Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, you. Yeah, you. No, not you. The other guy. Yes, you. Do you like tacos?" - Unknown

Jazz

Dad comes in from collecting the mail with a deep frown on his face. A normal family in a normal town would assume that my father is irritated by bills or an influx of junk mail. But, my family is not normal and we live in Amity Park.

I curse myself for not remembering what time of the month it is and getting the mail myself. "Something wrong, Dad?" I ask as if I don't already know.

Dad pulls an envelope out of the small stack. "We got another of these donation requests. I don't know why they keep sending them. No one in this house contributes."

That's what he thinks.

"Oh, and here's your credit card bill."

I thank him and take the envelope, subtly moving my fingers so that I grab the donation slip as well. Dad doesn't notice. He walks away muttering about how he is not looking forward to opening the electric bill - okay, so some things about my family are normal - and I head upstairs to my room.

I shut the door and head over to my desk. I write a check to the credit card company before opening the other envelope. The one that Mom and Dad don't know I fill out every month.

About a year ago, the mysterious ghost known as Danny Phantom - also known as my little brother, Danny Fenton - saved the town from an incredibly powerful ghost called Pariah Dark. Up until then, people were terrified of Phantom for the sole reason that he was a ghost. No matter what he did, so few people understood that he wanted to help them, not hurt them. After that day, it finally clicked with them - besides Mom, Dad, and Valerie - that Phantom was good. More than that. My brother is a hero, whether he acknowledges it or not.

As Phantom's heroic deeds piled up, the town council decided that Phantom deserved to be rewarded. Somehow, it was decided that a donation slip would be sent out each month. The people our hero protects would have the option to give money to a bank account that an anonymous resident - ahem - opened up for Phantom. The account would become accessible to Phantom as soon as he turned eighteen, not that anyone but the anonymous resident knew exactly when that would be.

But, recent events have made that resident decide to open the account a little sooner than planned. And, since today is a special day, that resident is donating one hundred dollars instead of the usual twenty.

Good thing Danny pays zero attention to the mail, or he would have caught on and tried to stop the account from existing. My brother is humble and sees his actions as basic decency. He gets uncomfortable when people try to reward him for his kindness. I'll never forget the look on his face when he found out someone had put up a billboard that said, "Welcome to Amity Park! Home of Danny Phantom!" alongside a huge picture of him. It didn't take long for that billboard to be conveniently destroyed in a ghost attack.

Obviously, that example is a pretty extreme one, but even little things embarrass him. A good example would be when he rescued a Girl Scout who had been out selling cookies with her mother. The two had been attacked by some jerky ghost who wanted those cookies for himself. Danny took care of it, and the girl tried to offer him a box as a thank-you gift. My brother turned bright green - the ghost equivalent of blushing - and tried to say no. But, the family was insistent, so Danny reluctantly accepted a box of thin mints. When the family walked away, Danny stood there and watched them with a tender smile on his face.

Danny may get embarrassed, may claim that he doesn't deserve it, but I know he genuinely appreciates when people acknowledge his kindness. He hasn't had enough of that lately, and it's time to change that.

Today is Saturday, so it's the perfect day to borrow Casper High's gymnasium. When Sam, Tucker, and I ran our idea by the principal, she was more than happy to grant us permission and is even helping me supervise.

Dash and Paulina were in charge of spreading the word about this. After they spent a week making a movie with Phantom (until it was discovered that the director had his own agenda, but that's another story), it became common knowledge that those three were friends. No one questioned it when the two A-listers told them what was going on.

The gym is filled with townsfolk of all ages. Everyone is working hard to put up decorations, and I was pleasantly surprised by how many people brought gifts. We had to grab an extra table from the cafeteria to fit all of them. Having three ghosts here made that a lot easier.

One of them is the Box Ghost, with whom Danny has slowly been becoming close to over at least the last two months. Much to the confusion of all five of Danny's human friends. What they don't know is that the Box Ghost has been letting Danny stay with him when my poor brother is too afraid of our parents to sleep in our house. A fact that I try not to dwell on, but…

The second is a semi-shapeless black ghost appropriately named Shadow. He and his partner, Johnny, started out as Danny's enemies and, like the Box Ghost, eventually became his friends. Shadow was an unexpected arrival, and I have no idea how he found out about this party. He just kind of showed up and started helping with decorations. Even weirder is that there's no sign of Johnny; from what I've seen, the two are always together. But, since Shadow can't talk and seems to genuinely want to help, I'm willing to roll with it.

The third ghost is Eileen Merryweather, whom Danny imprinted on, essentially meaning that she's his second mother. She is tall, would be alarmingly thin as a human, and has no legs, so she is constantly floating unless she shapeshifts herself a pair. She has off-white skin, long black hair, and wholly red eyes. She's a wonderful woman who cares about Danny as much as I do. Though, there was some discourse when we found out that she'd told Vlad Masters about Danny's fear of Mom and Dad. In her defense, she had no idea that Vlad was secretly Danny's arch nemesis, Vlad Plasmius. We let it go because there was no point in being angry about something no one gave her all the facts on. But, I know she still feels guilty.

But, none of that matters right now. Today is all about fun.

I spin around and take it all in. Balloons are being blown. The gift tables are filled. Sam, Tucker, and I picked out the music, so I know it's all stuff Danny likes. The caterers are set to arrive in a few hours, bringing all my brother's favorite foods. Danny's girlfriend is keeping him distracted.

Most importantly, the gym is filled with people who respect and appreciate my little brother, even if the majority don't know exactly who it is we're celebrating.

There's a tightness in my throat as it hits me just how loved my brother is. True, most of these people don't know that Danny Phantom is also Danny Fenton, but it doesn't matter. Because we're all here to celebrate him, regardless of which form it is.

My brother's birthday was last week, and he refused to celebrate it. So, as far as almost everyone here knows, today is the day Danny Phantom turns seventeen.

Danny

Every part of me aches. I struggle against the instinct to shift back into my human-form. But since I'm surrounded by government agents, that would be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. So, my only option is to fall to my knees and prop myself up on my hands and moan in agony. This is what happens when I use the Ghostly Wail.

"The ghost shield is no longer operational," one of the agents says from his position in front of a screen. "And, neither are my ear drums."

"No shit, Sherlock," I mutter, shakily climbing to my feet in spite of my numb legs.

Just over two months ago, I learned that I had begun a process known as the reckoning, which is basically puberty for halfas. The only side effects of this so far have been my eyes turning black when I'm upset and my powers malfunctioning when I'm really pissed off. However, on July 23rd, the final day of the reckoning, all hell will break loose. I will become violent, attack anything in my path, and have absolutely no control and (I hope) no awareness of my actions.

That's why the Guys in White are here. I don't trust them in the slightest, but they're the best chance I have at keeping this town safe on that day.

In a perfect world, I wouldn't need their help. I would be in the Ghost Zone on that day, and Reaper - one of the two ghosts I imprinted on - would keep me under lock and key until the reckoning was over.

Unfortunately, this is far from a perfect world. Clockwork, the Master of Time, informed Reaper that they wouldn't be able to stop me from attacking the town. Being the cryptic bastard that he is, Clockwork gave no information beyond stating that there would be forces outside of Reaper's control. Because that's so helpful!

I like Clockwork, but I also hate him.

I made sure the townsfolk knew what was going on, and I understand that a lot of them are making plans to be far away from here on July 23rd. Smart move.

The Guys in White are a hive mind of thorns in my side, but their technology is incredible. Take the stark white lab we're in, for instance. When the scientists first arrived in their fancy white cars, I thought they were going to escort me to their headquarters. Instead, one Guy pulled out a metal cube that fit in the palm of his hand, threw it, and a small but fully functioning laboratory was there. The sci-fi nerd in me sprang to the surface and bombarded everyone with questions until someone threatened him by pressing the barrel of an ecto-gun to his throat.

I am standing on a platform while we test how my powers hold up against the ghost shield they'd sprung up around me. This one held up longer than the last, but it still can't handle my Ghostly Wail. Since that's my most powerful attack, and I have a feeling the resulting fatigue won't stop me on that fateful day, the shields must be perfected until they can withstand that.

Two months of work, and the shields still aren't good enough. We have a few months until the big day, and I'm hoping that's enough time.

"Phantom," the tall, burly Guy in charge of the group says, "you're done here."

My fatigue is gone in an instant. "Excuse me?"

"We'll go over our latest findings and do more work on the ghost shield," the leader says. "You can get out of our hair."

"You don't get it, do you? I'm still here. I still exist! That means you still turn into me."

There's a stabbing pain in my chest. "I can help," I say. "There must be something else I can do."

The leader's eyes are narrowed behind his sunglasses. These doofuses wear sunglasses even indoors for some reason. "At this point, you'd just get in the way. When we have more for you to test, we'll let you know." I start to object, but he cuts me off. "Don't forget, Phantom. The only reason we're helping you is because," his frown turns into a meaningful grin, "it'll make things easier for us in the long-run." As in, easier for them to take me down. It's a risk I'm willing to take. "But, that doesn't mean we won't attack you if you become too problematic."

My turn to glare at him. "We have a contract." Signed by their overshadowed boss, not that anyone needs to know that. "You can't attack me unless I'm attacking an innocent. Which means that July 23rd will be the only time you're allowed to have your way with me."

His grin widens. "And, we're all looking forward to that day. Now, get out and let us work."

I reluctantly exit the lab, which is located just outside of town. I take to the skies and float over the town, watching everyone mill about, living their lives, so blissfully ignorant of the sheer power that watches them from the clouds.

So frightfully mortal, these humans. So terribly fragile.

So easily I could rip off their skin and snap their bones. Freeze them from the inside. Reduce their homes to rubble with only the sound of my voice.

Don't worry, good people. I will never do such horrible things. On July 23rd, you will all be safe and sound and alive. Keep them alive keep them alive keep-

A sharp, icy breath pulls me away from the ramblings of my core. I scan the area and instantly see who triggered my Ghost Sense. The ghost flying toward me is a human-looking nineteen-year-old with luscious curves, glowing green skin, dark green hair that looks like it's never brushed before, and deep red eyes. She wears a jean jacket over a white shirt, a black skirt, black sneakers, and a purple and black striped beanie.

Mira Scott. My girlfriend. False alarm.

"Well, this is a nice surprise," I say as she floats in front of me. She lives with her human parents in Nebraska, so despite her abilities to open portals and travel across the globe through various electronics, I don't get to see her every day. "I didn't forget about a date, did I?" I ask when the thought hits.

Mira is grinning ear to ear, so I know the answer before she says it. "Nope. Are you saying I'm not allowed to drop in unannounced?"

Now I'm grinning. "I'll never say no to that." I cup her cheek and kiss her soft lips. When we pull away, I ask, "Something with chocolate?"

Mira's Obsession is food, and she's always in the kitchen, so it's become a game for me to guess what she'd been making that day.

"I made red velvet cake," is her answer.

Which happens to be my favorite kind of cake. I put my hands on my hips, slightly miffed. "And, you didn't think to bring me a piece?"

Mira rolls her eyes. "It's for a party, silly."

That pacifies me. "You're catering a party?"

"Just the cake. I can't wait for you to see it!"

"Aha! So I do get to eat some!"

I'd been joking when I said that, but Mira clamps her mouth shut like she'd said too much. She recovers before I can call her out. "Anyway, Danny, I made some ghost friends recently, and they said they know you. Johnny 13 and Kitty?"

"Yeah, I know them," I say. "What about them?"

Mira puts her hands behind her back, and I know something weird and spontaneous is coming. She does this sometimes. Like when I was bemoaning my own self-hatred, and her immediate reaction was to demand a fight to take my mind off things; it worked. Or Christmas night, when Jazz and I were fed up with our parents' fighting, so she brought Bub and Cujo and essentially kidnapped me and my sister for a night of fun; it also worked. The latest idea came when we were hiding from the Guys in White in Tennessee, and Mira dropped everything to sample some authentic Nashville hot chicken; that was just stupid.

Fortunately, this idea is a pretty normal one. "I told them about an amusement park not far from my hometown. They're already there, and I thought we could join them."

"Like, a double date? Right now?" I ask. I suppose that would be okay since I'm already friends with the other party, as long as they don't cause any trouble, that is. However, "I can't. I'm needed here."

Mira frowns. "Do the Guys in White need you for something?"

"Well…no," I confess and rub the back of my neck. "They said that there was nothing else for me to do until they did some more work on the ghost shields. But, I can't leave! Who will protect everyone? There's danger lurking around every corner. This town is a bloodbath just waiting to happen!"

Mira and I look down at the town. It's…quite peaceful. And, I'm starting to feel stupid- Wait!

"See that?" I say and point down at the danger that just cropped up. "That guy ran a stop sign! He could have hit someone!"

"And yet," Mira deadpans, "he did not. Danny, you've been working hard for two months without a break."

"That's not true," I argue. "I took a break on your birthday and on Valentine's Day." I cross my arms. "Like a good boyfriend."

Mira rolls her eyes. "Oh, whoop-dee-doo. You had two days off in as many months."

I swallow a rising growl. "This is serious work, Mira! July 23rd will be around before we know it. When that day comes, everyone needs to be safe! I can't…hurt them. I…I won't!"

Mom. Dad. Jazz. Sam. Tucker. Everyone I love (and Mr. Lancer, whom I like as far as teachers go) was strapped to the big metal tank that would explode if I didn't stop that awful man.

A man who they knew was me but ten years older.

A man whom I refused to become.

"Don't worry," I told them. "I won't turn into that. Ever. I promise."

Mira says my name and grabs my shoulders. I was shaking, and the concern in my girlfriend's eyes doesn't make me feel better. "Danny, you're working yourself ragged. I know how important this is, but wearing yourself out isn't going to help anyone." She lets go of me. "Take the rest of the day off. Let's go hang out with our friends and have some fun. You clearly need it."

I hiss and ball my fists when that stabbing pain returns. I cannot leave! What if something happens, and I'm not here? Who will protect everyone?

I must have spoken my worries, because Mira puts her hands on her hips and says, "You've got Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Valerie here."

Three out of four of them were the first to go. The other breathed her final breath as my white gloves were drenched in red red red. Not him never him keep them alive.

"And, didn't you say that weaponry has already been distributed to all the households? And that everyone received training on how to use it?"

"But…"

"Danny," Mira takes my hands; my gloves are clean, "take a break. You need it."

I need to keep them alive.

But, Mira has a point. I can't protect everyone if I'm exhausted. My core is the slightest bit soothed by the realization.

So, I relent. "Alright. Maybe some mindless fun would do me good. I guess I have been wound kind of tight lately."

"And, I completely understand why." No, you don't, and I don't ever want you to. Mira taps my nose with her finger. "But, today you are going to kick back and have fun." She claps her hands and bounces on her feet on the air. "Maybe you could win me a stuffed animal like the boyfriends on tv!"

"You know all those games are rigged, right?"

"Yep!"

Oh, boy.

Chapter Text

"I'm not a hot mess. I'm a spicy disaster." - Unknown

Jazz

Oh, boy. This is all we need.

Commotion breaks out at the sight of the swirling silver portal that opens up at the gym's entrance. Danny isn't here to help if whatever steps out of that portal is dangerous. We have three other ghosts present, but one could lose a fight with the Box Ghost, one is the Box Ghost, and if anything happens to the third, a certain motorcyclist will have our heads.

Stay calm, Jazz. You have the Fenton Lipstick Laser in your pocket, and everyone present who isn't a ghost has received at least a little training-

A very small spirit floats out of the portal, and I instantly relax. The portal closes, and the ghost gazes around the room in childlike wonder. He throws his hands - one of which is holding two envelopes - in the air and shouts, "There's humans everywhere!"

That elicits some giggles. Not everyone has dropped their guard, but the tension has lessened.

Bub is a baby ghost who died at the tender age of three months. He has light gray skin, red eyes with vertical pupils, and a mop of white hair on his little head. He is grinning ear to ear, showcasing his fangs as he flies around saying hello to everyone, though most of them are strangers to him.

That portal must have been made by Reaper, the other ghost Danny imprinted on. Bub lives at Reaper's lair in the Ghost Zone. I hope that means Reaper accepted our invitation and will be here for the party.

Sam, Tucker, and Eileen have already crowded around Bub, who gives each of them a big hug. Hopefully, anyone not in the know won't read into it too much.

"Hey, Bub," I greet as I walk over to the group.

Bub grins wider and throws his chubby arms around my neck. "Hi, Aunt Jazz!"

I return the hug as Eileen says quietly, "Bub, you shouldn't call her your aunt right now."

"Oh, right!" Bub shoots back in the air and whispers, "Daddy's secret."

Danny's not the only one who imprinted on someone. Bub actually imprinted on Danny, hence why the little guy calls me his aunt.

"So, Bub," Sam says. "Since you're here, does that mean Reaper's coming too?"

Bub doesn't lose his smile, though his response isn't good. "No. They can't come." He waves his envelopes in the air. "But, I have these! One is from Grandper," Bub's name for their grandparent, Reaper, "and one is from me. But, only my Daddy is allowed to open them, okay?"

Tucker gives Bub a salute. "Roger dodger." He takes the envelopes. "I'll go put these on the gift table."

"Why can't Reaper come?" Sam asks when Tucker walks away.

Bub shrugs. "They told me, but I don't get it."

Since Bub is nine months old, that's as good an answer as we're going to get from him.

The news is disappointing, but I suppose it can't be helped. Reaper is an Ancient, known as the Master of Death. The only thing I know about Ancients is that they are the most powerful and respected beings in the Ghost Zone and are supposedly as old as the Zone itself. Reaper cares about Danny as much as I do, so something pretty serious must have happened to make them miss their imprinted son's birthday party.

Still, I know Danny would have loved having them here.

When Tucker returns to the group, Bub wrings his hands, suddenly shy. "Um, Grandma," meaning Eileen, "said that we're gonna do speeches. Can I practice mine, please?"

"Sure, Bub," I say. "Let's practice in the hall. It'll be quieter there."

Bub copies Tucker's earlier salute. "Roger dodger."

"Aw," Tucker coos. He ruffles Bub's hair. "He takes after me."

Sam gives Tucker a smirk and a side-eye. "Then for the sake of all the girl ghosts, I hope he turns out to be gay."

Tucker narrows his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

No one answers. We just swallow our laughter and start for the door. While we're walking/floating, Sam whispers, "All joking aside, should we really let Bub tell everyone that Danny's his father?"

"The man already has a mom and a girlfriend," Tucker points out. "Why not a baby?"

"It's just that Danny's always worrying about his loved ones getting hurt. It's one thing with Ms. Mae," the name Eileen uses during school hours; she's one of their teachers, "and Mira since they're both adults. But, Bub is a baby."

Sam has a point. For the longest time, Danny Phantom presented himself as a loner, and his secret identity was only part of the reason. His biggest fear was that ghost hunters - specifically our parents, the Guys in White, and Valerie before she knew the truth - would use the ghosts he cares about as leverage. Some of his ghost enemies have done that with his human loved ones in the past, so the fear was not unfounded. Not to mention that Valerie did just that with Danielle once.

But, try as he might, Danny couldn't keep his undead loved ones a secret for long. It started when Phantom swooped in and saved Eileen from Mom and Dad. It was in a public setting, and Phantom made it quite clear just how much Eileen meant to him. (Minus the imprinting. We didn't know about that at the time, though I didn't miss how close he came to saying that she was like a mother to him.) After that, everyone and their brother knew the two of them were close. Some even speculated that the two might be a couple. Needless to say, Danny shot that rumor down as soon as he found out about it. ("Oh, gross! I'm not even old enough to vote! Let alone date someone who was around during the Civil War!") A few months ago, Danny slipped and called Eileen "Mama" in front of a news camera, and the truth was out.

Then there's Mira. Their friendship was easy enough to hide until that whole fiasco with the documentary. During the process, Danny and Mira had really fallen for each other, assuming they hadn't before that. Both of them are affectionate people, so when they started dating, there was no hope of it staying a secret. Though, I'm sure Danny tried harder than Mira, as she probably didn't know it was supposed to be a secret. Pictures of the two of them holding hands in a smoothie shop were all over the Internet.

And yet, for all that he tried to keep those two a secret, Danny didn't seem too upset when people found out. Sure, he was uncomfortable at first, but we've all seen him out and about with them. Kissing Mira goodbye after a night of ice skating. Enjoying parent/child night at the movie theater with Eileen. Danny wants them to be safe, but he also enjoys not having to hide them.

I don't know if he's noticed this, but now that the townsfolk know that their hero has loved ones, they've grown to appreciate him all the more. To them, he's starting to seem less like a strange but kind creature and more like a person. Granted, that started once word got out that Phantom has self-esteem issues, but it certainly took off from there.

The monthly donations to his bank account have increased as well. I can't wait to see Danny's face when he sees that number for the first time.

"As long as Bub's careful and stays with Danny or one of us when he's here," I say, "I think it'll be okay."

We step/float into the hallway, and Bub wastes no time. He clears his throat as dramatically as possible and turns to face us. "Danny Phantom is my daddy. He is the best daddy ever. He's nice and-and he protects people from bad guys. He gets scared sometimes, but he still does the scary things. That's called courage, I think."

"It is," I confirm, feeling a lump form in my throat.

"Yeah, Daddy has lots of courage. And, no matter how many scary things he has to do, he always makes sure he can play with me. I love my daddy a lot, and I want him to be my daddy forever and ever and ever. And then I want him to be my daddy after that!" He gleefully throws his arms in the air. He lowers them and says, "That's the end of the speech."

Eileen has her hands pressed together and sounds a little choked up. "That was wonderful, Bub. Your father is going to love it."

"Oh yeah," Tucker agrees. "You're gonna make that man cry!" When Bub gasps in horror, Tucker holds up his hands and almost shouts, "Happy cry! You'll make him happy cry!" Bub relaxes.

"One thing, Bub," Sam says cautiously. "Giving a speech to a room full of strangers is a lot harder than giving it to your friends and family. Think you can do that?"

Bub waves off her concern. "You worry too much. I'll be fine."

What a suspiciously Danny-like thing to say.

Danny

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't be at a Wildwood Amusement Park. I shouldn't be standing here watching Johnny try to win his girlfriend a stuffed pig just because it's her favorite animal.

The only Park I should be standing in is Amity.

My core is screaming. I cross my arms tightly over my chest and hope that the girls are too focused on Johnny to notice my discomfort.

Are the townsfolk okay? Why did I leave them? How could I have been so selfish? How could I act so much like-

I'm not him.

"Johnny," Kitty calls worriedly. "I don't need it that badly."

"Let me do this for you!" her boyfriend shouts stubbornly.

Johnny is standing behind the white line on the ground, as the rules dictate, as he throws balls at the target. The bullseye, which would grant him one of the large plushies, is obnoxiously small. I bet all the money he's wasted on this game that the balls are heavier than they should be as well. The girls and I started out standing close by, but as Johnny got more frustrated, his throws became more wild. Now we're keeping our distance.

He could really hurt someone if he keeps this up. That poor guy working the booth is right in range. If Johnny throws too far to the left, the guy will take a weighted ball to the face. He doesn't look any older than I am. Johnny may not look it, but he's strong. A hit at the right speed from the right angle could shatter that worker's skull.

After another miss, Johnny grunts loudly and stomps up to the booth, much to the worker's amusement. He won't be so amused when his brain is splattered against the curtain behind him!

Help help him save him protect protect protect.

Mira nudges my arm. She's holding the plush elephant, her own favorite animal, that's about half her size that I'd already won for her. I'd made the mistake of interrupting Johnny's attempts and nailing the bullseye on the first try, surprising both of us. My goal had been to help him realize that the game was rigged. My unexpected victory made him more determined because, "If the pipsqueak can do it, then so can I."

"Maybe you could," Mira nods toward Johnny, "give him a hand?"

My thoughts exactly. It feels like my core is throwing itself against my chest, trying to direct me to Johnny, to the danger that human teenager doesn't know he faces.

Johnny stomps back behind the line with three balls in hand, and when his back is turned, I pounce.

Overshadowing someone is comparable to being plunged underwater. It's disorienting, and your instinct is to swim up to the surface. But, that would mean leaving the body you've phased into. You have to ignore that instinct and propel yourself deeper and deeper until you latch on to the mind. Then you don't let go until you're good and ready. It's harder to overshadow other ghosts, more like swimming through maple syrup, but it's doable if you're powerful enough.

I don't like overshadowing. When I first discovered the ability, I had some fun making Dash Baxter - back when he was still bullying me - look like an idiot in front of the school. But once the novelty wore off, I realized how…invasive it was. I was playing puppeteer with sentient beings who had no idea it was happening, and it didn't sit well with me. Nowadays, I only do it in emergency situations.

Or, to the unwary passersby, to end this incredibly pathetic scene.

After latching on to Johnny's mind and taking a moment to orient myself with this body that's taller and bulkier than mine but still slim, I give the girls a thumbs-up. They flash grateful smiles, especially Kitty. The pain in my chest is still there, but it isn't quite as searing.

I aim and throw the first ball. A chime is heard, and the target lights up. When I walk up to the worker, he chuckles and pulls down one of the stuffed pigs hanging over the booth. "You're a better friend than I am. I would have waited to see how long he'd last!"

"Well, the girls were getting worried," I explain. It's strange hearing Johnny's voice come out of my mouth. But then, it's not actually my mouth. I hand over the other two balls and grab the pig, which is the same massive size as Mira's elephant. "I have to say, you've been pretty chill about having four ghosts spend so much time at your booth. I know you don't really see ghosts besides my girlfriend around here."

"I grew up in Gettysburg."

That explains it.

Once I'm back with the group, I release my hold and leap out of the syrupy void that is a ghost's mind. Johnny blinks, utterly disoriented, and his confused ectoplasm-green eyes lock on "his" prize.

"Wow, Johnny," Kitty praises, taking the large pig from him. "Thanks so much for winning this for me!"

"Uh…yeah," Johnny stammers before raising his chin proudly. "I got the aim of a pro sniper."

Sure, when he's using his powers. Even then, his partner, Shadow, does most of the fighting for him. Shadow isn't here today. According to Johnny, the inky black demon stays at their lair when Johnny and Kitty go out together.

"Okay," Mira says. "Now that we've done the sitcom cliche, what should we do next?"

I glance at Johnny. "Maybe something a little less," risky, dangerous, keep them alive, "frustrating."

Johnny glowers at me. "I wasn't at it for that long."

Kitty gives him a pointed look. "Do you have any money left?"

Come to think of it, where did Johnny get that money? I know ghosts don't use it. Actually, it's probably better for everyone if I don't know.

A grimaces passes over Johnny's face, but he covers it quickly. He puts his arm around Kitty, who blushes when he gazes at her and says, "Ah, you know I'll always provide for you, babe." Then, it gets weird. "Really. I can provide for you. Like, all the time. I mean it!"

Kitty steps away. "Okay…"

"I'm serious!"

Mira steps in before this can get any weirder. "So, what's next on the agenda? I'm thinking…bumper cars?" She points her elephant toward the attraction.

The stabbing pain is back. Dread seeps through my veins at the sight of those deathtraps. There is absolutely no protection on those things beyond flimsy seat belts. You could hit someone too hard and tip both cars over. The friction from all those cars in such a small area could start a fire.

Johnny taps his chin, and his eyes lock on something else. "I'm in more of a roller coaster mood, myself."

That's even worse. Moving that fast with, again, nothing but a seat belt holding you down. Screams of joy turning to screams of horror when an innocent rider flies out of their seat. Or, they don't keep their hands and feet inside the ride and lose a body part.

Protect protect protect.

"How about something a little more low-key?" I suggest.

Kitty grins. "Like the ferris wheel! You can't have a date to the amusement park without riding the ferris wheel."

Yes, you can. You can easily have a date without being that high up and falling and do those things even have seat belts and what if the mechanism breaks and you're stuck up there for hours and hours or even worse what if the wheel starts rolling with so many fragile lives-

"Danny," Mira puts her hand on my arm, "you're shaking again."

I yank my arm away and don't meet anyone's concerned expressions and oh god my core. "I'm fine. I just, um-" My Ghost Sense bursts out of me. The perfect excuse. "I should go see what that's about."

I sprint away at top speed, not caring that I'm freaking out the humans.

Until I realize that I could have given someone a heart attack-

Ancients, what is wrong with me today? Even at my worst, I'm never like this!

I hide behind the bathrooms and half-fall into a sitting position. My core is raking its claws against my bones. A moan escapes me, and I instinctively curl into a ball.

But, I can't stay here. There's a ghost nearby who isn't part of the double date. The double date that I'm ruining. Wouldn't be the first time I've ruined something.

"No more painful human emotions to drag you down. Sadly, that freed you up to rip the ghost out of me. And, when my evil ghost-half mixed with yours and my evil side overwhelmed you…"

"What happened to my human-self?" I prompted when Future Vlad didn't continue.

Future Vlad turned away with a harsh grimace. "Some things, my boy, are better left unsaid."

Is that what's wrong? Am I turning into-

No, that can't be right.

It can't be.

But, my core. Why does it hurt so much? I've been fulfilling my Obsession regularly, and I just helped someone mere moments ago, so what's the problem?

Another icy breath causes another flare in my chest. Even my Ghost Sense hurts.

A high-pitched whine breaks me out of my haze, and words cannot describe the relief that floods me when I see that the ghost's appearance was another false alarm.

Cujo has two forms: a small, pudgy, and overall adorable green puppy and a massive, vicious green monster. Fortunately, he only uses the latter form when there's danger.

He has a habit of showing up at odd intervals for a visit, and he always knows where I am. I haven't quite figured out how he does that yet. Ordinarily, Cujo is a ball of energy and greets me with licks and a wagging tail.

But, the little guy can clearly see that something is wrong. He approaches carefully, emitting pitiful whimpers.

"Cujo," I croak out. "Please, go home."

I could crush him so easily, and he would let me. He loves me too much to fight back.

I didn't see him in that future. Surely, he would have found me if he was still…

Cujo settles down beside me, his small body pressed against my side because I'm in too much pain to uncurl and let him rest in my lap. My quivering hand lowers to stroke him, and I don't know if the tears that leak from my eyes are of pain or emotion or both.

"There you are."

I force myself to look up. I'm in too much agony to be embarrassed about Johnny 13 seeing me cry.

Johnny hesitates at the sight but crouches down to my level. "We've been looking for you. What the hell, man? What's-" He notices Cujo. "What's with the dog?"

"His name's Cujo," I say then hiss at another spasm in my chest. "He's my friend. I'm sorry I ran off."

Johnny grits his teeth. This is uncharted territory for us. We've never been vulnerable in front of each other. We're usually those stereotypical guy friends who beat on and insult each other for fun. Or, when one of us - cough Johnny cough - needs to blow off steam.

"Uh…is this, like, a panic attack?" Johnny asks quietly. "I-I could get Kitty. She's better with this stuff than I am."

I bite back another moan. "It's-it's more like a core attack."

Johnny lets out a relieved sigh. "Is that all?" I glower at him, and he raises his hands placatingly. "Hey, we've all been there. You just gotta fulfill your Obsession. It'll fix you right up." I'm not going to tell him that I just did that. "What's your Obsession? Being helpful or something schmaltzy like that? I'm sure we can find someone around here who needs a hand."

Cujo lifts his head and the look in his red eyes reads, "Listen to this man, because I do not know how to help you."

My hand is heavy as I wipe the dampness off my face, trying to preserve what little dignity I have left. "I could help you," I say to Johnny, who raises an eyebrow. "You were going at that game so hard, it could have been mistaken for your Obsession."

Johnny shrugs. "I was frustrated. You know how it is."

But, I didn't miss the look that passed over his face. The thrum of my core is still too strong, but it's different. Instead of being a frenzied assault, the sensation is anticipatory. My core craves providing assistance the same way the lungs crave oxygen.

"Johnny," talking isn't so hard now, "you can't fool me." The ache dulls just enough that I can slowly reposition myself. I turn to face my former enemy and sit cross-legged in front of him. Cujo hops into my lap, and I resume running my fingers through his short fur. "Something's on your mind. What is it?" Johnny's grayish face contorts into a scowl that isn't directed at me. "Come on, biker boy. I just cried in front of you. That frees you up to drop the tough guy act for a few minutes."

After releasing a theatrical sigh, Johnny relents. "Fine. But, keep this between us." I mime zipping my lips. Johnny brushes a loose strand of dirty blond hair from his face. "It's…it's about Kitty."

That surprises me. Usually when he and Kitty are fighting, Johnny's first instinct is to pick a fight with someone else, typically me. "Are you guys having problems?"

A real smile graces Johnny's lips. "No way. Things are great! I love that woman like crazy!" He absently drums his fingers on the sleeve of his leather jacket, sobering. "See…I was hoping to…go a little farther with her, you know?"

"If you're fishing for sex advice, you should know I'm a virgin."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"Hey!"

"But, that's not what I meant. I, well, I got a ring here in pocketspace…"

Pocketspace is essentially an invisible portal that ghosts can store things in and carry around without issue.

"A ring?" I say as I process what he's implying. "You mean, you want to propose?"

"Yeah- Oh, don't give me that sappy look!"

"What sappy look?"

Johnny points at my face with both hands. "That one. Right there. That's the sappy look!"

A chuckle escapes me. "Johnny, I'm the sensitive one between us. I can't help that." He rolls his eyes. "Seriously though, you want to propose to Kitty. That's awesome!"

Johnny crosses his arms, and that scowl is back. "'Want' is the key word. I don't know why I wasted time picking out a ring. She'd never say yes."

His certainty shocks me. "How can you say that?"

He blows out a breath he doesn't need. "Phantom, let me explain something to you. When a girl hits up a guy like me, she's in it for the fun, not the commitment. A classy gal like Kitty would rather marry someone like you, someone who would be able to care for her without screwing it all up."

If my core is still hurting, I'm too dumbstruck to feel it.

Johnny always seemed so sure of himself, confident, arrogant at times. Then again, before they found out that I have insecurities, people would say the same thing about me. Everyone has a side they don't show often, a side that only a select few can bring out. Kitty must be one of those few people for Johnny.

"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit," I say, and he meets my gaze. "You're not perfect, but who is? Kitty loves you. Anyone can see that she's not just in it for the fun. She's in it for you."

"Please," Johnny says bitterly. "Do you know how many times I flirted with someone right in front of her before we got serious?"

I nod. "The same amount of times that she stayed." Johnny says nothing. "She loves you, and you love her. At the end of the day, isn't that all that matters?"

Johnny remains silent, but his lips slowly curl into a soft smile. "Phantom, how can you be this wise? Aren't you, like, twelve?"

I narrow my eyes. "I'm seventeen."

"Really? 'Cause you look twelve."

He grimaces when I flick his nose as hard as I can. He covers the spot instinctively, and I think he's going to punch me. Then, he snorts and we're two idiots sitting behind public restrooms and laughing together. Cujo lets out some happy barks.

Two guys who barely look human - one in a black jumpsuit and one who would fit right in with a biker gang - and a small bright green dog. We're an odd group in this realm, and that's the way we like it.

"Thanks for the talk," Johnny says as we rise to our feet. "And again, don't tell anyone."

I raise my right hand. "I solemnly swear to not tell the world that there is a total marshmallow under all that leather."

"Go to hell."

"I'll meet you there."

He shoves me, and we're back to normal.

With an approving nod, he adds, "Guess I'm not the only one that helped. You're looking better."

I realize that it's true. My chest is sore, but it's a vast improvement from the crippling pain I just endured. I brush my hand over my chest. "Not perfect, but better. Thanks."

Johnny turns away and laces his fingers behind his head. "With that out of the way, let's go find our ladies."

Oh, crud. Mira must be worried sick.

Cujo starts to follow us, but I stop him. "Cujo, if you're gonna tag along, you should stay hidden. They don't allow dogs here."

Cujo obediently turns invisible.

We find Kitty first. She'd been checking around some trash cans near a food booth, still holding on to the plushie when we approached.

"Look who I found," Johnny sings.

Kitty's red eyes hand on me, and she pushes two women out of the way in a mad dash to get to me. The women scurry away from the the girl with the glowing greenish-blue skin and wild green hair.

"Ancient beyond, Danny!" Kitty shouts, scanning me up and down. "What happened?"

If I feel this guilty now, how am I going to feel when we find Mira? "I'm sorry. My core was all jacked up. I just needed to get away from people." I nudge Johnny. "This guy managed to fix me up though." Well enough to function at least.

Kitty gazes sweetly up at her boyfriend-soon-to-be-fiance. "That's my Johnny."

Johnny grins stupidly. The tips of his ears are peeking through his hair, so I can see them turn green. "What can I say?" He wraps his arm around Kitty and pulls her close. "I'm more than just a pretty face."

The intimacy makes me look away. To think, Sam and Tucker tease me and Mira about being "cutesy." At least we don't do it in public. Mostly. There's a good chance I'm a hypocrite.

I spot Mira and excuse myself, though I don't think the happy couple hears me.

Mira's back is to me as she speaks frantically to two guys who have a good two feet of height and two hundred pounds of muscle on her. Yet, those beefy guys are staring at this short girl with a stuffed elephant tucked under her arm as if she'll grind them into paste if they move. I have half a mind to freeze the ground beneath their feet so that they'll turn those looks to someone they should be afraid of. Luckily, Mira is oblivious.

"I'm looking for my boyfriend," she says. She raises her hand a couple inches over her head. "He's about this tall, has white hair and no muscle mass. He's basically a walking noodle."

"Hey!" I huff. "What is this, Pick On Danny Day?"

Mira whirls around, and the guys take the opportunity to flee. Mira charges over to me, her eyes wide and her face a mask of worry. "Are you okay? Why'd you run off? 'Cause I know it wasn't just about the Ghost Sense."

I knew the guilt would be worse. I run a hand over my face. "I'm so sorry, Mira." I place my hand over my chest, which is still sore but bearable. "The truth is my core has been bothering me since we got here."

"Your core? Why didn't you say anything?"

Because I don't know how to explain those awful thoughts. "Because it wasn't that bad at first. But, it got worse and worse until all I could think about was getting away."

Mira places her hand over mine, still on my chest. "But, you're okay now? You look better."

"Johnny talked me through it." I wrap my fingers around her hand and lower it off my chest but don't let go. "I'm not at a hundred percent, but I'm out of the fetal position, so I'd call that an improvement."

"That's good." Mira hugs me as well as she can while an elephant is wedged between us. I bring my arms around her and let myself be soothed by the feeling of her (and her new friend) pressed against me. "Next time, tell me if you're not feeling well."

"I will."

She pulls back, and I already miss her touch. "Do you wanna call it a day?" Mira asks. "We can come back another time."

Yes, my core shouts. Home home save them keep them alive.

That soreness is becoming a little more than sore. But, I don't want to be the reason we stop having fun. "I'll be alright. I just need to sit down for a few minutes."

Mira doesn't seem so sure, but she takes my hand and leads me to a bench. We're seated near that game where you pick a rubber duck from an artificial pond and hope the color on its belly means you get a decent prize. Easily the safest thing in this park.

Mira sets the elephant on her other side and leans against me. "Before you tell me to have fun without you," she says, reading my mind, "let me just say that I'm not moving."

Something invisible bops my foot. Cujo's way of telling me the same thing.

How did I get this lucky?

Johnny still has his arm around Kitty when the two of them approach. It's Kitty who speaks. "Danny, I thought you said you were feeling better."

I must look worse than I thought.

"Danny and I are taking a break," Mira says. "You guys go have fun. We'll catch up."

No. They can't leave my sight. They'll get hurt.

Just like back home. So many dangers. And, I'm the biggest danger there is.

Kitty seemed okay physically, but Johnny was in a wheelchair. No sign of Cujo. No sign of Mira either, but would she and I have even met in that timeline? How did she die then? Did her then-boyfriend still kill her? Did I kill her?

I must have. I killed everyone else. All that blood on my hands.

The spasms start anew.

Chapter Text

"What doesn't kill you fucks you up mentally." - Unknown

Jazz

One minute, I was directing the caterers to where they should set up. The next, something was grabbing me by the arm and yanking me through the wall. Yes, I said through the wall. Ghosts, usually my brother, have made me intangible before, so I recognize the pins-and-needles sensation that crawls over my skin. It's gone as soon as I'm on the other side and the hand releases my arm. I'm standing outside of the school now, and when I see who it was that pulled me out here, I am no happier about it than I was before. If anything, I'm less happy.

Standing at over six feet and perpetually well-dressed and equally well-groomed, Vlad Masters is an imposing presence. And, that's if you don't know that he's also the evil halfa known as Vlad Plasmius. Right now he's in human-form, but that doesn't make him any less intimidating. Not that I'd give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Where is your brother?" is the first thing out of his mouth.

Getting right to the point, huh? "I don't know," I inform him.

His brow narrows further, and he bends forward slightly. "I am in no mood for games, Jasmine. I asked where your brother is."

I fight a shiver, knowing that I have no shot against him if he tries anything. The weight of the Fenton Lipstick Laser in my pocket is a small comfort. "And, I told you I don't know." I'm not lying. Mira didn't say where she was bringing Danny. They could be in Antarctica for all I know.

Vlad grabs me again, but the movement is more aggressive. My arms are pinned to my sides. His fingers are digging into my biceps hard enough to bruise. There's a wildness to his dark blue eyes that I swear flash red for a split second.

Vlad doesn't do this. Straight-up violence isn't his style. Even his fights with Danny are mostly just the two of them bickering. The ones that aren't start when Danny loses his temper.

This isn't normal. I need to get away, but my limbs have gone numb from panic.

"Listen to me, Jasmine," Vlad says, getting in my face. "I know you all are throwing a party for him. Despite the fact that it is not his birthday," he adds with some annoyance. "So, you must have sent him somewhere to keep him away. Where. Did. You. Send. Him." He gives me a rough shake with each word.

"For the last time, I don't know where he is!" I snap. "Even if I did, there's no way I'd tell you!"

Vlad opens his mouth, but he shuts it just as quickly. His face twists into a hard grimace and he releases a soft grunt and presses a fist to his chest.

The perfect opening. The arm he let go of is on the same side as the Lipstick Laser. Moving faster than I knew I was capable of, I pull it out of my pocket, press the tip to Vlad's stomach, and fire. Vlad is thrown back with a cry and lands on his back a distance away. I grip my weapon with both hands and keep it aimed at him.

"Go home, Vlad," I demand, hoping he can't tell how badly I'm shaking. "You weren't invited." Because he hasn't gotten up, a bit of boldness creeps into the fear. "And, if you touch me again, I'll scream so loud that everyone in the gym will hear it! What would they say if they saw the mayor assaulting an innocent girl?"

Vlad doesn't seem to hear me. He slowly peels himself off the ground, still clutching his chest with that tight expression. A heart attack? Can halfas get heart attacks? Is a core attack a thing?

When Vlad gets to his feet, he lowers his hand and schools his expression, but both actions seem forced. "If you see Daniel," his voice is raspy as he switches to ghost-form, "send him my way."

Like that will ever happen.

Once he flies away, I slump my shoulder against the wall, squeezing the laser in my hands, waiting for my pulse to slow.

I recall a not-so-fun fact about cores. If a ghost goes too long without fulfilling their Obsession, they'll become crazed and desperate in their attempts to soothe their core. Is that what's happening with Vlad? If so, what would Danny have to do with it?

My stomach swirls when I remember that we have yet to figure out what Vlad's Obsession is. It's an unknown variable and it must have something to do with my little brother.

This is bad. This is so bad.

I rounded up Sam, Tucker, Valerie, and Eileen and told them what happened. We're in the hallway and talking quietly. They're all shocked not only by my story but by the hand-shaped bruises forming on my arms. I picked the wrong day to wear short sleeves.

"You guys are more familiar with the ghost-side of him than I am," Valerie says. Before discovering Danny's secret and having her world flipped upside-down, she was enthusiastic in her ghost-related work for the mayor. Nowadays, when Vlad gives her an assignment, she has to find ways to work around it. I don't know how long she's known Vlad's secret or how she found out, and we don't know if Vlad's caught on yet. "Is this sort of thing normal? 'Cause he doesn't strike me as the type."

"He's not," Sam says. "Which makes this all the worse."

Eileen asks me, "Have you told Danny?"

"I want to," I say, "but he's been so stressed lately. He needs one day to not worry about everyone."

Sam narrows her eyes. "We can't just not say anything."

Tucker has a finger on his chin. "We could send someone to keep an eye on Vlad, see if he tries anything."

"That's not a bad idea," Eileen says. "But, it would have to be someone Vlad wouldn't suspect. How about Shadow? He can literally blend in with the shadows."

Sam frowns deeper. "Johnny 13 would kill us if something happened to him."

"Screw that," Valerie says. She presses a button on her wristband, and her body is almost instantly covered head to toe in shining red metal. The Red Huntress is in the house. "I got plenty of experience tailing ghosts. I'll see what he's up to and report back."

She takes off before we can stop her.

Danny

I'm half-blind from pain. All I know for sure is that Mira, Kitty, and Johnny had to drag me off somewhere. I might have screamed. I can't remember.

Scenes from that future play over and over in my mind. Amity Park a mere speck on the surface of that ruined world. The sick pleasure in those deep red eyes and that fanged smile. Clockwork didn't fix everything until after the explosion. I watched my own heart get blown to bits.

Home save them not him not him keep them alive.

"I don't understand."

Johnny's voice brings me out of the fog but barely. We're all some distance away from the amusement park. I'm sitting in a new fetal position against a tree. Mira is on one side of me and has her arm around me. On my other side, Cujo is fully visible and is sitting with his head against me. Kitty is standing there with her hand on her chin, and Johnny is pacing back and forth. There is a distinct lack of plush toys. I hope the girls put them in pocketspace and didn't drop them in their mad dash to help me.

"He fulfilled his Obsession," Johnny goes on. "His core should be fine! Or, at least not this bad. What's the deal?"

"You don't suppose it could be a fixation?" Kitty suggests.

Johnny stops pacing. "Oh, I hadn't thought of that."

The groan that crawls out of me has nothing to do with my core's continued attempts to slice my chest open. "Not more freaky ghost shit…"

Cujo whimpers, and Mira takes my hand in her free one and asks, "What's a fixation?"

"Well, as we all know," Johnny starts off, "an Obsession is something that you need to have or do to keep your core healthy and to keep yourself sane. Regardless of what your Obsession is, there's a wide variety of ways that you can fulfill it."

Kitty takes over. "Fixations are more specific than that. Let's say there's a certain thing you want that relates to your Obsession. If you want it badly enough, you become fixated on it, to the point that your core feels deprived even if you fulfill your Obsession every day."

That doesn't explain why I've been seeing danger around every corner nor why that future is so prominent in my head. Save them protect not him. I moan through another spasm. Mira gently shushes me, and Cujo nuzzles my hip.

"Are fixations common?" Mira asks, sounding worried for both me and herself.

"Not really," Johnny says. "From what I hear, they only happen when some kind of trauma is involved."

Now it all makes sense.

Ever since I learned about my upcoming reckoning, all I could think about was how similar it sounded to that future and that version of me. All halfas go through the process, and Tucker managed to obtain footage of Vlad's so that we'd have some idea of what to expect.

I shake with my core as that footage plays through my head. A town destroyed. Blood and bodies and gore. The similarities were too much.

And, looking back…

We were all in my room, me, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker. Jazz had backed away in horror. Tucker had his hand on the wall to steady himself while he took deep breaths to calm his stomach. Sam was pacing the room, babbling reassurances that meant nothing.

I was frozen in my seat at the computer. My mind was plagued by scenes that hadn't happened yet and never would.

Or, so I thought. Until I saw what my halfa puberty would entail.

Clockwork said that Reaper wouldn't be able to stop me from attacking the town.

At the thought, a sharp pain speared my chest. I doubled over and moaned, barely feeling my head bump into my keyboard.

"Danny?" Tucker said. "You okay? Uh, physically, that is?"

The pain left as quickly as it appeared. "I-I don't know," I replied, pressing my hand to my chest. "I don't know what that was."

Now I do. I've had a fixation for two months, and I had no idea.

"I think I know what I'm fixated on." I sigh, and it hurts. "I need to get home."

Mira squeezes my hand and offers a kind smile. "We'll take you home, then. Can you stand?"

I nod. My core relaxes a little at the idea of going back to Amity Park, back to where people know that I'm the good guy. Except for my human parents, but there's an exception to every rule.

It takes some effort and Mira and Johnny lifting me up on both sides, but I make it to my feet. "I'm sorry about all this," I say.

"It's not your fault," Kitty assures. "These things happen."

Only to me.

"Kitty and I got places to be anyway," Johnny says.

Mira turns away and presses the backs of her hands together. When she pulls them apart, a large yellow-green vortex forms. Portal Creation is one of the rarest ghost powers in existence, and my girlfriend was lucky enough to have had it since the day she died. I've actually been learning that power, myself. I did manage to make a few portals, but they only stayed open for about three seconds. Practice makes perfect, as they say.

Mira turns back to me. "We'll come back another time. No worries."

"You have your plushies, right?" I ask the girls.

Mira gives me a stern look, and Kitty says, "That's not exactly a priority, Danny."

"In his defense," Johnny says, "we did spend a lot of money to win those things."

I look up at him with a sardonic smile. "We?"

He finally lets go of me and points in the direction of the amusement park. "Do you want me to smash your face in the Duck Pond?"

Oh, great. Here, I was thinking that was the safe game. I throw my arms over my chest and almost fall over when another spasm hits.

Johnny flinches. "Uh, I'm gonna grab the plushies. Leave the portal open for me."

"Will do," Mira says as he takes off.

The girls each rest a hand on my back, and Cujo is right behind us when we step through the portal. There's the rush of wind that accompanies portal travel, and suddenly we're in the Ghost Zone. Another portal later, we're standing in front of the sign that welcomes visitors to Amity Park. (The new sign that doesn't have my name and face on it. It took a long, long talk with the town council to get it that way.)

I run around the sign to look at the town, and my knees give out. "It's still standing," I breathe.

"Everything is right where you left it," Mira says.

Cujo is panting happily. He must sense how much my core has calmed. It still isn't perfect, but the contrast to how I felt a minute ago is immense.

"So, what?" Kitty asks. "You were fixated on…protecting the town? Don't you do that all the time?"

"It's different," I say. She doesn't need to know the details. I climb to my feet. The action is so much easier now. "Home sweet home."

There's a quiet swish behind us, and Johnny steps out of the portal, which closes as soon as he hits pavement. He has one plushie tucked under each arm. "Ladies," he says, handing Kitty her pig and Mira her elephant.

I rub the back of my neck and look away. "Guys, I really am sorry for ruining our fun. I know it's not my fault, but it feels like it, you know?"

"Danny," Mira coos, "you're the only one who's mad at you."

"I know," I say miserably.

Johnny slaps my back. "Ah, lighten up, pipsqueak. We still had a good time. And, you did alright, all things considered," he adds with a meaningful glance at Kitty.

"Let's try again once you're back to your old self," Kitty says. "The fixation will go away once you've dealt with the thing you're fixated on."

I'm too afraid to ask what will happen if I can't do that.

"In the meantime," Kitty says to Johnny, "we should go see how Shadow's doing."

"He'll be surprised to see us back this soon," Johnny says as he pulls out his motorcycle key. He presses a button, and his ride comes zooming in out of nowhere. He hops on, and Kitty stores her pig in pocketspace, takes a seat behind Johnny, and wraps her arms around him. "Take care of this guy," Johnny says to Mira. "Ancients know he won't do it himself."

"This really is Pick On Danny Day, isn't it?" I whine.

Johnny and Kitty laugh and shoot down the street. When they mentioned Shadow, I thought they would use that device Johnny stole from my parents to head back to the Ghost Zone. This can only mean that Shadow has been roaming around Amity Park this whole time. Fortunately, Shadow is harmless unless Johnny is directing him otherwise.

"I'd like to do a sweep of the town," I say. "If that's okay."

Mira tucks her elephant into pocketspace and links her arm with mine. "I'll come with you. A patrol date could be fun."

"Or, incredibly dangerous, depending," I retort. Mira narrows her eyes, and I relent. "Alright, but if there's trouble, let me handle it."

"I can fight," she argues.

A smile pulls at my lips. "I know. But, you can't stop me from protecting you."

She smiles back. "I know."

Cujo barks a few times and crouches with his tail wagging and his purple tongue lolling.

"Cujo," I say, "why don't you patrol the ground for us?"

With an affirmative yap, Cujo bolts down the street. He has enough experience with fighting that I don't have to worry too much about him.

Mira and I take to the skies with our arms still linked. At some point, our hands join together as we sail over the town. It's peaceful. No evil ghosts. No evil humans. No trouble to be found.

Exactly how it should be.

There is one thing that sticks out, however. We stop near Casper High, where my Ghost Sense goes off, and I comment, "Huh. That's an awful lot of cars at school for a Saturday."

"That's where the party is. And, I'm not the only ghost who was invited. You're probably sensing the others," Mira says, lightly tugging on my arm. "The party starts at six. We have some time."

"Party?" I ask. "Oh, right. You made the cake." I glance down at all the cars parked in the lot and on the street. "Must be for something pretty important."

Mira grins. "It sure is."

She pulls me forward before I can ask any more questions.

We continue to soar, and the party is quickly forgotten. The streets are mostly empty, save for the occasional car. A few people see us from their windows. One person even shouts, "Happy birthday, Phantom!" for some reason.

"Uh, thank you," I call back. To Mira I say, "That was odd."

Mira shrugs with that same grin. Why do I feel like she knows something that I don't?

Soon enough, we've scanned the whole town. I let out a content sigh. "Everything seems to be in order. It's a good day when that happens."

Mira has her hands on her hips. "Danny, does your fixation have anything to do with your reckoning?"

Good mood shattered. "Why do you ask?"

She pulls on her denim jacket. "It just seems to fit. The timing, I mean. You've been working nonstop on the reckoning preparations. Now you're fixated on protecting the town."

Should I tell her? What would she think of me if she knew who she was dating, what I'm truly capable of? Would she look at me the same way?

I had the same fears when I told Jazz, Sam, and Tucker, but it was different with them. Those three were there when it all went down. Clockwork may have altered things so that they had no memory of the worst parts, but those three didn't lose faith in me once during the whole ordeal. They still loved me, even after I told them what I went through and how much it scared me.

Mira loves me, too. And, I love her. She's the one who reminded me that people in love "put up with the other person's shit." She's put up with a lot, and I hope this doesn't send her over the edge.

"It's kind of a story," I warn. I rub my arm and don't look at her. "Kind of a gruesome one, actually."

Mira is silent for a moment. "I'll listen."

I know she will.

We touch down on the nearest roof, leaving us lying on our backs on top of the mall, and I tell her about Dan.

I start at the beginning, with my encounter with Box Lunch, the future daughter of the Box Ghost and the Lunch Lady. ("Ew," Mira says. I reply with, "My thoughts exactly.") I go on to explain how this led me to finding the CAT answer sheet. I tell her about my first meeting with Clockwork, and it's all downhill from there.

That future. Ten years from now - or, nine years at this point - where I was a thing that can't be described as anything but a monster. I was the cause of the destruction of presumably the entire planet, with so few survivors if any after Valerie. And yes, I mention Future Valerie's demise because now that I've started talking, it's all pouring out of me.

My voice hitches when I tell Mira how Dan came to be. Mr. Lancer knew I'd cheated on the CAT and called my family to the Nasty Burger to show them where people who fail the test end up. I don't know why Sam and Tucker were there. I don't know what caused the vat of Nasty sauce to overheat.

The explosion. They were all caught in it.

I don't know why I survived.

Overwhelmed by grief, I begged Vlad to find a way to end those awful feelings. Future Vlad didn't give me all the details, but I have no doubt that if he hadn't made the hurt go away…I would have.

Although, it might have been better if I had. Vlad's solution had been to separate my ghost-half from my human-half. From the sound of things, my ghost-half got all the emotions. It attacked Vlad in a blind fury, using Vlad's own invention to separate the two halves of him-

"Wait, time out," Mira says, rolling on to her side. "You're talking about Vlad Masters, right? The mayor of this town? He's half-ghost?"

Oops. "Oh, I guess you didn't know. Yeah, he's actually Vlad Plasmius." Her mouth falls open. "Don't tell anyone. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Valerie and Eileen know. But, no one else. If you recall, he and I have an 'if you tell my secret, I'll tell yours' thing going so… Just-just keep it under wraps, okay?"

Mira stares at me for a while before shaking her head clear. "I'll-I'll process that later." She lays back down. "Continue."

I take a deep breath. "For whatever reason, my ghost-half overshadowed Vlad's. Don't ask me how it worked, but our ghost-halves ended up fused together. And, the darkness in Vlad overtook the good in me." Another breath, this one shakier. I rest my arm over my eyes. "And then, it was Dan."

"What about your human-half?" Mira asks quietly.

"Vlad made it sound like I didn't want to know."

"Danny…"

I force myself to keep going, to keep the worst part of me on display for this woman whom I hope with every fiber of my being doesn't flee.

The hardest part is the final showdown. When Dan tried to ensure his existence by recreating his - my - fate. He had everyone I loved and Mr. Lancer strapped to the overheating vat of that sauce that I haven't been able to stomach since. It was a race against the clock. By some miracle, I came out on top and Clockwork reset everything.

But, not before I watched the Nasty Burger explosion play out in front of me. With everyone in the center of it.

I'm relieved when I finally finish the story. I lower my arm off my face and battle the moisture in my eyes.

"Say something," I beg when the silence goes on too long.

The silence continues to the point that I think Mira left. Then, "Remember when we were making the movie, and you refused to fight me? You said you were worried you'd destroy me. I guess now I know why." I lace my fingers through hers to steady myself. She squeezes back. "But, Dan is gone now, isn't he? And, the explosion never happened. You and Clockwork changed the future."

"It doesn't feel like it." That loud boom. The smell of smoke and grease and blood. The sight of plaster and glass and what I hope was beef and sauce but wasn't. It's all so clear in my mind. "Every time I think I've moved past it, something reminds me. And with all this reckoning business, it's all I can think about." I scrub at my dry face, fist my hands in my hair, relish the feeling of real hair and not flames, willing myself to stay strong. "That's the fixation. Keeping myself from becoming that. Keeping that future from happening."

"It won't happen," Mira says. She's back on her side, and the sweetness of her smile makes me want to roll into her arms and weep. "Because you won't let it happen. You're not that person Danny."

I look away and stare up at the cloudless blue sky. I'm telling myself that it's the brightness of the sun that's making my eyes wet, even though that hasn't been an issue since I got my powers. "What if I am?"

Mira moves closer and touches my cheek, gently moving my head so that I can't look anywhere but her own damp eyes. "That only happened 'cause of Vlad, right?"

"No." I roll on to my side and prop up my head in my hand. "It was because of me. All I wanted was a good grade, and look what it got me." My head must be more screwed up than I thought, because I start giggling. "A test. I cheated on a test." My giggles dissolve into hysterical laughter that makes me fall on to my back once more. "All of that! Because of-of a fucking test!" My laughter morphs into sobs that I choke down as soon as they appear. I throw my hands over my face and keep them there when I'm able to speak. "I'm so sorry. Ugh. I wasn't this bad when I told the guys. There's just been so much in my head lately." I lower my hands and sniff back more tears. "And, it's worse now, because I have so much more to lose. You and Mama and Grim and Bub- Oh God, I'm a father now. And, there's Dash and Paulina and…and so many people count on me."

My broken words are met with more silence. After far too long, Mira speaks. "You know what I think?" I still can't look at her. "I think you wouldn't have all that if you were like Dan. You certainly wouldn't have me. For whatever it's worth."

My core hums happily. "It's worth a lot."

She snuggles against me. I wrap her in my arms and finally let myself cry.

Chapter Text

"Really, a birthday is just a celebration of the fact that you haven't died yet." - FanGirl210

Jazz

An hour later, Valerie is back in the gym, her mechanical suit no longer present. I'm relieved at the sight.

Unfortunately, Dash spots her before I do. "Where have you been, Grey?" he asks while descending a ladder. I and the rest of the Ghost Getters are the only ones who know about Valerie's secret identity. "I thought you cared about Phantom now. Unless you left because you've got something up your sleeve?" he asks, a hidden threat in his voice.

Valerie meets his disdain with a smug look. "Two words, Dash: cramps and bloating." That shuts him up.

Dash, Paulina, and the rest of us are close with Danny and know his secret. But, that doesn't make us all friends with each other. There's a reason Sam and Paulina have been on opposite sides of the gym this whole time.

I lead Valerie to a corner of the room, and we speak in hushed tones. "How'd it go with Vlad?" I ask.

"He flew around town for a while then went back to his mansion," Valerie reports. "Here's hoping he stays there."

That does little to reassure me.

Someone calls my name. I turn around and see Principal Ishiyama. "Sorry to interrupt, but the news van just arrived."

"News van?" Valerie and I exclaim at once.

We push past the principal but are too late to stop the broadcast. Lance Thunder - tall, blonde, and handsome - stands in front of a camera with a microphone in his hand. "This is Lance Thunder coming to you live from Casper High's gymnasium. We are just moments away from the big event: a surprise birthday party for our very own Danny Phantom!"

Lance goes on to list Danny's accomplishments, including how he's been working hard to ensure the town's safety on his reckoning's last day. Lance also mentions that it's high-time we paid him back for all that he's done for us, something we can all agree on.

Sam, Tucker, Dash, and Paulina rush over to join me and Valerie in panicking. We all know that when it comes to being on the news, Danny tolerates it at best.

"Who told the news people about this?" Sam asks.

"No one needs to tell them," Tucker laments. "They just show up!"

"Should I get rid of them?" Dash says. "I'm a big guy. I could probably muscle them out the door."

Paulina glances up at Eileen, Bub, Shadow, and the Box Ghost, who are hovering near the ceiling and looking like they don't know what to do either. (How much of this Bub understands is debatable.) "Or, we could sic the ghosts on them. That would get the job done a lot faster."

I check the clock on the wall and cringe. "Not fast enough. Danny and Mira will be here any minute." I see something out of the corner of my eye and groan. "Now they're here too?"

Although, considering that Shadow is here, I should have known that Johnny and Kitty would make an appearance. The undead couple phases in through the wall, and I'm surprised to see Kitty with Cujo in her arms.

While Dash, Paulina, and Valerie most likely don't know Johnny and Kitty from Adam, the rest of us are quite familiar. And since Johnny dated me once as a trick to get Kitty out of the Ghost Zone, it's safe to say that I have the most…unique perspective on those two. But apart from that incident, they only cause trouble when they're having a lovers' spat. Since there's no sign that such a thing has happened, I think we're in the clear. Just in case, I offer to talk to them myself and break away from the group.

Shadow throws himself at Johnny and twirls around his master. Johnny smiles and greets, "Hey, big guy. You have fun today?"

Shadow gurgles and dives into Johnny's actual shadow.

Meanwhile, Cujo leaps out of Kitty's arms and runs up to me. I bend down to scratch his ears. Then Cujo runs off - based on the coos behind me, he's greeting Danny's friends - and I straighten. "What are you guys doing here?"

Kitty cocks her hip. "We're here for the party, duh. We just happened to run into Cujo on the way and thought he'd wanna join in on the fun. Mira enlisted us in keeping Danny distracted," she adds at my confusion.

I decide not to ask how they kept Danny distracted. "So, where are they now?" I say instead.

Johnny waves his hand between himself and his girlfriend. "Do we look like their keepers? They're probably off making out or something."

I'm about to say more when Eileen calls out, "Hey, everyone!" She must have gone outside, because the top half of her is now sticking out of the ceiling. "The birthday boy is on his way!"

Too late to worry about the news van or the party crashers. It's showtime.

Everyone hurries to the bleachers. Not everyone in town was able to come, but there are still those who have no choice but to sit or stand around the bleachers. I'm the only one standing by choice, as the "anonymous resident" elected me to be the spokeswoman for the event.

I run to one end of the gym and grab the microphone off the stand. My heart is racing. In mere seconds, my little brother is going to get the surprise of his life.

The back doors open. Mira steps in first, pulling Danny in by the hand.

I hear him say to her, "You still haven't told me what this party is for."

Everyone in the gym screams, "Surprise!" and Danny has his answer.

Danny

What. Is. Happening.

The gym is covered in balloons and streamers. Along the wall on the opposite end of the room are tables I recognize from the cafeteria. Some of them have what look like cloches of food, including what must be the cake Mira made, and some have presents. The bleachers are crowded with people, and the unlucky ones who couldn't fit are sitting or standing nearby. Cujo is sitting with his tongue out and his tail swishing like crazy. Bub has his little arms around the dog-ghost that is roughly (ha ha, ruff-ly) the same size as him. Eileen, Johnny, Kitty, Shadow, and the Box Ghost are floating over one of the bleachers. Lance Thunder and a cameraman are capturing my dumbfounded expression. Jazz is standing on the other side of the gym with a microphone in her hands and a look of limitless pride on her face.

I'm too confused to do anything but point and give Mira a questioning look. She laughs. "It's your birthday party, silly!"

But…it's not my birthday. I want to point that out, but I still can't form words.

Jazz taps the microphone a few times to get everyone's attention. "Let's give a big hand to the man of the hour: our local hero, Danny Phantom, who is officially seventeen years old today!"

No, I was officially seventeen last week. The sheer volume of all that clapping and cheering startles my brain back to life. Mira lightly shoves me toward Jazz before taking a seat next to Bub and Cujo. Not knowing what else to do, I walk forward until I'm standing next to my sister.

I don't get the chance to ask about the distinctly hand-shaped bruises on her arms. My Ghost Sense chooses that moment to send a cold breath out of my mouth. That means there must be a ghost I can't see nearby. I don't want to cause a panic, so I conjure a duplicate to outside the building and let it do a sweep of the surrounding area. With any luck - which I could use more of these days - the mystery ghost is a benevolent one.

Jazz speaks to the crowd. "We're all here to celebrate Phantom and to thank him for all the good he's done for this town." Another round of applause. "So, Phantom, is there anything you'd like to say to everyone? Including the folks at home," she adds sheepishly, glancing at Lance and his cameraman, "since we didn't have time to get rid of the news crew?" That elicits a few chuckles from the audience and a barely restrained scowl from Lance.

Jazz is holding the microphone in front of me. "Um, yes," I say. "Am I the only one in this room who has no idea what's going on?" More people laugh. "That-that wasn't a joke. I am so lost right now."

"Roll with it, man!" someone shouts. It sounds like Tucker.

"You've earned it!" That one sounds like Sam.

Now the entire audience is screaming their agreements. My heart swells. My core feels better than it has all day. It's starting to sink in that these people threw a party for me. I don't know who made up a birthday for Phantom, but all these people came to celebrate me. And, that camera is there so that the people who didn't come can still enjoy the party. My party.

That means the food is for me. The presents - so many presents - are for me. Mira made the cake for me.

This is all for me.

My next bout of Ghost Sense is just shy of a sob. The only thing keeping me together is the fact that, based on the mental check-in, my duplicate hasn't found the mystery ghost yet.

The look on Jazz's face tells me that she's dangerously close to hugging me in front of everyone. She reigns it in and addresses the crowd once more. "Maybe we should start with the speeches. That might help our hero understand."

"Speeches?" I ask.

Jazz leads me to my "throne," as she calls it - it's actually a chair someone brought in from one of the classrooms and sat under the basketball hoop - and pushes me into the thing. While she does that, at least half of the audience makes their way down the bleachers. This must have been discussed ahead of time, because it's very orderly and everyone seems to know their place in line.

How long have they all been working on this? How did they manage to keep it from me? No, I know that answer. Between the reckoning preparations (possibly spurred on by my fixation), school, and not totally neglecting my friends and family, you could have thrown an invitation in my face and I wouldn't have noticed.

I hear Lance explain to the camera how everyone who wanted to say something had their place in line selected through a random drawing. At that, Jazz leans in and whispers to me with a wink, "The drawing might have been the tiniest bit rigged."

Seeing as all the people I'm closest to are in or near the front, that doesn't surprise me.

While everyone is distracted, I sneak my fingers over Jazz's bruises and use my Healing Touch to get rid of them. She mouths a thank you - I will ask about that later - and puts the microphone on its stand. What does surprise me is that her spot is at the end of the line. To alleviate suspicion, perhaps?

While all this is going down, my Ghost Sense hits again. This time, it is followed by something unseen landing on my shoulder. It feels like a hand with long, thin fingers. Just as I'm about to take a swing at whatever's behind me, a disembodied voice stops me.

"Do not react, child." That voice is always calm and quiet, but now it is a whisper against my ear. "I prefer to remain unseen."

"Grim?" I barely breathe.

Eileen isn't the only ghost I imprinted on. Reaper, whom I dubbed "Grim" after learning that a lot of kids make up names for their nonbinary parents, is the Ancient known as the Master of Death. While it is not unheard of for an Ancient to make an appearance in the human realm, I'm still surprised that Reaper's here.

I follow their instructions and keep my eyes on the forming line. Reaper continues their whispers. "When I was given the invitation, I confess that I was hesitant. But, I love you, my son. And, I will not miss your party." The line is almost complete. Reaper removes their hand. "We will talk more later. Until then, you will not see or hear from me. But, know that I am present."

The line wraps halfway around the gym. All these people, including my grim, have something to say, and I know it's all going to be nice.

I'm not going to make it through this with my heart intact.

With a flurry of eager yaps, Cujo runs up to me and plops his butt down by my seat. I reach down to give his head a scratch, and the show begins.

Sam is the first one up. She marches to the mike stand with that effortless confidence she's had as long as I've known her. She throws her arm toward me. "Get a load of this guy. It's hard to believe everyone used to think he was some sort of monster. Who would've guessed we'd all come together to throw a party for him? But then, why wouldn't we? He's always there for us, whether he's saving our butts or simply being our friend. I'm no stranger to volunteer work, but Danny Phantom?" She throws a smile at me over her shoulder. "You are something else."

My vocal cords have stopped working again.

"And as a goth," she continues, "let me add how much I love your look. Even though your hair isn't black."

I'm not the only one who laughs, though I am one of few who gets the true punchline.

Sam heads back to her seat, and Tucker takes over. "Friends. Colleagues. Available females my age." That draws some groans from the crowd. "Danny Phantom is the kind of guy you want on your side, and boy, are we ever glad he's on ours! But, he's more than a superhero. He's one of the people. He's got his hobbies and insecurities. He puts one foot in front of the other like the rest of us. When he's walking, that is." Tucker takes the microphone off the stand and turns to face me. "At the end of the day, Phantom is an all around great guy, and that's why we like him." He replaces the mike and adjusts the stand for the next person, and everyone claps as he walks away.

There's already a knot in my throat. How am I going to survive the rest of this?

Next is a black girl who is ten years old if she's a day. I think her name is Riley. Her voice quivers with nerves as she speaks. She's the Girl Scout I rescued from a ghost a few weeks ago, and she talks about the incident and how grateful she was that I stepped in. She finishes by saying how she wants to be as brave and kind as me when she gets older, and I just about melt.

"Riley," I say as she starts to run off. She whirls on me, looking shocked either because I spoke to her or because I know her name. "Next time, I'm paying for those thin mints." She wouldn't let me after I saved her.

Riley's eyes get huge. She jerks forward as if she wants to come closer but turns tail and flees to her parents. That's okay. If there's a merit badge for public speaking, I'll give it to her myself if I have to.

Two people and two more batches of sweet words later, Paulina steps up to the mike, giving her hair a quick fluff. "I think it's safe to say that I'm one of the few people who knew Danny Phantom was good before everyone else did. And, I'm certain I'm not the only one who's ever had a crush on him."

That sparks some agreeing murmurs. I look away as my face turns green.

"I always saw Danny as some unstoppable force. Someone who laughed in the face of danger and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty but was still unbelievably kind. But after getting to know him during that whole movie fiasco, I realized that there was more to him than that. We all know by now how badly he was wronged in life. Which means we all know how admirable it is that he's using his powers for good despite how he was treated." Her words are a little stilted at this point. "It's because of him that I saw what words can do to a person, even someone as strong as him. Danny's the reason I wanted to change, so…" She picks up the microphone and turns toward me with a sincere smile. "Thank you, Danny. And, if you ever decide that you've had enough of Mira…"

I cup my hands around my mouth. "Get off the stage!"

Everyone laughs, and Paulina rolls her eyes with a mumble that sounds like, "It was worth a shot."

I can't tell if she's joking or not.

As if fate is playing a joke of its own, Mira is next in line. "I first met Danny the morning after I died. Needless to say, I was scared out of my wits. Danny did everything he could to help me. At the time, I thought he was some super cool tough guy. But as I got to know him, like Paulina, I saw how much more there was to him. He's incredibly sweet and a massive nerd. Seriously, don't get him started. I asked him a simple question about constellations once, and he would not shut up."

The laughter from the audience gets louder when I retort with, "Hey, Aries has a very rich history!"

Well, it does!

Mira is holding the mike and looking at me now as she shakes her head fondly. "Danny Phantom isn't perfect, but…but I love him, and I wouldn't have him any other way."

"Awwww," goes the crowd.

My meager pulse quickens. I can't resist. I get out of my seat to place a soft kiss on Mira's lips right in front of everyone. They all whoop and clap, and I hear someone call out, "Get it, Phantom!"

Both our faces are green - hers more so than usual - when we pull away. She half-skips half-floats away, and I reclaim my seat.

The next person is a man who fancies himself a comedian. "I know someone who's getting laid tonight!"

An alarming amount of people find that funny. I don't dare check Mira's reaction. I just duck my head as my cheeks cool and I contemplate turning invisible.

Embarrassing joke aside, he and the three people after him all had kind things to say and stories about me to tell. One of them was an elderly man with a cane who told everyone how he came to me after his wife died to ask if she'd become a ghost. I'd called Reaper then and there and asked them. Saying no to that man was harder than I can put into words. Still, he'd been comforted to know one way or the other.

The reminder of that day hits me hard. Especially when the man - Harold, is his name - finishes his tale by walking over to me to pat me on the shoulder with a teary smile that I return.

I'm really not going to make it through this.

Harold bends down to pet Cujo, who doesn't let him get that far and starts licking his hand. With a chuckle, Harold gives up and walks back to his seat.

Dash is next in line, and he saunters up to the mike with all the arrogance you'd expect from the star football player and former school bully. "I'm not a words guy," Dash begins, "so I'll make this quick. When Danny first showed up I thought of him as the embodiment of manliness. Tough as nails, doesn't take shit from anyone. I can't tell you how shocked I was to find out he was a nobody as a human. Really makes you think. So, uh, yeah." He turns halfway and gives me a finger gun. "Thanks for making me think, man."

"Somebody had to," I tease, drawing some giggles.

Dash flips me off as he walks away.

Eileen is next. She floats to the microphone in all her spectral glory. I'm happy to see that she feels comfortable enough to get up in front of everyone in her true red-eyed, emaciated, generally inhuman form. Maybe one day she'll stop shapeshifting into a human body when teaching.

"For those who don't know," she begins, "there's this thing among ghosts called imprinting. It's what happens when someone who dies as a child meets an older ghost whom their core deems a suitable fit. Basically, it's a form of adoption. That's what happened between Danny and myself. We aren't related, not that we know of, but we're mother and son in the ways that count. I'm real proud of him and all the good that he does. I didn't get the chance to have my own children when I was alive, and out of all the young ghosts in the Infinite Realms, I couldn't be happier that Danny Phantom is the one I call my son." She turns and meets my wide grin with her own. "Sit up straight, young man. No one likes a sloucher."

"Seriously?" I snap, obeying despite myself.

Over the roar of laughter, Eileen shrugs. "You gotta let me embarrass you sometimes."

Ugh.

She floats up to me and whispers, "FYI, Bub's been bragging about how he imprinted on you, so don't be too surprised by his speech."

That gives me pause. It's enough of a risk having my relationships with Mira and Eileen out in the open. If someone wants to use them against me, at least I know they can fight back if they have to.

Bub isn't even a year old. His only combat-based power is the Ghostly Wail, and while that is very effective, it's also incredibly draining on the user. He's been targeted by the Guys in White before. They know what he looks like, and they know he has that power. If they decide to come after him again because they found out he's my son, they'll be better prepared. And, what about my human parents? They'll do whatever it takes to get to me. They won't care if they have to hurt an infant to-

"My turn! My turn!" Bub flies up to the microphone but faces me. The innocent glee on his pudgy gray face almost makes me forget my worries. "I will do the best speech!"

I force a smile. "I can't wait to hear it."

Please be safe, little man. That's all I ask.

Bub spins around and faces the audience. We all wait for him to speak, but nothing happens. He just floats there, unmoving.

My heart sinks, and my core buzzes. I don't know if Bub has ever done something like this before. Stage fright must be hitting him hard. "Um, Bub?"

Nothing.

"Is he okay?" I hear someone ask.

Daddy to the rescue. I stand up. "I-I'm gonna…grab this," I say. I tiptoe up to my son, terrified of startling him. I carefully nestle him in my arms and wince at the wide-eyed, open-mouthed fear that's frozen on his face. "Bub? Bub?"

Bub blinks back to reality. His fear is forgotten as he gazes at me with happy reptilian eyes. "Did you like my speech, Daddy?"

Bless this child. "I loved it!" I say, putting as much enthusiasm as I can into my voice. "In fact, I loved it so much, I'd like to hear it again. When we're completely alone."

"I did a good speech," Bub says proudly.

"Yes, you did." I turn to the audience and throw some threatening green energy into my raised hand. "And, no one is going to tell you otherwise."

Everyone is smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

"C'mere, tyke," Eileen calls. She is floating over the bleachers with the other adult ghosts and has her arms outstretched. "Come hang out with Grandma."

"Grandma!" Bub cheers, flying out of my arms and in Eileen's direction. "Grandma, I did a good speech!"

Based on the resounding amused noises, I'd say Bub has already won the townsfolk over.

Valerie is next, and I hear some apprehensive murmurs. Before discovering my secret, Valerie was as vocal about her hatred of ghosts as my parents. It was partially my fault and partially Cujo's fault, and she saw us as her mortal enemies. Though the team and I remain the only ones who know her about her ghost hunting alter ego, Valerie is an opinionated person and has never been afraid to show it.

After I transformed in front of her (for context, I was unconscious and teetering between a solid figure and a puddle of goo at the time), she and I had a long talk about ghosts. She became significantly less trigger-happy after that.

Valerie is seemingly unphased by the tension in the room as she takes her place at the microphone. "Well, this is something I never thought I'd do." She jerks her thumb over her shoulder and toward me. "It's no secret that I used to hate this guy with a passion. But, that's over and done with. He and I sat down together and had a long talk. The context is nobody's business but ours. Let's just say that my worldview was turned upside-down, inside-out, and backwards. In short, Phantom's a good guy. That's all I have to say. Don't ask me any follow-up questions, because I will not answer them."

With a flounce of her skirt, she saunters back to her seat as if all eyes aren't on her. I fight a grin. Blunt and uncaring about the opinions of others; that's Valerie for you.

The rest of the speeches go off without a hitch, and I creep closer to the edge with each one. Some people have generally nice things to say. Some tell short stories that are sweet or scary or goofy. Besides the speeches my own loved ones gave, the stories are my favorites, as they bring back so many memories.

"When my dog got loose, Phantom dropped everything and aided in the search. He found poor Lucy being dognapped by a ghost. I don't want to think about what could have happened if Phantom hadn't been there."

"...This was before Phantom got his healing powers, so the most he could do was stanch the bleeding. I was still on the fence about him at the time, and let me tell you, I wasn't shy about it. Phantom didn't care. He still rode in the ambulance with me. Held my hand the whole time. I think that's when I realized he was alright."

"One time I stole a muffin from that Fenton boy. I guess Phantom saw me. He retaliated by - I'm not making this up - filling a tube sock with butter, using his powers to freeze it, and threatening to beat me with it if I didn't buy the kid a new muffin."

On and on, people share their love and respect. A few brave souls take a moment to shake my hand or, like Harold, pat me on the shoulder. Cujo gets some attention by proximity.

I'm dizzy from happiness. In my wildest dreams, I never pictured so many people even liking me, let alone throwing a party for me, showing me how much they appreciate me.

One half of me is the biggest loser on the planet. The other half is a beloved member of society. I'm on the brink of either laughing or bursting into tears.

And, my core feels…normal. I don't know when that happened.

By some miracle, I make it through that stream of kindness without going to pieces. Although with my sister as the last person in line, I wonder if I spoke too soon.

Jazz is practically vibrating as she walks up to the microphone. She clears her throat and begins. "I felt honored when the anonymous resident who orchestrated all this assigned me to be the spokesperson. Which left me very surprised that I was last in line. Guess the universe had to keep me humble somehow."

A few chuckles follow that statement, and I fight a smirk. Anonymous resident, huh?

Jazz goes on. "Danny Phantom is truly one of a kind. How many teenage boys would suddenly gain superpowers and not use them for selfish purposes? Though, I'm sure he's done that a time or two. Nobody's perfect."

Images of the girls' locker room and that incident with the muffin and the sock flicker in my mind. This time I don't even try to fight my grin.

"No matter what, I'm proud to call myself one of Danny Phantom's supporters. And, since everyone's had their say, I may as well get to the moment we've all been waiting for! Or at least, that I've been waiting for."

Jazz motions for me to step forward. I do as I'm told, wondering why she's doing this to me when I'm already holding on for dear life. My voice is steady when I say, "You're not gonna put a crown on my head, are you?" That draws some laughter.

Jazz ignores the joke and pulls a small piece of white paper out of her pocket. She holds it up high. "In my hand is a slip from the bank, stating the amount of money currently in Danny Phantom's bank account."

"My what?"

Chapter Text

"We have a rule in the kitchen. If it lands on you, you eat it." - On Thin Icing by Ellie Alexander

Jazz

Danny's mouth falls open. He'll argue about this, beg me to give everyone their money back. I know my brother, and I've been mentally preparing for his response since I created the account.

Everyone in this room besides Danny - and Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow, assuming no one told them - knows how much money is in the account. Some were thrilled for Danny, most were jealous, all agreed that he deserves it.

"Danny Phantom," I say into the microphone, "we've been keeping a little secret from you."

"Who's we?" Danny asks. His neon green eyes dart around the room. "Am I the only one who didn't know about this?" People shout confirmations, which only agitates him further. He fists his hands in his hair. "Phasms, I have a bank account?"

I grin and battle the urge to wrap my arm around him. "It was the town council's idea. The account has existed for a little less than a year. Each month, a donation slip is sent out to every house in town so that people can contribute as a way of thanking you for all that you do." I grab his elbow and pull him up when he starts to phase through the floor. "So, Phantom, wanna guess how much is in the account?"

Danny stands there with his mouth open for a moment. "Uh…like…a hundred bucks?" That sparks a round of laughter. "Two hundred?" Danny's voice is more shrill now, and I think he'd be hyperventilating if he was in human form.

I'm starting to wonder if doing this in front of everyone was a good idea, but it's too late to back out now. I hand him the slip. He snatches out of my hand so fast that the paper almost rips in half. Everyone waits with bated breath for his reaction.

Which is about what I expected. Danny's face scrunches up, his lower lip quivers, and ectoplasmic tears pool in his eyes.

12,027 is a pretty big number, after all.

"Don't you people have bills to pay?" Danny shouts brokenly.

Over the roar of cheers and laughter, I hear my brother's harsh, choppy breaths and once again reign in the desire to hold him.

"I know it seems like a lot," I say once the applause dies down, "but that's nothing compared to-"

Danny grabs my arm suddenly. "I need to talk to you."

I'm too startled to respond.

"We'll be taking a brief intermission," Danny announces.

For the second time today, I am yanked through a wall by a ghost. At least I know this ghost won't hurt me.

Once we're outside and alone, Danny whirls on me. Glowing green trails streak his face, and his expression is reminiscent of a kicked puppy. "Tell me it isn't too late to give everyone their money back."

Here we go. "Danny, no one is going to take their money back. The donations are small way for people to-"

"Small? Jasmine Abigail Fenton," he waves the bank slip in my face, "this is the kind of money you get when you pick the right briefcase on a game show! Now please send all the money back, because I didn't phrase my answer in the form of a question, and no little red man is going to scamper across the screen and dispose of my winnings in an amusing fashion!"

It takes me a minute to sift through all of that. "First of all, those are three different game shows."

"Whatever!"

"And second, you deserve every penny of that, Danny." He starts to argue. I cut him off. "I know you don't view your actions as anything special, but they are. It's like I said, how many people would gain superpowers and use them to defend others? You go on about how it's only because of your Obsession, but your Obsession isn't protecting the innocent or being a superhero. It's helping others."

Danny tosses his hands at his sides. "Exactly."

"No, not exactly. Helping others can mean helping your friends study or helping me with my chores. Your core is not forcing you to save lives, Danny. You choose to do that."

Danny stares down at the small, partially torn paper in his hands. "I still don't feel right about this. The party's one thing, the wrapped gifts are another, but all this money?" He looks at me in a borderline panic. "People need this for-for groceries and mortgages and-and medicine and stuff! My god, Jazz, how much do they donate every month?"

"Not everyone donates every single month. And, you're forgetting that we have some very well-off people in this town." When Danny only looks away, I rest my hands on his shoulders. "Danny, I know you don't like being rewarded for what you do. But, you aren't depriving anyone of anything. Everyone who donated wanted to give you this. Because they appreciate you, and they want to show it."

"A simple 'thank you' conveys the same thing," Danny mutters.

A soft smile pulls at my lips, and pride floods me. "It's good to be humble. But, it's also okay to accept thanks in any form it comes in."

The smile on his face is almost mocking. "You would say that, wouldn't you? Miss Anonymous Resident? Should I start calling you Annie for short? You do have red hair."

I'm not surprised he figured it out so quickly. "Look, Danny-"

"I found them!"

We turn and see two teenagers around the corner and run toward us. The voice belonged to Sam, and Tucker is right behind her.

Sam isn't finished speaking. She jabs her finger in Danny's chest. "No one is taking their money back, so don't bother asking."

I grab her hand and lower it off my brother. "I already told him that," I say.

"Did he listen?" Tucker asks.

Danny pulls his hands through his hair and groans. "Not you guys too."

Tucker turns back to me. "I'll take that a no."

"Guys," Danny says, "it's not that I'm not grateful. I am. Of course, I am! It's just… It's all too much!" He's cut off by a sharp, faintly blue breath that shoots out of his mouth. "By any chance, did someone follow you out here?"

"Mira and Ms. Mae wanted to," Tucker says hesitantly, "but we told them we got this."

Sam waves off the concern. "We'll worry about it if someone starts shooting at us. You know why you're getting that money, Danny? Why we all threw a party for you and bought you presents? Because you're a hero, Danny Phantom. Because you-"

"I know everyone thinks I'm a hero," Danny interrupts, "and I don't know, maybe I am in their eyes. But to me…it's…it's… I don't know how to put it into words. I used to think it was my Obsession, but…" Danny trails off and rests his white glove over his heart. Or, core. Or, whatever you call the fusion of a heart and core. (Note to self: come up with a catchy name later.) His gaze is resting on the spot, and there's a tenderness I've rarely seen on his face. As if there's something truly, unbearably precious on his mind. When he looks up, his eyes are glowing brighter, and the passion with which he speaks is indescribable. "It's something deeper. It's a part of me. Not of my Obsession. Of me. It's who I am." He sighs and lowers his hand. "And, what about you guys? You three have had my back since the beginning."

"Not me," I remind him. "I didn't know about your powers at first."

"But, you were there, Jazz," my brother says with so much weight. "You may not have known what was going on with me, and I may have been too scared to tell you, even though I knew in the back of my mind that you would still love me," his voice breaks at that, "you were there. And, that goes for all of you," he adds to Sam and Tucker. "I was already a loser before I got powers I couldn't control. By the time I could control them, it was too late. Now I'm the clumsy moron who no one can count on and no one wants to be around. People hate me for merely being here! Even now that people know Danny Phantom is a loser - sniff - Danny Fenton is still nothing. Without these powers, I...I'm less than nothing."

My heart is in pieces. I want to throw my arms around my sweet little brother and tell him how much I love him, how much I want him.

But, I can't risk him clamming up. As painful as it is to watch, as painful as it must be for Danny to say aloud, he needs release. He needs to get this off his chest.

"Even Mom and Dad are useless! I know they mean well. I know they love me. But, my biggest fear is - hic - is that that will change if they know the truth." Danny sniffles a few times and scrubs at his damp cheeks. "When I first got these powers, nobody wanted me. Nobody except you guys. I-I wouldn't have gotten anywhere without your support. And, I don't just mean with ghost fighting. I know most people don't know about that, but I feel awful taking all the credit."

Tucker lightly punches Danny's arm. With a watery smile, he says, "Then treat us, man! Buy us cool stuff sometimes. I won't stop you. I can promise you that."

Sam swipes a finger under her eyes. "Danny, not a lot of people are genuinely good, but you are. You don't just show up when there's some villain to fight. You're there for anyone at any time. Danny Phantom wouldn't be the amazing person that he is if Danny Fenton wasn't like that. You are a member of the community, Danny. Ask anyone in that gymnasium, and they'll tell you how much they care about you."

Tucker points to Sam. "What she said. Sorry I'm not more eloquent." Sam rolls her eyes with a fond smile.

Danny doesn't speak. He stares down at the slip of paper, quivering in his hands, and watches his silent tears fall on it.

I wipe my face before giving in to my sisterly instincts. I wrap one arm around my little brother and kiss his cheek. "You've never once been unwanted, Danny. Ghost, human, or something in between."

Danny lets out a few quiet sobs and presses his eyes into his sleeve. One sob is harsher than the others and is accompanied by another wisp of blue. He curses under his breath and puts his palm to his forehead. "Please let that be someone friendly. I do not want to cry in front of my enemies."

At the word, a wave of dread hits me. The looks on Sam and Tucker's faces tell me they're thinking the same thing. What if Vlad came back? He was so insistent on finding Danny before. Could he have heard the party had started? I knew those news people would be a problem!

But, the voice we hear isn't Vlad's, thank god. "Perhaps this would be a good time to reveal myself."

Suddenly, a ghost appears, one that is a few feet taller than the rest of us. Their body is hidden under a light brown cloak, the hood of which hides their face in shadow. It's a good thing no one is around; the sight of Death themself would freak out anyone who didn't know they were benevolent.

Though I'm certainly surprised, seeing as Bub told us that Reaper wasn't coming.

"Grim," Danny says, sounding only mildly shocked. "I thought you didn't want to be seen."

Sam turns to Danny. "You knew they were here?"

"They spoke to me while you all were lining up for the speeches," Danny explains. "They've been invisible this whole time."

"Correct," Reaper says. "Forgive my eavesdropping. I wanted to check on my imprint," Reaper points to Danny with a long, bony blue-gray finger, "and what I heard…struck a chord, you could say."

"What do you mean?" Tucker asks.

"That I should like a moment of Danny Phantom's time."

Tucker holds up his hands in surrender. "I know when I'm being dismissed."

He walks away with his hands behind his head. Sam and I look at each other, shrug, and follow him.

"What do you think Reaper wants?" I ask as we head back to the gym.

Sam narrows her eyes. "Hopefully to knock some sense into Danny."

"You know Danny," Tucker says, hanging back to walk with us. "Altruistic and stubborn as hell." Tucker brightens suddenly. "You know, the iPod Touch comes out in a couple months. Do you think he'll buy me one if I ask him?" Sam elbows him hard in the ribs. "Ow! I was kidding! Well, half-kidding. My MP3 player's seen better days."

Danny

Reaper kneels down to my level and holds out their hand. "May I see?" I hand them the bank slip and don't meet their gaze. "My understanding of currency is…limited. But, I imagine that this is quite a sum."

"Yeah," I say. I take the paper back and stare down at it. "I'm grateful, but…it doesn't feel right to take it."

"There is no shame in accepting reward."

I almost smile. "You sound like Jazz."

"Your sister is wise." When I don't say anything, Reaper asks, "Do you feel…unworthy?"

I nod. "Grim, am I really a hero? I guess I am on paper, but I can't bring myself to feel like one. So, I have powers and use them to protect people. Anyone in my position could do that."

Reaper brushes their fingers over my arm, and I finally look at them. "This is true," they say. "Anyone in your position could do what you do. This does not mean that anyone in your position would."

I think about Vlad Plasmius and find no argument.

"Perhaps I shall tell you a tale," Reaper says. "I trust that you are familiar with the story of the War of the Ancients?"

I hum in confirmation. "That's when all the Ancients banded together and sealed Pariah Dark in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, right?"

"Indeed. It was a dreadful time in our history, and all those who existed in the Infinite Realms at the time bear the marks of war. Myself included."

Something appears from behind Reaper. No, I realize. Something appears from within them. Two long, branch-like things spread out from their back, between their shoulder blades, each one about as long as I am tall. The protrusions are a mahogany red with shorter, thinner, almost skeletal extensions spreading from beneath them like blood dripping from an open wound. These protrusions are horrifying in appearance, yet there's a dark beauty to them.

I reach up to touch one, and Reaper warns, "Only touch the flat sides. Otherwise, you will slice open your skin."

With that in mind, I trace the flat slide of the top part as instructed. It is smooth like polished wood and feels strong despite how flimsy it looks. Suddenly, the tips of my fingers burn, and I jerk them back with a yelp. My fingers had barely grazed the edge, yet ectoplasm drips over the new cuts in my skin and the fabric of my gloves.

"I warned you," Reaper says with some amusement.

I send them a glare that is ignored. Reaper gently presses my hand between both of theirs, and soft yellow light glows between them. When they retract their hands, my cuts are gone, and I'm staring up at them in awe.

"You can use the Healing Touch, too?" I ask, shaking the ectoplasm off my hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Reaper shrugs. "I suppose it simply never came up. Besides, any time I could have used it in front of you, you had gotten there before me. You are quite fast," they add with a chuckle.

I'll be annoyed with them later. "What are those?" I ask, eyeing the red protrusions. "Some kind of claws, or…?"

Reaper doesn't answer at first. When they speak, there is a subtle sadness in their tone. "They are… They were…my wings."

Wings.

I scan the protrusions and find absolutely nothing that resembles any wings that I've ever seen. There are no feathers, no thin membrane. For all intents and purposes, it looks as if an artist drew an outline for a pair of wings but never finished it.

But, Reaper can't fly. They're the only Ancient that I know of who can't-

They spoke in the past tense. My grim said that these were their wings.

Right after they mentioned the War of the Ancients.

I brush the flat side with a shaking hand, more mindful of the edges this time. "What happened?" I dare to ask.

"We had Pariah Dark cornered," Reaper says from somewhere I can't reach. "Or, so we thought. He unleashed a powerful attack. We had already been weakened to the point that survival would be miraculous. I would not see my friends destroyed. So, I took the brunt of the attack."

"Your wings…"

"A necessary sacrifice. And, quite possibly the only reason I survived. However, my form took horrible damage, as my core had been severely injured."

My stomach churns. A ghost's core is the most important part of their body. It's the thing that holds their form together. Without that…

"I spent the remainder of the war incapacitated, constantly surrounded by doctors and under strict guard from my Gargoyles. I healed, but I was not quite the same after."

A quiet gasp leaves me as I watch Reaper's hand reach up, grab their hood, and pull it back. I've never seen my grim's face before. Now I know why.

About a small portion of their face, consisting of part of their cheek and part of their chin, is the same pale blue-gray as their hands. The rest is the pinkish red of raw meat. Where the damaged skin meets the undamaged, the line is thicker and slightly bulging like scar tissue. The damaged skin has the appearance of layers that have been haphazardly stacked on top of each other. I can't tell if it's bare muscle and sinew (assuming ghosts have those) or if it's an assortment of scars. I'm too afraid to ask what the rest of their body looks like or if they were bald even before the war. Their eyes are the same neon green as my own, though theirs lack sclera and pupils, leaving them entirely green. It's like a sick version of Christmas, seeing such a bright glow stand against that awful red.

"I was hailed as a hero for my actions that day," Reaper says. "But, as I took no further part in the war, I could not help but feel as if the praise was unwarranted."

"What are you talking about?" I ask. "You saved their lives! If it weren't for you, the other Ancients might not have made it. We could still be dealing with Pariah Dark!"

Reaper gives me a sad smile. It's so weird to see them emote. "Nevertheless, every moment I spent bedridden, I wished that I was still out there, fighting alongside my friends and fellow soldiers. It is difficult to feel heroic when you are scarcely able to move and are plagued by fear for those you care for."

I have a sudden urge to touch that hideous red skin, but I push it down. "Why are you telling me this?"

Reaper's smile is softer now, though still with a trace of sorrow. They rest their hands on my upper arms. "You and I are a lot alike, Danny Phantom. Perhaps this is why our cores are intertwined the way they are." Referring to my imprinting. "We will stop at nothing to protect what we have. Yet we are uncomfortable with praise."

"It's instinct," I say, knowing that my grim understands. "It doesn't feel special to us because…it's just something we feel that we need to do."

Reaper retracts one hand and brushes the other over my back. "Such is the curse of our kind."

A chuckle escapes me. "'Our kind?' Anyone ever tell you you have a weird way of phrasing things?"

Reaper laughs, pulls their hood back up, and retracts what's left of their wings. "I know that you do not feel as though you have earned your reward. But, I think that it would mean a great deal to everyone if you were to accept. Your good deeds may not seem like much to you, but there is always someone who appreciates them, who appreciates you. Remember this."

I look down at the bank slip. 12,027 bucks. It's far, far more than I deserve, but…I guess no one else feels that way.

On a more selfish note, well, free money. It would be kind of stupid to turn that down.

"Okay," I mutter. I put the slip in my pocket. "Um, do you want to come inside? Like, let everyone see you? I know they'd all like you."

Reaper hesitates. "I…do not think that would be wise." My disappointment must show, because they add, "You must understand. My name and appearance invoke fear and distrust among humans. I simply do not wish to cause a disturbance."

"Grim, these guys trust the ghosts I trust," I argue. "If they know you're my parent, they'll at least give you a chance." Reaper lowers their head but doesn't speak. I force a smile. "No, I get it. You're not ready for that. It's cool."

"I am sorry," Reaper says sincerely. "Please understand that the living have feared my image for millennia. It is different with your friends and sister, as they are well-acquainted with you and with ghosts as a whole."

I wave my hands in front of me. "You don't have to explain yourself. It's really okay." In truth, I would love to introduce my grim to the town. Especially since they're one of the most powerful ghosts in the Zone, so I wouldn't have to worry a lick about their safety on Earth. But, I'm the last person who should make someone reveal their identity. "Just knowing that you're here is enough."

Reaper lightly caresses my cheek and freezes suddenly. "Pardon me. This could be urgent." They pull their phone out of pocketspace and look at it. "Yes, the Gargoyles would not call otherwise."

My pulse quickens as Reaper stands up and answers the call. The last time they got an urgent phone call around me, it was Clockwork warning them that they wouldn't be able to keep Amity Park safe from me on July 23rd: the final day of my reckoning, the day I would go on a rampage.

Reaper listens to the Gargoyle on the other line then glances at me and says to them, "Can it not wait?" They listen again. "Very well." They hang up, put their phone away, and turn to me. "My apologies. I would not leave were the matter not urgent."

"Everything okay?" I ask and realize it's a stupid question.

Reaper raises a hand. "It is nothing to concern yourself with. It is merely…a nuisance. But, one that is too dangerous to ignore."

My lips pull up a little. "Like Skulker is to me?"

"You could say that." I hear a grin in their voice. I wish they would pull back their hood again so I could see it.

They hold out their open palm, and I know they're going to summon their scythe to open a portal. "Oh!" I say, stopping them. "Let me do it. I think I've almost got Portal Creation down."

Reaper lowers their hand. "Then, by all means."

My grim gave me a scythe of my own for Christmas, and it comes to me when summoned. (Don't ask me where it goes when not in use.) I call it to me now, and it appears in my hands. The handle is thin and gray, and the blade at the top is long and curved but shorter than the blade on Reaper's scythe.

I bring my scythe back and picture Reaper's lair in my mind's eye. I concentrate my energy into the blade. I'll have to focus extra hard to make the portal big enough for an eight-foot tall demon to fit through.

I swing the blade upward, and it slices into the atmosphere. I fly upward, and the blade sticks a little but I manage to pull it through. I yank the blade free with a grunt and stare in amazement at the glowing green vortex I've created.

With all the energy of a giddy toddler, I laugh breathily and point to my success with my scythe.

Reaper hums in approval. "Is this the first time you have made a successful portal?"

I can only nod and hope my grin doesn't split my face in half.

The pride in Reaper's voice makes that face-splitting a real possibility. "Then, I am honored to be your first passenger." They lean in and kiss my forehead. "Until next time, Danny Phantom."

I will my scythe away. "Until then. I love you, Grim."

"And, I you, my son."

As soon as they step through and the portal disappears, I hear a familiar whine behind me and turn around. Cujo's head is poking through the wall. Having been caught, he steps all the way through and looks up at me with big sad eyes.

"Was I taking too long, buddy?" I ask, planting my feet on the ground. "Were you worried about me?"

Cujo whines some more and gets close enough to paw at my boot.

A sweet warmth rolls over me. I bend down to lift him into my arms. "I'm okay, boy. Really."

He licks my chin and snuggles against me, letting out a content sight.

Better get back in there, I suppose. I'm sure Cujo's not the only one who's worried.

I take a steadying breath and phase us back into the gym. The chatter slows to a stop once people realize I've returned. I set Cujo down, and the only sound is the clicking of tiny nails as he follows me to the mike stand. Jazz steps aside with an encouraging smile.

We reach the stand, and I hold my index finger to my chest and swipe it downwards diagonally. Cujo recognizes the silent command and lies down beside me. I send him a quiet, "Good dog," before gazing out at the audience. So many people who appreciate me, who want me.

My core is calm. My heart is full to bursting.

I clear my throat. "Sorry I walked out like that." My voice echoes through the gym. Everyone is listening with rapt attention. "It's… This is…incredible. I want to say thank you, but those words seem so…insignificant. To think that someone like me…someone shy and nerdy and…and…" I swallow hard as ectoplasm creeps into my eyes. My voice shakes. "I have never felt as wanted as I do in this moment. Not as a human, not as a ghost. I was nothing. I felt like I was nothing. And, I confess that I still do, but...but now I'm something. Even if I don't truly feel like it." Teardrops slowly slip past my lashes. For once, I don't mind crying in public. It feels okay to do it here. It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to; isn't that how the song goes? "I hate that it took dying for me to get here. But, I got a second chance, and that's not something that everyone gets. And, you all… Heh. Most of you hated me. But, you gave me another chance, too. And, seeing you all here, hearing what you had to say to and about me…" I take a moment to compose myself. "I knew I cared. But, I never realized just how much until now. That's why… That's why the reckoning is so scary for me. Because I love this town so much." I see a few people dab at their eyes. What they're feeling doesn't hold a candle to what I am. "But, don't worry. July 23rd will pass, and this town and everyone in it will still be standing. Count on it. Because I will not allow any other outcome. This is my home, and I will fight to the bitter end to protect it." I conclude by throwing my fist in the air. "To Amity Park!"

Cheers, louder than ever, break out. I even hear someone shout, "Go, Ravens!"

So much love. So much respect. All for me.

"Thank you," I whisper.

Chapter Text

"A wise woman once said, 'Fuck this shit,' and she lived happily ever after." - Unknown

Jazz

Mira's cake is a towering structure covered in black frosting, each layer rimmed with white. The topper is a cookie shaped and decorated like Danny's insignia. Danny called dibs on eating it, which is fine because there are others like it sitting on a plate, though they lack the same decoration.

Danny isn't eating right now. He has his ghost phone - which is like a human phone but has a wider variety of uses and a special screen that doubles as buttons…or something - pointed at Bub. As if that wasn't stereotypically parental enough, Danny dragged over Lance Thunder and his cameraman to capture the moment.

What is that moment, you ask? It's Bub's first slice of cake, and you better believe I snuck over there to watch. Sadly, I can't use my own ghost phone without risking someone asking why I have one. I'll have to ask Danny to send me the video later.

Bub is floating behind one of the bleacher seats, and Eileen flies over with a slice of cake. She sets the paper plate down on the seat and pulls out her own phone.

"Is Bub eating cake?" Mira calls out before shoving me out of the way. "I wanna see! I remember when my cousin ate cake for the first time. He got it everywhere! It was so cute!"

She whips out her phone and Danny laughs. "Alright, little man," he says to Bub. "Have at it."

Bub doesn't hesitate. He shoves his tiny hands into the red velvet cake and sticks one of the handfuls - the one with frosting, which is now staining his arm - into his mouth. Already, crumbs and bits of black and white are stuck to his face and falling on his new shirt. Danny complained about having to buy new baby clothes when his son grew out of the onesie he'd died in. When Danny came home from shopping, he was chomping at the bit for Mom and Dad to leave so he could show me what he bought. Right now, Bub is wearing red shorts and an orange shirt covered in ducks and soon to be covered in cake.

"I like it," Bub announces, shoving in the other handful.

I giggle along with everyone else. Even the news guys aren't immune.

Bub swallows his mouthful, grabs another piece, and holds it out to Danny. "You want some?"

Danny's eyes glow brighter. "Sure. Thanks. Hold this, Fenton," he adds, handing me his phone. I keep filming and stifle another giggle when Danny puts his mouth around Bub's hand and pulls back. Bub wiggles and laughs, and Danny hums his approval and gives Mira a thumbs-up. "My compliments to the baker."

Mira proudly raises her chin.

Bub pulls off another piece and holds it out to Lance. "You want some too, mister?"

Lance eyeballs the smushed clump of dessert as if Bub had pulled it out of the trash.

"Come on, Lance," the cameraman taunts. "You know you want to!"

Eileen chimes in. "Do it for the viewers!"

When Lance still doesn't move, the cameraman hammers it home with, "You realize if you don't do this, you'll never live it down. On- or off-set."

This convinces Lance, who hesitantly wraps his mouth around Bub's hand. The man looks disgusted when he pulls back, but Bub is waving his frosting-coated arms and letting out breathy baby laughs.

"Sharing's fun!" he declares.

"Maybe we shouldn't have given him sugar," I jest.

Out of nowhere, we hear barking, and Cujo leaps on to the bleachers and stops beside the plate of crumbled up cake. At first, I think he's going to start chowing down. Instead, starts licking the crumbs and frosting off of Bub's face. If he was still alive, we'd all be panicking over a dog ingesting chocolate. Since that's not an issue here, the sight of a baby laughing hysterically while a small dog licks him is beyond adorable.

All those gathered make their "ooh's" and "aah's," but Danny beats everyone with a weird high-pitched squeal that I wouldn't have thought possible for him even before his voice changed.

Mira snorts. "That was the least masculine sound I have ever heard."

"I love being a dad!" Danny says in that squeal-pitch.

Eileen gives him a teasing side-eye. "Let's see how you feel fifteen years from now, when Bub watches the video and cringes."

Danny's voice returns to normal. "Let me have this, Mama."

Cujo and the news people wander off shortly after, and the rest of us watch Bub finish his cake. By that point, he has crumbs everywhere, frosting on his arms and clothes, and somehow even has bits of cake dotting his white hair.

"I knew this would be good," Mira says, and everyone puts away their phones.

"I got clean-up duty," Eileen says, whipping out a little packet of wipes. "Hold still, you little rodent."

As Eileen cleans her grandson, Danny pulls me aside. He leads me to a corner of the room and moves in for a hug before remembering what form he's in. "I don't know how to thank you," he says quietly.

My heart swells. "I'm not the only one who worked on this, Danny."

"I know, but I get the feeling it was your idea."

I shrug with a grin. "I will neither confirm nor deny."

Danny softens and seems the tiniest bit sad. "You're just…always taking care of me. Even when we kids, you…" He shakes his head and tosses his hands at his sides. "I'm just so grateful for you."

I'm about to give him a hug, secret identity be damned, when a few loud thrums pierce the air. We turn and see that Johnny 13 has taken his place at the mike stand. Danny raises an eyebrow at me, but I shrug; I don't know what's going on any more than he does.

"So, uh," Johnny awkwardly starts out, "I'm gonna hijack this party for a minute." He scratches the back of his head. I don't think I've ever seen him this nervous before. (To be fair, I avoid the guy when I can.) "I, uh….got something to say. Not about the pipsqueak over there," he jerks his thumb toward Danny, "but about someone else. That pretty lady up there on the bleacher." Everyone follows his gaze up to Kitty, who is sitting at the top of the bleacher with some of the townsfolk and looking as confused as everyone else. "Her name is Kitty, and she's been my girl for a long time now."

"Is he…?" Danny breathes, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open.

"And, I was wondering…" Johnny pulls out something small. I can't see it from my angle, but the gasp from Kitty and a few others tells me exactly what it is. "Kitty, you wanna keep being my girl?"

"Yes!" Kitty screams, flying down to her now-fiance. "Yes, Johnny, yes!"

The couple embraces and locks lips to the sounds of everyone present clapping.

Danny sprints to the microphone. "Hey, my friends just got engaged. You can do better than that!"

The polite clapping turns to loud cheers. Which turn to laughter when Danny dips Johnny in a headlock and rubs his fist into the biker-ghost's hair in a noogie that would make any obnoxious older brother proud. Johnny flips Danny on to the floor. They and Kitty are laughing as well.

I may not be Johnny and Kitty's biggest fan, but I'm happy for them. Though, not nearly as happy as I am for my little brother. He needs more chances to smile like that, like he doesn't have a care in the world.

As much as I hate to admit it, there are a lot of things I can't guide Danny through. Specifically ghost-related things like his reckoning, which I know has been his biggest fear for the past two months. But, if I can make him happy, even for a moment, then at least I know that I'm helping.

Danny

Apparently, a list of my interests was passed out with the invitations. Not every gift was a hit - A taxidermy squirrel? Does that person want Sam to kill them? - the majority were at least in the ballpark.

The only two people who gave me presents on my actual birthday and still brought something were Bub and Reaper. Bub drew me a picture of the two of us holding hands (it looks more like two chickens kissing), and Reaper gave me their own speech in the form of a letter. When asked why Mira, Eileen, Dash, and Paulina didn't have anything for me, the excuse was that they'd given me my gifts this morning. Box Ghost said he'd store all my gifts at his Haunt, an abandoned warehouse just outside of town, for the time being. The stipulation was that he got to keep any boxes involved. You do you, man.

The party went on for a while after that, and people slowly started to leave, parents with kids being the first to go. I made sure to say goodbye and thank you to everyone as they left. I even shook hands with some adults and hugged all of the kids.

As Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow were heading out, I stopped them to ask Johnny why he picked now to propose. His response: "I thought about what you said to me and, I don't know, I thought I'd go for it." I was promised a wedding invitation. I will be very unhappy if I don't receive one.

Reaper, to no one's knowledge but my own, had returned in time to see me read their letter. (Silently read their letter. It felt too personal to share.) They left after I'd opened all my gifts, which is fine. I would have been satisfied even if they hadn't come back.

Eileen, Mira, and my human friends and sister are all cleaning up. Bub and Cujo had fallen asleep together against the wall even though neither of them needs sleep. My guess is that they got bored once the party started to taper off. They look so cute that no one has the heart to wake them.

The others rejected my offer of assistance, but I played the Obsession card so that I could help. It's the least I can do after they put all this together for me.

"Wow," Tucker says, leaning against one of the cafeteria tables. The caterers took all their supplies back some time ago, so the table is clear. "Fixations sound awful."

Everyone still present knows my secret, so we can talk freely. I'd gathered them all around me so I could fill them in.

"'Awful' doesn't begin to cover it," I say. "Just ask Mira. I was a wreck." Mira nods with a deep frown.

"I've been fixated before," Eileen says, "and I can confirm just how awful it is. How's your core feeling now?"

I smile and place my hand over the spot that was causing me so much agony a couple hours ago. "Pretty good. I…I think it's because of all of this." I spread out my arms, indicating the gym, the party, the love that still weighs on me like a soft blanket on a cold winter night. "Ever since I found out about my reckoning, I've been terrified. All I've been able to think about was-"

I cut myself off when I remember that not everyone present knows about Dan. I might explain that to Mama (definitely her), Dash, Paulina, and Valerie one day, but this isn't the time. As for Bub and Cujo, the former is far, far too young, and Cujo, well, he's a dog, so I'll probably vent about it to him at some point.

For now, "Let's just say there was…this…guy. Like, a really bad guy. And, he was going on about how I would be just like him and," a shudder rakes over me, "hurt people and…yeah." Let's hope the uninformed don't notice the stunned realization on Sam, Tucker, and Jazz's faces nor the understanding on Mira's. I lower my gaze and wrap my arms around myself. "Throughout all of this, I've been thinking that…that the reckoning, that last day…would mean that I really am like him."

"Are you talking about that Plasmius guy?" Paulina guesses.

"Someone much worse." The words came out quiet. I raise my head and speak normally. "But, seeing what all of you and everyone else did for me. This party, the gifts, the freaking money…" There's a knot in my throat for the umpteenth time today. "It's...reassurance, I guess. You guys wouldn't have done this if I was like him. Nobody would have come if they thought I was a monster. I…" When did I start smiling? "I'm happy. Happier than I've been in a long time."

Tucker throws his arm around my shoulders. "That was the goal, brother."

"And, whoever you're talking about," Valerie adds, "if he's that bad, I hope we never have to meet him."

I hope so too, I think, recalling that brave twenty-something woman who died right before my eyes. By my hand.

No. It wasn't me. Not this me.

I'm not Dan Phantom. I'm Danny Phantom. And, Danny Phantom is a flawed but overall good person. I need to start remembering that.

The good news is that Jazz thought ahead and told our parents that we'd be at a birthday party until late. The bad news is that they didn't know whose party it was. As soon as we walk into the living room - me now as a human, of course - Mom and Dad ambush us because of course they saw the news.

"I can't believe you kids went to Danny Phantom's birthday party!" Mom admonishes. "It would be bad enough if he was the only ghost there. But, let's see." She counts off on her fingers. "There was Danny's ghost teacher, Phantom's alleged girlfriend-"

"Alleged?" I hope I don't sound as offended as I am.

Jazz has no such qualms. "None of the ghosts at that party had any plans to hurt us. For god's sake, one of them was a baby and another was the Box Ghost! Everyone, be they a ghost or a human, had a great time!"

Mom puts her hands on her hips. "I should hope you would feel that way, seeing as whoever planned it made you the spokeswoman. And, you obviously agreed to it! Honestly, Jasmine, I expected better from you."

That does it. "Don't talk to my sister like that," I snap.

I didn't raise my voice, but Mom recoils. I'm the quiet child, the doormat who buries his head in the sand and only pokes it out to say "yes, sir" and "no, sir" when necessary. I even surprised myself a little.

Mom recovers quickly. "Don't think you're exempt from this, young man."

Dad clears his throat and rests his large hands on Mom's shoulders. For all his cluelessness, when it comes to the emotional stuff, he's the expert between the two of them. He'd been silent, but he can see how rocky this boat is.

"Danny, Jazz," he says calmly, "we understand that you two have a different opinion of ghosts than we do. And, we respect that. We only want you to be safe."

Mom still looks mad, but she cools her jets enough to say, "Your father is right, kids. We love you both dearly, and we don't want to see anything happen to you."

Jazz takes a step forward and opens her mouth. I throw my arm out in front of her.

My big sister has been speaking up on my behalf since she found out about my powers and became even more vocal after I found out that she knew. She's argued with her our parents more times than I can count over the subject. Usually it would just be some exasperated fact vs fiction. Rarely does it escalate beyond that, and only one time did it involve screaming. (For context, Jazz was screaming, Mom and Dad were trying to calm her down, I was too broken to be of any use, and the whole thing was Vlad's fault.)

Meanwhile, sweet little Danny Fenton did his best to tune it out and failed. All this time, I've been so afraid of saying too much that I never said anything at all. Jazz never held it against me, and that makes it worse somehow.

Well.

Today I was in so much pain that I couldn't function, and four ghosts did what they could to help me.

I showed one of those ghosts, who also happens to be the best girlfriend ever, the darkest, most shattered part of me, and she responded by holding me and letting me cry it all out.

Another ghost, Death themself at that, showed me how much we have in common by telling me the story of when they risked their own demise to protect their loved ones. And, implied that they would gladly do it again.

And, that's just what happened today.

Ghosts have hurt me, yes, but they've been there for me too. A group of yeti-like demons saving my life when my ice powers threatened to freeze me. A kindly Wisconsin native freeing me when a not-so-kindly one trapped me in his lab. A dog who always brings a smile to my face. A woman from the late 1600s helping me with my Duplication and becoming a real mother to me in the process. A beautiful little boy who calls me Daddy and brought me to tears with his speech before I very reluctantly sent him back to the Ghost Zone. Ghosts have been there for me more than most humans have.

Let me take the reins, sis.

There's a lot I'd like to say, but that would require more information than I'm willing to provide. So I settle for, "I think I'm speaking for both Jazz and myself when I say this. We. Care. About ghosts. You don't have to like it. Now if you all will excuse me, I had a great time at the party, but I'm tired and I am going to bed. Goodnight, Jazz," I finish, pointedly ignoring her our parents' stunned faces.

I march upstairs but stop in the hallway when I hear footsteps catch up to me. "Danny," Jazz says, "are you okay?"

I turn around to face her. "Surprisingly, yes. It felt good to say that."

"I'm proud of you for saying it," Jazz says, and I can see that she means it.

My mood shifts when I see her our sheepish parents walk up the stairs and join us. I pull Jazz behind me. It's my turn to protect her from them. "If you're gonna yell at us, can you at least wait until morning? It's almost midnight, for pete's sake."

It doesn't escape my notice that Dad is the one taking charge here. "We're not going to yell at you. It's just that ghosts are dangerous and- Hear me out," he adds when I open my mouth. "Your mother and I have spent years studying ghosts. But, you kids are growing up in a changing world. Our perspective is different from yours, and you're both old enough to think for yourselves. We acknowledge that. But, you can't stop us from worrying."

He nudges Mom, signaling her turn. "We won't stop you from…hanging out with ghosts." Mom is hiding it well, but I've known her literally my whole life. I can tell those words were painful for her. "We only ask that you be careful."

I get the sense that this is a conversation the two of them have had before.

"Okay," I say.

Jazz follows my lead. "Okay."

Tension still hangs in the air, but it dissipates somewhat. We all exchange hesitant goodnight's, and Dad's comes with a shrug that reads, "Sorry your mom's like this."

Once Jazz's- I mean, our- I mean- Once those two are in their room, I kiss Jazz's cheek. "I am going to find a way to repay you for today. All of you."

There's a tender smile on Jazz's face as she ruffles my hair. "You can repay us by doing what you're doing. And, earning your paycheck," she adds with a wink.

My paycheck. I still can't wrap my head around that.

I walk into my room and close the door behind me. Once upon a time, the walls were decorated with space posters, the ceiling was dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars, and there were space-themed figurines on my nightstand. Six months ago, I tore it all down in a fit of self-loathing. My dream of becoming an astronaut had been crushed by how much my Obsession and my schoolwork had clashed at the time, and I didn't want to look at all those reminders.

I never did redecorate, though there are two things that I couldn't bear to hide. One is a pentagram wall decoration that Sam got me for Christmas. The other is a Christmas present that my son made for me: a stone carved to look like my insignia. Granted, Bub is less than one, so it looks more like a lumpy mass with some holes in it, but it's the thought that counts.

You know what? Screw it.

I pull two things out of pocketspace: Bub's drawing and Reaper's letter. I take a roll of tape out of my desk drawer and hang Bub's drawing on the wall next to the pentagram. I start to hang the letter next to it before re-reading it and deciding that it's both too personal and too hard to explain should Mom and Dad happen to see it.

My son,

I understand that some of the party goers will be giving short speeches in regards to you. This shall be my own.

When we met, I had no suspicions as to how close we would become. It is with great pride that I call you my imprint. You have a tendency to doubt yourself, I know, but never doubt how good and just you are. A true angel.

With love, Grim

The angel part had gotten me choked up the first time I read it. No one had ever called me that before.

I tuck the short but sweet words into my desk drawer for now. I'll bring it to my lair tomorrow when I pick up my other gifts from the Box Ghost.

I change into my pajamas and crawl into bed, but I don't fall asleep. My mind is whirling with everything that happened today. Despite my fixation, despite my breakdown, today really was wonderful. It boggles my mind that someone like me has so many people who love him, who want him. It's nice to be wanted.

Mom and Dad really are full of it, aren't they? They saw the news. They saw how much fun everyone was having, saw ghosts and humans getting along. Yet, they still don't understand. At least Dad is willing to try. I decide that if I ever work up the courage to tell one of them who I am, it will be him that I go to.

I smile at Bub's drawing on the wall and finally close my eyes. For the first time in too long, I'm able to sleep peacefully in my own bed.

Chapter Text

These pesky Gargoyles refuse to let me into their master's lair. I'm forced to stand on the front lawn while surrounded by grotesque humanoid beasts seemingly made of stone. I would have expected them to point weapons at me, but I suppose their oversized teeth, claws, and muscles are weapon enough. One of them went inside to call their master. That was some time ago, or it at least feels like it.

A spasm wracks my chest. I tense up but won't let my pain show. Not in front of the Gargoyles. Seeing as they work for an Ancient, even I would have trouble fending them off on my own, should it come to that. With my core in this state, I wouldn't stand a chance.

Finally, a large portal slowly opens up. Someone else must have made it, as Reaper's energy is silver, not green. The Gargoyles in front of it move aside. A few moments later, the Master of Death steps through, and the portal disappears behind them.

"Forgive my rudeness, Vlad Plasmius," they say in place of a greeting, "but I do hope that this is important. I have a prior engagement, you see."

Oh, spare me. I caught a glimpse of the news before I came here, and I have a hunch. "May I assume this 'prior engagement' is just you attending your imprint's birthday party? When it isn't even his birthday?"

The Gargoyles bend slightly, prepped to pounce. One of them flexes their claws and snarls, "You will speak to Master Reaper with respect!"

Reaper rests their hand on the guard's head. All relax at the gesture.

To me, Reaper says factually, "My private life is none of your concern. Why have you come here, Vlad Plasmius?"

There's another flare in my chest, and I swallow a cry of pain. "It's about Danny Phantom's reckoning. It's only three months away, and I fear the preparations he is making will not be enough."

"My understanding," Reaper says, "is that Danny Phantom's preparations include the most advanced technology that the human realm can provide. And, I do not know if you are aware, but the child can use Portal Creation now."

That surprises me, though I have seen him swinging a scythe through the air a time or two. I had assumed he was merely experimenting with weaponry. It must have been Daniel who made the portal that brought Reaper here.

"That's all well and good," I say, "but what I want to know is why he must make preparations at all. I asked him why he wasn't going to stay with you that day, and he refused to tell me. I let it go at the time, but the closer we get to July 23rd, the more I crave answers."

The answer I receive sends knives through my chest, the sensation causing a small noise in the back of my throat that I hope no one hears. I refuse to show how weak I've become.

"If Danny Phantom has chosen to withhold this information from you, then I shall do the same."

No, my core hisses. No the boy not again not to him no.

The pressure in my chest makes me bold. Or, perhaps stupid. "Let me see if I have this straight. Someone of your caliber, one of the most powerful ghosts in existence, is taking the lead of an awkward seventeen-year-old?"

The Gargoyles growl and crouch again, and I fear that I've gone too far.

Fortunately, Reaper spreads their hands, signaling for calm. "Leave us," they command.

The Gargoyles glance at one another before obeying and heading back inside.

When it's just the two of us, Reaper says with a thinly veiled warning, "I have told you before to leave Danny Phantom alone. I will not ask nicely a second time."

"I am only trying to help him," I explain. "I know what the reckoning is like. I know about the horror and guilt that comes with it." My temper leaks out. I point up at Reaper and almost shout, "And, I know that you will do nothing to prevent such destruction!"

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Reaper did come to me when the final day of my own reckoning drew near. My best friend (and only real friend at the time), Hutch, had assured me that Reaper was trustworthy, but I had been hesitant to follow the word of an all-powerful being who was casually referred to as the Master of Death . I didn't have access to the Infinite Realms yet. The few ghosts I had seen were either ghouls, dangerous creatures with no thoughts beyond "attack," or Hutch Blairman, who is overly affectionate at worst as long as he likes you.

Reaper may not have stopped me in time, but I suppose I am also to blame for not accepting the portal they offered to me.

I'm also glad they sent the Gargoyles away. After my last comment, I don't think I would be standing here otherwise.

"I accept part of the blame, Vlad Plasmius," Reaper says honestly, "but I am hardly the only one at fault."

"I know," I admit. I fly up to their level. "Please, Reaper. Tell me why Daniel is so insistent on guarding the town from himself when he has multiple means of getting at least to this realm if not directly to your lair." The boy has a Ghost Portal in his basement, and I would happily let him use my own if that wasn't an option for whatever reason. Beyond that, one of his imprints can use Portal Creation. So can his girlfriend, and even he himself can apparently do it now. "What is it that you aren't telling me?"

"My response has not changed," Reaper states. "I will follow my son's lead."

Not again not to him not to him.

I resist the instinct to press my hands to my chest and moan. I cannot control the slight strain in my voice. "You're trying my patience. Let me spell it out for you. I am a halfa who has already gone through his reckoning. I have the experience. Therefore, only I can properly guide him. If I feel this strongly about it, as someone whom Daniel considers an adversary, what does that say about you , as the demon who is supposed to be a parent to him?"

Reaper jumps in before I can say anything else I'll regret. "It seems that we are trying each other's patience. Do not assume that my lack of direct involvement means that I do not care. I will do what I can to prevent what happened with you from happening with him." They fold their hands in front of them. I get the sense that, beneath that hood, they are gazing at me as if I am a fly that must be swatted. "It is in my nature to protect. This includes," they step forward and lift one hand, letting a small red fireball form in it, "disposing of threats."

I should know better than to pick a fight with an Ancient, particularly this Ancient, but the agony in my chest is making me forget myself. "And, I suppose I am one of those threats? I'm the good guy here!" Reaper makes a few little noises in their throat. "Are-are you laughing ? What about this is so funny to you?"

"Forgive me," I will not, "but your lack of awareness is…somewhat amusing."

The flimsy hold I have on myself breaks. Before common sense can take over, I fire a ghost ray. Reaper doesn't move, but a silver shield appears to block my attack.

"It is my turn to spell things out," they say, dissipating the shield. "Danny Phantom is not to be trifled with. I do not say that as his parent. I say that as a wielder of the Healing Touch."

An exceedingly rare power that allows the user to transfer their own life force into another to heal wounds and cure illnesses. "And, this is relevant, how?"

"Because, Danny Phantom also possesses this ability."

So I've heard. "And…?"

Reaper simply regards me for a moment. "For all of your talk, you are…rather ignorant." I'm about to argue when they add, "Vlad Plasmius, only a certain type of ghost can acquire the Healing Touch."

A certain type? They couldn't mean halfas, could they? I instantly dismiss the idea. Reaper is not, nor were they ever, a halfa, and I've never obtained such a power.

Could they be referring to their and Daniel's good natures? It's said that the Healing Touch can only be learned by someone with pure intentions, or some such drivel. But, that wouldn't be exclusive to a specific type of ghost.

Reaper is waiting for me to figure this out. I won't look like a fool. Surely, I've learned something about this over the years.

What baffles me is that Daniel and Reaper are not the same type of ghost. Daniel is a halfa and will become a spirit when his human body dies. Reaper is a demon, a being who has always been a ghost, as well as…

As…

No, that can't be right.

"What are you saying?" I ask cautiously.

"If you are so knowledgeable," Reaper says, "you tell me."

My head is spinning. My core claws at my bones. Willpower alone is keeping me airborne. "But…but, that cannot be! Daniel is a halfa! A half-ghost can't be… It-it isn't possible!"

"Correction," Reaper says, "it has never happened before. A ghost is a ghost, Vlad Plasmius. Half or whole."

My god… I fist my hands in my hair, trying to process this new information. "Does he know?"

"I plan to tell him after his reckoning is complete and his ghostly form has altered." Reaper points at me. "Before you argue, let me remind you which one of us is the expert on such matters."

The boy tell him protect him the boy the boy.

I lower my head so that Reaper thinks I'm considering this. In truth, I'm biting down against the pain until my teeth ache. Ectoplasm fills my eyes. I hope it's seen as emotion and not weakness. Lately it feels as if my core is trying to finish killing me.

"Shouldn't he know before then?" I ask.

"I had considered this," Reaper says. "But, I believe the child has enough on his mind. There is no hurry, and at the end of the day, it will change nothing about him or his life."

"Yes, it will!" I shout, throwing out my hands. "Do you have any idea how rare your kind are?"

"I am fully aware, Vlad Plasmius. The knowledge will come as a shock to him, but it truly will change nothing." I open my mouth. Reaper raises a hand. "Enough. The only reason I am telling you this is that I do not want you interfering with Danny Phantom any more than you already have. I have told you before to leave him alone. If this revelation does not convince you," they speak slower and with an edge, "I will find another way."

Reaper summons their scythe and opens a portal, no doubt one that leads back to Daniel's party. Once they're gone, I take off into the atmosphere until I can't stand it anymore and collapse on to a floating landform that's just big enough to fit my pathetic self.

I pray that no one sees me as I curl up and cry and moan as my core has its way with me. It is as if flames are slowly burning me from the inside out, until my entire being is engulfed.

The pain has been on and off for two weeks and is steadily getting worse. When the feeling tapers off, I lay on my side and whimper like the sad sack I've become. My chest still hurts, as does the rest of me from my less than elegant landing, but the worst of it has passed for now. This is the worst it's been, and I have a terrible feeling that this is not the worst it will be.

The boy, my core screams.

My conversation with Daniel's teacher/imprinted mother plays in my mind. She all but stated that Daniel is afraid of his human parents, and why wouldn't he be? They hate ghosts with a passion, and one of them is Jack Fenton. But, Daniel loves them too much to leave. I always knew that heart of his would be his downfall.

Daniel needs to be protected. Now that I know how serious this is, I'm more certain than ever that he needs me. If he's going to be so insistent on staying in Amity Park, then he needs a proper guide.

The boy.

It has to be me.

The boy.

I scream at another brutal spasm.

The boy the boy the boy.