Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Ghosts?"

"Indeed, Agent Aquato," Otto Mentalis said, and man Raz was never going to get tired of hearing that. It was getting close to a year with the Psychonauts now, but getting called Agent still made him a little giddy every time. "Or at least something the locals think are ghosts."

"Feh, hogwash and superstition," Ford grumped. "Ghost's aren't any more real than curses, Razputin. More likely than not, it's a vein of psitanium that got exposed giving people hallucinations."

"Most likely," Otto agreed. "Which still deserves looking into."

"Are you sure?" Raz asked, frowning. "In True Psychic Tales number--" he stopped, but it was too late.

Ford snorted and pulled down a jar from the shelf labelled 'TPT's Not Always True' . Raz grumbled and put a dollar in. "Fine," Ford said. " Sometimes when a person dies violently they can leave behind a psychic echo, but nothing substantial. Without a brain to anchor it a mind just isn't equipped to do real damage, and even that's rare enough. For as many ghost sightings as this town's had, it's more likely the psitanium thing."

Raz shrugged and accepted that. They knew what they were talking about, after all. "So where am I going?"

Agent Forsythe pressed a button, and the holographic globe zoomed in on the American Midwest. "A town called Amity Park, Illinois."

Raz's eyes lit up. "Oh, I've been there!" At the adults' surprise, he explained. "The Aquato Family Circus passed through there once, a few months before the whole thing with Coach. We got a pretty decent crowd, even. They called themselves 'Most Haunted Town in America.'" He looked to the side, a little sheepish. "I was, uh, starting to experiment more with my psychic powers by that point. Someone saw me levitating a few things and the local ghost hunters nearly tore the tent down trying to find the spirit."

Ford chuckled, but Forsythe tsked. "What happened?"

"...Well, we managed to convince them that it was just a circus trick, but Dad had us leave town pretty quick." He brightened. "Hey, maybe I can take the family with me and put on a show again! It'll be like going undercover as myself!"

"Actually," Otto started, "We don't plan on this being a particularly long mission. You should be in and out in a day."

"Oh. Okay."

"Now off you get, Raz," Ford said, shooing him away. "Sasha's getting the jet ready, but once you're there you'll be on your own." At Raz's look he smiled. "That's right. Your first (official) solo mission!"

The junior agent saluted. "I won't let you down sir!" And without further ado, he turned on his heel and ran out to the landing strip.

Once the door closed behind him, the three adults sagged in relief.

"I can't believe that worked," Otto said.

"Pfft. That kid'll believe anything," Ford mused. He rubbed his chin. "We'll have to work on that actually, but it's useful for now. Who's getting the cake?"

"Compton and Cassie are baking it themselves," Otto answered, pulling a clipboard into his hand and checking it off the list. "How about the presents?"

"All taken care of," Forsythe confirmed. "Donatella should be wrapping the last ones now. Bob and Helmut are on their way back from the Arctic, hopefully they'll get here in time."

"Oh, did they find--"

"They have, but Helmut's body is going to need some work before it's safe to resuscitate it. It doesn't look like we'll be able to see his face again just yet." Hollis hesitated. "Is it alright to send Aquato off alone? Yes I know he's accomplished a lot," she said when Ford opened his mouth, "but he's till only ten."

"Not for much longer. But it's fine. He's only chasing ghost stories," Ford said, waving his fingers dismissively. "Even if he does find one of them psychic echoes, they're harmless. Barely even notice other people. Doubt he will though. I ran the Psychonauts for twenty years and I never saw a 'ghost' but once. Now come on, we got some decorating to do. Raz is only gonna turn eleven once, after all."

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LATER

Raz stared at the vaguely humanoid pile of meat shambling down the street.

"...That doesn't look like an echo to me..."

Chapter Text

"You're sure you don't want to come with me, Sasha?"

The senior agent shook his head. "It's your mission, Raz. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on the jet."

"But won't you get bored waiting out here?" Raz asked, looking around. Agent Nein had parked the jet in a forest clearing just within the city limits.

"On the contrary." Sasha held up a book. "Milla's been trying to get me to read this series for ages. I figured I'd take the opportunity to finally take a look at it." He sat down and smiled. "Go on, Razputin, and good luck."

Raz nodded and exited.

The walk out of the woods into the town proper was eerily quiet... but the birds were probably just scared off by the jet, so Raz put it out of his mind.

"Right," he said to himself, cresting a hill and looking down over the town. "First thing I need to do is gather intel. So... I'll just ask around? Surely someone around here knows about ghosts..."

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

"Excuse me, can you tell me about the ghosts?"

"Not my job."

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

"Can you--"

"We don't want any!"

SLAM

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"Hi, my name is Raz, and I was wondering--"

"I already know where my soul's going, I see it every week."

"No, that's not--"

"Beat it, brat."

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

"Sure, I know about ghosts."

"Really?!" Whew, finally. Raz was beginning to suspect that being a child presented problems he hadn't previously considered. No one was taking him seriously!

The older black girl laughed, patting his head. "Yeah, I can tell you the most important thing anyone needs to know about dealing with ghosts."

"That would be great!" Raz said.

The teenager's cheerful face morphed into something serious. Haunted, you might say. "Stay away from ghosts."

"I--huh?" Raz leaned back, surprised at the sudden change. "But I was told ghosts are harmless--"

"Yeah? Well you got told wrong!" She held her arms up, anger seeping into her voice. "Ever since these ghosts have shown up my life has been crazy ! My dad lost his job, everyone's in danger every single day, that stupid ghost kid--" She paused and took a deep breath. "Sorry. I have... opinions about the whole thing."

"I can see that, Ms....?"

She looked at him suspiciously before shrugging. "Sure. Valerie Grey."

"My name is Razputin Aquato. Ms. Gr--"

"Is it really?"

"Yes. Ms. Grey, I'm here investigating the local ghost problem," Raz said, tapping his Psychonauts badge. "Anything you can tell me about the situation would be helpful."

Valerie glanced at the badge with no recognition. "Cute button, kid." Blowing air through her lips she rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, if you really want to know about the ghosts, go talk to the Fentons. They'll tell you everything . Heh."

"Okay! Where are they?"

"Can't miss them. They're in the house with the giant UFO-looking thing on top. Got their name on it too."

Raz smiled broadly, then attempted to school his expression. "Thank you, Ms. Grey. You've been very helpful to my investigation."

"Whatever you say, kid," Valerie said, smiling despite herself. She watched Raz run away and tilted her head. "I wonder if I should be worried about the grade-schooler running around unsupervised." Her watch started beeping. "Oops, guess I don't have time for that!" She ducked into the nearest alley. A moment later, a red flash went flying out.

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"Alright. Talk to the ghost experts, and then... Uh..." Raz blinked. "I guess I... investigate? Something? Huh. I don't think Agent Forsythe actually told me what I would be doing once I got here..." He snapped his fingers. "Right, right. I need to determine if it's a case of psitanium poisoning and find the source." He looked up. The Fenton Works building, as the sign proclaimed it to be, really did loom over the rest of the neighborhood. He kind of doubted it was up to code; it didn't look like it was properly supported, and it was overlooking several neighboring buildings...

It just looked generally unsafe. But then, the Motherlobe had floating platforms everywhere that would pose a danger if they ever ran out of power.

"I guess some things are just too cool to worry about safety."

He walked up the stoop to knock on the door, eyeing the silver vehicle on the curb appreciatively.

The instant his knuckles touched the wood, an alarm sounded inside. Red light flashed in the window and louds running could be heard.

" GHOST! GO GO GO! " someone shouted inside.

Raz dove to the side as the door flung itself open and the largest man Raz had ever seen in the real world charged out, followed by a much smaller woman, both wearing jumpsuits. Neither noticed him as they piled into the RV and then drove into the distance, tires squealing. This all happened in the space of three seconds. They didn't even close the door behind them.

Raz stared after them. "Oh. Them." He was wondering why the name 'Fenton' was familiar. They were the couple who nearly wrecked his family's circus. "Maybe I can find help elsewhere..."

"Ugh. Really, guys? That's not even the right way."

Raz looked up as a lanky teen peered out the door, looking exhausted. He frowned in the Fenton's direction, then Raz coughed and he looked down to see Raz sitting in the bushes.

"Oh he-heck. Did Dad knock you over on their way out?"

"I got out of the way in time." Raz picked himself up and the teen squinted at him.

"You look familiar. You go to the elementary?"

"Uh, no. I was with the circus that came through last year."

The teen's eyes widened, running through surprised, frightened, confused, then finally recognition. "Oh, the other circus! Not the Cirque--okay, yeah, I remember." He held his hand out and helped Raz back onto the stoop. "You guys back in town? I'm Danny, by the way."

"No, it's just me," Raz said, picking a leaf out of his hair.

Danny eyed the leaf, looking confused for some reason. He glanced at the bushes, then shook his head. "Anyway. What're you doing here?"

"Well, I'm investigating for the Psychonauts, and--"

Danny gasped.

Raz preened. "That's right, the Psychonauts! And I'm here to look into these rumors of... of..."

Danny wasn't paying attention to him, looking around worriedly before his gaze snapped to look in the opposite direction as where his parents had gone.

"Hey, look at the time," he said, talking quickly. "I gotta take care of something, but you can come back later I'm sureMomandDadwouldlovetohelp--"

He ran back inside slamming the door. Raz blinked, then pressed his ear to the door.

"...wait a minute, I can't leave a kid out there!"

Raz stepped back as the door opened again, Danny smiling nervously. "A-actually, why don't you wait inside? They'll be back soon, I'm sure."

He not-quite-pulled Raz inside and led him to the couch. "Okay, but maybe you can answer my--"

"Can't! Homework!" Danny shouted as he ran upstairs.

Raz stared after him, then sighed. "Man, I'm glad I never went to school." He looked around the room. It was all, oddly, in shades of blue-green. The walls were blue, the furniture was blue, what little he could see of the kitchen from here was almost green-yellow. "These people really like their primary colors. And is that a metal plate?"

Indeed, there was a metal plate just... bolted over the plaster on one wall. A picture frame was hanging from one of the bolts. Weird .

Well, he hardly had room to judge other people's decorating. He was in and out of his room at the Motherlobe so often he still hadn't decorated it in months.

Oh, hello. There was an open door with a staircase leading down. A sign overhead read "lab." Maybe he could find some useful information; after all, Sasha and Dr. Mentalis' labs were always full of useful things.

He stood and was about to make his way downstairs when he felt... something... in the back of his mind. Razputin had been getting lots of practice at the various psychic powers, including the most basic ones like sensing emotions. He'd gotten to the point that he could tell where Lili, Sasha and Milla were anywhere in the Motherlobe, and he could tell most of the interns apart without having to see them.

This was... kind of a pressure, but also muted? It felt like anger, but kind of aimless yet focused all at once... It was kind of disorienting actually, so Raz closed his mental walls to block it out. Then he went in the direction he'd felt it coming from and looked out the window.

...............................

Raz stared at the vaguely humanoid pile of meat shambling down the street.

It had glowing green eyes, pieces of miscellaneous meat floated in the air orbiting around it, flying out of open windows and doors and out of one unfortunate hot dog stand, whose vendor started weeping.

Raz ran outside, and it was pandemonium. People were running, cars abandoned.

The Meat Monster roared something incomprehensible, but still clearly meant to be words. The hot dog vendor wailed, holding onto a string of hotdogs and trying vainly to keep it from flying into the monster's mass.

"Lousy ghosts!" he shouted, despair flipping to anger. "That's it! I'm moving to Tremorton!"

Raz boggled. " That's a--"

"Ghost!" some woman screamed as she ran by.

The junior Agent stared. He idly watched as a rancid piece of ham floated slowly out of the Fenton Works building only to be rejected by the meat monster.

"...that doesn't look like an echo to me..."

Chapter Text

The book was surprisingly engrossing. Sasha wasn't typically interested in fantasy, but this was almost more science fiction despite the prevalence of elves and magic. He even found himself identifying with the centaur scientist. Sasha hoped he'd be a more important character as the book went on. The child genius was a fascinating character, and Sasha was torn between rooting for him and wanting to see him brought to justice.

This was nice. It was so rare that he had the chance to sit down and enjoy a good book. He really shouldn't have resisted Milla's recommendations for so long. Clearly, being meant for children didn't mean they weren't worthwhile. Perhaps he should return the favor and give her one of his favorites. Asimov's Norby: Robot For Hire , perhaps? He bet she'd like that.

The jet's console beeped and Sasha marked his place before answering.

"Agent Nein reporting."

"Alright, Sasha darling, we're nearly ready with all the decorations!" Milla's voice said cheerfully. "We should be ready by the time you get back."

Sasha stood, stretching. "Very well then. I'll go collect him. I'll let you know when we're close."

He turned the comm off and strode out of the jet, setting the alarm as he left.

Reaching out with his mind, he found Raz's signature fairly easily. The boy felt... he felt anxious? Stressed? Reading Razputin's mind had only barely gotten easier with familiarity, and the distance was not helping. It almost felt like he was deliberately blocking his mind off...

Whatever it was, he was certain it would hold until Sasha found him. Raz could take care of himself.

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

Meat.

It had been months, and Raz had thought he'd done pretty well. He didn't gag when he ate hot dogs anymore, he was (usually) able to enjoy steak without imagining writhing, and last month he and Coach were on a mission that took them through a butcher shop and neither of them freaked out even for a moment.

Raz thought he was over the Meat Circus, but apparently he wasn't because his feet felt glued to the ground as the meat monster meandered in his direction, senselessly knocking over street lights and cars. He watched in fascinated horror as a more and more meat streamed in from the surrounding houses. A man walked around the corner holding a sandwich, had the ham slip out from the bread and race towards the mass, and turn around to hurry away.

Raz... he had to do something, right? But what could he do against that ? Did he... did he cook the meat? His range with pyrokinesis still wasn't very good, and he didn't want to get any closer. But... he was a Psychonaut! A giant monster was kind of outside his usual wheelhouse (in the real world anyway) but if this was a ghost like that woman shouted, this was technically part of his mission.

...Maybe he could summon his archetype and get him to fight it instead...

The monster roared, and suddenly a flash of black and white came from the top of the Fenton Works building and started flying circles around it.

"What the--"

"Hey!" The blur stopped, resolving into a... teenager with white hair and a jumpsuit, floating in the air. Another psychic? He cupped his hands to shout. "I thought the Truce lasted until after New Years!"

The monster roared, but more alarmingly it then spoke. "City Hall cancelled the annual New Years Barbeque! It's a tradition! "

"Seriously? They cancelled because you crashed it last year!" the teen retorted.

"They switched to gas grills! Charcoal produces a better flavor! " It--she? The voice almost sounded feminine--swiped at him suddenly and the teen didn't quite manage to get out the way in time, the glancing blow sending him spinning.

Raz blinked. The monster was mad about a barbeque? Weird. Still, at least this situation seemed taken care of. Maybe Raz wouldn't have to deal with the meat--

The meat ghost's left arm dissolved into a mass of sausage links, each whipping around like tentacles, and swung the arm at the teen. He was ensnared, not able to get out of the way when there was meat in every direction, and then she threw him into the ground.

He skidded across the street, flipping end over end. Raz jumped to the side, finally able to move again, to get out of the way as the teen crashed in the mailbox next to him.

He rubbed his head. "Ergh... Hate when she does that."

"Are you okay?!" Raz asked worriedly.

The teen's head jerked as he noticed Raz standing there. "Wha--I though I told you to wait--get out of here, kid!"

Raz frowned. "But I can help! Does cooking the meat do anything?"

"Uh, I don't think so?" the teen said, confused. Raz frowned. His voice was familiar... The teen shook his head. "It's not like we have a big enough microwa-- get out of here! "

With that, the teen got to his feet and shot back into the air. Raz watched him punch the ghost, and he must have been strong because he actually knocked its--her--head to the side, but she didn't seem to be much more than annoyed by it. Several identifiable pieces of meat were knocked off, but the moment they touched the ground they started squirming back towards the main mass.

Gross. Also, odd. Why weren't they flying now? Was the ghost too focused on fighting to pull the meat back quickly?

The fight seemed stalemated at the moment, so Raz took a moment to think. The teen--Raz only just noticed he was glowing, what was that about?--was just punching the monster, and all that meat was absorbing the blows. Hey wait, the monster was glowing too--no, focus!

"Well," he said out loud. "What tools do I have for finding out a foe's weakness?" Clairvoyance was usually useful. Could it work on a ghost?

Only one way to find out.

Raz carefully opened up his mental walls, wincing as that strange feeling came back. Now that it was so close, he could tell it was coming from the ghost, but that was promising. If it could affect him, it stood to reason he could affect it right back. Reaching out, he pictured placing his astral hand on the back of the monster's head--ugh, he could feel the meat--and then sinking it behind its eyes.

"Oh wow that's a heck of a headache," Raz said, gritting his teeth. It was like being in PSY King's mind for the first time again. Disorienting, confused... It was like wearing the wrong prescription of glasses. It was either too sharp or too blurry--in fact it was somehow both.

In fact it reminded him of something.

Another mission, one he'd gone on with Milla to investigate a TV producer who'd been suspected of being a psychic stealing ideas from writers by pulling them directly out of their heads. Inside the man's mind, there was a place where there was a big television representing how he read minds. In order to focus on specific memories of him doing so, Raz had had to tune the antennae. Once he caught on that they were there, he'd started tuning them himself to try and trap them.

Trying to connect to the ghost's mind felt a lot like that, like he was... tuned in at the wrong frequency.

With that in mind, Raz pictured turning the dial on a radio, and then everything snapped into place, just in time to get a first-person view of getting punched in between the eyes.

Raz winced, but then focused. Bizarrely, the ghost saw the world in shades of purple, green, blue and gray. A red-bricked building Raz could see in the corner of her vision was a light purple, and... Oh, interesting. On the ground around the ghost, meat that had been knocked off of it was outlined in bright green.

"So she's aware of all the meat around her, that makes sense," Raz mused, but then he noticed one bit was outlined in red instead. "Is that... is that the rancid bologna from before?" It wasn't moving. And the monster was avoiding stepping on or near it.

Interesting.

The teen, who the ghost saw as a starving child, hit it again, and Raz let himself get knocked out of its head. "So maybe... if the food is inedible, the monster can't use it?"

He didn't need to cook the meat. He needed to scorch it.

He took a step forward, carefully avoiding the monster's legs and the teen's lasers--because that was apparently a thing he could do, never seen a green psi-blast before--and focused on heat. Heat and fire, and the monster's leg.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and Raz was startled out of his concentration.

"What are you doing here?!" some goth girl asked, trying to pull him away from the fight. "It's too dangerous, where are your parents?!"

"Somewhere in Kentucky, now let me focus! I'm trying to help," Raz said, shaking her off.

The girl scoffed. "Kid, It's cool you're a fan, but Phantom can handle himself. He's fought this ghost before and you'll just get in the--"

The monster's leg burst into flame, eliciting a startled scream from the ghost. She tried to pat it out while the teen--Phantom, apparently--broke off, startled. Then Raz lit her arm on fire too. The mostly-uncooked meat hissed and snapped as it cooked.

Raz was vaguely aware of the girl recoiling in shock, and of a black teen emerging from a nearby alley, but he kept his focus on the fire.

"Ooh, something smells good !" the newcomer declared.

Raz put more power into it, and several hot dogs in the ghost's mass burst. The meat began to blacken.

"NOOOOOO!" the ghost said as clumps of ruined meat fell off of it, losing the glow as they did.

"No, the meat!"

"Can it, Tucker!"

"Canned meat is bad for you!" the ghost snapped, noticing them. Her glowing eyes focuses on Raz, who lowered his hand and tried to look like he had nothing to do with it. She scowled and held up a hand to pound him, but Phantom restrained her, regaining her attention. She tried to twist and smack him, but forgot her other hand was half-burned away and whiffed. Snarling, she took a moment to redistribute her mass, leaving Raz to set her on fire again. "How dare you! Don't you know that you're wasting food?!"

Raz shrugged. "You're walking on the ground . I wouldn't have eaten any of that anyway, the streets are filthy."

The ghost blinked, as though that had never occurred to her before. She lifted one leg and made a face at the pebbles and bits of leaves stuck to the bottom of her foot.

Phantom took advantage of the moment's distraction and blasted her again. Now that she was missing so much meat, some of the impact got through.

Raz sighed, trying to fight a headache. He'd pushed harder than normal and now he was paying for it.

"Dude, what even was that? Are you a ghost too?" the black teen asked.

Raz blinked, looking at him. "Do I look like a ghost to you?"

He shrugged. "Ghosts look like a lot of things--look out!"

All three of them dove out of the way as one laser blast cut the meat ghost's arm off and it landed where they had been standing. Raz, unfortunately, dove towards the fight and so got swept up in the tide of meat as it tried to rejoin the main mass.

The ghost looked surprised to find itself holding him when its arm came back, then smiled nastily. "Well well well, if it isn't the arsonist . I'd like to see you spoil your dinner now!" Then the smile turned more genuine. "Would you like a cookie, little boy?"

Raz looked at the offered treat, held between meaty, wet fingers. "Uh... I don't want to spoil my dinner?"

"Then perish!"

“But you just said--!”

Another blast of energy from Phantom splatted the monster's head, sending it burbling in protest.

A second, red blast cut its arm off again, and Raz was lowered to the ground in a much friendlier grip.

Sasha's telekinesis set Raz down as the senior agent sighed. "Razputin, how do you get into these messes?"

"I didn't have anything to do with this, Sasha! It just happened!"

Sasha made a sound of acknowledgement, then focused on the monster in the process of reforming. Phantom was attempting to dig into the meat and pull something out. "A most unusual application of telekinesis, this," he noted. "Whoever this psychic is they must be even more obsessed with meat than Oleander was."

"Sasha, no, that's a ghost!" Raz said.

He looked down at Raz, one eyebrow quirked. "This is hardly anything like a psychic echo, Raz."

"That's what I said, but--"

Phantom succeeded in finding whatever he was digging for and grinned.

"DON'T YOU DARE--"

He let loose one big blast that knocked something out of the center of the mass, and without it the meat all collapsed into one disgusting pile.

Raz and Sasha both blinked in confusion at the older, plump woman who was floating in mid air. More importantly, they were taking in the red eyes and phosphorescent green skin. She growled at all of them.

"There are too many cooks in this kitchen! " With that said, she turned see-through and flew through the nearest wall.

"Oh no you don't!" Phantom flew after her, passing through a closed window without shattering it.

Sasha stared. He removed his glasses and inspected them, as though they had betrayed him. "I... am unaware of any psychic power that grants intangibility."

Raz folded his arms. "Those were ghosts. Both of them, apparently."

Sasha processed that, for long enough that Raz began to worry that he'd broken. Then he hung his head and sighed. "I'm going to have to make a call for backup. I'm going to have to explain this."

"Uh..."

Both of the agents looked over to see the two teens still standing there, focused on Sasha. "Yes, can I help you?"

They exchanged a look before the boy cleared his throat. "Are you a ghost?"

"Of course he is, Tucker, he's got green skin!" the girl said.

"I am not, what does my skin color have to do with--"

The RV Raz had seen the Fentons drive off suddenly came back around the corner, screaming to a stop on the curb.

"I have an eye on the target!" The large orange man jumped out of the driver's seat and shouldered a massive silver... well, it wasn't clear what it was but it was shaped like a gun. "Eat ectoplasm, ghost!"

Green goop splattered Sasha, knocking his glasses off and extinguishing his cigarette. Nothing else happened.

There was an awkward silence as the man checked his weapon, confused. "Weird. That was supposed to make any ghost so bloated and full that they fell unconscious."

Sasha sighed. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, brushed the goop off, and relit it with a thought. Then pulled a second pair of glasses out of his coat pocket.

This was not at all how he expected his day to go.

Chapter Text

“I’m terribly sorry about the confusion, Mr. Nein,” Mrs. Fenton said. She handed him and Raz each a cup of hot cocoa.

Raz accepted his cup eagerly. He wasn’t as bothered by the cold as most, but he’d never say no to chocolate.

“It’s of no consequence,” Sasha said, adjusting his glasses. He set his mug directly on the coffee table, still reading the papers in front of him. “I have been through much worse than merely being slimed. It isn’t even the first time…”

Sasha grunted when the man who insisted they call him Jack patted him on the back. Considering Jack’s hands were nearly the size of Sasha’s torso, the smaller man bent double from the force of it, nearly losing his grip on the documents.

“You might want to get some sun, Nein! It’s no wonder I thought you were a ghost, what with that deathly pallor!” Jack grinned.

“I am of more use in my lab.”

“Oh no, I get you! But you have to make time for the sun; you invent things too?”

“On occasion--”

“Then you have to get out there and do some field-testing! Best way to get a tan.”

Raz really wanted to ask them about the jumpsuits. Mrs. Fenton’s teal was fine, but that traffic-cone orange was an eyesore… He was careful not to think that too loudly though. It would be rude to accidentally broadcast it.

A snort drew his attention to one of the teens, who’d come into the Fenton’s home with them. The girl, named Sam, smirked and leaned over to whisper. 

“I know, right?”

Raz did not. “What?”

“The orange jumpsuit. We’ve tried to convince him to at least go for a darker shade, but he won’t budge.” Sam shook her head. “I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen him in anything else. He wore a tie once, but it was just over his usual outfit.”

Raz eyed the large man again, who was standing just slightly within Sasha’s personal bubble. “...He at least has more than one, right?”

The black teen, Tucker, hummed. “You know, I’ve never asked? He has to, right?”

Raz shuddered, taking a sip of his cocoa to try and take his mind off that mental image.

…

He smacked his lips. “This is… kind of an odd flavor. Kind of minty?”

Tucker frowned and sniffed his own mug. “Ooh. Might want to set that aside, I think some ectoplasm got into these.”

Raz’s eyes widened. “What?!”

The adults looked over at the outburst, but Sam must have waved them off because they went back to their talk.

“Don’t worry, kid, one sip’s not going to hurt you. Ectoplasm is totally safe in small doses,” she explained.

“It has to be,” Tucker chimed in. He shrugged and continued drinking. “You can’t get away from the stuff around here.”

“I must say, Dr. Fenton--both of you,” Sasha said when Jack and Maddie both looked up. “This is… fascinating.” He waved the sheaf of papers. “I almost can’t believe I’ve never heard of your ghosts before. Ectoplasm and post-human consciousness. I had thought a mind couldn’t be supported without a brain, but I don’t know if we ever considered a new medium could sustain it just as well.”

Maddie smiled. “Well, not just as well. Ghosts are barely sentient. They have the memories of former humans, but the vast majority are trapped in old patterns of behavior.”

“Nevertheless. This could be a boon to my field.” Sasha glanced over the research paper again, looking at the date. “And this is from years ago! Why haven’t I heard of this?”

Jack frowned. “I’m not sure, to be honest. We publish the papers and nothing comes of it. We don’t even get letters from universities telling us to stop sending letters anymore!”

Maddie rolled her eyes. “I suspect , though I don’t have proof, that the GIW are blocking information about ghosts from reaching the wider populace.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Sasha said. “The Ghost Investigation Wing is a laughingstock. After all, they spend millions hunting fairy tales when they could be chasing real… ah.” He considered that for a moment. “I see. Well, that’s a thought for later.”

“What is your field by the way, Mr. Nein?” Maddie asked. “Or is it Dr . Nein?”

“Either is fine. I am a… psychiatrist, of sorts.”

Jack beamed. “Are you now? I should introduce you to our daughter, she’d love to talk shop!”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Sasha answered, noncommittal. “So, this portal--”

Sasha?

Sasha and Raz both perked up. The Fentons looked confused, while Tucker and Sam looked around, worried.

Sasha darling, where are you? I was expecting you to call half an hour ago.

“Excuse me, I have a call,” Sasha said, standing. “Wait here, Razputin.”

He stood and walked into the next room. The Fentons shrugged and fell into a quieter conversation.

Raz felt himself being watched, and he turned to see the two teens watching him.

“...what?”

“Dude, is that actually your name?” Tucker asked.

“Yes? Why, what’s wrong with it?” Raz said, slightly defensive.

“Wrong? Your name is Razputin Aquato . That’s amazing!”

Raz rubbed the back of his head. “I prefer Raz, please…” A thought occurred to him. “Oh hey, do you know what the deal with that thing before was?”

The teens looked at each other. “The thing?”

“With the ghost, and everything!”

“If you want to talk about ghosts, you should talk to the Fentons,” Sam said. It sounded almost automatic.

“They didn’t show up until it was over,” Raz insisted. “What was with the meat monster? Why meat? And what about that other teenager? You called him Phantom?”

“Phantom?!” Jack yelled.

The kids jumped when the man suddenly loomed over them.

“Phantom was there?! Why didn’t you kids say anything?”

“We didn’t exactly get a ch--” Tucker began, but Raz talked over him.

“You know about him? He seemed pretty cool, saving everyone from the monster.”

Maddie scoffed. “‘Saving.’” She shook her head and gave Raz that sweet smile that told him she was about to condescend to him. “Mr. Aquato, Phantom is a ghost, and ghosts aren’t ‘cool’ or ‘heroic.’ You’d best steer clear of him.”

“We’ll take care of that ghost!” Jack declared. “Once we finally catch him.”

Raz blinked. “So… he’s not a psychic?”

Maddie laughed. “Oh sweetie. Psychics aren’t real.”

There was a sound, and everyone turned to see Sasha standing in the doorway, having dropped the papers.

“Excuse me, I can’t possibly have heard you correctly,” he said dully. “Did you just say psychics aren’t real?”

“Of course they aren’t,” Maddie said. “There’s just no proof that the human mind can produce that kind of power, and if it could the brain wouldn’t be able to handle the strain. Ghosts, now, those are much more believable by comparison.”

Sasha stared at her for a long moment.

...Sasha?

“Excuse me, Milla, I need to call you back.” Sasha held his hand out and the papers flew back into his hand from the ground. “Someone is wrong about psychics , and I aim to correct it.”

The Fentons stared at the papers in his hand. Jack slowly lifted an ecto-gun into view.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sasha said.

Raz felt a poke against his mind, and he turned to see a lanky teen coming up the stairs from the basement. It was the same guy who’d let Raz in earlier before the meat thing.

“Uh…” he said, taking the situation in. “What did I just walk into?”

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

Milla frowned to herself. That didn’t sound good. “Oh no… that’s the tone Sasha uses when he’s found a new project …”

“Vodello, what’s wrong?” Hollis asked. “Where are Razputin and Nein?”

Milla shook her head. “You won’t believe me if I tell you…”

“Try me.”

“Let me guess,” Ford said, rolling his eyes. “Raz has stumbled into yet another massive conspiracy. Or better yet, he found a real ghost.”

Milla was silent.

Ford blinked. “No. No, he didn’t, because ghosts aren’t real.”

“...Sasha seemed convinced,” Milla said quietly.

Ford looked to the ground. “...damn kid needs to stop shaking my worldview, I’m too old for this to keep happening to me.” He snapped his fingers. “Or better yet, I bet they ran into a cache of Psitanium after all and got all bamboozled. Guess we gotta go pick’em up.”

He strode off, muttering to himself.

Hollis and Milla watched him go, awkwardly.

“So,” Milla said. “Do we need to move the party to them, or wait, or what do we do?”

Hollis took a deep breath. “...I’m not as optimistic as Agent Cruller. I doubt they found ghosts, but knowing Raz he had to have found something . The party’s probably a bust.”

Milla looked over her shoulder at the interns’ classroom, where streamers and psy-based decorations were everywhere and people milled around waiting for the birthday boy to show up. Oleander kept sending hungry looks at the cake.

“Of course, someone’s going to have to tell everyone,” Hollis continued. “Milla, would you--” She turned to find the Agent nowhere in sight. “Milla!”

Her shout drew everyone’s attention. She sighed and drew herself up to be as dignified as possible.

“Great, leave me with the dirty work as usual. Bad news everyone!”

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

The Lunch Lady grumbled to herself, wiping some dust off of her apron.

“Would it kill that brat to clean the thermos out every now and then? That’s not sanitary, someone could get sick! How dare he treat his food storage like that! ” She already had an idea of what to complain about next time they fought.

“My Lady!”

Lunch Lady’s eyes lit up and she turned. “Boxy!” She pulled the man into a hug. “Are you on your way out, dear?”

“I am!” he declared. “The world shall taste my corrugated terror! ” He paused. “Are you alright, Lunch? The ghost child didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No more than normal…” She scowled. “You might want to wait a bit longer, though. Phantom has some new helpers, I think. That brat burnt my meat to a crisp! ”

“A ghost with fire powers?” the Box Ghost asked. His eyes widened. “My boxes cannot handle fire! It is I who am doomed! Wait no, the only ghost who goes out the portal with fire powers is Ember, and she hates the ghost child.”

“Not a ghost. A little brat . I don’t know how he did it, but he set me on fire with his mind.”

The Box Ghost scowled. “...That sounds familiar to me, in some way I do not know…” He shook himself, flying so that he was a head taller than the Lunch Lady. “Fear not , my Lady Lunch, for I, The Box Ghost! Shall avenge you and your barbeque! No weird child shall stand in my way!”

Lunch smiled. “Aw, you’re sweet. Would you care for a slice of pie?”

“Ooh, what flavor?”

Chapter Text

Danny wasn’t entirely certain what was going on. The day started normally enough. He woke up around 2 AM to deal with an ectopus coming through the portal. That was taken care of in less than a minute, but since they usually came in pairs, Danny spent about half an hour looking for its partner. Figures it would be hiding in his room, but apparently it wasn’t aware of his ghost sense and so he wasn’t as off guard as it thought he would be.

After that, it was about three, so Danny laid back down for three more hours until he was woken up by the Fenton Ghost Alarm after Dad found a puddle of ectoplasm from the fight still on the floor of the lab.

Given that it was a Saturday, Danny tried in vain to get back to sleep for another two hours before finally giving up and getting up for breakfast at 7:30 and managing to eat his pancakes before the ecto-contaminated sausages got to them.

A perfectly normal morning.

Things went as usual until lunch, when Danny suddenly got that tell-tale chill that a ghost was nearby. It was concerning, and not a little bit aggravating, since he’d been told that the Christmas truce extended through January 5th this year. The ectopuses, fine, they were barely a step above animals, but it was rare that more than one animal attack happened in a day, so who…?

Well, that was when the day got a little weird. Danny’s parents suited up when they got a ghost alert and went roaring off in the wrong direction, fine, normal, but then there was that scrawny eight-year-old standing at the door. Children did not come to FentonWorks unattended, not after the edict. It was even weirder that he turned out to be from that Aquatic Circus or whatever it was called.

...Actually, it probably made sense since the Fentons ruined their show last time. They might have wanted to make sure they wouldn’t do it again… But why send the kid?

Danny’s ghost sense went off again, and he pulled the kid inside for safekeeping while he went off to fight… the Lunch Lady.

Danny hated fighting the Lunch Lady. She wasn’t the worst of his enemies, she could even be talked down sometimes, but man was she gross. Danny swore he could feel the grease through his gloves.

Anyway, things went as usual… right up until the circus kid came out of nowhere and set her on fire with his mind. And then a green man fired a laser from his forehead.

And now that man was talking shop with his parents.

Mom wasn’t having any of it. “But the human brain can’t support that kind of activity! Not for very long at least. And don’t give me that nonsense about using 100% of the brain.”

Dr. Nein waved her off. “Of course it’s nonsense. We use one hundred and ten .” He paused. “That was a joke. The actual source of psychic activity is a semi-rare mutation, forming a small, pseudo-lobe between the two hemispheres--here, this is a scan of my own brain.” He pulled an x-ray out of his coat pocket and handed two copies to Mom and Dad.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “...You just carry this around with you?”

“Yes.”

“...Alrighty then.” Dad peered at it. “I’m not a neuroscientist--I’m honestly an engineer more than anything--but I’ve seen enough brains in Jazzy’s textbooks to know that something looks off.”

“Yes, if you look here--” Nein pointed out a specific spot. Danny couldn’t see from where he was sitting, but Dad looked slightly nauseous.

Mom rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine, you have an anomalous structure in your brain. I still don’t see proof that it grants you psychic powers.”

Nein growled. “If you give me time, I can set up a miniature CAT scan and you’ll see that part of the brain light up when I use my powers.”

“Your alleged powers.”

Nein pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and held it in front of his face. Danny blinked, and then it was burning away.

“Alleged, you say?”

Mom swatted it out of his hand. “Do not smoke in my house.”

“Mads, come on, he clearly just used pyrokinesis--”

Tucker whistled, pulling Danny’s attention away from the conversation. “Man, dude, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your mom this mad.”

“I know, right? She--” Danny stifled a yawn. “She really doesn’t like the idea of psychics.”

“Weird,” the circus kid said.

Danny turned to look at him. The kid was playing with something in his hands. And where did he get those headphones? The kid fiddled with a knob on the device, and then waved it around a bit.

“Uh… Roz, was it?”

“Raz.”

“Right… What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for stray thoughts… I thought I heard murmuring, and wow was I right! There’s so many!” Raz fiddled with it again, and then his head snapped to the side, his eyes locked on something.

Sam twitched. Danny figured she must have been reacting to the sudden movement, and he could relate.

Raz hopped out of his seat and put the device away… somewhere. They just sort of floated into his backpack. Then he held one hand to his temple and the other out in front of him.

And then he zipped up to float in midair, about six feet off the ground.

“You guys have really tall ceilings, you know that?” Raz noted. He zipped again, stopping next to the ceiling fan. “Hey, there’s something up here!”

His voice alerted the adults, and Mom made a strangled sound. “What on earth--?!”

“Careful, Razputin! Those fans get awfully dusty!” Nein called.

Raz fiddled with something up there, then dropped to the floor fifteen feet below. Danny and his Mom both made a move to try and catch him, but then Raz held one arm up and just…

...Stopped in midair.

Danny squinted. He could almost make out something that looked like a balloon.

“Well done, Raz. Your levitation ball is nearly invisible. Not much longer before Milla can start teaching you the more advanced techniques.” Nein frowned, then his eyes widened behind his shades. “Oh God, Milla. I cut her off.” He let his head fall into his hands and groaned.

Dad clapped a hand on his back. “Better call her back then, buddy! But hurry, I’ve got a million questions about what your boy there just did--yes?” he asked as Raz came up to him.

“I found this stuck to the fan blade.” The kid held up a card and Dad’s face lit up.

“A Psy-card? Out here?” Nein wondered.

“I don’t know what a Psy-card is! No, this is one of my Ghost Cards!” Jack took it and wiped the dust off it to reveal a crudely-drawn picture of Skulker. “I figured a while back that since the public was starting to get into ghosts, they should be more aware of them and the dangers they can bring! And then I thought it would be neat to make them collectable trading cards.” He turned it over in his hands. “This is one of my early ones. I actually know most of their names now. This one’s Skull-Face, right?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “ Skulker , Mr. Fenton. He only shouts his name every time he appears.”

“Oh. I’ll have to make an edit for the next batch.” He scratched his head. “How’d it get up there, though… Eh, no matter. Here, kid!” He handed it back to Raz. “Could be a collector’s item one day!”

Danny thought that was unlikely.

“Jack, we have more important things to do than make trading cards,” Mom said, fondly.

“Right! So what was that?”

The discussion started up again, this time pulling Raz into it as well.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Sam,” Tucker noted. It was true, they hadn’t said much. In fact, Sam had spent a lot of time focused on the two ‘psychics.’

She glanced at him. “I’m just… trying to come to terms with a major shift in reality. I just can’t believe the Psychonauts are real.”

“The who-what now?” Danny raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll have to show you later, but my dad’s secretly a huge nerd who collects comic books--”

“And you never told us?” Tucker said, betrayed.

“Hush, you. He hates anyone touching his mint-condition items, and I know you too well, Tucker , to let you near them.”

“...Fair.”

“Anyway, he’s got a series called True Psychic Tales and it’s actually pretty cool. I grew up reading the things, and that guy,” she pointed at Nein, “appears in a lot of them.”

“What, for real?” Danny gave the guy a closer look. He didn’t look like a comic book superhero. “Is it, like, a popular series?”

“Dad always has to get them online. No one in town sells them. Trust me, I’ve looked.” Sam scowled. “Makes it really hard to get new copies. I’m like ten issues behind. Which might be important, now, since apparently they’re real .”

“Who’s real?”

They turned their heads to see Jazz coming down the stairs, looking groggy.

“Oh hey Jazz. You’re up late,” Danny noted. Tucker and Sam greeted her too.

“I was up studying late last night.” More quietly, she added, “I didn’t go to sleep until after you beat up those ghosts. So what’s going on?” 

“Studying?” Tucker made a face. “Jazz, it’s Christmas break.”

“Yes, and?” She looked over at the ongoing conversation and gasped. “Oh my gosh, is that Sasha Nein?!”

“Sasha?” Tucker blinked. “His name is Sasha? Do all psychics have weird names?”

“Wait, Jazz, you know who he--and she’s gone.” Danny watched with half-lidded eyes as Jazz went over to talk to them. “I didn’t think she read comics.”

“No, it makes sense,” Sam said, thoughtful. “She wants to be a psychiatrist, right? Of course she knows about the Psychonauts.”

“Then why haven’t I heard of them?” Danny asked, getting frustrated. “Jazz talks about her studies all the time.”

Tucker raised an eyebrow. “...And you listen to her?”

“...Well, it’s not completely boring--” Danny was saved from having to defend himself when he shuddered and gasped. “What, really? Again ?”

“Three in one day? Unlucky,” Sam said. “Go on, we’ll cover for you if they ask.”

Danny groaned and stood up, joints popping. “Can’t believe this. Hopefully I’ll be right back…”

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

Jack beamed. “Jazz! I was wondering where you were!” He pulled the girl close. “Dr. Nein, let me introduce you to my amazing daughter, Jasmine!”

“Charmed.”

“Oh gosh. Dr. Nein, I am such a huge fan of your work.”

Sasha took in her star-struck look and smirked. It wasn’t too dissimilar to Raz’s first impression. Almost nostalgic, honestly. “Oh yes?”

There was a sudden chill in the air, and Sasha looked over to the teenagers in time to see a blue wisp come from the Fenton’s son’s mouth. He hurried outside soon after, and as he left so did the chill.

Curious.

“Jazz, you know this man?” Maddie asked, dubious.

“Are you kidding?” Jasmine gasped. “Dr. Nein is famous! In psychiatric circles, anyway. I’ve cut out at least five of his articles from Brain Science Monthly !”

Well, that was a pleasant surprise. “Ah, yes. It’s nice to be recognized for my scientific work for once. Are you looking to enter the psychiatric profession, Jasmine?”

“Jazz, please. And yes, absolutely!” If Jazz smiled any wider Sasha was worried her head would split open. “I’m trying to pioneer ectopsychology, the study of a ghost’s psyche.”

Maddie frowned, but did not speak up. Jack on the other hand was not so reserved.

“It’ll make it way easier to catch them if we can understand how they think, that’s for sure!”

Jazz scowled, and clearly made a move to start arguing, but stopped herself with a look of resignation.

Concerning. There were clearly some disagreements here.

“I’m sure a ghost would have a fascinating worldview. Do they have an actual brain?”

“Of course not,” Maddie denied. “Ghosts are semi-solid masses of ectoplasm built around a central core. Much like a cell, actually, and like cells they may on occasion have organelle-like structures that we haven’t been able to determine the use of, but what passes for their mind is centralized in their core, which is usually in their center of mass.”

“A mind without a brain…” Sasha mused. “I can imagine that they might have inhuman thought processes, given that they aren’t bound by the physical brain matter we humans are.”

“No, no, there are no thought processes,” Maddie corrected. “A ghost is something like a snapshot of a person’s memories at the moment of death. They don’t have thoughts as we understand them, merely patterns of behavior leftover from their life--”

“Except they are able to learn and adapt, Mom .” Jasmine looked annoyed. “Skulker upgrades his armor after every defeat and Technus is always trying to figure out new tech--”

“Keyword being trying , Jazz,” Maddie said almost gently. “He can control technology but he’s clearly not very good at actually figuring it out. Last time I saw him we caught him in the middle of failing to use a computer.”

“That’s because he died an old man before computers were invented. My math teacher can’t figure out computers either, are you going to say Mr. Falluca is also ‘trapped in patterns of behavior?’”

“I’m sure that Mr. Falluca could figure it out if someone walked him through it. Technus on the other hand--”

“Frequently upgrades the tech he grabs in ways that can be reproduced? Yes. It’s totally more reasonable that ghost powers cna randomly produce scientific advancement than that the ghost themselves knows what they’re doing.”

Maddie scowled. “Jazz--”

“Mom.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Hey, now, let’s calm down. Why don’t I get us some more cocoa, huh? Jazzy hasn’t had any yet after all.”

“Perhaps that would be best, yes,” Sasha agreed. This was clearly a complicated and recurring argument. He wished Milla was here, she was much better at the whole mediating thing.

A thought occurred to him, and he looked around. Where was Raz?

...Sasha shrugged it off. He must have wandered off, he did that. Razputin could look after himself.

Jack stuck his head out of the kitchen. “You kids want anything?” he asked the teenagers. “Hey, where’d Danny go?”

The teens exchanged a look. “He, uh, went for a walk/to the bathroom,” they said at the same time.

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “He went for a walk to the bathroom?”

The boy looked embarrassed, but the excuse was good enough for Jack.

“Well, I hope he doesn’t take too long!” The large man patted his stomach. “That cocoa goes right through me, you know!”

Sasha grimaced. Charming . As he followed Jack into the kitchen, another thought occurred to him. “Tell me more about this ‘Technus.’ I could swear I’d heard that name before.”

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

Raz enjoyed exploring. Everywhere he went he seemed to find new and interesting places to explore. Whispering Rock had all kinds of nooks and crannies, Green Needle Gulch wasn’t far behind, the Motherlobe had all kinds of secret passages and forgotten underground chambers…

Last month he found out that the family caravan had a tiny attic crawl space none of them knew about before. That would have been useful to know when they were still on the road, it would’ve been good for their luggage.

Amity Park was shaping up to be an exciting place. The Fenton Works house had already provided a number of opportunities, and he was indulging in one right now.

The Ops Center, as it was called, had all kinds of bars and ledges to throw himself off of. Raz bet his family could build an entire show around this building. Plenty of windows left open, tall poles to climb, and stuff to find. He’d found another Ghost Card already, depicting what appeared to be a generic blob-thing, as well as a silver boomerang that had been caught in an antenna array.

Oh, sorry, a ‘Booo-merang,’ judging from the label. Raz liked the Fentons. Their naming skills were amazing.

Raz was taking a break, lounging in one of the satellite dishes, when a sound drew his attention. He crawled around to look into the nearest window and saw a bunch of boxes moving around.

“Huh. Did the take Sasha up here?” That sucked. His fellow agents (hee!) had gotten used to it, but Raz had figured out that most adults got freaked out when they saw him doing acrobat stuff. He’d better get down before he gave someone a heart attack.

Shimmying down through an open window and closing it behind him, he looked around the room.

There was no one here.

“...Huh? I thought for sure someone was here.” Raz poked the stack of boxes that he’d seen moving. One of them was labelled ‘Spare Parts’ and was leaking something green. “...Ew.”

The boxes shuddered alarmingly and started leaning. Raz back away.

“...Oops. I didn’t think I poked it that hard… wait, now they’re shaking, what?”

The top box burst open and a blue man flew out.

“BEWARE!”

Chapter Text

“I am the BOX Ghost! Fear my cardboard DOOM!”

Raz blinked, slowly. “...cardboard doom?”

The ghost looked at him, just noticing that he was there. “Small child! Do you not cower in fear? ” He flexed his power and the boxes throughout the room began floating in the air. “Are the sharpened edges of these deadly cubical containers not the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen?!”

Raz shook his head. “I’ve seen worse.”

The Box Ghost sagged. “Really? I can do better! Hold on, what if I…” He floated over to one of the boxes and began inspecting them. One, a huge empty box that once held a sofa and still had a bunch of styrofoam and plastic inside, floated closer. “Aha! Face your Styro- Foe!”

A piece of styrofoam was molded into a ball and flung at Raz. It bounced off his helmet without making him flinch.

The two of them stared at the ball for a moment.

“...Do you take constructive criticism?” Raz asked.

The Box Ghost looked suspicious, but couldn’t see anything but sincerity in the child’s face. “...Okay.”

Raz put a hand to his chin in thought and walked around the ghost. “So, boxes? Is that it?”

“Boxes AND all their contents , yes,” The Box Ghost said, slightly defensive. “I, the Box Ghost , also possess mastery of all manner of sinister packing materials! Beware my wrath --” He coughed. “I mean.... Yes.”

“Hmm.” Raz snapped his fingers. “Well, when you don’t have much to work with, you just have to get creative. My friend Lizzie taught me about this thing called ‘min-maxing’... Can you still control boxes when they’re broken down or torn?”

The Box Ghost listened carefully.

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

This was stupid.

Danny flew all over the entire block looking for the ghost. Obviously they wouldn’t stick around FentonWorks, none of them were dumb enough. Mom and Dad were lousy at actually finding ghosts, but if they managed to come across one they were dangerous . 

Danny had given up after nearly fifteen minutes without his ghost sense going off again. Either the ghost had thought better of it and gone back into the portal after poking their head out or something, or he’d find out about them later when they finally made their--

The Ops Center was glowing. A ghastly green light was shining out of the Ops Center’s windows.

Danny groaned. So much for being smarter than that.

He’d need to be careful. The Emergency Ops Center had some of the more sophisticated ghost-detection technology, so if Danny-as-Phantom exerted himself too much the alarms would go off and he’d have to get out of dodge to avoid his parents. On the other hand, that the alarm wasn’t on already meant that whoever it was was one of the weaker ghosts, too minor to set them off.

Hopefully this would be easy.

…

Danny smacked himself. “I just jinxed it, didn’t I?”

He phased inside, invisible, and rolled his eyes at the boxes floating around. Box Ghost. Of course, why not? Well, at least he could handle--

“No, do not even think those words,” he whispered harshly to himself.

He slowly floated into the main room, still unseen, looking for the Box--wait, what was that kid doing here?

Raz was standing by the Box Ghost. Just. Talking to him?

“...So one thing I’ve learned is that, as a general rule, everything is better with spinning. So take your boxes. Those ‘sharpened edges’ might be more intimidating if you set the box spinning first. And if you need to use them as a shield, the spin will make deflecting attacks more effective as a blow gets pulled into the motion!”

The Box Ghost hummed thoughtfully, then twisted his hand. The nearest box began spinning in place, faster and faster until it looked more like a--

“Cylinders…” The Box Ghost spat. “Maybe if I spun it on its corner, like a top…”

“...there are cylindrical boxes, aren’t there? Like hat boxes?”

“Those aren’t true Boxes, foolish child! A true box is square, the strongest shape! You can take your hat boxes and your cans and your thermoses and shove them--”

Raz waved his hands. “But think about it! A giant hat box rolling on its side, chasing people down like a boulder…”

“...hmm.”

“And maybe you can do something with envelopes, like throwing stars or something. Because,” Raz added at the Box Ghost’s incredulous look, “What are envelopes if not small, really flat boxes? Or can you not control all kinds of packages after all?”

“Of course I can!” He sounded offended. “I have mastery of all kinds of deliveries! The box, the envelope, the crate, that present--when the post office had emergency deliveries, I was the first one they called!”

Danny blinked. What?

Raz tilted his head, confused as well. “Post office?” The kid looked the ghost up and down. “I thought you were a dockworker, from the look of you.”

“I… yes, I was, but also…?” The Box Ghost looked just as bewildered. “Why did I say that? I… yes, I did deliver letters, but then why don’t I…?”

He fell silent, brow furrowed.

Danny took the opportunity to drift closer. This was new… he’d never seen the Box Ghost so quiet before. What was Raz doing?

“...How much do you remember about your life?” Raz asked softly. 

Danny tensed at the same time the Box Ghost did, ready to move if he lashed out. But after a moment Box slumped and sighed.

“...I remember a box. An important box. I had a very important box, and I was looking for it. I needed to find it. I need to find it .”

“What was in the box?”

“...I don’t know. I’ll know it when I see it.”

Raz looked to the side (right at where Danny was floating, and he froze thinking the ‘psychic’ could see him) before seeming to come to a decision. He held a hand up and a small rectangle floated out of his backpack. “I think I might be able to help you. With your permission, of course.”

The Box Ghost raised an eyebrow. “Help me with what?”

“Remembering.” Raz held up the object, a small… toy door? “I’m a Psychonaut, and this psy-door lets me go inside people’s minds. Maybe I can help you uncover your lost memories!”

The Box Ghost looked skeptical. “...Psychonaut?” He looked at the door curiously. He poked it, and a green light briefly came from behind it. “...Well… I’m not saying no…”

“Great! Let’s give it a try. I hope this works....”

The Box Ghost took the door and gingerly placed it on his forehead.

The door opened and Raz put his goggles down over his eyes. There was a shimmer in the air...

The inside looked just like a ghost portal. And then, so did the Box Ghost’s eyes, green replacing his usual red.

The door slammed shut and Raz was thrown back like something had just punched him in the head, and the Box Ghost screamed .

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

“And I’m telling you that if you had ever actually tried talking to a ghost you’d realize how short-sighted and… and prejudiced you’re being!”

“Ghosts are monsters that need to be put down! You can't be prejudiced against a rabid dog!”

Sasha groaned. He was getting a headache. He had the sense that this argument had been building for a while.

Jasmine was adamant that ghosts were people, while Dr. Fenton seemed completely certain that they were barely sentient. Jack had given his own token admissions in support of Maddie at first, but by this point the man was trying ineffectually to get them to calm down, clearly uncomfortable with the shouting.

“Jazzy-pants, surely if ghosts were capable of being reasoned with, one of them would have tried to reason with us by now?” he offered.

Jazz’s glare could have nailed him to the wall. “Oh? You think they haven’t ? Let’s see how reasonable you are when there’s a gun in your face and someone is telling you how much they want to dissect you!”

Jack frowned, but Sasha sat up straight. “Dissec--You’ve been dissecting these creatures?”

“We would if we ever managed to keep them long enough,” Maddie said flippantly. “That Phantom keeps getting to the ghosts before we can, and even when we do catch one they go missing from containment. I’m certain Phantom is stealing them away.”

“He’s rescuing them!” Jazz insisted.

“Where is all this anger coming from, Jazz?” Jack asked. “I know you’ve talked about ghosts being able to think before, but--”

“I was hoping that now that another scientist is here,” Jazz said, gesturing to Sasha, “That maybe you’d be willing to actually listen.”

“What kind of real scientist believes in psychics?” Maddie shot back.

Jazz blinked. “Psychics? What?”

Sasha was on his feet. “Excuse you?” He took a deep breath, setting his anger to the side. He’d need to find a targeting range soon, but this was not the place. These people were merely misguided. “It is one thing to accuse me of being a fake psychic--you’re wrong, but I can forgive it. But calling me a face scientist? ”

“Whoa now, hold on, let’s just calm down and--” Jack began, but was cut off when Sasha suddenly groaned and flopped back into his seat, holding his head. “Whoa, are you alright?” His eyes lit up. “Are you receiving messages from beyond?!”

“I’m a psychic, not a mediu--agh!” There was a pressure behind his temples. “Something… happening upstairs…”

Jack blinked and looked up. “In the Ops Center?”

And that was when the alarms went off.

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

The Box Ghost roared.

“BEWARE!”

Well, that was Danny’s cue. He flipped into the visible spectrum and crossed his arms.

“Hey now!” he called out. “I know you’re psyched to see me, but--whoa!” Danny had to duck as a stack box nearly rammed into him. “Okay, guess we’re not in the mood.”

The Box Ghost’s swirling green eyes zeroed in on him. “INSUFFICIENT POSTAGE!” He pointed at Danny and the box that missed him opened. It was labelled ‘Spare Parts.’ “RETURN TO SENDER!”

A storm of sharp metal and electrical wires--sparking despite not being connected to anything--flew Danny’s way, and he had to focus on dodging them. Once the box was empty, it flattened and flapped away. Before he could ponder that, the old sofa box Dad never threw away came up and spat torn and used plastic at him. It wrapped around him like a net, and it was surprisingly hard to struggle out of.

Just as Danny managed to get one arm free with an ectoblast, the plastic unravelled, splitting evenly into squares and shoving him aside. Danny went sprawling, rolling in midair.

Raz was lying on the ground next to him, clutching his head. “Ugh…”

“Okay, seriously, what’s going on?” Danny asked. He looked up, but the Box Ghost wasn’t pressing the advantage. He just kind of… floated there, staring at nothing while the boxes zoomed around. Weird, but Danny wasn’t going to argue. “What did you do ?”

Raz struggled to sit up. “Ps-Psitanium. In the door. Overloading--grgh.” He tried to open his eyes, only to immediately clench them shut. “Too much!”

The alarms started going off, but Danny ignored them to figure out his plan of attack.

“So its the door, huh?” Danny looked back at the Box Ghost. Getting the door off his head should be easy enough--oh, wow.

The boxes had disassembled and reconstructed themselves. There was a dragon made of cardboard and plastic wrap in the Ops Center.

Danny stared at it for a moment. “...Well. Thanks for teaching him creativity, kid. Really appreciate it.”

It wasn’t terribly stable. The limbs kept detaching and the boxes making up its  serpentine body weren’t actually connected and horribly mismatched in terms of size, but it was unmistakably a dragon, made of boxes.

“Well, crap.”

“SPECIAL DELIVERY!”

The dragon moved, and Danny picked Raz up to get him out of the way. He set the kid behind a console and turned to face the cardboard monster. “Isn’t this a bit outside your usual wheelhouse, Box Ghost?”

A clumsy claw swipe was phased through. The Box Ghost still hadn’t moved, but he was watching Danny now. Maybe if he was fast he could duck around the dragon and get to him?

The construct wasn’t terribly fast, so he did just that, ducking under its plastic wings and making a beeline for him.

“STAMPS.”

A stack of stamps shot from the miniature portals that were the ghost’s eyes. They weren’t terribly strong, but they surprised Danny enough that he missed and crashed into the wall behind him. And then the dragon was back, glowering at him.

“I really wish that kid was awake,” Danny mused to himself. “I bet some fire would help.”

The dragon opened its mouth.

“Not from you!” Danny dodged as a stream of… papers shot out of the dragon’s mouth. They scattered as they flew, but then the box behind the dragon’s head was emptied out and it moved to the back of the line. The next box was filled with spare hazmat suits, and they tried to grapple Danny as they came out. Luckily they didn’t keep moving once they hit something, or else he’d really be in trouble.

One of Dad’s suits nearly engulfed him, and the last one out was a copy of Danny’s old white one before the dragon went to the next box. A metal box with green lights on the side.

It spewed miscellaneous gadgets at him. Dany managed to shield against the ecto-ray and dodge the net, but then the dragon hit him with its wing and knocked him into the path of a grenade.

It went off.

Danny’s back hit the nearest wall, and it hurt more than usual. It took him a moment to realize that he’d been knocked out of his ghost form. Some kind of...ectoplasmic EMP?

Looked like it. The dragon roared in victory before it started falling apart. The glow surrounding it dimmed, and Danny saw the Box Ghost falter, his expression changing for the first time since that door got stuck on, looking lost.

“FLIMSY...”

He floated down until he was almost touching the ground.

And then the hatch to the house below opened up and everyone else came pouring in.

“What in the worl--GHOST!” Jack patted himself, looking for a weapon and finding none.

Nein took in the room, grimacing. “The source of the disturbance is in here, but where…?”

“It’s the ghost obviously, where’s my blaster?!”

“Door…” Danny coughed. “Get the door off his head…”

Mom saw him and gasped, rushing to his side. Nein meanwhile focused on the Box Ghost, immediately seeing the door on his head. “I see.” He raised one hand and pulled.

The door popped off the Box Ghost’s head, clattering to the floor and slowly losing its glow. The ghost fell to the ground, losing consciousness. A moment later, Jazz pulled a thermos out of her pocket and sucked him in.

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

Raz breathed a sigh of relief as the pressure went away all at once. He sat up, wincing at the remnants of his fading headache.

“Now I know how Helmutt felt…”

“Razputin.”

Looking up, he saw the older agent looking down at him. “Oh, Sasha! What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” he answered, holding up Raz’s psi-door.

“Oh… I was trying to help the Box Ghost remember his previous life. I didn’t expect… all that.”

“I see.”

“Do you, now?” Dr. Fenton challenged, walking over. She looked angry. “Do you understand, now, that ghosts are monsters that need to be captured for everyone’s safety?” She pointed behind her where Danny was nursing a nasty bruise.

“That’s not true!” Raz objected. “It was my fault, the psi-door malfunctioned and--”

“Hush, sweetie, the adults are talking.”

Raz gaped at her.

Sasha wasn’t very happy either, but explaining Razputin’s status as a junior agent would add yet another confusing layer to this already very trying day, so instead he sent feelings of reassurance the boy’s way. “I’m sure Razputin had his reasons, but I think that this presents a solution to all our problems… I think I can prove to you the reality of psychics, and determine the true nature of ghostly consciousness in one fell swoop.”

Maddie squinted at him. She was beginning to regret inviting this man into her house, but she found herself interested in his idea despite herself. If it worked, she could at least put her daughter’s concerns to rest once and for all. “...What do you have in mind?”

Sasha lifted the psi-door into view. “How do you feel about a collaboration?”

POP

“Better let Otto sign off on it first, Sasha,” Ford said, suddenly there.

The Fentons jumped, Maddie actually lashing out with a kick that bounced off Ford’s psychic shield. He gave no indication of having noticed the attack and glared at Sasha.

“Thanks for letting us know you weren’t coming back, Nein. We spent all that time putting up streamers for nothing!”

Raz blinked. “Streamers? Why would you--oh, hey,” he cut himself off after being handed a tupperware container with a slice of cake inside.

“Happy 11th birthday, Razputin. Your gifts are back in your dorm room now, since the party didn’t happen. Now,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s see about these ghosts you weren’t supposed to find, shall we?”

Chapter Text

“Ah, very interesting…” Dr. Nein muttered. “Jack, look here.”

The larger man leaned over, eyes widening. “Well, I’ve never seen that reaction before… what did you say this material was again?”

“Psitanium. A rare, psycho-reactive mineral… Essentially it emits electromagnetic radiation that is nearly identical to certain forms of neural oscillation. Brainwaves,” he clarified at Jack’s blank look. “Agent Mentallis is going to be very cross with me for dismantling one of his Psi-doors, but I think he’ll forgive me when he sees the results.”

Nein had taken the tiny Psitanium disc from Razputin’s Psi-door and placed it on the Fentons’ least-cluttered work table before introducing some ectoplasm to it. The gelatinous substance had flowed around it like iron filings in a magnetic field and rapidly begun to crystalize.

Jack hummed. “Ectoplasm in its ‘natural’ state is somewhat unstable, and halfway between solid and liquid. We’ve encountered it in all four different states of matter and haven’t fully documented what causes the different states, but here… It looks like your purple rock is forcing it into a stable structure… like how water molecules stack themselves when they freeze.” He tapped a short rhythm onto the steel table. “Could that be why that ghost went nuts? It forced the ectoplasm in its body to stabilize? Why would that make it crazy? You would think it’d be able to think like a human again…”

“Or perhaps not,” Nein suggested. “Humans may think of ourselves as rational beings, but if anything we are even less bound by logic than mere animals. We lack the hard-coded instincts many animals have, with only our deepest, most base impulses remaining buried in our subconscious. It is likely that the Psi-door pushed this Box Ghost’s mind in an even more alien direction.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

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

Tucker looked on in wonder. “Dude, it is so weird seeing your dad act like a real scientist.”

“Dad has two doctorates, Tucker,” Danny said, annoyed. “He’s not stupid.”

“I know!” Tucker held his hands up defensively. “I’m just saying.” He looked around. “That kid with the goggles wandered off again. What happened with the Box Ghost, anyway?”

“I don’t even know, Tuck. I came back from searching to find Raz coaching him on how to be a bigger threat, then that door-thing, and then it was like I was fighting a cheap knock-off of Aragon. Really cheap.”

There was a muffled sound of protest from Jazz’s thermos.

“Oh, guess he’s awake.” Danny glanced at Sam, who had had time to run home and return with a stack of comic books. “Any luck?”

She continued leafing through the volumes. “No, no--yes! Wait, really?” She read on for a moment. “Okay, right, I knew that guy was important.” Sam pointed at the old man arguing with Danny’s mom. “That’s Ford Cruller! The guy who basically founded the Psychonauts.”

Jazz tilted her head. “That name sounds familiar…”

Sam skimmed through the issue at hand. “Okay… right, he gathered the Psychic Six together, yada yada… Wow, he’s how old?” She looked up again. “I can’t tell if he looks good or bad for his age. He’s nearly a hundred.”

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

“You expect me to believe that in the 50s you built an international organization of so-called psychics and I never heard of it?”

“It ain’t my fault you never heard of us, woman!” Ford snapped at her. “I ran that place for nigh-on thirty years, and we didn’t exactly advertise, that came later. Are ya really going to tell me you never heard of Mindswarm?”

“No.”

“The war in Grulovia?”

“Are you really taking credit for that horrible flood?!”

“No, of course not, I was there cleaning up the aftermath!” Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m willing to set my own disbelief about ghosts aside, why can’t you meet us halfway about psychics?”

Maddie’s eye twitched. “Ghosts are real .”

Ford fumed. “Lady, don’t think I won’t smack you just cause you’re a woman.”

“Don’t think I won’t hit an old man.”

They stared a moment longer, and Ford smirked.

And then, without any warning or even noticeable transition, the two of them were standing in a completely different lab.

A blue-skinned man with very tall hair looked up from where he was putting something together. “Oh, Ford, good to see you. Did I miss Raz’s party? And who’s this?”

Maddie looked around, shocked. “What just--where--?!” She stumbled. “Oh, what was that? I feel ill.”

“That’ll happen to first-timers,” Ford agreed. Turning to the blue man, he said, “Otto, the party didn’t happen. Raz ran into real ghosts.”

“...Somehow, I’m not surprised. And you are?” Otto asked the woman again.

“Otto, meet Dr. Maddie Fenton. She doesn’t think psychics are real.”

Otto dropped his screwdriver. “What.”

Maddie folded her arms. “And I still don’t.”

“Fenton, I just teleported us across state lines,” Ford said pointedly.

“And why should I believe this is something of the mind, rather than some more of your tech?”

Otto adjusted his glasses. “Dr. Fenton, was it? All technology is ‘of the mind.’ Let me show you.”

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

Danny watched the two disappear and jumped, rising halfway to his feet. “They just--!”

“Oh yeah, he can teleport,” Sam said, numbly.

“Don’t worry!”

They looked up to see a ceiling vent swing open and Raz dropped down. He turned a somersault in the air and stuck the landing easily.

“Ford can be a little crotchety and old sometimes, but he won’t hurt Mrs. Fenton.” He swung his backpack off his shoulder and dug around in it. “He probably just took her somewhere to help make a point.” Noticing Sam’s comics, his face lit up. “Oh, you read True Psychic Tales too?!”

“Uh, kind of. I’m behind, but I-- what the heck?!” Sam screamed as Raz pulled a mousetrap with a very dead rat stuck in it and set it on the floor.

“I found this up in the vents. Who puts a trap in a place like that?”

“Why did you--” Danny started, but then he felt a chill go down his spine as Raz pulled something else out.

“Then I found this pretty lady,” Raz said cheerfully, pulling a blue-furred ghost rat out and setting it next to--presumably--its own corpse. “Poor little girl died up there and couldn’t find her way out, so I helped her escape.”

The four teens watched in morbid fascination as the ghost rat sniffed at itself and its surroundings, red eyes taking everything in, then sprinted over to the ghost portal and jumped in.

“Bye!” Raz called after it. “I like her. Reminds me of Harold. Now, what to do with this thing…” he mumbled, looking back at the dead body. “Hey, do you guys have a backyard we can bury this in?”

Tucker mouthed ‘we?’ while Danny just dumbly shook his head. “Yes?”

“Cool. I’ll take care of this and be right back!”

And with that the strange kid was gone, climbing the stairs up with a dead rat in his hands.

They stared after him for a moment longer. Jazz sighed and stood up. “I guess… I’ll help him find the shovel?”

“...Dude, what even is today?”

“I don’t know Tucker.” Danny sighed.

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

Jack looked up, suddenly feeling a chill in the air. “Man, we have got to get a heater in here.”

“Ind--” Nein broke off and glanced at Danny, which Jack thought was odd, but whatever. “...Indeed.”

They both watched Danny and his friends talk with Raz for a moment, and then the boy left, followed by Jazz.

“Hey, what’s the deal with the kid anyway?”

“Raz?” Nein considered the question. “A true talent like I’ve never seen, and a rare example of a true psychic generalist. Most of us have two or three specialties that come easily to us and the rest must be learned through long practice, but Raz picks up new powers incredibly easily.”

“Really?” Jack shrugged at the answer. It didn’t really mean anything to him, but he appreciated that it sounded impressive.

...Something was off. “Where’s Maddie and the geezer?”

Nein let out a startled laugh. “ Please call him that to his face. And… I’m not sure? Perhaps he--no, there they are.”

Ford and Maddie reappeared, Maddie looking slightly unsteady. She gave Ford a dirty look, then slowly walked over to Jack and Sasha, pulling her hood and goggles back over her head.

“Alright, what have you learned so far?” She sighed. “I’ll at least entertain this nonsense until it’s proven one way or the other.”

“Oh, it’s great, Mads!” Jack beamed, pulling her close and catching her up to speed.

“My goodness. What did you show her, Ford?” Sasha asked.

Ford chuckled. “I didn’t show her anything. Otto showed her his photographic memory cameras. He’s figured out how to make it work for non-psychics and how to transfer images.” He sniffed. “Hard to deny that something’s going on when someone else drops a bunch of pictures directly into your head.”

Sasha frowned. “...A bit more direct than I’d prefer. I would have liked to convince her the old fashioned way.”

“Old fashioned? You?” Ford shook his head. “Girl’s got a complex, plain as day. She needed a kick in the pants before she’d admit to anything.” He walked off, then vanished into thin air again.

Nein grimaced, turning back to the table.

“...and so Sasha here thinks that he’s figured out a way to make the door thingy work on minds!” Jack finished.

“Really now?” Maddie asked, distracted. She was poking the ectoplasm with a spoon. It had formed into a three-dimensional crystal around the purple chunk. A piece broke off where she touched it, swiftly melting back into slime before slithering into the main mass again. “I’ve never seen a reaction like that… Hot and cold temperatures have little to no effect on ectoplasm, so why would ‘brainwaves’ cause this reaction?”

Sasha adjusted his glasses. “Based on your own research into ectoplasm and the nature of ghosts, it is my opinion that a ghost’s form is based entirely around its own self-image; memories of what it used to look like, or perhaps a desire for what it should look like. Ectoplasm in its base state is similar to oobleck, but the psitanium is providing a faux-mental structure--”

“Acting as a false mind for the ectoplasm to base itself on!” Maddie finished. “It’s turning into crystal because it’s a crystals ‘mind’!”

“Exactly!”

“See Maddie, this psychic stuff IS interesting!” Jack added happily.

“I suppose so,” Maddie admitted. “But if the… psitanium is what caused the Box Ghost’s madness, how can we use it to enter its mind?”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “ His mind. At least give him that courtesy.” He pulled the rock out of the circle of ectoplasm. Without the chunk to sustain its form, the crystals quickly reverted back to slime. “The Psi-door works, essentially, by streamlining a pre-existing process. It is possible for a psychic to enter a person’s mind on their own, but it is difficult and dangerous even for powerful, highly trained specialists, because a portion of their focus must always be spent maintaining the connection, leaving them more vulnerable and weaker in the mindscape.

“The Psi-door automates the process. It is not a door for no reason; it uses technology to shape the psycho-active energy given off by the psitanium into a mental structure that is, for all intents and purposes, a doorway. It pries open the target’s mental defenses and opens the door, then closes them again when it’s over. It does the hard work so the psychic can just drop in and get to business.”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Hey, we kind of do something similar with ectoplasm in our inventions, don’t we Mads? I made the Fenton Ghost Catcher by running a specific electric current through wires coated in the stuff, and it took some trial and error before it did what I wanted. Remember attempt number seven?”

Maddie shuddered. “It turned your skin invisible when you passed through it, I remember.”

Nein blinked, but pressed on. “Yes. In short, if I can make the psitanium into a door, perhaps you can do the same with ectoplasm. And what’s more,” he added, gesturing widely at the lab, “ All your technology is powered by ectoplasm, correct?”

“Just about, yep!”

“Do you think we can project the ghost’s mindscape onto the computer screen?”

Jack and Maddie exchanged a glance. They had a silent conversation.

Finally Jack grinned and rolled up his sleeves, revealing well-muscled arms. “Only one way to find out!” He rolled his sleeves back down before touching the ectoplasm. “Hey, Sasha, you want a jumpsuit? It’s not a good idea to touch this stuff if you can avoid it.”

Ford popped back in. “Hey, you folks got a phone? Razputin’s mother wants to talk with him.”

“In the kitchen,” Maddie said absently, already readying her tools.

“Ford, I believe Miss Jasmine has our ghost,” Sasha told him. “I will be busy with this project, could you see about convincing him to participate?”

“Sure, whatever.” Ford walked upstairs, and Sasha noted as the teens followed him. He turned back to the Fentons. “So this ectoplasm is… dangerous?”

“It won’t kill you,” Maddie assured him. “But prolonged exposure can have side effects.”

“Such as?”

“Check this out!” Jack clapped twice and the lights in the lab went out. 

“I don’t--ah.”

After a moment, Jack’s teeth started glowing with the same intensity as the slime on the table.

Maddie clapped the lights back on. “I make him wear a grind guard, otherwise it’s too bright for me to sleep at night.”

Sasha stared for a moment longer. “...I wear a size Medium, if you have that.”

“Great! I think I have one in green!” Jack turned to go looking for it. “It used to be white, but let me tell you, ectoplasm stains like you wouldn’t believe!”

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

Raz walked in, dusting off his hands as he walked back into the kitchen. “Rest in peace, little friend. Oh, hey Ford.”

Ford waved at him, then turned to Jazz sitting at the table. “You Jasmine?”

“Jazz, please.”

“Lemme see this ghost of yours. I wanna see them with my own two eyes.”

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Jazz said. “He might just run away, and then we’d have to go and--I mean, wait for Phantom to catch him.”

“Phantom?” Ford asked. As Jazz opened her mouth he shook his head. “Nevermind, I don’t care. Sasha wants me to ask this ghost for permission to look inside his head.”

“You might as well, Jazz,” Sam said, coming up with Danny and Tucker. “We’ll need him out eventually anyway.”

Jazz chewed at her lip and looked to Danny. He nodded, so she took the thermos out and unscrewed the lid.

The Box Ghost emerged with all the grace of a dead rat, flying out and directly into a wall.

“Ouch! This is not the Ghost Zone!” The Box Ghost righted himself, hovering over the counter as he rubbed his head. “Ghost child, why do you not release me in the usual way?” He turned, and stopped when he took in the two psychics. “I mean. You are not the ghost child. WHO ARE YOU?”

Ford winced at the shouting. “Calm down, I’m not hard of hearing yet and I don’t want to be!”

“Oh, sorry.” The Box Ghost squinted. “Wait, you look familiar to me… did you ever work in the Post Office?” 

“No. ” Ford looked the ghost up and down, taking in his blue skin, not anything special, and the glowing, which was a bit more unusual. He reached out for the being’s mind and winced. There was something there alright, but it was jagged and hard to touch.

...And familiar? How could that be? “Well, that’s me told. Ghosts. Heh.” He muttered to himself. Out loud, he said, “I know for a fact we never had someone like you in the mailroom. I don’t recognize you, anyhow.”

The Box Ghost frowned, looking slightly hurt for some reason. Then his red eyes focused. “For what horrible purpose have you set me free, miscellaneous children and unknown elderly person?”

Ford cleared his throat and pulled Raz in front of him. “Right, so listen, from what I understand, things got off on the wrong foot with you and Razputin here.”

“They did?” The ghost frowned, thinking. “I do not recall the events you speak of! I remember talking to the small brain child, and then--oh wait.” He held his head, grimacing at the memory. Then he brightened up. “Hey, I did pretty good back there, didn’t I? Real scary, huh?”

Raz nodded. “I was terrified for my life,” he said matter-of-factly.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I bet Phantom was shaking in his boots with your cardboard monster. Ow,” he rubbed his side where Jazz elbowed him. “Okay, yeah, you did some damage. From what I saw, anyway,” he added, when Raz looked at him in confusion.

Ford huffed. “Boy, I can hear your secrets from here. I don’t care what you’re hiding, just stop thinking so loudly about it and learn to lie better.”

“Anyway,” Raz said loudly to draw the ghost’s attention. “Sasha thinks he and the Fentons can figure out how to make the Psi-door actually work on you, if you’re willing to give it a second try.”

The Box Ghost frowned, thinking. “It was not a pleasant experience, but…” He checked himself over, looking for damage and finding none. “Wait. Wait, what, the Fentons? The ghost hunters? They’re involved in this?! Deception! Betrayal! ” He pointed at them accusingly in turn. Pointing at Danny in particular, he growled “We had a deal! I didn’t actually hurt people and you kept me away from the hunters!”

“Okay, okay, but it’s not what you think!” Danny cut in, talking fast. “I’ll be honest, I don’t fully get what’s happening right now, but what I do understand is this: Dr. Nein and Raz are vouching for ghosts as being people, and are trying to prove it to Mom and Dad.”

“If you go along with it,” Sam said, “Maybe we can convince them that ghosts deserve some kind of ethical treatment. You and the other ghosts might not have to worry about being hunted as much anymore.”

The Box Ghost squinted at them suspiciously. Then he thought.

The Fentons scared him . And he hated it, because being scary was his thing! Sorta. They could be terrifying when they wanted to be. The Box Ghost had not actually been aware that they didn’t think ghosts were people, but it made sense now that he thought about it. It would explain why the ghost child was so against telling them about everything…

The Box Ghost looked from Danny, to Jazz, and then to Raz, who was looking up at him with such earnest determination that there was really only one choice.

“...Alright, fine. But I refuse to be tied down or anything. The Box Ghost cannot be held by anything less than the strongest of boxes, so don’t even try!”

Ford smiled. “You’ll barely regret it! Now, if I know Sasha, it’ll take another hour or two before it’s ready, so let’s get some lunch. You got any bacon?” He snapped his fingers. “And where’s you’re phone, miss?”

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

“Dudes, look here,” Tucker said. He turned his PDA so they could see. “I tried searching this Ford Cruller guy, and Sam, you're not gonna believe this. This guy’s done everything! He’s been a national park ranger, a mercenary in World War II, a licensed barber…”

Jazz looked the page over and gasped. “He was the one who funded Helmut Fullbear’s research into musical therapy and the arts! And Bob Zonotto, and Cassie O’Pia…”

“Yeah, apparently he’s pretty wealthy, or was,” Tucker agreed, scrolling through the page. “Says here he kind of vanished from the public eye twenty years ago… in 1962? Man, this page needs editing. That’s probably meant to say ‘forty.’ ...No mention of him being psychic, though.”

Ford snorted, sitting down at the table with a BLT. “Bad luck, that. This whole Internet thing happened while I was… eh, indisposed, but from what Sasha tells me there’s been a downswing in public opinion around psychics these past few years and one of the mods on that website decided they’d remove any mention of them they could find. Every time someone tries to fix it they just take it down again.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That sucks.”

“Eh, it happens. When I was growing up they still called you a witch if you moved something with your mind. If all you get is a bit of name-calling and denial now, that’s still a step up.” Ford took a bite of his sandwich and frowned. “There’s something off about this lettuce…”

“Okay, talk to you later Mom--yes, bye--yes, I love you too, ye--no, I don’t want to talk to Dion. No, not Frazie either, maybe later.” Raz sighed away from the receiver, then winced when his mother still picked up on it and started scolding. “What’s that? Sorry I can’t hear you bye love you!”

He slammed the phone onto its holster and sighed.

“Well!” Raz smiled. “I’m grounded when we get back to HQ.”

“Oh yeah?” Danny asked, amused. It was nice to see someone else getting the embarrassing parents treatment for once. “What for?”

“Uncovering another conspiracy,” Raz said without a trace of irony. He pulled a mostly-filled stamp card out of his pocket. “Two more and the Grand Head says he’ll get me a free lunch every day for a year at the Motherlobe cafeteria.”

Ford laughed. “Truman really should know better than to encourage you, Raz.” He slapped the Box Ghost’s hand away when he tried to swipe the sandwich. “Boy, you try and touch my bacon and I’ll make you wish you could die again.”

The ghost pulled his hand back. “Yes, sir.”

Ford and Raz both stiffened. The old man rose. “Well, Sasha’s done. Or thinks he is.”

“Already?” Danny blinked. “But I haven’t heard a single explosion, Mom and Dad usually don’t invent something new until at least explosion three.”

“Sasha’s not much better. They must be having a good day--”

The basement door rattled in its frame and a plume of green smoke billowed out from underneath it.

“Ah, there it is.” For some reason Danny seemed more at ease after that.

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

Sasha waved the smoke out of his face, then remembered he had a better method and formed an air bubble around his head. Then after a moment’s thought he did the same for Jack and Maddie, though they seemed mostly unbothered by it.

“Ah, nothing says progress like a faceful of smoke and flame!” Jack pressed a button on the nearest console and the vents started sucking the fumes out. “You alright, Sasha?”

“I’m managing. You seem used to this.”

Maddie waved it off. “We’ve been exposed to so much ectoplasm over the years that our whole family shows up on untuned spectrometers. We’re acclimated to it.”

“As you say.” He looked down at their work, expecting to find smoldering remains. His eyes widened. “Oh my…”

The Fentons followed his gaze and cheered. There was a small, purple, glowing door sitting on the table. Sasha winced as a pulse of unfocused psycho-energy radiated from it, and then all at once it seemed to stabilize, the green aura around it fading to a soft white.

Sasha picked it up. It felt like a normal Psi-door, but slightly heavier.

Jack pulled him into a one-armed hug. “There it is, folks! The Fenton-Nein Ecto-Door!”

The other man gave him a look. “Fenton-Nein?”

“We’ll workshop the name,” Jack promised. “What do you think, Maddie?”

She pursed her lips. “We’ll see. Assuming everything Dr. Nein has said is true, I think it should work as expected. I’m more concerned about the remote viewing function.”

“Well,” Nein said. “There’s only one way to find out.” He looked over Maddie’s shoulder and smiled. “I see you’ve acquired our subject?”

The Fentons turned to see everyone climbing down the stairs. Raz stood with hands on his hips. “One Box Ghost, ready to go Sasha!”

“Where--” Maddie began, before the blue-skinned spirit floated down behind the boy. She froze, and felt Jack freeze as well beside her. 

The Box Ghost seemed ( or pretended to be ) equally startled at seeing her, red eyes boring into her.

“I have agreed to the procedure!” the ghost shouted. He put on a sheepish act when Danny elbowed him. “I mean, I am ready.”

The ghost hunters exchanged a look. Jack shrugged, his eyes telling her that it was her choice.

It’s only the Box Ghost. We can take him. She took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s get started.”

Ford pulled a chair from one of the monitoring stations and bade the ghost to sit. “Alright, Raz, you ready to go where no man has gone before, again?”

“You got it!” the boy agreed.

Maddie frowned. “You can't be serious. You’re sending the child into a dangerous environment, alone?”

“Relax, Dr. Fenton. I have utmost faith in Razputin.”

“Are you sure, Sasha?” Jack asked, concerned. “Even if ghosts aren’t as evil as we thought, they’re still alien. Should you or Cruller go? You’re the adults here.”

“I am needed to monitor things out here,” Sasha pointed out. “I am sure the two of you could handle things without me, but I would prefer to do it myself.”

“And I’m just too old to be gallivanting in parts unknown,” Ford said. He clapped a hand on Raz’s shoulder and smiled. “Trust me, this kid’s got what it takes. And if he doesn’t, I’ll jump in after him and bring him back out.”

“Not that he can actually be hurt,” Sasha pointed out. “It is only his astral projection entering the Box Ghost’s mind. If something unfortunate happens, he’ll only be kicked back to his body.” Seeing the Fentons relax a little, Sasha considered it a victory. “Now.”

He walked over to the Box Ghost and held out the Ecto-door. “Are you ready, sir?”

The ghost balked. “Sir? Me?”

“Yes, you. Are you still willing to go through with this Door’s maiden voyage?”

The Box Ghost looked it over. It looked just like one of the many doors hanging in the Zone. “I… Yes. I will know my past.”

“Very well. Making contact.”

Sasha held the door against the Box Ghost’s head, and the glow surrounding it flashed for a moment, then shifted until it matched the ghost’s own aura. The Box Ghost’s eyes unfocused and he stopped floating, falling onto the chair below him.

There was a frozen moment as everyone waited to see what would happen. Then the computer monitor turned on, static dissolving until it resembled a ghost portal, and the door opened to reveal the same.

Danny suddenly stood, reminded of something. He walked over to close the Portal doors.

“Just so we don’t get interrupted,” he said, when Maddie looked at him curiously.

“We have a connection!” Sasha declared. “One moment…” A red dot appeared in the upper right corner. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to record this for Agent Mentallis. Now Raz--”

“On it!”

Razputin lowered his goggles, which started glowing from within.

Danny’s eyes flashed green, unnoticed by anyone else, as he saw a clear image of Raz jump out of his body and into the door.

The swirling portal on the screen flickered, and then shifted, revealing a dilapidated building surrounded by fencing.

Now Entering:

The Bewarehouse

Chapter Text

The sky was green and filled with black clouds. Grey grass grew on the ground, though it looked more like carpet, and flowers that looked like rolls of tape sprouted out of it.

The building was falling apart, the windows boarded up. A blue light glowed from the gaps in the boards, but nothing else could be seen.

Raz ignored the building and looked around. He’d been around enough minds to know that there were secrets everywhere and he wasn’t going to miss any if he could help it.

“Sasha, can you hear me?” he asked out loud.

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

“I can hear you Raz,” Nein responded. “Do you see anything unusual?”

The view on the screen followed Raz as he looked around the clearing, which was surrounded by a chain link fence with no gate, and beyond that blackened brambles filled every space.

“What exactly qualifies as unusual, here?” Maddie asked, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Nothing so far, but we’ve only just started.” Sasha hummed. “I could make an educated guess based on the color schemes or the environment, but I don’t want to color any opinions yet.”

“I found a figment! Just one, that’s odd,” Raz noted. On the screen, he walked up to a blue outline of a gardener with no face, trimming the brambles.

“A figment of his imagination,” Sasha explained for the sake of the audience. “Every mind has them, some more than others. Their designs and quantity can indicate certain things about a person’s worldview, but largely they simply serve as a small pick-me-up for visiting psychics.”

Raz touched it, and the figment was sucked into him.

“That looks like the only thing here… It’s really quiet out here, Sasha. I don’t even hear any wind.”

“Hmm.”

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

Raz walked up to the front door of the building, taking in the faded sign nailed above it that read, “B WA E.” He guessed it was meant to be “BEWARE” but the E was lying on the ground nearby while the R was nowhere to be seen.

There was a rusty padlock keeping the door closed. Raz tried to force it open anyway, because it looked like enough force would break it, but it held.

“There’s no slot for my archetype to get through…” Raz noted to himself. “No, wait, he couldn’t do anything about the lock anyway.”

Raz followed the wall of the building around. There were more BEWARE signs posted randomly in varying states of disrepair, but nothing of interest. In the back, however, there was an empty cargo trailer with no truck in sight, sitting in front of a loading bay.

The bay door was blocked off by a purple web.

“Ah, mental cobwebs. They mark parts of the mind that haven’t been used in a while. Things the person doesn’t think about, or memories that have been forgotten,” he heard Sasha explaining.

“And memories are exactly what I’m after,” Raz added. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his cobweb duster. It had collected a bit of dust itself, since he hadn’t used it in a while, but a quick adjustment and it worked as good as new.

“Raz, have you been carrying that thing around all this time?” Ford asked, sounding amused.

“Yeah. I never get rid of anything that might be useful.”

“Of course you don’t.”

The nozzle extended and sucked the web right up, and Raz hopped inside.

The shutter door slammed down behind him.

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

“Whoa, it went dark!”

“I can see that, Jack. Razputin, are you alright?” Sasha called, glancing over at where Raz’s body was standing. “Hmm. Ford, could you--?”

“Right.” Cruller waved his hand and Raz was picked up off his feet and lowered back into a seated position.

“Whoa, what just happened? I felt something.”

“Don’t worry about it, Raz. Do you see anything?”

“I’m feeling around for a light swit--oh, here it is.”

The lights came on, and Maddie gasped.

It was an enormous warehouse, with boxes stacked on scaffolding, extending high into the shadows of the impossibly tall, ceiling out of sight. The boxes came in every color, every size, and every shape. Some were torn open and spilling packing peanuts, others were wrapped perfectly.

There were cobwebs everywhere.

Raz was standing in an open area, with many of the rows of shelves blocked off by piles of boxes. But there were three routes still open, with hanging signs marking them.

Raz started tidying up the webs.

“It’s bigger on the inside,” Maddie noted. Then she shook her head, cutting Ford off when he opened his mouth. “Of course it is, why wouldn’t it be? It’s the mind, not real life.”

“Hey, I have a question,” Jack said. “I was kind of expecting to be seeing things from the kid’s point of view. Where’s the viewpoint?”

Sasha blinked. “...I don’t know. Raz?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you turn your head--no, left. More. Mo--no, slightly less. Now look up. Yes, right there. Do you see anything?”

Raz squinted directly at them from the screen. “I see a flashing red light, but it’s kind of hard to see… Oh, I think it’s like a security camera?” He tilted his head and backed up. “Neat, it’s just… sliding on the wall to follow me. Weird.”

The next cobweb uncovered a desk, and a green pig-like thing scuttled out from under it and started running in circles.

“Oh! C’mere you!”

Sasha opened his mouth, but was beaten to the punch by Jazz, to his surprise.

“A memory vault?”

“You know what that is, Jazz?” Danny asked. 

“Yes, it… One of Dr. Nein’s articles had a picture of one, but I thought it was just a metaphor for memories we try to hide from ourselves,” Jazz said, sounding sheepish.

Sasha nodded, pleased. “Indeed, it is a metaphor. But in the mindscape, a metaphor is just as real as anything else.”

Raz finally caught it and smacked it, and the vault fell over, coughing up a film reel. Raz touched it, and the image on the screen was replaced by a slideshow.

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

“Think Inside the Box”

“It always came back around to boxes. It was uncanny.

“I drove a truck loading and unloading boxes.

“I worked in the mailroom, and I sorted boxes going in and out all day.

“The warehouse had me surrounded by boxes constantly.

“On the docks, those shipping containers formed entire mazes of boxes. I got lost there once.

“It always came back to boxes. Freaky coincidence, that.

“Heck, even in my personal life. I made box forts as a kid, and then I did the same with my own little girl.

“Heh. T    ’s were so much better than mine ever were. She’s a real talent. I can’t wait to see what she does when she grows up…”

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

“The Box Ghost had a daughter?!” Tucker shouted.

“...I had a daughter?” the ghost murmured, staring at the picture on the screen. It was in grayscale, and the girl’s face was… smudged, but he could tell she had a wide smile, poking her head out of that box fort. More like a box castle, really, nearly as tall as he was standing next to it.

The man who had to have been him looked… happy, as he pulled her into his arms. The Box Ghost felt a smile tuck at his lips.

Maddie watched the ghost uneasily. Quietly, so as not to be overheard, she turned to Nein and whispered. “Well, I suppose that’s good evidence that ghosts possess memories of the formerly-living. That’s been the leading theory for decades, but it’s nice to have proof.”

“As you say,” Sasha agreed. He frowned at the screen. “Raz, have you seen any other figments?”

“Yeah, but not many. There’s one of the daughter standing over by the aisle marked with an envelope… but I think I’m going to go down this one first,” Raz said, walking towards the sign with the picture of the steering wheel. “Call it a hunch, but I think--”

“I trust your judgement, Razputin. Carry on.”

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

Danny stared at the nearest wall, frowning.

“What are you thinking about, Danny?” Sam asked, glancing his way.

“...I never really thought about it before. But… the Box Ghost used to be someone, didn’t he? He used to be alive.” At their looks, Danny shrugged. “I mean, obviously, but it never really sunk in for me, I guess. It was easier early on to just think of ghosts as monsters, and then I guess I listened when Mom said they weren’t actually dead people, they just had memories… But he really did used to be a living person, didn’t he?” Danny’s eyes widened. “I don’t know if this is okay. What if we see--”

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit here, ‘cause I’m gonna.” Ford plonked himself down next to Danny, cutting off his worrying. “Standing for too long isn’t really good for you at my age, you know.”

Danny fell silent, but kept watching the screen.

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

Raz walked down the aisle. It was a little less cluttered back here, but only a little. As an experiment he’d tried to open one of the boxes. It was labelled ‘June 23, 1955: First Job Interview’ , and it didn’t budge from the shelf. A brief inspection showed that it was stuck to the shelf by a cobweb, but the duster wasn’t able to get it up.

Well, if this was some vast representation of the Box Ghost’s memories, maybe this was just something he forgot over time?

Raz wondered if she should be voicing his thoughts out loud. He had an audience after all.

A green flash caught his eye, and he noticed that one of the boxes was only a figment. He stepped into it and out to the other side of the shelf into another open space.

“...What’s that sound?” Raz looked up. At the top of a stack there was a weeping purse. “Oh, emotional baggage!” Ignoring an incredulous laugh filtering through from the real world, Raz swept his gaze over the room. There was a tag bouncing in midair…

...Oh, those rolls of wrapping paper looked sturdy. Raz jumped up to swing himself from roll to roll until he was high enough to fall into the tag and then swing back up to the purse, which vanished with a happy sigh.

“Huh?”

Raz jerked, looking down from the top of the stack. “An Enabler?”

He looked around, but there were no other entities nearby, just the overall-clad Enabler watching him, oddly silent. After a moment it shook its head and started loading boxes onto a trolley Raz hadn’t noticed before. 

“Work harder, not smarter,” it muttered.

Cautiously, Raz climbed down. “Uh, hello?”

The Enabler grunted.

“...Uh, what are you doing?”

“Gotta load the shelves. Work to be done. People need their junk.” It rambled semi-coherently until its trolley was full, turning on its heel and rolling the load away.

Raz frowned, then decided to follow it.

“This is weird… why isn’t it attacking me?” he asked quietly. Not quietly enough, since the Enabler gave him an annoyed look over its shoulder.

“I’m not certain. I’ve encountered non-hostile Censors before, but not Enablers,” Sasha mused.

“Maybe it’s just because it’s alone?” Ford suggested. “Enablers aren’t great at fighting on their own.”

“I can do anything I set my mind to, I just don’t want to,” it snapped.

Raz jogged to walk alongside it. “So why are you doing this?”

The Enabler sighed. “Gotta work. Gotta pay the bills. She’s not going to.” It cringed at itself. “I didn’t say that.”

It moved faster, walking ahead and turning a corner. When Raz tried to follow it, it was gone.

“Uh--” Raz blinked and looked around. The shelves had disappeared at some point, leaving the boxes just stacked on the floor. And the floor was rumbling? When did the ceiling get so close?

“Ow!” Raz walked into a wall, not seeing it until it was right in front of him. He fell backwards, rubbing his nose, when the wall split open--oh, a door.

Raz hopped down and the doors closed behind him. He was getting tired of that pretty quickly. 

He’d emerged from a truck’s trailer into a mostly empty parking lot. The sky above was dark and starless--no wait. Raz could just barely make out the cloud cover. That wasn’t really important. The only source of light now was the door of a church. Raz walked in.

The chapel was empty except for a handful of faceless figments and another memory vault. There was no one at the altar, but sitting on it was… a ring box. Empty.

He slapped the vault and the reel popped out.

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

“It’s Hip to be Square”

“She loved me once, she must have. I know I wasn’t the easiest guy to get along with. I could be goofy and defensive, and my job meant I was away from home for weeks at a time sometimes. There must have been something there, for her to stick with me as long as she did.

“I didn’t hate driving the truck. I liked it even. I met a lot of interesting people and went to a lot of neat places. I wish I could have spent more time with her, but the money was good and as long as I made enough to support us, it was worth it.

“N     loved me. I know she did. She said yes, after all.

“It was almost perfect. I saved up and bought her a ring while I was in Nevada, and I kept it safe in my pocket for weeks, right next to my heart, until I could deliver it to her.

“...It must have fallen out at some point, because when I proposed to her the ring was gone. There went a hundred and fifty bucks down the drain. But she said yes anyway. N     didn’t care, said it was the thought that counted. Looking back, was her laugh a little forced?

“...I wouldn’t like to think she felt obligated. I loved her. That has to count for something.

“I kept the ring box. It would make for a fun story to tell one day.”

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

Raz picked up the ring box and looked around. There was light outside now.

He walked out and squinted. The clouds had split in a perfectly straight line from one end of the sky to another… and continued to open?

Oh. Those flaps.

The box upended itself and Raz fell back into the main area. A toy truck fell on his head, but he’d had worse.

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

The Box Ghost blinked. “I… remember her now!”

The Fentons looked at him.

“But… what was her name? I think it started with an ‘N’. And why can’t I remember her face?” He rubbed at his scalp through his hat, as if trying to see if that would help.

“Memories degrade over time,” Sasha said, not unkindly. “If it’s been long enough, certain details might have been lost. But fear not. The memories might still exist elsewhere.”

Jack frowned as the ghost settled back down.

It rankled him slightly to feel sympathy for a ghost, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t right now. He couldn’t imagine forgetting Maddie…

Sasha looked up suddenly. 

“What?” Jack asked.

Sasha, is everything going alright? You never called me back.

“I’m talking with a colleague, one moment,” Sasha said. Milla, I’m so sorry about earlier. Things have settled. Somewhat. I’m conducting an experiment now.

Fond exasperation. I probably should have expected as much. Can you give me any details?

Of course, but-- Sasha hummed. Turning to the Fentons, he cleared his throat. “Would you mind terribly if my colleague joined us?”

Raz stopped where he was and looked towards the camera still following him. “Was that Milla?”

Jack smiled, then faltered and looked at Maddie, who was frowning. “Is she one of your Psychonauts too?” she asked.

“She is.”

“Vodello’s not much of a lab person,” Ford said, standing. “But she’s good at ending fights. Might be smart to get her.”

“...We might as well,” Maddie sighed.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Ford clapped his hands. “Take five, Razputin.”

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

The Ghost Investigation Wing owned this town.

Well, no, Mayor Masters owned this town, but he let the GIW have the run of the place more often than not. He even generously supplied them with much-needed funds.

Ever since those crackpot ghost hunters turned out to be not so crazy after all--or maybe crazier than anyone thought, depending on your point of view--and punched a hole in reality, the ghosts had been pouring into town nonstop.

It had taken a while for news to reach the GIW, and a bit longer than that to actually investigate. They’d gotten false reports from the Fentons before, and they couldn’t afford to keep chasing geese. But then pictures started appearing on social media…

The GIW took them down, of course, and then started investigating in earnest, and oh man. They’d hit the jackpot this time.

The operative known as W hadn’t actually believed in ghosts, he admitted it. Truth be told he wasn’t sure how he stumbled into this job. He’d been rejected from the Psychonauts for all kinds of stupid reasons like not being strong enough, or having a criminal records--unfair things like that. The GIW had snatched him up right after and it’d been… not great, honestly. They were the laughing stock of the US Government, to the point that officially they were actually an independent research organization that the Government didn’t associate with. Unofficially too. They had no money, ever. If the first director hadn’t been rich they’d have run out of funds ages ago.

But now? Now they had a wealthy backer and actual evidence. They had proof that they hadn’t been wasting their lives. (Agent Y, the oldest operative, had actually broken down in joyful tears when he saw his first ghost.)

Alpha was confident that soon they’d have enough evidence to take to the UN and get the Anti-Ecto Act signed into true law, and then the fun could really start. They’d show the Psychonauts who the real top dogs were.

Not right now though. W was off-duty now. But as soon as he clocked back in, boy howdy, he’d show them!

He was walking out of his favorite coffee shop with a very expensive donut in hand when he overheard some of the local teens talking. Gossip was a valuable resource, so he sat down nearby and listened to it. You never knew what you’d hear in Amity Park.

...Huh. So there was an unfamiliar ghost around, who’d aided Phantom earlier… The blonde kid had been watching from behind a corner, foolish. Didn’t he know ghosts were dangerous?

This ghost sounded like an ugly one, so W strained his disused mental powers and plucked the image from the kid’s mind, ignoring how he suddenly faltered in his description. Oh, yep, that’s ugly all right. Flat head, a mop of black hair and sunglasses… striped sweater… firing red energy from his… forehead.

W chewed slowly. That looked a lot like…

Nein.

…

It was probably nothing, but just to be safe he’d let someone know when his next shift started.

Chapter Text

Raz had parked himself in front of the mail aisle and was occupying his time by attempting to read a few of the loose letters and mostly failing. They were all sealed by those purple cobwebs, and trying to clean them off just resulted in the whole letter getting sucked into that weird vacuum, which made the Box Ghost wince each time. Jazz had walked over to talk with the ghost, asking leading questions that Danny assumed were meant to help with his recovering memories. Mom was watching them suspiciously, ready to move the instant the Box Ghost turned violent.

Danny wasn’t sure of this whole thing himself, but he doubted she had cause to worry. It was bizarre seeing the Box Ghost so subdued. The guy had always been kind of pathetic, but in an “angry chihuahua” kind of way. This was a bit more uncomfortable.

Dad at least had adapted to the situation, which was surprising. Danny had always thought he’d be the less flexible one. The man glanced the ghost’s way every now and then but mostly he was focused on taking notes on what they’d seen so far.

Sasha had gone outside for a smoke while Ford blinked away to get that other agent or something, and the end result of all of this was that Danny, Sam and Tucker didn’t have much to do.

Danny corrected himself as he looked to either side. Sam was looking through those comics again, and making her own notes, while Tucker was furiously searching the Internet.

“What are you doing there, Tuck?”

“Huh? Oh dude, this is crazy.” Holding the PDA up so Danny could see, Tucker grinned widely. “I tried to search the Psychonauts again, and I noticed it was kind of weird that True Psychic Tales had two different websites claiming to be the official one, but one of them was like super bare-bones and lame. Not anything an actual publishing company would use. So I checked under the hood--”

“You wh--” 

“I opened the page’s source code,” Tucker clarified, “and found a hidden link to the actual Psychonauts company website. It’s actually real!”

“Tucker, we already knew it was real. We’ve met two agents,” Sam said.

“Three. Raz is apparently one.”

“Sure, Danny.”

“They could have just been cosplayers,” Tucker waved away. “Besides, remember when Desiree brought those movie monsters to life? Femalien was there, but that doesn’t mean aliens exist.” He paused, glancing at Raz’s body still sitting still on the floor. “...No, probably not.”

“Tucker, focus,” Danny said, snapping his fingers. “The Psychonauts?”

“Right, right. Check this out.” He scrolled through the various pages. “Lunchroom options, mailing addresses, employment opportunities… I already checked the listed email addresses, and they’re legitimate!”

Danny, brow furrowed. “...Tucker, did you hack into a government agency’s company email?”

Tuck grinned, adjusting his glasses. “Well, I don’t like to brag, but--”

Ford popped back in, accompanied by a Latina woman that instantly stole both Tucker and Danny’s full attention.

“Ugh. My eyes…” Sam made a face at her flaming orange dress.

The woman took in the room with a mild frown. “Oh, you could use some color down here, all that blue can really bring you down, you know…” She noticed the Box Ghost and looked him up and down, making him twitch uncomfortably. “...My goodness. Razputin does it again.”

“Milla, is that you?” Raz on the screen looked up at what Danny presumed was the camera. He smiled.

“Raz, darling! You really have to stop finding new cases! This was supposed to be an easy one,” Milla said, but there was no heat in her voice. She sounded more amused than anything.

“It hasn’t been hard, just… weird.”

“Of course, Raz.” Milla pulled a small box out from under her shawl and set it in Raz’s body’s lap, holding a finger to her lips when she caught Danny’s eye. “It wouldn’t be a birthday if he didn’t get to open at least one of his presents,” she said quietly.

“You must be Agent Vodello,” Maddie said, guarded as she held out a hand.

“Oh please, call me Milla.” The psychic smiled, taking the hand and shaking it firmly. “Agent Vodello is just for when I’m on a mission. Sasha seemed excited to be working with you.”

Maddie blinked, taking a quick glance at the door where the frustrating man had stepped out. “He did? How could you tell?”

“I’ve worked with Sasha a long time. There’s no one who knows his mind better than me, and vice versa. I could tell his excitement through our psychic link, and now that I’m here I can almost taste it!”

“Sorry, that’s probably me!” Jack said, patting his stomach. “I think the sausage was a bit out of date this morning.”

Milla laughed, startled. “I like your energy!”

Maddie relaxed, smile turning a bit more genuine.

Sasha came back down the stairs, finishing off his cigarette and tossing it in the trash can by the door. “Milla, glad you could join us. Have you already introduced yourselves?”

There was a round of affirmations, and he nodded.

“Raz, we’re ready to continue if you are.”

“I’m always ready.”

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

Raz went back on his way, cleaning up cobwebs as he went. He’d never had to worry about the Duster getting full, but he was wondering if maybe he should. There were just so many , and he didn’t know what the max capacity was. Was there a max capacity? It was all mental, and they stopped being webs and reverted to loose mental energy in the real world but still...

...How did that happen, even? He wasn’t touching the Duster in the real world, so how--

Raz shook his head. He’d ask Agent Mentallis and get answers he didn’t understand later. Right now he needed to focus on the mission.

The boxes were still around, but the scaffolding had switched to wooden shelves and cubby holes at some point, and a lot of letters were mixed in. Greeting cards fluttered around like butterflies and the concrete floor had reverted back to the grass he’d found outside the warehouse. A bit livelier, too; still grey, but with hints of blue-green to it.

One of the cards drifted down to perch on the Duster Raz was carrying under his arm.

It opened its wings, and a tiny speaker chirped “hAppY BirThdaY dAdDy!” before flying away again.

“Interesting,” Sasha said. He stroked his chin in thought. “Based on the environment change, I would wager that this is a time of the Box Ghost’s life that he recalls fondly.” A pause. “Or would, if he could recall.”

Raz nodded, thoughtfully. A whirring caught his attention, and he looked up to see the camera that was still following him drifting. Deciding to follow its cue, Raz found another figment ‘blocking’ a secret passage. He had to crawl on his hands and knees to get through, but after a while it widened enough for him to look up.

“Raz, where did you go? The viewpoint didn’t follow you.”

“I’m just looking, Milla. I think I hear more emotional baggage.”

He found a pair of tags hooked together, which was unusual, then the tunnel suddenly let out into a larger room.

A familiar looking room. Very familiar.

“...Ford?”

“I see it, Raz.”

“This is the Mailroom at the Motherlobe!” he said, staring wide-eyed into the camera, which had appeared over the desk.

“I see it, Raz!”

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

“I thought you said you didn’t recognize him,” Jazz accused.

“I don’t!” Ford snapped. Then he faltered. “Kind of.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Maddie asked, eyes narrowing. “Either you do or you don’t.”

Ford grumbled, waving the Fenton women away. “If we don’t find out in a second I’ll tell you later. Carry on Raz.”

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

Raz rolled his eyes, taking in the room.

It wasn’t exactly the Motherlobe Mailroom, but it was close enough; it was likely some things had changed in however many years it had been since this happened.

There was a Hatbox sitting on top of the mail slots behind the desk, and Raz clambered over it to attach its tag. As it faded out of sight, there was an annoyed grumble and then Raz was being swatted by a broom.

“Get down from there! This ain’t no jungle gym, you hooligan!”

Raz plucked the broom out of his assailant’s hands with his Telekinesis, and was absolutely unsurprised to see Ford in his mailroom uniform glaring up at him.

It was a much younger version of the man, still with most of his hair and only graying instead of the real version’s current white, but it couldn’t be anyone but Ford. He was fuzzy at the edges, and his eyes were the wrong color, and he was wearing a shawl made of mental cobwebs.

“Get down from there before I get you down!”

“Sorry, Ford,” Raz said automatically, climbing back down.

Mental Ford squinted at him. “...Do I know you?”

“Well--”

“No, I’m pretty sure I don’t.” Ford pulled a hair out of his mustache and his eyes unfocused for a moment. When Raz went to speak, he snapped out of it and blinked down at him. “Well hello, kid. What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I’m looking around. Trying to find…”

“There’s nothing for you to find here, not unless you’re expecting mail!” Ford snapped. “And get out of here, senior mailroom staff only!”

Raz winced at the sudden yelling. “Wait, wait! I, uh, I’m the new intern!”

“Are you now.” Mental Ford raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Tru--I mean, the Grand Head sent me down to send a message.”

Ford shook his head, irritated. “Good grief, that upstart is always sending me messages, asking me how to run the place. As if I have any clue! I sort mail, that’s it!”

“Well, he just wanted me to remind you that you need to keep your uniform in shape.” At the old man’s confusion, Raz pointed. “That shawl. It’s not regulation.”

Ford’s eyes widened and he started picking at the cobwebs. “What the--How long have I been wearing this thing? I haven’t been standing still long enough to gather cobwebs, I’m too busy!”

“Well, I can help you with that, here, let me just…” Raz activated the Duster, which snaked out and sucked the cobwebs right off of him.

Mental Ford slapped it away. “Cut that out! I know Otto’s work when I see it and I don’t want it crawling all over me!”

Raz pulled away. “Sorry! I was just trying to--uh, Ford? Mr. Cruller?”

Mental Ford had frozen in place, eyes wide and drifting in either direction. The light overhead flickered, and the letters in the cubbies rustled in a wind Raz didn’t feel.

“Ford--real Ford--what’s going on?”

“Well, if I had to guess, our ghost friend is remembering me. I must have been important to him, or something.” Raz heard Ford hum. “Yep, he’s spaced-out too. Give it a minute.”

Raz tapped his foot, waiting, but Mental Ford didn’t seem to be moving any time soon, so he looked around. There was a calendar on the wall, claiming that this was November, 1964.

“...Oh, this is only two years after--” Raz stopped himself. “No wonder you’re in such bad shape. This must be before your alternate personalities finished stabilizing.”

“That would explain why he doesn’t remember this,” Milla agreed. “Poor Ford always had such trouble remembering what happened when he went outside his cave.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Milla.”

“Wait, back up,” Raz heard Jazz interrupt. “Alternate personalities?”

Raz raised his voice. “If Sam has Issue #44 in her stack, that one describes Ford’s troubles in the epilogue of the Grulovia saga!”

“Uh…” He could just barely hear the goth girl rustling through her comics. “...Yeah, here it is!”

“Could you not be so loud?”

Raz spun at the voice, expecting to see the Box Ghost, but instead he found it coming from another Enabler standing there, wearing the mailroom uniform and a tired expression.

It rubbed at its ears. “It’s really loud out there, and this is the only place I can get any quiet.” It gave Mental Ford a sour look. “Usually, anyway.”

“Oh, sorry.” Raz hesitated. “Hey, uh, do you work here?”

The Enabler rolled its eyes. “No, I’m just picking up my mail. Of course I work here.” It plucked at the pockets of its uniform, then sighed. “Sorry, kid, I shouldn’t snap. It’s just been hard since the boss went nuts.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.” It heaved a long box onto its shoulder and carried it over to the stamp machine, Raz following. “I’ve worked here for six years, and it’s been pretty great. Working for a secret agency, finding out I’m psychic--”

Raz gasped. “You are? ”

“Heh, yeah. Not a very good one, I was never able to pick up all those tricks.” It shrugged, inspecting the box’s label and clicking its tongue. “Drat, insufficient postage. I expected better of Ms. O’Pia. Anyway, yeah. Apparently I do something called ‘textile telekinesis.’”

Raz tilted his head. “You mean ‘tactile?’”

The Enabler snapped its fingers. “Yeah, that one. It’s kind of like superstrength, or something, I didn’t get it, but it’s why I never had trouble with heavy boxes back when I drove a truck.” It looked around. “Hey, have you seen my tape dispenser?”

Raz found it and handed it over. “This one?”

“Right, thanks. Anyway, the Boss over there, believe it or not, used to be the Psychonauts’ founder .” It seemed to be expecting a reaction.

Raz gasped as theatrically as a circus kid could. “That guy? But he’s nuts!”

The Enabler chuckled. “You’re telling me. I don’t know what happened, but he just snapped one day and now he thinks he works in the mailroom, so he does. Also the bowling alley, and he’s taken over the employee breakroom to turn it into a barbershop.” It grumbled at that. “I was keeping a peach cobbler in the fridge in there and he ate it right in front of me… But aside from that it’s not so bad. I’m making good money.”

Raz nodded at that. The Enabler didn’t seem inclined to keep talking, so Raz said goodbye and turned to try and find the cubby he’d crawled out of.

He couldn’t find it, but he did find several Figments of letters and stamps. There was one box addressed to “ME,” though. Curious.

“Hey, I think this one’s for--”

“What the blazes--who are you?!” Mental Ford suddenly came back to awareness and was glaring daggers at the Enabler.

It sighed, not bothering to face him. “It’s me, sir, *** P***, remember? I’ve worked here for six years.”

“Oh, you think you’re funny, do you? I’ve been here for nearly thirty years and I ain’t never seen you before. Go back to your plants and leave my mail alone.”

The Enabler turned around, looking bored. “Yeah, you said that yesterday too. It’s getting old.”

Ford bristled, and the shelves started shaking as his fractured mind lashed out. Raz gulped. He’d never seen any version of Ford look that mad.

“Mr. P***, I don’t think I like your tone.”

The Enabler’s eyes widened. “Uh, sorry sir! I just--I mean--”

“I don’t want your excuses, P***! I didn’t half-drown in a pile of hair and get bowled over by flying packages to get sassed at by a crazed mailman!”

“But--what? No, you--”

“This is a national park, young man, and you can’t take those canoes out on the water without a license! I’ve got too many messes to clean up, scalps to cut, and burgers to flip, I don’t need uppity little germs rocking the boat and complaining about their score! Learn to throw straight!” Mental Ford blinked, staggering and holding his head. “Get out! You’re fired!”

The Enabler gaped. “You can’t--!”

“FIRED!”

The box the Enabler was working on burst into flame, sending the Enabler, and Raz, hurrying out the door.

The room outside was dark, and Raz lost track of the Enabler pretty quick.

“You can’t be serious.”

The voice was the Enabler’s--the Box Ghost’s--but Raz couldn’t tell where it was coming from. He just kept moving.

“I’m sorry, R*****, but Ford’s in a delicate state right now.”

That was Agent Mentallis’s voice. He hoped the others could hear it.

“Yeah, I noticed. But you can’t--he’s not right in the head! You can't actually let him fire me!”

Mentallis sighed. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“But… But… I can work somewhere else! I can be a janitor--”

“Ford’s doing that too.”

“What about a cook? I can cook!”

“We’re trying to get Ford out of the cafeteria, but the smell of bacon keeps bringing him back.”

“I can--”

“Mr. P***. It’s not fair, but…” He sighed again. “We still don’t know if Ford is ever going to recover. He’s been hostile to anyone who enters what he perceives as ‘his’ space. We should have seen this coming.”

“...Maybe he won’t even remember. Maybe I can go back and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I’m sorry but it’s far too dangerous. I will personally make sure you get a nice severance package, and I’ll write you a letter of recommendation for your next job. Goodbye.”

The next step Raz took sent him falling. The darkness vanished and he fell back into the aisle he’d left behind, a pile of torn envelopes breaking his fall.

He stared at nothing for a moment, then picked himself up.

“Poor guy.”

He looked back and saw the cubby he’d crawled into had been covered up with packing tape. Looking the other way… the grass gave way to concrete again, and there was a door some distance away. He started walking.

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

Seeing a person’s deepest pains and worst memories laid bare was never a pleasant experience. Milla had, unfortunately, gotten used to it over her career, but she never enjoyed it. The others clearly didn’t, either.

Jack leaned back, taking a deep breath as discomfort came off him in waves. “Yikes.” He shook his head, trying to clear it.

Sasha, ever dutiful, was taking notes. “I’ll have to ask Agent Mentallis about this. He might be able to remember it.”

Ford had left the room after his memory-self’s breakdown, looking ashamed. 

Milla was more focused on the Box Ghost, who hadn’t tuned back in after blanking out earlier. His eyes were vacant and empty… but Milla could feel the despair radiating off him, drowning. Smothering. Empty.

Uncomfortably familiar.

She hoped that things got better after this… but she suspected it wouldn’t. She was tempted to try and comfort him, but the red-headed girl appeared to have it covered, so her attention was pulled back to the screen as Raz opened the door at the end of the hall, and her heart fell at the sight of what was clearly a child’s bedroom.

Another piece of Emotional Baggage, the suitcase, was sobbing in the corner. The camera stopped focusing on Raz and fixed on a music box, tinkling away sadly by the bed. A tiny fairy danced inside it.

There was no child in the room, just a figment of one, turned away with her face not visible while she played with a figment of her father, who looked tired and sad.

Milla sucked air through her teeth. She’d seen similar scenes too often, both in the mind and in reality. They almost never ended well.

Raz found a Memory Vault and smacked it open, and the image shifted to the usual film-reel.

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

“Feeling Boxed In”

“When I found out N**** was pregnant, I started looking for new work. Driving a truck was fine, but I wanted--needed--something that kept me close to home. I wanted to be there for my kid.

“Working for the Psychonauts was a dream come true. Yes, they were spies and all, but more importantly it was a well-paying job with a not-too-long commute with interesting co-workers. It even made my name into a pun, or something. It was everything I wanted. 

“Then little T**** was born and she was everything I wanted. She was perfect. Daddy’s little girl.

“My mom gave me a music box that belonged to her and her mother before her. She wanted me to pass it down to T****, make it a family heirloom. T**** loved it, couldn’t sleep without it.

“Six years flew by, and everything was great. N****… She wasn’t fond of psychics, and finding out I was one was a lurch for both of us. But watching my little princess grow up was worth all the grief. She was a troublemaker, always getting into things. She was more like me than her mother.

“Maybe if she wasn’t things would have turned out different.”

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

Raz picked up the music box and closed it, cutting off its tune. Something thunked behind him, and he turned.

He nearly dropped the box in shock. Everything in the room was gone. Posters torn down, clothes gone, drawers emptied, bedsheets taken off the bed. There was a man sobbing in the corner where the suitcase had been.

Before Raz could think to do anything, the ceiling opened up, and he was sucked up and dumped out of the box back into the main room, music box still in hand.

Raz looked up at the remaining aisle. It was marked with a boat, and Raz could just about smell salt on the air as he approached. Given what the Box Ghost wore, that probably meant the docks were next.

He looked down at the music box one last time, taking in the nicks and scratches before putting it in his backpack.

“Two down, one to go, probably.”

Chapter Text

As Raz walked down the hallway and the shelves turned from metal to rickety wood and the floor became mossy and damp, Sasha and Milla went over his notes so far.

“Not a single Censor?” Milla asked. “That’s not a good sign…”

“A what?” Jack asked. “Wait, I think you mentioned those earlier.

Sasha nodded. “Indeed. Censors exist in the mindscape to stamp out thoughts that don’t belong. Think of them as the mind’s immune system.” He flipped through his notes before handing them off to Milla. “That there aren’t any Censors is not necessarily a bad sign, but a healthy mind tends to have them wandering around. They get rid of intrusive thoughts and random impulses. If for example it ever suddenly occurs to you that there’s nothing stopping you from sticking your hand in the toaster, or throwing your plate on the ground, it would be your Censors’ job to quash those thoughts so you can get on with things. A lack of Censors suggests poor impulse control.”

“Uh, Sasha?” Raz said, sounding worried.

They looked back up the screen and Maddie made a face. “And those are?”

Milla frowned sadly. “Regrets.”

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

It was the strangest thing Raz had ever seen. The aisle had finally ended and opened up into a pier under an overcast sky. There were Regrets everywhere, walking and flying around and moving crates and boxes.

A pair of them were loading a palette full of what looked like auto parts and wrapping the whole thing in mental cobwebs. There were a lot of those packaged palettes sitting around, with a crane loading them onto a ship.

A few of them glanced his way curiously, but like the Enablers none of them seemed aggressive, so Raz walked over to a blue Deep Regret who looked important.

“Excuse me? What are you doing?” Raz questioned, then cringed, rubbing his ears at the harsh buzzing he got in response. 

Regrets couldn’t talk, it seemed. Bummer.

The Deep Regret took flight to help steady the crane and Raz took the opportunity to look over the load. This one had a bunch of picture frames inside and through the purple webbing he could just about make out a picture of a happy family.

“...Sasha? Milla? Any idea what’s going on?”

“Well, ships can have all manner of symbolism. Given the surroundings, I think we can rule out faith or hope for a better tomorrow,” Sasha mused.

“They are also symbols of disaster,” Milla added. “With all these Regrets loading them up, I’d bet that these are memories our ghostly friend would rather forget.”

Raz frowned. “But… I thought he didn’t want to--”

“Maybe not consciously,” Ford said, tuning back in. He sighed heavily. “But we all have things we’d rather not remember, deep down. Or did you forget our adventure already?”

Raz grimaced at the reminder. “...Well, the way I see it, the Box Ghost can’t remember enough to know what he doesn’t want to know. Maybe I should clean everything up and let him make up his mind then.”

A Regret standing nearby stopped working to look at him, thoughtful. It tapped his shoulder and pointed up to the deck of the ship.

“Up there?”

It buzzed softly in response. The Regret turned away and got back to work.

Raz hummed, looking around. There wasn’t a gangplank or a walkway anywhere, so the best way to get on would have to be… the crane. Raz hopped on top of the next palette in line and waited. When the crane swung back around, he jumped up and climbed the rope until he was on top of the arm.

From up here, he could see that the deck of the ship was just… covered in mental cobwebs. Glowing purple from bow to stern.

He walked to the center of the crane and hopped down to the walkway surrounding the cabin. Sadly, he couldn’t get more than a cursory glance before the Regret sitting in the controller’s seat snapped at him and drove him out.

Making his way to the deck below, Raz saw how dilapidated and rusty everything was. It was even more dilapidated below the deck. He was tempted to clean up the  webs carpeting the area, but it almost looked like they were holding the ship together. 

Best not, he decided. In the mindscape, things usually were as bad as they looked.

“Man, this place looks like it could fall apart any second,” he said out loud. “Is this really the best way to ship cargo? It would be way too easy to lose it all at sea.”

Raz paused, then turned around to take in the ship again. Covered in cobwebbed boxes representing painful memories.

“...Oh.” Well that was upsetting. Raz shook himself and kept looking. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for yet, but--

A loud cracking sound pulled his attention and Raz automatically moved to find the source. Among the newest palettes--Raz recognized the auto parts nearby--he found yet another Enabler. And it was the strangest one by far.

It was dressed similarly to the Box Ghost in the real world, and carried a bent gaff hook it was using to pry open a crate, tearing through the cobwebs surrounding it. Nearby, a Duffel Bag was quietly whimpering to itself, staring at the tag hanging around the Enabler’s ear.

The Enabler managed to get the crate open and fell to its knees, crawling through the debris frantically, grabbing things and tossing them aside at random, muttering furiously to itself.

Raz lifted his goggles as he walked closer. “Uh. Hi?”

The Enabler flinched, and suddenly it was on its feet, swinging the hook around. “What?! Get away! Leave me alone!”

Raz ducked under the wild swinging. “Hey! Stop that, I’m not going to--hey, quit it!”

Finally registering what was in front of it, the Enabler stopped attacking, leaning heavily on the side of the crate. “A kid? Listen, this isn’t the place for you, alright? It’s dangerous!” It clawed at its own ear, nearly dislodging the tag and setting the Duffel Bag into renewed sobbing.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” Raz assured it. “I’m here to… help?” He trailed off as the Enabler’s eyes grew unfocused.

It scoffed, turning back around and resuming its search and generally ignoring him, throwing all manner of things from the container and scattering it about.

Dodging some car parts, Raz stepped up next to it. “...What are you looking for?”

It gave him a tired look. “I don’t know.” It paused, looking over the now mostly-empty crate. “It’s not here, either…” It slumped, falling onto its rump.

“Um, there there?” Raz patted the Enabler on the back. “I’m sure it’ll get better…”

“No, it won’t, it will never get better. It won’t. Everything was already as good as it could be, but then it all fell apart. It can’t be put back in the box, there’s nothing left.” The Enabler pulled its knees close, staring straight ahead as it rambled. “I have to find it, I need it. Once I have it everything will be better. As soon as I find it, I’ll know what it is and everything will be good.”

Not sure what to say, Raz looked back at the emotional baggage. “...Well, I think I know something that might make you feel better,” he offered, reaching for the tag.

As soon as his fingers brushed against it, the Enabler jumped to its feet and glared at him. Picking up the Duffel Bag with the hand opposite its tagged ear, it shook the hook at him again.

“No! No, I don’t deserve it! I need to remember, I won’t forget!”

“Please let me help!” Raz pleaded. “That bag’s just weighing you down, once it’s taken care of--”

“ NO! ” It screamed, shoving Raz hard enough that he fell. It looked wide-eyed in terror between the boy and its hands before it started clawing at its face again. “I can’t feel better! I need to remember, I need to hurt! If I stop hurting, I’ll… I’ll forget…”

Raz held up his hand, looking placating, while reaching out with his telekinesis to grab the tag. “If that’s all that it takes to forget it, it probably wasn’t that worth remembering--”

The Enabler hissed and dove at him, and things quickly devolved into a whirlwind of scratching and growling and sobbing.

“Razputin!”

Raz wasn’t sure who called out, but he couldn’t spare the time to think about it.

...Wait. Time .

Raz flipped a switch in his brain, and suddenly the Enabler was moving in slow motion in midair. He crawled out from underneath it and plucked the tag from its ear. Getting the bag out of its fingers was trickier, but he managed. Reuniting the two earned him a happy sigh as the bag faded, just in time for the Enabler to return to normal speed and collapse to the deck. It pounded its fist against the wood, shoulders shaking.

A series of angry buzzing drew both their attention to the crane, where the Regret was shouting down at them and waving its fist.

The Enabler got to its feet, aided by its hook, and ran. It shoved Raz as it fled, jumping over the side. There was a chorus of surprised buzzes as it pushed through the crowd on the pier.

Raz watched from the deck as it disappeared into one of the warehouses. Frowning, he jumped down to the pier himself.

The Regret that had spoken to him earlier flew over, silent.

“What now?” Raz asked.

It shrugged sadly.

Sighing, Raz looked around as the Deep Regret whistled, sending the workers scattering until the site was empty. A drop of rain pattered on Raz’s head.

“...Oh, no…” He sighed.

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

As Raz looked for shelter, Jack tapped a steady rhythm against the console.

“...You know,” he began, speaking quietly. For Jack, this was what most people would consider a polite volume, but it was still enough to let the others know he was being serious. “My gramps was a ghost hunter like any other Fenton, but my granny… She was always more philosophical about ghosts than he was. They used to have arguments all the time--they loved each other, but man could they argue--about how ghosts should be treated.”

“How so?” Jazz asked, interested.

“Not like you’re probably thinking, Jazzy,” Jack said, apologetic. “No, they both agreed that ghosts needed to be hunted. The difference was in why.” He pulled a chair over and sat down. “Gramps always thought like I do--did?” He shrugged. “Ghosts are dangerous, they hate the living, they need to be captured and if possible destroyed, to keep those around them safe. Granny said they needed to be put out of their misery.” He sighed. “She always said that happy people don’t make ghosts. Seems she was probably right.”

After a moment of silence, Jack’s eyes widened. “Not about the putting them down thing, the, uh--”

“We get it, Dad.” Danny looked over at the Box Ghost, who was still in some kind of trance. It was hard to see what with his blue skin, but Danny swore he thought the ghost’s eyes looked watery.

The psychics were discussing something. He couldn’t really make out what they were saying without getting closer, but he could make out a few technical-sounding words. Jazz would probably know what they meant.

Danny was starting to get restless. He wasn’t used to sitting still doing nothing this long, but he couldn’t just leave . He almost wished he could have gone inside the mind with the kid.

Danny tilted his head, thinking. Could he? He obviously couldn’t now, but was that a thing he could do? How would you even test that?

Ugh. All this psychic stuff was making his head hurt.

Sam snorted at his expression.

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

Raz found himself ducking into another warehouse, but he immediately wondered if he’d made a mistake when all the sound from the rain cut out the second he stepped inside.

Slowly, Raz turned his head. It wasn’t a small room, but all the boxes everywhere made it seem smaller than it was. Wooden crates and cardboard boxes were stacked high, though not like the main area of the mind had them.

His eyes kept being pulled to one box in particular. It was bigger than the others, in the center of the room, sitting on top of two smaller ones. Most of it hung off to one side, and it looked like a stiff breeze would send it crashing to the floor.

Raz shuddered. He tried to turn away, but it almost felt like something was pulling his eyes back towards it.

“...I don’t like this,” he said to himself.

The door had vanished behind him, so Raz got to work cleaning up the cobwebs. A lot of these crates were labelled; most of them seemed to hold things like construction equipment. One cobweb had been covering a calendar, and revealing it showed that whatever was happening, it was happening in 1972.

“Guys, I’m not seeing a way out of here,” Raz said as he walked towards the last web in the corner.

Sasha hummed. “Neither can I, although of course that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. It’s rare to find an area of a mind that is completely cut off.”

“Perhaps you should leave anyway, Raz,” Milla suggested, sounding worried. “I’m not liking the vibe of this place at all.”

“Alright,” Raz agreed as he sucked in the last of the webs. “I’m sure we’ve found enough evidence for Dr. Fenton to work something out. Let me just get this last one, and--um!” He nearly dropped his duster in surprise.

The last cobweb had been hiding a man. He wore tattered overalls and a threadbare beanie. He had a scruffy beard that clearly hadn’t been touched up or washed in months.

…Box Ghost?

Raz and the man stared at each other for a moment. “Hello?”

The man twitched at the sound, slowly walking forward. He patted Raz on the head as he walked by, picking up a crowbar as he went. He got to prying open crates, which he did with well-practiced ease, opening each with a single tug and tsking in dull disappointment at the contents.

Raz walked up to him, looking him over. “Listen, Mr. Box.” No response. “Box Ghost? That is you, right?” The man didn’t acknowledge him, but his next motion allowed Raz to see the faded nametag pinned to his shirt. “Mister… Post?”

“It’s Bob.” The man paused and looked at him, eyes focusing for a moment. “You shouldn’t be here, kid.” Another crate opened, and Bob picked up a brick that fell and inspected it, looking for something that wasn’t there before tossing it over his shoulder. “It’s dangerous.”

Raz shook his head. “I feel like I just had this conversation. I’m here to help, remember?”

“...I don’t remember much, but I know I’ve never seen you before. Get out of here before you get hurt.”

“What are you doing here?” Raz asked.

Bob snorted, mumbling an answer Raz didn’t understand. He opened another crate, and a wheeled cart rolled out. Bob stared at it for a moment.

“...I’m looking for a box,” he said, sounding like he was speaking from far away. “I don’t know what’s in it. But it’s important.” He sat down on the cart and let it carry him a few feet while he played with the steering column. “I think…”

He grimaced, eyes shut, as he pulled off his hat to run a hand through his hair. There was a small cobweb clinging to his scalp.

Raz pulled the web off and sat down next to him as Bob’s eyes opened, a bit clearer.

“Oh. Oh, Trudy, no…” Bob let his head fall into his hands as he sank to the ground. “She was only ten. She was only ten, and she--!”

Shifting uncomfortably, Raz gave him a moment to gather himself. When his shoulders stopped shaking, Raz cleared his throat. “Do you... want to talk about it?”

Bob looked up, dead-eyed. “Our new town had a boxcar derby. They did it every year, just like back when I was a kid. Nancy said it was dangerous, but my Trudy was an adventurous soul, and I wanted her to have what I had. We built a cart together. It wasn’t pretty, basically just a crate on wheels. But it should have been safe.” He suddenly grabbed Raz by the shoulders and shook him. “It should have been safe! The roads were supposed to be blocked off, but that newspaper boy didn’t get the memo and went driving through the neighborhood at the wrong moment, and Trudy--!”

He dropped Raz and stood. “Nancy wouldn’t even let me see her. I couldn’t even see my little girl one last time. Is she dead? She must have been, the bone was sticking--” he broke off into a sob. “Oh God. I have to find it.” He picked up his crowbar.

Raz blinked, trying to follow the subject change. “Find what?”

“The box. It’s all I had left. A box of happier times. I lost it. I lost it . I need to find it, it’s all I have left.”

Raz looked around at all the opened boxes, then at the calendar on the wall. “...How long have you been looking?”

“I don’t know. Some days I don’t remember ever doing anything else. It doesn’t matter. I need to find it. I have to find it. It’s all I have left.”

Bob started walking towards the center of the room. The massive crate creaked and wobbled.

Raz had a sudden sinking suspicion and grabbed Bob by the arm. “Wait, don’t! It’s not safe!”

Bob looked down at him slowly and smiled sadly. His eyes flashed the same red as his ghostly self’s. “Changing things in here doesn’t change them out there, kid. It’s already done.”

“But--!”

“You know,” Bob said, “A lot of people tell me boxes aren’t scary.” He shoved the crowbar into the side of the crate. “But there’s still one box everyone is scared of…”

There was the creaking of hinges, and Raz turned to see crates teetering, then falling away from the wall one by one as if in slow motion.

A coffin was leaning there, open. The inside was pitch black.

“Beware.” Bob started pulling against the crowbar, and Raz felt his eyes being pulled toward the crate again.

“Razputin, you need to leave, now!”

“Milla? But--”

“Listen to her, Raz,” Sasha commanded in a tone that brooked no argument. “And don’t look back.”

“Kids, you should look away too,” Raz heard Dr. Fenton say to the others.

He walked towards the coffin, resisting the pull and listening to the crack of wood behind him. Raz grabbed the side of the casket to pull himself in.

There was a loud crash behind him.

Raz did not turn around.

Chapter Text

Maddie stared at the screen in horror. The camera view hadn’t followed Razputin into the coffin until the last possible second, remaining fixed on Post as that giant crate wobbled and finally fell. It cut back to the boy before impact, but they all heard the crunch--

The kids. Maddie spun in place and nearly fell over in relief to see Jack’s bulk blocking the kids’ view as he ushered them up the stairs.

Thank god for Jack. Maddie knew she could always count on him when she really needed it.

“Alright, upstairs, go,” Jack was saying, in a low and serious tone that sounded wrong coming from his mouth. “Nothing more to see here.”

“Dad--”

“Mr. Fenton--”

“No buts,” Jack said firmly. “The fun and games are over. The adults will take it from here. That means you too, Jazz,” he added, seeing their daughter start to draw herself up.

He half-led, half-dragged them upstairs, and Maddie turned back to the screen.

Raz was leaning against the now-closed door, curled into a ball and staring straight ahead. “Oh, no… Whose bright idea was it to send a child in there?!” she suddenly demanded. Anger felt safer right now.

Sasha was a hard man to read; even now his face remained impassive, but the way he was trying and failing to light his cigarette belied his emotions. “I have full confidence that Razputin is capable of overcoming anything that comes his way,” he replied, and Maddie was almost impressed at the total lack of waver in his voice. But then he slumped. “But perhaps letting him go alone was asking too much of him.” He took a drag at his cig and flicked the ash into the nearest waste bin. “Perhaps I should--”

“No, let me,” Milla interrupted. Sorrow looked horribly at home on her face as Milla turned towards the ghost and the boy’s body.

Sitting down behind him, Milla hesitated just a moment before pulling the boy into her lap and hugging him as she closed her eyes. A moment later she appeared in the same position on screen.

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

Raz startled at the sudden touch, stumbling over his over feet. “Wha--?!”

“Shhhh… It’s alright, Razputin.” Milla grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a half-hug, steadying him.

“Milla? What--Why are you here?”

She leaned down so he could see her smiling face. “Raz, honey, you just went through something awful. I needed to make sure you’re okay.” She paused. “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel? What about Bob?” Raz pulled himself out of her arms and started pacing. His head was buzzing and he needed to get the thoughts out somehow . “Bob is--was?--ugh, he didn’t deserve any of that!”

“No, he didn’t,” Milla agreed.

“And, and he worked for the Psychonauts! He must have been there for years, and Dr. Mentallis let him go for--” Raz broke off with a growl. “I am going to have words with him when I see him next time!” Actually thinking about it, he didn’t have trouble believing Otto would do that at all, which was even more upsetting.

Milla’s lips quirked. “Oh yes?” She nodded. “And yes, that was an awful thing, but it was an awful time for everyone.”

“...Why didn't he let me help him? He didn’t have to go through that again.” Raz lifted his goggles up to rub at his eyes. 

“Oh, Raz, no,” Milla crouched next to him. “That was a memory, darling. Changing it wouldn’t have stopped it from happening.” She sighed. “Altering memories is rarely a good idea, especially not one so important.”

Head hanging, Raz stood there quietly with his hands clenched. Finally, he let out a shuddering breath. “Okay. Okay, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, Raz? We can leave and finish another day; I’m sure Mr. Post will understand, and you’ve done so much already.”

“No, I have to finish the job,” Raz insisted. He couldn’t stop now, so close to the end. “I’ll be fine until we get back to the Motherlobe.”

She looked him up and down, then clicked her tongue. “If you insist, but only if you agree to an extra session with the staff therapist this week.”

Raz made a face, but nodded agreement.

“Good.” Floating to her feet, Milla clapped her hands and looked around. “Now, where are we?”

Raz looked back where he’s come from. The coffin door was set into a gray wall that stretched forever in every direction; up, left, right, and… down. Down?

The floor ended a few yards from where they stood. Raz walked over to the edge and looked down. Far, far below green clouds swirled. Cubes of random size floated and spun without gravity. Looking up was more of the same.

Here and there, bits and pieces of rooms floated in place. The nearest one was two walls and a floor holding piles of wrapping paper. A length of twine dangled off the edge… just close enough.

Raz leapt from their platform, reaching out to grab the twine and climb up, Milla floating behind him.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a lift, Raz?”

Raz blinked and twisted to look at her. “Oh, uh. Sure?”

Smiling, Milla grabbed him with her telekinesis and lifted them both onto the room.

It was bigger, now that they were here, and as Raz walked further in the missing walls faded into existence, the same spectral purple as the others.

“There’s got to be something here,” Raz reasoned to himself out loud, “or else why would it be here at all?”

Milla hummed acknowledgement, admiring a particularly colorful roll depicting puppies and kittens. Raz was more partial to the ivy-patterned one next to it; it reminded him of Lilli. It was a shame they couldn’t take things out of a mind... Milla reached out to take the puppy paper, presumably to get a closer look, but that disrupted the pile and several more rolled down, revealing--

Milla gasped. “Oh, my!”

Raz turned to see the Steamer Trunk sitting there. It didn’t move or cry, it just sat there, looking at them with wary eyes. It wiggled backwards, trying to rebury itself and only succeeding at dislodging more rolls.

Milla’s eyes widened. “What in th--Sasha, do you see this?”

“Fascinating,” Sasha agreed. “Emotional Baggage does not act that way; that’s the first major deviation from the normal mind we’ve seen.” Raz heard scribbling in the real world.

“Hmm. I don’t pretend to know how things are supposed to be,” Dr. Fenton mused, “But is it possible that that… incident marked the point where human memories end and the ghost’s actual mind begins?”

“It stands to reason. You can’t exactly make new memories once you’re--”

Milla cleared her throat, cutting him off. “So,” she said brightly, “We’ll start seeing new things now. Raz, there’s nothing else here, let’s find something else.”

They walked back to the edge, the walls fading as they went. The mindscape wasn’t honestly anything special compared to others they’d seen; Sasha’s mind was also a small series of cubes floating in a void, and similar set-ups were common among the open-minded or other control freaks like Sasha. The green fog was less common.

Several of the cubes--boxes, obviously--were open, their contents spilling out into the air. Raz eyed one in particular filled with dresses that were orbiting the box like flying birds. Another was full of cutlery. A small box containing a frozen dinner drifted by Raz’s face, passing over the floor of the room and clattering to the ground as gravity claimed it.

Raz frowned. “I wonder…” He glanced up at Milla, who was watching the flying dresses, then backed up before taking a flying leap.

Milla gasped. “Raz!”

Raz went sailing out.

And out. And out. Curiously, he didn’t end up falling at any point, and didn’t stop until he bumped into the dress crate.

“I thought so! Milla, there’s no gravity! It’s just like the Tomb of the Sharkophagus!””

Milla blinked. “The what?”

“Did I never tell you about--nevermind, save it for later. Hey, stop that,” he complained as one of the dresses began slapping him in agitation. It didn’t hurt, but it was kind of itchy. He looked towards another room and braced himself against the crate before jumping, flipping in the void so that he’d land on his feet.

He touched down on the new floor and stumbled as gravity grabbed him from an unexpected direction and he dropped to what he thought was a wall.

This room looked almost like part of the warehouse, save for the ghostly palette. Boxes were stacked high into what should have been the void but was somehow part of the room… each with a Censor symbol stamped onto them. “Huh. Wonder what that’s about.”

“Raz!” Milla touched down, looking upset. “You can’t scare me like that! It would be too easy to get separated here.”

“Sorry, Milla. I--”

“No.”

They both jumped as a door that neither had noticed opened up and a team of Censors in overalls walked in, each carrying a small stack of boxes. They added them to the pile, stamped their symbol on them, and turned before finally seeing them.

Both sides stared at each other in surprise.

“So we finally see Censors,” Sasha pointed out, needlessly. “I suppose that’s proof enough that this is the active part of the mind. The blue skin is unusual though.”

“NO!” The lead Censor snarled and jumped, pulling out its stamp and charging them.

Milla waved a hand and an unseen force sent it hurtling away, knocking over a stack of boxes. Several popped open to reveal their contents. One long and thin pox dropped a TV onto the floor, sending broken glass all over the place. Milla and Raz both hopped onto a levitation ball to avoid the debris.

The Censors responded by flying, ignoring gravity entirely. “NO!”

“No.”

“No!”

“Is that all they ever say?” Maddie asked, sounding confused.

The lead Censor jumped out of the pile, glasses askew. “No! Beware!”

Raz blinked at the change in script, then just rolled his eyes and blasted it to pieces. Flying, ghostly or not, they were still Censors and not very tough. With Milla helping, they were taken care of quickly.

Except that then more came out of the door, carrying more boxes that they abandoned once they saw them. And then kept coming. Before long the room was swarming with the things.

It was when three Heavy Censors walked in working together to carry a shipping container that Milla made a decision. She grabbed Raz and fled the room. The Censors did not follow.

The second they were outside, the walls slammed into existence and blocked them from entering again. A sign on the door, which was locked, read “Not the right box.”

“Well, that was exciting,” Milla said, out of breath. “Perhaps we really should call it here?”

Raz frowned. He looked around the expanse again, trying to see anything of note.

“I don’t… I don’t know, it feels like I’m missing something,” he said. “There’s got to be something more, right?”

Milla set them down in a room that turned out to be a kitchen. Oddly, the lights were on in this one. Raz wandered around, looking for something, anything, that stood out.

There was a picture frame by the stove. It showed the Lunch Lady ghost he’d fought earlier that day.

Interesting, but not what he was looking for…

...What was he looking for?

Raz snorted to himself. “Well, I know how the Box Ghost feels now…”

“What was that, Raz?”

“Just talking to myself, Milla.” He set the frame down, then blinked when it made a familiar boinging sound. Digging the picture out of the frame, he discovered the Steamer Trunk tag behind it. “Oh, hey.”

Milla looked over. “Oh, you found it.” She looked out the window over the sink, which gave a view of the void outside. “...We might have trouble finding the wrapping paper again.”

“It was right by the giant wall, right?”

“Raz, I can’t even see the wall through that fog.”

Raz looked outside with her. “...This might be difficult.”

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

Sasha was taking notes at a feverish pace.

“What exactly are you writing down, Nein?” Maddie asked.

“The human mind is not often easy to navigate, but it is usually not so obtuse as this,” Sasha responded. He finished his sentence and turned to face her. “Humans think in patterns. These patterns can be incomprehensible even to ourselves at times, but they are patterns nonetheless, and in the mindscape these can take the form of pathways. It is common for the various parts of a person’s conscious mind to be linked in some way, following the patterns that lead from thought to thought. This, however,” he said, gesturing at the screen, “bears more resemblance to the sub conscious, and yet it is the active part of the mind.” He paused. “Presumably. It is possible that Raz and Milla have stumbled into the subconscious without realizing, but I have a feeling that this is not the case.”

“Okay. What does that mean?” Jack said, coming back down the stairs. “Also, I missed the first half of that. Also also, Jazz is making dinner,” he added to Maddie.

Sasha thought for a moment. “I am saying, essentially, that this is not structured the way a human mind should be. Everything is just subtly off.” He put out his cigarette and tossed it away. “And yet Mr. Post was undeniably human, once. I wonder what caused his mind to become like this.”

Jack frowned. “...Well, he doesn’t--or shouldn’t, at least--have an actual brain anymore. Would that affect it?”

Sasha nodded slowly. “Perhaps…”

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

It turned out that finding their way back was easier than they expected. Milla decided to move on and look for more rooms, but Raz kept thinking about the Steamer Trunk, and suddenly they were in the wrapper room again despite almost certainly having gone in the wrong direction.

“Another point,” they heard Sasha murmur, “The mind rarely conforms to conventional space, but it typically maintains directional continuity. Or perhaps the areas are moving around? Uncommon but not unheard of…”

Milla sighed fondly. “I have a feeling that Sasha and Agent Mentallis will be busy for months after this. Let’s get the trunk Raz.”

The Steamer Trunk eyed them suspiciously as Raz approached. When he pulled out the tag, it moved , sending paper rolls flying as it danced away, spinning and twisting on its corners to get away.

Raz scowled; his nerves were starting to feel frayed and he wanted to get the job done already. “C’mon, don’t you want it? It’s your friend, right?”

The Trunk growled, a deep and low sound that Raz could feel through the floor. It dodged his efforts, then managed to wriggle out of Milla’s psychic grip when she lifted it into the air. Thankfully, the Trunk was large and the room wasn’t, so it had only a limited number of places to run. Eventually, Raz managed to hook the tag onto one of its handles. The Trunk froze, then slumped in place with a tired sigh before vanishing.

Raz dusted off his hands. “Job done.” He put his hands on his hips and waited. “Probably.”

Milla giggled. “Oh, well done Agent Aquato. Now let’s go and--Raz dear, what’s wrong?”

Raz shifted. “...Something feels wrong. I think. Do you feel something, Milla?”

Frowning, Milla extended her senses. “...I feel something . An engine running?”

Raz shook his head. “I hear rustling paper.” He sniffed. “...Is that salt?”

The floor fell out from under them.

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

It was quiet in the kitchen. Way more quiet than it usually got in the Fenton household, for sure.

Jazz had noticed the time and decided to start putting together an early dinner. Danny wasn’t sure how many of them would feel like eating after that, but he appreciated that thought. She had started cutting chicken, but then had turned slightly green and put it away before putting together spaghetti sauce instead. Probably for the best that she switched to something vegetarian, since Sam was here.

Speaking of, Sam was digging through those comics and had pulled out her phone, trying to do more research on the Psychonauts from what Danny could see over her shoulder. She was concentrating so hard that Danny could practically feel a headache of his own forming.

Tucker was on his phone too, and was searching on it and his PDA at the same time. What he was looking for Danny couldn’t tell, since he was scrolling faster than Danny could read.

All of them were desperate to find something so they didn’t have to think too hard about what they saw. All of them except Danny, who didn’t have anything on hand to do.

Well. There was one thing. Danny stood and walked outside. Nothing helped to clear his mind like a flight, and with the portal closed he probably wouldn’t have to worry about any ghosts interrupting him. Though a good fight might have helped… No, he wasn’t sure he wanted that right now. If the Box Ghost of all people had a tragic backstory, could he really ever feel good about beating him up again? What about Ember? Or even--well, no, he could probably still beat up Skulker. That guy sucked.

Danny sighed, leaning against the back porch’s railing.

“Tell me about it, kid.”

Danny nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to see Cruller standing next to him, chewing on something.

“Where did you come from?!” Danny gasped. Man was he glad he hadn’t gone ghost yet, what the heck?!

Cruller raised an eyebrow at him. “I was already here, bucko. Ya gotta pay more attention.” Giving Danny a closer look, he frowned. “What’s eating you?”

Danny paused, wondering if he should say anything at all, before deciding he’d probably find out from Dr. Nein later anyway. “We saw the Box Ghost… bite it.”

Cruller winced. “Eesh.”

They stood in silence for a while. Cruller dug into a pocket and offered him a pack of gum. “Want one?”

Danny took the pack and blinked at the label. “...Is this bacon -flavored?”

Cruller smirked. “Hollis told me I need to cut back on my bacon--some guff about heart disease or whatever.”

Danny shrugged and took a piece, unwrapping it and popping it in his mouth. Oh wow that was awful. The texture of gum did not mix with the flavor of bacon at all. He spluttered, spitting the glob out into the grass.

Cruller cackled. “Hah! I’m messing with you kid, here’s the real stuff,” he said, handing Danny a perfectly normal stick of spearmint.

They looked up at a whirring noise and Danny fought the instinct to duck out of sight as the Red Huntress flew overhead. Probably just as well that he hadn’t gone flying, if she was around.

Cruller sighed. “You know, this morning the world was a much simpler place. There weren’t any ghosts, and no people on flying surfboards, and I lived in blissful ignorance of one of my many, many mistakes.”

“...Well,” Danny began, awkwardly, “The thing with Box--I mean, Bob wasn’t really your fault, right? You weren’t in your right mind?”

Cruller huffed, not agreeing or disagreeing. After a moment, his brow furrowed, and he turned to Danny. “What’s Bob got to do with anything?”

“Oh, that’s the Box Ghost’s name. Bob Post.”

The old man nodded, relaxing. “Oh, that Bob. You know, that name actually is kind of familiar now that I hear it…”

Another silence fell between them and Danny looked up at the sky. It was a cloudy winter day. The Huntress flew by again. Valerie was probably sensing the Box Ghost down there.

He hoped the Box Ghost wouldn’t be upset about the reveal. Jazz was the first but hardly the only person to try and talk to ghosts instead of fighting them, and one of the most important things the people of Amity had found out is that you don’t ever ask a ghost about their death. It was the absolute fastest way to tick them off…

Oh…

Oh no, what if something goes wrong with the door when they take it off? What if it gave the Box Ghost a boost like before and he went ballistic because they knew about his death now? He was right there in the lab, so many things could go wrong or explode or contaminate--!

Cruller slapped him in the back of the head. “Knock it off!”

Danny blinked, pulled back from his thoughts. “Er, what?”

“What did I tell you about thinking so loud?” Cruller grumped. “You gotta guard your thoughts better, boy, you’re too open! Anyone with the slightest psychic potential could pick your mind clean without even trying!”

Danny looked away. “I don’t--what? What can I do about that? I’m not psychic.”

“Pfft. Being a normie doesn’t mean you can’t guard yourself.” Cruller rolled his eyes. “Some of the hardest minds I’ve ever cracked didn’t have a shred of psychic potential between them. You just gotta know how to keep it in.”

He opened his mouth to say more, but cut himself off. Cruller frowned, putting a hand to his temple. “Hold on, I gotta take this.”

Danny blinked. “What are you--” But the man’s eyes had unfocused and he was clearly no longer listening. And then he popped out of existence.

Danny stared at the spot where he vanished for a moment longer before shrugging, walking back inside. Weird .

Tucker looked up at him as he entered and grinned. “Dude, you’re not gonna believe what I just found!”

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

Raz fell, which didn’t make sense. Why did gravity come back now? He could just barely see Milla above him, having caught herself with levitation, and he felt when she tried to grab him too, but then something pulled him away and he was far enough away that he couldn’t see her through the fog.

“RAZPUTIN!”

He fell through blackness and greenness and the occasional flash of purpleness. Letters fluttered by. He tilted to avoid boxes, not wanting to splatter against one. He heard the dopplered horn of a truck in the distance, and stuttering words without meaning.

Raz fell for quite a long time, and as he got further away from wherever he’d been, things became more… abstract. Letters marched off of envelopes, a truck miles long snaked through the clouds, and Raz sputtered when he fell into a body of water only to fall through the bottom into more open air again.

The green clouds were awfully close now.

“...w…sc…got…”

Raz could just about make out words, now, but it was hard to hear them over the screaming…

…Oh wait, that was him. Raz stopped screaming, and the words came into greater focus.

“...e am I? What happe…?”

“Welcome to the Ghost Zone. Name?”

“...Name?”

Raz sped by a flash of blue and green. He could just about make out the Box Ghost, and the other looked like it was wearing riot gear, but then they were gone.

“...xes? Freaking boxes?! ” A cruel laugh. “Buddy, you think you can roll with us when all you have is boxes? Ha!”

“You ain’t scary. You’ll never be scary. Get lost.”

Another flash, of blue and white, but this one was gone too fast for Raz to see anything else. He was still picking up speed.

Raz broke through the barrier of clouds, and the whispers he’d only barely noticed before became a cacophony, disjointed words and phrases, voices raised in anger and fear, screams of terror and haunting laughter. Whispered prayers and shouted threats. Admonishments and backhanded compliments. Direct insults and ultimatums. Ignored advice and condemnations.

It all flowed together, coming to a head with

“BEWARE.”

And then Raz hit the ground, softer than he’d expected. Honestly, at that point he was surprised there was a ground at all.

“Urgh…” Raz pushed himself up with a groan, because though it was softer than expected it was still a nasty landing. “What even just happened?” He looked around. Or tried to. The fog was so thick he could barely see his own feet. “Hello?” he called out. “Milla? Sasha, can you guys hear me out there?”

No response. Not even an echo.

“..Ford?” Still nothing.

There was a metallic screech in the distance. Raz shivered.

He needed help, but no one was answering. He couldn’t see the camera nearby. Did that mean they couldn’t see him? How did the Ecto-door work? Raz was lying down next to Bob. He’d been hearing their voices through his actual body’s ears, right? Why couldn’t he hear them now ?  Surely Sasha would be trying to get a response out of him…

Raz wracked his brains for an answer. Why couldn’t he contact anyone?

…Wait, could he?

Ford had been a psychic hitchhiker for a good month before Raz had started feeling the need for more privacy. He knew Ford hadn’t been watching him constantly , but the fact that he could had gotten unnerving. But even if he wasn’t really there anymore, maybe there was still some kind of connection? Maybe Raz could pull on it, but how to do that?

Raz thought about that for about three seconds, then conjured a memory of the tastiest, best bacon he’d ever eaten.

Less than a minute later, he felt a tug in the back of his mind, and then Ford’s head popped out of his ear.

“You rang?”

“Ford!”

Raz’s voice sounded so relieved to see him that Ford blinked in surprise. “Raz, what’s wrong?” He looked around. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know!” Raz almost shouted. “I was falling for a really long time, and I can’t hear the others outside!”

“Hmm.” Ford frowned in thought. “Falling, eh? That’s not good. I don’t need to tell you that down is where a lot of the worst parts of human nature go, in the mind. We try to bury our worst impulses, after all…”

That scraping noise rang out again. It sounded closer. Raz spun in place, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from, and he swore he could see a shadow in the fog, but then it was gone. Was it really even there?

“Ford, did you see that?”

Ford opened his mouth, but then yelped. Raz felt something tug on his ear, and then the slight, imagined weight on the side of his head vanished.

“Ford?!” Raz turned just in time to see a hook pull back into the mist, and Ford was gone. “What’s happening?! Who’s out there?!”

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

Sasha banged on the console, as if that would change the point of view. The camera had stuck with Milla instead, and they’d been forced to watch as Raz fell into nothingness.

“Milla, what happened?”

“I don’t know, the floor just vanished!” She cried as she dove, trying and failing to push past the rising currents. “Sasha, this mind is fighting me! The mist is pushing against me, I can’t follow him!”

The Fentons exchanged worried looks. “What does that mean?” Jack asked. “Is he in danger?”

“He… shouldn’t be,” Sasha replied, forcing himself to stay calm. “If he takes a serious injury in the mind, all that should happen is that he wakes up in his body unharmed.” He turned to look at the door on the ghost’s head. “But… that’s with a normal Psi-door. It might not be the case with this new technology.” He smacked his own head. “ Dummkopf. What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking Raz would amaze us all yet again, Sasha,” Ford said, who was suddenly there and looking tense. “But even that boy’s luck has to run out eventually. He contacted me but something pushed me out.”

Maddie scowled. “That’s it. This has gone on long enough. Get him out of there!”

Sasha nodded. He pulled a small capsule from his pocket and walked over to Raz’s body. He snapped the capsule open and waved it under the boy’s nose.

Raz grimaced and turned away.

Sasha’s eyes widened behind his glasses, and he tried again, and again, but each time Raz only moved away.

“Ford.” he said, panic finally starting to creep into his voice. “The smelling salts aren’t working!”

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

Raz’s face wrinkled as a powerful acrid smell filled his nostrils.

“Agh, what in the--wait, of course!” Smelling salts! They must be trying to wake him! …Why wasn’t it working?

He shook his head. Whatever, if they didn’t work out there, maybe they’d work in here…? Some part of him still didn’t like the idea of leaving a job unfinished, but he was getting seriously freaked out. He had to get out of here.

He pulled his capsule out of his backpack only for it to be snatched away.

A hand emerged from the mist, holding the capsule out of reach. “I don’t think so!” 

“Hey, give it--back?” Raz stopped short, seeing the Mailroom Enabler glaring at him.

It hissed at him. “ You give it back! You took it, and I need it!”

Raz blinked. “Took--What?”

“You took it! Give it back!” It lashed out, nearly clipping him with an oversized pair of scissors.

Raz dodged backwards, and a ringing in his brain told him to duck as something else nearly took his head off from behind. He cartwheeled out of the way to see the Truck Driver Enabler hefting a crowbar.

“Give it back!”

“You took it, it’s mine!”

“I don’t know what you’re--” Raz started, but he had to dodge as they charged at him, the Driver’s crowbar scraping across the ground as it ran.

Raz tried to run, but with no way to see where he was going he wasn’t able to stop himself from running into the Docks Enabler. They both fell against a wall, instantly grappling with each other, until Raz had to throw him off to avoid the longshoreman’s hook nearly taking his eye out.

He found himself boxed in, surrounded by the wall on one side and Enablers on the others.

“We need it!”

“Give it back!”

“I have to find it!”

“I don’t have whatever it is you want!” Raz shouted. He sent a psi blast there way, and it knocked the Driver back, but it was back up again before he could escape.

“Give it back!”

“I need it!”

“I need to hear it again!”

Raz blinked. “Hear it?”

The Mail Enabler itself seemed briefly confused, but that didn’t last long as it lashed out. Raz avoided an uneven haircut and pushed it away.

Hear it. Hear what? There had been barely any sound at all in this mind, just creaking shelves, the sea, and that music--

--Box. Raz felt like an idiot.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it back, just--”

“Give it back!” The Driver tried to hit him again, and Raz danced away, backed into the wall by the attack.

“I am! Just let me…” The wall shifted behind him.

Taking his eyes off the Enablers was probably a bad idea, but Raz couldn’t help but turn to see what he’d thought was some kind of structure reveal itself to be alive. The massive form stood on four squat, pillar-like legs and slowly turned, each step threatening to send Raz off his feet.

A black, metallic, and titanic Memory Vault glowered down at him, its normally beady eyes dwarfing him.

“Uh… hello?”

Its eyes narrowed and its dial spun. The ground shook with its tumblers as it locked itself, and then it charged.

STRONGBOX

--Locked up tight

Raz ran between its legs; dodging the safe’s attack was easy, all told, but the Enablers were another thing. Their constant demands for what was taken from them were close enough to an Enabler’s normal chanting that they were making each other invincible; he couldn’t attack them, but they could attack him.

Thankfully, they seemed to be having more trouble avoiding the monster vault than he was; he watched as the Driver rolled to avoid getting squashed.

“Alright,” Raz said aloud. “I have to give the right Enabler their box, and that will do… something? What am I supposed to do about the Vault?” He stopped in place, letting the Strongbox stomp in front of him. “Wait, what was the Dock’s box?”

“Give it back!”

The Driver caught up to him and Raz cartwheeled out of the way of its weapon. He needed a moment to dig into his pack, but they weren’t going to give it to him. He needed someway to block their attacks while he looked through his things.

“Hey wait a minute… I do have a shield don’t I? How did it work again?” Raz took a moment to think, a moment that allowed the Driver to knock him off his feet. “Agh!”

With Raz flat on his back, the Driver leapt into the air to drive its crowbar home. Raz held his hands between them and pushed . A barrier sprung into being, and the bar bounced off.

“Whew. That was a close one.” Raz took a moment to catch his breath, wincing slightly as the Driver went to town on the shield; every impact felt like Frazie pelting him with pinecones, but he put up with it. “Alright, buddy. I’ve got your box…”

“Give it back give it back GIVE IT BACK!”

“I’m working on it, jeez…” Raz swung the pack off his back and dug inside. The ring box was pretty small, so it had fallen down inside, but a minute of digging and he managed to pull it up.

Instead of calming down, once the Enabler saw it it got even more frantic, pounding away even harder.

“I knew you had it! Give it back! It’s mine mine mine!”

“Alright, let me just--” Raz reached out, box in hand to give it over, but the instant his hand was outside the barrier, the swinging bar came around and knocked the ring box away. “OW!”

The Enabler shrieked and dropped its weapon, chasing after the box as it clattered away.

Its little hands closed around it and it hugged it close to its chest, hopping up and down happily. “Yes! Mine! I found it! I foun--!”

The Strongbox’s foot came down, and squashed it flat.

Raz flinched at the impact.

The giant Vault paused to scrape its foot against the ground, then continued its charge like nothing happened.

Raz stood, letting his shield fall for the moment and sighing. “Alright, I see where this is going…”

The Mailroom Enabler stumbled out of the mist, pausing long enough to adjust its hat before running at him. “I need it!”

Raz activated his shield, but to his surprise this one’s scissors cut through the shield like paper, forcing him to lose a few strands of hair in his efforts to get away.

“Talk about a close shave,” he said, chuckling, a small bit of hysteria coloring his laughter..

Raz glanced at the other Enabler in the distance. It was still chanting something, and the slight sheen on the Mailroom Enabler’s skin showed it was being protected. He needed to knock it back enough that he could pull out the music box. The problem was, if he threw it, it would likely break and Raz really didn’t want to know how the Enabler would react to that. Not well, probably.

Psi blast wouldn't work, and he didn’t want to set it on fire either… He couldn’t pick it up with telekinesis--wait, could he? He didn’t know if he’d ever tried.

“Only one way to find out.” When it came in for its next attack, Raz jumped and let it pass underneath him. When it stumbled, he concentrated, and a spectral orange hand plucked it off the ground.

“I need it I need it!”

“You’re gonna get it, pal, one sec.” Raz pulled the music box out and carefully set it down. When it touched the ground, it started tinkling away, somehow audible despite the Vault still stomping around.

Unlike the previous one, the Mailroom Enabler went limp in Raz’s grip at the sound.

“...Trudy?”

Raz let it go, and the Enabler slowly walked over to the box as Raz backed away. It reached out, reverently, an unidentifiable expression on its face.

Then the foot came down, and it was gone.

Grimly, Raz dusted off his hands. “Two down, one to go.” He stepped to the side as the Strongbox came back around. “Now, where did the Dockworker go…?”

“Where is it, Where is it…”

Raz followed the voice, and found the Dockworker pacing, rooting through the dirt, turning up the dirt and stone. Its hook had been dropped and sat partially buried as the creature continued its erratic search, looking for something that wasn’t there.

“Gotta find it, gotta find it, gotta find it gotta gotta gotta…” it murmured to itself over and over. It was pitiful to look at. It didn’t even seem aware of Raz’s presence anymore.

Should he figure out what box it was looking for or should he just put it out of its misery? It didn’t matter; before he could make a decision, the Strongbox lumbered back out of the fog right then, and the Enabler perked up and ran towards the titanic safe.

“There it is! It’s mine, I found it! I found--!”

It ran directly into the Vault’s stomping feet, and vanished.

The Strongbox came to a slow halt, huffing and shaking like it was exhausted. It eyed Raz suspiciously, then collapsed onto its belly. It remained stubbornly closed… but Raz spotted the Driver’s crowbar not far away.

He pulled the tool towards himself and walked over, careful not to startle the Strongbox; he didn’t trust it was really out for the count, but it stayed put as he approached and worked to pry the door open.

It would’ve never happened in the real world. There was no way such a gigantic metal door could ever be budged by a kid, not even him. But it was a mindscape, not real, and so it popped open after just a little effort. The Strongbox’s tongue rolled out, and Raz blinked at the tiny creature clinging to the reel inside.

It was a nasty-looking thing, all angles and joints and grabby hands. Glowing green eyes glared balefully at him, and it turned away as he approached, trying to hide the much larger reel behind itself.

“No! Mine!” it squeaked defensively. “Need it, gotta find it! Beware! ”

Obsession

--A little thing that makes big problems

Raz sighed. This again. He swung off his backpack again and started digging. “Alright, let's see if I’ve got anything left in… here?”

The music box was back inside. How…? Raz shook his head. He wasn’t going to question it. Oh, the ring box too. He took both out and set them in front of the creature.

It blinked, sniffing. It glanced at him for a long moment, then let go of the reel to grab the boxes and scamper away back into the Vault’s maw.

The reel itself was a rusty, unhealthy-looking thing. Raz picked it up--

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

“A Lot to Unpack”

“Gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta--”

“I put it right there (where) I wouldn’t have thrown it out, it’s too important.”

“Gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it--”

“I just need to find it, and I can be happy again. All my good memories are in that box. I need it.”

“Gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find it gotta find--”

“What am I looking for again? I’ll know it when I see it.”

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

--and put it away, grimacing at the intense emotion spilling off of it. 

He let out a breath. He was done here.

Finding the smelling salts took a bit, but they stood out against the black floor. He snapped them open and woke up.

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

Raz blinked and groaned. He felt like crap, which was unusual; most of the time coming back to himself felt refreshing, but he felt like he really had been fighting for his life…

“Ugh, what has my body been doing?”

“RAZ!”

“Whoa!” Raz yelped as he was picked up and pulled into a hug. “Milla?!”

“Oh, we were so worried darling, don’t ever do that again!” Milla was holding him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

“Razputin,” Sasha said, sounding relieved. “I am glad to see you alright. When we couldn’t wake you, I began to fear the worst.”

Struggling out of Milla’s death grip, Raz dropped to the floor, unsteady. “I’m fine, I’m--well, I’ve been worse.”

“I’m glad,” Ford said, walking over. He sounded the same, but his concern showed plainly on his face. “Because we didn’t see any of whatever happened.” He paused. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure myself,” Raz admitted. “Have any of you ever seen a huge Memory Vault that attacked you?”

Sasha blinked, then he and Milla both turned to Ford. The old man stood there, staring at the ceiling in thought. “...I don’t… think so…”

“What about this little thing, it looked kind of like the gremlin from that one movie, and it was inside the Vault--”

“There will be time for your report later, Raz,” Sasha interrupted. “First we need to make sure you’re alright. You seem the worst for wear.”

“I’m fine,” Raz assured them. “It’s nothing I can’t--whoa.” He tried to take a step forward and failed, falling flat on his face. “...I feel… numb,” he admitted.

Milla helped him up while Sasha hummed. “It is possible that it’s merely due to inactivity; the inside of a mind is typically bound to subjective time, but our putting it on the screen forced it to occur in real time. Your body has been sitting still for several hours. On the other hand--”

“Nein, the kid’s looking green,” Jack pointed out.

Raz was, indeed, looking distinctly ill. “I’m fine. It’s not like I’ve eaten anything except that cake--urp.”

“And I’d rather not see it again,” Ford said. He and Milla started leading him upstairs. “Let’s get you something to help keep it down, son.”

Sasha sighed. “I suppose the Ecto-door will need some revision. And no, Raz, I will not ask you to test it again until I know it is safer,” he said sternly when Raz perked up.

“Speaking of the door,” Maddie spoke up. She pointed at the Box Ghost.

The glow in his eyes was dimming as they came back into focus.

The Ecto-door closed itself and the Box Ghost took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Jack and Maddie tensed as he stood out of his chair, but all he did was stare at nothing for a long moment before taking the door off his head and setting it on the nearest table. He looked around the lab, eyes lingering on Raz, before turning and walking-- walking , not floating--towards the portal.

He pressed the button that opened the blast door, and Bob Post gave them all a shaky smile.

“...Beware,” he said quietly, in lieu of something else, and stepped through the portal.

Maddie stared after him, and then let out a massive groan. “Jack, lock the portal again, I think, for once, I’ve had enough ghosts for one day.”

Chapter Text

“Whoa, what happened? Is the little dude okay?” Tucker asked, half-rising out of his seat.

Raz came up the stairs still looking distinctly green, and leaning heavily on Milla. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “I’ve gone through worse, so I can keep--”

“You can get some sleep,” Milla interrupted, gently guiding him into the living room.

“But Milla, I--”

“Shush, Razputin.” Milla sat him on the couch and pulled his helmet off. “The mission is over and there is no ongoing crisis. You can rest, Raz,” she promised.

Raz opened his mouth to protest, but had to close it again as something fought its way up his throat. Danny shouted as the kitchen trash can flew across the house to Milla’s hand so she could put it under Raz’s head, but he waved her away and forced himself to swallow.

“...ugh. Maybe a short nap wouldn’t hurt.” He hesitated. “Uh, Milla, could you…?”

“Of course, Raz. Don’t worry, and sleep ,” she finished. Her psychic presence brushed against Raz’s, and he was out like a light. “Poor thing.”

Danny blinked. “Did you just--”

“Shhhh,” Milla held a finger to her lips. “Razputin has terrible insomnia. He usually works himself to exhaustion during the day in order to be tired enough to sleep at night,” she added, sounding disapproving, “but otherwise he needs help getting to sleep. Now let’s let him rest.” She waved them back into the kitchen, where Jazz was straining the pasta.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“We’re not sure,” Milla admitted. “But it’s the first time anyone’s been in a ghost’s mind; who knows what side-effects there might be?”

“You might want to have Mom and Dad make sure he’s not ecto-contaminated,” Danny suggested.

Milla stared at him. “Is… that a thing that can happen?” she asked worriedly, glancing back towards the sleeping boy.

Before they could answer, the house started creaking and Jack came out the basement door, looking dour. He glanced at Sam and Tucker and started. “Oh, you two are still here?” he asked, sounding honestly surprised. He shook his head. “Nevermind. I’m sorry to ask this, but Sam, Tucker? I think you two should go home. It’s been a long and… strange day,” Jack added, speaking over Tucker’s objections. “And I think we need to spend the rest of the night… thinking about what we’ve seen.”

“But what about the spaghetti--URF!” Tucker whined before Sam smacked him.

Jack hummed, perking up slightly at the food on the stove. “...Well, one plate then,” he allowed. “But then you have to go.” He turned to go back downstairs.

“I’ll be watching Raz,” Milla said, “But I’d like it if you each took these.” She pulled a notepad from somewhere on her person and scribbled out three notes, handing one each to Danny, Sam and Tucker.

“What’s this?” Danny asked. “A phone number?”

“The number of a good youth therapist I know. She operates in the next state over, but she’ll make a house call if I ask her to.”

Danny made a face. “I don’t need a--”

“Danny.” Jazz glared at him. “We all saw something deeply traumatic today; there’s no shame in wanting to talk out our issues with a professional.” Jazz did not say that she was only an ameteur psychiatrist and so Danny shouldn’t rely on her to help him, but she made a concerted effort to get the point across with her eyes alone.

“Well said!” Milla nodded approvingly. “Children, take it from someone who dives into people’s minds for a living: watching a person die isn’t something you can just shake off. Not even if you come from this town of ghosts.” After a moment to see if there were going to be further questions, she turned and walked into the living room.

Danny sat down as Jazz put plates on the table. “I wonder what else happened?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out,” Tucker said, already shoveling noodles into his mouth. “Your dad doesn’t exactly keep things quiet.”

“Not normally,” Jazz agreed, taking her own seat. She scowled as a bit of sauce flew from the end of Tucker’s noodles onto the tablecloth. “Do you mind?”

“I’m eating away the trauma,” Tucker shot back.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “ Anyway , this experiment was different. I’ve never seen Dad so much as frown when discussing ghosts before, but he looked seriously freaked out for some of that.”

Sam scoffed. “Well yeah. That was seriously freaky.” She frowned and looked down. “Man, Danny, your parents… I’ve wanted them to see that they’re wrong for years now, but…”

Danny nodded. “Not like this. I hope they’re okay.”

“Dad can bounce back from anything,” Jazz said fondly. “But Mom…”

They ate in silence for a bit.

Danny frowned. “Do you think we should show the Box Ghost what you found, Tuck? Next time we see him?”

The other boy shrugged. “Maybe? It’s something I’d want to know, but who knows how he’d react…”

Jazz tapped her fork against her plate, thinking. “...Maybe at a later time. I believe he’s had enough emotional whiplash for one day, but you should definitely let him know eventually.”

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

Sasha closely inspected the partially disassembled Ecto-door. “Hmmm…”

“Something wrong?” Ford asked, looking over it himself. “I was never fully aware of how these things work, but as far as I can tell it looks fine to me.”

“So it seems,” Sasha agreed. “It is possible that--ah, one moment. Look here.” He pointed out a single wire that had burnt out. “How--This must have been from when the Box Ghost was overloaded by the psitanium earlier, and neither Jack nor I noticed it when we reconfigured it.”

“Would that have caused the nausea?” Ford asked. “Otto over-engineers everything, he wouldn’t build something that one little wire out of place could break.”

“It wouldn’t have helped, certainly. It may not be the cause. Most likely it’s that we simply don’t understand the interactions between Psitanium and ectoplasm; the original Psi-door wasn’t designed to deal with it, and just running that slime through it would have been strenuous. On the door, and on the user.” Sasha cursed under his breath. “ Scheise . I cannot believe I allowed Razputin to test it.”

“Well, beating yourself up about it isn’t gonna help no one,” Ford pointed out. “What’s done is done, now learn from the mistake and do better. And, eh, speaking of beating yourself up…”

They both looked up to see Maddie seated on the other side of the lab, head in hands. Sasha winced at the turmoil radiating off of her. “Perhaps I should--”

Ford stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Nah, they’ll be fine. Here he comes now.”

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

Jack came down the stairs and the aura of despair in the lab hit him like a physical blow. He immediately spotted Maddie sitting by herself, lost in thought.

Maddie, much like Jack himself, was an incredibly vibrant and emotional person. They wore their emotions on their sleeves and everything they did, was done with gusto. Seeing his better half with that thousand-yard stare hurt him deeply.

He pulled a chair up beside her and sat, draping an arm across her shoulders. “How are you holding up, Mads?”

Maddie didn’t immediately answer. Jack waited patiently, giving her shoulders a comforting squeeze until she finally sighed, letting her head hang. “Jack, what do we even do now?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Were we really wrong? About… everything?” she asked.

Jack’s first instinct was to comfort her and assure her that of course they weren’t! But he squashed that urge and gave the question the proper consideration, humming while pulling her into a loose hug.

While he thought, a scratching sound drew Jack’s attention to the Portal. As he watched, that blue ghost-rat from earlier phased its way through the door, making motions as though it was burrowing. It sniffed the air for a moment, then flew up through the ceiling.

Jack glanced at the spot where it vanished, then back to Maddie, who appeared to have not noticed any of that, and decided that he’d deal with that later, if it became a problem.

“Well…” he said at last. “We weren’t wrong about everything . All those weapons we made still work. And just because they might have tragic backstories doesn’t mean that ghosts aren’t still attacking the city.” He paused. “We should probably stop using the more lethal options now. Can you call it lethal if they’re already dead? Vital? No, that’s giving the wrong message, it doesn’t heal them…”

His wife leaned into him, almost dozing. Jack kept up his rambling, letting his mouth carry on without much input from his brain. He was a world-class rambler! Maddie had told him once that it was a pleasant white noise for her at times, and if that’s what she needed right now he was happy to provide. He kept an eye on her as she slowly relaxed, before catching up to his own yammering.

“...and yeah, maybe we were wrong about what ghosts actually are, but hey! We know now. And yeah, so we’ve taken a few… hundred steps back. That doesn’t mean we should stop moving forwards!” Jack declared, punctuating his point standing up, pulling Maddie with him.

“Jack!” she shouted as she was lifted into the air.

“C’mon, Maddie! Don’t think of it as a failure, but an opportunity! Whole new areas to study, new theories to explore! Maybe we can interrogate--I mean interview a ghost and get answers to things we never considered before! Like what ghosts eat, or where they vacation!”

Maddie smiled despite everything, and let herself get swept in by the tide that was Jack Fenton. “You know, you’re absolutely right. The best way to make up for our mistakes is to learn from them!”

“Well said,” Sasha said, walking over. “It’s a good attitude to have. Are you feeling well?” he asked.

Maddie nodded. “I will be, I think.” She gave Jack a thankful smile before facing Dr. Nein. “So, when will you be writing your report?”

“I will start the instant we get back to the jet. Agent Mentallis will doubtless want to go over the information as soon as possible.” They started walking upstairs. “We need to settle several things, such as what to do with the Ecto-door; it is as much yours as mine, after all, but by order of the UN all Psitanium products have to be screened by the Psychonauts.” He smiled. “One way or another, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the coming months.”

Jack grinned, giving Sasha a friendly punch in the arm that nearly knocked the man over. “Can’t wait, Sasha!”

They entered the kitchen, where Ford was eating a plate of pasta at the counter. At Sasha’s questioning eyebrow, the old man shrugged, gesturing wordlessly at the massive pot on the stove.

“Hey, Jazzy-pants!” Jack said, clamping a hand on his eldest’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ll be helping us out a lot more, if you want! Sasha’s going to be sticking around, and we’ll need some help putting your ‘ecto-psychology’ into practice.”

Jazz’s face lit up. “Really?! You’ll finally start listening to me?”

Maddie winced beside him, but Jack steamrolled through any potential awkwardness with his usual aplomb. “Sure will! But also, we always listened to you,” he said, a bit more somberly, “We just never took your claims seriously, and for that we’re sorry.”

Jazz hugged him, which Jack gladly returned.

“We’ll talk more about this later, Jazz,” Maddie promised quietly as they led Sasha through to the front door, where Ford and Milla were sitting near Raz.

Jack blinked and looked back into the kitchen, where Ford’s plate sat empty on the counter. Huh.

Maddie made a strangled sound, and Jack turned back to see that ghost rat curled up against Raz’s side, beady red eyes watching them. Jack squeezed Maddie’s arm, and she seemed to calm down, though Jack wasn’t blind to the staring contest she and the ghost entered.

“She appeared a few minutes ago,” Milla explained. “I think she’s taken a liking to Razputin. Do you know where she came from?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Sasha said. Turning to the Fentons, he cleared his throat. “I don’t know how often I’ll be dropping by; my duties take up a lot of my time, but I’ll definitely be in touch.” He paused, remembering something. “Ah, one more thing. Here.”

He handed them a simple business card with his name and a pair of numbers on it. Jack turned it over, and the same brain symbol pinned to Raz’s jacket gleamed up at him.

“In case you need to contact me for whatever reason. The first is my personal number, the second leads to the Motherlobe front desk. I ask that you only call the first if it’s important, like your son’s latent cryokinesis suddenly manifesting.”

Jack nodded absently. He felt Maddie stiffen next to him and wondered why for a moment before Sasha’s words registered. “Wait, what?”

“Time to go,” Sasha said firmly. Milla gathered Raz up into her arms while Sasha walked to the front door and pulled it open.

He leaned backward to avoid the fist that had been in the middle of knocking. The bald man in the pristine white suit glared at him from behind black shades.

“So W was right,” the man muttered. Out loud, he said, “Psychonaut agent, this city is under the jurisdiction of the GIW. What purpose do the Pyschonauts have here?”

Sasha stared, eye twitching.

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

The Ghost Zone was blue today.

Well, no, it was as green and purple and black as ever, but it felt blue. The Box Ghost drifted through space, not really paying attention to where he was going.

Was he still the Box Ghost? Was he Bob? Robert? No, he didn’t like Robert much, he never went by that.

Bob still didn’t remember everything. But he remembered a lot more than he did. There were a few crucial blank spots that he couldn’t see past. The time between that fateful crash and his death were a blurry mess, obscured by a haze of sleep deprivation and depression. He remembered arguing with Nancy, but not what it was about. He could guess, though. But the really important bits were there now. His wedding, and those few happy months before things got tense. 

Trudy was the most important thing he remembered, by far. The light of his life. The thing that had made it all worth fighting for, his little princess, the one who kept him going after he lost his job… How could he ever have forgotten her?

The Box Ghost paused, realizing he’d come to his Door without meaning to. Entering it, he looked around at the familiar boxes and miscellaneous junk that he’d collected over the years, trying to find that box of happy memories.

…For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder. He never met Trudy after he died, so maybe…?

He shook his head, chasing the thought away. Not everyone becomes a ghost, and even if she did, the Zone was functionally infinite in scope and he probably wouldn’t have recognized her if they did meet. There was no way to know, not really, so it wasn’t worth torturing himself with hope.

He frowned, looking around his Room with discontent. Now that he knew the context surrounding it, his obsession was… empty. What good would it have done him to find that box? It wouldn’t have made him happy. It wouldn’t have brought Trudy back, or made Nancy un-kick him out of the house, and as a ghost it would have just been one box among hundreds.

So… what did he do now? Maybe he should think outside the box…

Bob pondered that for a while, but was interrupted when someone knocked on his Door.

“Boxy, are you there?”

He opened the Door, smiling. “Lunch Lady! It’s good to see you.”

The other ghost frowned. “You sound different. Is everything alright?”

Bob pondered that for a moment. “You know? I think it will be. I think it finally will be.” He stepped aside. “Would you like to come in?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It’s no problem at all.” He paused.

His life was over, and had been for a long time. He’d lost so much… but when there’s nothing to lose, that means there’s everything to gain, right? It was worth a shot. His life might have ended badly, but that didn’t mean his Afterlife had to be as bad.

“Hey, Lunch? How would you feel about getting… I dunno, coffee? Sometime?”