Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, unsurprisingly.

Author's Note(s): 1) I totally did not just write a story completely separate story from the one I've been working on for almost 3 years and don't update except every 3 months. I can only apologize. 2) Special "THANK YOU!" to my amazing Beta, FandomlyCroft. I cannot believe they put up with me. 3) This is a gift fic for my favorite Danny Phantom blog, danielmasters on Tumblr. :)

Trigger Warnings: internalized transphobia (very vaguely); slight dysphoria

Sam wasn't entirely sure when it started – maybe things had always been this way, and they just hadn't noticed? Or maybe it was a more recent development? Either way, Sam didn't really care – the most important thing is to be true to oneself. Sam felt like this was their motto, and they stood by it every day. Despite the insults and attacks, and Sam's parents' constant disapproval, Sam continued to dress in goth clothing, and continued to hang out with the Ghost Kid.

Though Sam knew him by a different name: Danny Fenton. Danny was, well, damn near everything to Sam. He was a friend and confidante, and, though Sam was loathe to admit it out loud, probably the love of Sam's life. It sounded stupid and immature – they were all still only teenagers! But Sam was always true to who they were, and if everything they felt said, "I love this man," then love him they did.

But recently, there had been something of a hiccup on that front. After all of the bullshit surrounding the whole meteorite incident, it seemed like Danny and Sam were finally going to get together, to be happy together. And then... the gender issue came up. Sam was used to feeling different, but not like this.

Maybe it was because, after all that stress, there was finally time to reflect, and a brief period of peace. For Sam, this time of quiet was enough to allow thoughts that had been niggling under the surface to finally make themselves known in full force.

I don't want to wear this stupid skirt today.

I wish this shirt didn't show off my boobs as much as it does.

Honestly, why do I even have these things?!

That one was the kicker. Slowly but surely, Sam began to realize what was going on. They started wearing pants more often, and even abandoned the crop-top some days, to the incredulous gazes and comments of Tucker and Danny. The day Sam's first binder arrived, they almost cried.

But it wasn't easy, not at all. They didn't dare tell anyone about this part of themselves, out of fear of rejection. It was quite strange, really, and extremely alienating; for years now, Sam had always had Danny and Tucker, but now they felt alone. After all, they seemed a little weirded out even by the smaller changes in Sam's style – what the Hell would they say if Sam told them that they were… what exactly?

It took a long time to sort it out – at first, Sam had wondered if they were transgender, if they were actually a man. But somehow… that just hadn't seemed right. The words "woman" and "girl," accompanied by the dreaded "she/her/hers" pronouns, made Sam feel queasy. But "man" and "he/him/his" didn't seem right, either. There were days when Sam happily hid away in their room with their binder, tripp pants and a heavy leather jacket. But also, there were days when they would decide, as they were getting ready for school, that they would pull on fishnet stockings and fucking 4-inch heels, because why the Hell not? So Sam did research, dug around online. They read through pages and pages of informational sites and chat room logs. As they read, they found the solution – Sam was genderqueer. They kept reading, and felt validated – they were not alone.

So they tried things out, and took it day by day. They started referring to themselves with "they/them/theirs" pronouns, and found that they liked it, a lot. They bought clothes from the "guys' section" in stores. Slowly, Sam became more and more comfortable in their gender identity, and if felt like freedom.

…Well, of a sort. Shearing their hair into a more gender-neutral undercut style felt great… until Danny and Tucker were surprised. And that's what it always came down to: Sam was changing, and they couldn't tell their closest friends why. They could tell Tucker and Danny were curious, if not concerned, but explaining the changes to Sam's outward appearance would mean explaining the changes in Sam's understanding of their own person, and that was a pretty terrifying prospect.

When considering the question of what to do more rationally, Sam supposed that the two probably wouldn't really care. They'd all been friends forever, and weren't exactly unused to keeping secrets. They always had each other's backs when it came to facing down ghosts or schoolyard bullies alike. Why should things be any different here?

Except it was different. All of their shared secrets were shared. It wasn't like Danny had hidden his ghost powers from them for years before finally admitting the truth. They had all grown up together, and so just happened to know basically everything about each other. More importantly, while Danny and Tucker may be more liberal people (as far as Sam could tell), society at large was not. Admitting the undeniable truth to anyone was a terrifying prospect, and the thought of "what if they were wrong, what if Danny and Tucker told everyone," kept Sam up at night. Even worse, what if Sam's parents found out somehow? They may have grudgingly dealt with Sam's style in exchange for their grades, but Sam wasn't so sure this would be as easy for them to accept. Even their dear old Granny – what if Granny's age made it impossible for her to understand what Sam was experiencing?

So they continued hiding the truth. During long weekends, Sam would skip town, giving some bullshit excuse to their friends. They lied about where they went, and why, but the big cities had become Sam's life. When Sam was feeling particularly dysphoric, they would go the LGBTQ nightclubs, and hang out with people like them, chest bound, hair styled, sporting the new snakebites their parents so disapproved of.

These weekends were like a breath of clear air, but they didn't clear the smog. The secret constantly weighed on Sam's shoulders; they wanted their friends to know, they wanted their boyfriend to know. But as the weeks and months passed, Sam started wondering if that term even applied anymore. Sure, they hung out with Danny, but Sam was rarely home on weekends for any real fun. And as Sam's awareness of their emotions and discomforts increased, the times when Sam just didn't want to have sex because they were not a girl increased as well. Danny could clearly sense the change, and asked if she was alright – and they reacted by stonewalling, by pushing him away with an "Everything's fine."

Sam really should have known it wouldn't last. After all, Danny's enemies were many, and they weren't exactly human. They had powers and abilities, could change the very fabric of reality. And every single one of them seemed to enjoy messing with the Phantom.

Monday morning was a rude awakening after another weekend of partying. Fortunately, it passed relatively without incident. No monsters crashed through the halls, no students started screaming; it was just normal. At lunch, however…

Everything happened in a blur. One moment, Sam was sitting at the table, minding their own business as they talked and ate with Danny and Tucker; and the next, they had been flattened to the ground as Danny dove towards the ground, shoving them both to safety. He pulled Sam under the table, and they heard the tell-tale yell:

"I'm going ghost!"

Sam watched as, within moments, Danny sucked a ghost-shell out of the rampaging football player. Slowly, they got out from under the table and made their way through the wreckage.

"You might want to go now," they laughed, eyebrow raised.

"Ah, right," Danny smiled back, throwing the thermos at Sam as he phased through the floor, "See you later!"

Later, of course, meant right after school.

"That was definitely Desiree – she's the only ghost we know who does the whole ghost-shell thing," Danny stated matter-of-factly as Tucker nodded.

"Definitely, dude. But where's she hiding?"

"No idea – we'll just have to keep an eye out for people making wishes."

Sam walked beside them, listening intently. Perhaps they should do some of their own research. Eventually, they reached the neighborhood Tucker lived in.

"Alright, well, I've got homework to do. See you later, you two!"

"Homework, Tucker, really?" Sam laughed, "Since when are you a responsible human being?"

"Since I have a date tonight and a test tomorrow," he responded with a grin, "Let me know if you need backup, Danny!"

"Sure thing, man! Good luck!"

And just like that, Sam was alone with Danny.

"So…" Danny began, "I haven't seen you in a while. You doing ok?"

"Y-Yeah," Sam got out, smiling a little. They felt somewhat uncomfortable, alone with Danny like this. It dawned on them with some guilt that it had been a long time since the two of them had been alone together.

"Hey, Sam…" Danny looked at them, frowning a little, "Do you have a minute? I'd like to talk."

Sam nodded, unsure what to expect, as Danny pulled them along, leading them both to a park. They sat down on a bench together, and silence reigned for a few minutes.

"I don't really know how to do this, but I have to ask. Are we ok, Sam?"

"What?"

"I just mean, we haven't really been alone together in a while. We started dating after the Disasteroid, and it was going really well for a while. But recently, we haven't hung out at all. I don't think we've been alone together like this in more than two weeks. And in days like today, when you could have gotten hurt, when you could have died, I'm reminded how much I care for you, and how much it would hurt to lose you. So I have to ask… has something changed?"

Sam gulped. "I-I love you, Danny."

He smiled ruefully, "I love you too, Sam. But something is different between us, I can tell. Is something wrong? Can you talk with me about it?"

Sam stayed quiet.

"Sam, I don't want to leave you," Danny sighed, "and I won't, unless you want me to. But this is hard on me, too. I know you're going through something, and it's difficult to see, especially since you refuse to rely on me."

There was silence for a minute. Then, finally, Sam spoke. Here goes nothing…

"Danny, what do you think about gender?" Well that was a stupid way to phrase that.

"Huh?"

"I mean, recently there's been a lot of stuff in the news, right? About people who are transgender? It's a really contentious issue politically."

"Oh, well, I guess. You're referring to those bathroom bills, right?"

Sam nodded slightly, though that wasn't quite what they'd been going for.

"I mean, I don't really care? I'm a cis guy – that's the right terminology, right?" Sam nodded in confirmation, and Danny continued, "So I'm cis, but I can sort of relate. I'm stuck between two worlds, worlds which most people say shouldn't go together. It's completely different, of course, but I do have at least an inkling about what it means to transgress, to cross borders. So the way I see it, trans people are who they are – they should be able to live their lives the way they want to, and it's nobody else's business."

Sam felt like they were going to cry. Danny's words weren't perfect, but he cared. He cared, and fell on the side of the issue Sam needed him to.

"I'm genderqueer," they finally blurted out.

Danny's eyes went wide. "Uhhh… come again?"

"I'm genderqueer," Sam repeated, and how that they'd started, they couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. "I don't identify as a woman, or as a man. Sometimes I feel a little more like one or the other, or I feel like both, or neither. The point is, my gender identity doesn't match the sex I was assigned at birth."

Danny was quiet for a bit; he seemed to be thinking. Sam watched him intently, fearing how this would end, each moment raising the stakes higher.

"So… how should I call you?"

It was Sam's turn to be confused. "Huh?"

"I mean, if you're not a girl, you don't want me to refer to you as one, right? So you probably don't want me to refer to you as "she," right?"

Sam felt as though they might just cry in relief. Is this… actually going to turn out ok? "I use they/them/theirs pronouns, if that's what you mean."

"Oh, ok," Danny paused, then proceeded to ask, tentatively, "we can still date, though, right?"

Sam actually laughed out loud, relieved for once at Danny's occasional ignorance of the finer points of social justice-related topics. "Yes, Danny, we can date. I'm still attracted to men. We can date, as long as you're still attracted to me."

"Sam, of course I'm still attracted to you. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just mean, it can be difficult dating someone like me. It's not constant, and usually not too severe, but I do get dysphoric – my body just feels wrong sometimes. It's why," Sam started, blushing, "we haven't been having sex recently. The idea of even having a vagina, or breasts, can feel incredibly nauseating at times."

"Sam, I don't date you for the sex," Danny deadpanned, causing Sam to laugh. "What I mean is, sex isn't a priority for me. If you want to do it, I'm definitely on board! But if you're only comfortable with doing it a certain way, or at certain times, that's absolutely ok." He reached out, gently laying his hand on Sam's.

"I love you, Sam Manson."

"I love you, too, Danny Fenton."

Hope you liked it! I've been wanting to write a trans character for a while, and somehow this just... happened? I was certain my first fic with a transgender main character would be Danny-centric, but apparently that's been shelved, at least for now. ;)

Love,

Red