Chapter Three: Consequences

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. I don't own Danny Phantom.

Maddie couldn't help herself.

Her finger hovered over the key, and after only a slight hesitation she pushed play. On screen was a scrawny, blue eyed boy pulling on a white jumpsuit, and as he headed into the vacant portal, she saw his friends flash him encouraging looks. One of them, the dark haired goth girl, held up a camera as the other paused his game long enough to watch. The camera flashed, and then, after a brief discussion that she couldn't hear, the teenager took a step back further inside the portal and stumbled. There was a brief look of confusion, and then a horrified expression flickered across his features just before he was incinerated in a flash of light, his body completely destroyed by the ectoplasm and electricity running through the machine. Tears stung her purplish blue eyes as she watched for what was probably the hundredth time as her son was killed, his scream echoing faintly for only a moment before vanishing entirely.

Her finger hit rewind, her mind unwilling to believe what her eyes were telling her, but this time another hand closed the laptop before she could play the video again. "Mads, enough," whispered Jack, and looking up Maddie saw the sad face of her husband gazing down at her, his normally huge frame somehow seeming ten times smaller than usual. She had never seen her husband look so defeated, so depressed and so lost, but then again, neither of them had experienced anything quite so painful as losing a child before that horrible day.

It had been three days since Danny had died, and yet Maddie could still not believe her son was gone, that she would never see her precious baby boy smiling, laughing, crying, or sleeping ever again. Although she had wanted to go to the ghost zone to see if perhaps his body had ended up there (or even his ghost, for as much as she knew that her son's ghost would not be the boy she knew, Maddie still desperately wanted one last chance to apologize and say goodbye), a strange green ecto blast had come through the portal mere hours after Danny's death and destroyed a handful of their inventions that had been stacked on shelves across from the portal. Whether or not it was caused by a ghost was uncertain, but to be safe her husband quickly constructed a set of heavy, ghost-proof metal doors to seal the gateway and prevent further blasts from potentially decimating the lab or hurting someone. He had just finished installing them when he had come upstairs and found her sitting at the table, watching the security footage from that day, and instead of wearing one of her usual blue jumpsuits she was dressed in only a plain shirt and jeans.

"I just can't believe he's gone," she said, and the tears she'd been holding back instantly burst forward and she let her head fall against her arms. "And now Jazz has been taken away, too, and oh, I just . . ."

"Shh," he whispered, sitting down next to her and holding her gently, although there were tears leaking from his eyes as well. As if losing Danny hadn't been hard enough, the cops had shown up shortly afterward. They had investigated the matter briefly before calling in someone from social services, and although everyone there had determined that Danny's death was a horrible accident, they also believed that it was due to gross negligence. The house was determined unsafe for a minor, and Jazz was taken away from them before Jack or Maddie had even had a chance to accept that Danny was dead. Although it had been too late to do anything substantial, Jack had at least managed to contact his old friend Vlad Masters and beg him for help. Vlad had promised that he would try to get social services to give Jazz back to them, but he insisted that he couldn't do anything beyond that. For now, the best Vlad could do was to take care of Jazz for them, and no one had questioned whether or not the billionaire was a suitable foster parent for the now estranged daughter.

Other than that, though, relatively little had happened since Danny died. Maddie's sister had come up and was taking care of the funeral arrangements—the thought still left both Jack and Maddie physically sick, no matter how much everyone told them that holding a funeral for their son would help them move on—and since they had been self-employed inventors, neither one had given even half a thought to work. They would still have money, even if they never created another piece of equipment again thanks to the numerous patents they had in place, and the Federal Bureau of Paranormal Investigation (better known as the Guys in White because of their bizarre obsession with dressing in pristine, white suits) had bought a considerable number of their blueprints over the years. To Jack and Maddie, however, that hardly mattered right now. Neither of them felt like eating much or doing anything else at the moment, no matter how necessary, and even Jack hadn't wanted a piece of fudge in days. It was just hard to keep going knowing that their son was dead, and that it had been one of their inventions and their carelessness that had caused it.

From what she understood, Danny's friends weren't doing much better. After the accident, Maddie had initially blamed them when they walked up to her sobbing as they explained what had happened. After all, Sam and Tucker were the ones who had convinced her son to step inside, but even though Danny still should have known better, Maddie knew that Danny would have done just about anything his friends wanted. Of course, in the end it was still Danny's decision, still their invention that had done the deed, and she shouldn't have screamed at Sam and Tucker that way. They were probably a mess now, grieving, hopeless, and guilt ridden, thinking that it was all their fault when really it was her's and Jack's . . . It had just been so hard not to blame someone, though, to blame anyone else but herself or her son or her husband, and when the pair had told her the truth . . . She shook her head, trying not to think about it since she knew her mind would just go in the same downward spiral for hours if she started thinking this way now.

"I just want him back, honey," she said, her sobs finally slowing down, but it wasn't because it didn't hurt anymore. Maddie was simply out of tears. "I keep—I keep going into his room, expecting to see him sleeping there or playing video games . . . but he's just not."

"I know, Mads," said Jack, not sure what else to say. In just a few days he had lost everything. His son was gone. His wife was a wreck. His precious daughter had been taken away from him. And the one thing he had loved doing—inventing new weapons and devices to better understand and fight ghosts—had ultimately caused the death of his son. Before the portal had been turned on, he had had thousands of ideas and creations he wanted to try, but now they were gone, and his newest blueprints were merely becoming dust collectors in a lab that he never wanted to set foot in again.

But he knew he would have to go back down there, no matter how much the mere thought made him want to scream. Shutting off the portal was impossible since it was now self-sustaining, and it required regular maintenance or else it would probably explode and take what little left that he loved with it. And ultimately, that meant that he would have to go back into the lab, no matter how much he didn't want to ever again, and it had to be him since there was no way Maddie would ever be able to do it. Somehow, Jack had to be strong even when all he wanted to do was give up.

A knock suddenly sounded on the door, and but neither one rose since they both planned to just ignore whoever it was. They were tired of being pestered by people offering their sympathy and curious neighbors, of being pestered by cops and detectives and agents from social services. The man at the door, however, would not be deterred, and he knocked harder, his voice insistent as he called out to them. "Mr. and Mrs. Fenton? This is Agent L. Can we have a word?"

"Make them go away," whispered Maddie, not looking up at Jack as she wearily buried her face in her arms. "Please?"

"Okay," Jack replied, sighing heavily. Every trace of joy was gone. The once happy, bumbling naïve man had been replaced by a depressed shadow self that just couldn't see the same light he once had now that his son was dead.

Standing at the door was a man in a white suit with fair skin and short, dark hair. Jack had never been able to tell the agents apart very well, but he knew that he normally dealt with either Agent K or Agent O. He didn't think he'd ever even heard of an Agent L before. "Can't you come and harass us some other time?" grumbled Jack bitterly. "Don't you people know what happened?"

"Yes, Mr. Fenton, and I'm sorry for your loss," he stated without a trace of sincerity. The man sounded like he couldn't care less, but Jack wasn't in the mood to pick a fight. "That's also why I'm here. See, my organization is very interested in your ghost portal, and we'd be willing to pay you a substantial amount of money for your property and all of your blueprints and equipment, so much that you wouldn't have to worry about finances ever again."

Or maybe he did feel like picking a fight after all, for at the agent's words Jack felt his temper instantly rise. "You really think I care about something like money right now?" snapped Jack, slamming his hand against the door frame and cracking it ever so slightly. "My son is dead!"

"I know, Mr. Fenton, and I imagine that remaining here in this place with the instrument of his demise so close at hand must be painful," said Agent L coolly, not showing a hint of fear despite the man's outburst. "We're giving you an opportunity for a clean slate, and if you'd like, we can also clear up this mess with your daughter."

"You could get Jazz back for us?" whispered Jack, his eyes lighting up as his anger receded, and the Agent resisted the urge to smile. It was too easy.

"Yes."

"I need to talk to Maddie about this," he said, his voice catching slightly, for he already knew his answer. He wanted to say yes, but Maddie might not forgive him if he did. As much as Jack would be happy never seeing this house again, Maddie was the kind of person who would want to remain, as if staying there forever would somehow bring their son back to them.

And while Jack might understand that sentiment, he'd much rather sacrifice this house and such an absurd hope to have his daughter back in his arms again.

"Of course," said Agent L, pulling out a card. "Here's my number. Give me a call when you know what you'd like, but if I don't hear from you in the next week, then I'll assume that your answer is no and I may be forced to simply take your property instead."

"Why not do that now?"

"Because it's easier if you cooperate," he said, "and because our organization understands the pain and suffering you must be feeling at this time, as well as the numerous contributions that you've made in the past. We wouldn't want to cause you anymore pain."

"Of course," said Jack, this time not picking up on the man's lack of sincerity as he took the card. "I'll speak to Mads about it."


The red headed sixteen year old girl sat outside the Nasty Burger, looking more disheveled than she had in years. Mere hours after her brother had died, Jasmine Fenton had been snatched away from her parents before she'd even had a chance to try and cope with what had happened. For three days now she had been living with one of her father's old college friends, the multi-billionaire Vladimir Masters, and every day she wished she could go home. It wasn't because she particularly disliked Vlad. He'd been nothing but kind to her, offering to do whatever he could to help her and yet still willing to leave her alone when she insisted on it, but it just wasn't enough. Like her, Jazz's parents were falling apart and they all desperately needed each other, but because of some stupid laws and social services they were forced to remain apart.

Although she wasn't in the mood to do much, Jazz had agreed to meet Sam and Tucker at the Nasty Burger. Neither Sam nor Tucker had really wanted to come, but Jazz hadn't been asking. She'd insisted. She knew that Danny's friends were blaming themselves for what had happened—and her mother's outburst hadn't helped that, either—and she had to try and help them see that it wasn't their fault. As much as Jazz was struggling to keep her head above water, she knew that those two would not be able to stay afloat at all without her help, and Danny, wherever he was now, wouldn't forgive her if she didn't do all she could to make sure they pulled through this.

"Hey, Jazz," said someone suddenly, and frowning Jazz saw a pretty, dark skinned girl standing behind her. She looked to be about Danny's age, but Danny had never mentioned her before and Jazz couldn't think of her name.

"Do I know you?"

"I'm Valerie," she introduced. "I was—um, well, I didn't really know Danny," she admitted as she sat down beside her. "We kind of hung out in different crowds."

"You don't really know me, either," said Jazz, her tone a bit colder than she'd intended, but the other girl didn't flinch.

"I know, but . . . I know what you're going through," she explained. "See, my mom died last year in a bad car accident. I was really messed up about it. Still kind of am, sometimes. Now it's just me and my dad, but my dad's one of those bury himself in his work types, you know?"

"I can relate a bit," said Jazz. The pile of books she'd read in the past few days, the homework assignments that she'd done, everything screamed that she was desperately seeking a distraction from the pain that just refused to go away. "But that still doesn't explain why you're talking to me."

"I just—I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry about what happened," she said gently, "and that if you need someone to talk to, someone who can at least kind of get what you're going through and who's a bit further through it than you are, then don't hesitate to come to me. Sam and Tucker can, too, although . . . I don't think they'll want to. I'm pretty sure they don't like me very much."

"Thanks," said Jazz, although she doubted that she would actually take the girl up on her offer. For a moment Valerie sat quietly beside her, and then, after gently patting Jazz on the shoulder, she stood up and headed off. It was probably for the best, too, since a minute later Tucker and Sam showed up, and when Jazz saw them she knew they were doing even worse than she thought.

Sam was a complete mess. Her make-up was smeared and hadn't actually been washed off in days, her hair was loose and slightly tangled, and instead of her usual stylish plaid skirt, boots, and black top, she was dressed in a simple pair of dark pants and a dark shirt that looked more like pajamas than day to day clothing. Tucker wasn't doing much better. It was clear that he hadn't been sleeping, and Jazz saw no sign of his PDA or his signature red beret. Neither one looked like they wanted to be there, and when they saw Jazz they merely collapsed onto the sidewalk beside her instead of heading inside.

"Hey, Jazz," said Tucker, no trace of a smile on his face. "Have you found out if you can go home yet?"

"No," she sighed. "I'm still stuck with Mr. Masters for now, but Dad called and said that he might've made a deal with the Guys in White that'll help me get home faster."

"The who?"

"Does it matter?" grumbled Sam. "What do you want, Jazz?"

"I wanted—well, I wanted to talk to you guys," she said. She had almost said that she wanted to see if they were doing okay, but that was stupid because they clearly weren't and she shouldn't have expected them to be. "I was worried about you."

"Well, as you can see, we're doing just splendidly," said Sam sarcastically. "I mean, who wouldn't be after killing their best friend three days ago?"

"Sam, it wasn't your fault," said Jazz instantly. "Or yours, Tucker. Danny was the one who made the decision to go in the portal, and besides, you two—no, all of us thought that it didn't work. What happened was an accident, and you both need to remember that."

"Your mom clearly doesn't think so," said Tucker slowly.

"My mom was upset and desperately wanted a target to lash out at because of the guilt she also feels over his death ," said Jazz, almost choking on that last word. It was still hard to admit that her brother was gone forever, but Jazz knew that she would never be able to move on if she denied it for the rest of her life. Danny was dead. He wasn't coming back. "It's not worth blaming yourselves for it, guys, and you both know that my brother wouldn't want you to feel guilty about this for the rest of your lives. He'd want you to move on, to live your life as much as possible both for your sake and his."

"But what he wants doesn't really matter anymore, does it?" snapped Sam. "He's dead, Jazz. He doesn't want anything now."

"He might not here, but we still are, Sam, and in honor of his memory we shouldn't lose sight of that and just give up," Jazz explained, her voice calm. "I thought you'd understand that." Climbing to her feet, Jazz let out a long breath. This was useless. They weren't going to listen to her, and she just didn't have the energy right now to argue with them until they finally saw reason. She had done the best she could, or at least, as much as she felt up to doing, and as much as she wished she could help them some more she knew that at this point Tucker and Sam were on their own. They were going to sink or swim with or without her help, and they would have to learn to deal with this in their own way. The best she could do was to let them know that she was there for them, too. "Look, I know that nothing I can say will make this better for any of us, but I just-if you want to talk, then I'm here, okay?"

"Okay, Jazz," said Tucker, his voice dead and emotionless.

"I need to go, but . . . you guys know that is wake is tomorrow night, right?" she said, and Tucker gave a slight nod. "So you'll be there?"

"Don't worry, Jazz," said Tucker as he wrapped an arm around Sam. Normally the goth would have shrugged him off, but she was too desperate for the comfort to push him away, and so the two of them continued to sit there, not moving as he held Sam closely. "We'll be there."


A/N: Just a glimpse of what's going on with everyone else, as well as some hints of what's to come. Next chapter it'll be switching back to Danny's perspective (and at the very least every other chapter will probably revolve around what's happening to him in the Ghost Zone since, y'know, he is the main character and all). And yeah, I know I could've done a bit more with Sam and Tucker and how they're handling the whole "my buddy's dead" business, but after doing all three Fentons I didn't really feel like dragging that out too much. Angst is all well and good, but, uh, yeah. It would've been a bit too much, IMO, so instead you just get a snapshot of how they're taking it. You'll still get a bit more as the story progresses, too, so for now I just don't want to overdo it.

Oh, and I'm going to say right now I won't be doing a funeral scene. Sometimes that's appropriate, but for this story is just doesn't feel quite right and I don't love writing those very much.

Hmm . . . Oh, yeah. As for Agent L, I just needed a GiW agent who was more competent than Agents K and O, 'cause yikes, are those guys ever failures or what? I generally try to avoid using OCs, but right now I'm pretty sure that he's not going to be a major character in the story even though the GiW will end up playing a part, so . . . yup. No worries if you dislike 'em.

Right. For now, at least, I think that's it. 'Til next time!

And, as always, please review. ;)