AN: A bit short, but I like this arc's direction.
The mayor's office was in full-swing. The holidays were over, the New Year brought new laws and ordinances enacted by the previous. Tax documents and returns were frantically being filed and sent.
Vlad took it all with grace and poise. No amount of workload or intimidating pile of paperwork seemed to phase him. He'd just raise an eyebrow at the momentous task, pick up a pen, and get to work.
Aids couldn't help but marvel at just how fast he got things done. How 'efficiently', he'd put it when asked.
But the work waits for no man, and he'd still be in his office long into the evening, clearing up backlogs years, even decades in the system.
So, nobody batted an eye when he casually asked for old documents and would stay well into the night reviewing them.
Birth and Death records? Done. Probably some information sorting system that was put off since the 70s.
Housing records? Done. Zoning was an issue.
Cemetery records? Absolutely! Ghosts were his platform's specialty.
Vlad's aids were especially pleased he was looking into the decrepit old building on Specter. He'd requested records going back decades before the house's accident. It was a nervous underlying tick in the municipalities department to mention that building. The codes, health and safety, and more had them feeling like the place was a nuclear reactor on an unstable timer.
It sent several newbie Civil Engineers into a panicked mental breakdown when they first found out about it.
He had teams of construction engineers and demolition experts at the ready, but he insisted on holding off. Actually, it was more of a threatening demand; they proceed without direct authorization, they risk the entire town.
It heeled the more zealous companies in line.
Nobody would step foot in that house if he had anything to say about it.
The mayor smiled kindly at an aid walking in with a hot cup of Early Grey. He took a sip and returned to a sprawling map of the old section of Amity's cemetery and the accompanying records.
The cup paused just at his lips.
He stared at the records sheet and his pointer followed the markings on the map through each graveyard plot. His finger came to a rest. He smiled toothily.
"There you are."
Danny sighed, his desk chair teetering on its hind legs. Lancer's assignment on the symbolism of Charles Dickens lay half-finished under the glow of a conjured, floating ecto-light. Danny's eyes were sore from staring at the page by the pale blue-green light.
The best part of break; coming back and immediately being piled on with work.
Finals, thankfully, were done and dusted before break. He honestly pitied the poor schools at neighboring districts who had finals hanging over their heads during the holidays. But the teachers were raring to go with packing as much 'knowledge' as they could into them before the end of the school year.
'What better way to ruin a good break than to pile on the homework,' he mentally grumbled.
What's worse, the Truce was over, so ghosts had no reason to not be charging into any portal they could. No Truce, no Truce parties, and no reason to avoid a fight if you had all year to recover from it.
Before the Truce's 'seasonal low', he'd average maybe 3-4 low-level ectopuses or blobs a day, maybe one major ghost (like Spectra) a month, and one seriously-messed-up ghost (i.e. BEN and the Producer) once a season.
Now, he was averaging 10 or more ectopuses an evening, with at least one daily major ghost.
And Boxy didn't even factor into any of that.
He swore he punted the guy into a closing Zone portal, turned around, and he popped out of another natural portal shouting 'BEWARE'!
Even taking into account that he didn't need to eat, that he didn't need to sleep, he was still firing on all cylinders just to stay afloat of a failing grade!
How on Earth did mortal teenagers deal with this level of crap?!
Well… besides not having to deal with ghost-hunting.
Cripes, he wishes he could be in more places at once (silently; Desire is notorious for hiding around waiting for one spoken aloud).
The chair tilted awkwardly, and he spilled on the floor with a yelp.
He grumbled, glaring up at the ceiling.
"You know what? I'm taking a break, I earned it."
He activated his ghost core and slowly rose from his spot on the floor, floating lazily and dragging the chair upright in the process. Then, he put a foot on the desk and gently kicked off, letting himself adrift through the air forward.
He guided himself through the doorway and aimlessly floated around the house. It was a little something he'd do from time to time.
His inner kid was ecstatic every time. It was like being an astronaut in your own home, a game of 'The Floor is Lava', but 100x cooler with actual Zero-G factored in.
"Uuuuuuh, Houston *crckt*, we have nothing new to… ahhh… report," He muffled in his hand, pushing off the wall downstairs. "We are now… uhhh… entering the foyer, here. Gonna steer around the stairwell and… uhhh… do a little spacewalk down. Over."
He pushed off the ceiling and let himself spin around in a circle towards the couch before gliding forwards towards the basement.
"Ahhh… Houston, be advised we are… ahh… entering an alien laboratory… uh… proceeding with caution. Over." He 'reported'.
He glided over the destroyed remains of the stairs into the lab space, enjoying the really open area it provided.
He leapt off a wall, pulling off six slow somersaults in the air until he bumped the other side. He kept at it, doing cartwheels mid-air, 'push-ups' against the ceiling, and, of course, a couple swimming strokes he remembered.
He thumped against a wall, holding a light fixture to stay in place, grinning excitedly. He aimed himself to the opposite wall and launched off into a 'canonball' pose, counting how many fast turns he made.
One-Two-Three-Four-Five-Six-Seven-Eight-Nine-
*Crash!*
He untucked himself as he felt his foot catch something. The Zero-G working against him as he continued a drifting rotation while so dizzy his eyes were probably spinning. Eventually, the world righted itself enough for him to look around.
"Aw man," He muttered, taking the reins back on his flying and zipping down to the floor. His foot caught something and took out a bunch of his parents' junk boxes in the process. Inventions, spare bits, and miscellaneous 'science' scattered across the floor.
"Seriously? Well, at least no one's here to 'ground' me," He joked to himself, lifting off the ground for a moment, before settling back.
He sighed, "Might as well pick all this up." He started picking up several devices in his arms and haphazardly tossing them in the empty boxes. The fact that some of these were solid metal didn't phase him enough to care considering, well, ghostly strength, but it was still tedious.
"Okay, this looks broken, this looks fine, this is probably radioactive… huh," He paused his gathering as he spotted a long pole lying on the ground, but what caught his eye was the intricate spider-web-like design weaved into a ring on the end.
"I didn't think my parents were into this sort of stuff," He though aloud. The web looked just like those 'dream catchers' people would put up to ward away nightmares. It even had feathers and little doohickeys and ornaments strung along it.
Aside from the web glowing an unnatural green, it didn't look too out of place from something his parents probably had back in the 60's.
He propped it back up, seeing it stand almost 6 feet tall. "Yeah, you're not going in a box."
He mentally threw up his hands at it and walked back to gather more stuff. Not noticing the Fenton Ghost Catcher's base was damaged in the fall.
Behind him, the device's top-heavy design tilted forward as the bent leg failed.
Danny's hairs stuck up on the back of his neck, feeling some impending Event coming at him.
He turned around just in time to see the green net fall towards his face.
…
…
"Ugh…" Danny groaned, blinking. "Wow, that hurt."
He continued to blink as the lab slowly came back into focus. His head felt like pureed brains and his own voice sounded… off. Muffled almost, or clearer? He couldn't really say.
"Hnnnn."
Danny jolted at the sound of a quiet sigh across the room, "Who's there!?"
…
"Hnn…"
Danny's eyes peered into the darkness, seeing the dim silhouette of a figure standing in the corner, a little hunched in on itself.
Glowing, green eyes stared back.
"Holy-!" Danny yelped, scampering backwards. "Who are you?! How did you get here?"
The figure didn't move, but the eyes never left him. They felt familiar, but also… strange. Definitely ghostly, but at the same time not like any ghost he's ever seen. Hollower, emptier… colder.
"I-I'm not going to hurt you." Danny cautioned.
"Hnnn…"
…
'This isn't going anywhere,' Danny thought frustratedly. "Look, my name's Danny, okay?"
"D-Daaahhh-"
Danny backed away at the harsh sounds the figure made.
"Daaah-nneeeee"
"Uh, yeah, that's it." He congratulated, uneasily.
"Daahhh-nny… Dannnnnny… Daaanny…" The figure repeated, its pronunciation becoming more adept. Eventually, it petered out and became quiet again.
…
"Yeah… I'm Danny. Hey," He greeted.
"Hey." The figure parroted back.
…
"I… am…" Danny started as the figure rasped.
"I… am… Ph-Phantom…"
…
"W-wait, what?"
"I… am Phantom…" The figure repeated.
The figure hobbled its way awkwardly forward.
And Danny saw… himself?!
Sort of? It was like looking in a mirror, but altered. 'Photoshopped' if Tucker's lessons taught him anything. It was an unnerving mix between Phantom (the hero), Danny Phantom (the ghost), and Danny Fenton (the human).
The hair was stark white, like Danny Phantom, with familiar toxic-green eyes, but he wore Danny Fenton's jeans and T-shirt just peaking out from under Phantom's hoodie, just with black and white accents instead of green.
"H-holy moly! You're me! I mean, I'm you, er," Danny fumbled. To its credit, Phantom didn't seem phased. It just stared at Danny, eyes a little vacant.
"Okay, step back, let's just… take things slow. Okay?" Danny tried. The figure stared, unblinking. "So… first thing's first, what the heck happened? I remember… I remember that web thingy. Dream catcher?"
He examined the area around him and found the device in question just beside him. A label on the side helpfully explained it was the 'Fenton Ghost Catcher'.
"Okay, so, the 'Fenton Ghost Catcher'?" Danny mumbled, turning his attention to the boxes of papers and binders around him. "Something in here's gotta explain what the heck this thing does."
"Hnnn."
Danny looked back at his clone (?) started gliding aimlessly forward, like a puppet being dragged across on strings. "Hey, hey! Don't go anywhere yet, we need to figure this out, okay? Just- *sigh*," he huffed.
"Fine, I don't' wanna hurt you, but I can't let you go," He hunched in on himself, ready to transform-
… nothing.
He blinked.
Then tried again.
Nothing. No ring, no light, no core!
"What the hell?!" He yelped. He had no core! This was… that meant… then…
He looked back to the ghostly Phantom. The ghostly reflection of himself.
"You're me," he realized, breathlessly. The Phantom paused its aimless circles and turned a puzzled glance to him, "No, no, I mean, you are literally me. Aren't you? You're like… my ghost, separated from me. I'm… I'm human, but you… you're my ghost!"
"Hnnnn…" The figure sighed, then slowly nodded. "I… am Phantom."
…
It was… disturbing to think about. Part of him, part of himself, was there. A separate entity, floating a couple feet away instead of… well, part of him.
On one hand, this was unnatural, worrying, and he should probably focus on undoing it.
On the other-
"This is. SO. COOL!" Danny cheered. "This is perfect! I mean, Lancer's on my back about my homework, the ghosts are coming through like no tomorrow, and now I've got a way to do both at the same time!"
"Hnn?" Phantom tilted its head.
"Okay, uh… first, what can you do? Like, can you turn intangible? Invisible? I can see you floating, so flying's a definite… um…"
"I… protect…" The other-Danny sighed, hollowly.
"Awesome, so you've got the 'ghost-fighter' part in me, too, huh?" Danny smiled warmly. "That's great, you can take care of the ghosts, right?"
…
"I… protect… what's mine," It hissed, its eyes flared green and reflected emotion for the first time. A powerful… harsh emotion.
Danny balked a little, "Uh… so, think you can handle ghost hunting duties, other-me? Phantom? Phantom-Half?"
"Yesss," it hissed like rattling leaves.
"Okay… so… are you okay to start patrols, like now? I'll do all the boring homework and stuff, and you get to 'protect what's yours', right? And that's this neighborhood… your 'lair', essentially."
Phantom nodded.
"Then it's a win-win!" Danny cheered. "Just... come back during the evenings, okay? You can help me look through my- er, our parents' old designs to figure a little more about this. Deal?"
The ghostly half sighed, but nodded, drifting its way up through the ceiling. Danny jumped on the ropes the TAPS crew left still connecting to the stairwell and climbed up, thankful for still being stronger than most teens his age. Not floating would take some getting used to.
A quick peek outside showed Phantom drifting in a circle above the house, carefully scouting around for any ghosts.
Satisfied, he headed upstairs and started in earnest on the homework assignment, feeling like a weight was lifted off his chest. His thoughts kept filtering back to Phantom… his split self. It felt a little unnerving, honestly. A part of him was gone, off on its own somewhere else.
He vowed to look into his parents' invention, he did, but right now… all he could think about was homework and sleep.
He blinked harshly at the thought of rest, eyes dry and strained. He guessed without the ghostly part of himself, he's going to be feeling a lot more tired lately.
Regardless, the blue glow of the floating flame was dying by the second. Without his ghost core to replenish it, it'd be lights-out until he could get his Phantom self here to refuel it.
"I got far enough," Danny sighed, looking down at his mostly-completed paper. He'd finish it off tomorrow morning before class.
As if perfectly timed, the small flame winked out of existence, plunging the room in semi-darkness lit only by the streetlight outside casting shadows and dull, amber light through the window. Danny sighed, climbing into bed, glancing out at the window once more.
Phantom circled around the house in a continuous loop, passing by his bedroom window like clockwork. It was soothing, almost, like counting sheep. Danny noted it hadn't left the property the entire time he watched.
He shrugged, wondering if ghost activity was just low, and settled in for bed.
It was weird, for the first time in a while… he was actually tired tonight.
He drifted off in real, human sleep for the first time in… well, 30 years.
…
…
It's really quiet, now.
AN: I'd be honestly surprised if Danny never did that floating-around thing for fun. He's a canonical astronaut-lover.
This arc I've had in mind for a while now.
