He didn't stop himself to think about it often, because if he did the thought that he he… he died would eat him. The memory of it already ate at him, the stress tore at him. Ha he thought it was stressful before. Now now…. He's half ghost or something and and… his parents are ghost hunters you know? And they, they never really softened any words for their kids so he knows exactly what they thought about ghosts.
What they would do if they got their hands on a ghost. A shiver raked down his spine at the jovial glimmer in his father's eyes when he spoke of taking a ghost apart molecule by molecule. The glee his mother expressed when one of their very painful inventions turned out working.
The panic when his powers start acting up when they are anywhere near him, mean he sinks into the floor, an appendage going invisible, he, he loves his parents he swears but… but now he can't help the cold dread at being in the room with them when they go on and on about ghosts, the only thing they talk about of a daily basis.
The cold ball of fear when they bring their inventions anywhere close to him. The manic glee when they describe what they do. He loves them, he swears he does, they're his family but life had beat the optimism out of him at a young age and he knows what would happen if they found out. Oh he knows too well and it fills his nightmares at night, makes him shake until he thinks he'll shake himself apart at the seams.
So he… for lack of a better word, trains. He can't go invisible or go through things by accident. He can't let anyone know about this. He can't let anyone find out. No one. So learning control was a necessity. Learning how to make his hair white and eyes greens and make his inverted hazard suit appear in the aptly named 'ghost form' was… well necessary.
He… he knew that if he ever ended up going to the hospital or anything that all that ectoplasm in him would be seen, they'd see he's different, they'd see him as an anomaly and be shipped off somewhere and maybe… maybe dissected like his parents want to do.
He dreams of that too sometimes. Sometimes they know it's him, sometimes they just think he's another ghost, they just have him strapped down in the basement and talk about the best way to cut him open and then- then they bring out the sharp, oh so sharp knives and… and..and…
Shooting up in a cold sweat, Danny threw himself over the edge of the bed to retch into the trash can set aside for instances like god, oh god. His mind still whirring on the imagery of his mind, mixing the memory of the excruciating pain from the accident with the imaginary betrayal of his parents. Stomach in knots and breath shallow, the nightmare kept a firm grasp on him. So many sleepless nights like this.
It was in the time of his recovering that he froze a moment before transforming to his other self, quickly throwing himself at the shadow in his room, through the wall and outside into the night. Slamming the ghost to the ground, he bounced up into the sky away from him, "Skulker, bit early this week…"
The hulking ghost of a hunter brushed himself off and sent a slanted grin towards him, "Never too early to go after your pelt whelp!" He shot a net up into the sky from his gauntlet, easy enough for Danny to dodge before making a nose dive to the ground, landing silently on the pavement, "... It's late, this is the second time this week, I really don't want to waste the energy fighting right now man. I like these play dates and all but…"
With a woosh and dodge, Danny avoided the fist aimed at his head, retaliating with flares of ecto energy radiating from his hands, beams flashing at the hunter as Skulker fired a series of darts at him. "O-kay guess the hard way," The half ghost muttered, preparing himself for a rough fight.
It was an hour later that an exhausted Danny returned to bed, too tired to dream and mind about his injuries too much. Skulker seemed to take it easy on him tonight, he giggled lightly at the thought of Skulker doing it on purpose.
After all the few ghosts that manage to get into Amity from the Ghost Zone all seemed to clue in on some of his feelings… Like if he has a nightmare when Skulker is around he usually forces Danny into a fight that's more like a spar of trading blows before leaving, none too much worse for wear. Hell Danny would even admit that he looked forward to it, one of the fews things he looked forward to nowadays between the ever constant paranoia of having his secret found out, and the ever present stress of keeping up on school with his bouts of insomnia and nightmares...