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All of Team Phantom, which had gone beyond the original trio of Danny, Sam, and Tucker to include Jazz, Val, and Wes, watched as the Fenton parents unloaded a trebuchet…a goddamn trebuchet…off a trailer they had hitched to the back of the GAV. Jack had called the trailer the Jack O’Hauler. Danny STILL snorted every time Jack boomed out the name for the flatbed. None of Team Phantom offered to “help” offload the trebuchet…again, it was a trebuchet…but Jack, didn’t seem to want any help.
Then, they began taking bets. They weren’t taking bets on if it would work, no. Danny had long ago sabotaged any and all of his parents’ inventions so they if they worked, they didn’t work properly, or made them so that they blew up, literally, in Jack’s face. Rather, they were taking bets on the Fenton parents’ reactions.
“Twenty bucks says Jack just fires it without any kind of proper testing or calibration,” Tucker said while watching Jack still trying to undo a ratchet strap.
“Thirty says Maddie calls him sweetie in first thirty seconds,” Val retorted.
“Forty says that Maddie overrules Jack and attempts to recalibrate everything,” Wes called.
“Fifty says Jack attempts to throw it when it doesn’t work,” Sam called from her spot watching Danny’s parents.
“Sixty says Jack will get that kicked puppy face it doesn’t work and then want fudge. THEN, they leave the trebuchet AND Jack O’Hauler behind,” Danny snarked. Jazz, wisely, stayed silent.
The Fentons finally got their newest invention offloaded from the trailer. They hauled into the middle of the field where the Team had gathered. The teens grew silent as they watched the adults set up. And then in an unexpected twist, Jack and Maddie Fenton did everything that teens had just bet on.
Jack had immediately tried to fire it while Maddie was trying to calibrate it which had resulted in Maddie calling him “Sweetie”. Jack had then tried to throw it like he was the Hulk or something. And when that didn’t work, he got that kicked puppy face and immediately pouted and demanded fudge. Jack grumpily trudged back to the GAV while Maddie was patting him on the back and sped off, leaving the flatbed and the trebuchet behind.
“So…who won?” Tucker asked.
“Well that happened,” Wes snorted at the same time.
This caused all of the teens to fall down laughing near-hysterically. Not that they’d expected any less from the Fenton adults, but for it fail so catastrophically. Then, Danny perked up.
“DIBS!” Danny exclaimed.
“WHAT?!?!” Jazz all but shrieked.
Danny turned to look at her dead in the eyes, “I said I call dibs,” he repeated as he began repairing what he had sabotaged.
Jack had told them that it was supposed to fire a net to “catch the ghost scum”, but Danny had, of course, sabotaged it so that instead of firing a net or any kind of ballista, it had a sling like a “real” trebuchet. Danny worked quickly to replace the firing pins and a few gears that he’d stolen. Sam and Tucker were quick to catch on to what Danny was thinking. Jazz sat there with a horrified expression on her face.
“Danny. NO!” She said sternly.
“Danny. YES!” Sam and Tucker chorused in unison.
Danny sat in the sling, and then Sam did the countdown. “3…2…1!” Tucker pulled the lever, and Danny went flying. An involuntary scream left his throat as he flew through the air in human form for a few seconds, then he remembered that he literally couldn’t die since he was already half-dead and transformed into Phantom and began laughing as he landed.
“That was the best thing ever!” He crowed as he touched down.
Sam was already in the sling waiting for her turn to be launched. The rest of the afternoon was spent with each of the teenagers getting launched from the trebuchet, falling for a few seconds, and then subsequently caught by Phantom before landing. Wes posted the video that Tucker took of their shenanigans to his blog, which caught the attention of the A-listers.
Danny was just thankful that it was summer break so that he and his friends could play all day. They even had to set up a schedule to make sure that everyone had fair time getting launched. They spent several weeks getting launched, and they had a rotating roster of who would bring snacks and drinks. The only one who was an exception was Phantom himself since he had to catch people and that took both time/effort and calories. Plus, everyone got to fanboy over getting caught by their hero.
A sudden, sharp shout of “STOP FIRING! PLANE!” From Phantom made everyone freeze. Dash groaned since he was next to be launched and was already sitting in the sling.
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“Rob, I know you’re mad at Batman, but did you really think this through?”
Red Robin turned to look at his current partner in crime with a scathing look. “Whatever do you mean, Superboy?” Red Robin deadpanned.
“It’s just that I don’t think stealing the Batplane is the best thing. Batman probably has like a million trackers on this thing,” Superboy responded while scratching his cheek worriedly.
“Oh, I know. But Batman also forgets I’m the one who installed and programmed all of them. I’ve already disabled them. Besides, he shouldn’t have been such an idiot with MY case. Which he completely ruined by BLAH BLAH BLAH and furthermore BLAH BLA…”
PING. A blip appeared on their radar and just as quickly disappeared. This repeated several more times. The two heroes were changing from confused to concerned. VERY, VERY CONCERNED. They strapped themselves in and began the process of running systems checks and analyzing their environment.
A person flying through the air, screaming and laughing, while also making a silly pose flashed in front of their windshield caught their immediate attention. Before the person, a child really, could fall far, they were caught by another person. The second person was glowing and flying, and appeared to be a hero of some sort. In the matter of five minutes, Red Robin and Superboy watched as no less than three people were launched into the air and caught by the glowing teenager. Red Robin followed the trajectory to see where they were being launched from and sucked in a breath.
A trebuchet. A fucking trebuchet. It was glowing Lazarus green with silver highlights all through it. But Red Robin knew Lazarus water when he saw it. His breath hitched in his chest as he disengaged the stealth mode of the Batplane. They both heard the glowing boy shout “STOP FIRING! PLANE!” as he clutched a girl tighter to his chest. Then the glowing boy turned luminous glowing green eyes towards the plane and said, “To the person or people flying the plane, please move out of the way or land and join in.”
Red Robin felt his rising panic disperse. Whatever else the glowing boy was, he was obviously not in the throes of a Pit Rage episode. Red Robin and Superboy watched as the glowing teen floated down to a large crowd that consisted of mostly other teens and a few smaller kids. Red Robin’s interest was piqued, and he desperately wanted answers, so he landed the plane not too far from the damn glowing trebuchet.
As the two teen heroes stepped out of the plane, a hush fell over the crowd. A trio of teenagers, which included the glowing boy from earlier, greeted the duo, although one of them looked like he was about to pass out. Red Robin wondered if he should be worried about him. But his two friends were snickering and not-so-gently elbowing him in the side.
The glowing teen stepped forward. “I’m Phantom, the local hero of Amity Park. This is Sam and Tucker, part of my support Team. It’s nice to meet you, Red Robin and Superboy.” At Red Robin’s name, the one called Tucker made a noise like a teapot starting to steam, and Phantom turned a fanged grin towards his friend. “Don’t mind Tucker, Red Robin. You’re his second favorite hero/vigilante. Oracle being his favorite.”
The five of them struck up a conversation as the two newcomers got led over to the trebuchet. Red Robin gleaned enough information, which was willingly given, to decide that he wanted to be launched. Superboy looked a little skeptical, but Red Robin sat in the sling, and Tucker pulled the lever before anyone could voice objections. Red Robin screamed, and Superboy was in the air faster than even Phantom. By the time the two of them had landed, Red Robin was breathless from excited laughing.
Red Robin decided to mingle with some of the Amity Parkers so he could stalk gather information, both about the town and about Phantom. He didn’t mind posing for the occasional picture or signing an autograph or dozen. Amity Park was just so different from Gotham. The Parkers were openly talking about their problems, where Gothamites would be tight-lipped and ACAB, even to a vigilante.
The Parkers, who aren’t getting launched, told Red Robin all about the ghosts who attack the town, the Fentons who should be on some sort of supervillain watchlist, the GIW which technically stands for Ghost Investigation Ward, but the Parkers called them the Guys In White because they wore all white. And then the Parkers brought up the Anti-Ecto Acts which made Red Robin seethe.
While Red Robin was gathering information, Phantom and Superboy were on catch and release duty. Superboy exuded confidence in a way that Phantom only wished well not wished. Ever since Desiree, Amity Park learned to never “wish”, but Phantom really wanted to have the same kind of confidence.
Sam watched as the two fliers were so awkward with each other, it was painful. She quickly realized that her best friend and former boyfriend was displaying ALL the signs of gay panic about the Kryptonian Super. And as she continued to watch, Superboy was mirroring Phantom. Several of the teens who got launched got front row seats to their weird and awful flirting. Sam, herself, got launched more than once just to get up close to the action.
Red Robin eventually noticed his friend and teammate’s awkwardness and took pictures. For blackmail purposes. He deftly sent the picture to his private server. He would give his clone friend a hard time over it later. After he made sure Phantom was a good fit and would treat Kon right. Red Robin (Tim) briefly wondered how he was going to give the self-proclaimed ghost a shovel talk.
Eventually, the incessant beeping of both of their Justice League communicators irritated them enough for Super to answer since Red Robin had long since gotten used to ignoring Batman, especially when he disappeared without notifying anyone. “Go for Superboy.”
“Superboy. WHERE. IS. RED ROBIN.” Batman growled. Superboy stiffened, and Red Robin merely sighed as he pulled the communicator from the Super’s hand.
“Hey B,” the other hero said casually.
“Red Robin, Report!”
“No can do, B” Red Robin responded cheekily. After all, he’d been lying and standing up to Batman since he was Robin. Batman grunted through the comms before a sigh was heard.
“Is this about…”
“Nuh uh, B. You don’t get to scold me until you’ve dealt with what I just sent to Oracle. Only then will I consider you forgiven,” Red Robin chirped cheekily. Superboy sighed because he knew that he would be getting an earful from both Clark and Batman when they returned. He should never have listened to the damn bird. But then again, he never would have met Phantom. Superboy heard Batman grunt over the comm line.
“Hey, uh, Superboy,” Phantom stuttered behind the Kryptonian. The Super turned his attention away from the bickering Gotham heroes.
“What’s up, Phantom?”
“Could we talk somewhere a little more private?” the half-ghost asked. Superboy looked back at Red Robin, who was still arguing with Batman, and nodded.
They floated some distance into the cool night air; the trebuchet finally silent due to it getting too dark to be safely launched. The two teens watched as the rest of the Parkers dispersed back to their homes before they said anything to each other.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Superboy asked the other once everyone was gone.
“Well, in ghost culture, you’re something known as a Mirrorborn. Uh…that…that means a clone,” Phantom said softly.
Superboy’s face turned nearly murderous. “You got a problem with me being a clone?” He demanded sharply.
“Oh. Not at all. My cousin-sister-daughter is MY clone. The one who made her is a wannabe Lex Luthor knockoff fruitloop. He wanted me as his perfect son and I rejected his shriveled-up ass, but somehow, Phantasm came out female. And of course, she tried to kill me because he brainwashed her into thinking that if she got rid of me, he would love her. It was all bullshit. Eventually, I helped her realize that he was just blowing smoke out of his ass. The reason I’m saying all this is because I’m offering to kick ass of who is your genetic donor/donors. I can feel their rejection of you. And I have absolutely no problems taking names and kicking ass,” Phantom semi-ranted while rubbing the back of his neck.
Superboy felt his entire neck and face flush. No one had ever offered to kick Superman’s ass. (Well, Tim had offered, but Kon didn’t want his friend to get hurt.) But here was this really cute guy offering to not only kick Superman’s ass, but Lex Luthor’s as well. And they’d only just met. Superboy had NO doubt that Phantom could actually take Superman. It made his heart do these weird little flips in his chest.
“Huh,” was all Superboy could muster at Phantom’s vehemence. “Maybe not kicking Superman’s ass. But talking to him. Please. Oh, and can I have your number?” The half-Kryptonian clone watched in abject horror/fascination as Phantom stuck his white-gloved hand into his chest and rooted around eventually coming back out with a phone.
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Superman nearly dropped out of the air at the sight of a teenager sitting atop of the Daily Planet. He didn’t think his heart could handle it if the boy jumped or fell. In fact, the more he thought about it, how did the boy even get up there? Superman had long ago asked Bruce and Tim for sensors so that he could keep an eye out for any potential jumpers, and none of them had been triggered.
“Hiya, Superman,” the boy chirped, as if he’d been waiting for the Man of Steel specifically.
Superman looked over the boy to take in details. He had on a black and white jumpsuit with a logo emblazoned on his chest. White fingerless gloves and white boots matched the logo. His starlight white hair waved and flowed around in the air like it was underwater. But the thing that really stole Superman’s breath was the boy’s toxic green eyes. While Superman had never personally dealt with a Lazarus Pit, he knew what they were and knew what the League of Assassins were doing with them.
“Hello. Can I help you with something?” Superman replied warily.
The boy heaved a sigh. It conveyed such disappointment, like one of Lois’s after he’d forgotten their anniversary, or one of his Pa’s when he broke the hay bales throwing them on the tractor. Again. It made his breath hitch in his chest and his pulse spike.
“What I WANT is for you to get your head out of your tighty-whities and start treating your Mirrorborn…er, clone, like a person,” the boy snapped.
Superman clenched his jaw so hard he was afraid of breaking some teeth. “You have NO idea…”
“What it’s like to be cloned by your archnemesis. For that clone to be sent to be your replacement. To try to kill you. Dude, I’m only 17. I was 15 when I met her. She’s destabilized twice. FUCKING TWICE. The fruitloop who cloned me...He wants to kill my dad, marry my mom, and have me as his perfect son. He doesn’t understand the word ‘no’. I still get into knockdown, drag-out fights with him, which, by the way I win, on an almost monthly basis. He made dozens of clones of me, and I watched all but one melt because apparently cloning a ghost is even harder than cloning a Kryptonian. So, wanna try that again?”
Superman wobblily floated over to land on the golden globe at the top of the Daily Planet’s building. This conversation was NOT going where he expected. He took a page out of Bruce’s book and pinched the bridge of his nose. His head still blossomed in pain, and that was saying something as there wasn’t much that could hurt a Kryptonian.
“I didn’t consent…”
“Neither did children of rape or children whose parents dump them like garbage. Yet, they are still people. They still deserve to be treated as such. You don’t have to call him your son. But you DO have to treat him like he is a PERSON. Like he is alive. Helping him with his powers would be beneficial for…both of you. But if not, I’m reasonably certain that either I can do it, or I can find someone who can.”
Superman opened his mouth to say something, anything, then clacked his jaw closed before the words could escape. “I…I…I will try.”
“That’s all either of us can ask. Here’s my number if you have any questions. Oh, I’m Phantom, by the way. See you around, Supes.”
With that, the boy vanished.
On a farm in Kansas, Conner Kent might have swooned. Just a bit. Like one of those Victorian romance novel characters that Jason had told him so much about. Hearing Phantom both defend him and tear Clark down did something to Conner’s heart. It did those weird flips again. He couldn’t wait to go on his first date with Phantom…Or Danny as the other had told him call him.