Part Seven

Danny had, for the record, a headache worse than that one time he was split into three facets of himself and then forcibly rejoined. He could barely see straight, and staying motionless seemed like a viable and even reasonable option. He sort of knew that he was in his ghost form, and that he was on a floor. Those two combinations forced him to try and think back, however, because he knew whatever circumstances left him as a ghost prone on the floor meant danger was still immediate and he had better darn well be ready to either fight or run as the case may be. Images flashed in his head, sitting in an auditorium with Raven, flying into Cyborg – did the metal teen actually allow that? - and Starfire's face and something about Jazz... Jazz in the Fenton Peeler?

Then it all came back in a rush. "Jazz...!" He shot up into a sitting position, but his head told him firmly that was a bad idea, and he clutched his temples where he felt a distinct bump on one side. What...?

He looked up, vision a little blurry, but Jazz was there, in the Peeler, tears streaming down her face before she commanded the helmet off and took a watery breath. "Stupid Danny!" she shrieked, her voice at the perfect pitch to make Danny nearly pass out for the vibrations it pulsed through his brain. "I was so worried..." and she broke down into sobs.

Danny crawled over, wrapping his arms around her and hugging tight. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to; I'm sorry..."

His sister shook her head, arms wrapping around him just as tightly. A third hand touched his shoulder and Danny looked up to see the Teen Titans, Starfire smiling down at them before crouching to their level.

"We have learned something," she said gently, "We have learned that you are not so weak as you fear; you had the fortitude to save your brother, and we are all grateful for the help you granted us."

Danny looked around and saw three circus ghosts wrapped in Fenton Fisher wire, Freakshow cuffed and docile. He winced, pulling back and scratching weakly at a cheek. "I... I wasn't a problem, was I?" he asked tentatively.

And, interestingly, it was Cyborg who cuffed him on the shoulder. "No more than usual," he said with a grin. "We whipped your butt."

"Actually," Robin corrected, "Jazz put us all to shame. In spite of, or perhaps because of, all the stress of you disappearing she defeated all the ghosts – including you – with her gadgets and the rest of us just played support. If she was even half as good in Amity Park it makes more sense that you were able to fight all those ghosts. You have a heck of a support team, Phantom."

Danny smiled and looked back as his big sister, still struggling with her problems. "You hear that, Jazz?" he said. "No more back seats for you. Sam and Tucker will just have to make room for you. Grade A Ghost-Getter."

Jazz gave a wet laugh, and the siblings hugged again.

"We can share our feelings later," Raven said in her deadpan. "Authorities are going to be here any minute and you two need to leave."

"Got it," Danny said, turning invisible with some effort and moved to float. His head spiked in pain before he was an inch off the ground and he turned visible again. "Don't got it," he slurred. "Head hurts too much. Powers are all crazy."

"Well," Cyborg said, sly grin on his face, "You were hit in the head with a boomerang. Twice." His grin widened. "Someone might have gotten that piece of beauty on video."

"The blood blossoms didn't help," Raven said. "I'll take you to the Tower." She looked to Robin in askance, and the Boy Wonder nodded. In a whoosh of black energy that felt nothing like ectoplasm, Danny and Jazz were back in the Tower, relatively safe and mostly sound. Danny shifted back to his human form and felt a hundred aches and pain and simply slumped on the couch. Jazz powered down the Peeler and removed most of the ghost weaponry, slumping down next to him. They were both exhausted, and they fell asleep next to each other, hands touching.

Robin had deliberately waited on dealing with the press until the following day. He wanted Raven to be there for the press conference specifically, and both Fentons were still passed out asleep after all the stress of the previous day. He had woken both of them long enough to ensure they both ate and to ask more pertinent questions that weren't answered in Freakshow's file that Phantom's support team had sent. He was well armed for the questions that he expected, and any more random ones designed to distract him.

But delaying to be prepared had cost him. The evening news was all about Phantom robbing various strange shops around town, how he had faced down the Titans and gotten away, and the biggest story, by far, was how Phantom had overshadowed Cyborg. Even SHNN, the Super Hero News Network, that was a twenty-four news cycle specifically for the goings-on of super heroes from America to Zimbabwe had spent most of the evening theorizing on ghosts, what their abilities were, how dangerous the possessions could be, and supposed experts (all exceedingly clean and dressed in white) speaking of how evil ghosts were and couldn't be trusted, and how Phantom possessing Cyborg showed just how devious a ghost could be.

It was going to be an uphill fight.

No wonder Phantom had never dealt with the press in Amity Park. Still, it had taken a long year of fighting to change people's opinions. And Phantom had more encounters per day with ghosts than most super heroes did.

Raven put her teacup in the sink, having finished off some herbal tea, and Cyborg was already ready. Robin turned to Starfire.

"Keep both Fentons away from the news," he said. "Neither of them has had much chance to process yesterday, and this won't help."

"Worry not," Starfire beamed. "Beast Boy and I will entertain both Danny and Jazz."

"Once Beast Boy wakes up," Raven muttered with the exasperation of on who knew Beast Boy all too well.

"Let's go," Robin ordered, and in a black flash, they had left the Tower and reappeared at City Hall, where the press was already salivating.

Robin frowned heavily at the size of the press, far more than their usual turn out, which meant that the world was now paying attention to ghosts and that could be a problem. With a silent sigh, Robin stepped up to the podium with Raven and Cyborg flanking him.

First was the long explanation of the previous day, how a human criminal named Freakshow had taken control of the ghost Phantom and used him to steal items utilized in magic spells in order to enhance his control to more ghosts. Then was letting Raven speak about mind-control, its effects, and how Phantom had been fighting it off the entire time. Finally came a very long and carefully worded explanation on Phantom, how investigations of him were still ongoing, but that Phantom had been both cooperative and forthright thus far and details were still unraveling.

Then came the long and grueling question and answer section.

"How was Phantom controlled, and how are you so certain that this was real? If it was real, how can the public be assured that it won't happen again?"

"We are following the law," Robin stated firmly, "in not revealing the whys and hows of mind control, so that others will not attempt to use and abuse the ability. We don't want a method that could work on Phantom to be used on Superman. That is why the law exists."

"But how do you know it was mind control?"

Raven stepped forward and said very coldly, "As the team expert on minds and emotions, there is no doubt. Even Beast Boy could tell you it was mind-control."

Robin bit his tongue to not ream the press out about how if someone like Superman or Green Lantern had ended up controlled, there wouldn't be any question that they were under control.

And so on and so forth.

Then came all the questions about overshadowing, since mind-control was clearly the favorite topic of the conference.

"Can all ghosts possess?"

"Only ghosts over a Level Four on the Ectoplasmic Scale."

Robin had been prepared specifically for that question, as suddenly the reporters had different information: That there was a way to tell power levels of ghosts. It was meant as a distraction, to get them away from talking about possession and overshadowing. It worked for a while, with quite a few questions about power levels and the like being asked, which Robin told them all to look up any papers published by the Fentons. That had the most information. It was certainly a subtle dig about how little research they clearly didn't do.

"Cyborg! What did you go through when you were possessed?"

And just like that, the questions were back to overshadowing.

Cyborg explained what he remembered, what he'd recorded in his memory banks, and then detailed everything that Phantom had told them about overshadowing, how anyone with a strong enough will could resist and throw back a ghost that was attempting to overshadow, and what signs to look for.

Once all was done (easily two and a half hours later), Raven just growled that this was pointless, that the press was only asking the same questions over and over again, and it was time to leave.

Robin didn't bother to contradict her and let her raven-shaped soul-self take them back home.

"Smear campaign's too light a word for it!" Cyborg growled once they reappeared at the tower. "I can't believe this! No one was listening to anything we said! If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were calling us liars, like we were 'in cahoots with that spooky Phantom and keeping him from jail', or whatever nonsense!"

"That sounds like a good day," came Fenton's voice, and they turned to see Fenton sipping a mug of coffee, dark bags under his eyes. "At least they didn't shoot you on sight."

"You should be resting," Raven rasped.

"Jazz woke up with a nightmare," Fenton replied tiredly. "She's finally back asleep now with the Spector Deflector on."

"And you?" Robin asked.

Fenton grimaced. "Not the first time I've been controlled. At least that was more honest than the mind-jobs that Plasmius does." He slumped forward. "Honestly, I had an argument with Jazz and that's bugging me more right now."

Raven was already stalking out of the room, likely to meditate out her irritation at the press-conference, and Robin nodded to Cyborg, who also headed out to start looking closer at the Fenton weapons now that he had seen them in action and what they could do.

Robin turned back to Fenton. "Was it bad? Your fight with Jazz?"

"Basic sibling stuff," Fenton replied, staring down at his mug of coffee. "Doesn't take any of Jazz's psychology books to figure it out. We've been grasping and holding each other as tightly as possible since we were finally reunited. We're finally comfortable enough with being back together that we're no longer walking on eggshells to avoid making the other irritated or mad."

"Sounds like that's a good sign," Robin replied.

"Tell that to how each of us are feeling. Sibling fights are the worst."

Robin could only shrug. He wouldn't know. Batman had a new, younger Robin back in Gotham, but Robin hadn't had much chance to really talk much with him. To everyone in Gotham, Richard Grayson was at a boarding school. So he didn't really talk much with the new member of the Wayne family. So he didn't really understand siblings much.

"Do either of you hold a grudge? Should I talk to Jazz?"

"Nah," Fenton replied, "we'll probably apologize once she wakes up, then she'll pull me aside and we'll talk about what led into the argument, about her PTSD, about my anger issues after being on the run for so long, how we got into the fight, and all will be forgiven."

Robin frowned. "Anger issues?"

Fenton gave an annoyed glare. "Dude, I've been on the run, unable to trust anyone, for a year. Every time I show myself in ghost form, the response is to run screaming, and I end up getting more bad publicity. Of course I have anger issues and my fuse can get shorter than it takes for the Box Ghost to say 'Beware'. Jazz and I have already been talking about this. My coping mechanism has been to run to a new city. But now I can't do that so I need new coping mechanisms."

"Jazz wants to be a shrink, doesn't she?" Robin said, his lips tugging into a grin.

"Dude, you couldn't tell?" Fenton chuckled. "And she hates the term 'shrink,' so don't even think of saying that in front of her." He lifted his head and pitched his voice up in an imitation of his big sister. " 'Danny, a psychologist doesn't do any shrinking. The whole purpose of a psychologist is to help someone see outside of themselves to see whatever harm they may be doing to others or to themselves and gently guide them to more constructive behaviors that are non damaging'."

"She must be ready for licensing already."

Fenton shrugged. "She'd disagree. She's always saying that she has a lot more to learn. Even though she's kinda been my therapist for a while now."

A teenager, and already playing counselor for a superhero? Maybe, once Jazz finished college, Robin could recommend her to the Justice League. Finding therapists for superheroes was never an easy call, and she already had a lot of experience. But first she needed to get over her own PTSD.

"It seems to me if she can argue with you," Robin said, pouring himself his own cup of coffee, "then she's made a giant step in her recovery. She's comfortable enough to not back down." Robin looked to Fenton again. "I know you two have been sleeping in the same bed for comfort. To know that the other is still there and that this isn't a dream, and all that. But maybe you two can have different beds now? Still be in the same room, but have a little distance so you're not so codependent?"

Fenton blinked. "Hadn't really thought about it."

Given that he'd been mind-controlled the previous day, had barely slept, before having an argument with his sister that required him to leave the room, that wasn't really a surprise.

"Have you had any breakfast yet?"

Fenton held up his mug.

Right.

Robin hadn't had breakfast either, he'd been too anxious to get his early press-conference over and done with and early enough to make sure it was ahead of all the a.m. news shows. So he pulled out some organic eggs, free-range bacon, and organic whole grain bread for toast.

Fenton looked at him with a clear look of contained awe. "You okay?" Robin asked.

"You... you eat like me! A compromise between an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, and a devoted carnivore!"

Robin raised a brow. "How'd you know Beast Boy was an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian?"

"Duh, one of my best friends is one, and the other is the devoted carnivore!"

"Really?" Robin asked, surprised. "Cyborg is our designated artery-clogger. You haven't noticed since you've been here?"

Danny scoffed. "Noticing wasn't the problem. Jazz and I have eaten with them, Starfire, and Raven a few times since we came here for our house-arrest. You always grab your meal and disappear."

Robin shrugged. "Research."

"Fine, but on what? You never come up for air unless there's a fight, or practice, or whatever."

Frowning, Robin set down the plates. Sunnyside up eggs on fried toast and bacon. "Plasmius and Masters. We can't bring charges until we have proof. Proving the overshadowing won't be hard, the internet archives have videos of Jazz from before and after the accident. And, given the signs of overshadowing, it's not that hard to prove. But proving it was Masters is more problematic."

Fenton rolled his eyes. "I could have told you that. It wasn't until I came to Jump City that the world outside of Amity Park started even acknowledging that ghosts exist. Proving what Vlad has done retroactively? Never going to happen. And exposing him as a halfa would mean exposing me as well."

"Maybe, but even Luthor has suspicions around him. We need to do the same to Masters."

Fenton's eyes flashed green. "So you mean for the last three weeks that we've been here, between all the ghost technology and training and crime fighting, you spend your free time working on Plasmius? You're obsessed."

Robin frowned heavily in response. "No, I'm trying to resolve this. Masters needs to be taken down. That won't happen if we just sit here and do nothing."

Fenton let out a long, exhausted sigh, and rubbed at his face with both his hands. "Take it from a ghost, Robin," he said slowly and clearly. "You. Are. Obsessed. If you were to die right now, you'd have absolutely no problem becoming a ghost. Hell, if rumors about Batman are anywhere near accurate, he'll be a ghost when he dies as well."

Robin felt something cold run down his spine, and he tried hard not to shudder. "I'm not obsessed. I'm determined."

"Ergh, I'm too tired for esoteric, existential explanations," Fenton grumbled. "Look, ghosts are formed one of three ways," he started to tick off his fingers. "The first and most common are ghosts who are born in the Ghost Zone. They just want to live out their lives in their communities and not bother anyone in the Human Zone. The second and most powerful kind of ghosts are those born from an idea or a concept. Ghosts like Pandora or Ghostwriter. The third are the kind that are from a human or alien when they die."

"There are more than one kind of ghost?"

Fenton rolled his eyes. "You've been pouring over that spreadsheet and you haven't noticed? Definitely obsessed."

Robin did not flush. "Look, I'm not obsessed," he grunted. "I'm determined. Willful. Persistent. None of those are the same as obsessed."

Fenton rubbed at his face again. "Have you ever done anything you regretted? Something that, looking back, you never thought you'd have to do? Something you were so sure would work, but ended up being useless and didn't get you anything?"

Robin scowled, Slade's orange and black mask flashing across his mind.

"That's a sign of obsession. You're so 'determined' on your goal, you're not willing to let it slip away if that's the better option," Fenton explained. "Ghosts like the Box Ghost whose only obsession is boxes, goes after it constantly, even though it means facing me and me punting them back to the Ghost Zone. Hell, Box Ghost even went after Pandora's Box, because it was a box. Are any of his decisions rational? Of course not. Most of them cause him nothing but pain and humiliation as I, yet again, wash the floor with him and send him back."

Always open to a debate, and not at all happy with the idea that he might be obsessed enough to become a ghost when he died (a long, long, long time from now he hoped), Robin turned that argument around swiftly. "So you're saying that if going after something keeps failing, then you should just give up?"

Fenton frowned. "No, what I'm saying is that if you keep failing so spectacularly that you don't even have a chance, maybe you need to sit back and reevaluate whether its worth it or if there's something else just as good but not as painful to get. Definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

"Even if the results are worth it? Worth the risk?"

Scowling, Fenton glared and his eyes flashed green. "You're twisting my words. Look, when your entire existence is defined by that one thing, to the point where you eat, breathe, and sleep it, then you're obsessing. Even Vlad and I, who are half human can't fight our obsessions completely."

Robin raised a brow. "I don't see any obsession with you?"

"Dude, then you haven't been looking and you've been too buried in your research, proving my point entirely."

"And what is this obsession of yours?"

Fenton rolled his eyes again. "I'm a halfa. I get the joyous ability to have more than one obsession. It makes it easier to control, I focus on one obsession over the others to avoid my life getting completely taken over, but I do have obsessions. Plasmius obsesses over wealth, power, both of those in the no-duh category. He's also obsessed with being married to my mom and having me as a son."

Ew.

"And dear old Vlad is obsessed with the Packers."

"Er... what? As in, the football team?"

"Why else does he live in Wisconsin?"

"So he bounces between obsessions so that no one picks upon them?"

"Yeah, same as me. My obsessions are my family, being an astronaut, and defending people."

Robin was already filing that information away. "And you can't control these obsessions?"

"I manage them. It's why I patrolled so much back in Amity Park. That was how I appeased that. I still lived with my family, so it wasn't that hard to keep that going. Being an astronaut was harder. Simulators, telescopes, a lot of reading. That's how Jazz and I were able to work out how to get my grades back up. We were starting to tie my education into how to get into NASA. Made focusing on at least the math and science easier. English will never be my thing."

Fenton started to slump forward again. "I miss Mr. Lancer, of all people..." He shook his head. "But you are getting just as obsessed. When was the last time you played a game?"

"I don't see how that's—"

"That's what I thought," Fenton said, taking another drink from his mug.

Robin scowled. "I still say you're confusing determination and persistence with obsession."

Fenton looked at him with a glint in his eye. "Prove it. Go one whole week without looking at Vlad or any of my rogue's gallery unless one of them specifically shows up."

"Why? And leave you under house-arrest even longer?"

"To prove a point? Hell yes."

"Is that your obsession talking?"

Fenton gave a wide, enigmatic grin. "Oh, do you think me making sure someone actually takes a break for their own sanity falls under my obsession of defending people? You must agree on some level that you're obsessed."

"Oh, you're on."

Cyborg had never quite realized that the phrase "existential crisis" was a sliding scale, and he still wasn't quite sure where he was on that sliding scale – other than dead last compared to the other Titans. Even Beast Boy was getting used to the ghost boy, and Cyborg sometimes found himself a little jealous when he came across the changeling demanding the ghost boy shift back and forth between his forms as he cycled through his animal forms. It was like a shape-shifter party or something.

But... after last night... he knew he had taken a step forward.

Oh, he was still having an existential crisis, but slowly, in small part, he was getting used to the ghost boy. He couldn't wrap his head around being a ghost, but Cyborg was able to acclimate Ghost Boy's powers. While not common, he'd seen intangibility enough to be comfortable with it, cyrokinesis had been documented in several heroes and villains both, he needed only look at Starfire and Raven to witness flight. Invisibility was a problem – especially with the apparent frequency that the ghost boy liked using it, and no matter how Raven schooled him on the energy blasts being like Starfire's, Cyborg was still having problems with the "ecto blasts" because it presupposed the existence of ectoplasm which was a movie-science gimmick that didn't exist. He saw the blasts, saw the damage they did, understood that it was energy of some kind, but it Was. Not. Ecotplasm. That these kids kept trying to get him to believe it, tried to show him fishing poles and dream catchers and glorified vacuum cleaners and tell him it was viable ghost technology... The Fentons were just crazy.

And then, last night, as they were sneaking into the warehouse and taking positions, Cyborg had watched the circus performer order the ghost boy into a circle of flowers, and watched the ghost boy writhe in agony as soon as he did. For the first time Cyborg was able to jump-start his mind past the They are Crazy and see a teenager, just like him, in unimaginable pain and unable to stop it. Ghost or not, he was a teenager. Whatever Cyborg's position on the sliding scale of Existential Crisis, it was irresponsible to push his crisis on to the ghost boy. Fenton was – if nothing else – half human, just as he was half human, and when he realized that one part of his ongoing headache went away.

The second thing that helped him forward on the sliding scale was watching all the Fenton gear in action – fishing pole and all. Jazz had been a force to be reckoned with, using her technology expertly to capture the... the... well, she captured them, and Robin had sucked them into a Fenton Thermos (still didn't believe that, seeing it or not) for later... something. Cyborg was officially on board with the versatility and usefulness of FentonWorks technology and was more willing to integrate it into the Tower systems. Integrating it into himself was still a Hell No, but at least he was making steps, right?

After the news conference, morning training was pretty sparse, Robin was off obsessing over something and Starfire and Beast Boy were writing the incident reports for the police. They were outside again, Raven and Jazz up on the observation deck as Cyborg held out different minerals and elements for the ghost boy to phase through.

"Can I ask how it's possible for the Teen Titans to have diamonds on hand for training and if I even so much as look at a jewelry store people accuse me of grand larceny?" Phantom asked as he phased different parts of his body through the small cube of diamond with ease.

"Existential crisis," Jazz called down from below.

"I thought we were still fighting?" the ghost boy called back up.

"We are."

Phantom turned to Cyborg. "I will never understand sisters."

"Wouldn't know, don't have one."

Phantom froze for a second, looking up. "Does anyone on this team have a family? I mean, like Robin has the Bat family – which for the record is all kinds of weird – but he hasn't said boo about having a family of his own. Raven never talks about her family and neither does Beast Boy, and now you don't even have a sister? Is this like a collection of orphans or something?" Then his face fell. "I guess I fit in that mold, too."

Cyborg had forgotten that Phantom's parents had been killed, the event that had started everything. He wasn't sure how far to press on that, the cybernetic teen knew he had to get past his own problems and see Phantom as a kid, but he also knew that personal stuff in the hero business was a big taboo. Too many heroes had secret identities and people who would be instant damsels-in-distress if anybody ever found out. In the end, he said nothing, instead offering the next cube: Platinum. "We've done hardest elements, now let's try densest."

Phantom cycled through phasing his body through the cube, but reported he felt not difference compared to any of the other cubes he'd phased through over the course of the morning.

"I think we've kind of done everything," he called up to his sister, voice slightly irritated. "Can we finally do something different?"

"Next on the list is duplication," Jazz called down.

Cyborg watched Phantom make a face. "Can we do another one?"

"Still mad at you."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means I don't feel sensitive to your needs."

"Jazz!" Phantom growled. "Can't you just get to the part where we talk it out? You're the one who says communication is so important!"

Cyborg saw Jazz's eyes flash and immediately stepped back, Raven doing the same thing. "So I'm not allowed to revel in my grief?" she demanded, voice echoing over the bay, "I can't just spend a few hours or even the whole day being frustrated and upset and worried and mad because you want this all over?"

"I never said that! But what am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing, Danny! Stop pushing me!"

"You're the one pushing me with the duplication! You know how I feel about that!"

"I repeat: still mad at you and not feeling sensitive to your needs!"

"You know Vlad wasn't really sensitive to my needs, either!"

That was a mistake. Cyborg saw it on both of their faces and Phantom's gloved hands immediately shot towards his mouth. Jazz froze, stock still, and Raven put a hand to her head, a sign that the girl's spike of emotion had been big. Even from down below Cyborg could see the huge tears well up in her teal eyes, and she ran from the balcony.

Phantom was starting to lift up in the air, Cyborg wondered if it was conscious or not, and he quickly jerked out and grabbed the ghost boy's ankle to prevent him from flying after her. The ghost boy threw a very dirty look at Cyborg, but didn't phase through the grip, either. Cyborg kept a stern face. "Let her go," he said.

"But I need to apologize to her," Phantom pleaded, face furious.

"No, you need to give her space."

"What would you know? You just said you didn't have a sister!"

That was low, but Cyborg was nothing if not an expert on anger. "You need to chill out," he ordered in his second-in-command voice, "before you talk to her again."

"I'm perfectly fine!"

"Then beat me," Cyborg countered. He threw a glance up at Raven.

Phantom scoffed. "That wouldn't even be a challenge, you don't have any ghost weapons on you yet."

"Try me," Cyborg said, offering an arrogant grin and even throwing in a "come at me" gesture. Phantom, as predicted, was too mad to realize what he had just stepped in and threw an ecto... energy blast as Cyborg. The metallic teen dodged easily, shifting his arm into a cannon and taking aim, Phantom already flying at him.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"

A black cage flew up around Phantom and he crashed against the bars head first. The ghost boy snapped back, landing flat on his back before the black tendrils shifted and wrapped around him up to his shoulders. Raven floated down, hood up; Cyborg lifted a hand for a high-five, but the mystic ignored it and hovered a few feet from Phantom. "You won't break out of that," she said, before offering what could only be described as a deadly smile. "Thanks for telling me the difference between ghosts and ectoplasm, by the way, it's how I figured out this technique."

Phantom growled. "Let me go. Let me go, damn it, I have to talk to her!"

"Not before you talk to yourself," Raven said, voice flat. "And explain to yourself and to us why you would invoke the name of your greatest adversary to hurt your sister."

"Because I'm mad, is that so hard to understand?" Phantom grunted, struggling against the black bonds.

"Yeah, we got the memo," Cyborg said flatly. "What we don't get is why."

"Because it's all about her!" Danny shouted. "I've spent over a year on the run since the accident, going from foster home to homeless shelter to dumpster and back again to keep away from Vlad freakin' Plasmius so I don't turn into that only to find out that no, actually, my entire family didn't die in the explosion and my sister has had Vlad freakin' Plasmius inside her for that year which undoes all that emotion I just spent the last year wasting! And if that isn't enough let's add some traumatizing PTSD into the mix to make her nothing like she was and now I have to get to know her all over again and no matter how supportive, how helpful, and how desperate you are to fix it it won't get fixed and after six freakin' weeks nothing's changed and now I take one day, one freakin' day, for myself and I go and get kidnapped by Freakshow and tortured with blood blossoms because I'm just that stupid and instead of having a therapy session we spend the entire morning talking about her problems!"

He finally sucked in a breath. "I just want her back!"

And, finally, the energy left him and he slumped forward, head thumping against the black energy, and Raven slowly released her grip, letting him sink to his knees, listless. "I just want to go back," he murmured. "Back to the way it was..."

The moment hung in the air, and Cyborg could feel himself move a little further on his sliding scale. He knew intimately well what wanting to go back felt like. The first few months after the accident, learning how to use his new body and all the trials and tribulations that went with it, aching for everything to be like Before, when he had complete control of his body and could do anything he wanted. It was a dark place, that period in time, and even now that he was happy with his cybernetics and his new form, there were still times he just wished so hard to go back.

He glanced at Raven, saw that she had empathy, too. The metal teen crouched down to say something – he wasn't sure what, maybe encouraging, maybe understanding, but Phantom once again opened his mouth.

"I wish Clockwork was here..."

And Cyborg heard the heretofore never-before-seen gasp of Raven, and looked up just in time to see her hood lower of its own accord as her dark eyes doubled in size.

"You know Clockwork?" she asked, her normally deadpan voice colored with unhidden awe.

Even the ghost boy recognized a rare sight when he saw one, looking up with exhausted eyes and frowning slightly. "Uh... yes?" he said hesitantly. "He's kinda one of my mentors."

Raven visibly shuddered, and Cyborg debated running for high ground, because he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what kind of strong emotion she was feeling to make that physical an expression of it.

"I don't know anything anymore..." she muttered. She kept muttering to herself as she floated away, but not before she felt emotion strongly enough to have a black explosion erupt from her soul-self. Phantom was sent flying up into the air, Raven's uncontrolled emotions sending a black spiral of energy that flung Phantom left and right, him yelling the entire way, before he was dumped into a Phantom-shaped crater by the waves.

"... I'm having a bad day," he grumbled.

Normally, Raven reflected, after such a stunning revelation as Fenton knowing Clockwork, the lesser known name of Chronos, Master of Time, she would need to spend the rest of the day in meditation to balance out everything she was feeling. (Awe, terror, envy, shock, what the hell?) And she still needed to be in meditation to even everything out. One sporadic burst of energy had already sent Fenton flying and Raven didn't want that to happen to anyone else on her team.

But her stomach was reminding her that it was famished, and with her feelings already on the turbulent side, she didn't really want hunger to add to the mix. So she headed to the kitchen, planning on getting a cup of some sort of soothing tea, maybe lavender, and just watching the waves.

Naturally, this was not to be.

Instead, she walked in to the kitchenette and was overrun with the sweet, sweet smells of baking and cookies.

Yum.

Maybe she could have something with her tea.

Raven looked over to see a huge bowl piled high with all sorts of cookies (were those oatmeal drop cookies? She hadn't had those in ages... And there were meltaways! All sorts of tea cookies, tiger-eye cookies, was there any type of cookie that wasn't there?) Despite all the evidence of a lot of baking, the kitchenette was still fairly clean, counter wiped, bowls neatly stacked to the side to give room, and Fenton was pulling a fresh batch (traditional chocolate-chip) from the oven to set aside to cool. Fenton looked up, and saw her.

"Oh," he said, flushing. "Hi."

No doubt he was remembering his outburst from earlier and her own outburst that had sent him flying.

"Hello," she rasped.

"Um... Cookie?"

"Yes." She walked over, her nose telling her that everything smelled delicious, so get to those cookies! "You bake?"

Fenton looked aside, already measuring out flour and sugar for another batch. "Not really. Mom was always the baker. It was the only thing she could cook without bringing it to life."

Raven was decidedly not going to ask. Both of the Fentons were grieving the loss of their parents, and this was probably one of Fenton's coping mechanisms to feel close to his mother. Jazz was still coming to grips with the loss. She helped herself to one of the oatmeal drops and set some tea, and simply watched as Fenton went about getting a batch of apple-glazed cookies.

Fenton watched her warily. "You going to send me flying again?"

She only gave one of her mysterious smirks.

"Right," Fenton grumbled.

She held in her chuckle.

The door opened and both Fenton and Raven turned to see a satisfied Robin and a very-defeated Beast Boy come in.

"Something smells good," Robin said, easily coming over the huge bowl of cookies.

"Good... yeah..." Beast Boy mumbled, somehow crawling more than walking.

Raven turned to Robin and raised a brow.

Robin shrugged, a huge grin still on his face. "Beast Boy and I were sparring," he answered her unasked question. "Morning practice today wasn't going to happen right anyway, so I offered to spar."

"Worst idea ever," Beast Boy grumbled as he slowly climbed his way from the floor to one of the stools by the counter. "My whole body is one giant bruise..."

"You're still moving and nothing is broken," Fenton shrugged, offering a plate of cookies. "That has to count for something."

"Yeah," the changeling muttered. "What that something is has yet to be determined." He nibbled on a cookie and quickly got his energy back, as if he hadn't spent who-knew how long sparring with the Boy Wonder. "Wow, these are good!" Then Beast Boy got a look on his face. He quickly grabbed his plate of cookies and backed away, keeping an eye on them. "No take-y the cookie!" he shouted, before swiftly changing to a monkey and racing off, plate in hand. Tail. Whatever.

Robin and Fenton chuckled. Raven was simply amused.

Fenton put his latest batch of cookies in the oven and set the timer, before wiping down the counter. "So," he said, raising a brow to Robin. "You've managed for all of four hours. Is that supposed to impress me?"

Robin leaned forward with a predatory grin. "No. A week will."

Boys. Raven grabbed another oatmeal drop. Then poured her tea.

Starfire then burst into the room, bubbling and sparkling, and Raven tried not to wince. "Wonderful! Both Danny and Robin are here!" she beamed.

"Turn down the wattage," Raven grumbled.

Jazz followed them in and immediately went for the cookies.

"Jazz and I wish to inform you that we are headed to the mall of shopping! We shall return by dinner!"

Fenton immediately stiffened and looked to his sister. "Jazz," he asked softly, "is that a good idea?"

"Still mad," Jazz muttered back. "I need space and being in the same walls for weeks isn't helping."

"You had difficulty with crowds well before."

"I can handle it, Danny."

"I know you can," Fenton replied hotly, clearly still dealing with his explosion from earlier. "There was never any doubt of that! But I'm just asking if it's a good idea."

Jazz narrowed his eyes at him and the look of Intimidating Big Sister was completely ruined as she snatched one of the caramel cookies. "I'm going Danny."

Fenton only sighed and nodded. "Let me finish this batch and I'll be ready to come along."

"Without you," Jazz said firmly. "We need space. We're not getting it. So I'm taking it."

Fenton clearly didn't care for this. "But Plasmius knows that we were with the Titans. The news has me in Jump City, he'll be canvasing the area to find you and me! You can't go alone!"

"You need not worry," Starfire said brightly. "I shall accompany her! My starbolts can affect ghosts, so your sister will be in safe hands!"

"If you could detect a ghost," Fenton growled back. "None of Mom and Dad's gadgets were every any good at finding a ghost, they always had to shoot first and then ask questions. I'm the only one who can actually tell-"

"I'm going, Danny. End of discussion."

Fenton took a breath for rebuttal, then deflated. "Spector Deflector?"

"Already on."

"Bazooka's too big and noticeable."

"Two wrist-rays," she showed off a bracelet on each wrist.

"Boomerang?"

"Fenton Phones."

"I'll get my pair." Fenton left, probably to get more of his gadgetry from Cyborg's workshop.

Robin turned to Starfire. "You sure you got this?"

And, despite her bright smile and shining countenance, Starfire gave a most serious answer. "Jazz and I have spoken of this. She will remain within my sight, no matter what. I will remain visible and obvious, so that if anything goes wrong, others will notice."

Raven nodded to herself. They were going to have to interrupt all the testing that Fenton was going through from both Robin and Jazz in order to get either one of the Fentons to start making some of the ghost gear for the rest of them. Raven was certain that Cyborg would want some version of the Spector Deflector after being overshadowed and Raven knew she wanted something like that with her jeweled belt of defensive spells.

Jazz was already taking over Fenton's spot in the kitchenette, starting another batch seamlessly from the ingredients already out.

"Is this wise?" Raven asked quietly. "It is a legitimate question."

Jazz looked balefully at her.

Raven merely raised a brow, sipping her tea.

The carrot-top rolled her eyes. "Looking at it purely in terms of safety, no, this is a stupid idea. Idiotic even. But looking at it from a mental-health perspective, I need to get out. I feel the walls caving in, as it were, and while I know the circumstances are different than my imprisonment with Vlad, I still feel imprisoned. I need to go out and relax. Danny and I are getting on each other's nerves, and some time apart where we aren't smothering each other is usually the best way to do that."

Raven nodded.

Jazz was pulling out Fenton's cookies and putting her own batch into the oven when her brother returned.

"Call me if you need me," Fenton said, sticking a device in his ear. "Call me to reassure yourself that I'm here. Call me to bug and irritate me. Whatever you want. Just call me."

And, despite the underlying anger and irritation that Jazz had festering in her all day, Jazz gave a soft, weak smile. "Same for you," she said. "And don't do anything stupid."

"Look who you're talking to."

Jazz only rolled her eyes. "Let's go, Starfire."

Fenton looked at Robin and Raven once his sister was gone. "Once Jazz's batch of cookies are done, I guess we'll be heading out."

Robin arched his own eyebrow. "Oh?"

Fenton let out a heavy sigh. "Jazz has a point. We've been cooped up in here. Her more than me, yes, but my one day to be out for myself, yesterday, went about as well as a missile to the face. I need to get out."

Raven looked down, knowing that she had failed to notice that Fenton had disappeared, and feeling guilty about it.

"If Jazz can go out shopping, I can go find a Portal and drop off some of the ghosts I've caught back into the Ghost Zone." Fenton offered an arched look to Robin. "If you can handle it."

Robin's grin was almost scary. "Might be interesting."

"Boys," Raven muttered.

Author's Notes: Wow, a lot happened, thought it felt like it didn't. I don't think everyone quite knew what we meant when we said fall out - but neither Jazz nor Danny are very mentally healthy, and a big blow like Freakshow will affect them both. Like stated, it's a sign that both of them are healthier that they have a fight, and Danny's source of irritation is natural: he's been through just as much as Jazz, and he needs to talk about his problems too. Jazz isn't QUITE there yet, and naturally siblings have the worst fights; they are especially tailored because Jazz is a psychologist-wanna-be and has a deeper understanding of how the fights get generated.

We also have a very important conversation about obsessions - not because of how it pertains to the fic but because we get to blithely make up ghost lore as we go. It's been forever since we played. Also, we're not the first and likely not the last to poke at a certain bat-family's obsessive nature. :P

The press also rears it's head. A few people have commented in reviews and PMs about how the press seems to be handled, and while we answered them we'll restate here (and for our international friends): Back in the 80s a lot of regulations in regards to TV were removed. We were kids at the time so our understanding is a little fuzzy, but some of the consequences of this were things like children shows existing solely to sell toys instead of being purely educations, and we got things like My Little Pony, Transformers, and TMNT. Another consequence is that new stations were no longer federally/locally funded, and so news stations had to go commercial. Over the course of 30 years, news now has to compete with ratings and sales and viewership as much as any other type of TV, and the natural price that's paid for this is that news now has to "sell," especially with the invention of the 24hour news cycle. The competition to be first has superseded the competition to be accurate. News now has to ENTERTAIN as well as Inform. There are now also stations that claim to be new stations but are instead propaganda machines.

There is a healthy debate to be had about whether that's good or bad, but right now the news is a product of its time: it is a tool. Nothing more, nothing less. And because media is a tool, people who understand that are pushing their agenda. The Titans don't have the inside information to have a balanced opinion on the news, only the experience of talking with reporters of all types when they interview, and then witness how the interview is either played straight or heavily edited to make a point.

The news also suffers from the ghost-racism. That's an entirely different author's note and way too big to put here, but we've talked in other fics about ignor-racism, and nobody other than the Fentons and the Titans really understand what's actually happening.

Anyway, next chapter is the new "episode," i.e. ghost portals, escaped ghosts, and shenanigans. A skootch lighter than the last couple chapters.