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The students of Casper High are no stranger to death. It lurked in every corner, Amity Park always being a bit of a hotspot for that kind of thing. Paranormality was simply normal here, bringing in tourists to look over at the cold spots in abandoned houses, hearing voices in burned-down bedrooms. Then, of course, the Fenton’s came along and a few years later they truly seeped in death, specters appeared and flew around as if the veil was a laughable concept.
So the news that one of their own was dead, should not have shocked them. No, it was more shocking because he was still walking among them even after the Reaper stole a part of him. Since the day he died he had tried to tell people, since the day he died people brushed it off.
But death is a joke, a walking comedy, and Danny Fenton had always been a comedian.
It started with little things, what changed about him. His grades slipped down creating an avalanche of failing letters, he slipped often enough to be banned from handling glass- yet was agile as a snowy seal. His humor went from muttered banter to morbidities that some found distasteful due to the fact that they handled horrors such as ghosts on the daily.
Weird orbited Danny Fenton like the planets to the stars; people began to take notice of his words.
Monologues, acidic blood, a little girl that looked his spitting image, and bones.
It was only the beginning.
People began to listen.
Science class was always interesting with the juniors. They had even gotten to play with ectoplasm a few times due to a new mandate by Mayor Maters.
Today in science class, Mr. Falluca brought up the subject of cloning. It was one of those things that were vaguely possible in the realm of science due to how far it progressed from where the United States used to be. It made some students think about the ‘would you fuck your clone’ debate that goes around every once in a while.
But it wasn’t a one-off thing, because Mr. Falluca called on Danny Fenton, expecting him to say something utterly out of pocket. He thought Danny wasn’t listening, he should have learned his lesson by now. Fenton somehow always hears when he’s called, and he somehow knows exactly what to say.
“Mr. Fenton, do you think cloning is a viable option for organ transplants?” Mr. Falluca says, the current topic was because of a news headline about cloning pig hearts for transplants. Of course, it would progress to human hearts, but at the moment this was a pinnacle of scientific excellence.
Danny looked up, blinking and chewing his lip before opening his mouth. He did not breathe deeply to steady himself, hell he barely breathed at all.
“It’s unethical.” That could have been the end of it, he paused as if waiting for everyone to hold their breaths. Every Fenton had a look in their eye before they started to lecture, and Danny got that look in his eyes when attention was turned to him. His classmates wait for the inevitable spew of words.
It had been a while since he spoke so much so loudly.
“Clones are made from the DNA of someone, and for the clone to be viable they have to be sentient. Completely perfect cloning is near impossible too, you’d have to add someone else’s DNA or risk having issues showing up like internal organs shutting down: if a scientist used another sample to mix to create a stable clone it could end up meaning the organs might not be transplantable in the anymore due to the changes. Also, the DNA would have to be compatible or the clone’s genes would rupture causing them to fall apart at the seams. That’s not even touching the fact that clones would come out as babies. They could be aged up but the process is complicated… finicky. You never know if they’ll wake up from aging stasis.”
Mr. Falluca looks like he’s going to pass out from the barrage of opinions saturated by something that tasted like facts coming from his student. Danny blinks, looking down at his nails. Always cut short. He never let anyone touch his hair, he took his belongings with him and never left anything behind.
“The other issue is that no one who has been cloned has given their consent for it anyway, which would help keep the clones stable as they’d need a steady and consistent piece of DNA from the original. The clone won’t come out having the same thoughts or feelings either. One could be trans and the other not be.”
The class stares at him as if he had grown a second head, his pencil taps against his table as if this current topic both disturbed and upset him, “There’s also the issue with unstable clones, because of morality. Imagine how horrible you’d feel knowing that people are dying. Sentient things would only be created to die or give up their bodies and mind to a purpose. That sucks.”
He shrugs now, but there is a haunted look in his eyes, “Wouldn’t it be scary to watch your own face melt in front of you? To see your own body giving out, caving in, and breaking because of unsafe science? Your own DNA crumbling and causing another living thing to feel unending anguish. It would be like watching yourself die in the worst way possible, and you can’t do anything about it.”
The class held their breaths, “Would you be able to shoulder the fact that you killed someone for your own gain? Cloning is out of the question.
It took the class aback to hear the seemingly stupid delinquent spout about clones, he usually reserved such fire for the stars. Not only did he hint that they were something that could happen, but also pulled philosophy into it.
Not only did he know too much about cloning, but he described facing death. His face was pale and his eyes far off as if remembering something.
It was unsettling.
“Uhm, we’ll. Thank you, Mr. Fenton. Sounds like you are interested in the topic.” Mr. Falluca said, turning the topic away. The class goes on, as usual, the time flying by. When the bell rings everyone leaves for their next class, excited, but none of them forget what they heard.
The rumor mill spits out stories, always eager to bite into something new and let the tears of those felled be the lifeblood of their malicious mockery.
Still, like everything else, knowledge and rumors and teenagers settle. This isn’t even the weirdest thing Fenton has done. Hell, it’s not even the weirdest thing for someone to be obsessed with; Wes Weston had a crush on Fenton and hid it by saying he was gathering evidence for Danny being Phantom. Fenton was still oblivious to the crush part.
So everything was fine and dandy, the dust settling… Until one day the door to the school burst open. Everyone turned to look at the loud noise, all cringing and ready to run at the slightest hint of a green glow or red eyes; instead of certain death though, the students see a little girl wearing a blue hoodie slightly too big for her, a red hat, and black jeans.
She has the same face as Fenton, her black hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and blue eyes searching through the crowd meticulously before making her way down the hallway in a speedwalk. The little Fenton lookalike had an aura about her as if she would shove anyone out of her way should they be an obstacle to her goal, so none of them wanted to try and see what would happen. It was like Moses and the red sea of teenagers.
She stops when she sees what she came there for, Danny Fenton himself.
“Danny I need help.”
The teen whipped around, spotting her, and his brows downturn into a stony serious expression. He closes his locker with a slam and walks over, grabbing the hand offered to him and using it to pick the girl up. As the two hustle down the hallway at incredible speeds, they can hear muttering between them, their conversation muted enough that no one got anything substantial other than, ‘new power,’ and ‘puddle.’
Danny turns to Sam and Tucker and gives a smile, “Catch you ghouls later, I’ll spill the beans later.”
The smaller Danny snorts.
While Fenton had ghost-hunting parents, everyone knew that he was not the person to go to with Ghost Advice ™. He made jokes about being dead, but whenever something slightly phantasmal happened he was gone in an instant. Some say that he was terrified, some say he’s smart, and Wes says it’s because he’s going to turn into Phantom to fight off the attacker. All of these could be true, but no one believed Wes.
Another thing was that whenever they asked him questions he was vague. Or he made jokes, always smiling when making light of darkness. (To be truthful, people got a little unsettled at these jokes sometimes. They seemed too close to home…)
So it was common knowledge that unless you wanted to talk about NASA’s newest achievements, you don’t engage with Fenton at all. Unless to make fun of him.
That said, nobody expected him to talk about ghostly stuff, let alone his parents' own machines.
It was just a joke, people wondering vaguely about something random. Paulina actually had the idea first, voicing it aloud with her ever-present curiosity. She may pretend to be a stupid bubbly girl, but Paulina was rather smart when it came down to it.
Twirling a strand of hair in her fingers she turned to her classmates, “I always wonder what ghost weapons feel like, you know? Does it hurt like a real weapon? The Fenton’s say that ghosts can’t feel pain but…”
The weapons the elder Fentons come up with are rather daunting. The ghost peeler that Jazz Fenton has on her is one of those devices that no one wanted an explanation of. Star had once heard the Loser Trio talk about how Maddie and Jack have medieval torture weapons they base some of their inventions off of.
The room was devoid of anyone but her, Dash, Kwan, Star, Gray, and Fenton. She and the other three A-listers had gotten in trouble for a gossip page gone wrong. Paulina was the one who started it but if one went down they all went down. That was the thing about growing up with threats to their lives: the popular kids’ learned loyalty, and when you earned that loyalty it didn't go away.
Gray and Fenton had gotten into trouble breaking into a classroom. For what reason, no one knew. Those two had gotten closer sometime around Sophomore year, something everyone expected even after their failed relationship.
Dash looks like this is the first he’s ever wondered about it, eyebrows scrunched in thought, “Can't hurt that much! Phantom does it all the time and he still powers through it like a boss.”
Then he blinks as if reconsidering what he just said, “Huh…”
“I mean with humans it’s just like getting pushed with slime. More of a pain in the ass than actual gunshots.” Star says, twirling her pencil in her hand. The swearing made everyone double-check to see if Mr. Lancer was still out of the classroom. At this point, they knew he didn’t really worry about them actually causing trouble. He’d known these kids for their whole high school career, and while they could be rowdy they’d all calmed down tremendously.
Valerie looks over to them and rolls her eyes, “All Fenton weapons are H Grade, so of course, it doesn’t feel bad to humans. They’re only meant to maim ghosts. Getting shot with a bigger gun though could break some bones.”
Fenton twitches at her words, but no one notices. H-Grade, meaning it was relatively safe to humans, was only a pretty label at most points. If a weapon was unstable, or one of the more violent weapons went off, or someone accidentally ingested Ecto, then it may cause real damage.
No one questions Valerie Gray, her quirkiness is something accepted. While the students of Casper High had grown, they had started to accept people as they were. Something that had been strange to hear. Valerie was a leader of a woman, strong, stubborn, and will cut a bitch. Gray had the strength to back up her words, a quality that many others didn’t have. People looked up to her when it came out that she had been fighting ghosts. (Not that anyone made the connection to Red Huntress yet, somehow people are perceptive yet blind. Or maybe they have and are letting her come to her own terms.)
“Getting shot by my parents' weapons feels like acid blood.”
The other five people in the room turned to look at Danny Fenton, whose head was laying in his arms on the table. His voice was clear and concise even if he was mushing his eyes closed to try and sleep. His words were disturbing, the connotation insidious as realization crept up into the features of the other teens in the room.
Instead of asking what they were thinking, Kwan asks something else, “What does that even mean?”
Danny shrugged, tapping the vein on his neck with his pointer finger absentmindedly- almost as if telling it to keep doing its job, “Ghosts are made of ectoplasm and getting shot by weapons powered by their own life force hurts. Hence acidic blood. It’s like getting stung by a hundred bees and then shot.”
No one spoke for a second, taking on the realization that he knew what it felt like. How did he find out?
What was the story- who was Ground Zero?
“How do you know that?” Dash asks finally. The two had always had a bit of a rough relationship, but when everything started going to hell in a handbasket, Dash lightened up on the guy. He still routinely made fun of him, but at some point, it became less of an actual distaste and more a careful truce. Dash trusted Fenton with his life, something that he could say for a lot of people, and somehow, despite how shitty Dash used to be, Fenton trusted him too.
Danny looked over and blinked for a few minutes, the million-dollar question sat in the air like a spirit. Looming and dark like a rain cloud threatening storm.
“Ectocontamination.” He finally settled on. No one believed him, the way his voice wavered slightly. Ever so slightly. Had they not all grown up together in the same school and town the slip may have gone unnoticed?
But they didn’t pry, because what are the other options? What can of worms would that interrogation open. No one was ready to face the maggots.
The topic lightly swerves, “Phantom is good at handling it. If it hurts so bad how does he do it?”
Why does he do it?
“Maybe he’s used to getting shot at in his house,” Fenton says, shrugging as if that is the most normal thing in the world.
The six people in the room are silent, and Danny hums softly. He’d always had a nice voice, Star once tried to trick him into joining the school musical.
“But what do I know?” He turned to Valerie, “Want to get a milkshake after this? Sam and Tuck should be there.”
Valerie nods, she had quit her job at the Nasty Burger to do full-time ghost hunting paid for by the town's funds. It had been decided at a meeting that ghost hunters would be compensated based on how well they hunt. The money was decent, better than a minimum wage customer service where she gets treated like garbage.
His eyes dropped again, signaling that he was done with the conversation. He looked so tired nowadays, so he needed it. In front of him was his finished homework, on the edge was splattered green stains.
While his breath evened out, the four A-listers looked concerned. It wasn’t the first time Fenton had said something concerning… Valerie just looks over with a kind of guilty pity in her eyes before going back to her essay.
The four popular kids stay quiet, still gossiping and turning to other forms of gossip. Mikey got a girlfriend from another school, who he FaceTimes regularly. Wes Weston was still deep in his weird crush on Fenton. Mr. Falluca got caught smoking weed in the parking lot, but he wasn’t fired because they couldn’t find a replacement.
Police sirens are surrounding the school. An active murder investigation was launched the night before, Sunday on a cool spring night. The call they got was frantic, on the other end there were two high school boys who had just dug up bones.
Questions flowed like a bloody river, why were they digging there in the first place, who told you to dig there, do you know this person's address…
“Do you think your classmate killed someone?”
Dash Baxter told the story through shaking hands, “No I don’t think he could kill anyone… I think that’s him.”
No one believed him, because ghosts are one thing- but a ghost who pretended to be alive for three years is impossible. They would have noticed right?
“My body is buried in the woods,” Danny said one day, completely randomly to his number one bully since junior high. He wasn’t quite the same bully anymore, as this song and dance was merely that…neither cared to stop and everyone knew it was for show. Dash Baxter stared at him, hand still grabbing a fistful of the other guy’s shirt while he processed the preposterous words spoken at that moment. He drops Fenton. Gently.
“Harhar Fenton, really funny.” Dash rolled his eyes, looking the other teen over. Perhaps today was one of those days where his filter got removed, those were always days that everyone let him alone. Jokes about being dead were his forte, but whenever they got this morbid they left him to his own devices.
The more upsetting the joke the more everyone worried about him, it was like a gauge on his mood that day. Somehow the whole grade had sort of aborted Fenton as a friend, in the weirdest way.
“I’m being serious.” Danny says with a completely serene face, “It’s under a nice flowering tree. Azalea I think. I buried it there myself, you know.”
Dash laughed nervously and patted Fenton’s head before backing off, “Alright Fenton. I get it I’ll leave you be today. You’re being fucking weird.”
Danny shrugs, turning to grab his books from his locker, “Just wanted to get it off my chest, I haven't even told Tucker or Sam. Bye.”
“Bye Fenton,” Dash said as the nerd walked off, holding his bag and disappearing around a corner to get to class. Against his better judgment, Dash felt a deep well of terror rush up his spine. He finds himself thinking about the exchange all day, not that he tries too hard to forget it. It’s hard to forget things like that.
Finally, he’s on the phone with Kwan when he needs to check and see if this joke was real. If this joke was real, the others were. He didn’t know if he could handle knowing his classmate has been dead, but at this point, Fenton is practically begging for someone to call him on his bluff. Or maybe to help him find peace.
Whatever the reason is for his curiosity, Dash stops in the middle of his sentence.
“Dude? Are you good?”
“Kwan, I’m going to sound crazy, but we need to go dig in the woods. Fenton told me something the other day and it’s been… stuck in my head.” He slips on his shoes while holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder.
Kwan makes a confused noise, “Is it about two days ago?”
“Yeah.”
The thing about Kwan and Dash’s friendship is that both of them would do anything for the other, even if they think whatever their buddy is about to do is stupid or unreasonable. They’re bonded for life, and if that means Kwan has to get out of bed and drive to Dash’s house so they can go on a little trip to appease his brain, then by god he’s getting out of bed and driving.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Dash sighs and smiles, “Thanks, dude.”
“Whatever, but I want a milkshake from Nastys.”
“Deal.”
They didn’t end up getting that milkshake. Kwan parks outside the forest in a hidden area to not get busted, and they both drag their shovels with them. There aren’t many trees that flower there.
But they do spot one that stands out.
“It’s glowing,” Kwan said, defensively holding the shovel as if someone would grab them out of thin air.
The tree was glowing, bright white and pink flowers shedding light on the world around them. It’s impossible, yet it’s flowering before all the other trees. The bark looks rotting yet healthy, stuck in between death and life.
Dash knows this is the tree.
“Well. Let’s get digging I guess?”
They set about it, digging for only thirty minutes before Kwan gets tired and takes a break to go piss. He hears a scream when he finishes up and immediately runs to his friend, only to look down and see what caused the distress.
Human bones.
A skull stares up at them.
Dash calls the police after throwing up. It is a long rest of the night.
That’s why the next day Danny Fenton was immediately detained by police. Everyone watched from the school windows, but Sam and Tucker were there. They didn’t say a word, only nodding to Danny as he waved before getting handcuffed and put in the back of a police car.
“How did you know where the body was?”
“I buried it myself.”
“Did you kill the person buried there?”
“In a way.” He said, looking at the police interrogating him and humming, “It’s half of me.”
The dental records are what shocked the crew, matching the exact records of Danny Fenton. The bones’ weight was half of what a normal teenager’s bones should be. It seemed the bones seeped in Ectoplasm, which was almost impossible. Any trace of ectoplasm should have dissipated after three years, but it still sat like a puddle of irradiated waste soaking the tree and causing it to be both alive and dead at the same time. Had they the technology they would have seen that the ectoplasm matched Danny Fenton’s blood exactly.
“So you’re letting me free yeah?” Danny asked, tapping his feet and shooting a cheeky grin, “Sorry I’ve been trying to get people to figure it out for years you know? It’s kinda sad to have no one mourn you, even if you’re only half dead.”
The officer grimaced, “I bet, are you sure you weren’t murdered? I know you said you buried yourself, but it’s okay to tell us if someone hurt you.”
Danny frowned, “No, I think ghosts who obsess over revenge or justice are kind of boring anyway. I just want to help people, and I like living even if it’s only by half.”
The officer’s nametag read Reese Heartthrow, “‘If you’re sure. You think there’s anyone who had a cold case who wants to come forward though?”
“Maybe a few.” He hummed, floating up out of his seat, “I think it’s really funny you haven’t even asked what I look like as a ghost.”
“I figured you looked the same. Ya know? Do you like, contort your face? Do you have horns or a tail?” She asked, purely for curiosity’s sake.
The half-ghost grinned, “That’s for you to find out.”
Officer Heartthrow chuckled, “Alright them ghost-kid, you’re free to go. If the GIW says anything you can come to me alright?”
Danny nods, “I appreciate it. But I don’t think they’ll be getting near me any time soon.”
The Fenton household doubled down on security, lobbying for their son to stay with them because he is still half-alive. Even if he wasn’t they would still care for him. They weren’t the best parents, but by God, they won’t ever let anything happen to their kids. He salutes the officer and floats out.
In the end, he felt free, flying through the air. For once he was completely accepted as he floated and haunted the halls.