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For months he’s deliberated at the possibility of telling his parents the truth. A constant battle in his head, struggling at the possibilities of what would happen if he did spill the beans.
Except they know. And have known for a while, from the way things seem.
He sits at the dinner table, deliberating even more.
How do they know? How did they find out? He’s been careful — as far as he’s aware. Except the first few months after the accident he’s always tried to be as careful as possible when transforming to and from his ghost form.
One thing he does appreciate is that they haven’t demanded knowledge from him — simply going about as normal. He supposes they’re waiting for him to tell them. Even when he’s Phantom they still act pretty much the same, even being as convincing to point the ectogun and shout threats up at him.
Come on Fenton, no time for messing around. He shakes his head, pushing his chair from the kitchen table and going over to his backpack, already prepared for the weekend. A series of crashes and loud footsteps tell him his parents are still packing.
They’ll probably not even be packing their clothes or possessions — they’ll be seeing how many weapons they can stash on their person. It’s a shame that his parents still feel the need to bring the weapons around, especially since they’ve seen how much the weapons hurt him in ghost form.
Difficult habits to break. He supposes, lifting his backpack up and onto his back. Now he just has to wait.
He’s still jittery with nerves, even though his parents have reacted…underwhelmingingly to his secret. Danny considers that he might be the same in the way his parents can’t let their weapons go — he’ll always be nervous about his identity.
It wasn’t his idea to do this camping trip — that was Jazz’s idea. Suggesting that they get away from the chaos of Amity Park for a few days, where he can talk over with them and explain everything properly.
As soon as Jazz had suggested it, he knew exactly where to go. It just felt right .
The site where his corpse was buried. A large dense woodland of pine trees, layered thick with mist and sharp shadows that weren’t quite right. It was isolated and difficult to navigate — the perfect place for a body.
Despite being hard to locate, Danny could easily find his body within the forest. Every part of the forest was imprinted in his mind. The tiny creek he’d stumbled over, the thick roots of the wych elm he’d buried the corpse within, the heavy scrub pushing down his feet and making it difficult to run.
Danny grimaced at the memories of that night. Something he’d tried to bury at the back of his mind as best as possible. Somewhere that he was deliberately taking his parents to.
“Mom! Dad!” He calls out, a sudden impatience sparking through him like electricity. He wants this over with. The truth out and done.
Just a shame he has to go through the whole awkward conversation. No doubt it’ll be a difficult concept for his parents — that he’s half human and managed to leave a corpse behind.
“We’re here!” His mom responds, emerging from the lab with an ectogun strapped to her back and a suitcase in the other.
”Were you packing your suitcase in the lab?” He asks, incredulous.
”Of course not!” His mother laughs, walking towards the stairs, “The other ones in the bedroom. We have the GAV, so why not utilise all the space?”
”I suppose.” He shrugs. Any normal family would’ve put extra possessions— of course his parents would see the extra space as a way to stash more ghost weapons.
It didn’t worry him. Okay, maybe just a little. A lot.
But the camping trip had been Jazz’s idea, and Jazz’s ideas were never wrong. So by the logic of her sensibility, the camping trip couldn’t go wrong.
“I’ll get my other case and then we’ll be headed off! “ his mom says, a genuine sparkle in her eyes. “Isn’t this exciting? A trip with just the three of us. It’s been a while since we’ve done something as a family.”
He nods, guilt pitching at his heart. That’s his fault. Over the past year since the accident he thought it better to avoid his mom and dad, mainly for the weapons, but also at the risk that he’d blurt his secret out by accident.
Well, that isn’t the problem now. The cat’s out of the bag — the only issue now is stopping it from going haywire and clawing everything to tatters.
What feels like hours later, his mom rushes down the stairs, suitcase in one hand and another ectogun in addition to the one on her back. His dad follows behind her, eyes twinkling brightly.
“Think of all the ghosts we’ll catch, Mads!” His dad beams, gaze averting to Danny. “We’ll ever get to teach you some tricks of the trade, Danno!”
”Remember, it is a family trip.” His mom says as she opens the front door, glancing back at them both. “This trip is for quality time.”
”Who says hunting ghosts isn’t quality time?” His dad protests.
“Sounds great.” Danny grins through clenched teeth. He only hopes that he won’t end up the ghost that they’re hunting.
Why didn’t he ban them from bringing weapons? Then again, that would’ve brought more suspicion to his parents as to why he didn’t want them bringing weapons.
It’ll be fine.
What if it won’t be.
A tiny voice screams at the back of his head, but Danny ignores it, lugging his backpack over his shoulder and trailing behind his parents out of the door.
Time to get going.
The trip there is a hazy mixture of Danny falling asleep, a slip of road from out the window, his parents bad singing blaring from the front of the GAV. He’s about to drift off again, when his core suddenly clenches in discomfort. A warning.
Danny barely suppresses a yelp as the GAV takes a sharp veer right and down a pebbled track. The roughness of the road tells him that they’re getting near. Further and further from any civilisation, more isolated by the second.
“So, Danny?” His mom suddenly asks. She’s holding a map, twisting it various directions as if trying to locate their spot. “Why this destination? Any particular reason?”
Because I buried my corpse here and I’m gonna confess everything. He gulps back bile that rises in his throat and shrugs. “No–no reason, Mom. i just saw it on the map and thought it was a nice camping spot. Spooky woods, lake, all that stuff.”
“Well you picked well, son!” Jack turns his head to point at the map and the large blob of green which he assumes is the woodland. “Wormwood Forest. Isolated on all sides, the nearest town a good three miles away. If there’s going to be ghosts anywhere, it’ll be here!”
“Great.” Danny slumps down into his seat, giving his core a comforting pat from the discomfort emitting from it. Maybe it’s just the nerves, the isolation. He can’t tell.
“I think we should camp near here.” Maddie points to somewhere on the map, nearer the blue smudge of the lake. “It’s got the access road behind it so we can get the GAV through, plus it’s over the lake so we can keep lookout. And the main campsite’s just a little way down from the access road.”
“We’re not staying in the main camp?” He finds himself questioning. Sure, he’d rather not, with all the secrets he’s about to spill and the chance that someone might overhear. But still, it would be nice to be in the presence of other people.
Just incase he needed an escape. Just incase his parents drove him silly – he’d need someone else to talk to.
When he’d buried the body, Danny hadn’t considered the possibility of there being a campsite, although, realistically, there always would. The presence of it hadn’t phased him at the time – he was too prioritised with the fact he’d fucking died and had a corpse to bury. But as he calmed down from the initial events, he realised that maybe having his body so close to a campsite wasn’t such a great idea.
Thank whatever thing hadn’t let him get fully killed, that the trees were way too dense for even the most experienced of hikers to try and traipse through. His body was safely tucked under the wych elm, a shallow scattering of soil, unknown to anyone except him, Sam and Tucker. Well – Sam and Tucker knew about the corpse, they just didn’t know the exact whereabouts of where he’d taken his body when he’d flown off with it in terror.
"Well, we're not about to get any ghosts in a campsite full of people, are we?" his dad counters, sharply turning the GAV again as they drive on an even rougher road.
"I suppose." Danny grimaces. He wants to point out that Amity Park gets tons of ghosts, and that's a whole city of people, but doesn't.
"I think it's left." his mom says, pointing off somewhere in the distance. "Down a track of road and then we should be there."
Danny peers through the window, the inky canopy of trees looming in the distance. Wormwood Forest. That's where his body is. Under one of those trees is his corpse, withering, decaying.
His chest tightens. He can't breathe. The sour taste of ectoplasm fills his lungs, the burning on his flesh. His core whines and screeches in protest. His fingers claw at something -- something to grab onto but all he can feel is the cold squelch of flesh underneath his fingers, blood and viscera trailing down his arms-
"Danny! Danny!" Something jolts him, and his eyes flutter open, his mom's worried expression blinking back owlishly.
He looks down at his hands. No corpse. No forest floor. No ectoplasm. He's in the GAV. He's safe.
He's in the GAV, with only his parents and ghost weapons that could tear him apart.
“What’s wrong?” His mom’s voice is twinged with worry as she pushes back his fringe, brow furrowed.
“I—“ he begins, then shakes his head. This isn’t the place. He needs to be in the forest to tell them.
But at his mom’s worried face, he knows he can’t leave her with nothing.
“I’ve been here before.” Danny finally admits, not wanting to meet his parents gazes. He didn’t realise until now, but the GAV is stationary, pulled up on the side of the road, an army of trees cast out infront of them.
Surprise overcasts his mom’s features.
“You’ve been here before?” She questions, not elaborating. The unspoken ‘why’ lies heavy between them.
“Yeah.” He gnaws at his lip. “When I was here — a year ago — something happened.”
They deserve to have some context before he confesses, Danny muses. That something, he’s praying she can fill in the blanks on. Pleads that she’ll connect it to Phantom so he doesn’t have to do the agonising conversation.
But she doesn’t. She brushes his cheek instead.
“What was that something?” She inquires.
“I don’t…not now.” Danny shakes his head. He doesn’t miss the way his mom’s eyes flicker with…sadness?
He straightens and clears his throat. “Can we…go?”
“Of course!” His dad announces, seemingly forgotten the situation mere seconds ago. His mom scrambles back to the from of the GAV, still shooting him a concerned look over her shoulder.
The GAV speeds forward into the abyss of trees.
Danny doesn’t miss the way his core hitches as they enter the shroud of Wormwood Forest.
If Danny wasn’t absolutely terrified, he’d think the camping spot they’d picked was actually quite nice, a large clearing overlooking a dappled lake as the sun shone brightly. Of course, overshadowed by the fact his parents are pulling out what has to be their full inventory out of the GAV.
"How many did you bring?" he asks, subtly shifting away as his dad faces him, a large bazooka three times his size perched on his shoulder.
"As much as we could carry!" Jack grins, looking the happiest Danny's ever seen him. Hopefully today will just be spent unloading everything, not actually trailing through the forests in search of other spectres. He needs to check it out first.
"Can I go explore?" Danny gets up from the log and stretches, feeling bones crack in satisfaction. His mom gives him a thumbs up as she carries another box out of the GAV and places it on the soil.
"I think that would be a great idea, hon." she responds, "Maybe you can scout out the area for us and find us some potential ghost hotspots."
"Yeah, of course." He smiles, heading into the direction of the trees. As soon as he's sure he's out of eyesight, Danny drops the smile, eyes narrowing. He's definitely not scouting out for any ghosts - if he does he'll get them to back off. He's here to check out his burial site. At least now he has free reign to go about his own thing, not having to stare down the barrel of a gun designed to incapacitate him any longer.
Danny's trainers sink down into the bracken as he plods through the forest, retelling memories in his head of that night.
Better not think about that. He grimaces, and pushes forward through the trees. He ducks and dodges flying branches, cursing in the process.
Probably a good thing for all the underbrush. If it wasn't there, who knows who could've found his corpse by now?
What if it is? The thought horrifies him - an icy shock through his body. He hasn't been here in months, and Wormwood Forest is well out of reach of Amity Park -- so it's not as if he'd see it on the news.
But there's no sign of any crime tape or trees cleared or police cars. And to his relief, when he gets to the gravesite, the wych elm is still standing, the soil undisturbed.
Trembling, Danny's knees buckle and he presses a clammy hand to the soil, core thrumming with pain. This is where it is. This is where he brought his body a year ago. His body is here, lying just beneath his knees.
And soon his parents will know.
"I'm sorry." He spurts. "I'm sorry. It shouldn't be here." He's not too sure why he's apologising -- the pathetic excuse of a burial he gave his body? The fact that this is his final resting place? Dumped in a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere with not even a place-marker to signal what's beneath the soil.
The hours pass, and Danny doesn't realise it's been so long until the sky around him darkens.
"Crap!" he pulls himself up from the soil, a newfound determination to get back to the campsite. If his parents come searching and find him here - before he's ready to say -- it's over.
The heavy undergrowth barely supresses him as he tumbles through the forest with ease, back over the creek, the shiny glint of silver metal in the distance, the glow of firelight. Nearly there.
"Mom, Dad?" He calls, finding them hunched over a fire, marshmallows and sticks in hand.
"Danno!" his dad grins, passing him a stick and gesturing for him to sit on the log opposite them. "How's your adventuring been? Seen many sights out there? Ghosts?"
"You could say that." He musters a smile. Sure, he'd done lots of looking. Looking down at his grave for hours straight, mulling over what could've been and what will be. "So do you think we'll go out hunting tomorrow?"
"Well, I would've liked to get the family adventures first." his mom sighs, twirling her marshmallow on the fire. When Jack's sets alight, she passes the bag over. "But it'll have to wait."
"Best till last?" Danny remarks, tilting his head and reaching for the bag of marshmallows. His doesn't like seeing his mom this...despondent. Is she reflecting over the same thing he is? Wondering how to tell him that she knows his identity?
"Thanks, hon." she smiles, but her brow remains furrowed. "Danny-- you know when we were in the car, when you said something happened here, that you'd been here before? What was that?"
For a few minutes, he remains silent, pushing the marshmallow on the stick and hovering it over the fire. It begins to wrinkle and golden under the crackling fire. A remnant of soot where a flame catches it.
Danny plucks it off the stick and places it in his mouth, disgustingly sweet in comparison to the soured worry in the pit of his stomach. He finally meets his mom's gaze.
Even though they already know, this will be the last time he can play under pretence. The pretence that he's just a normal teen, a slacker with shitty grades and faded dreams of space.
So for this night, he just wants to sit under the stars and eat sickly marshmallows. He doesn't want to think of the body in the woods or the looming danger of being so isolated in the forest with his parents and an army of ghost weapons.
"Please." Danny gives his mom a desperate look. He grabs another marshmallow. "Tomorrow I'll tell you, I promise. But for tonight, I don't want to think about any of it. I want to forget it. Is that too hard to ask?"
Turns out it isn't too hard to ask, not until they're deep in the depths of the forest with ghost weapons strapped to their backs and Jack directing them, giving confused glances to the map in his hands.
"Jack, are you sure this is the right way?" his mom queries, glancing around the forest. She looks towards Danny, "I've no idea how you managed to go exploring in these woods yesterday. They're so dense -- I doubt even a ghost would want to live here."
The remnant of one has been here for the past year. Danny thinks, holding his tongue. He only gives her a reserved nod, glancing over to his dad, who turns the map around again.
"I think--" Jack frowns, putting a hand on the nape of his neck as he turns to face them, "I think I've gotten us a bit lost."
"I thought so..." Maddie trails off, "This forest is too dense for ghosts."
"I suppose we'll just have to continue on." Jack shrugs, a grin plastered to his face. "All the more for adventure!"
Both his parents continue on, and Danny remains, a flicker of recognition twinging his core at where they are. It's nearby his gravesite. If there was ever the opportunity, will there ever be a chance like this again?
He debates. He said he'd tell them today. Promised.
"Wait!" Danny shouts, holding an arm out. Both his parents freeze, turning back to look at him.
Their expectant eyes on him, Danny feels himself and any confidence wither away like his corpse.
"You know how I promised I'd tell you?" He doesn't dare say more than neccessary.
"You'd promised you'd tell us why you were acting strange." his mom nods, as if prompting him to go on.
He doesn't say anything, only beckoning them through the thicket in the direction of his gravesite. The rustling behind him indicates they’re following.
Danny inhales, feeling terror jolt up his spine. This is it. This is finally it.
Even though they already know — there’s worry scratched upon his parents faces.
Eventually they trail through the woods and to where the wych elm is. His nerves fizzle with worry. This is wrong. His parents shouldn’t be here. Only he should.
But they need an explanation.
”What is it, Danny?” His mom’s voice trembles, so uncharacteristically that for a split second he doubts if she actually knows he’s Phantom at all.
”You already know.” He pauses, closing his eyes. His core screams at him as he allows the transformation to happen — everything down to his bones telling him he shouldn’t do this.
There’s silence. Nothing.
”Phantom.” Jack hisses.
This is not good. This is very not good.
Danny peeks open an eye, to see the barrel of an ectogun staring right back.
They don’t know. They don’t know he’s Phantom. This whole time he’s been fretting — and they didn’t even know. And now? And now he’s jeopardised himself — secret identity, grave and all.
”What have you done with our son?!” Maddie snaps, her finger balanced precariously on the trigger. A gun at any moment that could destroy him.
Of fucking course. Of course he’d be that stupid to think that his parents knew. And to think that them still using their weapons — was them keeping up the act — when they were actually still threatening to shoot him.
By some miracle, even him blindsided by the insults, thank god he’d never gotten shot or captured.
”I-“ he begins, which makes them tense up — they’re afraid of him. “—I am Danny.”
With that, he detransforms, letting the rings wash over his form whilst remaining eye contact with his parents. White shades black, poisonous green switches to a gentle blue.
For just a split second he sees their expressions falter, his mom lowering the gun slightly. Just slightly.
Albeit slightly.
”See? I’m still me.”
His parents remain silent, but he sees a glimmer of something in his mom’s eyes. A glimmer of realisation.
“D—Danny?” She croaks, barely able to contain the horror etched in her tone. “When did you—how?”
”It was last year. I—the portal.” The admittance of his death makes bile rise in his throat. And it isn’t even the beginning, what, with his corpse.
His dad still hasn’t wavered.
“Jack.” His mom presses, gesturing to the gun. His dad glances at her, then back at Danny, back at her. They’re doing the silent communication thing they always do.
To Danny’s upmost relief, his dad puts the gun on the ground, holding his hands in surrender.
”How didn’t we see?” His dad utters, incredulous.
”I thought you had.” Danny ducks his head, hand resting on the back of his head. “That’s why I wanted to go on this camping trip, so I could explain everything.”
”Explain, then.” His mom responds, as if it’s the easiest thing ever.
”Uh—sure.” He responds, taken aback by the bluntness of her statement. Danny shuffles himself over to the wych elm, mere metres above where his body rests. His parents observe his every move.
”Your ghost portal didn’t work, so I decided to check it out myself. And I uh—ended up getting electrocuted by it. And then I became Phantom.”
”Brief, but I suppose the gaps can be filled later.” She shrugs.
And that, that he doesn’t know how to feel about. Here’s a weekend of nerves building up and finally reaching the breaking point — and all his mom can do is shrug?
A minsicule part of him says that she’s still dealing with this too, processing him being a ghost — but, fuck — he’s the one whose had this looming over his head for a full year, trying to bury memories of his corpse and his death all whilst being the main protector of Amity Park.
”All you can do is shrug.” Danny feels the rage burning, “Of course that’s all, isn’t it? I’ve dealt with this for a whole year — dying, trying to keep it a secret. Hell! I buried myself—!” He points furiously to the roots of the wych elm, “And then when I do finally explain — you tell me it’s not enough!”
”…buried?” In all his anger directed at his mom, he’d forgotten about his dad’s presence looming in the corner, eyes glued to the ground.
“You…you buried yourself.” Maddie trails off…face blanched.
”Well that’s what being a ghost entrails, so I’d say yes.” He scowls, folding his arms.
God, this is all a mess.
”I think—I think we should go back to camp.” His dad says, a reasonable idea amongst a torrent of anger and dismissal.
“No, Jack.” Maddie cuts him off, holding her arm out as if it’s a barrier to stop them.
“What?” Danny frowns. “Gonna shoot me with an ectogun?”
“Of course not!” She at least, has the decency to look horrified. “I’d never do that, Danny!”
“Didn’t stop you when I was a ghost though, did it?“ he folds his arms. “Don’t lie, you were close to it.”
“What else am I meant to think—when my own son turns into a ghost? Huh?” She suddenly retaliates. “I’m not going to think you’re Phantom! I’m going to think you’re possessed.”
That’s fair, he reasons. He can’t expect them to know any different than an overshadowing when very few people know half-ghosts exist.
“What about…that.” His dad points to the wych elm tree. “Your—your body?”
“Yes.” He swallows, looking at his feet.
“What do you want to do?” His mom asks.
“What do you mean?” He tilts his head.
“What do you want to do about it. It’s yours. ”
“You’re not gonna…dig it up? Move it? Experiment on it?”
“Of course not. Only if one of those things was what you wanted to do.” His mom takes a shaky step forward, face still pale with shock.
“I want to keep it here. I want to keep it here and forget that it ever exists and I never want to remember it.” Danny hesitates…”But it’s still a part of me, isn’t it? So I think I’d like to visit it, sometime.”
“Yes. I suppose—it—it is a part of you.” A tiny flicker of a smile on her face.
“Who says we go back to camp now?” His dad suggests in a small voice, but with a wide grin on his features. “I think even I’ve had enough of ghosts for now — and we’ve only seen one!”
“Well you better get used to it! I think I’m gonna be sticking around for a while.” Danny chuckles.
“Course you are!” His mom brushes back his fringe, an apologetic smile on her face, “I’m sorry about what I said — you must’ve worried yourself sick about telling us. I—I dismissed it completely. It’s still a shock, you being Phantom, but that’s no excuse.”
“Thanks, mom.” He gives her a small smile.
All he’s ever known this woodland to be is a source of terror and death and grief, which is appropriate, considering “wormwood” is meant to denote a strong sense of regret and bitterness. And this woodland sure carries a lot of that, the regrets of burying his body, the regrets of going into the portal, the regrets of being a half ghost, the regrets of telling his parents.
But things will be okay now. They’re not perfect — far from it — but it’s a start of something.