Chapter Eighteen: Valerie and Danny Yell at Each Other Until They Feel Better

"I want to be the 'Tuck Master,'" Tucker said. He, Danny, Sam, and Jazz were in Danny's room. Technus was tucked under the bed, and the four of them were making themselves comfortable on Danny's bed and (in Jazz's case) his desk chair. "Or maybe I should be 'Destroyer of Worlds.'" Tucker stroked his chin.

"Why do we need codenames again?" Jazz asked, examining the map in front of them. It was a rather detailed replica of Amity—large and complete with every single street name. Although Google Maps would have something similar, Danny found the physical copy easier for their purposes.

"We don't," Sam deadpanned. Tucker pouted at her.

"You're no fun," he said.

"Tucker," Danny said, "we're notcalling you 'Destroyer of Worlds.' You can barely destroy targets directly in front of you, never mind worlds." It was a jab at the gaff his friend had made earlier; he'd been trying out some new pistol-type model ectogun and had completely missed. At least five times in a row. Tucker put a hand over his heart.

"You wound me. And you're supposed to take my side—not hers. We're bros." He leaned forward to watch as Danny marked the location of the mainstays on the map. Danny noticed he looked tired—and so did Sam. Now that they knew the GIW weren't watching them, the two had taken to going out to hunt the low-level ghosts that tended to drift through unstable, naturally occurring portals. There weren't many, however—there weren't a ton of ghosts in general, what with the Empress. And the half-ghost suspected he looked no better. His late-night training sessions were doing their job.

"Danny and I are actual siblings," Jazz said in her best matter-of-fact voice. It was the one she used when she presented her various theses to unwilling audiences (mainly Danny). "That trumps bros. And I vote no codenames. Who's going to hear us over the Fenton phones, anyway?"

"Three nays and one aye—the nays have it," Sam commented. She tapped the map, looking at Danny. Her eyebrow rose. "Why did you bring this out, again?"

"Memorization purposes," Danny said. "When the Empress shows up, the plan is for me to teleport to each mainstay and activate it—but if that doesn't work, you guys are the back-up plan. Each of us will take one, so we all need to know where the closest one to us is." Sam's lips puckered, as though she'd tasted something sour. Danny shared similar sentiments; why hadn't his parents made it so the portal could be remote-activated? Instead, each support had to be activated individually.

They'd decided against activating it early for a few reasons. The shield, once up, would only have energy to last so long before it turned off—maybe a week or two before the mainstays' power cores had to be replaced. There was no reason to activate it so early only for it to fail when the Empress actually came. They also didn't want the GIW—or his parents—interfering. Knowing how un-seriously they'd taken Phantom's warnings, Danny didn't think they'd simply allow him to use their technology for something they didn't consider a threat.

"This one's closest to my house," Sam said, pointing to one of the northern-most mainstays. "If something happens, I can get this one." Danny nodded, making note of that on the map.

"Right. And this one is closest to your house, Tucker," the half-ghost said.

"There's a small problem. How am I supposed to get there? Steal my dad's car?" he joked. Then, as the other three continued to look at him, he frowned. "No. No way. I can't take my dad's car! I only borrow it for small things—with his permission!" His voice was oddly panicked for something so banal in the face of the Empress. It was like someone panicking about losing their wallet in the midst of a house fire.

"Can you do it for the end of the world?" Sam asked. Her words were serious but her tone was not. Danny put his arm on Tucker's shoulder. His friend turned to stare at him.

"We all have to make sacrifices," the half-ghost said, mock serious. "This is yours, Tucker." He couldn't keep it in anymore—he grinned. Tucker shoved his hand off playfully and pretended to sulk.

"I guess." He sighed dramatically. "If it means saving the world. But because my sacrifice is far greater than any of yours—" Here Jazz made a noise of protest. "—I demand that you call me the 'Tuck Master' in gratitude." Sam was shaking her head before he finished the sentence.

"Absolutely not. We just voted that down—"

Danny let the words wash over him. It felt nice to be here planning with them. They weren't working somewhere far away or learning some earth-shattering thing about a new threat. They didn't have to calm Danny down from a panic attack. The half-ghost had still managed to avoid telling them about his last one. He'd only told them his parents no longer thought he was a criminal and that they weren't taking the Empress very seriously. Neither of which were lies, technically.

But here, sitting with them, joking around as they figured out how they were going to fix this mess… It felt right, more right than it had in a long time. Like Danny had found the pieces to a puzzle he'd lost. Or even simply an approximation, soothing the holes inside him. This reminded him of simpler times—when he'd been falling through floors and wondering how he was going to pass his algebra exam. It was nice.

"Come on, guys," he said, trying to reign them in. Maybe this was what teachers felt when they were attempting to get their students to focus. "We really should figure this out." He couldn't quite keep the amusement or fondness from his voice, though. He felt more relaxed than he had in a while. His parents may have been down the hall, and the Empress was on her way… But his friends were bickering as usual—and by his side.

"Danny's right," Jazz said. Tucker openly rolled his eyes. "We need to pay attention."

"Sometimes I forget you two are related," he said, "and then something like this will happen."

"Ha. Ha," Danny muttered. He wondered what he'd done to deserve friends like them—if he even did deserve friends like them. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that dark thought, though, so the half-ghost pushed his conflicted feelings away and focused.

It was time to get down to business.


Amity Times

VICE MAYOR SHARON JONES STEPS UP

by Maurice Foley

Until Mayor Vlad Masters is found, Amity Park can count on its vice mayor, Sharon Jones, to run the city. Acting as interim mayor for the foreseeable future, Mayor Jones promises to act with "all the dignity and integrity" befitting a mayor-ship.

"I'm hoping to help restore order in these troubled times," she said at a press conference. "I know we're all missing Mayor Masters, but I will do what's right for the people of this city."

Jones' record reveals that she has years of experience working in state government: before becoming vice mayor, she worked in state legislature. A long-time Democrat, she has a history of passing bi-partisan bills and a reputation as a peacemaker. Prior to her career in government, she taught political science at Amity Park University.

When asked what she was planning on doing with the "Phantom situation," Mayor Jones responded: "Preceding his disappearance, Mayor Masters declared Amity Park in a state of emergency. Despite this, Governor Snyder has not provided our city with any kind of assistance. Nor has the federal government stepped in to help us—save for the Ghostly Investigation Ward. However, now that the existence of ghosts has been revealed to the world at large, I intend to press the matter. Amity Park won't be written off any longer. As for Phantom directly, I know our own police department has been investigating the matter and have currently not found any evidence pointing to Phantom being guilty of any crimes."

By confirming that Amity's own police have found the ghost boy to be innocent, Mayor Jones has set the tone for how other government officials will be interacting with Phantom. While relations between the police department and our resident half-ghost have always been generally amicable, there has been fear that re-shedding light on Phantom's "crimes" will end this positive relationship.

Mayor Jones also had a very firm stance on the GIW. "I find the GIW's conduct in our city to be despicable," she said. "I have demanded that the federal government take responsibility for its bureaucracy's actions and abuses of power. I will ask, though, that the citizens of Amity Park remain calm and peaceful, trusting that we will do everything in our power to undo the damage they have done.

"Despite this, we will be continuing with our plans to install a ghost shield around Casper High to ensure the safety of our children. Doctors Jack and Maddie Fenton, our resident ghost experts, are now heading this project."

Currently, the only building enabled with a ghost shield is the Fenton residence. With how frequently ghosts have attacked Casper High, for most it's not a question of "why" but "why not sooner"? There have been many local government officials who have been against the idea in the past. Mayor Masters himself rejected the proposal numerous times, citing costs.

While Mayor Jones may not have directly approved constructing the shield, she has already proven to have different stances than Mayor Masters. Only time will tell what exactly this means for Amity Park.


Valerie was frustrated. She was frustrated with many things: work, her dad, her situation, the world. At the present moment, however, her frustration was directed at the piece of paper in front of her. She sat at her desk, hunched and clutching a pencil so tightly she thought she might break it.

"I will beat you, derivatives," she muttered to the paper, running a hand through her frazzled hair. "But maybe not right now." She set the pencil down and stretched in her cramped room. There was hardly enough space for her dresser, desk, bed, and nightstand, much less room to straighten both her legs and arms. But she managed, yawning. She'd been giving herself a headache with Calculus for almost an hour now—better give it a break.

She left her desk lamp on so she could see and moved to lie down spread-eagle on her bed. Valerie sometimes liked to count the cracks in her ceiling, but doing that now would only depress her. When had her life gotten so—so complicated? She wanted to go back to the old days, where her biggest worry had been the next party someone was throwing.

Actually, maybe not. She'd been kind of a brat, after all. But it hadbeen better than this frustration.Frustration was a helpless sort of emotion, she'd found, and it made her feel trapped, like the close walls of her room were growing even closer. She sat up, looking out the window. It was a clear night; she could see the crescent moon and a few stars shining through the light pollution.

It had all started with the ghost boy. Phantom. Weeks had passed since she'd shot him, weeks spent on her ruminating. Sometimes, in passing moments, she almost felt… guilty. But she'd been justified. And, really, she didn't know howto feel about him anymore—first he'd been an evil ghost, then a criminal, and currently… Well, she knew evidence could be faked. But she didn't think it had been. That meant Phantom had never been a criminal—he'd been framed by the GIW, which made sense, she guessed. Valerie didn't exactly trust the government. But if the half-ghost was such a nice guy, why had he ruined her life? Spite? Some kind of personal grudge?

Valerie didn't know. Maybe she'd made fun of him at school. She had, regrettably, done that to a lot of kids. They'd been physically weak, considered geeks and losers and nerds, and she, with her social status, had cut into them with her words, bruising and battering their fragile self-worth. She felt bad for it, but that didn't exactly give Phantom the right to do what he'd done to her. He'd ruined her—and worse, he'd ruined her dad.

And now they lived in this crap apartment.

Her dad had yelled at her for what she'd done to Phantom, shouting about how terribly she'd acted.He's human! he'd said. He's a human boy and you shot him! He'd shouted until he was practically hoarse, and Valerie had taken it stoically. But she hadn't agreed. Maybe the half-ghost wasn't a criminal; he'd deserved it nonetheless, pay back for destroying her life and lying to her. Plus, she'd done it for her dad. They needed that money. And if she had to expose some shitty half-ghost's secret identity to get it…

Well. Valerie wasn't above doing that.

She was pulled from her thoughts as her ghost-radar went off. Her radar stretched only to the city limits and had a threshold for certain power-levels and higher. As much as she liked hunting ghosts, she needed her sleep. The Fentons were competent enough to take care of things like ectopuses—she couldn't be bothered to go out fighting at all hours.

Besides, her dad would kill her.

Valerie moved off her bed. She stepped lightly across her room and poked her head out the door. Deep, bear-like rumblings met her ears. Her dad was asleep. She grinned, retreating back into her room and shutting the door. He slept deeply, so he wouldn't hear her getting into her suit or opening the window to take off. If he noticed that she'd gone out at all, it wouldn't be until after she'd left—no chance of him stopping her. She might get another lecture when she came back, though.

It's odd, she thought, kneeling to retrieve her suit from her backpack on the floor. Ghost activity's been really quiet the past few weeks. It would've been a relief, but she suspected that something worse was happening if none of the ghosts were coming into Amity. She would've asked Masters, but… Aside from him being a crazy half-ghost, he was also missing. Apparently. He hadn't even bothered to tell her he was going on vacation.

She breathed a sigh of contented relief as the suit whirred in place over her skin. This, at least, was uncomplicated. Just her, a ghost, and the chase. Hopefully, with Phantom lying low, she'd be able to dispose of this ectoplasmic creep without his interference. She didn't want to deal with him right now, although she still wanted that reward. Damn the moral consequences. If she had to burn in the next life to give her dad a good run here on earth, she'd do it.

Valerie slid the window open all the way, clicking off her desk lamp. The streetlights below illuminated her way well enough. She was lucky her window was big enough for her to climb out completely. It was probably the only good thing about this wretched place. She leaped out, putting her feet together to activate her board. She pulled up maybe ten feet from the ground, rustling the bushes as she flew past.

Glancing down at her radar, she noted that the disturbance was maybe three miles away. The screen on her wrist reported that the signature was unknown, and there weren't any other ghosts approaching—not yet, anyway.

She hunkered low to her board and pushed it as fast as it would go. The Huntress was itching for a fight, some way to calm the raging storm of emotions inside her. She readied her weapons, flying through dark, quiet streets, past sleeping cars and silent houses.

Valerie heard the ghost before she saw it. It was screaming—but, oddly, it wasn't an angry scream. If she hadn't known any better, the Huntress would've said it was maddened, even mournful. And it was a name, too. Johnny. She had no idea who that was—some human who'd pissed the ghost off? Valerie wasn't sure.

The ghost was at the park. It had taken the form of a young woman with choppy green hair and pale, glowing skin. The light lit the monkey bars and park benches eerily. Its torn clothes and disheveled appearance made it worse, as if it was freshly dead and had just been murdered. And maybe it had, for all Valerie knew. It wailed as it lobbed powerful ectoblasts at playground equipment. Valerie watched as a couple plastic swings caught fire and melted, dripping onto the bark chips below. Its screaming was terrible, and Valerie was glad for her suit; it blocked some of the sound.

The ghost spotted her just as she aimed her wrist-gun to fire, dodging around Valerie's expertly placed shot. The blast made the grass behind the ghost smoke and smolder, and it glowered up at her from where it was floating, a blue ectoblast building in its hands.

"Human," it growled, lobbing the glowing orb at the huntress. Valerie flipped mid-air on her board, rolling to the side. The ball, still crackling with energy, missed and landed on a car parked on the side street. The hood dissolved, sizzling.

"Ghost," Valerie shot back, lifting her gun again. As she prepared to fire again, something popped into existence behind the ghost. Valerie adjusted her aim, wanting to be ready for this new threat—some kind of accomplice? The figure wore a black, skintight suit, well camouflaged against the darkness. Its bright aura kind of ruined the effect, however.

It was Phantom.

Valerie instantly felt disappointed—she had wanted a ghost fight. One where she didn't have to think about whether what she was doing was right or wrong. He always ruins everything for me. And since when has he been able to teleport with any sort of precision? But she felt a hungry eagerness rise in her, too: Phantom, surely, would put up more of a fight than this crazy thing. And if she caught him, like she had last time… That money was as good as hers—hers and her father's.

"Kitty?" the half-ghost—and wasn't that strange?—called. That must've been the ghost's name. He was in a loose fighting stance, and his hands were raised palm-out. Is this a fucking friend of his?"What are you doing?" The female-looking ghost whirled, a vicious snarl on its face. Its crimson eyes burned brighter as its anger grew, like red-hot coals in the night.

"You!" it shrieked, launching itself at him. Phantom, surprised, stumbled backward as it threw a punch at him, its fist trailing blue flames. "Where were you? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" It didn't give him a chance to respond as it aimed a kick at his chest, its high-heeled boots mean-looking in the gloom. Phantom easily dodged the wild attack. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

Phantom's expression was blatantly befuddled: his eyebrows were near his hairline, and his lips pursed. This didn't prevent him from blocking its following swings, each one more unhinged than the last. They had to be friends; there was no other reason for why he wouldn't have been expecting an attack. He hadn't yet noticed Valerie hovering above them—though the Huntress only gave it maybe a minute before he did. He wasn't exactly unobservant. Should she fire at them? Dispatch the ghost and then the half-ghost?

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Phantom grunted, kicking at the ghost's side. Unlike its own attack, his landed, and the ghost was sent flying to the right. The half-ghost finally caught sight of her, and his eyes widened. His fists ignited with ectoblasts, and Valerie was almost flattered. He clearly considered her more of a threat than the ghost.

"Hey, Phantom," she said, waving sarcastically as he stared up at her. "Having a good time with your friend?" He looked back at "Kitty" just in time for the ghost to land a solid punch to his stomach. He groaned, battered backward, before he fired one of his blasts, point-blank, into its face. It shouted, retreating a few feet to clutch at its cheek.

"The Empress wiped him from existence!" it screamed. Phantom watched it closely, obviously still not understanding why it was mad with him. Valerie couldn't say she understood either, but if the ghost wanted to go after him, she wasn't about to stop it. When it removed its hands, it had a nasty, glistening burn on its jaw. It would've been red and raw on a human; instead, it was juicy and green, like radioactive waste. "Johnny's gone, and it's YOUR FAULT!" It was almost a sob.

Kitty charged Phantom again, with a single-minded purpose, but the half-ghost didn't fly to meet it. Instead, he lurched backward, his legs forming a spectral tail to give him an extra boost of speed. He looked… sad, Valerie realized. His face had crumbled a little—but why? Who was Johnny? What the hell was this ghost chick talking about?

"You helped Dora!" the ghost yelled, trying to catch up with the half-ghost, who was staying just out of its reach. Why wasn't he attacking it? He could've already taken out his Fenton thermos and sucked it up by now. "Why can't you help us? YOU'RE HALF-GHOST, TOO! DO WE DESERVE YOUR PROTECTION LESS THAN THEM?" It threw an arm out to the buildings and the sleeping humans inside. "WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECTHIM?" Its words seemed to hit Phantom like an invisible wall, and he stopped flying away. The ghost reeled back its fist, ready to punch him again.

But as it moved in, he caught its wrists—oddly gentle—and pulled her close. Oh, God, Valerie thought, are they about to fucking kiss or something?That would be worse than seeing PDA in the halls at school. She'd definitely shoot them, then—ghosts making out was notsomething she wanted to see. She raised her gun again, tensing her legs for the chase.

Phantom didn't pull it in to kiss it, though. He simply… huggedit. It struggled briefly in his arms, but he shushed it. It shuddered, relaxing minutely into him. Then, something bizarre happened. Something Valerie thought was impossible.

The ghost began tocry. Not crocodile tears, meant to manipulate an unsuspecting human into offering sympathy. No—it was weeping. What had moments before been a murderous ball of rage had melted into something softer. Something more… human-like. Valerie was so stunned she let her gun drop completely, her jaw slack. Phantom released Kitty's wrists and wrapped his arms around it as it lowered its head onto his shoulder. It shook with the force of its own sobs, clutching at the back of his hazmat suit.

Never had the Huntress seen such baffling behavior from a ghost. It even looked as if water—actual tears—were coming from the ghost's eyes. That's impossible! Ghosts didn't have emotions—not like, not like peopledid. It was pretending; it had to be pretending. There was no other explanation.

She realized Phantom was talking to it, trying to calm it down. No way… No way in hell are those tears real.

"Shh, I know it hurts. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there." He was even rubbing its back, like he was comforting a living, breathing girl.But he wasn't—he had to have been falling for its tricks. Or something. Valerie's minds buzzed with curiosity—who was this "Johnny"? Or this "Empress"? She didn't know, but given the ghost's extreme reaction—even though it had to be fake…

The Huntress was at a loss for what to do. She'd never been in this situation before, and there seemed something wrong with firing on them now, though a part of her itched to do so. It was the perfect opportunity—they'd seemed to have forgotten about her and were distracted. Or, at least, she thought they were. Except she caught Phantom glancing up at her every few seconds, as if checking to make sure she wasn't doing anything suspicious. And wasn't that rich—he was the suspicious one, not her.

Valerie didn't know how long she simply watched them as they floated in place, embracing. She still wasn't certain as to what she should do. It was so, so, so weird.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Phantom asked the ghost gently, breaking the silence. It seemed to have relaxed a tad. Valerie wondered where its desire to "kill" Phantom had gone (could half-ghosts even be killed? She had never asked Dani). The ghost pulled back. Valerie blinked as she noted that its mascara—ghosts could wear make-up?—had smeared with its tears, giving it bruised-looking eyes.

It hiccupped and seemed to realize that it was still holding its "enemy" (if that's really what they were and not a secret couple or something). It released Phantom, its cheeks flushing green—the ghostly equivalent of a blush? No way. Ghosts didn't have emotions. The tears, the blush—it was all fake. Valerie wouldn't fall for its shit.

"What is there to tell?" the ghost asked. It sounded like rusty hinges creaking. Its red eyes had dulled. "She came to our lair—our island—demanding our surrender. We—" Its voice cracked. Phantom rested his hand over its. It almost looked like it wanted to pull away, but it didn't. "We refused. We tried to get away, maybe go to the Far Frozen, and she sent a couple of her goons after us; we weren't important enough for her to chase us herself. A natural portal opened up, leading here, but they would've come through with us… Johnny said he'd hold them off… Before I flew through, I watched them rip him apart and—and devour his core. He never got to—got to complete his Obsession. He never ascended…"

Enough of this bogus crap. Complete his Obsession? Ascending? What a load of bullshit. Valerie couldn't believe Phantom was buying this, even if he and "Kitty" were ghost friends or whatever. It was acting as though this "Johnny" had died.But "he'd" clearly been a ghost—it was lying. Science—all of the Fentons' research—and Valerie's own experience, pointed to ghosts being incapable of any emotion save hatred. She re-aimed a blaster at them, a large enough shot to send both flying. I'm going to get that prize money.

But Phantom hadn't been as engrossed in the conversation as she'd thought. In an instant, just as she'd pulled the trigger, he'd shoved the ghost behind him, raising his arms up to create a bright green shield. It easily deflected her blast, sending it fizzling to the ground below.

They glared up at her—the ghost, pretending to be "exhausted," and Phantom, wary. He watched her the way a wildebeest eyed a river it had to cross, knowing there were crocodiles in its depths.

"What is wrong with you?" Phantom demanded. He sounded genuinely offended. "I thought you at least would've waited until she was finished." The ghost seemed to curl up behind him, as though hoping for his protection. Valerie remembered its words: You're half-ghost, too! Do we deserve your protection less than them?

"I'm not waiting for some ghost's half-assed story," Valerie said. "I'm doing you a favor—you're obviously falling for its shit." She laughed derisively. "It's telling you some sob story so you'll protect it from me." Phantom didn't budge an inch, his eyes steely. The shield remained, unwavering. But the ghost behind him recoiled.

"That's not true, you fucking piece of human trash!" it yelled, its hands balling into fists. "Johnny really is—he really is—" It slumped, its face crumpling like a piece of paper. It couldn't seem to even finish its own story. It's such a bad liar. How is Phantom even buying this?

"Kitty, it's okay," Phantom soothed. He didn't once take his eyes off of Valerie, though, not even to glance back at the ghost. "I believe you. I can find you someplace safe, where the Empress won't be able to get you. For now, anyway."

"Safe?" the ghost cried. "I don't want safe. I want to tear apart that fucking bitch's core!" Its eyes heated once more with its rage. Its aura seemed to glow brighter. "I'll do it, I swear by the Observants I will."

"I believe you," Phantom reiterated calmly. "And I won't do anything to stop you, I promise." The ghost seemed to relax again at those works—and Jesus Christ, if it wasn't moody. Probably because it was over-acting to sell its lie. Valerie rolled her eyes under her helmet. Phantom was eating it up.

"Whatever, Phantom. Believe what you want," the Huntress said. She set her gun to its maximum strength and began her barrage to break his shield. If this didn't work, she'd try an ectoplasmic grenade. Or maybe one of her rockets—that could be fun. The sound of her blasts deafened her, and she could feel her gun warming, even with the protective layer of her suit. But she didn't let up. Phantom groaned, clearly pushing to keep the shield up. Tiny cracks appeared. The ghost behind him began gearing up for round two, its eyes blazing. Valerie could hear it speak, even over the onslaught.

"I never understood why you protect them when they treat you like this!" it shouted. The half-ghost replied, though he said the words too lowly for Valerie to hear. She watched closely as the charge in her gun began to drop from the green into the yellow and at last to the red. It was a battle of endurance—would her gun or his shield last longer? If she gave out first, she would be forced to waste precious seconds getting out a grenade or switching from her gun to her rockets. It would give Phantom time to counter-attack.

But if he gave out first… She smirked. He was as good as hers.

He yelled as more cracks appeared, widening into fissures. It wouldn't be long now. And then, before his shield broke, her gun gave. It powered down with a tired whine, like an overworked dog.

"Shit," Valerie cursed, scrambling to bring out one of the grenades from their compartment. Bomb him and net him—if he passed out, he'd probably turn human. That half-million was going to go to a new apartment, just see if it didn't.

Phantom, knowing what had happened, dropped the shield. But instead of flying away or charging her, like she'd expected, he whipped out his thermos. "Sorry," he said, turning around, "but you're in no shape to fight." At first Valerie thought he was talking to her, and then she saw the panic on the ghost's face, its mouth opened to say something—

But Phantom pressed the button, and in a flash of light, the ghost was sucked into his thermos. Valerie was surprised—again. Why had he gotten rid of his only ally? Even if the ghost had been weaker than him, two against one were better odds than one against one. Stupid half-ghost, distracting me again!She fumbled, finally getting out what she wanted. He turned back to face her, his eyes narrowed.

She'd missed her chance at using the moment when he hadn't been paying attention. But the Huntress wouldn't let waste any more time; she pulled the grenade's pin and threw it at him, flying up higher to escape the blast. Her aim was true, but the half-ghost wasn't exactly blind. He dodged, flying upward until they were at the same level.

"I thought we had a truce, Huntress," he said as she readied her rockets. He amended his statement. "Well, until you shot me—twice. And captured me in a net. But you know I'm not a criminal now. Can we maybe stop fighting?"

"Why? Afraid I'll beat you again?" she taunted. The half-ghost's eye twitched, and he frowned. Ectoblasts formed in his hands.

"That wasn't a fair fight and you know it," he said. Valerie stamped ruthlessly down on the smidgeon of guilt that rose up in her. He ruined my life. He deserves this. She couldn't get the image of him comforting that ghost out of her head, though. Or the image of him looking up at her, those weeks ago, broken because of what she'd done. No. We need that money!

"I thought you were a criminal, Phantom.You don't get to hold that against me! And even if—even if you didn't commit those crimes, you deserved everything you got!" she shouted, fixing her crosshairs right on his chest. Target Acquiredflashed across the top of her helmet's vision.

"I'm pretty sure even criminals have the right to know what law they've broken," Phantom said cockily. It was a familiar attitude, and one Valerie hated. How dare he act all high and mighty? "You haven't even read me my rights."

With a cry, Valerie launched her rockets at him. He dropped fifty feet, straight to the ground—through the ground—into the ground—and the rockets exploded on the grass, next to where the grenade had. Her board lurched as the shockwave boosted it. The park was starting to look pretty banged up, patches of dark, smoking grass and pits littering the ground.

Phantom flew back up into the air, his expression irate. "You know, I'm getting sick and tired of you shooting at me, Valerie." The Huntress felt her limbs grow cold—was that a threat to expose her identity? After all that "pain" and "suffering" he had gone through because people were trying to reveal his? The hypocrite.

"Don't use my name!" she yelled, grabbing another grenade. "You have no right!"

"I have every right!" he bellowed. Valerie blinked; that was the first time he'd ever really yelled at her. Well, not the first time he'd yelled, but the first time he really seemed to mean it. "You exposed the fact that I have a human identity to the whole fucking town! You don't get to pretend that you're the good guy in this situation!"

"I AM!" she yelled right back. "You RUINED MY LIFE! I live with fucking rats because of you! I never see my dad! I am going to capture you and expose your identity to the whole world if it means he can be happy again!" She tossed the grenade at him, but he dodged again, baring his teeth at her. It reminded her of a rabid animal. An animal that needs to be put down. Then, his expression turned calculating. Cold.

"When your dad designed that security system for the labs," Phantom began, his tone furious but controlled, "they euthanized the guard dogs they'd been using before."

"So what?" Valerie demanded. What did that have to do with anything? He's crazy. It has to be some kind of distraction technique. A bad one.In spite of herself, though, she wondered where this was going.

"For animals, it can be both easier and harder to come back as ghosts. They don't have a lot of desires, and the ones they do have are strong. Less conflict than humans. But they're also very simple. Most never move on because their desire—like eating enough food every day—is ongoing." He hadn't relaxed his mid-air stance, nor had he lowered his glowing hands. He stared at her intently, as though she were the only person in the world. It made her—uncomfortable. "One of the dogs that was euthanized came back as a ghost. He was never mine, though I think he's… adopted me, I guess. He'd left a toy at the labs, and I didn't realize what he wanted fast enough. I did my best to stop him from destroying everything, but… I wasn't as good as I am now."

The Huntress could only stare. No way… He's trying to blame my dad! This wasn't her dad's fault—it couldn't be. He never would've condoned killing animals, especially dogs, just because it was convenient. Her face contorted in rage. In the distance, she vaguely registered sirens. Police, maybe. Or the GIW. That last one was more likely.

"Stop trying to pin that on him! You're a liar!" she screamed in denial. Phantom threw up his hands like he was the one getting frustrated. He has no right! He's the one who's done me dirty, not the other way around.

"Talking to you is like talking to a fucking wall! It's like you don't have eyes, ears, or a goddamn brain! Fucking think, Valerie! Did it even seem like he was my dog? Did it look like I was the one in control?Why would I lie about this when I haven't lied about ANYTHING ELSE?" he thundered, his chest heaving. The sirens were getting louder. He glanced down, his face still twisted in fury, to see a few white vans rocketing down the road toward them. Valerie couldn't help but do as he'd said, even as her mind rebelled against listening to him.

She had thought back often to those moments that had ruined her life. She'd obsessed over them, even. But—had she really examined them as closely as she'd thought she had? The memories had branded themselves on her psyche. It was easy, thinking back to that week—that day. The giant ghost dog, rampaging through her whole life. Her dad's frustration. And Phantom, frantically trying to… pull the dog back. Stop him. The ghost boy had been panicking.

Maybe… maybe he's not lying…

And, really, why would he lie? He'd been telling the truth about the jewels, the mayor. This was the one thing that hadn't fit with the rest of his act, though she doubted, now, that it was an act. She'd known it hadn't made sense. She'd known, but she hadn't questioned it. Had she really been so blind, so enraged, so obsessed?

It doesn't matter, she told herself firmly. We still need that money, even if… Even if he didn't actually ruin my life. He still let that ghost dog hurt my dad's career… But she was grasping at straws, and she knew it. She tried to summon the hatred, her fuel, the thing she'd been clinging onto for what seemed like a lifetime. But it wouldn't come. It refused.

The vans were at the park, now. The GIW were stepping out of them, guns raised to fire at Phantom. I can use that like I did last time, Valerie thought. She glanced down at her arm—her gun had recharged enough for a few shots. She brought it up to fire.

"No," Phantom said. His voice was like what she imagined a general's might sound like. He watched her, and the ectoblasts in his hands burned out. I don't understand—he knows I'm not letting him go. And the GIW are right there! Why is he making himself defenseless? "I'm not doing this again! I'm not!" And before she could react, he barreled toward her through the air. She pulled the trigger even as he wrenched her hand so that she'd miss. It went wide. She struggled as he gripped her arms tightly enough she could feel it through her armor.

"What are you—"

And then she was gone. She couldn't think or breathe or move—she would've panicked, but she couldn't do that either. She was in a great, empty abyss, only she also felt trapped, caged. The sensation was wrong—shewas wrong. She was floating away, getting bigger and bigger. Was this what dying felt like?—and then she was back.

But not in the air.

She found herself on hands and knees, trembling, on a flat rooftop. Her board clattered somewhere behind her. She was across the city, it looked like, somewhere in the business district. She pressed the button to release her mask as she retched; she didn't want to choke on her vomit. It lifted with a hiss—just in time.

Once she was done, she wiped her mouth, although the metal of her suit didn't really help; she only smeared the bile across everything. The taste of sour stomach acid lingered in her mouth. A drop of sweat dripped from her nose and landed on the concrete in front of her like a tear. The wind was cool, though—it felt nice on her face.

"I'm sorry," a familiar, echo-y voice said. She looked up, and there he was—Phantom, observing her from a few feet away. "I've never teleported anyone else before. I didn't realize it would be so unpleasant for full humans."

"You think?" Valerie coughed, squinting at him. He looked ragged, she realized. He'd been too far away for her to notice it before. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy—the contrast between the redness and the bright, toxic green of his irises made it all the more noticeable. He was covered in sweat. His hair, which was normally in disarray, seemed worse than usual. And he was shaking—from fatigue? He can typically go a lot longer than that and be raring for more. What was he doing before he got to the fight?

"What? Do I have something on my face?" he raised an eyebrow sardonically. He seemed… less agitated than he had before. Less like he was a second away from snapping. Valerie herself wasn't fuming anymore. But the prize…If she got to her board, she might be able to chase him until he was too tired to dodge or deflect her shots.

Why had he brought her here? To talk? To fight without any distractions? If it was to talk, why did he care? Was it some misplaced fondness? Or something greater? She didn't know, and she tried to convince herself she didn't care. She had a goal—a purpose.

"You look like shit," she responded, surprising even herself with the honesty. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. The action reminded her of someone… His human half?Maybe that was why—maybe he knew her as a human and liked now wasn't the time. Her board had a homing device—she just had to stand up, press the button, and she'd be able to jump on no problem. Without Phantom realizing what she was doing.

"Thanks," he muttered. "You're one to talk." His nose wrinkled. "I've come across better-smelling hobos." Valerie glanced at the vomit beneath her. Okay, he's got a point. She scrambled awkwardly to her feet, avoiding the pool and trying to make it seem casual. He eyed her.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked. The breeze blew a strand of white hair onto his forehead. He crossed his arms, rubbing his own shoulders. Was he cold? No. He seemed… self-conscious, perhaps. He glanced to the side.

"We need to talk. And we can't do that if the Guys in White are breathing down my neck. I've bought us a few minutes." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. This didn't help with the puffiness or the redness. "Do you even believe me?" he asked. "About the dog? Or are you just biding your time like you always do?"

Valerie opened her mouth to snap back defensively, but… She did believe him. It wouldn't stop her, but it was nice to know he hadn't singled her out for some kind of revenge. Maybe he could've tried harder to stop the dog. But the Fentons—ghost experts and hunters—hadn't exactly stopped it either, and she wasn't going around blaming them.

And, in this moment, she couldn't believe Phantom would ever do something so… so malicious. He's shorter than me, she saw. She hadn't known that before. But she hadn't ever really spoken to him before, had she? Not without threats, at least. He seemed small, his silhouette dwarfed by the infinite sky. Had he always been that thin? He had muscle, sure, but it was lean muscle. Not bulky. And he didn't have anyfat on him.

I have to do it. For my dad. It's more money than he's going to make if he spent years working at his cruddy job.

"Yeah," she croaked. "Yeah, I believe you." He slouched, as though a great weight had been lifted off of him. He believed her. How had she not seen it before? These emotions—unlike that ghost's—couldn't be faked. They were almost tangible, like if she reached out and touched him she'd feel them brewing just underneath his glowing skin.

"Okay." He couldn't seem to believe it. "Okay, that's—that's good. That's great." His lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile at her, but it turned into a grimace. Valerie couldn't blame him.

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked. Now was her chance; Phantom had a far-away look in his eye, like he was thinking about where exactly to start. Her hand crept towards the button on her arm.

"Well, I—"

She pressed it. It began beeping, and she heard her board rise into the air behind her. Phantom blanched—apparently that was possible for half-ghosts—and charged toward her; he knew he was exhausted, unprepared for another go-around. She tensed, leapt into the air—

And just as her feet met the board, he was there. Somehow, he looked angrier than he had when they'd been arguing. He slammed his fist into her shoulder, hard. It cracked, and she toppled backwards as he used his other hand to tear her hover board out from under her feet. She fell down, landing on her back with a thud. All of the air was expelled from her lungs.

"No," Phantom growled. Her board was bucking, trying to reach her. The beeping on her arm continued insistently. The half-ghost held her precious, precious board down with iron strength. He reached to the back of it and ripped into it, pulling out a couple of wires.

"Stop!" Valerie cried. The beeping in her arm died down—he'd torn out something vital in the homing mechanism. No board detectedflashed on the screen on her arm.

"I guess it serves me right," Phantom said, tossing the board behind him. It skittered across the roof, throwing up sparks. Valerie scrambled to her feet, dashing toward it, trying to dodge around him. She wasn't fast enough. He grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her, pinning her arms in place. "You hurt me really bad the last time we fought. Did you know that?" She knew he was angry, but his voice sounded… Not calm. He sounded like he was barely containing his anger. "I was in agony for daysbecause of you! It hurt to walk, to sit. To breathe."

He tossed her to the ground. She landed heavily on her back, again, and scuttled backwards as he advanced. Each step was deliberate, like a lion creeping up on its helpless prey. She retreated until she met the edge of the roof. The Huntress brought up her arm to shoot—it was point-blank, no way could she miss—but he reached forward and crushed it. She cried out—he hadn't hurt her, but the thought of being weaponless when he was acting like this, like he was dangerous, was too much to bear.

She tasted something unfamiliar in her dry, dry throat. It was fear.

"I'm not sure you understood what I said to you." Phantom was looming over her; she was trapped, with nowhere to go. Was he going to hurt her? Kill her for what she'd done to him? Had this been the final straw? "I wanted to talk, Valerie. Not fight. I thought you believed me!" He was frustrated, his mouth tugged into a frown.

"I…" She swallowed. "I do."

"Were you trying to run away?" he demanded. His face was stone. No, it was stronger than that. Steel. It was the steel of a blade, cutting through her, intoher. "Am I that fucking scary to you?"

"No… I—Phantom…my dad. The reward."

The half-ghost did something awful, then. His anger seemed to dissipate, and he slowly leaned back, away from her. And he laughed. She could only watch as he laughed and laughed, clutching his stomach. It wasn't a happy laugh. In fact, it was the ugliest thing she'd ever heard, tearing out of him like intestines torn from a gut wound. Her fear vanished—he wasn't planning on harming her. How had she thought that? It was replaced with an emotion as equally unfamiliar: concern. It was a mild concern, she'd admit. But it was there.

"Did I say something funny?" She'd meant for it to be demanding, but it sounded… lost. Bewildered.

"Yes." Phantom wiped a tear from his eye. Somehow, Valerie didn't think it was a joyful one. "You did. The reward isn't real, Valerie. Everything you've done to capture me was for nothing."

"What? No way!" Was he lying just to save his own skin? No, don't accuse him, she admonished herself. He's the one with the power here—you don't even have a gun. She took a moment to try and control her tone. "How… how do you know?" Phantom stared at her, as if he'd know what she'd been thinking. Was she that transparent?

"The ghost who did it—his name's Technus—confessed. He wasn't doing it because he really wanted to my human identity, either. He was trying to stir up trouble for me, and it worked. Well, I say hewas. Really, it was him under the direction of the Empress," Phantom explained. Valerie blinked. That was... not as simple of an answer as she'd hoped, she decided.

"So—he was lying?" she asked. Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.

"Yes." Phantom nodded. He started to pace in front of her. Her eyes followed him as he went back and forth, back and forth. "That's what I wanted to talk with you about—the Empress. She's this—ghost. I guess that's obvious. She's been taking over the Zone, so some of the ghosts have been coming here, into the human world, to escape. That one you saw tonight—Kitty…" He grimaced at the memory. "Some of the ghosts get lucky. And some of them don't. Johnny was her boyfriend."

Oh. So that ghost and Phantom hadn't been a couple, then. But they'd clearly known each other. "What the hell does that have to do with this 'Technus'—or, or revealing your half-ghost status to the city?" It wasn't clicking in her brain. Phantom ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know how much time we have left, and it's kind of complicated. But basically she was warned that I might be able to stop her if she just let me be. So she decided to get me out of the game early. She had Technus hack the news station—and she's the one who sent those weird-ass medieval ghosts. And—and it worked. I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late to stop her from conquering the Zone."

"Okay, fine," Valerie accepted. He probably wasn't lying. He'd be able to come up with something better than this if he were. She didn't exactly understand why he was telling her, however. "But, not to be rude or whatever, I don't really care about the Zone. Or the ghosts." Phantom stopped pacing and sat down across from her. It was such a human gesture she almost jumped in surprise.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "The Fentons don't either. And I'm sure most of Amity doesn't. But she's coming here next. In two weeks, we're going to have a ghost army on our doorstep." He frowned tiredly. Really—what hadhe been doing before he'd teleported to that fight?

"Holy shit, are you for real?" she asked, straightening. "Why the hell haven't you told anyone?"

"I have!" His tone was defensive, his posture more so. He seemed to cave in on himself. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you, of all people," he murmured. Valerie didn't think she was supposed to hear it, so she pretended she hadn't. Besides, she shared the sentiment. "I told the Fentons—"

"—the Fentons?" He glared at her for interrupting.

"Yes, the fucking Fentons. Need me to say it slower for you?" He didn't give her a chance to respond. "And they were supposedto tell the police—only, I don't think they did." He sighed again, then raised his head in alarm, shooting to his feet.

"What?" Valerie asked. She could barely process all this. When had he spoken to the Fentons? Why? How? They hated ghosts more than she did, and that was saying something. The last she'd heard, they had been convinced Phantom deserved to be jailed. But now it made sense, at least. When he'd spoken to her—and she'd listened, really listened—up above the park, he'd seen a potential ally. So he'd taken the chance, the risk, that she might be convinced further and had teleported her here. It had been a desperate play—but he was desperate. The public may have been on his side, but the GIW was still everywhere.

"The GIW. I hear sirens. I have to go. But—" Phantom looked down at her, pleading. "Do you believe me?" Valerie rose to her feet, but she didn't sprint for her board. The air was thick with what had transpired between them. All the unveiled truths. She felt bad for him. She'd never felt bad for him before. He'd been unknowable, cocky—even arrogant. But she'd never really spoken with him, had she? And all of his mysterious motivations, his contradictions… Some were still there—like why he'd decided to protect people in the first place when they'd done nothing but shun him—but much of it was making sense in a way it hadn't before.

It was still a lot to take in—too much, really. The Empress was such a pretentious name, too. Oddly, she felt used. She'd been played like a pawn against the half-ghost. The reward had been used to manipulate her. And if she felt manipulated by the fake reward, how must he feel? He'd been the one targeted, after all. She wasn't sure she trusted him, not after everything that had happened between them. But, aside from his half-ghost status and identity, he'd never lied to her. She saw that now. It had taken him bellowing at her for her to understand, but she did understand. And she could believe him.

Slowly, she nodded.

"I—I think I do. What are you going to do now?"

Strangely enough, Phantom pulled something from his belt—a piece of paper? No, an envelope. What the hell was he planning to do with a letter?

"I was going to give her this tomorrow, but…" He shrugged. "I guess now's a good a time as any." He peered down off the roof—there were the vans again.

"What is it?" she asked.

"A letter," he responded, giving her a look. "What does it look like?" He paused. "You have to be ready, Huntress. Two weeks. Get the Fentons to fix your board and your suit if you can't figure it out—they like you. I'm sure they'll do it."

And then he was gone, leaving her on the roof, alone.


Dear Lieutenant Valdez,

I didn't get the chance to tell you everything I wanted to when I spoke with you. Although I informed the Fentons, I don't know if they shared this information or made the urgency of the situation clear. While I would love to speak to you in person again, I think that if we met up, I wouldn't be able to give you the information you'd need without being interrupted. The GIW are very persistent.

I know you probably have more questions, but I'm not going to try and anticipate or answer them. We're running on a limited amount of time here.

I'll cut straight to the chase. Something is coming. She's a ghost, and she calls herself "the Empress." She's spent weeks—maybe a month, now—conquering the Ghost Zone. That's what we call the dimension the ghosts "live" in (for lack of a better term). But my sources tell me she won't be satisfied when she's through with that: she'll be coming here next.

I know she has an army—one strong enough to dominate some of the most powerful ghosts in the Zone. I'm told she herself is very strong, too. Please, don't underestimate her. Currently, we're thinking she's something like Pariah Dark but worse.

I'd tell Amity this, but I'm not sure they'll listen to me. You need to prepare. I'd advise stockpiling ecto-weapons and ghost equipment and making sure you know how to use them. Set some kind of evacuation route to Casper High School; the ghost shield will be a good place to hunker down if things get ugly. I have my own plans to protect the city, but I don't think I'll be enough this time.

She's supposed to be here in two weeks. She could be a little faster or slower than that. I'm sorry I couldn't give you more time, but I've been busy. And if you're wondering—no, I haven't left any fingerprints on this. Or DNA. So don't bother looking.

I'm leaving this in your desk drawer in the hopes you'll see it tomorrow morning. Make some kind of announcement—soon—so I'll know you got it. I don't know what other kinds of preparations need to be made. But you seemed to take me seriously when we spoke. Please take me seriously now.

Sincerely,

Phantom


AN: Thanks for the response! Over 400 follows, who would have guessed? Hope you enjoyed. Thanks to TheSteelShadow for editing. I'm hoping for the 9th for my next update, but please check my profile if that doesn't happen. Questions: How was Valerie? Were her motivations understandable? Was Kitty OOC? Danny? Is anything confusing or not making sense?