Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The lab is silent.

Maddie tries to slow her quickening breathing, but to no avail. Her eyes fixate on the spot where Phantom had been slumped on the floor mere moments ago, green tears dotted in his eyes. 

Ghosts shouldn’t even be able to cry. She thinks, trying to calm herself.

All her career of ghost hunting, she’s had one goal. And there, there was her chance. Gone in a fleeting moment of anger at Phantom not remembering his past.

Of course he wouldn’t remember, why would he? It’s been years, decades even. Maddie’s stomach flips as she thinks back to that fateful summer of 1967 when her older brother, Daniel Walker, had lost his life in a preventable lab accident.

She can still remember seeing his body. Convulsions wracking his body, the air heavy with burning flesh, his dying screams imprinted into her mind. She’d run over, tears blurry, hands about to shake him awake before her eyes grazed his face. His misty brown eyes staring back at her. Unseeing.

She already knew he was dead. And then suddenly she was screaming, screaming for her parents, tears blurring her vision. The sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs, her mother’s horrified scream and father’s repeated pleading.

He’s fine. He’s fine. Come on, wake up. Daniel, come on. Wake up. Please.

Her mother’s arms had encased her, dragging her upstairs through a fight of blurry tears and pleading to see Daniel again.

Please, I need to see him! He needs to wake up!

Maddie—come upstairs. Daniel—he, he’s..

Don’t tell me he’s dead! He can’t be!

I’m so sorry, Madeleine.

She’d refused to believe it at first, it couldn’t be true. Even though, deep down she knew it was true. She’d stared into those dead, unseeing eyes, after all, yet she still denied it. Maddie still expected his radiant presence within the house, or for him to jump around a corner at any minute and start babbling ideas for new games for them to play.

The funeral was the day her disbelief was ripped away. There was no denying the coffin being buried deep under the dirt, or the light grey tombstone etched with her brother’s name.

And then there were the nightmares. Every time she closed her eyes she’d be back in the lab, Daniel standing, staring at her with those soulless eyes.

You did this.

Even if there were the nightmares, she wouldn’t have to see the lab ever again. Her father had passed his research business over to a work partner, and they’d moved to Spittoon. A fresh start, where the Walker family was simply two parents and two daughters.

Then she’d met Jack there, and the rest was history.

Maddie shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the memories. The first nine years of her life are like a curse, always lingering. But, she thinks, if they didn’t exist, then she wouldn’t be married to Jack. She wouldn’t have the kids.

The kids. Maddie grimaces, guilt filling her as she kneels on the floor, picking up the scalpels that scattered over the floor after striking Phantom. Each metal blade she deposits back into the tray on the trolley.

Jazz and Danny don’t know about Daniel.

clink

She’s not sure if she ever will tell them.

clink

Maybe she should. Then maybe they’d understand her strange behaviour, it’s no doubt she’s been fascinated with Phantom recently. And from the awkward look on her children’s faces at the dinner table when she mentions him, it’s beginning to get to them too.

clink

But if she does tell them — she has to retell the story all over again.

clink

And admittedly, Maddie doesn’t like talking about that story. It makes her feel like that scared nine year old watching her elder brother die all over again. She hates it.

No. She can’t tell them.

With one final clink she places the last scalpel into the trolley, as the realisation comes shattering down.

She had one chance to talk to Phantom—Daniel, and she’d ruined it. Gone. There’s no chance he’ll ever want to speak to her again, not after she slapped him.

Tears drizzle down her face. She’d slapped the ghost of her brother. The ghost of her brother whose mind is a tangled mess, who says he doesn’t remember her, yet his lively eyes shine with recognition each time he sees her. A ghost who is confused, lost, his memories nothing but tattered fragments.

And still Maddie had let her temper get the better of her. 

A crashing sound from upstairs jolts her out of her pensive reflection. Pulling herself up off the ground and brushing the dust off her knees, she begins approaching the lab stairs.

“I can’t sit here all day dwelling on the past.” She scolds herself, walking up the stairs.

Yet Maddie can’t help the lingering feeling of failure that remains in her chest. 

Maddie’s whole career, the reason why she became a ghost hunter in the first place. To find the ghost of her brother — obviously Phantom.

She opens the lab door, and steps outside. 

No more thinking about Phantom and her failures in life. Her family is her only focus now. The one thing she hasn’t made a mess of.

Chapter Text

Tension is heavy in Maddie’s chest as she sits at the dinner table, hesitantly twirling green flecked spaghetti around her fork. 

Her eyes flicker to face Jack, then the kids, who look down at their meals with silence. She can’t blame them, she doesn’t really feel like talking, either.

But it shouldn’t be this way, and you know it. Guilt simmers in her stomach again. And she’d thought that everything was alright with their family.

There’s been the odd time where Danny doesn’t show up for dinner, but other than that, nothing out of the blue. Fenton family dinners, rare as they are, are usually a time for her and Jack to brainstorm new inventions, to learn what the kids are getting up to as they get more independent, delving into the cusp of adulthood.

Now it is anything but.

The clatter of Jack’s cutlery on his plate breaks the silence.

“So…kids, have you gotten up to anything today?” Jack’s eyes trail over to Jazz and Danny, his shoulders hunched with awkwardness.

“Well…” Jazz considers for a second, putting her cutlery down, “I did have some assignments to complete that I got handed in today, but other than that, not much else.”

“Danny, what about you?” Jack prompts the teenager, who’s slumped out on the table, expression hidden by his hair. For a split second, Maddie thinks she sees concern strike upon Jazz’s face, but ignores it.

“I’m fine.” He mumbles dazedly, “Just…confused.”

“Confused?” Jack tilts his head, “What’d you have to be confused about?”

“Is this about schoolwork?” Maddie juts in. After the accident, Danny’s grades had declined considerably, but in recent times he’d managed to pick them back up. Or so she’d thought.

“No…it’s not that.” Danny looks up from where he’s hunched to meet her gaze, a bewildered spark flickering in his eyes.

What’s he got to be confused about? Is he surprised he’s not getting told off? Maddie thinks with a twinge of guilt, scouring her mind for anything Danny might’ve done, gotten in trouble for. As far as she’s aware, he’s been well behaved this week — meeting every curfew on time, getting all his homework handed in and not skipping chores.

“Then what is it?” pries Maddie, curious. 

“I—“ Danny considers, before shaking his head and removing his hand from his chin, looking despondently into his spaghetti as if it’s the most interesting thing ever, “It’s nothing. I promise.”

It’s then she notices it.

The mark on Danny’s cheek. It burns an angry red, recently inflicted, displayed across his left cheek, a familiar shape that leaves Maddie reeling. How she didn’t notice earlier, she doesn’t know.

Someone had slapped him.

“Where did you get that from?!” Maddie leans forward gesturing to the red mark as Danny’s eyes go wide, both Jazz and Jack looking on in confusion.

“Mads, what’re you—“ Jack begins, but then cuts off as he notices the red mark she’s pointing to.

“It’s nothing!” Danny yelps, dropping his cutlery on the plate with a clatter. His skin is cold to the touch, like a block of ice, before he flinches back.

“Daniel.” Maddie’s eyes narrow. He’s gotten multiple minor scrapes over the past few months, but this is no feat of clumsiness. It’s inflicted. Someone hurt him deliberately.

“Who did this?”

“No one did it,”  He shakes his head, shoving his chair back, recoiling from her grasp. It can’t be a bully, she thinks. He’s defending this person too stubbornly.

“Of course someone did it. What, are you going to lie and say that you slapped yourself?” she accuses, not missing the way Danny ducks his head sheepishly. 

The kitchen fills with silence as Danny says nothing, his eyes fixated to the table. Maddie doesn’t know what to do, awaiting a response that isn’t some hastily put together lie.

“I’m not hungry.” He mumbles, stepping back and dashing out the room before she can even comprehend anything.

“Danny!” Her and Jack call simultaneously, but he’s already out of the room.

“I’ll go check on him.” Jazz mumbles, pushing out her chair and disappearing through the door. 

Great. There goes the one thing left you hadn’t messed up. Maddie’s heart crinkles with guilt. The one thing she hadn’t messed up beside the whole situation with Daniel. Her family. Or so she’d thought.

She should be up there comforting Danny, him being able to open up to her with ease. Instead he’s ran away, and she’s relying on Jazz to be the emotional support for him.

What sort of mother is she if her own children can’t come to her for help?

Sluggishly, Maddie begins gathering the plates from the table. It feels like an eternity before she wills her hands to move and grab the stray cutlery. She places them on the counter, not bothering to put them in the sink. That can wait for tomorrow.

“Mads?” Jack questions, turning around to her from his chair. His tone is gentle, wavering. “What’s happened?”

She wants to speak, tell Jack about everything. Of course, he knows about Daniel—he’d been the one to help her process it and get back into ghost hunting. He knows her suspicions about Phantom. 

He doesn’t know about the events in the lab from earlier.

“I messed up, Jack.” Maddie mumbles, her eyes beginning to feel damp.

“Messed up?” Jack's eyes trail up the stairs where their children just departed. She can see him begin to rework the previous conversation in his head, sifting through the pieces of dialogue like clockwork. “Danny’s been acting strange for months Maddie, I’m sure it wasn’t—“

“Not that.” Maddie winces at the cut of her voice, feeling a tear drip down her cheek. The memory plays in her head again and again, the echo of the slap and clatter of scalpels. His owlish green eyes, once shaded brown.

“Then what is it?” Jack steps forward, putting his hands on her shoulders, steadying her trembling figure.

“Something did happen, but not with Danny. It was Daniel.” This has been the pinnacle of her whole career, to find her brother and to share in the success with Jack. But now the words feel like shame on her tongue.

“Daniel. You—you found him?” Jack’s mouth parts with shock before a grin encases his face. Embracing her tightly, his incessant chatter becomes a cacophony in her head. “Were your suspicions about Phantom true? I knew a ghost in a HAZMAT had to be related to us…same excellent taste—“

”Yes. No. I—I don’t know, Jack!” And truly, she doesn’t.

There’s so many correlations. Lab accident, HAZMAT, name, recognising her. And yet, there’s still so many contradictions. Getting confused at the mention of her witnessing his death. Forgetting things.

It can’t just be a coincidence.

”It’s alright Mads.” Jack puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “What happened?”

“I thought it was him. It had—has to be. And then after all this time I messed it up. Everything. He’s forgotten everything, he was crying and saying he didn’t know. And what did I do? I slapped him, Jack.”

“It’ll take time though, won’t it? Can’t imagine if I became a ghost that I’d want to remember what I lost. It’s been nearly forty years—those memories won’t just come back overnight.” Jack's response is strangely inquisitive—but he knows how much this means to her.

And he’s right. Nearly forty years of compressing traumatic memories, of course her brother’s mind will be shredded.

“You’re right.” Maddie gives him a faint smile, but feels no happiness. “He recognised me a little. I just didn’t think it’d be that bad. He didn’t even remember Mary-Rose.”

“He didn’t remember your mother?” Jack’s eyes narrow. Maddie watches him pace to the other side of the kitchen table, hands gripping the back of a chair. “I thought they were attached to one another.”

"I did, too." Whenever she thinks of Daniel, all she can remember is him being practically attached to their mother. Although fourteen years old and a time when a teenager would probably yearn independence (as did Jazz and Danny), Daniel did none of that. He did have the school friends he would hang around with, but he mainly enjoyed spending time with them all. Back when they'd all been a family.

And then Daniel was gone and everything was ruined.

"Maybe-" her mind trawls through all the theories and knowledge they have of ghosts, trying to simmer down the inconsistencies between Phantom and Daniel to find an explanation, "-maybe it's his obsession? It makes sense that a ghosts obsession would take up more focus--it's their purpose. Which explains why there's so little left."

"Exactly!" Jack claps his hands together. "That's the Maddie I know. And you can always talk to him. Pfft--talking to a ghost instead of shooting, who'd thought that we'd be here?"

"I couldn't ever risk shooting Phantom. If there wasn't the risk that he was...my brother, well, he'd be on the dissection table in a heartbeat."

"He's a fascinating ghosty, isn't he? Much more developed than the others. That ectoplasm he deposits seems to bleed, not in the way the other ghosts do it when they're injured. And he shows some mimicry of pain." Jack hums, and she can tell he's thinking what the outcome could've been if there wasn't the risk hanging above their heads. The research and breakthroughs they could've made.

But that's not the way it's ended. 

"I can't talk to him now, though. I slapped him! Why would he want to speak to me?" She gestures, resting her hands on her chin. She's ruined the chance of a reunion, and now, noting the emptiness at the kitchen table, ruining her family.

"Look." Jack grimaces for a second as he also, takes in the lack of their children's presences. "The things you've told me about him, Daniel was always forgiving when he was alive. So why would that be any different now?"

Because he's a ghost. Maddie's about to respond, but pauses. Jack is right. Why would Daniel be any different from when he was alive? Apart from obsessive behaviour due to whatever his obsession is and the consequences of it, he's just the same fourteen year old that died all them years ago, albeit the change in appearance. 

"If we're going by that logic..." Maddie pauses briefly, considering the possible shift this might have for research. "If we're going by the logic that Daniel is mostly unchanged, except for his obsession and appearance...then surely that should apply to other ghosts too?"

Jack doesn't respond, but his eyes widen in realisation. Silence lingers in the kitchen xcept for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

They have lots of things to consider.

Danny doesn't even know where to start. The red mark on his cheek could be a consideration, but so much has happened in just the past two days alone. His mind feels like it's been blended in one of the Nasty Burgers slush machines. Why? What? How? Who?

Sitting at his desk, he takes in the mess of homework crumpled to the side. He was going to complete them, but now he’s in too much of a mess. Behind him the carpet scruffs repeatedly as Jazz paces up and down his room.

”There has to be a reason.” Jazz stops in her tracks, folding her arms.

”What—something to explain why mom said I was her brother? Why’d she’d been searching her whole career for me?!”

It doesn’t make sense. Unless she’s referencing to his hybrid status, searching for a ghost like him. But that would’ve been mentioned, and it doesn’t even explain the rant she’d gone off at him.

”Mom doesn’t even have a brother. We’ve only got uncles on Dad’s side.” Jazz clarifies, as if he didn’t know this.

”I know that!” Danny huffs, slamming his elbows down on the desk. He can’t even confront her as Fenton with this knowledge—she’d surely get suspicious if he was asking about information only Phantom knew. And even so, asking for clarification as Phantom might dig him deeper in the supposed hole of assumptions she’s made about him.

“It was just so…weird though.” He runs over the events again. “I mean why would she ask ‘do you remember your mother?’ If she didn’t know my identity?!”

“I don’t know, Danny.” Danny swivels in his chair to face Jazz, who for once in her life, looks stumped. “But it’s clear you need to talk to her. About the questions, the brother , and who she’s been searching for her entire career.”

“Well I can’t ask her as Fenton, can I?”

“Well if you want to keep your identity, of course not.”

Then suddenly, the idea hits him like the bolt of electricity in the portal accident. He can’t ask her as Fenton, and surely acting as confused as he is now as Phantom will get him nowhere successful. 

But playing along will work. He’ll manage to get out his moms secrets, find out what’s going on with her (albeit slightly manipulatively), and she’ll get to believe whatever theory she’s convoluted about Phantom.

Win win, right?

“I’ll just play along then.” Danny shrugs casually, dismissing Jazz’s concern.

“Danny.” His sister’s eyes narrow. “You can't seriously be thinking of doing that. What if Mom finds out in the end? As you mentioned, she says her whole ghost hunting career was for this. She’d be devastated. And who knows what…”

“…what she could do? Been there, got the t-shirt, had the nightmares.” Jazz’s face contorts to one of concern. Danny shrugs his shoulders up by his ears. The nightmares aren’t something he likes admitting. And he’s blatantly aware of how wrong it could go at the shot of an ectogun.

But if he does, maybe he can piece together what or who his mom is looking for. Her entire career is thirty plus years of ghost hunting—so she clearly hasn’t been successful thus far.

“Danny…”

“No. I’m serious, Jazz. If I play along I might find out extra stuff and piece it together myself. Maybe I could even reunite her.”

“What if they never came back as a ghost?” Jazz plants herself on Danny’s bed, scrutinising him up and down. It’s still clear she’s not convinced. 

But he’s certain. Because he’s seen how stressed his Mom has been recently, especially around his portal accident. As if she’d experienced it before. The way she hovered over him, as although she couldn’t believe he’d survived.

And Danny supposes it was nothing short of a miracle, really. He was supposed to die in the portal that day. But he’d become a halfa instead. 

And when it came down to telling his parents, apart from the ghost hunting, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His parents, Mom especially, were so relieved at his survival, that he felt guilty at admitting that half of him was gone.

So he didn’t. And that’s how he’s ended up here supposedly, with his Mom thinking he’s someone else as Phantom…a brother, perhaps? It’s still confusing.

So if he can relieve that stress from his Mom for just one second, allow her to believe Phantom is who she thinks, then it’ll be worth it.

“Even if she finds out in the end, for a little while, she’ll really think that whoever she assumes I am has come home.” Danny explains, bunching his knees up to his chest as Jazz narrows her eyes, “She’ll be properly happy. And if I get shot at when she does find the truth, then so be it. Because I made her career worthwhile, for even just a little bit.”

A few heavy seconds of silence linger between the two of them, and Danny thinks Jazz is either going to walk out or not response until she sighs heavily, blue eyes glimmering with weariness.

“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

He shakes his head. He’s certain of what he needs to do. And the consequences at the end? Well—he’s prepared for them.

As long as he helps his Mom feel like she’s accomplished her career's greatest goal for even just a few seconds, that’s what matters.

“If I’m the key to making Mom feel less stressed, then so be it. You saw how she was after the portal accident with me! Like…I don’t know…something had happened before.”

“She was probably stressed because her kid had nearly gotten killed from her negligence. ” Jazz stated, straightening her back. “And didn’t Mom and Dad have a college friend who got into an accident or sorts? She was probably thinking of him.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. It’s a plausible theory. “But you see why I have to do this, right?”

“Just—” His sister gets up from his bed, trailing across the room to take his hands in hers. Her eyes glance over the lichtenberg branching up his left hand before averting back to him. “I nearly lost you once, Danny. I can’t lose you again. Please be careful.”

“I will.” 

Tomorrow , he thinks. Tomorrow he’ll set the plan in motion to uncover whatever mystery has fuelled his mom’s ghost-hunting career, plaguing her for decades.

Chapter Text

Maddie doesn’t even know what to think as she scales the park, the only light illuminating from the scanner on the Fenton Finder. And really, what good is this?

Phantom… Daniel is out there somewhere. Pushed away because of her.

Where are you ? Her fingers clench the side of the Finder, sharp corners digging into her palms. There’s no sign of any ghosts, let alone the specific one she requires.

Above her, the trees creak ominously, branches curling out like gnarled spiders. Gravel catches underfoot and sputters away with each footstep. Maddie freezes. 

She shouldn’t be here, not really. Jack had guided her upstairs, away from the lab, insistent that some sleep would let them rehash disarrayed thoughts of Phantom in the morning. So she’d followed him, albeit reluctantly. Gotten ready and laid down besides him, waiting for his eyelids to flutter shut. It didn’t take long, given the whirlwind of the past few days. Wasn’t just her it had affected.

And now she’s here, wandering in the dark with no one aware of her whereabouts.

The Fenton Finder beeps slightly, causing her to tense, shoulders rising. The screen shows values of a ghost much less powerful, a blob ghost or stray ectopus. Nothing enough to cause a big diversion, and one Maddie can ignore. 

Come on. This is ridiculous. Even with the jumpsuit's insulation Maddie can feel the bitter air chilling her skin. Phantom should be here, albeit not the park, but at least in Amity. He's out more nights than not, a black and white streak in a darkened sky.

What if it's because I'm suspicious of him?   Maddie stops, breath hitching as she comes to the end of the glade. She'd outwardly told Phantom her suspicions of him being the late ghost of her brother, hurt him for it. It had been a difficult process for her when all the ghosts had appeared in Amity, to see Phantom for the first time. Thirty-so years of a career dedicated to locating him, and there he'd been on the playground of Caspar High fighting with pieces of animated meat. And the whole process of being right about ghosts, no longer ridiculed.

It's the same theme of avoidance that Danny has become habit to over the last few months. They confront him about suspicions about his injuries, he avoids them as if it doesn't exist. Perhaps Phantom is doing that. 

If I can't see it it doesn't exist. A petty mindset to have, but expected, given her brother was only fourteen when he died. And to see her now, not a terrified nine-year-old but rather a grown woman with a strong career and family would certainly be a large pill to swallow, she supposes.

Maddie sighs, switching the Finder off. It’s no luck. Phantom is holed away to wherever he goes after he disappears from Amity. It could be an injury, but no particularly large battles have occurred in the last week. 

Maybe I’ll go past the playground. Her heart aches in her chest as she walks. Its a familiar path, one she’s never taken in the dark, but many years ago. When Danny and Jazz were just small and they’d run through the gate, practically launching themselves at the equipment. 

Danny always wanted the swings, insisting on being pushed so he could touch the sky. If that dream still holds, Maddie’s not so sure. He’s always…tired.

The park just starts to enter her line of vision when a strange glowing on the swings becomes apparent. Not a light, rather a figure. 

Phantom. 

Instinctively her hand goes to her belt, ready to aim the ectogun and shoot, a routine rehearsed so many times before. But instead she recoils, hand falling by her side, unsure what to do. Now it feels wrong to have the weapon on her side, knowing what it's capable of. How many times she's been in the realm of destroying Phantom. Every time he's bounced back as witty as ever for Amity Park, but how close has he been to obliteration at her own hands?

Maddie approaches the fence, posture tense, heart in her stomach.

Phantom sees her almost instantly, green eyes seething into hers. There’s still a mottling of colours on his cheek, various stages of healing. 

“What?” The ghost bites, his brow furrowing, the swing chains rattling with tension in his fists.

“Mind if I?” She pauses, opening the gate and gesturing to the swing.

The ghost grimaces briefly, before sighing. 

“Fine” which follows up with a smaller muttering of, ‘It’s not as if I ever get a say.’

The swing shifts beneath Maddie’s weight as she settles onto it, vigilant of Phantom’s stare piercing into her. They don’t talk, only stare at one another for what feels like an eternity.

Phantom remains braced, eyes watching her every move, even watches her feet scuffing the ground as she attempt to adjust herself. 

You did this. Maddie thinks. She’s conditioned him to expect an attack at every interaction that befalls them. No wonder Phantom’s suspicious. 

Always attack. Never just ‘talking’.

”You’re out late. Again.”

”What are you, my mom?” The last word spat with harsh venom.

Maddie’s thoughts instantly go to her—their—mother. Mary-Rose never had been the same since. And Maddie had once hoped that when she’d finally passed away—although quite before Jazz and Danny were born—that at least she’d be reunited with Daniel in some afterlife. Be at peace, with the angels…whatever.

Phantom’s green, angry eyes say otherwise.

"You know..." Maddie hesitates, wondering whether to bring up such a taboo topic to a ghost, "She was never the same after losing you."

"...losing me?" Phantom echoes, eyes narrowing so slightly that Maddie barely perceives it. His confusion...is confusing.

Of course, she doesn't expect any ghost to have vivid memories of their life before. Phantom is no different, as much as she could wish different. But still, she'd expect him to follow to some degree. He's always had a strange recognisability to her, had implied to being killed in a laboratory, responded to the name Daniel. 

It has been forty years. She reminds herself internally.

"Yes. 9th of June 1967."

“Right. I–I don’t remember it.” Phantom stammers, bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck.

“I was nine. You were fourteen. All I wanted was to go in the laboratory. We were never let in–our father wouldn’t have that, too dangerous, he said. Just incase.”

“I take that yo– we– didn’t listen?” the ghost inputs, looking down at his glowing form. 

“No. You never did.” Maddie shakes her head. The recollection of before is all a blurred mess, barely coherent. Everything merged into one until they’d moved to Spittoon, and then her childhood was more solid, the memories discernible.

Once she’d been Maddie Walker, nine years old. One sister. One brother.

Yet. there had been a time before that. Her eyes scan over Phantom, the same freckles mottled over his cheeks, now green and flaring. His intense stare.

Stubborn brown eyes, freckles flushed red with anger. His voice with an edge to it, insistent, refusing to back down. Their father, weary in tone, dismissive. 

‘Something’s not right! He’s scribbled all over your notes with nonsense.’

‘What have I said about looking through my research, Daniel? He’s my coworker and research partner, I expect critique and contradictions.’

‘What next? You can’t just keep making excuses for him, dad. It’ll get to a point where you can’t agree with him. Or worse, you do.’

“I think you and our father had had an argument before you died.” Maddie finally spits out

“That’s Stephen, right?” Phantom asks.

“Yes.” Another link to the hypothetical chain.

Maddie’s never mentioned her father’s name to the ghost before. There’s no way of having that knowledge, not even publicly in Amity. As far as the town is aware, she originated from Arkansas, married Jack, and settled down. Never bothered mentioning her parents' names, nor Daniel. 

Ironically trying to shed her remaining past whilst searching for the dead one. 

“What did we argue about?”

“I think you didn’t like our father’s coworker much. Something about disagreeing with his opinions?”

“Opinions about what?”

Maddie sighs, a little irritated at the questions, “He was a scientist, of the ghost variety. I don’t know what he did back in the day, but it’s how me and Jack started up. He’d destroyed his research after you died, but Jack—my husband—found a few stray sheets remaining. It’s how we made our portal blueprints. Of course, we altered the fuse box. Unfortunately…our son, Danny, was injured by it just last year.”

Phantom flinches, the ghost tensing to the point even his aura stops flickering. His hands wrap around the chains of the swing, warping the metal. His legs form into a tail, a plume of black.

Stupid, Maddie. 

"I-I can't do this. I'm sorry." 

Daniel disappears. Again.

I shouldn’t have left, is one of two thoughts Danny has as he approaches FentonWorks, a beacon in the streets of Amity Park.

The other being what the actual fuck.

He doesn’t even know where to begin with...whatever just happened.

You were fourteen.

9th June 1967.

Lab accident.

Pressure building in his head, which Danny just knows will be a migraine tomorrow, he slips through the window of his parents bedroom.

His dad is sprawled out on the bed, snoring so loudly that Danny thinks it’s a miracle the whole house isn’t shaking. His mom’s side is empty.

Good. He’ll have plenty of time.

Plenty of time to figure out whatever mess this is. Hesitating, Danny hovers over to the oak cabinet at the foot of the bed.

This feels wrong, a crossing of an invisible boundary him and Jazz have always adhered to. Mutual respect. Just in the way his parents haven’t pushed and prodded him about his disappearances and injuries—now he’s breaking the trust.

But there’s a heavy weight in his chest—guilt, confusion? Logically, it’s not fair to himself either, is it? If he’s got no clue of what his mom is going on regarding his ghost side.

It’s still him. Even if his mom clearly doesn’t think that, he should still be permitted to know who she suspects him of apparently being before death.

His eyes hover to the right side of the cabinet, the drawer furthest to the floor and covered haphazardly with a plastic bin. There's one thing different about this drawer-it has a lock. Danny's never been in it, nor seen his parents even look at it. Yet he's sure it'll have something in it.

Kneeling, Danny hesitates, fingers digging into the plush carpet. The familiar tingle of intangibility washes over his left hand.

Now or never.

And plunges his hand through the wood. 

There's nothing at first, but the cold, flat oak and a few stray nails. At least it's not a stash of secret ghost weapon plans, then. Danny reaches further, nearly hitting his face off of the cabinet before instinctively lurching back and resuming. Then his fingers hit something colder. Smooth.

It's rectangular, cold and smooth on the front with a bordered edge. In one motion, Danny turns himself invisible and launches himself through the wall neighbouring his room, item and all. 

Something from his parents college days, an embarrassing moment of him or Jazz? He flips the photo over.

"Really?" Danny feels his stomach sink. 

It's just a photo of his mom and Aunt Alicia as kids. The garden looks different from the Spittoon farm he's seen in old albums, but other than that, just a normal photo. Alicia on the left, her hair branched up with ribbons. His mom on the right, eight-or-nine, grinning cheekily in a too large t-shirt and wild hair. One arm clutching Alicia's shoulder, the other-

The other cut off the photo entirely. 

Huh? Danny furrows a brow. The photo has a white edging on it's borders, evenly spread on each side. Except it isn't. The side of the photo where his mom's arm is cut off, the border is missing entirely.

It doesn't take much to wrestle the photo out of it's cheap metal frame, and he tosses both that and the cardboard backing on his sheets, photo in hand.

Danny gulps, heart in his mouth. The paper is folded. A straight, clean crease that looks like it's been that way for years.

He doesn't even now why he's nervous. The photo was probably just too big for the frame. Maybe it's an old friend that his mom fell out with, or one of his grandparents that he's never set eyes upon--nor photographic or real life. 

Carefully, he unfolds the crease and smooths it out, the paper dogeared with age. 

Brown eyes, ginger hair, fourteen or fifteen. Staring at him. Smirking cheekily. 

Danny's veins feel dipped in ice, heart pounding. A face he's never seen, yet already knows something is wrong.

The paper trembles as Danny turns it over, practically yanking the cropped part back.

And sure enough, there's writing on it. An unfamiliar scrawl blotched with discolouration, slightly smudged. 

Danny Walker. Summer 1967.

"What." Danny shudders, flipping the photo back around, staring at the teenage face again.

Different hair colour, different eyes, but Danny can definitely see a familiar resemblance in the blotted freckles and rounded cheeks.

No wonder his mom's been so...everywhere. 

She thinks Phantom is her brother. 

Danny Walker. Danny Phantom. No fucking wonder.

Another horrific thought rises in Danny's head. His mom assumes this Danny is a ghost. 

His mom has a brother who died however long ago, him and Jazz nonethewiser about their uncle, and she assumes her-son's alter-ego is her brother.

Is that why she became a ghost hunter? To find...him.

"What happened to you?" Danny mumbles to paper-Danny.

There is no response, only paper-Danny staring back, smirking without a care in the world. Frozen in time.