Work Text:
It's Called Perspective
By Vampyra142001
Beta: Emmalyn
"Tell you what, Wes. You come to dinner at my house, don't out me to my parents, and don't record anything; and I'll answer 10 questions about ghosts and show you my parents' lab," Danny offered, after Wes's latest attempt to reveal his identity to the whole school failed.
Wes hesitated. It sounded like a trap, but he was curious. He needed to know things and Danny was offering him a nearly free pass. All he had to do was behave for an hour or two. It was a steep cost, but he didn't see what was in it for the ghost other than a very slight reprieve from his more enthusiastic investigation.
"What do you get out of this?" Wes demanded.
"I already said the terms." The other boy was looking at him like he was stupid.
"No, I mean how does this benefit you?"
Danny rolled his eyes. "I don't know if you've noticed, but most of what I do isn't for my benefit. But in this case, giving you some perspective should benefit me."
"I'm not going to stop."
"Dinner's at 6, Wes," Danny said as he walked off towards his friends.
5:45 found Wes knocking on the front door to FentonWorks. It wasn't Danny who answered the door, but his sister, who narrowed her eyes at him. Wes's first thought was that she was trying to figure out who he was, but the calculating look made him feel like he wasn't measuring up to whatever standard she was comparing him with.
"Danny, Wes is here!" Jazz yelled. Wes stepped inside as she moved back.
Danny should have stomped down the stairs, but his movements barely made a sound.
The ghost eyed the camera around Wes's neck and sighed. Soon, Wes's camera, cellphone, and even the recorder he'd hidden in his pocket were quickly snatched and shoved into the wall. Surprisingly, this was done in front of Jazz, and she didn't seem fazed at all! Wes looked back and forth between the two siblings, mouth hanging open.
"The deal was to avoid outing me to my parents. Jazz already knows," Danny said.
"Is she…?" Wes started, not sure exactly what to ask because he wasn't completely sure what Danny was. A ghost, yes, but clearly more complicated. He made a hand gesture clearly meant to convey 'like you.'
"She's 100% human," Danny said. "I'd suggest following her lead with dinner if you want to avoid ecto-contamination."
"Contamination?"
"Welcome to the Fenton house." Jazz patted his shoulder and the siblings headed towards the kitchen.
If one ignored the eye-searing hazmat suits and the fact that one of them was a ghost, the scene in the kitchen could have been any midwest American family. The mom was at the stove stirring something, the dad was tinkering with something at the table, and the two kids were putting out silverware.
"This is the classmate I'm doing that science project with. His name is Wesley," said Danny to the room at large as he sat down at the table.
Science project? Wes thought. Right, they didn't know why he was really here. This was more of a humanities or sociology project, but Danny wasn't in either of those classes.
"Heya, kiddo!" the father greeted loudly. "Great to see Danny hanging out with other kids."
"I'm Maddie, and this is Jack. It's good to meet you," the mother said in a much calmer tone.
The dad - Mr. Fenton - frowned at Wes. "Say, aren't you the kid who keeps trying to tell people that Danny's a ghost?"
"Yep. I invited him over to prove that I'm just highly ecto-contaminated." Danny glared at Wes, daring him to say otherwise.
"We'll see what you prove," said Wes challengingly. Danny just rolled his eyes and continued setting the table.
"That's the spirit!" Mr. Fenton said. "But you have to be careful about your accusations. Sometimes you can hurt innocent people."
"Like causing someone to have to cut off several inches of mangled hair because you attacked them with a modified vacuum because you thought they were a ghost?" asked Jazz, her tone somehow both chipper and accusing.
"Yeah, Jazzypants, just like that!" replied Mr. Fenton.
How? How could they guess the wrong kid?
"Don't worry, Wes, your hair is probably safe," Danny teased.
Mr. Fenton cleaned up his gadget, sweeping it out of sight, and got up to help serve the food. It was so terribly mundane that it almost felt fake, but it clearly wasn't an act. How could they be so normal and yet so absolutely eccentric?
Wes blinked as a plate was set in front of him, pulling him back to reality. He started to pick up a forkful of meatloaf, but Danny kicked his foot under the table. Wes thought he'd missed some meal cue, a prayer or something, but Danny pointed at his own meatloaf and pressed it with his fork, squeezing juice out of it that faintly shimmered bright green.
Right. Ecto-contaminated food. Wes had to watch what Jasmine ate. Danny continued eating the meatloaf, and so did both of his parents. What the hell?
It turned out that only the meatloaf was unsafe - which sucked, because it would have been nice for the green beans to be justifiably inedible. Other than some questions about the fake science project, though, the conversation stayed light, mostly focusing on school and sports. Normal things.
And then Wes asked what Mr. Fenton had been tinkering with.
"I'm working on an improved version of the Fenton Finder," Mr. Fenton said.
"Our current model has a very short range," Mrs. Fenton clarified. "Ideally, we'll end up with a range spanning multiple city blocks and the ability to recognize repeat ecto-signatures. That will help us prepare for individual confrontations with ghosts that frequent the area."
Mr. Fenton grinned. "We'll finally be able to catch that ghost boy and rip him apart, molecule by molecule!"
The forkful of green beans that was halfway to Wes's mouth slid off his fork, landing in the remnants of his mashed potatoes. Wes glanced at Danny and Jazz who both suddenly seemed tired, picking at what little was left on their plates. This was clearly not a new declaration to them.
"Uh, but...aren't you guys scientists?" rasped Wes, his throat now dry.
"Of course, which is why we want to capture Phantom. He would be a very unique specimen," Mrs. Fenton agreed.
"We'd destroy him after studying him!" declared Mr. Fenton.
"I think I'm done eating," Wes said meekly. How did they not notice their children cringing? How did they not notice Wes cringing? They were talking to him and still seemed oblivious to his discomfort.
Danny was quick to hop up and take Wes's plate. "I'm done too! Let me get our plates in the sink and we can go up to my room to work on that project," he offered.
There were mutterings from the parents about inconsistent enthusiasm with schoolwork, but he and Danny made it up to the ghost's bedroom unaccosted.
"Are they always like that?" asked Wes.
"Pretty much. They've gotten worse over time as their bias against ghosts and frustration with Phantom grows," Danny said with a shrug. "But now you see why I don't tell them."
"Perspective, huh?"
The other boy sat down on his bed and reached into the wall to pull out a glowing jar of what had to be ectoplasm. Danny twisted the top off and took a long swallow, not flinching at Wes's mildly disgusted and very confused face.
"Sorry, I'm still hungry. Powers burn a lot of energy."
"At least you got to eat your meatloaf," Wes grumbled. "Also, what the heck was up with the meatloaf? Why was there ectoplasm in it?"
"I've never quite figured out how so much of our food gets contaminated to that degree. I just know that it's usually meat or milk that it happens to, and it doesn't seem to matter if there are samples of ectoplasm in the fridge or not." Taking another swig of the green liquid, Danny shrugged. "For the record, mild ecto-contamination isn't harmful to humans. I just didn't think you would appreciate finding out after the fact. And the taste is…unique. You probably would have thought it was a poorly chosen spice, honestly."
"'Mild,' he says as he drinks it." Wes wrinkled his nose.
"I also said 'to humans.' If you want further clarification, it'll count towards your 10 ghost questions."
Honestly, Wes had forgotten that part of the bargain. He dug his notepad out of his pocket, which was pretty much the only thing that Danny hadn't put behind the drywall. The jerk.
"All right, I'll bite," Wes said. "So if you're not human enough to be poisoned by ectoplasm, that makes you a ghost, right?"
"Nope. I'm half-ghost, half-human. 'Halfa' is what some of the ghosts call my kind."
Wes paused for a moment, processing that, before scribbling some notes.
"That's not possible," Wes muttered. "You can't be 'half-ghost.' You're either dead or you're not."
Danny just chuckled and finished downing the jar, then shoved it, sans lid, back into the wall.
"Okay, Mr. Knows-how-ghosts-work, check my pulse," challenged the ghost. He tilted his head away to offer his neck.
Hesitantly, Wes freed a hand so that he could press two fingers to Danny's neck. Sure enough, there was a pulse. It was a little slower than average, but clearly a pulse. Under his fingers, Danny changed forms, and the pulse slowed to a crawl. Wes pulled his hand back and rubbed his fingers on his jeans, trying to get rid of the too-cool feeling of the ghost's skin.
"See? Not all the way dead," Danny reiterated.
"How does that even happen?"
"For me? Messing around with a malfunctioning ghost portal." The ghost pulled off his left glove, revealing a strange, branching scar. "Danger, danger, high voltage."
Wes stared. "I wish I could take a picture with my camera."
"Remind me another day." Wes lifted an eyebrow at him. "What? It doesn't help your theory at all to have a picture of it." The white rings passed over Danny again, leaving behind a human without any scar. "Just like how, no matter how carefully you photograph me, my body-types aren't the same. It'll always work against you, whether or not people realize it, and that's why they don't believe your evidence."
"Wh- Why aren't they the same?" asked Wes, completely confused.
"Ghosts don't always look like they did when they were alive. The Box Ghost, the Lunch Lady, Johnny 13, and I are outliers in that we look pretty human. Johnny's actually got me beat on that, despite him being a full ghost." Danny's smirk said there was more to the explanation.
"Why aren't yours the same?" asked Wes, still scribbling in the notebook.
The smirk grew into a grin, but Danny wagged a finger at him. "That's a human question, so I don't have to answer."
Wes frowned in frustration. How was that a human question? It was about the difference between ghost and human forms. It wouldn't make sense for the issue to be with Danny's human side.
"Don't worry, Wes, you stalk me enough I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually," the ghost reassured him cheekily. "You've used up four questions, by the way."
"Hey, that last one doesn't count! You said it was a human question!"
"You're right, but the bit about me not being able to be half did count. It was a question, even if it wasn't phrased like one."
Wes huffed. So his interrogation skills wouldn't get him free answers. Oh well, a guy had to try.
Danny's phone pinged and the other boy got up, waving at Wes to follow.
"I had Sam and Tucker stage a distraction on the other side of town to get my parents out of the house so that I could show you the lab without either of us having weapons aimed at us," Danny clarified, leading Wes down to the basement.
Wes followed carefully. "I thought the Fenton ecto-weaponry couldn't hurt humans."
"Most of it can't," Danny said, "but not every weapon they create uses safe ecto-energy. And even if something can't hurt you, it doesn't mean it's pleasant. Like the netguns. Or the Fenton Weasel that chewed up Jazz's hair, the one she'd mentioned earlier."
"Do you have all of your parents' gadgets memorized?"
"Pretty much," Danny confirmed. "I have to."
Danny held a hand out when they reached the bottom of the steps, preventing Wes from walking into the lab yet. He turned to issue a warning. "Don't touch anything. Tons of things in here are harmful to both humans and ghosts, so if you touch the wrong thing, I may not be able to save you."
Wes swallowed and nodded. Only then was he allowed to pass.
The space inside was vast and echoed with every footstep. Most of the stuff inside was equally impressive, gleaming and high-tech, and scattered throughout were machines that were held together with wire or that were clearly spliced together from other things. But even the uglier machines had an air of crude efficiency. Every part was made for one purpose.
"This is all ghost stuff?" gasped Wes.
"Mostly. They do invent other things sometimes and Dad likes to make action figures. But, yeah, most of it is for studying and hunting ghosts."
Off to one side of the room was a large glass… box? Cell? Clearly some sort of containment.
Wes walked over to examine it. "Have you ever been inside this thing?"
"Hm? Yeah, both when they originally built it and later when me and my friends were testing it to see if I could get out, should I ever get caught," Danny said, clearly trying to get him to waste another question.
"Can you?"
"Yeah. Not as easily as I'd like, but then it would risk letting other things out, too. We regularly test things behind my parents' backs to see how problematic things are going to be for me. If something is an issue, we sabotage it one way or another. Like making something unable to lock onto Phantom's ecto-signature."
"Have you ever had to destroy something to protect yourself?" Wes asked, almost hesitantly.
Danny made a "so-so" gesture. "That's a little vague, but yes. They haven't yet managed to make something able to kill in one shot, though, if that's what you're asking. Generally, we also have to tweak or destroy the blueprints for problematic devices. Otherwise they'll just be rebuilt or, worse, become one of the patents they sell."
"They sell weapons?" Wes squeaked.
"No, just the plans for making them. The stuff the Guys In White had when they first rolled into town was all built off of FentonWorks designs. Now most of their stuff is developed on contracts," the other boy clarified with a wave of his hand.
"So...now you don't know what they're aiming at you," Wes said.
"Yup, which is why I run like hell when they show up. They're incompetent, but their weapons are more aggressive than what my parents make. They've almost gotten me a couple times," Danny admitted with a tiny wistful smile as he looked over the 'safer' weapons his parents had made.
Wes frowned. "Wait, 'gotten' as in captured, or injured?"
"You're out of questions."
Wes had been counting this time, and he knew he'd even gotten a freebie. Any questions answered now were optional, he supposed, but that didn't mean he wouldn't ask.
Danny relented. "But...they've injured me plenty of times."
Wes frowned. That wasn't a complete answer. All that did was shift the question to 'capture or kill.' Then again, that might be the same thing in the end. "Wouldn't you be safer if they knew you were human?"
Danny shook his head. "See, even you, up until just now, have been acting like I'm subhuman, that my rights don't matter. Now imagine that a government agency that is part of a massive cover-up to keep the rest of the country from knowing about ghosts managed to catch even a human with ghost powers; that person would vanish." Wes swallowed hard as Danny continued. "Your rights don't matter more than the government's agenda. And if you're not 100% human, you may as well forget that you ever had any rights in the first place," said Danny with the air of a long-thought-out argument.
Wes gaped like a fish. Some part of him wanted to argue on reflex, but he knew better. He knew the government had a vested interest in keeping things covered up. He just hadn't considered what any of that would mean to ghosts or hybrids.
"They'd load you up into a black van and that would be it, wouldn't it?" breathed Wes.
"White, but, yes," Danny replied matter-of-factly.
Wes rolled his eyes at the correction. "Why do you do this if it's so dangerous?" he demanded.
"Who else will?"
"Your parents-"
"-Will kill and injure and torment more ghosts than they'll send back to the Ghost Zone unharmed," Danny cut in.
Wes looked around. "I know what they say is scary, but they seem supportive of you otherwise. Won't they change their views if you tell them? They could help you way more then."
Danny sighed heavily and paced a moment, clearly trying to collect his words. "Okay, let's say that you're gay, okay? Just for this example. Your parents are very active members in a church that supports conversion therapy. How willing would you be to risk coming out to them, even knowing that they love you?"
Now that was definitely something Wes could understand. He knew what conversion therapy was, and how often kids came back from it broken...or not at all. One of the guys in his middle school basketball team had been 'cured.' He'd had to quit because he couldn't handle skirmishes over the ball anymore.
"I- I think I get it now," Wes admitted quietly.
"That's all I was hoping for," said Danny, sounding both relieved and tired at the same time.
"So, now what?"
Danny shrugged. "That's up to you. If you want to look at more gadgets, you can, or if you want to go home and think, that's okay too."
"I mean, what do I do now? I can't out you, knowing that it could get you killed or worse, but I can't just walk away now that I know how deep you are in all this."
"It's not your fight, Wes."
Wes rolled his eyes. "I know, but how can I pretend that this is okay? I don't want to fight ghosts, but I'm not just going to leave you to your fate."
Danny heaved a sigh. "All right. You're so good at stalking me. How about using those skills to make sure the Guys In White don't get me? And if they do, then help get me back."
"I- sure. I can do that. What about your parents?"
"Not much you can do about them. Jazz and I have been trying to get them to see that ghosts aren't all bad for a while, and some strange kid isn't going to be able to sway them any more than their own kids." There was an air of defeat there that Wes should not have been hearing, from Phantom of all people.
"What if I happened to have massive amounts of proof that Phantom does good things, and so do some of the other ghosts?"
Danny didn't look at him. "...Maybe."
It wasn't a no, and it wasn't a you're-wasting-your-time, so Wes was going to take it. He was going to take it and run with it. But first he needed to gather the proof that Phantom and Fenton weren't the same person, in case the GIW finally decided to look into his former assertions to the contrary. Wes needed his stuff out of the wall.
"One more thing. If you're going to keep stalking me, you may see some things…" Danny rubbed the back of his neck, struggling with what to admit to Wes. "I'm not talking about the trouble me and my friends get into. But, uh, I have a clone, and she's not around town much, but she falls under the same safety net I do, except the Red Huntress knows she's human too. Um, and there's one more…who I'm not going to tell you about, but, uh, if you want to live, maybe don't look too hard into that one."
Wes blinked. "So, wait, you're telling me that not only are there two more half-ghosts, but that somehow the Red Huntress hasn't made that leap of logic that your clone being half-ghost would mean that Phantom is too?" Wes hadn't missed the implication of a murderous half-ghost, but that wasn't the important thing right now.
"Nope," Danny said. "To be fair, she thinks Dani-with-an-I is Phantom's cousin."
"That's not any better!" Wes said. "How would anyone have that level of obliviousness to accept the existence of half-ghosts, but decide that there is no way you could be the same?!"
"'Cause then she would have to face how cruel she has been to a human? Or, worse, continue that train of thought and realize that she dated her enemy while actively trying to kill him?"
Wes frowned at the reminder that Danny had dated Valerie. That whole thing had been before Wes had really begun investigating Danny as Phantom. But the other boy's phrasing implied that Danny had known all this while dating her. "You're an idiot," Wes said.
Danny just shrugged, not denying it at all. Then his phone pinged with a notification. "Let's head upstairs and pretend to work on that project. My parents are on their way back."
"Aren't you worried about the Box Ghost?" asked Wes. It felt like a natural question after all the anti-ghost tech that he had seen.
"Naw, they've caught him a few times, but he always gets free before they can do anything."
"How?" Wes asked incredulously. "He's, like, the weakest ghost."
Danny gestured to the large containment cell. "Because they keep putting him in a box."