Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

" There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full." - Henry Kissinger

This year is going to be different. No more cutting class, no more being late, no more grades below a B-minus. I am going to study hard, pay attention in class, and not let ghost attacks get in my way.

I've been working my ass off, trying to perfect my Duplication power. When I duplicate myself, I mentally give my copy a set task to perform. Usually, it's something simple like "attack" or "defend" or "get me a soda because the Box Ghost just had a massive temper tantrum and I need to be lazy for a minute." But, that's not going to cut it anymore. I've seen Vlad Plasmius's own copies at work. I've seen at least one actually think for itself , at least to an extent, so I know it's possible. If I'm going to be a better student and still keep the peace, I need my duplicates to act on their own, to think on their own. I've battled my own copies to practice, and they seem to be progressing pretty well. Granted, they don't do anything too complex or shout out any puns or even speak , but they can fight well enough to get me through the school day.

But, since it's only the first day, I'm hoping I won't have to test them any time soon.

"Ah, junior year," Tucker says with a grin as we meet up in the courtyard.

He has recently upgraded his style from "classic techno-geek" to "cultured techno-geek" (his words, not mine). Personally, I think he looks like a hipster, but to each their own. Today, he sports a mint-green button-up tee, khaki pants, and brown sneakers, plus his signature red beret.

Sam, for her part, is as gothic as ever, though she has been experimenting with color lately. Well, dark purples and reds, but it still counts. She wears a dark purple t-shirt with black lace trim on the sleeves and neckline, black skinny jeans, the usual combat boots, and a black pentagram necklace. She's been growing out her dyed-black hair, and it now hangs just past her shoulders. No makeup aside from lipstick that matches her shirt.

As for me, I've stuck with my "boy next door" look, as Sam calls it. I'm wearing a soft red t-shirt with a large white stripe across my stomach over a white long-sleeved shirt, dark blue jeans, and white sneakers. The sneakers are brand new, and we'll see how long they stay white.

Tucker puts his hands on his hips. "My friends, we are officially upperclassmen."

"And, more importantly," Sam adds with a smirk, "we are officially out of any of Mr. Lancer's classes."

I laugh. "Come on, Sam. Lancer isn't that bad."

As if trying to prove me wrong, we hear Mr. Lancer talking to some students nearby. Although, considering that he's reading from his old copy of How 2B Hip , I don't think "talking" is the right word. "'Sup…peeps. Welcome to this…rocking…pad of…edutainment." Little does he know that everyone left after "'Sup, peeps."

I laugh again. "Okay. He's pretty bad."

As my friends and I walk into the Casper High building, we compare our schedules. Sadly, it looks like this year we only have the same lunch period, which is shared by everyone in our grade level.

"Ah, you're so lucky, Danny!" Tucker whines as he peeks at my schedule. "You've got Ms. Mae for homeroom and last period. You get to start and end the day with her. I only have her for second period."

Sam checks her own schedule. "I've got her for third. What's the big deal about Ms. Mae?"

"Yeah, you know her, Tucker?" I ask.

Tucker stops us in our path. "You haven't heard? She's a new teacher this year." He gives us a sly grin. "And, I hear she's H-O-T, hot !" He punctuates this statement with finger guns.

That's why he's so excited, I think in amusement.

Sam rolls her eyes. "Tucker, you think anything with boobs is hot."

"Hey," Tucker snaps. "I don't think you're hot, do I?"

Sam narrows her eyes, and Tucker realizes what he just said.

"Well, if you're still alive later," I say with a meaningful look at the cowering black kid next to me, "I will see both of you at lunch." I know how to pick my battles.

I find my new locker, put some stuff away, grab other stuff, yadda yadda, and make my way to homeroom. On my way there, a sharp breath escapes me, releasing a faint blue wisp that shoots a wave of dread through my stomach.

My Ghost Sense. On the first. Day. Of school. Why ?

Don't panic, Danny. This is why you've been practicing Duplication. You've got this. Er, your copy's got this. But, you're the one making the copy, so- Whatever.

"You okay?" a woman's voice says, jolting me back to the here and now. "You look a little freaked."

The woman who approached me is about an inch or two taller than me. Her black hair hangs above her shoulders, the tight curls appearing to go wherever they please, though it looks intentionally messy and not like she just rolled out of bed. Her reddish-brown eyes are slanted enough that she might have some kind of Asian genetics. She wears a lime green pantsuit that should look ridiculous but compliments her skin tone, which is darker than Tucker's. I wonder if this is Ms. Mae. If so, she certainly is easy on the eyes.

"Kid, you alright?" the woman asks, concerned.

I realize that I'm staring at her and clear my throat, praying that my embarrassment doesn't show. "Um, yeah, sorry. Just, uh, first day jitters, you know?" Jitters brought on by potential ghost problems when the school year hasn't even technically started yet .

The woman buys my excuse. "Yeah, I feel you. Try being the new teacher. I'll be eaten alive," she adds with a grin.

I chuckle. "So, you must be Ms. Mae, then. I'm in your homeroom." My good humor dies when my Ghost Sense goes off again.

Luckily, Ms. Mae doesn't notice. She waves me into the classroom beside her. "Come on in, then."

I follow her into the classroom. Usually, teachers will decorate their rooms with pictures and trinkets that coincide with whatever they teach or just their own personal interests. Ms. Mae's room lacks any decor. Since she's new, maybe she just hasn't gotten around to decorating yet.

I tune out the chatter of the other students and take a seat, on high alert for any signs of paranormal activity that isn't my own. Nothing unusual so far. Nothing obvious like screams in the hallway. Nothing subtle like an atmospheric shift that only another ghost would feel.

"Hey, Fen-tit!"

Because the mystery ghost wasn't bad enough, right?

Dash Baxter - school bully, football player, and one of the many banes of my existence - towers over my desk, all bajillion pounds of muscle and, like, seven feet of height, now? There's a rumor that he repeated freshman year twice. I wouldn't be surprised if that turned out to be fact.

"Uh, hi, Dash," I say with a weak wave because what else am I supposed to do without revealing my secret identity? I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to shoot this guy with a ghost ray.

Not that I've never…found less conspicuous ways to get back at him.

Dash braces his hands on my desk and leans in close enough that I swallow a comment about breath mints. "Looks like we've got homeroom together," he says with a sinister grin. "Maybe this year will be more fun than I thought."

Oh, joy.

Dash is the star quarterback and has parents with money and connections, so teachers don't do much if anything to him. He's also huge and stupid, a dangerous combination, so my peers are too terrified of him to step in.

And then, there's me, Danny Fenton. Shy, quiet, has crazy ghost-obsessed parents and a super smart sister he can never hope to compete with. Nobody ever cares about losers like me. Dash has other punching bags in this school, but I'm his favorite by a long shot. I don't know what I did to deserve that status, but there it is.

And yet, the guy practically idolizes my ghostly alter-ego. Irony truly is a fickle being.

What's even more ironic is that helping others is my Obsession, yet only three people have ever stuck up for me. Not that they had much success, but A for effort, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker.

Someone loudly clears their throat. "What's going on over there?"

Ms. Mae is sitting at her desk, elbows perched on top, hands folded, chin resting on those hands. Her expression is blank, almost bored, but her tone carries the slightest threat. She may be a new teacher in this school, but I can already tell this isn't her first rodeo.

"Big guy, blond hair," she says. "What's your name?"

Dash sends me a quick smirk before facing our teacher. "Dash Baxter."

Ms. Mae hums in acknowledgement, unimpressed. "Well, Dash, I hope for your sake that what I just heard wasn't as threatening as it sounded."

Ghost Sense again. Whoever it is must be close. Please let it be something simple like an ecto-pus.

Dash is momentarily thrown off, accustomed to teachers ignoring his bullying ways. Then, he chuckles. "That's right. You're the new teacher. You must not have heard yet. I play football." Ms. Mae doesn't react. "Quarterback." Still nothing. "Football is a sport where you-"

"I know what football is," Ms. Mae says curtly. She leans forward in her seat. "Dash Baxter, I don't care if you play football. I don't care if you invented the sport itself. When you are in my classroom, the only thing that you are is my student. And, you will treat your fellow students with respect."

Whoa.

The room is silent. The room is silent because a teacher is telling off Dash Baxter. The room is silent because I think he's listening to her.

I can't even enjoy it because my Ghost Sense just went off again.

But, Ms. Mae isn't done yet. "Now, apologize to…" She twirls her hand toward me.

"Uh, D-Danny," I stammer.

Ms. Mae refolds her hands and says with that same clipped but polite teacher voice, "Apologize to Danny and, in the wise words of Junie B. Jones, mind your own personal beeswax."

Dash half-glances at me, irritation radiating off of him as he mumbles what sounds like an apology.

And just like that, I've found my new favorite teacher.

Word about what happened in homeroom spreads like wildfire. It's not every day that Dash Baxter gets a dressing down from a teacher, and the fact that the teacher is new only adds to the drama. One minute, no one knew who she was beyond being a new member of the faculty. Now, she has a reputation for not taking crap from anyone. Hopefully, my Duplication strategy works out so that she doesn't have to not take crap from me.

Speaking of which…

At lunch time, my friends and I are seated at one of the tables outside. After they finish grilling me about Dash, we lower our voices as I inform them of how often my Ghost Sense has been going off today.

"Have you guys noticed anything odd?" I ask.

"Beyond the usual high school weirdness, no," Sam says, spearing one of the cherry tomatoes in her salad. "Tucker?"

Tucker swallows a mouthful of hamburger. "Not a thing. Maybe the ghost was just passing through?"

"I hope so," I say. "Just because I've been working on Duplication, doesn't mean I want to test it today. The last thing I need is for something to go wrong and make me look like an idiot on the first day of school."

Suddenly, my friends have horrified looks on their faces as they stare at something behind me. "Uh, that just got a whole lot harder," Sam says.

Since my Ghost Sense hasn't gone off since homeroom, my first thought is that Dash has decided to take out his humiliation on me. Then…

"Attention, students of Casper High!"

End me.

I whirl around in my seat. My jumpsuit-clad parents are here. Dad is holding the Booo-merang, and Mom is speaking into a megaphone. Both of their belts are covered in equipment.

"Pay us no mind," Mom continues through her freaking megaphone . "There has been a spike in ghostly activity at this school, and we merely seek to dispose of whatever deranged entity has decided to manifest in this facility of education."

"What she said!" Dad pipes up. "Whatever she said."

Mom lowers her megaphone and clarifies to him, "I mean, we're gonna get rid of the ghost."

"What she said!" Dad repeats.

Seriously, end me .

I turn back around and scrunch up in my seat. "If I don't acknowledge them," I whisper, "maybe they won't notice me."

Alas… "Hi, sweetheart!" comes the sugary, megaphone-y voice behind me. My face heats up, and my friends cringe in secondhand embarrassment. "How's your first day going?"

"Hey, Danno! Danno!" Aaaannd, Dad has the megaphone. "My main man-no, Danno! Over there! That kid with the dark hair and the red shirt who looks like he wants to be somewhere else. That's our son! How you doing, son?"

I slam my forehead into the table as students snigger around me.

"So much for not looking like an idiot," Tucker says unhelpfully.

A puff of cold blue air falls into my lap. I raise my head. "Though, my parents aren't wrong about the ghost."

I scan the courtyard. Nothing seems out of place - apart from, you know, the obvious - but Principal Ishiyama rushes out of the school building and pushes past Ms. Mae, who carries a tray of food and looks confused. Ishiyama storms up to my parents and plants her fists on her hips.

"What is the meaning of this?" She demands.

Mom holds up her hands placatingly. "We're not here to cause trouble. Our sensors indicated an increase in ecto-energy at this school-"

"I don't care about your sensors, Fentons," Ishiyama states. "You cannot just waltz on to the property and cause a disturbance."

"With all due respect," Mom says, "we're trying to prevent a disturbance."

Dad holds up the Booo-merang. "And, once our trusty Booo-merang is thrown, it'll show us exactly where the ghost is."

Ishiyama tries to stop him from throwing it, but it's too late. Dad throws it in a random direction, and I close my eyes, bracing for impact.

But, the resulting "Ouch!" doesn't come from me.

It comes from Ms. Mae, who didn't even reach the table before getting beamed in the noggin. Her tray of food is spilled out on the grass, though her clothes are miraculously untouched. She rubs the offending spot on the side of her head. Then, she picks up the Booo-merang and marches up to my father. He and Mom regard her with suspicion as she angrily shoves the device back into Dad's large hands.

"You don't think…" Sam says as this all goes down.

"Come to think of it," I muse, "my Ghost Sense was going crazy in her classroom. And, only in her classroom." So much for my favorite teacher.

"Ms. Mae?" Tucker says. "But, she's hot!" Sam and I glare at him, and he backtracks. "I mean, she seems so nice."

The principal's stern voice brings us back to the embarrassing scene before us. "And now, you've assaulted a member of the faculty. You know, Ms. Mae, you could press charges, because I'm considering doing that myself."

As if things couldn't get any worse.

My parents look as panicked as I feel until Ms. Mae holds up her hands. "Now, now. It's the first day of school. The students have suffered enough and, honestly, I'd rather not make waves when I'm as new as the freshmen. So, how about we just put all this ghost nonsense behind us?"

Mom, Dad, and Ishiyama get blank looks on her face for barely a moment before hesitantly agreeing.

Yeah, I bet Ms. Mae does want to put all this ghost nonsense behind us.

"Wow," Tucker says, impressed. "First Dash, now this. Ms. Mae sure knows how to work people."

"Maybe a little too well," I say.

On their way out, Dad waves at me as Mom lifts up her megaphone and calls out, "See you at home, Danny! We love you!" As soon as they're gone, my peers bust up laughing.

I share a homeroom with Dash, one of my teachers might be a ghost with manipulation powers, my parents are on the prowl, and now I've been utterly humiliated. What a great start to the school year.

"Is it me," Tucker says slowly, "or have your parents been extra nice to you lately?"

Sam crosses her arms. "If you can call this nice ."

I sigh, remembering that I never told these guys the full extent of my trip to Nebraska. After helping a girl named Mira Scott, who had been a ghost for less than a day at that point, find her way home, her parents were endlessly grateful. Through a series of events involving heartache and butt-kicking, I'd made the executive decision to reveal my half-ghost status to them. The whole family was more than willing to keep my secret.

That's the part that Sam and Tucker know about.

What they don't know is that the subject of my own parents being dedicated (read: obsessive) ghost hunters came up. I overheard (read: eavesdropped on) Mira's parents talking about how worried they were about my safety. They even discussed asking me to move in with them . This happened a week ago, and I still can't wrap my head around it. They decided against the idea but only because they didn't want to "uproot my life," as Mira's father put it.

The morning after I came home, I asked my parents, very hypothetically, how they would react if someone they knew became a ghost. They assumed I was talking about Mira, who they thought was a friend who died right in front of me in a hospital, and I rolled with it. In a nutshell, they informed me in the nicest way possible that people lose their humanity when they die. According to Mom and Dad, ghosts become angry and vengeful, even if they still retain sentience. They basically said that they would destroy a ghost no matter what without directly saying it. Long story short, I stormed out of the kitchen in tears. Mom and Dad know they made me cry, even if they don't know the full extent of why, and they've been trying to make up for it ever since.

Jazz knows all this because she was there when my composure broke, both that morning and the night before. I haven't told Sam and Tucker because I don't want them to worry over something that doesn't apply to them.

"They just said something about ghosts that got under my skin," I summarize. "It's nothing important." When my friends don't look convinced, I add, "Really, they're making a bigger deal out of it than it is."

It hits me that I've gotten so good at lying to my family that lying to my best friends comes naturally. I don't like it.

The rest of the day goes by without incident. Unless you count the occasional jeers from other students, particularly Dash, but I was expecting that after the display at lunch.

Eighth period comes and goes without my Ghost Sense activating. I'm trying to decide if it's because I already suspect Ms. Mae of being a ghost or if she really is human and the actual ghost isn't here anymore. I'm rooting for the latter.

When the final bell rings, everyone in my history class gathers their things and heads out the door. I try to do the same, but Ms. Mae calls me up to her desk. I keep my guard up as I approach her.

She folds her hands over her paperwork and regards me sympathetically. "You doing okay, Danny? That was quite an event at lunch."

Nothing about her comes off as threatening. She even seems like she genuinely cares. Then again, Penelope Spectra was the same way when she posed as a guidance counselor in my freshman year. I hear a sophomore committed suicide after a session with her. Coincidence? I think not.

"I'm fine," I say. "Embarrassed as all heck, but nothing I can't handle."

Ms. Mae accepts my response. Then, she leans forward with a conspiratorial grin. "You know, I hear from some of your old teachers that you have a bit of a reputation."

"Oh? What do you mean?" I ask, playing dumb, though this isn't the first time today a teacher has mentioned it.

Ms. Mae straightens. "Coming in late, cutting class, not doing your homework, and the like."

Even though I've heard a few variations of this already, it still burns me. I give her the same response I gave the others. "That was the old me. I promised myself and my family that I would turn over a new leaf. And, I don't break my promises. Ever."

Ms. Mae nods, satisfied. "I'll hold you to that. One more thing," she says when I turn toward the door. Her tone is more gentle now. "I've also heard that you're a very sweet young man who's always eager to lend a hand. True?"

Huh. No one's brought up anything positive yet. "True," I confirm, wondering where this is going.

"In my experience, nice kids who misbehave in school have a reason for doing so."

That's a little too close to home. "How do you know I'm not just a bad student?"

Ms. Mae shrugs. "Suppose I don't. But, Danny, if there is something wrong, I want you to know that you can talk to me about it. You're my student, and as your teacher, I want to see you succeed. Don't hesitate to come to me if something's wrong, okay?"

My head feels foggy for a moment, and there's a tickle at the base of my skull. I scratch it, but it doesn't go away. "Uh, yeah, sure."

As I walk out the door, I can't help wondering why I agreed so easily…and if a certain someone is the reason for it.

Chapter Text

" I wouldn't exactly have chosen madness if there had been a choice." - Vincent Van Gogh

This year isn't any different.

When I duplicate myself, I can sense what's going on around my copies. I can also sense when they vanish. The first time I tried to send out a copy to fight in my place, Skulker annihilated the thing and flew around town, looking for the real me. Okay, I thought. I'll sneak out of school and deal with him myself. It'll be a one-time thing and I'll train my copies a little more and everything will be fine.

Except that nothing is fine. Every time I make my copy fight for me, it gets destroyed and I have to leave school to deal with the problem myself. One time, I tried sending out three copies at once, the maximum amount I can make at a time, thinking that safety in numbers was the answer. When I blacked out during English class and woke up in the nurse's office, I decided not to try that again. Another time, I tried to ignore the rampaging blob ghost outside, but the harsh thrumming of my core was more of a distraction than the ghost itself.

We're only a month into the school year. Will things slow down soon, or will they get worse from here?

I promised to be a better student. I never break my promises, yet here we are.

I really thought the Duplication tactic would work.

"Danny."

What am I doing wrong?

"Danny."

It's not like I can go to Vlad for help. The old fruit loop would just gloat about how I came to him for aid and throw in some rude remark about my dad and-

" Danny ."

Mom's stern voice brings me back to the here and now. The "here" is our living room, where I am slumped forward on the couch while my parents stand before me. The "now" is my folks scolding me for cutting class and being late and my barely maintained C average.

"Danny, are you listening to me?" Mom asks.

I lower my head, shame wafting over me. I've disappointed them again , but not half as much as I've disappointed myself.

Mom sighs. "Danny, you promised you would stop cutting class and everything. And yet, how many calls have we gotten from your school?"

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. I don't know if I'm apologizing to them or me.

"'Sorry' doesn't get your grades up," Dad scolds. "You're a Fenton. We get solid B-minuses. No less."

"And, we arrive at school on time and stay there the whole day." I picture Mom giving Dad a side-eye.

"Yeah, that too," Dad agrees.

I still can't look at them.

Suddenly, they sit on either side of me. Changing tactics? As long as there are bad guys to fight and a town to protect and copies that don't work the way I want them to, nothing my parents try is going to help me.

"Sweetheart," Mom says gently, "what is your goal? You want to be an astronaut, don't you?"

All I can do is nod.

"Well, you'll need a lot of education to get into NASA."

"Your mother's right, son," Dad says. "Imagine if Lance Armstrong didn't go to school. He would never have been the first man on the moon."

" Neil Armstrong," I correct automatically.

"Right. That guy," Dad says. "You need to do well in school if you want to be like him. Play your cards right, and maybe you'll be the first man on Mars! You could be shaking hands with Martians! Wouldn't that be something?"

I can't help but smile at the thought.

Mom rests her hand on my knee and squeezes. "Exactly. Now, let's see you turn things around so that you can one day shake hands with Martians."

"Okay," I say because what else can I say?

They let me go up to my room so I can do my homework. I don't let them see that every footstep is a chore. Mom and Dad thought that bringing up my dream of exploring the galaxy would motivate me. Instead, it only hammered home the idea that such a thing will never, ever happen. Not just because of my grades, but because I'm a ghost with an Obsession with helping people. If a ghost goes too long without satisfying their Obsession, they'll go to extreme lengths to soothe their core. It's like an addict desperate for a hit. Even if I do become an astronaut, even if I do get to take off in a rocket, my ghost-half would become manic eventually, and who knows what would happen? Even if I just went ghost and flew into space myself, I would have to come back to Earth at some point because who would I help in space?

My dream died with me. I've known that for a while, but it never really sunk in until now.

I walk into my room, close the door behind me, and look around. NASA posters, pictures of constellations, and a map of the solar system decorate my walls. On my nightstand sits a small model of Saturn - my favorite planet because of the rings, no relation to my ghostly transformation - and a tiny nondescript astronaut giving a salute beside it. There are glow-in-the-dark star stickers all over my ceiling. I remember Dad lifting me up so I could stick them there myself when I was six years old.

Space stuff everywhere. I don't want to look at it, to be reminded of what could have been.

With tears in my eyes, I grab the nearest poster and tear it off the wall. I do the same with another and another, going around the room. As I remove the offending decor, a selfish part of me wishes that Jazz was here. My sister always knows how to make me feel better. But, she's having a study session with her friends and won't be back until tonight. She's in college at Amity University, right here in town, so she's close enough that she still lives with me and our parents. With her grades, she could go to any school she wants, yet she chose to stay here. She claims that she picked Amity because she wouldn't have to pay for a dorm and it's a good school anyway.

I think she wants to stay home so she can keep looking out for me. I don't have the guts to ask her about it, but I feel like she's making sacrifices for me.

She's always making sacrifices for me.

Ecto-energy forms in my hands, burning up the crumpled posters I'd been holding. I continue my path until all the posters are torn off and burned to ashes. In the back of my mind, I know I'll regret doing this later, but right now it feels good. I turn to grab my astronaut figure-

-and jump back when I catch a glimpse of myself in my full-length mirror. I drop the figurine and run up to the mirror. I look closely at my face, specifically at my eyes, which are the soft blue they've always been. It must have been a trick of the light or my own depressed mindset or a combination of the two.

There is no way my eyes had actually turned black .

The next day at school, I try to put on a brave face, but my friends see right through it and ambush me at my locker.

"You okay, dude?" Tucker asks me as I pull out my math book for third period.

"Yes," I say on instinct. Then, my Ghost Sense goes off. "No," I groan.

The three of us scan the area and listen for the usual chaos that follows a ghost attack. When nothing happens, I close my locker and pray that nothing will keep happening.

Sam returns to the matter at hand. "So, I guess …that tactic still isn't working for you, huh?"

"Nope," I say. "I got the usual lecture from my parents last night. I can't stop thinking about it. I-I really thought this year would be different." I have to stop because my throat is getting tight. My mind is full of disappointed tones and destroyed memorabilia, of the raw sadness I'd felt when I saw how bare my room looked, of the shock then worry on Jazz's face when she saw it and I refused to tell her where all my space stuff went.

Sam puts a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "We'll find something that works, Danny."

Ghost Sense again. Still nothing out of the ordinary, but we do spot Ms. Mae entering her classroom in a hurry.

"That reminds me," Tucker says. "Any word on whether…you-know-who is a you-know-what?"

"Still inconclusive," I say, grateful for the change in subject. "And, you guys still haven't noticed anything?"

"Not really. She seems pretty cool." Sam purses her lips. "Well, cool for a teacher."

Tucker shrugs. "She just seems like a garden-variety nice teacher. Albeit, one with a spine."

"Yeah, she does," I say thoughtfully. Maybe we're wrong, and she's perfectly human. Or, she is a ghost but just wants to teach here for some reason. Or, she's a ghost with an elaborate plan. Can't rule that out.

We put a pause on our discussion so we aren't late for class. The rest of the day is blissfully uneventful. Then, when the final bell rings, Ms. Mae stops me as I'm walking out. I haven't done anything to warrant detention today and I actually got the homework done, so what's the deal? Once it's just us, Ms. Mae tells me to close the door, which is even weirder. I do so despite my reservations and approach her.

She folds her hands on her desk with a concerned frown. "Danny, are you okay?"

Whatever I was expecting, that wasn't it. "Uh, excuse me?"

She shrugs. "You just…don't seem very okay."

I remember how my Ghost Sense went off twice earlier and how she seemed to rush into her classroom. Had she been listening? How much did she hear? My friends and I are very careful about what we say in public, but that doesn't mean she couldn't have put two and two together. Does she suspect something? Or, is she a human being and I'm just really paranoid?

When I don't answer, Ms. Mae says kindly, "Let me remind you that you are my student. And, because you are my student, I care about more than just your education."

"Do you, now?" I say.

I must have sounded more bitter than I meant to, because Ms. Mae frowns deeper. "Of course. Teachers look out for their students, Danny. Is that so weird?"

I flashback to a surprisingly pleasant study session with Mr. Lancer in my freshman year and smile. "I guess not."

Ms. Mae relaxes at my answer. "Do you have time, or do you need to catch the bus?"

"I usually walk home." Walk, fly. Potato, potahto.

"In that case, spare me a moment. Obviously, something is wrong. I've been teaching long enough to know the difference between a bad student and a cry for help."

"I'm not crying for help."

"You know what I mean. On the first day of school, you said you'd be a good student, and you seem to be breaking that promise quite a bit. Danny Fenton, let me remind you that you can talk to me. Even if you don't think I can help you."

My brain goes numb, and the back of my head itches. The feeling is familiar. "It's, uh…complicated."

"I don't doubt it." Ms. Mae looks away thoughtfully then seems to come to some decision. "You know, when I was younger, something happened that wasn't my fault, yet I was punished harshly because of it. That's why I try to hear out my students before I jump to any conclusions."

I wonder what happened. I also wonder if "I was punished harshly" is code for "someone killed me." The itch intensifies, spreading up my skull, which is still filled with fog. "I mean, it's-it's kind of my fault, but it's- Or, maybe it's not? I-I really don't know."

Why did I say that? Why do I want to tell her more, to come clean about my duties as Amity Park's protector?

She's doing this, I realize. It's the same thing she did to my parents and the principal and maybe Dash on the first day of school.

"I want to help you, Danny," she says, sounding like she means it. "Tell me what's going on with you."

The words are on the tip of my tongue. I'm Danny Phantom. I'll never be an astronaut because of my Obsession. I'm a huge disappointment to my parents. I lie to them every day because I'm terrified of what they'll do if they find out I'm a ghost.

Don't speak. Fight it, Danny, fight it .

The feeling in my head grows into a pressure so intense that spots coat my vision. A loud buzz fills my ears. My brain is trying to break my skull open. I think I slap my hands over my head. I think I bend over and moan or scream or sob.

"Danny? Danny!"

The pain is gone as quickly as it appeared. Sweating, panting, and shaking all over, I slowly stand back up. Ms. Mae is standing with her hands braced on her desk, eyes wide in horror and…guilt?

"Danny, are you alright?" she asks frantically.

She's a ghost. I need to get out of here. "I'm fine. I, uh, I have to catch the bus."

I hightail it out of there, see no one in the hall, and press myself against a locker. I turn invisible and observe Ms. Mae, if that really is her name, as she appears in the doorway and calls my name. She looks down both ends of the hall with her teeth gritted. When she receives no response, she groans and puts her head in her hands.

As she re-enters her classroom, I can barely hear her mumble, "His parents are ghost hunters. Of course, he's hyper-sensitive. He's probably contaminated out the wazoo!"

Hyper-sensitive?

I ponder this as I sneak past, not turning visible until I'm far from her room. Are some people more affected by her powers than others? And, what about my parents and my being "contaminated?" Is she talking about ecto-contamination? Are ghosts more susceptible? Is that why it hurts me but doesn't seem to bother anyone else?

And, her reaction. She could have been faking remorse to my face, but she didn't know I was standing by her door when I left. She had no reason to fake it then, so…was it genuine? Maybe she's not a bad ghost at all.

I need answers. I doubt she would confess to a human, but what about another ghost?

Wrapped up in my thoughts, I almost walk right past Sam and Tucker. We were supposed to hit the Nasty Burger today, but I no longer have an appetite.

"There you are," Sam says.

Tucker frowns at me. "What’s up? You've got that thinking look."

"Oh, I'm thinking," I say. I fill them in on what just happened with Ms. Mae, keeping my voice down though the courtyard is empty.

"So, she's definitely a ghost?" Sam asks.

"Definitely," I confirm. "It felt like someone was trying to cut open my skull. With a spoon! No human could have done that just by sitting there."

Tucker slouches and whines, "But, she's hot…"

Sam elbows him hard in the ribs then asks me, "So, what's the plan?"

"Besides taking me to a hospital," Tucker moans, pressing his hands to his side.

I ignore him. "Tomorrow after school, I'm gonna confront her. As Phantom. She might be more willing to talk to another ghost."

The next day is ghost-free besides a certain someone. In homeroom, Ms. Mae asked me if I was feeling alright after yesterday, and I mumbled an excuse about frequent migraines. I could tell she didn't buy it, but she didn't question it either. She couldn't without blowing her cover.

Once school lets out for the day, I sneak around the side of the building to transform. Ice-cold rings appear around my torso and spread up and down my body. When they vanish, I'm left with an ethereal glow and a black jumpsuit. I peek into windows until I find Ms. Mae's room. She sits at her desk, doing paperwork, unaware of my presence.

I make myself known by phasing through the wall and levitating in front of her desk. She's so absorbed in her work that she doesn't notice me until I clear my throat. She glances up at me and doubletakes, almost falling out of her chair in shock.

"Oh, uh, hi," she stammers. "You're-you're Danny Phantom, right? What are you doing here?"

She's not bad, I remind myself. At least, I don't think she is. "Relax, lady. I'm not gonna hurt you. But, I saw what you did to the Fenton-kid, and I was hoping you could explain a few things."

Ms. Mae slouches in defeat. "You saw that, huh? She knew this would happen eventually."

"She? Who's 'she?'" I ask, caught off-guard. "You mean, you're not a ghost?"

Ms. Mae hums thoughtfully. "Not in the sense that you're thinking."

"What does that mean? Wait, are you…a halfa ?" A ghost-hybrid, like me. An exceedingly rare species. Having a fellow halfa as a teacher might be kind of cool if she's as nice as she appears.

But, Ms. Mae shakes her head. "Oh, no. Definitely not. Look, it's probably better if you hear all this from the source." She points to the ceiling. "She's on the roof. She perches up there after school to make sure the students get where they're going safely. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a task to perform."

That's a weird way of saying, "I have papers to grade."

I take her advice and fly to the roof, phasing my way through the foundation. Once I'm up there, I spot a feminine ghost perched at the edge of the roof, observing the courtyard just as Ms. Mae said she'd be. The ghost wears a gray short-sleeved gown that's tattered at the bottom. Since she is floating and the gown is just that long, I assume she has no legs. Her straight black hair hangs past her butt, and her white (not caucasian) arms are behind her, her hands locked casually together. She's so thin that she would be in serious danger if she was a human.

I approach with caution, just in case she isn't as calm as Ms. Mae. "Excuse me," I say. The ghost flinches, startled. "Uh, Ms. Mae sent me here. She said you could give me some answers?"

The ghost slowly turns around, revealing a gaunt face with bright red eyes that lack any other color. She sighs through her nose, resigned. "Danny Phantom. So, you've finally found me." I'm surprised to hear that she has the same voice as Ms. Mae, though hers carries the barely perceptible echo that all ghost voices have. "When I found out this was the town you looked after, I knew you'd find me sooner or later."

I'm not surprised that she knows who I am. Even without my notoriety in this town, I'm a bit of a conversation starter in the Ghost Zone and not just because I'm a halfa. "I don't want any trouble," I assure. "I just want to talk."

The ghosts accepts my response and gestures for me to stand next to her. When I walk up to the ledge, I notice that, even without her floating, she's at least six inches taller than me.

"So, you know who I am," I say. "Who are you?"

"Eileen Merryweather," the ghost says. "That's the name I was born with, and I saw no reason to change it when I died."

So, she's a spirit, a ghost who was previously alive. "And, you're here because…?"

Eileen gazes down at the courtyard with a content smile as she watches everyone board their buses or head to their cars. "I taught in a one-room schoolhouse when I was alive, and I absolutely adored my job. When I died, teaching became my Obsession. I started out teaching demons about Earth and showing newly-formed spirits how to get by in the Ghost Zone, but I missed my old life. I knew I couldn't just go back to it, but I did eventually learn how to take on a human persona. Once I had it perfected, I found my way back to Earth. I stay at a school for a few decades then move on to another one, changing my name and appearance to avoid suspicion."

I hadn't expected her to be so forthcoming right out of the gate. I process her story. Teaching at a one-room schoolhouse would mean she died in, what, the sixteen-hundreds? "Sounds like you've been at this for a while."

Eileen huffs a laugh. "That's an understatement. I've had all kinds of faces and made up all kinds of names. Joanna French, Tracy Smith, Susan B. Anthony-"

"Susan B. Anthony?" Sam will get a kick out of this.

Eileen chuckles. "Yeah, that was a fun time."

I have a million more questions than I started with, but first things first. "So, where does Ms. Mae fit into all this?"

Eileen smirks. "You haven't figured it out yet?" A white light spreads over her. Her body shrinks down a few inches, and her dress morphs into a pair of legs. When the light fades, my speech fades with it. Ms. Mae turns toward me with a cheeky grin, an extended hand and a normal human voice. "Francesca Mae. Nice to meet you."

When I can speak again, the words come out in spurts. " You ? You're- But- But, she's… I-I just saw Ms. Mae in her classroom!"

"What you saw was a duplicate of me." Eileen returns to her ghostly form. "Changing forms isn't the only thing I can do."

She can use Duplication? "But-but, that you was so…conscious! It was like talking to a regular person!" I think about my own failed attempts at making sentient copies, and jealousy burns in my chest.

"Well, I've had plenty of time to get good at it," Eileen says modestly, her hands on her hips. "It's handy when I do things like this," she sticks her hand out toward the courtyard, which is almost empty by now. "Or, when I want to, say, avoid particularly annoying people during parent-teacher conferences. And, I always retain my copies' memories when I'm through with them, so no harm done."

For my own sake, I don't comment on that. "What about…the Fenton-kid? I happened to be passing by and he looked like he was in a lot of pain."

Eileen sighs heavily and rests a hand over her face. "Oh, Danny. Danny Fenton, not you." I don't comment on that either. "He's proving to be an interesting case."

How should I take that? "What do you mean?"

"Something is going on with that boy. On the first day of school he- You don't mind me going on about this, do you?"

I raise my hands. "Vent all you want, lady. I didn't think you'd be nearly this open with me." That and I want to know why I'm such an "interesting case."

Eileen shrugs. "I just figure honesty is the best policy when you're useless in a fight and you're talking to someone who isn't."

I chuckle. "Fair enough. But, I already told you I don't want to hurt you. So far, I'm not finding a reason to, anyway." It's true. She genuinely seems like she means no harm. A cynical part of me wonders if she's just that good an actress, but that part is pretty small.

Eileen sighs again, this time with relief. "Thank you. Now, back to Danny. First off, how much do you know about Compulsion?"

Compulsion? Does she mean her manipulation power? "Just…whatever you're about to tell me."

"It's the ability to alter someone's thought patterns. Basically, you can plant an idea into a person's head and make them act on it."

That sounds alarmingly familiar. "You mean, like, mind control?"

I must make a face, because she looks away sheepishly and wrings her hands. "You could use it that way. In fact, if I really wanted to, I could turn your brain into jelly before you even had time to scream." Holy shit. At my expression, she waves her hands in front of her. "I won't! I promise I won't do that. Mostly, I use a very mild Compulsion. More like a subtle suggestion than anything. From what I can tell, no one even feels it."

I narrow my eyes, recalling the agony I'd felt yesterday. "Clearly, Danny Fenton felt something."

Eileen frowns deeply. "Yeah, I think it's because of his parents. I assume you know his parents hunt ghosts?" I nod. Eileen crosses her arms. "I don't how exposed their son would be to their experiments, but I imagine the kid's got some level of ecto-contamination. See, ghosts like you and I are extremely sensitive to even the most mild forms of Compulsion. Enough so that we feel an intense pain if we try to resist it."

"Ah," I say, trying not to look uncomfortable, "that explains it."

"It's the only explanation I can come up with."

"So, why target him specifically?"

"The first day of school, he said he was going to be a good student this year. He has a bit of a reputation you see." I manage not to cringe. "Then, he started skipping school and stuff. He seemed so adamant about being better that I felt like something was up. Then, I overheard him talking with his friends about it, and I knew it had to be something pretty serious. I compelled him because I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for him, but obviously I'm not going to try that again."

Her honesty sends a pang through my heart. "So, you really just wanted to help?"

"Let's just say that my life ended because of something that wasn't my fault. When I see a good person doing bad things, I try to get their side of the story before I pass any judgment."

She wants to help me. She never intended to hurt me. She used her powers because she wanted to help me .

Teachers don't do that. They sigh and hand me a detention slip, maybe lecture me if they're in the mood. Yes, there have been times when someone showed a little extra kindness, but no one's ever done anything that truly helped . But, it's not like it's their fault. I'm not exactly an open book when it comes to my powers, my duties to this town.

Still…how many times now has Francesca Mae/Eileen Merryweather asked me if I was okay? Even my own parents don't do that, not when I really need them to. Out of nowhere, my throat closes up and I find myself blinking away tears.

"So," Eileen says when I don't respond, "what happens now?"

I hum in question.

She wrings her hands harder. "Is it…okay if I stay here? I-I know you don't like other ghosts in your territory, but-"

"What? Territory?" I have to laugh. "No, no, no, no. Amity Park is my home. I was born here. I learned to drive on these roads. I even lost my first tooth at the Nasty Burger. I'm not territorial. I just wanna keep this place safe."

"So," a tentative smile spreads on Eileen's face, "I can stay?"

I smile back. "Eileen, I think you and I have something in common. You want to help your students with things beyond education, and it just so happens that my own Obsession is helping others. I guess I kind of relate to you in that regard."

"So, you really don't mind my being here?"

"Nah. I think I can trust you." Before I can change my mind, I add, "Tell you what. I'll keep your ghostly little secret if you keep a secret of my own."

She's a ghost anyway, I figure. She already knows that halfas exist, so what's the harm?

Eileen grins and folds her hands in front of her chest. "Of course! That's more than fair. What's your secret?"

"My secret is that I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Two rings, piping hot ones now, run over my body. Eileen’s mouth falls open at the sight of the kid we were just talking about. Then, she bursts out laughing, doubling over and holding her too-thin stomach from the force of it. I grin at her reaction.

When she recovers, she throws her arms toward me. "Now it makes sense! Now it all makes sense! Ancients beyond, it all makes sense, now!" I wonder how often she uses terms like "Ancients beyond" in front of humans. Then again, it probably sounds like nonsense to anyone who doesn't know ghost terms. "So, are you a spirit or a demon?" Demons are ghosts who form in the Ghost Zone and were never traditionally "alive."

"Actually, I'm a halfa," I say.

Eileen's red eyes widen. "A ghost-hybrid. I heard there were a few roaming around. Wow. What are the odds of one of them winding up in my classroom?"

I cross my arms and say smugly, "With my luck? The odds were pretty good."

Eileen chuckles then sobers. "Hey, your parents hunt ghosts. Do they…know about this?"

I ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach. "No, but I have it under control. Don't worry."

Eileen looks like she's going to worry anyway. "It can't be easy protecting the town and going to school. Is that what you and your friends were talking about in the hall?"

"Yeah," I confess. "I thought I could use Duplication to make copies that would fight for me, but…" I shrug in defeat.

"You can use Duplication too?" Eileen huffs a laugh. "Danny, you saw my duplicate. Why don't I just teach you how to make yours as efficient as mine?"

"You would do that?" I ask, a flash of hope in my chest.

"Of course! Granted, I've never had mine do anything as complex as fighting," she crosses her arms, "but I'm sure the same principles apply."

I picture it. I send out a copy to patrol the town. The copy finds a rogue ghost and takes it down. Or, the copy sees someone being mugged and swoops in to save them. Meanwhile, my homework is done, my grades are up, and I only ask to use the restroom when I actually have to go. Mom and Dad wouldn't be ashamed of me all the time; they never say it, but I know they are.

And, outside of school? I still want to protect the town in person, but if I have something else going on? No making excuses to get away. No leaving my friends in the lurch (even if they do understand and are never mad about it). Jazz could stop covering for me when Mom and Dad ask where I am. Maybe she could transfer to a college she really wants to go to.

"Come on, Danny," Eileen encourages when I stay silent. "It's a win-win situation. You get to attend school and act like a normal kid, and I get a healthy core." She knocks her fist against her chest to emphasize this. "What do you say?"

I feel a smile pull at my lips.

Chapter Text

" If at first you don't succeed, try doing it the way I told you." - Eggs on Ice by Laura Childs

The plan is to meet up with Eileen after school each day to go to…wherever she's taking me to train. We are doing this under the guise of "special tutoring sessions that she used at her old school.” My mom said that she was willing to try anything at this point.

Okay, that's not how she phrased it over the phone, but I knew what she meant.

Training is supposed to start tomorrow, so when my Ghost Sense goes off just before the doorbell rings, the last thing I expect when I answer the door is to see "Ms. Mae" standing on the porch.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, thinking of the new sensors my parents just installed and hoping my teacher doesn't come any closer.

Eileen fluffs up her fake dark curls. "I figure if I'm going to be spending so much time with a student, I may as well let his parents know that I'm not a pedophile."

So not the response I was expecting. "There's a story here, isn't there?"

She blows out an annoyed breath. "Don't get me started."

"Well, uh, you really can't come in here."

Eileen laughs and shakes her head. "Danny, they're not gonna know what I am just because I walked into their living room."

Before I can stop her, she steps past me and-

' Ghost detected. Activating ecto-seeking missiles. '

Eileen freezes in place as two hatches open up in the ceiling, two machine guns dropping down and aiming at her. Jazz runs into the room and presses her hand to a sensor on the wall. The guns retract into the ceiling, and a mechanical voice announces, ' Missiles deactivated. Have a nice ghost-free day. ' We all breathe a sigh of relief.

"I can safely say that I've never received a greeting like that before," Eileen comments.

"Sorry. Our parents just installed those this morning," Jazz says to Eileen. "They're, um, a little buggy."

I'd asked Eileen if I could tell Jazz, Sam, and Tucker about her, since we all had her on our radar and they would totally keep her secret, but she said no. She isn't comfortable with any humans finding out, considering the bad rep ghosts still have, despite my own attempts at alleviating that. As far as the team knows, Ms. Mae was being stalked by a ghost, whom I've already taken care of, and Ms. Mae doesn't know my secret. I feel weird keeping this from them, but I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't respect Eileen's wishes.

"Where's the ghost?" Dad shouts as he and Mom rush in from presumably the lab. "Did the missiles work?" He deflates when he sees his kids, a human-looking black woman, and no splatters of ectoplasm. "Guess it's back to the drawing board," he whines.

"I'm so sorry," Mom says as she approaches Eileen. "You must be Ms. Mae." They shake hands. "I'm Maddie, and this is my husband, Jack," Mom adds when Dad steps forward.

"Nice to meet you. And, call me Francesca," Eileen says, shaking Dad's hand now. She turns to my sister, who is now standing beside me. "I assume you're Danny's sister."

My sister nods. "I'm Jazz." She leans in and whispers to me, "We'll be fine. You just focus on your studies."

I nod, feeling a twinge of guilt. The team knows how desperate I am to keep my promise and be a better student. When I said that Ms. Mae offered some one-on-one tutoring sessions, they offered to take care of any ghosts so I could focus on that. I hate the idea of not being there for them if there is a problem, but I remind myself that this training will pay off in the end. Still, I didn't relent until the guys promised to call me if the ghosts became more than they could handle. I trust my teammates, but that doesn't mean I want them getting hurt or worse.

"Since you're here," Mom says to Eileen after the adults chat for a while (as in, recognizing Eileen from school and apologizing for nailing her with the Booo-merang), "would you like to stay for dinner?"

Eileen smiles but glances up at the ceiling. "Oh, I don't want to impose." Translation: Don't destabilize me.

"Nonsense," Dad assures. "I just fixed the oven. It exploded last week, but I got it back to factory condition," he proudly raises his chin, "and I'm christening it with my mother's recipe for herbed chicken."

Suddenly, though not surprisingly, there's a loud bang in the kitchen followed by gurgling noises. We all rush in to check it out and find the oven wide open and Dad's half-cooked chicken crawling around on the floor.

"Does this happen a lot?" Eileen asks me as Mom and Dad try to round up what used to be dinner.

"Yep," I deadpan.

"Who's up for pizza?" Jazz asks casually.

There is an abandoned warehouse in the woods. This is to be our training ground. It's close to town, but it's also far enough that no one should notice anything out of the ordinary.

Unfortunately, my Ghost Sense goes off as we fly closer, so training might have to wait.

As if reading my thoughts, Eileen says, "Oh, I almost forgot. The warehouse is actually my friend's Haunt. He wanted to grab his things before we got there, so don't be surprised if you see another ghost."

Ah. I feel better now.

There are times when a spirit leaves the Ghost Zone and stumbles across the place they died. They become attached and, while they don't always live there, they visit frequently and are extremely protective of the place. That's probably why Eileen initially thought I was "territorial" over Amity Park. No one knows why this happens and it's a pretty rare phenomenon. For Eileen's friend to allow us to use this place for training, he must really trust her.

The old warehouse is a massive structure covered in plant life, holes, and chipped, faded paint. I'm a little concerned about the place collapsing on us while we're inside. Then again, we are ghosts. We phase in through the roof and the second floor, landing on the first and kicking up years of dust and bugs in the process. Well, I land; Eileen's lack of legs means she can only get so far.

Eileen's friend is definitely here. There are twenty or so boxes floating around, disappearing one by one as her friend sends them wherever they're going. I hear him humming a merry tune as he does this and turn around to see a short, plump blue ghost in overalls-

Oh. My. God.

"Hey, Lawrence," Eileen greets with a cheery wave.

Box Ghost - he does not look like a Lawrence - finally notices her and grins. "Hey, Eileen. I'm just finishing up inventory. I'll be done in a min-" Box Ghost sees me, and I'm pretty sure my own disbelief is mirrored on his face. He points to me and asks Eileen, "This is your student?"

I point back to him. "Your name is Lawrence?"

Leaving his floating cardboard for the time being, Box Ghost flies up in my face with a hard glare. "Only to friends, he who holds the cylindrical container of imprisonment!"

Definitely not a Lawrence. Maybe a Larry. "It's called a Thermos, dude," I correct.

Eileen floats in between us before this can escalate. "So, you're already acquainted," she notes awkwardly. "Good to know."

Acquainted is one way of putting it. At least ol’ Boxy is more of a nuisance than an actual threat. Except for that time he got a hold of Pandora's Box, but we all have our moments.

He finishes up his "inventory," keeping an eye on me the whole time, before making himself and his boxes scarce. If this is his Haunt, that would explain why he's always popping up around town.

Once he's gone, I have two questions for Eileen. "Okay, first off, how do you know the Box Ghost?"

"I met him shortly after he died," she informs. "Kinda showed him the ropes of being a ghost."

"Gotcha. And second, his name is Lawrence ?"

Eileen ignores that one and cracks her knuckles. "Let's just get down to business. First and foremost, how do you normally train?"

"Normally, I just fight my own copies head on."

"That's it?"

"Uh, yes?"

Eilee puts her hands on her hips. "Well, I'm already seeing the problem." She presses her hands together and points them at me. "Danny, your goal is to have your copies fight when you're not with them . Correct?"

Now, I get it. "Well, yeah, but how can I train them if I'm not, you know, there?"

"It's not your copies that need training, Danny. The thing about Duplication is that your copies have all of the knowledge you already possess. By training them physically, you're only training yourself."

I guess that makes sense. "So, how do I make them act on their own?"

"You have to train your mind," she says, pressing her index finger to her temple. She sits on the floor, her dress folded beneath her ( does she have legs?), and pats the spot next to her. "You and I are going to meditate."

…Is she serious? When I don't move, she pats the spot again and smiles encouragingly and oh my god she's serious.

"If you break out incense and say, 'Namaste,'" I snark, "you understand if I have to punch you."

Eileen isn't dissuaded. "I know it seems stupid, but trust me. It's relaxing, and it helps strengthen your mind. Don't ask me how it works. I just know that it does."

Yep, she really does want me to meditate. I shrug and sit cross-legged beside her.

"Now," Eileen closes her eyes and rests her hands in her lap, "close your eyes, focus on your breathing, and don't think about anything else."

"We're ghosts," I say, placing my hands in my own lap. "We have to focus if we want to breathe."

"And, that's the only thing you should be focusing on."

She falls silent. I half-expect her to go, "Ooooohhhhmmm," and am oddly disappointed when she doesn't.

Alright. I am doing this.

I close my eyes and force air into my ghost-form. I breathe naturally as a human, so it's alway weird trying to make myself do it as a ghost. For the most part, I only do it when I'm gearing up for a Ghostly Wail-

Nope. Don't think. Stop thinking. Just breathe.

…

How long am I supposed to be doing this? How do you just not think ?

This is ridiculous. My friends and sister are patrolling the town, and I'm sitting on my ass. What if they're in danger? What if Skulker upgraded his robotic suit again? What if Technus took control of their equipment? What if Vlad kidnapped them and is using them for leverage against me?

No. No. They promised to call if there was an emergency.

…

But, what if they don't?

Jazz, Sam, and Tucker are always looking out for me, always taking care of me. Even if they don't know what I'm really being tutored in, they know how important this is to me. They won't call. They won't want to interrupt me. They're so good to me. And, how do I repay them? By watching them follow me into battle and get hurt. By letting them sit in detention because they covered for a mess I made while ghost fighting. By sitting in the fucking Box Ghost's Haunt, breathing .

Is this supposed to be helping me? Why did my parents agree to what they think are normal tutoring sessions? Because they don't know what to do with me, of course. I'm the problem child. I skip school and keep secrets and am generally a mess. Oh, if they only knew. I wish I had the guts to tell them that I'm their favorite ghost to hunt down. But, I'll never tell them. Ghosts are vengeful creatures, they say. A person's humanity dies with them, they say. It doesn't matter to them who the ghost used to be; they'll destroy it without a second thought because they assume it's dangerous.

"Um, Danny?"

Mom and Dad would hate me if they knew the truth.

"Danny."

But, what difference would it make? I'm already a disappointment-

" Danny ."

Eileen's voice jolts me out of my thoughts. "Are-are we done?" I ask her.

She raises an eyebrow and looks kind of amused. "I don't think we started."

That's when I realize that my legs are stiff. I look down, and my stomach drops. Ghosts don't feel changes in temperature, so I didn't notice the ice that wasn't there before. Jagged icicles stick up out of the thick sheet that surrounds both of us. And, I'm at the center of it.

First the Duplication is a bust. Now I've lost control of my ice powers?

"Don't be discouraged. No one's good at meditating the first time around." Eileen gazes at the ice and chuckles. She's laughing at me. I don't blame her. "Or, maybe you're too good at this."

"I'm sorry." I stand up, that stupid ice cracking like my heart as I break through it. My voice is as heavy as the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry. I-I don't think this is gonna work. I'm sorry."

"Danny," Eileen calls after me as I make my escape. "Danny, wait!"

I don't wait. I phase through the wall and stand among the trees. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. If I can't even breathe right, how am I supposed to master Duplication? Maybe I'm not even meant to master it. Maybe I'm just that pathetic.

I groan, change back into a human, and let myself fall down the wall of the warehouse. I don't want to be a ghost right now.

There's a shift in the atmosphere next to me. I chance a look and see Eileen hovering beside me, looking down at me with so much concern.

"Taking a ghost break?" she asks. "Maybe I will, too." She shifts into her Ms. Mae persona and sits next to me, hugging her knees to her chest. I turn my head away. "I shouldn't have laughed," she says.

"It's okay," I mutter even though it's not. Then, guilt creeps over me again. "I shouldn't have walked out on you."

"It's okay," she says, sounding like she means it. We sit in silence for a moment, then, "Danny, would you like to know how I died?"

And, that makes me look at her. A spirit's death is a very, very sensitive topic. In fact, if you ask someone how they died, you run the risk of getting mauled or worse. It's that upsetting for some of us.

"If you're willing to tell me," I reply.

Eileen holds out her hands as if framing something. "Picture it. Salem, Massachusetts. 1692. I was a teacher, and my husband was the local blacksmith. Real big guy but a real sweetheart. Nowadays, you'd call him a teddy bear. He was a wonderful husband, and I liked him a lot. But, I didn't love him, not the way a wife should love her husband."

"So, why did you marry him?" I ask.

Eileen shrugs. "We got along well enough that when he proposed, I thought that maybe I could love him that way. But, I never did. In fact, I'd never felt anything like that for any man. I'm a lesbian, Danny, though there wasn't a word for it back then. You were just… wrong ." She spits out the word. "I thought that being married to a man would keep anyone from finding out. Was I using him? Kind of, but the alternative was much worse."

"So, you're a woman who likes other women. What's the big deal?"

She laughs humorlessly. "We needed more people like you back then. Pop quiz, kid. What historical event occurred in Salem between 1692 and 1693?"

"The Witch Trials," I breathe, the pieces falling into place.

"A-plus," Eileen says, making a checkmark in the air. "Everyone was walking on eggshells back then, especially the women. One wrong move, and they branded you as a witch and hung you in front of the whole town. I was extra careful to keep my feelings inside, until I met a woman who had the same kinds of feelings. She and I weren't in love - hell, I don't even remember her name - but we both had an itch to scratch, so to speak. We would meet up in secret and, uh…" Green creeps over her cheeks. I hope she doesn't blush too much among humans.

I smirk at her. "You had sex? I'm not a baby, Eileen. I know what sex is."

She drums her fingers on her leg and doesn't meet my gaze. "Well, it's weird talking about my…personal life with a student." I laugh, and she fights a smile. "Anyway, it was a huge risk every time, and we both knew it. But, we were having fun."

"Until you were caught," I say somberly.

Her smile drops. "Her own husband came home early one day and found us - ahem - going at it in a pile of hay in his barn."

"You had sex in hay ?"

Eileen throws her hands in the air. "I don't know. That's just how people had affairs back then. Where do you think the phrase 'rolling in the hay' comes from?" I try not to laugh at the mental image. Eileen sobers. "Her husband caught us and, naturally, he told my husband. Next thing you know, everyone thinks us girls are witches and…" She makes a choking sound and mimes hanging herself. "The only silver lining is that it happened before either of us could have kids."

My heart goes out to her. I know what it's like to have to hide who you are, to fear what people will do if they find out. "Oh, man. I know affairs are bad, but were people really that paranoid?"

Eileen shrugs helplessly. "It was a different time, Danny. Things are better now, but I'm still nervous about telling people I'm gay."

"So, why are you telling me?"

She rests a hand on my shoulder. "Because I know how it feels to have a million things on your mind. I know our problems are vastly different- Unless you're…?"

"Nope. Straight as a board."

"Then, yeah, pretty different. But, I feel like the fear is the same. Don't think I've forgotten about those missiles in your house. Be honest. Do you ever set off any sensors in there?"

I want to say no, but she's being so open and honest with me that I can't bring myself to lie. "Only when I'm in ghost-form. Sometimes they'll have some small, harmless thing that detects ghosts, but when it hones in on me, they just assume it's not working right."

"They're kind of clueless, aren't they?"

"Kind of, yeah." Then, because I've heard her story, because I'd spent the past month being so suspicious of this woman who has been nothing but kind to me, the words all fall out. "Picture it. Amity Park, Illinois. 2004. My parents built a machine they called a Ghost Portal so that they could peek into the ghosts' world. But, it didn't work. Or, so they thought. One day, when they weren't home and my sister was out with her friends, my own friends and I were in the lab. Just goofing off, you know? Sam had gotten a new camera for her birthday, and we thought we could get some fun pictures. She suggested that I pose in the Portal. So, I put on a jumpsuit, went inside, and inadvertently discovered that, for whatever reason, the 'on' button was inside the Portal. Do you see where this is going, or should I continue?"

"I get it," Eileen says, a serious, thoughtful expression on her face. "That's…highly irresponsible. Who puts an 'on' button inside a dangerous machine?"

I shrug. "Probably my dad. I love him, but he, uh, doesn't always think things through."

"Still, that's kind of ridiculous, don't you think?" I shrug again. Eileen lets out a soft grunt. "So, why not tell them the truth? I know they're ghost hunters, but surely they wouldn't hurt their own son."

I hug my knees to my aching chest and look away. That conversation in the kitchen plays in my head. My parents' voices, sympathetic but so damn certain , drill into my heart, into the core they want to literally drill into. "They…they hate ghosts. They think ghosts are evil, unstable." Tears pool in my eyes as emotion takes over. "It doesn't matter who the ghost is to them. They…they'll destroy it. They'll destroy me…" I've said it. I've never given voice to that fear, not even to the rest of the team, but now I've said it. I sniff and wipe away the tears that escaped. Green tears, I notice. My eyes must be glowing again. "Will you quit compelling me? I don't wanna talk about this."

Eileen scoots a little closer. "Danny, I'm not compelling you."

I whip my head toward her. For some reason, it hurts worse to see the sadness and pity on her face and know that she's telling the truth. "You-you have to be! Why else would I have told you that?"

"Maybe you just needed to."

Suddenly, everything becomes too much. I throw my hands over my face as sobs erupt from my throat. Eileen wraps her arm around me in a side-hug. I lean into the touch, crying harder at the kindness. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be blubbering all over this woman I barely know.

But…I do know her, don't I? Her name is Eileen Merryweather. Her Obsession is teaching. She meditates unironically. She is sweet but doesn't put up with jerks like Dash Baxter. She became friends with the Box Ghost (I refuse to call him Lawrence) when he died and she showed him the ins and outs of being a ghost. She was married to a blacksmith. She died when her sexuality got her branded as a witch.

She's not a stranger. I think I know her pretty well.

When I finally calm down, I pull away and swipe at my eyes and nose - at some point, I'd reverted back to human tears - apologizing and muttering, "God, this is embarrassing."

"Not as much as you think," Eileen says.

Her gentle tone makes me want to cry again, but I reign it in. "Thanks for that. I guess I kind of needed it."

"It's what I'm here for." She gives me a moment to compose myself. "Do you wanna call it a day? We can try again tomorrow after you've had some rest."

I could say yes. I could say that I need a cooldown, and she would let me have it. But, I can see in her eyes - those fake brownish eyes that I wish were a vibrant red - that she wants to keep at it. But, I also know that she would understand if I wanted to hold off on this.

So, I stand up, go ghost, and say, "I want to try meditating again."

Eileen smiles warmly, rises, shifts back to her true, ghostly form, and says, "I was hoping you'd say that. Maybe it'll be easier now that you've gotten all that off your chest." Then, she purses her lips, rests her chin in her hand, and observes me. "Say, you wouldn't happen to own a pentagram, would you?"

…Wasn't the meditation cheesy enough? "Pentagram? I thought that was just some movie thing. Like ouija boards and salt circles."

"Nope. Pentagrams are the real deal. Although, movies definitely make them seem more interesting than they are. You see, and I'm speaking from experience here, when a ghost meditates with a pentagram, it both restores energy and helps you relax. Since you're new to meditation, it might help you until you get better at it."

Huh. The world of ghosts never ceases to amaze me. "I don't have a pentagram, but I might be able to borrow one."

When I told Sam I had a new idea for making my Duplication work, she was happy to lend me her necklace. Though, she and Tucker were as surprised as I was to hear that pentagrams had a purpose in real life.

"Ms. Mae" and I meet up behind the school after class lets out for the day. When she sees me approach, she shifts into her natural state. "Did Sam give you her necklace?" I pull the black pentagram out from under my shirt and let it fall over my chest. Eileen gives me a thumbs-up. "Awesome."

"And, you really think this thing will help me?" I confirm.

"Totally. Now, do your ghost-thing, and let's get a move on."

"I'm going ghost!" I announce, raising my arms to the sky for added flare. When the cold rings run over me and reveal my other form, Eileen rests her hand on her sunken cheek, and looks at me funny. "What?" I ask, lowering my arms.

Eileen takes her hand off her face and points to my chest. "I just wasn't expecting that. It doesn't look bad, it's just…unexpected. Shows what I know about halfas, I guess."

I look down and tug on the fabric of my jumpsuit. Normally, there is an insignia on my chest: a thick white D that isn't closed at the bottom, giving it the appearance of having a P inside of it. That symbol is still there, but it now sits over a pentagram the same neon-green as my ghost-form's eyes. Meanwhile, the necklace is nowhere to be found.

On one hand, the new design looks pretty cool, even from upside-down. On the other hand, Sam isn't going to be too happy with me.

"Remind me to buy Sam a new necklace," I say.

"Uh, yeah," Eileen says. "Well, on the plus side, you now have a pentagram of your own. Although, I've never tried this with the shape imprinted on something. Just with the pentagram itself. I assume it will still work."

I morph my legs into a tail and levitate, more determined than ever. "There's only one way to find out."

Chapter Text

" Pros of wearing all black: I look badass. Cons of wearing all black: everyone knows I had powdered donuts." - Unknown

The next month is a whirlwind.

Every training session starts out with Eileen and I meditating together. I don't know if it's because of the new pentagram on my jumpsuit or because I'd unloaded all those bottled up feelings, but meditation slowly gets easier. We started with doing it for three minutes. Then, we slowly increased the time spent on it. We're up to twenty minutes now. Eileen was ecstatic when I told her I'd started doing it at home as a human. When my parents caught me and asked what I was doing, I said it was "a new age teacher thing" that Ms. Mae said would help me focus. Their response was essentially, "Hey, whatever works." I told Jazz the truth about it, leaving out where I got the idea.

After meditating, Eileen has me step outside and summon a duplicate to the room with her. She had it perform simple tasks at first, things like math problems, crossword puzzles, anything that required actual thought beyond "punch the bad guy." The first time, my copy just sat there. The second time as well. Eileen was always patient and encouraging when I got frustrated. Once my copy was able to do the worksheets (as well as I would be able to at least), she started having it do similar things while I focused on my homework.

The Box Ghost pops in every now and again, checking on his Haunt and giving me the stink eye. I think he's worried I'll blow up the building or something. Coincidentally, or not, the team says that Larry - he screamed at me the first time I called him that, so naturally I'm going to keep doing it - has been in rare form around town. Tucker complains that he's started hearing "Beware!" in his sleep.

Eventually, Eileen thought I was ready to try fighting. She and I went outside while our copies duked it out in the warehouse, with Box Ghost watching to make sure we didn't break anything. If her copies are anything to go by, Eileen is right that she really does stink at fighting, but these aren't meant to be real fights anyway. And, if any stray shots head the Box Ghost's way, well, blame it on faulty copies!

It took some time before my duplicates could go out on their own. Thankfully, ghost attacks were pretty sparse after that disastrous first month of school. Apart from Larry, but you can mostly ignore him.

Then came the day a demon I didn't know decided to harass the school. I had gym class outside at the time, so I couldn't hide among the chaos to go ghost like I usually would. I took a chance and summoned a duplicate to handle the problem. I was half-confident and half-freaking-out-about-it, and for once I was grateful to have some physical exertion in my less than athletic human form.

It wasn't long before my copy vanished. Not because it was beaten, but because it felt that it's job was done. Memories of the fight, of victory , came to me in an instant. We happened to be running the mile in class that day, so luckily everyone thought the water on my cheeks was sweat. When I told Eileen, who had been busy helping get the students out of the building, that it wasn't me, but a duplicate who had saved the day, she was as thrilled as I was.

My copies still don't talk, still act more like robots than people, but they're getting really good at handling themselves. And, I have Eileen Merryweather to thank for it.

"Okay," Eileen says after a round of meditation. "You ready to take on multiple enemies at once?"

I crack my knuckles and switch back to human-form. "You know it," I say before pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing.

Box Ghost hovers next to Eileen and gripes, "I still don't know why I agreed to this."

"I beat you up all the time," I remind him. "The only difference is that now you're letting me." He huffs and crosses his arms. Eileen snorts and covers her grin with her hand.

But, she wasn't the only one who recruited a friend for this, and mine has a new power.

A feminine voice answers my phone. " Is it time? "

"It's time, Mira," I say.

" Sweet! Make some room! "

I hold my phone away from me, and my fellow ghosts hang back as harmless yellow-green sparks roll over my phone, creating a loud staticky sound. A shapeless green mass shoots out from the screen, forming into a spirit with green skin, perpetually tangled dark green hair, and blood-red eyes.

Mira Scott lands beside me and almost knocks me over in a hug. "It's been too long since I could see you outside of a screen!"

I laugh and wrap one arm around her. "Well, now that you can teleport through electronics, we can do this a lot more often."

I'd told Mira what I'd been up to in one of our video chats, and she offered to help me out so that she could practice her own powers more. I still don't like the idea of hurting her - as far as I know, she can't use Duplication - but at least this gives her the chance to make some ghost friends. Well, a ghost friend. I'm not sure how she'll feel about the Box Ghost.

Mira releases me and turns to the others. "You're the ghosts helping Danny, right? I'm Mira."

Eileen nods. "I'm Eileen. And, this is-"

"I am the Box Ghost!" he screams with his arms in the air and a not-exactly-intimidating expression on his face. "I have power over all containers cardboard and square!"

I'm guessing I looked the same way Mira does right now back when I first met this guy. "Nice to meet you," Mira drawls. She leans toward me and whispers. "He's the one you warned me about?"

"I heard that!" Box Ghost snaps.

I hold up my hands. "Chill, Larry the Cable Guy."

"Cease thy nicknames!"

" Alright, " Eileen interrupts, raising her hands. "Here's the plan. Danny's copies not only need to be able to fight multiple foes at once, but they also need to be able to rescue people directly. So," she shifts into Ms. Mae and lets gravity set her down, "today, I am the classic damsel in distress."

Mira floats to her with an awed expression. "Whoa! You can turn into a human? Are you a half-ghost like Danny?"

Eileen smiles proudly and puts her fists on her hips. "Nope. Just good at Shapeshifting. Mira, you and Lawrence are going to be the bad guys Danny's copy has to save me from."

Mira turns to Box Ghost. "Your name is Lawrence?"

Before Box Ghost can respond, I point to him and taunt, "No, his name is Larry the Cucumber."

Scary Larry - oh, I've got to use that some time - glares daggers at me and screams, " I am the Bo- "

"Danny," Eileen says with her stern teacher voice. She points to the door. "Out. You know what to do."

I give her a military salute, hike up my backpack for effect, and see myself out. I close the rusted old door behind me and summon a duplicate inside the warehouse. I am about to sit down and start my homework when I spot a van in the distance. My first thought is that it belongs to hikers or maybe some travelers who got lost. Then, I actually look at the silver vehicle and see the big green F on the side.

This can't be happening.

I run to the Ghost Assault Vehicle, racking my brain for something that will get my parents far away from here. But, I end up plowing face-first into them. When we all recover from the shock, I see that they are both carrying ray guns and their belts are loaded up.

Not good. Very, very not good.

"Mom, Dad," I say, trying not to let my panic show. "What are you doing here?"

"We've detected a lot of ecto-activity in this area," Dad explains. He holds up the ray gun with an eager grin that gives me chills. "So, we're checking it out!"

Mom narrows her eyes at me, understandably suspicious. "What are you doing here, young man? Shouldn't you be at tutoring?"

Before I can babble out an excuse, Eileen cries out, "Help! Help! Save me from the ghosts!" at the worst moment possible.

"Was that your teacher?" Mom confirms, she and Dad now on high alert.

As the saying goes, play the hand you're dealt. "Yeah. Uh, some ghosts captured us and brought us here. But, I escaped and went to get help."

Dad pushes me behind him. "You stay here, son. Let your mother and I handle this."

Like hell I will. It just dawned on me that I've sicced my parents on Mira. Oh, and the Box Ghost. Him, too.

I race after my parents. Dad kicks the door, and it slams on to the floor. He and Mom burst into the room, aiming their guns. All the ghosts, including my duplicate, see the danger and freeze in surprise. My copy is locked in an aerial fighting stance. Box Ghost has a heavy-looking container floating over his head. Mira's hands are encased in lightning. "Ms. Mae" is trapped in a cubic, magenta-colored barrier.

All in all, it really doesn't look good.

"It's Phantom!" Dad calls out.

"And, his electric friend is back," Mom notes. "Release that responsible member of the American education system!"

"Uh, hello?" Box Ghost waves his hands in the air. "You forgot about me, the Box Ghost."

Mom and Dad look at each other and shrug with an uninterested, "Eh." Box Ghost just scowls at them. The whole scene would be a lot more amusing if I wasn't so terrified.

I do the only thing I can think of and remove my copy. This signals Mira and Box Ghost to get out while they can, which they smartly do by phasing through the wall. Of course, Box Ghost sticks his head back in and cries, "Beware!" before leaving because he's like that. Then, he sticks his head in again and points to the fallen door. "You better fix that." Mom responds by blasting him with the ray gun, knocking him back through the wall. I don't think that door is getting fixed.

The barrier dissolves around Eileen, and my parents and I run up to her. Since she still looks shell-shocked, I start her off. "Ms. Mae, are you okay? I brought help just like I said I would."

"Um, yes," Eileen says, playing along. To my parents, she adds, "Thank goodness Danny ran into you two, or who knows what could have happened."

"We're just glad you’re both safe," Mom says. Then, she takes my chin in her hand. "Especially you, sweetie." She kisses my cheek, and I duck away in an odd blend of pain and embarrassment.

Dad looks around wearily. "Still, I'd expected more of a fight."

Eileen shrugs with a secret smile. "Well, maybe those other ghosts thought that taking on Danny Phantom and two ghost hunters was a little too much."

What is she doing?

"Come again?" Mom asks.

"Phantom came in shortly before you guys and tried to save us. How do you think your son managed to escape? That was Phantom's doing."

My heart stops, waiting for my parents' reactions. Surely, they can't say that Phantom is evil when he supposedly rescued their son, right?

But, my hopes are dashed when Mom waves off the story. "You must be mistaken. Danny said he ran off to get help. Why would he have to do that if Phantom really was trying to protect you two? Besides, Phantom was the first one to flee the scene."

Eileen grits her teeth, realizing her mistake.

Don't say anything, Danny. Don't say a damn word.

"Francesca," Dad says to my teacher, "you're still kind of new in town, so let us be frank. Danny Phantom may seem like a friendly guy, but ghosts are nothing but trouble."

"It's only a matter of time before Phantom drops the hero act and shows his true colors," Mom adds. "Watch your back around that ghost. That's my advice to you." Dad nods in agreement.

They offer to drive us both back to "Ms. Mae's" house, but with a little Compulsion, Eileen convinces them to go home. Meanwhile, I stand here, biting the knuckle of my index finger, an old habit that shows up when I'm trying to hold it together.

"You okay?" Eileen asks after a while, shifting back to her normal self.

I don't respond. I don't know how. What will it take for my parents to realize that I'm not a bad ghost?

Mira and Box Ghost poke their heads back in through the wall. "Is it safe?" Mira asks.

"All clear," Eileen assures.

Mira and Box Ghost phase through fully. Box Ghost glances in the direction my parents went, uncharacteristically subdued. "So, those were your parents? Wow."

Great. Even the Box Ghost pities me. "It's not as bad as it looks, Larry the Platypus." The fact that he doesn't get mad at me for the taunt says that he knows my heart's not in it.

"I'm starting to see why you never told them who you are," Mira says. "I mean, you told me why, but…it's different."

"You've seen them in action," I remind her.

Mira tugs on her denim jacket. "Yeah, but…it's different."

Memories of her parents' discussion of whether or not to adopt me fill my mind. "It's nothing I can't handle," I assure despite the aching in my chest. I gesture to myself. "They love this half of me, and that's all that matters." So, why do I want to scream?

Box Ghost points to my face with a startled expression. "Are black eyes normal for you?"

What?

"I've seen that happen before," Mira adds, staring curiously at me, "but it didn't last this long."

What ?

The day I took down my space decor comes to mind. When I saw myself in the mirror-

Don't freak out. One thing at a time. "Can we stay on topic? I'm okay, and I know what I'm doing. Alright? Alright."

Eileen clears her throat. "Maybe we should try this again another time. Just to be safe."

"But, you compelled them to go home," I say. "So, that means they're on their way home, right?"

"Yes, but…" There's something else on her mind. I can tell, and I have a pretty good idea of what it is. "Well, alright. I can see you're determined." To my surprise, she sends out a duplicate that's already disguised as Ms. Mae. "You all practice while Danny and I talk."

Oh, boy. I form my own copy, and Eileen leads me outside. I can already hear sounds of fighting by the time we're out of the warehouse.

I start talking before she can. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm fine. I've been doing this long enough that I know how to handle Mom and Dad. And, Jazz helps me, so I'm totally fine."

But, Eileen knows I'm full of hot air. She takes my shoulders and kneels(?) down in front of me. She regards me with a kind but firm expression. "Danny, I have no doubt that you know how to…navigate your parents. But, I'm going to ask you a question that you're not gonna like. You don't have to answer it, but if you don't, you understand if I make my own assumptions, especially since you've all but implied it in the past."

I don't know what she's about to say, but I nod and brace myself for the question.

"Daniel Fenton. Are you afraid of your parents?"

No one's ever asked me that before.

I think about my parents. They aren't perfect. They get so deep into their work that you could make a case for neglect. Frankly, there were times when Jazz was more of a parent, and she's only two years older than me. Still, Mom and Dad are endlessly kind and caring. They'll throw themselves in harm's way to keep me and Jazz safe. They love us with every fiber of their beings, and that's the most important thing when it comes to parenting, isn't it?

But, my parents' hatred of ghosts knows no bounds. How many times have I come home from school and listened to them rant about some new device meant to detect and/or capture and/or destroy ghosts? How many times have they scoffed at a news story about Danny Phantom saving lives and said it was part of some facade? How many times have I snuck into the lab to free an innocent ghost who had simply been minding their own business when they were captured?

How many times have I listened to them go on about what they would do to Danny Phantom when they finally got their hands on him?

How many times have they kissed Danny Fenton goodnight and told him they loved him and meant it?

My throat tightens. "I don't know."

Eileen looks like she'd expected that answer. "Danny, I've been worried about you since I found out you were a halfa with ghost hunter parents. But lately, I'm wondering if I'd worried enough."

"I love them."

Eileen's red eyes soften, and she smiles sadly. "I know that, kid. I just want you to be safe. And, I'm not saying that as your teacher. I'm saying that as your friend."

I lower my head and squeeze my eyes shut. A tear falls out.

"Danny." I force myself to look at her. "This, I'm saying as your friend and your teacher. You come to me if you need anything, okay? I told you that on the first day of school, but it applies now more than ever. Let me be here for you, Danny. Okay?"

Heart in pieces, I can only nod as more tears spill down my cheeks and I fight to keep my sobs in.

"Hey, we need another Phantom-" Box Ghost had appeared in the doorway and is now gawking at the scene before him. He coughs into his fist and looks anywhere else. "So…we destroyed the Phantom-copy, and we need a new one. But, take your time. No rush."

And now the Box Ghost has seen me cry. Insult to injury.

"Are Mom and Dad home?" I ask upon stepping into our living room.

Jazz had been lying back on the couch with a book when I came in. "Not yet." She marks her place, closes the book, and sits up. "You okay?"

I must look as horrible as I feel. "Well, Larry-an the Librarian saw me cry, so that's fun."

She stares blankly at me. "Is that code for something?"

"Ah, forget it," I say with a dismissive wave.

I start for my room, but Jazz pats the spot next to her and says, "Come on, little brother. I can see that something's wrong."

I guess she'll hear about this from Mom and Dad, anyway. I plop down beside her. "There was…a ghost attack at Ms. Mae's house. No big deal. No one got hurt. But, Mom and Dad showed up and…and spouted the usual bull. I guess it's just bugging me."

Jazz hums sympathetically. "There's more to it, isn't there?"

Yeah, but that would involve revealing Eileen's secret. My teacher's words play through my mind. Am I safe here? On some level, I know I'm not, but I also feel like I am. To an extent. Oh God, that's horrible, isn't it? That I'm only safe in my own home to an extent . My knuckle finds my mouth, and Jazz puts her arm around me, waiting for me to confide in her. I'm so close to doing just that, to pouring out all my fears to my big sister, the woman who's been a parent to me when our real parents weren't, who may or may not have chosen a college nearby so that she wouldn't have to leave me alone in this house.

No. I can't tell her. She carries too much of my emotional baggage as it is.

But, she's waiting for me to say something, and she'll only worry more if I don't. Think of something. Think of anything-

I suddenly remember what the Box Ghost pointed out earlier. "Jazz, have my eyes ever turned black?"

Jazz pulls away, stunned. "What?"

"It’s just something I noticed." Not a lie, though at the time, I thought I was seeing things. "So, uh, have they?"

Jazz gnaws on her lip, oblivious of the knot that forms in my stomach. "Yeah. They have."

Oh, shit. "And, you didn't think to tell me ?"

"Well, it-it didn't seem to be hurting you or anything," Jazz stammers guiltily. She pulls her hands through her hair. "I know. I should have told you. But, it was after the whole Mira-thing, and you were so upset already and it never happened again and- I-I don't know everything about your weird ghost biology, alright? I'm sorry."

I let my temper cool. I had been trying not to add to Jazz's burden, and now I made her feel bad. "It's okay, Jazz. But, when something weird happens to me, you have to tell me . I don't know everything about my biology either, so when something new happens, I need to be made aware of it."

"I know," she says somberly. "I'm sorry. I just assumed you knew about it. Like when your eyes glow when you're mad, I thought it was just a thing that happened when you were really upset."

That theory would fit with when it supposedly occurred. "With any luck, that's all it is." But, wouldn't I have known about it by now? Then again, it's not like I can see my own eyes.

When I head up to my room, I call Sam and Tucker and ask them if they've ever seen my eyes turn black. They haven't, but they promise to keep their own eyes open.

Mira and the Box Ghost (if that doesn't sound like a band name, I don't know what does) spend the next two weeks coming to the latter's Haunt to help me train. I'm happy to say that Mira is getting along great with Eileen, who offered to be another contact for when Mira has a question about her afterlife.

As for Boxy, Mira's gotten used to him, and that's about it. Not that I expected anything else. He is the Box Ghost, after all. Though the team was relieved to report that he'd finally stopped his month-long tirade. Or at least, he's taken a break.

All in all, my copies are doing great! I haven't lost one in a fight since the day my parents interrupted our session, and my Duplication is really coming along. Eileen says that I'll know I have it down pat when my copies start to talk and act like me. I can't wait until the day I hear them spout out some of my trademark quips!

Sam, Tucker, and I are sitting at our usual table outside at lunch as I inform them of my progress, only mentioning Mira's help and not anything more specific.

At least, that's what I was doing when my Ghost Sense went off.

There is a startled cry at a table on the other side of the courtyard, where a girl's lunch box is glowing and shaking. It opens on its own, and a blue beam of light leaps out and-

"Beware! For, I am the Box Ghost!"

Why the hell not?

Sam groans loudly and puts her head in her hands. Tucker facepalms and gripes, "Oh, come on. I finally stopped having those dreams!"

Everyone else screams and runs for cover - a ghost attack is a ghost attack, no matter who it is - and I start to duck under the table, ready to transform. Then, I think, maybe I should try Duplication. It's just Larry Boy, after all.

I summon a copy, and my friends and I duck under the table and act scared.

Meanwhile, Box Ghost sends all the lunch boxes on the tables into the air. "Yes! Fear me, for I have been training! Tremble before the might of-"

"Larry, Larry, Quite Contrary! How did your training go?"

That was my voice.

But, it wasn't my mouth saying it.

Box Ghost scowls at my copy. "Really? Those are its first words?"

My copy descends but stays above ground. It rears back and readies a ghost ray. "You're just lucky I don't know the rest of that rhyme."

It's talking like me. My copy is acting like me . That means I did it. I've finally gotten Duplication down. I have to clutch the bench attached to the table to stop myself from running over and hugging my copy, from finding Eileen and hugging her.

"Danny," Sam says with a grin as we watch the fight, "did your duplicate just banter?"

A breathy laugh is the only response I can give.

"Awesome, man!" Tucker praises, smacking me on the back. "But, why Larry?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" I ask when I can form sentences again. "Turns out the Box Ghost's name is Larry."

Larry hears me and flies to my hiding spot to scream, "It is Lawrence!"

My copy appears behind him. "Dude, you are so not a Lawrence." It fires one last ghost ray to the butt, and Box Ghost decides he's had enough and flies away. "And, don't come back!"

Everyone in the courtyard leaps from their hiding spots and cheers for "Phantom," but not even Paulina Sanchez, who has a crush on my alter-ego, cheers louder than me. My copy tips an imaginary hat to the crowd, sneaks a meaningful glance at me, and flies off, disappearing behind a building before removing itself from existence. The pulsing of my core has nothing on the joy in my heart.

"I'm so glad he's bantering again," I hear Paulina say. She clasps her hands together and rests her cheek over them, swooning. "He's been so quiet lately. I've missed his witty remarks."

She's not the only one. My friends crush me in a group hug, which I return with even more enthusiasm, not caring who sees.

"You three look happy," Eileen comments.

My friends and I let go, slightly embarrassed. We hadn't heard Eileen walk up to us, and my Ghost Sense no longer appears around her now that I know what she is and expect her to be here.

Tucker chuckles awkwardly. "Just happy to survive a ghost attack."

"Always a good thing," Eileen agrees with a casual smile. She points to Sam. "Nice necklace, by the way."

Sam fingers the silver pentagram necklace resting over her dark purple shirt. "Oh, thanks. Danny bought it for me."

Eileen's smile is one only I can interpret. "Kid's got good taste. Mind if I borrow him for a minute?"

She leads me around the building for some privacy then breaks into a huge grin and holds out her arms. "Get over here!" she whisper-shouts.

I make an unmanly sound and throw my arms around her, fighting back tears but in a good way for once. "I'm so happy! I am so damn happy, Eileen!"

"Oh, Danny, I'm so proud of you!" She pulls back and takes me by the shoulders. "Nothing makes me happier than seeing a student smile like that."

"And knowing that you caused it?"

Eileen hems and haws then wiggles her fingers toward me. "There's a little ego involved, yes."

I laugh. "That's exactly how I feel when I help someone in need."

"Kid, that is so corny."

I laugh again. "But, seriously. This only happened because of you. I don't know how to thank you."

She pats me on the shoulder. "Just promise you won't send your duplicate to school in your place."

"I could do that?"

Her mouth falls open when realizes what she'd just put in my head. "Uh…no?"

I point to her and grin. "But, you said you retain your copy's memories, so technically-"

"Don't do it." Stern teacher voice on her end.

A louder laugh on mine. "I'm just kidding. Well, half-kidding."

Suddenly, there is a random beeping sound that's steadily getting faster and louder. We turn toward it, and my good mood shatters.

"Um, what are you guys doing here?" I ask when my parents see us and approach, my dad carrying a small cubic…beeping thing.

"We got a warrant, so we're free to roam around, searching for ghosts," Dad announces proudly.

"There's been more and more ecto-activity going on around here," Mom says. She pats my cheek. "Don't mind us, hun. We're just making sure everything's safe."

Eileen points to Dad's machine. "What is that thing?"

"This baby tells us when a ghost is using its powers," Dad explains. "Even if the ghost turns invisible or camouflages itself some other way, we'll know it's there."

He and Mom study the machine as it beeps faster and faster…the closer it gets to Eileen. My parents hum and stare at her with narrowed eyes. Eileen stares back with a strained smile. Thinking fast, I put my hands behind my back and channel some energy into them. Dad moves the still-beeping device toward me, and he and Mom frown at it.

"It must need recalibrated," Mom mutters.

Neither of them see the tension leave my and Eileen's bodies when Dad switches off the device.

Eileen clears her throat. "Honestly, I think you two are being paranoid. There are no ghosts at this school. Why don't you just call it a day?"

"Not until this school is free of any trace of ectoplasm," Mom states.

Eileen blinks in confusion then presses her hands together and points them at my parents. "I really think you should go home, because this place is perfectly safe."

"And, we're here to make sure of that," Dad says.

Eileen's eyes widen, and I realize that she was trying to compel them. Why didn't it work? Suddenly, I spot the odd-looking green earpieces they're wearing. "Uh, Mom, Dad? What are those?" I ask, pointing to the earpieces and hoping I'm wrong.

Mom cups her ear. "These? We finally got around to making replacement Fenton Phones."

Replacements for the ones the team and I…borrowed and never gave back.

"And, Fenton Phones are…?" Eileen asks.

"A little something that filters out ghost frequencies," Dad explains. "Basically, if a ghost tries to hypnotize us, it's in for a rude awakening."

"In other words, if a ghost tried to, let's say, compel you to do something, you wouldn't be affected?"

Dad points a finger gun at her. "Bingo!"

Good mood officially out the window. "You know, now that I think about it, I might have seen something weird," I fib. "There might be a ghost on the second floor."

My parents thank me and set off to investigate. I've just sent a huge disruption to those classes, but at the moment, I don't care.

"Okay," Eileen says once the coast is clear. "That was way too close."

"I'm so sorry," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "This is my fault. I've been using Duplication during school hours, and that's probably what their dumb sensors picked up."

Eileen shakes her head. "Danny, don't forget that I'm not exactly human. They came here looking for ghosts long before you got good at Duplication." When this doesn't reassure me, she slices her hands in front of her. "Look. Forget them. Focus on the good. I saw your duplicate, and I liked what I saw. Like I said, I'm real proud of you, kid. And, I bet Lawrence is too, even if he won't tell you himself."

Heat creeps over my face. "You sent the Box Ghost here, didn't you?"

She flips her hair with a smug grin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"What do you mean 'last session?'"

"Exactly what I said, Danny."

As soon as we'd arrived at the warehouse and meditated for thirty minutes, Eileen had dropped a bomb that I didn't know would be a bomb. I'd gotten so used to our after-school meetings that I'd forgotten they were only until I mastered Duplication.

"Your copy today was flawless, Danny," Eileen praises. "We'll have one more practice session, but there's really nothing else to teach you."

"But, that was just one active copy," I argue. "I can make three at a time."

"And, now that one can mimic you so perfectly, the others will too. If you don't believe me, throw out three of them during battle, and you'll see what I mean."

I'm not going to tell her that I spent the remainder of lunch period exchanging quips with three copies as a test. I try to think of some counterargument, only to see the sly grin on Eileen's off-white face. "What's that look for?"

"You like our little meetings, don't you?"

I feel a cold blush spread over my cheeks and rub the back of my neck. "I mean…yeah. I just…like hanging out with you. Oh, wow. I actually want to hang out with my teacher. Is that weird?"

Eileen chuckles. "Of course not. I like you too. Nothing says this is the last time we have to hang out, you know."

"Really?"

Eileen grins and shakes her head. "Come on, kid. Sure, a teacher palling around with her sixteen-year-old student might look a little odd, but who says two random ghosts can't be friends?"

I duck my head and smile. "You mean that?"

She ruffles my white hair. "Sure I do. And besides, it's not like I don't see you at school every day."

"I know, but at school I have to pretend I don't care." Just then, my Ghost Sense goes off. A moment later, Box Ghost phases in through the wall. "What's up, Larry Berry?"

Box Ghost glares at me, and Eileen rolls her eyes (I think) and says, "Danny, will you stop with the nicknames? You know he hates them."

"Okay, I'll stop," I promise. "Just as soon as I run out of Larry puns."

They both sigh. Then, Box Ghost says to me, "Phantom, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Curious now, I glance at Eileen, who shrugs and phases outside. So, she doesn't know what this is about either. Box Ghost is knocking his fingers together almost shyly, and that's unusual for a guy who finds every opportunity to scream "beware" at the top of his lungs.

"Problem?" I ask.

"Uh, not for me… Look, I just wanna do this before I lose my nerve, okay?" Box Ghost plants his feet on the ground in front of me. I don't think I've ever seen him not float unless I've already knocked him to the ground. I forgot that I'm taller than him. "It's just… This is kind of awkward because we don't really like each other."

"I'm with you so far," I say, hoping he'll get to the point.

He fingers the strap of his overalls. "See, I've been thinking about what your parents were saying about you." My hands curl into fists at my sides. I struggle not to yell at him to shut up because I'm definitely fine. "I know we're not friends, but…you're a kid, you know?"

"I'm sixteen," I say, my voice slightly strained. "Not six."

Box Ghost shrugs. "Still counts. I'll cut to the chase. I know you probably still live with your parents, being part-human and all, right?" I nod. "And, I know they don't know you're a ghost, but it still," he scratches the back of his head, "doesn't sit well. Leaving a kid with people who could hurt him or worse."

I'm floored. The Box Ghost - the motherfreaking Box Ghost - actually sounds like he…cares? About me ? Eileen, sure. Mira and her parents, fine. But, one of my enemies? I have to be misinterpreting this.

Box Ghost goes on, sounding less nervous the more he speaks. "That's why…" He spreads his arms out in a bow. "I'm offering you my Haunt, Phantom."

My brain shuts down.

"I'm not giving it to you. It is mine ! But, if you need to get away…you can come here. It'll be like-like neutral ground for us."

The Box Ghost just offered his Haunt - his Haunt - as a safe haven. For me , the guy who does nothing but beat him up. Not that he never deserves it, but still.

He's staring at me with a sincerity he's never directed at me before, waiting for my response. When my brain restarts, I give him one. "Why? You said it yourself. We aren't friends. All I do is hit you and call you names! I'll admit that my house isn't always the safest place for me, but why would you care?"

He ducks his head, playing with the other strap. "Well, like I said, you're a kid. Hey, I may be a jerk, but I have some standards."

"I have a lair, Larry." Ha ha. Lair Larry. Or, should it be Larry Lair?

If Box Ghost catches my lapse in focus, he doesn't comment on it. He just narrows his eyes at the name before letting it go. "I figured, but this would be more convenient. I assume. I don't know where your lair is."

Be cool, Danny. Be cool. "Boxy, I appreciate the offer, but I'm totally fine. I've been doing this for two years. I've got it all figured out."

Box Ghost frowns and clicks his tongue. "Well, if you change your mind, the offer's on the table."

I just nod, pretending that I'm not reeling from this. Am I really so bad off that even my enemies want to protect me?

Chapter Text

" If you have a problem with me, call me. If you don't have my number, then that means you don't know me well enough to have a problem." - Unknown

"Larry Poppins offered his Haunt to me." That had been my answer when I came home last night, looking God knows how awful, and Jazz asked what was wrong.

Her response was a bemused, "You have got to stop speaking in code, little brother."

I didn't tell her what my "code" meant. I just shrugged and put on the same smile I'd worn through training. When my training partners didn't buy it, I just said I was bummed that it was the last session. To which, Mira had playfully punched my shoulder and said that she'd train with me any time. Eileen gave me a look like she knew I was full of it, but she didn't ask questions. Only the Box Ghost knew what was up.

I ponder my talk with him as I eat my cereal without tasting. Sure, sometimes there's some ghost detector or repellent or whatever, but I can avoid that stuff for the most part. The stuff I can't avoid is usually pretty harmless. And, it's not like Mom and Dad are abusive. Even when I've let them down, I've never once felt unwanted by them.

Of course, that only applies to Danny Fenton .

A traitorous voice reminds me that I'm only safe as long as Mom and Dad don't know I'm a ghost. Even then, I could easily end up strapped to a table and vivisected one day. Maybe I'd transform into a human in the middle of it, and they'd see just how badly they screwed up. Or, maybe they'd become even more interested and just keep digging into me.

My appetite vanishes, not that it was there to begin with. Maybe I should take up Boxy's offer after all.

"Danny?" Jazz says, setting her spoon back into her own bowl. "Don't tell me you're okay. You weren't last night, and you aren't now."

No. I'm not. "I'm fine, Jazz. I'd tell you if I wasn't."

Jazz sighs in defeat. "Something's been on your mind for a while, and I don't think it's the black eyes thing."

My head shoots up. "Has that happened again?"

Jazz shakes her head. "Not that I've seen. But, you implied that that was what was troubling you, and I don't think that's it."

I get up to empty my bowl and put it in the sink so she can't see my face. "It's just ghost stuff. If I didn't think I could handle it, I'd say something."

"Alright," Jazz says, barely pacified.

Our parents come into the kitchen, fully equipped and ready for ghosts. Going out on patrol? They look pretty serious for just a routine patrol. Some call about a ghost, maybe? Must not be close by or else my Ghost Sense would have gone off.

"Danny," Dad says, "your mother and I were talking, and we don't think you should go to school today."

Um, excuse me? If it weren't for his and Mom's expressions and my own gut-feeling, I'd be totally fine with that. "Uh, why not?" I ask. "Is something wrong?"

"We staked out Casper High up and down yesterday," Mom explains. "We didn't find the ghost you mentioned," because it didn't exist, "but we did detect high levels of ghostly activity."

"But, there have been ghosts at Casper before," Jazz points out. "What makes this time any different?"

"Because the readings indicated that there's been a high concentration of ecto-energy for a while. Maybe as far back as the beginning of the school year."

Eileen. She's been using her Shapeshifting for the entirety of every single school day. And, I know she uses Compulsion on occasion. And, Duplication at the end of the day. I've been letting off some energy by using my own Duplication more often, but that can't hold a candle to how much Eileen must be putting out.

I spy the Fenton Ghost Peeler on Dad's belt.

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing," I say with forced nonchalance.

When my parents start to argue, Jazz cuts in. "Alright. Let's assume there is a ghost at Casper High. How do you know it's looking for trouble? Maybe it's just, I don't know, hanging around and wants to be left alone."

"Jazzypants," Dad says, "we know you like to see the best in people, and that's not a bad thing, but don't forget all the problems this town's had since ghosts became public knowledge."

"Now that they've stopped trying to hide," Mom adds, "they've also stopped limiting themselves. Who knows what could happen if this ghost is left unchecked."

I can't keep listening to this. Not when Eileen's safety is at risk. "But, what about Danny Phantom? When those ghosts captured me and Ms. Mae, Phantom came to help us. I'm your son ." I fight to keep my voice steady and brace myself against the counter so my hands won't shake. "Surely, it means something that he tried to save me and my teacher."

My parents' eyes soften. "Sweetheart," Mom says. She reaches for me, but I step away and try not to feel guilty at her flash of hurt. "Your father and I weren't there, so we may not know exactly what happened. But, if Phantom truly was trying to help you, why was he first to leave when we showed up?"

I can't answer, no matter how much I want to. Stupid, stupid, stupid ! I shouldn't have removed my copy so soon!

"I'm sure Phantom had a good reason," Jazz pleads.

"The only reason would be that he had a hand in their capture," Dad argues.

Something inside me snaps. "Oh, so because someone's a ghost, they can't be a decent person? Danny Phantom looks after this town day in and day out and asks for nothing in return, yet he's clearly evil ? Does that make any sense?" I'm slowly raising my voice. My family is stunned because I don't act this way. I don't care. "He is living proof that ghosts don't have to be bad ! What if- What if I was a ghost?" My parents flinch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jazz's face go pale. I lower my voice for her sake and hers alone. "What if I died and became a ghost? Would you still hunt me down?" Now, Mom and Dad's face are white and horrified. But, they don't answer. Do they even have an answer? Tears sting my eyes and tint my vision green as the fight drains from me, but I refuse to let them fall. I toss my hands at my sides. "Of course you would. It doesn't matter who I am-"

Suddenly, I notice Jazz gritting her teeth and pointing frantically at her eyes. And, I realize why everything looks green. Human tears don't do that.

Are my eyes glowing? Are they black? Who cares because Mom and Dad can see it ! My pulse races as Mom and Dad's shock is replaced by a carefully concealed fury and oh my God I need to get out of here!

"I-I-I'm so sorry I yelled," I stammer, swiping at my eyes and inching away as Dad slowly lowers his hand toward the Ghost Peeler. "You know, you're right. It's not safe to go to school. Maybe I'll…check out that new pizza place! All the way on the other side of town. That's a great idea! Bye!"

I hear Jazz trying to stop our parents as I bolt from the kitchen and phase through the front door. Why should I use the knob like a human? Mom and Dad already know I'm something else.

I duck into an alley and switch to my ghost-form before taking invisible flight. My visibility doesn't matter if Mom and Dad still have the machine that detects the use of ghost powers, but better safe than sorry.

I need to get to school and warn Eileen. There's no way my parents believe that I'm going to get pizza when I just had breakfast. Even if they do go there first, the way my dad drives, they could be at school before the homeroom bell rings. Jazz can only hold them off for so long.

I launch myself behind the school hard enough to form a small crater upon landing. I switch forms and run around the building and see that the courtyard is full of students, including Tucker and Sam, and faculty just getting in. That's good, right? Surely, Mom and Dad wouldn't cause a scene-

Oh, who am I kidding?

I see Eileen in her human disguise walking up to the entrance and I sprint to her. Screw subtlety. There's no time.

She yelps out my name when I grab her by the arms. "We gotta get out of here."

"Danny," she tries to break free, but my panic has me holding strong, "what are you doing? People are staring."

And, that is the only reason I lower my voice to barely a whisper. "My parents saw my eyes change." Eileen's own eyes get bigger, and I feel her tense up.

Sam and Tucker run up to us. "Dude, what's going on?" Tucker asks when they get closer.

Should I tell them? Would that put them in danger? How could I explain why I need Ms. Mae to get away without revealing her secret?

Eileen gently pushes me off of her while I'm distracted. Her voice is calm as she addresses the onlookers. "Return to what you were doing. Nothing to see here."

And just like that, we are no longer a spectacle. I wonder how far her Compulsion can stretch.

"Will you teach me to do that?" Sam asks.

"Me, too," Tucker says.

Eileen didn't compel them? Of course she didn't, I think. She knows I trust them. Still, I wish they didn't have to get involved in this. But, I also know that they, especially Sam, would kill me the rest of the way for not telling them.

"Long story short," I hiss, "my parents know I'm a ghost." When my friends cast fearful looks at Eileen, I add, "And, Ms. Mae found out yesterday."

"Saw him change," Eileen says. It's not a lie.

They hum in acknowledgement, then Tuckers asks, "Is it that bad?"

Ssscccrrrreeeeeccchhhh!

"I don't think it's that good," Sam says.

Thanks to my father's driving skills, if you can call them that, the GAV stopped in front of the school in record time. My stomach drops as my parents leap out of the vehicle and burst into the courtyard. We're a spectacle again, but when I see the flashes of green metal in my parents' ears, I know Eileen won't be able to compel us out of this one.

Obsession takes over and I step forward. "Get Ms. Mae out of here," I command softly. "I'll keep my parents busy."

"Shouldn't we get you out of here?" Tucker asks.

"No time to explain. Just go." I hear their footsteps despite Eileen's protests, and I can breathe the tiniest bit easier because of it.

My parents stop a safe distance from me, and Mom spreads her arms out to her sides. "Everyone stand back. That boy over there isn't what he seems."

I hold up my shaking hands placatingly. "Look, I don't know what you saw, but I'm sure I can explain it."

"Oh? You can explain how human eyes are capable of turning completely black out of nowhere and can conjure up tears that are obviously made of ectoplasm?"

"I…plead the Fifth?" I say stupidly.

Meanwhile, everyone around me starts whispering, and I struggle to stay on my feet. Is this it? Is this how my secret identity is revealed? Surrounded by my peers who are indifferent to me at best and downright malicious at worst? By the ones who are supposed to love me no matter what? I hope Sam, Tucker, and Eileen are far away from here by now.

A light blue car pulls up behind the GAV. Jazz's car. My sister jumps out of it and runs into the court, calling my name.

Dad holds an arm out to stop her. "That's not your brother, Jasmine." He never uses her real name. His normally cheerful face is twisted into an ugly rage as he shouts at me, "How long have you been impersonating our son?"

"And, what have you done with the real Danny?" Mom demands, pulling a small ray gun off her belt and taking aim.

They think I'm a ghost who's impersonating their son. I don't know if that's better than them knowing the truth or worse. Actually, it's definitely worse. If they think I'm a stranger, then they are guaranteed to do horrible things to me.

Dad whips the Ghost Peeler off his belt, the updated one that doesn't waste time forming a robotic exoskeleton over its wielder. Jazz grabs his arm and begs, "Stop! Please! You're causing a scene. I'm sure there's a rational explanation for all of this."

Mom pulls Jazz off of him and holds her back as she struggles. "It's okay, sweetie. We'll get this sorted out. Jack?"

Dad needs no further instruction. He aims the Ghost Peeler. At me.

I should move. I should run. Fly away. Phase through the ground. Something . But, I'm paralyzed. My parents have attacked my ghost-form plenty of times, and that's scary enough.

Now they're attacking my human-form, and it's all kinds of wrong.

Jazz, Sam, and Tucker scream my name as Dad presses a button. A blue light emanates from the device-

Something slams into me, sending me rolling over the grass. A scream follows.

My core wails in my chest.

Dad sees his mistake and almost turns off the Ghost Peeler. Mom stops him, releasing Jazz and pointing at what the blast from the device is still hitting. In my place stands a black woman who's screaming in pain. Cracks form over her skin, her clothes, every part of her. The lairs of her disguise peel away, revealing an incredibly thin ghost with off-white skin, a flowing gray dress, and long, long black hair.

The Ghost Peeler deactivates automatically, its job complete. Eileen collapses on to her stomach. The courtyard is silent except for my father's startled, "She's a ghost? I mean, she's a ghost! I knew it!"

"Uh…" Eileen drawls groggily. She grins, the kind you show when you're cornered and on the verge of a panic attack. "Class dismissed?"

Then the whispering restarts, only it's not about me this time. Students and faculty gather closer, muttering their surprise, their fear. "Ms. Mae's a ghost?" "Whoa, she's really a ghost?" "Check it out. She's a ghost!"

It should be me lying prone in the grass and being gawked at. Instead, Eileen pushed me out of the line of fire, and now she's the one whose cover is blown. I shouldn't have come here. I should have just left town, maybe gone to the warehouse or even flown to Nebraska and stayed with Mira and her family. Better yet, I should have circled back to the Ghost Portal once my parents left the house and fled to the Ghost Zone. Now, Eileen has been exposed, and it's all my fault.

When Tucker and Sam run to my side to help me up, Tucker says weakly, "We tried to stop her. She…phased through us."

"Danny," Sam says, slightly accusing, "didn't you tell us she wasn't a ghost?"

And now, I feel even worse. "She wasn't ready to tell anyone. I promised I'd keep her secret. She isn't bad."

As if to prove that, Eileen props herself up on her elbows, still weakened by the Ghost Peeler, and says, "Danny's not a ghost. He's been around me so much that he must have picked up some of my energy."

No…

"You contaminated our son?" Mom snarls. "And, who knows what you've done to the other students!"

"Nothing!" Eileen pleads. "I would never hurt a student! All I wanna do is teach!" Her voice is shaking. She tries to pull herself up further, but she's still too weak. "But, if that's a problem, I'll go without a fight."

"No!" I shout, my core still screaming for me to help her.

I start to run for her, but Eileen stops me with a firm look. "It's okay, Danny. This was bound to happen eventually."

My heart breaks at the grim acceptance in her eyes. Damn the consequences. Damn the people around us. Damn everything but the woman who shared her death with me and held me when I cried and helped me perfect my powers just because she wanted to.

"No." I sprint into the fray and stand between Eileen and my parents, the latter blinking in shock at my actions. "No, you won't touch her."

My mother is the first to recover. "Danny, we're sorry we accused you. We shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, and we'll talk about it later. But, for now you have to get out of the way-"

"So you can waste her?" I snap. "So you can punish her for existing? She did nothing wrong!"

"Danny, your eyes are glowing now," Dad points out. "Anyone can see that you've been contaminated-"

I throw out my arms in frustration. "Well then I enjoy being contaminated! I don't care that she's a ghost! She is gentle and kind and supportive-"

I feel a slight tug on my pant leg. Eileen looks up at me pleadingly. "Danny, stop. This is only going to make things worse."

Mom points her ray gun. "Don't touch my son," she growls.

I step in the way. "She can touch me wherever she wants. That came out wrong, but you know what I mean."

"Danny," Dad says carefully, "if you're as contaminated as you seem to be, then she's obviously done something to you."

Your Ghost Portal did something to me, I want to say. But, I hold my tongue. Not here. Not like this.

"Once we take care of this ghost," Mom says, "we'll take you home and get you fixed up. For now, we need you to get out of the line of fire."

This is going nowhere. Nothing short of going ghost right in front of everyone will get them to stop. Even if I do that, Lord knows what would happen next.

Unless I… Yes. Yes, that could work. Please let it work.

"I don't care what you think," I say. "You may hate ghosts, but I don't. Not since Danny Phantom came around and showed me that ghosts don't have to be evil."

It's working. All around me, people start murmuring their agreements and catching my parents off-guard. Spurred on by this, I keep going, letting a faint but familiar tingle run over my skin.

"I've been biting my tongue for the past two years, and I'm sick of it."

"What's happening?" Jazz blurts, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists over her chest.

"Dying doesn't make a person evil. If someone becomes a vengeful ghost , it's because they were already a jerk and just became a jerk with superpowers. Good people can and will use their powers for good. How can you not see that by now?"

"That's enough, Fenton Jr.." The voice comes from above me. My voice but not quite.

Paulina gasps and points up at the sky. "It's the ghost boy!"

Close enough.

I fight a triumphant grin as my duplicate descends in front of me and gives me a smug but secretive grin. "I'll take it from here." I nod and step back to help Eileen to her "feet."

"What are you doing?" she whispers, fighting a grateful smile.

"Just applying what I've learned," I reply, and her eyes fill with tears.

"At ease, Fentons," my copy says when my parents take aim.

Jazz touches Mom's shoulder and says with barely concealed pride, "I think we should hear what Phantom has to say." My parents glance at each other then reluctantly lower their weapons.

My copy looks around at the people surrounding us, who are waiting for "me" to speak. The majority of them trust me. They know I protect the innocent. If I'm protecting Eileen, they have to realize that she's a good person.

When my copy finally speaks, even my parents listen. "I know you're all scared, confused. But, I promise you that this ghost has no ill intentions. She was a dedicated teacher in life, and she isn't letting her death change that. She loves her students, myself included."

Someone pipes up, "Was she your teacher when you were alive?"

My copy pauses at that then recovers. "Actually, she helped me with my powers. In fact," I bet the story forming in its mind is the same one forming in my own, "she was one of the first ghosts I met when I died. And, she showed me that ghosts could be good, kind people. I owe a lot to this woman, and I'm not going to let anyone hurt her."

My copy's tone is calm, sure. It doesn't raise its voice at all, but that voice carries. The words spoken are honest and passionate. It takes a moment to register that, though I'm not physically the one speaking, it's still my voice, my thoughts. I'm no stranger to public speaking when it's something I care about and need people to hear, but I've never actually seen myself in action.

I’m good. I’m really good.

When it's clear that my copy has said its - my - piece, Sam speaks up with a tentative smile. "I mean, she's got Danny Phantom's approval."

"How bad can she be?" Tucker adds.

Paulina grins. "If the ghost boy likes her, then she can't be bad at all!"

"I have to admit," Dash says, "I kind of respect Ms. Mae. I don't like her because she gives me detention. But, having a teacher actually punish me is…weirdly refreshing."

My turn now. "And, thanks to Ms. Mae's tutoring, my grade point average is up to a B. Not too shabby, considering what it was."

"And, we're proud of you for that, hun," Mom says. "But, what was all that at the old warehouse? If these ghosts are so nice, explain why they brought you there."

Crap. I'd hoped they'd forgotten about that. "That was…"

"A training exercise that got out of hand," my copy explains, coming up with the same half-baked excuse that I did. "But, no one got hurt, so bygones and stuff."

I point to my copy. "What he said."

"Look," my copy goes on to everyone, "your teacher may be a ghost, but that doesn't mean she's out to hurt anyone. She's been like a-" Mother, it almost says. I realize with a pang that it's true. My copy's voice shakes, and I know mine would too. "She's someone I can count on." It clears its throat. "And, I know I'm not the only one who feels that way."

Eileen puts her hand over her mouth, crying softly as students start talking about how patient she is with them. How she stands up for them. How she's always there when they need to talk. It starts out quiet then gets louder and louder until my parents are shrinking back at the sea of voices telling them to leave Ms. Mae alone.

My core calms to a gentle hum. A smug smile pulls at my lips at my parents' defeat. "You came here hoping to take down a ghost. Are you prepared to take down all of us?"

Finally relenting, Mom and Dad put their weapons away. "No, we can't fight kids," Dad says. Then he turns a hopeful grin at Mom. "Can we?"

Mom glares at him. "No, Jack." Mom looks out at the crowd, who quiet down at the relent. "You're all serious? You're okay with having a ghost at school with you? Even you, Danny? We thought you were afraid of ghosts."

"I was. I'm not anymore." It's the most true thing I've said to them in a while.

Someone clears their throat. Principal Ishiyama steps forward, and I, my copy, and Eileen all freeze up. The principal is known for her poker face, and now is no exception. There's a knot in my stomach as we all wait for her to speak. "While we will certainly be discussing this," Eileen ducks her head in shame, and my copy and I reach for her hands, "it is true that Ms. Mae, or whatever her name is, has never given us any trouble at this school. And, no one can argue with such a glowing review from Danny Phantom. So, unless anything…untoward happens, I see no reason why she can't continue her duties at this school."

Cheers break out. Eileen starts to collapse with relief, but my copy and I catch her in a group hug which she graciously returns. "I'm so proud of you," she whispers tearfully. We snuggle against her.

When the principal calls for everyone to quiet down, Eileen swipes at her cheeks and speaks up. "Thank you. Just… thank you . And, um, well, first of all, my name is actually Ms. Merryweather. But, that's a bit of a mouthful, so Ms. Mae is fine." To my surprise, she shifts into her human disguise. "And, this form might be a little less distracting in class."

"That's what you think," Tucker calls out. He waves finger guns at her and goes, "Ha cha cha !" When no one reacts, he scowls. "Oh, I know I'm not the only one who thinks she's hot." He is pacified when the boys and a girl or two mumble their agreements.

"Alright, alright," the principal says. "Show's over." The bell rings, and she sweeps her hands toward the building. "Everyone to your homerooms. Including you, Ms….Mae."

Students and faculty alike bustle into the building, talking excitedly. Word about this will be all over the school by first period. And, the news tomorrow.

I remain standing as adrenaline wears off and everything crashes over me. I mentally tell my duplicate to fly away and disappear where no one can see it. Danny Phantom isn't needed right now.

"Danny?" Jazz rests her hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

No, but I nod anyway. "You should get to school, yourself. You're late."

She kisses my cheek. "It's worth it."

As she walks away, Eileen takes her place, wrapping me in a side hug and rubbing my arm. Cold, familiar, safe. I throw my arms around my torso and lean my head on her shoulder. My parents are right here. I don't look at them.

"I really owe you," Eileen says.

"No, you don't," I argue.

She laughs and pats my back. "Your friends are waiting for you, kid. Let's go face the music."

I watch as she walks toward the entrance and uses the door like a human. Habit? Or, is she still trying to blend in despite everything?

My parents reach for me, but I fast-walk away from them. Sam and Tucker are waiting for me at the entrance. No accusation, no betrayal over the fact that I kept such a big secret from them. They each put an arm around my shoulders and lead me into the building, not mentioning the tears on my face.

Chapter Text

" Before you 'assume,' try this crazy method called 'asking.'" - Unknown

Homeroom was…interesting. Poor Eileen could barely take roll. Half the students were throwing questions at her. The other half were too afraid to even look at her. When the cracks in Eileen's professional facade were starting to show, I found myself on the verge of throttling the nearest person.

Then, the room's temperature dropped to the point that everyone could see their breath, and they shut up instantly. They thought Eileen had done that. I felt guilty for losing control until Eileen snuck me a grateful look. I don't know why she couldn't have just compelled them to be quiet.

Maybe she's afraid to use her powers now.

I spend the whole morning in a daze, chomping at the bit to talk to Eileen. When lunch rolls around and I don't see her - Now that her secret's out, why should she pretend to need food? - I bail on Sam and Tucker, promising to tell them everything after school, and search for my teacher. I peek into the window of her classroom and find her in her human disguise. She is sitting at her desk and talking to- Oh no.

I turn invisible and poke my head through the wall to listen, ready to spring into action if this goes south.

"So, the rumors are true?" Valerie asks too calmly.

Eileen nods, her hands folded on her desk. "I am a ghost, yes."

Valerie Gray has been hunting ghosts since they destroyed the place her dad used to work and cost the man his job. (Partially my fault, mostly the dog-ghost's fault.) She ended up getting some pretty solid ghost-hunting equipment from Vlad, and now she tries to protect the town from ghosts like I do. The difference, however, is that she, like my parents, will attack any and all ghosts on sight.

Valerie leans her hands on Eileen's desk with narrowed, suspicious green eyes. Eileen shrinks back at the intensity of her gaze. "Listen here, ghost," Valerie growls. "Just because some people don't mind having one of you ," she says the word like a curse, "in this school doesn't mean all of us trust you. You make one wrong move, and somebody's gonna do something about it. You may not be one of my teachers," and thank God for small miracles, "but I've got my eye on you. You understand me?"

Have I mentioned that I almost dated her once? Or that we still get along when I'm Fenton? Yeah…

It takes Eileen a moment to recover. When she does, she makes sure to keep it cool. "Valerie, was it? I know the risk I'm taking, and I know that not everyone is as okay with me as they pretend. But, I promise you that I mean no harm. I'll do everything I can to prove that."

Valerie hums, unconvinced, but says no more.

When she's gone, Eileen lays back in her chair, stares up at the ceiling, and blows out a relieved breath.

It's my fault she has to put up with this. "Eileen?" I say.

Eileen doesn't look at me, not that she could see me anyway, and points to the ceiling. "Roof," she says.

Once I figure out what that means, I thank the copy, go ghost, and fly up to the roof. Sure enough, Eileen is sitting in the center of it, meditating in her natural state. Everyone thinks her human disguise is hot - and admittedly, it kind of is - but I like this Eileen better.

"Eileen?" I say, not sure if I should interrupt her. But, she opens her eyes and gives me a forced smile. She pats the space next to her, and I sit with her. "You okay?"

"Let's just say that I'm glad you didn't come up here two minutes sooner," she says. "I used a lot of swear words."

Any other time, that might get a chuckle out of me. "I'm sorry," I say, my voice breaking. "I led them right to you-"

"Danny, no." She pulls me to her, a real hug instead of the side one I'd gotten used to receiving from her. I return it, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You didn't do anything wrong. With those two snooping around, one of us was going to be caught eventually. I'm just glad it wasn't you."

I hold her tighter and bury my face in the crook of her neck. "It was supposed to be."

"And, I chose to prevent that. I don't want you blaming yourself for this."

She says that, but it doesn't stop me from feeling horrible.

"And, maybe it won't be so bad," Eileen says. "I mean, I'm an old friend of Danny Phantom now. And, the Witch Trials are a thing of the past. Maybe I'll even scream, 'I'm gay,' at the top of my lungs!"

"You're really scared, aren't you?"

"Oh, fuck yes." We both burst out laughing, and man, it feels good. We pull away, and Eileen shakes her head. "Never tell anyone I dropped an F-bomb in front of a minor." I mime zipping my lips. We sit in companionable silence for a while. Then, "You gonna be okay when you get home?"

"I'll manage," I say, hoping she can't tell that she's not the only one who's scared.

When the bell rings, Eileen says, "We should get to class."

Yes, we should … "Can we send our duplicates to class for us?"

Eileen glares at me then smiles softly. "Just for this period."

We stay up there until the final bell.

Sam, Tucker, and I meet up behind the school, where I finally come clean about Eileen. I tell them that she was a teacher in the 1600s and that teaching is her Obsession now. I tell them that our tutoring sessions were for my Duplication. I tell them that we bonded over it, though I guess that part goes without saying.

I don't tell them anything about Eileen's previous life beyond the teacher thing. That's not for me to share. I also downplay just how close I feel to Eileen, simply calling her a friend. If Sam and Tucker find out that I've started viewing Eileen as a maternal figure, there will be a lot of questions I don't know how to answer. I don't mention the Box Ghost offering me his Haunt for protection either. That would raise even more questions.

When I'm finished saying as much as I'm comfortable with, Tucker lets out a low whistle. "That's a whole thing, isn't it?"

"That's one way to put it," I say.

"You think Ms. Mae will be alright?" Sam asks. "Or, Eileen? Or, whatever?"

"I think once the shock wears off, it'll be okay. We might have to keep an eye on Valerie, though. But other than that," I puff out my chest and throw on a cocky grin, "who could hate a friend of Danny Phantom?"

Sam rolls her eyes fondly.

Tucker frowns at me. "What about your folks? What'll they say about all this?"

Anxiety swirls in my stomach. "I don't know." I rub the back of my neck. "To be honest, I'm not looking forward to going home."

"You want us to come with you?" Sam asks.

I have the best friends ever. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. I just need to get my thoughts together."

"Man, you look like you've had a day," Box Ghost comments when he finds me in human-form in his Haunt, lying on my stomach and trying to do my homework but not really focusing.

"You could say that, Lawrence." I'm telling myself that I'm only using his real name because I ran out of Larry puns. Giving up on math for the time being, I raise myself to my knees. "Did Eileen tell you what happened at school today?"

Box Ghost shakes his head and sits cross-legged in front of me. "I'm guessing it wasn't something good."

Should I tell him? He's friends with Eileen, so he'll probably find out. "Eileen got outed as a ghost."

" What ?"

"It's okay," I say when he looks like he's going to shake me down for details. "She still has a job. Everyone just needs to get used to her. She'll be okay."

Box Ghost calms only slightly. "I hope so. How did it happen?"

This place may be "neutral ground" now, but Boxy and I aren't that close. "There was…an incident. Involving ghost hunters."

His dark red eyes soften. "Your parents?"

I shouldn't have mentioned ghost hunters. "Let's just say that I'm here because I'm not ready to go home."

Box Ghost hums in understanding. Then, he levitates. "Well, stay as long as you want. But, do not touch the boxes over there!" He points very seriously to a stack of boxes in the corner of the room. "They are brand new, and you will feel my wrath if even a single corner is out of place!"

They just look like a bunch of cardboard boxes, but I give the man a salute. He has his Obsession, and I have mine.

I'm not stalling when I call Mira while flying home. She would want to know what happened, too.

" So, it's okay then? " she asks.

"Seems to be," I say. "People just need to get used to the idea."

" Yeah, that's how it was when Bridget first saw me as a ghost. " Bridget is her best friend, the first non-family member to learn Mira was back from the dead, so to speak. " And, don't get me started on when I finally revealed myself to the rest of town. But, things are good now. Mostly. Bigots, you know? " Boy, do I. " Maybe I'll call Eileen myself and check on her. "

"She'll like that."

" So, have you talked to your parents yet? "

"I may or may not be putting that off as much as I can."

" I don't blame you, dude. I don't blame you. "

We talk a little longer before I decide that I can't put this off forever. I find a place to change back into a human and walk the rest of the way. Okay, I can't put it off forever, but I can wait a little bit longer. It's dark by the time I make it to my front door. I stand there for a minute before biting the bullet.

When I walk into my living room and throw my backpack on the couch, Jazz ambushes me. She is holding a small plastic container and a spoon. The container is empty but looks like it used to hold…salsa? "Danny, where were you? You wouldn't answer your phone and Sam and Tucker didn't know where you were and-"

I raise my hands. "Okay, before anything else, I gotta know." I point to the container. "Were you eating salsa by the spoonful?"

"I'm stressed out, it was there, and I'm not old enough for alcohol."

"Got it." I sigh, hating how much I've worried her. "I'm sorry, Jazz. I just- I just really needed to get my head on straight."

Jazz absentmindedly stirs her container. "I figured. It's just…with how you've been lately, and after this morning, I-I didn't know what to think."

"I should have called you," I lament. "I should have talked to you before all of this, but-but you're always putting up with my shit, and…and I just…" I blink away tears, unable to go on.

Jazz smiles sadly and strokes my cheek. "I'm your sister, Danny. I don't put up with you- Well, maybe sometimes." A breathy chuckle escapes me. "I love you. I'm here for you because I love you."

"That's why you picked AU, isn't it?" I regret the question as soon as I see the confusion on Jazz's face. But now that it's out, I can't take it back. "You picked Amity University so-so you could stay with me."

Jazz blinks a few times, stunned. "Danny, I-"

"But, now that I…am doing better in school," I amend in case Mom and Dad are close enough to hear, "I don't have to hold you back anymore."

"What? Danny, you're not-"

"You can transfer to a better school. Like, Yale or Stanford. I know Amity's not your only scholarship."

"But-"

"You can go somewhere far away from ghosts and danger and my-my stupid problems-"

"Daniel James Fenton!" Jazz drops the spoon and container in favor of grabbing my shoulders. The hurt on her face makes me feel infinitely worse. "I didn't pick Amity because of you. I picked Amity because I picked Amity . And, you are not holding me back! Ever since I learned about your…bullying problem," translation: ghost powers, "I've started being braver, tougher, more open-minded. You didn't hold me back from anything, little brother. You made me better."

The tears I'd been holding back trickle down my cheeks. "I did?"

Her own eyes are misty as she pulls me in. "You did."

I return the embrace and press my eyes to her shoulder. "I love you, Jazzie."

"I love you too. Don't ever hide how you're feeling from me again, okay?"

"Okay."

I don't know how long we stay like that, but I miss the contact when Jazz pulls away. She wipes my cheeks. "We good now? Are we all good?"

"Better, anyway," I say truthfully. "I still have to talk to Mom and Dad."

"They're in the kitchen. I saw you coming down the street and made them wait. I wasn't sure if you were ready to see them."

I grin in a frightened, trapped animal way. "I'm not. But, it has to happen some time, right?"

"Do you want me in there with you?"

"Tempting, but I should do this myself."

She gives me another hug for luck and gathers up the spoon and container, muttering about the stain on the carpet. I wonder how much I should tell her about Eileen. Maybe just what I told Sam and Tucker. I know I promised Jazz I'd stop hiding my feelings from her, but I don't think I'm quite ready to talk about just how screwed up my head is.

Maybe I'll see how things go with Mom and Dad first.

I drag myself into the kitchen, and Mom and Dad look up. They are sitting at the table, looking at me with pinched, anxious faces. They're as nervous as I am.

Mom gestures to an empty seat and gives me a forced smile. "Why don't you sit down, honey? We have a lot to talk about."

"I won't apologize for anything," I say as I sit and stare down at my lap, unable to look at my parents.

"We're not asking you to, son," Dad assures. "We just wanna pick your brain a little."

I nod. I'll answer questions but only as much as I want to.

Mom goes first. "Tell us more about that ghost." My hands curl into fists. "That ghost at your school-"

"She is not 'that ghost,'" I growl. "Her name is Eileen. Or, Ms. Mae. She'll answer to both, and you better pick one when addressing her."

To my surprise, Mom doesn't hesitate. "Of course. Sorry. Tell us about Ms. Mae."

I'm glad she chose Eileen's teacher name. Now that I think about it, I don't want either of them using her real name. I decide to tell them the truth, leaving out the more personal details. "She taught in a one-room schoolhouse, and she didn't let death stop her from doing what she loved. She's spent the last few centuries going from school to school, changing her identity each time so no one would know she wasn't human."

"That makes sense," Dad comments.

I nod and continue, still staring at my lap. "When she saw how much I was struggling, she offered to help me on the spot. She's an amazing teacher." The corner of my mouth pulls up. "Has a lot of experience, I guess. But, it's not just that. She's open and honest with me, and I with her. We got to know each other." I finally raise my head. I can't read my parents' faces, but this might be the most attentive they've ever been. Then, I remember what got us into this mess and realize that there is some lying to be done. "And, the contamination will wear off by tomorrow and it's harmless. That's what she told me, and I believe her. I care about her , not what she is." That much is true.

When I don't say anything else, Dad asks, "Did you know she was a ghost?" He's not angry, just honestly curious. "Before today, I mean."

"I did," is all I tell him.

Mom's turn. "You and Danny Phantom seemed pretty familiar with each other. Did you see a lot of him when you were with that- with Ms. Mae?"

Now to fudge some more details. "He popped up now and then, checking on her. He knows she teaches humans, and he worries. Especially once she started tutoring the son of two ghost hunters. I know what you think of Phantom, but he's a good guy. Not bad looking, either," I add because I can't resist.

My parents raise an eyebrow at that but don't comment. "What about the warehouse?" Dad asks. When he sees my expression, he raises his hands. "Not accusing. Just asking. Phantom called it a training exercise that went wrong."

"It went wrong because you guys came in, guns literally blazing. Why do you think he and the other ghosts took off as soon as they saw you?"

"But, you said you went to get help," Mom reminds me.

"Because I knew what you'd say!" I realize I yelled and lower my voice. "I knew what you'd say if I told you I was helping Phantom train. I panicked. That's why I lied." There are a lot of reasons why I lied.

I give my parents a minute to digest everything. Just when the silence becomes unbearable, they look at each other in that silent communication way that parents do sometimes.

"Ms. Mae means a lot to you," Dad says.

I nod. She means more than I'm willing to say to them. Especially with Mom present. I could never tell her that lately a ghost has felt more like a mother to me than she has. It would break Mom's heart.

Mom reaches over and touches my arm. I let her. "Danny," Mom says gently and with a look that's full of affection, "if she's that important to you, we'll leave her be."

"Really?" I say with hope in my heart.

Dad nods with the same tender expression as Mom pulls her hand back. "You know how we feel about ghosts, but as long as she doesn't give us a reason not to, we can look the other way."

Eileen is safe. Maybe not from everyone, but this is a start. "Thank you," I croak out. "She-she'll be so happy to hear that!" Because this is going well, I take a chance. "What about Danny Phantom? Not every ghost comes here looking for trouble. Phantom just wants to help." My parents hesitate, and my heart sinks. "I know he doesn't always get it right, but he means well. I- He just wants to keep everyone safe! He's not perfect, but he's trying . Please leave him alone…" I have to stop or else I'll lose my composure.

"You've been keeping this in for a while," Mom comments sadly. "I can tell."

"Your sister defends Phantom all the time," Dad adds. "Why haven't you?"

I sigh and shrug. "Maybe my skin just isn't as thick as Jazz's. Sometimes, it just feels easier to not say anything."

"Oh, sweetheart," Mom coos. "We don't want to feel like you can't speak your mind in this house." Her face lights up suddenly, and she folds her hands on the table. "How about this? From now on, your father and I will only attack a ghost if it poses a direct threat to the public."

Dad smiles and pats Mom's shoulder. "Good call, Mads." To me he says, "Anyone else, we'll leave them alone if they leave us alone. Sound like a plan, son?"

"You mean that?" I ask, my voice thick with emotion. "You really mean that?"

"We wouldn't say it if we didn't," Dad says. Mom agrees.

I'm so relieved, I could cry or laugh or both. Instead, I leap out of my chair and throw my arms around my parents.

I find Jazz sitting on my bed, anxiously trying to spoon out the last dregs of salsa from the container. "This feels familiar," I tease. "Only last time you weren't licking a container like a starved racoon."

Jazz rolls her eyes. "I'm not licking-" Then, she looks at my face and smiles. "You look happy."

I plop down beside her. "They'll leave me alone from now on. They'll only attack ghosts who are attacking others."

Jazz gasps and wraps me in a hug. "Danny, that's great! This should have happened a long time ago."

"Better late than never." I return the embrace until a spicy stench assaults my nose and I yank myself away. "Ew, Jazz!" I playfully wave my hand in front of my face. "Your breath smells like peppers."

Jazz narrows her eyes in mock-offense. "It didn't seem to bother you downstairs."

"I was blinded by teen angst. Where'd you get that salsa, anyway?"

"It was in the fridge. I don't know who made it."

"Well," I point to the door, "you better march into the bathroom and not come out until you've gargled an entire bottle of mouthwash."

"Oh, it's not that bad." But, she stands up. And, sways slightly, blinking quickly.

"You okay?" I ask.

She shakes her head clear. "Stood up too fast."

I grin at her. "Maybe it's the salsa. Maybe it was tainted by a ghost."

Jazz smiles at me then bends down to kiss my forehead. "It's nice to hear you joking around again."

"It's nice to do it," I reply.

Things are looking up. They aren't perfect. Mom and Dad still hate ghosts, and Eileen may never be fully accepted, and maybe I won't either, but things are looking up.

Chapter Text

Vladimir Masters, my and Jack's old college friend and the current mayor of Amity Park, had stopped by completely out of the blue. Odd, considering that Jack usually invites him, and nine times out of ten he claims to be "too busy" to come over. Maybe he is or maybe he isn't. Either way, Vlad came over saying that he'd made too much salsa and brought some over for Jack. Which is even more random. But, Jack didn't complain. He just took the container with a hearty thanks and stuck it in the fridge for later before we all sat down in the kitchen for coffee. I wonder if Jack will ever tell Vlad that I'm not the only one here who thinks Vlad makes his salsa too spicy. We'll probably end up giving it to Jazz. She's the only one in this house who actually enjoys burning their mouth off. I think she gets it from my sister.

Anyway, Vlad picked a hell of a time for a visit. The scene from Casper High has been running through my mind since it happened this morning. Danny's black eyes. That awful ghost who'd been masquerading as a teacher.

Danny racing in to defend that ghost. The cold fury that I'd never seen in him before, that had been directed at Jack and myself. It wasn't a spur-of-the-moment kind of anger. It was the kind that builds up over time.

" We thought you were afraid of ghosts."

" I was. I'm not anymore."

Any contact with ghosts is dangerous. Danny's alarming level of contamination proves that. Total darkness is not a human eye color. Green is, but not glowing neon green. And, the human body cannot produce its own ectoplasm. Danny knows all of this, yet he still protected that ghost. Why? Was the ghost controlling him? That would certainly explain the contamination.

"Mads?" Jack's voice brings me back to reality.

Vlad rests his hand over mine. "You seem to have drifted off, my dear."

I pull my hand away and rest both hands on my lap. I wish Vlad would take the hint that I'm happily married and have no romantic interest in him whatsoever. But, I can put up with his flirting as long as it doesn't get out of hand. "I just keep thinking about Danny."

Jack sighs heavily. "Yeah. I have a feeling there's gonna be hell to pay when he gets home."

Vlad hums sympathetically. Jack had filled him in while I was trapped in my own head. "A ghost teaching humans is certainly," Vlad twirls his hand, looking for the right word, "a development. Regardless of her intentions, what did you expect from your son? We all know how Daniel is." He sips his coffee. "When someone's in trouble, the boy dives in headfirst."

That's true. My son has a heart of gold. It doesn't matter who you are - or what, apparently. If you need help, he's the first to offer it. He's always been that way, especially in recent years. Maybe it wasn't the ghost's doing. Maybe my son really had been acting of his own accord.

Looking back, I realize how tense and uncomfortable he'd get when Jack and I talked about ghosts. At some point, my son had become a ghost sympathizer, and I was too blind to see it. Why did it take something like this for me to notice? Why did he never say anything? No, I know the answer to that one. He's a quiet child, never one to rock the boat. He sees the way Jack and I dismiss Jazz's own defense of ghosts, and he figures there's no point. Come to think of it, whenever we dismiss Jazz, she scoffs or rolls her eyes like she'd expected it.

I know Jack and I aren't the perfect parents, but are we really so bad that our own kids don't feel like they can talk to us?

After tuning out the conversation a little longer, I see Vlad check his watch before downing the rest of his mug. "Well, thank you for the coffee, but I really must be on my way."

"Sorry we weren't the best company, Vladdy," Jack says as Vlad stands up and puts his mug in the sink. "We'll make it up to you next time."

"Yes, next time," Vlad says noncommittally. "Eat that salsa soon, Jack. Perishable," he sings on his way out. He gives me a little finger wave on his way out. "Ta ta, Maddie."

Ta ta? Really?

Once we hear the front door close, I ask Jack, "When are you going to tell him you hate his salsa?"

Jack pouts. "Ah, I couldn't do that. That would be like insulting your carrot cake."

"My carrot cake?"

"Uh, nothing's wrong with your carrot cake," he says too quickly. I let it go for now. Jack walks to the fridge. "And hey, maybe Vlad's changed the recipe." He pulls the salsa out of the fridge and opens the container. He smells the contents, cringes, and puts the lid back on, muttering, "Vladdy, you gotta ease up on the jalapenos."

I laugh, and Jack gives me a nervous smile. Neither of us knows what will happen when Danny gets home, but it's nice to have something else to think about for a moment.

Danny didn't come home after school. That isn't unusual. He will often hang out with his friends first. But, when Jazz came home, desperately looking for her brother and stress-eating Vlad's salsa without asking where it came from, I realized just how bad this was.

When your child doesn't come home or answer his phone after something bad happens, all kinds of thoughts fill your head. Jack and I practically collapsed with relief when Jazz, clutching a spoon and an empty container like lifelines, saw Danny coming down the street. She'd half-shoved us into the kitchen, thinking that Danny might not be ready to see his parents yet.

The thought hurt because she was probably right.

Jack and I didn't mean to listen to our kids' conversation, but the kitchen wasn't far and the kids weren't very quiet. Hearing our son essentially call himself a hindrance had me blinking back tears. Jack had held my hand, staring straight ahead with an unreadable expression. I know he was as bothered as I was. At least knowing how close our kids are was a comfort.

Then, our talk with Danny. I hadn't known what to expect from it nor did Jack. Danny had kept his head down when talking about the ghost- I mean, Ms. Mae. Though I couldn't see Danny's face, his tone was serious, honest, carrying the same passion it does when he talks about outer space. And, that passion grew when he talked about Phantom. This wasn't too surprising, I suppose, considering Phantom's reputation as a superhero and overall popularity.

When Jack and I agreed to stop targeting ghosts that pose no obvious threat, I thought our son was going to burst into tears of joy.

"What do you think of all of this?" Jack asks me once Danny leaves to tell Jazz the "good" news.

I shrug, still reeling. "I don't know. Ghosts are dangerous whether they're attacking people or not. And, you never know when one will become violent. At the same time…"

"It's for the kids."

"It's for the kids."

We say nothing for a moment, then Jack points out, "Danny's right about one thing. Some ghosts do seem to just fly around and not do much."

Shame creeps over me as I remember how angry our normally sweet, gentle son was this morning, as well as what he said about the warehouse. "I guess we do tend to shoot first and ask questions later."

Jack cups his chin, eyes narrowed. "I still say that ghosts should stay in their own world." I nod, feeling the same way. "But, for the sake of the kids, maybe we can tone it down a little."

I agree. No matter what, our children are the most important part of our lives.