Archive of Our Own

Everything was going well for Danny “Phantom” Fenton, half-ghost, and self-proclaimed hero of Amity Park. He had saved the city from disaster time and time again, earning himself not only allies but also fans. The teens of the city adored him, and although he didn’t exactly enjoy being stalked and obsessed over to the point that some of his fans did, it would be a lie to say that he didn’t enjoy their adoration. It certainly beat being hated and shot at by the people he saved.

For years, this was how it was. Phantom was always teetering on the edge of despised and adored, of monster and hero, and each side had their own reasons. He’s a ghost, he’s dangerous, he does more destruction to the city than the ‘evil’ ghosts do, yet he saves people, he protects them, he stops the rampaging ghosts. It’s been a few years since his appearance, and there were still protests towards his instatement by mayoral degree as the official protector of Amity Park, and whether they were fools for thinking a ghost should have any power, and fools for thinking that he shouldn’t.

Phantom knew he was always in the middle of controversy, that everyone was ambivalent towards him, but he had thought that by this point people would begin to trust him. At least a little. At least enough to thank him for saving them from being crushed by rubble, from being sucked into the Ghost Zone, from being killed. And they did thank him, many people were grateful for what he did for them. They had celebrated him, they had cheered for him, even to the point of accidentally putting themselves in danger for a photo, to shout praises and applause at him midbattle.

Until they suddenly just… stopped.

The praise, the applause, the gratitude, the fans, they all faded away bit by bit each time he defeated a ghost. Those who had once celebrated his heroism turned their backs to him, wore the anti-Phantom shirts and waved the anti-ecto banners high in the sky, marching through the streets in hopes that he’ll hear them and leave. Phantom floated invisibly above their parades, watching as they praised the other ghost hunters in the city: the Fentons, the Red Huntress, even the GIW. His once-adoring fans now despised the ghost, and burned all of their supportive shirts and flyers.

He didn’t really know why… but he had his theories. Whispers of the truth had started to spread to everyone in the city, how Phantom was the cause of the ghosts. If you think about it, some say, the ghosts only come for Phantom. He’s the reason they’re here at all. If he wasn’t here, then neither would the ghosts.

Sam seemed to be one of the few remaining people of the city who still sided with Phantom, still claiming loud and clear that Phantom was a hero. That not all ghosts were villains. That—yes, while Phantom had done some questionable actions in the past—he was doing better for the city than the GIW. That even without him, the ghosts would still have come.

She didn’t know.

Tucker thought Phantom was cool, and although he sided with Sam, he was more lowkey about his gratefulness towards the ghost. While she seemed to wear a THANK YOU PHANTOM jacket overtop of her purple and black attire, he stuck to his normal clothes; but when asked he would declare that he thought Phantom was good. Well, he meant, the ghost had seemed chill the few times he had spoken to him. No way someone who sat through him explaining a new update for his PDA could be bad.

He didn’t know.

Danny’s own parents were the frontrunners of the anti-ecto campaign. They advocated for his capture, experiment, and disassembling in nearly every conversation of theirs. It wasn’t uncommon for their neighbours to hear shouts about whether cutting into Phantom would be a vivisection or a dissection, with each side having enough points and belief towards their opinions that this three year old argument was no where close to subsiding. Jazz was strictly on the belief that Phantom was hero, purely because her parents were always wrong and if they believed him to be a monster then she was to believe he was good. Besides, he had saved them more than enough for her to compile enough evidence proving that he had helped Amity Park more than injure it.

She didn’t know.

And Danny Fenton, what did he think? He thought that he didn’t want to be Phantom anymore. Ghosts were evil, they were monsters who wrought destruction and made chaos in their wake; he had seen this more than anyone else, constantly being on the end of the ectoblasts that could render a brick wall rubble. Everyday, he would head to school and pass by the anti-ecto, anti-Phantom posters that were stuck to every bare surface. He sat in the cafeteria while his friends argued with everyone else in the school, all while he sat in the middle, silent, and was subjected to even more bullying from Dash and the others for simply sitting with them. Every time he used his ghost powers, every time he transformed and killed himself to save people, he could only remember the words everyone would tell him. Words shouted at him from the ground, words he overheard in the hallways.

Get out of our city!

Take the ghosts with you!

Monster!

Creep!

Go back to the Ghost Zone!

Get outta here, freak!

Get back here, ghost boy! Let me shoot you!

We don’t want you here!

We don’t want you here. Five single words that pierced into Danny’s heart and core every time he heard it. No one wanted Phantom, no one wanted the ghosts, and it was his fault they were here. His fault for the portal activating, his fault for the ghosts attacking, his fault for everything—Phantom has only been a plague on this world. He couldn’t study right, he couldn’t pass tests right, he couldn’t even die right.

We’re Fentons, and Fentons get A’s!

Danny was a C student, at best. He couldn’t even live up to his parent’s expectations right.

He didn’t want to be Phantom, anymore. He wanted to be human—to fit in—to have friends—to have a life! He would lay awake during the very little night he had to sleep remembering the monstrous version of him that was his and Plasmius’ ghost selves fused together. Remembering what he did to the city, remembering how it hurt to stop him, knowing that was him in the future. Phantom became a monster. A monster that proved all the anti-ecto supporters correct. All ghosts were evil.

So, when he decided to destroy Phantom once and more all, there was no one stopping him. No one knew the truth. They all thought that Phantom was some ghost fulfilling an obsession. What obsession? No one knew. Where did Phantom suddenly go? No one knew. Why did he stop fighting the ghosts? No one knew. Did the GIW finally get their prey, did Skulker? No one knew.

No one knew except for Danny Fenton, human, and average student of Casper High.

“Did you hear?” voices whispered in the halls of the school, as if raising their volume would summon the devil. “Did you hear that Phantom ran away?”

“They say he’s dead,” someone said.

“I heard the GIW caught him!”

“Someone told me he killed himself.”

“Maybe he’s just taking a break?”

Sam slammed her lunch tray on the table for emphasis as she said, “That’s ridiculous, Tucker. Why would he take a break? He’s a ghost. And it’s not like the GIW could hunt ghosts as well as he could.”

“You don’t think ghosts can take breaks?”

“Of course not, but I wouldn’t expect him to take a break without leaving some sort of protection here. Or letting us know. Valerie’s probably the only passible ghost hunter in Amity, well, after u—”

Sam and Tucker sat at the same table since freshmen. He hadn’t spoken to them in months, only awkward glances in the hallway or at the cafeteria if they caught his gaze. If he was around. Mostly he was out fighting ghosts. But, now, free of the menace that was Phantom, he could try to reconnect with them. He wanted to be their friends, to hang out with them, but as he stood in the middle of the cafeteria, his lunch tray in hand, he froze.

…Would they still want to be his friends? It was Sam who told him that if couldn’t get his shit together and tell them what’s wrong, that he should stop speaking to them at all. It was Tucker who had allowed himself to side with her, to try to pressure Danny into telling them what’s wrong. And when it didn’t work, when he turned away from them, it was them who never reached out to him. But he never tried to reach out to them, either. They had dealt with his bullshit for two and a half years, his lies and bailing, before they got sick of him. Six months later… would they accept him back?

Well. She told him to come back with his shit fixed. And his shit was most definitely fixed.

Phantom had fought much more terrifying monsters than two teenagers. But he wasn’t Phantom anymore. Danny Fenton was human. He wasn’t a ghost. He was just a normal teenage boy, and teenage boys got nervous speaking with people who most likely hated him. But he killed Phantom to have the opportunity to do this—he couldn’t turn away.

“…upgrade our new blasters,” Tucker was saying as he approached their table. “I could probably increase their range, or their power efficiency, at least.”

“Efficiency would probably be the better aspect to focus on,” Sam said. “Remember that time with the Box Ghost?”

Both shuddered.

Tucker was the first to notice him. “Oh, and I’ll ask Jazz if we couuuuu—uh, hey, Danny? This is a surprise; haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Ah, yeah,” he said, averting Sam’s gaze when she turned to him. “Sorry about that. I had some shit to deal with.”

“Some shit.”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, care to tell us what it was?” she demanded, then shook her head. “Never mind, I know you won’t. Why are you here, Danny? What do you want.”

Danny placed his lunch tray on the edge of the table. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and said, “I want to apologize. To both of you. For my actions since freshmen year. I know that I was a jerk who kept ditching you and lying to you, and I want to apologize for that. My shit’s done, I’m over it, it won’t affect me anymore. From here on out, I will never lie to you, again. I was… I have no excuses to give you for my actions, but even if you don’t want to be my friends anymore, I still wanted to tell you sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Wow, Danny,” Sam scoffed, “the first thing you say to us in six months is sorry? How about an explanation? And what exactly happened? You said you won’t lie to us, and yet you still haven’t told what you were lying about!”

“Sam….”

Danny interrupted him. “No, she’s right, Tucker. I haven’t told you what was happening. I just… I was having a hard time dealing… since the accident, and I just… pushed you all away. I was… embarrassed with how it still freaked me out, and how ghosts terrify me, that I couldn’t deal with anything. I shouldn’t have pushed you guys away, I should’ve explained what was wrong. But I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

They both said nothing for a moment. Then, Tucker said, “Well, I forgive you, Danny. Sure, it hurt that you lied to me and abandoned us, but I’m happy that you came back. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. So… are we friends, again?”

“Well, I think so,” Tucker said. “Sam?”

Sam bit her lip as she thought, thousands of thoughts racing through her head. This gave Danny a moment to observe them both, to see how much they’ve changed in six months. She had cut her hair into a short messy cut sometime in sophomore year, and hadn’t let it grow out since. Tucker had the beginnings of a stubble and a moustache that was, no doubt, taking great care of. They had both matured since freshmen, getting both taller and sharper. Danny, if he could see himself, would have seen that he changed as well, but he rarely looked in mirrors anymore.

“No more lies?” she eventually asked.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“No more bailing?”

“Yes.”

“You will tell us what actually happened to you.”

He knew it wasn’t a question. Danny hesitated for a brief second. “…Eventually, yes. Just… not right now.”

Sam still didn’t answer. She tapped her black painted nails against the cafeteria table, thinking. “I’m holding you to that,” she said. “But, if you won’t go back on your word, and you’ll put in the effort, then… so will I. Yes, we’re friends, again.”

She patted the spot on the bench beside her and he eagerly sat down, a large smile on his face. Tucker high-fived him from across the table, and they started a new topic of conversation from the previous: Mr. Lancer’s upcoming essay. Danny could almost pretend they were back before the accident, back when everyone was happy and friendly, back when everything was good, and ghosts were only the delusion of his parents.

Oh, well, his friends were back with him, and that’s all that mattered.

It became abundantly clear that Tucker and Sam were lying to him about something. Which, given his track history, was quite ironic. He would walk over to them, and they would shut down their previous conversation to talk about something else. Occasionally, he caught a word or so: ghost hunters, ecto-guns, something about Valerie.

Well, he had nothing to worry about anymore. He wasn’t a ghost anymore. He wasn’t Phantom anymore. And if this wasn’t what was supposed to happen, Clockwork would have gone and interfered. Grabbed another him from a different timeline where the fool still remained a halfa, and plopped him here to stop Danny. But, no alternate universe Danny Fenton was spotted. No one stopped him. No one interfered. This was how it was meant to be.

No Dan without Phantom, after all. He didn’t miss it, not one bit.

Danny let Sam and Tucker have their little secrets; he had kept his from them for so long, after all. And whatever they may be doing without him couldn’t be as dangerous as him having been Phantom.

What was even more ironic was what happened during their first outing as a trio of friends.

They had decided to go to the cinema to see a new movie. It was fun, and Danny had nothing to worry about as he waited in line at concession with Tucker; retirement was so relaxing. But just as they reached the counter to order some popcorn, Sam had rushed back from the washroom to grab Tucker’s arm, inform everyone about the ghost attack outside, and in the midst of the panic in the crowded lobby, both disappeared from Danny.

It was terrifying to be a civilian in the middle of a ghost attack. He was pushed outside the cinema from the crowd, and panicked at the disappearance of his very fleshy human friends. Didn’t they know it was a ghost attack? It was dangerous! He had to go and stop the ghost, he had to protect people, it was his responsibility, his problem, his issue, his obsess—he had to—

He had to—

He had—

No.

No, actually, he didn’t. It took a moment of feeling for the cold rush of his core to trigger his transformation before he remembered that this wasn’t his problem anymore. He wasn’t Phantom. It wasn’t his duty to fight ghosts anymore. Danny was human. And humans were supposed to leave the area and look for shelter.

Danny couldn’t see Sam and Tucker in the fleeing crowd, even as the Red Huntress and the Black and Gold Hunters could be seen in the distance battling with Technus. As Phantom, Danny had met with the three ghost hunters before, and it was surprising that they were working with each other. The Red Huntress worked solo, and during the time she wasn’t fighting ghosts or shooting at him, she was fighting with the duo about their opinion on ghosts’ right to live.

(After the third argument between the three where he was forced to sit, listen, and prove the Black Hunter’s point about his sapience and sentience, Danny had gone out of his way to avoid them (unless absolutely necessary; say, ghost invasion, etc.). It hadn’t been hard to escape from them as neither had the same hoverboard that the Red Huntress had, only wicked cool motorcycles, in his opinion.)

Seeing them fight that annoying blabbering ghost from the ground was… new. In the two weeks since he killed Phantom, he hadn’t seen many ghost attacks. He tried to tell himself that it was because he couldn’t sense one while human, and that there were many times that no one knew a ghost was attacking besides from him. Getting eight hours of sleep was too euphoric for him to truly seek out ghost attacks.

Danny Fenton was afraid of ghosts, after all. He would never go searching through the streets of Amity Park just to make sure that ghosts were still attacking. His remaining-human should, if the people of the city were correct, lessen the amount of ghost attacks.

And humans in a ghost attack were instructed to vacate the area.

Besides, annoying as he was, Technus cared more about the technology he would use to take over the world, than actually killing people. Danny turned to follow the dwindling crowd who had scattered, and bunkered down in the alley he always used when turning back to human (there were no security cameras nor windows peering down into it, it was a perfect spot). No one else was there, which was stupid because it was a prime safe spot.

Technus’ screechy voice could be heard from his hiding spot which—given that there was a loud thud of something smashing into a brick wall—told him that the fight had gotten closer to the cinema. “I, Technus, shall not be defeated by simple teenagers in lousy costumes! With my upgraded programming—” he paused for a moment, probably to read something—“new software update 17.3, I will take control over all communication devices in the world and force humanity into obeying me!”

“NO!” the modulated voice belonging to the Black Hunter screamed as Technus laughed.

Danny clenched his fists and bit his tongue. They let Technus update himself? They needed to figure out how to stop him; well, if he were there, he could shoot an ectoblast at Technus to make him drop whatever he was holding, to stop him before he could hurt anymore. Really, they weren’t as good at protecting the city as he was, so why was he the one being hated. He really ought to help them—

Except, he wasn’t Phantom. He couldn’t help. He couldn’t create ectoblasts or punch through walls, anymore. He was just Danny Fenton, a human.

“Dude! Update 17.3,” the Gold Hunter’s modulated voice chuckled. “That’s so outdated. What you want is update 17.4.”

“Huh? What are you saying, child? There’s an even better update?”

“Well, yeah, everyone knows that 17.3 was shut down real fast because of bugs and glitches. 17.4 is where we’re at.”

Technus laughed. “Ah haha! Yes! Bring me that new update and I will think of sparing y—OUCH!”

The Red Huntress’ voice was a clear as her aim. “Stop telling him how to better take over the world or I swear I will shoot you next.”

Danny glanced over the corner of the alley to see the three ghost hunters bombard Technus with their (anti-)ecto guns; the Black Hunter grabbed a grenade, lit it, and tossed it at the ghost, which emitted a blast so strong it blasted him through the wall of the cinema. Technus shot his own ectoblasts at them, with the Red Huntress dodged and the Black Hunter shielded both him and the Gold Hunter from.

“I wasn’t trying to give him better way to take over the world,” the Gold Hunter explained, unprompted. “Everyone knows that update 17.4 causes any device to malfunction and freeze if it updates without also charging! The current update, 17.6, fixes this—I mean, it does absolutely nothing to fix this.”

Whether or not Technus heard the last part was unclear, although the Gold Hunter obviously was trying to fool him. “You lied to me?” Technus demanded. “That’s not very nice of you!”

“Dude, you’re literally trying to take over the world.”

“Yes, but I’m not lying about that!”

The Red Huntress grumbled, “Just shoot him, already!” Her hoverboard shot two tracking missiles at Technus, which managed to break through his phoney (get it? It’s made from actual cellphones) battle armour.

Simultaneously, the Black Hunter grabbed their black and purple Thermos and sucked Technus inside during his moment of disorientation. “Noooo! You cannot stop me, Technuuuuuuus!” He slammed the lid on it harshly.

Maybe, Danny thought as he backed away from the destroyed wall of the cinema, maybe they’ll do alright without me. Well, they don’t have a choice.

Of course, the RGB Hunters (as the news so lovingly called the three) were the talk of the town. It seemed that everyone forgot Phantom, Danny was convinced they thought that the evil ghost boy was a fever dream. The Mandela effect. Whatever, it was better than hearing people contemplate his death or disappearance every day.

(Part of him was saddened that they stopped talking about him only twenty-five days after he stopped being Phantom. He ignored it.)

They never saw their movie, and since the cinema would be under renovation because of Technus, they weren’t going to be seeing a movie for some time. Sam and Tucker ran into Danny after the battle, both claiming they were dragged away from Danny by the panicked crowd. After three years of ghost attacks, although most people were ambivalent to hearing the news, those in the danger area lost their ambivalence and became solely on the side of panic and terror, rather than being in a mix between panic and apathy.

“Why don’t we head to your place later, Sam?” Tucker asked that Monday as they walked through the halls to class. “We could always rewatch a movie there.”

“I’m not really feeling it today,” she said. “Why don’t we go get some ice cream after school, instead?”

Danny nodded. “I’m down.”

“I’m… ah, no, I can’t, not today,” Tucker hissed. “And neither can you, Sam. Remember?”

She blanked for a moment, even as Tucker subtly mimed looking for something. “Rememb—ah, yes. Yes! The. Uh. My cousin lost their dog and asked for our help finding him,” she blurted.

“Their dog?” Danny asked, thinking of a certain glowing green ghost dog he hadn’t seen in a while. “That’s not good. Can I help? What’s it breed?”

“Dalmatian,” Tucker said at the same time as Sam’s, “Chihuahua.”

They glanced at each other and said, “Chihuahua” and “Dalmatian” at the same time, albeit claiming the dog is of the opposite breed that what they said prior.

“He’s a chihuahua-dalmatian mix,” she explained. “Looks like a small Dalmatian, really. Name’s… Phanny.”

“Are you gonna go down the street looking for Phanny?” Danny asked. “I can help you with that.”

Sam quickly denied him. “Oh, no, no, we’re good. We just need the two of us to do so. You should focus on studying for the test next week.”

“And you won’t?”

“Danny… you passed the last test with a twenty-one out of forty.”

That’s true. Although he had no idea how she knew that, given they weren’t talking then. He sighed, “Yeah, alright. Good luck with finding Phanny. I hope you find your cousin’s dog.”

“Me, too,” said Sam just as the class bell rung. “Oh, shit, we’re late!”

A month since Phantom was killed, and Danny was starting to finally get used to being a human. Sleeping through the night undisturbed, being about to hang out with his friends without worry, not having to make up excuses for why his parent’s inventions target him, why he’s so tired all the time, why he’s covered in bandages. No obligation to protect anyone, or to be anyone but himself. He had loved his ghost powers, for sure, but he loved not being hated by the masses a bit more.

Although, currently, he wished that he still had his ghost powers in this moment.

Sure, the masses didn’t hate Danny Fenton, but that’s because the masses didn’t know he was Phantom. There were a few people who hated Danny, but that was on principle of being Danny. One such person was Dash, who still abided by his schedule to bully Danny and was the reason why he was stuck in his locker five minutes after the bell rung for class.

If he had his ghost powers, he could walk through the door and be in class only thirty-seconds late. But, as a human, he had no choice but to bang on the locker door and call out for help. Normally a passing teacher would free him, he would apologize for his actions (as if being stuck in the locker was his choice), and then he would rush to class to sneak in while the teacher glared at him. This was what he expected.

He didn’t expect for a hand to reach through the locker and to pull him through the door.

“Ah, the ghost boy, at last,” Skulker said, holding Danny by his collar and lifting him closer to his battlesuit’s face. “You’ve done well to make this hunt a challenge for me, although I have no idea how you managed to trick my scanners into believing that you’re in the Ghost Zone. Well done.”

He placed Danny down, and said, “Now, I will give you five seconds to make this interesting for me. Then I will—”

“Skulker, wait,” Danny interrupted. “I’m not your prey anymore.”

“You’re not?”

“Check your scanner,” he said. “I’m just a human.”

Skulker eyed him but did use his scanner on Danny, and frowned when it sadly beeped as if it was disappointed with it’s displayed result. “Huh, a human. This must be faulty.”

“It’s not.”

In response, Skulker flew through the wall and grabbed a random student from the class on the other side. Oh great, out of all the students in the school, he had to grab Wes freaking Weston: the conspiracy nut who was the only human who knew the identity of Phantom, but was struck with the Curse of Cassandra (take that! Danny does listen to his teachers), so no believed him. The basketball player screamed and shouted at Skulker as he was pulled into the hallway, and then swore and cursed Danny out when he noticed the human standing there. Absentmindedly, Skulker covered his mouth with his hand, muffling him.

“Hmm, a human as well,” the ghost mused. He thought for a moment, simply floating the hallway as Wes screamed a muffled bloody murder, and then said, “I will be back, ghost boy, when I have fixed my scanner. I will not capture you with faulty equipment. Await my return to my hunt.”

With that, Skulker faded from existence and flew away.

“Y—you!” Wes yelled, pointing at Danny, who had turned to open the locker he had been shut in. “You called that ghost here! He was here for you! You’re Phantom!”

Danny sighed, “Wes. He literally left because I’m not a ghost. And I didn’t call him here. Also, I didn’t see a ghost, did you? Ah, thank you, Wes!” he called out loudly as Mr. Lancer opened the door to see what the commotion was about. “Thanks for opening the locker and setting me free!”

“Danny, get to class,” Mr. Lancer sighed. “And you, Wes, no yelling in the halls! You get to class, too. You’re both late.”

Wes was indignant. “A ghost just literally pulled me through the wall, Mr. Lancer! Did no one see that? He’s lying! There was ghost here and there’s still a ghost now! Danny Fenton is Phantom!”

Both Danny and Mr. Lancer sighed at his antics, used to his accusations by now. Although, this was one of the only times that Wes was wrong: he was Phantom, but now he’s not! “Get to class,” Mr. Lancer simply said. “And Wes, I want you to stay behind with me. For detention.”

“But Mr. Lancer—”

“One more word out of you and I’ll make it a week’s detention. Get to class.”

Danny nodded to the teacher before walking past Wes and down the hall. He could still hear Wes complain to Mr. Lancer about Skulker, who obviously didn’t believe him nor saw him be grabbed through the wall. If Wes hadn’t been sabotaging Danny’s secret and trying to get him hated by the city, he would have felt sorry for his two-week detention, but, well….

(For being late, Danny was awarded the day’s detention.)

Why is she standing on the road? Danny thought when he saw one of his best friends preparing to protest something near the sidewalk. Mr. Lancer watched her in the distance like a hawk.

Sam was wearing a different jacket from her THANK YOU PHANTOM one. This one was a neon green with the words PHANTOM IS MISSING above the only almost completely legible photo of Phantom there was: him being shocked by someone popping confetti in his face taken a year and a half ago. Danny froze when he saw her before joining her on the road, saying:

“I thought you hated colour.”

“Normally, yes,” she said. “But I’m wearing this to raise awareness for our missing ghost. Besides, green and black are still goth colours.”

“And what’s this about Phantom being missing?”

Tucker, wearing a matching jacket, came over to them with his arms full of missing persons posters and flyers as Sam explained: “Look, we know Phantom, and we know he didn’t just voluntarily up and leave the city. Someone must have taken him. We know that mind control is possible for ghosts, remember Circus Gothica? Oh, I guess you didn’t go back to see that trapezist…. Anyway, we know that Phantom is missing and we’re trying to find him.”

“You don’t think he just left? Ghosts can do whatever they want. Maybe he got tired of being hated by the city, so he left.”

Both Sam and Tucker looked at him as if he had grown a second head. Tucker shook his own as he said, “Nah, Phantom’s too much of a hero to just leave without making sure the city’s safe.”

“Well,” Danny said, “maybe he knows the city is protected by ghost hunters. I saw the Red Huntress and the Black and Gold Hunters take down Technus the other day, you know. They’re good.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “You saw Technus and didn’t faint?”

“I may be afraid of them, yes,” he said, “but I don’t faint from fear.”

“Ah huh. Riiiiiiight. Anyway,” she reached into her backpack, “I brought a jacket for you, too.” As she held it out for Danny to take, Dash ripped it from her hands and tore it to pieces.

“Oh, gross, I got looooser fabric on me,” he whined, pretending to wipe dirt onto his pants. “Do you really think that Phantom is a hero. Gross.”

“Well, I don’t think he is,” Sam said, crossing her arms, “I know he is. He’s saved all of us before, or did you forget?”

“Wha?”

“Never mind.”

“Ignoring whatever that was,” Dash grumbled, before turning to smirk at Danny. “Hey, Fenturdy! I got a test today, so you better hope I ace it or I’m taking it out on your ass!”

Danny sighed, “Dash—”

“Later, loser,” the jock interrupted as soon as he saw Paulina across the entrance. He marched off and left the three alone with the torn jacket.

“Well,” Sam said, picking up the tracked jacket, “I could probably salvage this. I would say I can’t believe they haven’t let him graduate, but I believe it.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Danny said, although he was grateful for Dash having destroyed the jacket he was going to accidentally lose. “Three years later and he’s like this. I still don’t understand why he targets me, there’re are way more losery people in the school.”

“Yeah, like Wes,” Tucker joked. “He’s still going on about you being Phantom, right? Haven’t heard him talking about that lately.”

Sam said, “Yeah, because Mr. Lancer forbids any talk of Phantom on schoolgrounds. Which is why the posters—” Tucker held them up at her prompt— “explain everything we would say. We’re handing them out at lunch.”

That explains why she’s standing on the edge of the road, and not on the sidewalk, thought Danny, but said, “He banned any talk of Phantom? How come I haven’t heard of it.”

“You don’t talk about Phantom,” Tucker said. “Also, dude, do you pay attention to anything Lancer says?”

“I do! We’re currently discussing The Haunting of Hill House; I’ll have you know. It’s by Sherbert Jackson.”

From behind him, Mr. Lancer said, “Shirely Jackson, Mr. Fenton, the author’s name is Shirely Jackson, not Sherbet. But I’m pleased you pay, at least, partial attention to my words, unlike these two. Miss. Manson, Mr. Foley, I informed you not to speak of Phantom on school property. I’ll make the official announcement later today.”

“But we’re not on school property, Mr. Lancer,” Tucker said. “We’re on the road. Which is owned by the city!”

“…I see. And what about your clothing and your flyers?”

“Ah, we’re not talking about Phantom with our jackets, people are reading about him,” Sam said. “We’re doing everything as you said. You simply said to not talk about Phantom on schoolgrounds, we’re not on schoolgrounds, and when we are we aren’t talking about him. We’re doing everything you say!”

“…So, it seems. I will let you off with a warning today, but if there is mention of Phantom on schoolgrounds starting tomorrow, that is ground for detention. I will see you in class. Don’t be late.” Mr. Lancer stalked off, although a part of him was pleased with how his students were learning about loopholes and clarifying speech, which will help them with contracts in the future. If only they wouldn’t use it against him.

Danny whistled. “Wow, close call. Why do you guys even still advocate for him when everyone hates him?”

“Who? Phantom? It’s because everyone hates him. He needs to know that we know that he’s a hero, and that we’re on his side. Everyone used to think so too, until GIW and the mayor’s propaganda made them think otherwise. And if he’s in trouble and hurt and there’s something we can do to help him, but we don’t? I would feel awful,” Sam said. “He helps us, and so we should help him too.”

His heart stung at her words. And not for the first time, Danny regretted killing Phantom. He swallowed his sorrow and said, “Well, if everyone hates him they probably have a reason. I mean, if ninety percent of the population hates you, then you must be a monster, right? He’s a ghost, and ghosts are evil. We all know that.”

“Oh, yeah, and who told you that? Your parents? The same people who accidentally shoot civilians with their guns? Consistently.” Sam crossed her arms. “Trust me, Danny, your parents may claim to be the leading minds in ectology, but they aren’t. They’re bias bigots who don’t know a thing about ghosts!”

She’s not wrong. But they are his family.

“Don’t call my parents bigots!” he snapped. “I know they’re close-minded and research-driven, but without their inventions the town would be a complete wreck! Besides, their guns don’t harm humans!”

“Uh, every heard of burns? You shoot someone with a hot enough laser, they’re gonna burn.”

Before Danny could refute her, because, again, she’s right, Tucker interrupted loudly with, “Alright! Let’s go. If we don’t hurry to class, we’re gonna be late, and we have Lancer first! Don’t wanna get detention during lunch and then become unable to spread our posters and flyers!”

The three stepped onto schoolgrounds and refrained from mentioning Phantom by name as they stalked to class.

The announcement instructing them not to mention Phantom was given to them during the first period, the next day. Mr. Lancer had even left the classroom during the period while they were instructed to write their analysis of room colours in the house, silently, by themselves. Of course, no one followed his instructions and so as soon as the door closed behind them, Sam turned around in her seat to face Tucker. Danny’s seat was in the furthest location away from them, as when he chose it, they weren’t talking.

“Do you think that Skul told the truth?” she asked him quietly. “That GB’s no longer a ghost?”

“I dunno,” he whispered back. “That depends on whether the idea of what he said GB was is actually true. He could be lying for shits and giggles.”

“Yeah, but he seemed truly distraught. I don’t think he’d lie about this.”

Tucker took out his PDA to type his thoughts out. “Okay. So, say that he told the truth, that GB is now just B, how did it happen? Why did it happen? Did he want it to happen? Is he even alive?”

“I don’t know. Val said she can’t find him either, neither can our scanners. I… what if he truly left?”

Tucker chuckled. “Him? The only time he didn’t help protect Amity was because of Freakshow. Which, coincidentally, is when we started.”

Suddenly, Sam said, “I’m worried about Danny.”

“What? Why? He’s fine.”

“I know he’s fine, but,” Sam sighed. “He just seems different. And he still won’t tell us what happened to him. Why he acted the way he did.”

“Sam, he was recovering from the accident. It’s understandable.”

“It is, Tucker. Just… why wouldn’t he have trusted us? Embarrassment? After everything we’ve been through….”

A vibration shook both Tucker’s and Sam’s wrists and they looked towards their watches, synchronized.

Just as Sam glanced out the window in worry, the ghost alarm blared throughout the school. Danny looked over to his friends, seeing Sam mouth a word that was muted by the klaxon screeching of the alarm. His father’s recorded voice belted, GHOST ATTACK! GHOST ATTACK! GET TO SAFETY! LET US DEAL WITH IT! on repeat, as the students became a flurry of motions.

“Look!” Kwan pointed; his voice full of disdain. “It’s Phantom.”

…WHAT?! Danny bolted over to the window and pressed himself against it as other students came over to peer outside. It couldn’t be Phantom, he was right in the room with them, and he also wasn’t Phantom at the moment! But, there! Flying high in the sky, shooting ectoblasts at Ember, was the notorious ghost boy. His hazmat suit was stark black against the white sky, his wispy white hair glowing like a halo, and even from the distance, Danny could see the pain in his face. The struggle.

This had to be a joke. He laughed. This had to be a joke. He full blown cackled as he backed away from the window, the ghost alarm having silenced although the lights still coated the room in red. That wasn’t him. It was a joke. An illusion. Spectra’s assistant, what was his name—Bertrand—was a shapeshifter, Hell, so was she. This had to be a show to force him to show himself. Force him to come outside and demand what the fuck is happening. And if it wasn’t….

If it wasn’t.

What? Was he being haunted by his own fucking ghost? He killed Phantom. He saw it happen. He did it himself.

“Oh, this is great!” he laughed, earning worried stared from the students. “Oh, this is so funny! That’s not Phantom! He’s dead! His core is crushed! And he’s fighting Ember who always loves a good show! Hahahaha!”

Danny took his laughing ass outside the classroom and down the hall. By the time he reached the back doors, he had calmed himself. They were blown open by the stampede of students who didn’t stay and watch the fight from their classroom window, and Danny was able to peer outside to see the fake Phantom. Ember smacked into him with her guitar, and he shattered the ground on impact.

Ouch.

He knew how much that hurt.

Ember floated above him, made a face at him teasingly, and then was shot in the back by a pink anti-ecto ray.

The Red Huntress flew down towards her, guns primed, and Ember made the executive decision to nope out of there as both the Black and Gold Hunters arrived on the scene, their motorcycles revving. All that remained was the ghost boy. The Red Huntress landed in front of the Black and Gold Hunters, obviously trying to claim him for herself, which the Black Hunter absolutely abhorred.

Only the Gold Hunter noticed the fake crawling out of the crater before he turned invisible as well. All of them looked down on their scanners before turning towards Danny.

“You,” a voice said, exasperated. “You need to come with me.”

A cold hand grabbed Danny’s own, and the fake popped back into vision. He looked exhausted, with thick dark rings under his eyes and with a gaunt and thin face. There were scratches all along his cheeks and forehead. And before Danny could fight against him, the fake turned him invisible and flew away with him in tow.

“Let me go!”

“Will you just shut up for one second, Daniel James Fenton!” the fake complained, hoisting him over his shoulder. “Ancients, I’ve gone through literal Hell to get here! And—” a pink anti-ecto ray shot by the fake’s ear, causing him to turn them back to visible. “I am holding a civilian, Red! Don’t shoot me!”

“Oh, so now you’re taking hostages?!” she demanded. “That’s low of you, Phantom. I knew ghosts were low, but you’re worse than that. You’re scum.”

“He’s not Phantom,” Danny said. “He’s a fake.”

The fake sighed and smacked his forehead. “Oh, my Ancients, I am not a fake, and he’s not a hostage.”

“Then what is he?”

“Yeah. What am I?”

For a moment, the fake seemed to contemplate this. But then he gasped and pointed behind the Red Huntress, “Oh my god, Cujo! I’ve missed you, buddy!”

“Fucking dog—WHERE?!”

As soon as she whipped around to find the ghost dog, who wasn’t there, the fake hit her with an ectoblast that knocked her off her hoverboard. He turned them invisible once more and took off in the opposite direction.

Danny was placed down gently in his bedroom. He huffed at the fake as he shut the blinds and hovered above the floor on the other side of the room. Both of them crossed their arms.

“So,” Danny started, “who are you really?”

The fake sighed again. “I’m you, idiot. The ghost part of you that you tried to kill. Way back in the lab. About a… Ancients, a little over a month ago, now.”

“Really? You expect me to believe that.”

“You literally ripped my core out of my chest with the ghost gloves, tried to crush it, and then threw me and my body through the portal.”

It didn’t feel that violent when he did it, but hearing it said back to him… yeah… what the fuck was wrong with him?

“I never told anyone about that.”

“No, shit. You didn’t have to—I was there!”

Danny sat on his bed and crossed his legs. “So. Say you are me; how did you survive?”

“Ghosts sustain themselves off of ectoplasm,” Phantom said, mimicking Fenton in the air, “absorbing it and whatnot. It’s the only thing that heals our cores, and you so happen to throw me and mine into the only place in the world thriving with pure ectoplasm. I managed to shove my core back inside, and I managed to heal. Took a fucking while, though. Then, I crawled my way back here.”

Fenton didn’t really know what to say, except: “Why are you back? You know how much the people of Amity Park hates you.”

“Hates us, don’t think you’re not me. Sure, we’re split right now, but we’re the same person.” Phantom shrugged. “Besides, the Ghost Zone’s pretty boring when you’re not being threatened and/or chased.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“I just spent a month floating in it. Yeah, I do.”

“So, what, are you going to try to fuse up back together? I’m not going to! I so happen to like being a human! I like living a normal life!” Fenton stood and jabbed at the ghost. “People like me!”

“And you think I wanna combine with the person who attempted to kill me? Crush my core! Yeah, right, keep dreaming.”

“Then, I reiterate: why are you here?!”

Phantom sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. “…I ran into Clockwork on my way back. He told me that even if we’re split, we’re still connected and that without me, you’ll die, and that without you, I’ll die.”

“Yeah, right, I feel great!”

“Yeah, cause it’s only been a month. He said it’s a slow process, like cancer. We’ll feel great one day until, bam! You collapse and have to be rushed to the hospital, and I just… I dunno… die, I guess.”

Fenton frowned. “Really. I’ll die without you?”

“That what he’s says, yeah. And I don’t hold you trying to kill me against you. We’re kinda even now. Besides, we are connected, right? You must’ve felt my obsession.”

“No, I didn’t,” Fenton lied. “Besides, we’ve tried splitting before, it didn’t work well then.”

Phantom shrugged again. “Well, that’s when we split our brain not our actual being. I’m a ghost, you’re a human, we’re not half-n-half like before.”

“Yeah, Skulker’s pretty disappointed about that.”

“Yeah! I ran into Skulker earlier, he was pretty psyched to see me until his scanner said I was just a ghost.”

Fenton sat back down on the bed and sighed. “So, what now? We can’t both be Danny. And apparently we die if we’re not.”

“Well… I asked him about that, and he suggested something… if you’re… up… for it.”

“Why did you ask that in such a tentative voice?”

Phantom stood and began to pace, explaining as he moved. “Clockwork told me that even without me you still have the empty space where my core had been, hence why you still feel my obsession sometimes. It’s an echo. He said that… if I… um… I can fit myself… within in that spot to… recharge. And if I do it for two hours every twenty-four, we’ll be fine. No cancer.”

“…You want to overshadow me for two hours a day?”

“Well, not overshadowing. We’ll be semi-merged during then, he said. I’ll just pop in there and pop out when I’m better. Bonus! You can use my ghost powers while I’m resting inside… you…. There has got to be a better way to say that.”

Fenton crossed his arms over his heart. “What if I say no?”

“Uh, we both die?”

“You’d still be living in a city that hates you, but you wouldn’t be able to get away by transforming into a human.”

“Yeah, that sucks. But dying sucks more. I mean, we could just merge back together into one person.”

Fenton thought about the pull he had at the mere mention of calamity, at the obsessive thoughts in his head whenever he heard a scream, at the drive forcing him to skip sleep, skip school, and to sacrifice himself to protect others. To save a life. But then he thought about the proud looks he’s been getting from his teachers at every completed homework assignment, the healthy glow in his cheeks after sleeping for the entire night, the fun he has with his friends (when they’re not bailing on him). He shuddered. “I don’t want to return to that. I like being human.”

“Well, fine then, I’ll live in your core for two hours a day. You get to use my powers without the pull of my obsession (possibly, I’m not clear on that)! And neither of us get to die!”

Fenton asked, “And how can I trust that you’re telling me the truth?”

Suddenly, a sticky note that wasn’t there before appeared on Fenton’s forehead. He flinched back and hit the wall before he slowly reached up and peeled it off. Written on there was: HE’S TELLING THE TRUTH, DANNY – CW

Fenton placed the sticky note (which, he noticed, came from his school supplies) down. He sighed, “Leave it to Clockwork to show up at the perfect time….” He thought for a moment although he had already made up his mind. Think back on it, he didn’t hate being a ghost entirely. He enjoyed the powers, at least. “…Fine. We’ll do the whole… core-sharing thing.”

“Yes! Now we both won’t die.” Phantom slumped forward and made his way towards Fenton. “Cause, speaking of… I’m very tired right now and I could go for a recharge for like a week.”

“Do you even know how to do this?”

“Meh, I figured I’ll figure it out.”

“Oh my God.”

The ghost hugged Fenton tightly until he phased right inside him. He felt the chill that ran up his spine that wasn’t unfamiliar to overshadowing and couldn’t help but gasp. His breath was visible. And he twitched and wiggled like there was an itch under his skin before the coldness forced onto his heart, forcing itself to one of his most precious and private organs. The coldness seeped deep into it, where it just seemed to… belonged.

Phantom seemed to nestle in to recharge and he felt the coldness settle into a comfortable warmth he hadn’t realized he was missing. It was as if the background noise he hadn’t noticed he lost returned.

Okay, Danny thought, placing his warm human hand over where his cold ghost core laid, I guess I had missed this feeling.