I own nothing! Yes, somehow, this chapter wrote itself, amazingly. It wasn't even that much work compared to my last chapter!

I shuddered, and tried to reassure myself. "Uh, well, I'm sure everything will be back to normal by tomorrow." But I knew I was just trying to convince myself. I would probably be wrong.

Chapter 25: What if?

That night, as Danny lay in bed, everything he had done began to catch up with him. He had lied again. He had told himself, he had promised Jazz, that he would tell Mom and Dad. He hadn't. He was too afraid to. That had to be it. He couldn't do anything about it. All he was was a worthless ghost. He walked down to the lab, picking up the emerald colored ectoranium, and clenching his fist tight around it. It burned his body, and his fingers cramped tight around it. It didn't make sense. He was a ghost's mind inside a human's body. He had a pulse, and he breathed, but he was dead. He remembered something, a lecture by Jack, about ghosts. Jack had said that a ghost's appearance was shaped by his emotions. If a ghost received massive alterations in self-concept, the ghost could alter on a massive scale both its appearance, and its powers.

What if? It was a question which had begun many different, dangerous threads of thought. What if Danny's body wasn't Real-Danny's body? What if Real-Danny died in the machine, and his body was decomposing in the ghost zone? What if the body Fake-Danny had was merely a physical representation of his mental state? He thought he had Real-Danny's body, so he looked like Real-Danny. Maybe that was why he really reacted to the ectoranium. He was fake. Danny sunk to his knees for the second time in two nights, struggling with his new self-concept. He was terrible. He looked at his fingers, knowing that, now that he really knew, he might become hideous, and how would he ever hide in school?

He stopped that line of thought quickly. He would wear gloves, he decided, as he looked into a shiny Fake-Danny reflection. It occurred to him that Star, Paulina's satellite, might love to have something like the ability to alter her appearance depending on how she thought of herself. As long as she thought, truly believed, that she was beautiful, not even Paulina would be able to keep up. A weak laugh passed his lips as he judged himself in the mirror, now looking for the flaws that had to show he wasn't Real-Danny. He pulled up his sleeve, and observed the burn marks on his hand, cause of death, extreme radiation and ectoplasm. He looked himself over. When he paid close attention, he looked like he had a greenish tint under his skin. The ectoplasm. His eyes…weren't they a bit off? His skin was paler, and his hair was seemingly darker. Were his hands malformed? His legs? He looked so closely, it would have been impossible to not notice tiny things.

He was dead. The thought alone must have altered his self-perception: he stopped breathing. He choked, gasped, even though he was sure he was just doing that because he thought he should. Finally, as black dots shifted through his vision, the blockage in his throat went away, and he resumed breathing. He waited, and finally, trailed his way upstairs, all the way to bed. What should he do? The best idea seemed to be to cast himself into the Zone. How could he live (hah), though, knowing that Real-Danny was gone, that everyone who used to love Danny loved a dead mass of ectoplasm? He didn't sleep at all.

The next day, as Danny wandered down the stairs, he noted that his ribs no longer hurt. He still hadn't made a decision as to what to do. He ate barely any of the cereal in his bowl, and barely noticed when he toppled off his chair, hitting the floor hard. He simply got up, and gathered his schoolbooks. Finally, he knew the bus would be there in about five minutes, so he started to head to the door, before changing directions. He didn't know why he walked down to the lab then. His feet led him there. Nor did he know exactly why he walked to the tall rack Jack was planning on taking down, the one that had all the latest Fenton gadgets. He didn't really know much of anything until his right hand curled slowly around the metallic, curved handle of a Fenton pistol. His mind automatically recalled the information Jack had practically pounded into his head through constant ranting. This pistol held enough firepower to take down ten ghosts with no reloads. It could blast through a metal door. It was also loaded. Perfect. He put it inside his pack, inside a lunch box. It was small. Nobody would see it. He left his sandwich on the counter.

He had a plan from the second his hand had grasped it. He would wait until lunch, find a distraction, and leave for either the boys' locker rooms or the bathroom. He would take out the gun, aim for his chest, and pull the trigger. He had heard tales about people surviving shots to the head, but never about surviving shots to the heart. It would be over fast, assuming a shot like that could kill a ghost. He couldn't wait until after school, because he was supposed to go to the park with Sam and Tucker, who might soften his resolution. He couldn't do it now. If he wasn't fast enough, he might be carried to the hospital before he could finally stop. If he did it at school, while everyone was at lunch, few people, if any, would notice the sound without dismissing it. He could end before anybody could stop him.

He hurried upstairs, arriving at the bus on time, and sitting in the back. He wouldn't walk with Sam and Tucker to get there. There were the usual noises on the bus, but no fights broke out. They had, a few times. Danny was sure that Mr. Terrace had a superhuman tolerance level, in addition to superhuman concentration. And the fact that he was a little deaf. Danny listened, and tuned people out. He pitched out of the bus, and started on his way to the school doors, before he realized what his friends had done. His gaze flickered over the two crowds, one pro-ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, the other meat lovers, each struggling to stop the lunch catastrophe that had been yesterday, or attempting to continue it.

He recollected what he'd said yesterday about his friends being less mad today, and couldn't stop himself from muttering, "Or not. Maybe it'll be worse." Returning to a more audible tone, he addressed his friends, who had come closer, probably to see which side he was on. "You managed to gather together two protests in one night?" What more could he say? It was pretty amazing.

Tucker declared proudly, "Meat eaters, Danny. Always ready to fight. And our high-protein diets give us the energy to do whatever it takes quickly." Danny gulped. Tucker was trying to get him to agree. Really, his friends were very extreme. He grimaced, and waited for Sam to add something.

Sure enough, Sam wound up saying, "Ultra Recyclo Vegetarians are always ready to protest. And because we don't have to waste time cooking our food, we can move even faster." Danny now fought to avoid groaning. Sam would kill him if he did that. Even if he was planning suicide, he didn't want the death she would give him.

"Don't you guys think this is a little bit extreme?" Danny commented, watching their expressions. He hoped they wouldn't yell at him.

"No choice, buddy. Either you're with me," Tucker started, before Sam finished.

She was annoyed. "Or you're against him." Danny blinked, struggling to keep up with it, before realizing what they were saying.

Both Tucker and Sam yelled simultaneously, "So who's side are you on?" Directly into his ears. He winced, and didn't answer. This was why super hearing was bad for people.

School was normal, other than the protests outside, so everyone was grumbling about how the teachers couldn't shut down everything because of such a loud protest. No mercy was given, and Danny was left waiting until lunch, and getting odd looks from his classmates and teachers, probably because he looked so serene. He had made his decision. He wouldn't go back on it.

===(Lunch outside)===

The teachers had decided that because it was such a nice day outside, everyone would eat out there. The protesters were giving out free food as well, so that was a benefit. Some people said that they should have protests more often. Danny agreed, even if the only food he got for himself was a small piece of steak. He didn't really need to eat it, but Tucker had insisted. Danny got up, making a quick excuse. He said he needed to go to the bathroom.

Tucker and Sam believed him, and he quickly travelled across the lawn of the place, and walked through the doors. He made it all the way to the lockers. Hopefully, it would be harder to hear the shot fire. He sat down on a bench, wrote a quick note explaining some things, and cocked the trigger, propping the gun against the region of his chest that held his heart. Now that it came down to the moment, he wondered if he should really do this. His heart was pounding (was that even possible for him, a pitiful ghost?) The doubt lasted only a split second, before he allowed his finger to tighten around the trigger.

Just before he could pull it all the way, just as he began to feel the tingly ectoplasm inside the gun charging, he heard screams. Panicky screams. His head shot up, and he listened closely. Nobody was there, freaking out over the gun pressed against his chest, but the door to the locker room was open. He didn't know why. He could swear he had closed it. He finally decided to investigate. He put the gun back inside his pack, and took off for the doors. Oddly enough, every door and window appeared to be open as he travelled along. Who could have possibly done all that in such a short amount of time? It was protocol to leave the windows closed, except on blisteringly hot days of summer school. He raced to the main doors, and came into a world of chaos. Everyone was running, scattering in all directions. Danny determined the source of the panic quickly, in the form of the largest, and second meat monster he had ever seen.

He scanned the scene again, before racing to his friends, and saying, "Guys. Time to make up. NOW!" They looked upset for a second, before they realized what he was hinting towards. He might as well save their school one more time before he ended it all. They hugged, and Danny, half-crushed in the middle, transformed, white rings encircling him, transforming him into an ethereal being, glowing faintly, even in the light of an afternoon sun.

"He really is getting better." He could hear Sam say, as he sent his best blows straight towards the mega-meat-monster. Listening to Sam was an action that led to his downfall, or maybe, more accurately, his uprise, because he lost track of where the Lunch Lady's fist was, and, when it clocked into him, he went sailing, straight up.

He could vaguely hear Tucker say something about punches, before he turned himself intangible, barely avoiding slamming into an aircraft, instead going through it. On his way back down, he could hear a flight attendant offer a man a drink. He grabbed the drink as he went through, and yelled, "Thanks!" How was he supposed to resist?

He slammed into the ground, creating a mini-pit as he crashed. It took him a few moments to regain focus, and he noted that he was super durable. That could be useful if ever Dash decided to punch him hard. He started to pull himself up, prepared to fight, before he heard something completely unexpected.

"Oh, dear, what a mess, are you okay?" It was the Lunch Lady, and she sounded genuinely concerned. Danny guessed differently, considering how bipolar she was, but answered anyway.

"Yeah. I think so." He groaned a little, annoyed with himself for being so weak. It occurred to him that he could transform to Fenton form, and stay still while she killed him. He pushed that idea away. He had a job to complete.

"Tough. Because you being okay is not part of my balanced diet of doom." As she yelled that part, pieces of meat formed into mini-meat-monsters, (meat-children?) and they attacked him. It took barely five seconds for Danny to jump, give a rotating kick, and tear apart the monsters.

They promptly reformed, shocking Danny, while grabbing him and pulling him high into the air. "Wasn't expecting that!" A second later, he returned to human form, and the creatures, giving him a remarkable intelligent look, let go, sending him hurtling ground wards. "Or that!" Danny saw a familiar looking weapon, the Fenton Thermos, sailing through the air, straight towards him. He just barely caught it. "The Fenton Thermos! But how am I gonna get it to work?" He added, recalling that is sucked up ghosts, containing them. Then he remembered that he was still descending. "Change back! Change back!" He changed back, and called out after him, "Thanks for the thermos!" knowing Jack would hear him.

He landed in front of the Lunch Lady, and started to prepare the thermos as well as he could. "No! Soup's not on today's menu!" The woman yelled.

"I'm changing the menu! Permanantly!" He grinned, before he remembered that he hadn't listened closely enough to the lecture to know exactly how to work the thermos. He hit the green button, and hoped with all of his might that he was right. "Please work! I hope I'm right!" A beam of blue light shot out, engulfing the Lunch Lady, and sucking her in as she screamed.

"What happened? Where's the ghost?" Tucker called, running up. Nobody was there now, except Tucker, Sam, Jazz and Danny's parents, everyone else having fled the ghost.

"My parents have their moments!" Danny smiled, the warm glow of accomplishment still lighting him up as he transformed back to human. Seconds later, his dad and mom came around the corner with Jazz, running the Fenton Finder.

:Ghost directly ahead! You would have to be some sort of moron to not notice the ghost located directly ahead.: The robotic voice pulled Danny's head out of the clouds and back down to earth with a jolt as he remembered his plan. The gun in his pack called for him, and now that the danger was over, he could finish the job.

Dad was not going to stop him. "Ah, sorry, Dad. You just missed him." Danny pointed behind himself.

"We got a runner!" Jack and Maddie took off at a run, planning on catching the ghost, shoving him aside, and causing him to land on the ground.

"Great. Back to square one." He heard the distinct grumble of his sister, still determined to not believe in ghosts. "Danny, are you hurt much?" She raced over, checking him, because she'd seen Danny fall over, and he had several scratches all over his body. Not deep ones, luckily.

"Don't worry. They're small." She was hugging him, and he found himself relaxing into the hug, before reminding himself that he was just a ghost. He didn't deserve hugs. He drew back, quickly. She seemed to wilt on the spot, sure as she had been that their relationship had mended. She rolled to her feet after giving him another few seconds, and then ran away, sadness expressing itself as anger.

"So, you're not gonna tell them?" Tucker asked, looking worried, as Jazz moved away quickly. He had thought the two siblings were close.

Danny stared after her, body aching, watching her disappear. Could he really kill himself? Could he really hurt Jazz worse than he had already? Could he bring himself to pull the trigger, and hurt the people who had done so much for Real-Danny? His resolution wavered. The least he could do for them, just for now, was to pretend. If he could pretend, they wouldn't know the difference, and he wouldn't have to hurt them. He made a quick decision. He would hold on, just until next week. Then, he would decide. Until then… "Nah…I think I might have finally figured out what these powers are for. They make me…" He was planning on finishing his sentence with the words, be able to keep people from getting hurt, but he was interrupted.

"You are in for a world of trouble!" Lancer growled, gripping Danny by his shirt collar. Danny gulped, remembering his ditching-detention act. The punishment was not going to be fun.

The punishment wound up being cleaning up everything with the help of Sam and Tucker, who respectively picked up meat and "garbage". Dash watched, and Danny, unable to resist, did something he had really wanted to see happen. He turned the garbage bin intangible, and it promptly dumped its load onto Dash. Dash might try to beat him, but it would be worth it.

Meat punishment.

Danny being a hypochondriac. Poor kid. I torture him far too much. If you couldn't tell, I altered some of the timing, because I liked it better that way.

-MiaulinK