#Phic phight
Text
Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 15
@greatbigolhampuckjustforme
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“Only one left,” said Danny, uneasily. Working by the process of elimination… If any of the people on this list were his actual, biological parents, as Frostbite had feared, then it was these two.
Jazz, obviously, wasn’t his mother. He’d known that from basically the moment they’d met. Vlad, Frostbite, and Pandora had confirmed that fact, and their stories had matched too well with each other for them to be lying. Unless, of course, the whole trial was a lie and they were all working together, and Danny was hesitant to go down that path.
The Observants, too, could be crossed off with ease. The Observants were public and impersonal enough that Danny had remembered them despite his amnesia. He’d never heard of them having children. And their behavior during his trial… well. Maybe they’d behave that way around their actual children, but Danny doubted it.
Vlad hadn’t even claimed to be his father. Of course, he’d also heavily implied that Danny’s biological parents were dead. So there was that. He was also a liar. So there was that. But, again, Danny didn’t think Vlad was his actual parent. The Dairy King would have told him if he was.
Frostbite and Pandora had also denied any blood relationship with him, although they still both wanted him to pick them. Pandora did, at least. Frostbite had seemed more lukewarm about it. Maybe even cool, to use a pun. Not that Frostbite disliked Danny. He was participating in this to help Danny. Just… Yeah.
Then there was the trio, which, um. Yeah. Definitely not.
So. If his parents were actually involved, and not dead, then they had to be these two. Unless Pandora or Frostbite or Vlad was lying about not being his parent, which he didn’t think any of them would do, because that would be counterproductive. Wouldn’t it?
Double-think made his head hurt.
“Yes,” said Clockwork. “Only Jack and Maddie Fenton are left. Then, when you have seen them, you must make your decision.”
“And I can choose anyone?”
“Yes. You may choose anyone you wish to choose.”
“Hm,” said Danny. He spread himself out over the couch and dropped the file folder on the coffee table. “Anyone, anyone?”
“That is the policy, to ensure that children are placed appropriately.”
“So, like, if I decided I wanted to go with the Dairy King but not Vlad…?”
“That is a possibility,” said Clockwork. “As in, you could choose for Dairy King alone to have custody of you, with the understanding that Vlad would likely still be a significant part of his social circle and afterlife.”
“Huh,” said Danny. “What if I picked, like, Ember?”
“You could do that.”
“But you wouldn’t recommend it, huh?”
“My recommendation is immaterial,” said Clockwork. “I am a neutral party.”
“Yeah, but I can still ask you questions. What if I want your opinion?”
“I am not allowed to give it.”
“Right,” said Danny. He looked over the file. “You know, they have, like, the least stuff on their little cheat sheet out of anyone. Except the Observants. Theirs was really… lackluster.”
“Indeed?” said Clockwork, with just the faintest inflection at the end to turn it into a question instead of an agreement.
“Mhm.” Jack and Maddie, no listed last name, didn’t have much written on their page of the file. Apparently they liked making cookies, stargazing, needlepoint, sewing, and… that was it. Nothing about jobs, titles, other interests, other things they enjoyed. Nothing.
The stargazing was a good point, though. Danny was pretty sure he liked stargazing. If only he’d had a chance to do it… Ugh. Being stuck inside was getting more and more annoying.
Distressing.
Almost as distressing as Frostbite thinking that Danny’s biological parents were abusive.
“You said before, everyone is, like, vetted? So they won’t be… dangerous?”
“That is correct.”
“But the Observants still were allowed to do whatever it was they were trying to do.”
“Unfortunately, persons who possess authority will on occasion use that authority to put themselves in even more positions of authority.”
“Except you can’t tell me any of your opinions.”
“Correct,” said Clockwork.
“You’re funny.”
“Not many would say that.”
“That’s because you’re really– really oblique about it.”
“Perhaps.”
Danny sighed. “I should just go right away, shouldn’t I? I should stop agonizing about this.”
“It is up to you, Daniel.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Danny made no move to get off the couch. “What are you doing over there, anyway?”
Clockwork twisted his hands around to show Danny a net of white string. “I’ve taken up lacemaking.”
“Ugh, see, I’ve been wasting so much of your time that you’ve picked up a new hobby. That’s crazy.”
“I wouldn’t say that it’s new,” said Clockwork. “Lace has been around for a long time.”
“New to you, then. Like, your original hobby is making clocks, right?”
“I also enjoy candlemaking and gardening. But this,” Clockwork held up the lace, “was always within my plans.”
“Uh huh,” said Danny.
“It is almost time for lunch. You could stay until then.”
“See? I’ve wasted the whole morning. I came back last night. And that was a day trip.” He sighed. “What would lunch be?”
“I was planning on fried rice, using the remaining rice from last night.”
“I thought you’d made a lot of rice that time,” said Danny. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
.
Jack and Maddie’s house was… Well, it looked like it had been a normal house. The entryway was done up with plain tile, and opened up into a high-ceilinged living room. Danny could see a set of stairs leading up one side of the living room to the second floor, where there were a number of doors. On the ground floor, there was an open doorway leading into a kitchen.
That was all fine. However, the walls, ceiling, and floors all looked like they’d been torn apart and put together again. Sometimes with proper tools like plaster and drywall, and sometimes with cardboard and duct tape. There were dark squares and ovals where picture frames may have hung. He could see an electrical outlet that had been pulled out of the wall and hastily put back in, without all the wires fitting. Near his elbow were the remains of what looked like a doorbell. Bits of insulation hung out of gaps between the original walls and the repairs.
It wasn’t quite as strange or as messy overall as Ember, Skulker, and Technus’s place, but the contrast was… weird. Everyone else was obviously trying to put their best foot forward and had cleaned up or acquired a whole new house. This… this was not that.
At least, he hoped it wasn’t. Because if this was their best, then what was their usual?
He turned his attention to the two humans who had been waiting for him to arrive. They were human. The man was tall and broad, with dark hair. He was wearing overalls over an orange button up. His sleeves were rolled up, and he was scratching at a rash on his arm. The woman was slim and much shorter, her auburn hair cut in a chin-length bob. She had a pale blue blouse on, and dark jeans.
He caught their eyes, one after another.
“Hi,” said the woman, in a wavering voice. “Welcome home, Danny.”
“Um,” said Danny, “hi. Are you Maddie? The file didn’t really say which one of you was which… or really anything about yourselves…?”
“Yes,” said Maddie, with a painful smile. She looked like she was about to cry. “I’m Maddie, this is Jack. We’re so happy to have you here. So happy.” She took his hands in hers and squeezed them.
“Okay?” He looked around. “So… You’re remodeling?”
“Yes,” said Maddie. “We’re sorry about that, but all of this came as such a surprise.”
“A big surprise, son,” said Jack. His voice sounded rough, like he’d been crying. “All of the important things are done, though! Everything’s safe! Just not very pretty, that’s all. Just looks different.”
“Like you,” said Maddie, quickly. “Not that that’s a bad thing, is it? We’re very– The ears and the tail– Those are new but not bad. This is just like that.”
Danny nodded, hesitantly. “Right. That’s cool. So, um.” He looked around the entryway again. “Show me around?”
“Right, right,” said Maddie. “Of course.”
“Sorry about that!” said Jack. “It’s just that you grew up here and all. You don’t remember that, but it’s hard for us to remember it. To remember that you, er, don’t remember.” Jack patted Danny’s shoulder gingerly.
“Yes,” said Maddie. “We’ll– We’ll do the main floor first, then the bedrooms upstairs.”
The tour of the ground floor went much as expected. He saw the living room, a number of closets (which looked like they’d been ransacked), the garage (suspiciously empty), a bathroom (strangely untouched), a dining room (dusty), and the kitchen.
His initial impression of the kitchen matched his impression of the house in general. Normal, but hastily altered. There was a long strip of torn-up wall near the refrigerator. The microwave was brand new to the point that the box it came in was still sitting next to it. There was a door-sized patch of new wall that matched up with scratches on the floor that strongly suggested the patch had been a door up until fairly recently.
This… this was suspicious. Should he ask about it? Play dumb?
“Now, up to the rooms!” said Jack, sweeping Danny out of the kitchen.
“Usually,” said Maddie, “your sister Jazz would be here, but right now she’s away, so it’s just the three of us.”
“Why?”
“Why what, Danno?” asked Jack.
“Why is she away?”
“College,” said Maddie, quickly. “She’s a couple years older than you are, so she’s away at college. The two of you were very close, though.”
“Best friends!” shouted Jack from his position at the top of the stairs.
Well, there was that confirmation. Jazz was definitely his sister.
… Jazz actually looked a lot like Maddie, so that was also a point in favor of Maddie and Jack being his actual parents. Which, uh. Did being shady run in the family? Did he come off like this to other people? He hoped not.
“Which one was her room?” asked Danny.
“This one,” said Jack. Then he pointed towards a room two doors down. “And this is yours! You two shared the bathroom, but she’s not here, so it’s all yours, too!”
“Cool,” said Danny. He slipped past Jack to the door and opened it.
The walls and ceiling of the room were a pale blue gray, glow in the dark stars just barely visible in contrast. Posters for bands and spaceships were taped to the wall, some of them in better repair than others. There was a dresser with a drawer sticking part way out, the sleeve of a shirt stopping it from fully closing. Model rockets, most of them clumsily made, sat on shelves beside other knick-knacks. A corkboard on the wall had schoolwork, ribbons, and a few crumpled tickets to movies and concerts pinned on it. A scooter and telescope were propped up in one corner.
“They had us take down your photographs,” said Maddie. “But we left everything else the way it was. Except for cleaning.”
“Something about being biased! As if knowing things is going to make you biased! Maybe if we’d known–”
“Jack, honey,” said Maddie. “Not the time.”
“Oh, right, sorry, son.”
Danny nodded, then stepped in to walk a circuit of the room. This room, more than any of the others he had stayed in, felt lived in. Like it was a home.
But he couldn’t forget Frostbite’s warning. Or the chaos downstairs.
“So, um,” said Danny, before he could wimp out. He held the pocketwatch in one hand. Just in case. “In the kitchen, you have a door covered up. What’s with that?”
“Uh, nothing,” said Jack.
“Just an unfinished basement,” said Maddie, her smile going brittle and fake. “That’s all. It wasn’t– It wasn’t safe down there. For children. It wasn’t built right. So we decided to just cover it up. To show that we’re prepared to keep you safe.”
There was a mad science lab down there, wasn’t there?
What if that was where he had died?
Danny swallowed and pasted on a smile. “Cool. So… what do we do together?”
They stared blankly at him.
“You know, for fun? Or hanging out?”
“We used to stargaze together a lot,” said Maddie.
“And we’d go fishing!” boomed Jack.
“Yeah, but we can’t really do either of those, right? We’re stuck inside.”
“That’s true… But we do have our movies, don’t we? And some games.”
“Righto!” said Jack. “I’ll go get the stuff!”
.
The movie they had finally settled on was a space documentary. Watching it was nice, even if the popcorn was a little burnt.
Watching Jack and Maddie try to cook dinner afterward, though… They seemed to keep reaching for things that weren’t there, or bumping into each other, like they expected there to be more room, or, well. The food looked presentable enough, but there was a mess. A big one.
Still, the macaroni and cheese looked and smelled fine.
“One of your favorites!” said Jack, proudly. “After this, we’ll have some fudge!” He served Danny a scoop bigger than his head, then took a big ceramic mug from the cabinet and filled it with soda.
Danny mentally shrugged and picked up his fork. If he couldn’t eat it, he couldn’t eat it.
“So,” he said, after eating a few bites, “how did the whole ghost thing happen?”
“Pardon?” asked Maddie, looking a little pale.
“Well, my situation is a bit weird, isn’t it? I was just wondering if you knew how it happened.”
“No,” said Maddie. “I’m afraid not. It’s a mystery to us, too. Like we said, we were surprised by all of… this.”
That was weird. If Jazz knew, shouldn’t they know, too?
Or maybe they just didn’t want to tell him.
He fiddled idly with the mug. There were clumsy, childish stars and moons painted on its side.
“Do you like it?” asked Maddie. “You painted that. We went to one of those pottery places for Jazz’s seventh birthday. You were both so young back then…”
“I did?” asked Danny.
“You did,” said Maddie. “If you look at the bottom, you’ll see your initials.”
Danny held the cup up over his head and looked at the bottom. The letters DJF were painted on the bottom.
“What do the J and F stand for?”
“James Fenton,” said Maddie. “James was Jack’s father’s name.”
“And Fenton?”
“Our name. Our family name.”
“Huh,” said Danny. He set the mug back down, but kept his fingers looped around the handle of the mug. It was… grounding, somehow, to touch something from his childhood, from his past. “Do you know why this, um, trial was started?” He took another bite of the macaroni and cheese so he had something to do with his other hand.
“No,” said Maddie, quickly.
“Maddie…”
“We don’t.”
Alright, then.
It was suddenly very hard to swallow.
“We don’t know. We don’t know why any of this happened. But we’re so glad you’re with us again. We’re so glad this is almost over.”
“I know!” shouted Jack, suddenly, making Danny, already tense, jerk sideways in alarm. “When this is over, we can go back to that place and make another–”
Danny had still been holding the mug, and when he flinched, he took the mug with him. He fumbled it briefly before it hit the ground, interrupting whatever Jack was saying and plashing soda everywhere.
“Oops,” said Danny, stricken. “Sorry. I’m really sorry, um.” He had telekinesis. Why couldn’t he just–
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Jack, kneeling and picking up the pieces.
“I can do that,” said Danny. “You don’t have to–”
“No, no, I’ve got it,” said Jack. “We’ll just put it right back together! A little superglue and it’ll be as right as rain.”
“I’ve got the mop. You just stay there and eat, okay, Danny?”
That was, like, the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. He wanted to do something to help, but something about the situation held him paralyzed.
“Yeah!” said Jack, rinsing the shards in the kitchen sink. “We just need some glue, then we’ll put it right!”
“Make sure it dries first,” said Maddie, maneuvering a large mop.
“Oh, right!”
He put the pieces on a dishtowel and began to pat them off. Danny, slowly, reluctantly, began to eat again.
“What were you saying before, Jack?”
“Oh, I was thinking that we could go back to that pottery place after all this. Make a few new pieces. It looks like we’ll need it, huh? What do you think, Danny?”
“Um, it sound like it could be fun?”
“Then it’s a plan! We’ll have to rope Jazz in, too, when she’s back in town!”
Speaking of Jazz… Danny had to wonder why she was competing separately from these two. She definitely wasn’t at college, after all. Was it because of what Frostbite had said? Or some other rule of the trial that Clockwork hadn’t mentioned? Or just a strategy to give the family two chances?
He had no idea how to ask those questions.
But then… maybe there was something in Jazz’s room? Or even in his room.
“Want to help me put this back together?” asked Jack. “I’ve got to go find my tools, so if you could just arrange them…”
“You both need to eat first,” said Maddie, “before our food gets cold.”
“Right you are, Maddie!”
Danny had, somehow, lost most of his appetite, but he ate anyway, knowing that if he didn’t he’d be hungry later. When he estimated he’d eaten enough, he pushed aside his plate and went over to the shards of the mug.
It had broken unevenly, which meant that it would be easier to figure out what went where. He started sorting the pieces, and as he did so, he felt himself start to calm down again.
Jack ruffled his hair when he was about halfway through, making Danny freeze, his ears canting backwards.
“I’ve got the super glue!” he said before sitting back down at the table.
They worked together to put the mug back together after that, stars reemerging from scattered shards. It was… peaceful. Sort of like watching Clockwork work in his workroom. Eventually, the mug was, more or less, together, although the cracks were still very visible.
“There we go! Just like a puzzle, huh? How’d you like working with your old man again?”
“It was good,” said Danny.
“Yeah, it was good,” said Jack, beaming. “Maybe I’ll show you how to h– Ahem. I’ll show you how to knit next! I do love knitting. And needlepoint. Fiber art is great, Danny. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“That sounds nice,” said Danny, smiling. Then he yawned.
“Oh, wow, you’ve got some fangs in there! That’s new.” He cleared his throat. “It’s getting pretty late, though, isn’t it? You should get into bed. You’ve had a long day!”
Danny wasn’t sure how long the day had been, but he was tired. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“We have your toothbrush and everything up in your bathroom,” said Maddie.
“Thanks,” said Danny. “I’ll go up, then?”
“Wait!” shouted Jack, making Danny jump again. “The fudge! Can’t go to bed without fudge!”
“I’m actually pretty full…”
“Nonsense! There’s always room for fudge.”
So, they ate fudge, and then Danny went upstairs to the bathroom.
As promised, there was a toothbrush, floss, and a hairbrush already set out. There was a cabinet set into the mirror, and another under the sink.
He hesitated for a moment before opening the one over the sink. There was a bottle of aspirin and a few boxes of bandaids, but it was otherwise empty. Next, he looked under the sink. Mostly, there were cleaning supplies. But there was also a large first aid box. It had a bright green stain on one corner.
Danny sucked in his lips, then pulled it out and started to look through it as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet. It looked like it had been used frequently. Most of the refillables were mostly empty.
What had happened that he’d used so much of this? Because it had to be him. No one else living here would have left an ectoplasm stain on the lid.
Frostbite’s claim was looking more and more plausible the more he learned.
He closed the lid and put the box away. He was going to give the Fentons the benefit of the doubt until he got actual evidence one way or another. Frostbite had said that he’d never actually met them. So.
Jazz’s room. While he was still mostly awake. It was getting late.
He walked through the wall into the room next door. Jazz’s room was… less empty than he would have expected, given that she had her own house. But it looked like someone had moved out of the room in an awful hurry. More of the drawers in the dresser were opened than closed, clothing was strewn over the bed, the chair had been knocked over, the desktop computer tower had been opened up and the hard drive removed.
Danny searched the room, but didn’t find anything but a note in Jazz’s handwriting, something about reminding him of a school assignment. Everything else was just… clothing, books, his sister’s knick-knacks. Nothing important.
Defeated, he went back to his room, curled up in his bed, and went to sleep under the fake stars.
.
Danny was going to give the Fentons a week, just like he’d given everyone else, unless they did something really unbelievable or dangerous, like the Observants, or forgot to feed him or something. He’d already decided that, and he’d stick to it, even if they were being sketchy.
So, he stuck with Maddie’s frantic baking, and Jack interrupting himself whenever he, apparently accidentally, mentioned engineering or science. He let it go when they dodged his questions about what they did for a living. He knitted with Jack, and watched documentaries and movies, and helped Maddie make lunch and breakfast, and slowly started working through the comics he’d found in his room. He listened to Jack as he monologued about this and that and letting the broken mug ‘set.’ He helped with the ‘remodel’ as much as he could, and looked for clues about what, exactly, Jack and Maddie had removed.
He also searched his own room, but the Observants, or whoever had prepared the trial, had been very thorough when making sure there was no direct physical evidence of Danny having ever lived here. Not only were there no pictures, the schoolwork on the walls was old enough that Danny couldn’t say if the handwriting really was his, and it wasn’t like he’d found a journal or anything anywhere. There was just a feeling.
What he didn’t do, though, was look through the walled-off door in the kitchen.
If there was a mad science lab anywhere, it was there. And if a mad science lab was here, it was probably where he had died. He… Didn’t really want to see that. He wasn’t sure he could see that and stay… reasonable… with Jack and Maddie.
But… he had to know.
So, just the day before he’d ‘scheduled’ himself to leave, he stood in front of that patch of wall and stepped through.
It was predictably dark. But Danny had both good night vision and the ability to create balls of light, so he called one up.
The basement wasn’t unfinished. It was, in fact, a mad science lab.
He hated being right.
It wasn’t just a mad science lab, though. It was a half destroyed mad science lab. Shelves had been knocked over, machines had been partially disassembled. One area in particular looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and then dumped ectoplasm and something gross and brown on it. He couldn’t even tell what some of that stuff was.
And then there was the inactive portal.
Danny floated towards it, despite remembering Vlad’s warning about his portal. It looked almost exactly the same. Maybe a little less shiny, but still…
He yanked himself away from it, not liking how it seemed to grab his attention, and floated over to where filing cabinets had spilled over. He grabbed a piece of paper at random and read it. Then he read it again. Finally, he dropped it back onto the pile.
Jack and Maddie made their money inventing weapons. Good to know.
He floated over to the particularly wrecked area. Was this the result of a weapons test? That would make sense… sort of… so much of this was just meaningless without context, and he couldn’t get context.
There were papers here, too, in a binder half embedded in one wall. Danny pulled it free easily and started to read it.
When he realized what he was reading, he almost dropped the binder. This was– But it had to be for an animal, a dangerous animal they were hunting, or– There were animal ghosts. Frostbite even had the skins and furs of a few.
Danny’s hands were shaking. He wasn’t sweating. Ghost form was good for more than his looks. But he was shaking. And his tail had fluffed out to its fullest extent.
His eyes wandered down the pages, shying away from the worse things, until, finally, he reached a name.
It was his.
Phantom.
He turned to the last page, skipping most of the binder, and read–
This time, he did drop the binder, and he gagged, too. No. No, that didn’t happen to him. He flew backwards, over the bloody mess that had– He ran into one of the walls, and an alarm started up, a broken thing, clearly not working quite right.
Danny fled up the stairs, through the shut, metallic door, through the hasty drywall and into the kitchen. The kitchen, where the alarm was also blaring, and Jack and Maddie were walking through the door in matching bathrobes.
“Were– Were you in the lab?” asked Jack, uncertainly.
“You,” said Danny, struggling to get the words out. “You–”
“Are you hurt?” asked Maddie, reaching for him. “Do you–”
“No!” shouted Danny. “Don’t touch me! Don’t come near me!”
She backed off, immediately, raising her hands so he could see them. He hated that it did make him feel better.
“Danny,” she said. “Danny, I don’t know what you saw–”
“I saw what you did. You hunted me down like– like an animal. You tried to– to–” Danny sagged against the counter, one hand clutching the pocketwatch. He should just hit the button. He should hit the button now. But part of him needed to know why.
“It was a mistake,” said Jack.
“A mistake? You didn’t do that by mistake. You can’t just trip and then do that. There’s planning there, and preparation–”
“No, no,” said Maddie, “not– We didn’t know it was you. You didn’t look like yourself–”
“I don’t look like myself now, are you going to do it again?”
“No,” said both Jack and Maddie, vehemently.
“But you would’ve done it to someone else, is that it?”
“That’s,” said Jack. “Not anymore. Not anymore, son. We’ve made mistakes. We were wrong about so, so many things, but we’re trying. We’re trying, and we never wanted to do anything that would hurt you.”
“We’re trying to make amends,” said Maddie.
“By hiding this?” demanded Danny. “By pretending you didn’t do it?”
“Only because this is our only chance,” she said. “It’s our only chance, and you didn’t even remember. What good would apologizing have done?”
“More good than this. Why did you even do it?”
“We’re scientists,” said Maddie.
“We just wanted to know how ghosts work,” said Jack. “But we’ve sworn all of it off, forever. We even took out the anti-ghost security system! We don’t want to have anything to do with something that hurt you.”
“You hurt me.”
“Please, Danny, you have every right to be angry with us,” said Maddie, “but give this family a chance. We know it’s our fault that things turned out the way they did, but… We’re sorry. We’re sorry, and we love you, and we want to fix this, and doesn’t that count for something?”
“We want to be a family again,” said Jack, openly crying. “We want to show you what that’s like. What it would be like, now that we know. You are our family, Danny.”
“Family,” repeated Danny, suddenly feeling cold, as if all the ice in his core had built to an unbearable level.
He turned around, towards the counter, eyes flicking back and forth until he found what he was looking for.
Danny picked the repaired mug up off the kitchen counter. “This cup,” he said. “It’s like this cup.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jack.
“Please,” said Maddie. “We know that what we did was wrong, and we want to– We just wanted to move past it. We want to be a family again, Danny. We always just wanted you to be safe.”
Danny shook his head and turned the sink on. He put the cup under it and filled it with water. That done, he turned off the sink and he set the cup on the counter. It leaked, horribly. Some of the cracks leaked slowly, seeping water. Some, near the bottom, spurted.
“It’s still a cup,” said Danny. “But you can’t really use it like one anymore, can you? It’s not– It’s probably not even safe to use anymore, is it? With the glue, and the cracks.”
“But it’s still something you made,” said Jack. “It’s still something important, isn’t it? It’s worth saving, for the memories.”
“Maybe,” said Danny. “But you still can’t use it to drink. You, um. You have to get another cup.” He wiped tears from his eyes. “You can remember it, and it can be good to remember it, but it won’t work anymore. It can’t be fixed.”
He turned back to them.
“Please, Danny,” said Jack. “Don’t go. We love you.”
Danny gave them a tiny, pained smile, then said, “Goodbye.”
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An Unconventional Way to Get a Cat- Part 3
Summary: It turns out, Danny's bough of nausea after the portal accident was not just the stomach bug going around school. This must be the most horrifying, disgusting way to find himself a new pet owner.
Part 1 here -> Part 2
Word Count: 2,456
Also on AO3
For @wastefulreverie and @silentambiance (and @ladylynse)
Based on wastefulreverie's prompt: Portal AU. Instead of gaining powers in the accident, the portal is fused inside Danny, making him the gateway between worlds and leaving him with the unfortunate ordeal of vomiting up ghosts. Maybe someone catches him in the act.
And Chaotic_french_fries's prompt: danny gets a ghost cat
And it's done! Enjoy the final chapter. Continued warnings for angst, body horror, and vomiting. Though enjoy more kitty adorableness. Happy reading!
“Oh. You’re still here.” The next morning, Danny woke up to the ghost cat curled up at the foot of his bed. “Morning, missy.”
The cat lifted her head, letting out a quiet mrow. She stood and stretched with a yawn. Then, she sat back down, licking one of her front paws.
Danny stretched as well, grabbing for his phone. He scrolled for a while, relieved that his queasiness had settled. Though…
Coldness still swirled in his belly, eerily similar to the chill at the edge of his… mind? He wasn’t sure what it was. Not sight or sound nor touch. But something, some new, innate sense told him exactly where his ghostly companion was.
Still, the cat was silent at the edge of his bed.
That is until…
“Meow!”
Danny looked up at the sudden exclamation. “What is it?”
A second later, the nausea surged. He gasped and less than a minute later, had thrown up another ghost blob.
He scowled at the blob on the floor before turning to look at the cat. “This is becoming a pattern. Actually….” His brow furrowed with a realization.
The cat just turned her head innocently, letting out what almost sounded like a curious thrill.
“You get noisy everytime, right before I… you know.” Danny frowned at the thought.
The ghost gave no answer, of course. Though she did stand, padding towards him. Her furry side pressed into his side, a low purr starting up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the day, a second, a third passed. And sure enough, it was a pattern. The cat was chill and quiet for the most part. She stayed in his room, playing with dirty socks, begging for pets, sleeping on Danny’s bed. And blessedly keeping out of sight of Danny’s parents.
But whenever he started to feel nauseous…
“Meow!”
Danny’s head jerked up from the plate he’d been picking at. His eyes widened, face turning green.
“What was that?” His mom’s brow crinkled in confusion, head swiveling to look.
The boy stood so quickly, he knocked his chair over. His gaze flittered over the kitchen. No ghost cat…. But a spot near the couch shimmered. His strange new sense stretched and he could feel the chill of his new feline friend.
“Meow!” Another call came
“Was that cat?” His dad asked.
The queasy feeling lurched and Danny shivered “Oh. I… Uh... left my computer on in my room, didn’t I? Those cat videos, am I right?” He forced a laugh, pointing a thumb towards the stairs. “I’ll just run and turn it off.”
His sister’s brow furrowed, suspicious. “Danny, it’s fine. I’m sure it can wait.”
“No. No. Uh.” He suddenly hiccuped. The taste of limes and old pennies welled on his tongue. He visibly grimaced, a hand covering his mouth. “I’ll turn it.. Hic… off.”
Jazz’s expression shifted, eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay?”
Danny turned, hurrying off. “Of course… of course I’m fine. Why would you… hic..” Something thick swirled at the base of his esophagus. “I’ll be right back.” His voice squeaked, more nervously high pitched with each word.
But he had no time to worry about it, nor his family’s perplexed gazes, fixed on the back of his head. Instead, he ran up the stairs and tore open the door to the upstairs bathroom.
The boy knelt, barely making it to the toilet bowl in time. He wretched, ectoplasm flowing up. His jaw forced itself wider, something slimy and suction-cupped slinking its way out. The creature plopped into the bowl, letting out a screech. A second later, it darted up into the air, bobbing in front of the boy’s lowered head.
Eight tentacles, a bulbous body, large eerily human-like eyes, a mouth that looked like it had been drawn on with crayon. Danny flinched away, nose wrinkling in disgust. “What the hell.”
With a pop, Missy reappeared. Yowling, the cat lunged. Sharp claws dug into the other ghost and dragged it through the wall.
The boy grimaced. “Weird squid-octupus thing…” He whipped his mouth, then frowned, a prick of worry. “I hope Missy will be okay.” He moved to wash out his mouth, picking up a cup and filling it with water to gurgle. “She’ll be fine.” He shook his head, reassuring himself. His cat knew how to take care of herself.
His cat…. The thought gave him pause, movement stopping mid-gurgle. His cat… His brow wrinkled, mind flickering to the fluffy green fur curled on his bed, those wide green begging for pets. It seemed like the cat really was his. He had named her Missy, after all.
Danny swished the water in his mouth and spat. He washed his face, his complexion shifting from a sickish green back to its normal pink. He let out a sigh, both relieved and tired.
“I’m getting sick of this.” He muttered.
A week of nausea, of interrupted sleep, of running off at inopportune times to throw up. At least it was summer, he sighed. He didn’t have to hide this during class. His friends were out of town, so he hadn’t seen them in person, hadn’t had to run off on them yet but…
His stomach churned, dread at the thought. When they came back… what would he tell them? Could he tell them at all? And-
“Danny?” His sister’s hand gently knocked at the bathroom door.
The boy grimaced. He’d completely forgotten about running off on family dinner.
His eyes flickered around the scene, checking the floor, the toilet, his face in the mirror. To his relieve, there was no sign of ectoplasm or ghostly visitors.
“Danny?” Jazz called again, more insistently.
The boy turned, opening the door with his best annoyed-younger-sibling face. “What?”
“I wanted to see if you were coming back.” Her brows wrinkled, concerned. “Are you feeling okay? You ran off in a hurry.” Her eyes flickered back to the toilet suspiciously.
Danny’s stomach flopped nervously but he pushed it down, crossing arms. “Can’t a guy just go to the bathroom, jes?”
Jazz’s worried gaze didn’t waver. “You looked nauseous. Do you need some pepto? There’s a bottle-”
“Who are you? Mom?” He sneered, storming past her. “Let’s just finish this stupid dinner.”
“I’m allowed to be worried.” Jazz stomped after him. “And it’s not stupid.The four of us have barely seen each other since the ‘portal’ opened.” The air quotes were audible. “Maybe I just want us to eat together for once, like a normal family.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Danny rolled his eyes, the perfect picture of annoyance.
But inside, his stomach flopped guilty. Truthfully, he’d been avoiding his family. Which wasn’t too hard with his parents’ single minded focus on the miraculously functional portal. But his sister…
“And family dinners are good for building communication skills and strengthening family bonds. We should be invested in each other’s lives.” Her face softened. “And I want to know what you’re up to, what’s on your mind, little brother. Even if it is all ranting about video games.”
Yeah, great in theory. In practice…. The cold in his stomach twisted. An icy secret threatening to spill at the smaller prod.
Danny said nothing, just sitting down and picking at his food. He couldn’t help but feel Jazz’s disappointed eyes on him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the week passed with Danny still running and hiding, the nausea still always lingering below the surface, his new cat acting as a meowing warning beckon.
He avoided his sister more than ever, refusing every insistence that he join family meals.
“Danny, I made spaghetti.” Jazz held up the pot, eyes wide and pleading.
“Oh, I uh… already ate.” The boy lied, gaze nervously flitting around the room. A familiar presence shimmered at the edge of his… ghost sense. Out the corner of his eye…. Furry ears just visible on the other side of the living room window. Paws rested on the sill, a cat’s head perking in.
His sister’s brow furrowed. “What are you looking at-”
“Nothing!” He cut her off. Then forcing himself to sound calmer. “I was going to go for a walk so…” He pointed out the door and turned, half jogging. “Bye Jazz. Have a good dinner.”
Danny closed the door, turning to the cat with narrowed eyes.
Missy lowered her paws to sit primly on the lawn. Ears low and flattened, Danny almost imagined she looked guilty. Or maybe just innocently confused.
The boy’s face softened. He couldn’t stay annoyed with her for long. “Come on then.”
Danny took off, the animal following dutifully. Odd behavior for a cat but… Missy was a ghost after all. Some strange behavior could be forgiven.
The pair made their way to the park a few blocks away. The boy found a small, secluded clearing in the small woods. He sat on the grass, pulling a package out of his pocket.
“I picked these out on my last walk.” He held out a furry black mouse-shaped toy.
The cat padded forward, daintily sniffing at the object.
“You like the mousy?” With a smile, Danny dropped the toy at Missy’s feet. The ghost sniffed more eagerly and he grinned. “Yeah? Figured you’d like that catnip.”
The cat lowered into a crouch, batting at the toy once. She watched it for a moment, eyes slitted and ears forward.
Then as quickly as she’d taken interest, the animals sat up, turning away. She licked at her paw, focused on her grooming.
“Seriously?” Danny blinked, disbelieving. “How about this one?” He offered the rest of the pack one at a time. Dark brown, tan, white.
Missy’s eyes swiveled, widening as they fixed on him.
The boy perked up. “That’s it, girl. Check out your new toys.”
The cat crouched, hind counters wiggling. She pounced…
“Oh come on.”
Not on one of the toy mice but for a white butterfly, gently flitting between the flowers.
“Typical.” Danny rolled his eyes.
Still, he smiled while he watched the cat chase the insect. She leapt, claws just falling short. The butterfly flapped up, out of reach. Missy chased it, attention quickly darting to another insect. For several minutes, she ran, going after her own tail just as often as the various bugs.
A yellow swallow-tail butterfly fluttered passed and Missy pursued, eyes round and eager. She ran for it, swiping but… missed. Instead, the cat got a nose full of black-eyes susan.
Tail whipping, the ghost snapped into a sit. Her head jerked back, eyes pinching closed as she sneezed adorably.
Danny burst out laughing.
After that, Missy settled down, the zoomies thoroughly exhausted. The boy laid down in the grass, surrounded by the flowers. Fluffy white clouds drifted across the sky. Danny watched them, smiling softly at the rumbling purr of the cat beside him.
It was almost enough to forget his troubles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The relaxing excursion eventually had to end though. The sun dipped below the trees and Danny had to go home. He trudged down the street, wary of another night of hiding, of avoiding.
The boy opened the door carefully, eyes on alert for familiar figures in the living room. He let out a sigh, seeing no one.
He went inside and closed the door. His eyes darted to the stairs. He wanted to just head up stairs but… his stomach rumbled, demanding food.
Danny frowned down at it. He hadn’t eaten much the last week, the nausea being so hard to work through but… it was manageable now. Actually… barely noticeable.
He felt a bit of awe at the realization. Maybe this was actually starting to get better.
Mind made up, the boy made his way to the kitchen. He opened the pantry and the fridge, much more confidently than he had any day this past week. Cereal and milk sounded perfect.
At the table, Danny ate one bowl. He noted, half aware as Missy invisibly lounged on the couch. She curled up, falling asleep as he enjoyed a second bowl.
Danny was almost done when Jazz entered.
“I thought you already ate.” His sister raised a brow questioningly.
He tensed at the question before swallowing, trying to appear casual. “I wanted a snack. Is that a crime?”
Jazz raised her hands. “I’m just glad you’re feeling well enough to eat again.”
Danny went for another bite but paused. There was… no hostility, no skepticism in the statement. Just plain relief. “What are you talking about?”
His sister raised a brow. “I’m not deaf, Danny. I know what someone throwing up sounds like. I don’t know why you felt the need to hide that you were sick.” She shook her head. “I’m just happy you’re getting better.”
Speaking of getting better…
“Meow! Meow!”
Danny’s eyes widened, suddenly panicked. “Not now.”
“What was that?” Jazz’s head turned, suddenly bewildered.
“I was watching a cat video.” The boy lied, looking down at the notable lack of his cell phone .
“But… there isn’t…”
He abruptly stood up. That damned queasiness rising. “I forgot. I’ve gotta.. Thing.” The pool of cold in his stomach swirled violently, green and ice rushing up his throat, through his veins. His face was definitely turning green.
Danny ran for the bathroom and Jazz ran after. “You’re still feeling sick!?”
“No. I’m…” He gagged, his breath sour and coppery. “Fine.”
“No, you’re not.” The boy ran through the door and turned, just in time to slam it on his sister’s face. “Danny!”
“No! I just ate too fast. I’m…” He panted, ectoplasm forcing its way up. “Fine.”
“Danny! It’s been a week. If you’re still feeling sick, you need to see a doctor. I can’t believe I didn’t….”
Jazz kept talking but Danny couldn't hear her, couldn’t focus. He heaved, vomiting ectoplasm into the toilet. It stuck to the inside of his mouth, his throat, as thick, slimy and disgusting as ever.
He faintly registered his cat, rubbing herself against his leg. Her own catty way of comforting him.
Another wave. Danny panted, trying to calm the heaving, easing the upheaval. But… he couldn’t breath. Something large pressed against the base of his esophagus.
The size, the dimensions didn’t make sense. Much too large for his throat but… still it came. It stretched, it unraveled, it unmade, it… remade.
A flash of green left Danny seeing spots. Shakily, he rose from the ground… and higher. The boy bobbed in the air. He was… floating? Also, glowing, bright light thrown from his skin. Or… not his skin? White gloves, black sleeves. Was this an inverted version of his hazmat suit?
What just happened?
“Danny! I swear, if you don’t-” Suddenly, Jazz bursted in.
Shoot! Jazz, he’d completely forgotten….
Like two deer caught in head-lights, the two siblings stared at each other.
“Danny?”
Note:
And that's it. A little rough, since I just wanted to get this posted and didn't have time to proof read.
I hope you enjoyed Danny and Missy's adventures. Writing the kitty was very fun and precious to me. She'd definitely based on my girlie, who basically never meows and had no reaction to catnip.
Also, sorry, not sorry for the cliffhanger. My plan was always to get to the Jazz reveal, though I wasn't interested in writing her reaction. Though, Danny's ghost form finally coming through ate the end there was a surprise for me too. I have some deranged ideas about how Danny's ghost form works in this au though. So if someone wants to send me as ask on tumblr, maybe I'll talk some about that.
Also a note on this AU! Writing a Portal AU was very surreal and exciting for me! This AU was what got me into writing DP fics. @ladylynse 's Passageway was the first dp fic I remember reading and being enthralled by. It made me want to start writing my own fics. And I've wanted to write my own Portal AU for years but I've always been too intimidated to. But then, I saw the prompt for phic phight and it reignited that spark. So thank you wastefulreverie for finally getting me to write this!
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moms always find it
summary:
It's just one ecto-pen, his mom won't find the other stuff he's got hidden around his room.
Probably.
based on @echoghost1's prompt "Danny has lost something important and Mom has started to help him look. Unfortunately, he's got a habit of using his powers to store things in odd places and she isn't going to give up until they find it."
Ao3 Link | Phight '24 series
“Really, it’s not a big deal—”
“Nonsense!” Mom said, violently stripping the covers from his bed. “That was an important and practical invention!”
Danny held up his hands. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry; I really didn’t mean to lose it.” Didn’t mean to shout that he’d lost it either. “But I can look through my room on my own,” —with his powers, because 9 times out of 10 it was in the walls or furniture somewhere—“you really don’t have to… help like this.”
Mom threw the sheets on the ground, then turned to face him as she reached for his mattress. “Well, young man, I wouldn’t have to rummage around your room if you kept track of your things. Especially, prototype inventions like the Fenton Ecto-gun Mk 4 Ink Utensil,” she said with a huff. “Now either you help me look or—”
As Mom started to lift the mattress, Danny spotted a piece of something silver and green sticking directly out of his bed frame.
“Don’t lift that!” he yelled, jumping atop his mattress.
Mom shrieked as she yanked her hands back. “Daniel James Fenton, be careful! You could’ve taken my fingers off!” She glared at him. “I know you’re a growing boy, I’m not going to judge you for whatever magazines you keep to yourself, but really never do that again.”
As much as Danny would love to defend himself, there was a stunning lack of any and all other excuses he could possibly make at the moment. All his usual wit went down the toilet the moment Mom’s knee-jerk reaction was to assume he had R rated magazines hidden under his bed.
“As I was saying the Fenton Ecto-gun Mk 4—”
“Ecto-pen.”
She furrowed her brow. “Pardon?”
He laughed stiffly. “Well, you know, ‘Fenton Ecto-gun Mk 4 Ink Utensil’ is a bit of a mouthful, right? So, we’ve been calling it an ecto-pen.”
She stared at him, unimpressed. “We?"
“Yeah—me, Sam, and Tucker.”
“Danny,”—ugh, there’s the ‘you’re in trouble’ voice—“how many times do we have to tell you: no letting your friends operate our inventions. They don’t have the safety training.”
Danny furrowed his brows. “What safety training?”
“Oh haha, very funny.” She crouched down to check under his desk. “I know your father went over it with you kids ages ago. Trying to pretend you don’t remember so you can show off to your friends is not acceptable young man.”
Hmm. Best to just agree and move on. “Right. Yeah, of course. Can’t get anything by you, Mom.”
Danny’s eyes roamed the room and he sighed in relief. Nothing out of place—
There was a spool of anti-ghost fishing wire sticking out of the carpet by Mom’s foot.
“Well, it’s not under there.”
Danny rolled off the bed and scrambled against the ground. Mom startled, bumping her head against the underside of his desk with a hiss. Danny managed to slap a hand over the spool and push it all the way into the floor before she leaned back to scowl at him.
“Danny, what do you think you’re doing?”
Danny gulped. “Just… hanging?”
Mom narrowed her eyes, looking him up and down. Her gaze drew to his outstretched hand, still partially cupped against the carpet. She dragged a hand down her face.
“We’re going to be having a talk later.”
“We can have a talk now.”
“Not a talk,” she said. “The talk.”
“Huh?” The gears in his head clicked together. “Oh. OH.” Danny waved his hands. “NO! That is absolutely NOT necessary. Actually, you know what? Dad’s already told it to me so you can just not worry about it, just like the safety training!”
“Your father hasn’t taken the puppets out of storage yet, but nice try.” Mom pushed herself up. “And clearly, it is necessary. Magazines are one thing, but if you’ve already gotten to condoms and possibly other people then it’s time for some parental advice.” Mom tutted. “We have to teach you to keep yourself healthy, sweetie.”
“How did you get—?” Danny stood too, holding out his hands. “Look, nothing here! No condoms or anything! And why did you jump straight to condoms?!”
“How do I know you didn’t hide them down your sleeve—”
“I’m wearing a t-shirt!”
Mom threw her arms out. “Well, what am I supposed to think? You never let me in your room anymore and you’re kicking up such a fuss while I look for our prototype, I kept finding weird stains on the carpet earlier, and you keep being sarcastic and temperamental—”
Something plipped on her hand and she looked up, mouth open to keep ranting before abruptly cutting herself off.
“Uh.” Danny waved at her. She didn’t move. It was like she was frozen like a statue. “Mom? You okay?”
“Up.”
“Up?”
Slowly, Mom pointed upwards. Danny followed her finger, staring up at the ceiling.
Oh.
Up.
There were dozens of Fenton brand inventions partially phased into the ceiling. The top half of the Fenton Ghost Fisher, the buckle of the Fenton Specter Deflector, a banged up knob from the Fenton Booo-merang, the glowing radar from the Fenton Finder, and one of the wheels from a Fenton Skateboard.
And, of course, half of the Fenton Ecto-Pen, dripping ink onto the carpet and Mom’s outstretched hand.
There was a long, heavy pause.
“So,” Danny said, slow and drawn out. “You remember that one time you sent me to magic camp?”
#danny phantom#danny fenton#maddie fenton#phic phight#phic phight 2024#nemo the writing ho#hehe you thought i forgot about phight didnt you#welp you'd be wrong!
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Snow Way Home
After the portal accident, Danny is reincarnated as a baby yeti.
For the prompt: After the portal accident, Danny finds himself in the ghost zone (not that he knows that’s where he is). He has become a baby yeti and feels lost and alone. He eventually finds his way to the Far Frozen through instinct, where Frostbite finds him and takes him in. Fluff ensues! [from Neighbor]
Read also on AO3
[No applicable warnings]
Danny felt cold. A deep, penetrating cold that coursed through his veins and made a home in his very bones. But it didn't bother him. He was suspended in a bright green sky, so high above everything that he couldn't see the ground no matter which way he looked, almost like he was in space. He didn't know his up from down, his right from left.
And he was cold. A soft, comfortable cold, like the underside of a pillow, like a breeze on a hot day, like ice cream, or tiny raindrops drifting through a fog. Actually, he was a hundred times colder than any of those, but the cold felt the same.
The last thing he remembered, he was with his friends, poking around his parents' lab. Sam had been taking pictures, and she told him he should go in the portal and then—
Danny heard the sound of a baby crying, and it was close, but when he looked around, he didn't see anyone. Then, he realized the sound was coming from him. Slowly, the crying faded into tiny hiccups and then silence as Danny took stock of where, and more importantly what, he was.
His hands were tiny, and covered in white fur. His nails were thin, translucent claws. He kicked his legs up and saw that his feet were much the same—small, clawed, and covered in white fur. When he reached up to touch his face, he discovered that it, too, was fuzzy, with a damp nose at then end of a snout, no teeth, and floppy ears on the sides of his head. In fact, his whole body appeared to be fluffy and white like fresh snow. And except for the fur, he was naked.
He was a baby... something. A tiny little thing, lost in a vast and empty green sky, and he was alone. He started to cry again, but just as the ice-cold tears began to fall, he felt a weak tugging sensation in his chest. It didn't stop him crying, but he did let him pull him on an air current.
He followed the pull for what felt like days, until, in the distance he saw a floating island covered in ice, all sharp and jagged. In his head, he looked at those edges, and icicles, and spikes, and he thought that it looked like no place for a baby. But in his heart—or... whatever was pulsing in this chest now that felt both like a heart and very unlike a heart—he knew that was home, and he allowed himself to drift gently toward it until he was close enough for the island's gravity to pull him to the snowy ground.
It was a long several minutes before Danny managed to actually stand on his own two feet, but as soon as he took a step on the shifting snow, he fell. He tried several more times to get up and walk forward, but between the shifty, uneven ground and his underdeveloped baby legs, he never managed to stay upright for long. At least the fresh snow provided a nice, soft surface for him to fall on.
Eventually, Danny gave up and began to crawl forward on his hand and knees, calling out every so often. His mouth was uncooperative when it came to forming words, but it didn't stop him from making a decently loud "Eh!" sound every once in a while.
Then, after a few hours of crawling and yelling through the snow, he heard footsteps. Actually, he felt more than heard them, heavy, thumping footsteps that sent vibrations through the snow. Involuntarily, Danny began to cry again. Was this why babies cried all the time? They just couldn't stop themselves if they wanted to.
The footsteps grew closer and closer, and Danny couldn't run, so he just sat there, tugged on his floppy ears, and cried, hoping whatever monster appeared might take pity on him and at least kill him quickly—bite his head off in one big chomp, like he was a gummy bear, so he wouldn't have to suffer.
Finally, the monster rounded a massive jutting spike of ice, and Danny saw what it was. It looked like a yeti, with jagged, icy horns, huge teeth and claws, and glowing yellow eyes. Its left arm was made of ice, through which the bones were visible.
Danny cried louder, and the yeti knelt down, shushing him gently, and reached out with its soft, left arm.
"Shh," he said, in a deep, soothing voice. "Hush, little one. You did well in getting this far, and I'm so proud of you. I shall take you the rest of the way, little one."
Hesitantly, Danny let his tears lighten up, and allowed the yeti to scoop his tiny body into his huge arm and carry him off.
"I am Frostbite," the yeti introduces as he walked. "This is the Realm of the Far Frozen, home to all yeti, including you, little one. And I am its ruler."
As the yeti spoke, Danny looked up at him intently, hanging onto every word. So he was a baby yeti, then. Had he been reincarnated after—a stark fear and discomfort gripped him as he remembered again what had happened to him before winding up here. It must've killed him, he realized belatedly.
Frostbite gently hushed him again. "Shh, shh, little one," he said softly, stroking a frozen claw against the fluffy fur of Danny's face. "You have very intelligent eyes for one so young," the yeti observed. "It's almost as if you can even understand me. And I sense turmoil within you. Did something distressing happen on your journey? Or perhaps... before."
Danny tried to speak, but only succeeded in making a some infantile babbling noises and staring up at frostbite with huge eyes.
"You know, you have rather unusual eyes for a yeti. Most of us have yellow sclera and dark irises, but yours are green, with irises of pale blue," Frostbite mused.
Danny blinked owlishly at him. He hadn't seen his own eyes since showing up in this place of existence, wherever it was, so he hadn't known that. He wondered if it meant anything.
As if in answer, Frostbite said, "It would seem you are favored by the ectoplasm, the very energy of which everything in the Infinite Realms is constructed. That makes you rather special indeed.
"Once we get back to the village, I will take you to the soothsayer. She will divine your name, and determine your ideal parentage. Perhaps today will finally be the day I get to claim a child for my own."
Unsure what to say to that, and unable to say anything regardless, Danny kept staring at the yeti. This was his life, now, it would seem. Or perhaps his afterlife.
As he said, Frostbite carried Danny into a frozen, but cozy-looking village full of yetis. As soon as they saw Danny, several of them came over to coo and fawn over him, and Frostbite made his way to the soothsayer's hut very slowly as he had to keep stopping every few feet to let someone get a good look at Danny. It was overwhelming, and it wasn't long before Danny buried his face in Frostbite's fluffy chest to avoid their eyes.
Finally, the light changed, and Danny looked up to see that he'd been taken into a small, dimly lit hut draped in cloth and furs. In the center of the room was a low fire pit full of glowing coals and embers, circled by worn, blue cushions.
"Galacia," Frostbite called out gently. "Are you here?"
"I live here," croaked an old woman's voice.
Frostbite and Danny both jumped with a start, and looked over to see and elderly, hunched over female yeti. The white fur framing her face was longer and braided, and she war a twisted, golden circlet. One of her horns was broken, and one of her eyes was milky white, and a blue shawl with gold trim was draped over her shoulders.
"I see you've brought me a child," Galacia said. "Let's have a look at him."
She reached out with two skinny, bony arms, and Frostbite gently lowered Danny into them. Danny had been bracing himself for hard angles digging into him, but with the both of them being covered in fur, it wasn't any less comfortable than being held by Frostbite.
"What is his name, Galacia?" Frostbite asked.
"Well, let's just see, shall we?"
She stepped just outside, to where a crowd was gathered, and shifted Danny so he was being help in just one of her arms. Then she reached up with the other to grab one her her braids and ran her fingers down to the tassel at the end. She lifted the tassel to Danny's nose and tickled it.
Danny giggled for a moment, until he felt a sneeze coming on.
"Ah-choo!" He sniffed.
Galacia stared intently at the cloud of condensation that puffed and curled up into the air above him when he sneezed, humming thoughtfully, and when it dissipated she nodded. He waited for her to declare his name was Danny, but instead, she said something completely different.
"He shall be named Polaris, after the star of the north, which is steadfast, enduring, and a guiding light to its people, always there to point the way," the soothsayer announced.
Danny—no... Polaris felt an icy calmness settle into his chest, a rightness like he had never felt before. Though he hadn't been expecting it, it did logically follow that since he was now a yeti, he would be given a yeti name. He'd never met humans named Frostbite, or Galacia, a yeti couldn't be named something so mundane as Danny. Plus... it felt both fitting, and incredibly flattering to be named after a star.
"And... what shall be his parentage," Frostbite asked. He was standing behind Galacia now, in the doorway of the hut. Danny—Polaris could see him over the soothsayer's shoulder, looking hesitantly hopeful.
She put her cold hand on Polaris' soft chest, and closed her eyes, and hummed a low, rattling hum. Then, at once, she stopped cold and her eyes snapped open once more.
"He shall be the son of our leader, of course," Galacia declared. "He shall be raised by our great ruler, and trained to lead and protect the tribe. And when, a thousand years from now, he takes his father's place, we will know that we can trust him with our lives."
Frostbite absolutely beamed at that answer, his eyes glistening with hope, and pride, and joy.
Galacia grabbed Polaris with both hands and thrust him into the air like Simba in the lion king.
"I present to the tribe, Polaris, son of Frostbite, heir to the Realm of the Far Frozen."
The assembled yetis cheered as Frostbite took his new son into his arms with a thousand watt smile.
"I will take good care of you, my son," Frostbite promised.
The baby couldn't help smiling and giggling in the joyous atmosphere, but deep inside him was a heavy trepidation. He wondered if he would be able to hold onto his memories from his life before, as Danny, or if they would fade in time, replaced by his memories as Polaris. He wondered which he would prefer.
Would Sam, and Tucker, and his parents come to look for him? Was there even the slightest possibility of them recognizing him as he was now, if they were even able to find him? Would he be able to fit in with the other yetis if he'd once been human. Had any of the others been human like him, before becoming covered in white fur.
Frostbite held Polaris close against his fur and promised that everything would be fine, that he would always be safe and cared for, and Danny believed him. He believed that everything would be okay.
#danny phantom#dp#danny fenton#dp frostbite#yetis#lore#phic phight#phic phight 24#fic#things i wrote#fluff
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Feet on the Ground
loose phic phight fill for @oldfashionedbattlehymn
warnings for: murder attempt, discussion of child death
********
Danny wakes up in a garbage bag.
It isn’t as gross as it sounds. Danny’s the only thing in there, and it’s not like the lack of air is going to kill him; he could rip his way out, but honestly, going intangible is just as effective and twice as easy.
And, of course, once he’s phased his way out of the dumpster behind the gas station, Danny is very, very grateful that he didn’t even try. Everything else in there is….eeugh. He shivers.
Well. It’s got to be early morning now—it’s dark. There’s no other cars on the highway. Even the gas station itself is closed, and the stars have already lost their spark.
Time to head home.
*
Danny wakes up behind the gas station. Again.
…Okay?
The first time, Danny had just assumed he’d fallen asleep somewhere weird while flying around the neighborhood, but a second time is a pattern. It’s definitely not his fault this time either, because there’s no way he would have duct taped his arms and legs together or slapped a gag on his mouth.
That’s kind of. Ominous.
Danny frees himself of the garbage bag first— and thank goodness he doesn’t have to breathe— he floats himself out of the bag and the dumpster, which had…thankfully been given a good scrubbing since last time? There’s some other trash, apparently, but nothing sharp enough to cut through his durable, tape-based bonds. It takes some finagling and some eye lasers for Danny to finally get his arms free.
And. Hoo Boy. There’s no more liberating a feeling than peeling tape off your mouth, even if your mouth skin kind of comes off with it and you bleed a little. But it’s fine! It’s green, which means it’ll heal.
Fabulous. Danny zooms off invisibly into the night, more than willing to put the night behind him.
*
…Okay, the third time is what makes it more than a coincidence.
Danny shucks out of the bruise-tight ropes around his wrists, torso, knees, and legs, spits out his gag, and flies home. He finally has to give into the inevitable, and attempts the last resort:
“Jazz?” he whispers, slowly rocking his sister in her bed. Jazz mumbles in her sleep.
“Jaaaaazzy…” Danny tries again, trying not to look either too spooky or too imposing. Jazz’s reflexes are such that—
The laser she keeps under her pillow goes off. Danny loses a few millimeters of hair, which means that her aim is getting better.
He doesn’t have any trouble seeing in the dark (or, uh, not anymore, anyway), but it’s easy to see Jazz’s sleepy squint as she pulls herself somewhat upright. More like a shrimp with scoliosis, but, well. You know.
“Whuh,” Jazz asks. “...Danny?”
“Hey,” Danny whispers, a ghost at her bedside. Jazz grunts. “Uh. What does it mean when you keep waking up in a trash bag behind the gas station?”
Jazz blinks. Jazz rubs her eyes. Jazz blinks again, looking more sleepy than coherent but at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.
“Garbage bag?” Jazz asks blearily. “You were in a garbage bag?”
“Yeah,” Danny whispers back. “My legs were tied down?”
“...Danny, were you murdered?”
Danny stops.
“Huh?” says Danny.
*
“So, if you look here,” Tucker points out, finger not quite touching the glass of his CRT monitor, “That’s when Danny gets murdered.”
There is a collective eeew from the assembled viewers— Jazz, Sam, and Danny, all crowded in Tucker’s room.
“Yeah, Tucker agrees. The light from the black-and-white footage flashes in the reflection of his glasses. “Here’s where he’s tossed in…there. And this is when they tossed him in the dumpster.”
There’s no sound on the gas station surveillance footage, but Danny imagines that his body clanged on the way in. What the hell. Danny got murdered behind a gas station, and he didn’t even notice?!
They watch the archived footage of a Ford F-150 driving off the property, and then Danny’s dead body being unceremoniously tossed in a dumpster. It’s kind of surreal. No one had noticed. There was no one to report the crime committed.
“I can’t believe that guy just clocked you over the head, like that,” Sam points out. “It’s just a regular car jack. It shouldn’t have gotten you in the first place.”
The observation isn’t appreciated.
“Be nice! My brother was just murdered,” Jazz scolds. Danny doesn’t think she sounds as offended as she should be. “Either way, it’s certainly an attempted murder, if not a successful one. We have to do something.”
“…Can’t we just call the cops?” Tucker asks, turning away from the computer. “I mean. Look. That’s proof. We have proof right here.”
Sure enough, there is footage. Right there. There’s Danny’s murder, in 240p black and white.
“Where’s the body?” Sam asks dryly, and. Uh. That’s a problem they’ll have to solve.
Everyone looks at everyone else. No one has a good solution.
“…Do we have to do this?” Tucker realizes at the same second as the rest of them.
Jazz looks at Danny. Danny looks at Sam. Sam looks at Tucker.
Tucker stares back at them, entirely unenthused with the conclusion they’ve come to.
“…Okay then,” Jazz exhales. “How do you want to do this?”
*
Sam ends up on top of the gas station, a cell phone in her hand.
Tucker, PDA in hand, sits in Jazz’s passenger seat. The camera feed is ongoing and recording for posterity.
Jazz taps her fingers on the wheel of her car. There isn’t anywhere better to hide than down the road and around the corner, so she does, hoping that they’re on the other end of the road from whoever’s killing her brother every night.
Danny is, of course, wandering through the neighborhood.
Losing her baby brother—on purpose—is the worst thing Jazz can imagine. She feels sick. She wants to throw him into the car and speed away, and break every speed limit law in the county on her way out. She wants to pack him in bubble wrap and ship him expedited to France.
But she does leave her brother alone. She lets Tucker look over the footage as Danny roams around town, just as unaware and unsuspecting as his last few outings.
Tucker sees the man first.
He bolts upright, eyes on his PDA. “Jazz.”
Her head whips around. They watch, silently, as someone approaches Danny’s lone figure on the doorstep outside the gas station.
They can’t hear anything. That’s the scariest part.
“Call,” Jazz demands. Tucker does.
Doubtlessly, on the roof of the gas station, Sam is dialing too.
*
So. Danny knows this guy.
And. Uh. It’s kind of embarrassing; he’d asked if Danny was okay walking home alone at night a few hours before his dumpster wake-up call, and Danny had said it was fine.
Apparently, no, it wasn’t fine. That being said, Danny hadn’t been expecting a guy in a button-up and khakis to be the guy murdering him on the down low. He kind of looks like the dude who sells you televisions and burner phones at a Wal-Mart.
The guy comes all the way over to where Danny is sitting on the thin concrete step of the gas station. His breath fogs up from the weather and his eyes rake over Danny, up and down; down and up.
“Hey,” he says, looking all the world like any other concerned citizen. Danny’s heart throbs. “It’s cold outside. You need a ride back to town?”
“…No,” says Danny, who doesn’t.
“Your mom okay with you comin’ home late by yourself?” the man asks nervously, hands going to his hair.
Danny thinks about how many times he’s woken up in the dumpster. He thinks about seeing his own body on the camera tape. Prone. Dead.
“You still keep a car jack in your passenger seat?” Danny asks instead.
The man freezes. An attempted murderer he might be, but he’s not exactly an Oscar-winning actor. “What?”
“The car jack,” Danny repeats. He doesn’t know if he’s mad the man keeps targeting him, or whether he’s grateful Danny’s the only one who’s died so far. “It’s got a lot of sharp corners. They hurt, you know.”
The man…carefully laughs the statement off, but he looks. Nervous.
Danny doesn’t really need to confront him; he only has to stall long enough that Tucker or Sam can call the cops, so that they can see this man’s face and get him on the record. But.
There’s a part of Danny…
The man looks so human. Flush with blood. Solid enough to break. Fragile enough to be made broken.
Danny still resents being made dead. This man didn’t kill Danny—not in any way that mattered, but he’s an easy target.
He doesn’t breathe. The man watches a boy sit in the shadows of a building where he’s been dumping bodies, and Danny can taste his fear.
“It hurt a lot,” Danny says, and he isn’t referring to waking up in the bags every couple of mornings in the last few weeks. “It hurt so much. I was screaming.”
The man is silent.
“Do you like to hear the screaming?” Danny asks, suddenly curious. Did he care, if Danny had screamed, or if he had been too unaware to notice he was dying? Would he have cared, if there were others more breakable than Danny that he had hurt?
He doesn’t answer.
“I don’t like it,” Danny confesses. In a horrible way, it’s easy to tell his would-be murderer about his death—unlike Tucker or Sam, who witnessed it, or Jazz, who loves him, this man can’t be affected by Danny’s take on his own death. In fact, if he is hurt by the thought of Danny’s death…good. It’s better if he is. If there is remorse in him. “I don’t like to hear screaming. I screamed for so long, and so loud. It felt like forever.”
The man’s hands curl. He steps back.
Danny can’t help but to frown. If he leaves, the whole point of calling the cops will be for nothing, and he’ll be warier of coming back to where Danny’s body was dropped. “Where are you going?”
The man takes another step back. Danny rockets upright. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Weren’t you here for me?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, arms outstretched. “We’re here. You dumped me here over and over again.”
“Shut up,” the man snaps, startling the both of them with his volume. “He—you’re not real. You’re… Be quiet. I have real things to get done tonight!”
Danny’s dead heart throbs. Is there another dead kid? Did Danny let another kid get killed in Danny’s place? “Do you?”
The man loses his voice.
“We’re already here,” Danny points out. He steps closer—closer to the truck that drove his dead body around town, further from the dumpster where his body had been dropped. The disposal hadn’t been a funeral, but it’s closer than anything Danny’s ever had. “You’re here. I’m here. Aren’t you here for me?”
A choked breath. Danny gets closer. The ectoplasm in his skin is too warm and too cold—but he has no idea what he looks like from the outside. Is he glowing? Is he see-through? Does he just look like any other dead kid: a little too cold, a little too pale?
They’re eye to increasingly shorter eye. Up close, the man just looks like any other guy. Shaved in the face. Wrinkles around his eyes. A nose. A mouth.
Danny’s not afraid of him. His head tilts. “You’ve already killed me three times. What are you going to do now? I’ll just come back again. I won’t even notice. I died. I know what you look like—I know how to find you. It’ll be easy.”
The man’s pupils dilate—
And then there’re hands on Danny’s neck. And. It’s kind of painful, but Danny doesn’t have to breathe. So. He just kind of…pretends to be hurt?
He’s meant to be stalling for time. The cops are coming. All he needs is time.
So Danny makes some somewhat dramatic sounds and kicks out with his feet, because a fight lasts longer than a passive victim. He lands a hit to the man’s stomach, and another to his chest—he doesn’t drop Danny the way Danny might have expected, but Danny isn’t going to run out of air, so this can last forever until the man lets go. Or does something.
“Stop— coming— back,” the man snarls, and suddenly sounds nothing like the dudes who man the tech counter at the Walmart. “I got you— you should be gone!”
Danny is gone. But he’s also here. And he’s also been gone for a very long time, and he’s also getting choked out by a guy in a gas station parking lot. It’s been a rough few hours of waiting for this dude. He might as well make it worth it.
So maybe his body turns a little translucent. Just a little. Just enough to see the streetlight through his skin, probably, and the hazy road behind them.
Getting thrown to the concrete hurts, but, you know, not as badly as getting tossed into a wall by Skulker on a rampage. Danny’s barely going to be bruised after this.
The guy runs to his car, and Danny frowns, scrambling back up, and, wait. Wouldn’t having bruises be better? As evidence? They better not heal too quickly, or else that’ll be it of his physical proof.
“Where are you going?” Danny asks, more perplexed and angry than anything. Isn’t he supposed to try to kill the witness??
But the guy hauls butt into the cab of his truck— and then the lights go on and the tires start spinning, the engine roaring to life.
If Danny wasn’t actively on camera at the moment, it would be easy to fly after the car. As it is, he’s pretty fast, but he’s not quite quick enough on his feet to chase after a pickup truck careening down the highway in the dark.
The man’s gone in a few seconds. Honestly, Danny’s kind of annoyed about the whole thing. It would have been nice for it to work.
Sam climbs down from the roof of the gas station, phone in her hand. “No, I just— he choked out my friend and drove off! Send someone over here already!! You— do you need the license plate again?!”
Danny just looks at her. Sam covers her phone’s mic with a hand: “They’re saying five minutes,” she mouths.
Great.
Danny hunkers down, throat bruising, and Sam sits down beside him. They wait.
By the time the cops pull into the gas station, the guy’s more than out of sight. Sam’s the one who takes the lead on dictating their story. Danny sort of doesn’t realize how out of it he is until someone tries to throw a shock blanket on him. He almost hits the guy square in the face— and Sam’s the one who has to catch his arm.
Uh. Oops.
Jazz and Tucker roll in, hardly pretending to have not been nearby; Jazz wraps her arms around him, and Danny lets her.
Sue him. It’s late. He’s tired.
“...And I can’t believe you weren’t able to get down the road in time to catch a man who choked out my best friend,” Sam snaps, which, aw! Danny’s a best friend. The cop she’s attempting to strip down for parts looks less sympathetic than Danny feels. “You’re barely a ten minute drive up the highway! What were you doing, meandering?”
“No,” the cop grits out, eying Sam like a bug on his shoe. “We were telling the officer down the road what to look out for.”
Apparently, jamming the gas down hard enough to bust your speedometer gets you pulled over at the speed check.
The night is over before Danny knows it. Someone gets him to the station, someone takes photos of his bruises and takes his statement. Someone calls Mom and Dad and then Danny’s in the GAV, half asleep and exhausted beyond belief.
He falls asleep on the couch, Mom’s fingers in his hair.
*
It’s not like the Amity Park police tell them anything, but Jazz is the one who finds the report on the news.
She records it on the TiVo for him.
“Eustace Miller, from Tennessee,” Sam reads aloud, knee to knee on his couch. Tucker adjusts his glasses. “Looks like he was already on the run.”
“Or as good as,” Tucker agrees quietly. “Looks like they’re pinning a couple of cold cases to him.”
They watch; there’s pictures of him from his hometown, and from the towns he would visit on his joyride across the country. There were pictures of his family. There were pictures of kids Danny would never meet: kids who were already dead, and who had been for months. Years, even.
They’d looked so happy in the photos from when they were alive.
…Danny could relate.
Jazz turns the report off that night, thumb on the power button. And that’s all it takes for Danny to stop waking up in a trash bag.
#phic phight 2024#tw murder#tw child murder#tw death#I think that covers it???#wait#tw choking#there we go#Danny works out some of his feelings about dying young#danny phantom#phic phight#this is very quickly being edited and posted on lunch break please bear w/ me#faer fic#sam manson#tucker foley#jazz fenton
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Easier When Unknown
Summary: Danny could have imagined his life would be interesting after everyone learned his secret, but he didn't think it would be this different.
Author's Note: A phic phight fanfiction! Here are the two prompts:
AU where no one knew Danny was Phantom until PP (or some alternate big reveal of the author's choice). Sam and Tucker are sure that a famous hero like Danny Phantom is too cool to be their friend again, especially since they haven't talked since before freshman year of high school. Danny just wants to be part of the trio again and has no idea how to ask.
Danny finds out that Sam's been being bullied at school and has been hiding it from him and Tucker out of embarrassment.
...
Danny’s life definitely didn’t get easier after his identity was revealed, but it didn’t get that much harder, which was good. Right?
Or, well, that was a little bit of an oversimplification. His life definitely got harder in a lot of ways. People stared at him wherever he went. Suddenly all of the popular kids at school wanted to be best friends with him, like he couldn’t see through that change of pace from a mile away. There were news stations constantly vying for the first interview with the half-ghost kid who defeated the Ghost King.
But his parents stopped hunting him. And they were going to try to work things out. And Jazz revealed that she’d actually known for a while now, and that made her more ready to adapt to everything, and she didn’t treat him like anything had changed.
And all of that kind of evened it out, at the end of the day. Even if he wasn’t exactly sure he was ready to go from town’s enemy to world’s hero.
Because that was another part of this: word of Amity Park, ghosts in general, and what he’d done had been spreading like wildfire since he’d put Pariah Dark back in his coffin. Suddenly everyone was talking about him, and everyone knew him, and, as stated with the aforementioned journalists, everyone wanted to talk to him. He woke up every day to see news trucks that were local and ones that were very much not right outside his house. He’d flown intangibly to school every day for the past month.
Ancients, all this fame needed to die down soon. He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.
He was often so caught up in everything changing all at once, however, that he didn’t have much of a chance to think about things he might want to happen. Which was why he was a little caught off guard that morning. He was running from the daily mob of screaming girls who wanted his autograph (which was never something he thought he’d get sick of), and after getting at least a little bit of a lead on them, he turned intangible and dove through the door to the janitor’s closet, then turned back to normal and rested his hands on his knees, panting slightly to catch his breath.
“Uh,” came a very familiar female voice, and Danny’s head shot up. He found standing on the other side of the closet the one part of his life that hadn’t changed.
And for a long, long moment, he and Sam and Tucker just stared at each other.
Danny’s feelings about Sam and Tucker had never been more mixed. They really were the one aspect of his life that stayed the same post identity-reveal-to-the-entire-world, and he couldn’t decide whether to thank them for the consistency or be pissed at them for the audacity.
Because he hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.
And then his secret was revealed to the entire world.
And he still hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.
“Uh,” Danny said finally, because they couldn’t just all keep staring at each other. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Tucker said. Sam nodded in acknowledgement.
Really, guys. Work with him a little bit, please?
“Are you hiding from people too?” Danny asked, pushing himself up using his knees.
“Yeah,” Sam said.
“I didn’t think you’d be hiding from anyone anymore,” Tucker said, and Danny didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in his voice.
“Um,” Danny said. He didn’t seem to have any more words for Sam and Tucker than he had a year and a half ago.
“Danny!” came from outside the closet, and Danny whirled around instinctually. “Get back here! What makes you think you can run from me?”
“Hey you mind if I hang out here for a bit cool thanks,” Danny said, moving across the closet until he was right across from Sam and Tucker. A second later, the door handle started jiggling, and Danny turned intangible, even though he could feel Sam and Tucker’s stares.
The door swung open and Paulina poked her head in.
“Oh, it’s just you two,” she said, disappointment obvious in her voice. A second later, she perked up. “Hey, you haven’t seen Danny, have you?”
“No,” Sam said, crossing her arms. “Would you back off? We’re trying to hide in a closet here.”
Paulina laughed. “Sure, okay. Have fun, losers.” She slammed the door after herself.
Danny dropped the intangibility as soon as she was gone with a sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he said to Sam and Tucker.
“Don’t mention it,” Sam grumbled, and leaned back against the shelf behind her. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to see her, though.”
“Honestly, yeah,” Tucker agreed, giving him a weird look. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d turn down Paulina.”
“It’s not that,” Danny said. “I mean she… she’s not…”
The warning bell rang, and all three of them looked towards the door, where they could hear it outside. For a second afterwards, none of them moved.
Sam did first, pushing herself off the shelf. “Bye,” she said, starting towards the door. Tucker followed her closely.
Danny tried not to make his deflation obvious. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered. He turned intangible again, and slipped through the floor, rather than try and go past them.
It was only when he actually made it to his homeroom that he realized he still had no idea why Sam and Tucker were in that closet.
…
“Hey, Fenturd— I mean Fenton!”
Danny heaved an internal sigh and looked up from his tray of food to find Dash and Kwan walking up to his table.
“Are these seats taken?” Dash asked with a grin, gesturing at the as-of-yet empty table around him. He’d gotten to lunch early in order to try and hang on to one.
“Yeah,” Danny said to Dash, leaning over to rest his chin on his hand in what was intended to be a representation of how little he wanted them here. “I’m holding it for all of the ghosts that are going to show up during lunch and blast you across the room.”
“Ha, you’re a riot Fenton!” Dash said, completely ignoring Danny’s tone and face and sliding into the seat next to him. Danny cringed and didn’t bother to hide it, sliding as far away from Dash as he could. Unfortunately, Dash just slid right down after him, which resulted in Danny nearly being pushed off the bench and Dash not noticing.
Kwan followed his lead and took the seat across from Danny, meaning Danny was forced to look in boredom to the side to avoid both of their gazes. He waited a couple extra seconds, but eventually it became clear that neither of them were going to move. So, Danny sighed, resigned himself to his life, and picked up one of his terrible school-lunch chicken nuggets.
“So, we were both thinking that maybe you could come watch one of our practices!” Dash called, slinging an arm around Danny’s shoulder. “The football team’s, I mean.”
“Why would I do that?” Danny asked, making his shoulder go intangible just long enough for Dash’s arm to fall through.
“Well I mean, it would be neat to have you there,” Dash said, glancing across the table at Kwan. “Right Kwan?”
“Totally,” Kwan agreed with a grin of his own. “And I mean, you’re pretty good with athletic stuff. You know, when you’re a cool ghost fighting superhero and not a weak dweeb. Maybe you could come as Phantom, you know, show us some tricks!”
“Gee, that sounds great,” Danny deadpanned. “So am I just supposed to ignore the insults in there, or…?”
“Hey,” came Paulina’s voice, and Danny turned around to see her walking up behind them all. “Can’t you two leave him alone? It’s clear he doesn’t want to be bothered by you.”
Danny blinked in surprise. He really hadn’t expected Paulina to pick up on that. Maybe she actually—
“He’d clearly rather be sitting with me!” Paulina said, reaching down and pulling Danny up by his arm.
“Okay, that’s it!” Danny went intangible again and slipped out of Paulina’s grasp, then grabbed his lunch and walked out of the room, straight through the doors without bothering to open them.
He made his way out to the front steps of the school and sat down, and managed to get through at least a couple bites before he remembered the reason eating outside was also a bad idea. The reminder came in the form of a reporter and a camera man leaping out from what he thought was a normal van sitting across the street.
“Mr Fenton!” called one of them as he ran up towards the steps. “Or would you prefer Mr Phantom?”
“I’d prefer solitude,” Danny snapped, leaning back and away from them both.
“Oh absolutely! Just a couple of quick questions first of course, you wouldn’t mind.”
The door slammed open behind them, and Danny prepared himself for Dash or Paulina again when, to his surprise, Mr Lancer stepped down the steps and stopped right in front of him.
“You’re on school property,” he said, crossing his arms. “You have two minutes to get back in your van and drive away or I am calling the police.”
“Sir, can I ask, how long have you known that one of your students is dead?” the reporter asked, shoving a mic in Lancer’s face.
Lancer raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone, then started dialing 911. Thankfully, the reporters turned and ran back across the street before he could finish.
Lancer turned back around as soon as they were gone. “Are you alright?” he asked, casting a concerned look down at Danny.
“Fine,” Danny muttered, picking up his tray and climbing to his feet. “You know. Great.”
Lancer looked at him for another second, then said, “Mr Fenton, come and eat your lunch in my classroom.”
“What? Why?”
“You can sit out of view from my door,” Lancer said. “It’ll give you a break from the crowds.”
Danny felt a knot in his chest loosen. “Really?”
Lancer gave him a sympathetic frown. “I can’t imagine it’s an easy thing to deal with all the time,” he said. He opened the door again and gestured for Danny to go first, so he did.
And for the first time in a while, he ate his lunch in silence.
…
He wasn’t expecting to see Sam and Tucker again that day. Most of the time his time at school was spent avoiding every single person he possibly could. The morning incident in the janitor’s closet had been a once in a blue moon event.
But, as fate would have it, there was a ghost attack during the last period, and after going and taking care of it (just the Box Ghost showing up as an irritation), he landed behind the school to find Sam and Tucker leaning against the wall and talking.
And while he’d originally come back here to try and avoid all of the cheers he’d get going right back into class, he was sort of regretting that decision now.
Sam and Tucker were clearly deep in conversation, but they noticed when he landed right in front of them, and then they all got to do a lovely repeat of that morning’s staring at each other.
“Hiding again?” Tucker asked eventually.
Danny nodded. “You too?”
Sam nodded.
Danny gave them a curious look. “From what?”
“Danny!”
Danny groaned audibly this time, as Star ran around the side of the building and straight for him.
“That was so cool the way you just flew off like that!” she called. “Not a second thought to how you might be putting yourself in danger!”
“Yeah, thanks,” Danny said, already starting to fly away. “Make my excuses in class, will you? Got to get this really dangerous ghost back to the portal right away and send him through to the ghost zone. Great thanks bye!”
He flew off maybe a little bit too quickly for the given situation, but he couldn’t stand another second there, and school was basically over anyway. He made it home pretty quickly, and thankfully wasn’t stopped by any news outlets on the way, though that was likely because he made the whole trip while intangible.
But while he made it inside without any fuss, as soon as he flew down to the lab he was greeted with his parents working on what looked like a weapon of some kind.
He winced. He was never quite able to stop the touch of fear that came with his parents working on a ghost weapon. After a second, though, he floated down to the ground anyway and changed back from his ghost form.
Both his parents startled and looked over at him.
“Danny,” his mom said. “You’re back early.”
“Yeah uh, ghost fight in last period,” Danny muttered, heading over towards the portal and attaching the thermos to it. “School was already basically over, so I just came home.” He hit the button on the side of the portal and sent the Box Ghost flying into the portal, crying out dramatically all the way.
“Well that’s nice,” Mom said, the tension in her voice obvious.
“Yeah, uh, anyway I have homework,” Danny said, starting for the steps. He had a feeling flying up through the ceiling wouldn’t be a great idea right now.
“Will we see you for dinner, Danno?” Dad asked. “We were hoping to all eat together tonight.”
Danny tightened his grip on the railing of the stairs. “Okay.”
He considered asking what they’d be having, but given the tension in the room he really didn’t think he could spend much more time in the lab.
So instead, he just said “See you later,” and headed upstairs.
It’s not that his parents had reacted badly to the Phantom news. They’d done the important stuff, they’d given him a huge apology and stopped actively hunting him. But none of them seemed to really know where they stood with each other anymore. Danny didn’t logically think they were going to hurt him anymore, but it was difficult to get rid of that fear response that for the longest time, it made sense to have.
But at the same time, he could tell it made them feel guilty to see him be scared of them. Jazz said it wasn’t his fault, and she was probably right. But he still hated it.
He started first for his bedroom, and made it part of the way through the living room when the front door opened and Jazz sprinted in, slamming the door shut on nearly a dozen reporters. Danny could still hear their voice through the door after it shut. Some were asking how it felt to be the brother of a hero, some were asking how long she’d known and how she’d found out, and some were asking how it felt to know her brother was dead.
Jazz heaved out a breath, though all of the reporters were still easily heard through the windows. Then she looked up and met eyes with Danny.
“Oh hey,” she said, clearly still exhausted. “How was school?”
Danny didn’t respond, instead gazing out the gap in the curtains to the people shoving cameras in it.
“Sorry,” he said to Jazz.
“Oh, don’t you dare,” Jazz said. “I know you hate them as much as I do.”
Danny sighed and looked down. “Yeah.”
“Are you doing okay?” Jazz asked hesitantly. “I’m sure it’s… a lot.”
Danny snorted. “Understatement.”
Jazz smiled a little. “Yeah.”
Danny turned to face her more directly, chewing on his lip. He’d avoided the topic with her so far, mostly because too much was going on, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been desperately curious. “Can I…” he said hesitantly. “Can I be like one of those awful reporters and ask you how you found out?”
Jazz rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not a reporter, you’re my brother. And I know if I tell you it’s not going to end up on the 5:00 news.”
She paused, and turned and glanced out the windows for a moment. “You want to go upstairs, though?”
“Yes,” Danny said immediately.
So they both ended up in Jazz’s room, sitting next to each other on her bed, with the curtains drawn tight in case the helicopters came back.
“I found out during the Spectra thing,” Jazz started. “I spotted you transforming.”
Danny nodded, thinking about that. “Okay,” he said quietly. “And… why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted to wait until you wanted to tell me,” Jazz said. She sighed, and glanced towards the windows. “I guess that didn’t really work out.”
“No,” Danny muttered. “But… I appreciate the sentiment.”
Jazz turned to look at him, concerned. “Are you doing okay? I mean, obviously not, just… you know.”
“Oh no, I’m fine,” Danny said, rolling his eyes. “I always hoped that everyone would learn my secret in the aftermath of an exhausting battle when I was definitely not prepared for them to learn, and then I’d be hounded by literally everyone who suddenly feels entitled to my attention and my time. Dream come true, this is.”
“I’m really sorry it turned out this way,” Jazz said quietly.
Danny sighed. “Me too.”
“Is there anything I could do to be helpful?” Jazz asked.
“Do you know if anyone’s figured out time travel yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Dammit.”
There was a moment of silence, and Jazz said, “I mean it.”
Danny shook his head. “There’s nothing you could do that you aren’t already doing,” he said. “You’re not looking at me different. Like your entire worldview’s been flipped on its head. Which, I mean I guess for a lot of people it has, but… still. It’s nice that you’re not.”
Jazz was quiet for a moment, and then she reached over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. And despite how totally lame it was to hug his sister, Danny did the same back.
“Still, if you want me to stand in between you and anyone, just let me know,” Jazz said.
“I wouldn’t ask you do that,” Danny said, pulling back, though he was smiling a little. “I can just fly away from the news vans, and go intangible to get away from the helicopters. And Lancer already gave me permission to hide in his office during school hours if I ever need to.”
“Good,” Jazz said with a nod. She paused for a second, and Danny got the feeling she was about to ask something delicate. He was proven right when a second later she said, “And what about Sam and Tucker?”
“What about them?” Danny said, glaring away. “We’ve said about ten words to each other since everything happened. And about half of them are ‘um.’”
…Okay, so maybe he’s a little more bitter than he realized. He sighed.
“I can’t expect everything to suddenly change,” he said, turning back to Jazz. “Our falling out had nothing to do with Phantom.”
Or, it technically did. Their falling out had been because he constantly ditched them and left mid-way through hangouts. Because he was Phantom, and had to go fight whatever ghost had shown up. But they didn’t know that at the time. And it had been over a year since they’d talked. They had probably moved on.
“You should still talk to them,” Jazz said. “And I mean really talk to them.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t see much of an opportunity for that in between getting interrupted every ten seconds, either by classmates or reporters,” Danny said. He paused, and turned to look at Jazz as a realization struck him. “Hey, how are you doing with all that, by the way? It doesn’t look like the reporters are leaving you alone.”
“They’re definitely not,” Jazz said. “But I can handle myself. Besides, they tend to leave me alone as soon as they see you.”
Danny smiled a bit. “Glad I can take that off your shoulders for you.”
“Oh yeah, if anything you owe me,” Jazz said with a smile. “After everything I did for you?”
“I think I’ve saved your life three times now.”
“Do my dishes for a month and we’re even.”
Danny snorted. “Sure, you got it.” He took a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had when he got home.
“Hey, thanks, Jazz,” he said, looking over at her. “You’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”
“Anytime,” Jazz said, smiling warmly at him. “I mean it.”
…
The next day didn’t start much better, with flying invisibly to school and hiding in various places until first period starts, but Danny found himself in a better mood despite it. Talking with Jazz had helped, and knowing he’d have a quiet place to eat lunch helped too.
He still didn’t love being swarmed in the halls on his way to his first period after the warning bell rang, though. Maybe he could use his well-established reputation for being late for everything and just hide until the halls were empty between classes.
…Or would that not work anymore because everyone knew the reason?
Well, he’d give it a shot anyway.
First period was uneventful, thankfully, aside from everyone spending the period staring at him while he was trying to focus, which was nothing new. He could tell it was irritating both him and the teacher, however, because eventually he set his chalk down from writing math equations on the board.
“Anyone who doesn’t stop staring at Mr Fenton loses an entire letter grade on the next test,” he snapped. “This is school, this is not your free time. Mr Fenton, thank you for at least trying to pay attention.”
“Anytime,” Danny deadpanned, because he wasn’t about to turn down a compliment from a teacher, and he really was trying.
Apparently the threat of losing a letter grade was only enough to sway a couple students, though, likely the ones who hadn’t entirely given up on their grades like he had.
(Although maybe the administration would go easier on him now…?)
Either way, he managed to get at least some of the notes down by the end of the class, and going up to the teacher to ask if there was anything else he absolutely needed to have written down seemed to put him on his better side. Being a teacher’s favorite was also something he wasn’t used to.
And as a second bonus, staying behind and finishing the notes resulted in a late pass, meaning he could wait until everyone had filed out of the hallway.
Or at least, he thought that’s what he was doing.
Instead, as he turned a corner towards his next period, he stumbled across Dash shoving someone inside a locker. And instead of adding him to the bunch like he used to, when Dash spotting him he brightened.
“Fenton! You want to help me stuff these losers in here?”
“Not really,” Danny said, starting over towards them to help out whoever he was bullying. “You know, if you’re really trying to get on my good side, you might try—” he stopped as he reached the locker.
Well, apparently Dash really didn’t care about getting on his good side, because staring back out at him were Sam and Tucker.
“Uh, hey Danny,” Tucker said, waving at him from inside the locker.
Danny turned back to Dash, raising an eyebrow in what hopefully came across as “are you fucking kidding me.”
“Aw, come on, you’re not trying to say you still care about these losers,” Dash said, like the very idea was ridiculous. “You can hang out with anyone you want now! By the way, you’re still coming to football practice later, right?”
“Probably not,” Danny snapped. He held a hand out to Tucker, who grabbed it. Danny turned him intangible and pulled Tucker out until he could stand on the floor.
Tucker looked a little off balance after he let go, but Sam still grabbed his hand when he offered the same to her.
“Okay,” Tucker said as Danny set Sam down. “A little warning next time maybe?”
“Sorry,” Danny said. He glared back over at Dash. “Beat it.”
“Aw come on Fenton, you know I didn’t mean anything by it, I just—”
“Beat it or I tell everyone about that time you wet your pants after I saved your life from the Box Ghost.”
Dash went pale, and then quickly left.
“Wait,” Sam said. “Really?”
Danny snorted. “Oh yeah,” he said, turning back to face them. “I could tell you stories about what Dash is like when he’s in danger.” He paused, looking at them both in concern. “Are you guys okay?”
Sam glared away, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she muttered, a note in her voice that Danny couldn’t read.
“Thanks for the help,” Tucker said. And then they both turned around, clearly about to leave.
“Wait!” Danny yelled after them. “I— please.”
They both turned hesitantly back around.
“We’re late for class,” Sam said.
“I’ll tell them you got caught up in a ghost attack,” Danny said. “Just, please can we talk? Just once, and then we can be done. Okay?”
They both exchanged a glance, and seemed to say something to each other with their eyes that Danny couldn’t read anymore.
Finally, they turned back to face him, and they both nodded.
“Where?” Tucker asked.
Well, eventually the bell was going to ring, and then the hall would flood with people who wouldn’t leave them alone. And if they went outside, they’d be met with a similar problem, just with the news crews instead of students. And if they were going to pretend a ghost attack happened, they should probably go somewhere to make it at least a little more believable.
“How do you feel about the roof?” Danny asked.
“Uh,” Tucker said. “Have you been there?”
Danny nodded. “It’s… quiet. Sometimes.”
They were both quiet for another moment, then Sam nodded. “Okay.”
Danny started over to them, glanced at Tucker and said, “This is your warning,” and then grabbed them both by the arms, transformed, and flew them all up through the ceiling and onto the roof.
Tucker stumbled a little as Danny let go of him. “Okay,” he said. “Needed a different kind of warning there.”
Danny smiled a little bit. “Be glad you’ve never fallen through the floor in your sleep.”
“That’s not really something I’ve ever thought would happen to me,” Tucker said.
“Tell me about it.”
There’s a couple seconds of silence, and Tucker and Sam exchanged another glance.
Finally, Sam turned back to him and crossed her arms. “So,” she said. “You’re Phantom.”
Danny sighed. “Yeah.”
“Can I ask…” Tucker started. “I mean what— like how did you become— it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he added quickly, holding up his hands. “You don’t have to.”
Danny looked at him for a second. It was definitely the same question he was sick of getting from other classmates and the reporters. But Tucker at least had given him an out. And if this really was going to be the last time they talked, he wanted them to know everything.
“You remember the portal in my parent’s lab?” he asked. “How I told you it just started working one day?”
Tucker nodded.
“That’s… not actually true. I turned it on. From… from inside.”
Tucker’s eyes widened. “Dude.”
Danny gave a short laugh. “Yeah.”
“What happened with the ghost fighting?” Sam asked. “I mean did you get pulled into that, or…?”
“What? No,” Danny said. “I mean, kind of, sure, but someone had to do it. I wasn’t going to let people get hurt.”
“But— you got hurt,” Sam said, gesturing at him. “All the time. We talked about it around you. Back when— when we were still talking.”
Danny shrugged. “I can take it. Normal humans can’t.”
The phrasing seemed to throw them off, which was fair, but he didn’t take it back. He wasn’t a normal human anymore.
“Still,” Sam said finally. “You should have told us. We could have helped you.”
Danny’s shoulders slumped. “I know,” he muttered. “I— I really didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“On the news?” Tucker asked. “Along with everyone else? Like we weren’t any different from them?”
Danny winced. “Yeah.”
A pause.
“If I knew everyone was going to find out, I would have told you first,” he added. “For what it’s worth.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked.
“It just… it felt so big,” Danny said, shaking his head. “And I didn’t know how you’d react. And… I’m sorry.”
Neither of them said anything for a minute. Danny wasn’t sure what exactly they were waiting for, but eventually he had to help fill the silence.
“How long has Dash been bothering you?” he asked.
Both of them immediately looked away.
“Oh, come on. You can’t make this conversation entirely about me.”
“We can’t?” Sam asked raising an eyebrow.
“No. That’s not fair to me or you.”
Sam glared away again.
“Pretty much since everyone found out,” Tucker said a second later. “I guess he figured he couldn’t mess with you anymore so he moved on to easier targets.”
Danny clenched his fists. “Asshole. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Tucker said.
“No, I just mean,” Danny gestured vaguely with his hands, not sure what he meant. “God, I’m so sick of him. Of all of them.”
Tucker gave him a look. “You really don’t like all the praise?”
Danny shrugged. “I dunno. I guess it beats being hunted.”
Tucker and Sam were both silent for a minute. Danny looked at them for a second and saw slight horror on their faces.
Oh. Maybe they hadn’t quite realized that part yet.
“You could have told me about Dash, you know,” Danny said, trying to stop them from thinking too much about that. “I would have helped.”
“We… kind of didn’t think you’d care,” Tucker said hesitantly.
Danny blinked. “What?” he asked.
“I mean, you are kind of a big deal now,” Sam said, gesturing at him.
Danny crossed his arms. “I’m sorry? Did you miss the part where I didn’t want to be?”
“No, I just mean—” Sam started.
“Yeah, I should go hang out with Dash, huh? Or start dating Paulina? Wouldn’t that be just great?”
Sam blinked at him. “Would it not?”
“Of course not,” Danny snapped. “None of them actually give a shit about me. They all just think it’ll get them something if they’re best friends with Phantom. They still don’t like Danny. I don’t want to be friends with people who only ever see one side of me. That—” he looked away. “That already didn’t work.”
“Oh,” Sam said quietly. “Sorry.”
Danny sighed. “It’s okay,” he muttered.
There was another long stretch of silence.
“That wasn’t the only reason, you know,” Sam said.
Danny looked up at her. “What wasn’t?”
“That we didn’t tell you. Or— I guess I can’t speak for Tucker. But it was just kind of embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?”
“I meant it when I said I noticed you were getting hurt all the time,” Sam said, looking down at the ground. “You’re fighting actual ghosts, and I’m supposed to come up to you and say ‘hey Dash is being mean to me?’”
Danny stared at her. “Sam,” he said. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would have put the ghosts on hold.”
“I don’t want to call you for backup every time I need help,” Sam snapped. “You’re not like— my bodyguard. Even if we had spoken in the last year.”
“Well, I appreciate the sentiment,” Danny said, because he did. “But you— I hate it when you guys are hurt.”
“We hate it when you’re hurt too,” Tucker said, looking pointedly at him. “It’s why we didn’t exactly love it when you pushed away while you were so obviously dealing with something.”
Danny winced. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” Tucker said. And then all of them stood there, none of them saying anything.
Tucker broke the silence again, this time with a sigh. “But for what it’s worth?” he said. “Thanks for saving everyone all the time. And for recently, with that weird ghost king guy.”
Danny nodded. “Anytime,” he said. He didn’t have to tell them the part about how he thought he was going to die. Again.
“And, you know, for what it’s worth?” he said instead. “Thanks for trying. While I was being an idiot. Sorry I didn’t let you help me.”
“How about this,” Tucker said. “We’ll be there to help you as Danny and Phantom if you kick Dash across the football field once or twice.”
Danny blinked, confused. “Huh?”
“That sound good to you, Sam?” Tucker asked, glancing at her.
“Yeah, I wanna see that,” Sam said with a nod. “And I’d like to learn how to kick some ghost butt.” She smirked over at Danny. “Maybe I’ll start with yours.”
“Wait, I thought,” Danny said, looking back and forth between them both. “I thought we said we’d be done after this.”
“Are you kidding? You think you’re getting rid of us again?” Sam asked. “Now that we finally know what’s been going on with you?”
“Sorry, you’re stuck with us this time,” Tucker said, crossing his arms with a grin. “Like we’re gonna let your total loser half go unacknowledged. You can’t be Phantom all the time. Sometimes you have to get teased for how much you like NASA.”
“Or get your butt kicked in Doomed,” Sam chimed in. She raised an eyebrow. “Sound good?”
Danny didn’t try to hide his smile at all, and instead he closed the space between the three of them and wrapped his arms around Sam and Tucker in a hug.
“That sounds great,” he said, meaning every word.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#jazz fenton#dash baxter#maddie fenton#jack fenton#phic phight#my fic
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Chapter 1: Beginning of an End
For @sheabeeprime and @uniasus for this year's @phicphight !
===
The thing about Fenton is that he’s not…..subtle.
Star thinks about this as she watches him struggle with his locker. Kwan’s just about to offer to help—she can see it in her peripherals—before Fenton groans, looks left and right (completely missing them loitering across the hall directly behind him) and sticks his hand into the locker.
He’s fiddling around with the lock, trying to unlock it, instead of doing the completely reasonable thing and just. Grabbing the thing he wanted to grab. Why bother with the lock at all if he’s just gonna stick his hand in anyway?
She and Kwan share a look at that. Kwan scratches the back of his head, looking around to see if anybody else could tell him what to do, before settling on her pleadingly.
She sighs, shaking her head and closing her eyes against the headache that she feels coming on. It’s Senior Year. You’d think after 3 years, Fenton would get better at hiding, not worse.
But then again…it did take the majority of Casper High a year to even realize something was wrong with the boy.
She thinks about that, before correcting herself. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just….not all right either. She shakes her head, walking off to the nearest classroom door. It’s early in the morning so the halls are still relatively empty. Star and Kwan are only here because of morning practice.
She wonders, idly, why Fenton is so early. He’s usually late, but then again the ghosts have been getting better about leaving him alone these days. Fenton’s lost those wretched eye-bags he kept carrying around like Paulina and her prada bags.
She opens the door softly, placing Kwan in front of her and placing her hand on his broad back, as if pushing him out. She slams the door behind her, pushing Kwan who blessedly goes with it.
“Star! What’s the rush?” Fenton jumps, yanking his hand out and inadvertently tripping the locker open.
“We’re gonna be late to practice.” She says, primly.
“Alright alright, oh, hey Fentino.” Kwan chuckles, as they pass by Danny.
He flinches, picking up the books that spilled out. “Hey, Kwan. Star.”
He starts pulling at his sleeves, always long sleeved nowadays, but no sleeve is long enough to cover the scars that litter his wrists and fists. She gives him a sweet smile, staunchly ignoring the way his answering nervous smile has too many teeth.
“Morning Danny. See you later.” She stops pushing at Kwan to pull up beside him. He takes her hand, squeezing it gently as they make their way down the hall. Just before they turn the corner she sees Danny stare at his hand in fear. He flexes it, and she notices that it has claws, before they disappear and he breathes out a shakey sigh.
“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Kwan says softly. She looks up at him, and his sad far away stare.
She doesn’t want to answer–doesn’t want to face the truth of it. But this is Kwan.
“Yes.” Of all the A-listers, she’s the only one that seems to be on neutral terms with Danny, and the only one who see exactly how many times it’s been a close call.
His hand squeezes hers, and the rest of the walk to practice is deathly silent. Because what can you say to that? Nothing.
She squeezes back.
#there are more prompts that will be involved with this#but they're kind of spoilers#danny phantom#my writing#danny fenton#phic phight#phic phight 2024
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Sorry for the wait but the sign-up form for 2024 Phic Phight is now open! You have until March 27th to sign up!
What is Phic Phight?
Phic Phight is a Danny Phantom fan-fiction writing competition, were writers are asked to provide prompts. Then they are split into two teams; team ghost and team human. The teams are given prompts from the opposite team and gain points for creating fics based on the prompts. The winner gains bragging rights for the year. This was created as a friendly competition to inspire new ideas and stories for the phandom.
Phic Phight begins April 1st and ends April 30th.
You will be required to join the new Phic Phight discord server to participate.
A full list of rules can be found HERE
No OC prompts are allowed. And no crossover prompts are allowed.
Please tag works as #phicphight24
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Okay
Based on the prompts "Lancer is a good teacher and cares" and "Well, shit. He can't change back!"
For @majorastudios and @lexosaurus
Word count: 9,563
Warnings: panic attacks, child neglect (more implied)
AO3 Link
~
Danny would be the first to admit that he had a knack for finding himself in stupid situations.
Or, at least, they had a knack for finding him.
This was all to say that the last place Danny expected to find himself on a bright and sunny July afternoon was trapped in an elevator with Mr. Lancer, of all people.
Now, the situation could have been worse— and it was. For all the shitty luck that Danny possessed in the universe, it seemed that there was always another giant middle finger waiting around the next corner.
Danny hadn’t thought much when he heard the grinding sound of the parking deck’s elevator as one of the mechanisms securing the cable snapped. He’d been out flying when it happened and simply bolted towards the sound, determined to phase whoever was inside to safety. It had come as a shock, finding the elevator occupied by someone he knew. What came as more of a surprise, however, was the sickly glow of a ghost shield snapping into place before Danny could follow through with that plan.
It had been a close thing, putting on the brakes before he collided, Lancer in tow, with the glowing wall of the elevator.
Unfortunately, the doors had long-since shut and he couldn’t touch the crooked metal without meeting the painful shock of the shield.
Just being inside of it had Danny feeling woozy.
All he could do was stand awkwardly on the elevator floor, his stance a bit crooked as the elevator had sagged into a tilt, off-balance as it was in the shaft.
It was at least preferable to the thing crashing down to the ground floor.
Lancer, for what it was worth, was managing better than most would given the circumstances. At least, he had stopped screaming about a minute ago.
If there was one positive thing Danny could gleen from the experience, it would have to be hearing his teacher utter a hearty ‘fuck’ rather than the usual literary substitute.
Not that he had much time to enjoy it at present.
Lancer’s chest heaved and his knees shook. He leaned against the side of the elevator with his arms splayed out across the metal hand railing on that side, his eyes flickering all around the small cabin. Danny knew that ghost shields never felt pleasant even to humans, but in his distress Mr. Lancer seemed to favor leaning into the buzz of the ectoplasmic energy over standing.
Granted, given the shakiness of his legs, they might not hold him much anyway.
The metal of the elevator groaned, dust cascading from the paneled roof as it slid a couple inches down the shaft, eliciting a startled yelp from Lancer as he grabbed the railing with white knuckles.
Danny supposed there was more than one reason he should stay anchored to that railing.
“H–hey,” Danny said, trying to get his teacher’s attention. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but he didn’t think that awkwardly standing there, staring the man down, was conducive to settling his nerves.
Mr. Lancer’s gaze snapped up to meet his own. His eyes stretched wide, as if he hadn’t noticed Phantom’s presence until that moment, even though the ghost boy had just scooped him up before unceremoniously dropping him back down when the shield burst to life.
“Ph-Phantom?” he quavered.
“Yeah, um, who else?” Danny said, the words leaving his lips before he could think better of it. He cringed as soon as they did, chastising himself. It probably wasn’t a good time to make sarcastic jibes.
If Mr. Lancer noticed the snark, however, he didn’t comment on it. The toes of his shoes dug into the dirty linoleum on the elevator floor and he licked his lips nervously, eyes still darting around the cabin as though an exit might materialize from the ectoshield.
When he didn’t say anything, Danny felt like he needed to fill the silence. Anything to drown out the low hum of the ectoshield and the rapid hammer of Mr. Lancer’s frightened heartbeat.
“So, I know this looks bad but everything is going to be okay,” Danny said. His voice echoed in the small space, the tinny sound amplified by the metal around him.
Lancer just blinked, his pale green eyes, so much duller than Phantom’s own, stretched as wide as saucers.
“H–how can you be sure?” he said.
Danny’s eyes trailed around the elevator, ghosting over the green glare of the ectoshield. It completely covered the elevator box, though the floor of the shield had been thankfully recessed beneath the linoleum.
Danny could still feel the hum it gave off through his boots.
“I’ll think of something,” he said, more to himself.
Mr. Lancer blanched, his face practically as pale as Danny’s hair. “Can’t you just—” the words died on his tongue as he glanced at the green shield once more, shivering slightly.
“Yeah, the shield kind of complicates things,” Danny said with a sigh. “Not their best design choice.”
He didn’t have to elaborate on whose design choice had crafted this coffin disguised as a convenient mode of transportation.
Lancer let out a shaky breath. “It probably seemed more practical in theory,” he said, each word as shaky as his legs.
Danny nodded, crossing his arms. “Like, I can see what they were going for, but you’d think after over a year of help from a ghost they’d consider maybe— just maybe — that trapping people in a small ghost shield suspended three stories up might not be a great idea.”
“Oh, Watership Down,” Lancer said faintly, sliding slightly down the wall, leaning more heavily against the railing. Danny hadn’t realized just how much he was rambling, or how faint Lancer was looking in the wake of his ill-timed tirade.
“Sorry,” Danny said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Probably not the best time for that.”
Lancer nodded, his eyes wide and staring at the floor. “Yes, I don’t think it is,” he said.
Danny let out a long, drawn out sigh. He ran a hand through his mop of white hair, trying and failing to focus his thoughts on anything constructive. He was uncomfortably aware of the small, tight space. Nothing quite as claustrophobic as the thermos, but without any sure way to escape it had Danny’s core thrumming uncomfortably.
Lancer just stared at him. Danny couldn’t fault the man. For all that Mr. Lancer had seen of Phantom— considering the many times he had rocketed through his classroom wall— Danny supposed that this was probably his first time seeing Phantom up close. Danny could see his own glow reflected in his teacher’s eyes— or perhaps it was mostly the light that the ghost shield emitted.
“I don’t suppose you have a phone on you?” Danny asked him.
Considering Mr. Lancer hadn’t reached to grab one, he thought he already knew the answer…
Sure enough, Lancer replied with a hollow, “Left it in the car.”
Danny tried to strain his ears for any outside sounds, desperate to drag his focus off of the small confines of the elevator. He could hear the rumble of traffic, but not much else besides that. The concrete walls of the parking garage were too dense, and the buzz of the ghost shield too distracting.
“Looks like we might have to wait for someone then,”Danny said nervously, his eyes trailing to the buttons on the elevator.
Moving slowly, careful not to startle Mr. Lancer, Danny crossed the short distance to those buttons. He was closer than Lancer was and his footsteps much lighter. The man tensed slightly as Danny moved, but didn’t say anything.
A layer of the ghost shield danced over the buttons, a rippling wall of green that sparked with electricity. It had to be one of his parents’ newer shields, judging by the bright color and the intensity of the static it gave off. Just being near the thing had his own ectoplasm buzzing uncomfortably.
Danny glanced back at Lancer, finding his teacher’s eyes trained on him. There was fear there, though also a quiet curiosity. It reminded Danny that he hadn’t seen Mr. Lancer at his parents' last few ghost seminars. That, for all the nervous fear mongering his teacher had given into in those first few months after the portal sparked to life, he seemed… much more reserved now. He didn’t show the same open support for Phantom that his students did, but Danny would take reserved caution over open hostility any day.
Glancing back at the elevator buttons, Danny bit his lip. He couldn’t exactly ask Lancer to press the buttons himself. Even if he carried him, there was no saying if the elevator would shift again once he placed him back down.
Steeling his nerves, Danny held out his finger for the emergency button on the control panel.
The ghost shield rejected his ectoplasm immediately, sending a current of electricity through his body in a painful jolt. Sparks shot out where his finger met the shield, and Danny could only watch in horror as those sparks tangled with the control panel itself. He could see the current race through the metal, rippling beneath the buttons in bright cracks and pops.
One last spark ignited at the top and, with a loud crack, the lights of the elevator shut off.
Danny stumbled backwards as it happened, hardly stopping himself from careening into the opposite wall of the shield. In the absence of the elevator’s lights, the space was bathed in a sickly wash of green.
Lancer swore again, the sound enough to have Danny spinning around to make sure he was okay. Lancer had crouched, both hands still held firmly onto the railing as he lowered himself to the elevator floor with shaking knees. At a glance, Danny could have mistaken him for a ghost with how the light of the ectoshield painted his skin.
“Are you okay?” Danny asked, his voice sounding rather small, shaky with his building unease.
He doubted that the elevator had put off much of a distress signal before it lit up like a Christmas tree.
Lancer just slowly shook his head, staring at something only he could see. He was practically sitting now, his hands shaking on the railing, barely able to hold on any longer. Thankfully, the elevator didn’t shift as he sank to the floor.
“I’m sorry,” Danny said, glancing back at the elevator buttons. A thin line of smoke trailed from the emergency button, giving off an acrid scent that mixed with the ozone of the shield.
Lancer looked up at that, the sudden movement in his periphery causing Danny to snap his attention back to him. Danny was surprised to find his brows furrowed.
“What are you sorry for?” Lancer croaked out.
Danny blinked. He stared. He looked between the buttons and Lancer, now shaking his own head. “I… broke the buttons?” he said, confused.
Surely Lancer hadn’t missed that lightshow.
Lancer’s brows drew so close together they nearly formed one line. His frown stretched almost as far, pulling at his black facial hair.
“You just hurt yourself trying to press it,” he said slowly.
Danny nodded his head, still unsure. “Yeah… and I broke it?”
If Lancer’s hands weren’t currently clutching onto the railing for dear life, Danny had a feeling they would find their way to pinch at his tear ducts— a gesture he often adopted when faced with a frustrating situation or student.
“You… you knew the shield would hurt you and still tried to press that button,” Lancer said, his voice now tinged with exasperation.
Danny’s own brows drew together, frustration drawing his teeth to clench. “ And I said I was sorry,” he challenged.
It wasn’t his fault there was a ghost shield. It wasn’t his fault it tampered with the buttons. He’d tried , and if Lancer couldn’t accept his apology, Danny wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.
It’s not like he could storm off right now. Even if he could transform back, he had no way of knowing where the elevator was within the shaft, or how easily he could escape it without unsettling the delicate balance.
Not that he could transform. Not here, not now.
Something strange ghosted across Lancer’s face, the expression hollow and haunted, shadowed oddly by the light from the shield; it glowed so brightly off of his bald head.
“I know you didn’t mean to,” he said, his words hushed, echoing slightly in the enclosed space. “I’m not arguing with you, Phantom, I… Are you all right?”
The question came so out of left field it struck Danny dumb. He fidgeted uncomfortably, noticing for the first time that he was cradling his left hand in his right.
Glancing down, Danny saw that his glove had been singed by the contact with the ghost shield. Just like the buttons, it smoked faintly, revealing angry green flesh beneath.
He was shaking. When did he start shaking?
Clenching his hand into a fist, Danny thrust it behind his back and out of sight. “I’m fine,” he said, locking his eyes onto Lancer, as if challenging him to say otherwise.
That strange expression persisted on his teacher’s face. If Danny had to give it a name, he supposed the closest thing he could compare it to was pity. Something about that squeezed uncomfortably at his core.
Danny was used to breaking things, and he was even more used to being blamed for breaking things— whether he had a part in it or not. That button had been a lifeline, possibly the only real thing that could ensure Lancer a safe reunion with the ground…
Why wasn’t he angry?
An uncomfortable silence filled the elevator. Danny could hear a siren somewhere outside, though it sounded far too distant to be something headed their way. Danny had no way of knowing how long it would take for help to arrive, or if it even would in time.
Danny was still shaking. It had gotten worse, if anything. The glow of the ghost shield was too bright and the walls of the elevator too narrow. The tilt in the floor too drastic, the hum of the shield resonating too discordantly with his core.
Danny had crouched down too, though he couldn’t say when he sank to the floor. He hugged at his knees, suddenly very aware of the summer heat. The elevator had been stifling to begin with, devoid of fresh air and baked by the sun. The ghost shield didn’t help, putting off a crackling heat that seemed to sap the breath from his lungs. Breath he didn’t need but wanted.
When did his breathing get so heavy, anyway?
“Phantom?” The voice was quiet, unsure. It sounded both miles away and entirely too close, whispering in his ear.
Danny stared at his gloves. The shield painted them green, like fresh ectoplasm over his hands. His arm still stung from the shock— still buzzed with the latent energy it gave off.
A distant echo of something far worse that still clung to him, leaving fern-like marks that rippled up that same arm.
“Phantom?”
He was Phantom, wasn’t he? That was his name, but he didn’t feel much like anything right now. More smoke and mirror than boy or even ghost. Phantom was supposed to be a hero, not some child who sank to his knees with fear squeezing tight enough at his chest to burst.
“Phantom, are you okay?”
Was he okay? What did it mean to be okay? When was the last time he really was okay?
Somewhere distant Danny knew he was spiraling. He could practically feel his own awareness slipping through his fingers, lost to that tidal wave of fear.
“Breathe with me, okay?”
He didn’t need to breathe, but he still did— sucking down deep gulps of air, like some awful mockery of a fish gasping on the bank of a sun-baked river.
“In and out. Breathe with me, it’s okay.”
How many times had Jazz said those exact same words? They were practically ingrained in Danny’s psyche, as much a part of him as the hazmat suit had made itself, fused as it was to his ectoplasm.
“That’s it. In and out.”
When had he shut his eyes? For all the green staining his eyelids, they might as well still be open.
“You’re doing great. Just keep breathing.”
An odd thing to say to a ghost (not that Lancer knew the half of that), but not unappreciated. Air felt good, as humid and musty as it was. His core followed the pattern, practically imitating the humble tattoo of a heart.
He could hear a heartbeat too. Faster than his own, though slower and more timely than the pulse of a core. Human. Safe.
Danny focused on the sound. It almost drowned out the hum around him. It almost was enough to lull him into a safe, comfortable rest.
Almost, but not quite. Not enough to completely dash the ever-present buzz of the shield beneath him, dragging Danny back to the coffin of an elevator and its lurid green light.
Slowly, Danny opened his eyes. The light of the shield was not particularly bright, but it still burned his retinas. The hum seemed louder now, the static of it buzzing against his skin and frayed nerves. He blinked owlishly, his eyes roving over the rippling walls of green—
They landed on the person sitting nearby.
Danny couldn’t help but flinch back, surprised by the close proximity. With how glued Lancer had been to the railing, he would not have expected the man to move, and yet…
Here he sat in the middle of the elevator in front of him.
"Feeling better?" Lancer asked. He leaned away slightly from Danny, but did not make any retreat.
For a moment Danny wondered if he'd transformed. Why else would Lancer have risked shifting the elevator just to, what, comfort him?
Danny held up his hands, half-expecting to find human skin.
His eyes met the same pair of green-stained white gloves.
"That was quite the panic attack," Lancer said when Danny didn't answer.
Panic attack… that was definitely the phrase for it. Danny could recognize the lingering fatigue and oversensitive nerves that followed one.
That spiraling sense of losing himself still lingered too, along with tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Sorry," was all Danny could think to say, wiping at his face.
"Why are you apologizing?"
It seemed like a genuine enough question, not that Danny felt he could give a genuine enough answer.
"Dunno," he said, hugging his knees more tightly, rubbing his good hand over the other. "Just seems like a pretty inconvenient time and place for a panic attack."
Of all the places he’d had a panic attack, this one maybe ranked a four out of ten. If he was being generous.
Lancer sighed. He settled down a bit beside him, though did not at all relax. Danny could see how his fingertips dug into the linoleum like cat claws desperately trying to find purchase on a branch.
“I don’t know that there’s ever a convenient time or place for them,” he mused.
Danny rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t be having one in the first place,” he muttered darkly.
Lancer’s brow quirked at that. “What makes you say that?” he asked.
Danny picked his head up off of his arms, glaring at the man. “I came here to save you, not to, what— have an impromptu therapy session? Whatever this is.” He gestured around the cabin of the elevator, as if this whatever was some physical concept he could point to.
“Well, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, I think,” the teacher said. He didn’t look at Danny directly, his eyes trailing over the shut doors of the elevator. “Why not humor me?”
“I don’t feel like any jokes right now,” Danny quipped, pillowing his chin back on his arms.
Lancer chuckled, the sound odd and out of place in Danny’s ears. “No, I don’t suppose you would— frankly, I don’t either, but… humor me. Why don’t you feel like you can have a panic attack?”
Danny wasn’t sure when the script had flipped on him. It hadn’t been that long ago when Lancer was clinging to the railing, shouting in fear while Danny tried to weigh his options.
Now, sat on the grimy linoleum floor of the elevator, Lancer seemed remarkably calm and Danny… he felt remarkably small.
Smaller than usual.
He stubbornly wiped at his face again, hoping that no evidence of tears remained. Lancer might not know it was him, but he still didn’t want to be seen crying in front of his teacher.
“I’m supposed to be a hero— and a ghost. Why should I have a panic attack over something like this?” he asked petulantly, digging his nails into his knees.
Lancer did not reply right away. He was quiet, seeming to pick his words very carefully before opening his mouth once more.
“Well, what is bothering you? Was it the shock from the shield?”
Danny’s eyes roved from Lancer to the buttons almost absently. He couldn’t tell if the shock was still reverberating through his ectoplasm, or if it was the mere memory now. The phantom feeling of the tide tugging at your waist while falling asleep after a day spent in the waves.
“I don’t… I don’t think so— I don’t know,” Danny stammered, his brows bunching together with frustration as he considered it.
The glare of the ectoshield taunted him, rippling around him like light refracting through the water of a large aquarium.
“Is it something else?” Lancer asked gently.
Danny didn’t look at him. He stared at the buttons, transfixed. If he looked at them just the right way, they sort of formed an odd face with too many eyes. It reminded Danny of a ghost he saw once while lost in the zone, drifting a little too far past the Far Frozen’s snowy mountains.
“Maybe,” he said quietly. “It’s part of it, I guess, but… I mean the shield sucks, and it’s small in here and reminds me of the thermos, and it’s too hot for my core and—”
Danny stopped abruptly, his eyes locking onto Lancer’s, finding the man watching him with wide, fascinated eyes. It had his core stuttering uncomfortably and a blush rising to his cheeks, no doubt as green as the hazy light from the shield.
Ducking his head down into his knees, Danny muttered, “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
Another sigh from Lancer. He was doing that a lot today— he always did, really. “It sounds like you needed someone to talk to,” he mused.
Danny just shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. His face positively burned. “I have friends,” he mumbled.
“Are they who you usually talk to about these sort of things?”
Danny clamped his eyes shut tight, trying to calm the unsteady thrum of his core. “I guess,” he said dismissively.
A pause stretched between them and Lancer shuffled uncomfortably in it. Danny tensed as he did, worried the elevator might shift again, but it seemed as though it had found a solid place to rest in the shaft.
“Do you…” Lancer trailed off, sounding very unsure of the question lying on his tongue.
When he didn’t continue, Danny cracked open one bright green eye. “Do I what?” he challenged, tensing himself for whatever question might follow.
The look Lancer gave him would not be out of place on someone who had just watched a sad commercial with sat wet dogs. “Do you… have any adults to talk to? Any ghosts that look after you?”
Whatever question Danny had been expecting, he hadn’t expected one to strike so surely at his core. It thrummed like the strings of a violin, magnified until it reverberated through his entire being. Danny wondered if Lancer might feel it through the floor, over the hum of the shield.
“What?” was all he could say. No other words would find their way to his lips. His mind had shut down, lingering on the question with an uneasy, empty feeling that resonated from his core and hollowed out his belly.
“Is there anyone that looks after you?” Lancer asked again, his tone firm but no less gentle for it.
Danny stared straight ahead, seeing nothing as he let the question turn in his mind. His first thought was of Jazz. Ever since she found out about him, she’d stepped up in ways he could not have hoped for or imagined. She kept the first aid kit stocked. She checked him over for injuries. Jazz asked Danny how he was feeling, and wouldn’t always let him get away with a dismissive answer.
She’d even started to cook them breakfast these last few weeks. Her first few attempts were about as disastrous as their mother’s own cooking— no doubt unaided by the tainted ingredients— but she was getting better. She had a little fridge in her room now with ingredients kept far away from the lab samples, and for the first time in a long while Danny was remembering what eggs tasted like without the acidic bite of ectoplasm.
Danny opened his mouth to give Lancer an affirmative answer, but froze when the man’s first question rang in his ears.
“Do you… have any adults to talk to?”
A stone dropped into Danny’s belly as he realized with a sick sense of dread just how much Jazz had risen to the forefront of his mind as a caretaker, completely eclipsing their parents.
Danny’s mouth was dry as he swallowed a lump in his throat. He could feel Lancer’s eyes burning into him as he took far too long to answer— his silence about as much of an answer as anything else, really.
“Y–yes,” Danny said, though his shaky words hardly convinced himself.
They certainly didn’t seem to convince Lancer, either. His brow quirked slightly before he schooled his features into a softer expression. “Do you?” he pressed.
Danny nodded, even as his mind spiraled once more, wallowing through a current of memories. He tried to think of the last time he felt comfortable talking to his parents, but only flashes of uncomfortable silences and nervous lies came to mind. He tried to think of the last time he felt safe in their care, but only the memory of dodging weapons and hiding injuries swam to the forefront of that current.
At some point Danny’s nod turned into a tilt— a shake. He was shaking his head, ever so slightly. His core squeezed and fresh tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
Lancer sighed yet again, the sound bone-weary and deep with exhaustion. “Where do you go when you’re not in Amity?” he asked. “Where do you stay?”
It was too personal of a question, one that Danny never would have thought to answer from a civilian. He’d been asked so many things by the people of Amity— shouted questions of his death and of his life before then. Each grated at his nerves and his core with an unrivaled discomfort, never something he would think to acknowledge with more than a joke, at most.
Yet… Danny didn’t resent the question coming from Lancer. It didn’t upset him, not in the way it normally did. The discomfort was there, but it had more to do with his own uncertain answer than the fact that Lancer had dared to ask the question in the first place.
It was Danny’s turn to sigh now, feeling his entire body sag into the motion as he hugged his knees still tighter, practically phasing them into his torso.
All he could do was shrug.
He knew where Danny Fenton went at night, but Phantom didn’t exactly have a place to rest his head.
Lancer shuffled a bit closer until he was sitting directly beside Danny. He didn’t scoot away, almost welcoming his presence.
“I won’t pretend to know what it’s like being in your shoes,” Lancer began, his eyes locked onto Danny as he spoke, “but I’m here to talk if you ever need someone to be there.”
Danny blinked, staring. He hardly knew what to say— could hardly find any words in his head. After a pause, all that would come out was a hesitant, “Yeah?”
Lancer smiled, the gesture small as it tugged at his lips. “Yes. I’m a teacher and part of my job is to be there for my students.”
Danny frowned at the word. “I’m not one of your students, though,” he said defensively, shuffling his feet. “I’m just a ghost.”
For one gut-wrenching moment Danny wondered if Lancer had figured him out. He couldn’t imagine how. His ghost form changed too much, both impacted by the ectoplasm in his system and by his own thoughts, as Frostbite once explained to him. The sharpened ears, the greenish tint of his skin— the broader shoulders and squared chin, more masculine than he dared hope for.
Even just the glow was enough to throw his features into a differing relief, but above it all there was one factor that Danny knew kept his identity safe:
The difference between flesh and ectoplasm. Life and death. Why ever assume something that breathed would also harbor something as innate to death as a core?
(Nevermind that he had been breathing this entire time, not that he needed it as he was.)
Yet if Lancer noticed the breathing or somehow made that leap of logic that saddled the line between life and death as surely as Danny did himself, he didn’t show it. He simply smiled sadly, meeting Phantom’s eyes with a kindness he rarely had shown to him in this form.
“Maybe not, but you must have been a student in this town at some point,” he said, his eyes trailing to his hands in his lap, fingers nervously rubbing his knuckles. “I might not be an expert on ghosts, but after teaching for as long as I have, I’d like to think that I know a thing or two about teenagers. You stay in this town enough that it must have been your home— that it must still be.”
He wasn’t wrong, of course. Mr. Lancer didn’t know the details, but his words rang truer than he knew. They echoed in Danny’s mind, as hollow and uncomfortable as they were right.
Amity was Phantom’s home. It was his home.
Just hearing someone who wasn’t Sam, Tucker, or Jazz acknowledge that had the tears pricking at Danny’s eyes spilling over.
A hand tentatively patted his shoulder and Danny leaned into the touch, finding more peace in it than he thought he should.
A peace that, like many good things, did not last very long.
A familiar siren cut through the concrete, the sound grating at Danny’s frayed nerves with a fresh onslaught of fear. He couldn’t help but jolt at the sound, jumping into the air where he hovered, staring at the elevator doors.
“Phantom?” Lancer asked nervously.
The siren practically echoed in his skull, the sound far too familiar and far too disquieting. How many times had he heard it barreling towards a ghost attack, knowing that its presence would only complicate the battle? How many times had he been glad for the warning, if only so he could escape?
There was no escape right now, however. No way for him to slip out of sight, either through the walls of the elevator or into his own human skin. He couldn’t transform, not with Lancer right next to him and his secret already hanging by a gnawed thread.
Mr. Lancer must have heard the siren himself now, judging by the way his eyes moved from Phantom to the elevator doors. Danny couldn’t help but notice that his eyes brightened with relief.
“Lord of the Flies, it sounds like someone’s finally coming,” he said, that same relief carried on a much more relaxed sigh.
Danny bit his lip, unable to answer. He didn’t resent Mr. Lancer’s joy at hearing the siren, though it did come as a dark contrast to his own roiling emotions.
“I don’t think they’re here to help,” he mumbled darkly, unable to suppress the resentment in his tone as he glared at the ectoshield warping over the elevator doors. “Not met at least.”
Danny heard Lancer suck in a sharp breath of air. He turned at the sound, finding his teacher watching him with renewed concern in his eyes. “They wouldn’t…” he said slowly, his own words trailing off as doubt crept into his tone.
Danny nodded. “They must’ve gotten some sort of alert when this thing went off,” he said, gesturing to the shield.
“But they wouldn’t… you’re not…” Lancer tried again, his words no less convinced the second time around as he trailed off, his eyes widening when they fixed on the door.
The siren was so close now, echoing around the elevator. Each blaring note of the sound had Danny’s ears ringing and his core stuttering violently with fear. He absently drifted farther away from the elevator doors, watching them warily.
“If I could just explain to them—”
This time Lancer’s words were cut off as a loud, booming voice shouted. It came from somewhere overhead, echoing down the elevator shaft.
“Is there anyone in there!” the unmistakable voice of Jack Fenton boomed. “Our sensors detected that a ghost triggered our shield. Is the ghost subdued? Are any humans trapped?”
Danny stared, wide-eyed up at the elevator ceiling. He sank back down onto the floor, cowering as he heard what sounded like metal grinding as someone tried to force it apart.
His eyes flickered to Lancer, watching uncertainly as the man gaped at the ceiling. He had to be frighteningly aware of his precarious position in the elevator. Jack Fenton’s voice, though it sent fear rocketing through Danny’s core, must’ve sounded like freedom and safety to Lancer in that moment.
And yet… his eyes trailed back to Danny with uncertainty.
It was disquieting, seeing that expression on that face of a man trapped in an elevator shaft, who for all intents and purposes should have welcomed any offer of rescue with the widest embrace.
Yet Danny thought back to Lancer’s words as he calmed him down from his panic attack. He thought of his hand gently patting Danny’s shoulder, soothing him as he cried. He thought of how Lancer, once he pushed his own fear aside, had shown nothing but kindness and fear for him, not of.
He had called Phantom his student. Had called Amity his home.
“Is anyone down there!” Jack Fenton called again, the sound of metal shifting accompanying his voice once more.
In that moment, Danny knew that he would have one of two options. There was no way his parents would disable the ectoshield without first making sure that no ghosts lingered invisibly within it. As Phantom, he was trapped, resigned to being seen. Cornered.
If his parents caught Phantom now in this position, Danny’s only option would be to try and explain himself and hope that they might understand. Pray that they wouldn’t assume he was overshadowed and give him a fraction of a chance.
But… Danny had another option.
Looking at Lancer, finding him nervously staring up at the ceiling, Danny weighed that second option.
He weighed Lancer’s words, the kind admissions of home and student nestling comfortably in his core.
It was a leap of faith, and one Danny probably shouldn’t feel more secure in than his parents, and yet… When was the last time he felt safe around an adult?
Here, in an elevator, trapped with a man who had shown him more humanity in the last five minutes than an entire town had in a year.
The choice was clear to Danny.
“Mr. Lancer,” Danny began, his voice timorous and too small. His teacher’s eyes locked onto him at the sound.
“Y–yes?” he asked just as quietly, bewildered.
Of course, he had never given Phantom his name.
Danny licked his lips. His breath caught in his throat as the metal shifted overhead again and he had to shut his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to steady his nerves.
“I am one of your students.”
When the man didn’t reply, Danny slowly opened his eyes, finding Lancer shaking his head, his eyes never once leaving Danny.
“I… don’t follow,” he said.
More metal shifting overhead. Something heavy thumped. Danny’s core pulsed and his hands shook.
“I—I am one of your students,” he repeated, hardly more than a whisper. “Y–you taught me last year, and I wasn’t the best student but… but you helped me— then and now. And I… I’m afraid, but I want to trust you.”
The words tumbled out, a flood breaking through the dam as more tears slipped down Danny’s cheeks. He could hear talking above now, though the words were lost to the hum around him and the awful buzz still dancing through his ectoplasm.
Lancer was breathing heavily now. He looked at Phantom as though seeing him for the first time, his eyes stretching wide as saucers, capturing enough of the green light around them that they almost mimicked his own.
“D–Danny?” he said in a hushed tone.
The last bit of stone that held that flood back shattered. Tears dripped down Danny’s chin and he nodded, every inch of him shaking at that mere admittance.
He hardly even had to reach for his core. The transformation came to him too quickly, rolling over him in a warm rush that banished the chilliest parts of his core to rest within his chest. He watched the gloves disappear, the bright green scars over his hand fading to white. The lichtenberg figures were faint, though now he could properly see their winding course over his wrist and under the hem of his red sweatshirt. White as they were, the sickly glow of the shield stained the scars just as green as his gloves had been.
“Danny…” Lancer said again, the sound choked in his throat.
Danny hardly dared glance up, terrified of what he might find on his teacher’s face. Disgust? Disappointment? Fear?
He half expected Lancer to call a warning to his parents.
Danny looked up when the elevator groaned, startled as he felt it shift slightly and heard an alarmed sound from overhead.
Lancer was looking at him still, but it wasn’t with any of the fear that Danny had expected. It was tired— sad. Sorrow. The man had shifted slightly where he sat, trying to reach out for him, but had frozen when the elevator shifted. Now he simply sat there, watching Danny with that somber expression.
Danny couldn’t tell if it was just the green light, but he thought he saw the pinprick of tears in his teacher’s eyes.
Dust rained down as something overhead shifted. For the first time since the buttons sparked, light that wasn’t green flooded the elevator as one of the ceiling tiles moved.
Maddie Fenton’s red-lensed goggles swam into view. Danny hated that his first instinct at seeing them was to cower, fear coursing through him at seeing those lenses reflecting the green of the ghost shield.
But if Maddie knew something of Danny’s secret, it didn’t carry into the surprised gasp she gave as her eyes locked onto him.
“Danny! I— what are you doing here? How did—” the words caught in her throat and she gave a minute shake of her head, seeming to come back to where they were.
“Mads?” Danny heard his father’s voice from behind her, echoing in the expanse of the elevator shaft.
Danny hardly heard them as Maddie explained the situation to her husband. He hardly noticed when more of the panels were pulled away and a rope ladder was lowered into the elevator.
When Lancer urged him to climb up it first, he had to tell Danny twice before a fraction of the words made it to his ears. He moved mechanically, his legs shaking as the elevator groaned when he tentatively stood and clutched the ropes.
He paused for a moment when he met the roof of the ectoshield. Even in their rescue, his parents hadn’t deigned to disable the device, though he was sure they could. Danny’s core buzzed uncomfortably as he passed through the wall of green, but it allowed his passage without the sparking jolt that had bit at his hand.
When Jack pulled Danny up with enough force to almost yank his arm from the socket, he allowed himself to be pulled into a tight embrace. He melted into it for a moment before his father had to shift his focus to Lancer, still trapped as he was in the elevator shaft.
Danny could only wait with bated breath as they pulled him up.
He watched as Lancer stumbled out onto the floor of the parking garage, blinking dazedly in the sunlight that filtered through the open windows.
How strange that it was still daylight.
Danny waited, still feeling sure that he had made a mistake— that any moment now Lancer would speak up and spill the truth.
Those thoughts fled his mind when Mr. Lancer’s eyes locked onto him. There really were tears there, welling onto his lashes, brightening the green of his eyes with emotion.
He didn’t speak, just watching quietly.
With both of them secured, Maddie pulled Danny into a hug of her own. She held him tight, asking if he was hurt and smiling proudly at him when he put on a brave face and told her he was fine.
A fraction of that smile even felt real, basking in his mother’s warmth and concern.
It died a little when she said, “We need to scope the area for whichever ghost triggered the shield. If a ghost is willing to tamper with these cables, there’s no telling what other sort of harm they might cause.”
She whipped around to Lancer, the man straightening as her eyes fell on him. For all her short stature, Maddie could be an intimidating, intense ball of fire.
“Did you see anything? Did you hear anything that might help us locate this ghost?” she asked him.
Mr. Lancer blanched, his mouth opening and closing— eyes skirting minutely to Danny as he failed to give her a proper answer.
After a moment, he simply shook his head. Danny felt some of the tension leaving his shoulders, though he still didn’t dare let himself fully relax.
Maddie frowned, disappointment clear in her own slackened shoulders as she sighed. She glanced between her husband and Danny, her expression softening slightly as it landed on him, before fixing her lavender eyes once more on Lancer.
“I hate to ask this of you, William, but would you be willing to take Danny home? I know that you two have been through a lot this evening, but we can’t let this go uninvestigated. If there’s a dangerous ghost lurking in the area, we need to find it before it truly hurts someone.”
Her tone was so sincere, each of her words dripping with resolve.
Lancer just gaped at her, looking between mother and son with utter disbelief.
“I—” he paused, glancing at Danny, looking at him with the same intensity he had before calling his name in that elevator shaft. “Yes.”
Maddie positively beamed, relief and admiration evident in her tone as she said, “Thank you so much; you have no idea how much this means to us.”
Mr. Lancer just nodded stiffly, standing to the side as Maddie pulled Danny into one last hug and kissed his forehead.
His skin burned where her lips touched. His chest felt hollowed out, his core thrumming slightly.
Something colder than the core in his chest ghosted over Danny’s skin when she let him go, turning back towards the elevator shaft to join the investigation with her husband.
Danny stared after them for a long moment, watching as she fell into the task without so much as a glance backwards.
He wiped at his forehead, still feeling the burn of her touch.
Another sigh behind him, longer and deeper than any Danny had heard that evening. He turned to find Lancer standing there awkwardly, wringing his hands with a nervous energy that he rarely saw adults let show.
“Let’s… let’s go then, shall we?” he said quietly.
Danny sighed too. He resisted the urge to glance back at the elevator shaft, already knowing that his parents were too absorbed in their work to notice.
For all the deep fear he’d felt at their arrival, this hollow ache was deeper.
“Y–yeah,” Danny said, swallowing against the tightness of his throat. “Okay.”
Danny didn’t even know why Lancer was in the parking deck that day, and he didn’t necessarily want to ask. The thought of inconveniencing the man from an errand he needed to run would just be one too many awful weights on his shoulders today. Instead, he just followed his teacher to his beat-up silver car, quietly climbing into the passenger seat.
Lancer climbed in on the driver side just as quietly. He didn’t even buckle his seatbelt at first. Didn’t start the car. He simply stared through the windshield, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel as he sat there and breathed.
Danny picked at the hem of his sweatshirt, lost for words. He couldn’t help but notice the phone lying beside him on the console between the seats.
“Are you alright?” Mr. Lancer asked him. His voice didn’t echo in the car like it had in the elevator, but he still flinched at the sudden sound.
Slowly, nervously, Danny met his eyes again, peering at the man through his bangs. “I guess.”
Lancer’s face crumpled slightly, pinched with sadness, but he nodded. Without saying another word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. The car roared into life a moment later, and a moment after they were off.
As they rounded the spiral of the parking garage, Danny found his eyes trailing out the window, locking onto the open doors of the elevator shaft. He could see the bright orange of his father’s hazmat suit, though couldn’t spot his mother before the car rounded the turn, leaving them behind.
Danny’s core squeezed alongside his heart.
Lancer turned the radio up, seemingly needing something to fill the silence, but lowered it just as quickly when the broadcast that filtered through the radio mentioned ghosts within the first breath of the speaker.
They continued on in awkward silence, Danny’s eyes glued to the window but unseeing anything past it.
“They don’t know, I assume.”
Danny had hoped that Mr. Lancer might not acknowledge the ghostly elephant in the room, but he supposed, like with all things, he was never that lucky.
Danny didn't bother to look at the man, choosing instead to just stiffly nod his head.
Another sigh. One too many, enough to grate at Danny’s nerves, but not enough for him to snap at it.
His belly felt too hollowed out for that anger now.
“You… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Lancer then said, carefully picking around the words like someone navigating a minefield. “You don’t have to tell me anything, really.”
“I know,” Danny said, allowing some bite to enter his words. He needed some measure of control over this situation in which he had practically none to speak of.
In his periphery, Danny could see Lancer nod his own head as he said, “I meant what I said back in the elevator— to Phantom. To you.”
That was enough to make Danny turn his head. He wasn’t sure what street they were on, only that it was a long one with too many stop lights. They’d stopped at each along the way, agonizingly dragging out the drive.
“Meant what?”
As they stopped at another light, Lancer turned his head to look at Danny. His eyes still seemed bright with emotion, though what tears had gathered in his eyes had disappeared.
“That if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. You are my student, after all.”
Danny bit his lip. He searched Lancer’s eyes, trying to find any hint of a lie or deceit, but Mr. Lancer truly seemed as sincere now as he had been stuck in that elevator shaft.
“It… doesn’t bother you that I’m a ghost?” he asked him.
There had to be a catch— there had to be a limit to this kindness and Danny would rather find it now than later.
Mr. Lancer’s frown deepened at the word ‘ghost’, but it quirked up into a small smile just as quickly.
“And my student,” he repeated gently. “And a kid, just like any one of my other students.”
Lancer’s smile was wry, hardly there, but it warmed him to see it at all. His voice echoed in Danny’s head as they drove on, the silence feeling much less daunting with those kind words occupying his thoughts.
Lancer seemed to hesitate for a moment before they turned onto Danny’s street. He hesitated another moment before pulling the car up alongside the sidewalk.
His knuckles were bone-white on the steering wheel, every inch of his posture as tense as Danny’s felt, like a cord ready to snap.
Danny didn’t get out of the car at first. He just sat there, staring at the red brick building of FentonWorks and the glaring neon signs over the door. His eyes skirted up to the Ops Center, the shadow looming over him a fiendish thing.
Danny was glad when Lancer did not immediately oust him from the car. He needed that moment to just sit and breathe. To have a space, however fragile, where he felt like he might have someone in his corner who was older than sixteen.
“You would… you really wouldn’t tell my parents?” Danny asked, hardly daring to speak the words allowed. Terrified that he might get confirmation of his worst fears.
Lancer’s eyes widened. He slowly shook his head, mouth slightly slack-jawed.
“No,” he said a little too quickly. “No, not…” He actually did pinch his tear ducts this time, in that familiar gesture he hadn’t been able to back in the elevator. “Pride and Prejudice, Danny, I know when a student is afraid of their parents. I’ve… I’ve seen it before. Not like this, never like this, but still…”
He trailed off, looking ahead, swallowing a lump in his throat as he gathered more of his thoughts.
“Danny…” he began again, the word quavering. “I don’t know how to help you with this. I… I just need you to promise me that you’ll do your best to be safe. That you’ll do the smart thing and ask for help when you need it. That if your parents hurt you…”
He trailed off again, shaking his head. Danny’s parents had already hurt him, they both knew this. It wasn’t an if, it was a when and an again.
“I’ll be careful,” Danny tried to reassure him. “I–I have Jazz, and Sam, and Tucker. They know. They know and they help me, and I trust them.”
He hoped that those words might quell some of Mr. Lancer’s doubts, but Danny’s core thrummed uneasily when his teacher’s eyes just widened with renewed horror.
The man slowly shook his head, a trembling hand rubbing at the bags beneath his eyes.
“You’re all just kids,” he said quietly.
It was true, technically, but Danny hadn’t felt like much of one over the last few months. He had too many responsibilities as Phantom— had seen and faced too many things.
“We can handle it,” he said, trying to reassure himself as much as Mr. Lancer.
He wasn’t sure it worked either way.
Danny glanced back to FentonWorks, his hand tracing the handle of the car door. “Um, thank you for taking me home, Mr. Lancer,” he said, his throat still tight. “And, uh, for everything else.”
Mr. Lancer just nodded. He seemed so tired, the bags beneath his eyes deeper and darker than Danny’s own. His teacher said nothing as he opened the door and climbed out, though seemed to find his voice as Danny went to shut it.
“Wait—” he said suddenly, holding out his hand.
Reluctantly, Danny pulled the door open wider, leaning down to hear what he had to say.
Mr. Lancer studied him for a long moment, eyes flickering over his face as though searching for a hint of Phantom’s glow in his irises.
“My door is always open if you need someone to talk to,” he said evenly. “Whatever happens, that doesn’t change.”
Danny blinked, letting his words sink in. He could feel the sincerity in them and, after everything that had happened today, Danny felt he had very little reason to doubt his teacher.
Nodding, voice still hoarse with emotion, Danny said, “Okay.”
~*~
William did not drive off right away. He allowed his car to idle as he watched Danny Fenton walk up the sidewalk and the steps to his front door. The boy knocked, waiting for a response inside. There was a long pause in which nothing seemed to happen and William was just considering rolling down the window to call out to the boy when he glanced back at him.
William’s heart leapt into his throat as Danny’s eyes met his. Even from a distance, he could see a sharp hint of green in them, the same shade he had grown accustomed to in his time trapped in that elevator. He watched with bated breath as Danny’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment before sweeping up and down the street.
William’s hands tightened on the steering wheel when Danny turned around and stepped through his front door as if it simply wasn’t there.
William let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, a shaky exhale that hardly did the stress of the day any justice.
With one last glance at FentonWorks, finding a simple wooden door where Danny had stood just a moment before, William drove away.
~*~
William stood in the entrance to his apartment for a long moment. Just stood there, hardly acknowledging when his cat came to greet him, brushing up against his ankles with a friendly meow.
He stiffly bent to stroke a hand through his fur, the soft texture feeling stiff and coarse against his numb skin.
Moving mechanically, William shuffled through the kitchen as he set a kettle on the stove to boil. He wasn't even sure how long the kettle whistled before it was enough to shake him from the stupor of staring into open space.
Even once he had his cup of tea, Lancer couldn't stop shaking. He sank down into his favorite armchair by his favorite shelf of books, eyeing the light brown tea in his cup without drinking.
He thought of Danny all the while— of Phantom. Of how long the ghost boy has been in Amity Park and what that must mean for his student.
It had been a year ago, William recalled clearly. A year ago when all of the ghosts appeared— Phantom included.
That must have been when…
A drop fell into William's cup of tea. He watched the ripples as more tears rolled down his cheeks.
His hand shook violently, splashes of the tea spilling into his lap, and William had to set the cup down on the end table beside his chair.
A year. His student had been dead for a year and he hadn't even noticed.
His parents hadn’t, either.
William didn't even want to think what had caused it. Didn't want to imagine what horrors that boy had faced, because he could already picture, far too clearly, plenty of them.
How many times had he watched Phantom fight?
All of the absences, all of the behavioral issues. Everything fell into place, a gruesome puzzle that William had never known needed solved.
He thought, too, of the boy's parents.
How many times had he watched the Fentons shoot at Phantom, aiming their guns without so much as a moment's hesitation?
William hardly noticed when his cat approached, giving a small meow as he butted his head into his hand and slowly picked his way into his lap. When Radio began to purr, the feeling that rumbled through his body was achingly similar to what William had felt from Phantom when he broke down.
When Danny, his student, broke down.
If Radio minded the tears splashing into his fur, he didn't care to move. He simply stuck there, rumbling away in William's lap, heedless of the emotions choking his chest.
William didn't know how long he sat there, mindlessly running his hand through Radio's ginger fur, allowing the cat’s purring to still the last few trembles in his fingers.
William didn't know what he'd do when the summer ended and he had to face that boy every day, knowing just why he raced from his classroom.
All William knew was that he'd keep his cellphone on him this time, always ready to answer just in case that boy needed his help.
If anyone needed that kindness, it was him.
#Danny phantom#phic phight 2023#phic phight#phanfic#fanfic#dp fanfic#dogfics#lexosaurus#majorastudios
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Monster in the Woods
"The more people tell Danny he is a monster the more monsterous he becomes. Things that seem innocuous turn into physical manifestations as he starts to believe what people say about him."
A Phic Phight prompt by @burning-clutch
...
Jazz walked through the forest, decaying leaves crunching under her feet. Her phone rang hollowly. "You've reached... please leave a message." Jazz dialed Danny's number again, the action mechanical at this point.
She almost didn't notice when someone started calling her. "Hello? Oh, Mom? No... Yeah, I'll call you. I will, I promise."
Then the call was over. There were bugs or other creatures making sounds in the forest. She still wasn't sure if she should be grateful for how they disguised her footsteps or if she should be cursing their noise, calling out for her brother. He could be lost, repentant from his earlier rashness, more than ready to go home. With his phone out of power, and that's why he wasn't answering her calls. Or... he could still be hiding from her. And that uncertainty was what was keeping Jazz from calling out into the forest.
A Fenton Thermos was at her belt. It had already been there since before Danny had run off, but it haunted Jazz with how its purpose might have changed. Would it be wrong to use it on Danny if she had to, if he tried to run away? Was it more important that she give him the freedom to choose what he wanted, or to get him home safe? She wanted to get him home, to dismiss everything as him being not in his right mind, but that wasn't fair, she should have been better at this point at valuing his feelings.
But if the conclusion was that she shouldn't use the thermos, should she even be looking for Danny at all?
Jazz drew to a stop, then wondered if that'd been a mistake. Starting to walk again would be difficult. Her body was calling her to drop to the ground and curl up in the dirt. Maybe she'd wake up and it'd all be a bad dream.
A childish thought. She kept walking.
As it got darker, Jazz had to turn on the flashlight of her phone, sacrificing any attempt at stealth. She started calling out Danny's name. The trees, taller here and thicker, felt like they were eating up her voice, preventing it from travelling more than a few feet.
Her phone was running out of battery. She'd need to go home now or risk becoming lost in the woods herself.
She turned on the navigator app on her phone to guide her back to town, wondering if it counted as giving up if you hardly felt like you had a choice, or if it even mattered if you kept going.
The leaves kept crunching on her feet. Her flashlight made a column of reality in the deepening darkness.
A sound. Something about it caught her attention, and Jazz looked out to the left towards it, not sure exactly what it was she'd heard, hoping to hear it again. There it was, a shifting in leaves, a whistling breath with some hollow quality.
On a hunch, Jazz clicked off her flashlight. She waited a minute for her eyes to adjust, then peered into that darkness again and saw a slight glow. Strange, why was it so dim? It would be sharper if it was just a matter of distance.
Jazz crept carefully towards the hollow glow, holding her hands out in front of her in the dark. The leaf rot didn't help her stealth; Danny, if that's who she was drawing close to, would know she was there. That was probably a good thing. She didn't hear the sound retreating.
More and more of something grew visible as she passed each tree, vague shapes in the shadows. An arm? A wing? She rounded the last one and saw him, limbs stretched tall and long and donned with sharp claws and chimeric feathers and scales. She couldn't tell if Danny's face was unchanged atop his neck; he was curled up as low as he could get. His aura was dim, possibly on purpose, possibly because he was feeling unwell.
Jazz walked up to him, letting the leaves shuffle underfoot, and put a hand on his back. "Danny. Hey. I'm here."
A sorrowful, crooning noise came from him and he tried to curl farther in on himself.
Jazz leaned into him and started stroking a hand down his back. "It'll be okay. You'll be okay."
Danny let out a shaky breath, his muscles loosening a little under Jazz's arms. He started drooping. It was getting late, and she knew he hadn't been getting good sleep lately; after such a rough day, he was probably tired.
Jazz stayed hugging him. It was slow at first, such that she hardly noticed it, but Danny's body started to shrink down to something closer to its natural size. After some dozen minutes, he turned around to hug her back. Hugging her brother didn't usually feel like this, lukewarm as a corpse, slick feathers fluffed with emotion tickling her cheeks, but Jazz couldn't say it was uncomfortable. She liked how his chest was still rising and falling, how she could hear his heart beating sluggishly within it if she listened closely enough.
"Can you talk?" Jazz asked at length, not yet looking at Danny's face.
He breathed a little sigh, which Jazz was about to assume meant no, before he managed, "Gnnuh-a li'l."
Danny's neck was now within reach, and Jazz curled her arms around it to run her hands through his hair--or feathers in this case, interspersed with a few reptilian ridges. "I know you had a hard day. Do you want to talk about any of it?"
Danny gave a pained whine, then winced at how loud it was. "N-no."
"Okay."
The sounds of the forest were friendlier now, keeping the silence from becoming pervasive. Jazz sat quietly with her oversized brother, glad to no longer have to worry about where he was.
Jazz's phone buzzed with a phone call, and she and Danny both jumped. Jazz fumbled for the phone. "H-hi, Mom. I'm still looking.... Yeah, I'm going to stay out longer, my phone still has battery. ...Uh-huh. ...Yeah, I hope so too. ...He's probably okay, Mom, he'll be back. ...I will. You too. Love you."
Jazz hung up the phone. Danny was hanging his head like he was ashamed of something. Jazz looked at his face without thinking, and he flinched nervously even though he looked pretty normal at that point. Maybe it was the uncanny valley he was worried about. He did look a little strange at this point, but Jazz had seen worse.
"You really don't look that bad, you know. I'm not just saying that."
"Ugh..." A clawed hand buried Danny's face. "I'm making her worry... I made you all worry."
"Come on, no shaming, we've talking about this. That's not constructive." Jazz ruffled the feathers atop Danny's head. They felt thinner now, closer to hair.
"Ssorry," Danny muttered.
Jazz rolled her eyes, pulling Danny to her side for a hug again and some pats on the back. "It's okay. I know you're doing your best.
Danny was getting better. He was pretty close to normal size. Jazz glanced over him and was pleased to see much of his skin now visible, ghostly simulacrum of his hazmat suit returning in place of feathers and scales. "You feel almost ready to change back you think?"
"Yeah..." Danny's shoulders drooped. "What am I gonna tell Mom?"
"What are we gonna tell Mom, you mean." Jazz gave Danny's shoulder a squeeze. "I've got your back. You're not alone in this, okay?"
Danny took a deep breath, the last of his feathers disappearing. "Okay."
Jazz stood up, then offered Danny a hand. "Let's start walking. We can figure out a story as we go, then I'll call Mom when we're ready."
Danny took her hand and followed as Jazz started walking. "Is there maybe some normal-ish explanation for all this? I'd rather not stick with the story that I ran away. Maybe me and Sam were on a walk or something and my phone died and I lost track of her?"
"That's a good start. I could message Sam about the excuse. Is youre phone actually dead?"
"Well, yeah."
"That makes me feel better about you ignoring my calls."
"Sorry."
"Y'know, Danny?"
"Yeah?"
Jazz pulled him in for another quick hug as they walked. "I'm really glad you're coming home."
"Aww man, don't make it weirder than it has to be."
"Emotions aren't weird, little brother."
"You're weird."
"My sincerest apologies for being the weirdest member of the family. I hope you'll all still be able to love me."
"Aww man, Jazz."
#my fanfics#Danny Phantom#Jazz Fenton#Danny Fenton#Phic Phight#Phic Phight 2024#AU#yeah i made it wholesome sorry not sorry#fenton family fluff
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They a Bit Confused, but They Got the Spirit
Maddie and Jack are ready to support Danny now that he's become a half-human, even though he's not ready to talk to them about it yet. He's so lucky that he has such observant and caring parents! They'll do anything they can to make sure he feels accepted and that he knows they love him no matter what, especially since turning into a werewolf must have been so scary.
Wordcount: 1,344
Can be read on AO3!
This is written as a part of Phic Phight for the prompt:
Jack and Maddie knew something supernatural was going on with their son, waiting for him to feel comfortable telling them they set out to help him in subtler ways. If only they had actually gotten the species right.
——
“Maybe we should just tell him that we know?” Jack asked one night after they had watched Danny stumble up the stairs and to his room with badly hidden injuries. “This is the fifth time this month.”
Maddie bit her lip with furrowed brows. “I’m not sure he would be open with us if we cornered him like that. We really should wait for him to come to us…” She trailed off, the last few words sounding less than certain.
Jack let out a deep sigh. He knew she was right, but it was so hard to stay silent and just watch their son go through something that was no doubt very scary and disorienting. To not be there for him. Especially since it wasn’t something that was going away any time soon. Speaking of, “I think it actually might be getting worse. Have you seen how his ears have changed?”
The change had been gradual, but as his ears grew distinctly tapered and more inhuman his attempts at keeping them hidden with his slightly too short hair started to fail. Jack had begun to worry that he might have a hard time keeping his condition a secret in school—kids could be unnecessarily cruel—and had given Danny a new NASA-branded hat. He felt more accomplished as a parent than he had in years when Danny had worn it the very next day.
Maddie nodded before biting at her thumb. “Yes, and his nails… And teeth!”
Jack heaved a deep sigh and grimaced. He had seen them too; long and sharp, both nails and teeth. “He’s been trying to hide them too.”
Maddie shook her head. “Our poor baby. He must be so scared. Wasn’t it enough with the late nights and the fights, and—”
Jack placed a hand on her shoulder and she cut herself off with a shaky breath. He drew her into a hug and murmured into her hair, “But he has us now. We’ll support him, no matter what.”
Maddie nodded and leaned back to look up at him with a determined look in her eyes that reminded him of why he fell in love with her in the first place, “Let’s make sure he knows it.”
Jack agreed. He hated that Danny felt that he had to keep the whole thing a secret from them but he and Maddie had decided to support him as best they could until he felt comfortable telling them about his sudden change into a half-human.
They would do their best to support their son even though he had been transformed into a werewolf.
——
It was later that night, with Maddie and Danny setting the table with Jack cooking at the stove, when Maddie decided to try and take the first step. ”Danny, I know how much you like space. And… and the moon.
Danny put out the plates with a distracted, “Yeah, sure?”
“You know…” Maddie began, trailing off as she wasn't sure how much she should reveal that they knew. The last thing she wanted was to scare him even further away from them. “There's a full moon coming up next week.”
Danny immediately perked up, his full attention on her. “Oh, I know!” he smiled, plates seemingly forgotten in his hands. “I’m going to go watch it with Sam and Tuck.”
That made Maddie pause, hand hovering over the table where she had been reaching for the last ectogun to put away before their meal. Maddie cast a glance over her shoulder, meeting Jack's equally surprised one. Danny's friends were involved in this too? She carefully asked, “Oh, with your friends?”
Maddie picked up the gun and twirled it in her hands as she decided to be a bit bolder in her approach. If Danny's friends knew, then he was surely more comfortable talking about this than they had thought. Maybe he had just thought that they wouldn't listen. “So… They know?”
Danny put out the last plate and started on the cutlery. “About the moon? I sure hope so.”
“No…” Maddie fingered the gun in her hands. “About you?”
Danny snorted. “That I like space? Yeah, I think it’s pretty hard to miss.”
Maybe he wasn't ready to talk with them just yet. That was fine, they could wait. “Never mind. I’m happy you have friends you can trust.”
Danny smiled at her. “Me too.” Then he paused with a small frown, “Wait, what do you mean trust—”
Jack turned from the stove with a steaming, bubbling, pot and a shout of, “Dinner’s ready!”
“That looks amazing, honey!” Maddie kissed Jack on the cheek before calling up the stairs, “Jazz, honey! Come down! It’s time to eat!”
“I made sure to make your steak extra bloody, Danny-boy!” Jack said with a wink as he deposited the big pot on the table and turned back around to whisk a frying pan with steaks from the stove.
Danny raised an eyebrow. “Uuuuh, why? I like them well-done. I always have?”
Maddie placed a hand on his shoulder and said, voice as reassuring as she could make it, “It’s okay if your tastes change, you know.”
“We would support you,” Jack added with a smile and a thumbs up as he pushed aside the blueprints to the new gun they had been developing to finally catch that menace Phantom to place the pan on the table.
Danny frowned as he slowly said, “Thanks? That’s great to know.”
Maddie mentally patted herself on the back. They were making progress!
Jazz came into the kitchen and surveyed the set table, eying the green bubbling pot in the middle with a critical eye. “Oh, you’re not done with the experiments for today? I thought dinner was ready?”
Maddie waved her off with a chuckle. “No, that's just the potatoes, silly.”
Jazz grimaced as she sat down. “Right. Of course.”
They finished eating—both of their kids must have eaten too many snacks again since they barely touched the food—and as they were cleaning up Jack hesitantly asked, “So, Danny-boy. Do you want a bone?”
“What?” Danny glanced up from his phone. “I have enough bones myself, thanks?”
Maddie straightened up, fascinated. “Oh, you have a stash? Can I see it?”
Danny slowly put his phone down with a confused frown. “…Yeah? It’s called my body?”
“In your…? Ah!” Maddie laughed. “No, to eat.”
Danny squinted at her. “Why would I want to… eat a bone?”
“You know…” Jack trailed off, gesturing vaguely in the hope that Danny would catch on and they wouldn’t have to spell it out and put him on the spot.
Danny didn't seem to catch on as he slowly said, “No? I don't know?”
“For your…” Jack hesitated and sent a pleading look at Maddie but she only gestured for him to continue. It was best if they really showed that they were there for him through all of these changes. Jack took a breath and finished with—according to Maddie—admirable casualness, “Condition.”
“My what?!” Danny exclaimed in clear bafflement. The poor dear, he had probably thought that he had managed to keep it a secret from them. It wasn't his fault that she and Jack were very observant.
Maddie decided to jump in and try and sooth him. “Oh, honey, it's okay! We love you no matter what.” She gave him what she hoped was a supportive look and added, “No matter what you turn into.”
Danny gaped at her. “Wait, you know?!”
Jazz placed a hand on Danny's shoulder and squeezed. “I told you they would understand.”
“Yeah!” Jack added with vigorous nodding. “It's okay that you're a werewolf!”
Danny blinked. “I'm not a—”
Jack cut him off with a shout, “At least you're not a damned ghost!”
Maddie shook her head in horror. That would be… Unimaginable. “And thank god for that!”
“I'm a werewolf!” Danny admitted with a vigorous nod, clearly relieved to finally come clean to them. “Bark bark! Awoo!”
Jazz removed her hand from Danny’s shoulder and slapped it over her own face.
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Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 16
@greatbigolhampuckjustforme
Jack stared at the place where his son had stood only a moment before. Then, he pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, heavily.
“That’s it, then,” he said. “It’s over. We’ve failed.”
“No,” said Maddie, shaking her head so fast her hair flared out. “No, it isn’t. He’s upset now, but we’ve had a good week. He’ll remember that.”
Jack shook his head. “What does that matter now? He knows what we’ve done. He knows that we tried to keep it from him.”
“But who else could he choose? The ghosts? Once– Once he calms down, he’ll choose us. He knows we love him. Of course he’ll choose us.”
“Will he? It was ghosts who stopped us.”
“We just have to believe in him,” insisted Maddie.
“I do,” he said. It wasn’t Danny Jack didn’t have faith in.
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Why Am I Like This?
4043 words, GrayGhost, written for @duchi-nesten's prompt for last year's phic phight that I never posted on here 😭. Welp, had to get it done before this year's phight. Enjoy!
“You know how there were rumors a while ago that I had a girlfriend?” he asked, and, Ancients, did his voice have to crack on that last word?
“No need to be so embarrassed, Danny-boy! We already know that you’re dating the Red Huntress!” his dad bellowed.
What.
“Yes,” his mom said curtly, “ we do.”
Or
Danny’s brain was short-circuiting.
How was he supposed to explain that he’s dating Valerie Gray, who was definitely not a vigilante ghost hunter, without giving away that he was definitely not a half-ghost vigilante ghost hunter, too?
He got a feeling that Clockwork was laughing at his pain.
Danny set his fork down carefully, grateful that tonight’s dinner wasn’t trying to kill him. He didn’t need that tonight, not when his plans were already going to be so stressful.
“So,” he started, and immediately three pairs of eyes zeroed in on him. His parents were looking at him expectantly, like they’d just been waiting for him to speak up which was… not a good sign, but Jazz was giving him her encouraging-yet-I’ll-be-disappointed-if-you-don’t-do-it look, so he kinda had to follow through now.
“You know how there were rumors a while ago that I had a girlfriend?” he asked, and, Ancients, did his voice have to crack on that last word? His parents were still waiting for him to get to the point.
“Yes, sweetie?” his mom prompted, her violet eyes shining with feigned nonchalance as she picked at her plate. At least she was pretending to be casual; his dad was openly staring at him again. He inwardly cringed, remembering the last time his dad thought he had a girlfriend.
He coughed and started rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, well,” Why did it have to be so embarrassing to tell your parents about your love life! “There’s this girl, you know. And she’s super kickass and fiery but also determined and loyal and compassionate? Uh, sorry, you already know her–”
Suddenly his dad clapped him on the back with enough force, ghost-enhanced physique or not, to nearly make him faceplant into his mashed potatoes. “No need to be so embarrassed, Danny-boy! We already know that you’re dating the Red Huntress!” his dad bellowed.
What.
“Yes,” his mom said curtly, “we do.”
Danny sent a look Jazz’s way that was more a cry for help than anything else, but she was just as bewildered. Their mom sighed.
“After ghost fights,” she said, “Jack and I still hang around the area just to collect extra samples or run a few numbers while the ectoplasm’s still fresh. But we also see you there, sweetie, talking with the Red Huntress or even riding around with her on her board going who-knows-where.”
Danny’s brain was short-circuiting. He was half tempted to check if dinner had been contaminated with ectoplasm, after all.
The reason he was hanging around with Val after ghost fights was because he had fought alongside her during the fight. And somehow, instead of figuring out his identity, his parents… figured out his love life? Sort of? He wanted to think it was a stroke of good luck, or - more likely - another case of his bad luck to be added to the file. How was he supposed to explain that he’s dating Valerie Gray, who was definitely not a vigilante ghost hunter, without giving away that he was definitely not a half-ghost vigilante ghost hunter, too? He got a feeling that Clockwork was laughing at his pain.
“What?” he says a bit too cheerfully, “No -pfft- come on, I’m not dating some masked ghost hunter! I was just there after ghost fights because, uh…”
His dad guffawed before slapping him on the back again. “You’re a riot, son! Maddie and I once saw you exit a janitor’s closet in your school after a fight with ol’ Red, the both of you looking pretty flustered.” The big man was waggling his eyebrows at Danny.
Danny wanted to phase through his chair and into the floor.
“Of course, we all know that proximity to ghosts and ghost fights is very dangerous,” his mom was all business. “If that girl is putting you at risk, sweetie, we’re going to need to have a very long talk with her. And you’ll need more combat lessons!” she added cheerfully. “I know you’re afraid of the ghosts, but if this relationship is turning your interests toward them, then…!”
And that was when Jazz intervened. “Mom, Dad! You’re embarrassing him, look!” She went on, “This is not the kind of conversation that is conducive to a healthy psyche, especially not when the subject is so touchy among boys his age. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants to leave the scenario you’ve created.”
He so owed her. “Yep! I’ll be going now, bye.” And if he used a little of his ghostly speed to get out of the dining room and up the stairs faster, no one would know. Except for Clockwork.
Clockwork was definitely laughing at him.
–
Danny started eavesdropping, invisible outside his parents’ door, in time to hear his dad sigh loudly with relief.
“I told you he couldn’t be dating Valerie, Maddie! The girl’s way out of his league!”
Danny had to hold back a scoff. Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.
“And the Red Huntress isn’t?” his mom challenged.
Danny pouted. Et tu, Mom? (Aha! A Shakespeare reference. He was so going to actually get higher than a passing grade this semester.) He was so tempted to barge in and loudly declare that he was, in fact, dating both of those girls. That girl. He sighed. There’s the problem.
“Even if she is his age - and so help me if she’s older - we’ve seen them meet up before and after ghost fights!” He could hear his mom’s light footsteps as she paced the length of the room. “What happens when ‘before’ or ‘after’ becomes ‘during’? You’ve seen how aggressive she is sometimes! She puts him in danger!”
Danny heard the creaking of a bed as his dad flopped down onto it with a sigh. “She’s probably swept him off his feet, too.” Okay, so maybe Val has rescued him a few times, even carried him bridal style once, but he’s saved her, too!
His dad continued, regardless of Danny’s wounded pride, “I know how hard it is to resist a force of a woman.”
Danny’s thoughts came to a halt. What was with that tone…
He heard the shuffling of sheets. “Speaking from experience, are we?” his mom asked with a chuckle.
“You’d know it, you were there,” his dad replied - and nope! That was about enough for Danny. He was glad his parents had a happy marriage but he did not need to hear how happy it was.
He retreated to his room, head buzzing with the mess he and Val had gotten themselves into.
Crud.
–
Danny had been trying for a week.
He’d flunked his English paper (the assignment wasn’t about Caesar, go figure), and he’d been dodging Valerie all week. A few months ago, he would’ve meant dodging her blasts and hits, but now he meant trying to get out of hanging out with her or - Ancients forbid - having her come to his house. It also meant that by virtue of not wanting to make Valerie feel like she was being excluded, he couldn’t have Sam or Tucker over, either. He was starting to lose his mind all alone in the house. And no, he was not going to Jazz for help about it.
Look, it was an embarrassing problem, okay? His parents disapproved of the relationship they thought he had with the ghost-fighting alter ego of his girlfriend because they thought it was reckless and put him in danger. And they knew about it because they’d basically walked in on their more… private moments. Letting them actually meet with Red and lecturing her on how to properly protect him and save him like the damsel in distress they thought he was for being so afraid of ghosts this whole time was a total no-go - he’d never hear the end of from Val!
He was trying to figure out why this whole situation felt so familiar when Jazz walked in on him pacing the length of his room. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “Can it. I don’t wanna hear it, Jazz.”
She pouted a little at that, then huffed. “If you’re not going to listen to my advice about healthy communication in all relationships in your life, just let me say that our parents are stubborn to a fault. If they latch onto an idea, they need solid proof to discount it.” She shot him A Look. “You know that better than anyone.”
She turned on her heel with a little ‘harrumph!’ and disappeared from his doorway, her orange hair swinging as she went.
Danny sighed, and tried to get back into brainstorming convincing arguments against his parents. He’d tried to completely deny that anything had happened between him and the Red Huntress, claiming that in this freaky town, it could’ve been ghosts! (You know, the ol’ reliable). He’d told them that at most, the Red Huntress was just a friend. Then his dad started to ask him why he blushed whenever they brought it up and started to tease him and… he lost that argument pretty soon after. He went for a partial denial after that one. He wasn’t dating the Red Huntress, they’d just made out a couple of times. Sort of like a fakeout-makeout, even. That one made his parents angry. “Son,” his dad had said with a distinct tone of fatherly disappointment, “I did not raise you to play with people’s feelings. If you’re not dating the Huntress, then–” “Just kidding! Haha, I meant that we weren’t dating at the time! Wait. I mean, we’re not dating!” Danny resisted the urge to put his head in his hands. That went well. He’d even considered outright telling them that he was dating Valerie and showing them proof, but he shut that idea down. What if they thought he was a two-timer (ugh.). What if they put two and two together for once and figured out that she was the Red Huntress? And he didn’t want to drag Valerie as proof over just to have her watch him either be very awkward with his parents or argue with them. Valerie had too much on her plate for her to be wasting her time in his family drama.
Wait, what was it that Jazz had said about ‘proof’? That his parents were stubborn and needed it to be convinced of something. Well, duh. They were scientists. Sure, though they had definitely dropped the idea a while ago, they used to be extremely biased against ghosts. They held onto the idea that all ghosts were evil so stubbornly that Danny was legit afraid to be around them in the beginning. At least they’d warmed up to Phantom lately.
But what proof did his parents need? They actually had too much proof on their side, evidence that Danny couldn’t refute.
Something green glinted in his peripheral vision, His head whipped around to look at it, and he found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror. In his stress, his eyes had turned that otherworldly green, a shade that seemed so out of place with his regular complexion and black hair.
Oh, right. There was something else that his parents were being stubborn about.
(Maybe it was related? Jazz could look into their family’s seemingly genetic stubbornness, but – she probably already has several papers on it.)
He sighed. He didn’t need to convince his family that he was dating Valerie, not the Red Huntress (because, hey, they were right for once. Sort of. And he didn’t want to ask Val to fake-date him or something, it’d just be too complicated). He needed proof to convince them that dating her was not putting him at risk.
He ran a hand across his face, and in the reflection he could see that his eyes had smoothly transitioned from green back to blue. He sighed. He was going to need to ask his sister for advice on this one.
–
Danny waited until the last second to dodge a glowing green ghostly cube of doom, stepping nonchalantly to the side in midair and watching the Box Ghost’s frustrated reaction with smug satisfaction. But he’s not ignoring the guy just to mess with him. He was just focused on someone else.
“Red!” he hissed. Normally, he’d love to just watch her during combat, because in the fruitloop’s words, she really was good at this, but he needed to talk to her. They were flying higher than some of the buildings around, but his parents were directly beneath them and for all he knew, they’d made a Ghost-Whisper-Detector-Inator or something.
“Oh, so now you wanna talk!” she replied, the distortion from her helmet making her voice sound more metallic and making her angry tone all the more sharp and unsettling. She grunted as she hefted one of her heavier canons onto her shoulder before taking a shot at the Box Ghost. Danny winced as the projectile hit its mark directly and the poor guy got launched a couple blocks down the road. The two of them sped toward where he’d crashed into a wall and blocked his exits, one of them on either side of him. It was way overkill and the Red Huntress was clearly fuming, but Danny couldn’t resist saying, “Guess you could say we boxed him in.”
He couldn’t tell if the groan that came from the Box Ghost was a result of his injuries or Danny’s pun.
Red came closer, pressing a finger to his chest. “I’m about ready to box your hide–”
Danny’s voice cracked as he interrupted her, “Yep! So, can we have this little lovers’ spat over there,” he pointed at a nearby rooftop that was just tall enough to give them some privacy from people on the street, “you know, where my parents won’t see?” He put his hands in the air as he floated away slowly, toward that rooftop. Behind him, he heard Red huff before the telltale humming of her board followed him there.
As soon as they alighted on the roof, the Red Huntress stored her board away and took off her helmet. Valerie’s long, brown curls billowed in the wind and Danny tried not to stare. The whole Technus-enhanced suit she used to have was cool and all, but it was a little creepy, especially since Technus had been so… involved in their first relationship. He much preferred this suit, made by Tucker and the rest of the team using both Vladco and Fenton Works tech. She crossed her arms. “Start talking, Ghost-boy.”
Danny blinked. That took him back to the good ol’ days of when she was trying to kill him - was he sure Clockwork wasn’t messing with the timestream or something?
“Right,” he started, “So, sorry for ghosting you this past week.” His eyes widened in alarm. “Pun not intended, pun not intended!”
She just scoffed and muttered under her breath, “Yeah, right.” But some of the tension left her shoulders, and he could tell that she was holding back a smile. He took it as a sign to continue. He’d been trying to figure out the best way to explain the whole thing, but in the end he just said, “My parents think you and I are dating.”
She cocked an eyebrow at that. “And is that the problem?”
“Sort of.” He reached for her helmet. “You see, they think you,” he gestured to the red helmet in his hands, “are dating me,” he quickly transformed and gestured to his human self. “They think you’re putting me in danger,” he sighed, handing the helmet back to her.
Valerie took the helmet back and his words in slowly. Then she burst into laughter. “They think that I,” she said in between chuckles, “am putting Danny ‘Protector of Amity Park’ and ‘Heir to the Ghost Throne’ Phantom in danger?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Danny groaned. He knew it. He was never going to hear the end of this. She was going to tell the rest of the gang using the groupchat that he was definitely not a part of.
“So that’s why they’ve been chasing me down all week, too,” she added, calming down.
“They’ve been what?” Danny felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over him. He’d been so caught up with trying to keep Valerie free from the stress that his family was causing him that he hadn’t even bothered to check in with her.
She shrugged. “Guess their shouts of ‘Something something my son!’ and ‘Stay away!’ make a lot more sense now. For a moment there, I thought they were tryna run me outta town.” She looked him in the eye. “Is that what it was like for you, y’know,” she said quietly, “before?”
Danny stepped closer to her, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorta.” He held her hands through her suit’s gloves and was happy to feel her give him a returning squeeze. “But that was before, and my parents have been harassing you all week. Are you okay?”
“They’ve been harassing both of us all week and we just didn’t know it,” she chuckled. “What idiots. I just missed you, is all.”
He sighed. Jazz was right (Jazz was always right), if he’d just communicated with his relationships or something… “Sorry,” he said again. She just nodded.
“So, what’s your plan?”
–
“You sure you’re okay with telling my parents?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s totally fine.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not like you already revealed my secret identity to my dad and got me in a lot of trouble.”
“Hey!” he protested. “It was one time…” he added guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.
She grinned and punched his arm playfully. “I know, I know. Not like I didn’t deserve it.”
He frowned a little. That was true, but he still felt like the action had crossed a line. If anyone knew the importance of a secret identity, it would be him. He reached for her hand and she accepted the gesture, holding his hand as they walked to the edge of the roof. “True,” he said. “You used to be pretty morally Gray.”
“You are lucky I love you, Fenton.”
He stopped just short of being visible to those on the ground and gaped at her. She was shorter than him, but she stood tall with all her confidence and an expectant smirk. There was a challenge in her eyes, even if maybe the effect was kinda thrown off by the blush on her cheeks.
“I love you, too,” he said, and she rolled her eyes as if to say ‘duh.’ “And I love that you won’t whoop my ass in front of my parents? Unless, uh, you wanna show me all fifty shades–”
Valerie pressed a quick kiss to his lips before he could finish that sentence. “I love you, but that won’t help you if I hear the end of that sentence.” Helmet back on, she pulled him by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him onto her board before launching them both off the edge toward his parents.
“There she is, Maddie! And Danny-boy’s here, too?”
“Red Huntress! Be careful with my son!”
Red guided the board smoothly over until they arrived in front of his parents.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” his mom greeted him as soon as he and Valerie stepped onto the street, “we already dealt with the Box Ghost that Phantom just left for us.”
“Now, Maddie,” his dad interjected. “The Box Ghost is small fry! Phantom trusts us with that kind of thing.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she conceded with a sigh. And– Danny knew that this truce was the longest one that had ever lasted between Phantom and his parents, and he knew that Jazz had beaten the anti-ghost bias out of them a long time ago, but hearing the way they were so quick to defend and accept his alter ego now was still jarring. In all this time, even if he didn’t realize it, he was already a lot more relaxed about his identity, not caring if he let something suspicious slip or sometimes even being careless on purpose. It’s just that his parents were too stubborn to see it.
“Speaking of the Ghost-boy,” his dad continued, “where’d he go?”
“We’ll deal with that in a sec,” Danny dismissed easily. He gestured to the Huntress behind him. She stepped forward as confident as ever, her hand outstretched for a handshake. “Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend, the Red Huntress.” He watched as his mom accepted the gesture easily, though somewhat stiffly, while his dad’s handshake threatened to pull Red off her feet. “But you also know her from somewhere else.”
On cue, his girlfriend took off her helmet, and Danny continued despite his parents’ shocked gasps, “Val, these are my parents.”
His dad was the first to speak up. “Damon’s girl?” He chuckled with delight. “I knew you were out of Danny’s league!”
“Hey!” he started, but Valerie spoke up for him instead. “If anything, Mr. Fenton, your son’s too good for me,” she said, looking back at him with big, green eyes. He shook his head at her, and put a hand on her shoulder.
“You can call him, Jack, dear,” his mom said. She’d taken off her hood and goggles and she was smiling softly at the two of them. “And I’m Maddie. It’s nice to really meet you.”
Danny and Valerie smiled at each other. “It’s good that I can tie a face that I trust to your girlfriend, Danny,” his mom said. “But! That doesn’t mean that she can take you around with her to ghost fights if we don’t set some ground rules first.” The older woman turned to Valerie. “I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but poor Danny’s been afraid of his own shadow since the ghost portal went up, you see.”
Danny’s dad nodded. “Gotta make sure our boy is looked after!”
“Actually,” Danny butt in, “I can take care of myself.” His parents went quiet and looked at each other. His heart was pounding.
“It’s good to be confident, Danno! But–”
“No ‘buts’, Dad. I haven’t been completely honest with you guys, and it’s not fair to ask Val to reveal her identity when my reveal is way overdue.” He looked down at the street, missing the way his mother’s hand traveled to her mouth and his dad’s jaw was set with knowing determination. Valerie’s hand found his and squeezed it reassuringly. He took a deep breath.
The rings of his transformation glided smoothly over his form. When he opened his eyes to look at his parents, he tensed for just a moment as his vision was filled with the sight of the two of them barrelling toward him. But then they both crushed him in a hug, and all the tension left his shoulders. Even Val was squished in here with him and he laughed wetly. “I guess you guys finally caught the Ghost-boy, huh? Guess you weren’t ex-specter that one!” Then everyone groaned.
After a while, they all pulled away.
“Don’t think we won’t be having talks about all of,” his mom gestured vaguely to him, then to themselves, “this.”
“Oh, sonny, there’ll be a lot of talking to do.” The man looked to his wife. “And I’m going to have to edit the ‘birds and the bees’ spiel a bit, eh? We gotta take into account all your ghostly biology, after all!”
“My ghostly…” Danny turned as green as ectoplasm. Val was as red as her suit.
“Dad!” he whined, making his parents chuckle.
It wasn’t perfect, but, eh. They’d figure it out.
–
“So, how did you end up thinking that Danny was dating the Red Huntress?” Valerie asked, and Danny choked on his mom’s mac and cheese. He glared at Jazz from across the table, and she tried her best to stifle a laugh.
“Well…” his mom started, looking at her husband with a knowing smirk on her face.
“Mom!” he said, accidentally flashing his eyes green.
“No ghost powers at the table, sweetie,” she replied without missing a beat. He huffed and sat back in his seat. He met Valerie’s eye and she had one eyebrow up in an expression that felt like she thought she should be amused, but she didn’t know why yet. Oh, she was going to regret that fast.
His dad picked up the story, “You know the janitor’s closet on the third floor of Casper High?”
#phic phight 2023#phic phight#danny phantom#valerie gray#team ghost#late post I am sorrrryyyyyyyyy#the title is from that one Heartstoppper song#gray ghost
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Clockwork didn't fix anything. Danny's parents, his friends, his sister, everyone was dead, and gone, and all he had left was Vlad. At least the older halfa was doing everything in his power to help him, with no nefarious plans at all.
Right?
--
5th fic for phic phight, and this one is a doozy both in word count and in prompt fills! This one is for: @underforeversgrace, @faeriekit, @scarletsakuraaa, and @shadowfaerieammy. The prompts used will be in the end notes, as always, but having said that, I do not recommend reading them until after reading the fic. You'll see why :)
Danny couldn't say when he woke up. It wasn't as if being awake was all that different than being asleep anymore. It didn't matter whether he was staring at the back of his eyelids or at the lavish canopy hanging over his bed, everything would still be the same. His friends would still be dead. His family would still be dead. And he'd still be in this stupid mansion with the second stupidest man half-alive as his only company.
Danny didn't have any right to complain. It was all his fault, after all. If he'd just been smarter. If he'd just been honest. If he'd just been better. If he'd just been anyone but Danny Fenton, future world renowned fuck up, than everything would've been different. Everything would've been better.
When Clockwork had first shown him everything with his other self, he hadn't really understood. He knew it would hurt, losing everyone like that. He knew it would hurt in the same way that you might know breaking a bone would hurt, before you ever did. A distant kind of hurt that didn't hold a candle to the real thing.
He remembered thinking that his future self was being dramatic in separating his halves. Or maybe it had been Vlad's manipulation, his desire to be the only remaining halfa causing him to force that Danny to become the monster he'd seen through Clockwork's time mirrors. As much as losing everyone would hurt, there's no way it could hurt that badly, right?
Laying here for what was probably the fourth day straight, Danny knew that he'd been wrong.
He didn't turn his head at the sound of the door opening. He didn't turn his head when he heard Vlad's footsteps, sharp and deliberate, crossing the room that was far, far too big for him. He didn't turn his head when he felt the bead compress under Vlad's weight. He didn't even turn his head when Vlad's face appeared over him.
"Good afternoon, Daniel," he said.
Danny didn't reply.
Vlad sighed. "Little badger..." he said softly, resting one hand on the side of Danny's face. It was soft and caring, two thing Danny didn't think was possible of Vlad before last week. "I understand you don't want to, but you need to eat. Even if its just some soup. I can have somebody bring it up to you, or I can do it myself, but I'm not going to sit aside while you waste away."
Even if that's what I want? The thought floated through Danny's head, hazy and distant, but he didn't say it. He didn't say anything.
Eventually Vlad's disappointed face disappeared from his view, and his footsteps retreated from his room. A few minutes later (or maybe it was an hour? Or the next day? Danny didn't know, and he didn't care) he returned. There was the soft sound of porcelain on wood, and then Vlad was sitting on the side of the bed again.
Danny didn't fight as Vlad lifted Danny upwards, so that he was sitting against the large, plush pile of pillows instead of laying on them. He watched languidly as Vlad lifted the bowl back off the bedside table from the corner of his eye, and set it gently in Danny's lap. "Come now, Daniel. Just a few bites. It's got ectoplasm mixed in, so you won't need any more than that."
Danny did not move.
"Your only other option is for me to spoon feed you myself, and I think we both know how you would feel about that."
That got Danny to move, if not actually start eating. He turned his head to glare at where Vlad was sitting. He was surprised to see Vlad's look of relief so clearly on display, but he pushed aside any surprise in favor of annoyance. "If you even think about it I'll bite you." His voice was hoarse, and he became suddenly aware of just how dry his throat was, and how sore. He didn't know how long it had been since he last talked.
"If that's what it takes for you to eat, than I will do it," Vlad replied.
Danny huffed, before looking down at the bowl in front of him. Calling it soup would be a stretch; it was nothing but clear broth. Despite this, the thought of eating it made his stomach churn.
He glanced back up at where Vlad sat watching him expectantly. The older man made no signs of leaving, and he was right; Danny really didn't want to be spoon fed. He wasn't a child.
Danny took the spoon in his hands clumsily, bringing it up to his lips and slurping the warm, clear broth. It stung going down, but as soon as he'd finished swallowing, he felt a little bit better. He let the spoon fall into the bowl again, ignoring the broth that splashed out, and he pushed the bowl away from him.
"There. Are you happy now?"
Vlad pursed his lips together. "You need to eat more than that, Little Badger."
"Why?"
"Because you need food to survive?"
"Too late." Danny slumped backwards into the pillow pile, letting himself slide back down to a laying position. His eyes found the same fold in the canopy he'd been staring at for the better part of a week on instinct. "If only it had worked right the first time."
"Daniel-" Vlad cut himself off before restarting his sentence. "Danny. I will not pretend to understand how you're feeling, but do you really think that your friends and family would want you to stay like this? Even your father-" His voice was surprisingly free from disdain, which was impressive for Vlad. "-would've wanted you to be happy."
Danny didn't reply, and Vlad sighed again. "I'm going to leave this here, for when you do decide to eat." He moved the bowl from Danny's lap back to the bedside table, and then stood up and made his way back towards the exit. "Please try, Daniel. If not for yourself, then for them."
The door was shut with a soft click, leaving Danny to his thoughts once more.
By the time he mustered the energy to sit up and grab the bowl, it had long since gone cold. That was okay. Danny didn't think he deserved a warm meal anyway.
---
Another week had passed during his stay at Vlad's mansion. A week of blackness, followed by canopy, followed by another fight with Vlad, followed by darkness. The only reason he knew it had been a week was because of the different foods Vlad had been bringing up. While the first day had been nothing but broth, the day after it had been proper soup, albeit blended together into a liquidy mush. The day after it had been all soft vegetables, and the day after that a small slice of buttered bread had been included.
Danny hated to admit it, but the food had helped. He still didn't want to be awake, or aware, or existing in general, but he felt less like he was on death's door again. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.
This time when Vlad came up to his room, Danny did turn to look at him. Unlike the previous days, he didn't have a bowl with him; he didn't have any food at all.
"Good afternoon, Daniel," Vlad said softly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed just like he'd done every earlier day. "How are you feeling?"
"Bad," Danny said. His voice wasn't ass hoarse as it had been the first day, but it still wasn't anywhere near good.
"I'm not surprised. Do you think you might be up for taking a short walk to the dining chambers?" Vlad asked. At Danny's obvious dismay, Vlad backtracked. "You don't have to, of course, but I thought that it might do you some good, to get out of the bed, if only for a few minutes. That way I can have someone come in and change the sheets, and you'll have a chance to stretch your legs."
Danny didn't answer; he didn't need to. He wouldn't be moving here anytime sooner. Maybe anytime ever, if he had his way. He would lay in this bed until he died, or until the world died around him. Whichever came first.
"Daniel, please," Vlad said. "If not for yourself, and not for me, than for the housekeeper that needs to get these stains out. The longer you wait, the harder it will be for them."
Danny didn't know enough about laundry to argue, but it sounded true. He didn't want to make things harder for anyone; he'd done enough of that already.
It was not easy for him to get out of bed. Even sitting up took as much effort as most of his fights did, and that was without really using his legs at all. Standing seemed like an impossible task.
He was about to let himself fall back to the bed, housekeeper be damned, but Vlad's hand caught him before he could.
Danny looked to Vlad, expecting to see ridicule in his eyes. It's what Danny deserved, after all. Instead, he was met with nothing but compassion and concern, and a second hand, wrapping so very gently around his wrist.
"Let me help you, Daniel."
Danny didn't have much of a choice. If he wasn't strong enough to get out of bed, he certainly wasn't strong enough to fight off Vlad. (And maybe, a small part of him wanted the help. A small part of him trusted Vlad, after everything he'd done. A small part of him just wanted to get out of this pit he'd dug himself into. Danny ignored that part.)
It was only with Vlad's help that he was able to stand, and even then, he fell right back down to the mattress. His legs were weak and wobbly, as if he'd never walked on them before, and black dots crowded his vision. He didn't want to try again, but Vlad was still holding onto him, ready to help him back up.
"I know you are strong enough to do this, Daniel."
Danny wasn't as certain as Vlad seemed to be, but there wasn't much he could do about it besides try again. This time instead of falling back onto the bed, he collapsed into Vlad's side. He clung onto to expensive suit purely out of instinct, nails tearing through the fabric.
He glanced up at Vlad, but was once again met with only compassion. "Well done, Little Badger. Let's go get you something to eat, shall we?"
The majority of the walk had Danny clinging to Vlad's side, legs shaking with every step. It was only after they'd made it a good few doors down, and the smell of herbs Danny couldn't name drifting from down the hall gave him the strength he needed to walk on his own, although Vlad kept a steadying arm around his shoulders.
By the time they'd arrived in the dining room, Danny was exhausted, and embarrassingly winded from such little effort. Still, Vlad didn't say anything, simply guided Danny to a chair before sitting down at the one at the head of the table.
"As I said, Daniel. I knew you could do it," Vlad said with a smile. Danny still said nothing, but Vlad didn't seem to care. He waved his hand, and a cart was pushed out by some invisible force. By the fact that Danny's ghost sense didn't go off, it wasn't just that they were invisible either.
"It's just magnets," Vlad answered Danny's unspoken question. "I have the controls under my side of the table."
"But then why the hand thing?" Danny asked.
Vlad smiled at him. "You know me. I cannot help a bit of dramatics."
Vlad handed out the food, a chicken noodle soup for Danny and something for fancier, and far less recognizable, for himself. Still, Vlad didn't eat, instead resting his head on his hands and watching as Danny fought with his spoon. He debated asking about it, but decided not too; it was too much effort.
The soup was good, and after only a couple of bites, Danny found his eyes falling back closed. He couldn't tell if it was because of the effort of walking here, or because of the soup himself. He didn't have the energy to fight against it, and before he knew it he was laying his head on the table, letting the black void of sleep consume him yet again.
He woke up several hours later, tucked comfortably into his bed with clean, fresh sheets.
---
It was now routine for Vlad to come and get him from his room. It wasn't always for food; sometimes it was get Danny to shower, or to watch a show, or simply to get him out of bed for a little bit. Rarely was Danny ever moving around for more than an hour, and never was it of Danny's own accord.
Not that he wasn't allowed to wander around; Vlad had made it very clear that Danny was welcome anywhere in the mansion, or on the mansion grounds, at any time. Danny just never was.
At least, he never was before today.
He wasn't sure why today was different; he'd woken up well past noon, when the sun was already starting to set, and been struck by such a strong desire to be anywhere but here that it was nearly suffocating. He'd practically run from his room, down hallway after hallway, never noting his surroundings longer than it took for him to figure out the next hallway, the next staircase, the next entrance.
It was only after he'd hit a dead end that he collapsed on the floor. He grabbed fistfuls of the soft, plush carpet underneath his feet, pulling them out in chunks and tossing them aside before doing it all over again. It wasn't enough. None of this was ever enough, he wasn't enough, just like he hadn't been enough to save them.
That's what he'd been running from, after all. That's what he'd spent the past weeks, the past month, the past however fucking long it'd been in bed hiding from. The fact that he wasn't enough. The fact that they were dead, and he wasn't, because he hadn't even been fast enough to die with them.
The carpet was barren now, nothing but the hardened glue the strands had been connected to, and Danny had no choice but to move his hands to his head, to his hair. It hurt, but it didn't hurt enough , it wasn't anything like they would've gone through, what they would've felt, what he should've felt instead.
He couldn't fight against the scream that bubbled up from his chest, even though he knew he should, that he needed to. He felt the way the scream tasted on his tongue, tangy and acrid and long overdo, even as his vocal chords vibrated in time with his core. He could hear the sounds of shattering glass and breaking vases, of wooden furniture smashing against the walls around him as he wailed but he couldn't stop it, just like he couldn't stop his fingers from pulling out his hair, just like he couldn't stop Sam and Tucker and Jazz and Mom and Dad and everyone from dying a horrible, horrible death and-
Warm hands met his, pulling them away from his head. Danny fought against it, scratching and screaming and crying as he tried to curl back in on himself, but it was no use; he was already exhausted, and clearly whoever this was was just stronger than he was. By the time they had succeeded at lowering Danny's hands to his lap, Danny was openly sobbing.
"It's ok, Little Badger," Vlad said, taking Danny into a hug. Danny didn't fight against it this time, burying his face into Vlad's shirt without a care for how his tears or snot would mess it up. "I'm here."
That was part of the problem though, wasn't it? he wanted to say. You're here and I'm here and they aren't. They aren't, and I am, and I should be dead in the rubble with them. I should be the one who died, so they could live, just like it was always supposed to be.
Danny couldn't say anything. His throat stung from the wail, and his eyes stung from the tears, and his head stung from the places he'd pulled out his hair.
It might've been an hour before Danny had cried himself out, maybe longer, but through the whole thing, Vlad had stayed their, holding Danny close and whispering soothing, meaningless words. It was only after his very last sniffles had died out that Vlad pulled away.
"Are you feeling any better?" he asked.
Danny shook his head. It was the truth; he wasn't.
"That's okay. You don't need to be. I will be here regardless."
It was disconcerting, hearing words that kind come from Vlad Plasmius's mouth, but then again Vlad had been nothing but sweet to him since he came here however long ago it was. There was a solid chance Vlad would've had to carry him up to the bedroom; Danny couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything about his arrival here; he could barely remember anything from his time here anyway.
Danny didn't flinch away when Vlad's hands came up to his face to rub the tears off of his cheeks, not until he noticed the deep gashes pushed straight through the pure black gloves and into his skin. Tiny beads of already dried ectoplasm sat beneath the cuts, many of them smeared into a faint pink sheen.
Danny pulled away, grabbing Vlad's wrists to inspect them. Vlad did not fight. "You're hurt."
"It's just a scratch, Little Badger."
Danny shook his head. "I hurt you."
"Just as I have hurt you in the past. You didn't mean to."
That was right. Danny didn't mean to. Just like he didn't mean to wreck the potted plant that sat in tatters in the corner of the room. Just like he didn't mean to ruin the carpet, to the end tables, or anything else. He ruined it all, just like he ruined everything else.
He felt his eyes burn again, but this time no tears came. All he could do was tremble in place, hands gripped into tight fists, making sure that his nails dug into his own flesh this time, not anyone else's.
"I've said something wrong, haven't I." He heard Vlad say quietly. "I'm sorry, Daniel, for whatever it was." A beat of silence, before he continued. "Would it help if I let you clean up?"
Danny had almost forgotten that was a thing he could do. This was a mess he could fix, a problem he could solve. He nodded once, quick and shaky.
"I shall go get some supplies, and then we will clean this together. You wait for me here. Understood?"
Danny nodded, and Vlad went off down the hall.
It would be nice, to clean up one of his messes for once.
---
"I don't understand why I need to do this," Danny asked. He was sitting on an operating table in Vlad's own lab, elgs dangling off the edge.
It was weird, entering it for the first time. He was struck with a horrible amount of deja vu, and once he'd fought that off he'd been overtaken by just how different everything was.
His parents' lab had always been messy, to an almost comical and definitely unsafe degree. wires and scrap metal and inventions in various points of construction littered every possible surface, and in some cases impossible surfaces as well. Despite the mess, his parents knew where everything went, where everything was. Danny could still remember the exact order of every single blaster and tool from when it was his turn to clean the lab, despite having not done it for... two, three months now?
Vlad's laboratory couldn't be more different. Not only was every surface visible, it was practically shining. Chemicals and instruments lined the walls on carefully designed hooks or holders, and there were no visible blueprints at all; Danny didn't know if they were holed up in drawers or if Vlad stored them somewhere else. Or maybe he'd given up inventing completely. He had been busy taking care of Danny these last couple months.
"Because you have been through a period of extreme distress, and its important that we monitor your health," Vlad answered, pulling on a set of gloves.
"I guess," Danny said, picking at the hem of his shirt. "But you're not a doctor."
"You are correct," Vlad said. "I do seem to recall a rather unfortunate accident while working on my PhD dissertation."
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's okay, Daniel. I understand being hesitant about this. But as the only other halfa, and with nearly all of the education required to be a doctor in this field, I would argue that I am the best person to do something like this with you."
"Right. Okay. And it's just a check up, like a normal doctor would do?"
"There are some other things I will need to test for," Vlad said. "But they will be a handful of scans, nothing more. The worst thing I will be doing is a blood test, and I will make sure you are well aware when that will happen." He turned back to Danny with a smile. "I try not to lie to you, Daniel. Not unless its necessary."
Danny trusted Vlad. It was still a novel concept, but he did. The older halfa had been almost unreasonably kind to him during his stay at the mansion, and hadn't so much as insulted his father more than once or twice. He'd done everything he could to help Danny, and had asked nothing in return. The least he could do was sit still for a quick doctor's visit.
They worked through the tests in near silence, Danny listening to the instructions the best that he could. It was only once Vlad had stepped to the side to wheel over a cart, something to measure the strength of his core, that Danny spoke. "In the other timeline, you'd built a statue."
Vlad stopped. A full, complete stop, as if someone had pressed pause on him. Danny had begun to worry that Clockwork was about to make another appearance before he started moving again. "Oh?" was all he said.
Danny nodded. "Where the... accident. Occurred."
"I suppose you are asking if I can do the same?"
Danny nodded again.
"I can see why you might think it's a good idea," Vlad said slowly. "But I will have to disagree."
Danny's heart dropped. He'd been sitting on this idea for a few weeks now, waiting for the perfect time to bring it up. He had thought Vlad would say yes; technically, he already had said yes, even if that timeline was no longer accurate. "Why not?"
"I just think that something like that is more likely to make you start living in the past," Vlad explained, just as slowly as before. "I know you have not told me everything from this 'other future,' but it is quite possible that doing such a thing encouraged your other self to do all of that, is it not?"
He hadn't thought about it that way, but Vlad did have a point. Maybe the statue had been a tipping point for the other him; had he gone back to cry over their makeshift, communal grave? Had he gone there so many times that he could fly the route by heart? That his knees were in a permanent state of bruised and muddy from the time he spent kneeling there.
Danny only hummed in reply.
"I suppose that does lead well in another topic I've been meaning to talk with you about," Vlad said, wheeling the cart over to where Danny sat. "I also don't think its a good idea for you to return to Amity Park."
Danny threw his head up to look Vlad in the eyes. "What? Why?"
"It will be much, much harder to avoid... sour reminders, so to say," Vlad said. He pressed some buttons on the machine, pointedly not looking at Danny. "It will be much harder to continue as you have been in the last few days, when you are faced with their passing again."
"But-" Danny swallowed hard. "But what if a ghost attacks?"
"Do you really think there hasn't been a single ghost attack since you first came here?" Vlad asked.
Danny's eyes widened in worry. He hadn't really thought about it, not between everything else he'd been through, but Vlad was right. The ghosts didn't take days off based on how Danny was doing before, and they certainly wouldn't now. With his parents dead, that only left Valerie and the Guys in White, and while Valerie may have been competent, she was only one human. The Guys in White were hardly worth mentioning.
Vlad rested his hand on Danny's shoulder and gave a slight, reassuring squeeze. "Relax, Daniel. I thought of this as soon as I saw what state you were in. I have used my connections to make sure that your town is perfectly safe from any harm. And, not to brag, but I do believe my precautions are just as strong as you are. Perhaps even more so."
Danny sagged in relief. "Oh thank the ancients."
"Actually, I think you should be thanking me," Vlad teased. "Now, straighten up. The scanner doesn't work as well when you're folded up like that."
Danny obeyed. It was a good thing Vlad had thought ahead like that; Danny didn't want to see what an Amity Park without a Phantom to protect it.
---
Things had been going well. Almost unreasonably well, for only a couple of months having passed. Living with Vlad had become almost enjoyable, and Danny was feeling good.
Maybe that was why he was flying back to Amity Park.
He'd realized, some time after digging himself out of the vat of survivors guilt and depression, that just because the most important people to him weren't around anymore, it didn't mean that there was nobody left who relied on him. He was Danny Phantom, Amity Park's number one line of defense against ghost attacks. He couldn't disappear forever, not until his town was safe.
He'd let himself stay out of the fight for long enough. Part of that time, he didn't have much of a choice; sitting up had been too much effort, let alone a proper fight. The other part, his fears had been assuaged by Vlad's promises to keep the ghosts out. As much as he might not approve of Vlad's methods, he knew that they worked.
That didn't mean he could just leave his home behind. He had a job to do.
And maybe, there was a large part of him that still screamed in agony whenever he saw a creepy book from Vlad's collection, or when he booted up Vlad's ancient computer, and his first reaction was to message Sam and Tucker. How the voice in the back of his head that encouraged him to go through the motions of self care sounded a bit too much like Jazz, or the lab Vlad did his check ups in, and how his initial reaction was always that it was too neat , not nearly enough life in it. That part needed... something. Closure, maybe, or maybe it just wanted to drag Danny back down into the depths of his despair.
Either way, Danny needed to get back to Amity Park. Even if only for a little bit. Even if Vlad didn't want him to.
He made sure to stay invisible as he passed the welcome sign to the city; he wouldn't be surprised if the Guys in White had gone a little crazy in his family's absence.
The city was in surprisingly good condition, for what he could tell. He couldn't say anything about the Nasty Burger's disaster site; even now he couldn't get himself to look at it, but everything else was almost exactly how he imagined it. There wasn't an abundance of ectopuses roaming the streets, none of his normal rogues gallery had take over the town, and the Guys in White had either gotten much better at hiding, or they'd not taken up the reigns as much as he'd expected them too.
It was nice, seeing just how well Vlad had kept his promise. If this was how well the city ran with him gone, maybe the fruit loop was right; maybe he could move on and stop clinging to the past.
Danny drifted aimlessly through the streets, keeping high in the sky to avoid any ghost scanners that may detect his presence. He didn't have a real destination in mind, and was almost surprised when he found himself floating above the park.
He was surprised when he saw a familiar red hat.
Danny blinked, then shook his head, then rubbed at his eyes, but the hat didn't disappear. Neither did the familiar figure whose head it was sitting on, nor the girl wearing far too much black for the warm, sunny weather.
It was Sam and Tucker, sitting on their park bench, just like they'd done a thousand times before the accident. They were talking animatedly with each other, and while Danny was too far away to hear, he knew them well enough to fill in whatever inane argument they were having by their gestures alone.
They were alive. They were here, and they were talking, and they were alive. Danny didn't care how, didn't care why, didn't care about anything besides getting back to his spot on the bench, empty besides them after months and months of tears. They were alive.
Danny entered a steep dive, not caring to keep his speed in check, the only thing on his mind being his friends smiling, happy, living faces. He would be back by their side in just a few minutes, back where he belonged.
And then he was. Danny Fenton, lazily slotting into his spot on the bench as if he had never been gone. As if the last few months hadn't happened. He was shoving papers into his purple backpack, complaining loudly about some English assignment he didn't want to do.
Danny Fenton sat on the bench, in his normal, human form, and Danny Fenton watched him, frozen in the air, invisibility hiding his ghost form from view.
The person on the bench was him, he knew it with a certainty he couldn't remember ever feeling before in his half life. That Danny was him, and yet here he was, still floating dozens of feet above ground. Something was horribly, terribly wrong, and Danny had a feeling that he knew exactly who was at fault.
---
Danny was sitting on a billboard, overlooking the perfectly intact Nasty Burger when Vlad- when Plasmius found him. Even though he was in his ghost form, he was a mess, nothing like his normal, distinguished self. His hair was a mess, and he moved with a twitchy, anxious quality that Danny had become far too familiar with over the years.
"There you are," Vlad said, the relief palpable in his voice. "I was worried about you, Little Badger."
Danny hummed, not moving his eyes from the fast food restaurant. "It's still standing."
Vlad sat next to him, close enough that Danny could feel how he kept his body tensed. "They must have rebuilt it."
"Right."
"Daniel, I understand that you've missed this place, but you can't just fly off like that," Vlad admonished. "If you had just asked-"
"I did ask," Danny interrupted. "Several times. And you said no every time."
"I didn't realize you would go to such drastic lengths to get back here. If I had known, I would've brought you."
Danny hummed again. "So you could make sure that everyone had a convenient reason to be out of town, right? So you could make sure that I didn't see anything that would ruin the lie you've built up?"
"Ah," Vlad said, any warmth and worry he'd had in his voice gone. "You saw them, then."
"Yeah, I saw them. And I saw the real Danny too. Because I'm not real, am I? All those tests, all those check ups, they weren't to make sure I was still healthy, were they? You were testing to make sure I wouldn't, I don't know, melt away or something, weren't you?"
Danny finally turned to look at Vlad. He was staring through Danny, pure red eyes unmoving and unfocused. "I really thought you had changed, Vlad. You've been so nice to me, and now I find out that everything was a lie? That I'm a lie? You let me go through all of that, just because, what? You were lonely? Was that it?"
"I am sorry, Daniel," Vlad said, voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you really think an apology is going to make all of this better?" Danny said, just barely shy of shouting.
"I'm not apologizing for that."
The pain hit all at once, a horrible, burning, piercing feeling that seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once. It was pure agony, coursing through his veins, a type of pain he only remembered from the portal. He couldn't stop himself from falling forward, straight into Vlad.
Danny clung to Vlad's arms, squeezing hard enough that he knew it would hurt, but he didn't care, couldn't care, not over the horrid pain he was going through. Distantly, he felt Vlad's hand on his head, carding hands through his hair so very gently, just like he had done a dozen times before. He couldn't tell at what point it stopped being hair and started being pure ectoplasm.
"Hurts," he slurred, his voice muffled and distorted as he choked on his own melting flesh and ectoplasm.
"I know, Little Badger," Vlad said, voice soft. "It'll be over soon. I won't let this happen again. I promise."
---
Vlad did his best to gather as much of the ectoplasm as he could. He wouldn't be able to use it again, of course, not with how tainted it would be from the dirt and debris on the sign, but he couldn't find himself to let it go. The ectoplasm would be placed in a vial in the lab, safely tucked away in a cupboard with the other failures.
He did his best to blink back the tears he felt gathering in his eyes. He'd gotten attached to this one; how could he not? It was so close to perfect, so close to success. If it hadn't been for this little trip, it would have been.
Vlad took a deep, deep breath. Next time would be different. He knew what to do now; this Daniel had given him the answer on a silver platter.
It would only be a matter of time before he got his son. His Daniel.
Only a matter of time.
---
Prompts used:
ScarletSakura - Danny finds out he’s a clone, what happened to the real Danny?
shadowfaerieammy - What if Danny's clone was actually identical to him?
faeriekit - Two Faced
underforeversgrace - It hurt. He always knew it would hurt. He didn't realize how much.
#danny phantom#danny phantom fanfiction#danny fenton#vlad plasmius#phic phight#tw depression#tw survivors guilt#tw self harm#tw hair pulling#tw manipulation#post tue
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God Only Knows
Everyone knows AU, but Wes doesn't know that everyone knows, and neither does Danny, because even though everyone knows, everyone also knows better than to acknowledge it.
For the prompts:
Everyone knows the connection between Danny Fenton and Phantom. To keep their town's hero safe, everyone pretends to be oblivious. Only this one kid doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. [From @vigilant-insomniac], and It's like Santa, the students of Casper High think. You know he's fake, just your parents playing pretend, and if Danny wants to play human, well. Who are they to ruin the fantasy? [From @uniasus]
This is a take on Wes I've never written before, despite having written quite a few Wes fics, and it was a lot of fun, I hope you like it : )
Read also on AO3
[Warnings for mentioned injuries, threats, and implied bullying]
Danny Fenton was dead. Everyone knew that.
After an accident in his parents' lab, he'd been rushed to the hospital and declared dead on arrival. He had an obituary in the paper, a grave. His death had even been announced over Casper High's PA system, and there had been a moment of silence, and all the science classes had done lessons on lab safety so that what had happened to him might not happen to anyone else.
Then, a couple weeks later, Danny Fenton was back at school like nothing had happened. Hanging out with his loser friends, going to classes, eating at Nasty Burger. Like he was still a regular kid. Except that beakers slipped through his fingers, and he kept walking through vending machines, and falling through the floor. Sometimes all or part of him would turn invisible, or he'd start floating a few inches off the floor and his friends had to pull him back down to earth.
Every time, he would look around in a panic, like he was hoping no one saw, and every time, those who had seen pretended they hadn't. It was Santa Claus, the Casper students reasoned. You knew he was fake, just your parents playing pretend, but it made them happy when you pretended with them. If Danny wanted to play human, well... who were they to ruin the fantasy.
Besides, no one wanted to be the one to remind him that he'd died.
Then the school was attacked by a ghost, and another ghost appeared to stop her. It was the ghost of a 14-year-old boy, wearing a Fenton Works jumpsuit. There was no mistaking that Danny Fenton, the dead kid attending their school, was also the dead kid protecting it.
But after a couple of days, it was clear that Danny himself still thought it was a secret, so everyone else silently agreed to let him keep thinking that. He'd been through a lot, and they didn't need to make it harder on him. Even Dash never brought it up—and he kept bullying Danny, for being week and unpopular, just to keep up the illusion that nothing had changed.
When out-of-towners started poking around, asking questions, everyone kept the secret. The strangers were clearly ill-intentioned, wanting to capture Danny for some reward. Even if he was deluding himself about still being alive, Danny was a good kid who protected the town. The least the locals could do as thanks was act oblivious to keep him safe. They were used to pretending, anyway.
Except this one kid didn't seem to have gotten the memo.
"Uh, yeah, I have some information on the ghost!" Wes called out to the Guys in White nosing around their school.
Kwan grabbed him, covering his mouth and dragging him around the corner before the Guys in White could see who'd called out to them. He felt something slimy on the palm of his hand and let go of Wes with a noise of disgust.
"What the hell!" Wes demanded.
"Did you just lick me?" Kwan asked, wiping his hand off on his jeans. "Gross!"
"Dude, you dragged me down the hallway! What gives."
"You were gonna spill to the Guys in White. You can't do that!"
"Just 'cause no one around here believes me, I'm just supposed to give up?" Wes frowned, crossing his skinny, freckled arms over his chest. "Somebody has to know that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom, I mean come on, it's obvious!"
"But if you tell the Guys in White, even if they don't believe you, they'll investigate him, and who knows what they'll do," Kwan pointed out. "Hasn't Danny been through enough? I mean," Kwan glanced around and lowered his voice before adding, "he died. Do you really want to make things harder on him after that? Don't you think he deserves a break?"
"Exactly," Wes hissed. "He died. He's a ghost. Ghosts are bad—and why are we whispering?" he added at a normal volume.
"You know that's not true," Kwan argued, keeping his voice low, despite Wes' complaint. "Phantom protects us."
"From ghosts that come through a portal he opened!"
Kwan flinched. Saying Danny had opened the portal was kind of misrepresenting the reality of the situation. Sam and Tucker had reluctantly told the story of Danny's death in the weeks he was gone, and it had been spread around pretty thoroughly before he came back. Everyone at school knew that he'd stepped into that portal and been completely fried. The portal turning on wasn't the part most people focused on when it was always immediately followed by 'while Danny was inside it'.
"I don't think you can blame him for that," Kwan said. "It was an accident."
"One that has yet to be corrected," Wes replied, his anger not fading. "Him fighting the ghosts doesn't stop them from attacking. If he really wanted to protect the town, he'd destroy the portal and stay in the Ghost Zone."
"What about the Fentons?"
"Who cares if the Fentons lose their precious portal when it's endangering thousands of lives!?"
"And you don't care if they lose their son, either?" Kwan demanded.
"So you do believe me!"
"You're a dick, Weston." He'd never called anyone a dick before in his life, but it seemed to apply here. "I don't care what you think, but if you try to hawk your theories on any of the ghost hunters around town, I'll make you regret it, and I'll bring friends, too. I've got a lot of them."
To drive home his point, Kwan shoved Wes against the lockers and glared before walking away. Gosh, that was so aggressive. Kwan hoped it had been okay. He didn't like doing it—he didn't even know if his face could hold that expression long enough to intimidate anyone—but if it kept Danny safe, that was what mattered.
At least Dash would probably be proud of him for it. Dash was always saying he needed to be more assertive to people couldn't push him around. Metaphorically, of course. Literally, Kwan was six feet tall and 190 pounds, even as a freshman, so there weren't many people who could physically push him around as it was. He didn't join the football team for no reason.
Thankfully, it did seem to work. Kwan had his friends—and he did indeed have a lot of friends, since he was a very friendly and likable guy—keep an eye on Wes until the outside ghost hunters declared the hunt a bust and skipped town. He didn't know whether Wes had noticed or not, but either way, he hadn't tried to expose Danny to them again.
Too bad that didn't last. A few weeks later, Wes went directly to the Fentons.
"No one else will believe me, but your son is a ghost!" Wes told them. "He's Danny Phantom!"
Jack and Maddie both froze. They knew.
They knew, and they had both agreed to pretend they didn't. They shot at Phantom, always aiming a mile wide, and shouted threats, and loudly declared their hatred for ghosts. They knew how it made Danny feel, but they also knew he still loved them. They were willing to do whatever it took to keep their son around, and they feared that if he were ever to tell them he was a ghost, it would be because he was moving on and they'd never see him again.
"Why... that's ridiculous, my boy!" Jack declared, a slight waver in his booming voice. "Our son can't be a ghost!"
"But it's true!" Wes insisted.
"Don't be silly!" Maddie cut him off before he could start listing evidence. She knew all the evidence. "I think we'd know if there was a ghost living under our own roof."
"But—"
"You should keep your utterly ridiculous theories to yourself, because you sound absurd," Maddie said. "Now, if you don't mind, my husband and I have very important ghost hunting to get to. Don't you have homework to do or something?"
Wes growled and clenched his fists in frustration but left them alone nonetheless. Clearly, he wasn't getting anywhere with him. And he wasn't getting anywhere at school, to the point where Danny had stopped getting anxious and had started openly antagonizing him about it. Didn't anyone else in Amity Park have eyes, he wondered.
But in truth, he was the one not seeing, because he didn't see that everyone else was on the same page about Danny being a ghost, and he was the one being left behind.
"Hey, Wes-toenail!"
Wes rolled his eyes as Dash stormed up to him with a disappointed-looking Kwan in tow.
"Jazz Fenton told Sam Manson, who told Kwan, who told me, that you tried to tell Fenton's parents about your stupid conspiracy theory!" Dash sneered at him.
"It's not a conspiracy theory," Wes said. "There would have to be more than just one person involved for it to be a conspiracy theory. A conspiracy theory would be like if I claimed everyone in town was working together to hide the fact that Fenton is Phantom," he was too busy rolling his eyes again to notice the look Kwan and Dash gave each other, "but you're not, you're all just a bunch of sheep."
"And you're a... a..." Dash struggled, grasping around his thick head for a comeback.
"A blackberry bramble!" Kwan finished for him.
"A blackberry bramble!" Dash repeated firmly, then turned to Kwan with a confused look. "A blackberry bramble?" he repeated again, this time questioningly.
"Prickly, invasive, and impossible to get rid of," Kwan explained. "Sam and I also talked about her garden."
"Oh, that's nice," Dash then turned back to Wes, hardened his expression and said. "You're like a blackberry bramble, and no one wants you around."
Wes raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Why do you even care? I thought you hated Fenton."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want him dead again," Dash pointed out. "His parents are ghost hunters, and they're always shooting at Phantom. What do you think they might do to Danny if they actually believed your bullshit theory?"
"Get rid of him! Because he's a ghost! You know, the creatures constantly attacking our town and putting us all in danger?"
"The fact that you actually seem to believe that is why nobody at school likes you," Dash told him plainly. "That, and your general annoyingness."
"Why do you all care so much about protecting a loser like Danny Fenton?!" Wes shouted, loudly enough that it attracted the attention of everyone else in the hallway not already listening, and he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "So he died, so what? It's the fact that he's still around that's the problem. Everyone seems to agree that they want ghosts gone until I bring up Phantom. A ghost is a ghost is a ghost, and all ghosts are dangerous, even the quote-unquote 'good ones.'"
He was breathing heavily when he finished his outburst, and suddenly aware of at least a dozen sets of eyes on him.
"That's enough, Wes," Kwan said after a beat. "Danny hasn't done anything to you, or anyone, and it's not fair for you to keep doing this, trying to expose him or... or whatever it is you're trying to do. You'd better cut it out. If this is a joke, no one's laughing, and if you're serious, then you're trying to take a real person away from his friends and family because of your own biases, and that's messed up, dude."
"Yeah!" someone down the hallway piped up. Micah, Wes thought her name was. She'd spit on his shoes when he tried to convince her of his theory.
"Enough is enough!" her friend agreed.
"You lay off Danny, he's already been through it this year already!"
Soon enough, every student in the hallway was chiming in their agreement, and Wes scanned the crowd, mouth agape, offended and outraged. When he turned back to Dash and Kwan, they both wore hard expressions. It looked weird on Kwan's usually jovial face, but it was clear they meant business.
"Whatever," Wes grumbled. He grabbed his math book out of his locker and slammed the door shut with a metallic bang. "You've made your point. I'll stop."
"Will you actually?" Dash insisted, raising a skeptical brow. "Or are you just saying that to get us off your back?"
"I will," Wes confirmed. "I don't need the entire football team and then some making my life a living hell. As long as Fenton keeps his distance from me, I'll do the same for him."
The warning was passed from Kwan, to Sam, to Danny, and in short order, Danny and Wes started avoiding each other. They barely so much as crossed paths anymore. Wes, begrudgingly, stopped trying to expose Danny, and Danny stopped teasing him for his failures, and it finally seemed like Amity Park's ghostly hero could go on protecting the town in peace.
But things weren't always what they seemed, and one day, there was a fight. At first, it seemed like a standard ghost fight, Danny Phantom versus some vampire-looking asshole.
Based on the banter, it sounded like this wasn't their first encounter with each other, so the civilians of Amity Park tried their best to stay out of the way and let Danny do his thing. Parents calling their kids inside, the group of teens passing by ducked into the alley, the one riding the opposite way on his skateboard crossed the street to hide with them, safety in numbers and all that.
Then the tide of battle turned, and all of the sudden, Danny was losing, badly. The enemy ghost had started coming at him with powerful blasts that broke through his defenses and left him reeling. Danny howled as he hit the street, hard, and in a flash of white light, his appearance changed from hero to dweeb, and regular old Danny Fenton laid unconscious in the road.
"You can never truly best me, Daniel," the enemy ghost said, but he didn't have time to monologue.
The teens in the alleyway had a plan, and they were coming to the rescue.
Sam Manson somersaulted into the street, Fenton Wrist Ray™ already armed and at the ready, and she laid down cover fire at the enemy ghost while Dash and Kwan ran out to grab Danny and drag him to the alleyway where they'd been taking cover.
"Guess you can't tell me I'm crazy now," Wes said, smirking triumphantly as the two jocks put Danny down gently on the ground, propping his head up on Paulina's folded up jacket. "We all saw him turn into Fenton, that's proof."
"Will you shut up, Wes?" Paulina snapped while Star checked Danny over, trying to assess his injuries. "We knew that already."
"What do you mean you knew?"
"Everyone knew, the whole time," Paulina reiterated with a derogatory scowl. "It's like, super obvious."
"Then why did you all treat me like I was crazy?" Wes demanded.
"Because you are," Star said. "Not 'cause you think he's a ghost—because, like, duh—but 'cause you kept trying to tell everyone. Some things should stay secret you moron."
"Why you even wanted to constantly remind the dead kid that he's dead, I'll never know," Paulina added.
"Plus, you constantly trying to expose him was putting him in danger," Kwan said. "Phantom is a hero, and you were trying to get him killed."
"He's already dead!"
"Yeah, we know," Sam jeered at him as she returned to their cover. "Everyone knows. But you're the only person in the whole town who's being a dick about it!"
"Hey, that's the same thing I told him a couple months ago!" Kwan told her, delighted. "I never called someone a dick before, but I did, 'cause he was being one."
"Good job calling him out, Kwan," Sam said, sounding genuinely satisfied. "It's good to hear that you're being more assertive and standing up for yourself and others."
"That's what I said, too!" Dash noted. "God, it's so weird that I actually agree with you on stuff now."
"Can we get back to the fact that you guys all knew the whole time that Fenton was a ghost and nobody thought to clue me in?" Wes said, looking around at the rest of them incredulously.
"Clue you in the Danny was a ghost?" Sam asked sardonically. "I thought you knew."
"No, that it was apparently common knowledge and you all just felt like making a fool out of me!"
"You wouldn't have looked like a fool if you'd just kept your fool mouth shut," Paulina pointed out.
"You—"
Wes was cut off when Danny groaned into wakefulness and everyone's attention instantly snapped to the ghost boy.
"Mn... ugh," Danny took a shaky breath and blinked his eyes open, quickly widening in shock when he realized how many people were leaning over him. "Uh... hello, citizens," he said, putting on a voice in the hopes they wouldn't recognize them. "Please, step back and stay away from the—"
"Danny," Sam said, "You changed."
"Huh?" He looked down at his hand and gasped. "I mean, I have an explanation for this. I was uh... being overshadowed?"
"It's okay, dude," Kwan told him. "We're not going to tell anyone. This'll be our little secret. Right, Wes?"
They all looked pointedly at the redhead, who opened his mouth to protest, and closed it again, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Yeah, okay," he relented, though his left eyebrow was nevertheless twitching in irritation. "Our secret."
"We just wanted to get you out of the line of fire before Plasmius took things too far," Sam told him. "You know I've always got your back."
"Thanks," Danny said. "All of you."
They gave him their smiles and their 'you're welcome's while Wes griped and grumbled and left the alleyway with his bike to finish riding home. Plasmius had flown off shortly after Sam started shooting at him. He was content in his victory over Phantom, and didn't feel the need to fight a powerless child like her, so the coast was clear for the rest of them to leave as well.
Sam said goodbye to Kwan so she could walk Danny home while the rest of them resumed their walk to the mall. Sam had been planning to split off before they got their anyway, she was just taking the opportunity to chat with them—mostly Kwan, whom she'd accidentally befriended during Danny's brief stint of popularity earlier in the year (his 'goth' poetry was awful, but they'd bonded over gardening and a love of animals)—since her house was on the way.
"You gonna be okay, Danny?" she asked, as they walked arm in arm so she could catch him if he stumbled. "You don't have a concussion, do you?"
"Maybe?" Danny said, squinting uncertainly. He shrugged. "I'll be fine. I always am. I'm still just amazed how lucky it was that the A-listers and Wes, of all people, were willing to keep my secret. It's gonna be all over the school, tomorrow, isn't it?"
"Oh, I don't know," Sam said vaguely. "Kwan's a decent guy, at least. I'm pretty sure they'll keep their word."
Danny scoffed in disbelief, but didn't voice an argument. The rest of the way to Fenton Works, the chattered about whatever topics came to mind, just to keep Danny from falling asleep in case he did have a concussion, and when Sam dropped him off at home, she held off her mournful expression until she had turned away so Danny didn't have to see it.
#dp#danny phantom#danny fenton#wes weston#dp kwan#dp star#paulina sanchez#dash baxter#sam manson#fic#things i wrote#phic phight#phic phight 24#everyone knows au#jack fenton#maddie fenton#light angst#full ghost au#sort of; it's implied anyway you can read it as full ghost au or not
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Snow Day
SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you
Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.
The human was still there.
…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.
The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.
Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.
That was so cool.
So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?
So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.
The human didn’t see him at all.
Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.
Tundra pounced.
And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.
He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.
There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.
…Oh.
“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“
“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”
Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”
The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”
“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”
The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”
“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.
“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”
“I’ve…never hunted before.”
Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”
The human hesitated.
“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”
The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””
“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”
The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.
Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”
There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!
And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—
And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.
Whoops!
#phic phight 2024#phic phight#faer fic#danny phantom#far frozen#I needed a yeti to look down at Danny and be like 'this is a best friend' and I needed Danny to look up and go 'this is...legit a baby'#no frostbite this time though check the previous instead#whoah did you know danny phantom was trending today you guys no way /j#no I am still not over the greenland shark nor fish eyes together we can COME TOGETHER AND APPRECIATE CULTURE SPECIFIC DELICACIES#HOLD MY HAND. WE WILL FIND WORLD PEACE. TOGETHER
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