Chapter Text
It was cold. The cold, he could handle. He liked the cold much more than heat. But it was wrong - his room wasn't usually this cold, and it certainly didn't typically carry such a nice breeze through it.
His eyes opened, heart racing as he realized the reason he could feel the wind in his bedroom was because he was actually outside, miles from home, on the rooftop of the observatory tower.
And the sky was black, the stars visible and the half-moon bright. Shit.
"Shit," Danny fumbled to a standing position, shaking with nerves as he recalled the events that led him to this situation.
There was school - a fight at school, a ghost fight. Yes. And he'd hurt himself, his stomach - Danny checked his stomach, relaxed when he found it was void of any major injuries. Just bruised.
He flew out here to heal. And he really didn't get that much sleep the night before, and he was exhausted. He must have accidentally fallen asleep, which was bad enough on its own, but he'd be alright if he could just get home before —
His pocket vibrated. His phone was ringing.
"Shit!" Danny cursed again as 'Mom' shined bright on his screen.
He stared at it, willing it go away because he was not ready at all to come up with a believable lie so soon after waking up. It felt like an eternity before the call ended.
Once he could see his normal phone screen, Danny could see that he had fifty-two missed calls, most from his mom and some from his dad and even a few from his sister.
Oh, shit.
The screen lit up again.
Danny steeled himself before answering it.
"...Mom, I - "
"DANIEL FENTON!"
Danny cringed from the volume, holding it away from his ears as she screamed over the phone.
"Tell me where you are RIGHT NOW. And don't you dare lie to me. Don't you DARE lie!"
Danny looked at his surroundings, but it was only the observatory. And trees. So many trees.
"Uh..." He said, eloquently. "I'm, um, with — "
"Don't say you're with Sam or with Tucker. I've already spoken with both them and their parents," Her voice lost some of its steam, and he heard her sniffle. Guilt struck him, nearly bringing tears to his eyes, too. He didn't mean to make her cry. "Please, Danny, just please tell me where you are. We can come get you."
But Danny could not tell her where he was. He was on the roof of a building miles outside of Amity Park. How could he explain that? He wasn't that good of a liar, despite his two years of experience. He couldn't come up with anything that could explain why he wasn't home at — Danny checked the time on his phone, and his stomach flipped when he saw 2:15, oh, damn, Fenton, you really screwed up this time.
"Danny?" Her voice held a sob in it. "Danny, are you okay?"
"Yes," Danny could at least give her that. That wasn't a lie.
"Where are you? Please, baby, tell me. You won't be in trouble, I just - I need to know you're safe."
Yeah, right. He would be grounded for eternity for this.
"I am. I'm safe, I just - I'm - I," He peeled the phone away from his face to catch his breath. This was so bad. "...I'm sorry. I'm almost home. I'm - I'm so sorry."
Frantic, worried protests spilled from his speaker, but he ended the call. The silence was staggering.
Danny took a shaky breath as he transformed. No longer confined to gravity, it was a little easier to breathe. He flew towards Amity Park, wrestling with his brain. What could he say? What would they even believe?
He wouldn't drag Sam or Tucker into it. They already did too much for him, and he couldn't ask them to take any of the blame for his own stupidity. No, this was all on him.
...He could always tell them the truth, too.
Danny imagined that conversation.
Sorry, Mom, Dad, I fell asleep at the old observatory center. Yes, I know that's far, but I can fly because I'm half-ghost, so it really isn't that big of a deal for me. You still love me, right?
No. He wasn't that desperate.
The lights from Amity Park glowed brighter and brighter, and it was beginning to dawn on him that time for finding a good enough excuse was running low.
Danny could see the giant, obnoxious FentonWorks sign atop his home. And, he noticed as he quickly went invisible, his parents were both standing outside, waiting. He ducked into an alley and cast a quick glance around before transforming back into his human form.
He wracked his brain for possible excuses but kept drawing blanks. Maybe he should play the amnesia card. Or that he'd accidentally gotten locked up at school when Dash slammed him into his locker, and the janitor only just now found him. But, no, he had his phone on him, so he could've called someone at any time - ugh.
He could see his parents' expression from where he stood. His father wore a face of healthy, parental concern, but his mother appeared to be falling apart. He could hear her crying, see her shoulders shaking. If there was ever a trophy for being the worst son to have ever lived, Danny felt that he would win it.
Danny didn't want her to be sad any longer. Without an excuse, he left the alley.
A dumpster rattled behind him.
He jumped slightly at the abrupt noise, turning around to find a gentle glow coming from beneath the plastic lid of one of the three dumpsters. As if on cue, Danny's ghost sense went off.
His parents could wait a couple minutes longer. He had to make sure the ghost, whatever it was, wasn't any threat. Danny went to lift the lid and relaxed slightly when he found a ghost cat.
He gave the creature a small, sad smile. Animal ghosts often appealed to his empathetic side. "You'll be good, right?"
The striped, glowing green cat looked up at him. Danny raised an eyebrow, waiting. Suddenly, its slitted eyes flooded with red, and in a matter of seconds, the cat grew to be the size of a lion.
Okay, so the cat wasn't going to be good. Got it, great, just one more thing he had to deal with that night.
Danny jumped back with a surprised shout. He felt something fly out of his pocket, then heard a hard smack on the pavement. He instantly knew it was his phone, likely cracked into several pieces which was just the cherry on top of an already terrible night, but he had bigger, hairier things to worry about.
To make matters somehow even worse, he realized all too late that he didn't have his thermos on him. He'd left it at the observatory. Great. Great.
He transformed back into his ghost form just as the lion jumped at him, swiping with its claws as long and sharp as steak knives. Danny flew up, delighted when the lion didn't follow him into the sky. It remained entirely on the ground, which gave him quite the advantage.
He fired ectoblast after ectoblast, hoping to tire it out until he could get back to his room and grab his spare thermos.
"Did you see that, Maddie?!"
Danny had somehow forgotten about his parents. And he was not in the mood. He hoped their concern for their missing son would override their excitement for ghost hunting.
Quickly, he turned invisible - if they wanted to hunt a ghost, it wouldn't be him. The last thing he wanted was to be chased all night. He still had school in a little less than six hours.
His parents rounded the corner, as he knew they would. Ghost hunting apparently does come before finding your son who never came home. That was good to know.
Maintaining his invisibility, he watched his father run down the streets, firing his weapon of the week at the lion who was fleeing in the opposite direction.
Danny ducked back into the alley, annoyed but not in the slightest bit surprised. He was sure his mom had gone with his dad, no longer worried about his wellbeing, either.
He rolled his eyes, willing the transformation.
Suddenly, before the rings could travel across his body, something bit him on the back of his shoulder. Danny flinched, biting back an annoyed growl. He slapped the area, expecting to hit some sort of bug when his hand came into contact with something cold, small, and metal.
Danny pulled it out of his skin, and his stomach plummeted. The dart fell from his fingers, clattering and rolling across the concrete below. When he looked up, his mother was lowering a gun with a sick, sadistic grin.
Their eyes met.
It didn't matter how far he ran, or how fast he could fly. The number of people he saved, over and over. That just wasn't enough, was it? Nothing would be enough, would it?
For anyone?
At least - no, especially not for her.
"Phantom," His mother sneered, stalking towards him. She took one step forward, he took one step back.
He tried to fly, but his body only carried a few feet off the ground before he tumbled back to earth. Danny tried to turn invisible, but he only managed to flicker his hands in and out of existence.
One step forward, one step back.
Danny tried to go intangible, let his feet dip into the ground, but his boots stayed solid on the pavement.
She pulled out a different weapon, one he'd seen her working on in the kitchen just that morning. He didn't remember what it was called, and he cursed himself. He was supposed to know these things, he was supposed to be prepared.
Danny tried to call upon the transformation - not that he would transform, of course. No, he just had to know if it was an option in case things got...worse.
She laughed at his weakness. Danny glared at her, hating how easily her worry for her still missing son could just leave at the sight of a ghost.
No, not just any ghost.
The ghost. The one she was most passionate about one day capturing, experimenting on, ripping apart. Her eyes always gleamed with unmasked hatred and sick interest every time Phantom was mentioned in their house. He was at the top of her list of ghosts she wanted to rid the earth of — after she'd sliced him open, of course.
She backed him up against the wall.
It didn't matter how hard he tried. It was always going to end like this. Him, cornered.
Cornered in his room, caught in the web of lies he'd spun for himself. Lying to his father, who probably did actually care, in his own way. Lying to his mother, who cared arguably too much.
Please, Danny, tell me what's wrong, why don't you tell me anything anymore, Danny? You know I love you, Danny, so much, you're my baby boy, I'll always love you —
Or.
Cornered here, unable to fly, turn invisible, walk through the walls that trapped him in the alley. Her, gun in hand, raised, her, smiling and bloodthirsty as she stepped closer. Him, unable to turn back into her son, no way, no way out of this without —
"Finally," She whispered, barely audible over the noise of her gun whirring, but Danny heard it anyway. And he wished his dad was there, so he could screw something up. If his dad was there, Danny could get away. His mother was not nearly as careless.
Her finger pulled the trigger, and Danny saw the light, the energy coming for him, barely any time to brace himself —
It bounced off his shoulder, throwing him into the brick wall behind him. His head cracked rather loudly against it, and for a moment, he didn't see anything at all. Just darkness. Then, the orange glow of her goggles, the vague shape of her figure as she came even closer.
His mother was demented.
"You missed," He rose to his feet, unsteady and near ready to fall over again. Green, glowing liquid trickled from his nose into his mouth, and he spit a mouthful of it on the ground. "My head's a little more to the right. You should keep working on your aim."
"It worked," His mother laughed, laughed at his bleeding and his lack of defenses, and all Danny could think was, this woman made him soup two nights ago because he wasn't feeling great, and it'd worked. He had felt better afterwards. He'd said thanks, Mom, and she had smiled lovingly, ruffled his hair as she replied, you're welcome, sweetie!
The whiplash from her hatred was dizzying. Yes, she really hated him, didn't she? Of course she did. He was a ghost, and she hated ghosts.
He was her son, too.
But not right then.
"You're fucked in the head, lady," This wasn't his mother, and he would talk to her with as much disrespect as he pleased. She just shot him, after all. And he was still bleeding. Dripping onto the pavement, and he was getting very, very tired, too tired, but he had to keep standing. He had to.
Danny saw spots dancing in his vision. Why wasn't he healing? Oh, right — nothing was working at the moment. Whatever had been in that dart was very effective. Of course, she had to be thorough. Had to make sure her perfect prey couldn't fight back or get away this time.
He couldn't stand any longer. He didn't know if it was the blood leaking from the back of his head, or from his shoulder, or from the dart, but his muscles had gone numb.
Through his hazy sight, he could see that she had descended entirely upon him, she was right there, right in front of him.
It took all his strength to hold himself upright by his arms. Quickly, though, not even that was enough. Whatever was in that dart had thoroughly paralyzed him.
Her hands seized his hair, no doubt pulling some strands out from the force, and he snarled, gritting his teeth at the invasive, degrading action. She held his head up as if he were a trophy.
Danny tried to jerk his hair out of her grip, but his neck muscles didn't respond. Now, even with his blurry vision, he could see the thermos being pulled from her utility belt.
This would be a really bad time to tell her he was her son, right?
Would she even care?
He wanted to say so much. Tell her she had something seriously wrong with her. Ask her why she was enjoying this so much. Maybe inform her that he was her 'baby boy' that she supposedly cherished before this escalated any further.
But all he could manage was glaring up at her sickeningly satisfied face with green, glowing eyes that looked nothing like the ones she loved. He was not her sweet, precious Danny.
He was just a ghost.
The cap opened, and the thermos swallowed him whole.
*
Maddie allowed herself a moment of celebration before remembering the reason she was out there in the first place.
"Danny?" She called out to the empty streets, remembering how he'd said he was almost home, and that was, what, over twenty minutes ago? So, maybe his definition of 'almost home' was different than hers. Maybe he was just a little further away than he’d originally thought.
Maddie felt her panic building again. "Danny!" She called out one more time, running back to the front of FentonWorks. If Danny was coming home, he'd have to walk in through the front door.
She couldn't fight off the tears. Despite her accomplishment that night, her fear for her son was overwhelming any sort of happiness she'd momentarily felt.
Jack appeared minutes later, a forlorn look on his face that always meant a ghost got away. "No Danny?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
Maddie frowned, tears finally spilling from her eyes. "Where is he, Jack? He should be here by now. He said he was almost home."
"He said he was safe," Jack tried to console her. "I don't think he was lying."
But they both knew that there was a very good chance Jack was wrong. Their son was a chronic liar. It was a fact of life that Maddie could not for the life of her understand. They'd raised him to be honest, respectful. And hadn't she made it abundantly clear he could tell her anything, anything at all, and she'd love him all the same?
They lingered outside their front door well past four in the morning, waiting for their son to return.