Warning: There is some foul language in this one. You can't really blame him, given what is going on, but still.

Danny Fenton was exhausted.

Now, this wasn't something unusual in the slightest, given that the sixteen-year-old was far from normal. He was also the ghostly superhero Phantom, and had been fighting ghosts nearly constantly for the two years since he received his powers. The only problem was that no ghosts had attacked all week, and yet Danny felt even more drained than when they were always attacking.

The teen stifled another yawn as he halfway paid attention to Sam's latest rant about her mother. Tucker noticed this and jumped in.

"Dude, are you okay? You don't look so great." The techno-geek ignored the indignant 'Hey!' from Sam in favor of looking his best friend over.

It was true that Danny wasn't looking well. There were dark, bruise-like circles under his eyes, slightly worse than what he usually got from nightly ghost fights. His skin was pale even by his standards, and his normally bright blue eyes seemed dim and unfocused. Overall, the poor half-ghost looked closer to death than ever.

But Danny just shrugged it off, "Yeah, Tuck, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

Finally realizing exactly how bad off her friend looked, Sam scoffed. She crossed her arms over her chest, "Don't be ridiculous, Danny. We all know that the ghost activity has been low lately, so there's no way that you're like this because you're 'just tired.' Are you sick or something?"

"I dunno," The worn out teen sighed, "Maybe? I'm pretty sure it's nothing major, though. It'll pass, especially if thing stay as they are for a while."

The humans in the group shifted and glanced at each other before returning their attention to their mutual friend. "Danny," Tucker suggested, "Maybe you shouldn't come to the movie night tonight. How 'bout you just go home and sleep for a while. Your parents and Jazz won't be back from that convention thing until Monday, right? Plenty of uninterrupted rest."

Danny nodded, "Yeah, Monday… Are you sure that's okay with you guys? I mean, I'm su-" He broke off in a yawn, "-sure that I can at least stay up for another few hours."

"That yawn said otherwise. Go home, already, before you fall asleep standing up."

"But Sam-"

"I'll carry you if I need to."

"…Fine, I'll go home. Just, uh, don't do that. I'll text you guys when I wake up then, I guess." Danny relented in an effort to retain his sense of dignity.

Tucker smiled, "See ya, man. Feel better."

"Bye." The half parted ways with his team, sleepily shuffling towards his house, and furthermore, the soft embrace of his warm bed. After what felt like hours, he made it to FentonWorks and into his room.

"Aah, finally." The boy breathed as he stumbled forwards, tripping over his own two feet. Before he reached his goal, however, something strange happened.

His icy core pulsed in a way he had never before felt. It was only vaguely uncomfortable until it happened a second time, when it instead drove him to his knees in pain. A third pulse sent agony dancing along his nerves. He cried out and slumped to the hardwood floor, unconscious even before his head made contact.

Sam sighed as she and Tucker approached Danny's house. They were both worried about him, and neither could stand to go home without at least making sure the halfa was safe. Knowing the young hero's luck, there was probably a ghost fight, or maybe he had fallen asleep halfway up the stairs and hit his head or something ridiculous like that.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Sam pulled out the spare key Danny had given her years ago and tried to unlock the door. To her mild surprise, the door was actually already unlocked. She pushed it open.

Tucker, who followed her inside, was the first to notice something truly amiss. Since he was usually the only one of the pair allowed to sleep over at Danny's house (courtesy of Mrs. Manson's demands), he knew that the other boy never slept with the door to his room open, no matter what. Thus, when he spotted that the door was not just slightly ajar but completely wide open, he was more than slightly concerned. Was his friend really that out of it? Or-

"It's quiet as the grave in here," Sam unknowingly interrupted the African-American boy's thought process. At the raised eyebrow she was sent, the goth continued, "And I mean that in a way that creeps even me out. Is he here?"

"Either he's here and worse than I thought or he's off fighting and is about to be. Either way, I doubt this is good." Tucker answered, making for the stairs. He bounded up them two at a time, only to stop dead at what he saw.

"Tucker?" Sam asked as she followed at a slightly more casual pace, "What's wrong?" But she, too, froze when she spotted what lay on the floor in Danny's room.

At first glance, it simply looked like a huge pile of black feathers and blankets. Once the two looked closer, however, it became obvious that it was much more. The heap was shivering slightly, and the sheets were dotted in what the teenagers both immediately recognized as blood. There was no doubt in their minds that it was Danny's.

"Danny!" They shouted in unison as they snapped out of their dazes. Sam, though the second to see the mass, was the first to reach it and began to peel away the blankets. Tucker joined in. Neither bothered to stop and wonder where all the feathers had come from. As such, they received an answer before they had even asked the question.

On the shivering boy's back was a pair of huge ebony wings, disheveled and bloody. They were tightly pressed against the teen's back and twitching slightly every so often. Had they been properly cleaned up, they would have been quite beautiful. As it was, though, their magnificence was dulled by the gaping wounds they had evidently left in their wake.

"Oh my god…" Sam whispered as she drew her hands away and rushed for the medical kit she knew to be under the bed. She couldn't let her shock overcome her, Danny needed her help!

Tucker, on the other hand, stayed silent as he took in not only the sudden wings, but Danny's face. Surprisingly, his eyes were open and glowing the blue of his ice core, but his pupils were only pinpricks and a wave of a hand confirmed that he wasn't actually seeing much of anything.

"Sam, you won't need that," Tucker spoke up, "These gashes are healing already."

Sam paused in her motions to stare at Tucker incredulously, "What? That's impossible, even for him!"

But, she realized as she looked again, Tucker was right. Already the wounds were only half as bad as what she had first seen. Even as she watched, they closed up, not even leaving a scar.

"...What the hell..?"

Tucker took a deep, shaky breath, "I think Danny just grew wings and healed hundreds of times faster than usual. Either that or we're both dreaming, but I doubt that."

Nodding slowly, Sam noticed that Danny's eyes were open. In a much calmer manner than before, she strode towards him and knelt down, looking him in the blank eyes. She spoke in an uncharacteristically soft voice, "Danny? Are you okay? How did this happen?"

"I don't think he's actually awake." Tucker informed with a shake of his head.

But contrary to the boy's words, Danny blinked twice and gasped, "Sam! Wha-? When did you-? Why am I on the floor?"

After a few seconds of shocked silence, Tucker laughed, "Of course she would be able to wake you up." He then yelped as a boot flew towards his face, and narrowly dodged.

Sam scowled at him before turning her attention back to her feathered friend, "Danny, we came over just to make sure you were alright and we found you like this. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I... I was walking to my bed to take you guys' advice, and then... My core did something weird. It kinda throbbed in a way that made everything hurt. After that, I passed out." Danny relayed, then glanced around his room. He noticed the mess, "Uh, whoa, what happened here? Why are all of my blankets on the floor... And covered in blood? Wait, what's up with all the feathers?"

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance, but before either could say anything Danny caught on and spoke again.

"Some completely illogical bullshit happened again, didn't it." It wasn't a question.

Sam hesitantly nodded and explained, "Um, we found you all wrapped up in the blankets, and when we got you out... We saw that you now have wings."

"WHAT!?" Danny shouted, twisting around in his attempt to check. It wasn't hard to do so, as his previously tucked in wings had flared open halfway when he panicked. Actually, he ended up smacking himself in the face with one wing.

"Ow. Wait, how does this even happen!?"

Tucker chuckled at the mishap as Sam shrugged, but then he calmed himself, "I have a theory."

"Really?" Sam and Danny asked at the same time, and the goth continued, "How? This seems completely nonsensical!"

Tucker smirked, "I actually wondered about it for a year or so now, and this might be the answer to my question. Danny, can you still go ghost?"

"I think so?" The halfa swiftly changed forms and was surprised to see that his wings were now the snowy white of his hair. On second thought, though, he realized that it made sense. Everything else changed color at least a little bit, why wouldn't they?

"Dude, what are you wearing?" Tucker asked in disbelief. Sam had a smug expression on her face.

Looking down at himself, Danny noticed that no, he was not wearing his Hazmat suit. It looked like he was wearing black jeans, white combat boots with black laces, and white fingerless gloves. When he shakily stood and looked in the mirror, he saw that he had a long sleeved black shirt and a white vest with his black DP symbol over his heart. Two white belts crisscrossed around his waist, with a thermos clipped onto one. He turned and noticed that the vest and shirt had an open space on the back, just enough for his wings to comfortably fit.

"Well," he stated, "this is sudden, but at least it's not more Hazmat."

Sam nodded, "You've got a point. And, hey, I told you this kind of style would look great on you."

Looking himself over again, Danny muttered a quiet thanks. He had to admit it looked cool, but it was a far cry from his usual preferences.

"Uh, Tuck? Does this confirm your theory, or what?" He asked, burning green eyes turning to the bespectacled boy. He made a noncommittal noise and shrugged again.

"Kinda? I mean, I don't really know why your outfit changed, but otherwise I think so."

"Oh, just tell us already!" Sam snapped, leveling an annoyed glare at Tucker.

With a frightened meep, Tucker nodded, "Sure, sure! But have either of you ever wondered why Danny looks so different from the other ghosts? I mean, white hair is fairly uncommon, and other than Danielle no ghost but you has a healthy human skin tone. She doesn't count, anyway, since she's a clone and would already look like you."

"I kinda thought it was because I'm a halfa," Danny said with his head cocked to one side. He lifted his legs to float cross-legged in the air.

Sam shook her head, "Then what about Vlad?"

"Maybe because he's all evil, or 'cause he's been a halfa for longer?"

Tucker cut in, "I doubt it. It doesn't really fit, in my opinion. I think it might have something to do with your obsession, actually."

With a huff, Danny turned his head away. "I don't have an obsession."

"Yeah, Danny, I'm pretty sure you do. If it would save your own life, would you let a criminal die? Or anyone, for that matter."

"Of course not!" Danny said vehemently, "Even if it's a criminal, they don't deserve to die. It's better to just send them to prison and maybe give them another chance someday. Taking that chance away would be horrible!"

Sam sighed and shook her head, "And you say you don't have an obsession. You can't let anyone, no matter how bad, be killed or usually even hurt."

"B-but that's not an obsession, it's just the right thing to do." It sounded like Danny was trying to convince himself as much as he was them.

Tucker brushed it off, "Anyway, that obsession of yours is probably what makes you different. With such a strong obsession for protection, you're not a normal ghost at all."

"Wait, what?"

"You're more like a literal spirit of protection, or in other words, an angel."

There was a disbelieving silence, during which Danny and Tucker stared at each other and Sam's gaze darted back and forth between them. Then, suddenly, Danny burst out into laughter.

"T-typical!" He gasped, "Of c-course I'm an angel. Of fucking course!"

"Calm down, man!" Tucker tried, but Danny's giggles kept up. Frustrated, he asked, "Well, how else would you explain any of this?"

That shut him up.

"Alright, fine, I'll give you that," The floating boy muttered, "But why would this happen now? And why do I have these-" he fluttered his wings, "-in my human form?"

That gave Tucker pause, "I... I don't know. But I think I know who does."

Word Count: 2287

I hope you like my self-indulgent wingfic! Thanks for reading and have a nice day/evening!