Shifting anxiously in his seat, eyes directed towards the double doors, Danny waited. His hands were clammy, heart thudded loudly in his chest. Thoughts spun around in his head.

What was he going to say to him? How was he supposed to explain himself?

"Danny would you quit it, what's the matter with you," Sam interrupted, glaring at his bouncing leg.

"Huh?" he replied without turning to look at her irritated face.

"You're acting weird, did something happen?" She asked, her voice softening slightly.

Danny tore his eyes away from the door, "Did you guys see Buster at all today?" he inquired, completely ignoring her concern.

Tucker rolled his eyes, "dude, you still worried about him? He seemed completely fine to me."

Of course he was worried. Buster thought that he was some freaky gun-wielding lunatic. He was afraid of him. Sadly, the truth wasn't much better. There wasn't anything he could say to clear his name that wouldn't sound completely crazy. The least he could do was apologize for traumatizing him.

He had gone to park two nights in a row hoping he could talk it out as Phantom, try and understand before really confronting him, but Buster hadn't shown up. He contemplated calling him but lost the nerve. He just didn't know what to say. What do you say to a kid that you scarred for life?

Finally resolving to apologize to him in-person at lunch, Danny sat on their bench awaiting his arrival. Time ticked on, leg bobbed up and down, Sam's scowl deepened. Buster didn't come.

Abruptly, Danny got out of his seat, picked up his uneaten food and flung it into the trash. Ignoring his friend's questions, he marched over to the A-list table and stood beside the older Baxter.

Before he could open his mouth, Dash gave him a narrowed side-ways glare. "What do you want Fenturd," he spat.

Danny was impressed, he was expecting to at least have food thrown at him for venturing into forbidden territory. "Uh, I just wanted to know if Buster came to school today," he asked, suddenly feeling nervous under the glare.

Dash narrowed his eyes further and let him squirm. Finally he turned his head away from Danny, picked up his sandwich and replied, "he said he wasn't feeling well."

Danny stood there for a few seconds longer until he realized the interaction was over. Turning awkwardly, mumbling an inaudible, "thanks," he walked back to Sam and Tucker.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked, crossing her arms as he slumped back down onto the bench.

"Uh, nothing. I just wanted to know where Buster was. That's all," he said, trying to appear casual.

Fixing him under a scrutinizing gaze, "you're panicking," she concluded.

Tucker looked at her and then back at him and nodded, "I agree, you don't look so good man."

Suddenly feeling defensive, Danny furrowed his eyes. "I'm fine," he emphasized.

"But I want to know why, did Buster say something to you? Did you do something to him?" She inquired, gaze unwavering.

Danny threw up his arms, "I didn't do anything to him!" he exclaimed. Sam raised her eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. God, she was infuriating sometimes.

Before she could dig any further, he got up and stomped out. Quickly checking his surroundings, he transformed and flew up into the ceiling. Relishing the contrasting warmth of the sun with the stark chill of the winter air, he glided aimlessly above the rooftops.

He needed to clear his head.


Resting his knees onto the brittle remnants of the grass, Danny peered at the body lying in front of him. "You awake?" he softly asked.

Glancing at him with one eye, "yeah," Buster mumbled but made no further movements. An icy breeze swirled softly around them. Danny held his breath as he crossed his legs and sat, silence hanging heavy in the air.

"Isn't it still a little too cold to be sleeping under the open sky?" he commented as he observed the small boy.

He shrugged the best that he could from his position. "I guess so, but I was waiting for you."

Danny bit his bottom lip, it was now or never. "You feeling better?" he inquired, trying to ease casually into the conversation that he had carefully planned in his head.

"Huh?" Buster asked, confused, he gently pushed himself up into a seated position.

"You didn't show up for school today" Danny quickly clarified.

The confusion remained on his face as he watched Danny's ghostly features. "How did you know?" he asked slowly, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion.

Damn, he messed up again. Buster was surprisingly excellent at catching his slips. Quickly coming up with a logical excuse, "uh…Danny told me," he decided.

"Oh," he nodded, accepting the statement. Buster looked away from him, fixing his eyes straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought.

Talking a deep breath, Danny continued. "Buster, are you mad at him?" He finally asked, getting to the point. He wasn't exactly ready for the answer but he needed to know. It was eating at him.

Shaking his head at the question, "No, why would I be?" Buster said offhandedly.

Startled out of his train of thought, Danny stared at the boy. He seemed upset, there was not a hint of a smile on his face. Was he lying to him? "Well, he was telling me about Christmas eve…" Danny trailed off, trying to provoke a reaction.

Realization crossed the boy's eyes, as if the incident had been the farthest thing in his mind. He scratched his head before looking back at Danny, "Oh, no I'm not mad. Confused, a little terrified, but not mad. He did save us after all," he concluded maturely.

Danny sat dumbfounded, his shoulders unconsciously relaxed as he processed his friend's words. He wasn't mad at him. He didn't hate him. He had been scared…but he was okay. It didn't magically make what he did better, but a sliver of the immense guilt lifted. They were still friends.

Danny couldn't help but smile slightly. Rubbing his neck in mild embarrassment, "I see…he wanted to apologize either way," he said sincerely. He would apologize properly as Fenton later. It was the least he could do.

Buster hummed in response, "you guys are pretty close huh?" he asked a few moments later.

Danny snorted at the absurdity of the question. 'More than you'll ever know,' he thought to himself with a secret chuckle. He nodded and Buster turned back to staring out in front of him. Danny floated up slightly off the ground, resting his elbow on his crossed knee, he regarded the boy. There was something bothering him.

"So, what's wrong then?" he asked abruptly, shaking Buster out of his reverie.

"How do you know something's wrong?" he countered, carefully pulling up his guard.

Danny tilted his head playfully and smiled, "well when someone skips school when they are in perfect health and then sneaks out to go talk to a ghost, I'd assume something was up." He watched Buster shift under the accusation. Something was definitely wrong. His smile disappeared, replaced with a worried frown.

"I'm fine," the boy half-heartedly insisted. Already aware that he had lost the battle.

"Buster," Danny sternly urged, "look at me." He complied after a long silence, eyes brimmed with threatening tears. Danny's face softened, he placed a supporting hand on his shoulder.

"I just…I don't know how to deal with it anymore," Buster finally admitted, breathing out heavily. He lay back down onto the cold ground and shut his eyes tightly. A small tear leaking out.

"With what?" he prompted, knowing full well that Buster probably didn't want to talk about it. But, Danny knew that keeping it bottled up wasn't the right solution to whatever the boy was dealing with. He needed to talk to someone. Who better to listen than a ghost?

"I miss my mom," Buster whispered softly. If it wasn't for Danny's heightened hearing, he would have missed it.

Floating back down, Danny lay down beside him. "Tell me about her," he kindly encouraged.

"I…she was my best friend," he choked. Tears no longer confined, silently flowed down the sides of his face. A broken smile formed on his lips, "we had fun together; secret handshakes, fake holidays, silly nicknames…I couldn't imagine my life without her." He paused, taking in a shaky breath, he brought up his hand to wipe his face.

"What happened?" Danny asked curiously, careful to keep his voice soothing.

Buster closed his eyes. "One year ago today, she disappeared."

FLASHBACK

Stepping through the door, he waved at the car, watching them drive off. Buster turned the lock behind him and shivered. The warmth of the house embraced him as he removed his winter coat and allowed his frozen face to melt.

Dropping his luggage onto the floor, "Mom! I'm back!" he called out, pulling his feet out of his heavy boots.

He had really missed her. Skiing at a lodge on a weekend trip with Arthur's family and his other friends was amazingly fun, but he never liked spending too much time away from her. He was looking forward to spending some time together before school started up again.

Eagerly, he walked into the kitchen and looked around. She wasn't there.

That wasn't really concerning in itself, she could have been upstairs. Or she might have been out, but Buster stiffened. His heart started racing, his breathing became laboured. Something was wrong.

It was just a horrible feeling deep in his gut. He wished with all his might that he was wrong; however, the moment he stepped into the kitchen, he knew.

An eerie silence filled the room, the humming of the fridge and the constant ticking of the wall clock faded. He backed away, feet pounding up the stairs. "Mom! I'm home!"

There was no reply.

The silence followed him like a thick fog, it was becoming hard to breath. His laboured breaths and pounding heart were the only sound resonating in his ears as he frantically searched every corner of the little town house.

Searching for a sign, a simple note indicating she was okay, anything, he tore apart the whole house. But he found nothing.

Feet pounded down the stairs, he threw open the door and stared outside. Her car was missing. How hadn't he noticed that before?

He pulled out his phone, sitting down numbly in the living room. He dialed her cell number. No answer. He dialed her office number. No answer. He dialed Harry's numbers. He hadn't seen her. He called everyone he could think of. No one knew where she was.

His heart sank but he refused to believe she wasn't going to walk through the door any minute, a bag of takeout in her hands.

He didn't move, he sat on the couch, staring at the door. The pounding of his heart slowly subsided as the ticking clock overpowered his senses. The seconds ticked by, then minutes, then hours.

Buster didn't know when he fell asleep.

When he awoke, for a split second, everything was okay.

He looked around, the small smile on his face slipped, a heavy feeling of dread spread throughout his body. The house was quiet. The previous warmth had completely dissipated, a strange chill wormed its way in. Time stood still.

He didn't know how long he sat there, unable to move. A sudden sound startled him out of his trance. He looked down. It was his stomach, he had skipped dinner.

Slowly he sat up out of the couch, walked upstairs and brushed his teeth. Mechanically, he pulled out a box of cereal and ate a bowl full. He was clearing the table when a knock echoed through the house.

He dropped the bowl, it shattered on the tiles by his feet, but he didn't notice. Hesitantly, he walked over to the door. His hand hovered over the door knob, another knock sounded. Louder this time. Turning the knob, he flung the door open.

It wasn't her.

Harry Mills stood in the doorway instead, eyes fixed in worry.

"Buster, are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down to look him straight in the eye.

Tears sprang into his eyes, "I don't know where she is. She didn't come home," he choked.

Pulling him into a tight hug, Harry ran a soothing hand down his back. "Did you call the police?" he asked softly.

Pulling away, Buster wiped his tears. "No, I thought she'd be back by now." Harry got back up, placed a firm hand on his shoulder and directed them back into the house. Taking out his phone, he pushed in three numbers and placed it against his ear.

Buster stopped paying attention. It was too much, it was becoming real. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be hurt. She had to be okay. She just had to be.


Pacing around the small bedroom, Buster counted his breaths. Back and forth, in and out. One, two, three… "Buster, everything's going to be alright. Just sit down," Arthur pleaded as he watched Buster's nervous behaviour from his own bed.

It had been 8 hours since the police started their search, they hadn't heard a single thing yet. How could anything be alright? Buster wanted to punch the wall. He wanted lay on the floor and laugh hysterically. He wanted to curl up and sob. But all he did was walk. Back and forth, Back and forth.

"You should eat something," Arthur tried.

As if on cue, Buster's stomach growled loudly, his hand instinctively covering it. "I can't, I'll throw it up if I eat," he explained quietly.

Sighing, Arthur got up from his bed and placed himself in front of Buster. Putting both hands on his shoulders, he forced him to stop pacing.

"Whatever happens, I'll always be here for you."


They found her car. Two days after she was reported missing, her car turned up parked at the edge of town. There was no sign of foul play, windows were intact. Locks weren't tampered with. Her keys were still in the ignition, her purse in the passenger seat. A bag of takeout beside it.

Yet, she was still missing.

Arthur and Buster stood, ears to the wall as Harry and Arthur's parents talked to the two officers in the Read's living room. They had no leads. There was absolutely no evidence found in the car or at the house. It was as if she just vanished.

"This is a very peculiar case," they heard an officer say, "not a single eye witness, not a shred of evidence, not a clue. We are trying our best here, but there is only so much we can do."

Buster's breath hitched as his mind whirled to life. Something about what the officer had said clicked.

His mom's recent article that she had been tirelessly investigating had been about missing persons. Hundreds of people from across the country. Not a shred of evidence. It was as if they had vanished.

Buster had been trying to convince his mom that they had been abducted by aliens. It was the only logical explanation. She had laughed at his sense of logic and kissed his cheek, telling him how cute he was.

He backed away, eyes wide. Arthur noticed his sudden movement and turned his head to look at him. Without any indication, Buster turned at his heel and ran out of the house.

Moments later Arthur caught up, gripping his shoulder to halt his maniacal sprint. "Buster! What are you doing!" he yelled, trying to catch his breath.

Buster met his eyes, and wildly waved his hands. "I know what happened!" he yelled, trying to get free.

Arthur pulled him back, "Tell me then," he said calmly.

Buster stopped his struggling and licked his dry lips. "I need to get to the car, the police don't know what to look for." he said, trying not to sound too rushed.

Arthur gave him a quizzing look, "Please elaborate," he asked. Buster closed his eyes in frustration, he knew Arthur wasn't going to believe him. But, this time, Buster was right. He knew it, they got her.

"Aliens. The police won't be able to tell," he whispered. Arthur didn't say anything, Buster kept his eyes closed and tried to free his shoulder but to no avail. He finally opened his eyes to meet his best friend's. He was surprised to find tears forming in the corners.

"Buster," he said quietly, "don't do this to yourself."

Slumping his shoulders Buster fell to his knees. "You don't understand, she was getting too close. I have to do something."

Arthur sank down on the side walk with him, wrapped his arms around Buster and cried. His own eyes welled up, shoulders began to unwillingly shake as unrelenting sobs tore through his throat.


There was a knock on his door, he could barely hear it over the whir of his computer. "Come in!" he shouted.

Walking in, his dad stepped over the various piles of books and papers. His research. "Hey buddy, just wanted to check if you're all packed," he said, voice trying to sound cheery as he stood behind him. Buster nodded, his bags were already downstairs. He was staying over at Arthur's again since his dad had to get back to work. He had offered to take him along, but Buster had missed enough school.

For the past three months, Arthur's house had become more of a home to him than this one. At least when he was there he had some distraction. Arthur tried his best to bring a sense of normalcy back into his life. Here, her presence lingered in every corner.

Here, he lost himself to his research. Alien sighting, abductions, conspiracy theories, you name it. Buster had read it. He even called up a few professionals across the globe. Talked to individuals who claimed to have been abducted, but he was getting nowhere. Every lead turned up cold.

The police were no help, the case was still open, but Buster knew they were no longer trying. He just had to keep digging, she was counting on him.


It was past midnight, Arthur would be sleeping. But he couldn't wait. Jogging the familiar path to his friend's house, still dressed in pajamas, Buster's heart pounded.

This was it, he finally had something.

Turning through the gate, Buster picked up a pebble and threw it at Arthur's window. Moments later, it slid open. "Buster? What's wrong?" Arthur asked in a panicked voice.

"Shh!" he said, placing a finger against his lips, "come down."

He sat down on the steps as he waited for the front door to open, flipping through the stapled printout in his hands.

"What's up?" Arthur warily inquired as he sat down beside him.

Buster waved the papers in his face. "I finally found something!" he explained excitedly. Arthur bit his lip as he stared at him, searching his face. Buster ignored the look and directed his attention to his findings.

"It's a way to contact the aliens, it's theoretical but I think it might work" he started, "There's step by step instructions on how to build the device." He didn't turn to look at Arthur's expression, but he heard the small sad sigh.

"Buster"

"It seems a little complicated, but I'm sure Brain would help if I asked really nicely," he stated as he flipped to a blueprint, the words on the page were making him dizzy.

"Buster"

"We could use the treehouse as a base since we don't really go up there anymore." Scratching his chin at the idea, 'it would have to do' he thought. It was a little old and broken down but he would work with what he could get.

"Buster"

"I don't have much money for the parts but I can ask my Dad for some, maybe Muffy can help," he said, running his finger through the extensive list.

"Buster! Snap out of it." Arthur yelled, startling him out of his frenzied musings. Buster turned to look at the boy, his eyes were glazed as if he was holding back tears. There was an aged sadness resting within them.

Putting the papers down, "Arthur, I have to try," he stated stubbornly. He was so close.

"This isn't going to work, your mom was not abducted by aliens. You're driving yourself insane!" His best friend screamed, getting up to his feet, arms gesturing wildly.

Buster felt a piercing pain in his gut. He jumped up off the step with a surge of anger, "She was!" he screamed back, "Why can't you just believe me, what kind of friend are you anyway?"

Taking a deep breath, "no she wasn't," Arthur said calmly. He placed his hands on Buster's shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes, "your mom was taken by humans. The police connected it to an existing case. She's gone, you need to move on. Please."

No, they were wrong.

Jerking the hands off of him he backed away. "They just said that so they could close the case, there was nothing similar about the kidnappings and my mom's disappearance." His voice was cold, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately, I can't even recognize you anymore." Arthur stepped closer, struggling to keep himself collected. Buster faltered at the statement. He had noticed it, it was impossible not to, but he chose to ignore the changes. He could only focus on one thing at a time.

"Arthur please, just listen," he tried again, pleading with all his might. He turned to grab the papers, maybe if he just read them…

Firmly, Arthur grabbed his forearm to stop his movement. He shook his head, "No, you need to stop."

Buster stared at him. They stood for an eternity, Arthur's grip never loosening, desperately trying to reel him back to earth. Something in Arthur's expression cracked the thick walls Buster had spent the last six months building.

Suddenly feeling defeated, his body slumped, unable to withstand the weight any longer. "I can't."

Directing them back to the stairs, Arthur pulled him down. "Just try, for me. For your dad. For all of us around that love you. Please, give this up. It isn't healthy," he whispered.

"I'm so close," Buster sniffled. Arthur brought his hand to his head and carefully nudged it down to rest on his shoulder.

"I know," he said softly.

"She can't be gone," Buster choked.

"I know."

"It's not fair, she promised she would always be here." His vision blurred, eyelids slid tightly shut.

"I know."

END FLASHBACK

"I gave up my research that night, but I never let go of the belief. Arthur had to talk me back down every time I got too 'crazy' or woke up screaming from the nightmares. But I got better."

Staring at his gloved hands, Danny listened, his heart shattering a million times over with every word. In moments like this, he felt utterly small. His daily effort seemed meaningless. The world was too big, he could never save everyone.

Turning to face him, Danny floated an inch above the ground and waited. Buster, still lying in the grass, remained silent, occasionally bringing his fingers up to wipe away unwelcome tears. There was a calculating look etched across his face.

Realizing that the recount was over, Danny sat up and ran a hand through his wild white hair, "you still think they have her," he observed.

Meeting Danny's eyes, "I did before I met you," Buster confessed quietly.

Danny was confused, "What do you mean?" he asked as he scratched his head.

"I've never found any concrete evidence of an alien attack in my months of researching," Buster explained, "It all counted on leaps of faith. But here, the ghosts are pretty hard to deny."

Quirking his lips as he shifted his legs into his spectral tail, he floated out in front of him, "I can't argue with you there." Buster raised his eyebrow with the faintest hint of a smile.

"There was an invasion only a week ago. Danny says it happens often," he stated, sounding thoughtful.

Danny narrowed his eyes, growing uncertain of the direction the conversation was heading, "I guess so."

"So…Amity Park is not the only place in the world that ghosts can appear. Is it?" He asked eagerly, a glimmer of hope sparkling in his broken eyes.

Danny bit his lip, he wanted to derail the thought right then and there but he couldn't find the strength to lie. "No, we just have a pretty stable portal. Natural portals appear all over space and time," he explained, cringing at the growing excitement exuding off of Buster.

"So it isn't far-fetched to say that a ghost could be going through these portals and taking things back with them?"

This was bad, Danny knew it was bad. But Buster was right, it was completely possible. "Um…I guess not," he reluctantly mumbled.

Buster sat upright, the hope in his eyes so bright that it was blinding, "I think I was wrong this whole time," he concluded. "My mom wasn't abducted by aliens. She was kidnapped by a ghost."

Danny was speechless, how could he have let it get this far. His heart sank as he thought about the theory. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, he didn't want to stand there watching the ray of hope die. "Buster…I… I can't deny that it's plausible. But it's highly unlikely," he finally stumbled out.

Jerking his head upward to look him in the eye, Buster lowered his eyebrows in anger. "Phantom, don't give me that. I've seen the ghosts. I know what they are capable of," he defended stubbornly.

Taking in a deep breath, Danny prepared himself. "I know, but you're suggesting that a ghost has been kidnapping humans across the country and harbouring them in the ghost zone."

Nodding firmly, "Yes," he confirmed. The fiery determination was intimidating, even for Danny, but he stood his ground.

"It's not possible, I would have noticed," he stated, equally as firm.

Buster grit his teeth. Crossing his arms, "have you seen the whole zone?" he challenged as he raised an eyebrow.

Floating in front of him, Danny mildly glared at the hard-headed boy. With a relenting sigh, "No," he confirmed. His legs reappeared as he dropped himself back down, knees on the cold ground, facing the boy.

Buster's expression softened, the anger dissipated. Pulling his coat closer to himself, "So, there's a possibility," he whispered, "There is always a possibility."

Danny had never seen him look so small and broken. "It's been a year, humans can't survive in that environment for very long. Even if your theory is right…it might be too late," he quietly explained, voice slightly tremoring.

Fresh tears sprang to Busters eyes at the new information, "I have to try!" he exclaimed in denial. Reaching out, he tightly gripped Danny's forearms, "Please help me Phantom, there has to be a way." His desperate request was so passionate that Danny's own eyes watered. He wanted to help him. What kind of hero would he be if he didn't even try?

He stared at Busters pleading face as his mind reeled, planning and calculating various possible ways of helping that would not prove to be too dangerous. Suddenly, an idea popped into head. It was simple and relatively safe but he didn't know if it would work.

Danny swallowed thickly, "there is something I'm willing to try," he tentatively offered.

Buster released his grip, sagging down in relief. "Anything."

Looking at him sternly, "I'm not certain it'll work," he disclosed.

"I don't care," Buster said wiping away the moisture covering his face. An awkward smile stretching across his dry lips.

"You have to promise me that you're going to let go after this," Danny requested, placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

"I promise," the boy whispered after a moment of thought. Danny regarded him, hoping that his plan would bring Buster some well-deserved peace, he sighed.

"Meet me here tomorrow night."