As a reminder, I also post on LiveJournal and Tumblr with the same username. Links in my ff dot net profile if you want them.

Second reminder: If this drabble makes no sense to you whatsoever and you're wondering what this has to do with Glee, please see the A/N on Ch 1 of this drabble series.

This is written from the POV of a phanghost, a fan of The Ghost and Phalanx superheroes. She's telling this story to other phanghosts on the Internet.

Hey, phanghosts-

Umm, I'm Casperbelle and I don't post here very often, I'm usually very cozy over in my lurker's corner. But something happened tonight, and I just had to share it with the only people who will understand why I'm freaking out right now.

But I feel like I need to back up and tell you how I came to be in that place at that exact time. It all started the night of the Ghost Vigil.

While I was on the subway back to my apartment, I got thinking about just how many people were there that night. That if we all did just a little something to help someone else, we could really have an effect, because there are just that many of us and God knows we have the passion. Ghostofasmile and Phantomphi were on to something when they had reps from charities at the vigil. I took cards from a couple of charities that night and called them the next day, leaving messages.

I already had plans that day after the vigil to visit a friend in NJ, so I was in a pizza place at Port Authority waiting for the next bus when a homeless man starts making the rounds begging for money. I told him I didn't have any cash, that's what my parents always told me to say to beggars since I was a kid. But as he walked away, I felt ashamed of myself. The Ghost wouldn't turn someone away like that. And it was only hours ago that I was so hyped up, gung-ho to go out and make a difference in the world. Then someone walks right up to me and asks for help, and I turned him down flat. Is that really all the conviction I have?

So I went after him and said I'd use my debit card to buy him a meal. So he ordered a slice of pizza, then asked me, "Can I get a drink? Is that okay?" And something about that just broke my heart. How humbling must it be to ask a stranger, 'Please may I have a drink with my meal, or is that asking too much?' I told him to get a drink, and also a salad or vegetables with his pizza if he wanted. He thanked me, saying that he hadn't eaten all day and wished me a good weekend. I watched him walk away and thought 'well it's something at least'. Didn't save anyone's life that day, but then how many can say they did, when they go to bed at night? Aside from doctors, fire fighters, and the superboyfriends, of course.

About a week later, I was done with classes for the day and was in the elevator headed up to my crappy apartment, and a mother and her little girl that I sorta know were in the elevator with me. She's a single parent, she works two jobs, and she always looks so tired and stressed. This afternoon the little girl was begging to go to the playground next to our building but the mom said she had an evening off for once and just wanted to relax.

And I had an epiphany. I'd inquired about joining the Big Brothers Big Sisters program, but you wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork you have to go through to get approved as a 'Big'. So I thought, here's a kid of a single parent right here in my building who could use an adult friend, what am I waiting for? So I offered to take the little girl out and the mom hesitated but eventually said yes.

So we went out and had a blast. I pushed her on the swings, we raced down the double slides, we did the monkey bars. I saw the mom looking out the window a couple times at the beginning, but then she must have decided to trust me. When it got dark and we came in, we found the mom fast asleep on the couch. We left her a note to come to my apartment when she woke up and tiptoed out. So I fed the little girl dinner, and then we made cookies and watched Enchanted on my laptop. When the mom finally knocked on the door just before eight, her daughter had fallen asleep. The mom apologized for leaving her so long but said she was so grateful for the extra sleep. And I told the mom honestly that I'd had fun.

But the next night I realized I'd jinxed myself. I really shouldn't expect volunteer work to be fun. It's supposed to be about helping others, not me enjoying myself.

One of the charities I'd contacted was the Food Bank, and I got a call that morning that they were short-staffed for something called Warehouse Repacking. So off I went on a Saturday morning, all the way to the Bronx, and spent all day lifting and moving boxes of food, helping to repackage it into smaller quantities, and loading it onto trucks for delivery to the soup kitchens. That night I was so tired I could barely stay awake long enough to soak my tired muscles in a hot bath without drowning myself.

Well, I survived the soreness, and later I heard back from another organization, a women's shelter. I was excited to get the call from them, because it seems like women's issues are really important to The Ghost. And me too, of course.

But volunteering there didn't turn out like I thought. I mean, I didn't expect it to be fun and games, or glamorous, but...maybe I'd at least get a thank you?

I was doing menial jobs that first night, like taking out the trash, folding laundry, prepping for meals. I was told during my orientation that I'm not really supposed to interact with the residents or try to help them unless I'm requested, because that's for the counselors and other trained staff to do.

But I passed by a little boy sitting by himself beside a door, holding a blanket but he didn't have any toys to play with or anything. I looked in the room and saw a woman talking to a staffer, I guess that was his mom. I didn't want him to be alone so I sat down next to him and tried to talk to him. He didn't say anything but smiled a tiny bit when I made motor noises with my lips.

Next thing I knew, his mother was standing over me yelling. Asking who the hell I was, what was I doing with her son, and I better not lay a hand on him. I was sitting there cowering and trying to tell her that I was just keeping him company, I just wanted to help. The mom snatched up her son and yelled at me that she didn't need any do-gooder's help before the staffer convinced her to walk away.

I just sat there shaking for a minute before I was finally able to get up, and I finished my shift hiding in the laundry room folding a mountain of towels. When I left that night, I wasn't sure I'd go back. Just didn't seem like I was cut out for this kind of stuff.

I think it was a few days after that when I went with my BFF to see a documentary called Girl Rising, it's all about the importance of educating girls in third world countries. The film followed nine girls in nine different countries where girls aren't typically educated, due to religion, culture, or their families just plain can't afford it. The movie quoted all kinds of statistics to prove that if you want to help a third world country, one of the best investments you can make is to educate girls, because then they'll educate their kids and it's a snowball effect. I was inspired enough when I got home from the movie that I logged onto the website and donated $25. It's not much, but I thought maybe if I couldn't hack it as a volunteer, I'll donate what money I can to a worthy cause.

Then I got a call from the lady who did my orientation for the shelter. She heard about what happened and said not to take it personally, that I have to remember I'm with women who have lost everything. They're at rock bottom and sometimes they take their worry and frustration out even on the people who are trying to help, but that doesn't mean they don't need help.

So I went back for my next scheduled shift, kind of nervous but I really wanted to stick it out for a while. And I was doing grunt work again, but after last time I really didn't mind it. I was perfectly happy to leave dealing with the residents to the people who are trained for it, and remind myself that someone has to take out the trash. So that's what I was doing, and I went to empty out the trash can in the front reception area, and the person manning the desk had to go to the bathroom and asked me to watch the front for just a moment.

The door opened, I looked up, and there he was. HIM. The Ghost. Right in front of me. I know we've all heard the stories about him showing up at rape crisis centers or battered women's shelters when he brings a woman in for help, but what were the odds of him showing up there? On the night I'm working, when I just happen to be the only one up front?

I know I stood there gaping, and saw that he was bleeding from a cut on his arm. I'm ashamed to admit that at first, I didn't even notice the poor girl he had with him. She was clinging to him and he was practically holding her up, and he finally said to me, "She needs help." I need to squee for just sec here, because his voice. It's like wind chimes. The few staticky audio clips we've heard on the Internet don't do it justice.

And then-OMG, I'm so embarrassed to admit what I did next. In an award-winning moment of idiocy I said, "I'm just taking out the trash." And as soon as the words were out of my mouth-too late to take the stupidity back-I snapped out of it and called for the shelter director. And I went over to try to help him support the girl, who looked like a teenager. She was crying and wouldn't let go of him. Our director Ms. Liz came out of her office with a coffee cup in her hand and there's a uniformed policeman right behind her. Dunno WTH he was doing there. The Ghost jerked back, like he was trying to back away, but the girl still had hold of him.

We all know the police have orders to arrest him on sight, but the rumor is that not all the policemen agree with those orders. I turned to look at the policeman, hoping maybe he was one of the nice ones, but he was reaching for his gun and his face was lit up like it was Christmas morning. It couldn't have been more obvious that he was planning to arrest the Ghost, and of course he can disappear when he wants, but he could hardly drag this traumatized girl away with him and she wasn't letting go.

The policeman had pulled his gun and was aiming at the Ghost, but Ms. Liz walked right in front of it. She pulled me back, shoved her coffee cup in my hand, then she put her arm around the girl and said, "Honey, I promise we'll take care of you, but you have to let go of him now. It's not safe for him here." I got the impression that it wasn't the first time Ms. Liz had seen the Ghost.

She finally let go and turned into Ms. Liz instead, who patted her back and kept talking to her, while the Ghost faded away before my very eyes. The cop was yelling halt, but the Ghost was just gone, leaving only a few drops of blood on the floor.

I think the cop and I both saw the blood drops at the same time, and both had the same thought-DNA. I saw him reach for his belt again, and figured he was getting something to collect a sample, so I just casually tipped the cup in my hand and poured coffee all over the floor, making sure it splashed over the blood.

The cop was so furious that he almost turned purple. I might have laughed at him if he weren't still holding a gun. Instead I just said, "Oops," and looked at Ms. Liz. She was still holding that poor girl who hadn't stopped crying through all of this, and she looked at me over her head and winked. "I guess I'll just get something to clean that up." I passed by the cop who was standing frozen with his hand on his utility belt, and went in the janitor's closet.

I was reaching for a mop when I felt something brush by me, it was like a really mild spring breeze, and then HIS voice next to my ear saying, "Thank you. You're my hero." I automatically turned and looked for him even though I knew I wouldn't see anything. I'm sure he was walking through walls making his escape, while I stood there hyperventilating.

When I calmed down enough to remember why I went in there, I got my mop and went to clean up the spill. The cop was gone and Ms. Liz had taken the girl away for counseling. I never got the whole story, not even her name, but Ms. Liz told me that the Ghost saved her before anything really bad happened. The girl was mostly just very scared and upset. Ms. Liz called her mother to come get her and said she would be okay.

Now excuse me while I go bronze my ear or something. I may never wash it again, because the Ghost breathed on it. I'm going to go to bed tonight reciting, "The Ghost called me a hero. The Ghost called me a hero. THE Ghost of freakin' New York called me a hero!"