Chapter Text
"He was simply being a good son," said his mother.
A good son—?
No—
A good son would've told her the truth from the start, would've trusted her to help him back when he first shocked himself in that portal, wouldn't have lied to her for so long and allowed this to happen—
This—the cops, the crowd, the reporters—all ready to condemn—
His chest ached as Maddie continued her terrible story, each word chipping off another piece of his heart. Truth and lies blended as she described the night he ran away, how she chased him down and cornered him, how she didn't bring him home because she wanted him, needed him, needed his body because she had a theory to test: a link between humans and ghosts, the possibility for human and ghostly biology to merge. And he was the perfect candidate, a perfect specimen, his body ready for such a mutation because he had been exposed to ectoplasmic contamination his entire life, since his conception in her womb. He would be stable, he would be magnificent, he would be her dream. In a secret lab she assaulted him again and again, trying to alter his DNA but she had failed. In the end, he was still human, not a ghost at all.
Not a ghost, she emphasized. No ghost powers. Still completely human.
Everyone was listening. His father and sister standing just outside the front door of Fenton Works, dressed in their pajamas. Detective Calhoun and Vlad on the front walkway. His former therapist, Brandan Cross, listening from the sidewalk. Action News reporter Lance Thunder and all the other media personnel surrounding them. The neighbors and onlookers from other parts of town that came to see the early morning commotion.
And the Guys in White. Operative K and Operative O standing shoulder to shoulder. And the two operatives holding Danny, locking his arms behind his back, the anti-ghost material of their gloves and white suits preventing him from phasing out of their grip. But Danny had stopped struggling now. He stayed still, staring at Maddie like everyone else.
"So I let him go," said Maddie. "I made him find his own way back to our home so the runaway story would still be believable. I asked him to lie for me, and he obeyed. Because I was still his mother. We lied to everyone. To the police, the media. And to my husband and daughter. And when we saw that no one was believing us, I tried to say I was having an affair. I chose Phantom as my lover because everyone already thought I had an ardent interest in him. Even my own husband thought I had feelings for him. And I knew the police could never bring him in for questioning. But all that did was hurt my family. And it caused my son…so much more pain."
She looked at Danny, her eyes clouded.
"More pain than I could ever make up for," she gasped out.
Danny thinned his lips and closed his eyes slightly as he held her stare. Maddie sniffled and breathed in.
"Everyone here wants the truth now," continued Maddie. "Everyone here wants proof. Because all I've done is lie, so why would I stop now, right? Well. I have your proof this time. Proof that I've committed a crime. And proof that Danny is not a ghost."
She gripped her jumpsuit zipper, dragging it down to reveal two sheets of paper hidden against her breast. The crowd began murmuring and chattering as she pulled the papers out and held one in each hand.
Danny's heart thudded. He recognized the arrangement of printed text on the papers even from a distance. The maternity and DNA test results—but how—hadn't they destroyed all the evidence—?
"He's human," said Maddie, handing the DNA test results to Operative K. He took the paper and frowned as he studied it. Operative O leaned over to look at it as well.
"And…he's my son." Maddie handed the maternity test results to Detective Calhoun. His narrowed eyes roamed the page, scanning the printed text line by line.
She rezipped her suit and turned back to K and O, her lips curling in a snarl. "Now let him go," she ordered.
K and O pressed their lips, their foreheads furrowing as their eyebrows fell low under their sunglasses. Danny felt the operatives loosen their grip on his arms and he took advantage of their confusion, breaking away and running up to Maddie. He grabbed her forearms and Maddie held him as well, her fingers wrinkling his long sleeves.
"Mom." Tears blurred Danny's vision. "What are you doing, Mom?"
The spectators bellowed and hollered, roars of outrage and demands for justice.
"What I have to do." Maddie rubbed her thumbs over his arms. "What I should've done a long time ago."
Danny sniffled and shook his head. "No. Mom, no, please."
"Hey." Maddie brought her hand up to his face, cupping his cheek. "You're going to be okay."
Danny heaved a sob and leaned into her hand, trying to speak but unable to get the words out, unable to say that it wasn't enough, that he wanted her to be okay, too—why couldn't they both be okay? Maddie pulled his face close to hers and pressed her forehead against his. He shuddered in her embrace and he couldn't stop. He could feel himself breaking and he couldn't stop.
He wasn't ready when she finally let him go. He wasn't ready when she turned toward Detective Calhoun and stared him down. Calhoun's face was stern, his eyes hard with judgment. He stepped forward and the crowd quieted.
"Maddie Fenton." Calhoun's voice shook even as he tried to sound authoritative. He held up the printed maternity test. "In light of this new evidence and your confession, I am placing you under immediate arrest for kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, and child abuse."
"You will be doing no such thing," said K.
Danny's nerves seized, his blood draining and pooling in his sinking stomach. He turned his head to look at K, who was holding up the printed DNA sheet in one hand and a cell phone in the other.
"I sent a picture of these results to our in-house lab personnel," said K, "and they have confirmed that Danny Fenton's DNA here is a perfect match for Danny Phantom's DNA that we already have on file."
The gallery grumbled and hummed. Danny stared at K, his mouth drying and teeth chattering. He clenched his jaw but his teeth continued to vibrate against each other.
"It—it's human DNA," Maddie sputtered. "Don't they see that?"
"That doesn't matter," said K, folding up the DNA results and placing them in his breast pocket. "Our directive is to bring in Danny Phantom, and this proves that your son is who we have been looking for."
K turned his head slightly, looking past Maddie as he gave a nod. Danny's vision swam and he nearly fell over as two operatives once again pounced on him, locking his arms behind his back.
His mind shifted out of focus, a distorted reality because this couldn't be happening couldn't be right couldn't be real—
And then the operatives forced him upright, forced him to support his weight on his own feet. And suddenly it was all extremely real.
"Mom!" he cried.
Oh God they were taking him this was actually happening not a nightmare this was real oh God oh God oh God—
"Danny!" shrieked Maddie. But two operatives jumped on her as well and Danny knew she couldn't save him, not this time, no one could no one would—
The crowd roared but Danny could not parse out any words, any voices, it was all one loud whir, a rush of sound in his ears underlying the thumping blood in his head. The operatives were pulling him down the walkway and they were stronger than him, so much stronger. Weak and powerless and now everyone knew the truth about just how pathetic Danny Phantom really was.
"Let him go!" Maddie wailed. "Don't do this!"
"Not to worry, Mrs. Fenton," said O, his voice smarmy. He moved in front of her and held up a placating hand. "We will be sure to uphold our end of the deal we made."
The surrounding roar ebbed into a restless buzz, low enough that Lance Thunder could be heard muttering something into his microphone. The operatives stopped dragging Danny and stood still. Danny continued to wrestle with the operatives but his movements weakened as dread sloshed through his stomach.
The two operatives holding Maddie released her but she did not move. The color in her face drained rapidly as she stared at O.
"In exchange for this evidence and confirmation you have provided," said K, moving to stand next to O, "you will be granted an official pardon and full immunity for your independent research involving your son. We thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Fenton."
The onlookers droned and rumbled. But Danny could barely hear them over the sound of his heart shredding, a chill piercing through and breaking it open, ripping it apart.
"What?" he gasped out, a small tear stinging his skin as it trickled down his cheek.
"I didn't agree to that," insisted Maddie. "Danny, I didn't do that. Danny—Danny—"
The operatives started moving again, dragging Danny with them toward the street, toward the white van parked in the middle of the road. Danny's blood sparked with adrenaline, sickening and nauseating and rippling and bursting all his nerves igniting all his muscles because he had to get away had to break away could not let them get him into that van because that would be it that would be all his life would be over—
He thrashed, flailed, kicked and stamped his heels into the walkway, the soles of his shoes scuffing the concrete and his right shin spasming from the pressure and he was sure the bone was breaking and splintering into tiny fragments under his skin but he didn't lift his legs because he had to stay in place, could not let the operatives drag him any farther than this could not let them take him to the street to the van—
The operatives holding him grunted but did not lose their grip as they continued dragging him. Another operative calmly approached and grabbed both of Danny's legs, swiftly hurling them up into the air, the momentum churning Danny's stomach and spinning his head.
And then they were carrying him, down the walkway to the street to the van—
Dear God oh God—
He doesn't give a fuck—
and neither does she—
Danny screamed, not a word, not a name, a plea to someone anyone everyone please God help him don't let them take him—
not a fuck—
One of the operatives holding his arms clamped a gloved hand over his mouth. Danny jerked his head side to side as two of the operative's fingers hooked under his chin, digging into the hollow area and preventing his mouth from opening at all. Danny cried and whimpered and tried to scream again but he was silenced now, no voice to beg anyone to save him not God not Clockwork not his mother no one—
All around him, the crowd was in a deafening uproar. But Danny knew that no one was going to save him.
They couldn't.
Or wouldn't.
both—?
Time twisted and distorted, a dizzying carousel as the world seemed to move all around him, his home getting farther and farther as the white van drew closer, closer. Danny tried phasing through the operatives' gloves but he could not, couldn't get through the sturdy material, but that didn't stop him from trying again and again and again even as his arms and legs bounced back every time, his skin burning with each new attempt.
The operatives stepped off the curb onto the street, a drop in height that jolted Danny and he felt it in his chest, his heart lurching as the operatives turned and carried him around the white van until he was right in front of the open doors. He writhed and contorted, jerking his limbs and body as erratically as he could, but the operatives kept a firm hold on him, an unrelenting grip that rubbed his skin raw through his clothes.
He could barely see now. His eyes were completely flooded with tears and everything was blurry.
But he saw her. Running toward him.
His mother.
A teal figure sprinting down the walkway. The color of her jumpsuit, unmistakable—
His breath halted, and for a moment he believed she could reach him in time.
Just a moment.
The operatives started carrying him into the van and the hope departed, an instant dissolve into thick dread and impending doom.
He was going to die, he was about to die, once he was in this van he would be dead—
The men hurled him into the van, pinning him to the hard metal floor, arms and legs everywhere and in between as they forcibly folded his arms behind his back and secured them together with a heavy belt, another belt around his ankles, another around his knees, his thighs, his hips, his chest, a vest pulled over his shoulders that hooked it all together and now he couldn't move at all, he could only sob as the operatives pushed him into a metal chair and strapped him to it.
And then a gag was shoved into his mouth and he couldn't even sob anymore. But the tears kept falling, dribbling into the thick fabric that wrapped around the back of his head.
The van was moving. Speeding. He could tell as he dipped forward with the momentum, abrupt turns that rocked him far to the side and nearly made him vomit but he swallowed it back down every time. He blinked away the newest wave of tears and inhaled as hard as he could through his nose, trying to get more air, enough air.
never enough—
The van interior was starkly white. Almost blinding. The ceiling, the floor, the bench seats lining the sides—everything had been painted a matte white, pristine and unblemished, no chips or metal glaring through worn areas. Danny felt the need to squint even though the lighting in the back of the van was not particularly bright.
The operatives kept their sunglasses on even inside the van. The three men that had carried him were sitting on the left bench seat, upright and holding large white ecto-guns in their laps. On the right bench were K and O. Danny hadn't even realized they had jumped into the van as well and he could not stop shivering as they both stared at him. K's face was stern and cold. And O…
O was grinning.
Danny turned his head and shut his eyes but he could still feel O leering at him. And very suddenly he was reminded of being in the lab while his mother looked at him in the same way, her eyes roaming over his body and he knew what she was thinking he could practically feel her groping him—
His mother—
Did she really—
—give him up—?
you're right where she wants you—
No God no he couldn't do this again!
He gritted his teeth around the gag and shot a mental command to his molecules, screaming at them to change over, transform, it didn't matter if the operatives saw because they already knew and he had no choice now had to get away and only Phantom could possibly get him out of this—
but is that what your mother wants—?
shouldn't you be a good son and stay where she wants you—?
NO he couldn't do it again don't make him—!
Something popped around his neck, a shock of electricity that blew through his muscles and burned his nerves. He cried out and clamped down on the gag as saliva pooled in his mouth and dripped down his chin. He panted, air flaring hot in his nostrils, the back of his throat stinging as he tried to swallow the rising nausea.
He looked up when he heard chuckling. K's face was still cold but all the other operatives were laughing at him, and O's grin had turned into a sneer.
"I was hoping you'd try that," said O. "We needed to see if it worked."
Danny stared at him, each breath more strangled than the last.
"That collar was designed to suppress all ecto-surges and stop you from transforming." O traced one middle finger around the front of his neck. "But obviously, we hadn't been able to test it yet."
Danny swallowed and noticed that his Adam's apple did indeed bob painfully against an inflexible collar wrapped around his neck.
"It's good to see our guys in the lab really do know what they're doing," said O, sounding quite pleased.
"Although admittedly, they are not as skilled as your parents when it comes to designing equipment for ghost detainment," said K.
"No, but we do plan on enlisting their expertise now that your mother is a free woman," said O. "The law can't touch her now."
The men shared a chuckle and then began to converse with just each other, shutting Danny out, talking about him but not to him. Danny closed his eyes and tried to block them out, tried to pretend he couldn't hear them.
But he couldn't stop the images playing through his head, the troubling memories resurfacing no matter how hard he tried to push them back down. His mother telling everyone what she had done to him, the weeks she tortured him as a lab specimen. And then handing his DNA results directly to the Guys in White, the very proof they needed to take him away because she had made a deal with them to get immunity for her crimes.
your mother is a free woman and you're a prisoner just like she wanted—
No, she wouldn't do that to him—
she did—
He didn't want to believe it but then why else would she keep those DNA test results? She had promised to help him destroy everything, all the evidence in the lab. They had wiped out all the computer hard drives, disinfected every surface, incinerated all the samples. So why would she keep something so damning? And why would she give it straight to a Guys in White operative?
He tried to come up with an explanation, literally any other reason why she would keep those test results. Because there had to be another reason, there had to be, there had to be—
His mother just wouldn't do that to him—
The night before, the way she held him in her arms, tightly wrapped around him and for the first time in so long he felt safe with her, secure enough to fall asleep. So peaceful and calm and he knew the morning would be bad but he had no idea just how bad, not this bad, oh God this was bad—
she knew—
No it wasn't true please it couldn't be true not his mother—
she tortured you for weeks and you really can't believe that she'd give up your life for hers?
She was running toward him. Right before the operatives carried him into the van. He saw her. Breakneck speed, she was trying to save him, bring him back—
you're wrong you didn't see her you were crying too much—
No. No, he definitely saw her.
Didn't he?
Tears spilled down his face in unending streams. His stomach reeled with the jerky movements of the van as it took him God only knew where. Yes, God only knew and He didn't fucking care.