Archive of Our Own ^beta

Danny considered himself lucky, despite all that happened to him for the past four (nearing five) years. The accident, the attacks, the adjustment to life ending change. He was lucky he was still alive (by whatever sense of the word he still seemed to fit while being a ghost at the same time); lucky he had his two best friends and sister, who'd supported him through the entire endeavor; lucky to have a caring teacher, like Mister Lancer, who helped him get back on track with his grades when they dropped after he started to struggle with his vigilante life and new abilities; lucky he made it to senior year and luckier that he managed to get accepted into a few colleges of his choosing that had good courses for his preferred major — Mechanical, Aeronautical, and Industrial Engineering — lucky that having choices was even an option for him. 

He didn't manage to make it to MIT or Caltech, which were his top choices (which he'd applied to, but had known there was a big chance he wouldn't be accepted), but he did manage to make it into University of Illinois at Chicago, University of Wisconsin-Madison, Ohio State University, and Michigan State University. Thankfully, he was saved the absolute stress ulcer he'd definitely get if he'd had to choose because he did get a partial scholarship at University of Wisconsin-Madison ("thank you, Jazz, for convincing me to apply for the scholarship even though I thought I had zero chance of getting it"), which also happened to be his parents' alma mater and they supported him going there automatically because of it. 

Danny decided to make the best of it. He started to read the curricula and the books of the classes he was attending ahead of time, looked up his professors, read the student handbook, he even set up a Linked In account for himself (which he might need soon, since a job with money would definitely come in handy). 

He definitely didn't expect to get a message from a scout at DALVCo. two months into classes offering an internship. 

(He had to look up what DALVCo. was, turns out it was the technological branch of Masters Enterprises. Not well known at all, but apparently they made parts that most big technology companies used.)

VegaGhost: guess what

VegaGhost: i got an internship 

Syke: OMG Danny!!! 

Syke: I'm so happy or you! 

Syke: I didn't know you were applying for internships just yet

VegaGhost: i didn't 

VegaGhost: apparently they found my Linked In profile

VegaGhost: they reached out and offered it 

Syke: wait, really? 

VegaGhost: yeah

Syke: who reached out? 

VegaGhost: a scout from dalvco 

Danny watched the message app as it said Jazz was typing. 

She was probably apprehensive — he was too, after all, it was unusual for big companies to just reach out to people giving good offers — that was textbook human trafficking bait. Or something like that. Jazz was the one majoring in Psychology, not him, but it did sound like it would be the bait to a human trafficking scheme. 

Jazz stopped typing. 

VegaGhost: I checked it, it's legit

Jazz started typing again after thirty seconds or so. 

Syke: DALVCo, owned by Vlad Masters? 

VegaGhost: yeah

VegaGhost: huge, right?! 

Syke: yes

Syke: but

VegaGhost: ?

Syke: do you remember mom and dad's college reunion? 

VegaGhost: yeah

VegaGhost: what does that have to do with this? 

Syke: remember how they kept mentioning we were going to meet dad's college best friend

Syke: Vlad Masters

Danny stared off into the void as he contemplated his entire life. 

Syke: remember it was a whole thing because they kept insisting they knew Vlad Masters

Syke: and then he didn't even show up

Syke: and I was so mad at mom and dad for being delusional

Danny took a deep breath. 

VegaGhost: are you telling me they actually know Vlad Masters? 

VegaGhost: the reclusive billionaire

VegaGhost: irl Bruce Wayne before he became Batman 

Syke: maybe? 

Syke: they definitely knew each other

Syke: I looked it up back then, and they were in the same year at least

VegaGhost: was dad best friends with irl batman

Syke: you're giving him way too much credit

Syke: and 

Syke: maybe

Syke: or mom and dad really are delusional and Vlad Masters was only in the same class as them and happened to want to support a student of his alma mater who happened to be you

VegaGhost: probably the second option 

*

Still, their parents insisted on it when he told them about the internship. 

(He ignored it. If he got hung up on everything his parents did, he wouldn't have a relationship with them.)

*

Sam had been as suspicious as Jazz (if not more), saying those kinds of opportunities didn't just fall on people's laps, and proceeded to grill him on every since detail, especially after he told her about what Jazz told him about his parents being in the same class as Vlad.

*

Tucker cheered and asked him to put in a good word for him in the tech department.

*

The first month at the internship was fine — busy, even considering he only did three days a week with reduced hours (which apparently was how they ran their internship for college students, but he definitely wasn't complaining), but fine. Hazel, the newly graduate they'd assigned to help get him settled in, was nice enough. She wasn't the most talkative; preferred for him to send his questions to her via slack, and would respond with emojis if possible, but she never acted like he was stupid for asking questions. Hazel also had funny memes she would share in response to his jokes occasionally. 

All in all, it was nice.

1 new message from Hazel. 

Danny opened the chat. It was already at the end of his shift, and she hadn't come to talk to him in person, so it probably wasn't urgent. She was probably asking about something he was doing of giving him a reminder. 

HAZEL: 

Company party on the 10th of next month. Starts 7PM. 

A moment later, another message came through.

HAZEL:

Wear something fancy.

DANIEL:

Prom fancy or...?

HAZEL:

Prom fancy. 

HAZEL:

You can opt out. 

HAZEL:

Not a good idea. 

HAZEL:

But you can. 

DANIEL:

Hint taken. 

DANIEL:

I'll be there

HAZEL:

👍

*

The thing about having to wear fancy clothing is that Danny did not anticipate needing that when he packed his luggage for college. Even if he'd be able to pack it when he returned to Amity Park during Thanksgiving. 

Not that he even had that clothing, since he and his friends had decided to opt out of prom their senior year and he walked for graduation in jeans and a dress shirt ("I'm wearing the cap and gown, nobody's gonna see it!"), which meant that his one good suit hadn't gotten updated in three years. There was a big chance his old suit didn't fit him anymore, since he'd gotten a growth spurt his senior year and it was already a bit tight when he wore it in junior year. 

He thought about it on the bus ride to Amity Park, thinking about if he'd have to buy it and where and when he could stop by somewhere to buy it. Jazz — who was already in Amity Park since the previous night due to having come back on a plane (the perks of studying in Yale, which was far away and made it so that only a plane ride was reasonable for the time frame, and also having an internship, which was better than Danny's) — had been gracious enough to pick him up at the bus station with the GAV. 

She had also started laughing at him once he told her his conundrum, as she'd told him to buy a new suit to pack for college and he'd refused on account of: "Why would I need a suit in college, Jazz?". 

Jazz's laughter at Danny's misfortune and the subsequent bickering from the two rang around the house as Danny dragged his carry-on suitcase (which was lacking one of the four wheels and two of the other sorry wheels barely moved) through the front door. The noise elicited attention from their mother, who'd gone to the kitchen shortly after Jazz had announced she'd be taking the RV to pick Danny up from the bus stop to wait for the two. 

"Danny's barely home yet and you two are already fighting," Maddie called as she stepped out of the kitchen wearing her usual teal hazmat. There was a short break in the argument for Danny to greet their mother before she looked at them again, "Why are the two of you bickering?"

Jazz smiled, "Danny didn't pack a suit because he said he wouldn't need one," she explained as she held in a laugh, "He has a party at his internship in December and no suit packed." 

"Well, then, it's a good thing he's here now!" 

"Yeah..." Danny scratched the back of his head as Jazz closed the front door, "I'm taking this upstairs," he picked up the suitcase and headed for the staircase.

"I also told Danny he should shop for a new one," Jazz told smugly, "He said there wasn't a point, since he wasn't going to use one in college."

Danny waved his free hand dismissively as he started to climb the stairs,"Yeah, yeah, my past came back to haunt me. What's new?!" 

"Your mullet!" Jazz called loudly. 

"It's a wolfcut!" Danny corrected from upstairs. 

Maddie laughed at the two and told Jazz she was doing down to the basement to call their father. By the time Danny was coming back down, his parents were already coming up into the kitchen. He moved to hug his father, answering when he asked about the bus ride. 

"You know, Jack," Maddie says as they sat around the table, "Danny was telling me he's going out to buy a new suit soon." 

"A new suit? What's wrong with his old one?" Jack asked. 

"The half foot I grew in the past two years," Danny laughed, "It doesn't fit anymore."

"I was thinking Danny could try one of your old ones, Jack." 

Danny made a face and laughed, "Since when does dad own a suit?" 

"Yeah, that's news for me too," Jazz added, "He didn't even wear one at you guys' college reunion." 

"Why would I?" Jack asked loudly.

Danny and Jazz shared a look, but both opted to say nothing. Danny coughed, "Anyway, I don't think any of dad's clothes are going to fit me. Even now." Because, while it was true that Danny had grown half a foot and now stood at a respectable six feet and two inches, he was still shorter than his father by three inches and had a much more wiry frame.

Maddie laughed, "Not his old ones. From high school. They should be about your size, sweetie."

Jack made a face, "That old thing? You can have it. I don't care for it. It's not practical at all."

Maddie turned to Danny, "It's in that storage, I can show you later, Danny." 

Jazz laughed, "Look, mom and dad's hoarder habits can work to our benefit after all."

*

In the end, the suit did fit Danny, more or less. He had to tighten it a bit, but that was a minimal alteration, which was not a big deal, since he was used to sewing up tears in the time space continuum at least once every fortnight. Altering a suit to fit him when it was already pretty close to his size was a breeze in comparison. He did it on Thanksgiving day, being forced to take pauses in between to fight whatever rogue had heard he'd come back to town. Which was a big number, apparently, because he barely had a second to rest while he was in Amity Park. 

A few days before the party, Hazel stopped by his desk, "You got a suit?" She asked, voice low, almost in a whisper, like she tended to hold herself. 

He nodded, "Altered it and everything." Danny added, watching as Hazel nodded. "Why did you say it wasn't a good idea to miss the party? Are there gonna be important people there?" She nodded again, "I didn't take you for a networking person." 

"My friend is," she clarified, "I just do what he says. He's a nepo-baby, he understands this." 

"Smart friend," Danny laughed, "You should introduce us sometimes." 

"No," Hazel made a face of disgust, "Ugh, you'd get along." She uttered as she walked off. 

*

The party was held in a ballroom on the second floor of the DALVCo. building, a wide room with floor that Danny could only recognize as white statuario because Sam pointed out that it was an expensive type of flooring on a party she'd taken him to as a plus one for her parents' company. 

The place was already being filled when he arrived, a few minutes past seven. He felt a bit like he was in his eighth grade dance, where he wasn't friends with anyone and he could only barely recognize people's faces without being able to put a name to the faces he was seeing. Danny thanked the ancients when he saw Hazel, near the food table, already holding a plate whilst she spoke to someone he recognized from their department.

Hazel looked him up and down and gave him a thumbs up, "Good suit." She congratulated, a hint of a smile on her face as she adjusted her thick framed glasses. She was wearing a simple, dark blue, long-sleeved, floor length gown, but it still complimented her cool-toned dark skin nicely and it didn't take away from her accessorized long braids. Hazel turned to the man she had been talking to, a man in his forties with a simple black suit and black tie, he was perfectly average. "This is Harry Stewart, the head of our department." She turned to Danny, "The new intern." 

Danny smiled and offered his hand, "Danny Fenton. Nice to meet you, sir." 

The man shook his hand, "Call me Harry, please." He looked at Hazel with a smile, "I hope he's not giving you too much trouble, I know you've had trouble with interns in the past." 

"Danny's more than adequate." She answered without expression or shift in her tone. 

"Good, good," Harry said, turning to Danny, "You know, Hazel, here, was hired before she even graduated. Sadly, she had some problems with an intern this summer. I'd hate for that to happen again." 

That seemed like a lot of personal information about an employee to just be giving out to an intern. Still, Danny smiled as the volume in the ballroom seemed to pick up a notch, "No, Hazel is a great superior, sir." 

"Good, good..." Harry said, staring off at something else, "Wouldn't want that to happen." Suddenly, someone appeared at his side and whispered something to him. "He's here?" 

Danny looked at Hazel to see her staring at the interaction with a slight furrow in her brow. The other guy whispered something else, looking troubled, like he was about to sweat his balls off. Hazel ate a croquette off her place. 

Eventually, Harry and the other guy walked toward another person a few feet from them, leaving Danny and Hazel standing by the food table. Danny looked at them, then at Hazel, realizing that, if he didn't talk loud, he and Hazel could have a conversation without Harry and the others hearing. "Was he throwing shade at you?" 

Hazel stared at him for a second, eyes wide, but not scared, almost as though she needed to open as wide as they got to properly evaluate him. "Yes." 

Then came the catch, because Danny wanted to know why, he had guesses, but he wasn't sure it was polite to say. "Is it because..." 

Even with the question up in the air, Hazel had no problem figuring out what he meant. "He's a transphobe. So was the last intern." 

"What an asshole." 

"Yes." She agreed, eating another croquette idly. 

Danny chewed on his lip, frustrated that he couldn't offer anything better. "Who do you think they're talking about? When they said someone was here?" 

Hazel shrugged, "Probably the CFO or someone like that. Someone important to them." She said, looking around thoughtfully as the noise in the ballroom got louder. "Or Vlad Masters. 

Danny laughed, "How funny would that be..."

"It is funny," Hazel commented. 

Is? Not would be? 

Danny felt his brow furrow as he followed Hazel's gaze, fixed ahead on something in the entering of the ballroom. As he turned his head, he found, most people's gazes were either fixed in that direction or sneaking curious glances toward it. 

Now, Danny was not too tuned in on politics or celebrities, but Sam was rich and had to know about both and Tucker cared mostly about celebrities and tech. From them, he'd learned how to spot that someone was cheap (not because of their clothes, but how they fit them), and he'd learned that people in tech called Elon Musk "elongated muskrat". 

He could guess that the white haired man strutting through the ballroom, greeting people as he went, was important. The man walked like he owned the place, like he was comfortable in his clothes — which he probably was, because they fit him perfectly. 

He could guess he was not only important, but likely the most important person in the entire ballroom by all that. 

Danny knew he was. 

(Because, after he didn't remember his parents' claims that they were friends with Vlad Masters, Jazz made a point to flood their chat with pictures of the man, so that it would stick in Danny's mind. It did stick in his mind.)

Vlad Masters seemed to be walking in their general direction. 

No, Danny wasn't panicking, he had no reason to believe Vlad Masters was walking in their direction to talk to them. Hazel was a great person, but she was likely as unimportant as him (to someone like Vlad Masters, at least). "So, what do we do if he comes to talk to us?" 

Hazel looked at him like she couldn't believe was he was saying, because she likely couldn't. "He won't." She assured. "If he does, I'm committing suicide." 

Danny laughed, "He's not that bad. Probably. I don't know him." 

"Probably," she agreed, "But I will be." 

He looked at her, now empty, plate, "We're standing by the food table," Danny noted, receiving a mood from her, "That's probably why he's coming in our general direction. Food." 

Except Danny knew for a fact that arriving and immediately gunning for food was considered impolite ("You may be here for the food, but they don't need to know that," he remembered Sam telling him).

Just when Vlad was a few feet from them and Danny thought maybe Mister Masters really was that hungry, Harry and the two people with him shot forward, offering their hands to Vlad as they greeted and introduced themselves to him. 

"I am quite fine, if I do say so myself." Vlad said upon promoting, eyes shifting to Danny and Hazel, "May you introduce me to these young people?" 

Harry laughed boisterously and waved a hand dismissively, "Oh just a new-grad software engineer and an intern from my department. There's no need for you to concern yourself with them." 

Danny would've probably spotted the subtle raise of Vlad's eyebrow of he hadn't been busy muttering, "That's rude." 

"Agreed," Danny's head whipped toward Vlad in shock — he thought he wasn't speaking that loud, that someone not paying attention wouldn't hear (but maybe Vlad had been paying attention). "These new hires, they're an investment in the company's future. I came here today with the intent of meeting them." 

"You did?" The first guy who came to talk to Harry asked incredulously. 

"Of course you did!" Harry said as if it was obvious from the start, smiling tightly as he turned to Danny, "This is own new intern, Dennis Fenton." 

Rude. Double rude. No, actually, triple rude. Danny couldn't help making a face, "It's Danny, as in Daniel, actually." He said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he tried not to appear as angry as he was. He looked Harry in the eyes, "Also, shouldn't you have introduced Hazel first? She outranks me." 

Harry's smile got tighter as it threatened to waiver, "Of course, of course... this is—" 

Vlad raised his hand in a stop sign calmly, "No need, I'll let these kids introduce themselves, since they're clearly more adept." He made a shooing gesture at Harry and the two people with him, "Leave, now. I will speak to you later." Danny watched, trying not to let his jaw drop to the floor in surprise as the three walked away. He turned to Hazel, whose mouth was closed, thankfully, but her eyes were wide in shock. Vlad groaned, "I really out to fire him soon." 

Danny shared a look with Hazel before he looked at Vlad, "Whatever you think is best, Mister Masters."

Vlad raised an eyebrow, "You disagree with that decision?" 

"No, I agree, but I also met him today and thought he's a tool, so I'm biased." Danny admitted, turning to Hazel, "Anyway, this is Hazel Howard." He said, nudging Hazel with his elbow. 

Hazel sprung up like a toy being wound up, offering her hand to Vlad, “Pleasure to meet you!”

Vlad laughed as he took her hand, “The pleasure is mine, truly. Though, I must admit, while it's delightful to find Mister Fenton is such a polite young man, I already knew who you were. I made a point to look into all the new hires and interns before coming.” 

Now, Danny was very confident in himself these days, he didn't care as much about what other people thought of him or his family. That did loads to help his reputation because it also meant he could build his reputation as a weird, geeky queer by his own (which most people would say was the nail in the coffin of his terrible social life, but his classmates seemed to respect him much more when he embraced his weirdness than when he tried and failed to fit in). He stopped caring about what everyone else thought of him because he realized it really didn't matter most of the time. Vlad Masters was his employer, it very much mattered if he thought Danny's parents were a disgrace to science. So, forgive Danny, but he started sweating when Vlad said that.

“You did?" Danny asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Why, of course! I meant it when I said that new hires are an investment in the company's future.” Vlad exclaimed, "Miss Howard here was hired a year ahead of her graduation after interning with us for just six months because of her innovative designs." Vlad paused and looked at Danny and he braced himself for whatever Vlad knew or had found about his parents. “And, well, you made national news yourself when you were just fourteen years old, Mister Fenton.”

“I did?" Maybe sounding confused about his own accomplishments wasn't a good route to go, but Danny genuinely didn't remember what he was referencing.

Vlad gave him a confused look, "The purple-back gorilla story?”

Danny's eyes widened, “Oh! You mean Delilah?” He put a hand on his forehead in relief, "Ancients, I forgot that made the news.”

Was it possible? Had he actually gotten scouted for his own merit?

"And he’s humble too!” Vlad chuckled, looking at Hazel knowingly. Danny was too busy trying to recompose himself, he didn't notice the calculating look Vlad gave him. “Say, how do you like Miss Howard as your superior?" 

Danny shrugged, “I think she’s great, I got no complaints.”

Vlad nodded, “Do you think she’d do better in a higher position?”

Danny looked at Hazel, who did a subtle shrug. He looked back at Vlad, "Sure. I think having her train interns is kind of a downgrade.”

He nodded thoughtfully again, turning to Hazel. "Harry Stewart’s position is about to be unoccupied, how would you like it?”

Hazel’s jaw did drop to the floor this time. She stared in shock for about a minute before Danny elbowed her and she shook her head, "Can I think about it?”

Vlad smiled warmly, “Of course. The official offer will be sent a month from now, I trust you’ll have plenty of time to think about it until then?" 

She nodded, then excused herself.

After a few moments of silence where Danny and Vlad watched as Hazel left, Vlad finally spoke up. “Ancients,” he repeated, Danny looked at him. "What strange slang. Pray tell, where did you pick it up? There must be a story behind it.”

Danny laughed, “Oh, someone I know says it." 

“You must introduce us, if the opportunity ever arises.” Danny highly doubted that would ever happen, since the Venn Diagram that included Vlad Masters and Clockwork most likely had no overlap, but he just smiled. "I’m not sure if you know, but I graduated from the same college as your parents — which is where you’re enrolled.”

Danny pursed his lips, trying to look normal as his panic spiked once again. He tried to swallow through the knot in his throat, "You were in the same class, right?”

“Yes," he confirmed, looking down at Danny’s suit with something that seemed to be amusement or longing, “In fact, I could've sworn that was the suit your father wore at some dance in our senior year of high school." 

“It probably is the same. I didn't have a suit, so I altered one of my dad's old ones.”

“You sew?" 

"Something like that." Danny cleared his throat. “Wait, did you say High school?” Danny asked, Vlad nodded. “I didn't know you were also in high school together.”

Vlad pursed his lips as he stared ahead at the party, “I take it your parents don't find much time to speak of me." 

“Well, no, but the only time they did, I didn't believe them.” Danny admitted, considering his parents may not have been delusional, after all. “Were you friends?" 

“We were roommates.”

It took a lot of effort, but Danny managed to keep his eyebrows from floating up to the stratosphere. "Why did you stop talking?”

Vlad avoided his eyes, like the thought pained him, “I suppose we had decided to follow differing pathos." He cleared his throat, “If you’ll excuse me, I have some people I need to speak to, but it was delightful to meet you.”

Danny was so getting fired because his parents were weirdos.

*

There was a time Vlad’s every waking thought could be tied back to Maddie and Jack Fenton. If he thought about his physical pain, he'd think of the accident; if he thought about any of his emotions, fear, loneliness, helplessness, he'd think of his empty hospital room.

Had they been disgusted by the fact that he was now ecto-contaminated? Had they figured out what the ecto-contamination actually did to him and left him alone as a courtesy of being friends for so long?

Would he haunt them or would they hunt him?

After a while, thoughts that involved the Fentons by default stopped hogging his every second. He'd think of them a few times a day. He had other things to worry about now that he knew how to use his powers to his own advantage — he had a business to take care of. He could make use of the times he did think of them to keep tabs on them, read their research papers, keep up with their patents, make sure they weren't coming after him.

When he figured out how to make his own portal work? That was a tide changer. He could now explore the Infinite Realms (or Ghost Zone, as the Fentons had coined) and all it had to offer… even with its strange culture. 

The ghosts liked to fight — fighting was to them what speaking was to the living. It was communication, it was sport, it was bonding. He'd even categorized a few different ways of fighting: 

• Boundaries (when it involved territory — sometimes to fight over it, sometimes to communicate that a ghost had trespassed); 

• Spars (bonding, sport); 

• Greetings (fighting as a way to know one another); 

• Challenges (sometimes spars could be challenges, but challenges usually entailed earning a title of some sort).

When he heard news of a brand new halfa who fought all ghosts who crossed his path, Vlad retreated. He had no idea who this halfa was and how he came to be — for all he knew, this halfa was intentionally created by the Fentons and groomed to fight ghosts.

He tried asking other ghosts what they knew, but the thing with ghosts and gossip was that talking about a ghost’s life was taboo. Phantom was a halfa, which meant that any information he wanted was off limits on the gossip side. So the most he managed to get out of Skulker was that his girlfriend seemed to think Phantom didn't know what he was doing, since he was so young as a ghost, so his attempts at communication were as elaborate as a baby attempting speech.

Vlad hadn't thought about Phantom, or the Fentons, for a while. It wasn't until he was looking into the new hires before the end of the year party that he saw Daniel Fenton in the files. Now, that wasn't the first time he heard of Daniel — he always kept tabs on the Fentons’ publications and any publications that involved that surname, so he was alerted by the surname showing up in a publication by Genius Magazine reporting how Daniel Fenton figured out one of the two male purple-back gorillas was actually female while doing an extra credit assignment for school.

Meeting Daniel was fine, even better that Vlad was able to confirm that the boy didn't seem to follow his parents’ ghost hunting obsession, but it was disturbing in a way. He was almost like the perfect mixture of his parents, with Maddie's face and Jack’s hair and eye color. Daniel seemed to have inherited his mother’s build, but Jack’s old suit fitting him so perfectly hit the final nail in the coffin that this boy was a haunting of Vlad’s biggest regret, grievance, and yearning.

Meeting him, Vlad considered maybe what Maddie and Jack had done hadn't been retreating in disgust, but maybe what they had done was forget him. Daniel barely knew who he was or his history with his parents. They might or might not be aware of Vlad’s ghostliness, but one thing was clear: Vlad was nothing more than a footnote to them.

When Spectra mentioned in passing that Vlad never showed up to the Truce Parties anymore and barely spoke to people, he decided to show up to the upcoming one. Phantom was merely an infant by ghost standards, anyway, the chances of him being there were minimal. So, when the time came that the party should be in full swing, he put his work away and went into his portal.

Seeing a white haired ghost there with Daniel’s body and face was even more disturbing than seeing Daniel himself.

He was playing with some ghost child he’d never seen before. If he didn't know this was the Truce Party, he might have thought it was a young man playing with his younger cousin at a family barbecue.

After Vlad got his bearings back together, he approached the ghost closest to him, Skulker, the hunter. “Who’s that ghost over there?" 

Skulker looked over at the direction he was pointing, “Youngblood, he has this thing where adults can’t see him — Ember was one of the only ghosts that could see him before Phantom convinced him to come to the Truce Parties." 

Vlad’s eyes widened against his will, “That’s Phantom?" 

"Oh, you meant Phantom?” Skulker exclaimed, "Yeah, that's the whelp." 

“Are you sure?" 

"Do I look confused to you, Plasmius?”

Vlad loved it when Skulker gave him a reason to drag him across the mud verbally (not that he’d need much effort to do it physically), “Frankly, I didn't expect your prey to be a barely legal teenager, is all. You speak so highly of yourself, one would think the target you keep losing to would have a bit more life experience." He looked young, ancients, he looked so young.

Skulker stuttered for a few moments, “You never fought him, you got no room to talk." 

Vlad rolled his eyes, but, before he could say anything in response, Spectra approached them, which seemed to prompt Skulker to leave in a mood like a teenager, as if he wasn't a grown (only in age) man. "So you did come, Plasmius!" She grinned, “I’m glad I still know how to push your buttons." 

"That is hardly the case,” Vlad commented with a sigh.

“What were you talking about?”

Vlad gestured at Phantom with his eyes, “Skulker here insists he’s consistently lost to a halfa who should have about five years of afterlife experience because the boy is simply that good.”

Spectra pursed her lips in thought, "I wouldn't say he’s ‘that good’...” she deliberated, “But he’s powerful. And kind of smart — don't tell him I said that, though." 

Vlad raised a single eyebrow, “No insults?"

"Sadly, no,” She sighed, "I honestly thought I would have driven him to suicide at this point, but the brat seems really intent on the whole surviving thing." Sometimes, Vlad forgot that Penelope Spectra was, in fact, an energy vampire and not solely his gossip buddy. “Besides, he did earn respect from most people around here.”

“How ever did he do that?

“Well, he fought them two dozen times,” She shrugged, “And won most times." 

Perhaps Vlad was wrong, perhaps Phantom’s afterlife was older, perhaps it was a decade or so and he only started interacting with other ghosts and Amity Park five years ago. (Maybe the Fentons had created that halfa from scratch and trained him to fight).

It was then that Vlad stepped closed, maybe a foot or so, and he saw something, a faint mist around Phantom's head — as if he was someplace cold and not the mild weathered region of the Infinite Realms they were in. Phantom's head snapped around, like he was searching for something, a sign of danger, maybe.

It was easy to pinpoint the moment Phantom spotted him, his green not blue eyes shooting from him to Spectra in confusion as he said something to Youngblood and started moving their way.

Penelope laughed shrilly as Phantom got into earshot, “The living do always turn up eventually.” She looked him up and down, "Well, whatever you are, anyway.”

Phantom shrugged, "Tell me when you figure it out.”

She smiled, "Or you could, you know, get the job done and make this easier for all of us." 

Phantom looked thoughtful for a moment, “I think I need to pass as alive to become an astronaut, so you're gonna need to wait a little longer for that." 

Spectra scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Things were much easier when you cared about what people thought of you." 

“Everyone thought I was a weirdo anyway, might as well embrace it," Phantom said calmly. His voice wasn't unfamiliar to Vlad, it had a faint echo that could only be a remnant of some sort of ghostly wail, but the pattern it followed reminded Vlad of something. Phantom looked at Vlad and furrowed his brow, “Have we met before? You look kind of familiar." 

Vlad's theories rang around his brain as he calmly said, “I certainly have not seen you in the Ghost Zone before and my place of residence is far from — was it Amity Park?" Phantom nodded, “How do you manage to live there, anyway? I heard there are ghost hunters in that town. Sounds like a dangerous place for a halfa such as yourself.”

Phantom turns to Spectra in confusion, "Doesn't he know?”

Spectra looked at her nails, bored, "Don't you know we don't talk about life?”

"Yeah, but that's a part of my afterlife too.”

"You halfas complicate everything,” Spectra groaned as she walked away, leaving Phantom and Vlad by themselves.

Vlad sighed, "The lines do tend to get blurry…”

Phantom’s head whipped in his direction again, “Wait, you're a—you’re the other halfa?!" 

So he did know another halfa existed. Maybe Phantom was more integrated in ghost society than he thought. “Yes.”

Phantom's breath got quicker as his eyes widened and a smile stretched onto his face, "Wait—hold on, I have so many questions!”

Vlad had to admit, even if just to himself, it was refreshing to see the excitement on this kid's face. He didn't usually have the patience for younger people for too long, but this made him think that maybe he could stand to keep this halfa around, as soon as he could ascertain that he was not a threat. “I'm sure you do, I have some of my own — in fact, I believe I've already asked you one." Vlad said as he walked away from the other ghosts, Phantom following seamlessly.

Phantom looked around as he tried to remember the question, “Oh, right, you did." He said, scratching his scalp. “The ghost hunters are my parents." 

Forgive Vlad if he blue screened for a moment, but those were shocking news.

If Phantom was the ghost hunters’ — Jack and Maddie's — child, that meant he was Daniel Fenton and that Daniel Fenton was a halfa.

Just when he thought fate couldn't surprise him anymore. 

"Your parents… do they know?”

Daniel shook his head, "Not really. I tried telling them in the beginning, but then I didn't and after a while it got kind of awkward.” 

That was… one way this could be put, Vlad would definitely not put it that way. “You don't feel safe with them?" (He didn't know why he said it, he didn't know why he cared about the safety of a teen he hardly knew, but he said it anyhow.)

Daniel laughed, “It's not like that, they're just… they are the shoot first and ask questions later kind of people, you know?" 

Vlad stared, “I do not." 

The boy shrugged as if he hadn't a care in the world, “You know, they're kinda trigger happy. It's not like they wouldn't accept me after I got to explain it to them, but they'd probably get to conclusions first and that would be a hassle, you know what I mean?" 

Vlad blinked, “You mean they'd be violent first and use reason after the fact?" 

“No," Daniel frowned, “No, violent is a strong word — they're not violent!" He laughed nervously, “They are just… they're impulsive!”

“They are impulsive and they have access to dangerous weapons," Vlad repeated calmly, “Which you said they are trigger happy with." 

“I know it doesn't look like it, but they're safe." Daniel huffed, "Why do you care so much, anyway?”

Vlad raised an eyebrow, "I believe it's what any mildly well-mannered person would do.” He reasoned. That was probably why he cared — humans (even if he wasn't one completely anymore) were pack animals, caring for the safety of others, especially those younger, was natural — he cared for Daniel as a fellow human being, not because he had any sort of affection for him (or because this affection came from the fact that this was the child of his old friends). “Does it bother you?" 

“There's nothing for you to worry about." Daniel affirmed after staring at Vlad for a few seconds. “I don't even know who you are, anyway." 

Did Vlad care enough to reveal himself? Did he know that Daniel wasn't a threat? (He shouldn't be, it was illogical, but there was still a chance.) “Plasmius." 

Daniel's frown grew more pronounced as he crossed his arms. “That's not your real name." 

Vlad felt a sliver of guilt over squashing this boy's hope of immediate closeness, but Daniel had volunteered all his information out of his own accord. Vlad was no such fool. "We're in the Ghost Zone, Phantom, this is how the ghosts call me. Should we meet in the real world, I'll tell you my real name.” 

Daniel didn't need to know they already knew each other in the human world..

*

Vlad needed to know more about Phantom — not because he was nosy (except he totally was) but because knowing was safety. Vlad needed to know that Daniel existing (or Phantom… or both) was not a threat to his continued existence. If Skulker thought that he was interested in Daniel because he asked where he usually hung around, Vlad would just have to live with it. Or die with it. Skulker could be paid off, a ghost hunter halfa likely could not. 

Finding Daniel took some time, Vlad had to go to about eight different locations before he finally found Daniel with the Greeks, sitting down as he sewed something up and watched a giant woman who seemed to be training with a spear. 

“What are you working on over there?" 

Daniel's head snapped in his direction as he put the fabric beside him, "It’s nothing. What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to visit the Greeks?”

“You are, you just don't." Daniel said, eyes hardened as he, most likely, tried to figure out what Vlad was doing there.

"And how would you know that?” Vlad asked smugly, “Did you ask about me?" 

"I didn't need to, you said it yourself. You said you never met me in the ghost zone. That means we don't go to the same places.”

“Quite a clever inference." 

"Yeah, it also means you probably came here looking for me.”

“That is correct,” Daniel gestured for him to go on, “I believe we got off on the wrong foot." 

“You mean when you try to insinuate my parents are abusive or when you told me you weren't going to tell me your name after I pretty much gave away my identity? Or maybe when you walked away right after that?”

Now, Vlad was not going to apologize for saying Jack and Maddie weren't safe for Daniel. That was a fact, one he had made sure to ascertain as soon as he returned home after the Truce Party, there were tons of video evidence to back him up on that claim. A near unending supply of video evidence of them shooting and threatening Phantom. "The second one.”

“Ah." 

"And, truly, I apologize for that, but, you must understand, speaking of these topics is not the norm in the Infinite Realms." 

Daniel looked away in deep thought, brow furrowing and relaxing in succession over a whole silent minute. He looked at Vlad again, tentatively. “I never got to ask any questions." 

Vlad nodded, "I won't answer all of them but I can promise to answer some.”

Daniel looked at him with a determination Vlad had yet to see of him, “How did you die?”

Vlad laughed, "I see you're starting with the easy questions, Daniel." 

“Just Danny is fine," he corrects, “Besides, it's the most objective way of asking what I want to know." 

“Which would happen to be what?" 

“I want to know what about your death made you a halfa." Vlad just nodded, wondering how he was going to answer that with any degree of truth without giving away his identity. “I have theories. About mine — but mine was too specific. I want to know what's the common factor." 

"Aren't you a little scientist?” Vlad said as he scratched his head nervously.

"I was raised by two.”

"I know…” Vlad pursed his lips, "I was exposed to ectoplasm during a laboratory accident." 

Danny shot up in excitement, like a puppy when their owner arrived. “You too?" 

That was concerning. Daniel was a concerning person with a concerning backstory and even more concerning parents. Vlad wasn't one to worry about other people — or, ancients forbid, their well being — unless they were a threat to him. Danny was a potential threat, it was in Vlad’s best interest that the Fentons decimated him without asking questions or leaving traces for them to study and potentially use against Vlad in the future. Vlad made a face, “Don't look so happy about it." 

“I'm sorry, I just never had anyone to talk about this." 

“Death, as it stands, is quite an individual experience." 

"Yeah, everyone is so awkward about it.”

Staring at this young man, a teenager still, was nothing new, but it felt like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him and he was now locked in position, unable to move his body. He fought for his movement back and cleared his throat, “Everyone?" Who is everyone?

Danny sighed, "The ghosts say death is a part of life, so most of them don't wanna talk about that and my friends always get uncomfortable with—”

“Your friends?" Vlad couldn't help but sound judgemental. Because he was judging. How many people was this kid telling his secret to? Was it even really a secret? How many people knew? 

"Yeah, they were with me when it happened.”

“What could you possibly mean?" Count Vlad baffled, bamboozled even. One might say he was shocked, flabbergasted, or shook. Well, he was every one of those things and it was taking everything in him to not let his jaw drop to the floor. Because it would be gross. The ground, in general, was a gross place, the ground in the Infinite Realms could be… slimy.

"They were there,” Danny said, enunciating more clearly. “You know, in my accident." 

Vlad nodded, because apparently Danny wanted him to act as if that was a normal thing to happen, “Right… How did that happen, exactly?”

"I was with them in my parents’ lab and—”

“Pray tell, how did you get access to their laboratory?" 

“I had chores in there,” Danny shrugged, “It's in the basement." 

"Of course.” Why did Vlad expect the Fentons to be responsible in any sense?

“Yeah, anyway, Sam dared me to go inside to take a picture.” Danny shrugged again.

“It was on?”

“No, they tried to turn it on and it didn't. It was off." 

Something was still missing from that story. “Wait, did it blow up on you?" 

“No, it turned on while I was inside." He said casually looking at Vlad, "Did yours blow up?”

Vlad blinked, “On my face.”

“Oh, that sucks." Vlad didn't believe in therapists, but he believed Daniel might need one, because that reaction was way too casual for someone well-adjusted. "Wait, I’ve never heard of anyone except my parents working with ectoplasm.” How had Vlad forgotten there was a reason why he didn't want to give Daniel any information? He was smart, Vlad knew Danny was smart. How did Danny manage to catch him so out of left field that he forgot? "They’ve been harvesting their own ectoplasm for, like, twenty years. The only people they've ever sold it to are the Guys In White—" 

“The what?”

Danny blinked, “Uh, the Ghost Investigation Ward, GIW. I call them the Guys In White." He explained, waving a hand dismissively. There was something in his face as he looked into the far distance, unnaturally green eyes moving with his thought process as his face hardened into an expression of confusion, "Did you know my parents?”

He disappeared and left, Danny didn't follow.

Call Vlad a coward, but cowards stayed alive.

*

“Maybe if you carried bad memories around long enough, they started to change how you walked, how you talked. How you thought.”

― Julia Keller

*****

Danny avoided calling his parents for a variety of reasons. 

They didn't pick up eighty percent of the time because they were too absorbed in their work on the basement to hear the landline phone ringing. 

He'd get asked about two short questions (three, if he was lucky) before his parents went on a tangent about ghosts and how they wanted to tear them apart molecule by molecule. 

Whenever they asked about his relationships, he needed to lie about how he wasn't seeing anyone because he was focused on studies — the lie he'd been telling them for the past two years because he didn't want to admit or explain that he wasn't dating anyone because he already had a weird ass situationship with Dash which both of them refused to turn into a relationship because Dash was, in sum, a terrible person. 

He also thought his parents had killed someone.

Someone else?

Did Danny count as someone they killed?

They didn't press the button to turn the portal on, Danny did, but why was there a button on the inside? Why was the portal plugged into the power? Except Danny knew not to mess with his parents' inventions and he did anyway.

His inner monologue was starting to sound like Plasmius had at the party. That was dangerous territory to barge into. He couldn't start thinking like that — he did that in the early days, it left him bitter and hurt over things that he knew his parents would never do if they knew who he was.

They didn't know.

At one point, it had seemed like telling his parents was a must. Something that would happen regardless if he wanted it to or not, most likely in a short period of time.

Now, he wondered if he ever would work up the nerve to do so. Then what? Say he actively chose not telling them instead of just chickening out every time, there were still other ways they could find out. An invention, them doing the math and figuring out things didn't add up at long last, someone who knew saying something on accident… How would they react then? Wasn't it better to do it himself, like he'd intended to since the beginning?

Reason said yes. If he chose to come out to them about this, he could choose how, when, and what would be said, he could make measures to protect himself if they had the wrong reaction. It was the only action that made sense.

Something in Danny's brain nagged, way in the back, saying it didn't make a difference, that they could never understand it, that they might not be willing to.

Danny picked up his phone and called home at the first impulse, because he knew stopping to think about it for even a split second would get him to second-guess himself and give up.

His dad picked up the call, "Hey, dad, it's me."

"Danny-boy! How are you?!"

Danny laughed, "I'm fine. I, uh, I just called to say happy new year!"

"Happy new year, son!" Danny heard shuffling on the other end of the line, then low chuckling, "What a good time to be alive, don't you think?!"

Probably. Except Danny wasn't alive. Not really.

Sure, if you took a heart monitor and hooked him up to it, the machine would say he was alive. But that was a human definition of life.

Except he also met the ghosts' definition of death. They viewed death as a milestone — a life changing one. The existence you had after you crossed over was not life, it was afterlife.

So Danny was tragically stuck in the middle as a big uncertain.

Which came mostly from his humanity. The ghosts accepted him as one of their own irrevocably, the humans… not so much.

People said death was the only certainty in life, but ghosts actually had death as a certainty, like birth — it was the beginning of something new.

By ghost standards, Danny was definitely dead. Even if they recognized he still had a Life (with a capital L).

Humans weren't as sure, but, by human medical standards, Danny was also considered very much alive.

Was he both or neither?

His dad was still talking. Had Danny been answering on autopilot? Or did his dad just keep talking and not realize Danny wasn't listening? Maybe the second one, Danny didn't think he'd been tuning out for that long. "Hey, dad?" He cut in, his dad stopped talking and made a questioning noise. "I was just wondering, did you ever work with anyone else?"

His father laughed, "What kinda question is that, Danny. I work with your mother every day!"

"No, I know that," Danny bit his lip, "I meant if you guys have ever work with someone else. I can't remember that happening, but who knows..."

"Oh, you wouldn't, that hasn't happened since before you or Jazzy were born."

"Really?" Danny asked, closing his eyes and hoping the next thing his father said didn't confirm his suspicions. "When was it?"

"The last time it happened, we were in college."

"College?"

"Yeah, we were working on a prototype for the portal and we called my buddy, Vlad, to take a look at it." Danny hated his stupid baka life. "But there was a malfunction and it blew up in his face!"

"What…"

"He was in the hospital for years too!"

"Wait, do you mean Vlad Masters?"

"That's the one!" Jack said excitedly, "We visited him, but he didn't want to hear it."

"Your invention blew up in his face!" And Danny was the one blowing up now. His dad got quiet on the other end of the line, "How can you talk about it all happy when this guy's life got ruined?"

"Well, it was hardly ruined, he's rich now." Jack mumbled.

"You just said he spent years in the hospital." Danny took a breath in a attempt to calm down, "He could've died!"

Jack made a noise of dissent, "Well, his heart stopped for a few minutes, but he's hardly dead!"

"His heart—He actually died?!" Danny made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a muffled scream. "Dad, what the hell? I—" Danny breathed in deeply, "Ugh, I can't talk about this anymore. Bye, dad."

As Danny hung up the call, he noticed his phone was wet. Did he sweat during the call? His temperature was a little unregulated sometimes because of the whole being dead thing, so it wasn't uncommon for him to heat up, break out in a cold sweat, or start shivering out of nowhere.

He put a hand to his forehead. Dry.

Something cold slid down from his cheek to his neck. Danny's hand went down to his cheek to check that it came from his eyes.

Danny put his phone on the bedside table, laid down, and spent the rest of the night sobbing his eyes out because he didn't know what else he was supposed to do.

*

Every ghost had a haunt.

Vlad divided the haunt types in three:

• "Real world" permanent placed that was tied to the ghost's obsession;

• "Real world" places that tied to their obsession and were only permanent in theme;

• A manifestation of their obsession that formed in the Infinite Realms in the absence of a real world location and could be shaped however the ghost preferred.

He thought the first type was weak and flimsy, it could be desecrated at any moment in time and its destruction usually caused a breakdown for the ghost in question, which could end in them ceasing to exist. They tended to be territorial and illogical about it.

The second type felt pathetic to him — needing to depend on something and move with it — it gave them no control, although it did ensure a longer afterlife. They weren't as territorial and they could be a lot more rational in their decision-making, some of them even acted like guardian spirits (some did become guardian spirits).

The third type was Vlad's haunt. He didn't feel attached enough to anything in the Real World to form anything there, so he had a haunt in the Infinite Realms, which he decided to move to guard the entrance to his portal — strategic, most ghosts wouldn't dare cross it in respect for his haunt.

Which type of haunt a ghost had told a lot about their personality. Vlad made a point to figure out where the haunt of every ghost he considered important was at, if only for information's sake.

He couldn't find Danny's haunt anywhere.

"It has got to be somewhere," Vlad said with a roll of his eyes as he floated around Skulker, following him around as he got ready for a hunt.

"It isn't," Skulker insisted, "I've been searching it for four years. If the whelp has one, I doubt even he knows it, because he hasn't been there."

"Every ghost has one, it's tied to our obsession—"

Skulker rolled his eyes, "I know."

Vlad huffed irritably, "Well? What's Phantom's obsession?"

"To be determined."

Vlad's mouth gaped for a few moments before he smirked, "Fancy way of saying you don't know."

"Nobody knows," Skulker added, "I thought that was obvious."

"He has to have one, he's a ghost."

"Yup."

"You're telling me you've been hunting him for four years without the most basic information about him?" Vlad had very little respect for most people, Skulker was one of that large group, but Vlad didn't think he could respect him less than he already did. "That's disappointing."

"Boo-hoo." Skulker looked at him with a deadpan expression, then sighed, "He's a halfa, not just a ghost. He might not have one yet."

"That is ridiculous!"

"Yeah?"

"I'm a halfa and I have one." Vlad said, "He can't have gone four years without one and still be as stable as he is. We both know most ghosts don't last more than a week without an obsession."

"He's not a normal ghost," Skulker said through his teeth, seemingly annoyed by having to say it. He probably was, saying something like that would be like an admission of weakness on his part. It was true, Phantom was not normal for a ghost — most ghosts didn't die by having a portal open up on them. "He's too… human. It makes him powerful."

Vlad rolled his eyes, "How could being human make anyone powerful?"

Skulker didn't answer, he just kept floating ahead, away from Vlad. After a few moments, he said, "His parents are hunters. I think you forget that."

Vlad let him wade away.

He did forget that. Somehow, he forgot that.

Forgetting was easier, he supposed. Remembering meant admitting to himself all the ways Jack and Maddie Fenton made him feel other. Inferior — never insignificant, there was no version of history in which being part ghost made him insignificant to them, that was the problem, they cared in all the wrong ways — he knew they didn't see him as inferior for his humanity, but he also knew he wasn't significant enough for them that they'd remember him in his absence.

Vlad liked to think their existence had no bearing on him, but moments like that made him wonder how much impact the Fentons actually had on his life. Moments like that forced him to admit that the Fentons' impact on his life had changed him fundamentally, almost as much as his DNA did after the accident.

Danny probably knew his identity by now, if he was half as smart as Vlad gave him credit (and Vlad rarely gave anyone that much credit). Still, he had yet to come after Vlad, to be the threat Vlad had estimated him to be. Now, he considered that he'd only thought of Danny — of Phantom — and his relationship with his parents in the level of threat he posed to Vlad.

Vlad was Jack's friend for a little more than half a decade, Maddie's for two years. After the accident happened, Vlad stopped talking to them and he never saw them again after they gave up on visiting him in the hospital.

Daniel was their son. They were his parents, he was a teen, probably fourteen or fifteen, when his accident happened; Daniel lived with his parents as a halfa for three or four years; he had been actively hunted by them in his ghost persona. If it changed Vlad, how much did it truly impact Danny?

Did he feel as lonely as Vlad did?

*

The bad part of Vlad Masters, the guy Danny's parents killed, being the boss of the boss of the boss of the boss of Danny's boss, was that Danny couldn't exactly curse him out for showing up to his workplace unannounced because said workplace belonged to Vlad.

"Mister Fenton, how wonderful is it to see you still here," Vlad was smiling in a charming way, it was almost as though he was actually happy to be there and didn't hate him by proxy of Danny's parents killing him.

"Yeah," Danny said, chuckling awkwardly. He hadn't heard Vlad enter the floor (which surely would've caused a commotion), let alone seen him enter Danny's cubicle. "Midterms are doing their best to knock me outta the game, though."

Vlad laughed lightly, "Oh, I'm sure you've nothing to worry about, a bright boy such as yourself." His smile never wavered, "How have your parents been?"

Danny licked his lips, there it is, "They're fine. I haven't talked to them much lately."

Vlad's eyebrows raised for a fraction, "Midterms?"

"Sure," Danny said dismissively. "Were you just passing through? Had a meeting?"

"I had a meeting," Vlad said, eyeing the office cubicle contemplatively. "I thought I'd pay a visit. I usually visit this branch quite a lot, however, since my main place of residence is just outside the city."

"Yeah?"

"Of course," Vlad affirmed with a flourish of his wrist. "Perhaps you'll pay me a visit sometime this week. Does tomorrow work for you?"

Danny blinked, it made sense, Vlad probably didn't want to hash out his second existence out in public. "Uh, tomorrow doesn't work, actually."

Vlad raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "Really?"

"Yeah, someone from high school is in the city this week and I said I'd show 'em around tomorrow." Although he was tempted to use this as an excuse to cancel. Getting killed in a mansion in the middle of nowhere by the guy his parents killed seemed like a more attractive prospect now. "Sunday works, though."

Vlad nodded simply, "Sunday, then," he said as he made his way out of the cubicle, "I'll send a car at noon." Danny nodded, even though Vlad was already walking out and not looking in his direction.

A few minutes after Vlad was out of sight, Hazel walked in, wide eyed. "Why is Vlad Masters inviting you to his place?" She whisper-shouted, kneeling next to his chair so she could look in his eyes. "Are you having an affair with him?"

Danny's face scrunched up in disgust, "Ew, no. He was friends with my parents, like twenty years ago."

Hazel gasped slowly, taking in air as she did so, "Oh my god, you're a nepo baby!"

Danny laughed, "Me getting a job here was completely random, I didn't even know any of this until the party."

"I don't care," she said as she waved dismissively, "You got me a crazy good promotion, keep them coming."

"I didn't, you got that all on your own."

She rolled her eyes, "You never mentioned you're a nepo baby."

"I'm not," Danny said as he moved his chair and pulled the small, foldable, chair he kept under his desk for when Hazel came around. She sat down. "He was my dad's roommate in college, they stopped talking before they even finished college. He probably just wants to ask about them."

"He already did."

"Huh?"

She nodded, "He asked about your parents. Just a few minutes ago. He wanted to talk to you in private," Hazel made a face, "Are you sure he hasn't got the hots for you?"

"Yes."

She eyed him distrustingly for a few moments before her face relaxed and her voice lowered in volume more than it already was, "What about the friend from out of town?"

Danny bit his lip, "Not a friend."

Hazel wiggled her eyebrows, "More than a friend?"

"No," he said, "But also yes." Hazel stared at him with something between judgment and confusion in her expression. "I got a situationship."

"That's very white of you." Ouch, but fair. "How did that happen?"

"He's a jock and in the closet."

"Yikes."

*

Sunday morning found Danny covered by nothing but bedsheets and the occasional arm or leg that hugged his body in the throes of slumber. Inside a hotel room that would he clean if not for his and Dash's clothes scattered around the bed.

Something was buzzing.

He looked to the side of the bed and the ground and found his phone was the source, hanging half off the pocket of his discarded pants. Danny reached forward and grabbed it — unknown number — he picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, Little Badger," the man on the other end of the line sounded too cheery for — Danny pulled his phone from his ear to check the time — eleven in the morning. "I was making arrangements for your car and I was wondering if I should send it to your university dorm or your current address?"

Oh, fuck, it was Sunday already. He forgot to set his alarm to make sure he got back to his dorm by noon.

How the fuck did Vlad know he wasn't in his dorm?

Beside him, there was a hum from Dash, Danny ignored it. "Are you stalking me?"

"Don't take it personally, I need to assure myself I am not inviting a Trojan Horse into my home." Vlad explained, "I also own the hotel you're in, so you made it quite an easy job for me."

"You're a jackass," Danny said grumpily.

Dash stirred beside him, "Who are you talking to?"

"I'll be in the dorm by noon," Danny informed him with a roll of his eyes. "I need to change anyway."

"I could always have the car take you from the hotel to your dorm," Vlad offered.

"No, I don't need people to think we're having an affair." Danny said.

"The public is a complicated beast," Vlad commented, "The car will be there at noon, then." He said and hung up.

"Who are you having an affair with?" Dash asked, scandalized, as he rubbed the sleep off his eyes.

Danny put his phone down, "You, asshole."

"We're not having an affair."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, you just fuck me in secret for… over a year now?" Danny said sardonically as he untangled himself from Dash and the bedsheets and grabbed his underwear. He sighed as he put it on, "Instead of admitting you're bisexual and actually dating me."

Dash made a noise of dissent, "Maybe I just don't wanna date you."

Danny grabbed his pants, "You're definitely in the closet." He said decisively as he zipped up his pants.

"Maybe just don't want to date you." Dash repeated slower, watching as Danny got dressed like he was just entertainment.

He grabbed his shirt, "Maybe you're just a terrible person," he pulled the shirt over his head and put his arms through the arm holes, "In addition to being in the closet."

Dash huffed, "You just can't handle the fact that I don't wanna be with you."

"No, what I can't handle is the fact that you could have any girl and most guys suck your dick, yet you keep coming back to ask me to do it for you." Danny said calmly as he left the bed to search for his sweater, farther away, one of the first items discarded after his coat. "I can't handle the fact that I let you."

"Because you're a loser."

"You want me to suck your dick because I'm a loser or I let you because I'm a loser?"

Dash stared at him for a whole minute without saying anything. "You're a loser."

"And you might be able to figure out your sexuality the day you figure out how to have a complete train of thought." Danny said harshly as he put his sweater on and picked up his coat and made sure his belongings were inside his pockets before he put his shoes on and headed for the door. "Don't call me again unless you figure that shit out."

If Dash had something to say, he either didn't say it, or he said it too late for Danny to hear.

He wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. Maybe he'd wanted to hear it once, held out for hope that all the mixed messages he was being sent would be unraveled once Dash said that extra something (which Danny wasn't even sure what he expected it to be), something that would make everything make sense. Some miraculous thing — because, given all the history between them, Dash saying anything emotionally mature seemed like a miracle — that made their relationship less complicated than it was.

Truthfully, Danny knew what all those actions said about Dash; he was in denial of himself and he probably felt more comfortable expressing it through the physicality he had with Danny because, in Dash's point of view, Danny's opinion of him didn't matter because Danny was a loser and an outcast.

Danny had rationalized it all the way, even going as far as talking to Jazz to make sure he was coming to the right conclusions, so he knew what Dash's actions said about him, but what did Danny's actions say about him? Did he truly feel so unloved and desperate that he would accept it wherever he found it, even if it was being Dash's secret. Or was it a result of his relationship with his parents?

Was it because he was half ghost? He knew ghosts communicated through fighting, even though he didn't fully understand how it worked. As he walked back to campus, he entertained the idea that he somehow interpreted Dash's hostility as, ancients forbid, affection, because his ghostly instincts spoke louder, but found the idea unlikely. He never interpreted Dash's actual violence as anything other than it was. In fact, they always got together when the violence melted away.

Jazz said once that some psychologists believed the way a person had romantic relationships usually reflected their relationship with their parents — his parents and Dash had a few things in common, now that he thought about it. Both antagonized one of his persona's while they felt positively toward the other. Both relationships involved one of the parties hiding some aspect of their identity, Danny hiding his ghostly side from both and Dash having his relationship with Danny most likely in order to continue to hide his sexuality from other people (and, now that he thought it through, his relationship with Valerie also had that aspect). And, with each day that passed, Danny believed more and more that both were horrible people.

At least Dash hasn't killed anyone, Danny thought as he got to campus, checking the time to see he had about ten minutes before the car arrived, which wasn't a lot, considering the campus was big and he had to get to his dorm, change, and then get to the parking area. He opened his room's door to find his roommate, Alex, inside, using his laptop on his bed, cross-legged as he drank some brand of energy drink that Danny thought was likely more hazardous than ectoplasm.

Danny greeted him as he rushed to get a change of clothes from the closet, taking his shoes and pants off and changed into a fresh pair of jeans — they decided it was pointless to try to keep that private after they'd already walked in on each other changing more times than they could count (with the addition of a few unfortunate incidents where Danny walked in on Alex having sex), since they'd pretty much seen all that could be seen.

"You spent the night out," Alex pointed out. Danny looked at his roommate for a moment to see he was smiling smugly. "I'm betting showing your person around the city was a… lucky thing?"

"My person," Danny repeated as he took out all his top layers and tossed them on his bed along with his jeans and started to put on a new shirt.

"Well, you didn't say what gender. And, does it really matter, when you're getting lucky? Luck is luck, my guy!" Alex was strangely progressive for a frat-boy wannabe horndog.

"I'd hardly say getting with Dash is ever a lucky endeavor for me ever…" Danny mumbled to himself as he tried to find the armholes on a cardigan he'd grabbed.

"So it's a guy?" Alex said, nodding as he put his laptop aside and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Gay or bi?"

"Queer," Danny declared decidedly as he shoved his arm into the cardigan, then grabbed the flannel he'd left on the bed the previous day as started to put it on. "It's easier than figuring out labels — which I really don't wanna do."

"Wise, wise," Danny soared Alex another look and saw his eyes were a little red. He was stoned, not news, made sense. "What's your problem with this Dash guy?"

Danny sat on the bed and grabbed another pair of shoes from under it, "He's a dick."

Alex nodded, "Is it a good dick though?"

Danny laughed as he put his socks on, "Sure." He shoved his feet inside the shoes and started to tie them. "Problem is who it's attached to." Danny grabbed the coat he'd been using before from the bed and got up, checking his phone. "I'd love to stay here and chat about the discovery of my pathetic sexual life, but I have two minutes to be in the parking lot."

"Another date? This Dash fella is clearly not that good, then."

Danny pursed his lips as he walked toward the door and opened it again, "Not a date, I'm meeting with a family friend."

"A'ight," Alex said, grabbing his laptop and returning to his previous activities as Danny closed the door and rushed out of the dorm building and to the parking lot.

It didn't take long for Danny to find the ride Vlad sent and get in, sending his live location in a group chat with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, who immediately questioned why he decided to go through with meeting with Vlad. Danny knew it was dangerous, the worst kind — the unknown kind of danger — but he needed to do it, even if it was just to try to apologize on behalf of his parents for what they did.

As the car later pulled up by Vlad's house — which just so happened to be a freaking castle, which was not at all over the top (note the sarcasm) — Danny was shocked to find that twenty minutes had passed. He'd been so lost in thought, watching the greenery pass by, he didn't even feel time pass.

No later had Danny stepped out of the car, Vlad was already outside, playing the graceful host and guiding him inside as he asked about his day. Thankfully, Vlad was kind enough not to mention anything regarding their call. Danny knew he was quite transparent when it came to his emotions and he knew Vlad would likely know everything about the situation as soon as Danny did any sort of elaboration on why he spent the night at a hotel with somebody.

Danny sat down at a table that was too large for two people as Vlad made the move of sitting at the opposite side, then ordered the staff to put lunch on the table. As soon as the staff left, Danny's eyes locked on Vlad, who was already moving to serve himself. "I think we should drop the pretense."

Vlad smirked lightly as he raised an eyebrow, never stopping the action of putting food on his plate. "I do so love pretenses."

Danny made a face, "Why?"

Vlad finished putting food on his plate with no hurry, settling more comfortably in his seat after he did, "Humor me, Danny. I seem to have difficulty finding company that satisfies my mental capabilities." He said as he cut into the meat on his plate.

"Is that just a fancy way to say that you think other people are stupid?"

"So it seems," Vlad took a piece of pork with his fork and carefully placed it into his mouth and ate it.

Danny took a deep breath, "I'm hardly average smart, Mister Masters." He said, voice strained as he contemplated how much of an asshole Vlad was that he'd make Danny be the one to break the pretense Vlad was setting up. Maybe pretenses were safer for Vlad, who was used to dealing with an elite who thrived on it, but pretenses were nerve-wracking for Danny — all the skirting around the truth made him feel like he was prey walking into a trap. "I doubt I'll be satisfying company if that's what you expect from me."

Vlad regarded him with a look as he calmly chewed and Danny wondered how his interactions with his parents were back in the day. Was Vlad always this attached to pretense or did it come up overtime after his accident? His dad completely ignored pretenses and his mom played into whatever pretense served her best at the moment, so she was only actually pretending a very small amount of time. How did the three mix? "And yet you're still doing better than the average person."

"Do you view pretense as a form of confrontation?" The words left his mouth before Danny could think them through. Vlad raised an eyebrow as he carefully put his form down. Danny decided he would just speak as he thought, because there was no way he would be able to come back from that one if he overthought it. "Verbal confrontation where you get to hide information or claim plausible deniability. It's very strategic, perfect for a ghost living among humans."

Vlad placed his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers in front of the lower half of his face. "What would you possibly know about this, Danny? You're the ghost hunters' son, after all, ghosts would be delighted to be far away from you, I'd wager."

Danny realized then that this was as good as a ghost fight to Vlad (and to himself). Verbal confrontation was a form of fighting for Vlad, Danny had no doubt about it, what he didn't know was why Vlad was on the defensive. "I asked my dad about you, he told me about your accident." Vlad stayed quiet, "You're a halfa because of that, because of them. I'm sorry for that."

"You weren't there."

Vlad avoided Danny's gaze, but he could see an anger boiling under the surface, and uneasiness under every tiny twitch of the muscles around his eyes.

"No." He said slowly, "But I'm here, right now, and somebody should apologize to you."

Vlad scoffed as he dropped his hands from where they covered a frown, "If your parents are so forthcoming to you, they should have no problem doing it themselves."

Danny felt his brow furrow in confusion, "What—"

"If they know, and they told you, why aren't they here?" Vlad inquired and Danny's face dropped.

"They don't know."

"What?" Vlad's voice was clipped.

"My parents don't know," Danny said more clearly, "They don't know halfas exist."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, too long a moment.

Vlad blinked, "You've been living under your parents' roof as a halfa for five years and they don't know you're a halfa?"

Danny made a face, "Why would they know I'm a halfa?"

"Well, I figured," Vlad faltered, "How could you possibly live with them as one and they wouldn't?"

"Why would I tell them?" He asked him incredulously, "I mean, I thought about it, but that was back when I was fourteen."

Vlad took a deep breath, "You mean to tell me that, with all your talk that your parents aren't abusive, you never felt safe enough to tell them?"

"We already had this conversation, did none of it sink into your skull?" Danny asked, now annoyed. "It'll shock you to hear this, but my parents did teach me common sense, and I'm not insane!"

"How could your parents teach you common sense when they have none themselves?!" Vlad asked incredulously.

"I—that's basic survival skills! Like… like, if you hear a skin walker in the woods, you book it, or that you don't swallow sporks!"

Vlad stared at him for a short moment. "That's oddly specific."

"Eating under pressure makes me anxious."

Vlad looked confused, "That has something to do with spork eating?"

"Yes." Danny said, but didn't elaborate, because he shouldn't go around advertising that he ate a sporks on accident once because he was eating under pressure and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. "And it's not the point."

"I've yet to grasp the point."

Danny paused, "I don't know how we got here either." He admitted.

Vlad cleared his throat, "Well, I, however reluctantly, admit that this conversation has been the most entertaining one I've had in a while."

"ADHD will do that to you."

"I don't have ADHD."

"No, but I do." Danny explained, laughing to himself. "The point was my parents don't know and that's why I'm apologizing on their behalf."

Vlad nodded.

The calmness of the moment that followed almost made Danny laugh out loud at how ridiculously this conversation had gone down, but he didn't laugh. He would've, if the silence had been awkward, but the silence was peaceful — a rich feeling, since Danny couldn't remember the last time he felt at peace — it was comfortable, even.

Danny knew the peace wasn't just his, but he didn't know how he had that feeling.

*

GHOSTBOI:

hey guys

i have a godfather now

CHAOS:

WDYM

FRYER TUCK:

h e l l o ? ? ?

GHOSTBOI:

thats p much it

JAZZZZZ:

I'm guessing it's Vlad, but I need more context.

GHOSTBOI:

he decided he's my godfather

i called mom and she said "ok"

JAZZZZZ:

I highly doubt she said just "okay".

GHOSTBOI:

thats the gist of it

she said "sweetie" a few times too

JAZZZZZ:

…

She does say "sweetie" a lot.

Are you sure this is a good idea?

CHAOS:

yeah, you barely know this guy

GHOSTBOI:

we discussed it for like two hours

FRYER TUCK:

Discussed what»

?

GHOSTBOI:

what him being my godfather would entail

it felt a bit like talking to clockwork

shoukd i introduce them

?

FRYER TUCK:

I'm p sure u told me that most ghosts don't like this guy

CHAOS:

and that he's Spectra's buddy

FRYER TUCK:

That he's ruthless and powerful too

GHOSTBOI:

they also say I'M ruthless and powerful

FRYER TUCK:

*Overpowered

GHOSTBOI:

fuck you

*

Danny thought he'd feel heavy. He thought trying to approach his relationship with Vlad with a heavy hand of caution would be a weight on his shoulders — after all, that was all the caution regarding his parents and his identity granted him — but it wasn't. It didn't feel like pressure or like pulling teeth. It wasn't even half as hard as he thought it would be to intentionally put Vlad at arms' length.

It probably helped that Vlad was doing the same. Establishing boundaries, erecting a wall, except they both knew there was a door that would be opened eventually. He knew it was just as hard, if not harder, for Vlad to be forthcoming about things; they'd been lying and omitting for a long time, but his time was nowhere near equal to Vlad's.

They decided on meeting in person once every fortnight and to communicate through call or message once per week. A steady rhythm, building a solid foundation, making sure they actually knew each other as people — the only ones of their kind; birds or a feather should stick together, but Danny preferred (and Vlad agreed) that it not be in enmity.

Even after a few months, the awkward questions still came up.

"You've never mentioned your haunt."

"My haunt?"

"Yes, I showed you mine last month. It is in the realms, near my portal, you may recall." Vlad looked to him for confirmation and Danny nodded, "I realized you never mentioned it, so I thought I'd ask."

"I don't think I have one."

Vlad frowned, "Every ghost has one, it is tied to your obsession. Something you feel strongly drawn to."

Danny shrugged, "I have an obsession, it just doesn't draw me anywhere."

"Even in the Infinite Realms?" Vlad questioned, "Is there no place in the realms that you felt instinctively drawn to? Like if you were dropped anywhere in the realms, you could always find it?"

Danny shrugged again and made a face, "I've always been pretty good at finding my way around the zone, I never noticed any of that." He said as he wondered if there was any insurance he was forgetting, "I guess I've always found Clockwork's haunt easily, but I don't think my haunt can be the same as another ghost's."

Vlad's brow furrowed, "Outside the realms, it's not unheard of… in the Infinite Realms, usually ghosts might have their haunts really close to one another, unless they knew each other in life…" He trailed off and turned to Danny, "Who is Clockwork, exactly?"

"Time ghost."

"Of clocks? Or is it the passage of time?"

Danny shook his head from side to side, "No, he's the ancient of time."

*

Vlad leaned in closer, because that was something very interesting for Danny to be saying. Especially considering that most ghosts he knew thought Clockwork and the ancients to be more of a myth than truth, the ghost equivalent of an urban legend even. Although, out of everyone Vlad knew, he supposed it wasn't so far fetched that Danny would know an ancient. Vlad knew Danny walked around with the Greeks, hung out and sparred with Pandora herself; knowing an ancient wasn't too far a jump from that. "How, pray tell, do you know the ancient of time?"

Danny shrugged, “Evil alternate self."

Vlad blinked. Did he understand, on a fundamental level of television references, what an alternate evil self was? Yes. What he didn't understand was how Danny managed to find time to have one between living as a ghost under the roof of ghost hunters (who happened to be Danny's parents), being a vigilante, attending high school, attending college, and getting an internship. And how he managed to do all of that and still have friends and a situashionship.

That had been a fun little tidbit to unpack. Which led to them visiting Clockwork. Vlad was unprepared for that visit, thoroughly unprepared and ill advised.

See, Danny was much more difficult to predict than Vlad had gauged initially because Danny acted as though he was a normal, happy child and he was very transparent with his emotions, to a point where Vlad wondered how he'd ever managed to hide his alter ego from his parents. Vlad wouldn't have ever imagined this boy hung out with Pandora herself casually, or that he was insanely overpowered. How could Vlad had known the teenager he took in as a godson was the apprentice of the LORD OF TIME HIMSELF? Or that Danny was soon to be ancient of space and that sewing was, in fact, not a hobby of his and was, in truth, him sewing up the fabric of space because he was to become THE ANCIENT OF SPACE in this timeline?

All in all, Vlad knew that wouldn't deter him from attempting to parent the kid — lord knew the boy's own parents were incompetent at it, just as they were in various aspects of their lives — but it was interesting to note that the kid (young adult, really) he picked to parent was the one who was most likely to give him a stress ulcer in the entire world.

What was another medical condition when one was already dead, really? Counting Vlad's, luck, this was a pretty good hand to be dealt.