Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Danny Fenton perfected since receiving his powers, it was how to pretend.

Pretending was easy, all you had to do was look the other way. When there wasn't enough food in the house, Danny pretended; when he wouldn't see his parents for days, he pretended; when his teachers demanded answers, he pretended.

When his parents boasted about killing him, he pretended.

(They don't know, they don't know, they don't know).

When he was little, he thought they had the best job in the world. Fighting off bad guys and saving the day with weapons they made- it's every child's dream to have parents like that. Ghosts were the villains; his parents were the heroes.

Then they were a joke and as Danny grew he began to understand. Ghosts weren't real and his parents were delusional, chasing after a childhood figment of everyone's worst nightmare. Maybe as a kid he  loved his parents' determination and never-give-up attitude, but as a teenager he noticed their ignorance for what it truly was.

And then he became what he never believed in.

Humanity was ripped from his fourteen-year-old self and he was suddenly faced with his own corpse every time he looked in the mirror.

He was pretending every time he took a breath- every time he dawned the mask of liveliness- and could no longer look anyone in their eyes because pretending involved looking the other way so he wouldn't have to lie to their face.

He was something new. Not a ghost, not a human, but some fucked up mix in between that wouldn't find validation from either side. The ghosts resented his humanity and the humans feared what they couldn't understand; they spend lifetimes running from the concept of death so that when faced with the reality of it, they pretend.

(Ghosts are the enemy, ghosts can't feel, killing a ghost doesn't mean you're killing a person because they're dead, dead, dead, dead).

Danny wasn't human anymore, but at the same time he was very much so because he grew up looking the other way.

It happens during English class with Mr. Lancer, where things always seemed to happen.

When the light above the projector turns on, it's a signal that something big is happening with ghosts, but isn't a threat to their location. The light means that if the teacher wants to, they're allowed to pause class long enough to tune into the GBS (Ghost Broadcasting System) and make sure everything in Amity Park is okay.

"I suppose this is a good stopping point," Lancer comments when he sees the light.

Whispers of 'Phantom' pass around the classroom. Whenever the light turns on it usually has to do with a ghost fight downtown.

"Did you duplicate?" Tucker asks, leaning forward to whisper in Danny's ear, who shakes his head.

Lancer turns on the monitor and shuts off the lights, settling at his desk. The first thing Danny feels when his parents suddenly appeared on the screen is embarrassment.

(How naïve).

"Hey, Fentonail! It's your crazy folks!" Dash laughs.

"He can see, Dash, but who knows, your ugly mug is enough to blind anyone," Sam snaps, ever the defensive one.

"Shut it, Manson."

"Make me, Baxter."

"For the love of Romeo and Juliet, people, please," Lancer interrupts. Danny can feel Dash's angry stare from across the room.

His parents look like Jazz in the sense that they appear professional and prepared. Danny can almost picture them pulling out spreadsheets and PowerPoints in their cleaned-up looking Hazmat suits. Just as well, Danny prepares himself for embarrassment: the excited glint in his mother's eyes can only mean bad things for his reputation.

They start off talking about ghosts. It's the usual speech focused on how they're "post-life, ectoplasmic human consciousness," but then it gets weird.

"Of course our test subjects-" Maddie starts to explain.

The person interviewing them cuts her off quickly with, "I'm sorry, did you say test subjects?"

"The only way we can learn about these beings is to study them in depth," his mother responds without missing a beat.

There's a noticeable shift in the atmosphere of the classroom, but Danny's focus is on the rapid beating of his heart.

"It's how we learned they are merely projections of people and not actual 'living' beings. They respond to pain, but only because it's a phantom feeling passed over from their death. Some, miraculously, even breathe as if mimicking the motion of a living body."

"How fascinating!" the anchor praises.

The funny thing is, adults tend to miss the small things: little words and phrases that imply something larger is happening that you might overlook. Teenagers, with their tendency to jump to conclusions, don't.

"Respond to pain," Dash echoes; a statement, not a question. He's uncomfortable and the downward twitch of his mouth shows it.

"They don't mean torture, right?" Paulina asks, manicured nails curled over her mouth as if she were afraid to taste the stench of wrong in the air. "Phantom-"

"Get over it," Valerie cuts in. "You have a crush on a projection of someone's consciousness. You literally want to date a dead body-"

Paulina is quick to retaliate, eyes pinched in anger. "-I wasn't going to," she pauses to take a breath, "I mean that Phantom wouldn't let them experiment on his own kind. He'd rescue them."

"Did you not hear what the Fenton's said? They're not alive. Ghosts are just projections of people who want to terrorize humans because we're still alive and they aren't," Valerie counteres.

Her arguments are famous in Lancer's class. She challenges any and all ghost sympathizers to a battle of facts and wits and she's never lost because Danny and his friends never speak.

"So? Does that give them the right to hurt-"

"-they don't actually feel it. Pain is just a-"

More people join and it once again becomes Valerie against almost the entire class- those who sympathize with Valerie believe in the rigid 'science' of the matter and refuse to allow emotions like sympathy get in the way - a fight in which nobody sees an end to.

From the projector's speakers, Maddie continues speaking. "Their bodies reform after several days if they are disfigured enough, and the length of time depends on the power of the ghost."

She's smiling as she adds, "It was with a particularly difficult subject that we discovered something new."

Jack joins in, and the class quiets. "Ghosts have cores that stabilize them, essentially that's what keeps ghosts grounded to the living plane."

(Wrong.)

"As this particular test subject's body deteriorated and prepared to reform itself in the Ghost Zone, we noticed a small concentration deep within its projection - probably the only real thing about a ghost's body."

(Stop.)

Jack laughs, a deep sound that shakes his shoulders. "We knew it was important because the being tried to hide it from us. So, of course, Maddie and I studied it as fast as we could before it could return to the Ghost Zone - and we saved it."

(No.)

The anchor is puzzled. "Saved what, the ghost?"

Maddie and Jack share a look of accomplishment. They've always been proud of their work but this was different. This is an image of success Danny hasn't seen them wearing since he accidentally activated the portal.

"The core of a ghost is the only thing keeping it tied to this plane of existence, so all we had to do was remove it. The soul, tortured for so long and forced to stay where the living dwell, ascended," Maddie explains, smiling at the camera. "We saved it."

Amid the dead silence of the classroom, Danny Fenton leans over the side of his desk and throws up.

(All those times his ghost sense had gone off within the house, but could never find a ghost nearby; when he swore he heard bumps in the night, but couldn't figure out from where; when he woke up sweating- a scream on the tip of his tongue- feeling an emotion he knew wasn't his.)

"Daniel," Lancer's voice soothes, sounding worried.

Oh, right, he just made a mess of Lancer's floor.

Danny breathes, slowly and carefully, and allows his teacher to tilt his head back and feel his temperature. He absentmindedly notices that Lancer had turned off the broadcast, and that Valerie is still arguing in the background.

"Test subjects! They're torturing-"

"It's not-"

"Listen-!"

"-but how do you know?" Dash's rough voice cuts through the confusion. "Maybe they didn't save it and-"

Valerie shoves a finger into Dash's chest. "That right there was actual proof of what I've been telling you since the beginning! If you really still believe your oh-so-special Phantom is a hero, then wouldn't he have stopped it if they weren't really helping?"

"Did any of you stop to think that maybe Phantom didn't know?" Sam's voice drips with anger somewhere to his left. 

Lancer sets him up on his desk again, facing forward. He says something about getting a janitor to clean up the mess before trying to break up the fight still carrying on behind him with threats of detention. No one listens.

"Well, if you and ghost freak over there actually listened to us for once," Dash points a thumb in Danny's direction and everything suddenly comes into focus again.

"You think I agree with her?" Danny breathes, wide-eyed as everyone turns. Sam and Tucker hover next to him.

This is the first time he's ever spoken during their arguments.

Dash's posture is stiff, but Danny sees a slight change- a certain openness- when facing him. "Your parents do."

The atmosphere is suffocating: two hunters just admitted they torture ghosts, his class is split on how to handle this information, and neither side knows the actual facts of the situation because his own fucking parents are supposed to be experts.

Danny smiles.

(It wavers.)

"Did you know that my parents have never talked to a ghost before? They hunt them, they study them, they capture them, but they've never actually talked to one."

The class holds onto his every word. "My parents," he continues after a deep breath, fidgeting with his hands as he speaks, "are researchers who don't discover things and then make theories; they make theories and then search until they find 'evidence' that supports what they already think."

"So, you don't think they're right," Valerie says. Her voice isn't raised but there's an edge that feels like a blade against Danny's throat.

"My parents are right about a lot of things, and they're wrong about a lot of things," Danny settles on. "My parents don't like to talk to ghosts, and they really don't like to actually go into the Ghost Zone long enough to learn about them, but unlike them, I have no problem with listening and I ask questions first, shoot later."

This time Valerie's voice is curt. "You're a sympathizer then."

Danny knows she's innocent, caught in a web between two worlds, just as tangled as he is – she's just trying her best to fight for what she believes is right – but every moment where he bled because of her gun comes rushing forward and he says, "Better than a murderer."

Valerie's scowls. "They just said-"

"-my parents are wrong. I never speak up when you guys fight because why in the hell would you listen to me when my parents are the supposed experts, but I am telling you right now that they are wrong."

The class is silent and Lancer has yet to make a move to change that so Danny continues. "Cores are intimate. They're- okay, they're like a soul. Imagine if everything that represents you was compressed into a tiny ball of matter and placed at the very center of your being." He places a hand over his chest. Some of the students mimic the motion.

"What keeps a ghost here is subjective and completely dependent on how they died; it has nothing to do with their core."

The blood is rushing to his head, but he can't stop. "Do you think ghosts want to be here? Sure, some of them stay behind to watch over family members, but most want more than anything to move on to wherever they go when they're finally able to leave."

He's standing at a modest 5'4, yet appears to tower over his classmates. "I've only seen that happen once, and it was because the ghost chose to leave. Something in their very core changed and recognized it was time, and they faded away, but I still remember them vividly."

Danny can feel Sam and Tucker touch his back – he isn't sure if they're offering comfort or warning him to stop. He recalls the allies he's made since becoming half ghost - even his enemies have a special place in his heart - and tries to remember how long it's been since he's seen some of them.

(Did his parents...?)

"When you destroy a core, the very soul of a person - ghost, whatever - you cut them from existence. No life, no afterlife, no reincarnation, no rising to heaven or falling to hell. or whatever you believe in. You simply don't exist anymore. Imagine that happening to you parents, your friends, a young child who never asked to become a ghost but did."

Danny breathes. "What my parents did wasn't saving a soul. It was murder."

Valerie's chest is rising and falling quickly. On the other side of her, Danny sees Dash and Paulina struggling with this information. They looked thrilled when Danny voiced his support for their side, but as he went on everyone's expressions fell.

Lancer hand covers his mouth, cheeks tinted green. "No need to throw up," Danny says. "I already did that for you."

"And if you don't believe me," he adds without giving anyone the chance to interrupt, "talk to Jazz, the top scorer of the C.A.T. who received a Yale acceptance letter two days after applying. Or Tucker, who can hack into government files and point out every flaw in their research. Or Sam who has been in the Ghost Zone more times than any of you have ever seen a ghost."

"Or me," he finishes, "the freaky kid with ghost hunting parents who has to live with the fact his family tortures and murders people in their basement. Because until five minutes ago, I actually felt safe sleeping in my own house."

"Your parents only hurt ghosts," Valerie says. "They'd never hurt someone who's still alive."

"I guess it just depends if they think you're human enough."

Things were shifting in Amity Park, at least in the eyes of the teenagers. The adults may have been willing to ignore the implications behind what his parents and the government were doing, but the younger generation would not. And they would fight, if necessary.

Danny doesn't know what's going to happen to his family, his school, and his town, but he knows that this changes everything.

(Pretending his parents were good people was so much easier.)

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"Humans think the absolute worst thing that can happen to anyone is death," Youngblood explains when Danny passes the ghost's lair one day. For some reason, Danny stops to listen.

"We're dead, and to your kind that means nothing worse can ever happen to us because, like I said, we've already experienced what you view as the worst."

He pauses, making sure Danny is watching him. "We're insignificant to people like them, and no matter how hard you try and ignore it, your parents are hunters. You do understand what they'll do when they catch you, right?"

"If," Danny voices, defensively.

"No, Phantom, when."

Danny's gloved fingers rub up and down his arm, a nervous habit he never lost. "I'm their son," he says.

Youngblood's expression hardens.

"You're their prey."

Chapter Text

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

They appeared suddenly, only three days after the broadcast.

The curtains were drawn, but this did very little to block the sound and only seemed to cast shadows upon every corner of their home. Danny wondered if any of his classmates were out there. Sometimes he imagined he heard Sam or Tucker's voices, most likely because he'd only ever heard such passionate yelling from the two of them.

It was uncomfortable.

His skin crawled every time the news called them "Animal Rights Activists." The group did nothing to discourage this title and continued to haunt the door of the Fenton home with vigor. Jazz kept him away from the windows, gently guiding him around the house like when they were kids. Danny let her, if only to distract himself.

Her hands were gentle and Danny couldn't remember the last time his parents made him feel this safe.

They ate quietly; Jazz pulling a box of cereal out of God knows where and using the milk she bought this week to pour two bowls. Had she gone shopping recently? Danny noticed that she sat herself closest to the window. He watched the basement door instead of the window. Jazz may have thought the biggest threat was outside, but something in Danny shuddered when he tried to turn his back to the lab entrance.

"They're on my side," Danny voiced, letting the sounds bounce over the shadows coating every corner.

Jazz never turned from the window. "Just because they're against our parents doesn't mean they're on your side."

"They could help us."

Jazz hummed softly and Danny was suddenly very angry. "Don't do this to me, Jazz. Don't cut me off," he raged, fingers curling hard enough to bend his spoon.

His sister looked startled, finally facing him. "Danny, I'm not leaving you," she said after a pause, searching his face.

When his rage calmed, Danny could only imagine how vulnerable he must look. Jazz hadn't stared at him like that since the first time he tried to run away when he was six.

(He still remembered coming home to parents who hadn't even realized he left).

"Sorry," he said when Jazz stood up to wash their dishes. He jumped when she stopped to wrap him in a hug, doing her stupid older sister thing where she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Gross!" he complained, scowling at her when she laughed. "You know I'm almost sixteen."

"You're never too old for kisses from your favorite big sister."

Danny snorted, following her into the kitchen to help run the dishwasher. "You're my only big sister."

"Still your favorite, though," she quipped, shoving him gently.

The yelling outside rose in volume. Apparently, someone had found a megaphone. Jazz only paused when Danny moved to turn the TV on in the living room.

"Danny, don't watch it," she warned. He ignored her and flipped to Amity Park's news channel.

Lance Thunder was outside their house with the giant mob of protestors. With how loud they were being, the reporter could barely get a word in, but subtitles definitely helped anyone watching.

"–largest protest ever organized, beating out the Meat vs. Veggie assembly at Casper High two years ago with both its size and passion! I'm telling you, Nancy, I've never seen such angry people in Amity Park before."

The woman anchor split the screen so Lance was in one corner while the studio shot was in the other. "I hear you, Lance, and I'm surprised, really. With our town being terrorized by ghosts almost every day, it's surprising that this many people feel so passionate about Jack and Maddie Fenton's… unconventional ways of collecting research."

"Most people here would call it inhumane," Lance replied to the cheers of agreement in the background.

Nancy looked like she disagreed, but she simply looked down at the folder in her hand. "If the demographics I'm reading on this paper are correct, most of the protestors are, in fact, the Christian population of Amity Park." Nancy whistled, looking up at Lance again. "Absolutely shocking considering how vocal they are against the very existence of ghosts."

"Yes, but, Nancy, it's not only just people of the Christian faith here, it's in fact almost all religious worshipers in our town here to protest the treatment of the ghost subjects Maddie and Jack Fenton catch. Apparently, many of them are inclined to believe that the ghosts are here for a reason now–completely changing their earlier views that these beings were the work of the devil rejecting the souls of sinners–and the Fentons are trying to play God by interfering."

"By saving the ghosts, they believe the Fenton's are playing God?" Nancy said, incredulously. "Honestly, I thought this solution would please everyone, ghost sympathizes and anti-ghost activists alike. It gets rid of our ghost issue, and saves them from being tapped in the plane of the living."

Lance nodded. "Actually, some people here are very hesitant to believe what the Fentons did actually saved the ghosts. They claim if it's God's will to place their souls here for eternity rather than collect them, then shouldn't only God be able to release them back to–"

Jazz snatched the remote from Danny's hands quickly, pressing the power button and cutting Lance Thunder off mid-sentence. Danny wanted to shout at her, but the heavy footsteps climbing the basement stares made him realize why she looked so pale.

Danny tried to look normal.

(He wasn't sure he remembered how.)

"Danny-o! Jazzy-pants!" their dad yelled, waving at them cheerfully. In his arms, he held what looked like a large vacuum cleaner filled with anti-ectoplasm, the artificial version of ghost blood that their parents used to power their weapons.

Jazz wore her smile like a second skin. "We were just heading to school," she explained. Danny wondered where she had suddenly grabbed their backpacks from.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to be late for another day of useless reprogramming from the robots disguising themselves as our teachers," Danny groaned. He willed his hands to stop shaking.

"Aw, Jasmine," their mother smiled behind their Dad. "You've been taking Danny to school so often this month. It's so responsible of you!"

Jazz nodded as if she hadn't been taking Danny to school for the past two years. "With everything that's been happening lately, I just figured it was a good time for the two of us to bond."

Their mom was spreading pieces of the vacuum machine on the kitchen table they just ate on. Danny knew Jazz was silently adding "sterilize kitchen table" to her mental checklist of things to do later.

"That's wonderful, you two," Mom said, giving their front window a glance as the chanting from outside grew in volume. "You might want to take the back door to the garage."

Dad huffed. "They're still here?"

"Oh, leave them be. It's hard for people to understand what we're doing, but they'll learn eventually," Mom said, waving them off. "Be safe out there, kids!"

Jazz grabbed his hand as they passed their parents. Danny tried to see what the invention they were working on could do, but whatever it was, it wasn't even close to being put together yet. The door closed behind them with a soft click and Danny was surprised at the weight that left his shoulders when there was a wall between them.

"Have things gotten better at school?" Jazz asked when they settled into the car seats. Danny clutched his backpack in his lap, looking out the window at the walls of their garage.

"Valerie's still mad at me," he answered. "There have been a lot of arguments at lunch and I think Lancer held a staff meeting yesterday about it."

The protestors were in front of their door so the garage area was relatively free to escape from. Danny wasn't sure if Jazz would actually press the brake if someone tried to prevent them from leaving.

He pressed his face against the glass. "Everyone at Casper High has always supported Phantom so this isn't sitting well with anyone."

Jazz stopped at a red light and looked over at him. "And you not being out as often lately probably has them on edge."

Danny didn't know why he was avoiding changing into his ghost half. Maybe because of his parents, the press, the students, the protestors? He was hiding and he should have felt ashamed for it, but honestly, he was just tired.

"They'd probably want a statement from me," he guessed. "They'd want to know what I'm doing to 'stop the Fentons' or if what they say about ghosts is true."

"You don't have to say a single thing to anyone," Jazz seethed, turning a corner harder than necessary. "It is not your responsibility to fight Mom and Dad on this, and it is certainly not your responsibility to confirm if they're right or wrong to the public."

"I already told my class," Danny cut in. He paused. "I was angry."

"Then Phantom repeating the same words as you would only turn things back on you," Jazz stated. "No matter what happens, I'm keeping you out of this: ghost or human side of you. The experiments Mom and Dad are doing…."

She trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Danny watched her, recalling that she sometimes snuck into the lab to sabotage the progress of their parents' weapons. "Jazz," he voiced.

"They're hitting too close to home," she said finally, pulling into Casper's parking lot. She reached out to run a hand over his shoulder. "Mom and Dad have always wanted to push the boundaries of life and death. There's no telling what type of things they'll come up with if they keep going."

Halfas was what she meant. Mom and Dad were getting close to the theory of Halfas.

Danny suddenly didn't want to go to school anymore. "I have to go," he told Jazz, leaving the car and handing her his backpack. "I'll be back by lunch."

Jazz looked like she wanted to argue, but she stopped. She nodded, swinging his bag over her shoulder. "Be careful, little brother."

He was going to be careful. So careful that the minute he transformed, he turned invisible before taking to the sky. There was someone he really needed to talk to.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"Did you know?" he demanded the minute he landed on the plush carpet of the Town Hall office.

"Hello, Vlad. It's nice to see you, Vlad. How are you doing, Vlad?" the Mayor huffed, not looking up from his paperwork. "Oh, how kind of you to ask, Daniel! I'm doing fine, and yourself?"

Danny transformed back, approaching Vlad's desk until he was leaning against it. "Did. You. Know?"

The scratching of pen on paper stopped as Vlad rose to meet Danny's narrowed eyes. His lips curled. "Surprisingly, Daniel, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

The coil of stress Danny had been holding tight for three days felt ready to spring, surely Vlad could see that he wasn't playing around right now. There was a comfortable pause, a time that Vlad took to lean back and assess his young nemesis.

Danny didn't know what else to do. He needed something concrete or someone to talk to. Danielle was God knows where, and the only other person besides the ghosts who could understand the predicament he was in was the man in front of him.

"I didn't," Vlad answered, expression blank.

"You have cameras everywhere in our house."

Vlad chuckled. "I removed those when you asked, Daniel. I honor my promises, after all."

Danny let out a breath and leaned back, tension leaving his shoulders. He decided to change the subject away from his parents. "Who told you about cores, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Frostbite was the ghost who explained everything to me," Danny replied, looking tense again. "Only full ghosts know about them, so who told you?"

Maybe it was because Danny knew almost everyone in the Ghost Zone and would have easily been able to verify Vlad's story, maybe it was because he was starting to respect Danny, or maybe it was because he was as tired as Danny was; but Vlad didn't lie.

"No one told me. I discovered what I needed to know on my own."

Danny breathed deeply. "Discovered?"

Vlad stood up, walking around the room until he stopped near the window. "What do you want me to say, Daniel? I'm sorry? Do you think me the same as your parents now–because I'll have you know, I only did this once, and as soon as I knew, I burned all my records."

The older Halfa watched Danny struggle not to lash out in anger. If he was impressed at the teen's sudden control, he didn't show it.

"You killed someone–"

"–Kill is purely subjective–"

"–and you just moved on with your life as if everything was okay," Danny finished, eyes glowing a deep green.

Vlad frowned at the teenager, eyeing his tired eyes and shaking fists. "Do not forget who you are truly angry at, Little Badger. Me, your parents, or yourself?"

"Shut up!" Danny cried, launching an ectoblast forward. It scorched the wall an inch away from Vlad's amused expression.

"Still have that temper, I see. You've hidden it well under this mask of helplessness."

"Stop it!" Danny shouted again, launching himself at Vlad, completely blinded by anger. He struggled when Vlad gripped his hands tightly.

"Daniel," Vlad said, tone stern as he stared impassively down at the struggling teenager. "You cannot stay in that house any longer."

Danny clawed at the hands holding his wrists. "Fuck off, Vlad. You will never get me and my mom to come to you."

"Foolish child, this isn't about my previous affection for your mother" the elder Halfa hissed, bringing Danny's face inches from his own. "You are in danger the longer you stay there."

"Previous?" Danny whispered. He stopped struggling in his shock.

Vlad set him down easily and Danny didn't fight the change in position. He looked up at the elder Halfa with a lost expression.

"You've seen what happens when the core of a Halfa is unstable," Vlad continued, his expression blank even when Danny's eyes blazed once more.

"Danielle was just another one of your sick–"

Vlad cut him off with a snarl, "It was unintentional, Daniel! I am not infallible." When Danny quieted, the man sighed and rubbed his face. Danny absently noticed the wrinkles and tired eyes that made him look older than usual.

"Maddie and… Jack have always been curious. They've moved onto cores, but it won't be long before they start experiments with blood: both human and ghost."

Danny's heartbeat throbbed painfully under his ribcage and he moved to clutch his chest.

"Once they realize the existence of a Halfa is entirely possible, they will attempt to 'save us' as they so call it," Vlad explained, giving Danny a very hard look. "And you, among all three of us, are in the most danger in both forms. Not only do you live with self-righteous hunters, you're the town hero. Maddie and Jack might very likely go after you just to prove that they can save any ghost."

"They wouldn't," Danny said. He wished his voice hadn't wavered during that declaration.

"I'm trying to protect you." Vlad's voice was unnecessarily soft and it made Danny's sin crawl. Vlad wasn't nice. Vlad was never supposed to be nice.

(He thought of Jazz's soft smiles and gentle hands, placing herself between him and every human threat.)

Danny sucked in a breath through his teeth, expression panicked and unsure.

"Daniel," Vlad said again, ignoring Danny's growing panic attack. "Things are changing quickly. What are you going to do about it?"

What was he going to do? What could he do? He was sixteen and living in a broken home above two murders who would love nothing more than to strap him down on a dissection table. Was he supposed to save the ghosts? Gather human allies for his cause? Dismantle the GIW who were clearly supportive of his parents' discoveries?

"I don't know," he whispered, voicing the worries he had been holding in for the past three days. "But I don't want to just do nothing."

"Then fight," Vlad snorted as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He moved to sit in his office chair again. "Isn't that what you're good at?"

Danny breathed in deeply for what must have been the tenth time today. "Okay," he voiced. "Okay."

Mind on Danielle, Valerie, his classmates, his best friends, and his sister, Danny floated away from Town Hall with a tentative plan, feeling strangely lighter than when he first arrived.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"Hey, Dan-o!" his Daddy called, smiling when he walked into the family room. "Woah, looks like you had some fun in the mud today."

Six-year-old Danny closed the front door softly. He looked down at his torn hands and knees, his dirty jacket and shoes, and let his heavy backpack–far too full to only contain school supplies–fall to the ground. He watched his father walk past him and ruffle his hair.

"Your mother and I hit a breakthrough with the portal, kiddo! You wouldn't believe the things we learned, but don't worry, I'll explain everything when you're older."

Danny's throat was so dry he didn't think he could speak. His stomach was painfully empty and there was a heavy lump in his throat as he swallowed. "Daddy," he croaked, reaching out a small hand.

His Daddy smiled at him before making his way down the basement stairs. "You'll be such a good hunter when you get older, Dan-o! I can feel it in my bones." Then he was closing the door, locking it with the child-proof lock his Mommy had made.

In the silence, a drop of mud fell from his jacket and hit the carpet floor. Little Danny thought Mommy would be very upset if she saw.

"DANNY!" a chocked cry came from upstairs, startling the six-year-old out of his trance. He blinked away the water that clung to his eyelashes and made out the sobbing face of his older sister before he was suddenly crushed in her arms.

"Jazzy?" he asked, reaching up a hand and finding his shoulder wet from something other than rain.

"Danny, where did you go?" she screamed at him, grabbing Danny by the shoulders and looking him in the eye. She was kneeling in front of him, face very red and covered in tears.

The lump in his throat felt even bigger. "Ran 'way," he sniffed, rubbing his eyes. He didn't want to look at his sister for some reason. His tummy hurt, and his throat hurt, and he missed his rocket ship bed.

Jazz made another chocked sound. Her fingers shook as she pulled him into her lap, being gentle with his skinned hands and knees. She pressed his face against her shoulder and made pained sounds until she started to calm her breathing. Danny rubbed his face, chest feeling tight.

"I was so worried," Jazz said, voice sounding scratchy and tired. "I came back and you weren't here. Why weren't you here?"

His big sister had left for a three-day camp and Danny was very lonely. He got hungry after the first day, and Mommy and Daddy were in the basement. Danny was very upset and decided to leave so he packed his favorite rocket ship, drawings, and snacks before leaving out the front door.

It was easy to just walk out the front door.

He got lost. He was tired. It rained. He was dirty. He wanted to go home. He fell down and he got hurt. Mommy wasn't there to kiss it better, but Danny knew his Mommy and Daddy would find him soon. He wanted them to find him.

"Jazzy," Danny sniffed, voice wet. His fingers gripped her shirt like a lifeline. "Jazzy, Jazzy, Jazzy, Jazzy."

She hushed him softly as he cried into her shirt in the corner of their silent living room, shadows coiling around them like the comforting embrace of a parent.

(Danny wished he could remember what that felt like.)

Chapter Text

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

His skin doesn't fit. He feels like a spirit wearing a body that doesn't move right. It pumps blood when it shouldn't, it breathes when it shouldn't, it flushes with color when it shouldn't.

He's a spirit with a heart that still beats.

(Thump, thump, thump).

Jazz says it doesn't matter what he is, but to the ghosts and humans it does. The ghosts call him "Halfa." The humans don't call him anything because they'll never know. Sitting on the stairs in his parents' lab gave him a lot of time to become acutely aware that something might be terribly, critically wrong with him.

"Johnny," he breathed, exhaling air he shouldn't need.

The ghost on the motorcycle stopped halfway out of the portal. He whistled, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Jesus, kid, couldn't even give us a minute? What, do you wait here now so you can shove us back in without using your stupid thermos?"

Danny blinked because he wasn't sure he was awake. His hands were shaking. Johnny was silent, looking over the dark circles under his eyes. "Kid, how long have you been waiting there?"

Danny tilted his head to the clock hanging on the wall of the lab. His fingers dug into his arms.

(Breathe, breathe, breathe).

He doesn't answer, but Johnny doesn't need one. Shadow was watching them over his shoulder, but Danny had other things to worry about.

"You're the first one," he said to the ghost. "The first one in hours." Johnny stepped off his motorcycle and moved further into the lab. He didn't step any closer to Danny.

"Is this some kind of trick?" Johnny asked, holding a hand out for Shadow to cling to. "Because if one of your stupid friends jumps out guns blazing."

"Not a trick," Danny said, standing. He swayed for a moment, blinking away black spots. Johnny watched him. He was frowning.

"Does your sister know you're down here, kid?" he wondered, voice hesitant. Danny almost laughed. Johnny was acting soft, and the first person he wanted him to go to was Jazz and not his parents.

There was something really wrong with that.

Danny straightened. He had to do this. "You're fast," he started with, voice even. He was rewarded by Johnny looking serious all of a sudden. "I need you to tell everyone to stay out of Amity Park."

Maybe it was because he looked like the Grim Reaper came back for him, but Johnny didn't argue. He didn't move to go back to the Ghost Zone either. Danny breathed deeply again and Johnny watched the movement as if fascinated by the sheer fact Danny can still breathe.

Danny wanted to say a lot of things. He could feel the frustration and fear bubbling up; the uncertainty that hung in the balance of helping the ghosts and betraying his parents. His chest was tight and his throat felt dry. Most of all, he was tired.

"My parents know about cores," he settled on. His voice echoed against the lab walls in his ghost form. Danny could pinpoint the exact moment the statement registered in Johnny's mind because he'd never seen a ghost look so afraid before.

Danny panicked. "I didn't tell them," he blurted out. There was a pause. "They announced it. On the news." He took another breath. "They think taking a core saves the ghost. I-I want you to ask around if anyone's missing."

Johnny's eyes were wide and Shadow had already moved to cower behind him. He didn't bother to ask how Danny himself knew about cores. "Missing," he whispered. They both knew what that meant.

"Johnny, please," he begged, voice cracking. He pressed forward until he was only a few feet from the ghost. There must have been something in his expression that unsettled him because Johnny took a step back.

"Johnny," he tried again, hands in front of him. "Johnny, you have to tell everyone to stay out of Amity Park. At least until this dies down. I'll figure something out, I just need time."

He stood there staring at Danny. From behind his shoulder, Shadow watched him too. Danny felt uncomfortable, but he reminded himself he needed to do this so no one else died – even the ghosts.

Johnny mimicked breathing by making a noise through his teeth. Without a word, he turned around and climbed onto his motorcycle. After settling with another noise, he turned to Danny. "Some won't listen."

Danny knew that. "At least they get a warning." After a moment, he added desperately, "I can't do much else."

From on top of his motorcycle, Johnny made the very deliberate motion of looking up at the ceiling and back to Danny again. His parents were right above the lab, probably still sleeping. Jonny picked at something on his motorcycle as he said, "Kitty redecorated."

Danny wasn't sure how to respond to that until Johnny added, "We have some space."

There was a starling moment where Danny realized he wanted to get out of this house. He could easily slip out, stay in the Ghost Zone until this blew over. Ignore his worries and his parents. He wanted it so badly that he almost bit his tongue to prevent himself from refusing. "Thank you, Johnny," he said instead.

Johnny looked uncomfortable, but shrugged and revved his engine. "I'll pass the message, kid. Not like everyone will believe it, but whatever."

He turned his bike around quickly and launched himself back through the green swirls of his parents' greatest invention. Johnny was pointedly not looking at him, but Shadow uncharacteristically waved goodbye.

It was beautiful irony that his radical ghost-hating parents were the ones making him feel more comfortable amongst the ghosts than the humans.

At this point in his life, the Ghost Zone felt safer than the roof of his own home.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Life went on outside the complete upheaval of ideals that Amity Park went through. School still functioned, the mayor was still undecided on his position, and protests still happened everywhere. People had such a hard time accepting the fact ghosts were real the first time, it was going to be twice as hard to convince them they were worth protecting.

"You really want to just hide?" Sam asked over their three-way video chat. Her eyes went wide. "Ah, sorry, Danny. I didn't mean it like that."

"Jazz says it's okay to hide," he responded, ignoring the clenching feeling in his stomach. "That it's not my responsibility to fight my parents on this or talk to the media." Him and his older sister had talked a lot over the past week. "She says it's okay to want to stay away from things that are painful."

"I agree," Tucker said, not eating food for once. He had abandoned his late-night snack in favor of the seriousness of the conversation. "This isn't your job."

Sam looked as though she wanted to both be a supportive friend, but also a responsible activist. "If you just told Amity Park what you told us in class."

Danny shook his head. His fingers curled into fists inside his hoodie, picking at his nails to distract himself.

They were quiet for a moment. "Valerie's been pretty off center these past couple of days," Tucker pointed out to change the subject.

Sam pulled it right back up again with, "Exactly! What you said changed her–"

"No, Sam," Danny cut in, sternly.

(He hoped they couldn't see him shaking).

Sam sighed, but nodded. Her eyes looked sad. "Alright, Danny. I do get it, sort of."

Danny wasn't so sure of that. Sam had awful parents who suffocated her and tried to change who she was. She always rose up against them and believed in fighting back. She held protests, she argued with them over dinner, and she continued to push who she was back in their faces.

Danny wasn't like that.

Danny didn't want to end up dead.

"Kids!" his mother's voice called from downstairs.

"I have to go," he said to Sam and Tucker. He reached to close his laptop when their expressions caught his eye. They were watching him with worry.

"You flinched," Tucker whispered, voice wavering. "T-that was a flinch."

"Danny, what are your parents like when no one's around?" Sam said, voice hard and eyes narrowed.

Jazz fixing his lunches, brushing his hair, teaching him how to cook, how tie his shoelaces. Jazz reading him a story, tucking him in at night, shopping for clothes, getting grocery's. Jazz cleaning his cuts, singing him songs, driving him to school, Jazz helping him with homework. Jazz hugging him, holding him, reassuring him. Jazz always, always, always being there.

Jazz was the one who was always there.

"Who knows?" Danny said to them, because honestly, he didn't.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Lancer never pushed.

Sometimes Danny had days where his own thoughts were too loud that it was hard to listen to anyone else's words. Lancer wouldn't call on him until the end of class when he'd ask the same thing that he'd been asking Danny since Freshmen year when he noticed a change:

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Jazz was sort of already his therapist, though, so Danny didn't need someone else to talk to about being half dead. He imagined how that conversation would go down and couldn't help but laugh at the expression Lancer would make.

In front of him, outside his imagination, Lancer smiled. "What are you laughing about now?"

Danny covered his mouth and shrugged. "Just something silly."

Careful, as if he were dealing with a skittish animal ready to sprint away at any second, Lancer kneeled down and placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. The classroom was empty, and Sam and Tucker were waiting for Danny outside, but the only thing Danny could think about was the look in Lancer's eyes.

"I know all this ghost nonsense is hard on you," he said, patting Danny's shoulder again. He looked stressed. "I'm sure you're getting just as much grief at home as you are here in these halls. I want you to know you can always come to me. If anyone is bothering you, anyone at all, my classroom is always open."

Danny wanted to tell him this classroom was already one of the only places he felt safe to come to, but that would probably lead to more questions. He mustered up enough emotions to show Lancer he truly was grateful and said, "Thanks, Lancer," with a real smile.

Lancer smiled back, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He patted Danny's shoulder once more before standing up and sending him out the door. "Ah, Daniel!" he shouted when his student was almost to the end of the empty hallway. "The front doors would probably not be the best way to exit right now."

Danny looked back at Lancer then out at the doors. He didn't want to fight, he didn't want to get involved, but he also didn't want to keep feeling weak. He was hiding, not running away. "I'll be okay," he told Lancer, waving goodbye.

Lancer looked worried as he watched his student leave.

There was a roar of noise as soon as Danny opened the door. It took a moment for the lights to adjust, but Danny was intimately reminded of his first ghost battle with the Lunch Lady. The sound was so loud his ears rang, and for a moment, Danny could feel his own heartbeat.

(Thump, thump, thump.)

He breathed.

There were hundreds of kids outside holding signs in the streets. Tucker and Sam were at the very front of it with a sign that said "Murderer." The Foley's were behind them, followed by several other adults who came to pick up their kids only to be thrust face first into a protest. The Manson were yelling something at Sam. They didn't seem to care about supporting or renouncing a side, they just wanted their daughter to stop being an activist.

Dash was there. So was Paulina. Even a couple of the Casper High Administration were chanting pro-ghost propaganda, but the worst part was staring at Danny's own face printed out on a piece of cardboard.

"Protect Phantom!" Paulina shouted, followed by a cheer of support from the other students. "Stop the hunters!"

For the second time that day, Danny wasn't sure he was awake.

He took a slow step down the Casper High entrance. His hands were shaking inside his pockets and his skin crawled over a body it didn't belong on. The steady beat of his heart felt false.

He needed to move.

Jazz was suddenly there. "Danny," she breathed, eyes wide with worry and something else. "Danny, come on, we need to go home."

(Where does one go when home no longer feels like home?)

Her hands were gentle as she took off his backpack and pressed his head under her arms. They walked like that together through the crowds of students. Several saw them coming, but no one screamed at them or tried to stop them from leaving. Maybe what Danny said the first day had gotten around, or maybe they were too disgusted with the idea that they might agree with their parents to even approach them.

The noise picked up again as voices Danny didn't want to hear called out to the crowd. "You are making a mistake!" Maddie Fenton shouted into her microphone attached to the RV. "You don't understand what we're doing here, but we can explain if you'd just listen."

Someone yelled, "Fuck off." It sounded like Dash.

Jazz looked panicked. "Danny, you're shaking."

(He had never stopped.)

"We're leaving. My car is parked near the front, but we need to stay away from Mom and Dad. I don't want them dragging you into this," she said, gripping his arm tight. They kept walking, but Danny couldn't help the way his eyes wandered.

Dad was a large beacon of bright orange, towering above students and parents alike. He had a frown on his face, like when someone made fun of his work or his family. Danny could see his Mom in her Hazmat suit, goggles off and a large board in her hand. There were diagrams of ghost cores on it.

(Wrong, wrong, wrong.)

Sam and Tucker were screaming at them. Maybe everyone else couldn't understand why they were so passionate about this, but Danny knew it was because their best friend was half-dead.

They were fighting for his right to live.

"Sam, Tucker, this isn't like you," Mom told them.

Sam scoffed. "Sorry, Ms. Fenton, but you're not getting away with this one."

"Tucker, kiddo," Mr. Fenton tried, shoving the diagrams forward. "You're a smart boy! Just look at our research and you'll see–"

"I've already done my own research and it didn't involve murder," Tucker snapped. The crowd that had quieted during the exchange cheered, making Mom and Dad take a step back.

They shared a look. A look that said they weren't taking any of this seriously. His parents were looking at his friends and classmates as though they were young and naïve children trying to understand concepts they believed only adults could grasp. They looked one second away from saying, "You'll understand when you're older."

At some point during all of this, Danny had stopped walking. Jazz must have been just as captivated by the sheer nonsense going on in front of them because her feet remained planted and her eyes followed their parents.

That was their first mistake.

Dad noticed them first. His tall stature gave him the right viewpoint to see anyone trying to hide amongst the crowd. Maybe he wanted them to join them to appear like a family united against the opposition, or maybe he was offering to take them home, or maybe he was going to try and show their classmates that even his kids were on his side; either way, Danny flinched violently when his Dad called out, "DANNY-O! JAZZY-PANTS!" and waved.

The crowd parted like the sea. Danny couldn't feel his body. At that very moment, he felt not even his own heartbeat or the breath that filled his lungs to keep him alive. He was absolutely frozen in the presence of hundreds of eyes that followed him.

The gentle pause that everyone allowed as their attention shifted was broken by Jack Fenton walking down the path towards his kids. It took a moment, but Jazz startled out of her trance and shoved Danny behind her.

Everyone was silent and Jack stopped walking. "Jazzy?" he asked, voice light.

Danny could still see his father despite Jazz's best efforts. He looked startled. "We're going home," Jazz said, voice loud over the quiet courtyard.

Dad looked disappointed. "Oh, alright. We'll get going now–"

"No," Jazz cut in, gesturing to herself and Danny, "we're going home. You can stay."

Dad beamed. "Oh, okay! Sounds like a plan, Jazzy-pants! We'll see you later tonight after we knock some sense into these kids."

Danny could feel the atmosphere of the crowd shift again. They were angry. Dash was standing to Danny's right and he noticed his stare as it bore into his father's happy one.

Before anyone could counter, Jack Fenton swept forward to hug his kids. But that didn't happen because Jazz shoved Danny back, and Danny himself gasped as he moved away. Jack paused with his arms almost around Jazz. Danny was several feet away now, looking at his sisters back as she stood brave and proud between them.

Mom was next to Dad in a second. "Danny," she said in that soft motherly tone Danny almost couldn't ever remembering hearing, "what is this?"

Neither him nor Jazz answered. Danny was trying too hard to calm him breathing to notice that Sam and Tucker had moved closer to Jack and Maddie, discreetly hiding the wrist rays pointed outwards. Jazz held her arms out suddenly, stating without words her intentions to not let them pass.

The crowd remained silent.

"We're leaving," Jazz snapped, again. A demand, not a request.

Mom looked worried now as she peered over Jazz's arms. "Danny, sweetie, we would never hurt you." Dad suddenly looked bewildered as he realized what was going on.

"We're leaving," Jazz said again, this time dropping her arms and walking to Danny.

"Jazz!" Mom called again, chasing after them for a second before stopping at Jazz's glare. Mom turned her intelligent eyes towards Danny instead.

(They don't know, they don't know, they don't know.)

Danny wanted to run–

"Sweetie," their mom said, eyes wet and worried. "Why are you running from us like this? We would never hurt you."

–then suddenly, he didn't.

He still wasn't sure if he was awake – he wasn't even sure it was his voice speaking – but he allowed himself to ask in a small voice, "And if I died? If I were a ghost?"

Jazz's started down at him, the crowd held their breath, Sam and Tucker pointed their wrist rays at the back of the two greatest hunters in Amity Park.

But Mom only sighed, laughing as her and Dad shared a look of relief. "Is that all?" she chimed, happily.

Mom stepped forward, kneeling before them, even as Jazz made sure she was in front of her little brother. Her eyes were kind and she reached forward to take Danny's hand.

"Then we'd want you to be happy, Danny," she said, smiling, "and help you move on."

Danny. Couldn't. Breathe.

He ripped his hand away, making some sort of pained noise that barely sounded human. He knew he was panicking because the world spun and sounds mixed. Jazz was screaming something. Sam and Tucker cut in. For a moment, his vision was filled with blue and orange as his parents tried to reach him. Jazz screamed something else and suddenly he was being held by someone as the orange and blue got further and further away.

(Blue, the symbol of the sky and freedom, was no longer his favorite color.)

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"Today we're going to be drawing our parents!" Ms. Kelley said to the class. She was wearing her funny carrot earrings Danny loved and he giggled every time they moved.

"I want you all to draw a picture of your parents and write something nice about them to show how much you love them!" the Kindergarten teacher told the kids as she passed out colored paper.

Danny grabbed the blue one quickly, his favorite color.

"I need five people to raise their hands and tell me something a parent does. Yes, Anna!"

Ann was a girl with too many pigtails, but she let Danny have her juice box one time so she was alright. "Make yummy pancakes!"

Ms. Kelley smiled. "Perfect! Parents cook your favorite foods for you. What else? Johnathon?"

"Sing songs an' tuck you in with kisses!" the child next to Danny shouted. Danny ignored them and kept drawing. He grabbed the red crayon for hair.

"Three more things! Dash?"

Dash stood up, waving his hands. "Play!"

"Right, parents play with you! Star?"

Star showed everyone her purple robot Band-Aid. "Owchies."

"Parents make you feel better when you get hurt, and last one! Paulina."

Paulina laughed and laughed until the teacher calmed her down. Instead of saying anything, the little girl ran up and hugged the teacher. Ms. Kelley picked her up and spun the shrieking girl around once. "I love that one, Paulina! Parents give the absolute best hugs in the world!"

At the end of class, Ms. Kelley took all their drawings and hung them up on the board. Some kids drew other family members with their parents, while some only drew one parent as they only had one.

When the parents came to get their kids, they looked at the drawings and teared up. This was Ms. Kelley's favorite part of her job.

"Danny!" a little girl shrieked. She was about nine-years-old by the looks of it, and easily picked up the laughing little boy. Ms. Kelley wandered over to the redheaded adult who came with the little girl.

"Hello, Ms. Fenton," she greeted pleasantly, hardly phased by the blue Hazmat suit the woman always seemed to wear. Ms. Fenton beamed at her.

"Have you ever tried taking that suit off?" Ms. Kelley said, playfully. "Your son drew you without it for parent appreciation day."

"Oh, really?" Ms. Fenton said, laughing. "I suppose I wear this thing so often that Danny must think it's attached to me."

Ms. Kelley laughed, talking pleasantly with the kind woman. "That might be true. Although, I have to ask, I thought you were married? Doesn't Danny have a father?" she said, thinking about the drawing he made with only one person.

Behind her, she never noticed Danny pointing to his drawing and saying, "Jazzy." Nor the older sister crying as she kneeled down and hugged him tight.

Maybe if she had, things would have been different.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Chapter Text

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Panic attacks were never fun for Danny Fenton. They always made him acutely aware of the fact he needed to breathe.

The cores of a Halfa weren't like those of traditional ghosts. If Frostbite hadn't explained it to him, Vlad's research of Danielle certainty would have. Halfas have cores – as that's the only way their bodies are able to regulate ectoplasm – but rather than a physical pulsing area of light deep within their chests, their beating hearts were a substitute.

Ghosts weren't supposed to have hearts that still beat. They don't have a place for a core to manifest its metaphysical purpose without physically forming. Halfa cores, on the other hand, were essentially hidden within their hearts: a section of moving flesh as opposed to a ball of light.

(Does that make Halfas stronger or weaker than the dead?)

"Dash, take Danny! Go!"

"Jasmine, why are you doing this?"

"He's OUR son!"

"Stay back!"

"How could you!? HOW COULD YOU–"

The faster the heart of a Halfa beats, the greater the stress on their core. It was a blessing in battle: added adrenaline only makes for a more powerful – more reckless – ghost teenager; but outside of a fight, it only creates panic attacks.

And instability.

"Where?"

"–left – the park– "

"Home again?"

"We have to, but not yet."

"Danny, breathe."

He choked on his next breath, pushing against the arms holding him. The person made a surprised noise and rushed to set them on the ground.

"Wait, he's not–!"

As badly as he wanted to stand on his own two feet, Danny's legs gave out the minute he stood upright.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry."

"It's alright, just help me move him."

He felt Jazz's hands as the world spun. His eyes were open, but he couldn't see. Had his parents given him their current affliction?

(Blind, blind, blind).

Someone's rough hands moved him to lean against a tree. Jazz was right beside him, one arm around his shoulder as he slowly slid down until his cheek pressed against her. Her other hand curled around his fingers.

"Danny, just breathe. Focus on the movement," she said softly, and for a moment, nothing else mattered except listening to her voice.

His chest moved. As much as it felt (wrong, wrong, wrong), he obsessively centered himself around the motion. Air caressed his throat, ribs expanded, his entire body felt like one big machine on autopilot. The ectoplasm in his veins slowly receded – not visible to anyone other than the body it traveled through – and his heart stressed against the sudden change. Danny could feel the difference between his blood and the thick green substance that forced his heart to move.

(Ironic that the only thing keeping him alive was what should have killed him in the first place).

"You're safe," Jazz said, sounding just as patient as before. She hummed softly, resting her head on top of his. "You're safe."

He felt safe. His body only needed to cooperate.

"Is there anything I can do to…?" the boy across from them asked, still hovering.

Danny felt his sister smile against the crown of his head. "No, but Dash, thank you."

He could imagine how pink Dash's cheeks turned at her praise. That alone was enough to make him release a slight puff of breath that meant to be a laugh. Jazz tightened her hold on him, as if understanding his intention.

The shifting of leaves meant Dash stood. After a moment, where Danny was acutely aware of the eyes watching him, he said flatly, "This is really bad, isn't it?"

(The situation? His parents? The panic attack he still couldn't move from?)

"Yes," Jazz answered, squeezing him again and tilting her head back against the tree. All was silent for a single breath.

Dash's reply, several seconds later, was a simple, quiet, "Oh."

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"We could go to Vlad's," Jazz brought up, suddenly, long after Dash left.

They laid there pressed against each other for hours. Sometimes they spoke softly about silly things that made him laugh; other times, they just enjoyed the silence of the park. For the first time in a very long time, he felt safe.

Danny tilted his head up to give her an incredulous look. He received a raspberry in his face for his effort. "Jazz!" he laughed, rubbing the spit from his cheek. "That is way beyond gross."

Jazz stuck out her tongue again, leaning forward with exaggerate "Yehhhhhh," sounds as she tried to lick him. Danny pushed one hand against her forehead to keep her back, using the other to hold them upright as they both leaned sideways. "You stop that right now!"

"Stop what?" she asked, innocently, except with her tongue out it sounded like, "Sahp wa?"

He laughed, chest heaving. Breathing may have always been difficult for him, but laughing formed a pleasant ache.

(I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive.)

His thoughts started to build again. Before he could drown in them, Jazz pulled him out. "I don't want to go back, Danny." She didn't bother saying 'home.' The word felt empty, anyways.

He swallowed. He didn't either. He hadn't for a very long time.

"Sam and Tucker are probably texting me," Danny voiced, feeling his phone vibrate for what felt like the sixteenth time. He didn't want to check just in case it wasn't Sam and Tucker. After all, Jazz's phone was going off just as much as his.

When she didn't reply, he thought about what he noticed when they confronted their parents at Casper High. There was something there. Danny saw it when his father rushed forward only to freeze when his innocent hug was rejected. He saw it when his mother looked absolutely crushed at her children's avoidance. He even saw it when she held his hand and told him she'd kill him.

"They love us," he whispered with absolute certainty.

Jazz looked like the weight of the world was tugging at her face. "Danny, people can love someone and still hurt them."

(Parental love was unconditional, so why has he always felt like an obligation?).

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Danny could hear them yelling from upstairs.

His door was safely locked and he remained as far away from it as possible. No matter what he heard, Jazz told him not to come down for any reason.

He wasn't sure why they went back. Maybe for the same reason, after all these years, they had never left.

Pretending had always been easier.

The words were unintelligible, but from the tone, Danny knew Jazz and Mom were fighting tooth and nail to get the other to understand their own actions. Dad would cut in every so often, sounding hurt rather than angry. It tugged at Danny's heart, even as it raced anxiously whenever he heard footsteps trying to come upstairs. At one point, Danny knew his father was standing right outside his door, probably trying to talk himself into knocking. He never did, and Danny never spoke.

The argument picked up and dropped like a chorus. Danny noticed his hands shook whenever their voices got too loud for him to think, and maybe that was a good thing. Being left alone to your own thoughts was even more dangerous than listening to others.

He rubbed his arms, curled up against the right side of his bed. He should call Sam and Tucker to make sure they were okay. He couldn't remember what happened after Jazz screamed for Dash to take him away, but he recalled hearing Tucker's voice like a lion's roar. Everyone had been so angry.

There was a crash from downstairs and he jerked up. It was silent for a moment before the screaming started again.

His heart tried to settle.

(Thump, thump, thump).

He wondered if Johnny had figured out who his parents killed. Not even Skulker had been back in Amity Park since yesterday so he knew his message had been received. Ghosts were always extremely protective of their cores, it's why humans had never known about them, even after all these years.

(Until now).

Danny breathed deeply. Nothing about any of this was okay.

He gasped when another loud crash was heard. This time his mother's shriek wasn't as quiet. Danny couldn't hear Jazz anymore as their Mom and Dad were yelling too loud. Another crash came and went, and before he could talk himself out of it, he moved to his door and peaked out.

They weren't in the kitchen anymore; the basement door was wide open as sounds of a fight came from deep within.

The basement door that haunted his nightmares seemed to watch him. Would he go down? Would he stay in the safety of his room? Did he dare to venture to the place he died while his parents were there too?

The loudest slamming sound he had ever heard suddenly reared its head as the house shook, forcing him to grip the railing and fumble down a step. Mom screamed Jazz's name. Danny was down the stairs and through the basement door in two seconds.

There was glass covering every inch of the floor: beakers, bottles, broken ecto-guns and computer pieces. Two of his parents' containment units looked like someone had taken a bat to them, and the portal was sparking dangerously. In the middle of it all was Jazz, swinging around the Fenton anti-creep stick with a crazed look on her face.

She was destroying the lab.

Dad managed to grab one of her hands, stopping her second swing at the portal that started it all.

"Jasmine, calm down!" he cried. Because it was their dad, he sounded more like he was pleading with her than ordering.

Jazz struggled against him, completely ignoring her mother who was on her knees, one hand covering her mouth, staring wide-eyed at her daughter from the center of the room. "It's THIS!" his big sister screamed, trying to swing the bat with one hand. "All of this is because of your STUPID PORTAL!"

"Just stop this!" Dad tried again.

Jazz was absolutely relentless in her struggles, but Dad was a very large man. It was an extremely one-sided battle.

Danny found his voice. "Jazz," he said, terrified.

(Thump, thump, thump).

Three heads turned quickly. Mom gasped and moved as if to go to him, but she stopped even before Danny could take a step back. "Danny," she breathed, looking very lost.

He ignored them.

(He tried to).

They probably had no idea why their kids were suddenly pulling away; why Danny looked terrified, or why Jazz was trying to destroy the lab that destroyed their family a long time ago without them realizing it. They looked seconds away from breaking down into tears.

A small, very angry part of Danny whispered, maybe now they'll know what that feels like.

Jazz slipped out of Dad's arms easily enough. She looked scared as her eyes bore into his. "I told you to stay upstairs."

Danny swallowed, making sure to keep his eyes only on her. "I heard something break."

"I'm okay," Jazz whispered, finally reaching him. She didn't look back once as she gently guided him back upstairs.

He thought maybe one of his parents tried to say his name, but the other stopped them just as quickly. Instead, his mom gathered her courage. As she kneeled amongst the broken pieces of years of research – her entire life's effort surrounding her – she glared sternly at her child who threw the equivalence of a tantrum at almost eighteen years of age.

"Jasmine," she snapped, eyes like fire. "Grow up."

Jazz didn't even flinch.

They made it to her room, but before she locked the door and shut it tight for the night, Danny was sure he heard someone sobbing in the basement.

His sister refused to let go of him. They made a pillow fort on the floor, like they used to when they were little, and as he settled into it, he noticed absentmindedly how Jazz placed herself closest to the door.

He felt breathless, laying there staring at her ceiling. He wondered if Jazz ever worried about how she had to breathe to live. He wondered if she ever felt the need to count her breaths.

Being alive wasn't something he remembered well.

Jazz must have been thinking hard about what mom said, because she suddenly laughed quietly. "All our lives we're told to grow up," she told him in nothing more than a breathless whisper, "that things will get easier when we're older; we'll understand more, do more, simply be more. But who are the ones fucking things over for everyone?"

She paused to turn over, sending him an annoyed look. "Adults."

"Kids, though," she continued with a smile, "even teenagers at your school – all they do is care. They're curious, they're kind, they're unafraid and compassionate in a way adults never will be."

He thought about the battle each of them were fighting now: Amity Park citizens arguing for the rights of ghosts, despite their fear of them. His classmates worshiping Phantom. They were the first to support him and believe he could be something more than what being dead meant for him.

Sam and Tucker with their protest signs; the first two to lead a charge to defend him.

Dash, rushing to get him away from his own parents without hesitation.

Paulina and the other A-listers protecting Phantom's reputation.

Mr. Lancer, who never pushed.

Valerie, willing to believe that Danielle could be just as human as she was ghost. Already halfway there to supporting what he was.

"So, I call bullshit," Jazz finished, quietly, but with more certainty than he had ever heard from her. "I really don't think we need to learn how to grow up, I think they need to learn how to be kids again."

(He had never compared himself to glass before, but at this very moment he felt two seconds away from shattering).

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Chapter Text

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

People have a funny way of dealing with death.

Sam's parents never had a hard time believing in an afterlife. It wasn't technically a big part of their religion, but they kept their faith and prayers of a place and a meaning after death. Even after the ghosts showed up.

Danny had been to four funerals in his lifetime – one being a stray dog he buried in the backyard and sobbed for weeks about – but he'd never felt that spiritual presence of the afterlife Sam's family always told him about. Back when they didn't think his family was a bunch of freaks.

"They're in a better place," they would say, eyes turned towards the ceiling of the Synagogue like they expected to find the soul of their loved one rising to a place amongst the angels. "There is a plan for us all, and I know they're happy wherever they are."

With her eyes turned to the sky and hopeful tears on her cheeks as they buried yet another relative, Sam's mother never had a hard time believing in what they called Olam Haba. Maybe that's why she couldn't see it: because she was looking in the wrong place.

Danny could never find the spiritual presence Sam's family searched for in the sky.

All he could see were graveyards.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

They were quiet for a week.

He rarely saw Mom and Dad, but that was normal of them. However, this time, the building tension could be felt on both sides. Occasionally he would catch them tossing out broken glass or pieces of ruined inventions, and only then did it really hit Danny that Jazz had destroyed the most important thing in their lives. Their research.

(In a perfect world, that would have been their children.)

Danny knew his parents were blaming everything on Jazz. He could see the wistful looks they sent him sometimes, as if he was just a victim in Jazz's sudden tantrum against their authority. He was worried they might try and approach him, but his older sister was a barrier that never left his side.

Sam and Tucker slept over three times that week, making a large pile of thrown about limbs, blankets, and pillows on the floor of his bedroom. Jazz checked every single night to make sure his door was locked – and despite trying to be quiet, he heard her unlock it with the only key in the house and peek in at least twice while they were sleeping.

On one particular night, the sound of a quiet engine outside caught his attention. Danny remained still until the noise passed, raising his head to find Sam and Tucker already looking out the empty window.

"Valerie," Tucker said. "She's worried about him."

"She wouldn't be if she knew what he was," Sam scoffed, pulling the blanket back over her shoulders.

"She likes Dannielle."

"It's different."

Tucker made a sound of disagreement, but he was already falling back asleep. Both of them squeezed Danny's hand before drifting off, like they wanted to make sure he was still there.

It was such a small gesture, but Danny had to wipe his eyes before squeezing back. He stared at their hands for a while – Sam's painted nails and Tucker's chipped ones laying gently on top of his bony, scratched up mess of a palm. He didn't deserve them.

Sam and Tucker looked at him and saw something good, but everything he touched seemed to fall to pieces.

(He worried about the day his best friends would shatter in his hands.)

Mornings were spent untangling themselves and walking downstairs when they were sure the Fenton parents hadn't woken up yet. Jazz always had breakfast ready for them. Today was no exception, although the teenagers could see the odd lack of tightness in her shoulders when they sat at the table.

"They aren't here," Jazz told them. Danny's heart jumped at the hard looks Sam and Tucker exchanged. "They left the house early this morning."

Tucker pulled out his PDA. "I can track them."

"No need," Jazz answered, placing a bowl of fruit between them and sitting down. She began to shovel scoops of it onto Danny's bowl of cheerios. "They're at Town Hall for another ghost thing."

Danny jerked up. "A ghost?"

("We saved it.")

"Oh, no, sorry, Danny. They're just talking to Vlad about a new policy he wants to put in place." Here she smiled, which was an expression they didn't see often when someone talked about Vlad. "He's putting a stop to this."

Tucker whooped loudly, slamming the table hard enough for their glasses to shake. Sam called him an idiot.

"Won't the GIW get involved?" Sam asked. Everyone ignored Tucker's snort of "they can try."

"They're bound to be upset, but they honestly listen to Vlad when he gets all authoritative," Danny added, feeling like it was the most he'd spoken in days. "He'll probably make some sort of deal with them."

Jazz nodded, pouring juice for them and handing it out. "Jack and Maddie on the other hand will go kicking and screaming."

No one mentioned the casual way Jazz called her parents by their first names.

Danny thought about the protests and arguments bound to gather outside City Hall and next to Casper High. The cheers and screams were deafening, even in his memory. Phantom's face would be plastered on every poster in defense of ghost rights and he really didn't fancy looking himself in the mirror right now.

"I don't want to go to school today," he realized, suddenly.

Sam and Tucker looked sad, so he tried to smile. "I miss flying," he admitted. "I'm half ghost, guys. I feel like my core is building up and freezing my human half. I've got to change eventually."

"We'll go with you during lunch," Tucker said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Think you can carry both of us at once."

Danny laughed. "I can lift a bus and you know it, cheese head!"

The day continued as the world spun on, and Danny couldn't help but feel like he was sitting on the edge of something. Whether someone would push him, or he would trip, remained to be determined.

Lancer watched him with kind eyes, even allowing his lenience to extend towards Sam and Tucker as they tried to cheer Danny up during class. Dash approached him once in the hallway with his mouth wide open only to close it and make a face three times before standing there stupidly. Danny reached out and lightly tapped his arm as he passed. "Thank you."

Whatever Dash seemed to be struggling with cleared and he held his head high before walking off in the opposite direction.

Danny turned to find Sam and Tucker staring at him. "I don't want to know," Tucker deadpanned.

Lunch arrived with a breath of cold air and the feeling that he could take on the world. The ice in his veins lit up blue for a second after he changed, prompting Sam and Tucker into fits of laughter for looking like "a plant with a bunch of roots." He grabbed them each under one arm, feeling once again like the protector instead of the one who always needed protecting.

They flew around the edges of Amity Park to avoid Town Hall. As high as they were, no one noticed them hiding amongst the clouds. Sam hummed during the flight and Tucker made soft gasps at every change of color or scenery they could see.

Danny watched them for a while. They seemed so happy that it almost hurt him to realize they never would have been able to experience this if he hadn't died. He remembered Tucker wanting to be a Halfa and the huge fiasco with his powers mutating because of Desiree; even Sam got this look on her face whenever they took down a ghost. Vlad hadn't at first, but now he embraced what he was and the power and influence it gave him over other people. Subconsciously, his thoughts began to drift towards the Manson family and the way Sam's mother always watched the sky with hopeful eyes.

Danny didn't know why everyone said death was freedom.

It was a cage disguised as a castle.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

The protests were loud again. Of course they were, Danny hadn't expected anything less. Casper High sat adjacent to City Hall, and despite Lancer and his fellow teachers' best efforts, the crowds blocked the roads, parking lot, and entrance of Casper High.

"I have had just about enough of this," Lancer complained, shoving a student out of the way as he tried to clear the exit. "Students! Move to the side!"

No one moved.

Sam, Tucker, and Danny watched from the safety of a corner with varying degrees of amusement. "I would pay to see a smack down between Lancer and Vlad," Sam said, grinning.

"This is all Vlad?" Danny wondered, peeking around the corner. There were so many people packed into groups on the street. This time he wasn't chancing any confrontations and refused to leave the safety of the school until he located exactly where his parents were.

Beside them, Mikey chimed in with, "Well, the mayor is supposed to be giving a speech about all these new– uh, ghost findings in… an… hour…" Mikey must have remembered Danny's outburst in class a week ago because he slowly trailed off and looked embarrassed.

"It's fine, Mikey." Danny said.

"Yeah… but, Danny, how are you doing?" The redhead seemed so worried, standing there at an even shorter height than Danny and watching him with a hesitant look.

Danny sucked in a deep breath. "It's a lot."

"I can imagine," Mikey whispered, looking out at the crowd. "You're good, though?"

For the first time in a week or so, Danny realized he really was good. The panic attacks hadn't shown again, even after almost running into his parents in the hall several times during their week of silence, and he felt safe. Even the protests looked a bit different now. Almost the entire town was out here protesting for his right to live. Amity Park felt like home again.

"Really," he said, smiling at Mikey. He was happy to see him smile back.

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Dash hovering. When they made eye contact, the jock jerked backwards then looked to the ceiling. It was almost adorable.

Some amusement must have shown on his face because when Dash eyed him again, he scowled and walked over. "Your sister would kill me if you got caught in this again," he mumbled, offering no further explanation. He settled beside Mikey and Danny against the wall.

"I'm hallucinating," Tucker said, wide eyes.

"Me too," Sam muttered.

Mikey looked terrified.

Dash growled low in his throat and crossed his arms. "Shut up." After a moment of the five of them watching Lancers attempt to control chaos personified, Dash passed Danny a card.

It said "Robinsons" on the front with a funny logo of a house and two blocks on it. Dash looked uncomfortable, but turned to face him as he explained, "It's just something– well, I wanted to make sure you were okay–" whatever Dash was saying suddenly cut off and his face drained of all color.

"Fenton, come here," he said urgently.

Sam and Tucker hissed through their teeth and Danny did not want to look over his shoulder.

"Fenton," Dash said again, this time dragging him away from the door. Dash threw one arm over Danny's shoulder, needing to crouch just to reach him, and guided Danny further into the hall. Around them, whispers broke out. Everyone was looking outside.

He heard Lancer call Jazz's name and saw a flash of red hair before his sister disappeared beyond the door no one wanted him near. Mikey was behind them and wouldn't stop saying "Oh my God" under his breath. He kept looking backwards. Sam and Tucker were deadly silent as they followed.

"Dash," Danny said, staring up at the jock who tried his best to keep his face blank. "What's happening?"

The blonde shook his head. "Dash," Danny said, more forceful and resisting against the arm around his neck. "What's going on?"

Behind him, Sam said, "Danny, don't."

"Don't what? No one is telling me what's wrong."

"We're leaving now," Tucker explained. "Dash has a car out back and we saw the Fentons, so we know we won't run into them this way."

Dash sent a glare over his shoulder. "How did you know I have a car out back?"

"It's just so you to park in the senior parking lot."

"I get to because I'm on the football team."

"Exactly."

"Say that again, Foley. I have two arms and only one is around Fenton right now."

That's when the screaming started.

For a moment, it felt like he was back in the portal. There was a click, a rise of static electricity, and the rushing moment that one could only experience a second before death was at their door. He could feel the air pick up, the hallway turn green, and the engine of the portal as it hummed and hurt and burned.

(Thump, thump, thump.)

Danny's heart was in his ears as everything around him burst to life.

"Go!" Sam yelled, shoving Dash forward. The kids around them scattered at her cry. Some raced towards the door to see what was happening, others panicked and ran the other way. Danny couldn't tell who was smarter.

The scream cut off for a moment before returning with vigor. It sounded like two voices; like the first voice had an echo. An echo that was very, very close.

"Dash," Danny cried when the jock grabbed him by the arms and threw him across his back. "Dash, let go! What's happening?"

The jock raced passed students with the half-ghost on his shoulder. For the first time, he turned over his shoulder but all he could see were Sam and Tucker racing down the hall and Mikey running after them and shouting something unintelligible. He was too disoriented to do anything other than slam a fist against Dash's back. "What's happening?" he yelled. "Dash. Dash!"

They were almost at the end of the hallway. Danny couldn't put together a single coherent thought because the only thing ringing in his ears was his own heartbeat. Jazz was outside, probably with his parents, and he was running away again.

"Dash, damn it!" he cried again, kneeing Dash in the face. The jock stumbled at the blow enough for Danny to jump to the ground.

"Fenton!" Dash hissed, lunging for him.

Danny dodged, but Dash was too fast and grabbed him by the back of the shirt. The smaller teenager swung upwards to dislodge his grip, but really, if he thought he was stronger than Dash without using a little of the ectoplasm in his veins, he was dreaming.

They both screamed when a black mass slammed into them. Dash fell, dragging Danny with him until they both were sitting on the floor and looking up at the thing that appeared. It was a black cloud with green eyes, but there was something very, very wrong with it. The eyes looked fractured and the edges of the mass were bubbling a grey/green goo. It hovered above them before screeching, not taking its fractured eyes off Danny.

Dash was shaking as he stood, but the half-ghost rushed forward quickly. Danny knew this ghost. "Shadow?" Suddenly Danny's eyes widened, and he turned to the front of Casper High. "Johnny," he breathed.

Shadow made a sound of pure, deep-rooted pain.

Dash yelled his name when he ran. The jock may be stronger than him, but Danny was faster.

The screaming got louder. He shoved students out of the way. There were several more voices joining the first and he could hear every single person in Amity Park yelling, but the loudest voice was the one in the center of the square.

There was a giant tube, the one Jazz hadn't destroyed from the lab, sitting on the back of the Fenton RV and facing the screaming crowd. Inside, a mass of green screamed. In front of the RV, and separating the crowd from their van, stood his mother and father, the former pointing a gun at the tube and firing.

Jazz had already made it past her father, and because he was too busy keeping the crowd back and their mother was the one firing, she tore at the chords and wires connecting the tube to the RV. Their parents didn't seem to care. It would be over before she could do anything.

Danny was paralyzed, not even noticing his frozen teacher standing on the steps beside him. The pot of his tolerance was boiling over. In the two years he spent protecting his town from ghosts, this was the most inhumane act he had ever seen.

(Thump, thump, thump.)

His mom was forced to stop when his dad, and the group of people that pushed into him, bumped against her. Before her aim could falter, she cut the power. "Jasmine!" she shouted. She was angry.

"We're proving it to you," Jack bellowed to the crowd, voice deep and certain. "This will prove to you we can save the ghosts. You just have to see for yourselves. Watch!"

Even over the roar of the crowd, Danny could hear his sister scream, "Why did you come back?"

The mass of green had no eyes and no mouth, but a voice carried out anyways. "W-a nted… ch eck on… t-the kid."

Danny must have let a sound escape him because Lancer was suddenly blocking his view. "Daniel, go back inside. There are teachers and students who can stay with you in the cafeteria. I can take you to my place– I have a car out back."

His eyes were so kind. Everyone who helped him this past week had eyes like that. And it burned.

His parents hadn't changed their minds. The calm that settled over their house for a week was just a blanket of silence they hid under to disguise their plans. They wanted a demonstration. They wanted to show the world they were right, even when some of the only people within this crowd who knew they were wrong were teenagers.

He was talking before he could stop himself. "I'm just a kid," Danny said to Lancer, his voice staring as no more than a whisper until it rose to a cry. He was angry. He was so very angry, but even more than that he was terrified. "I'm fifteen! I-I'm –fuck I'm fifteen."

Lancer stopped looking around and stared with worried eyes at his favorite student standing on the steps of Casper High School. His chest hurt, and as the sounds in the background blended together, Danny Fenton came to the realization that he was a fifteen-year-old boy who had the weight of two worlds on his shoulders.

And. It. Burned.

Danny felt the ectoplasm in his heart move, but he cared very little for anything and everything at this very moment. Lancer took his hand, rubbing the marks (ice in his very veins) with nothing more than a feeling of helplessness that choked his throat.

(Thump, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.)

His teacher said absolutely nothing about the marks. The students, watching silently from the side, or out of the corner of their eyes as they screamed at his parents, said absolutely nothing about the marks. Sam's parents, whose only care was to find their child and protect her from this, said nothing about the marks. Dash, behind the doors with Mikey, watching Lancer pull Danny into a tight hug, said absolutely nothing about the marks.

Danny's chest hummed. His very core vibrated.

(Ghosts don't cry with their eyes. They cry with their hearts.)

Lancer held him, and for a moment he imagined it was his dad holding him this tight. That Jazz's hug was his mom, all worried and comforting like she should be. That even Dash's embrace, that clung with more desperation than necessary, felt like a parents'. Children shouldn't have to worry about anything other than making friends and playing in the sun, but Danny never got that option.

Jazz blamed the portal. Danny blamed the family he was born into.

He hugged Lancer back for a single moment before everything went wrong.

Johnny was a mess and Jazz wasn't any closer to getting him out of there. However, their mom had stopped firing because the crowd was beginning to fight them. They yelled different truths and theories they had. Nothing settled the crowd. Police were starting to make barricades, probably trying to hold off any fights until the mayor arrived. Their parents' obsession had become so deeply rooted that they couldn't see anything wrong with publically tearing a ghost apart – in the presence of children – in order to prove a point.

Then, his mom's alarm on her suit went off. It was quiet, and because the crowd had risen to a new volume of panic, it was lost in the sound. She startled, sending a panicked look to her husband who also checked his suit. They were so close to finishing this and couldn't let anything stop them. They theorized it would take a good several minutes to correctly help a ghost ascend, but now that a second one had appeared, hidden amongst the crowd, they didn't have much of a choice.

No one saw Maddie adjust her aim. No one saw Jack move a hair to the side to hide her from view. She aimed right into the crowd in the direction her watch told her, knowing that humans, with their beating hearts, could not be affected by a weapon that exposed cores.

She fired.

The blue light passed through the parents in the front, Sam and Tucker in the center, the Manson parents near the end, and through the back of Edward Lancer. The teacher, still holding his student, felt like the front of his shirt suddenly became very heavy. He looked up when students hiding behind the doors of Casper High shoved them open.

"Lancer!" Dash yelled, dropping in front of them. "There was a light– a blue light from the front!"

"What?"

Mikey and several other students gathered around him as they rushed to explain, talking over each other, "It hit you!" "You got hit!" "Are you alright?"

One student beside them had two hands in his own hair, tugging in panic. "Did they just shoot at us?"

Dash moved to check Lancer's back and came face to face with Danny Fenton's startled eyes. Face buried in Lancer's shoulder, the teenager wore an expression of pure, unfiltered shock.

"Fenton, are you alright? Lancer, I think he went into shock or something," Dash tried to explain, touching Danny's forehead. He screamed when Fenton suddenly began to cry. "Ohhhhh my God, wait, no. I didn't– I'm sorry!"

"They shot me," Danny said, voice a whisper and expression so surprised that Dash was having trouble focusing on his words rather than his face and the tears that fell.

Danny Fenton never cried. Even when his parents forced him into a full-blown panic attack a week ago, Danny Fenton didn't cry. The teenager, thick hair spilling over Lancer's shoulder and eyes so bright and pained that Dash had to suck in a breath, sobbed. "T-they, Dash– they shot me."

It took several seconds for Dash to register exactly what Danny was saying because the face of Danny Phantom was staring back at him.

"Lancer," Dash hissed, panicked. He reached forward to pull Danny from the teacher only for the teenager to scream as Lancer's shirt stuck to his skin. "Oh my–FUCK."

Danny's eyes were pulsing with ectoplasm – his hair coloring grey and black as if it couldn't decide which to stick to – and his entire body glowed with the same marks he displayed earlier. The weapon that hit him exposed cores and didn't affect humans. Danny didn't have a traditional ghost core, but he also wasn't human.

He was wearing the same clothes, but his favorite white shirt wasn't white anymore. There was a gaping hole where the skin covering his ribs should be. The muscle of his chest looked like it had been pulled to the side and through the sacs on either end of his chest sat a beating heart, pumping green through the glowing veins of the teenager it kept alive.

Dash should have done a lot of things. No one blamed him that he screamed.

This scream was somehow worse than Johnny's. The ghost had practically been torn to pieces by hunters and it was still nothing compared to the pure anguish of a teenager who was faced with so much panic.

His voice was quickly joined by Lancer's, who suddenly realized why his shirt was wet.

It was one of those moments where everything slowed down. Lancer, covered in Danny Fenton's blood, stood up with the teen still in his arms. The students around them grabbed shirts to cover the gaping hole in their classmate's chest cavity. The crowd below started to turn because suddenly the sense of panic and pain was coming from a different direction. Johnny and Shadow were yelling at Jazz because they'd seen the hunter shoot into the crowd. Jazz was already halfway to the steps.

Maddie and Jack Fenton, so very prideful and certain of their actions, looked through the crowd and finally saw their son.

(THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.)

And little Danny Fenton, who'd spent his entire life with a hole in his heart, finally had a real one to match.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Chapter Text

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

It was only eight seconds long, but those eight seconds were enough.

The protest, the Fentons aiming into the crowd, the phone swinging around a second after the shot fired to catch the tail end of a blue light, the scream, and a student being held tightly.

It cut off there.

The student who recorded it posted the video almost immediately, and within half an hour everyone in Amity Park had seen it. It was as good as going viral in this town and there was outrage.

When something bad happens to a child, a parent is asked to accompany them in the ambulance, but the police had Danny Fenton on the way to the hospital in seconds with only the man who carried him. The Fentons had tried to rush through the crowd to their son sooner than the police, and if the officer who beat them there hadn't bothered to pick up the white card that fell out of Danny Fenton's pocket, they might have let the frantic, crying parents join him in the ambulance.

But if a student has a card for seeking help for child abuse in his pocket, then things need to be handled a little differently.

Seven officers dealt with the people left behind and one drove two of Danny Fenton's best friends to the hospital. Witness statements were taken from two students who watched the entire incident through the Casper High doors, and more than a number of people asked what happened.

Problem was, nobody who knew anything was talking beyond what was absolutely necessary.

There were whispers of a ghost showing up and the Fentons missing their target, or the hunters being overshadowed before accidently shooting the wrong person.

(Would that make them awful people if everyone wished that was what happened?)

The ghost – if it could be called than anymore – was released. Absolutely no one was terrified when it floated upwards as an indistinguishable blob of green, quickly joined by a black blur before heading towards the Fenton's home. The people hoped the ectoplasm from wherever the Fenton portal led would heal it.

As for the Fentons, despite their worries, panic, and anguish over not being allowed to see their son who might be "–dying right now, damn it!" the officer who found the Robinson's Child Abuse Out Reach Program card was adamant that the Fentons walk down to the station with her.

Jazz Fenton stood tall and followed them.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

From within the ambulance, Edward Lancer held his composure together poorly. There were two other women with him shoving a tube down his student's throat, connecting him to an IV, and preventing their patient from bleeding out.

"–sir, SIR," shouted one of the women, mask drawn tightly over her face. "His blood isn't clotting. We need to know everything you can tell us."

Lancer blinked at her panicked eyes. They were brown.

"Sir, we are not equipped to handle this," she tried again, "we need you to focus."

Handle a patient who was bleeding out? Was that not their job? The other woman said something quickly and the one yelling at Lancer turned to change the bandage to something heavier. That was when Lancer noticed the green tint to the soaked piece of cloth.

Danny was unconscious, strapped down on a gurney, but the blood-covered bandages he wore looked like Christmas had come early. When the woman moved to add another bandage, Lancer unwilling received a full-frontal view of Danny's chest cavity, missing skin, pushed aside muscles and all. The veins on his arms, face, neck, and currently slow beating heart were pulsing bright, neon green.

"Sir!" yelled the EME. "This type of blood is not clotting."

"You think I know what to do?" Lancer said a bit hysterically. He hadn't known. He hadn't known. He hadn't known.

The second EME suggested the Fentons forcing Lancer to slam a fist against the metal box he was sitting on. "Not an option."

"They are the only experts on ghost related activity," the first EME argued.

"They're the ones who shot him."

"We need the Fentons' notes."

"You really think they'd have something that could save a ghost? You could be just like them."

The EME's eyes flashed and she pulled down her mask to shout at Lancer, "Sir, we are trying to save his life."

The ambulance buckled slightly under the weight of something heavy landing on top of it. Lancer moved to block the door when the Red Huntress tapped on the back window. The woman in the suit tapped on the window again, clasping her hands together in the form of prayer. Or maybe it was 'please.' The EME suggested opening the door.

"She hunts ghosts," Lancer reminded them.

Outside, the Red Huntress tried pointing them towards the left. It was difficult to tell through the small window, but Lancer could see as they turned the corner that she was pointing towards the hospital they were pulling into.

"Keep driving," the teacher said.

"Sir, we have to get the kid inside or he won't make it."

As much as Lancer didn't want to open the door, he knew there was very little time, so he grabbed the mini fire hydrant and raised it above his head as the EMEs rushed to move Danny's gurney. Lancer jumped from the ambulance when they parked and shoved the Red Huntress back, looking over his shoulder once he landed to make sure they were rolling Danny into the hospital. The women must have called ahead because several people rushed forward from the building to meet them.

Lancer turned to glare at the ghost hunter. "Stay where you are. I won't let any of you hurt him."

The Red Huntress made a noise of distress, trying to see past him, but the man wasn't taking any chances.

"I am through with these lousy ghost politics and I am done listening to people who don't have a clue what they're talking about," he said, voice-wavering as he became aware of his red-stained hands. "My student needs me, and I am never–"

"–Lancer," the Huntress cut off, breathing deep. She pressed a button on her neck and the helmet she wore collapsed. "Mr. Lancer, it's me. God, it's me."

Out of pure shock, the teacher dropped the fire hydrant. "Ms. Grey!" he breathed. The only thing Lancer could focus on about his student were the bags under her eyes and her face that couldn't look more stressed if she tried.

"You need to let us in, I have to see him," she said, holding the front of her suit.

Lancer automatically went to block her. Valerie stopped to stare into his eyes. "Is he okay? How bad is it?"

"How did you know about this?"

"It's all over the news. I was at Mayor Master's place when we heard and–" she cut herself off, looking at the sky for some reason. "I actually can't believe I beat him here."

"I am getting old, darling," came the voice of Vlad Masters. He walked calmly around the corner of the hospital, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and looking as impeccable as usual in his suit. "Not all of us can have the energy of teenage superheroes, now can we?"

Valerie made a face.

Lancer didn't know whether he should bow or run. There was something very dangerous about Mr. Masters at the moment.

Vlad approached the two of them, smile tight across his face. "Now, we have not a moment to lose."

"What if someone tries to stop us?" Valerie asked, eyeing the closed door behind Lancer where they took Danny.

"That's the brilliant thing about being in charge, no one would dare." Vlad walked calmly towards the door, followed by Valerie. He was right. No one tried to stop them when they entered.

Lancer realized what was so different about him. Vlad Masters was angry.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Valerie had been thinking lately.

It was rather uncommon for her and she knew it. She knew she was known as the hunter who shot first, asked questions later – and boy did she wish that title had never passed to the Fentons because nothing about this situation was okay – but these past two weeks she knew that thinking was a very critical skill to use.

Valerie liked Phantom's cousin. She was a sweet little girl who wanted nothing more than to live, and didn't she have the right to? After all, she was still part human. Then there was Vlad Masters, the man who had been deceiving her since day one and really deserved a good punch in the nose. He was a jackass who treated people like pawns, who also happened to be the same weird hybrid mix that Danielle was.

The teenage ghost hunter had barely a week to come to terms with this before the Fentons threw another wrench in the whole thing.

Valerie was adamant that ghosts were fundamentally different from humans. Phantom had tried to tell her there were good and bad ghost and she believed him, which was why the Fentons' theory made sense. Ghosts weren't here on purpose and they were all waiting around to move on. If humans could help them move on, wouldn't that solve everyone's problems?

According to Danny Fenton, no.

Valerie remembered thinking what the fuck was up with people named Danny because she'd only met two in her lifetime but for some reason they both were the most stubborn people she had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

If she ever adopted a kid, she'd be staying far away from names that started with D, just to be safe.

Then came the incident outside of Town Hall. Valerie hated the way the Fenton parents smiled at their kids, she hated the way Tucker and Sam kept their wrist weapons locked on them, she hated the way Jazz stood between Danny and their father, she hated the way Danny looked like he wanted to become one with the floor, but most of all she hated what it implied.

There was something going on in the Fenton household and a lot of people were going to get hurt when that particular can of worms was pried open.

Valerie visited him every so often. She'd finish patrol – picking up Phantom's slack without complaint, knowing it was probably better he stayed hidden in whatever hole he found until this blew over – and head to his house to peer in the window. Sam and Tucker usually slept with him on the floor in a giant pile. The first time she saw it, she deactivated her helmet and placed a hand over her mouth. She thought it was kind of sweet. At the very least, it was nice to know the two of them would always be there to protect Danny.

After another week, Valerie sucked it up and visited Mr. Masters.

It went as well as expected.

"Yeah, hey, Mr. Masters. I've always known you were a pretentious, egotistical jackass in a suit, but guess what? Now I know you're a pretentious, egotistical jackass ghost in a suit. Isn't that amazing?"

Vlad Masters apparently liked to shoot first ask questions later as well. It was a long while before they'd both calmed down enough to hold a discussion. A lot of things were said, and Valerie found out more than she'd ever wanted to know.

At least there was only one Danny in her life causing her grief.

"Does he know?" Valerie asked after almost a minute of silence. There were quite a few broken items on the floor and it took her a bit longer than expected to catch her breath.

Vlad didn't look much better. He'd transformed back after their little spat, but his eyes burned red. "Of course. The boy wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for me," he replied.

"I highly doubt that."

"Watch your tongue, Huntress. You have no idea the things I do to keep him out of trouble."

"I'm pretty certain you're the one who gets him into trouble."

"All under controlled circumstances," Vlad said, crossing his arms and staring right at her. "You really think if ghosts who had hundreds upon thousands of years to harness their abilities were really going all out against a newly formed half-ghost teenager that Daniel would stand a chance?"

Valerie really didn't want to answer that because she herself was a teenager who had no idea what she was doing and would probably be dead if not for Vlad's suit.

"I don't have to justify my actions to a teenager," Vlad sneered, "but Daniel was inside the portal when it turned on. My accident merely marked my face." He left it at that and Valerie really did not want to think about what that could mean.

"With his power comes enemies," he continued, clenching his fingers into her suit jacket. "Daniel is something very unique and I am more than thrilled to not be alone in this universe. I would just like to make sure the boy lives to reach adulthood."

The mayor grumbled under his breath and rubbed his face, "Why he chooses to use said abilities to be a vigilante in tights, I will never know."

It was almost pleasant to be around Mayor Masters when he went on about hybrid theories, ghost analysis, and human morals. He shared that he, Maddie, and Jack – wow, Maddie and Jack? Okay, it was way too weird to refer to Danny's parents as such – studied the paranormal in college but had a falling out after his accident.

"I will be honest with you," Vlad said, clasping his hands together and leaning on his knees. "I was terrified when I heard they had children. I loved Maddie more than any man could ever love a woman, but she was far from perfect. Did you know they didn't visit me once while I was in the hospital?"

Valerie shook her head, feeling something tight gather in her throat.

"I was their best friend. All those years spent in therapy trying to get my life back and they should have been by my side. It wasn't like they didn't care or were being rude out of malicious intent." Vlad laughed. "God, no. They'd forgotten."

"They would ask me how I was doing every so often and I reassured them I was fine–" Vlad cut off to catch his breath. "I told them I was fine, but I was not fine and they believed me. Who believes a man who has been hospitalized for basically the rest of his life is actually okay?"

Vlad sighed, avoiding looking in Valerie's direction. "They sent a wedding invite, birthday invites, and even baby shower invitations, but I burned them. Their lack of neglect towards their old best friend could only mean this was normal for them. I can't even begin to imagine what it's been like for Jasmine and Daniel."

"If you knew all of this, why didn't you tell the authorities? Get Danny and Jazz away from all this?" Valerie asked.

Vlad looked at her like she was crazy. "And have Daniel hate me for the rest of his life? Teenagers hold grudges like toddles hold teddy bears. Daniel may be the only other person on this planet who understands what happened to me, not to mention it's his damn parents' fault for turning him into this–the two of us are both mistakes of their negligence and I–"

Valerie wanted to comfort him. She didn't. "What about Danielle?"

Vlad looked floored for a moment. He probably thought she wouldn't bring it up. Valerie knew Vlad Masters was an excellent manipulator, but there was truth in everything he'd shared. Now she wanted to know something.

"I will apologize for that," he said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "I do not view people the same way you do. I could blame it on many things, but my actions are my own. For that I am sorry."

Seeing the usually put together man so uncomfortable and out of place made Valerie feel like she'd stepped into an alternative dimension. In fact, these past couple of weeks felt like everything had been turned on its head.

She'd never forget the look on his face when the news alert came in saying the Fentons had shot a child.

(Please, God, please don't be Daniel.)

The face Vlad made now was carefully blank. Valerie marched beside him through the hospital halls, watching everyone step out of the way to let him pass. One of the EME's was running down the hall towards them and Vlad stopped her with a gentle hand.

"Daniel Fenton was just admitted; I would like to acquire as to where he is right now," he asked, tone gentle.

"Sir, I need to grab blood"–

"I understand, ma'am, that you are having trouble treating Daniel. I have something that can help. I'm his emergency contact."

If the mayor of Amity Park had walked up to Valerie and suddenly told her this, she probably would have taken a moment to blink at him in disbelief. First responders, however, were crazy prepared for anything.

The woman grabbed Vlad by the shoulder – just straight up wrinkled his expensive suit and everything – to drag him down the hall towards the surgery rooms. She shoved him through the first set of doors and turned around to startle at Valerie, red suit on and helmet off, looking absolutely terrified.

"This is the weirdest fucking day of my life," the women said after a moment. "And I am going to pretend like I understand what's going on because the alternative is admitting I have no idea what is happening."

"Can I see him?" Valerie asked, voice weaker than she intended. She cleared her throat. "I can stay out of the room. I can stay here in case anyone tries anything."

The EME eyed her suit. She was thoroughly unimpressed. "Ecto weapons are banned from the hospital."

Valerie was ready to deactivate her suit when the woman asked, "You do realize who we have in there, right?"

"Yes."

"And you think I should let a ghost hunter in there after what happened today?"

"He's my friend."

"They were his parents."

Valerie felt that one deep in the gut.

The woman must have seen the flinch and sighed. "Stay outside, look through the windows of the second room."

Valerie threw a rushed thank you over her shoulder, pushing the door open and finding Vlad arguing with a very tall looking man. He looked frustrated.

"It still won't work if"– the man said, mouth covered in a surgical mask and glove-covered hands facing straight up. There were three people inside the other room leaning over someone and Valerie was not prepared to look in that direction yet.

The surgeon noticed Valerie's entrance and stiffened. Vlad gave a frustrated cry and called attention right back to himself by forming a ball of pink ectoplasm in the palm of his hand in the middle of the hospital in front of several humans.

The surgeon rushed backwards and inside the three people looked up to gasp. Valerie interjected, "It's alright! It's alright!"

Vlad stood there with a glowing fist, looking less and less thrilled with the man who was probably overseeing Danny's surgery. "Daniel's blood will not clot with an injury so severe. He will continue to bleed out unless he is given a transfusion of blood that is both human and ectoplasm based," he explained, coldly. After a moment, he allowed the glow to melt away.

"I am the only other person on this planet capable of donating. Do your job and save the kid or I will end you."

The surgeon looked like he wanted to cry.

"Oh, for Christ sake, politically."

Valerie watched from the window when they drew the odd mix of colors from Vlad to heal Danny. Apparently, Vlad and the surgeon had been arguing that they couldn't give Danny more blood with a gaping hole in his chest. He'd just continue to bleed it out. Vlad was now trying to explain to the very eager doctors – who were following his instructions to fix Danny's insides – exactly how ectoplasm helped heal people like them.

As she watched their interactions, Valerie wondered what Danny would think of all of this. His parents had shot him, Amity Park pretty much knew who he was – or were still gathering the pieces – the EMEs were taking the fact Danny Fenton was a ghost in stride, the police protected him, and now Vlad was protecting him.

Vlad literally threatened the surgeons with a glowing ectoplasm ball. If he wasn't careful, his secret would be out too.

Honesty, Valerie thought Danny would be pretty upset he was the one who needed protecting. Valerie herself was upset Danny need protecting. If his parents were better people, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

There was a lot going on that she didn't know. There was a lot going on that everyone didn't know. In time, she hoped Danny would feel comfortable enough to talk about it, but for now she would do her best – like everyone else – to protect him.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Officer Joel watched the teenagers through the rearview mirror. They sat in complete silence the entire way to the hospital. He'd seen a lot as an officer of the law, especially as an officer in the most haunted city in America, but the way these kids clamed up after the incident at the school worried him.

"You can talk about it, you know," he told them when the hospital came within sight. They didn't look up. "It might help."

"My friend was shot," the boy replied.

"And how does that feel?"

The girl let out a startled laugh, leaning against her hand and looking out the left window. "God, we're not in therapy. You know who's going to need therapy after this? Danny."

The boy gripped the hand she wasn't resting on, drawing the officer's attention to the fact they hadn't let go of each other since he agreed to drive them.

When screaming came from the back of the crowd, Officer Joel was one of the first people to cut through everyone. His coworker, Officer Ann, reached the scene before him and cried, "BACKUP, NOW. BRING AN AMBULANCE." He listened and radioed in the second he heard her tone.

Joel and another officer grabbed the student and hauled him to the front when the ambulance arrived.

"Danny," came the panicked voice of the student's mother. She had rushed forward, trying to catch up to them. She looked absolutely distraught with tears running down her flushed cheeks. Behind her, the husband wasn't doing much better.

"T-that's my son. That's my son."

Joel did not know what to do in this situation. Thankfully, Ann intercepted the frantic mother and father, holding up a white card and giving them the glare of the century. Whatever she said must have worked because they had no problem handing the kid off to the EMEs.

"Please!" the teacher from before yelled, panting from behind them. His shirt was still damp with blood. "He's my student. I don't want him to be alone."

"Family only, sir," one of the women said, reaching to close the door.

"His family is right there!" the teacher shouted, pointing at the Fentons who were arguing with Officer Ann.

The EME paused, eyes wide. She looked down at her patient, up at the Fentons, and then to her partner. The teacher was allowed to join.

"Jazz said they made it to the station," the girl said, suddenly. Officer Joel looked up to see them smiling at each other.

"I want her to be here."

"Yeah, but she's totally going to tear them apart."

"Think this is the final straw?"

The girl slammed a fist against the cage in the back of the police car. "The final straw was two weeks ago. We're six feet under now."

Officer Joel pulled into the hospital parking lot, making sure to keep the doors locked. When the kids tried to jump out the second he parked, he hid a smile. "Don't rush, I'm coming with you."

"Look, buddy," the girl said, eyes pinched, "thanks for driving us, but I kind of want to make sure my friend isn't a corpse right now."

"You're minors without guardians and it is my responsibility"–

"Oh my God, let's just go!" the boy shouted, pulling at the door handle. Officer Joel unlocked it, pausing to lock the car again and racing after the teenagers.

He assumed the news hadn't arrived yet as the hospital was just as busy as it always was. Officer Joel wasn't kidding himself; with the way everyone was acting, this was big. He saw the kid's hair. There was no mistaking that color.

The two teenagers yelling at the person working the reception desk had probably known the entire time. Officer Joel prayed that the Fentons hadn't known – or worse, been the cause of whatever their child was – because if the situation wasn't messed up before, whatever Officer Ann was dealing with down at the station would probably make it a lot worse.

"I cannot allow– HEY!" the receptionist yelled when the girl and boy took off down the hall. Officer Joel wanted to take a nap, but the receptionist was giving him the glare of the century so he followed them.

"This way!" yelled the boy, and seriously how the heck did he pull up a map of the hospital so quickly? The two of them were unbelievably fast – ah, to be young again – turning yet another corner and disappearing behind two doors.

Joel leaned over his knees to catch his breath, feeling the room spin. Chasing ghosts was easier than this. A scream came from beyond the door and duty called, again.

The officer walked in to find the Red Huntress, sworn enemy of Danny Phantom, being held at gun point by the two teenagers he escorted here –with her mask off wait holy. Inside the glass stood Amity Park's Mayor, Vlad Masters, talking on the phone and hooked up to several machines with at least four very confused people in masks and one prone figure laying on a table.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" the girl shouted. She moved closer to the Huntress who put her hands up and stepped back. "You let her in here. ARE. YOU. KIDDING ME?"

"Sam! On your right," the boy yelled. When the girl, Sam, turned to find Vlad Masters, she adjusted her aim.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, voice lower but far deeper than when she screamed at the Huntress. "Get away from him."

Vlad Masters hung up on whoever he was talking to and had the most unimpressed look on his face, the kind that made it seem like he was used to being held at gunpoint by a pair of teenagers. "If you want me to continue saving Daniel's life, then I suggest you stop threatening everyone in this room. Our surgeons here are very weak-willed."

"I will when someone explains to me what the hell is going on."

"Ah yes, of course," Mayor Masters said, clearing his throat. "Valerie here was worried, the surgeons here are doing their jobs, and what am I doing again? Oh, yes, that's right. Saving Daniel's life as the only other person capable of donating fully compatible blood. How are you two doing? It's been so long since we've had a chat."

"I have never wanted to shoot the smug out of you as badly as I do right now," Sam growled, fingers tightening around the button on her wrist.

"Tucker?" the Huntress said, suddenly. She stepped forward but paused when Sam turned to point at her again.

"Are you here to hurt Danny?" the boy, Tucker, asked, head tilted to the side and watching her carefully.

The Red Huntress shook her head. "I promise, and I swear I'm so sorry. If I'd been less harsh, maybe given him less pressure… with his parents always… I could have done something."

"This is not your fault, Valerie, just like it isn't Danny fault, or my fault, or Sam's fault, or Jazz's fault, or – as much as it pains me to admit – Vlad's fault. We know who is at fault and Jazz is taking care of it."

"She isn't eighteen yet."

"We'll figure it out."

Tucker turned to find Sam still locked and loaded. "God damn it, Sam, put the weapon down. We're in a h-h-hospital for Christ sakes."

Sam dropped the weapon with a snort. "Don't think about it too much. I'm not cleaning up after you if you puke."

Officer Joel was very satisfied with remaining a bystander, as long as none of the kids actually started to fire at one another. There may have been a lot of people who could take everything going on today in stride, but he was not one of them.

One of the surgeons inside the glass made a noise of surprise. "Incredible," a woman's voice said, and suddenly the others crowded around the prone form on the table.

"What's happening?" Sam demanded. She, Tucker, and Valerie moved to cover the window, prompting Officer Joel to move farther in if he wanted to see. "Vlad, what's going on?"

Vlad was smiling at the doctors who couldn't stop looking at Danny in wonder. "Incredible isn't it? Imagine what kind of things we could accomplish if our blood could counteract disease or force antibodies in normal humans to adapt to even the toughest conditions."

"You sound like a business pitch," Sam grumbled, pressing her fingers against the glass with an annoyed expression on her face. "Leave the sucking up for after Danny's healed."

"Probably trying to cover his ass; make himself useful," Tucker said under his breath. "Secret's out. Halfas are real."

"Have either of you heard from Danielle?" Valerie asked, sounding worried. Sam and Tucker turned to look at her in surprise.

"You care?" Sam said at the same time Tucker voiced, "No, she kind of wants to travel the world. No contact."

Valerie looked disheartened. "So that means the only person who can really help is standing right in front of us."

The three pressed their faces against the glass again, watching as Mayor Masters and the surgeons worked to keep their friend alive, if he really could be considered alive in the first place.

Behind them, the door opened quietly, and an overweight man stepped through. Joel's hand moved to his gun, but the man quickly whispered, "I rode with Daniel in the ambulance. I'm his teacher." The children were too engrossed with watching their friend to notice, so Joel and the teacher stood behind them in silence.

After a moment, the teacher asked, "Is he okay?"

"No idea," Joel answered. "Honestly, I have no idea what's going on."

The man chuckled. "That makes two of us."

Officer Joel decided he was going to stay very, very quiet until someone explained to him what was happening because at this moment he wasn't sure about anything anymore. All he knew was that he hoped the kid pulled through.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

The media was in a frenzy. It was like someone baited the water and waited for the sharks to take a bite.

Officer Ann separated Jasmine Fenton from her parents the minute she demanded she follow them. Separate cars, separate entrances, separate offices. They arrived at the station fifteen minutes after that damn video went viral and Officer Ann, who guided Jasmine through the swarm, couldn't help but admire the young girl.

"Jasmine, can you verify the claim your parents shot a weapon into a crowd of people?"

"Are the Fenton parents under arrest?"

"Can you make a statement on what happened?"

"Was Daniel Fenton the child who was shot?"

No one mentioned anything unusual about the incident. Officer Ann knew everyone saw the video and despite the fact Daniel Fenton was shot, it was Danny Phantom who was wheeled away in an ambulance. More than likely, no one wanted to assume anything as, in Journalism, putting words into someone else's mouth made the claim unreliable information. They needed Jazz or her parents to mention it first.

But Jazz was unrelenting in her pursuit – of what, Officer Ann had no idea, but she wasn't going to be the one to stand in her way.

Ann watched out of the corner of her eye as the Fenton parents were directed to a back room. Not a holding cell or anything too over the top, but a place where Jazz couldn't be influenced by them and vice versa. The media was told to wait in the lobby, just out of range of hearing anything they discussed, and thanks to the cubicles they wouldn't be able to record any expressions Jazz made. They would just have to wait.

The officer led Jazz to a seat and waited for her to finish what she was doing on her phone. "Sam and Tucker are on the way to the hospital," Jazz offered, looking up. "They're Danny's best friends."

Officer Ann nodded and sat across from the teenager. Inside the office, her coworkers pretended they weren't paying attention and she almost smiled at how badly they were trying to hide their interest. She paged the chief and waited.

"Do you need anything?" Ann asked.

Jazz looked up again. She breathed deeply. "Water… if it's alright."

"Of course."

She handed Jazz a cup and pointed her towards the fountain in the corner. Ann was right in her assumption that Jazz wanted to get up and move around as opposed to sitting still because she jumped at the chance. On her way back, the girl looked at the lobby where the press watched.

"I never thought this day would come," Jazz said, sitting down but continuing to look where the reporters were huddled. "Sam, Tucker, and I prepared lie after lie after lie, but now we have to tell the truth."

Ann wanted to approach this very cautiously. "You don't have to do anything, Jazz," she reminded the teenager.

"If we want to get away from Jack and Maddie, then yes, I do."

The casual use of her parents' first names was definitely being written down in the notebooks of her coworkers listening in. At the very least, this meant Ann could focus on comforting Jazz instead of writing down every bit of damning evidence.

Her Chief arrived, crouching next to Jazz but making sure he didn't place an arm over the chair. He wanted to let her know they weren't here to make her feel trapped. "Hello, Jasmine, how are you feeling?" he asked gently.

"I'm scared and I want to see my little brother more than anything, but this needs to be done," she answered, looking comfortable in Chief Dawkson's presence. The man usually had that effect on people.

"Is there anything we can do for you? Is there someone we can call?"

Jazz gripped her cellphone tight and said, "Actually, give me a second." She unlocked her phone and dialed a number. "Have you–?" A pause and then Jazz looked relieved. "Oh, thank God. Vlad, just stay with him, wait is that Sam? Why is she yelling? Okay. Please try and be nice."

She ended the call and the two officers shared a look of poorly hidden interest. There were very few people with the name Vlad in Amity Park.

"Don't get him involved," she said, noticing their silence, "I don't know how much he's willing to give away yet, but Vlad is… Vlad is… well, I don't know what Vlad is but he's safe, and he's with Danny so I know he's going to be okay."

There was a lot buried there, but both Ann and the Chief let it be. Ann reached into her pocket and pulled out a white card. The title Robinson's Child Abuse Out Reach Program was on the front with a handwritten number on the back.

"Jazz," Ann asked, making sure her tone was soft, "can you tell me why your brother had this in his pocket?"

The teenager looked confused and took the white card to turn it over. She smiled at the number on the back. "Dash," she said, affectionately. "Of course."

The name sounded familiar. Next to their cubicle, a coworker who had returned only moments after they did said, "He was one of the boys we talked to; one of the ones next to the teacher and the kid."

The Chief nodded. "Has anyone tried to get in contact with the teacher?"

"Last I heard he went with Daniel Fenton in the ambulance."

Jazz's shoulder relaxed even farther. Ann imagined she was worried out of her mind right now. That only meant if she was choosing to be here rather than where she really wanted to be, it was important.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you." Jazz looked the Chief in his eyes and said, "I want Danny and I out of that house."

"I don't think anyone is going to fight you on that, Jasmine," he said, smiling.

"No, I mean, I want to be emancipated. I'll be eighteen in a couple of months, I can take care of Danny"– their thoughts must have shown on their faces because Jazz started to sound desperate – "we can't stay in that house anymore. Not just that, we can't call them, or I can't call them our parents."

The Chief moved to kneel directly in front of Jazz. "We know you're a smart girl, highest grade on the C.A.T. since it was created, but that doesn't mean we can legally allow you the right of guardianship over your brother."

"With probable concern and evidence, we can place you with another guardian. Foster care is also an option," Ann explained.

"I have an album," Jazz said.

"Pardon?"

"An album. I've been keeping track. Pictures, dates, notes, Danny's schoolwork, everything. They know about it, I've told them countless of times I was keeping track, but they just ignored it."

Ann paused. She could see even the Chief was taken back. "Jazz, what are you… are you saying whatever this is has been going on for years?"

Out of her backpack, the seventeen-year-old genius pulled a pink album filled to the brim with paper and pictures. "I've kept it on me ever since that stupid broadcast," she admitted, holding the thing between two clenched fists. "Not a single day has gone by in the past two weeks where I haven't been forced to add something."

She handed it to Ann to flip through. Delicately, Ann opened the first page to a stick figure of a redhaired person smiling back at her.

Jazz ignored the unease around her. "I started it when Danny was in Kindergarten. He drew me for Parents' Day."

In Kindergarten. Jazz would have been no older than eight or nine.

There were hundreds of papers, notes, and pictures she collected over the years. Her younger brother drew pictures and made projects that always had to do with his older sister. His work reflected a lack of parental figure other than Jazz. When Danny hit about ten years old, Jazz started pasting articles and research papers about the effects of neglect and abuse. She wrote lists – she had god damn lists – on how to counteract the damage her parents were causing by providing her little brother with love and comfort. There were reports of Danny running away, getting sick because the house was unsanitary, going hungry because they didn't have food.

She flipped the page and came across a picture of Danny Phantom smiling awkwardly at the camera in front of what looked like the Fenton portal.

Ann froze. Then, after a moment, she forced herself to close the book.

"I have all the proof you could ever need," Jazz begged, leaning her elbows on her knees and hiding her face in her hands. "Danny cannot stay in that house any longer."

The Chief looked like he was at a loss. Around them, the officers hadn't said a word, but continued to watch the situation unfold. Ann noticed the face of the person who worked next to her and saw nothing but shock. This was so much worse than they thought it was.

Ann needed to ask the question. She knew ever since she saw the kid sprout white hair that someone would need to ask the question.

Was Danny Fenton the way he was because of something his parents did?

(Did his parents kill him?)

There was shouting down the hall and the Chief reached for the gun on his belt. When the Fentons came around the corner, not even the press dared to approach them with the Chief casually aiming his gun, safety still on, in their direction.

"You were told to wait in the other room," he warned. Ann noticed he blocked Jazz from their view.

"You need to let us see him," Maddie Fenton said, sounding very small.

The Fentons looked, for lack of a better word, exhausted. They could barely stand on their feet. Ann hoped it was the guilt weighing them down like a fucking anvil.

The Chief obviously didn't want Jazz and her parents to interact, especially in front of the press like this. In order to keep them from influencing each other, they needed to be separated. Ann kept her eye on Jazz who sat in her chair with her shoulders tense. The defensiveness made her want to kick the Fentons where it hurt.

Officer Ann thought the worst part about all of this was the fact the Fentons really did care about their kids, when they remembered to care about them, at least. They were obviously distraught over what happened and probably knew exactly what they'd done and who their son was. Their entire world was falling apart at their feet.

Ann was more than happy to let it happen.

Jack Fenton noticed his daughter and his eyes brightened. "Jazzy-pants," he whispered.

Jazz looked like he punched her in the face.

The Chief moved between them again. The press was obviously interested because this was the first anyone had seen of the Fentons since the incident; how they reacted would make great news. "You need to wait in the other room until we're ready to speak with you. Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, we just want to sort this out."

"I can't wait," Maddie said. Her hands were shaking. "Danny, is Danny okay?"

"Ma'am, we don't know."

"But you can take us to him."

"I don't think that's a very good idea right now, Mrs. Fenton."

"He's my son," she said, repeating it over and over. She stepped forward, only to jerk back when the Chief flipped the safety. "He's my son. He's my son and you won't let me see him."

"Do you want to know how he died?" Jazz asked and the office went dead silent.

Breathing was suddenly too much for Ann and she let out a startled puff of air that sounded more like a wheeze than anything. Jazz didn't move, she stared past the Chief into the eyes of her parents and asked again, "Do you want to know how he died?"

No one said a word. Maddie looked stricken.

"Danny was worried because you shut down when the portal didn't work. He took Sam and Tucker to explore and leaned straight on the "on" button you put inside." Not once did Jazz take her eyes of her parents who began to fall apart.

"You're lucky the portal did something to him that didn't take him from us. Danny's alive, but I will forever blame you for being the ones who killed him."

Maddie burst into tears and clutched the side of her husband's suit. "We never would have – we never meant to… this wasn't – my baby boy, my poor baby."

"Don't act like you raised him, I did," Jazz finally screamed, rising to her feet. She stalked forward and shoved past the Chief. "I raised my little brother, I kissed his boo-boos, I tucked him in at night, I fed him, I clothed him, I helped with his school work, I held him when he cried, I was there waiting for him when he came home every single day.

You were never there, you were too busy in the basement. Do you know how big he smiles when he sees there's someone waiting for him? Or when I cook his favorite meal? Danny likes Mac N Cheese by the way, he has for the past eight years.

His first picture day in preschool was an absolute disaster because Billy Yen kept throwing sparkles in his hair. His last baby tooth fell out when he attached a piece of floss to one of his toy rockets and launched it into the sky. He still carries around the stuffed ghost you gave him when he was three because it reminds him of you. He wants to be an astronaut not because he likes space but because he loves the stars we used to watch together on top of the OP Center. His favorite color is blue because the sky has always felt like freedom. He was twelve the first time he asked about girls and I gave my baby brother, at the age of fourteen, the best damn birds and the bees talk available on this god damn earth. His first day of middle school he cried in the bathroom because he lost his favorite rocket ship sticker, so I ran to school to bring him another one. He likes flying because despite all the other amazing stuff he can do, flying is the closest he feels he will ever get to the stars because his grades are falling because he never gets sleep because he's always fighting because he died."

Jazz took a single breath in the utter silence of the lobby. She held their attention on the end of a very sharp hook.

"These past two years – these past two years – Danny started to pull away, started showing up with bruises, started losing sleep, started getting nightmares, and you did not notice. I did. I figured it out and I protected him from you.

Do you know what it did to him to have to listen to exactly how you would dissect the remains of a ghost? Or how much you hated him on principal? Do you know more than half of his nightmares are about his own family?"

Officer Ann was beside her in a second because Jazz had begun to cry at the stricken faces of Maddie and Jack Fenton, and really, no one should have to face that alone.

"I know you love us and that just hurts because you've always loved us, but please, please, please let us go. Let me take care of my brother, let me help him heal from this, let me find someone who can give us the time and distance to figure this out, and for the love of God let me see if either of us can even forgive you."

Jazz continued to cry, and Ann decided now was a good time to wrap her arms around her. Maturity did not mean someone was capable of handling stressful situations, and the teenager before her was so mature it was hard to realize she was a child. The Chief had long since dropped his gun, Maddie and Jack stood frozen, her coworkers hadn't added a single thing to their notebooks, and the press stayed in their corner.

The silence wasn't awkward, it was paralyzing.

Jazz's hiccups calmed down quickly. Ann wondered how long it had been since she last cried.

"I get it, you're good people – I know you are – but you're terrible parents and that's not okay," Jazz continued, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her face mirrored her parents' and she knew this was painful for both of them.

"I don't want you to go to jail, I just want Danny and I to have a better life. I love Danny, I love my little brother so much, but I lost my childhood because I had to take care of him and he lost his life because you couldn't take care of us." Jazz covered her face. "I'm tired. I am just so tired."

Ann made the decision and guided Jazz out the door. They passed the press, reporters watching them with wide eyes, they passed the other officers, they passed the Chief, and they passed the Fentons.

There was nothing anyone, not even the Fentons could say to fix this. Jazz had said everything she wanted to. It was about time she visited her brother.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Danny woke slowly.

Something hurt, and it hurt an awful lot, so he tried to hold onto that last bit of unconsciousness. He lost the battle with nature and opened his eyes.

He'd always heard in books that when people woke up the first thing they'd see was the blinding ceiling light. Danny didn't get that privilege. No, Danny got to see Vlad's face and so badly wanted to question if he was in hell.

Vlad jerked when Danny shifted. He blinked down at him and then yelled, "He's awake!"

Someone crashed into the open doorway in their haste to enter.

"Call a nurse," came Sam's voice, "and damnit, Tucker, watch out for doorways."

Tucker was in a hospital.

Danny was in a hospital.

"I'm in a hospital?" he asked, loudly, trying to sit up.

"No, this is a graveyard," Tucker said, jumping up on the bed. "Can't you tell by all the tomb stones and really old people hanging around?"

Vlad's glare set Tucker's hat on fire. Tucker put it out like it was a minor inconvenience.

"Danny," Jazz breathed, smile blinding as she shoved Tucker to the side to hug him. Danny looked down at her back in shock.

"Jazz? Jazz, what's going on? Why is Vlad here?" he asked.

Squeaky footsteps ran past their window then doubled back to peer inside. "Oh, thank God," Valerie said, steeping in and collapsing in a chair. "I swear, Danny, your name is cursed."

"My name?"

"All Dannys," Valerie continued, despite his bewilderedness, "are automatically troublemakers and I will have you know my child will be named Benjamin."

"I– o-okay?"

Jazz pulled back, placing her hands under his chin. The atmosphere felt light, but Jazz's gaze was heavy. "How are you feeling?"

If Danny was being completely honest, fucking confused would be a really accurate answer. Tucker and Sam stood by the left side of his bed while Vlad leaned on the wall by his right. Jazz sat comfortably on the bed with him and Valerie was in one of the many chairs that surrounded the room.

Almost subconsciously, Danny touched his chest. His heart raced, and he knew his veins lit up because the room gained a green glow. He ripped open his hospital gown to run over the course skin covering his ribcage.

"Don't touch it," Vlad said in a tone he had never used on him before and Danny would like to wake up now, please.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. There was a hole, or there had been. He was bleeding – he had bled – on Lancer and everyone was screaming. He dropped the card. Dash was going to be upset. There was a lady and then a man and then a lady and then a hard surface and then Vlad and it stopped hurting.

Danny was breathing so fast he began to choke.

"Move!" a human nurse said, and she approached him in a rush and he was breathing too fast and he was glowing.

He shoved her hard enough that she might have gone through the window if Vlad hadn't caught her. "Stop," Vlad said, but he wasn't talking to him. "It's the ectoplasm. He still thinks…"

Jazz blocked his line of sight. "Danny, just breathe. You're safe." His sister grabbed his hand, veins still bright green, and placed it over his heart.

(Thump, thump, thump.)

She smiled. "Feel that, little brother? You're alright."

His sister was okay, and he was okay, and his friends were okay, but everything was not okay.

"Jazz," Danny whispered, hands shaking. He let out another panicked breath and leaned forward to press his forehead against her shoulder. "Jazz. Jazz. Jazz."

His big sister made a noise and pulled him closer. "I know. I know."

"Jazz."

"I know."

"They shot me."

"…I know."

Danny did not cry. He sat there in his sister's arms with wide eyes and a dry throat. His parents had shot him. There had been a hole in his chest. He'd almost bled out on his English teacher because his parents shot him. "Lancer?"

"He left an hour ago to grab food."

"Dash? Mikey?"

"The police wanted statements from them. We haven't seen either since yesterday when they visited."

He didn't want to ask, but Danny felt tense, worried that he'd see orange or blue fly around the corner of the hallway and rush towards him to apologize for everything and try and make it right. "Mom and Dad?"

Danny regretted the question because the tension felt tangible. "It's handled, Danny," Jazz said, voice stiff.

He jerked in her arms and turned to Vlad. "We can't"– he choked, the C.A.T.'s flashing in his mind and His dark, sick laughter.

"I offered, but your sister was very adamant about not staying with me," Vlad answered. He didn't sound angry, but he didn't sound thrilled with it either. "That doesn't mean I can't be a financial provider for either of you."

Jazz sounded exasperated. "We'll talk about this later."

"Of course, my dear."

Danny looked over Jazz's shoulder and grabbed Tucker and Sam's hands. They squeezed back tightly and smiled at him. Tucker, the poor sap, tried to wipe his eyes. "Fuck you, Danny Fenton," he choked. "Don't you ever, ever, ever make me come into a hospital again."

Danny couldn't help his startled laughter.

Valerie hadn't moved from her spot on the chair. Danny slowly peeled back from Jazz and watched her. She wouldn't look up.

"Val?" Danny whispered, eyes growing wide as he realized he had glowed in front of her and some random nurse. "Oh my God." Not only had he glowed in front of Valerie and the nurse, in the left corner by the door stood two police officers he hadn't noticed in his panic.

"Hey, kid, good to see you looking alive," the man said with a grin. The female elbowed him in the ribs.

"Heh, alive," Tucker laughed. "Good one."

Danny gaped at him. "Tucker!"

It was Vlad who leaned against the bed and turned his attention. "You reverted to your ghost form in order to protect yourself, Daniel," he explained, looking back at the police officers. "There are really no more secrets left to give."

"Secrets?" Danny said, hysterically. "But you–?" Vlad nodded his head. "No way. No way you would do that."

"You were dying," he said, simply.

"And you didn't let me die?!"

"Danny!" Jazz cried.

By the door, Danny heard Valerie explain to the police officers, "They didn't really like each other before."

The woman rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Are you joking? There are only two people like them in the entire world and they hated each other?"

"For the record, Vlad used to be a gigantic dick," Tucker said.

"Used to?" Sam added in disbelief.

Danny stared at Vlad for a good minute. Vlad's face looked weird, less hard and edgy like he didn't plot world domination and killed babies during his free time. "I won't stop," he said, finally crossing his arms over his chest. "I know you hate it, but I won't stop. Especially not now."

Vlad raised a silver eyebrow. "I'm surprised you wish to continue heroics after everything that happened."

The police officers were right. Danny and Vlad really were the only Halfas – besides Danielle who he assumed his friends left out – on the planet. This was the man who knew exactly what it was like to count your breaths, hear your heartbeat, and feel like your skin didn't fit.

(Thump, thump, thump) – (Thump, thump, thump).

"Are you going to try and stop me?" he asked because even if Vlad said to, he wouldn't stop. Protecting Amity Park was everything to him.

"No," Vlad answered, and the wrinkles on his face deepened when he smiled. Vlad laid a hand on the back of Danny's head, pressing the teenager into his chest. "Never stop being a good person because of bad people, little badger. I dare say this world would be a far worse place without a glowing vigilante in tights defending everyone's honor."

This time, when Danny's chest hurt, it was the good kind of pain.

Lancer took that moment to walk in and gasp at Danny, almost dropping the food in his arms. "Mr. Fenton," he laughed, looking like world peace had been achieved and Danny held all the answers to the universe.

He rushed forward, set the food on the chair next to Valerie, and crushed Danny against him, replacing Vlad's position. Danny felt something settle within him and realized Lancer was the one holding him when he got shot.

"Lancer," Danny said, squeezing tighter when the man started to shake.

"Oh, Daniel," his teacher said, pressing his hands against Danny's back and curling his fingers into his shirt. "You were in my arms."

"It's okay," Danny forced out, hiding a smile into Lancer's shirt. "You were, uh, a bit too human to help there."

Lancer laughed. "I suppose that's true. I hope that you will allow me to make up for it. I don't suppose I make a good shield, but I can make a good guardian, at least for the time being."

Danny leaned back to blink up at him. Jazz was making encouraging gestures behind his back and the police officers gave her a look that said they didn't want her to influence his choice. Lancer, on the other hand, looked worried. Did he think he wasn't going to accept?

"Living with my teacher may be weird, sure, but the bar is set pretty low guardian wise," Danny encouraged, feeling shy.

"Well, damn," the male officer said.

A lot of people had cried these last two weeks, so much so that Danny was sure he'd be put off from crying ever again, but seeing his friends cry because they were laughing was the greatest feeling in the world.

He missed this feeling of being safe.

If this were a story, perhaps Danny would have been forced to reconcile with his parents. Maybe they would have met coincidently one day and screamed at each other or tried to fix the hurt each side felt. Maybe Danny would have had a lot left to say to them. Maybe Danny would have wanted them to pay and see them behind bars. Maybe Danny would have wanted to give them a second chance.

But this wasn't a story, Danny didn't have anything left to say to them, and the Fenton parents, despite paying for their neglect, wouldn't suffer in jail for their wrongdoings. There were no more secrets in Amity Park, which was pretty terrifying for the teenager whose past two years had centered around a secret identity.

At some point, you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not your life, and a whole new life waited for Danny behind the walls of the hospital, without Jack or Maddie Fenton in it.

If there was one thing Danny Fenton perfected since receiving his powers, it was how to pretend.

(And he no longer had to pretend his parents were good people).

o.O.o.O.o.O.o