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Chapter Text

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 0… all engines running… liftoff, we have-“

Danny groaned and pulled his pillow over his head, reaching an arm out to fumble blindly for his alarm’s snooze button. His fingers only found the dusty base of his table lamp and the smooth surface of his wooden bedside table. The alarm, unsympathetic to his clumsy search, continued blaring. The sounds of the Saturn V rocket thundered in his small bedroom. Danny groaned again and tossed the pillow across the room in frustration, finally opening his eyes. Brow furrowed, he looked at his table for his digital clock, finding only his lamp on an otherwise empty table.

Oh, right, he thought. He had moved it across the room the night before so he’d be forced to get up to turn it off. As much as the night owl in him wished he could simply float over and turn it off so he could easily doze back off, he couldn’t afford to sleep in today. His first day at Casper High School. He tossed the blanket off and made his way towards the alarm clock, turning it off.

Danny chuckled to himself, meandering towards the bathroom to get ready. That’s gotta be the first time I’ve hit “off” before “snooze.”

Danny normally slept in as late as possible, leaving himself an unrealistically small amount of time to throw on some clothes and make the bus. Usually, he ended up missing the bus to middle school and begged Jazz for a ride, now that she was 16 and had a car. That way, he could scribble something half-intelligible down for homework so he’d at least get a D rather than a 0.

Not today, not anymore, he thought, grabbing his toothbrush. You can’t afford to goof off like you always have, Fenton.  

Danny and Tucker had made a pact this summer – the best friends were finally going to start caring about their grades. Ninth grade meant high school, and high school meant GPAs that mattered. Ever since he could remember, Danny had always wanted to be an astronaut. He knew it was a long shot, but he figured that he could at least end up working somewhere in NASA. Tucker has confessed that he wanted to try and become a computer scientist. He always loved getting his hands on the newest tech – and he had decided that he wanted to be one of the people who created it.

Danny exited the bathroom and walked back to his bedroom, flicking the light on. He took a second to gaze at the poster above his bed – a glossy image of a satellite drifted among multicolored planets. Who’s ever heard of an astronaut with straight Cs? he thought as he reached for the outfit he had laid out the night before. Danny removed his pajamas and slipped his favorite long-sleeved NASA shirt over his head, followed by a pair of jeans. Danny glanced at his clock and smiled. He was making great time… he could even eat an actual breakfast instead of the usual random piece of fruit or bread he snagged as he sprinted out the door.

Summer was Danny and Tucker’s last hurrah before they really got to work. They goofed off, they hung out at the Nasty Burger, they raced their electric scooters around Amity Park. The friends figured they deserved it, after all the hard work they were about to put in. To top off their summer of fun, they had played a huge session of Doomed last night, their favorite first-person shooter. So what if they stayed up later than they planned? High school didn’t technically start until today. They had never faced anything like Casper High before, and it was about to be their most difficult challenge yet.

“Morning, Jazz.”

Jazz jumped, looking up from her book. She was so engrossed in the book she has just started, Surviving Adolescence Through Therapy, that she hadn’t heard anyone come into the kitchen. Usually, she was the only one up at this hour, just how she liked it. It gave her time to do a little extra studying or plan her next therapy session with one of the Casper High’s troubled youths.

“Danny? What are you doing up so early? At this rate, you’ll actually be on time for school.”

Danny shrugged. “Eh, you know. Early bird gets the worm, blah blah blah. Don’t wanna make you drive me like you always do.” He grabbed cereal supplies and sat down at the table with her.

A sudden change in behavior? Selfless behavior? Now this was interesting. Jazz closed her book, studying her little brother across the table. “Since when do you care if I have to drive you? You know, it’s actually easier for me now that we’ll be going to the same school.”

Danny avoided her gaze, looking anywhere but at her. Embarrassment? Nervousness? Jazz peered closer, trying to identify the emotion that was on her brother’s face. He’d never been good at lying, but he was stubborn. “Are you going to tell me, or will I have to tell Mom and Dad I saw you up playing computer games all night?”

Danny glared at his big sister let out a frustrated sigh with a shake of his head. Jazz smirked. It barely took any pressure to get Danny to say exactly what was on his mind.

“Just trying to be a little more responsible, I guess. Try a little harder, I don’t know.” His expression softened as he looked down. “You know I want to be an astronaut and… I don’t know, I guess I’m trying to not be such a screw up, and…” He trailed off, then looked at Jazz. “Don’t you dare tell Mom and Dad I said that.”

Jazz beamed. Danny had stuttered and stumbled over his words, as usual, but she understood what he meant. Their parents were always trying to force Danny to follow in their footsteps and take up ghost hunting, and Jazz was thrilled that he hadn’t given up on his childhood dream. “And screw with this newfound positive and productive mindset? Not a chance, little brother. Your secret is safe with me.”

Danny rolled his eyes and went back to his cereal. “Not like I have a choice, living with the queen of blackmail.”  

Danny lived closer to Casper High than his middle school, which meant he’d have to walk every day. At least it’s better than getting picked on by the jocks during the bus ride. He made his way towards the picnic benches outside the building, where he had planned to meet up with Tucker. Casper High was so much bigger than Danny had imagined. It made sense, since high school had more grades than middle school did. Everyone being so tall doesn’t help either, Danny thought, looking at a pack of what he could only assume were football players, decked out in matching letterman jackets.

Tucker was already sitting on a bench, typing away on his PDA.

“Hey, Tuck,” Danny greeted, plopping down on the bench beside his best friend.

Tucker set down his PDA and smiled. “Ready to become even bigger nerds than we already are?”

Danny chuckled and looked down at Tucker’s PDA with a pointed glance. “Not sure that’s possible, Tucker.”

“What, this? No way, Danny. This is state-of-the-art! It just came out last week! If that makes me a nerd, then I don’t wanna be cool.”

Danny laughed as Tucker gave his PDA a hug to drive the point home. “Hey, you been sitting here long? You seen Sam at all?”

Tucker gave him a look. “Sam? As in Sam Manson? Danny, she’s barely talked to us all summer. Even if we did see her, I doubt she’d wanna see us.”

Irritation flashed across Danny’s face. “C’mon, Tuck, don’t act like we don’t know her. She was probably just busy.”

He and Tucker had known Sam since second grade, when she first moved to Amity Park. Their friendship drifted on and off, and it was usually dependent on if they all had classes together. Danny and Tucker had shared interests that kept them close throughout the years… it’s not like any girl, especially Sam, would want to play an all-night session of Doomed, for example. But Sam seemed to change her interests at the drop of a hat. Last they heard, she had been getting into horror movies, which reminded Danny a little too much of his ghost hunter parents and tended to terrify Tucker (especially when they took place in a hospital).

It’s not like we need to have stupid interests in common to get along, Danny thought. We’ve been friends forever.

Tucker elbowed Danny, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, we know her sooo well.”

Danny stared at the girl approaching them. The girl had bangs shaped into a sharp “V.” Her velvet crop top was skin-tight, except for long flowing sleeves like Danny imagined a vampire would wear. Her black platform boots elevated her five inches off the ground, and Danny wondered how the hell she walked in them.

I’ve never talked to a goth girl before. She’s kind of intimidating… and hot. Danny steeled himself for Tucker’s usual barrage of lame pickup lines, but when he looked over, he saw Tucker held an expression of neutral indifference.

Tucker rolled his eyes at the girl. “You really think you can just walk over and hang out with us like it’s no big deal?”

The female student winced, her dark purple lips pressing together in a tight line.

Danny smacked his friend in the arm. High school’s barely started and a cute girl already wants to talk to us. What are you thinking!? “Uh, don’t worry about Tucker. He’s just nervous… for high school, you know. What about you, uh, what grade are you in? I’m Danny, by the way.”

The girl stared at him dumbly for a moment before realization flashed across her face. She quickly brought a hand up to her mouth to hide her laughter.

Tucker returned Danny’s arm punch. “You idiot, are you serious?”

The girl let her laughter out in full, big guffaws that contrasted her brooding appearance.

Danny knew that laugh anywhere. “Sam?”

“Jeez, I didn’t think I was that forgettable,” Sam replied, in between laughs. “I go to summer camp for a few months and now you don’t recognize me?”

Danny felt his face get hot. “How could I!? Your hair, your clothes, the stuff on your face… you look like a completely different person!”

Sam’s laughter died down, and she rolled her eyes at the teen with a smirk. “It’s called makeup, Danny. And my parents couldn’t control how I looked forever, you know.”

Danny didn’t know much about Sam’s parents, except that they cared way too much about their public image. All throughout elementary and middle school, they sent their daughter to school in brightly colored, frilly dresses. It wasn’t exactly “on trend,” and it usually brought on teasing from the other girls. It was a big reason Sam ended up hanging out with unpopular kids like Danny and Tucker in the first place.

But now… she was hardly recognizable. Sam had dyed her light orange-blonde hair and eyebrows jet black, both of which were now even darker than Danny’s. Her normally long, curly hair had been cut short and straightened. Sam used to come to school wearing pink blush and lipstick her mom put on her, which she detested and wiped off in the girl’s bathroom every morning. Now, she’d put something on her eyelids to color them dark purple, with lipstick to match.

Tucker elbowed his friend. “Dude, stop staring.”

He pulled his PDA back out and showed the screen to Sam, scrolling through pages of texts. “Too busy turning goth to respond to any of our messages?” He said with a huff. “Danny and I were trying to get ahold of you all summer!”

Sam sighed, returning Tucker’s irritated energy. “We couldn’t have phones at this stupid camp my parents sent me to. No electronics, nothing but Torah study and ‘wholesome youth bonding.’” She emphasized the last words with air quotes, not hiding her disdain. “You seriously think I would just flake on you guys? It’s not like I have any other friends.”

Tucker shoved his PDA back into his pocket. “So that’s it, you just hang out with us ‘cause you can’t find anyone better to talk to? You couldn’t have given us a heads up before you disappeared all break?”

Danny stood up. “Guys, chill out. I’m pretty sure the last thing any of us wants to do is get in some stupid fight right before we start high school.”

Sam crossed her arms. “Fine with me.”

Tucker let out an irritated sigh. “Whatever.”

Danny stepped between his two friends and put a hand on each of their shoulders with a sarcastic grin. “Great, I’m glad we solved that. Can we focus on something important now? Sam, what classes did you get put in?”

Sam brushed Danny’s hand off of her shoulder, glad he couldn’t see her blush at the contact. Heavy makeup has its perks.

Sam had lived in Amity Park for years, but suddenly she felt like the new kid again. She knew that she couldn’t come to school with a completely different appearance without idiots making stupid comments, but she didn’t expect them to come from her closest… okay, her only friends. It was a weird feeling to have people comment on fashion choices she made entirely on her own. It was easier to brush off insults and stares when they’re directed at an ugly dress your mom picked out. She kept her face in a neutral expression, careful it didn’t show her hurt. Maybe she was more sensitive than she thought.

Sam pulled out a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her black skinny jeans and held it out to Danny. “I have the same teacher for almost every subject, some guy named Lancer.”

Danny grinned and wasted no time excitedly unfolding her schedule to confirm. “Lancer in room 108, that’s who Tucker and I have, too! Come on guys, let’s go find the room so we have a chance at sitting together.”

Tucker’s prickly demeanor softened and he smiled. “Alright, I guess it’s better than sitting next to losers or something. You know, I hear there’s a kid in our class who won’t shut up about space travel, of all things. Wouldn’t wanna end up next to that guy.”

Danny playfully smacked Tucker’s head with Sam’s schedule before handing it back to her. “Couldn’t be worse than this meat-obsessed weirdo I know. He wouldn’t stop following me around all summer, and now I hear he’s trying to get straight A’s.”

Sam laughed. “You’re trying to get all A’s, Tuck? Since when?”

“Since high school. Our grades matter now, Sam. Danny and I talked, and we agree it’s time to get serious.” He stood up and flung an arm around his best friend. “Coding and space travel are competitive fields, you know.”

Sam blinked in surprise but quickly hid it with a sarcastic smile. “Good luck with that, you two. C’mon, we’re gonna be late to class.”

Her lazy, goofy friends had made some sort of studying pact? Logically, she knew Danny and Tucker would hang out all summer, even without her there. But she still couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. It was hard not to feel like a third wheel around those two, and now they were making plans for the future without her.

“This is the place.”

Tucker held open the door to Lancer’s room for his two friends, and they crossed the threshold into the next four years of their life.

Chapter Text

Students streamed out of classrooms into the hallways, free from the school day at last. Danny’s head throbbed, he’d never focused so much in class before, and the subjects were already a lot harder than middle school had been. Still, he was proud of himself. Just a few hundred more days of that garbage and he way on his way to college, where he could focus on the subjects he actually wanted to learn.

He smiled at Sam and Tucker, walking on either side of him. He was glad he got to go through the hell that was public high school with his two best friends. Even if they all bickered sometimes, he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

“So… I know I haven’t seen you guys in a while,” Sam began. “Did you wanna do something? Danny, I haven’t seen your house in a while.”

Danny cringed as he imagined his overbearing parents shoving some ghost-related invention in Sam’s face, babbling on about ecto-something-or-other.

“…Actually, Sam, Tucker and I were thinking about just comparing notes from our fifth period science. You probably wouldn’t wanna come, I know you’re taking advanced biology.”

Sam frowned. “It’s the first day of class and you guys already want to study?”

Tucker nodded. “Those As aren’t gonna earn themselves, Sam.”

Sam gave them a sarcastic smirk. “Alright, dorks. I’ll catch you two tomorrow.”

She waved goodbye and headed off in the other direction.

They watched in silence until she was out of earshot. Tucker gave Danny a look. “Dude, I know we wanted to give it our all this year, but they barely taught us anything today in science. What gives?”

Danny sighed. “I don’t know Tuck, maybe you were right earlier, about not knowing Sam. It just seems like… she’s changed.”

Tucker chuckled. “What gave you that idea, was it the platform goth boots?”

Danny frowned. “Tucker, I’m serious! She just seems so… I don’t know, confident? Cooler than us? It’s like she disappeared for a summer and came back a whole different person.”

“Danny, look. I know I was pissed at her earlier, but she knows us. Even if she’s changed, she wouldn’t come and talk to us this morning if she didn’t like us, right? Plus, she didn’t seem that different… besides the outfit change.”

“I don’t know, it just seems like a matter of time before she finds cooler, more brooding friends.”

“Dude, don’t be like that. It’s Sam. We’ve known each other, like, forever?”

Danny sighed. “I guess.”

“Look, man. If you’re really that worried, then-”

Beep beep beep! Danny pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Ugh, sorry… that’s Jazz. Guess she wants to drive me home.”

“That’s weird, she never offers to drive you.”

“Which can only mean one thing…”

Jazz flashed the lights of her little blue car at Danny, offering an excited wave as he walked up. The most formative years of his life had begun, she just had to get the details for her memoir.

Danny hopped into the passenger seat and carelessly tossed his backpack into the backseat. “Hey, Jazz.” He looked like he was already steeling himself for a barrage of questions, but she pushed ahead anyways.

“Sooooooo…?”

Danny huffed. “So what?”

“How was your day? Beats middle school, huh?”

Danny buckled his seatbelt and slumped towards the window. “I guess. Tucker and I have most of our classes together,” he offered.

Jazz exited the parking lot and turned out onto the main road. Typical Danny, barely sharing anything. “Nothing else? What about your other friend… Sam?”

“She’s fine, Jazz,” he snapped. “Everything’s fine.”

These were not the juicy details she was looking for, but she supposed she couldn’t be too surprised. Danny hated opening up. Jazz guessed she hated when her parents badgered her about her day too… but then again, they were usually trying to figure out which old classroom or desk was haunted. She put on her best Jack impression. “Did you see any ghosts?”

That earned Jazz a chuckle. “Yeah, Casper flew right through my fourth period. You should’ve seen him.”

Jazz feigned surprise. “An ecto-entity at your school? I knew the name Casper High wasn’t for nothing! Maddie, get the proton pack!”

Danny turned and grinned. “Don’t you mean the Fenton proton pack?”

“Now’s not the time for jokes, son, it’s only a matter of time before the Ghost of Christmas Past shows up, too!” Jazz shook her fist for effect.

The siblings shared a knowing glance before breaking character and falling into a fit of shared laughter. Jazz felt a sense of peace wash over her, the tension dissolved. The teens may not have too much in common, but they’d always have their insane parents.  Despite their college education, Jack and Maddie still firmly believed in the existence of ghosts, of all things. Jazz never understood why they couldn’t just apply their passion for inventing towards something more practical. They could help improve the world, but instead they were always down in that stupid basement making another ecto-whatever that never worked.

Obviously it would never work, you can’t use ghost energy if ghosts aren’t real.

“A-actually Jazz, about that thing I told you this morning…?”

Jazz looked over with a smile, encouraging him silently, afraid to say the wrong thing.

“Well, I’m taking this computer class with Tucker, and I didn’t really want to bother him, since that’s his best subject. But I already feel like there’s some stuff I don’t understand. I’ve never really gotten computers, outside of games. Uh…”

“Sure, Danny. I’ll even give you the family discount on my tutoring services.”

Danny blinked in surprise then furrowed his brows in disbelief. “Wha- you’re charging me!?”

“Hey, people pay good money for my tutoring! It’ll cost you for a whole year of my help.” She smiled. “Take one of my chores for a month? Say… cleaning the lab?”

Danny’s shocked expression softened at Jazz’s request. “That’s all? Psh, yeah, okay, deal.”

Danny grabbed his bag and headed for the house. He began to open the door for Jazz when he stopped dead in his tracks, face scrunching up into repulsion. God, it stinks in here. What the hell is that?

 “Danny,” Jazz said with light annoyance, pushing past him. “C’mon, go inside. What are you doi… oh my god.” She lifted the sleeve of her jacket up to her nose. “Mom! Dad! What is that?”

Familiar heavy thuds clamored up the stairs. Jack Fenton’s huge frame barreled into view, nose adorned with a clothespin. “Kids! Come quick! We’ve got it this time, come see!”

Danny and Jazz donned a matching expression of annoyance and shared a knowing glance. “Actually, Dad,” Danny started, trying not to breathe through his nose. “Jazz was gonna help me with some homework, uh, upstairs. Preferably with a window open.”

“Nonsense, kids, what could be more important than ghosts?” Jack marched over to his children and guided them towards the basement, oblivious to Danny’s newfound willingness to work on homework.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Our grades? College? Getting jobs? Not screwing up the delicate mental state of your maturing children by trying to convince them science-fiction monsters are real?”

“You’re right, Jazzy… good thing these aren’t fake monsters, they’re ghosts!”

The lab was even more chaotic than usual. Beakers filled with random neon fluids sat on the tables, intermixed with random failed Fenton inventions. Giant masses of wires and tubes were strewn all over the basement, connected to various machinery. They all weaved towards one place – the Fenton portal. Their mom was standing in the portal, focused on plugging sets of wires into various electrical outlets on the inside.

Maddie looked up at them. “Hi, kids! How was your day at school?”

She seemed unaffected by the stench that permeated the basement. She finished plugging the last of the wires in and exited the portal, removing her goggles and latex hood.

“Fine, Mom… can we get out of here? It smells like something died.”

“Aw, Danny, don’t be ridiculous! Here, if the smell really bothers you.” She pulled more clothespins out of her pocket that matched the one on Jack’s face. Jazz and Danny wasted no time grabbing one to block out the stench. “That was from an earlier experiment...”

Jack patted his kids on the shoulders, with more force than necessary (as usual). “Turns out ectoplasm samples aren’t meant to be mixed with… well, most things! Ha! Don’t worry, it’s completely safe. Probably.”

Jazz shoved Jack’s hand off of her. “Dad, there is no ectoplasm because there are no ghosts. Just because you found some random green goop… ugh, that doesn’t mean it came from a ghost!”

Jack laughed, loud and boisterous as usual. “Nonsense, Jazz! Your mother and I know ghost matter when we see it. Speaking of… today’s the big day! We’ve finally figured out how to access the Ghost Zone.”

“That’s riiiight…!” Maddie chirped, walking back over to the portal to fiddle with dials and gauges on the side. “It’s been 20 years since we started work on this, I’m so glad you kids get to see it in action.”

“Listen, guys,” Danny started, irritated. “You’ve tried this stupid portal a million times. How is this different?”

“Because, Danny, this time we have… this!” Jack announced, showing off a beaker with neon green fluid on the table.

“We’ve been using plain human electricity this entire time,” Maddie explained, finishing with the dials. “It’s so obvious in hindsight… how can you activate a ghost portal without ghost energy?”

Jazz sighed. “You guys have officially lost it.”

Danny looked exhausted, worn out by his parents’ constant failed experiments. “Ghost energy?”

Jack continued their explanation, ignoring his children’s remarks. “Now, we’ve never actually seen ghost energy, but we think we’ve finally got it. What better way to simulate a ghost’s life-force than combining electricity with the stuff that makes up all ghosts?” Jack picked up the beaker and gave it a swirl for effect – the viscous liquid seemed to glow for a second with the motion.

“Dad-”

“Now, who’s ready to fire this puppy up and see their very first ghost?”

Danny sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

Maddie pulled her hood and goggles back on and picked up a remote, while Jack grabbed an electrical plug and extension cord. “Hit it, Maddie!”

Their mom grinned and flicked two switches on the remote. A small machine on a nearby table rattled with an unnerving shake before quickly dying down. The thin metal tube attached to it seemed to glow, despite being completely opaque.

Whoa, Danny thought. Never seen that before.

The glowing aura spread and slowly crept along the long tube, eventually hitting the base of the portal, where the other end was connected. “That’s the ectoplasm,” Maddie explained to her kids. “Now that we have a steady supply being deposited into the portal… Jack?”

“Banzai!” Jack screamed, connecting the plugs in his hand with gusto.

The portal hummed, whirring to life as it charged up. Jazz and Danny shared an incredulous look. He knew they were thinking the same thing: There’s no way this garbage works… right?

The humming built into a mechanical roar. Danny felt a twist of anxiety in his chest.

“This is it, Maddie!” Jack shouted, ripping the clothespin from his nose. His parents held onto each other, clinging with intense anticipation.

The portal roared on. Small electric sparks began to flicker within the portal. Danny squinted, prepping for the explosion he feared was coming. He could’ve sworn the electric sparks began to take on a green tint, then…

Nothing. The mechanical whir died down as suddenly as it began, the sparks disappeared.

Another failure… of course.

Danny braved a glance at his parents. They were even more crestfallen than he imagined they’d be. They were still holding on to each other, staring at the portal, unblinking. Waiting for something else to happen. But we all know nothing’s going to happen. It never does.

Maddie was the first to break the silence, adjusting her goggles. “Come on, Jack,” she said, barely audible. Jack closed his eyes and nodded, allowing his wife to gently lead him by the hand upstairs. His footsteps, normally booming and energetic, marched up the stairs with muffled thuds.

Danny didn’t know what to say. A failed Fenton invention was hardly news, but he knew how much this one meant to his parents. He and Jazz both did.

“…Let’s go, Danny. We should give them some time alone. Still want help with that homework?”

Chapter Text

Jazz laid on her bed behind Danny, reading her new book. Danny typed slowly away on her computer, mumbling to himself as he worked through his homework. Jazz had always wanted to grow closer to Danny… she was buzzing with happiness. She couldn't remember the last time they'd just hung out.

The siblings used to play together all the time in elementary school – they'd usually play pretend games involving ghosts and science, making their action figures and dolls battle each other in supernatural fights… back when they idolized their parents and still believed ghosts were real. What kid wouldn't believe something when their parents swore it was true? Just like Santa and the Easter Bunny, ghosts were magical beings that the pair believed in despite any evidence.

But then you grow up, Jazz thought, sighing.

Somewhere along the way, right around when Jazz and Danny stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy, it hit them that ghosts were fake too. Except this one wasn't a lie to create childhood joy. Their parents truly believed that ectoplasmic beings lived in an alternate dimension. Resentment festered for their parents, how could it not?

Of course, I grew out of it quickly, as the mature one.

But it created a divide between her and Danny. When most of your interactions revolve around ghosts, what are you supposed to do when you realize it was all a delusion?

Jazz willed the thoughts out of her head. It was only a matter of time before she worked herself up into a fury, she knew. She always felt guilty when she got angry at her parents, it's not like they could help their misguided ghost beliefs, despite the negative repercussions it had on their children. Plus, they were so depressed about this latest invention. What kind of awful daughter judged her parents during a time like this?

Ugh, a classic shame-rage spiral!

At least she had labels for it. It was one of her favorite parts about psychology. She turned back to her book.

…Oftentimes, teens can develop distorted beliefs about themselves as they begin to form a unique sense of identity. Adolescence is a particularly delicate and tumultuous time for the human mind, as teens struggle for acceptance from their peers while simultaneously striving to differentiate themselves from the masses. Cognitive behavioral therapy helps address-

"Jazz, uh…" She looked up. "Never mind."

She shut the book and hopped off her bed to take a peek at Danny's work.

"What's up?"

"Well… okay, so," Danny picked up the piece of paper that listed his assignment. "I'm supposed to make the 'shell' of a website, I guess. And I've got the first part down, I think, but the title isn't showing up."

Jazz peeked over Danny's shoulder at the computer screen, immediately recognizing the error. "When you say 'title' what do you mean?"

Danny handed her the assignment sheet, pointing at the example webpage illustrated in the corner. It was a simple website that was supposed to list the student's name at the top with some colored text below. "I'm trying to get it to say 'Danny Fenton' at the top. But even though I wrote it as the title, nothing's happening."

Jazz fought the urge to immediately correct Danny, an impulse she always had during tutoring. Danny was clearly uncomfortable even asking for help, and no student learns by being handed the answer, but… the answers were usually so obvious it pained her.

"Why don't we look at your notes?" Jazz asked, hoping he wrote down the definitions of some XHTML terms.

Danny reached under the desk where he'd haphazardly thrown his backpack and fished out his notebook. He thumbed through it until he reached the page from his computer class and set it on the table between them.

Jazz was surprised… she'd seen Danny working on homework at the kitchen table before, and his notes were never this thorough. She smiled to herself, proud of the new leaf her little brother was trying to turn over.

Jazz pointed at the definition he'd written under 'title.' "So this is what you're trying to use at the top of your page, right? But what is this used for?"

Danny looked back at his notes and read them aloud. "'Title appears in the internet browser's title bar or page tab.'" He looked back at his work on the computer screen, eyes lighting up with understanding. "Oh, okay, here it is!" He pointed at the top of the PortalsXL browser, where his name was written. "So then…"

He skimmed through his notes for a few seconds before finding the tag he was looking for, confidently typing an h1 tag in the body section of his website. He refreshed, and his name popped up in large letters at the top of the web page. Danny gave a laugh of triumph and disbelief as he stared at the words. "I did it! I made a website! Jazz, do you see that? I-"

He stopped as he looked over at Jazz, who was beaming down at him with pride. He wiggled uncomfortably under her gaze, clearly embarrassed. "I mean, uh… thanks, Jazz. Pretty cool, whatever."

She laughed. "You don't have to pretend to be cool around me, little brother."

He rolled her eyes at her with a bratty scowl and turned back to his work. He may act aloof… but she could see the excitement still sparkling in his eyes.

"5… 4… 3… 2-"

Danny pressed the "off" button on his alarm and sat up. He was proud that he didn't have to keep his alarm across the room anymore. He was in his third week at Casper High, and he finally felt settled in to his new normal. It felt good to have such a regular, disciplined routine – and his grades reflected the hard work he was putting in. He'd gotten the results of four assignments back already… all As.

Danny laughed to himself as he got out of bed to get dressed. Pretty soon I'm gonna dethrone Jazz as biggest dork in the family.

He and Tucker hung out multiple times a week to study together. Danny was glad he was going through high school with his best friend by his side – he knew he would've given up the extra effort after day 1 if they hadn't held each other accountable. On the days they didn't look over their notes or study for a quiz together, Danny usually enlisted the help of his older sister. She may be a know-it-all, but she was always there to help him. He'd never tell her, but it meant the world to him. He also couldn't deny that it was nice to talk about something other than teasing their parents. They both felt too bad to mock their ghost obsession lately anyways – neither had gotten over the portal incident. Maddie had uncharacteristically thrown herself into the role of a housewife while Jack had taken up watching trashy TV. He only took his eyes off the screen when he was carting loads of ecto-junk from the lab out to the shed.

Danny glanced at the clock as he finished tying his shoes. Great, there's still time to eat breakfast and ask Jazz about that astronomy homework question I have.

He grabbed his bag and ambled down the stairs to the kitchen. As usual, Jazz was sitting at the kitchen table… only instead of reading or studying, she was glaring daggers at their mom. Maddie stood at the stove and looked over at Danny as he entered, an unnervingly large smile plastered on her face.

"Hi, sweetie! Would you like some pancakes?"

The discomfort Danny felt grew. As soon as Danny and Jazz were old enough to make themselves a bowl of cereal, they were left to fend for themselves in the morning. Now she wanted to make pancakes? "Uh… hi, Mom. Sure, I guess."

He sat down across from Jazz, eyes flicking between the two Fentons.

"Mom," Jazz said, annoyed. "Are you seriously giving up science and engineering? Just like that?"

Maddie's phony smile didn't falter as she turned back to the stove, pouring already-mixed batter into the pan. "Of course not, honey. Don't worry. Your father and I… we just need a little break, that's all."

"How could I not worry!? All you and dad do is talk about ghosts this and ecto that, now all of a sudden you care more about your pancake recipe? That's not the mom I know."

Danny caught a glimpse of discomfort flickering over his mom's face, disguised by the smile pulling at her lips.

"Jazz, honey, haven't you always wanted us to stop ghost hunting?" Their mom's voice sounded chipper, but the teens could hear her sadness beneath the veneer. "I've been debating restarting my thesis project from college – a form of self-generating energy. I'll certainly have time for it without all those… silly, useless, broken… pardon me… ghost-hunting inventions." Her voice strained, struggling to maintain the mask of positivity. She flipped Danny's pancake over with too much force.

Jazz softened and a smile grew on her face. "Well… that would be great, Mom. You could totally change the world with something like that. I'm… I'm sorry ghosts didn't work out."

Danny sighed, frustrated. Can't Jazz see how depressed they are? This argument was stupid – he knew his parents would be right back to ghost-hunting any day now. Maddie and Jack usually moped for a few days when a Fenton invention didn't work. Sure, they'd never sworn off ghost hunting before, and this funk was lasting a lot longer than usual… but Jazz definitely wasn't helping by fighting with them. They all just had to ride it out.

I guess I'll just have to ask Jazz about that homework question later.

Sam lingered alone by Danny's locker, which had become the trio of friends' routine meeting spot in the morning. Today, she was stewing in anger. Even though she'd been back in town for over three weeks, and she talked with Tucker and Danny every day during the school, they still hadn't hung out outside of Casper High.

Sam sighed to herself, scowling. I'm so sick of it.

She'd tried every method she could think of to see the boys outside of class, from gently offering study help to brashly inviting herself over to Danny's house. Every attempt was met with an awkward, lame excuse. Tucker and Danny were always either studying together or blowing her off.

She spotted Tucker walking through the crowd… odd. Normally Danny showed up first. Sam had mentally prepared herself to snap at him, but Tucker would do. They'd both been acting like idiots and assholes. Well… more than usual.

Tucker approached her with a casual smile and wave, which pissed her off even more.

"Alright, Tucker, spill. Why the hell have you two been avoiding me?"

Tucker avoided her gaze, immediately uncomfortable. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, no doubt in an attempt to look more casual than he felt. "Wha… what do you mean? We talk every day. No avoiding here, nope."

"C'mon, we both know you guys suck at lying. You've clearly been blowing me off! When's the last time we hung out? Last year? In middle school? What gives!?"

"You know Danny and I have been busy studying, uh… we wouldn't want… a girl to get in the way?"

"Are you serious? Tucker, I have all As and you and Danny both know it. That's a bullshit excuse… again. Now you better give me the real reason you guys don't want to see me, or I'm going to assume it's because you don't want to be friends anymore!" She was shouting now, pointing an accusatory finger at Tucker.

"Alright, fine! Just…" Tucker looked around the hallway. "Just don't tell Danny, I told you, okay?"

Sam gave a look around as well, scanning the faces for Danny. He was nowhere to be seen. She gave a curt nod, still angry… but relieved to have finally gotten through to one of them.

Tucker lowered his voice. "Normally I wouldn't want to give out his secrets, he's my best friend for crying out loud." Sam felt a pang in her chest, upset that either of them felt the need to keep things from her. You're my best friends, too.

"But this is stupid. Because I know it's not true," Tucker continued. "Danny's worried you're too cool for us now. That you changed your look and pretty soon you won't want to be our friend anymore. It's not like we scream 'dark and brooding.'" He gestured up and down at his outfit: his classic red beret, a bright red sweatshirt, cargo pants with oversized pockets, and Timberland boots.

She looked down at her own outfit in comparison: she wore a long sleeved fishnet shirt underneath a Dumpty Humpty tee, paired with a pleather techno-goth skirt and her favorite Demonia boots. Of course… all black.

"Tucker… you're right, that is stupid. I can just wear what I want now, how would that change who I want to hang out with? I like to skulk and lurk as much as the next goth, but you guys are still my friends."

"I've tried to tell him it's ridiculous. He won't believe me. It doesn't help that you like all this new spooky stuff now. He…" A smile grew on Tucker's face. "You know what? I have an idea."

Chapter Text

Danny caught his breath outside the Casper High doors, panting with his hands resting on his knees. He'd had to sit through the rest of Jazz's argument, then eat the pancakes his mom made for him. He didn't actually have time to do either, but he figured eating the pancakes may help cheer his mom up just a little bit.

I doubt I'll be getting an A in gym if I can't run a few blocks without dying.

He pulled his flip phone out of his pocket to check the time. Five minutes until class starts… goddamn it!

Danny stood up straight and bolted through the doors – he had just enough time to grab the books he needed from his locker, say a quick hello to Tucker and Sam, and dash to Lancer's.

He was surprised to see Tucker and Sam still milling around his locker. He skidded to a stop in front of it, wasting no time as he started entering his combination. "Hey guys, morning."

Sam and Tucker were smiling and sharing glances at each other. He'd have time to think about that later.

"Hey, Danny," Sam said playfully. "You know how I've reeeeaally been into ghosts lately?"

"What?" Danny said irritably, still breathless from the run. "Uh, yeah, Sam. Why?"

"Well, I was just thinking about how cool it would be if you showed me that awesome Fenton ghost portal your parents were always working on."

Danny opened the door to his locker and froze as he took in her words. He hadn't told them about the colossal portal failure a few weeks ago. "Uh… well, you see, the thing about the portal is-"

"Come on Danny," Tucker said, elbowing him with a conspiratorial grin. "What could be cooler to a goth girl into ghosts than a portal into an alternate ghost dimension?"

"Yeah, Danny, pleeeease? I'll promise not to touch anything. It'd be so cool."

Danny thought through it... on one hand, he parents would be pissed if they saw three teenagers goofing around their prized experiment – broken or not. But on the other, Tucker was right. The portal was pretty cool looking, plus his parents had been avoiding the lab like the plague. He doubted they'd scare Sam off with their overbearing rants about ghosts while they were in their funk. And since he was in charge of cleaning the lab for the next few weeks, nobody would think it was weird if he was in the basement for a few hours. Unless-

Riiiiiing!

"Dammit, we're late!" Danny grabbed the books he needed and roughly shoved them into his backpack along with his cell phone. "Okay, Sam, fine! You can see the portal! Meet me after class, but right now we've gotta go!"

Danny turned to rush down the hallway to Lancer's class, and could've sworn he heard the distinct sound of a high-five echoing behind him.

"In addition to Baudelaire's poetry, he was also particularly well known for his essays pertaining to modernism, a famous art movement in the 19th century. Matisse, Duchamp, and Picasso are all names you may recognize from this movement. In fact, he was actually the first to coin the term 'modernity,' which encompassed-"

Riiiiiing!

Danny watched as Mr. Lancer's face warped into a scowl at the interruption. Immediately, students started talking amongst themselves and packing up their bags.

"We will continue this conversation on Monday. Remember your short essays are due on Tuesday, everyone. Have a good weekend."

It seemed like nobody was listening but Danny. He used to rush out the door as fast as possible in middle school, but the teachers always repeated the homework during dismissal. Danny didn't want to miss that. He wrote the due date in the corner of his notebook so he'd be sure to remember, then packed his belongings up at a casual pace. Most of the students had already filed out of the room, his friends included.

"Mr. Fenton," Mr. Lancer beckoned, motioning for Danny to approach his desk.

Danny zipped his bag up and flung it on to one shoulder. He nervously walked up to his teacher. What did I do?

"Uh, hey, Mr. Lancer… what's up?"

Mr. Lancer looked the student up and down sternly. "I just wanted you to know… that I've seen your transcripts from middle school. I can see that you're applying yourself. You should know that your efforts are noticed, Mr. Fenton. That's all." His scowl melted into a tired, proud smile.

Danny blinked. He was used to teachers pulling him aside to punish him or talk about his grades, not give him praise. "Wow… I don't know what to say. Genuinely. Th-thank you, Mr. Lancer. Uh, have a good weekend?"

"You as well, Mr. Fenton. I'll see you Monday."

Danny left the room, pride buzzing in his chest. This so beats slacking off all the time. Sam and Tucker talked amongst themselves directly outside and stopped when Danny exited.

Tucker chuckled. "Dude, you have the dorkiest grin on your face right now."

Tucker was right – the smile was totally automatic; Danny hadn't realized he was doing it. Danny laughed along with him. "Yeah, well, this has gotta be the first time a teacher's actually had something good to say to me."

Sam and Tucker glanced at each other with a smile. "We're proud of you, Danny," she said, in a rare moment of calm genuineness. Tucker nodded.

Danny felt his cheeks heat up. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from them, enjoying the praise but unsure how to act. "Well… uh… thanks, you guys." He dropped his arm and looked back to his best friends, a wide grin on his face. "Come on, who wants to see a portal?"

The walk to Danny's house reminded Sam of old times… except now she wasn't wearing a multi-tiered tulle disaster of a dress. I swear, wearing the goth fashion I want to will never get old.

Sam used to show up at school looking like an over-decorated cupcake every day. Lace, pink, and hearts were commonplace. People were usually shocked when her demeanor wasn't offensively sweet and cute as well. The only thing she kept from her old wardrobe were a few pairs of colored tights and an ugly pink ensemble her mother refused to let her toss out, since it used to be hers from the early 1980s. It was even complete with matching legwarmers.

"…no, Tucker, I'm telling you, I know the flight simulator inside and out. You could drop me into a real cockpit and I could fly it, no problem."

"Danny, that's stupid! Real life is way different from a video game. I can cruise past level 1 of Doomed in about five seconds, that doesn't mean I could fight real monsters!"

"Come on, Tuck, it's basically the same. Neither of us have the hand-eye coordination to fight a monster, sure, but I'm pretty sure I could press some buttons inside a rocket."

"And what if…"

Sam chuckled quietly to herself, enjoying the normalcy of the walk. No awkward excuses, no social anxiety, just three friends walking together on their way home from school. She silently thanked Tucker for the idea to beg to see the Fenton ghost portal. Although she truly believed in ghosts, her faith in Fenton technology was… lacking. She fully expected to walk in and see the same un-working hunk of junk Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had been working on for their entire lives.

Danny fished for his keys in his pocket as they approached his house.

Sam looked up at the giant "FentonWorks" sign, wondering for the thousandth time how much unnecessary electricity it used up. "Looks the same as always."

Danny laughed. "Well, duh! It's only been a few months since you've last been over." He turned the key in the lock. "Hey, just a warning… my parents have been kind of… down lately. They may act kinda weird."

"Down? What's wrong with them?"

"I think it'd just be easier if I showed you. C'mon," he said as he pushed open the door.

Jazz sat in the living room, reading her book as usual. "Hey Danny, Tucker…" She eyed Sam up and down, then closed her book and walked over to the group. "Hi, I'm Danny's sister, Jasmine. Jazz." Jazz stuck a hand out in greeting.

Sam smirked and returned the hand shake. "Nice to meet you, Jazz. I'm Sam Manson."

Jazz yanked her hand away and stared incredulously. "Sam!?" She dashed back over to her book, thumbing through it, clearly looking for a particular entry. "A sudden appearance change…? Are you feeling alright? And with an outfit like that… depressed at all? How are your hobbies? Do you still derive joy from daily activities? How about-"

"Aaaaand that's our cue to leave. Jazz, they're gonna come hang out with me while I clean the lab. If you need us… don't." He led his friends towards the door to the basement.

"Good to see you again, Jazz," Sam said, deadpan. She was used to Jazz's therapist act by now. It had started as soon as Jazz was old enough to decide she didn't want to pursue ghost hunting and wanted to be a brain surgeon instead. Her obsession with diagnosing her peers had gone from quirky to annoying real quick.

Danny shut the door behind them as they descended the basement steps. Sam expected to find Mr. and Mrs. Fenton at the bottom… but the lab was deserted. "Where are your parents?"

"Honestly, either off sulking in their room or off sulking in the op center." Danny chuckled. "At this rate, they'll be more goth than you in a couple of weeks."

"What happened?" Tucker asked. "I knew they were upset another invention didn't work, but…"

Danny gestured towards the portal. "This happened."

Sam took the massive piece of machinery in. It looked significantly different from the last time she saw it – each piece of the internal circuitry was covered by sleek metal. Huge masses of tubes and wires snaked around the room, all connected to that giant device. Most significantly – the entire portal seemed to give off a faint glow from within.

"Whoa…" she said, approaching the portal. "Is it… glowing?" A thought occurred to her. She whipped her head around to face Danny. "Does this actually work?"

"Yes and no. The glow is the ectoplasm, supposedly. From what I understand from my parents, it's like ghost blood. And my folks tried to get it to work a few weeks ago. By creating 'ghost energy,' whatever that means. It was sort of successful, like it clearly started up… but then nothing happened. And when they couldn't get it to work, they just… quit."

Sam looked back up at the portal, which had to be twice as tall as her. "Ghost blood? Where did your parents get something like that?"

Danny shook his head, taking off his backpack and tossing it onto a nearby workstation. "Sam, they didn't. Ghosts aren't real, therefore, their blood isn't either. They probably just got scammed online or something."

Tucker gave a noise of affirmation, taking his pack off as well. "I see it with tech all the time. People sell phony knockoff parts to people who don't know any better. I wouldn't be surprised if there are people out there fooling ghost nuts, too."

"Whatever it was, it glowed, and they sucked a whole bunch of it into the portal. I guess it's still in there. Nobody's really touched it since my parents plugged it in."

Sam walked closer to the portal, followed by Danny and Tucker, until they stood at the entry. She wasn't even remotely interested in the portal when she originally asked to see it – after all, this piece of garbage had been sitting in the FentonWorks basement their entire lives. But seeing it shimmer with an otherworldly glow – she was enraptured. "Who are you to say ghosts aren't real? How else do you explain all the supernatural occurrences in the world?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Uh, as the son of the world's biggest ghost hunters, I think that makes me pretty qualified to make ghost-related comments."

Tucker piped in. "There are lots of ways to explain random events, Sam. Hallucinations, sleight of hand, technology. Everything has an explanation. Ghosts…? That seems like the most farfetched possibility."

Sam stepped over another large tube when Danny put a sudden hand on her shoulder. "What?"

"Sam, don't go near that thing. It could be dangerous."

"I thought you just said it didn't work. What's the harm?"

"Well… it just didn't quite work. When my dad plugged it in, it was whirring with this insanely loud motor sound. And whatever goop they injected it with is clearly still strong enough to glow through solid metal. It could be radioactive or something."

Sam shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I've been exposed to so many of your parents' weird inventions throughout my childhood that I'm bound to get whatever ghost cancer ectoplasm emits."

Danny slapped a palm to his face in frustration. "Yeah, well, I don't want you to get hurt, okay? I could never forgive myself. What if it explodes or something?"

"And what if it doesn't? What if we find what's wrong with it, fix it, and get to access a super cool ghost dimension?"

Danny groaned. Sam knew she was being annoyingly stubborn, but she didn't care. Another sign our friendship is returning to normalcy, she thought.

"Alright, fine! You win." Danny threw up his hands in defeat. "But I am not letting you go into that Fenton death trap. I'm pretty familiar with the garbage my dad makes… I should be the one to go inside."

He looked down at his clothes – a white tee shirt with a vintage rocket design on it, new-looking jeans, and his favorite red Converse. "But there is no way I'm going into the goo-filled hole in the wall wearing this. Can you guys help me look for a hazmat suit or a poncho or something?"

They all fanned out, looking through the many boxes and lockers in the Fenton basement. Sam decided to tackle the boxes haphazardly shoved under workstations. She ripped the lids off of a few… nothing but random tools or spare parts.

Tucker opened a locker and called out. "I've got latex jumpsuits in here… but I really doubt you're a women's medium or a men's quadruple XL."

Danny groaned. "I could probably fit into one of my mom's suits, but I'd rather walk around in my underwear than wear my mom's clothes." Sam heard a thunk and slide as he closed one drawer and opened another. "Can you believe my dad's already cleared out like a dozen boxes of junk? Why do they need all this?" He pulled a piece of random machinery out of a drawer and raised it above his head for his friends to see. "Like… what the hell even is this?"

Sam lifted the lid off of another large box to find it filled with random heavy black gloves and boots. Getting warmer…

She dug around in the box, pushing dusty gloves aside.

Jackpot.

Sam grabbed the white jumpsuit and pulled it out. "Danny, will this work?" She shook it up and down, sending thin clouds of dust into the air. The suit was mostly white, accented with attached black boots and gloves.

Danny laughed and ambled over, taking the suit from Sam and holding it up. "That's the old suit my parents would make me wear whenever I was helping them in the lab. It's gotta be from a year or two ago… I hope it still fits."

Tucker laughed. "You hope you still fit into clothes you wore when you were 12?"

Danny grabbed some gloves from the box and pelted a few at Tucker in retaliation. Tucker gave a fake scream and ran around the lab, dodging gloves from above and the tubes on the ground.

Sam laughed, reflecting once again on how happy she was that her group of friends was getting back to normal.

"Here goes nothing," Danny said, stepping a leg into the suit.

"Wait!" Sam interjected, taking her backpack off and digging through it.

Danny removed his leg from the suit, annoyed. "What? Sam, I just wanna…"

She pulled out her Polaroid camera and aimed it at Danny, snapping a picture. "Smile!"

Flash. She didn't give him a chance to actually smile or pose. Candid pictures were her absolute favorite.

Danny blinked, dazed by the sudden flash in his dim basement. "Are you sure you don't wanna go do something else now? We can go hit up the Nasty Burger like old times… besides, my parents could come down here any minute!"

Sam put her backpack back on and walked over with a smug smile. She flung an arm around her friend, the other clutching her camera and newly printed photo. "Nope, you know me, stubborn as always. Either you go in or I do. Besides Danny, a Ghost Zone? Aren't you curious?"

They all looked up at the portal together. "You know what," Danny said. "You're right. You guys know I don't believe in ghosts anymore, but… I mean… wouldn't it be ironic? 'Jaded teen discovers Ghost Zone.' Ha."

Danny slipped the suit on over his clothes, stepping into the feet and pulling it up to make it snug. He inserted his arms, then zipped the suit up the front, revealing a decal featuring Jack Fenton's face on the chest.

Sam and Tucker laughed. Sam stepped forward to pull the adhesive patch off the front. "Your parents really made you help out in their lab wearing this on your chest?"

Danny chuckled, embarrassed. "Uh, you can't call it a 'Fenton Jumpsuit' without a Fenton on it."

"Why do you even need to call it a Fenton Jumpsuit? Why can't it just be a jumpsuit?" Tucker teased.

Danny stopped and brought a gloved hand to his chin to think, as if he'd never considered that before.

Sam grabbed Danny by the shoulders and rotated him back towards the portal. "Alright, brave guy, tell us what you see in there."

He offered his friends a quick thumbs-up and stepped slowly into the portal. The glow of the ectoplasm embedded in the walls tinted his body a shade of unnatural green. Sam and Tucker could see him looking around the portal, examining the floor and walls. His silhouette faded slightly as he walked further into the cavern – the portal was deeper than Sam thought.

"What do you see?" Sam called out, trying to peer inside.

"Nothing out of the ordinary… I don't think th-"

Beep.

The inside of the portal was instantaneously consumed with light, illuminating the entire basement in a flash. Sam screamed and covered her eyes. She stumbled back from the blast, tripping over one of the large cables on the ground and landing roughly on her side. Her camera skidded across the floor.

"Sam!" Tucker shouted over the noise. She could barely hear him over the screech of the portal. His entire body was bathed in green from the harsh light. He ran over clumsily, grabbing her hand to pull her up. "He's still in there! Danny's still in there! What do we do?"

She stared back at the portal – neon green energy swirled inside angrily, filling the portal up. The portal's shriek faltered for a moment before resuming. Her eyes widened with terror. That was no machine. That was Danny's scream.

Chapter Text

Pain.

Pain so intense it blocked out all other thoughts except an animalistic desire to make it stop. It felt like someone was filling his veins with white-hot molten copper then striking him with lightning. It burned, yet it was so, so cold.

Danny's eyes squeezed shut against the pain and the blinding light. The inside of his eyelids were painted green with the radioactive glow. His closed eyelids slowly grew brighter, like the light was penetrating his skin. The portal whirred with a loud screech in his ears. He felt like he'd been trapped in here for years.

Please, just kill me. Just kill me. MAKE IT STOP!

His body fell to the ground with a thud, cutting off the screech. Danny wasn't aware he'd been suspended in the air. The portal was silent – he realized he had been the one screaming. His cry sounded so far away. Against his will, yelps resumed spilling from his lips. He wrenched himself onto his hands and knees and braved a look down at his body, ready to see his intestines spilling out, his skin burned off.

His suit was entirely intact – but something was wrong with his vision. It looked like his body was disappearing, flickering in and out of sight. He caught glimpses of his organs, of his bones. He grew lightheaded…

"Danny! DANNY!"

Danny blinked, peeling his face off the floor, realizing he'd fainted for a moment. The energy swirled around him like a vortex. He was so tired.

"Danny, answer us, PLEASE!"

He looked towards the screams. They sounded so close… yet so far away. He could barely make out the silhouettes of Sam and Tucker through the haze.

I just have to make it to them. I just have to walk over. I just have to… walk over.

He wrenched himself to his feet with a jerk. Spots clouded his vision as his body threatened to pass out again. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. The pain was unbearable. He flung himself towards the portal's entrance, stumbling forward and leaning on the metal rim.

His vision was blurred, still patterned with spots. An arm reached out and grabbed his, yanking him the rest of the way into the lab. It let go suddenly and he tumbled to the floor, landing on his back.

"Sam…? Tucker?" Danny asked, looking up at the foggy shapes of his friends, blurred by coils of smoke. "You're smoking… you're… you're on fire…"

"Danny? Is that you?" Tucker shouted. "Can you hear us? Are you… oh my GOD, Sam…"

"…I know, Tucker, I KNOW! What the hell are we going to do!?"

She kneeled down next to her friend, afraid to touch him… at least, what she thought was her friend. This… thing lying dazed in front of them stared up at the ceiling, eyes flicking around in disturbing, unfocused bursts. His eyes glowed the same acid green as the portal – there weren't any pupils in sight. The same neon color leaked from his mouth and nose. His muscles kept twitching and tensing, jerking his limbs around.

If that wasn't bad enough, tendrils of smoke curled around his body. She didn't smell cooked flesh, but the skin on his face was burnt and peeling back, revealing green-tinted flesh that oozed more of the green fluid.

Realization hit her. "Tucker…Tucker, isn't that… didn't Danny say ghosts bled that green stuff?"

Tucker stared down at Danny's twitching body, eyes filling with tears. "Are you saying he's… he's dead? My best friend is dead?" His voice shook.

Sam back-tracked. "We don't know that, I mean, he's right in front of us, right? Danny?" She grabbed his arm… only for it to disappear from her grasp in a cold wisp.

Tucker keened and fell to his knees. "He's GONE!"

Terror whirled in Sam's chest. She looked around the room in a panic, as if Danny could've dragged his broken body to some other corner of the lab without them noticing.

"Sam…" Tucker sobbed. "He's…"

Sam whipped her head back toward Tucker, ready to shout at him to get it together… but her eyes fell down to Danny, who had re-appeared as suddenly as he had vanished. He was flickering in and out of existence, gone one moment and fully visible the next, like a flashlight losing its charge.

Sam looked up at Tucker, trying to suppress the anxiety that threatened to block out all other thoughts. "We have to help him. Get him to his room, or something."

Tucker wiped his eyes, although tears were still freely falling down his cheeks. "Sam, he's DEAD. His body is probably still in that thing!" He flung an arm out, gesturing towards the glowing portal. "How are we supposed to help someone who isn't alive!?"

Danny's head rolled to the side, eyes still unfocused. He gagged. Thick green fluid splashed from his mouth onto his jumpsuit. "I'm… mmm… dead…?" His voice sounded inhuman, like he was being filtered through a static-filled old radio. It barely sounded like him. It was hard to understand.

Sam gently wiped some of the green substance leaking out of his mouth, careful to avoid the large burned areas that were already starting to blister. She tried not to think about how inhumanly cold his body was. Tried not to stare at the wounds on his face or the newly white, iridescent hair matted around his face. "No, Danny, you're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay, right? Okay? Can you hear me?"

He let out a weak groan and clutched his face with unsteady arms, pressing into the wounds. The neon blood soaked into his white gloves. "Can't… ow…please…"

"That's right, you're going to be just fine, Danny." Her voice warbled, tears pooled at her ducts, threatening to escape. She noticed with another wave of despair that he wasn't breathing.

You can cry later. Right now you have to help Danny… or what's left of him.

His eyelids fluttered. "I'm… guys…" His head rolled to the side, his disturbing eyes finally closed. He stopped turning invisible and seemed to solidify. She could still see the unnerving glow of his irises shining through his closed eyelids.

"Danny? Danny! Danny, come on. Come on, wake up!" Sam couldn't stop it anymore, she let out a sob. "Please, Danny."

"It's not like he can die twice, Sam!" Tucker snapped, hysterical.

"You think I don't know that, Tucker!?" Sam cried, tears blurring her vision. "Oh my GOD, this can't be happening…"

Danny's head dropped another few inches – it was obvious he'd passed out. Green goo leaked from his burns onto the floor. At least, mercifully, the smoke had stopped.

Tucker and Sam kept their eyes trained on Danny, crying silently, expecting him to disappear again at any moment. Instead, a bright light engulfed the center of his body, pure white, even brighter than the ectoplasm. They scrambled away from the ghost.

"Tucker, what's happening?"

The light expanded, circling his body in a large halo. He floated up from the floor as if he weighed nothing.

"Is he like… moving on? Do ghosts pass on or… find peace?"

"…Danny would know."

The ring split in two and the halves slowly began to inch towards his feet and head, moving parallel to his body. It was… changing the color of his suit. Sam remembered with a start that he'd entered the portal in a white suit, not a black one. The black suit was undamaged, but the white one was snaked with burns and jagged zips that cut through his clothes underneath and marked his skin… with red wounds, not green.

Sam and Tucker backed further away from their friend. Their eyes locked onto every transforming inch as the rings kept traveling. Finally, they reached the ends of his body, and he fell to the floor with a thud. Convinced it was safe, Danny's two best friends rushed over to his body, falling on their knees next to him. His hair had returned to the black shade he'd always had. The burns on his face were angry and red rather than sickly green.

"Tucker… he's breathing again."

Tucker put a hand on Danny's arm. "He's… warm. He was so cold when I pulled him out of the portal doorway."

"I felt it, too."

Tucker and Sam stared at each other. Unsure of what to say, what to think. Tears still ran down their cheeks.

"Sam? Tucker?"

Chapter Text

Jazz flung open the door to the basement stairs with a bang, pissed. Those three saw her trying to read on the couch. And do they care? No! They’ve been screaming like they’ve seen a ghost for like five minutes. She rolled her eyes at her accidental ghost reference. She’d been trying to avoid even thinking about ghosts.

She began to stomp down the stairs, studying the green glow shimmering on the walls with an angry glare. The trio was out of sight, but she heard Sam and Tucker screaming at each other. She couldn’t make out the words. They better not be messing with any of mom and dad’s stuff. Danny knows he’s not supposed to take people down there without them.

They suddenly grew quiet. Jazz hesitated, sensing the tension in the air. As much as she wanted to tell them off for shouting, it’d probably be more awkward to walk in on whatever immature fight they were having. Jazz really did like Sam and Tucker, and didn’t want them to view her as just the annoying older sister.  

“…He’s breathing again.”

Jazz froze, the fight-or-flight response rushing through her brain as she processed what she’d just heard. He… what?

“Sam!?” Jazz shouted as she began to dash down the rest of the stairs. “Tucker?”

She heard frantic movements, something being dragged across the floor. Sam clamored into sight before Jazz could reach the bottom of the steps. She looked absolutely terrified. Her breathing was haggard and rough. Tears glimmered on Sam’s face, her dark makeup had been smeared across both cheeks and down her chin.

Sam wiped her face, trying to remove tears but only dragging another dark streak across her face and onto her palm. She turned back towards the lab, her despaired expression morphing into anger. She stomped her heavy goth boot. “And I never wanted to be friends with you, either!” Sam turned back to Jazz. “Jazz, thank god you’re here. Get me out of here, I don’t know how much longer I can put up with these two.”

Sam strode forward and grabbed Jazz’s hand with force, leading her back up the stairs with heavy stomps. Jazz wriggled in her grasp. “Sam? What’s going on down there? I heard screaming… someone’s… someone’s not breathing?”

Sam’s grip tightened for just a moment, her muscles tensing. “Oh that?” She let out a bark of a laugh. Although Jazz couldn’t see Sam’s face, she knew it was devoid of any humor.

“Danny and Tucker invite me over and all they want to do is play that lame shooting video game. You know games, bad for the minds of youths, always filled with killing and dying…” Sam babbled.

They reached the top of the stairs but kept marching through the kitchen, towards the living room. Jazz pulled her arm with more force, finally escaping Sam’s grip.

“Sam!? Where are we going? I need to see what’s going on down there.” She pointed an accusatory finger at Sam, glaring. “You guys better not be messing with any of Dad’s stuff!”

Sam’s gaze avoided hers, flicking nervously around the room. “Um… uh… cannnn…” Sam’s gaze suddenly locked onto Jazz’s, her voice lifting an octave. “Can we just get some girl time? Pleeease? This is so embarrassing, but I don’t have any female friends. It’s just so hard to talk to boys about emotions and all the troubled thoughts I’ve been having. That’s why we were fighting down there.”

Jazz’s glare softened and everything fell into place. Oh my god, she must think I’m so pushy. I need to be the mature one here, and instead I’m yelling at a poor moody and depressed girl who’s clearly crying out for help… how embarrassing. “Of course we can, Sam… I’m sorry for shouting. Do you want to come sit on the couch and talk about it?”

Sam flinched. “Actually… um…I was thinking we could go to your room? I just… uh…I don’t want your parents to see me like this. It was already bad enough that Tucker and… Danny had to.” Her voice strained on her brother’s name, tears pooling at her eyes.

She must really be upset with him, Jazz thought. I’ve never seen them all fight like this.

A loud thump echoed from downstairs. Jazz turned her head, starting to look back towards the basement stairs. “Okay, but can we check on them first? I don’t want to leave them down there if-“

Sam gave a sob and brought her hands up to her face. Alarm bells blared in Jazz’s head.

Now it was Jazz’s turn to grab Sam by the hand (the wet, makeup-stained hand) and lead her upstairs to her bedroom. Tears ran down Sam’s face… Jazz couldn’t read the emotion. Embarrassment? Despair? Anxiety? Whatever it was, it took one look at Sam to know she had never seen an actual therapist, so Jazz knew it was up to her to pull this troubled youth out of the dark hole of depression. She knew her brother could be an ass, but whatever he’d done was clearly the straw that broke the camel’s back in this clinically depressed teen.

“Sam,” Jazz said with an air of authority, opening the door to her bedroom. “We will talk for as long as you need. Danny’s sister or not, I’m here for you. Can we talk about some of the anxiety you’ve been feeling recently? Any apathy? General discontent?”

Danny jerked into consciousness, eyes flying open. He caught a glimpse of Tucker before a blast of blinding light and cold air washed over his entire body, prickling him. His stomach churned. He rolled onto his side, weakly propping up his pained body with one arm. Danny squeezed his eyes shut. He vomited – his bile felt like ice in his throat and nose as it spewed out.

Tucker rubbed his back gently, an embarrassingly tender gesture he’d only tolerate from his best friend.

Danny kept his eyes shut for a long time after he was finished. Tucker stayed next to him, stroking his back in silence. Danny was still confused, lightheaded. He knew whatever he’d just expelled from his body… it couldn’t be normal. Not at that temperature. Not after what happened to him.

Tucker gave his arm a soft pat. His hand felt too warm, like he had a fever. “Danny… can you hear me now?”

Danny gave a tight nod, immediately regretting it. His brain felt like gelatin, sloshing around in his skull. He’d vomit again if he had anything left in his stomach.

“I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know how to help you, man.” Tucker rubbed his arm lightly. “Are you still in pain?”

“…Yeah.” He had to force out an answer. Danny’s voice rattled in his head. It sounded wrong, like it was echoing around inside of his body. Dread grew in Danny’s chest.

“So… ghosts wouldn’t feel pain, right? If they’re already dead?”

“What?” Danny choked out. “We need… get… my parents. Hospital…”

Silence filled the room for far too long.

“…I don’t…” Tucker sniffed. Was he crying? “…I don’t think that’s a good idea, Danny. Sam’s distracting Jazz, we should get you out of here so we can figure out what’s going on.”

Even NOW Tucker’s trying to avoid the hospital!? Danny’s eyes flew open, furious at the ludicrousness of the suggestion. He was greeted with a pile of neon glowing sludge inches from his face. His limbs burned in protest as he flailed away from it with a yelp, knocking into Tucker... then falling through Tucker.

Tucker scrambled backwards, landing in a sitting position a few feet away. His eyes locked onto Danny, tears silently and slowly dripping down his face.

Danny tried not to panic. He was hallucinating, wasn’t that a side effect of radiation poisoning? He forced himself up onto his hands and knees, then sat up, moving slowly to not upset his head again. He purposefully avoided thinking about the glow that seemed to radiate from inside his body, the intense pain that still consumed him. At least it was better than being inside that portal.

Inside… the portal…

Danny looked across the room at the angry, ominous green waves of energy spiraling inside the portal. “Tucker… I was in there?” He winced at the sound of his own odd voice.

Tucker gave a terse nod, futilely wiping the still-dripping tears from his cheeks.

Danny looked down at his glowing hands, rotating them slowly. The strange light was like someone had filled his skin with acid-green glow sticks. The same liquid was erratically splashed on his suit in various places. His vision played tricks on him – it seemed like his arms flicked in and out of existence in front of his own eyes. “My eyes and ears aren’t working right, but… at least I’m alive.”

Tucker stood up and quickly walked over nervously. Worry filled his face. “What? You can’t hear?”

Danny looked up at his friend. “It sounds like my voice is in a metal box or something. It doesn’t sound right… it might just be my vocal chords or something.”

Damaged from all the screaming, Danny thought darkly. “Like, I can hear you just fine. And my hands, my body… it looks like it’s lit up.”

Tucker opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was going to speak but hesitated at the last second. He’d finally stopped crying, but his cheeks still shone, reflecting the green light of the portal. Tucker offered him a hand. “Do you think you can stand?”

It would take a miracle. “Maybe with a little more help than a hand… sorry.”

Tucker bent down and scooped Danny’s arm over his shoulder and grabbed it firmly. “Dude, you are the last person who needs to be apologizing right now.” Tucker wrapped his other arm around Danny’s torso to support him, and pulled him to his feet.

Danny saw spots again, head lolling to the side. A bright ring of cold white light shimmered at his torso. The shock yanked him back into consciousness. Danny let out a surprised gasp.

Tucker’s eyes widened, searching his friend’s face. “You okay, Danny?”

Danny shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. “…Yeah. Thanks, Tuck.”

Tucker led them slowly to the sink in the corner of the room, the one his parents used to clean equipment and used beakers. Danny felt like he’d lived a thousand years in just a few hours (or was it minutes?).

Tucker stopped them before they reached the sink with the mirror hanging above it. “Danny… I just need to warn you.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your eyes. Well, at least not what you think. I’d just-”

Danny pushed away from Tucker, stumbling into the sink with a loud thunk. The pain didn’t matter. He had to see NOW.

Painfully bright glowing green eyes stared back at him in the mirror. They were shining so brightly that Danny could barely see the dark pupil in the center.

“Tucker… do you see…”

“Yeah, man,” Tucker said sadly.

Danny shakily brought a hand up and raked it through his snow white hair. He gave it a gentle tug – it was real, it was him. He noticed for the first time that his jumpsuit had turned black, but it didn’t seem burned… unlike his face. Erratic burns and blisters slashed across his cheeks. Danny was glad he couldn’t see the damage under the jumpsuit, but the surface of it had small splatters of ectoplasm. His entire body emanated light – nothing as bright as his eyes, but unnerving all the same.

Danny raised a palm to the mirror, planning on touching his reflection. Instead, a neon energy glow formed, circling around his fingers. It looked just like the portal. Danny whipped his hand back down in surprise – the glow disappeared as quickly as it had manifested.

He looked just like the monsters his parents had always taught him about.

“Tucker… what are we going to do? I…” Danny looked back toward the portal, tears springing to his eyes as everything fell into place. “I… died in there. What are we gonna tell my parents?”

Danny whipped his head back toward Tucker, pushing through the wave of dizziness. It was getting easier. “My parents. Tucker, I’m a ghost in my parents’ ghost hunting lab.”

“And now you understand why we need to get you the hell out of here.”

“How are we gonna sneak past my family?”

“Danny, you’re still out of it.” Tucker threw his hands up, exasperated. “I told you already. Sam’s distracting Jazz. I doubt your parents are home or they would’ve come running at all the screaming we were doing down here.”

Danny winced at the bluntness. “Okay, clearly the dead guy shouldn’t be the one coming up with the plans.”

Tucker stepped closer and placed his arms under Danny’s armpits, pulling him up with ease, as if he were weightless. Danny looked down – he hadn’t noticed he was slowly sinking right through the floor. His legs solidified, and Tucker placed him gently back down onto the floor. Green ectoplasm stuck to Tucker’s hands.

“Yeah, about that… there’s one more thing I haven’t explained. But let’s get out of here first.”

Chapter Text

Sam hated crying in front of people. But at this moment, she was thankful that the tears spilled out of her with no effort. The irony wasn't lost on her.

"I think we're making great progress here, Sam," Jazz said, scribbling down notes in the pad on her lap.

Sam wanted nothing more in this moment than to knock Jazz's annoying, self-righteous teeth out. Danny was in so much pain. Pain she caused. And Jazz was keeping her trapped in this stupid bedroom, bullshitting her way through a mock therapy session.

Jazz offered Sam what felt like her thirtieth tissue. Sam snatched it and blew her nose, tossing the tissue on the floor with the others. Why should she care? Her best friend was dead, and now she knew not even the afterlife could stop the torture of existence.

"Soooo…" Jazz started again, studying her notes with a professionally neutral smile. "This Skulk and Lurk bookstore, do you find the poetry sessions cathartic? Why do you like to attend these events?"

Because I like to hang out with people who don't act like the world is full of sunshine and rainbows all the time like you do. Sometimes people get hurt. People die. Kids die. For no reason at all. And that's so goddamn unfair.

"Uh… yeah, it's nice to write down some of these dark thoughts I have. When you say them out loud in front of an audience, it's a big release."

Absolute bullshit, Sam thought. She was just quoting this stupid art therapist that her parents tried to get her when she was younger. He'd encouraged her to write poetry and say it aloud to herself, but she doubted slam poetry at the goth bookstore was what he had in mind. After what happened today, she doubted she'd ever write poetry again. It all seemed so asinine. She let out another sob. To keep Jazz entertained, she told herself.

"It's wonderful that you aren't bottling up your emotions. It's healthy to find a productive way to release your frustrations. I think that the Skulk and Lurk sounds like a fantastic method of catharsis."

As if I'll ever be able to achieve catharsis. Who the hell would believe that I've seen the ghost of my best friend? Watched as he seized up in pain? That I've seen him disappear into thin air?

Sam heard the door to Danny's bedroom creak open, a sound she'd heard thousands of times.

"Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Jazz. It's just been so hard recently. I mean, you know… Danny, Tucker, and I used to hang out all the time, and now it just seems like all they want to do is spend time together without me there."

Not exactly a lie, but Sam's insecurity from the last few weeks seemed embarrassingly inconsequential now. She'd rather feel ignored for the rest of her life than live another second knowing that she killed her best friend.

Jazz put her pen on her lower lip, thinking to herself.

Sam heard Danny's bedroom door click shut. Come on, Tucker…

Jazz made another note in her book then looked back up at Sam. "When did you start having these feelings?"

"Uh… more intensely the last few weeks, but it's not like it's a secret those two are glued together at the hip. It feels like they do everything together."

"And what's wrong with that?"

Sam's tears continued to pour, her heart aching for her friend. She felt so stupid locked in this room with Dr. Jazz telling half-truths. "It just hurts that they're my best friends, but I'll never be close to either of them as they are to each other. No matter what I do, I'll always be the third wheel, the odd girl out."

Maybe we can talk about sexism next.

Sam's phone beeped in her bag. "Just a sec, Jazz," Sam said, wiping her tears.

The message appeared at the bottom of the long string of unanswered texts from Tucker. ALL CLEAR. MEET ME BEHIND THE SCHOOL.

"…Sam, is everything okay?" Jazz asked, leaning forward.

Sam fought the urge to scowl and instead gave a sad smile, nodding.

Jazz was looking for another emotional weak spot, just like always. Sam detested that she'd had to spend 30 minutes crying in front of someone like that. Not all sadness needed to be solved.

"Thank you for talking with me, Jazz. This was really nice. My parents just want me home. Can I use your bathroom before I head out?"

"Of course, Sam, anytime. Talking through your problems is good for you, plus… I can't deny it's great practice for my future!"

Sam grabbed her bag and quickly made her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Gotta make this fast before Jazz tries to check up on Danny.

It's not like Sam could run around Amity Park looking like she was wearing the world's worst KISS makeup. She wished she had makeup remover, but Jazz's face wash on the counter would have to do. No time to look for anything else. She tied her hair back with one of the bracelets on her wrist and blasted the hot water. Sam splashed it on her face, not bothering to adjust the temperature. The too-hot water stung, and her aggressive scrubbing didn't help.

This is nothing compared to what Danny had to go through. I'll never feel anything as horrible as what I made him experience.

Sam rinsed the soap off with handfuls of water and stared herself down in the mirror for just a moment. She was breathing harder than she had realized – she looked frantic, like an animal trapped in a cage. Her face, now devoid of makeup, flushed red from the hot water.

She didn't smell cooked flesh, but his skin was burnt and peeling back, revealing green-tinted flesh, oozing…

Sam squeezed her eyes shut, grabbed her bag, and bolted. Down the stairs, out of FentonWorks, down the street. She didn't stop sprinting. She couldn't. She needed to see him, to feel the burn (he was burning, trails of smoke curled around his damaged body) in her lungs.

Sam darted through intersections without waiting for cars to stop. Horns blared (the portal did nothing to muffle his screams) in protest at every crosswalk. She knew she was panicking but was powerless to stop it.

Finally, mercifully, Casper High came into view. She didn't slow down and darted around to the back of the school. All she saw were some kids running around the track… no sign of-

"Sam!"

Sam turned towards the voice and spotted Tucker sitting on the bleachers. He hopped off and jogged over to her.

"You're breathing really hard… did you run all the way here? In those boots?"

Sam looked down at her platform boots for a split-second, then back to Tucker. "Tucker, are you serious!? Don't you think there are bigger things to think about right now?"

Tucker held his hands up in front of him. "Relax, everything's okay… for now."

"How can you SAY THAT!?" Sam exploded, her rage getting the best of her for a moment. She lowered her voice to a hiss, not wanting to draw the attention of the track team. "We kill our best friend, and you have the audacity to tell me to relax?"

Tucker turned towards the school and motioned for her to follow. "This'll be a lot easier to explain if I can just show you."

Danny shivered. The blanket wrapped around his body did nothing to warm him up, but he was happy that Tucker had grabbed it from his bedroom before they left. He'd done it to cover Danny's glowing body on the way to the school, but right now, it served as a familiar comfort in a world that was suddenly so different… and he didn't want to look down at this foreign body right now. Instead, Danny watched his breath trail out of his mouth in clouds. When he was younger, he used to pretend he was a dragon when he was in the cold, with the power to breathe smoke. He'd hold his breath for ages so he could release the most gigantic puff of vapor possible. Playfully, Danny took in a big breath and held it, counting the seconds.

When he passed the three-minute mark with ease, he realized he didn't need to breathe anymore.

He let the breath out, feeling deflated and foolish. Maybe his body was just breathing earlier due to instinct, not biological need. Why does that make me feel so damn sad?

Knock knock knock…knock…knock…

That was the knock Danny and Tucker had agreed on when he left to go wait for Sam. Danny stood up from the worn leather sofa and trudged slowly to the door, thankful he could at least take these few steps by himself. He didn't want to think about how he had run to school this morning with relative ease. It felt like another lifetime.

Finally, he reached the door and inched it open, just to make sure it was really Tucker on the other side.

"C'mon man, let us in before someone sees us."

Danny swung the door open the rest of the way, relieved to see both of his friends. They hurried into the room, and Tucker shut the door behind them, re-locking it.

Danny took in Sam's bare face, a comfortingly familiar sight. She looked like her old self again, now that she'd removed all the black makeup. "Sam… thank god you're okay."

Sam blinked in surprise, then scowled. "You're thankful I'm okay? Danny, are you serious!? Look at you! We heard you… we heard you screaming in there. We pulled you out."

Danny forced a chuckle. Even worrying about him did nothing to quell her typical anger. "Yeah, uh, thanks for the reminder. I miss being trapped in the ghost portal already. Barely hurt."

Sam winced, and Danny immediately regretted his casual sarcasm. Pretending like everything was okay was definitely not the move here. But who knew how to act when you were coping with your own death?

"Sorry," she said simply. It was obvious she was trying not to cry.

God, you can be such an asshole, Fenton, Danny thought, kicking himself mentally.

"Anyways," Sam said, taking a deep breath to collect herself. "How did you guys even get into the guidance counselor's office? Jazz said Casper High hasn't had one in years. There's no way it was unlocked."

"Jazz is right – nobody has used this office in ages. That's why I figured this would be the best room to hole up in. It's also why we're not turning the light on. As for how we got in…" Tucker gestured to Danny's ghost with a flourish. "Dying has its perks. We just had to wait until Slimer over here turned all incorporeal, and he walked right through.

Sam squinted at Tucker, confused. "Incorporeal? What like… more than he already is?"

Danny was already feeling weak from standing – his bones ached. He trudged slowly back to the reclining couch and slowly inched into a sitting position, pulling the blanket Tucker had grabbed from his bedroom back around his shoulders.

"Definitely feeling pretty corporeal right now," he said with a humorless laugh, more vapor trailing out of his mouth.

It was a miracle he had made it the few blocks to Casper High. At the halfway point, he had passed out again, and Tucker somehow managed to lug his body the rest of the way to school. Danny knew they would both be sore for weeks, if not longer.

"No, it's different," Danny continued, looking down at his hands. "Like… I'm untouchable. I just walked right through the door like it was a hologram or something."

Sam walked over to him and crouched down, putting a too-warm hand on his glowing arm. Danny wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the new differences in temperature.

"You seem pretty touchable to me," Sam said.

Tucker laughed. "Jeez, touchable? Get a room, you guys, I'm right here!"

Sam removed her hand with a jerk, turning bright red. "So not the time, Tucker!"

Danny smiled. He used to notice Sam blush all the time, but he hadn't seen it since they'd started high school.

Sam frowned, blush deepening. "And why are you smiling?"

"What?" Danny tried and failed to wipe the grin off his face. "I'm not smiling."

Sam stood up and threw her hands in the air in frustration. "I can't with you two! This is serious! What are we supposed to do? Danny, what are we going to tell your parents?"

That got rid of his grin. "We aren't going to tell them anything."

Sam paused, clearly thrown off by his sudden sobriety. "Danny… you're their son. Don't they deserve to know what happened? What are we supposed to say when they find the… the body of their kid inside that stupid portal?"

"That's the thing, Sam," Tucker cut in. "I don't think his body's in the portal... I think it's right in front of us."

Danny faded from sight. The blanket remained in place, floating in a concave shape.

"Well… probably," Tucker amended. "Danny?"

A frustrated sigh came from the empty space above the counselor's chair. "Yeah, I'm still here."

Sam stared at the space Danny had been – an unnerving, unfocused look, from Danny's perspective. He'd never had someone look through him before.

"You know when he fainted on the floor in front of the portal?" Tucker continued. "His outfit and hair changed back, he stopped glowing. He looked just like the Danny we've always known. The same thing happened on the way to the school. He passed out, and that weird energy ring re-appeared. I had to carry him the rest of the way… he was like ten times heavier than before."

Tucker took a deep breath. "This is what I wanted to tell both of you. I don't think Danny is really dead."

"All of that doesn't mean anything, certainly not that Danny's alive."

"Sam, I felt his heartbeat."

Sam froze. That couldn't be true. The ghost of Danny Fenton was sitting right next to them, completely invisible. It couldn't get more ghostly than that.

"Ghosts have hearts too, Tucker. Danny even said that ectoplasm stuff is like ghost blood. How would it pump around without a heart?"

"Actually, uh," Danny's voice said, now coming from the ceiling. His blanket had slumped into a loose pile on the chair. Chunks of the popcorn ceiling sprinkled down onto the leather chair. Others hovered in the air. "I don't think they do. At least… I can't feel my heart beating right now. Your pulse isn't a feeling you'd expect to miss – weird, right?"

Tucker's mouth fell open in surprise. "Dude, are you flying right now!? You can fly?"

"It's a lot less cool when you're getting covered in asbestos. A little help?"

Sam held her breath to avoid inhaling ancient flakes of the ceiling and stepped onto the chair, wobbling on the uneven surface. She reached a hand towards the hovering chips and jumped in surprise when an invisible cool hand wrapped in hers. She stepped down, dragging Danny down with her as effortlessly as a balloon on a string.

She sat down next to him, still gripping his hand so he wouldn't float away. She took her other hand and found his wrist, pressing down.

"You're right… no pulse."

Tucker smiled and crossed his arms triumphantly. "You see? And I know what I felt. He was alive, Sam."

"But what good does that do us?" Sam snapped. "Let's say you're right. So then what, he's only alive when he's sleeping?"

"How ironic," Danny laughed. She felt his shoulders shake next to her.

Tucker dropped his smile, scrunching his face in thought. "Well… I don't know yet. But it's better than nothing, right?"

Sam considered this. "Yeah… I guess you're right."

Sam's hand suddenly clenched into a fist – it was like Danny's had disappeared into thin air through her fingers.

"Now, see, that's the untouchable thing I was talking about," Danny said, his voice echoing like it had been for hours.

Sam looked back up at the ceiling, searching for her invisible friend. "Can't we call it something else? Otherwise, Tucker's going to make jokes for your entire afterlife."

"I'm still next to you – no more floating, thank god. As much as I'd love to invisibly float out of the school and into the thermosphere. I think uh… I think only my arms are untouchable. Intangible."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Intangible? Okay, Mr. Thesaurus."

Danny laughed, fading back into sight. "Hey, I'll have you know I'm acing English right now!"

Knock knock knock. The trio froze.

Chapter Text

Danny kept his eyes locked on the door. The knob to the counselor's office rattled. Thank god we picked a room we could lock… way to go, Tucker!

"Hello!? I hear you in there, open the door this instant!"

"Is that Lancer?" Sam hissed quietly.

"Jesus, doesn't that guy ever go home? It's gotta be like 6:00 pm!" Tucker whispered, looking back at the door.

"Let the Right One In, how in the world did you get in there?" Mr. Lancer exclaimed, continuing to rotate the knob.

"Let the what?" Tucker asked under his breath.

The rattling stopped. "Alright, fine. I suppose I wouldn't want to reveal myself with the looming threat of detention, either. But when I return with the janitor and his keys, you'll have no choice."

Thuds echoed as Lancer stomped off down the hallway.

The trio looked at each other, wordlessly acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Even if Danny could avoid floating or disappearing in front of the vice principal, his eyes still shone like flashlights, not to mention all the wounds on his face.

"We've gotta move," Sam said, raising her voice back to normal volume.

Tucker walked up to Danny then turned around to kneel in front of him, offering a piggy-back ride. "At this rate, I'm gonna be buffer than the football players."

Danny hesitated. "Tucker, you don't have to-"

"Save it. We both know you're in too much pain to run, and this requires speed. I may have a C in gym right now, but I know I'm faster than a half-dead kid with a limp."

Danny nodded, mentally sending a silent thank you to his friend. He reached toward Tucker's shoulders to steady himself – and his hands sunk right through.

"Goddamn it!" Danny shouted, his voice cracking with the rising panic.

Sam looked between her friends frantically. "Can't you just, I don't know, turn it off or something?"

"Gee, Sam, thanks! Why didn't I think of that!?"

Tucker groaned. "Can you guys just shut up for two seconds? Lancer will be back any minute. Danny, unless you can turn invisible or something, we've got to go. Now."

Danny racked his brain in a frenzy, searching for any possible alternative. He found none.

This was gonna hurt. A lot.

Danny stood up quickly, hoping to warm up his body a little for the sprint ahead. His joints screamed in protest. His headache, which had dulled, flared back up with a vengeance.

At least I'm not fainting again, he thought, trying to ignore the ache in his legs and head.

Sam quickly reached over to steady him, then lowered her hands, doubtlessly realizing she couldn't do much if he was intangible. She grabbed his blanket lying on the counselor's chair instead.

"You ready to move, Danny?" Sam asked, her voice laced with concern.

Danny gave a humorless chuckle. "No. But it's now or never, right?"

Tucker gave a nod. "Sam, you stay in the back and keep an eye on Danny. I'll lead and make sure nobody's in the halls. Let's go!"

Tucker unlocked the door and peered out into the hallway. He opened the door further and poked his head out, looking the opposite way down the hall.

"We're clear," he whispered. "Come on."

Tucker took a left down the hallway. The soft, quick thuds of his boots echoed off the metal lockers.

Danny took a deep breath, preparing himself for the pain to come, trying to calm himself.

It's not like anything will ever come close to what I felt in the portal.

Danny took off after Tucker, wishing he could pull the blanket around himself like he'd done on the way over. He tried to jog down the Casper High hallways as silently as possible, anxiety swirling in his chest. What would they do if they were caught?

If he was caught?

Horrible thoughts rushed into his head. Captured, sent to the local ghost hunters for extermination. The glee in his parents' faces as they ripped him apart. It wouldn't matter if he told them the truth. They wouldn't believe him. He barely recognized his own face, how could they? They'd torture and study him until he was nothing but a pile of disgusting green sludge. Laugh at his pain. Then cry for their son that never came home.

Danny started gasping. Furious that breathing didn't bring the relief it did as a human. No oxygen, nothing but those stupid clouds of condensation.

But the mental torture couldn't compare to the physical. Sharp pain stabbed up his legs with every step. His weak knees buckled. Tucker said he weighed less as a ghost, but Danny felt like he was lugging a thousand pounds of dead weight. Sweat dripped down his face. It burned the open sores.

Tucker stopped up ahead where the hallway reached a T, slowly peeking around the corner. Danny sped up, desperate to escape the school, end the pain, be free from the terrifying threat of discovery.

Instead, his legs gave out.

His face and chest slammed against the filthy linoleum as he skidded to a stop. Sam's heavy boots thudded up behind him. He felt her arms scoop under his torso, and she pulled him up to his hands and knees.

Danny realized with dismay that he was tangible again. Couldn't I have turned solid, like, five minutes ago?

"Come on Danny, you've got this. You need to stand up, then we can carry you again."

Danny wobbled, lacking the energy to even rest on all fours. He began to slump back down to the floor before Sam caught him. He felt so dizzy – a cold, writhing sensation built in his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the nausea to no avail.

He vomited on the floor of the hallway – slimy and cold like it had been in the lab. He barely had anything in his stomach, the acid stung his esophagus. The cold sensation in his stomach swam up towards his throat and down to his feet.

His heartbeat pounded in his head, sending blinding pain with every wave of blood. His body felt uncomfortably hot all of a sudden.

He coughed and spit on the floor, praying his stomach was finally empty. He was mortified that Sam had to hold him during that episode.

"Tucker!" Sam shouted, excitement in her voice.

"Sam, keep it down," Danny hissed. "I'll be fine, just give me a second. You can let go."

"With how much weight you're putting down? Doubt it."

Danny heard Tucker dash over. "Okay, I honestly can't tell if this is the best or worst possible time for this to happen," he said at full volume.

Danny forced himself to sit up so he could escape Sam's grasp. His head lolled to the side, it felt so damn heavy. His friends stood over him, looking down at him with perturbing smiles.

"What is wrong with you guys?" Danny whispered. "Lancer could come back any second and hear us! We've gotta move!"

Tucker wordlessly fished around in his pocket and pulled out his PDA. He held it up in front of Danny's face.

"Tucker, what are you-"

Danny saw his face reflecting in the glass.

His face was still injured, no doubt about that… but it was his face. Normal blue eyes, black hair. No creepy, supernatural glow. He raised a hand to his cheek, avoiding the burned patches. Warm, even through the glove of the damaged white jumpsuit. Tears sprang to his eyes without warning.

"We have time to celebrate later," Sam said with a smile. "I'd still prefer to not get detention tonight. Plus, I think we'll have a hard time explaining that."

She nodded towards the pile of vomit on the floor, mostly comprised of glowing ectoplasm. It cast a green glow on the hallway.

Tucker shrugged, returning her grin. "Hey, the janitor is on his way over anyways, right? At least now he won't have wasted his time."

Sam shoved his shoulder jokingly. "Ass."

Tucker laughed and bent down in front of Danny, offering his back again. Danny saved his protests and weakly leaned into his friend. Tucker stood up with a wobble and a grunt.

"Tucker, do you want me to take him? You carried him all the way over here, right?"

"I'm good," Tucker said, nonchalant.

Danny felt Tucker's arms and legs tremble with the effort as he started to walk swiftly down the empty hall. Danny squeezed Tucker's shoulder in a silent thank you. He was already humiliated that Sam had to hold him up while he puked – if he had to get carried in public by a girl he'd probably die twice.

Sam held the door open for Tucker, noting the beads of sweat on his forehead. They all knew he was too weak for this, and although she never understood male pride, she knew it was usually more annoying to question it than to simply go along with it. Tucker quickly waddled over to the nearby bleachers and set Danny down with a loud exhale. The sun was setting; the track team had gone home for the night. They were alone.

"Just… let me catch my breath for a second," Tucker said, panting.

Sam covered her smile with a hand.

She took in the perversely normal sight of her two best friends. If not for Danny's tattered jumpsuit and the large burn marks on his face, this could be any typical day. Danny rested his elbows on his knees, leaning his head in his hands, joking around with Tucker. Tucker took exaggerated gasps for air, no doubt trying to make Danny feel better. From the looks of it, he was succeeding. Tucker could act dumb sometimes, but he had it together where it really counted.

It felt silly to worry about fitting in with her friends after all that had happened in the last few hours. They had something that would bind them together forever… in this life and the next.

"…You just wait, with all this strength training I'll be ripped in no time. Cheerleaders, here I come."

"You couldn't get a cheerleader if you were the Casper High quarterback."

Sam walked over to the bleachers and plopped down next to Danny. She noted his warmth, the breaths he took in when he laughed. Even the human blood that stained parts of his jumpsuit brought her relief. An incredible weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Things were far from okay – but there was no doubt in her mind that Danny was alive.

Partially, somehow.

She had no idea where they were going to go next. It's not like they could sneak into the Manson Mansion with her whole family swarming around – and she wasn't sure she was ready for her friends to find out about her wealth yet, anyway. She knew Danny and Tucker were still getting used to the new "goth" Sam, and she wasn't ready to drop yet another big change on the boys.

Sam waited for a pause in their conversation then wrapped Danny's blanket back around his shoulders. He wrapped it tighter around himself to cover the jumpsuit and gave her a grateful smile. Sam gave a sad sigh, noticing the green stains that wiped across the surface of the blanket.

"So…" she said, cutting off their brief moment of peace. "Where to now?"

Tucker stood up straight and nodded, getting back to business. "I figure we can go back to my house – my mom and dad won't mind if Danny spends the night. Sam, we can just sneak you in through the attic window."

"Why not just sneak us both in? Human or not, Danny looks like a mess."

"I figure it'd be easier to avoid them checking in on me if they know someone else is in the house. Not to mention they'll hear me talking to someone. So Plan A is hoping he conveniently turns invisible, Plan B is telling my parents that Danny signed up for the school play and is practicing his stage makeup. But… we all know how bad at lying Danny is. So I'm probably just going with Plan C: rush him upstairs and hope they don't ask questions."

"Hey! I'm not that bad at lying."

"Dude, please," Tucker said, shooting Danny a look. "Are you serious? Tell me the last time you got away with lying."

"Well, there was one… uh… hm."

"Exactly."

"Just give me a second!"

Tucker turned to Sam with an eye roll. "Plan C it is."

Chapter Text

Jazz picked up the last of the mascara-stained tissues that were scattered around her room and tossed them into the trash can by her desk. She felt accomplished – her progress with Sam tonight had really boosted her confidence as an amateur psychiatrist.

Jazz glanced at the clock on her computer – 8:27 pm. She nodded to herself, figuring that it was time to see Danny. She'd wanted to give him enough space to calm down after that big fight with Sam. She knew he'd never talk to her if she tried while he was still worked up. She left her bedroom and mentally prepared herself to give the next round of therapy.

Jazz had heard Danny go into his room while she was talking with Sam, and she was sure that Tucker had to have left by now – there hadn't been a peep for hours.

Jazz knocked on his bedroom door. "Danny? Can I come in?"

No response. She peered at the gap under his door – it seemed totally dark inside. Maybe he decided to take a nap to cool off.

Jazz knew Danny would get mad if she came in without permission, but she couldn't help herself.

She turned the knob as silently as she could to avoid waking him and pushed the door open, peeking her head in. The room was pitch black except for the red glow of Danny's digital alarm clock and…

What the hell is that?

She pushed the door open the rest of the way and flicked on the light. Her brow furrowed. Odd, she didn't see anything on the bed with the light on. Danny's blanket was missing – the bed was empty except for a lone pillow. Potential scenarios ran through Jazz's head as she analyzed the situation. Why would Danny's bedding be missing, her brother nowhere to be found? It wasn't like him to just leave without telling anyone. Not to mention whatever was on his sheets… Jazz sighed, frustrated. She hated mysteries.

She turned the light back off… there it was.

Faint, glowing green streaks smeared across Danny's bedsheet.

Jazz walked over in the dark to get a closer look, thankful that Danny had recently started cleaning his room so she didn't have to avoid the usual piles of clothes and garbage. She rubbed at the marks, but they stayed put. The chalky texture felt foreign on her fingertips. This must have dried hours ago, at least. It looked like the inside of a glow stick, or…

That goop Dad was messing with a few weeks ago.

It all rushed back to Jazz – Sam suddenly dragging her up the stairs, the green glow of the basement. Her curiosity curdled into rage. She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid.

Jazz dashed out of Danny's room and down the stairs, making a beeline for the basement. I knew they were messing with ghost stuff down there! If he trashed the lab while she was at home, they were both going to be in "a world of trouble," as their dad usually put it.

Jazz flung the basement door open and began to dash down the stairs. That green light still illuminated the normally dull, grey walls.

"Danny!? Are you still down here? Listen, if you're messing with... oh… oh my god."

The portal. Working.

Jazz squinted against the bright light. Strange green electricity swirled inside the portal like a small storm. She couldn't see past the threshold of the portal due to the incredible density of the ecto-energy.

She looked around the room. No sign of Danny anywhere. Neon green stains – of what she now knew could only be ectoplasm – were splashed chaotically across the floor.

Jazz tried to piece together what happened. It looked like someone had carelessly dumped multiple beakers of ectoplasm right at the portal's entrance. Shoe prints had stepped in it, then dragged something large through the pile of goo and over to the corner. The glow was swiped over something dark red, probably another chemical of some sort. The shoe prints faded into nothing as they approached that area of the room. She walked hesitantly over to get a closer look.

Another pile of ectoplasm – this looked oddly thicker. There were handprints on the floor too, she noted with disgust. Why were Danny and his friends touching this goop?

The trail stopped there. There were other areas with random splashes of ectoplasm – the edge of the sink, the wall by the stairs, but nothing that told a story. Jazz was confident about a few things – Danny had fled the mess he'd made, fearing punishment from their parents. Even though he'd gotten the portal working, he'd done it with his two friends who weren't supposed to be down here and had trashed the lab in the process. Jazz also knew Sam was genuinely upset at Danny earlier. Jazz had never seen that girl cry before, and she didn't seem like the type who would be able to do it as a diversion.

Nobody's fake crying was that good.

Jazz fished her phone out of her pocket and flipped it open. She went to her contacts and scrolled down to Danny's number. She hit dial.

What am I even going to say when he answers? 'Hey, how did you and your teenage friends somehow get the Fenton Portal working? Why did you trash the lab? I'm pissed at you, but also, are you okay?'

Beep beep beep!

Jazz looked for the noise.

Beep beep beep!

She walked over to the two backpacks in the corner, careful to avoid the large tubes that laid across the lab's floor.

Beep beep beep!

Danny's bag.

Uh, hey, this is Danny Fenton. Leave a message, or you could just text me like it's the 21st century. Get back to you as soon as-

Jazz hung up.

Danny never went anywhere without his phone.

She re-opened her contacts and scrolled to her mom's entry. She dialed.

"Jazz? Hello?"

"Mom, I'm sorry to bother you guys on your date…" Jazz noted the shaky quality of her voice with surprise. "I think you need to come home. As soon as possible."

Jazz walked around the room, trying to distract herself from the anxiety in her chest. She kept her eyes glued to the floor so she didn't step in the ectoplasm or trip over anything. She noticed a few random gloves scattered around the floor.

"Jazz, sweetie, what is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom. But… I don't really know how to say this… the portal is on."

Silence.

"Mom?"

Her mom's voice was oddly quiet and measured on the other end. "Sorry, honey, I didn't hear you for a second. What did you say?"

"The Fenton portal. I came downstairs and… I don't know what happened, but it's on. It's working."

A crash on the other end.

"Mom? Are you th-"

"JAZZ!" Her dad's voice boomed over the receiver. Jazz winced and held the phone farther from her ear. She hadn't heard him shout that loud in weeks. "Now, princess, tell us exactly what you see, alright?"

"Hi Dad, it's uh… well, it's got this bright green glow inside, filled all the way to the door. There's-"

More crashing on the other end. Her dad's voice again, this time farther away from the microphone. "MADDIE! She's right. The Fenton Portal… HA! I knew it! I never doubted for a second that it worked!"

"Dad!?" Jazz shouted, trying to get her dad's attention again. She heard dishes clashing loudly in the background. She winced again, this time from secondhand embarrassment. She was glad she wasn't there to see the shocked faces of the other patrons in the restaurant.

She heard her dad raise the phone to his ear again. "Jazzy! Stay right there, do you hear me? Don't move a muscle. Keep your eyes on that portal."

"Dad, there's something else. Danny-"

"We'll be right there! See you soon, sweetheart!"

Beep.

Jazz sighed. Once again, her parents' ghost obsession kept them from being the actual nurturing adults their children needed. She looked around at the chaos of the lab again… this time spotting something new. She walked over to where it sat on the floor near the entrance of the portal.

She bent down and picked it up – a Polaroid camera. The lens was completely shattered. She didn't recognize it – this had to be Sam or Tucker's.

Jazz scanned the floor again, looking for any other clues she may have missed. She bent down again, picking up the small white square she spotted near her feet. Jazz flipped it over and let out a small gasp.

An unsmiling picture of Danny, near the entrance of the de-activated portal. He looked unsure and irritated. He limply held his old jumpsuit, preparing to put it on.

"Oh little brother…" she mumbled to herself. "What did you DO?"

"We're almost there, Sam. Just a couple more blocks."

Sam adjusted Danny's unconscious body on her back. His head slumped forward over her shoulder, wiping against her face. Black hair tickled her neck. It felt wet – she knew there must be blood on her cheek.

"Thank god. These boots weren't made for strength training."

"You know I can take him back, if you want."

"Nah, it's fine. You've done more than your fair share. I'll just have to start wearing more practical shoes – somehow I doubt this is the last time we'll have to carry him."

Tucker laughed at the absurdity of their shared situation.

When they first left the school, Tucker had been carrying Danny while they all bantered with each other. Sam was telling them an embarrassing story from summer camp, and Danny held securely onto Tucker with his comforter wrapped around his shoulders… until Danny's body had gone into overdrive about a third of the way to Tucker's house.

With no warning, those bright white rings had shown up again, wrapping around Danny over and over. The second each pair of halos disappeared, a new set manifested at his torso. His eyes started flicking around in that same disconcerting way they had in the lab, when he'd first fallen out of the portal. Danny lost his balance completely and fell off of Tucker's back, landing face-first on the concrete with a sickening crack. Sam quickly grabbed Danny's arms while Tucker lifted his legs, and they had to clumsily carry him into an alley to avoid the possible eyes of anyone out for an evening walk. The sun had set, and the ghostly energy was lighting up the street. The rings prickled and froze Sam's hands every time they washed over her, like she had stuck her bare hands into a pile of ice shards. She wondered how awful this felt for Danny.

With Danny safely out of sight, they laid him back on the ground behind a dumpster as gently as they could and crouched next to him. His face was covered in the blood pouring from his nose. The fluid switched from viscous and green to watery and crimson every time that halo passed over his face.

Danny rolled over to his side, gagging violently, but vomit wouldn't come. Red blood and ectoplasm dripped off his nose onto the concrete.

Sam felt powerless. There was nothing to do except watch her friend writhe, overcome with nausea or pain. Probably both.

Mercifully, he fainted. The rings traveled over his body one last time, leaving him as a normal human.

Sam grabbed the bottom of her shirt and wrapped it around her hand to dab some of the blood and ectoplasm off of Danny's face.

"Sam, you don't gotta do that. Let me look for a tissue or something in my… oh, damn it. I must have left my backpack at FentonWorks."

"It's fine," she said, wiping some of the blood that had smeared on Danny's forehead and down his chin. "It's not like it'll stain on black. And besides… even if it does, what could be more goth than blood-stained clothes?"

Tucker reached down to pick Danny back up, but Sam quickly shooed him away.

"Tucker, think about it. You can't exactly walk into the Foley house with blood all over your shirt. Could you just go find where Danny's blanket fell? I've got this."

"My hoodie is red, I'm sure it'll blend in. Besides, he wouldn't-"

But Sam had already pulled Danny onto her back. She hated being shipped off to summer camp, but in that moment she was thankful for all the physical activities she was forced to do. She knew she wouldn't have been able to pick him up without a summer of exercise… although she couldn't help but notice that Danny seemed lighter than he should be.

Now, Sam and Tucker found themselves approaching the Foley household. Sam looked up at the house. In the daylight, it was a cheery pastel blue, but in the darkness, coupled with everything that had happened today, it seemed murky blue and eerie.

"So… what's Plan D?" Sam asked, turning to Tucker.

"Huh?"

"Plan C was rush Danny past your parents and hope they don't ask questions, right? So what are we gonna do now?"

Tucker chuckled. "We've been asking each other that a lot today."

Sam gave a sad laugh in return. "It feels like so much longer than just a day."

Tucker nodded.

They stood together in silence for a moment, taking in their new bond. Sam realized they'd never really spent time together without Danny before. Now they were the only two people in the world able to take care of their best friend – an ambiguously dead kid who was unable to help himself.

Sam swallowed. "I'm… I hope this isn't cheesy, or whatever, but… I'm glad you're here with me, Tucker. I really don't know how I'd do this alone."

Tucker reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Me too, Sam."

Tucker took a deep breath, preparing for the next challenge. "I think Plan D has to be waiting for Danny to wake up or for my parents to go to bed. Unless you think you can carry him up the ladder I was going to use to sneak you in."

Sam adjusted Danny on her back to keep him from slipping. "Doubt it."

"Then I'll go inside first so I don't miss curfew and tell my parents that Danny needs to come over late for some reason. It'll have to relate to why I'm carrying his dirty-ass blanket around with me. I'm hoping they just go to bed soon and we can sneak you both in using the stairs."

Sam nodded. "That sounds good. I'll take Danny a street or two away so they don't see us."

"Perfect." Tucker pulled his PDA out of his pocket to check the time. 9:42 pm. "Keep your phone on. I'll text you when it's safe, then come meet me at the front door."

Tucker held out his arms and rotated around. "Any Danny blood?"

Sam looked him up and down. "Yeah, there's some on your hands. Just barely."

Tucker looked at the slight glow on his palms. "Eh, that should be fine. Not like my parents know to look for ghost blood." He gave her a thumbs-up, then wasted no time jogging up the driveway to his house.

Sam felt the low hum of anxiety in her chest increase to a whir as Tucker disappeared inside his home. She remembered Danny's casual thumbs-up… the one he'd shot them right before he…

Tucker yanked her off the floor, bathed in the green light of the portal. "He's still in there! Danny's still in there! What do we do?" She could barely hear him over the screams of her best friend. The…

She forced herself to cut the thought off, squeezing Danny in her hands. He was solid. Warm. Alive.

Chapter Text

Despite her best efforts, Sam felt her breathing speed up, her heart pounding in her ears. It was easy to distract herself from the horror of what she'd done when she was with Tucker… with Danny unconscious, she felt so terrifyingly alone.

"I shouldn't be worrying about that. It's in the past, right?" Sam asked Danny softly. His head slumped further down her shoulder in response. She walked down Tucker's street, headed towards a small community playground she knew of that they could hole up in for now.

"I mean, I don't even get to feel shitty. You're the one that has to go through all of this. You're the person I got killed."

She walked in silence until she reached the park, the gravity of her words weighing on her more heavily than the weight of Danny's body ever could.

The playground was meager – it consisted of swing set and a set of monkey bars that connected to a platform with a small slide at the end. She backed up to the platform and eased Danny's rear onto it, then grabbed both of his arms that dangled loosely around her chest so his torso wouldn't fall. Sam rotated around, then gently eased his body down so he could lay on his back.

Sam walked around the platform and climbed up the small plastic slide, sitting at the edge of it so her feet rested back down the slope. Danny's head lay right behind her, his gangly legs hanging off the edge of the playground equipment.

Sam looked up at the stars and sighed, taking in the silence for a moment. She could practically hear Danny talking her ear off as he always did when they were outside at night: And that star there, that's actually Mars, see how it's got the reddish tint to it? While we're out here, there's a new constellation that should be visible, I think you'll really like this one…

Sam sighed. "All you ever wanted to be was an astronaut… and I took that from you, didn't I?"

She wanted to look back at him but couldn't stand seeing his blood-soaked face. Everything from the chunks of burned, dead skin peeling off his cheeks to his likely-broken nose was her fault. She knew that.

"I was so worried that we weren't going to be friends anymore, Danny. I was so scared. And now that just feels… so stupid." Tears stung her eyes. "Because now I'm afraid of losing you in a whole different way."

The tears escaped, pouring down her cheeks. Sam hated herself for it. Danny was the one suffering and here she was, crying as if she was the one that got murdered by her own best friend.

"Why do I always have to make everything about myself?" Sam asked bitterly. "This is all my fault. Stupid Sam Manson wanted you to go into the broken ghost portal."

She was fully crying now, unable to compose herself now that she was alone. Her words were barely coherent in between her sobs and gasps, but they kept spilling from her lips. "I wish you didn't want to be friends anymore, Danny. Then maybe you'd be safe right now, in your own bed instead of bleeding on this stupid goddamn playground equipment."

Sam pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Tears soaked into her tights. She sobbed for a minute in silence, trying to catch her breath. "I ruined your LIFE! You're alive now, I think, but we don't know how any of this works. What if you keep burning up energy and disappear? What if your body can't handle it!? What am I going to do if you leave me here ALONE!?"

She screamed, her voice echoing off the row houses. The stars twinkled, mocking her. The neighborhood responded with an uncaring silence.

She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to quiet herself. Sam knew she was spiraling but didn't know how to stop. Her shoulders shook violently with every suppressed sob.

Danny drifted into consciousness. He was greeted with blood pounding in his face, much more than earlier. His nose throbbed painfully. What… what happened to me?

Danny moved his arms slightly, feeling the smooth, dirty surface beneath him. Where am I?

He didn't dare get up yet – he was afraid he'd pass right back out again. He looked up at the night sky – he spotted Mars with ease, floating to the west of Pisces. He followed Pisces to the right, tracing the outline of Aquarius with his eyes.

"I ruined your LIFE!"

He jumped at the sudden noise, recognizing it immediately as Sam's voice. He'd never heard her like this in his life. Screaming with rage or indignation was commonplace, but… it was always on behalf of something else, like fighting climate change, or yelling at a protest she organized. This was different. Raw.

"You're alive now, I think, but we don't know how any of this works. What if you keep burning up energy and disappear? What if your body can't handle it!? What am I going to do if you leave me here ALONE!?"

Danny would be scared if he wasn't so exhausted. I already feel dead – if I haven't withered away by now, I doubt I'm going to.

He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. He knew she wasn't really talking to him… and he wanted to comfort Sam, not embarrass her.

Danny waited a minute before announcing his consciousness. "…Sam?"

He heard quick movements, then Sam came into sight as she leaned over him. He saw the tears shining on her cheeks, reflecting the streetlights.

"Are you… Sam, what's wrong?" His nose sounded plugged.

Sam wiped at her eyes again. "It's fine, Danny. Um… how much of that did you hear?"

"Nothing, you just… it looks like you were crying," Danny said, hoping his lie was convincing. "Can I… Can we talk about it?"

"I'd rather we didn't."

"I don't…" Danny sighed, exhausted, unsure what to do. "Okay."

"Tucker's going to text me when he's ready for us. He's in his house right now, trying to find a way to sneak us in." Sam said, changing the subject with a sniff. "It'll be a lot easier now that you're conscious."

"Yeah, speaking of… what happened? I feel like I got hit by a train."

"You mean besides the whole ghost portal thing?" Sam asked sardonically.

Danny tried to offer her a weak laugh, wincing at the pain. Sam flinched back.

"You passed out earlier when your ghost thing was going crazy," Sam continued. "You fell face first onto the sidewalk."

"'Ghost thing?' What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember?"

Danny shook his head, rotating it only a few centimeters each way to avoid hurting himself. "We were just walking to Tucker's house. Then I woke up here with you."

"Those rings appeared around your body again. You were changing back and forth really fast… I think it made you sick. You were trying to throw up and then just passed out."

Danny wracked his brain but truly couldn't remember anything. He did feel nauseous, but it was hard to tell if that was from these "rings" or any of the other million injuries he'd gotten that night.

"So what are 'the rings?' Tucker mentioned it before, too, in the guidance counselor's office."

Sam blinked, processing. "You… you don't know? Then how-"

Sam's phone beeped. She left Danny's field of view, he heard her pull it out of her pocket and start to press various buttons.

Danny opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. He couldn't let Sam just change the subject like that, let her act like everything was okay. But he didn't want to embarrass her either. Sam could be stubborn, and she barely talked about real things that were bothering her. Danny heard her – she was tearing herself apart over something stupid that he did. He didn't have to be the one to go into his parents' portal. Sam was smart enough to not accidentally hit giant, obvious "ON" buttons.

"Tucker's ready for us. His parents are asleep… do you-"

"Sam, all this is my fault."

Silence.

Way to go Fenton, you pissed her off again.

Danny waited a few more moments for a response, then slowly leaned on his forearm so he could partially sit up and look at her. His vision blurred for a second, and his nose throbbed harder, but he managed to hold the pose.

Sam was looking down at her hands, which rested limply in her lap. The phone screen in her right hand had gone dark. Her stare focused on nothing – it seemed like she was somewhere else entirely.

"Sam? I can't… I can't let you blame yourself, okay?"

Sam shook her head quickly, as if pushing away a thought. She raised her head and looked at Danny with sad eyes. He was shocked to see blood smeared on the side of her face and down her neck.

"It was my choice to go into the portal. I could've said no; I could've made us leave the basement. But I uh… well, I chose to go in. It had nothing to do with you, okay?"

Sam gave him a smile. It reminded Danny of the one his mom put on that morning – a grin that didn't reach her eyes. It perturbed him, he was used to seeing righteous anger from Sam, not a mask. "Thank you, Danny. I know that. Don't worry about me, okay? Let's get you inside."

Danny frowned. He knew he wouldn't be able to push her any farther. He wished he was better with words. He wished he was smarter, so he could figure out why she was so upset at herself for his mistake. "Okay, Sam. But… if you wanna talk about it, I'm here."

Sam ignored his comment and stood up on the playground equipment, stretching. "Alright, well… sorry to tell you this, Danny, but you're gonna have to let me carry you," she said, suddenly mischievous.

She hopped to the ground then spun back around to shoot him another grin, this one seemed more genuine.

I get the message, Sam. I'll drop it. The best way to help her feel better, at least right now, was to play along.

"Oh, no way," he said, forcing a chuckle. "How could I ever show my face at school if I let a girl carry me? Nuh uh, not happening."

That's if I get to go back to school.

Embarrassing scenarios rushed through his head – turning invisible during roll call, his eyes glowing green as he concentrated on a test. His parents storming the school with anti-ecto weapons in tow. Worst of all, turning intangible on accident and sinking through the floor, only to turn tangible and suffocate underground. Danny thought about the disturbing feeling of intangibility: the unbearable tingles that rushed over his entire body, the slight-

He didn't have time to react before his body slipped through the playground equipment, sending him crashing into the wood chips below. He saw stars, letting out an involuntary groan.

"Danny!" Sam shouted, rushing to crouch under the platform to scan for injuries.

"Okay…" Danny said, dizzy. His mouth felt wet, he tasted copper. He lifted a hand up towards Sam for help. "You win, I'll take that carry now, please."

Chapter Text

Danny sat dutifully in one of Tucker’s uncomfortable attic chairs, letting Sam crouch over him and cleanse his wounds with alcohol. He winced every time a soaked cotton ball came into contact with his face. Each cotton pad she came away saturated with blood. Danny thought he looked like a mess in the lab – he didn’t even want to think about how he looked now.

Tucker sat cross-legged on the pink sofa kitty-corner from Danny’s chair. Now bloody and coated with dirt, Danny’s comforter draped over the back of the couch next to him. Tucker opened a spiral-bound notebook, pen in hand.

“So… what do we know about Danny?”

Danny sucked air through his teeth as more alcohol stung his wounds. He couldn’t help but lean away from the pain. “We know he’s an idiot who can’t even get carried right,” he said, self-deprecating.

Tucker rolled his eyes. “C’mon, man, how can we help you if we don’t figure out what’s going on?”

“We know what’s going on, right? I died in the Fenton portal,” Danny said, nonchalant. The words came easily. It felt like he was talking about someone else.

Sam pulled the now-bloody cotton pad away from his face and stood up, irritated. “If you’re actually dead, then can you act like it and stop wiggling so much?”

“Sorry.”

Tucker threw his hands up with a huff. “You  guys!  Okay, whatever. I’ll start.” He looked down and began to write in the notebook. “We know that everything going on with Danny is because of that portal. Unless you were feeling ghostly before?”

“Negative,” Danny said. “But I wasn’t kidding, either. I died in there, right? I’ll admit I don’t exactly know what’s going on  now …” He gestured at his human body. “But maybe I, like, I don’t know, possessed my own dead body?”

“Ignoring how  insanely  cool that would be from a goth perspective, I don’t think so, Danny,” Sam said, examining his face for spots she’d missed. “Otherwise, wouldn’t everyone who dies just do that? Humans could basically live forever if you could just infinitely re-possess yourself. Why would  you  become a ghost while everyone else stays plain old dead?”

Danny hadn’t thought of this. “So… that means that really  was  ectoplasm in the portal? You think that’s why I could become a ghost after I died? It zapped me with ghost energy?”

Tucker nodded, continuing to write. “Could be. Or maybe because you died in that Ghost Zone, your spirit can live on.”

“Maybe  any  human that enters a Ghost Zone ends up like a ghost,” Sam added.

“ The  Ghost Zone,” Danny corrected. “Uh, if my parents are right, there should be just one. Like an alternate dimension or something.”

“Whatever happened, the portal is the reason. No doubt about that,” Tucker said definitively, putting his pen down and looking at Danny. “We also know you’re not really dead. But… you’re not exactly alive, either. It seems to switch off when that ring of light surrounds you.”

Danny frowned, annoyed. “You guys keep talking about these stupid rings! Can someone  please  explain what you’re talking about?”

“It’s this light that shows up, right around here,” Tucker said, pointing at his own midriff. “It’s white, which is kinda weird. Everything else that glows on you is green, like the portal.”

“Or ectoplasm,” Danny added, queasy just thinking about how much of that slime had come from his body today.

“It first showed up in the lab when you passed out the first time. The light grew, turning into these huge circles around you. And then they kind of moved across your body, and suddenly you were back to normal.”

Danny touched his stomach. Besides the pain he’d felt all day, his torso  felt  normal. “You’re saying this light  comes out of me ?   Like,  Alien  or something ? ”

Tucker frowned and picked his pen back up, writing down more notes. “You know, it  does  kind of look like it comes out of you. You didn’t see it when I was helping you to the mirror in the lab? It started to show up then.”

The memory rushed back to him. A bright ring of cold white light had shimmered at his torso and made him gasp in fear. “You know, on any other day, that’d be the most memorable thing to happen to me.” 

Sam stepped back from Danny, satisfied with her first-aid job. She sat down on the pink shag rug, dropping her handful of bloody cotton pads on the hardwood floor. She placed the bottle of isopropyl alcohol and the spare cotton pads next to it. “You’ve thrown up nearly every time I’ve seen it happen, too.”

Tucker nodded. “He vomited right when he woke up in the lab. That’s when he changed from looking like a human back to a ghost.”

“ Awesome.  So the next time I get the stomach flu, my mom and dad are going to freak out and turn the Fenton Ghost Exterminator on me.”

“I thought you said that thing didn’t work,” Tucker pointed out.

“Well, sure, but they got the Fenton Portal to function! Who knows how long it’ll be before they make something else that runs?” Danny groaned, the movement in his face stinging his wounds. “Out of  all  the Fenton inventions…  why  did the working one have to be the radioactive death trap? How am I ever gonna go home?”

Sam looked him up and down. “Well, you look normal now, right? So… what if you could learn to control it? How would your parents ever know?”

Danny paused. “Control it?”

“Sure, I mean, there  have  to be other ghosts, if the ectoplasm in the portal came from real ghosts, right? Do you think they’re all running around, uncontrollably turning invisible all the time?”

Tucker smiled, an epiphany hitting him. He started talking faster, excited. “Dude, she’s right! This is  just  like Empress She-Wolf! She could barely function when she first got mutated, but after her training, she wasn’t just a master at swordplay… she learned to suppress her she-wolf form at will so that she could blend in with humans.”

Danny’s brow furrowed, confused. “Empress… who?”

Tucker threw his head back and groaned. “From  Call of the Wild!  C’mon man, I’m  always  talking about that comic.”

Danny returned Tucker’s groan, face palming, careful to avoid his nose. “Tucker, are you serious? I’m not about to take advice from some lame comic book.”

“ Hey ! Hands off the face, I just cleaned those burns,” Sam snapped. “Tucker, do you have any clothes he can borrow? There’s no way he’s not gonna get infected with those nasty gloves on.”

Danny removed his hand from his face and looked down at it. She was right – dirt, dried blood, and ectoplasm caked the entire palm.

Tucker closed the notebook and set it aside to stand up. “Sure. Let me go get ’em from my room. And Danny? Insult  Call of the Wild  one more time and you can find some  other  attic to haunt.” He shot Danny a fake scowl.

“Of  course , I didn’t mean to be so prejudiced against geek culture. Please forgive me.”

Tucker flipped Danny off with an eye roll and a laugh as he descended the stairs, leaving their sight.

Danny let out a laugh as soon as Tucker was gone. He knew Sam would agree with him, Tucker was being completely ridiculous. “Bringing  comics  into this, can you believe him?”

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, actually. You’re telling me you have a better idea?”

“Well, no, but come  on ! ‘She-wolf form?’”

“Right, ’cause that’s  nothing  like having a ghost form.”

“It’s completely different! It’s not like…” Danny faltered. Was it  actually  different?  

If someone told him a story about a kid going into a radioactive machine and coming out with the ability to fly and turn invisible, he’d dismiss it as fantasy. But wasn’t that exactly what was happening to him now? What made him different from Peter Parker, except instead of being bitten by a radioactive spider, he’d gotten zapped by the Fenton Portal?

“Um…” Danny started again, looking down at his hands, then back up at Sam, bashful at his sudden change of opinion. “How exactly did those heroes start to control their powers?”

Sam’s expression softened. “I don’t know about superheroes, but Terminatra was a human who got her consciousness uploaded into a cyborg. Her creators abandoned her, so she had to figure out everything on her own. Her abilities appeared at random, like sometimes she’d just be in her lair, and her fingers would transform into plasma rays.”

Danny nodded, thinking about how his hand had started glowing in the lab when he’d raised it to the mirror.

“Eventually, using her abilities became second nature to her, like walking. But she first had to figure them out by focusing on how they made her feel when they appeared. Like she said the plasma rays, for example, felt like electricity surging in her fingertips. So she just tried to conjure the same feeling, over and over, until she got it.”

Danny laughed. “Just like studying for Lancer’s class. You’ve gotta keep grinding until you’ve got it down.”

Sam beamed at her friend. “Exactly.”

Danny looked down at his stomach, trying to ignore all the red and green stains on the white uniform. “So… I guess I’ll walk myself through it. The only time I actually  saw  those transformation rings was in the lab with Tucker. It was…  freezing,  and it prickled. I’ve felt the same thing a few other times, like when I first woke up outside the portal and in the school hallways. It’s the same feeling as being in the portal, but about a thousand times less painful.”

Sam frowned, looking away. “So it  does  hurt?”

“Yeah, definitely. Not bad though. I mean, if I felt it  this morning,  I would tell you it’s one of the worst feelings out there, but I’ve kinda got some more perspective on pain now.” Danny laughed at the absurdity. He felt like he’d gained a decade of life experience in just a few hours.

Sam chuckled too, but still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Danny, focusing, continued. “The worst part is the nausea. It feels like you’ve got ice-cold stomach acid rising up your throat, but… down to your feet, too. It’s kind of hard to explain, I’ve never felt anything else like it.”

Danny stood up slowly. Sam looked up at him.

He strained, trying to force the initial feeling. “It feels like pure energy gathering, building until it has nowhere else to go but-“

A cold burst of energy appeared out of nowhere at his waist. A bright light encircled him. His breathing became ragged and irregular as he struggled to hold onto the unstable feeling, staying tense to avoid letting it fizzle out.

Sam stood up and backed away, staring at the bright light with awe. “Oh my  god,  Danny!”

“And then it kind of…” He released some of the tension he was holding, allowing the ring to separate and travel freely. They snaked up and down his body automatically once he released them, stinging his body with freezing prickles. He clamped a hand over his mouth, determined not to vomit this time.

Stomach acid stung his throat – he forced it back down with a disgusting gulp. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in and collapsed back into the purple armchair.

Danny held up a hand in front of his face, noting the different jumpsuit and the glowing aura.

He dropped his arm and looked up at Sam with an exhausted smile, but his focus quickly shifted to the reflection in the window behind her. The unnerving glow of his inhuman eyes stared back at him.

Chapter Text

SLAM.

Jazz jumped at the sound of the basement door crashing open. She quickly shoved the Polaroid picture of Danny she had been looking at back into her back pocket, slid off the workstation she was sitting on, and faced the stairs to greet her mom and dad.

Her mom dashed into view first, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the staircase. It was odd to see her in formalwear rather than her typical latex suit – but she’d been wearing it less and less lately as she sank deeper into her depression. There was no sign of that sadness now as Maddie looked past Jazz and gazed up at her invention. Her eyes twinkled with joy, reflecting the other-worldly glow of the portal.

Jack bounded down the stairs next, still wearing his typical orange jumpsuit, even on a date. He froze the second the portal was in sight.

For once in his life, Jack Fenton was speechless.

Maddie brought her hands up to her mouth. “Oh, Jack… after all these years…”

“She’s… she’s beautiful,” Jack whispered, tears forming.

Jazz looked back at the glowing portal. Although she was proud of her parents, what did this success mean? If the ghost portal worked, didn’t that mean ghosts had to exist, too?

Doesn’t that mean I was WRONG?

Jazz ran her fingers through her hair nervously. She detested being wrong but conceded that ghosts (thankfully) weren’t exactly her area of expertise. At least her family was acting predictably – Jack had started an animated rant (which Jazz was effectively tuning out), Maddie hadn’t taken her eyes off of the functioning portal, and Danny had fled the minute he knew he’d be grounded for trashing the lab.

Besides the portal… everything is normal, everything is predictable, Jazz thought, calming herself. Their craziness must be rubbing off on me. There’s absolutely no way I was wrong. Ghosts are NOT real.

Maddie walked over to the wall and opened one of the lab’s lockers, revealing various jumpsuits. She took out a teal one, her usual, and stepped into it, zipping it up over her floor-length dress. Lumps of the dress’ fabric were visible under the latex suit, and the gown would wrinkle, but Jazz knew that was the last thing on her mom’s mind right now.

Maddie walked over to a set of dials on the portal’s right side, studying their readings. She turned back towards her family. “Everything looks correct… can you two believe it? A truly functioning portal to the Ghost Zone. Think about what this means for the scientific community.”

Jack rushed over to get a look as well, taking his wife’s hand in his. “I always knew we could do it, hon.”

Jazz stood back, watching the joy in her parents’ faces. That happiness had been missing for weeks… she was starting to worry it would never come back. She reached into her pocket, feeling the photograph.

This is something I’ve got to do on my own. For their sake, and Danny’s.

Her parents could be thick-skulled, and they were never the best in a crisis. They tended to blow tiny issues out of proportion and treat big problems too cavalierly. Jazz was fairly sure Danny was fine – but she needed to guarantee it.

She knew couldn’t handle it if she voiced her concerns and her parents chose ghosts over their children… again.

“I’m really happy for you two,” Jazz said softly.

But they didn’t hear her. Jack and Maddie were already lost in their shared euphoria of ecto-technology.

Jazz silently slipped across the room to grab Danny’s backpack and headed back up the stairs. She took it all the way to her room before un-zipping it and fishing around inside.

“Okay, Danny… time to find out if you’re okay.”

“Danny, are you okay?”

Sam watched as Danny examined his body. He was entirely coated in that supernatural aura again. His movements were minimal; he was clearly still nauseous… but it was an improvement. She couldn’t believe that with just a few minutes of effort, he’d triggered the transformation that had been causing him so many problems all night. If he could learn to get his thing under control… maybe it was the first step toward things being okay.

Maybe I won’t have ruined his life, she thought, then immediately admonished herself for being so selfish.

“Yeah… more than fine, did you see that!?” He let out a whoop of victory, followed by a laugh. His voice had taken on that ghostly quality again – echoic and fuzzy.

Sam couldn’t help but smile back at Danny, his exuberance contagious. His cries reminded her of when he’d score an occasional good grade on a test in middle school – disbelieving and buzzing with positivity.

Although she still wasn’t sure how to feel about all of this.

Danny may be smiling and laughing, but her eyes still fell to the burns that still marked half of his face, now blistered and scabby green flesh that had barely started to heal. His swollen nose was set at a slightly different angle than she was used to. It was easier to tell now that he was cleaned up that it really was broken. She didn’t even want to know what he looked like under the jumpsuit, to see the bruises and cuts that would inevitably be there. Not to mention the frightening glow of his eyes and body. None of this would’ve happened if not for her stubbornness.

Sam felt so old, like she was remembering the callous behavior of her younger, childhood self rather than something that she’d done just this morning.

She chuckled to herself. Jazz would probably force an explanation on me. “Scientifically, trauma can age the minds of adolescents…” Some bullshit like that. Danny, doubtlessly misreading her reason for laughter, beamed back at her.

Tucker tip-toed up the stairs, eyes glued to the screen of his PDA. He kept his feet light, like they all tried to, since his parents were asleep. The attic didn’t carry voices well, but the old stairs creaked throughout the whole house. The last thing they needed was Mr. and Mrs. Foley walking in on their glowing, undead friend.

Tucker unfolded the green knit sweater in his hands, holding it up in front of him. “Thoughts?” He asked Danny, the sweater blocking the view of his friend. “I can go get a tee shirt if you want instead.”

“Uh…” Danny looked down at his black jumpsuit, then to Sam. “Do you think I’ll need two outfits? I mean… this jumpsuit’s clearly in better condition than the other one. It’s barely dirty at all. It kinda seems like they’re entirely different suits.”

“Hey, free jumpsuit. Dying’s got its perks,” Sam said, deadpan. She pushed her troubled thoughts aside. She needed to act normal around her friends.

Tucker quickly lowered the sweater, eyes wide. “Dude… you changed back? Are you okay!?”

Danny chortled. “Yeah, I’ve uh…” Danny paused, then let out another laugh. “I guess I’ve only changed when I feel like shit, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. Understatement of the century,” Tucker scoffed, tossing Danny the sweater and jeans.

Danny caught them, a grin still plastered on his face.

Sam turned to Tucker with a smile. “Danny changed back all on his own this time.”

Danny laughed. “Vomit-free, if you can believe it!”

Tucker grinned. “See, I told you Empress She-Wolf was the answer! You took my advice, didn’t you? You’ll be blending in with the humans in no time, Call of the Wild style.”

Sam winced. Was Danny really not human anymore? She looked at the daunting glow of his eyes. She’d seen irises glow in movies before, but in person it just seemed so… wrong.

So inhuman.

Those blinding eyes flicked over to Sam as Danny shot her a conspiratorial grin. “Couldn’t have done it without my great coach, here.”

“ Me? ” Sam asked, incredulous.  “Danny, I barely did anything.”

Danny waved her protests off with a flick of his wrist. “Aw, c’mon, you know that’s not true. I’m serious,” he said. His tone grew more wholehearted as he looked between his friends. “I couldn’t do this without you. Both of you.”

Sam looked away, suddenly bashful. Even though they were her closest friends, Sam had always hung out with the boys in a casual capacity, always related to fun. Going to Nasty Burger, complaining about homework, racing their scooters around town. It’s easy to avoid talking about emotions when you’re always doing something… they’d never really opened up  to each other like this before.

Sam sighed and turned back to Danny, offering a weak smile that she hoped was convincing. I’ve experienced enough emotional intimacy today to last an entire lifetime.

Tucker walked back over to the pink couch and plopped down next to his notebook with a grin on his face. “We’re always gonna be here for you man. But, uh, hey,” Tucker said, thankfully changing the subject before the air got too thick with sentimentality. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up? I can throw your suit in the wash while you shower, unless… Sam, did you already clean it?”

Danny looked down at himself. “No… but it is kind of clean, isn’t it?”

Sam looked over Danny’s suit – not a smudge or splash of ectoplasm on it. “Maybe it wiped off somewhere?”

Danny shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to clean it anyways, just in case it’s still dirty. I don’t really know how sanitary old ectoplasm is.” He stood up slowly, keeping his head stiff and level. “I should probably change out of it either way. Weird ghost glow or not, it’s a lot less suspicious to wear normal clothes rather than a polyester onesie.”

Tucker laughed and cocked an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that’s not latex?”

“Yeah right! No way in hell would you catch me wearing the skin-tight garbage my parents do.”

Sam guffawed. “You’re trying to tell us that isn’t skin-tight? If that’s not spandex, I’ll wear my mom’s hideous dresses for the rest of eternity.”

“ Whatever, I’m showering,” Danny grumbled, irritated.

Danny’s angry tone and furrowed brow almost laughably contrasted with the small, delicate steps he took towards the stairs.

Sam and Tucker sobered immediately. “You need help?” They asked in unison.

Danny waved them off. “Save it, I need the walking practice anyways.”

Danny gripped the handrail at the top of the stairs and pressed most of his weight into it as he began to slowly hobble down the steps. The stairs creaked slightly, but hopefully it was nothing that would wake Tucker’s parents. Sam and Tucker listened for ages, until they finally heard the door at the bottom of the steps click shut.

Tucker turned to Sam. “You really think he was that mad? I kinda feel bad now.”

“About the jumpsuit thing? Nah. But about everything else… I don’t know. I hope not.”

Tucker sighed. “Yeah. You’d think that basically getting superpowers would suck a lot less, huh?”

“I don’t know if I’d call Danny a superhero , Tucker.”

“What else would you call the ability to fly and turn invisible? And with the secret from his parents, we can check ‘secret identity’ off the list, too.”

Sam twitched, angry at the implication. “I’d call it horribly painful. God, Tucker, there’s nothing ‘super’ about it.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, irritated. “Sam, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then don’t talk about it like that!” Sam growled. “If anything, it’s more like he’s cursed. Maybe I’d feel different if he could control it, or if we didn’t have to see what it did to him, but… I don’t know.”

Sam huffed, frustrated at Tucker but angrier with herself. She wished she knew the words to get across what she was feeling. It was so easy to bullshit in Jazz’s therapy session… why couldn’t she talk to Tucker? Why can’t I-

“Sam, I really don’t know what you want from me.” Tucker said suddenly, his tone uncharacteristically sour. “I’m trying to look on the bright side, alright? You think I’m not messed up from what we saw?” His voice cracked. “I’m trying to be okay! For Danny. ” Sam saw tears pool at his eyes.

What… do I want from him?

Sam sighed, deflating. “You’re right, Tucker. I’m… I’m sorry.” She reached to tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear, but stopped when she felt the crusty texture on her cheek. Dark flakes fell onto her shirt. Have I really been sitting here with blood on my face this whole time?

Tucker stood up, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I got you. Here, sit down,” he said, monotone. He walked over and grabbed the isopropyl alcohol and extra cotton pads that Sam had placed on the ground earlier.

When Sam didn’t immediately move, he nodded his head towards the chair Danny had been sitting in. Sam obliged, silently sitting down and placing her hands in her lap.

I’m such an ass. Why the hell am I taking all this out on Tucker?

Tucker unscrewed the cap and splashed some of the disinfectant onto a clean cotton pad. He leaned over her, gently dabbing at the cheek Danny had wiped against earlier. Sam looked away, feeling awkward at the physical closeness after their fight. The alcohol didn’t sting – she was thankful that she didn’t seem to have any cuts on her face. Mixing human blood was one thing, but she didn’t want to know what would happen if any ectoplasm got into her system.

Tucker offered her a sad smile. “Danny hates it when we fight.”

“Yeah… I do, too.”

“Me too.”

Tucker dropped the soiled cotton pad onto the floor and reached for a clean one. “We’ve gotta get our shit together, you know?”

She knew. Danny had always been the glue that kept Sam and Tucker together. It was unsaid, but they both knew they never would’ve become friends without their optimistic, sarcastic, space-loving best friend. They’d always needed him to keep their trio together.

Now, bruised and broken, Danny needed them.

“Tucker… how is he going to recover from this?”

Tucker stopped wiping Sam’s cheek for a moment, pensive. “We’re gonna help him, right? It’s what friends do.” He flashed her a smile. “Danny said you walked him through changing forms. So we’re just gonna have to keep it up. You and me. Until we’re sure he’s okay.”

He held out a fist, back to his normal, goofy self. Sam smiled and tapped her knuckles on his, returning the gesture. “You and me, Tuck.”

For a guy who made jokes at all the wrong times, he sure knew what to say to make her feel better. If Tucker can get his shit together… so can I.

Tucker gave her cheek one last wipe and stood up. “Speaking of helping Danny, how are we gonna-“

Beep beep beep!

They stopped. Tucker pulled out his phone. His eyes widened. “It’s Danny.”

“Don’t just stand there, answer it! What if he fell down or something?”

Tucker flipped it open and held the phone to his ear. He headed towards the attic stairs.

“Dude, are you hurt? If your ghost stuff is acting up again, I can-“

Tucker stopped mid-step at the top of the stairs, frozen in place.

Sam’s brow furrowed. “…Tucker? What’s he saying?”

Tucker turned back to Sam with a grimace, mouthing something she couldn’t make out. It’s chance…?  She heard muffled chatter on the other end of the line.

“What?” Sam asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

Tucker laughed nervously, panic in his eyes. “Oh nooo Jazz, he’s fine! ”

Sam froze. Panic swelled in her chest – she immediately tried to push it back down, as she’d forced herself to do all night. Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe Jazz just didn’t know where Danny was and hadn’t seen the portal… unless something had changed in the last few months, Sam knew Jazz avoided the Fenton lab like the plague. She hated talking about ghosts. What was wrong with an impromptu sleepover between three friends?

“Yeah, no, I get it… NO!” He let out another shaky laugh. “I mean, uh, no need to do that! He’s with us… Uh, no, with me and my family. Nothing to worry about. I mean… sure…” Tucker walked hurriedly towards his notebook and flipped it open to a random page. He clicked the pen and scratched something down. “Okay, yeah…” 

He shoved the notebook in Sam’s direction. JAZZ ON HER WAY NOW .

Chapter Text

Danny opened the door to Tucker's bathroom as quietly as he could, his mind on the Foleys asleep downstairs. They shouldn't hear him creeping around, but the stakes were high if they woke up and saw him. His legs felt like lead, but he knew he couldn't stop until he was safely behind closed doors. Moving was getting a little easier as the night went on – but not by much.

Huh, didn't know Tucker put a nightlight in here, Danny thought, entering the dimly-lit bathroom and closing the door behind him. He turned to acknowledge himself in the mirror.

Oh.

There was no nightlight – the toxic glow of his body illuminated the room, casting long, ominous shadows on the walls. Neon, too-bright eyes stared out at him. Danny winced, embarrassed.

I look so scary, he thought, immediately surprised at the harshness of his own thoughts.

He flicked on the light. You've got bigger things to worry about than your looks, Fenton.

He didn't look much better in the normal lighting. The aura around his body didn't seem as bright, but now he could see his injuries in all their disgusting glory. He leaned closer, inspecting his face. His swollen nose was set at a slightly odd angle – he didn't know much about injuries, but it had to be broken. He was thankful the throbbing had stopped when he changed forms, at least. Perks of not having a heartbeat. His burns were now scabby and blistered rather than oozing ectoplasm as they were this morning. He was sure they'd still look fresh, they seemed to be healing fast. Making progress, he thought.

He stood up straight and set Tucker's outfit on the counter. He brushed a hand through his white hair. Even disregarding the injuries, Danny barely looked like himself. He looked like…

"…a monster," he whispered to himself, that fuzzy voice still foreign to his ears.

He wondered how Sam and Tucker had reacted when he fell out of the portal. He'd only caught a glimpse of their faces before he passed out. Honestly, he wasn't sure what he'd do if one of them stumbled out of the portal, suddenly a ghost. Images of his childhood flooded back to him – playing ghost hunter with Jazz, shooting her with his Nerf gun when it was her turn to play the part of the ecto-entity, both of them squealing with delight.

Danny imagined himself panicking as a ghostly Sam tumbled out of the portal. Nabbing the nearest piece of Fenton ghost equipment and setting it on her until she was dead. His parents coming downstairs, congratulating him for neutralizing the threat.

Danny's stomach churned, disgusted with himself. He forced himself to cut off the scenario, focusing on his eyes in the mirror. You're the threat now.

He turned away, unable to look at himself anymore.

"Focus," he mumbled. "Shower."

Danny started to reach for the zipper near his neck but thought better of it. What if there's ectoplasm under here? How are we gonna explain that mess to Mr. and Mrs. Foley?

He climbed into the bathtub instead, stiffly lifting each pained leg slowly over the rim. Finally, he allowed his body the break it cried out for, sinking down into a sitting position. He leaned against the side of the tub and gripped the zipper, pulling it down to his navel.

The clothing destabilized, dissolving into ectoplasm the second it peeled away from his body.

Danny tried not to gag at the slimy, cold fluid soaking into the shirt he wore underneath the suit and dripping onto his still-intact pants. It felt like a frozen slug wrapping around his body. He noted that the colors on his tee shirt must have changed from the portal too, dyeing his white tee shirt black. He reached behind his neck to grab the collar of his tee shirt, quickly peeling the disgusting, soaked fabric off of his body. The moment the shirt was off, it liquefied in his hands, dousing his pants even more. Ectoplasm slithered down the drain.

Danny huffed and closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself for the remainder of his stupidly intensive wardrobe change. Can't just ONE thing be easy today? Do I really need ghost CLOTHES along with the creepy ghost powers? Why can't-

The bathroom door knob turned.

Danny's eyes shot open. He leaned forward, too fast for the injured state he was in, and gripped the shower curtain, yanking it backwards to conceal himself. Shampoo bottles tumbled into the tub, clattering loudly. He leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the room from spinning. He heard the door swing open and close again.

"Occupied," he said, weakly. Nice going, loser, what kind of IDIOT forgets to lock the bathroom door?

"Danny, it's me," Sam said, urgency in her tone. He heard her lock the bathroom door.

A frown twitched on Danny's lips. "Didn't anyone teach you to knock?"

Sam ignored the quip. "Danny-"

"I'm fine, you guys don't have to keep worrying about me. Just-"

"Jazz is on her way. Now."

"Great, just what I need right now." His voice cracked, betraying how upset he was. His mind screamed for him to stand up and rush out of the house, but the lingering dizziness kept him cemented to the base of the tub.

Sam's hand came into sight and grabbed the edge of the shower curtain hesitantly. "Can I…?"

Danny sighed, defeated. He hated when people saw him without a shirt. "…Yeah." He looked down at the disgusting mess that made the bathtub into a ghostly crime scene. "Just don't freak out, okay?"

Sam pulled the curtain back, eyes widening and flashing at his bare chest for a moment before looking away, blushing. "Sorry, I didn't, uh… are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Believe it or not this is my suit, so… no more injuries for now. Could I maybe get a hand?" Danny reached out towards Sam, withdrawing it when he saw all the ectoplasm splashed onto his skin. "Oh, uh…"

Sam bent down and gripped his hand anyways, pulling him to his feet. Danny stumbled for a moment but managed to stay upright. "Save it," Sam said, eyes on the ceiling. Danny sent her a silent thank you. She knew how much being shirtless bothered him. "After tonight, I'm gonna be desensitized to this goop forever."

With no sleeves to hold them up, the pants of his jumpsuit slithered down to his feet, revealing his jeans and dissolving into a puddle. Danny chuckled nervously, eyes darting away from Sam. Thank god I have clothes on underneath this stupid thing… He grabbed the waistband of his jeans, paranoid that they'd slide down to his ankles next.

Sam's blush intensified. She turned away from Danny bashfully, crossing her arms. "Do you think you can change back? I don't know how long it'll be before Jazz gets here. Tucker's stalling on the phone for has long as he can."

"I should be able to… Jazz coming over isn't too big of a deal, right?" Danny chuckled, trying to conceal his terror. "I mean… I learned how to change back, you know, thanks to you. And I haven't, like, turned invisible or anything since we got to Tucker's. Maybe the ghost energy in my body is just burning itself out, or something," Danny rambled, words spilling from his lips too quickly.

Danny hoped his lie was convincing. He was already terrified, and the added anxiety of lying to one of his best friends just made it worse. If he had a heartbeat, he knew he'd feel it pounding in his ears. Going home meant seeing his parents… his trigger-happy, ghost-hating parents. He'd rather sleep in the school, in the park, anywhere that kept him from seeing his mom and dad. But if Tucker had already told Jazz where he was, he knew he didn't have time to escape. He'd have to face them. Even if he miraculously stayed human… how could he explain his injuries?

Danny looked at Sam, realizing she hadn't spoken in a while. Her head was tucked down, her shoulders seemed stiff. "…Sam?"

She sniffed and let out a shaky breath. Danny knew by now that was the sound of her crying. "Danny, I know when you're lying to me," she said, frustrated. "We've known each other for how long? Please, just save it. You don't have to pretend to be okay."

Danny faltered. He wished he was better with emotions. Better yet, he wished he was good at lying, so he didn't have to worry his friends so much.

"…Yeah, okay. You got me. This is gonna suck."

Sam let out a bark of a laugh and looked over her shoulder at him, flashing him a shaky smile through her tears. "Thank you." She turned away again, this time with less tension in her shoulders. "If there's one person you don't have to lie to Danny, it's me. I want to be here for you." She cleared her throat, bringing an arm up to wipe her face. "I want to help you."

Danny smiled, trying to cover his guilt. Impulsively, he covered his discomfort with a quip. "Any way that help includes sneaking me out of the Foley house in the next ten minutes?" It's my fault you even HAVE to help me. I knew that portal was dangerous, I knew something could've happened.

"Fat chance," Sam said with another rough laugh.

"C'mon, we could sprint out of here in no time! Do you have any idea how long I'll have to listen to my dad brag about that working ghost portal?" If it weren't for me, you'd be asleep at home, not sobbing in the Foley bathroom. You HATE crying.

"I'll start with some advice – rinse off. There's no way you can see your parents looking like that."

Danny looked down at his body: His torso was relatively clean, but it still shone with a faint glow from the residual ghost matter. His jeans were completely saturated – he wondered briefly what color they would be if they weren't so coated with goo.

"Noted." Danny grabbed the shower curtain and pulled it shut, eager to hide his exposed chest. "Uh, would you mind-"

"I'll wait outside," Sam said with another sniff. Danny heard the door unlock and her heavy boots step out onto the carpet. The door clicked shut behind her.

Danny sighed. He wished taking a deep breath brought the marginal relief it did when he was a human. Danny stepped out of the tub, ensuring to lock the door this time. His feet left green prints on the ground. He made a mental note to wipe them up post-shower as he stepped back into the tub. Danny bent down and removed the rest of his clothes, letting them dissolve down the brain as they transformed into ectoplasm.

He aimed the shower nozzle away from his body and turned on the water, letting it stream down for a second to warm up before rotating it back to-

"Agh! GOD!"

Danny sidestepped the scalding stream of water, quickly cranking the hot water dial off. Danny face-palmed, embarrassed at his lack of foresight. If Sam and Tucker's hands felt like they were radiating heat, why wouldn't the shower water feel hotter than normal?

He reached a hesitant hand out into the water stream. He knew the water should be frigid, but it just felt like room temperature to him. He shrugged to himself and stepped back under the stream – it was colder than he normally would have liked, but he didn't have time to fiddle with the shower dials with Jazz on her way. Danny picked up the bottles that had clattered into the tub and held them under the stream for a moment, making sure they were clean of ectoplasm before placing them back on the ledge of the bath. He took the last bottle – some of Tucker's homemade body wash – and squirted a handful into his palm.

Thank god this one smells somewhat normal, Danny thought, giving it a tentative sniff. Tucker tended to create… experimental scents, to put it kindly. Danny worked the soap into a lather and rubbed it all over his body from head to toe, trying to clean the ecto-residue off of his skin as fast as possible.

Danny studied his body as he scrubbed. Luckily, he didn't seem to have too many bodily injuries. His skin was raw on his left palm – the hand that pressed the "on" button inside the portal. The skin on his back felt sore as well, but he didn't have time to inspect it in the mirror. Satisfied with his cleaning job, he cranked the faucet, turning the water off. He reached for the towel on the rack, only to pause.

Do I… need to shower looking like a human, too? Danny clenched his jaw in frustration, already anticipating the answer. Nothing tonight had been simple, there was absolutely no way this would be, either.

Danny sat down on the edge of the bathtub, facing towards the basin, anticipating the upcoming wave of nausea. At least now I won't have to keep my vomit down, he thought with a grimace, remembering how easily the ectoplasm had slithered down the drain.

Danny closed his eyes, trying to conjure the feeling of turning human. He tried to gather the energy coursing freely through his body and herd it towards his navel – but he found it much more difficult than conjuring the energy to turn ghostly. It felt like trying to catch butterflies in a net, the second he caught a few, the rest flitted away.

Danny groaned after several minutes, frustrated. How had he turned human before? Tucker had said the first time was in the lab, when he fainted. The next time he was conscious for, in the Casper High hallways. He forced himself to recall the weakness in his knees, the dizziness, the complete depletion of energy. He'd felt like this all night – constantly dealing with the next painful and upsetting trick his body wanted to play on him.

Despite himself, tears pooled at his eyes. He felt like a whining, pouty child, which upset him even more.

Would he ever have a normal day again? He'd give anything to turn back time, to make it so his biggest worry was Sam's opinion of him or an upcoming quiz in Lancer's. He'd wanted to study with Jazz after Sam and Tucker left – now all he wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up. To get a break from the pain, the confusion, his overwhelming exhaustion.

Tears flowed freely now. He clamped his hands over his mouth so Sam couldn't hear him. His hands irritated the burns on his face, amplifying the scream in his head.

IT'S NOT FAIR.

Danny felt powerless and pitiful, like he was curling up inside of himself. Just like he had in the Casper hallways when he collapsed.

White light sprung from his waist.

Chapter Text

Jazz tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, glaring at the red light, as if that would make it change faster. One of Jazz's favorite songs played on the radio, but it just sounded like irritating white noise. She reached over to the radio and flipped through the channels. Nothing provided the distraction she yearned for. She jabbed a finger at the power button with a huff. Silence filled the car, leaving Jazz alone with her thoughts. She looked out the window, away from the dashboard.

Her phone call with Tucker had amplified the niggling suspicion in the back of her mind into full-blown anxiety. What did Tucker mean by Danny's 'ghost stuff' acting up…?

A car honked behind her. Jazz gasped and snapped her head back to the road, glancing at the now-green light. She slammed on the gas, lurching her car forward into the intersection. Jazz shook her head, ashamed at herself. You're so nervous that you're driving just like DAD.

She had no idea what chaos had possibly gotten the Fenton Portal to turn on. She'd tried theorizing, but in the end decided that it was counter-productive. It's not like she knew anything about how "ghost" tech worked these days – she intentionally tuned her parents out whenever they went on one of their long-winded explanations.

She'd need to ask Danny or his friends herself. Tucker or Sam would never answer a phone call from her if they were letting Danny hide out with them – which is why she used Danny's cell phone that he'd left in the lab.

Jazz had settled into her desk chair before scrolling through Danny's contacts and dialing Tucker's number.

As expected, Tucker picked up after only a few rings. What she hadn't expected was Tucker's immediate assumption.

"Dude, are you hurt?"

Her heart stopped.

"If your ghost stuff is acting up again, I can-"

Jazz hadn't been able to resist cutting in.

She was kicking herself over it in hindsight. Who knows how much additional information he was ready to divulge? And what did I do? Interrupt him! Stupid!

"Danny's hurt!?" Jazz exclaimed, beginning to panic, talking louder and quicker than she would've preferred. "I went downstairs and the Fenton Portal is on! I know you were there for it, there was green goop all over the lab. Did you guys seriously think nobody would notice the huge mess you made?"

She could feel herself being an overbearing older sister, but she knew it was warranted this time. Danny needed someone to keep him from getting into trouble, and to come help when he was in too deep. Their parents never did for them, so as always, it was up to her. Danny and his friends would understand when they were older… like she had.

"Tucker, where is my brother? And you better not lie to me this time."

Images of every time Tucker had lied to cover his best friend's ass flashed through Jazz's mind. Whether it was something as small as a bad grade on a test or something as serious as Danny having anxiety issues at school, Tucker put his best friend's secrets before everything. Why can't they see how counter-productive that is? That I could help if they just let me in?

"Oh nooo Jazz, he's fine!"

Tucker's voice crackled over the speaker, but Jazz could still sense his nervousness. She doubled down.

"Yeah, my go-to opener for phone calls is 'are you hurt.' Really, Tucker? You know I can't just drop this if Danny hurt himself."

"Yeah, no, I get it…"

Jazz let out a short huff. "Good. Then tell me where my brother is or I'm gonna start by telling our parents what happened, then I'm going to call your parents and tell them their son's been playing around radioactive ghost equipment."

"NO!"

It was a low blow, Jazz knew. She didn't actually plan on calling Mr. and Mrs. Foley – she knew as well as Tucker that they'd ban their son from ever seeing Danny again if they knew how reckless their ghost hunter parents were with their experiments. Danny barely had friends – Jazz wasn't about to rip his support system out from under him.

But she wasn't above using this knowledge to manipulate Tucker. The thing that mattered most right now was making sure Danny was safe.

"I mean, uh, no need to do that! He's with us…"

"You and Sam?" Jazz asked, surprised that Sam had already recovered from their fight earlier that evening.

"Uh, no, with me and my family. Nothing to worry about."

Jazz nodded to herself. That makes more sense, after the way Sam stormed out earlier.

"Great. Then you won't mind if I swing by and see my little brother? If you're right, if he really is fine, I'll leave you two to your slumber party. Fair?"

"I mean… sure…"

Jazz grabbed her car keys off of her desk and stood up. "Fantastic. See you soon, Tucker," she said with an air of authority that left no room for argument.

"Okay, yeah…"

"You can tell Danny I'm on my way. I'll call you when I get there," Jazz said, hanging up.

Now, she pulled up outside the Foley's house. Her knuckles protested when she released the steering wheel – she realized she'd been gripping it tight enough to leave fingernail marks in the leather. Why am I so nervous?

Tucker's tone made Danny's injuries upsettingly obvious, but… what if she was wrong? Or what if he's more hurt than I imagine?

Jazz imagined Danny and his friends tossing around a piece of broken Fenton equipment, then the machinery exploding as it landed in her brother's arms.

Jazz reached for her phone in her pocket, her fingers made clumsy with her anxiety. She scrolled down to Tucker's contact and hit dial. She kept her eyes glued to Tucker's front door as she held the phone up to her ear.

Ring… Ring…

Jazz took a shaky breath.

Ring…

This is Tucker's phone, leave me your name, number-

The door opened.

It was hard to see from this distance, but a dark silhouette, unmistakably her brother, stepped out onto the porch. His shoulders were tense, held up by his ears, and his arms were folded tight in front of his body. Jazz's eyes flicked over the dark shape of her brother, scanning for any injuries. Although she couldn't make out the details, Danny seemed to be walking fine, at least.

He trudged across Tucker's lawn, keeping his eyes on the ground. His body became more clear as the headlights from her car reached him. She noticed that he was wearing different clothes – a green sweater she'd never seen before, but otherwise, he seemed fine. Maybe they were playing a prank on me?

Jazz rolled the passenger-side window of her car down. Danny fidgeted his arms awkwardly as he stopped right outside the car, keeping his head ducked down, staring at the concrete. His too-long hair obscured his face.

"Hey, um… sorry I ran off, but I'm fine, okay? You can, uh… you can go home, Jazz. I'm fine."

There he goes again, with the obvious lies! He always stutters when he lies.

Jazz sighed, collecting herself. Getting angry at Danny right now would do nothing productive. She had to be the mature one here. Nobody else was going to. "Danny, Tucker sounded really concerned for you on the phone. And… and I saw the portal."

Danny re-positioned his crossed arms, hugging his torso. "The portal's working? How did… why did, uh… I mean, that's great for Mom and Dad, that they got it working."

"Danny, I know it was you," Jazz said gently. "After the way they've been acting, do you really think Mom and Dad would touch that thing with a ten-foot pole?"

"Yeah, right. You really think I'd know how to fix any Fenton equipment?"

Jazz shifted in her seat and reached into her back pocket. She pulled out a small square and held it out to Danny. The Polaroid of him in front of the portal.

"I didn't tell them."

Danny raised his head to look at the photo, eyes widening. He snatched it out of her hand, looking at it closer.

A whimper of concern escaped Jazz's lips before she could stop herself.

Danny didn't seem to notice. "You… you didn't? Why not?" He looked at her. He had the ghost of a smile on his face and his voice shook, like he wasn't sure he could believe her.

She tried to hold his gaze, but her eyes kept flicking to the wounds. Scabs covered nearly half his face, angry and red. His nose seemed swollen, like he'd been punched. She tried to stay calm. But she couldn't. "Danny, what happened? What did you do!?"

Danny opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. He sighed through his nose and looked away from her. Jazz watched his eyes flitter about in thought, doubtlessly searching for what to say.

After a moment he turned back to her, flashing a toothy smile. He lowered his stiff arms, dropping the tension in his upper body. "I'm fine, Jazz," he said with a chuckle. "It's not as bad as it looks, I swear."

Jazz's eyes widened. She knew he was lying. It only took one look at his injuries to guess that. But his grin looked like any of his usual casual smirks. No stutter to be found. He's getting better at lying, she thought. But why? Why lie about this?

"You came to take me home, right? C'mon, let's go." Danny shoved the photo into his pocket and flung open the passenger door. He plopped down into the seat, as casually as if they were driving to school together.

Whyyyyy did I do that so quickly!? Danny screamed in his mind. Sitting down faster isn't going to make her less suspicious, loser!

His spine sent shooting waves of pain throughout his body. He buckled his seatbelt, hoping the stiffer-than-normal gesture didn't betray how much discomfort he was in.

Jazz's eyes tracked his movement, her lips pinched together in a tight line. Danny knew that look – she was hyper-analyzing him, like always. Danny looked out the passenger side window, trying to calm his nerves. He could see Sam and Tucker's silhouettes in the Foley's attic window. He focused on them. He had to be brave for them.

He heard Jazz's keys jingle. The car revved to life. "Danny, we're not going home until you tell me what's going on." Danny looked over at his sister. She put the car in drive and pulled out into the road. At least she can't stare me down while she's driving.

"Where are we going, then?"

Jazz shrugged. "Listen, little brother, I'm just going to be honest with you. You know how Mom and Dad get when they've invented something new… now imagine how they're acting now that they think they've made something that actually works. Do you think that's what you need to hear right now?"

"…No." Danny said, quieter than he would have liked.

"I didn't think so either." Jazz looked over at him as they pulled to a stop at a red light. "Danny, something happened to you. I'm not stupid. I saw the mess in the lab. Mom and Dad might be blind, but…" Jazz sighed. "I just want you to know I care about you, Danny."

Danny looked back out his window, catching his reflection in the glass. His human eyes stared back at him. He lifted a hand up and gently pulled his upper eyelid towards his brow to get a better look. The same blue as always. No hint at what he actually was now.

"…Danny?"

Danny tore his gaze away from his reflection and looked back at his sister. She shot him frantic sidelong glances, trying to look at him while obligation kept her eyes mostly on the road.

"Are you listening?"

"Yeah, I just-"

A wave of cold washed over Danny. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly wracked with shivers despite the thick sweater Tucker had let him borrow. His breath escaped his mouth in clouds. "C-can we turn off the AC?" His teeth chattered as he grew more irritated with his sister. "Jeez, is this some new torture method to get me to talk? You're gonna freeze me to death."

Danny reached for the temperature dial, cranking it towards the red "hot" indicator. The knob stayed in place – it was already on the hottest setting. He reached for the fan speed next, turning it all the way up. The heater roared. He felt the hot air blasting on him, but it did nothing to heat him up. It was like holding a hand warmer while naked in a snow storm.

Jazz took off her long-sleeved cardigan and threw it in the back of the car. Mercifully, she said nothing about his sudden chills. "Have you eaten, Danny?"

Food should have been the last thing on his mind right now, after how many times he'd thrown up. But the frigid temperature made him crave a warm meal. Danny told himself he couldn't give Jazz an inch, because she always took a mile whenever he showed weakness. "I'm f-f-fine."

Jazz looked at Danny, studying him up and down. He returned her gaze with a scowl, trying to act confident in his shaky answer. His body suddenly heated back up, making the hot air blasting out of the dash stifling. Danny's heart pounded. There's no way Jazz was cold too. It was just me. Are my eyes glowing? He desperately searched his reflection in the window, but the lights rolling by kept him from seeing clearly. Oh GOD, she can tell, she knows. SHE KNOWS!

With a quick eye roll and a sigh, Jazz turned on her car's blinker. "Come on. Let me get you something."

She knows. She's going to go get the Fenton Ghost Exterminator, or something ten times worse. Oh my god, this is it. I should've ran from Tucker's place when I had the chance. Now I'm going to die AGAIN.

"…Danny? Hello?"

Jazz's voice pulled Danny out of his thoughts. "Uh… sorry…"

"I said: 'I'm heading to Nasty Burger, does that sound good?' We're close, and I think their drive-thru is still open."

"Oh… yeah, sure." His voice came out quiet, he could barely hear himself over the car's fans. "Thanks."

Can I even eat? Do ghosts eat?

Danny pictured himself vomiting after the first small bite of human food, his body poisoned by it like he'd seen in vampire movies. Writhing on the floor of Jazz's sedan while she screamed. She'd have no idea what to do or why he was so sick.

Danny leaned forward and turned off the overwhelming heat.

Jazz shot him a quizzical look. "I thought you said you were cold?"

"Yeah, uh, I mean, I was." Danny tried to think fast. "Sorry. Maybe I'm getting sick."

An emotion flickered over Jazz's face, something Danny couldn't pin down. Her eyes focused back on the road.

Danny looked down at the backs of his hands, which rested in his lap. They looked the same as they always did. His fingernails were still jagged from his bad habit of picking at them when he was frustrated. He still had a freckle on his left wrist. He still had a faint scar on the side of his right hand, where a dog had bit him after he messed with it a little too much when he was 5, the reason his parents had never let him get a puppy. Once an irresponsible loser, always an irresponsible loser. You just can't leave dangerous things alone, can you, Fenton?

Even though they looked the same, he knew they'd never again belong to average, human Danny Fenton. Whatever he was now – dead, not dead, whatever – he wasn't human. He knew that.

He flipped his hands over to look at the palms. His eyes immediately fell to the burn on his left hand. He hadn't even noticed it with the jumpsuit on, everything else had hurt so much worse. His right hand had a dark bruise he hadn't noticed before, maybe from falling out of the portal… or on the ground at Casper High, or-

"Danny, do you know what you want?"

"Jazz, seriously, I'm fine. I don't want anything." They turned into the Nasty Burger parking lot, coasting up to the empty drive-thru as Jazz rolled down her window. Danny couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the Nasty Burger parking lot so empty. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard – 11:29 pm.

The drive-thru speaker crackled to life. Welcome to Nasty Burger, what can I get for you? The teen on the other end sounded like he was ready to die of boredom any second.

Jazz leaned out the window. "Hi, could I please get the Mighty Mini Meaty Cheesy Melt, please? And one Nasty Burger with fries?"

Danny sighed. Of course she knew his order by heart. He knew she just wanted to help, but eating food meant more time trapped in this car with her.

More time where something could go horribly wrong.

Chapter Text

Danny stared at the package of Nasty Burger fries in his hand. The world's first experiment on ghosts' ability to eat human food is about to take place in Jazz's sedan. Great.

His hunger had hit him like a train when that delicious, greasy bag of fast food entered the car. He was ravenous. The only thing he had eaten that day was his mom's pancakes, and all the vomiting he'd done had gotten rid of any trace of those hours ago. At the thought of his mom, a twinge of concern twisted his heart. He hoped she was feeling at least a little better after he got the portal working.

Danny turned to Jazz to find her already staring at him, hyper-analytical as always. She looked away quickly and took a bite of her sandwich, trying and failing to look casual. He could see the tension in her shoulders. "Can't you eat something, Danny?" Jazz asked after swallowing. "For me?"

Danny shrugged and shoved a single fry in his mouth. Here goes nothing. He swallowed and steeled himself, ready for a sudden ghostly glow or incredible pain.

…Nothing.

Danny beamed. "You know, if only one thing got to go right today, I'm glad it was Nasty Burger," he laughed, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. Nothing happened! I can eat like NORMAL!

"It's no big deal, Danny. I'm happy you like it." Jazz said, visibly relaxing. "We can hang out here for as long as you want, okay? If-"

"'If?'" Danny questioned, his mouth full of more French fries.

Jazz sighed and started again. "…I need to know what's going on with you, Danny. I'm worried about you, and I can't just pretend like everything's okay when you look like…" She gestured at his face. "…like someone set you on fire or something."

Danny shoved the last of the fries in his mouth, trying to buy a few seconds of time. He knew Jazz cared about him, but how was he supposed to explain everything that had happened to him tonight? He doubted even Sam and Tucker would trust his story, if they hadn't been there themselves. And Sam believed in ghosts.

Jazz didn't.

Danny first found out Jazz didn't believe in ghosts back in elementary school.

It was in third grade, and he'd cried the entire bus ride home. The embarrassment of crying in front of his classmates didn't compare to how mortifying it was to learn that his entire life was based on a lie. A fairy tale.

When he finally got home, he shoved right by his mom with a grunt, who was holding her arms out for a hug. Danny remembered the hurt on her face – remembered how little he cared. Mom was stupid. Mom was a liar.

He barged into Jazz's room and slammed the door behind him, letting his silent tears turn into a wail. He blubbered to Jazz, explaining how he had tried to find ghost books in the elementary school's library but could only find them in the fantasy section. He had gone to the librarian for help.

"Excuse me, why aren't there any ghost books in the non-fiction section?" Danny had asked. And she'd laughed in his face.

"Oh, honey, ghosts aren't real," she'd said. As if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Danny expected Jazz to break into tears too at this horrible revelation. But Jazz just held him as he cried, stroking his hair. Already playing the role of a mentor, even in elementary school.

When Danny finally asked her why she wasn't crying too, she answered so quietly.

"I already knew," she whispered. "I just wanted to keep the magic alive for you for a little longer. I wanted things to stay easy for you."

At the time, this made him furious. But he'd quickly understood.

Jazz had let him cry, and Jazz shared his feelings of betrayal. When he later confronted his parents, they'd just yelled at him for talking back and for not believing in ghosts. They were almost frantic in how defensive they were. The whole world didn't understand, only they knew the truth. They didn't even try to hear him out. He'd felt so small, so helpless.

Now every rant about ghosts from his dad, every new useless "ghost" invention, every time his parents tried to tell him how close to a break-through they were with the portal – it made him seethe with anger.

Anger that turned to pity and annoyance as he got older. Jazz was the only person that understood what that felt like.

Danny felt tears pool at the memory. He scrubbed at them quickly with his sleeve. I'm just tired, he told himself.

He jumped when a familiar hand landed on his head. He lowered his sleeve and looked to his left. Jazz stroked his hair, a small, reassuring smile on her face. The same one she always wore whenever she tried to make him feel better. Danny hadn't seen that expression in years.

Danny gently nudged her hand away, embarrassed at the additional reminder of their childhood. Her smile faltered, and he sighed. He knew he was opening a can of worms by starting a conversation with Jazz about this. "What do you wanna know?"

Jazz knew her approach had to be careful. She was his older sister – one wrong move and she knew Danny would shut down, thinking she's being bossy and overbearing. These last few weeks he'd opened up to her more than he had since they were kids. She couldn't ruin it now.

Danny was clearly in emotional distress as well as physical – his movements were too jerky and he was spacing out even more than normal. As much as she wanted to jump into a therapy session to help him tackle whatever inner demons he was plagued with right now, Danny always struggled to identify his emotions and was hesitant to share them out loud. She'd start with something factual, easy to answer.

She wrapped up her cheese melt and placed her hands in her lap. "Can you tell me how you got the portal working?" Jazz asked gently.

Danny chuckled, a sardonic smirk on his injured face. He tossed the empty fry container back into the Nasty Burger bag and grabbed his burger and some sauce packets. "Leave it up to Dad to install the power button on the inside of an invention."

There's no way. "Danny, are you serious?" Jazz snapped, unable to conceal her shock.

Danny looked up from his burger, which he was slathering with sauce. "What, not a Nasty Sauce fan? C'mon, Jazz, this stuff is to die for."

Jazz massaged her temples in a quick show of irritation. WHY does Danny always have to make EVERYTHING a joke!? "You know what I mean! You're saying you were… inside when it turned on!?"

Danny shrugged, avoiding eye contact. He took a big bite of his hamburger and stared out the windshield.

Jazz knew she'd pushed him too hard. She dropped her hands from her temples and rested them in her lap again. She longed to give him a hug, to tell him it was okay now, that he didn't have to joke about this. That it's okay to cry. But she knew he'd just shove her away, closing himself off even more.

Danny swallowed and turned to face her. Jazz resisted the urge to wince at his injuries, which looked so much worse from the front. "Jazz, you said… you said you didn't tell Mom and Dad about me and the portal. Why not?"

Jazz's eyes fell to her hand in her lap as she tried to find the right words. "To be honest, I was going to tell them I didn't know where you were, but I never got the chance. You know how Mom and Dad get when ghosts are involved. So I started thinking: if you were hurt, if you were scared, I really couldn't deal with them just brushing it off so they could get back to that dumb Fenton portal." Jazz looked back to her brother – her poor, beat-up brother. "Or worse, just yell at you for trashing the lab or something once we found you."

Danny let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah… that sounds like them. Thanks, Jazz." He looked away, hesitating. Trying to find the right words for something. "Can I tell you something else, about what happened with the working ghost portal?"

"Danny, there's no way that thing actually works. Come on, you really think that piece of junk is connected to a ghost dimension? We know ghosts aren't real, Danny. We've been over this." And now their parents' stupid obsession with fictional monsters had real, violent consequences on one of their children.

Danny seemed to deflate. He looked out his window, scowling. "Whatever."

"Danny, I'm just trying to look out for you, okay? I'm worried. Not only did I find ectoplasm all over the lab, but now I find out you got burned by one of Mom and Dad's inventions, too? And you're talking like ghosts are real?"

"If ghosts aren't real, then how's ectoplasm real, huh?" Danny snapped suddenly.

Jazz flinched at his tone. "You know that's not what I meant! It's just some nonsense they made or found somewhere. 'Ectoplasm' is just shorter to say than 'figment of our parents' imagination.'"

Danny huffed. "Yeah… you're right, Jazz. As always."

Jazz knew he was making a dig at her, but she didn't back down. There was absolutely no way she was wrong about the existence of ghosts. Of course that wasn't actually ectoplasm in the lab. It couldn't be. She couldn't let her brother fall into their parents' delusion just because he needed to justify the pain he went through. Danny surely had acute trauma from what he'd experienced – denial and shame were common side effects. Of course he'd try to construct a valid reason for what he'd been through.

But there was no valid reason, certainly nothing to do with ghosts. Nothing other than her parents' continued self-deception and their inability to put proper safety measures on their experiments had caused Danny the pain he'd been through tonight.

Jazz reached for Danny's head, ready to stroke his hair like she always did when he was upset. "Listen, Danny-"

He slapped her hand away with his left arm, using the other to suddenly cover his eyes. "Please, Jazz, can you just take me home now? Please?" His voice shook, but he didn't seem to be crying. Jazz hoped he wasn't having a flashback to the moment he got his injuries.

She reached for her keys and put them in the ignition. The whir of the motor did nothing to dampen the awkward silence filling the car.

"Whatever lie you want to tell them, I'll go along with it. I'm sorry you had to go through this," Jazz said quietly.

Danny gave a curt nod without removing his arm from his eyes.

Jazz sighed. She knew the conversation was over.

Chapter Text

Sam adjusted the stack of books bundled in her left arm and sandwiched her cell phone between her ear and shoulder, freeing her right arm to grab another book from the Skulk and Lurk bookshelf.

“Well, do you think we should go check on him?”

Tucker sighed on the other end of the line. “It’s been less than two days, Sam. I’m sure he’s just busy trying to explain everything to Jazz and his parents.”

Sam flipped the tan book over and read the synopsis: ‘The Chronicles of the Fright Knight’ details the tale of the age-old spirit of Halloween. Learn about the terrifying legend of the Soul Shredder and Fright Knight’s ghoulish steed Nightmare in this-

Yawn. Sam put the book back. She needed general information about ghostly abilities, not cheesy made-up legends.

“But what if he needs us?”

A groan on the line. “Look Sam, you can try calling him again if you want, but we’re gonna see him tomorrow at school anyways. Going over there isn’t gonna do anything but piss his parents off even more than I’m sure they already are.”

“But-“

“Sam, I’m worried too, okay…? Listen, why don’t you come over? What are you doing the rest of the afternoon?”

Sam pulled down another book. This one was from the Goth’s Guide series, one of her favorites. Goth’s Guide to Ghosts. Perfect. She added it to the small stack in her left arm.

“I was supposed to go shopping with my mom today for a prom dress. Obviously, I snuck away at the first opportunity.” Sam snorted. “I’m doing a little skulking and lurking downtown instead.”

“At the bookstore?”

“How’d you guess?” Sam asked sarcastically with a smile and an eye roll.

“Ha, ha,” Tucker said, deadpan. “When do you think you can be over?”

Sam turned away from the shelf and weaved through the various goths milling around, making her way toward the cash registers. “I dunno, maybe 30 minutes? But I really wanted to look through these ghost books before we saw Danny again.”

“Well, why don’t you just bring ‘em over? We can look together. Beats studying for Lancer’s.”

Sam snorted. “You know, that actually sounds great. Thanks, Tucker.”

“What’d you pick up, anyways? Like, Pet Sematary? How’s that gonna help us?”

Sam reached the registers and stepped into line. “Now that you mention it Tucker, you’re right!” Sam exclaimed, the remark dripping with sarcasm. “If only I had some comic books to help us out instead.”

A beat of silence on the other end. “…Point taken. See you in 30?”

“See ya,” Sam said, snapping her flip phone closed.

She adjusted her small stack of books again, thumbing through the three titles. Goth’s Guide to Ghosts, Ghost Hunter’s Almanac, and Ectoplasm in Fiction by Dave Zama. Sam sighed to herself. She wished she could grab more books, as she had no idea which of these would actually be applicable to Danny. It didn’t boost her confidence that all three books were in the fiction section. If only this store didn’t have a stupid no-return policy. The Ghost Hunter’s Almanac seemed like a safe bet, even though they weren’t doing any ghost hunting, as a quick thumb-through the glossary cited a lot of Fenton research. She hoped that Ectoplasm in Fiction could give them some ideas on how Danny’s altered body worked. 

Sam stepped up to the cash register, finally first in line. “Hey, Spike. New piercing? I like it.”

Spike offered the ghost of a smile, the most she was ever able to get from the gloomy cashier. He tilted his eyebrow piercing towards Sam to offer her a better look. “Did it myself last night. Let me know if you ever want one too.”

Sam grimaced and set her books on the counter. “We both know my parents would kill me if I showed up with something like that.” If the infection from a home piercing didn’t kill me first, Sam thought. “Thanks, though.”

Spike shrugged. “Not like it made my parents very happy either.” He grabbed the barcode scanner and began to scan in her books. “Reading up for tonight?”

“What?”

 “It’s slam poetry night. Just assumed you were doing something on ghosts this week.”

“O-oh. Yeah. I actually completely forgot.” I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.

Spike’s brow furrowed. “You’ve been here every week for the last, what, month?”

“Yeah, well…” Sam’s expression darkened. There was no point in hiding it. “Guess some more important stuff came up. It’s hard to see the point in poetry lately… no offense.”

Spike offered another shrug, his features falling back into the unimpressed expression he usually wore. “I get it. It’ll be $32.50.”

Sam took off her purple spider backpack and fished around inside for her wallet. She took it out and produced a 100-dollar bill. “Thanks, Spike.”

She took a moment to be thankful for the Skulk and Lurk. This was the one place she didn’t have to pretend everything was okay, the one place that really accepted her, but… she couldn’t deny that it didn’t offer the same comfort it always had. This had been her safe haven when she couldn’t look how she wanted. But now, in comparison to the problems of the other goths, she felt more out of place than she did when she was forced to wear glittery pink dresses.

Spike’s biggest problem was his parents not understanding him – how could that compare to watching your best friend get obliterated in front of your eyes? Watching his spirit tumble to the ground, feeling his blood on your fingers, soaking into your clothes? Sam had thrown her Dumpty Humpty tee away the second she got home from Tucker’s. She knew she wouldn’t be able to wear it ever again without thinking about Danny’s death. Danny’s horrible, awful-

“Sam?”

Spike’s voice yanked Sam out of her thoughts. He held the black plastic bag filled with her books in one hand and her change in the other.

Sam took the items numbly and made her way out of the store. He’s not dead. He’s alive. He’s just… a ghost. She had to remind herself. Although it didn’t make her feel any better.

Against her better judgment, she flipped open her phone again and pressed 1 on her speed dial as she walked to her moped. A candid picture of Danny popped up on the screen, one of him at the Clear Sky Park Observation Center outside of town. He excitedly gestured at the sky with one hand, the other tightly gripping one of the telescopes on the observation deck. One of his contagious smiles was plastered on his face.

When’s the next time he’ll be able to smile like that? Sam thought, holding the phone up to her ear.

She already knew what she’d hear, but she waited for it anyways.

…Uh, hey, this is Danny Fenton. Leave a message, or you could just text me like it’s the 21^st century. Get back to you as soon as soon as I can. Thanks.

  At the tone, please record your message. When you’ve-

Sam sighed, hanging up. She didn’t want to annoy Danny with yet another voicemail. Where the hell is he? Sam thought as she opened her bag, fishing her keys out and setting her books and phone inside. She knew she couldn’t stop by the Fenton’s unannounced, especially not after her… performance for Jazz. By now, there was no doubt Jazz had found out she was lying.  

Sam took a deep breath and climbed onto her moped, fastening her helmet. She knew she’d just have to wait for tomorrow. If Danny didn’t show up to school…

No point in thinking about that right now. One thing at a time, she thought as she turned out into the road.

Although… what would be the harm in just driving by FentonWorks?

It’s not like anyone would notice her cruising by on the road – and if they did, she could casually ask about Danny. What’s so weird about a friend asking about another friend?

Her mind made up, Sam turned on her blinker and turned left, taking the slight detour to Danny’s house. She couldn’t stop herself from getting excited (or was it nervous?) as she approached.

The torture of a summer apart from her friends with no communication had nothing on yesterday. She’d spent the day pacing around her room, texting and calling Danny with no response, anxious out of her mind. She couldn’t get a particular scenario out of her head – Danny’s ghostly abilities going into overdrive and overwhelming him, burning the rest of his life force out. Danny disappearing without a trace. Searching the internet for ghost information didn’t help at all – all she got were results about scary movies and urban legends.

It’s why Sam had to go to the Skulk and Lurk today. It was the only place she could think of that could possibly have helpful information on-

Danny?

Unmistakably, a glowing green form hovered idly in the middle of the road, too far away for Sam to make out the details of the silhouette. That has to be Danny, she thought. She’d never seen anything else give off that distinct, ectoplasmic glow.

“Danny!” Sam shouted as she approached, speeding up. Danny seemed to flinch and dash away, a long tail snaking behind him.

Sam gassed it, following as close behind as she could. Sam was shocked that Danny had already gotten such a good handle on flying – her eyes widened as she watched his blurry green form turn invisible and phase through an oncoming car. Is he leading me back to FentonWorks?

The ghost turned right, around a corner and temporarily out of sight, zipping onto Danny’s street. Sam followed close behind, closing the distance fast.

“Danny!” Sam shouted again. Why the hell won’t he stop!?

He jerked again, finally coming to a sudden stop in front of FentonWorks – and disappearing in a sudden burst of light.

Sam skidded to a stop mere feet from where he’d been, letting her scooter scrape on the ground as she stumbled over to where he was floating.

“Danny? DANNY!? Please tell me you’re joking, come back!” Sam fell to the ground, searching for any remnant of her friend. Was this it? The moment she’d been fearing all weekend? The concrete stabbed into her knees and palms. “DANNY!”

Sam swallowed. There was nothing. Danny wasn't there anymore. It couldn't have been him, right? He was fine earlier. He had to be fine. He couldn't die for real! He had once already, and he came back. He had to be fine, he was fine. Sam knew he was, right? Right? She held him after the ghost portal, after every fall, and he was fine after. He had to be fine.

“Hey, kid!”

Sam’s head jerked towards the sound. The body of a giant, orange jumpsuit-clad man filled the doorway for FentonWorks. Jack huffed, irritated. “Stop shouting so loudly out here!” He shouted, loudly. “And get out of the road!”

“Mr… Fenton?” Sam asked shakily. He looked pissed, but not scared or upset… did that mean Danny was okay? He’d be freaking out if his son was missing, right? She looked back at the concrete where Danny’s ghost had been a moment ago. Was she seeing things?

Jack straightened up, his anger melting into a confident smile. He turned back inside, shouting. “HA! Maddie, you hear that? Word’s already getting around about the Fentons! Even this kid we don’t know recognizes me! Jack Fenton! Co-inventor of the Fenton Ghost Portal!”

Sam glanced up at the garish neon sign that spelled out “Fenton.”

“Mr. Fenton, it’s Sam,” she said, unsteadily climbing to her feet, the adrenaline still coursing through her body. She brushed the gravel off of her knees, the fresh blood from her palms and knees smearing across her bare skin. Bad day to wear a skirt.

“Sam? I don’t know a Sam,” Jack mused. “I’d remember someone who dressed as gloomy as you, kid.”

Sam blinked, confused. Until she remembered the last time Jack Fenton had seen her, it was probably in a dress suited for an American Girl doll, not a Morbid Threads corset and heavy New Rock combat boots. It was no surprise he didn’t recognize her.

Screw it, you already look stupid. Now’s your chance. “Um, Mr. Fenton, is Danny home? Uh, I’ve been trying to call him-“

“Aw, jeez, and now there’s a girl, too?” Jack angrily muttered to himself, loudly enough for Sam to hear it multiple yards away. “How many secrets is that boy keeping from us?”

Sam pushed ahead. “I was just wondering-“

“Listen, Sam, he’s busy!”

“But-“

Jack slammed the door closed, leaving a stunned Sam on the street.

She numbly turned to gather her moped when a flash of movement caught her eye. Sam squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, praying her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

But there he was – Danny, safe, waving both arms above his head in his bedroom window.

His breath escaped his mouth in clouds… just how cold were they keeping the house? Danny leaned forward and used his breath to fog up the window. GROUNDED, he wrote out with his finger. Sam chuckled at the multiple backwards letters. She’d get angry at Danny for worrying her if she wasn’t so relieved to see him safe.

She pointed to the ground, at the spot where that ghostly form had been a moment before. How’d you do that? She mouthed.

Danny was too high up to make out his expression clearly, but she could see him shake his head. He breathed more fog onto the window and circled GROUNDED.

Sam face-palmed, frustrated at their inability to communicate. I’ll just have to ask him tomorrow about it. She jogged back to her moped and pulled it upright – she needed to move it before a car came by.

Sam looked back up at Danny, soaking in the sight of him while she could. She knew she’d see him at school tomorrow, but – she knew she’d go right back to worrying about him the second he was out of sight. She reached around herself and gave her backpack a reaffirming squeeze, feeling the books inside. It’s why she had to read up on what was going on.

Sam climbed onto her moped and offered Danny a small wave goodbye. The more I know, the more I can help him. The less we’ll all have to worry.

Chapter Text

"What makes you think Danny has a new power?" Tucker asked, taking a bite out of one of the cookies his mom had made them. He crossed his legs, making himself more comfortable on his bedroom floor. Tucker gestured at the plate, but Sam shook her head at the wordless offer. Sam wished they were vegan – she hadn't brought up her new dietary restrictions with Danny or Tucker yet and was sure Mrs. Foley had made them with butter and eggs.

Sam took the books from the Skulk and Lurk out of her backpack and passed them to Tucker before flopping down onto his bed, laying on her back with her arms casually outstretched. It was only mid-day and she was already so tired. "Are we really gonna call them 'powers?" Sam asked, staring at a crack on Tucker's ceiling.

"I don't know Sam, are we really gonna have the exact same argument twice?"

Sam groaned theatrically, rolling onto her side and propping her head up with her arm so she could make eye-contact with Tucker. "Fine, you win. 'Powers.' Although for the record, there's nothing cool about this."

Tucker rolled his eyes and looked down at the books, beginning to study the back of Goth's Guide to Ghosts. "So what's the new power?"

"I was on my way over and I saw this creepy, human-shaped floating thing in the middle of the road. It was glowing bright green. I thought it was Danny."

"Right, I mean, what else do we know that's human-shaped, green and flying?" Tucker chuckled, shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth and brushing the crumbs onto his pants.

"Exactly! So I followed him, it, whatever, all the way to Danny's house, where it just disappeared."

"But it wasn't Danny?" Tucker opened Goth's Guide to Ghosts and tossed the other two books onto the bed next to Sam.

Sam sat up and grabbed Ectoplasm in Fiction, flipping to the glossary. Maybe there was a section about different ghost abilities that could help. "I don't know… I don't think so. Danny was inside, and he didn't look any different."

Tucker quickly looked up from the book, eyes wide. "You saw Danny? How was he?"

"Only through the window. He's grounded, which explains the unanswered texts. But he looked good, normal. Uh, human. Except it looked like they were freezing him as punishment or something, you could totally see his breath."

Tucker put his hand on his chin in thought. "You know, the same thing was happening in the counselor's office on Friday. Before I left to grab you, he was shivering really hard, but the room was normal temperature. It was kinda freaky. Maybe it's just another weird ghost thing?" He turned back to the Goth's Guide, flipping to the table of contents. "Maybe it says something about it in here?"

Sam thought back. She couldn't remember Danny being excessively cold on Friday, other than the coolness of his actual skin. But a lot had happened that day… Danny shivering would've been one of the least noteworthy things. Sam scanned for the word temperature in the Ectoplasm in Fiction glossary. Nothing. Maybe cold? There were a few entries for that around page 40. She skimmed to that chapter: Chapter 4: On Hauntings.

Sam imagined Danny sleepily walking into his kitchen in the morning, grabbing some cereal. Letting out a "menacing" drowsy groan. Would this Dave Zama guy consider that a haunting? Sam chuckled at the thought, surprising herself.

Tucker looked up, the ghost of a smile on his face. "What? Did you see something?"

Sam scowled and fidgeted, self-conscious. I shouldn't be laughing at what Danny's going through. What's wrong with me? "Nothing. It was stupid."

"Well now you've gotta tell me." Tucker's grin grew.

Sam groaned, relenting. "I just… Isn't it kind of weird thinking about Danny as a ghost? Our Danny."

Tucker held up his book, showcasing a black and white drawing of a grotesque, animal-like blob ghost with thousands of eyes covering its body. "What, you don't get Danny vibes from this?"

Sam couldn't help but smile, trying and failing to maintain her scowl. "Tucker, I'm being serious!"

"I am, too!" Tucker exclaimed with a laugh, quickly flipping to another page and holding it up for Sam to see. This drawing featured a translucent ghost with multiple long necks and heads, each head featureless except for a gaping maw lined with thousands of sharp teeth.

Sam stifled a laugh. "Now that you mention it, that does kind of look like him when he finds out it's salad day at school."

Tucker set the book back in his lap. "And who could blame him? We're growing kids, Sam, we need nourishment!" Tucker exclaimed, theatrically dismayed.

Sam rolled her eyes with a smile. "Choosing to ignore that."

The pair settled into a comfortable silence. Sam felt like it had been years since she simply joked around with someone. Her grandma had sensed something was wrong yesterday and tried to joke around with her to cheer her up – but Sam just brushed her off. She glanced back at Tucker. Why does it feel different with him?

Tucker looked up, smiling. "I don't see anything about ghosts getting cold, but they reference the Fentons in here a couple times. Weird to think they're actually scientists, right?" His grin faltered. "Well… it would've been weird, before the portal started working. Never mind."

Sam nodded solemnly and turned back to her book. It was nice to joke with Tucker because he knew the gravity of what she was going through.

She skimmed the Hauntings section until the word "cold" jumped out.

One telltale sign of a ghostly presence is a "cold spot." This trope is evident in countless forms of ghost-related media, from radio talk shows to modern comic books. This concept, which involves the temperature dropping in areas with a ghostly presence, is derived from ghost hunting. In some stories, the ambient room temperature is stable, however the humans themselves become colder as they enter a room or area with high amounts of paranormal activity.

Although historically, ghost hunters agreed on the existence of cold spots, many modern ghost hunters beg to differ, claiming that "it is rare for humans to detect the nominal change in temperature from the presence of an ectoplasmic being without the additional aid of ghost-detection equipment" (J. Fenton and M. Fenton, 103).

"Tucker, does Danny ever talk about ghost-detection equipment?"

Tucker shrugged, not taking his eyes off of Goth's Guide to Ghosts. "Not that I can remember. But he really doesn't like talking about his parents' weird ghost obsession."

Sam looked back down at the citation, tracing her finger over the names. "I never really got why he was so embarrassed about it. I think the family business makes him unique," she grumbled.

Tucker brought his hand up under his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching his face. "Look, Sam…" He sighed, dropping his hand and looking at her, uncharacteristically serious. "I know you and I don't mind standing out, I mean, clearly." He gestured to the pile of computer parts lying on his desk. "But… Danny's never really been like that."

He hesitated for a moment. "I honestly think if it was up to him, he'd have the most boring life possible. Good grades, normal high school and college experience. I feel like NASA is the most noteworthy goal he's had."

Sam felt her face redden, thankful that she had applied her foundation extra thick today. She disguised her embarrassment behind what she hoped was a gothic scowl. Of course he wanted a normal life. And now he'll never get one.

Sam realized she'd been comparing her parents to Danny's. Sure, his parents could be annoying, but at least they cared about something other than visiting the country club, organizing homeowners' association meetings, and trying to make her conform.

But they've also never made something with the power to kill, dumbass.

Sam's scowl deepened. "I never should've asked him to go in there."

Tucker's mouth twitched as he looked away. Silence hung between the two for a moment. "…I think things'll be okay, Sam," he said, looking back to her hesitantly. "Maybe not for a while. But I think we'll get there. Together. All of us."

Sam blinked, taken aback at Tucker's candid yet sensitive response. He's… he's right. We just need to focus on helping Danny and things will be okay. They have to be.

As always, Tucker came through when it really mattered. Sam's expression softened. She gave a determined nod. "Together," she agreed.

Tucker suddenly plastered one of his typical goofy smiles on his face. He held up his book. "I mean, come on, how many friends do you know that are willing to do homework for each other!?"

Sam played along. "Maybe I would, if Lancer assigned something interesting for once. I mean, how boring was that art history reading?"

Tucker sheepishly turned back to Goth's Guide. "I haven't done it yet. Maybe tonight. We've got bigger things to worry about, right?"

"Tucker, if you want to talk about how you feel-"

Tucker waved his arm, dismissing the idea. "Nah, I'm good."

Sam tried again more firmly, wanting to support Tucker in the same way he did for her. "You don't have to be okay, Tucker. What we saw was-"

"Hey, this book's still got nothing about the shivering or that green thing you saw, but they do mention the Ghost Zone."

Sam's black lips pressed into a tight line. It was obvious that he was trying to avoid even thinking about the accident. But how could she force him to talk about it when she barely wanted to herself? She'd felt like shit nonstop for days – focusing on helping Danny was the only thing that even kind of made her feel better.

She looked at Tucker. He stared intently at the book filled with ghostly knowledge. Isn't that what Tucker's trying to do, too? Just focus on helping Danny?

Sam nodded slightly, making up her mind about pressing the issue. He knows I'm here for him. We can talk about it when he's ready. "Really, they mentioned the Ghost Zone? I've never heard anyone except Danny's parents use that term."

Tucker laughed. "Me neither. I honestly think they made it up themselves. Except when they're quoting the Fentons, my book calls it 'the ghostly dimension.'"

"You have to admit that's not as catchy."

Tucker held the book up, reading from it. "Although rare, you may be able to physically harm the malevolent spirit using haunted or holy objects." Tucker put a spooky flair on the next portion. "But beware, young goth, as ghosts can return to the ghostly dimension whence they originate and remedy themselves."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Lame. Goth's Guide usually does their research – that sounds totally made up."

Tucker leaned forward, passing her the open book. "Does it?"

It could have been a photograph of the Fenton Portal.

The page was filled with a realistic painting, entirely in color. Neon green, swirling energy hovered above an Ouija board. Three teen goths stared up at the energy in wonder. Sam looked back to Tucker. "You know, it really would've saved the Fentons a lot of trouble if they knew they could access the Ghost Zone by just picking up a ten dollar mass-manufactured board game."

Tucker stood up and walked over to the bed, sitting next to Sam. He pointed at a callout box on the other page. "That part's fake, see? They said they don't know how these ghost portals are made, only that they 'appear in nature at random,' and humans have 'tried for centuries' to figure it out. I guess this is them showing if humans succeeded?"

"Wait," Sam said, pointing at the passage Tucker had read aloud earlier. She chewed on a nail in thought. "So ghosts have to return to the Ghost Zone to heal themselves?"

She looked at her friend. "Is Danny going to have to go there to get better?"

Chapter Text

"5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 0… all engines running… liftoff, we have a liftoff! 32 minutes past the hour, liftoff on Apollo 11..."

Danny made no move to turn off his alarm, instead pulling his pillow over his head. It did nothing to dampen the pain of the rocket sounds boring into his skull, igniting a headache that he knew would turn into a migraine later that day.

He'd give anything to just curl up and go back to sleep – but then he'd have to come up with another lie, or (god forbid) tell his parents what was really going on. Not happening.

In a sudden burst of frustration, Danny threw the pillow at the ground as hard as he could. It slammed into the floor with an unsatisfying poof. He cracked open his eyes, the hints of sunrise and obnoxious neon glow pouring into his room from the "FentonWorks" sign outside doing nothing to calm his headache.

Danny roughly rubbed the sleep from his eyes in frustration and finally got out of bed, stomping over to his alarm across the room and slapped the "off" button. I wish I didn't move this stupid thing back over here last night.

Danny trudged to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth – no time for a shower. He'd given himself exactly 15 minutes to get ready, which should be plenty of time if he skipped breakfast, his shower, and moved fast.

But his sleep-deprivation and lack of motivation had him moving at a snail's pace.

Danny finally reached the bathroom, braving a glance at his face. His eyes passed casually over his portal-related injuries, already used to the sight. He'd spent more time than he cared to admit obsessing over his own reflection over the last few days. But he saw what he feared – dark bags that betrayed the horrible night he'd had. No question Jazz or his parents would have questions about those.

I'll have time to worry about that when I'm spacing out in Lancer's, Danny thought, grabbing his tooth brush and looking away from his reflection. It's not like I'll be able to pay any attention today anyways. Danny turned away from the mirror to brush his teeth, his tiredness fogging up any thoughts that may have normally passed through his mind in the morning. He instead stared absentmindedly at Jazz's damp bath towel hanging on the metal bar, contrasting his (unfortunately) dry one. Danny gave his pit a tentative sniff.

Not great.

Danny turned back to the sink to spit his toothpaste out and put his toothbrush away. He took the time to splash some warm water on his face. Maybe this'll bring some life back into my skin.

He paused mid-splash, looking up to stare at himself in the mirror with a squinted, cross expression. Water dripped from his chin. "'Bring some life back,'" he said to himself. "Ha ha."

He so didn't have time for this.

Danny quickly dried his face and glanced back at the mirror – he didn't look any better, but at least the water had woken him up a little bit.

He moved back to his bedroom to get dressed, hunting for one particular – Ah, there it is. His oversized red sweater. He usually wore this in winter, but he wanted to be ready in case that weird chill came over him again. And on the off chance his arms decided to turn invisible without affecting his clothing too, he wanted to be sure they'd be covered up. It was a little weird to wear it when it was so sunny – but it was almost fall, right? Nobody would notice.

"And even if they do, it's better that their attention's on the sweater rather than the glowing-eyed ghost boy," Danny muttered to himself, cringing as he thought about that mortifying scenario and changing out of his pajamas and into his outfit for the day.

Jazz looked up from the book she was reading at the kitchen table, recognizing the unmistakable sound of Danny's footsteps plodding down the stairs. Her mom's steps were usually more measured, while Danny always sounded more shuffling and awkward. Her dad… well, there was no mistaking Jack Fenton coming down the stairs. She kept her eyes on the kitchen entrance until her brother shambled into sight, backpack in hand.

Her heart sank.

Danny looked absolutely terrible. Jazz couldn't remember him ever looking so pale – and the lack of color in his face only made his injuries and eye bags stand out more. The bags under his eyes seemed three times as worse as they did yesterday. And why was he wearing his Christmas sweater when it was 65 degrees outside? If Danny didn't hate Christmas so much, Jazz would think he was wearing it as some kind of comfort object.

Just how traumatized was he by the portal accident if he couldn't sleep? She glanced at his covered arms. Was he hiding something? More injuries? But then wouldn't he just choose a normal long-sleeved shirt?

"Can you stop that?" Danny snapped suddenly, scowling at her.

"What? What am I doing?" Jazz snapped back, returning the hostile energy without thinking. She caught herself quickly. She shouldn't talk to Danny like that – this wasn't some normal sibling squabbling. He was hurting.

Danny's frown deepened. "Stop looking at me like that."

Jazz closed her book and interlaced her fingers, resting her hands on top of the cover. He's got to be upset about how those injuries look. He's embarrassed, what teen boy wouldn't be?

"How'd you sleep?" Jazz asked, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible. Her psychology books explained that a light, unbiased tone was best to avoid accidentally guiding your patient into a certain response. And wasn't Danny kind of her patient, as her little brother? Someone she needed to watch out for and guide?

"Fine. Why do you ask?" Danny said, monotone.

Maybe he did need a little guiding, or she'd never get anywhere. "It doesn't look like you slept fine."

Danny groaned. "Jazz, I really don't have time for this. Can you drive me to school? Please?" He snapped.

"I don't know, Danny, are you going to talk to me?" Jazz asked firmly, tired of dancing around the issue. "Are you going to tell me why you haven't wanted to study all weekend, or why it looks like you haven't slept in three days? Are you going to talk to me about what happened?" She pressed, avoiding mentioning the portal incident by name. Any reference to ecto-technology tended to cause their parents to sprint into the room.

Danny threw up his arms in a clear show of exasperation. "Alright Jazz, I was up all night playing Doomed!" Danny shouted. "I haven't been studying because I'm a loser teenager who doesn't give a shit about anything. Is that what you want to hear!?"

Jazz stood up, placing her hands on the table. Was he really lying to her right now? She knew he wasn't playing that computer game last night – she could always hear him talking to Tucker over the microphone when he did. "No, Danny, that's not what I want to hear! I want you to talk to me because I'm worried about you!"

"Well don't be!" Danny crossed his arms tightly in front of him, looking away from her. "I'm so sick of everyone telling me that they're worried!"

Danny abruptly lifted his backpack up, shoving his arms through each hole. Bag on his back, he turned and stomped towards the front door. "You know what, screw it. I'll walk."

"But Danny!"

The door slammed closed.

"You're late, Danny."

No duh. "Uh, sorry, Mr. Falluca. Missed my bus."

All eyes in the classroom lasered in on him. Danny fiddled with the collar of his sweater, suddenly self-conscious about how thick it was. He should've just worn a normal long-sleeved shirt. Maybe he should have stolen some of Jazz's makeup to cover the scabs on his face too, while he was at it. He should've done a lot differently. Mr. Falluca adjusted his glasses. "Well, just don't make it a habit. Take a seat."

Danny gingerly walked toward his seat, trying to disguise the leg pains that had flared up halfway through the walk to school. Tucker shot him a concerned look as he passed by – Danny offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

After an eternity, he eased into the L-shaped desk in the back of the room next to Sam. With the show over, the other students in the room turned back to the board. Danny felt Sam's eyes on him as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a notebook and pencil. He fixed his gaze up front, praying Falluca would just continue the lesson. The stress of this was so not helping his headache.

Mercifully, Mr. Falluca picked up a piece of chalk and began to write another equation on the board. "A-as I was saying folks, solving radical equations is actually quite simple, once you know the trick. As an example, let's start with the square root of x squared over on the left side, here…"

Danny stifled a yawn and rested his head in his hand, using the other to try to take notes. You know you're sleep deprived when Mr. Falluca's nasally voice of all things is lulling you to sleep.

A pale hand with chipped black nail polish slid into view and soundlessly dropped a folded piece of paper on his desk. Danny glanced over at Sam, who was already back to pretending to focus on the lesson.

He dropped his pencil and opened up the note in his lap, out of Falluca's view.

"What happened with your parents?" Danny smiled. Sam had dotted her eyes with little Xs. That was new.

"Jazz covered for me. She knows about the accident but not any of the ghost stuff. Parents don't know we started the portal. They just think I trashed the lab, grounded me for the weekend. Get my phone back after school today."

Danny re-folded the note. Sam smoothly opened her palm under her desk, keeping her eyes on the board. When Falluca turned his back again, Danny quickly passed it into her hand, the swift movement agitating his headache. He winced.

Wait, where are we at in the lesson? Danny looked down at his notes and back up at the board. Damn it, Falluca was almost done with the equation.

The folded piece of paper fluttered onto his desk. Screw it, I'll just take notes on the next problem, he thought, unfolding Sam's message.

"Did they ask how you got hurt?"

Danny winced. He was hoping Sam and Tucker wouldn't ask that, he regretted his lame lie to his parents the second it left his mouth. Luckily, Jack and Maddie Fenton weren't really known for their insight.

"Told them I got beat up by a guy at school. They bought it."

Jack had pulled Danny aside after that "admission" and tried to teach him some self-defense moves in one of his classic awkward father-son chats. Little did he know that was just about the last thing Danny would ever need to know.

Danny had basically made a career out of flying under the radar. He was unpopular, but not a geek, and did his best to stay out of the way of anyone with a reputation for bullying. So far, so good. He hadn't gotten picked on since elementary school, before he learned that blathering about space travel and ghosts to anyone who would listen was not the best way to make friends… despite what he'd learned from his parents. Nowadays, he doubted most people in this class even knew his name. Just how he liked it.

Danny re-folded the note and leaned over to toss it onto Sam's desk. The note landed and –

No!

He slammed into the ground, torso tingling with the too-familiar feeling of intangibility. His body solidified as quickly as it had phased through his desk.

Danny held his breath, praying that nobody saw what actually happened. Laughter erupted. He let his breath out in bittersweet relief – nobody would be laughing if they saw him pass through solid wood, but…

So much for flying under the radar.

Chapter Text

Danny chewed on the end of his pencil. Okay, lemon juice is pretty acidic. Maybe that's an 8 on the pH scale. Right? Bases seem less intense, and milk is pretty mild, so that's probably a zero. Baking soda… goddamn it, what does baking soda do!?

"Alright class, I'll be coming around to collect the homework now. I hope you all had fun with your litmus paper home experiments."

I bet I could remember if my head didn't hurt so damn much. Regular soda seems acidic, right? So baking soda's probably a… 6. Screw it. 6.

Danny waited until Mr. Lancer turned away before he frantically circled the last answers on his chemistry worksheet – the one he should've completed with Jazz's help on Friday. God, he was so sick of this. This was just like middle school, always scrambling, turning things in at the last second, disappointing his parents. But how was he supposed to think about chemistry homework when it felt like there was a messed up science experiment happening inside his own body?

Mr. Lancer shot Danny a subtle smile as he passed by the long lab table he sat at. Danny looked away and sheepishly handed the teacher his homework. Lancer sure won't be smiling when he grades that later…

Tucker elbowed his friend softly once Lancer had passed by. "Dude, I would've let you copy mine," he whispered.

Danny shrugged. He'd already screwed over his friends enough this week, he didn't want anyone to get busted for helping him cheat, too.

"Alright, class, talk amongst yourselves while I set up today's experiment," Lancer said with an air of authority, walking back to the desk at the front of the room. "We'll be swapping lab partners today, as well."

Immediately, the room was buzzing with conversation.

Tucker threw up his hands and turned to Danny, frustrated. "Aw, man. He's really gonna make us switch lab partners? What's more fair than alphabetical by last name? That's a classic seating arrangement! Why mess with the classics?"

Danny grinned at his friend. "You end up with people like us who've been friends for like, ever?"

"That's called fate, my friend," Tucker quipped, giving his friend a rough pat.

Danny winced, a deep pain flaring in his shoulder muscles at the sudden slap. Tucker withdrew his hand with a jerk. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Danny. That was stupid."

Danny grimaced and brought his hand to his shoulder, trying to massage some of the spasms out of it. "It's fine," Danny said, brushing it off. "Nowhere near as bad as Friday."

Tucker flinched. "So it's… it's getting better? Your face doesn't look as bad."

"Gee, thanks, Tuck." Danny gave a humorless chuckle. "It's getting healing pretty quickly, all things considered. I mean, I walked to school today," Danny grunted, leaning into the shoulder he rubbed. "Had to take a few breaks, but I'll count it as a win."

Tucker took a quick glance around then leaned in and lowered his voice. "Have you gone anywhere special recently?"

Danny squinted at his friend. Unsatisfied with his makeshift shoulder massage, Danny dropped his arms into his lap. "Uh… Tuck, should I have any idea what you're talking about right now?"

Lancer tapped a ruler on the board, signaling for everyone to quiet down. "Okay, class, let's pair up. After you receive your partners, please come gather the needed materials for today's lesson in displacement reactions. We have limited quantities, so you'll only be permitted one shot at your experiments." The teacher held up a piece of paper and began to read from it. "Paulina, you'll be with Mia. Mikey…"

Tucker pursed his lips pensively and sat up straight, turning back to Lancer. The pair listened to their teacher rattle off names from his list for a few moments. "If you haven't been to…" Tucker whispered, trailing off in clear confusion. "Huh. I'll tell you more about it later."

"Tucker Foley, is there something you'd like to share with the class?" Lancer stared at the two friends with an exhausted glare.

"No, Mr. Lancer. Sorry," Tucker said quickly.

Lancer turned back to his list with a sigh. "Tucker, Brittany will be your partner for this experiment. Danny, you'll be with Dash. Everyone please come gather your materials and sit next to your new partners."

Screeches filled the air as everyone pushed their stools back to stand up. Danny stood up as well and scanned the room for Dash – he recognized the quarterback from the football game he'd attended with Tucker a few weeks ago. The Ravens had lost brutally, and from the audience's reaction it didn't seem like their loss was out of the ordinary. Dash idled by the beakers and chemicals up by the front of the room.

I doubt this guy even knows who I am, Danny thought, waving at the jock from across the room. His shoulder throbbed at the thoughtlessly quick movement. Dash offered a terse nod.

Tucker nudged Danny. "I'm gonna go sit by Brittany, come grab me if you need me. For anything, alright?" Tucker locked eyes with his friend, wordlessly indicating the gravity of his offer – Danny knew he meant help with anything ghostly. Danny nodded, slowly so he didn't aggravate his headache. Satisfied, Tucker headed off to find his new lab partner.

Danny sighed, exhausted. There had already been too many close calls that day that required his friends' help. After his mortifying tumble in math class, he'd needed Tucker to hide him when turned invisible during lunch, and Sam had to step in during gym class and make up an excuse for why he couldn't run the PACER test. He needed to get better at lying. Danny knew he absolutely sucked at thinking on his feet, and it was only a matter of time before someone caught him in one of his poorly constructed made-up stories. Sam and Tucker could back him up, but what if they weren't there to help? What if his mom talked to the school about his non-existent "bully problem?" What if Ms. Tetslaff found out his grandma had been dead for years, and that wasn't why he really needed to sit out in gym class? What if someone asked –

"Dude, what happened to your face?"

Dash set the experiment materials down at their lab station with a clatter.

Shit. "Oh, uh, this?" Danny asked, dumbly pointing at his face. "I was just uh, practicing… for the football team?"

Dash raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Seriously? That's awesome." Dash laughed. "You should probably hit the showers afterwards though. You reek, dude."

Danny felt his face heat up, regretting his skipped shower this morning.

Dash laughed again, louder this time. "No biggie, dude. I remember when I first started practicing with my brothers. I was sore for weeks from how much they wailed on me! You ever played before?"

"Uh, not really."

Danny kicked himself internally. Let's lie about the one thing Dash knows a ton about! Great idea! You really couldn't think of a better excuse, Fenton?

"Why start now, then?" Dash asked as he started to set up their experiment.

Danny grabbed one of the assignment sheets Dash had carried over, pretending to read over the requirements to buy a little time to think. Good question loser, who the hell picks up a sport AFTER the season begins? "Uh, I… saw you at the football game a few weeks ago? And I thought, 'man, I'd love to be cool like him!'"

Danny cringed, embarrassed at his mediocre lie. He leaned over the table and helped Dash set up their project, avoiding eye contact. He steeled himself for Dash's response. The Ravens had lost the last few games, terribly, only a conceited idiot would believe –

"Well, I can't blame you! I am pretty cool out there. What'd you say your name was again, kid?"

"Kid?" Aren't we the same age? "Uh, it's Danny. Fenton."

Dash smiled. Their experiment set up, he began to measure and pour the first of the chemicals into various test tubes. "Fenton? Like Jazz Fenton? She's pretty cute, that's your sister?"

"Gross, dude. Yeah, that's her." To avoid dwelling on the topic, Danny pointedly looked down at the next section on their assignment sheet and skimmed past all the bullshit warnings and setup instructions – they'd need to combine something called sodium hydroxide with sulfuric acid. Both were 6M, whatever that meant.

"You think you could set me up with her?"

Danny laughed in disbelief. Sometimes he wondered what life would be like if he could just drift through it popular and dumb like the jocks seemed to. "Honestly, man, if you could pull her nose out of her textbooks it'd be a miracle." Danny measured 5 mL of the sodium hydroxide solution and handed it to Dash. "She tutors though, if you're that desperate."

Dash shrugged, smiling. "My mom's already been on my case to get a tutor, Fenton, why not get a date out of it, too?"

Danny picked up the sulfuric acid solution and carefully poured another 5 mL into a clean test tube. "Nothing more romantic than paying a girl for her time," Danny said, deadpan.

"I know, right?" Dash replied, no hint of irony.

Danny blinked, dumbfounded with Dash's lack of self-awareness. There was something oddly hilarious about it. To Danny's surprise, he was actually having fun talking to Dash, despite how different they were. It helping that it was the first time in days he'd talked to someone who wasn't fussing over him. Danny reached to hand Dash the sulfuric acid solution – when his arms tingled in a horribly familiar way.

Not now!

Too late. The test tube tumbled from Danny's fingers, spilling the contents onto Dash's outstretched hand and shattering on the ground.

Once again, all eyes were on Danny. For a moment, the room was dead quiet.

Dash launched out of his seat, stumbling backward and gripping his hand. "What is WRONG with you? Shit! That hurts!" Dash hissed, his eyes growing wide, frantic. "How am I supposed to play this weekend with a messed up hand!? Do you have ANY idea what you've done? You… FREAK!"

Lancer rushed over, putting a gentle arm on Dash, ushering him towards the door. "Dash, let's go. We'll need to get you to the eye wash station before that does any real damage."

Dash spluttered. "But he-"

"Mr. Fenton and I will be having a conversation later," Lancer said brusquely, cutting him off. "Let's go, we can't let that sit on your skin."

Dash hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. The teacher gave his student another nudge towards the door, and they swiftly left the science lab together. Before Dash walked out the door, he turned back to Danny.

"You're DEAD, Fenton," he spat.

Danny's heart sank. What the hell had he just done? He'd been so worried about hurting himself, he hadn't even considered how these stupid ghost symptoms could hurt other people. He was just starting to make a friend – someone popular, no less – and now that ship had not only sailed, but was loading up the cannons in retaliation. His head pounded. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why did this have to happen to him? Things were just starting to look better in high school and now they'd never looked worse.

Tucker appeared at his side. "Hey dude, look on the bright side." He put a hand on Danny's shoulder. "Now when you tell your mom you're getting bullied, you won't be lying."

Chapter Text

"Are you sure he feels up to hanging out today?" Sam asked, putting her unneeded textbooks back in her locker. She'd already finished her homework well in advance – proving she finished her assignments early was the most effective way to keep her parents off her back, giving her more time to study ghosts in private. Luckily, they just thought it was a new weird goth obsession.

Tucker shrugged, unsure. "Honestly, I expect him to bail last minute. You know how shitty he's felt this last week."

She did.

For the last week, they'd tried and failed to convince Danny to spend time with them after school so they could share some of their new ghost knowledge and get to the bottom of things. Sam and Tucker still had no idea how he'd made that humanoid shape last Sunday, or gotten any closer to figuring out that foggy breath. It's not like they could exactly talk about it at school. But every time they tried to make after-school plans, Danny would come up with a different lie or excuse – something he was getting a little too good at doing recently.

Sam sighed and closed her locker, pulling her backpack onto her shoulders. "It'll be nice to finally tell him about everything we've learned. Maybe he's learned stuff, too."

"I hope so. We've been reading for like, a whole week and I still feel like we barely know anything."

"Has he talked to you at all about how he's feeling? About going into the Ghost Zone at all?"

If she didn't know Danny better, she might fall for his excuses of chores after school or having too much homework. But he always goofed off during chores, and he liked to finish homework early in the day. But whatever he was doing, he never responded to her messages until the middle of the night. He routinely showed up to school looking so exhausted it was getting hard to remember what he looked like before the accident.

"Nothing about the Zone. As for how he's feeling… a little. Just updates on how he's healing. He mentioned yesterday that he's been having trouble sleeping – but that's kinda obvious."

"I meant how he's feeling. Emotionally."

Tucker adjusted his beret and broke eye contact. "Guys don't, uh, really talk about that kind of stuff, Sam." He looked back to her. "Hey, if you bring it up today though, I'll do my best to back you up. I'm worried about him, too." Tucker frowned. "He needs to talk about it."

Sam nodded in agreement. The trio hadn't discussed their thoughts on the accident since the day of. "Thanks, Tuck. Frankly, we should all talk about it."

"That's ironic, coming from the goth." Tucker chuckled and motioned for her to follow him down the hallway. She obliged, and they walked beside each other towards Danny's locker. "Not very dark and brooding to talk about your feelings, if you ask me."

"Shows how much you know about goths," Sam scoffed. "Remind me to drag you to the next poetry reading."

"How come you're acting like the goth expert? You've only been goth for like, a month!"

Sam punched his arm, resulting in a theatrical whine from Tucker. Despite herself, Sam grinned. It was nice, how close she'd gotten with Tucker over the last week. Sure, they still bickered, but besides their rare serious disagreements about Danny, it felt more like a performance or game than anything malicious. They both knew the other didn't mean it. Plus, Sam couldn't deny that it was nice to pretend their biggest issue was squabbling about where to eat dinner or which books on ghosts to buy rather than… what happened last Friday.

"Hey guys," Danny said with a yawn as they approached. The bags under his eyes hadn't gotten any better. "Ready to return to the scene of the crime?"

Sam tried not to wince at Danny's casual reference to the accident. Judging from the frown that flickered on Danny's lips, she wasn't successful.

Tucker threw an arm around Danny, breaking the brief tension. "Are you kidding? I've been dying to hang out with you all week, dude."

"A pun, huh? Good one," Danny said with a weak laugh. Sam wasn't sure if he sounded so tired due to the insensitive joke or his clear exhaustion.

Sam studied Danny's face as the trio made their way out of the school. He still looked like a wreck – but his injuries had faded so much, someone may not notice them at all if they didn't know what to look for. Only faded marks remained, light etchings that she guessed didn't even hurt. At the rate he was healing, she suspected that Danny would look completely normal by Monday, aside from his slightly crooked nose. The bridge was more prominent now in a way that it never used to be.

She and Tucker knew that ghosts could only heal by going into the Ghost Zone. Sam highly suspected he was sneaking off into the Ghost Zone at night, getting to know his fellow ghosts and healing his injuries – at the sacrifice of sleep.

Sam took a deep breath and decided to press the issue. "How have you been sleeping, Danny?"

Danny let out a laugh that sounded equally as exhausted as the last. "You're joking, right? Look at me."

"Standard question."

"Fair enough." Danny glanced behind them – with no students within earshot, he continued. "Honestly, the powers have been keeping me up. It feels like the second I pass out my body decides to go into overdrive. Plus, it's hard to get a good rest when you're paranoid about floating into your parents' room while you're passed out."

Tucker and Sam shared a look. They'd both done their research on ghosts. They'd come to the shared conclusion that he had to be healing in the Ghost Zone, and going at night made the most sense. Why was he trying to hide this?

Danny waved a hand between the two, breaking their eye-contact. "Uh, guys, still right here."

"Sorry," Tucker said, looking at his best friend. "We're just worried about you, dude, you know?" Tucker shot Sam another glance. Wordlessly, she knew it was a silent agreement to bring it up again later.

"Well, don't be," Danny grumbled. His body vanished with a sudden flicker. Sam jumped, stopping in her tracks. She wondered briefly how long it would take for her to get used to Danny's new abilities. Tucker stopped beside her, eyes flicking over the area Danny should be standing.

She heard Danny sigh. "Ugh, goddamn it. Just a second."

With a deep, shaky breath, Danny faded back into sight, eyes closed in concentration. He opened them, taking a look down at his visible hands. He smiled, the first time he had that afternoon. "I mean, sleep would be nice, night is also the only time I have to practice my ghost powers." Danny continued walking. His friends fell into place beside him.

Tucker pumped his fist in the air. "Alright! I knew the phrase 'ghost powers' would catch on!"

Sam rolled her eyes, not dignifying Tucker's intrusive quip with a response. She turned back to Danny. "You've been practicing?"

"You think I could've turned visible just like that without practice? I'll show you guys when we get to my room."

Thank god, Sam thought. So much of Sam's anxiety over the last week was connected to how completely in the dark she was. Danny had barely talked to them about anything of substance over the last week. She couldn't wait to finally have answers to how Danny was coping.

Danny's grin turned mischievous. "I bet I'm learning even faster than Queen Wolf."

Tucker huffed. "It's Empress She-Wolf, and frankly, I think you're pretending you don't know to just piss me off."

Danny's grin grew. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm not a geek."

"Wh-!" Tucker spluttered. "If it wasn't for Empress She-Wolf, you'd still be floating around my attic!"

Danny gave Tucker a playful punch, one he returned in earnest before they continued their banter. Sam kept her eyes on Danny's expression – no wince. No regular human could heal this quickly in a week. He could barely stand a week ago, now he was taking punches from Tucker like nothing had happened.

FentonWorks came into sight. Finally, they could talk about all of this.

Danny fished his keychain out of his pocket, fumbling through the keys until he picked out the one for the front door. He sighed as they walked up the front steps. An exhausted sigh, one Sam knew she'd made countless times over the last seven days. At this point, she was no stranger to sleep deprivation. It was better to stay up and study ghosts rather than waste time sleeping. She needed to be useful. To help Danny. And with her makeup, nobody could see the bags under her eyes.

I like being up late anyways, she thought, stifling a yawn. I'm a creature of the night.

"Um, Danny?" Tucker asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are we gonna go in?"

Sam blinked. Danny was standing at the door, shoulders stiffened. He hadn't moved for the last several seconds. She opened her mouth to ask if he was alright when he replied.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, guys." Danny put the key in the lock and twisted.

"Danny? You're home!" Jazz's voice echoed from the kitchen. She quickly appeared in the living room, a yogurt container in hand. Her eyes widened as she glanced from Tucker to Sam, a smile breaking out on her face. "And you brought friends! That's great. I'm really glad you took my advice, Danny."

Danny rolled his eyes. "I didn't do anything, Jazz. They asked to come over. They're over. It's not a big deal."

Her grin faltered for a second. "Well, regardless, I'm glad they're here." She took a bite of her snack, breaking eye contact. "It's good to see you both."

Sam offered her an awkward wave and smile, thankful Jazz wasn't mentioning the last time they talked or her "fight" with Danny last Friday. Tucker nodded.

Thunderous bangs came from the kitchen. Sam felt Danny stiffen next to her.

Sam jumped as a blur of orange crashed into the living room. She'd forgotten how overwhelming Mr. Fenton's presence was up close. He had to be over 6 feet tall. At her father's sudden appearance, Jazz quickly made her way toward the stairs, headed for her bedroom and away from the chaotic energy Jack brought with him.

"Danny!" Jack shouted, too loudly for the small room. "You brought your friends over to see the Fenton portal! Good for you son, showing an interest in the family business."

"Uh, actually, Dad-"

"Right, right. This one's your girlfriend, right?" Jack cackled.

Sam felt her face heat up.

"D-dad! This is Sam, my friend, I told you that," Danny stammered. "You saw her this weekend? She's been over here like a million times!"

Jack waved the notion away with a hand. "Well, she's never seen a working ghost portal, has she? Come on, kids!" Jack motioned for them to follow him.

"Dad, we have homework."

"On a Friday? Nonsense! Besides, this is real science, much more exciting than whatever worksheets they have you kids doing."

Danny slapped a palm to his face. "Sorry, guys," he muttered. "This'll just be easier if we go along with it."

Sam nodded. Tucker gave Danny's shoulder a quick rub of silent support. Sam knew she wasn't ready to see the portal again, to hear the Fentons blather on about how evil ghosts were – but Danny had to live with it.

She could deal for the next 30 minutes.

Danny looked at the portal. He felt sick, like echoes of that awful energy were ripping through him all over again. No. The lockers. He could look at the lockers, the ones that kept all his parents' jumpsuits. The ones they'd wear when they finally figured him out so they wouldn't get blood on the-

No.

The crack on the wall. The one in the concrete that his mom constantly complained about, the one his dad always promised to fill in but never did. His dad. His dad was going on and on about something, probably whatever invention was in his hands, but the words simply washed over him, unheard.

Danny tried to listen, he knew he should. His friends nodded politely, asking his dad questions that sounded muffled. He should be more like them. Was the crack on the wall getting smaller? It looked so far away. Like he was watching the scene through a TV screen rather than his eyes. Like… what was that kid's name? The one that hated candy. It was like when he got shrunk down and trapped inside the television in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory…

Jack suddenly shoved the small Fenton device he was holding into Danny's hands. "You see there, son?"

Danny looked down at the machine, trying to piece together whatever his Dad had just explained. His thoughts felt cloudy, far away. His senses were muffled. How long had they all been standing there? What was he thinking about, again?

Sam and Tucker crowded in to look at the device. It looked like most of his parents' inventions – shiny aluminum with red and green accents. This one had a small circular screen on the front and multiple antennae sticking out of the top, with a small indicator bulb in the upper-right corner of the device.

Thinking on his feet was out of the question, and the device's appearance offered no hints about what this thing was supposed to do. "Uh, yeah. Cool, Dad," Danny offered weakly.

"Very cool, Danny," Jack corrected jovially.

"Do you mind if I look, Mr. Fenton?" Sam asked.

Jack beamed. "Of course, Sam. Go ahead."

Danny let Sam take the device from his hands, thankful the focus was on someone else… and that he didn't have to worry about going intangible with this thing in his hands.

Jack crossed his arms confidently. "Just wait 'til it's finished. This baby will even be able to track down the weak ones! It'll have a voice to guide you and everything!" Jack snapped his fingers, remembering something. "You know, if you three like that, you'll love the Ghost Gabber prototype."

Jack turned his back to the kids and excitedly rushed over to a cabinet against the wall. He opened it and began to rummage around. "I know it was in here somewhere…"

The hairs on the back of Danny's neck stood up, pulling him out of his thoughts. Everything snapped into focus.

The light above the portal flashed on.

The doors slid open, bathing the lab in that nauseating green.

Danny's heart leapt to his throat. His breath escaped his mouth in a cloud as the temperature in the room dropped. Danny hugged himself, trying to hold on to whatever body heat he had left.

Sam elbowed him. "Danny," she hissed, tilting the device toward him with shaking hands. A red dot blinked on the screen.

Motion out of the corner of his eye. Danny's head snapped back towards the portal in time to see a green form escape through the ceiling. His breath disappeared the second it was gone. Danny dropped his arms back down by his sides, dumbstruck.

He looked at his two friends. Their eyes were glued to the spot the form had escaped, looking as shocked as he felt.

Danny pointed dumbly at the ceiling. "Was that…"

San and Tucker nodded in unison.

Jack turned back around, oblivious. He faced the trio with a handful of random circuitry. "Well, maybe it's not as complete as I'd like, but it's still interesting!"

Chapter Text

Finally free from Jack's lecture, Danny ushered his friends into his room as quickly as he could, shutting the door behind them.

They stood in stunned silence. A million thoughts raced through Danny's head, blurring together like static, overwhelming him. The lack of sleep wasn't helping.

Tucker cleared his throat, cutting through their collective stupor. "So… now there are two ghosts on the loose in Amity Park?"

Sam grimaced. "You can probably make that three – guess that ghost I saw on Sunday wasn't Danny. That looked almost identical to what I chased down."

Danny groaned. "You saw another one of those things last weekend? Don't we have enough to worry about?" He tossed his backpack onto the ground and made his way over to his unmade bed. He flopped face-down onto the comforter. He groaned a second time with more force, the blankets muffling the sound. "Kill me. Again."

He felt the mattress cave in on either side of him as his friends silently sat down. Danny rolled onto his back so he could look at them. The springs squeaked in protest. His hair flopped into his eyes, obscuring his vision.

Sam and Tucker looked at each other, a wordless conversation told through expressions. He didn't need them to speak, they were coming through loud and clear.

"Danny, how can we help?" Sam asked. Danny saw the pity in her eyes. Guilt tugged at his heart. He was so tired of his friends worrying about him all the time.

So tired in general.

Danny sat up. "Don't worry. I'll figure it out," he mumbled. "Honestly, it's nice just to have someone to complain about it to."

Tucker looked between him and Sam with a slight grin. "Hey, at least one good thing that came out of that."

"We got to sit through another exciting Jack Fenton lecture?" Danny deadpanned.

Tucker shook his head. "We finally know what that cold power is all about."

Sam's eyes widened. "We do?"

Danny put his head in his hands, mortified. "Aw jeez, you guys know about that? Is it really that obvious?"

Sam put a hand on his back. "It's not, don't worry. I only noticed it when you were fogging up the glass with it last weekend."

Tucker laughed. "Besides, if someone notices, you can just tell them you're smoking. Maybe it'll earn you some points with the popular kids."

Danny leaned into Tucker, giving him a soft shove. Despite himself, he let out a laugh at Tucker's idiotic joke. "For the record, it's the most annoying power out of all of them. It doesn't even do anything except make me look stupid."

Tucker grinned, mischievous. "Oh, that's the only one that makes you look dumb?"

Danny shoved harder this time, laughing at the unexpected audacity of his friend. Tucker theatrically tumbled off the bed in response, complete with fake groans and dying sounds. Sam crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, a smile on her green-painted lips betraying her enjoyment.

"Long live the king," Danny deadpanned.

"If only there was a cute girl around to give me mouth-to-mouth," Tucker said with a dramatic sigh. "Preferably a cheerleader of some kind…"

Sam scowled. "You're gonna really need CPR if you don't spill what you've figured out."

Tucker sat up. "Yes ma'am," he said, sobering. "Danny, do you still have your old comic books?"

Danny's brow furrowed. "Uh, yeah, I think so. In the closet, top shelf. Why do you need them?"

Tucker stood up and walked over to the closet, opening the door. He jumped, snagging a few comics from the dusty pile on the top shelf. The hangars on the rack clicked together. "Because you liked Spiderman."

Tucker flipped quickly through one of the issues. A frown twitched on his lips. He opened the second issue he grabbed, flipping through slightly slower this time. His eyes lit up. Tucker brought over the issue, setting it between Danny and Sam.

Tucker jabbed a finger at one of the panels. Wavy lines emanated around Peter's head.

Danny wrinkled his nose. "I don't know, Tucker." He resisted the urge to tease his friend further. After all, Tucker had been right to reference comics once before.

Sam pulled the comic toward her, looking closer. "What? I don't get it. I didn't see that movie."

Tucker tossed the other comics onto the bed and crossed his arms confidently. "Spider-sense, Sam. Spiderman's powers let him know when danger is coming. And when did Danny start to shiver?"

Sam looked up from the comic book, brows raised in understanding. "Right when that ghost showed up."

Danny hummed, unconvinced. "Tucker, that cold thing's been going off completely at random for the last week, just like every other stupid power."

"But I bet it's going off the most when you're at home, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…" Danny groaned. Maybe he'd be able to make a better argument with more than a few hours of sleep. "Tucker, my parents have given me infinity and one lectures on ghosts. Invisibility, flight, all that makes sense. They've never said anything about the existence of a… a ghost sense."

Tucker let out a sarcastic laugh. "And they know this from the whopping zero ghosts they've seen since they started studying them in college?"

Danny blinked, baffled. "How do you know that?"

Tucker tilted his head. "What do you think Sam and I have been doing this last week? Math homework?"

"You're telling me you guys have been studying ghosts?"

Sam rolled her eyes with a smile. "Someone has to, dummy. And you're a bit pre-occupied with the whole 'actually being a ghost' thing."

Danny looked between his two friends. Time and time again, they shocked him with how much they cared. Tucker was his best friend, sure, but they usually just goofed off together. He'd never seen Tucker so consistently serious about anything besides tech before. And Sam – they used to only hang out after class once every few months. Now she was dedicating her free time to studying ghosts for his benefit?

The warmth from his friends cut through the thick exhaustion that had plagued him for the last week. He still wished they didn't have to worry about him so much, but… with them around, maybe he didn't have to be so hopeless.

Danny shook his head with a shaky smile. He felt tears pooling at his eyes. "Why?" He choked out.

Tucker paused, taking in the question for a moment before plopping back down on the bed next to Danny. "We're your best friends, man," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Sam nudged him. "You really think we'd let you go through this alone?"

Her words opened the floodgate, a flurry of bottled emotions he hadn't even known he was keeping locked up. With a choked sob, the tears that had pooled began to stream down his face.

He did think he had to go through this alone. He should. He'd done nothing but shove them away for the last week, not wanting to burden them further with his issues.

After all, it was his fault they were messing with the ghost portal. It was his fault his friends had to see him die. Danny didn't want them to help, he didn't expect them to help. They didn't need to be reminded of what happened.

Yet here they were anyways.

Danny, unsure of what to say, quickly wrapped an arm around each of his friends, squeezing them close in a side hug. Simultaneously, they each wrapped an arm around Danny, too, letting him weep until the tears dried up.

The trio sat in silence for a moment, side by side on the bed, taking in the weight of their exchange.

Tucker was the first to lean away from the hug. "We're always gonna be here for you Danny. You hear me?"

Danny nodded, wiping the last of the moisture from his face. He made a silent pledge to himself to stop pushing his friends away so much. Why didn't he see it before? Everything that had happened – it was their problem just as much as his.

"Yeah," he said with a sniff. "I hear you."

Tucker pushed up his glasses. "Besides, you think I'd miss out on my opportunity to be the cool techie sidekick to a kid with superpowers?"

Danny smiled, welcoming the small sense of normalcy that came from Tucker's joke.

Sam gave Danny a quick squeeze and unwove herself from their side hug. She leaned forward to rest her forearms on her knees. "What are you gonna do, hack into the ghost?"

"You never know, Sam!" Tucker huffed. "Besides, we know one piece of tech helped prove my ghost sense theory."

Sam raised her eyebrows, taking a cue. She bent down, picking something up off the floor and sliding it into Danny's hands. The machine his dad was showing off earlier.

"Sam!" Danny shot her a look, one that he was sure didn't have any effect when paired with his still-puffy eyes. "If my dad finds out you took this out of the lab I'll never hear the end of it!"

Sam held up her hands, gesturing to calm down. "Jeez, I'll put it back before I leave." Sam pointed to the display. "Focus. Tucker's right. The screen lit up right when that ghost showed up."

"So this is like, a ghost detector?"

Sam tilted her head. "Uh, weren't you listening? At all?"

Danny offered an exhausted, sheepish grin.

Tucker groaned, though there was no animosity behind it. "Yes, it tracks ghosts."

Sam took the ghost detector from his lap and reached back into her backpack, fishing around for something. "That book talks about this ghost sense, too. 'Cold spots,' they called it."

Danny looked to Tucker, who nodded, excitement growing. "That makes sense! There's a quote from your parents in there arguing against it – so of course you'd never hear about that ability from them."

Sam set a heavy book onto his lap, a monster of a textbook that took two hands to hold. She flipped to a chapter quickly – so familiar with the book she didn't even need to glance at the table of contents. Finding the particular section she was after, she pointed. "You see?"

Danny skimmed the paragraph. Feeling cold in the presence of ghosts? He had seen that in movies before, now that he thought about it.

Danny was surprised to find that he believed their explanation. A sense of relief washed over Danny. A ghost sense. One more mystery solved. It meant all those times he'd been paralyzed by the cold the last week wasn't just his body betraying him, it actually had a point.

But… wait, that also meant…

Danny tried to look at his friends, his vision blurring as he started to panic. "Y-you guys, I've sensed a ghost dozens of times the last week."

Sam and Tucker shared a look.

"You guys!" Danny snapped, frustrated with the lackluster response. He chewed on a nail. How could they not care that dozens, maybe hundreds of ghosts were loose in their town? What if they killed someone? If there was one thing his parents had taught him, one thing they'd drilled into his head his entire life, it was that ghosts were monsters. They lacked a conscience. They killed for fun. How long until someone they loved wound up dead?

Sam turned to him first. "Danny, can't you just talk with them? I mean, haven't you already?"

Danny's eyes bulged. "TALK with them? Are you nuts? That was the first ghost I've seen in my life. I don't even know if ghosts can talk."

Tucker did a double take. "You don't see any in the Ghost Zone?"

Danny's confusion morphed into irritation. Despite himself, his world tinted green, a telltale sign that his eyes were glowing. They really think I'd jump head-first into the same thing that fried me just a week ago?

He winced at his own harsh thoughts. His anger instantly redirected from his friends to himself. Danny was so sick of his volatile emotions. His friends were just trying to help, he knew. How long would it be until he could talk about the portal like it was no big deal?

Like it didn't kill me.

Tucker shifted uncomfortably under the green glow. "I'm sorry, Danny," he said quickly. "That wasn't…" He paused, trying to find the right words. "I should've brought this up differently."

Danny took a deep breath, trying to slow his heartrate. He failed to calm down entirely, but managed to encourage his vision to fade back to normal. "It's okay," he muttered, the heavy weight of exhaustion settling back onto his shoulders. "Brought what up?"

Tucker nodded at the permission to continue. "Sam and I have done a ton of reading on this. Everyone, your parents included, says ghosts can only heal from injuries if they go into the Ghost Zone. We just took it as fact."

"Well, they got it wrong, then. I mean, look at me." He gave his cheek a light smack for emphasis.

Sam looked him up and down. "So you healed this quickly all on your own?"

"Yeah," Danny said. "Look, if the Ghost Zone really does re-energize ghosts, do you really think I'd look so worn down?"

Sam opened her mouth as if to reply, then hesitated. She frowned. "Well… damn." The simple phrase spoke volumes about her disappointment. Sam looked down and started to pick at her nail polish. "I was really hoping those books would be more help."

Tucker's brow furrowed. "I don't know, Sam. I mean… don't you think it's possible that Danny's a special kind of ghost?"

A chip of black nail polish twirled to the ground. "I don't know. Maybe."

Danny felt the heaviness of the awkward mood he'd created. Damn it. He really needed to sleep, he was losing his grip.

"Hey, that's good news though, right?" Danny offered. He shoved his feelings aside, plastering a grin on his face. He hoped it reached his eyes. "I mean, it means I got to spend that time practicing instead of hanging out in the portal healing."

Danny stood up, moving to the center of his room. He'd practiced this a hundred times over the last week. He closed his eyes, focusing on the subtle energy coursing throughout him, quickly herding it towards the center of his body. The now-familiar cold burst of light sprung from his waist. He squeezed his hands into tight fists, focusing on the bite of his nails as they pressed into his palms. He found it was a good distraction for the waves of nausea that always accompanied the transformation. It didn't die down no matter how many times he did it – seemed like the queasiness was here to stay.

He opened his eyes to find his friends staring at him, wide-eyed.

Tucker laughed with disbelief. "Dude, you did that in like five seconds! That was so cool."

Sam nodded with a small smile. "He's really getting good, isn't he?"

Danny felt his face chill at the attention – was that a blush? He touched a gloved hand to his face.

He figured Sam and Tucker would be relieved to see he wasn't struggling with his ghost form as much, but he didn't expect them to be so… proud. It was hard to deny how good it felt to get validation after all his practicing. It'd only been a week, but he already felt like he'd gone from a crawl to a slow, clumsy jog.

It almost made all of the sacrificed sleep worth it. Every successful transformation he'd completed without gagging, every invisibility session without sinking through the floor, every time he looked in the mirror and didn't startle himself – it all took a small amount of weight off of his shoulders.

His friends' proud grins were contagious – Danny knew he had a long way to go before he could figure out his new normal, but he couldn't help but he proud of himself, too.

Chapter Text

Jazz hesitated outside of Danny's bedroom. She was hoping that Sam and Tucker's visit last weekend was a sign that Danny was feeling better, improving somewhat. But after they left, he'd kept himself locked in his bedroom all weekend, only slinking out when their mom called him down for meals. He hadn't even changed out of his pajamas all day on Saturday. Their parents had teased him, something about classic teenage laziness. Jazz knew better.

He'd gone to Tucker's house on Monday after school, but when he came home he looked even worse than he did this weekend. Sure, his physical injuries may be healing, but she'd never seen him so mentally drained. He was starting to argue with her regularly, exhausted and irritable rather than the usual playful quips meant to annoy her. Were Danny and his friends all still fighting? Was something going on at school?

Jazz had no idea. She hated not knowing.

Her parents seemed unconcerned. She'd pointed out Danny's attitude to them – the fatigue, the bags under his eyes, the way he seemed to drag his body everywhere even with his injuries almost completely healed. Their mom hadn't seemed to notice his new behavior until Jazz brought it up. To Maddie's credit, she promised to talk to Danny – a promise Jazz was sure she'd already forgotten about. Their dad brushed Jazz's concerns off, claiming that Danny's behavior was normal for boys his age.

Jazz should have guessed. Jazz and Danny both knew they couldn't go to their parents with any real problems.

Danny needed to talk to someone. Jazz was hoping he could talk to Sam and Tucker.

But it's not like those two are bastions of mental health either, Jazz thought, thinking back to her therapy session with Sam. Not only that, but his friends were just fourteen. They wouldn't know how to deal with someone in crisis.

That left her.

It always does, she thought, raising her fist to knock on his door.

A loud thump from within. The door rattled slightly in its frame, like he'd jumped or dropped something heavy. "Oh, goddamn it!" Danny's voice.

Jazz hesitated. What the hell is he doing in there?

"…more time. You've got this." Danny again, muffled this time.

Is he exercising in there? At night? Jazz raised her fist again and knocked.

A yelp from Danny inside. "W-wait! Just a second! I'm busy! I'm, uh…" Another bang. "I'm changing! I'm naked!"

Jazz wrinkled her nose. "At 9:00 pm?" She shouted through the door. She'd already seen him in his pajamas a few hours ago.

"Just give me a…" Another thump. A bright white light flashed under the door. A crash. The distinct sound of vomiting.

Jazz felt something in her chest seize. She grabbed the doorknob and slammed the door open.

Danny was on the floor, tense and on his knees, curling in on himself. His face was buried in his wastebasket, which he gripped white-knuckled. He looked so small. A whimper escaped as Jazz rushed over and knelt next to him, gently pushing his long bangs back and away from his face. Danny tried to shoot her an angry glare, but his eyes were full of stinging tears. It just made her heart ache with pity. Danny batted at her with an arm, trying to push her away, but his retching rendered his swipes weak and ineffective.

"Danny, stop," Jazz chided, firmly grabbing his arm and moving his hand to the ground. Something inside her twisted as the smell of wastebasket hit her, and it was only made worse by the trembling in the arm she held.

Danny coughed and spit into his small trash can. "I don't need help Jazz, I'm fine," he complained, his voice gravelly from the vomiting. He looked up at her briefly to shoot her a glare. He couldn't hold it for long – almost immediately his face fell back into that expression of pure exhaustion he'd worn for days. He slumped back down, re-burying his face in the bin. He seemed to be finished vomiting for now.

"Yeah, you look absolutely fantastic," Jazz deadpanned, releasing the arm she was holding down. Immediately, she regretted her careless snark as her eyes fell to the phantom shivers that still racked his body. He was still in the same worn-down Star Trek tee shirt (that he really needed to throw out after all these years) and blue striped pajama pants he was wearing earlier – he hadn't been changing.

"Why are you even in here so late?" Danny's voice echoed slightly off the walls of the metal trash can. It was clear he tried to add bite to his words, but he just sounded exhausted. Always exhausted.

"Because Mom and Dad are asleep," Jazz said softly. She raised a hand to rub his back, but quickly thought better of it. Since the accident, Danny had constantly pushed her away whenever she'd tried to touch him. She had started wondering if his injuries had given him lasting trauma – something that brought tears to her eyes whenever she thought about it too hard. Instead, she stood up and moved back to his bedroom door, closing it softly. "We need to talk."

"Do we have to?" Danny whined, looking up at her. Green-tinged liquid shone on his bottom lip. The smell hit her again, a sour stench nearly as bad that glowing goo their parents were messing with when they were setting up the portal.

Jazz wasn't sure whether to roll her eyes at his juvenile behavior or pull Danny close to comfort him. Both would piss him off. Could he really not see how talking would help?

Jazz sat back down on the floor next to him, leaning back and settling in for what she suspected would be a long conversation. Her eyes traced the glow-in-the-dark constellations on Danny's ceiling and thought back to when they first put those up together. Their giant of a dad promised to help stick the stars up, but Danny didn't want to wait until the evening when their dad was free. Danny had begged her to help instead, and she'd readily agreed, happy to be seen as a stand-in adult. God, how old were they? She must have been around 11, making Danny nine.

Jazz had hauled the kitchen step-ladder up the stairs and stood on her tip-toes, sticking plastic stars on the ceiling while a tiny Danny read out of his astronomy book and dictated where stickers should be placed for accuracy. Their decorating eventually devolved into bickering, which turned into… she couldn't remember. They probably just started playing ghost hunter or snuck to the kitchen for some pre-dinner snacks. They always used to solve their problems so quickly.

Danny coughed, his rasps echoing off of the metal bin. He was shaking so hard she could swear she felt it through the floor. Jazz shook her head and sighed. "Remember when we were little and things were so much easier?"

Danny slowly sat up with a small groan and slid the bucket away from them, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "You have no idea," he grunted as he pushed the bucket away from them. The sound of the metal scraping against the tile echoed in the room for a moment, followed by the sloshing of the contents inside. Jazz followed the bucket with her eyes, mentally preparing to clean any spills up off the floor if she needed to.

When the liquid quieted, Jazz tore her eyes away from the bucket then looked back up at the stars. "You're right, I don't. I have no idea what you're going through."

Danny groaned and laid down on the floor, eyes on the ceiling. "Wow," he said sarcastically, throwing his arms up. "So I'm right for once."

Jazz resisted the urge to react negatively to Danny's tone and smiled as gently as she could. "Danny, you're right a lot of the time." She reached over to try and brush his sweaty bangs away from his forehead, but he smacked her hand away. Of course. "You know way more than me about so much – astronomy, for one." She gestured to the ceiling. "Do you think I'd have any clue how to set this galaxy up?"

Danny gave a weak, breathy chuckle. Jazz resisted the urge to crinkle her nose at his acidic breath, forcing another smile to encourage his attempt at a positive reaction. It was something. "Yeah… I guess."

"Then can you admit that I may just know more about psychology? You're setting off a lot of warning bells for me, and I'm… I'm scared, Danny."

"Trust me, Sam and Tucker have more than covered the 'helping Danny' bases."

Jazz looked down at her brother, trying to lock eyes with him. He purposefully avoided her gaze, staring at the ceiling with half-lids. "Danny, you're my brother," she tried again, throat tight. "Why can't I be here for you, too?"

His face stayed unnaturally stoic. There was no reaction to her words, he might as well have been a corpse. "There's just some things I have to figure out first."

"Like what?"

"Things, Jazz." The venom in his voice made her flinch.

"Can you at least tell me why you're in here throwing up?" Jazz begged, before catching herself. Yelling like normal sibling squabbling wouldn't get them anywhere.

She took a deep, shaky breath and looked at her brother. His pajamas hung on his almost frail frame. Seeing him there, so small, made her remember how ravenously he ate that Nasty Burger the other day. A horrible thought took shape in her mind. "You aren't… was it on purpose?" Jazz asked, trying to keep her voice level.

Silence hung between them. She wasn't sure what would be worse, Danny confirming her fears or continuing to deny something was wrong.

Irritated confusion flashed across Danny's face for a beat before his eyebrows raised in understanding, expression softening. He finally returned her eye contact. "Oh. Jazz, no, I… no. Trust me, no. Throwing up is about the last thing I wanna be doing right now."

"Then are you sick? Is it because of what happened last-"

"No," Danny said, firmly cutting her off. His face fell back into that resigned dead-like expression as he looked back to the ceiling. "I'm fine. My face healed, didn't it? Tucker's mom just had some bug that I must've caught."

For a moment, just the shortest of moments, Jazz believed him.

But why wouldn't he have mentioned this before now? Why would Tucker be at school if he mom was so contagious? Jazz realized with dread that she had no clue if Danny was lying or not. His entire life, he'd been so easy to read. Even before her psychology books taught her how to read others, she knew her brother. She always knew what was going on with him. Where had this distance come from? It had to be related to his accident, right? This couldn't be just puberty, or high school troubles… right?

Jazz really, truly didn't know.

"If you're really fine, why don't you want to study together anymore?" Her voice came out as a whisper. She knew if she spoke any louder she'd start screaming or crying, probably both. She couldn't do that to Danny. Not now.

"Some things are more important than school, Jazz!" Danny snapped, sitting up suddenly. "Maybe if you pulled your nose out of your stupid psychology books for five seconds you'd know that!"

Jazz's heart wrenched. She knew she had about thirty seconds before she burst into tears. Without a word, she walked over and grabbed his wastebasket.

Danny went to stand up, clearly sensing the shift in mood. "Jazz, wait, you don't have to -"

But she was already gone, closing the door behind her.

Chapter Text

Danny swallowed.

He shouldn't be so afraid. It was just the stairs to the basement. The nauseating, glowing green basement. Where a ghost could apparently float through the portal at any time. The stairs warped, dark spots clouding his vision.

Danny turned away, shoulders hunched. He gripped the kitchen counter for support – he knew by now what fainting felt like. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

I DON'T THINK I CAN DO THIS, he began to type out, using correct grammar in his texts for once.

"Definitely not to stall," he murmured as he finished his text, smashing the "7" key four times. Send.

Beep. An instant response. Great.

DO YOU NEED US TO COME OVER? WE CAN.

Of course Tucker was on his PDA. His stupid PDA with a full keyboard. Danny dropped the charade and fell back into his normal texting style as he leaned into the kitchen counter.

N0 TX JUST DRAMATIC

YOU GOT THIS, DUDE.

Danny stared at the screen as if looking at Tuck's message for longer would actually psyche him up. No such luck. He sighed and snapped his phone shut, keeping it in his hand instead of shoving it back into his pocket. Knowing his friends were an instant phone call away made him feel marginally better.

As much as he wanted to ignore the ghosts that were escaping into Amity Park, he knew his parents were the only people equipped enough to handle the issue. Unfortunately, that meant actually talking to them about it. He'd spent weeks avoiding them – luckily, that hadn't been too hard. After they got out of their funk a few weeks ago, all they wanted to do was tinker with the portal, or add weapons to the OP Center, or work on retrofitting the RV with random ecto-features.

For once, he was happy that ghosts took precedence over discussing his life. But that was also going to make this conversation a lot harder.

Danny turned back around and quickly made his way for the stairs, not giving himself too much time to think about it. He hurried as he hit the first step, sailing down the staircase. The sooner he made it down, the sooner it would be over. As he ran into the lab, he kept his eyes on the floor, avoiding looking at the portal.

His dad gave him a cursory glance as he entered. "Good to see you out of your room, son."

Danny bit back the irritation that instantly flared up. He positioned himself with his back to the portal and gripped his phone tighter. He wouldn't have to be in his room if he wasn't so tired all the time, if he didn't-

His mom nodded without looking up from their work, a giant metal contraption on one of the work desks that they'd pushed into the center of the room. His parents sat on stools in front of the table, hunched over their invention. Wires, screws, and other random parts littered the floor at their feet. "You really should come out of there more often, sweetie. Jazz has been worried about you. You should tell her you're fine. You know how she gets."

Danny opened his mouth to argue but quickly snapped it shut. "Y-yeah. Okay."

He wasn't fine. Jazz knew it, he knew it. He felt a pang of guilt over how he'd snapped at her the other day. Even after their fight, Jazz had been nice enough to clean his trash can and leave it outside his door. His sister could see how much he was struggling while his own parents were clearly blowing off her concerns. Why couldn't his mom and dad see it, too? He knew he was hiding everything from them, but… a selfish part of him wanted them to see through his lies, even though he was trying so hard to pretend he was okay.

Maybe I should tell them.

Danny turned away from his parents, taking a moment to think. From the sound of it, they made no reaction, engrossed completely in their work – soft tinkering peppered with the occasional loud whir of the electric drill. He kept his eyes trained on the ground, avoiding looking at the closed steel doors that separated his basement from that world of neon green. Maybe they wouldn't be mad that he snuck into the portal. Maybe they would hug him; tell him everything would be alright.

His heart stopped. Maybe they could turn me back to normal.

Back to worrying about his grades and fitting in at school instead of falling through the floor or accidentally transforming into a ghost in class and getting carted off to Area-51. He flicked to the portal, the source of all his problems. An image of him being torn apart by clinical government agents flashed through his mind. He shuddered, dismissing the thought. Just dealing with a normal high school hellscape sounded like heaven to him.

Danny turned back around, shoving his phone into his pocket and wringing the hem of his shirt. The escaped ghosts could wait.

"Guys, uh… I've been wondering something."

"What's wrong, hon?" Maddie asked, her voice flat and detached. She kept her eyes trained on the machine in front of them, continuing to tinker away with her husband.

Danny hesitated, noting their lack of attention. "I've just been thinking about… well, about ghosts."

Tools clanged as they fell from Jack's grasp. His father looked up and beamed at him. "Ghosts, eh? That's what I like to hear, son! Go on."

Maddie smiled and leaned forward attentively. She reached for her husband's hand, clearly trying to contain her excitement.

Danny avoided their intense eye contact. Of course they wanted to listen when it involved ghosts. "Have you ever, uh… heard of a ghost that can, I don't know, pretend to be alive?"

Maddie nodded. "Of course, it should be possible. You know we hypothesize that ghosts can alter the density of their cells to phase through objects – I don't see why they couldn't use this ability in reverse, to appear as solid as a human." She tapped a finger on her chin in thought. "That's a very interesting concept, Danny!"

Jack squeezed his wife's hand. "Look at him, already taking an interest in ghosts like his old man."

Danny shook his head. He hesitated, not wanting to get too specific. "I mean, like… really pretend. Blood, breathing, a heartbeat, all of that. Like… like they're not dead."

Maddie narrowed her eyes in thought, taking the idea in.

Jack shook his head. "That's a terrifying thought, Danny. Ghosts that pretend to be human… how could you trust anyone anymore?"

"But what if it was on accident?" Danny blurted. "What if they didn't want to trick anyone, it was just a ghost power?"

"Don't call them 'powers,' sweetie," Maddie said with a lighthearted scoff. "Do you say birds have the power of flight because they have wings?"

Danny looked down, clenching his jaw in frustration. His parents tended to talk to him like was a dumb kid, especially when it came to ghosts, but he didn't anticipate how bad it was going to feel.

Jack continued, oblivious to Danny's shift in mood. "And they certainly wouldn't discover these abilities by accident. It's something innate, son."

Maddie nodded. "Like their desire to haunt their place of death. Their need to kill. It overtakes the rational part of them that was once human. Flight, phasing through objects – this should be as intuitive to a ghost as walking or talking would be to you or I."

Danny bit his tongue, resisting the urge to defend himself. He hoped the pain would keep his ghost abilities from flaring up.

He was the first to acknowledge didn't know much about his ghost side – but he knew that even when he was in his ghost form, he always felt the same as he did as a human. Scared. Confused. Tired. The urge to haunt the portal was non-existent – he did everything he could to avoid the basement. And he'd rather go through the portal twice than even think about killing someone.

Were all ghosts like that? Or was it just him?

"But you don't… know that, right?"

Maddie's eyes narrowed, excitement dying. Danny fidgeted. "Technically it's all a theory right now. You know that, Danny. Nothing's conclusive until we can actually capture a ghost and study it." Maddie sighed. "But just like evolution, there's plenty of evidence to support our claims."

Jack grunted in agreement and let go of Maddie's hand. He turned back to the device in front of him, adjusting his work goggles. "What's prompting this, Danny?"

His parents hated having their ideas challenged. But this wasn't a theory. He wasn't a theory. This was his goddamn life now.

"I was just wondering…" He swallowed. He felt his heart pounding. "I was just wondering what would happen if there was a human who… who somehow was like a ghost. O-or, a ghost that was like a human. I guess."

Maddie sighed again, deep and exhausted. She pushed her goggles up onto her forehead and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sweetie, did you read this in one of your comic books or something? Did you watch a horror movie with Sam?"

Jack held up a piece of what they were working on and examined it. It looked like the barrel of a gun. "Son, you may as well be asking us about mermaids. If you're old enough to know that fish can't combine with humans, you should know ghosts can't, either."

So that's all he was to them? A stupid kid who believed in fairy tales? If this was a fairytale, he was the Big Bad Wolf. A monster masquerading as a human and doing a piss poor job of it. Instead of exposed fur and claws, Danny was turning invisible in fifth period.

Danny watched Jack rotate the weaponry in his hands.

And just like the wolf, he'd end up dead if he wasn't too careful around the hunters.

"Danny, you know she just wants the best for you." Sam said as she watched the ghost of her best friend flail in the air, trying to find his balance in that odd zero-gravity state.

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled, his voice distorted by the static that always accompanied his ghost form. "I feel so bad for yelling at her, I just-" Danny's arms wind milled as he suddenly fell. He stumbled roughly on the ground but landed on his feet.

At least he stayed upright this time. When they first arrived at the park that night, Sam had dashed over every time he looked like he was about to fall. Danny finally convinced her to back off when he said it made him feel like he was a little kid being watched by his helicopter parent. Now, she was settled into the grass, cocooned in a worn black throw blanket she'd brought with her, pretending like it was normal to watch your glowing friend practice his dead-person superpowers. Goth's Guide to Ghosts lay open in the grass in front of her.

Danny launched back into the air, soaring higher this time, almost three feet in the air. The aura of his body cast ominous shadows on the blades of grass. "I just know it's only a matter of time before she figures out this whole…" Danny gestured at his whole body. "…thing. Did you know my eyes were glowing when she gave me that ride home from Tuck's?"

"I get why you don't wanna tell your parents, but why not Jazz? You guys are pretty close, right?"

Danny sighed. His body tilted diagonal in the air. "I don't know… we used to be. Either way, we can't be anymore. I know she'd tell my parents, Sam."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. She'd probably get all worried about me and think they're the only people that could help. You know her, she's obsessed with fixing people."

Sam nodded. And parents never understand, she thought glumly.

Sam had tried to explain to hers why she needed to be out so late – a half-truth of helping Danny with a physical fitness project. Sam looked up at Danny, who was trying to float back-and-forth and only partially succeeding.

I mean, this is physical, and definitely a project.

Of course, like always, they just assumed she was lying to go to some goth meetup or something. Even though that only happened one time. She wondered if they'd understand if they knew she was helping out a friend who desperately needed someone to talk to, to be there for him. Or if they'd still just get mad at her for being out late. She definitely didn't want to find out, so she snuck out after she knew her parents were asleep. Now that she was here, she was glad she came, even though she'd definitely be grounded after this. Danny needed her here, especially since Tucker hadn't responded to his late-night group text.

He couldn't even talk to his own sister without being afraid.

Sam shrugged. "You could always just do what I did."

Danny held his hands out, using them to keep his balance in the air. "What?"

"Do fake therapy with Jazz. Make up some other reason you're upset."

Danny groaned. "I don't wanna do that. I already feel bad enough for lying to her." Finally, he caught his balance, floating stably in the air. "Sam?"

"Yeah? Are you okay?"

"Once again, fine," he said, rolling his eyes playfully. "I just wanted to thank you for coming out here with me tonight. It's nice to be somewhere where I don't have to worry about crashing into walls."

"Even though there could be other ghosts out here?"

"Hey, I told you my parents are handling that. Don't worry about it."

Sam solemnly looked down at Goth's Guide. "Even though none of the other powers we tried worked?"

Danny waved off her concern with a smile. The motion of his arm sent him in a slow aerial cartwheel. "Hey, if school's taught me one thing, it's that you don't learn anything from books." He waved his arms slightly to try and stop the rotation to no avail. "We'll figure it out. I've got you, don't I?"

Sam felt her face heat up.

Danny stiffened and stopped rotating with a jolt, leaving him hanging upside down. His face glowed brighter with a blushing green glow. "A-and Tucker!"

"And Tucker, of course," she said too quickly, closing Goth's Guide as an excuse to break eye contact. She looked at the cartoonish green specter on the cover, thinking back to the ghost that escaped the portal. The other ghost that flew down the road outside Danny's house. Neither of them had tried to hurt her – they couldn't all be malicious like Danny and his parents said. "It'd just be nice to talk to an actual ghost about this kind of stuff. They'd probably know what's real and what's just some theory."

Danny chuckled. The glow began to die down from his face. "What, you don't think I'm an actual ghost?"

"You're definitely a ghost, but… I'm pretty sure most ghosts can't turn alive again." Sam looked her glowing friend up and down. "You're like, I don't know… half-human, half-ghost."

Danny's chuckle grew into a laugh. "Half-ghost? That's a pretty funny way to say I can live and die on command."

Sam pulled the blanket tighter around herself, suddenly self-conscious. She didn't want to think about the connection between being a ghost and being dead right now. Not when her obviously-a-ghost friend hovered in front of her. "You're right. That was stupid," she muttered.

Danny quickly rotated to righten himself. His neon eyes grew wide. "No, I liked it! Half-ghost. It's catchy."

"You don't have to say that, it's okay."

Danny floated over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to shiver. It was freezing, even through her blanket. "I mean it. I like it."

Sam smiled softly at her friend and nodded, resisting the urge to say something sarcastic to dispel the heavy emotions in the air. She didn't do emotions well lately. But she was trying.

Danny let go and glided backwards, giving himself more room to practice. "Tucker's gonna be jealous when he finds out you basically just named a new lifeform. I'm sure he'd kill to do that."

"Judging from Tucker's homemade beauty products, I think he lost his naming privileges."

Danny's laughter echoed with a spectral quality in his chest, a sound that she was starting to find comforting rather than disconcerting. "I can see it now. 'Ghosts' by Tucker Foley."

Laughter in his ghost form meant he wasn't hurting. It meant things may just be okay. It's what she kept telling herself. Things had to be okay.

"You're getting pretty good at that, by the way."

Danny's laughter died down. "What do you mean?"

"I mean look at you."

Sam gestured to Danny's floating body. He was hovering in the air naturally, no erroneous movements. He stiffened before his form flickered out of visibility for a moment. The area plunged into darkness with the only light source now invisible.

"Well," his disembodied voice said with a hint of embarrassment. "I mean, I have been practicing."

Sam squinted slightly at the spot where her friend must be hovering, searching for any sign that a living human occupied that invisible space. Of course, nothing. He wasn't alive right now. The absurdity of their situation sank over her. She wrapped her blanket tighter around her shoulders, a small familiar comfort in a world that hadn't made sense in a long time.

"What does it feel like?"

"Being a ghost?"

"Yeah. Being a ghost. Flying. Turning invisible. All of it."

The grass in front of her flattened with a rustle as her invisible friend landed on the ground. "It's kind of hard to answer that. I mean, what's it like being human, ya know?" Danny paused. "It's like comparing the feeling of a paper cut to, I don't know, eating your favorite food or something. Everything feels so different, hard to describe."

He chuckled quietly. "You know, my parents said this stuff is supposed to be easy for a ghost. Something built in. But it's all so new feeling."

Danny silently popped back into sight. Sam squinted for a moment at the sudden glowing light of his body. He was sitting in front of her, legs crossed. He looked at her with bright, acidic eyes. She felt examined under their intense light, even though she told herself it was the same old Danny looking at her. The same Danny who rambled about video games and the stars and stumbled over his words. The same Danny she got killed.

His inhuman eyes glowed at her. She looked away.

Danny shifted out of the corner of her eye. "I guess there is one thing I can say about what it's like being a… a ghost."

She looked back at her friend. "What's that?"

"It's not as scary anymore."

Chapter Text

Beep.

"STOP!"

His eyes shot open. Green waves of energy swirled around him, paralyzing him, holding him captive no matter how much he tried to thrash. His muscles tensed so strongly it felt like they'd crack his bones in half at any moment. His eyes burned, searing pain from the inside, like they were filling up with lava.

Not again. Not again.

His friends screamed his name, but Sam's voice was distorted. Lower, gravelly. Laughter. They were laughing at him now. Of course they were, he'd let himself go into the portal twice.

Tears stung his eyes, searing and hot, sliding down his cheeks like knives. He finally fought his tensed muscles and clutched his head with aching arms. "I CAN'T DO IT AGAIN!"

A deafening crack.

The portal was… wait. No, he was…

The classroom. He was in class. That's right.

Danny blinked, dazed as he sank back into reality. Tucker was in front of him, gripping his arms. Looking nearly as frantic as he felt.

"You good?" Tucker whispered with urgency.

Oh god, he was in class.

Danny, shaking, turned away from his friend and up toward the front of the science lab. Lancer stood at the white board, angry and red-faced, squinting against the bright light of the overhead projector that bathed his body in illuminated homework instructions. His tensed arm clutched a ruler – the one he had smacked against the board to pull him out of his stupor.

"If you're quite finished, Mr. Fenton?" Lancer snapped, bewildered.

Danny's heart would have begun to pound in his ears if it wasn't already. He'd never been shouted at by a teacher like that before.

"Yes," Danny croaked. He became aware of how dry his throat was.

"Excellent," Mr. Lancer snapped, sarcastic. "If you have such a problem with my lesson plan, then I'm sure you'll be happy to discuss it at length with me after class."

Danny nodded numbly. He was faintly aware of the sound of Dash chuckling near the front of the room.

Mr. Lancer took a deep breath and turned back to the board, gesturing to different parts of the homework instructions with the ruler.

Danny was already tuning him out, still getting a grip on his surroundings. Of course he was in the classroom, how did he forget he was in the classroom? Why would he even go into the portal twice? It didn't make sense.

But just for a second it felt so real, like a dream that consumed his reality while he was still awake. He looked at his hands. He didn't know what was going on but he knew he needed to ground himself.

They looked the same as they always did. His fingernails were still jagged from his bad habit of picking at them when he was frustrated. He still had a freckle on his left wrist. He still had… no. His scar was gone. He lifted up his right hand, studying it inches from his face, not caring how stupid he must look. He'd always had that scar, from the dog, where did it go? Was he still dreaming?

Tucker's hand came into sight and clutched his forearm firmly, lowering it back to the table. Danny watched it with no reaction, as if it was happening to someone else's body.

"Dude," Tucker whispered, close enough to feel his breath on his face. "You're breathing too fast. You need to calm down. Now."

Tucker was right. Danny hadn't noticed, but he was breathing so quickly he was starting to get light-headed. He wanted to calm down – but he didn't know how. How could he when he didn't know what was real and what was a memory?

Tucker's nails dug into his arm. That helped. Pain was real. Until his arm turned intangible on instinct.

"Your eyes," Tucker hissed under his breath, retracting his arm.

Danny turned to his friend, who was awash in a faint green glow. Shit. Not now.

Danny took a panicked glance around the room before folding his arms on the desk and quickly burying his head in them, squeezing his eyes shut. Nobody had seen, as far as he could tell. Lancer was answering someone's question and the rest of the class was looking at the board or taking notes.

Three weeks ago taking notes would have been the most important thing on his mind right now. Maybe mildly nervous about an upcoming test. Instead, he was anxious all the time. Scared of being discovered by his parents, scared of disappointing his friends, scared of who he was.

Part of him wished he hadn't lied to Sam last weekend about being brave. He wasn't. He dug his nails into his palms, fighting off tears that threatened to form.

He hated being a ghost. It wasn't fair that he had to die in his parents' death trap, and not only that, he couldn't even die for real. At least then he wouldn't have to go through this. He wouldn't have to feel the terror of his heart stopping every time he switched forms. He wouldn't have to practice how to control and hide his powers to avoid getting murdered by his own parents. He wouldn't have to hide what an inhuman freak he was in the middle of science class. He wouldn't have to get yelled at by Lancer when he was so proud of him earlier this month.

He was just fourteen.

When the bell rang, Danny packed his bag as slowly as possible, as if that would delay the inevitable.

"You gonna be okay, man? You want me to wait outside for you?" Tucker asked, nudging his friend gently as he slung his backpack onto his shoulders.

Danny stole a nervous glance at Mr. Lancer. "Uh… sorry, yeah, Tuck. I mean, no, I'll be fine. Head home. I'll text you later, okay?"

Tucker followed his eyes over to Lancer. Their teacher seemed busy organizing the papers on his desk. He pointedly avoided eye-contact with Danny, lips pressed into a tight line.

Tucker turned back to his friend and frowned for a moment. "Yeah, okay. You got this."

He gave Danny a pat on the back before joining the stream of other students making small-talk and slowly filtering out of the room. Danny chewed on his thumb nail as he zipped his bag closed. With the last student out the door, the room filled with silence and tension. Danny stared at his backpack, trying to stay calm. If any ghost power activated right now, he'd be screwed.

"Well, Danny?"

Danny continued staring at his bag. There was no way he could explain the truth, and no possible lie he could come up with that wouldn't sound ridiculous.

"Come up here, won't you?"

Here we go.

Danny picked up his bag and slung it onto his shoulders as he walked up to Mr. Lancer's desk. His teacher's expression had lost a lot of its bite. Now he just looked tired.

Lancer slid a piece of paper toward Danny. His science homework from last week. A large 61% was circled at the top in damning red ink.

"What's going on with you, Danny?" Mr. Lancer asked gently. "When this year started, you seemed so excited to be in my classroom. Now you can't wait to dash out the door."

Danny opened his mouth to protest. "That's not true! I just-"

The teacher held up a hand, cutting Danny off. "Really?" Mr. Lancer asked, measured. And what would you call shouting in the middle of my classroom for me to stop teaching, complaining that you can't bear to do my assignments again?"

Danny looked down. He was hoping he hadn't shouted out loud. But of course he had.

"What's going on with you, Danny?" Mr. Lancer asked again.

Danny shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. "I don't know. Just tired," he said, clipped. "High school is uh, harder than I thought it'd be, I guess."

"And I sympathize. But do you see how that doesn't excuse disrupting my lesson?"

Danny crossed his arms, hugging his torso. "Yeah. I didn't mean to," he said, too quickly. "It was… I know it's hard to believe, but it was, uh, it was an accident."

"An accident? Care to explain how?"

"It was just a nightmare. Those happen sometimes."

"You expect me to believe you were having a nightmare with your eyes wide open in the middle of the day?"

Silence hung between them. It was the best lie he had – he didn't know what else to say. Danny prayed he didn't turn invisible or sink through the floor, although part of him really believed it would be easier to phase out of the room and never return.

Mr. Lancer sighed, deep and heavy. "Danny, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Danny looked at his teacher, surprised by the subject change. He noticed that his teacher had bags under his eyes that would rival his own. He wondered briefly what it was that kept Lancer up at night. "An astronaut, I think."

"You don't sound sure. Why is that?"

"I don't know. I don't really care, I guess."

I don't even know if I'll be here when I'm older.

The frown lines deepened on Mr. Lancer's face. "That makes me sad, Danny. I think you'd make a great astronaut, or whatever it is you decide to put your mind to."

Danny shrugged. He knew Lancer believed in him. He wanted Lancer to believe in him. But he had bigger things to worry about now. It's not like there was any universe where he could pass NASA's MER now. They would try to test his vision and his eyes would glow green. They would take his blood and find out it's been tainted with ectoplasm. They would test his psychological health only to have him flash back to the accident in the middle of the exam. It was over.

So how could he care?

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, defeated. "Can I go now?"

Mr. Lancer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. "Sure, Danny. Go home, run off to whatever it is that's possibly more important than your future." He pointedly slid the graded homework closer to Danny.

"Whenever you're ready to care again, I'll be here."

Jazz sat on the sofa, trying to pass the time by reading Surviving Adolescence Through Therapy. It was a good read, one she found herself routinely engrossed in – but today her eyes glided over the words, not taking in their meaning. She bounced her leg, hoping it wasn't the first signs of restless legs syndrome. She was just nervous. Not anxiety disorder nervous, just… nervous.

She had to talk to Danny. He'd been avoiding her for over a week, but she was sure now – his erratic behavior, his irritability, his exhaustion – it all started with his accident close to a month ago. Whatever happened down there, his body healed what his mind could not.

She heard a soft thump outside and quickly turned her head to face the door. She waited for it to open. Nothing.

Jazz turned back to her book. She didn't know if Danny had general anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, or was simply afflicted by his teenager hormones making his life a living hell after an upsetting event, but she knew one thing. He needed help.

This was her last try before she asked some older for help. She didn't want to bring their parents into this, especially because neither of them had cared enough to notice anything wrong with Danny. She'd hinted for weeks only to have her concerns brushed off. But even if they didn't care, they at least had to authority to make her brother talk to someone. A psychiatrist, maybe? A therapist? Jazz knew there was stigma against mental healthcare, but their parents would understand when it came it their son, right?

The lock turned. Jazz quickly crossed her legs and pulled the book closer to her face, trying to act engrossed in the text before the door swung open. Danny would never talk to her if he knew she was waiting around for him.

"Were you waiting for me?"

Shit.

Jazz sheepishly lowered her book. "No! I just… well, I was just so excited to read my book that I sat right down on the couch the second I got home."

"I see the 'good lying' gene doesn't exactly run in the family."

Jazz sighed and put her book down. "With how much you've been lying to me this month, you could've fooled me."

Danny's expression darkened. "I wouldn't have to if you'd just leave me alone," he muttered, loud enough for Jazz to hear. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to or not. "Can't a teen go be emo in his room every once in a while? Isn't that, like, a normal part of growing up?"

"Every once in a while? Sure. Not every day, Danny. And especially not every day since a traumatic event."

Danny winced and looked away, jaw set. "Don't try to diagnose me. You weren't there. It wasn't a big deal."

"If it wasn't a big deal then why can't we talk about it?" Jazz leaned forward and held up palms up, imploring. "You think I want to be the annoying older sister? I don't, Danny, I just need to know you're okay."

Danny closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose for a moment, huffing. But just when Jazz was sure he would stomp up the stairs and slam the door to his room, he took a deep breath to calm himself down and opened his eyes. He gestured towards the stairs. "Fine. If talking will get you off my back… let's go talk, Dr. Jazz."

Jazz gestured to the chair next to the sofa. "We can talk here, if you want. Dad said him and Mom would be outside all afternoon working on some ghost addition to the RV or something."

Danny shrugged and approached, plopping down on the chair next to her. His feet barely touched the floor, swinging for a moment. That little sign of youth contrasted so heavily with the look of pure exhaustion Danny was always wearing now. He was too young for whatever he was going through. Even when he tried to hide how he felt during family dinners, Jazz saw his smiles barely reached his eyes.

"You need to talk to me about the accident, Danny."

He shifted in his chair and looked away, bringing a fingernail up to his mouth to gnaw on. "Fine."

"It's clearly affecting you. You haven't been the same since."

Danny's eyes flitted around, clearly thinking. "I… I guess."

"How does it make you feel when you think about it?"

Silence hung between them. It made Jazz's heart pound, she had no idea what would come out of her brother's mouth. But at least he wasn't snapping at her or running away from his problems.

Danny took a deep breath and nodded. He dropped his hands into his lap. "It makes me upset," he said, eyes glassy. "Sam and I have never fought like that before."

Jazz blinked, taken aback. He was upset… about Sam? About their fight that day? Even though Sam was clearly trying to distract her from the chaos of the lab that day, Jazz had deduced Sam was genuinely upset at Danny. After all, it was the first and only time she'd seen that girl cry, and those tears were undoubtedly genuine.

"But… you and Sam have hung out since then. And I saw the lab that day, Danny, there's no way you guys were playing your computer game down there like she said."

Danny returned her eye contact, half-lidded with a subtle expression she couldn't figure out. Sorrow? Exhaustion? Anger? "You're right. I'll come clean."

Jazz nodded, afraid to say the wrong thing and cause him to shut down again.

"Sam wanted to go into the portal. I didn't want her to in case it was dangerous. So I went in instead." His sentences were tense, clipped. "Turns out it was dangerous. You saw. That's what we fought about. Why she was crying. She was sad I got hurt." Danny looked away. "She just lied to cover for me. And I feel terrible about it. It… it keeps me awake at night. I don't want her to hate me for scaring her."

That was… it? He was just worried about his friend not liking him? After all this worrying about him, after every dodged question, his problem was just so… normal. Sure, it was connected to their parents' stupid ghost machine, but the core of the issue was something every teenager goes through.

"We can… we can talk about that, Danny. Why would you hide that from me?"

"It just makes me feel stupid. I'm so worked up about something that doesn't really matter. I know Sam isn't mad at me for what happened, but... I don't know. Part of me feels like she is, I guess." Danny folded his arms. "And I didn't want you to tell Mom and Dad about her wanting to go in the portal."

Jazz nodded and slid over to the edge of the couch, closer to where Danny was sitting. "It's not stupid, Danny. I think it shows what a good friend you are." She reached over and put a hand on his arm. He tensed slightly under the physical contact. "And I don't think less of Sam for wanting to check out the portal. I mean… I don't think any of us thought it would actually work."

Danny turned back to her and offered her a smile. "Yeah. You're right, Jazz. Thanks."

She smiled back at him. "Thank you for finally talking to me. I worry about you, you know?"

"I know," he said, the first time she'd heard warmth from him in weeks. "Thank you."

Chapter Text

Danny didn't know how much longer he could keep the phony grin plastered on his face before it started to look fake. His cheeks felt numb. But all of his practicing in the mirror had clearly paid off, because Jazz finally looked relieved and comforted rather than upset or pissed at him for the first time in weeks.

Jazz rubbed his arm a little, a motion that was supposed to be comforting but felt about as pleasant as sandpaper right now. "You know what I think would help?"

Danny itched near where her hand lay on his arm, hoping she'd get the message. She migrated to his hand instead. If anything, that was worse. "Uh, yeah?" He took the opportunity to let his cheeks rest for a moment and pursed his lips – he hoped he looked mildly curious rather than excruciatingly uncomfortable.

"I think you should call her. Tell her how you feel."

Danny used the opportunity to move his hand out of his sister's grasp and fish around in his pocket for his cell phone. "You think so?" Danny asked, forcing his tone to be optimistic.

Perfect. Call Sam, act all emotional like you're making up, and escape to your room.

"She's your friend, Danny. And from what you tell me, she's a good one." Jazz smiled at him, radiating such a genuine warmth that he wanted to scream. "I think she'll understand."

Danny tried to push aside the waves of guilt washing over him. He didn't want to lie to Jazz like this. He hated lying. He hated that the stupid portal made it so there was no other way out of this. He doubted his lies would hold off her suspicions forever – but he just needed a little more time. More time to figure out how to hide his powers. His conversation with his parents told him there wasn't a way to turn back to normal… which meant he somehow find a way to be okay with being a ghost.

He knew he couldn't figure out how with Jazz breathing down his neck, worried about her baby brother.

As annoying as Jazz could be, Danny loved her. He didn't want her to worry. All of this was his problem. Maybe one day he could come clean – it was a nice thought. But right now, this was something she either wouldn't believe or couldn't understand.

Probably both.

Danny flipped open his phone and navigated to Sam's contact. "You're right, Jazz," he said. She always responded better when you told her she was right. He forced the edges of his lips up toward his ears so his eyes would crinkle in what he hoped was a convincing smile. Jazz gave him an encouraging nod.

Good, it was working.

"Do you want me here for the call? Do you need company? Emotional support?"

"Maybe just for the beginning?" That way you'll be convinced everything's okay.

"I'm here for you, little brother." She said with a soft smile.

Danny tried once again to shove aside the mass of guilt growing in his chest as he dialed Sam. She picked up on the second ring.

"Danny? Is everything okay?"

Danny clicked the volume button on the side of his flip-phone, quieting Sam's voice so Jazz couldn't listen in to the other half of the call. "Yeah, uh, I mean… well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Silence on the other end, except for a soft beeping. What was that? "Do you need me to come over?"

"No, no it's just…" Danny looked at his sister, who peered back intently. He was already regretting letting her listen in. Uncomfortable and paranoid that she could hear Sam, he stood up and paced. "Well, you remember our fight a few weeks ago?"

"What? When did we…" Laughter on the other end, accented by soft electronic beeps. He'd heard those somewhere before, but he couldn't place it. Was it from a video game? A cell phone preset? "Is your sister there, by any chance?"

Danny glanced at Jazz. "Yeah, I really regret it, too. I hate when we fight."

"Oh, I'm sure you're regretting starting a call with Jazz there. Can she hear me?"

"No, that's why I wanted to call you."

"Took my advice and doing therapy?"

"You could say that."

"You're just asking me to try and make you laugh, by the way." Danny didn't need to see her face to know that she was grinning from ear-to-ear.

Danny shifted the phone to his other ear. "You don't have to do that," he said, emphasizing the statement. "I, uh, I've been meaning to make up with you."

"Alright, fine."

"Thank you."

"Who did the ghost invite to the party?" Sam paused for a moment. Danny resisted the urge to let out a long sigh. "Just any old friend he could dig up."

Danny barked out a laugh despite himself. The joke wasn't even that funny, but he couldn't help it. Just nerves, he told himself, glancing at his sister again. Jazz shot him a cheesy thumbs-up. God. "You're totally right. We have been kind of stupid."

"Uh, rude! It was on theme and everything." The beeping grew slightly louder. It was from a video game. It sounded almost identical to the sonar in the NASA flight simulator. "How much longer until Jazz is convinced you're okay?"

Danny let out a hum and glanced back at his sister. She gave an encouraging nod. She wouldn't be convinced until she heard him talk about his problems. "Yeah, I… I told her everything."

"You what?" Sam asked sharply. "Didn't you, like, just tell me she'd tell your parents? Are you okay? I'm only at the park, I can be there quick. Do you need me to come over?"

Danny started to nod before remembering Sam couldn't see him. "Yeah, I…" He felt his throat tighten. God, he hated lying. "She told me I should give you a call. She was right. I don't wanna be mad each other, Sam. We're, like, best friends."

"You lied to her… didn't you?"

Danny forced a smile, turning toward Jazz and giving her a thumbs-up. "Of course. Thanks for always being there for me."

"Oh, Danny… I'm sorry." There was a pause, made more absent by the lack of beeping that he had been hearing. "Ah, damn it." He heard her hit something in the background. The beeping came back.

"Yeah… me, too. But that's why I've got you, right? I just, uh, wanted to let you know…" Jazz smiled and nodded. "I just wanted to let you know your friendship means a lot to me."

Sam paused for a moment, beeping filled the dead air. "I don't know if you're just saying that because Jazz is there or not... but it means a lot to me, too."

Those beeps, it was from a video game. It sounded so similar to the sonar in his flight simulators. What was she doing playing some NASA game? She'd never shown an interest in anything that would involve sonar, except…

That was it.

That device his dad showed him, the one Sam borrowed… the one he never saw her put back in the lab.

She still had it.

And if it was beeping, that meant…

That meant there was a ghost.

Danny put a hand over the receiver and turned to his sister with a smile, one he hoped concealed the panic that swelled in his chest. "Hey, Jazz, I think I'm gonna take the rest of this call in my room, is that okay?" His voice trembled, betraying him.

Jazz smiled fondly at him. "Don't be nervous, Danny," she said, keeping her voice low to avoid the receiver picking it up. "It sounds like it's going well. I'm proud of you. You did really great today."

Danny nodded quickly, flashing a smile at his sister before darting for the stairs. Shit, this was bad. This was so, so bad.

He clamored into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. "Sam! What the hell are you doing!"

Sam laughed. "Oh, we're fighting again?"

"We sure as hell are if you think you can go hunt ghosts on your own!" Danny hissed, lowering his voice at the mention of ghosts. "What are you thinking?"

Sam swallowed audibly. The beeping quickened in the background. "…Jazz isn't there anymore, huh?"

"You think?" Danny ran an unsteady hand through his hair.

"Look, Danny, I was going to put your dad's tracker back, but I started-"

"Sam, I don't care what you were thinking." The machine beeped. "You could get killed!"

His parents were right about the existence of ghosts, they were right about the portal, and now they were about to be right about how vicious ghosts were when he found his friend's mangled body in the middle of the park. This couldn't happen. Hadn't enough people died already? Sure, he wasn't really dead, but…

"…still there? Danny?"

Danny took a shaky breath, trying to not let his blend of fear and irritation overwhelm him. "What, Sam?"

"I'll be fine, Danny. You can't…" Sam sighed, nervous. Beep. Beep. "We need to talk to someone who actually knows what's going on. I can't help you when too much of the books don't apply to half-ghosts, and…"

Danny pulled the phone away from his ear, gripping it tightly and glaring at Sam's smiling contact picture as if she could feel his outrage through the phone. His tensed fingers tingled, turning intangible. He dove after his phone with his other hand, grunting. She wanted to help? How in God's name was this helping?

He jerked the phone back up to his ear. "Sam, just come over, okay? That's what you can do for me," he said, clipped. "Bring the tracker."

The tracker droned in the receiver. No beeps, just one solid tone.

Danny tried to swallow. His mouth was too dry.

"Sam?"

Chapter Text

Although all ecto-organisms display the ability of flight, density manipulation, and visibility manipulation, it is theorized that  the unique abilities ecto-organisms invariably possess relate to their passions in life. If the consciousness of a passionate fisherman were to re-form as an ecto-organism, one could reasonably predict that this being will find itself with the ability to conjure a sea storm or summon ecto-aquatic animals (J. Fenton, M. Fenton).

Not again.

Sam grabbed her pen and flipped back to the glossary of Goth's Guide to Ghosts. She looked back at the word she'd highlighted: abilities. She crossed off the page number she was just looking at and went to the next. 261.

…have speculated that this crime could only have been committed if the individual had the ability to walk through walls. Top ghost experts have debated this incident for years. Francine Welker of one of the world's top ghost hunting groups, The Groovy Gang, claimed that "there's, like, no way a normal human could've pulled this off. If we had the chance to scan for traces of ecto-matter, this would totally be a closed case" (Welker, 516). Madeline Fenton of the well-known ecto-engineering company FentonWorks also noted…

Sam groaned and kicked her desk chair out in frustration, rolling away from her desk and spinning idly for a moment. Why was it always a Fenton citation? Didn't anyone else have any merit in the ghost community?

She already knew the Fentons didn't know as much as they liked to think they did. Danny told her what they said. They wouldn't even entertain the idea of half-ghosts as a concept.

They said it wouldn't be possible.

She stared up at her bedroom ceiling, tearing her eyes away from her research for a moment. She couldn't help her mind wandering back to that day. The smoke curling off of his body. The screaming. The crying. Those rings surrounding her dead friend as he floated off the ground, his neon blood dripping onto the tile. The light seeming to sear his skin, absorbing the ectoplasmic glow from his body and replacing it with a battered fourteen-year-old human.

Nothing in her life felt more real, more visceral than that day. She knew none of them would ever be the same after what they went through. And his parents wouldn't even accept it as a possibility.

She ran a hand through her thick hair as she huffed in frustration. Sam looked back at her desk – already littered with so many notes and books even though she'd barely gotten home from school. She guessed she hadn't tidied in a week or two. Maybe if she cleaned up her thoughts would feel less chaotic.

Sam wheeled over to the recycling bin she kept on the ground, bringing it over to her desk for easier tidying.

I really should be more organized with these, she thought as she began sifting through her Post-It Notes, placing them one by one into the recycling. Half of these weren't even relevant anymore.

"Cold breath." "Changing forms." "White hair." These things were either solved or non-issues.

She kept a few, sticking them onto her wall. "Danny: Dead or alive?" "Ghost Zone."

"Other ghosts." That one she'd circled multiple times, the pen leaving deep, frustrated indentations in the paper.

God, what she wouldn't give to just talk to another ghost. They'd know how to help Danny, certainly more than his skeptic parents. She hadn't seen another one since the day they all listened to Danny's dad talk in the basement, despite Danny's ghost sense going off a few times during school and their hangouts.

Danny said his parents had it handled, but they would obviously just shoot first and ask questions later. It was clear from their research that they saw ghosts as mindless organisms, like a rabid animal.

Something that either needed to be studied for science or put down.

Beep.

Sam's brow furrowed. That was weird. That didn't sound like her phone. Her eyes flicked to her flip phone which sat on top of a pile of books and notes. The display was dark, yet the beeping continued, slow and muffled.

Sam pocketed her cell phone and pushed aside her printed articles, torn notebook pages, and books, carelessly shoving them onto the floor. The beeping grew louder as she cleared her desk, finally unearthing –

The Fenton Finder prototype.

She picked it up in her hands, the cool metal tingling her fingers. The display was lighting up, a red dot slowly flashing on the interface in time with the beeps.

A ghost.

A blend of guilt and excitement swirled in her chest. She really had meant to give the device back to Jack that day she put it into her backpack – but after their lengthy hangout it had slipped her mind. After she realized she brought it home, well… there was no harm in keeping it around in case a ghost showed up, right?

It was no secret that Jack could be forgetful, and she figured that he just moved onto some other invention. Maybe since this was a prototype, he already had a more advanced version ready to go, and this wasn't missed. Either way, Sam didn't ask and Danny never mentioned it again.

The beeping slowed as the red dot moved closer to the edge of the screen.

"Shit," Sam hissed to herself, tossing the device onto her bed and launching over to her closet to pull a coat off of a hanger before she had a chance to second guess herself. "Now or never."

She yanked the coat on, grabbed her favorite black scarf and wrapped it around her neck, and moved over to her backpack. She picked it up from the foot of her desk and dumping its contents on the ground. Homework fluttered to the carpet, pencils clattered off of each other. She had to be quick. What else did she need? Sam looked out her bedroom window. She was going out in the dark. God, why did it have to get dark so early in the fall?

She grabbed the flashlight she used for late night reading off of her nightstand then Goth's Guide to Ghosts and Ectoplasm in Fiction off of her desk, shoving them all into her bag. Her eyes shot to the Fenton Finder, still beeping. Good.

"Actually, not good," she mumbled, removing her scarf and wrapping the device in it. If her parents heard the constant beeping, they'd have questions. She shoved the cloth bundle toward the bottom of her backpack. The beeping was still audible, only slightly muffled.

Whatever.

It was the best she could do for now.

"She wouldn't be that stupid."

Danny groaned, pacing in his room. "Tucker, I'm like, 100% sure. She was looking for ghosts with that… that thing my dad gave her, I heard the radar thing on the phone, and she said she was at the park, and then the line went completely dead," he rambled, trying to keep his breathing under control.

"So ,what?" Tucker asked, bite in his tone. Danny couldn't tell if he was angry or scared. "Do we gotta go get her?"

"I mean…"

Yes! We absolutely have to go get her! Danny's thoughts screamed.

But even that certainty didn't stop horrible scenarios from leaking in and making him hesitate – what if ghosts were territorial and tried to kill him? What if they knew about his parents and had a personal grudge against the Fentons? He didn't know how to fight – he couldn't fend even a single ghost off, he knew it.

Sam was in trouble – all because he lied and said his parents were taking care of the loose ghosts. That it was no big deal. Of course she wasn't concerned when she went looking for one – he was the one that kept telling her there was nothing to worry about, wasn't he? Yet even knowing all of this, knowing it was his fault, Danny couldn't stop imagining horrible things that could happen to him.

He knew they had to go help. But the fear kept his jaw wired shut.

"Um… dude? If you aren't sure, that means we have to go make sure she's okay. You said she's at the park?" Danny heard Tucker's house keys jingle in the background.

Danny envied Tucker's conviction. He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. He just wasn't sure if it was brave or stupid. "Y-yeah. No, yeah, you're right. We need to get her."

"I can sneak out my usual way – you got a way to get there?"

Danny looked toward his closed bedroom door. "Jazz is downstairs. She thinks I'm having a fight with Sam. I don't… how can I sneak out? There's no way she'll let me by."

"Just go through the window, man. That's always my move."

Danny shook his head. "I don't have an awning like you do! It's just a straight shot down!"

"Dude, just Peter Pan out of there. Duh." He heard Tucker unlock and slide his window up.

"Yeah… yeah. Okay."

"I'll meet you there, okay? Call me when you're there?"

Danny walked over to the window and looked down. He could do this. "Uh…"

He had practiced this a million times by now. He was getting pretty good at flying. And even if he messed up, the street wasn't that far down. He'd probably just break a leg on the concrete. Or two. Goddamn it.

"Hey, actually, dude, you think you could stay on the line with me? I mean… this ghost business gets pretty freaky, you know. Would probably make me feel better."

Danny paused. Despite himself, a grin snuck onto his face, nervous and shaky. He sent a silent thank you to Tucker. He didn't know how he'd react if he was left here alone. He definitely needed the peer pressure to avoid fully panicking. "Yeah, uh, no problem. What are friends for?"

"Thanks, man."

"Let me just uh… transform, I guess. God, that sounds cheesy," he quipped, turning the speaker on and setting his phone onto his bed. Tucker's contact photo grinned back at him encouragingly. He held an enormous hamburger from a diner a few towns away, one they begged Tucker's mom to drive them to. A shot from this summer. They were both so carefree, so…

Danny shook his head. Don't think about it. Throw yourself a pity party later, Fenton.

"You're right, it is cheesy. It's cause you don't have a superhero call for it yet."

Danny nearly did a double-take. This was not the serious mindset he needed to get in right now. "A what? Tucker, I'm not a… we so don't have time for this."

"Lucky for you, I've been working on one. Seriously, what would you do without me?" Danny heard Tucker jump off of something with a grunt. "You were gonna make your first public appearance without a catchphrase? Criminal."

Danny clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms, his go to method for distracting himself from the waves of nausea that came with transforming. "Psh, yeah. Right. Criminal." He urged those glowing rings to appear and snake up his body. His stomach churned as his blood cooled and mutated into ectoplasm.

"You aren't ready for this," Tucker said proudly. A dog barked in the distance on the other end of the line. Danny's ears rung as the rings passed over his head.

Danny's head spun as the transformation completed. He slumped forward onto the bed, letting himself lay there for a moment to recover before he reached over and grabbed his, pinching it between his shoulder and ear.

"You're all ready to do something ghostly, right? And you're all geared up to transform – that's when you yell 'I'm going ghost!'"

Danny waited for the dizziness to die down before he stood up to bunch up his blankets. He hoped the lumpy shape looked enough like a sleeping person in case someone came to check on him. "You get that one from She-Wolf?" Danny deadpanned. He stepped back over to his window and slid it open. God, the ground was so far down. "What, does she say 'I'm going wolf' or something?"

Tucker spluttered. "No! Absolutely not! And frankly I resent that. I'm full of original ideas. You need a catchphrase! How else are you gonna get pumped up?"

Danny laughed, a sudden nervous bark that escaped his throat. He gripped his phone. "Yeah. Okay. Screw it, I could use a little pumping up right now."

Danny put one foot on the window ledge.

"I'm going ghost."

He jumped.

Chapter Text

Please don’t hurt me.  

Sam clutched the thick tree branch closer to her, grip tightening, her knuckles turning white from the strain. Twigs stabbed into her palms, soft skin that wasn’t used to fighting. She needed to avoid this, if possible. She tried again to reason with the ghost. Her eyes flicked over each of its five heads as she spoke, unsure which one (if any) had its eyes and ears. “Look, if other humans have hurt you, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it. But I just want to talk, no fighting. Can we just talk?”

The creature slithered closer slowly, threateningly, leaving a trail of foul-smelling slime in its wake. Ectoplasm. Did that mean it was bleeding? Or did other ghosts just leak like that?

“Um… can you talk?” Sam took a few steps back, slowly, trying not to frighten it. It lowered one of its grotesque heads in response and emitted a threatening growling sound from one of the mouths filled with countless tiny yellowing fangs. Its blob-like translucent body inched forward a bit more before snapping at her with another one of its heads, a warning. It was still a few yards away – its multiple necks were long, but not long enough to reach her.

Yet.

Sam consciously slowed her breaths, trying to even them out, to disguise the panicked gasps that she wanted to gulp down. Like her body didn’t know which breath would be her last, greedily screaming for more oxygen.

It’s okay. You can do this. You knew this was a possibility.  

“I’m vegan, you know? I don’t know if you used to be an… an animal, or something, but I think… violence against any life is wrong, so-“

A scream. Sam flinched. The sound of panicked footsteps running away echoed behind her. A few people had come across the ghost in the park since she arrived, thank god they all had the sense to run away.

If they’re the ones with sense, then what are you doing here?

The ghost leaked more ectoplasm onto the ground, casting the park in a neon green light. Wrinkles appeared in the crevices of its gelatinous body. Sam resisted the urge to gag at the stench. It was a smell she caught on Danny now and again these days, but it was always fleeting, never this bad. The ghost’s translucent skin warbled. The world’s most disgusting water balloon. 

It propelled itself forward more, hovering, closing the distance. It was just a few feet away now, well within biting distance. All of its heads snapped in unison. Somehow Sam knew this was the last warning. Her head swam. This ghost was a lot quicker than it let on. She knew she couldn’t run.

Sam swallowed with difficulty. The growing fear wasn’t helping her queasy stomach. 

Last chance. Make it count. 

“My friend… my friend, he… he died, and we don’t know how any of this works, being a ghost. You do, right? He needs help, and I-”

The ghost lunged. Sam tightened her grip on the branch and held it out in front of her, doing what she could to block the attack. Two of the ghost’s heads chomped down on the thick wood, its small yellow teeth grinding into the bark. The others reached around and found hold in Sam’s skin.

She cried out, she couldn’t stop herself. It only made the ghost dig in harder. One head was latched onto her calf, the other two on each arm. The ghost had gnawed through her clothes as easily as the skin of a fruit. Her clothes grew warm as they soaked up her blood. A thought passed through her mind, a worry about how horribly infected the wounds would probably get. She immediately cursed herself for thinking such stupid thoughts. She wasn’t going to live long enough for them to get infected.

Sam held her breath and yanked back, trying to escape the ghost’s grip. A cry ripped through her throat. The ghost’s teeth just dug in deeper, tearing at the branch, ripping through her flesh.

Hot tears stung at her eyes. They blurred the ghost, now just a bright green light shining encircling her. She was going to die here. Knowing there was an afterlife somehow just made it worse.

Sam’s breathing quickened. She grew light headed. “Please please please I’ll leave you alone I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come here I just…” She gasped more, raspy, quick. Spots clouded her vision.

She could have sworn she heard her name before she plunged into unconsciousness.

Danny’s foot connected with the monster’s head with a horrifying squelch.

He’d never kicked anything in the air before — the unexpected change in momentum sent him spiraling. He had just enough time to protect his head and neck with his arms before he crashed into the ground a few feet away.  

Danny groaned, the sound drowned out by a warbling growl. Danny pushed himself off the ground and into the air again, up and away from the creature to get a better grasp of the situation. Even landing on grass, he knew that his knees would bruise.

“You get messed up from some dirt and you think you can fight a ghost?” he muttered to himself. Puffs of condensation spilled from his lips, unhelpfully clouding his vision. “Yeah, thanks, got it,” he snapped at his ghost sense. “Super helpful!”

The ghost made an animalistic sound in response, harsh screeches emitting from all five of its heads — four more than Danny originally suspected the ghost had. Great. Danny didn’t need to speak the language to know it was pissed. But at least with all the attention on him, the ghost had dropped Sam so it could focus on snapping at him with all of its bulbous, eyeless heads. Sam lay abandoned in a heap behind them, tossed aside unceremoniously, the thick branch she was using as a weapon still laying in her hands.

Danny hoped Tucker would be here soon. Especially because he sure as hell didn’t have a plan.

Danny flew backwards, leading the creature away from his friend, careful to keep out of the ghost’s reach. Its large size was deceiving — the ghost seemed to have no issues giving small bursts of speed to keep up with him. It could fly, but it seemed to need to stay close to the ground. It left glowing, wet imprints on the ground whenever it landed in the grass.

This was it. All of the time spent practicing his powers, preparing for the worst — this is what it was leading up to. Playing cat and mouse with something from his nightmares. This was worse than everything his parents had described. Danny had always pictured deformed, dead humans — not whatever the hell this thing was. Was it even an animal? Did a human just end up like this somehow? Was he going to end up looking like this eventually?

Lost in his increasingly panicked thoughts, Danny didn’t notice as the ghost slowly closed the distance — launching upward with a lunge and sinking its teeth into his right leg. Danny yelped as the creature whipped him back toward the ground, smashing his body into the grass face-first.

Danny cried out, cold ectoplasm from his nose dripping down into his mouth, more vapor from his ghost sense spilling into the air. Intangible! Turn intangible NOW! He needed to ignore the shooting pains in his leg, the awful texture of the grass rushing by as the creature tugged him across the lawn like a wild animal — focus. Intangibility. The overwhelming tingling sensation, the flips his stomach did in response to the weightlessness, the — there!

He slipped out of the ghost’s grasp.

It was too fast.

The second he made his move it circled around behind him and caught him in mid-air, wrapping two of its thick, slimy necks around his body like a mutant boa constrictor. Danny pulled against it. No use. It trapped his hands. The monster wrapped itself tighter around him until his lungs couldn’t expand anymore. He knew he didn’t need to breathe in his ghost form, he knew it. But that didn’t stop panic from constricting his thoughts, screaming for him to STRUGGLE, GET LOOSE, BREATHE in such an unhelpfully human way.

The monster’s necks wrapped tighter still. He felt like a balloon that was about to burst. Danny tried to cough, but his lungs had no room to expand. He kicked frantically at the ghost, but his feet immediately lost footing as the beast hoisted him into the air, holding him above its torso. Something inside his body twisted, a sharp, deep pain that scrambled his thoughts even more. Danny let out a pathetic choking noise as he tried to find something, anything to attack.

The only physical impact he could muster was some of the fluid leaking from his nose harmlessly dripping toward the ghost’s body.

Landing right into the gaping maw that was opening up in its torso.

Rows of teeth revealed themselves in the giant cavity, seeming to reach for him, a thousand grasping fingers beckoning him to his permanent new home. Danny’s kicking grew stronger, panicked, enraging the injury that was stabbing at his side. All five of the ghost’s long necks wrapped around him, securing him in place and stopping his wind-milling legs as the monster lowered him closer to his fate.

Danny had thought a lot about his death over the last month. His second death. After experiencing it a first time, it was hard to regard life with the nonchalant approach of youth. He knew more than anyone that he wasn’t immortal, that anything could go wrong at any time. It felt like his second death, his final death, was always around the corner.

He knew it was childish, but he wanted to make sure his last words were something profound. Something about how he loved his friends, his family. How he wanted them to remember him before the accident, to remember the kid who just wanted to go to space.

None of that was on his mind now. Just animalistic panic. An innate need to break free. To survive.

The beast’s putrid stench wafted toward him. Danny’s head spun. He squeezed his eyes shut as the monster suddenly howled in his face, a noise that rattled his brain further and made his ears ring. 

The creature’s grip on him spasmed suddenly, punching into the wound in Danny’s torso before dropping him. 

With his last breath of air, Danny screamed. 

And landed face-first on dew-soaked grass, smashing his nose and sending more warm, metallic blood into his mouth.  

Warm. Blood. 

His eyes shot open, scrambling away from the neon glow of the ghost, vision panicked and unfocused. Its multiple necks flailed, writhing in the air. Danny looked down at himself – he had changed back. Goddamn it, when had he changed back?

Danny gave himself no time to think about why it seemed to be panicking. He scrambled to his feet. He just needed to grab Sam and get the hell out of here before —

“Sam?” Danny asked, the blood pouring from his nose muffling the last letter of her name. The exhale made his side ache. He whirled around. Where was she? She was right here, he couldn’t have been dragged that far away. He came here to protect her and now he couldn’t even —

“Get the HELL away from my friend!” 

“Sam!?” Danny whipped toward the voice, back toward the ghost. His right leg with the bite injury gave out, causing him to stumble back to the grass, landing on his injured side. He cried out at the shooting pain that flooded his thoughts. He rolled onto his other side with a whimper, trying to push himself back up. 

Hands grabbed him underneath his arms. They pulled weakly, trying to get him to his feet. “Danny, we need to go. Now. Can you fly?”

Danny pushed off the ground with a grunt, managing to limp to his feet. “I don’t know, I… Sam, oh my god, your arms.”

Sam shook her head, dismissing him. “Let’s go, then.” She took off, a limping haggard jog in the opposite direction of the ghost. Danny followed closely after her with a matching limp. The cardio required bigger breaths — it felt like his lungs were grinding against whatever injury he’d sustained.

Danny looked Sam up and down as they moved, trying to get an idea of what happened to her before he showed up. Her arms hung limply at her sides. Wet, dark blood stained the sleeves of her coat. White insulation popped out from the large tears in her coat, mostly dyed a deep red.

“What… happened… to it?” Danny asked, trying to take shallow breaths to avoid more pain.

“I stabbed it,” she snapped.

“You… what?” 

“I had a stick, a big one, I just…” Sam looked behind them, back at the creature.

She suddenly came to a stop. “It’s leaving.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Phantom.

Danny Phantom.

Danny mouthed the new moniker to himself. It still felt foreign.

Tucker came up with it earlier today, armed with a thesaurus flipped open to the "ghost" entry. He and Sam had come over to make a game plan for all the escaped spirits that were beginning to haunt the town. As days passed since Danny and Sam's battle in the park, it was becoming clear that they wouldn't be a secret for much longer. The local news had even begun to report on it, but for now they were treating everyone like they were lunatics. An old woman who swore she saw the ghost of her dead son in her backyard was framed as a tragic elder losing her mind to age. A security guard at a local laboratory claiming he saw four-legged monsters roaming the halls at night was used to discuss the dangers of overworking yourself. Miraculously, there were no reported injuries yet. Besides the few people who had seen them, nobody actually believed ghosts were in Amity Park.

That's why it was up to them.

And according to Tucker, that meant giving himself an alter ego.

Danny had protested at first — who would ever think the radioactive looking dead kid had a double life as a high school freshman with increasingly mediocre grades? And if the point was to hide his identity, didn't "Phantom" sound way too close to "Fenton?" But as they argued back and forth, it became clear that Tucker just wanted to come up with a cool superhero name for his friend. After all, Sam had been the one to name Danny a half-ghost.

It was only fair, Tucker had said.

So "Danny Phantom" it was.

The second part of their plan revolved around avoiding any injuries like the ones from Danny and Sam's fight in the park. Danny had healed quickly enough, but it was obvious that Sam would have scars for a long time, if not permanently. Danny didn't want to let his friends get hurt like that ever again.

That meant they needed some introductory lessons to ghost hunting. There was only one person they knew up for the job, and he was more than happy to comply.

Jack Fenton turned to face the three teens, who were situated uncomfortably in plastic chairs in the lab. "So, Danny…" he said, grinning at his son. "You and your little friends want to hunt ghosts."

Want? Danny thought. It was more like a necessity. No. He'd thought about it, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. And nothing, not even the accident, was going to get in the way anymore.

"Actually, Dad, I want to be an astronaut."