Chapter Text
He should've known. He should have known that his parents would have never accepted him. But Danny hoped and dreamed so badly that they would look past their prejudice and actually see him and not just his ghost half.
Tears pricked his eyes as he grit his teeth through another wave of pain. The gaping wound in his side told the truth. He would always be the ghost that took their son's place, because that was easier to accept than the fact they'd half-killed their precious little boy and not even noticed.
Danny barely had the strength to open a portal to the Ghost Zone. Even with the increase in powers since defeating Pariah Dark, ripping a hole through reality still took most of his strength and energy. As he tumbled through it, he prayed that he would land somewhere safe. He didn't have the power to clearly picture a specific destination—just the faint, almost unfamiliar feeling of safety. Anywhere was better than his own home, than his own haunt.
As the portal closed behind him, Danny felt a familiar chill and thought he saw snow just as his vision went dark.
————
Frostbite barely glimpsed the flickering portal opening above the Far Frozen before a familiar white-haired teen tumbled out of it.
"Great One!" he shouted as Danny Phantom crash landed into a snowbank just outside the village proper.
The yeti parted to let their chief pass unhindered. Concern and fear for Phantom's wellbeing drifted heavily through the air like fog. The Great One often admitted how much he loved their home and wished that the portal to his haunt was closer. But because of the distance, social calls were rare. More often than not, the Far Frozen had become a place of healing—a last resort kind of safe haven for the halfa when he had nowhere else to go.
Frostbite waved a signal without looking back, trusting his medical team to prepare for the Great One's arrival and immediate treatment. The snow that normally flurried nonstop had ceased, and never had he been so grateful for the boy's dark suit as he spotted him half-buried in a snowbank.
The relief quickly morphed into horror at the rapid spread of green bleeding through the white backdrop. Hyperaware of his claws, Frostbite gingerly lifted Phantom into his arms, absently noting how the boy curled closer to him without waking, even as his face scrunched in pain. A soft hum from the yeti's core, and the halfa relaxed instantly—just like a Neverborn child would.
Frostbite's mind whirled as he carefully trekked back to the village. When did reports of the Great One's exploits first reach the Far Frozen? He'd heard rumors of a new, odd ghost in the Barren Wastes near Skulker's Island just under a year ago. But at the time he'd dismissed them as idle gossip.
Now he realized just how young Phantom truly was for a ghost. And he'd already accomplished so much in his short half-life.
The yeti denizens gathered as their chief reentered the village with an injured Phantom in his arms, but they wisely stayed out of his path. However, the noise, especially when they entered the medical caves, caused the halfa to stir.
"Fr-Frostbite?"
"Great One," he rumbled, trying to keep his voice as low and calm as possible.
The teen gave a tiny smirk. "S'rry about dropping in on you like this."
The chief resisted the deep-boned sigh at the pun, hoping the humor was a sign everything would be all right as he laid Phantom down on an observation table. Nurses immediately went to work connecting the necessary machines to read his vitals—core health, ectoplasm levels—before they paused to assess the gaping wound in the teen's side.
"I'm going to have to remove the top part of your suit, Great One," Mureya, one of the more levelheaded, no-nonsense yeti nurses, said, "The anesthetic should kick in soon."
"Finally, I c'n get a real nap."
Already, tan eyelids began to close over glowing green eyes. They had maybe seconds before the boy would be out like a light.
"Great One," Frostbite said, "before you rest, please, who did this to you?"
A tear slid down Phantom's face, and Frostbite's core ached.
"They said they'd always love me...They lied."
"Who, Great One?"
Mureya looked up at her chief. "Should we really be pressing—?"
He held up a hand as Phantom mumbled a single phrase.
"My parents."