly Sam and Tucker.

(He’d help Vlad if it wouldn’t hurt his friends, he didn’t hate the man, not anymore, didn’t desire his suffering. But his friends were, of course, his main concern.)

But he couldn’t just leave. He’d made note of all the flaws in the portal, but that wasn’t in any way conclusive, wasn’t a guarantee.

And, in the meantime, his not-parents and not-Vlad had continued working on the portal, which they hadn’t shut down, unlike in the proper timeline. Or had it been disrupted by Vlad? He didn’t remember the exact sequence of events. His parents had never been clear.

But the portal was on, it was working, and it was wrong. Everything was wrong. The portal was in a class of things that should-not-be.

Just like Danny, in this world. He… With the portal, and the way things were going, he shouldn’t exist here, the butterfly effect would keep him from being born, and he was becoming painfully aware of that fact. Literally painfully. It was starting to hurt, being here, a throb in the back of his head.

Or was that the portal?

Either way…

(He couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was breaking things just by being here. Everything was going wrong. So many little accidents.)

(Or was that the portal?)

He kept watching.

It had been… a while, now. It was easy to lose track of time like this, with no one to talk to. Days? Maybe? He’d been drifting, which should have been troubling.

Maybe he should go back. Cut losses.

(Besides, it was disturbing watching his parents flirting with each other. And Vlad. Even if they weren’t really themselves.)

Then his parents wheeled in a… What was that? He walked closer. This was about the same size around as the pillars that had done this to him.

Danny would never forget those, after all.

Something hummed inside him, picking up a kind of resonance between the active portal and the pillar.

The ground fragmented beneath his feet.

Reality followed soon after.

.

He found himself nowhere with nothing. Only nowhere and nothing.

Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.

What had he done? He’d, he’d destroyed a world, he’d—

There was a gentle, but insistent tug on his chain. He followed it home.

.

He clung to Clockwork’s avatar, gasping, as if he was the only real thing in the world. His emotions were too much, too great, uncontained and roiling. They battered him like a stormy sea.

It’s alright, it’s alright, comforted the avatar. It wasn’t real, and now it never will be. All those worlds where you would not be. All gone.

No. No. No. Horror buzzed in his brain. He couldn’t have destroyed so much.

Never were,continued the avatar, Clockwork apparently oblivious. All disproven. Paradox. You could not be and yet you were. You were in the places you were not. So, now you exist, in all these places, in everywhere that could be, and always will. It stroked Danny, brushing away tears. Only one more to go, until you never were not, my beloved child, until you always were mine, as you were meant to be.

Danny keened into the robes of Clockwork’s avatar, distraught. Wind ruffled his hair.

Considering the point in time in which you were placed, said the avatar, Vladimir will be well again.

Danny looked up, hopeful for the first time in hours.

Mostly. The underlying cause has been removed. You should bring the rest to your… progenitors. They are at least competent in this area.

Danny nodded vigorously and attempted to extract himself from the avatar’s grasp. He was unsuccessful, although the avatar did adjust its grip on him.

You have had a difficult day, it observed. It then presented Danny with a cookie.

Confused, Danny took it.

A gift, said the avatar, Clockwork having evidently returned to his normal laconic mode.

“What’s it made of?” asked Danny, suspicious.

Love. What else?

.

“How do you feel?” asked Danny.

“Weird,” said Sam. “But okay.”

“What was it like?”

Sam shrugged. “It was like…” She waved her hand. “Watching a thousand different movies of my life, but they were all wrong. Like if they were crappy biopics done fifty years after I died or something.”

“Speak for yourself,” grunted Tucker. “I just got a lot of sand. So, so much sand. And sun. Do I have a sunburn?”

“No?” said Danny. “You look fine.”

“Ugh, I forgot you were white. You don’t know what sunburns look like.”

“I’d argue,” said Sam, “but you’re not wrong.” She fell back against her pillows. “I just want to sleep.”

“Same,” said Tucker. “I never want to see the sun again.”

“We’ll make a goth of you yet,” joked Sam, tossing a pillow at him.

“Okay,” said Danny, backing away. “Should I get the lights?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Sleep well,” he said. He hoped they would.

(Because he would not.)

[lexosaurus]

Going Angst Week 2021: Instinct

Read: [1: birth]

Warning: Ghost Hunger

---

Ectoplasm was poisonous to humans. Danny knew that, it was one of the first things his parents had drilled into him when he was a kid.

If humans ingested small amounts of ectoplasm, they’d be sick but would likely be fine the next day. If they ingested large amounts of ectoplasm, they’d be rushed to the ER to get their stomach pumped, and if they didn’t make it there in time, they’d die.

Danny had accidentally eaten ectoplasm-infused cookies enough times in his childhood to be able to taste it’s gross battery-acid flavor. He’d felt enough stomach cramps from his mother’s cooking before Jazz insisted that they install a second fridge in the lab to store their samples inside of to know how much the human body hated the substance. 

Ectoplasm was poison. Period.

So then why was it that when he stared down longingly at the carnage before him, did he want nothing more than to dip his hand into the delicious pool of green and scoop it into his mouth?

He knew he should leave—his parents would be arriving soon—but as he stared down at the unfortunate remains of the giant ectoplasm mosquito on the pavement, all he could think about was how hungry he was and how sick he’d been all week and this was it, this was the thing that would cure him, he just needed to reach down...

Danny shook his head in disgust. He was still partially human, he couldn’t just eat ectoplasm. 

But he was so, so hungry.

Nothing he’d eaten in the past week had satisfied his hunger. No, this was something else. Something that originated deep down in his core. No human food could fix this, he knew that on instinct.

Ectoplasm was poison.

But he was starving.

Danny closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten these strange cravings. They’d been happening ever since he learned how to shoot ghost-rays with his hands. 

At first, it was easy to ignore. Just a twinge of his stomach here, a slight watering of his mouth there. Little annoyances, but nothing he couldn’t blame on exhaustion or academic stress.

But lately, the hunger had been getting worse. Just looking at a pool of ectoplasm made his heart skip a beat, and the sight of an entire ghost mosquito carcass was enough to make him want to collapse in relief.

He needed to do something. Leave. He couldn’t stay here, he was going to lose it. 

God, this was horrible. He was disgusting for even entertaining the idea.

Danny glanced back at the mosquito. Its core had smashed somehow during the fight, allowing its fresh ectoplasm to pool onto the pavement before it. The sun was setting, and it was hitting the fresh green in just the right way.

“Shut up,” Danny snapped. He wasn’t some feral vampire, he was Danny Phantom. Amity Park’s local ghost protector. He wasn’t just going to…

He glanced around. No one was here, and no one was passing by on the street either. Maybe he could afford just one little taste…

...just one…

...no one else had to know…

...he just needed to reach down and…

His fingers brushed the cool liquid, and as if he were shocked he jolted up, pressing his back into the brick building behind him and breathing hard. 

That was close. Too close. He needed to get out of here quickly before he lost control.

But as he stared back down at the gooey carcass, it was as if a trance had overtaken him. His mind fogged up, and all his worries and stresses seemed to melt away.

The only thing he knew was that he was starving, and there was food. 

Danny crouched down over the mosquito and shyly stuck his hand back out over the glowing pool of liquid. He hesitated, as if there were still some part of his mind that was trying to resist when he knew that he just needed to chill out, Danny. It’s okay. Trust yourself.

He was a ghost. He knew what he was doing.

Closing his eyes, he dipped his hand into the ectoplasm. He shuddered, allowing his hands to explore the cool liquid. It felt...nice. And his hunger seemed to yell louder until he couldn’t ignore the voice in his head goading him to eat the ectoplasm, just eat it, eat the ectoplasm, eat the food.

He brought his hand up to his mouth, and it was as if something inside him shorted out. 

His brain switched off, all thoughts left his body. The only thing that mattered was the ectoplasm, the food, his hunger, god this tasted so nice. 

His world was green, and that was all he needed.

---

“What’s wrong with me?” Danny cried. “Why can’t I stop?”

His hands were plastered in ectoplasm, and he could feel the sticky substance dripping down his suit, threading in his hair, smearing across his face.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” Vlad said, hardly looking up from his paperwork on his desk. “You’re starving yourself.”

“But—but I don’t…” Danny collapsed in a chair and buried his head in his hands. 

“Daniel, really. I thought you were better than this pointless drivel.”

Danny shook his head. In a muffled voice, he whimpered, “Please, just tell me how to make this stop. I—I can’t stop. Please. I don’t want to be this monster.”

Vlad sighed and set down his pen. “Halfas have unique biologies in that due to the nature of our deaths, we have naturally powerful cores. The more powerful the ghost core, the more self-generating ectoplasm they can produce for their bodies, which then can offset any ectoplasm lost through daily functions. Like blood cells. Except, if you use more ectoplasm than your body can produce, it starts looking for other ways to replenish it. Typically for ghosts, the ambient ectoplasm in the Ghost Zone would do. But in the human world, there isn’t enough ambient ectoplasm for us to use, so we starve until our core takes matters into its own hands.”

“So, what. I have to move to the Ghost Zone? I don’t understand. Do you get like this?” Danny lifted his head up to see Vlad massaging his temples.

“Well unlike you, I’m not a complete moron who lets themselves get to the point where they can no longer control themselves.”

“But I don't want to do this! I don’t want to...to eat other ghosts.”

“Then don’t.” Vlad stood and yanked Danny through the floor and into his lab. He shoved Danny into the corner of the room. “Clean yourself up. I won’t have you dripping used ectoplasm all over my clean floors.”

Danny hung his head in a mixture of shock and shame as the hot water from the decontamination shower sprayed down on his body, washing the green stains from his suit onto the floor and down the drain.

Meanwhile, Vlad flitted around the lab, wasting no time in between plucking various tubes and files from their shelves to simultaneously berate Danny. “Really, Daniel, I know you’re an idiot but even you can’t be this appallingly stupid. There are many ways to consume ectoplasm that don’t involve tearing the cores out of your adversaries. Of course, if you continue to insist on being a toddler about your different biology then I have no doubt you’ll be back in this sorry state sooner than you can imagine.”

“Please, just tell me what to do.”

Vlad pulled out what appeared to be glowing green lettuce. “These are ectoplasmic vegetables. They grow in the Ghost Zone. I tend to prefer them with a nice cherry vinaigrette and paired with a glass of dry chardonnay. Do you understand, Daniel? The Ghost Zone is a parallel of the human dimension. If there are plants in the human world, there will also exist a variation of those plants in the Ghost Zone. You find the right ally, and you have your dinner.”

Danny stared dumbly at the plant. He’d only been to the Ghost Zone once before, when he was terrified his parents were getting divorced. And that trip had left him too scared to even think about going back.

“Where do you get yours from?” Danny asked.

Vlad put the lettuce back in the metal refrigerator. “Skulker. You know, my lackey? You may have heard of him.”

“Right.” Danny furrowed his brows. He couldn’t ask Skulker if he could have some of the plants—the ghost wanted to kill him. Again.

But he didn’t know anyone else who had ecto-plants either.

“I don’t know where I’d get them. I don’t know any ghosts.”

“Well, that seems like a personal problem.”

“Please!” Danny begged. “There has to be another way. I don’t know anyone! I can’t do this again. Please, Vlad.”

The true question was hidden underneath. But Danny knew what Vlad was going to say, and judging by Vlad’s vicious smirk, Danny’s assumptions were correct.

“Maybe if you stopped fighting your true nature, you wouldn’t have to beg for my food like a pathetic child.”

“Vlad, I—I don’t know what to do.”

Vlad transformed into his ghost form, his eyes glowing a harsh red against the dim light. “You may be a human, but you’re also a ghost. It’s time you started acting like one.”

He could feel it. His core, taunting him from under his skin. Telling him to give in, just trust it, trust his instincts.

But he couldn’t do it. He was scared, he didn’t understand why his instincts were telling him to act certain ways and do certain things. Why were the emotions of his friends and family suddenly so important to him? Why did he feel so compelled to play protector to the town? Why did he have to try to be so normal around Sam and Tucker?

Why couldn’t he go too long without transforming into his ghost form? Why did it feel like an addiction that was impossible to break?

What was wrong with him?

Give in, just give in. 

“I can’t.”

“You have to, Daniel.”

“But if I do that…”

“Then you’ll finally be admitting the truth of what you are. Why is that so wrong?”

Because I’m a ghost, ghosts are evil, ghosts are wrong, they shouldn’t exist, ghosts and humans don’t mix, ghosts are cruel creatures, they’re selfish, they’ll only act in their own self-interest.

But that was what his parents had told him. Was that true?

Did he know anything about ghosts?

Not really. Except for one, crucial thing:

Ghosts were different. 

Danny Fenton couldn’t be different.

---

<previous / next>

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

[lanuvolanera]

Sept 19th - Cofession

Chapter 1

My first ever fanfic, lads, be nice and enjoy.

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Coming out of Casper High mid afternoon, Danny and Tucker made their way down the school steps. Students trickled out the front doors in small groups and split their own ways as the duo began their trek to Fenton works.

"Man, I'm glad Sam didn't come today." Danny said, grasping his backpack strap slung over his shoulder.

"I know, right? She would've been miserable." Tucker replied, pocketing his PDA with a light frown on his face.

The day went well. Steady, in fact. They seemed to have kept off of Dash's radar and stayed on Mr Lancer's good side with the English assignment. Not to mention that it was pizza day at the cafeteria, the only good thing that the cooks knew how to make. Yeah, today wasn't so bad, it just felt empty without Sam by their side.

"She should be feeling better by tomorrow, right?"

"Honestly, I think she'll take the rest of the week off. If it wasn't for that ghost..."

"Oh god, don't remind me, I still feel awful." Danny said with a look of mild horror, still traumatised from the night before.

A pause in their conversation prompted more memories from last night.

Phantom, two feet above the ground, felt paralysed as he looked on and watched as Tucker ducked undercover from the ectoblasts firing in all directions from what looked like a regular bedsheet type ghost, only this one was different, this one screeched and wailed and gnawed it's black teeth, blood dripping from its mouth, staining its torso.

"We'll give her a call tonight, see how she's doing." Tucker said, dragging Danny out of his thoughts.

"Or we could head over, see how she's doing in person?"

"Or we could leave her be and let her rest."

Danny didn't like that idea, he was worried and felt guilty and ashamed that he couldn't prevent her injury. As minor as it was, she couldn't find the strength to come to school the next day, when he'd hoped to apologise again and ask how she's doing again and to offer her anything she needs again. He made his mind up right then.

"I'll fly over tonight then, when everyone's gone to bed."

"Sure, don't forget to bring her homework and tell her you love her."

"What?" Danny gasped in shock, a deep red blush covering his cheeks.

"Nothing." Tucker looked away with a sheepish grin and quickly changed the topic.

"We still need to do some research about last night's ghost, I've downloaded some pdf's which I'll send to you and Sam to see if there are other ways to dispell it if the thermos didn't work."

They turn the corner and can see the large Fenton works sign in the distance, two blocks away.

"Race you." Danny smirked, and sprinted off before Tucker had a chance to realise what was happening.

With a loud "hey!" from Tucker in the background, Danny slowed as he neared the steps to his front door and tried the handle, locked. Hmm, his parents are out, Jazz would still be at school studying in the library, looks like he and Tucker have the house to themselves. Danny pulls out his keys and unlocks the door just as Tucker catches up out of breath.

"That's cheating, you had a head start." He pants.

"Come on, the computer in the lab is free, go down and fire it up while I get some coffee brewing."

"Sounds like a plan."

-------------‐-------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Danny flew Tucker back to his house.

They soared through the night sky, clear and full of stars, street lamps illuminating the buildings below them, his best friends arm slung over phantoms shoulders.

"Look, all I'm saying is if we go back tomorrow, what if we make things worse, pissed it off even more. If its trapped there like we think, what harm will it do if we leave it alone?"

"It's different though, what if when we found it there, we let it loose?"

"If we did then don't you think we would've seen it again by now?"

"I don't want to chance it, we need to find a way to deal with it permanently."

"Don't tell me you're going back there by yourself."

"No, I'm going to Sam's, like I said."

"You'd better."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Once he'd said his goodbyes to Tucker, and reassured him he wasn't going to do something wreckless, Danny took off into the air once more and set course for Sam's House.

With a backpack full with his thermos, his laptop, his phone, both his and Sam's maths homework, a couple of pens, pencils, markers and 2 cans of Sam's favorite soda, Danny sped across the rooftops when a blue puff of cold air burst it's way past his lips.

"Of course, I thought it was too quiet tonight."

Taking a quick glance of his surroundings, there was nothing to be seen in the empty streets. A brief pause, his breath held in his lungs, then glass crashing from a shop window a few blocks down caught Danny's attention.

Cackling laughter and bursts of light flashed from the window, Danny wasted no time reaching the building, turning himself intangible and flew through the ceiling.

"Oh, come on! What the hell are you doing here? In a pet store of all places?"

....

----------------------------------------------------------------

Danny finally arrived at his destination. Peaking through the window to find Sam laying on her bed, light from her laptop illuminating her face, in her black pyjamas and a cast on her leg.

He knocked on the glass, and smiled as Sam startled.

Waving him in, he floated through the glass and landed with a soft thump on the plush carpet, and settled on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Danny said with concern in his voice.

"Fine. Hey, you need to sign my cast." Sam says with a playful smirk. Danny half expected her to be more upset about being injured, or at least, as upset as he is.

After the escape from the warehouse the night before, with Sam cradled in his arms and Tucker following not too far behind, all Danny could think was this was all his fault. Sam got injured because of him, because he was too late, too late to swoop in and protect her from the falling scaffolding from the ghost fight, that cost her her ability to run to safety. He's the hero, isn't he? And he couldn't save her from something as simple as falling debris? What kind of hero-

"Danny-"

Sam could see the distraught look on Danny's face and he caught himself looking down at her cast. It could've been a lot worse, but still.

Danny looks up at her, he needs to confess.

"I'm sorry, Sam, I'm sorry you got hurt, I should've been more careful-"

"Hey, don't worry about it, these things happen, right? It could've been a lot worse."

"I know, I keep telling myself that, but still-"

"But still, we need to figure out a way to get rid of that ghost, I've been doing some research on this specific type of ghost and I've read through the files Tucker sent me, and I think I have a good idea on what we're working with."

Sam brings the laptop closer and turns it around for Danny to see pages upon the screen filled with information from different historic and religious sites.

"Does it say anything about why the thermos didn't work?" He asked playfully. Of course, the Fenton thermos only being a recent invention, there wouldn't be any information that hasn't been put online by the Fentons themselves indicating its presence in the ghost hunting community across the globe. Sure, there have been other containment methods but for this particular ghost, the best method would be to remove it from this plane entirely instead of just bottling it up.

Other pages on the screen suggest cleansing treatments of the haunted area using a mixture of herbs, minerals and rituals, witchcraft. If that could work, maybe the Fentons have other means of ghost study to pursue, if they believed in that sort of thing, of course.

"Hoestly, this stuff is giving me a headache, I need a break."

"Good thing I have just what you need." Danny says, reaching for his backpack.

He pulls out his own laptop, the 2 cans of soda and their homework, which Sam gives a mild look of disgust.

"Great."

"You don't look at all enthused." Danny says with a cheeky smile, and pops open his can, passing the other one over to Sam who takes it gratefully.

A small awkward pause later and Sam has to snap Danny back to reality again.

"Look, I know you think this is your fault, so here's my obligatory I'm-not-a-damsel-in-distress talk, we're a team, we'll sort this out, and we can forget about it."

"It's not just that, I don't know, it's just that- I don't think I'll be able to forget about it. There's something about this ghost, it's terrifying." Danny says, setting his can aside.

"I know, ugly too." Sam smiles as Danny looks up, he remembers what Tucker said to him earlier.

Tell her you love her.

"I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you, I couldn't imagine my life without you."

At this, Sam sits up and puts her can on her bedside table. They're face to face with each other now.

"I couldn't imagine my life without you either, and you're right, that ghost is terrifying, even more of a reason to fight it."

Tell her.

"This ghost fight seems to be putting things into perspective."

You love her.

"I know what you mean."

They don't know when they got closer, or when they started leaning in.

Danny lightly brushes his fingers across her cheek, tilting her head just so, and presses his lips to hers.

It's a little awkward at first, spending a few seconds in that position. Then someone, or maybe both, adjust their lips, and oh.

Oh wow.

The sensation is amazing, sparks running down their spines and they readjust again, and again.

Their arms begin to wrap around each other and oh god, they're actually making out, kissing. They don't even realise they've fallen onto their sides on the bed, eyes squeezed shut applying and reapplying firm presses of their lips together.

They stay that way for a few moments, or is it lifetimes, when a tune came from the bedside table.

They pull apart, dazed red faces inches from each other, before Sam sits up and grabs her phone.

"It's Tucker."

She answers.

"Hey, Sam, I know you're busy recovering and all and I know it's late but I think I have a lead."

"That's great, what've you got?"

"I've found a review online about a book at the town hall library, if we can get it checked out tomorrow we might be able to find a way to exorcise this ghost."

Sam and Danny look at each other with hope.

"What's the title?"

"Ghost hunting for dummies."

"Be serious."

"I'll make you laugh one day, I swear."

"Tucker."

"It's called 'witchcraft untold', there are only 2 copies in town, the other is at the 'Skulk and Lurke'. The review made it sound like a work of fiction, and maybe it is, who knows? But I think it's worth checking out."

Sam makes a mental note of the title. There are a few books she's planning on checking out, some including cultural and religious beliefs on the undead, magic and pagan rituals, and scientific findings surrounding ghosts. If this book Tucker mentioned is as promising as it sounds, things could be looking up.

"I've been meaning to go to the 'Skulk and Lurke' tomorrow anyway, so I'll keep an eye out for it."

"Thats great, we'll talk more later, get some rest."

" I will do, see you later, Tuck."

"See you, and say hi to Danny for me!"

Click.

They glance at each other, and Danny moves to stand up.

"I should get going, um..."

"Yeah, you're gonna need some rest too if we're gonna face this ghost tomorrow night."

"We?"

"Yeah?"

"No."

"What?"

Danny couldn't believe he had to say this.

"Sam, you're injured, there's no way I'm letting you come along..."

"You're not 'letting' me do anything, I'm going. We still need to figure out a plan before then anyway, when I get a chance to check out that book."

The air surrounding them starts to tense.

"How am I supposed to fight this ghost and protect you at the same time? Or have you already forgotten about last night?"

"Excuse me? Have you forgotten what I said only ten minutes ago? I'm not letting you go off and play hero all by yourself!"

"That is not-"

"Save it. I can take care of myself."

"Fine, I'll call you in the morning."

"Fine."

And with that, Danny turns towards the window and lifts off, phases through, and rises into the night sky.