For Team Ghost in Phic Phight 2021! Based on a prompt by Bee.
Make Believe
by TwilightWakerofTime
The hallway is pitch black, illuminated only by the faint moonlight streaming in through the doorway they had opened. Danny glances around, looking for a light switch. There aren't any, though he shouldn't be surprised. This house is ancient, and even if it had once had electricity, the power would have been cut off to the abandoned building long ago.
"Do you have your flashlight, honey?" comes Danny's mom's voice from directly behind him. With a sigh, he reluctantly fishes the device out of his pocket.
He didn't really need it. Honestly, he'd prefer to do without it. But it wasn't like he could tell his parents that.
The beam casts eerie shadows, caused by pieces of wood that had clearly fallen from the ceiling or various pieces of trash left behind by vandals. Danny notices an empty can next to the doorway and kicks it absentmindedly.
"This place is a lot… dirtier than I expected," his mom says, a hint of disappointment in her tone.
"Seems like vandals have been here a lot, eh, Mads?" says Jack, lumbering up behind them. "Oh, well, not the worst place we've been in, right?"
It's true, Danny knows. He doesn't go with his parents on all of their investigations—in fact, if it were up to him, he'd go on none of them, especially since the accident. But he hadn't been given a choice this time around; with his falling grades and constantly missed curfews, his parents didn't trust leaving him alone for a week, and Jazz was off at college. So here he was, forced to explore this dusty old mansion a state away instead of enjoying his free time with friends over his spring break.
It is probably one of the better kept places they'd been, however. Danny had seen supposedly haunted sites that were nothing more than blocks of cement from structures torn down centuries prior. This mansion is more or less intact, though perhaps a bit worse for wear. It's also extremely secluded, smacked in the middle of a forest at least a half hour drive from the nearest city, so it isn't quite as overrun with human intervention as most places are.
Nonetheless, the stories are plentiful, and clearly vandals had targeted it due to its local fame. It's called the Youngblood Manor, named after the family who had resided here. There are stories of the youngest boy in the family dying from a horrible, tragic murder, stabbed over a dozen times in his playroom. The culprits had supposedly never been found. Conspiracy theorists like to believe that it wasn't some random act of violence or thievery-gone-wrong, but a premeditated attack done by the boy's mother, who was upset by her child's wild imagination.
Danny knows that there was once a ghost that made its haunt here. It's immediately obvious with the way the floors and walls hum softly with the energy of the dead. However, that doesn't mean that the ghost is still here. Many spirits move on eventually, or dematerialize when they don't have humans to help them manifest.
"Danny, move so we can get in," his mother instructs gently, tearing him from his thoughts. Danny wordlessly steps aside, allowing his parents to enter behind him, adding their own flashlight beams to the mix.
There are several doorways that look like dark voids, the dim flashlights unable to pierce their shadows. Most of the doors are missing, leaving only empty spaces with broken hinges.
"It's definitely cold in here," Maddie notes. "You got the temperature reader, Jack?"
"On it, Mads!" Jack says enthusiastically. He withdraws the temperature reader, which scans the area around them for temperature anomalies. Danny shuffles a bit farther back so that his father doesn't point it at him. He knows he's unusually cold and his parents have written off previous readings as a fluke or glitch. He wants them to continue thinking that for as long as possible.
Danny takes the chance to peer into one of the nearby rooms. It looks like it might have been a sitting room, with a few chairs, so bug- and dust-ridden that the fancy fabric they were covered in is ruined, an ancient dresser, and an old mirror.
The mirror is in surprisingly good condition; aside from the dust coating its surface, it seems to be fully intact.
Danny shudders a bit, quickly jerking his eyes away from the room to continue following his parents. Mirrors have been… uncomfortable, to say the least, ever since the accident. He doesn't know exactly what it is about them, but they make him feel a tad bit less anchored to this realm, even in his human form. His form blurs a bit if he looks into them for too long, his features twisting into something that's maybe a bit more ghostly than he likes. Tucker likes to tease him about being a vampire who's afraid he won't see his reflection. Danny doesn't have the heart to tell him that it's because he's afraid that he will , and it won't be what he wants to see.
Sam once mentioned that mirrors could be portals to the underworld in old wives' tales. They could capture wayward ghosts that touched them and suck them back into their own realm. Danny had laughed and dismissed it then; after all, if mirrors were a portal, then why had his parents wasted half of their lives trying to build one? (And succeeded—albeit temporarily.)
But… over time, he'd realized that those old wives seemed to know a lot more about his current situation than he did.
He trails behind his parents as they begin wandering the house. At the end of the hallway is a staircase and an entrance to the kitchen. He watches as his mom and dad discuss where the best place to set up would be. The playroom that supposedly housed the murder is upstairs, but his mom wants to finish exploring the bottom floor first.
Danny scans the hallway again, vigilant for any activity. So far he hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary aside from the energy he senses; it's just a normal, boring building. With some luck, the ghost will be long gone, and they can leave with zero paranormal encounters.
Of course, Danny doesn't have that kind of luck.
For a long time, Danny didn't believe in ghosts. He had as a child, of course; it was impossible not to believe when your parents talked about them every single day. But just like the Easter Bunny, Danny thought he'd grown out of such fairytales and liked to believe he was grounded in reality. His parents never found proof, anyway.
But that was before the accident.
Their stupid portal hadn't even stayed on. As far as his parents' were concerned, it had worked for less than a day and then completely fizzled out with no explanation. Danny didn't want to tell them what he'd learned about the portal. About what it needed to stay active. About what he had sacrificed to even get it working in the first place.
Ever since then, he'd met far more ghosts than he liked, and his parents were more invested in proving their existence than ever. And Danny can't let that happen. He can't.
"Mads, I'm getting EMF readings in here!" Jack's head pokes out of the kitchen doorway and he gestures enthusiastically. Danny hadn't even noticed him leave the hall. "Come look!"
Maddie shoots him a small, maybe slightly apologetic smile. "You know the drill, Danny. You're welcome to join us, but if you don't, just be careful and don't touch anything. Okay?"
He nods, and she hurries toward Jack. Danny sees her withdraw the recorder from her pocket and flick it on, speaking into it. "April 28th, investigation of the Youngblood Manor. Is anyone here with us? If you are, please give us a sign…"
Danny rolls his eyes, slumping against the wall with a huff. He has zero interest in chasing legends. Besides, if there was actually a ghost here, then his ghost sense would go off.
Of course, that's when his body is racked with an involuntary shudder.
No. He absolutely does not have that kind of luck.
His eyes narrow, back straightening as he pushes himself off the wall, glaring around the hallway. He doesn't see anything at first, so why—
And then, Danny sees him.
A young boy, facing away from him and staring at an open doorway. Young, of course, in the sense that he can't be any older than ten years old. But he's certainly been dead for at least a century, since his form is impressively solid for someone who haunts the living realm. He's wearing a ragged blue floor-length coat that's far too big on his tiny form and an enormous hat with a ridiculous feather sticking out of it. It's reminiscent of a sailor or pirate. Maybe it's a costume?
But the out-of-place clothing means nothing when compared with the state of his back. There are several wounds, cuts that tore little holes in the coat, each of them inflamed and festering with blood. Glistening ruby droplets fall from the cuts every so often, falling to the floor but never landing. Disappearing. The sanguine stands out starkly among the cheerful blue.
The ghost in him feels nothing in response, but his human side makes his stomach roil; it's hard for the living to be confronted with mortality in such a gruesome way.
Danny takes a step forward, unsure of what to do. The ghost doesn't seem to be doing anything yet, so why—
Then he realizes where the ghost is. He's looking in the doorway to the kitchen.
The kitchen that his parents had just entered.
The Youngblood boy (because that it had to be him) turns around then, as though sensing Danny's gaze. His painfully innocent eyes lock with Danny's own, widening when they seem to register that Danny can actually see him .
And then he changes, mouth stretching into a chilling grin, inhumanly wide and with too many teeth. The eyes harden into something much more sinister, almost taunting.
Youngblood disappears—
And then a loud CRASH sounds from the kitchen.
Someone screams, and the sound is like ice stabbing into Danny's heart.
"No!" Danny gasps, sprinting toward the doorway. He bursts through it, into the kitchen, frantically glancing around. "Mom! Dad! What—"
He finally manages to register the scene before him. His parents are both standing in the middle of the room, expressions equally dumbfounded and frightened. Right in front of them is a large piece of plywood, easily big enough to cause serious injury. It might have fallen from the ceiling, if the hole leading straight to the second floor above them is any indication.
"W-We're fine, Danno, nothing to worry about," his dad stutters. "Just had a bit of a scare. These things happen in old houses, you know?"
Maddie laughs breathlessly, finally moving to lift a hand to rub her face in relief. "Yes. I just… well. I hope that was the house, and not…"
Her voice trails off, and they all know what she's thinking. Sure, they want proof of ghosts. But was it a good idea to continue angering one that was clearly capable of hurting them?
A surge of fury rises in Danny. That stupid ghost had done it. That child had looked at his parents and dared to threaten his family. He sets his jaw.
Without another word, he spins around and leaves the room.
Once in the hallway, Danny turns off his flashlight with a click. He can see perfectly; the flashlight was for appearance's sake only. He takes in a deep breath, knowing it would be his last one for some time.
And, with a final exhale, he shuts his eyes and changes .
His physical form fades away. He becomes incorporeal, invisible to most, a deathly chill entering his bones. His breath catches. His heart stops.
When his eyes open again, he floats off the ground with ease.
He can feel the spirit more properly now. It's so clear that he's still inhabiting the building that Danny wonders how he'd even thought the ghost might be gone. The boy feels like a typical shade, the kind that are usually found in ancient, abandoned buildings like this. Ghosts that died tragic deaths and lingered, either out of revenge, to protect their homes, or to fulfill some unfinished business. He really hopes this one is the latter. They're not usually as hostile.
He senses that they are upstairs, luckily, not in the room with his parents. Nonetheless, he knows they are watching him. Even if their form is not nearby, this is their haunt. It's steeped with their energy. They have full control here. He senses the anger that flares as soon as his ghostly aura becomes fully realized, squeezing him, targeting him with an uncomfortable mental pressure. Instincts rise in him, telling him to run, not your haunt just as strong as the one ordering him to fight, they're weak, consume them, take the territory .
He tries as much as he can to ignore both urges. He doesn't need to be a ghost right now—not with his parents so close. He can't risk them gleaning any evidence of the paranormal, or worse—learning more about it than they already do.
He floats upstairs, phasing through the ceiling without even thinking about it. It feels so natural that it scares him sometimes, when he thinks about it. A human should not find that natural.
The ghost moves toward him, increasing the painful pressure on his mind. If he had lungs, he's sure he wouldn't be able to breathe right now. Despite having no real body, he feels like something heavy is sitting on top of him, like he's suffocating in thick oil. He moves sluggishly through the air.
The spirit's form flickers before him, flaring out ectoplasmic energy in a warning.
" Why are you here? " Youngblood huffs, crossing his arms with a pout. The innocent move contrasts the angry energy crackling in the air. " This is my house. You're going to ruin my games."
" Games ?" Danny repeats, a bit surprised. He'd been expecting a violent spirit, with what had just happened to his parents. Unless… Danny's eyes narrow. " Your games wouldn't happen to have anything to do with what happened downstairs, would they?"
" Oooh, you saw that? " The young ghost laughs in delight. " That was great! Did you see the looks on their faces? "
Danny grits his teeth, power boiling beneath the surface of his skin, itching to lash out. " Those games are going to stop ," he bites out. " Someone is going to get hurt. No more playing with people ."
The humor melts off of Youngblood's face rapidly. His arms fall to his side, eyes locking onto Danny with a threatening glower. " No. You can't tell me what to do."
"I can and I will, " Danny says, " because I will stop you if you try again."
"No ." The young ghost balls his fists, voice going up in pitch in a whine. " No! I don't want you here! Get OUT!"
The last words are more of an impression than a voice; an inhuman, subvocal shriek felt throughout his whole body. It's so loud that he grimaces in pain, the pressure increasing, human instincts bringing his hands to his useless ears. Nonetheless, he's sure his parents hear nothing, or if they did it was just a near-unintelligible crackle on their spirit box.
"I don't want to fight," Danny responds through clenched teeth, though he honestly wonders if he does. With the ghost directly in front of him, his instincts to attack are screaming . He can't fully control the energy that burns in his hands, eager to be used. " I just want you to leave for a little while. Just until the hunters go away. "
"No! You want them! You want to steal my playmates!" the ghost wails. Youngblood's form flares again, but this time it's more substantial: it swipes at Danny like a physical force, a blow straight to his chest. Danny stumbles on air.
Danny snarls and responds with a pulse of his own. The energy swings outward in a ring around him, hitting the child head on. Youngblood gasps and is sent careening backward, phasing halfway through the wall into the other room before he can right himself. When Youngblood steadies himself, he looks back up.
The anger is gone, pushed away into Youngblood's wide eyes. Panic swims in their depths. He glances around the room, as though scoping out the best exit.
Youngblood is scared of him.
Danny's stronger than him. He knows it, and now the ghost knows it too. It would be so easy to surge forward, consume his core, take his power for his own—
He shakes his head. Once. Twice. There's no physical movement, but the thoughts recede a bit anyway.
He can do this. He's not a ghost, he's a human. He repeats that like a mantra in his head.
And if it does turn into a fight? It's not because he wants it. Definitely not. He just needs to keep his parents from learning the truth. That's it.
"Leave," Danny orders again, much more confidently.
The ghost, torn between rage and fright, opens his mouth as though to reply—
But then… a sound.
Footsteps enter the room behind them. He'd been so focused on this prey ghost that he had completely ignored the living world.
His parents step into the room, utterly oblivious to the two spectral entities in front of them. Despite all of their hard work, his parents can't see ghosts without their (admittedly impressive) gadgets.
He feels the supernatural energy drain away rapidly and be replaced with an entirely new emotion: fear.
"Wow, Mads, the EMF readings are insane in here!" Jack says. "I've never seen it this active!"
"And since this house doesn't have electricity, we know that it must be genuine!" Maddie looks almost as excited as her husband. She's practically bouncing on the tips of her toes. "Maybe we should get Danny, he was the one holding the low-light camera." She pauses thoughtfully before holding up her voice recorder. "Hello, my name is Maddie Fenton. This is my husband, Jack Fenton. If you are in here, please give us a sign."
They weren't supposed to come up here yet, Danny thinks distantly, trying to cover up the dread creeping down his spine. They were supposed to stay downstairs where they were safe. But now they're in the same room as him in ghost form, something he'd tried so hard to avoid. And on top of that…
Danny turns toward Youngblood. The younger boy is intently watching his parents, head slightly tilted, face unreadable. Danny feels a surge of protective possessiveness alongside the fear. They are his family. That ghost had no right to even look at them—
"Can you tell us your name?" Maddie continues, unaware of the stare the ghost is giving her, mere feet away. "We heard of a little boy who stays here."
Youngblood flinches a bit, mouth curling downwards into a snarl. Danny floats closer, fury and horror a sickening amalgamation in his mind. " Do. Not. Touch them ," he demands. He can hardly understand his own voice. " They are mine! "
The boy turns back to him, and Danny feels relieved knowing that he's regained his adversary's attention. All of his nerves were on edge knowing he was watching his parents. The boy frowns a bit, looking confused. It might have even been boyishly cute if not for the flecks of blood on his body. " Yours ?" he repeats. A strange look of realization passes his eyes. "You… I saw you. You were with them. But you…"
"Is there anything you'd like to tell us?" Maddie asks, gently cutting through the ghost's words.
"Get out the spirit box, Mads!"
"Shh, Jack, you need to give them a moment to respond first..."
"You pretend, " the ghost says, an undetectable emotion in its voice. Anger? Envy? Fear? "You pretend to live."
" I don't pretend !" Danny growls, and he hopes, not for the first time, that he's telling the truth.
The ghost's face morphs into a facsimile of glee, sharpened teeth stretched into a too-wide smile. " Pretender , pretender ," he sings, giggling madly. The sound is amplified in the room, too loud, just like the initial shriek. Danny grits his teeth and bears it, sensing his eyes flaring dangerous green, his hands lighting up in the same way.
"Did you hear that?!" Jack gasps loudly, quivering with excitement.
"I heard something ," Maddie agrees, her voice low in a stark contrast to his. "I couldn't tell if it was the wind or not…"
"No, it sounded like laughing !" Jack enthuses.
This needs to stop. His parents are getting far too much evidence just from this one encounter. He takes a second to be thankful that he had the foresight to grab the camera. At least he only has to delete the audio file later on.
Danny's had enough. The boy is dancing around the room, singing " Pretender, pretender " and laughing as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. Given how remote this mansion is, it possibly is.
Too bad. Danny has no sympathy whatsoever when he's the subject of the joke.
Danny flings the energy he built up at the ghost boy. His playful cries are immediately cut off with an inhuman shriek as the energy hits him. It shakes the entire mansion, the pebbles and dust around the room jumping. Maddie and Jack's lights flicker on and off.
The ghost's form writhes and bubbles and twists.
Danny notices his parents shivering violently, both clutching at their jackets and arms at the sudden chill he undoubtedly caused. He's flooded with guilt—and then rolls his eyes when he sees how delighted they look.
Unfortunately, Youngblood pulls himself back together, limbs rearranging themselves like liquid. The ghost pants, but otherwise seems okay. Danny grimaces a bit; turns out this kid actually had some fight in him. Most weak ghosts would have been taken out of commission for a least a few days by that blast. He glances nervously at his parents. His father is taking out the spirit box, fiddling with the settings. He needs to hurry.
Youngblood pulls himself back together, his face no longer twisted in mockery but rage. With an inhuman snarl he lunges at Danny, forcing the latter to dive out of the way. Danny allows himself to fall through the floor, praying that the other ghost will follow him. He thanks whatever divine being might be out there when Youngblood does.
Danny might be away from his parents, but the fight is far from over. Youngblood pounces again, movements more like a predator than a child, hands twisted into long sharp claws. Danny's too slow this time, and they rake against his ethereal form. It's painfully tangible, and Danny hisses as glowing green ichor drips from his chest and onto the floor. The tips of the boy's hands are coated in it as he moves to strike again, but Danny punches back with another energy blast.
The boy screams again. Danny desperately wishes he had some ear plugs or something; ghosts were loud when they got hurt. He's utterly devastated when he notices that Youngbloodis reforming again . Again! This ghost wasn't even strong enough to form energy blasts of his own, and yet somehow his stamina was absurd. He must be extremely old to be so well-established.
Danny quickly scans the room, desperately hoping for an idea. He's not going to be able to dissolve this ghost like the weaker ones he comes across, and he doesn't have any of his parents' devices to capture it in. Usually when he fights ghosts too strong to banish, he ends up luring them away until his parents are done. But he can't do that this time. His parents will be waiting for him, and who knows what they would do if they finished their investigation and he was still missing?
His eyes land upon the mirror in the corner, and a crazy thought strikes him.
He really, really hopes those old wives were right.
"Pretender…" the ghost hisses. "You know what happens when you pretend to live…?" He giggles darkly, the sound echoing from everywhere at once. "I did it to Mommy. She didn't like seeing me again…"
Danny's gaze is torn away from the mirror, aura flaring angrily. He's had enough . " I am NOT PRETENDING!" The sound tears from his throat, rings in his ears. He hears a splintering noise; he vaguely registers that he caused the nearby dresser to crack, shards of wood flying straight through their incorporeal forms. He can't bring himself to care.
The ghost's smile falters as he stares at the broken piece of furniture, but he regains his confident smirk quickly. "Trying to play with them, just like me…" He grins darkly. "Isn't it fun?"
"Stop it," Danny says, unsure if he's pleading or demanding. "Stop. It's not. I'm not."
"When I get rid of you then I can play with them! I can pretend!" Youngblood sings, bobbing up and down in the air. "Or… I could go play with them right now, and we can see how much I can do before you can stop me!"
That snaps Danny out of his internal struggle. He has no time for this. His parents are in danger, and that's what matters right now.
He can sort out whether he's… just a ghost pretending to be human later.
(He's not. He's definitely not.)
Danny pushes his other feelings away and instead focuses on that intense protective instinct within him. He tries to force out a mocking laugh. It catches in his throat, but he'll have to work with it. "You wouldn't even get to them before me," he says. "I bet you can't even catch me now!"
Danny turns toward the mirror and begins to fly.
The boy's face twists into a combination of a pout and a snarl as he dives after Danny. Danny is sure that if he was in his corporeal form, his heart would be pounding.
It worked. Youngblood is chasing him.
This is his chance.
Danny flies over toward the mirror, gaze fixed directly above it so that he doesn't have to see his reflection. He just needs to get a little closer—
Danny pulls up at the last second, flinging himself above the mirror. He phases halfway through the wall before he's able to pull himself back.
And he does pull himself back, just in time to register Youngblood's look of surprise. He's unable to change his course so quickly, cannot react fast enough—and he flies straight into the mirror.
An unearthly cry tears through the mansion again, although unlike before, it doesn't hurt his ears. It still echoes, but the house itself remains still, the scream concentrated on a single point.
It's coming from the mirror.
The sound turns into something more akin to a sob, and Danny almost starts at how incredibly heartbroken it is. For the first time since they met, Youngblood actually sounds like the child he resembles. He sounds human .
It almost makes Danny let him out.
Almost.
Danny approaches the mirror, his feet floating just above the floor in a mimicry of walking. He stares into the mirror.
Youngblood is in there, appearance far less monstrous than before. He's crouched over, sobbing. "No, please, " he begs. "Let me out. I'll be good!"
He was trapped. Just like the legends said, Youngblood was trapped in the mirror. Whether it was a portal to the realm of the dead or not, Danny wasn't sure—but Youngblood could not escape.
" Danny! "
He hears a voice from nearby, somewhere above him. It's definitely his father calling for him. He can sense their two forms more easily now that Youngblood's overwhelming presence isn't seeping into every corner of the building. He feels the emotions that make up their auras, their love and excitement and concern whirling around above him.
He smiles a bit. Maybe it's parasitic, maybe it makes him the same as every monster he fights, but… he breathes in just a bit of that energy, steals a small portion of that love for himself. It boosts his core, tired from the fight, and brings a smile to his face.
He looks at Youngblood's pitiful form again and transforms back into a human. "I'll come back," Danny promises. "I won't leave you here forever. It might be a while, but I will."
And he means it. He would never subject someone to this fate.
He doesn't wait for Youngblood's response. Instead, he walks out the room to meet his parents as they head down the stairs.
oOo
Danny helps his parents load up the last bits of ghost hunting gear into the back of their RV (or "Ghost Assault Vehicle", as Jack has lovingly dubbed it).
His mother watches as he places the camera in the back. Maddie shuts the door after him and offers a wide grin. "That's all of it! Thanks for your help, Danny. I know this isn't your thing but… we found some amazing evidence today! They'll believe us for sure this time!"
"Right," Danny says, suddenly feeling a bit less satisfied. He knows his parents are excited. His father is already sitting in the passenger seat and appears to possibly be asleep. All the action must have worn him out, Danny thinks.
Too bad he's going to erase all that evidence they found as soon as he can.
His mother brings him into a hug and places a kiss on his head, and he feels sick, like an imposter in his own skin. He feels like he doesn't deserve the affection.
There is only one thought running through his mind right now.
"Mom, can… can some ghosts be good?" The question tumbles out in a rush. He almost doesn't want to ask. He has to force it past his lips.
She pulls away, looking down at him curiously, lips pursed in confusion at the sudden inquiry. He holds her gaze, begging with his eyes for the answer.
"Well," she begins slowly, "I guess it depends on how you define good. Some ghosts aren't hostile, of course. Some are even said to be protectors. But…" She sighs. "The energy of the dead does not mix well with the living. Even benign hauntings can cause problems. People get sick, or tired, or have sudden misfortune, or even go through personality changes. And even if they don't… ghosts feed on emotions, Danny. They need humans to even exist. Even if they're trying to do some good to get it, they are inherently selfish creatures, stealing something from others."
"I-I see." Danny gulps again. How is it possible for his hands to be sweaty, yet his throat so dry? He wipes his palms on his jeans. "B-But, I mean, do those bad things always happen? There's… definitely some ghosts that just live in peace, right?"
Maddie turns to him, a grim smile on her face. "Sorry, Danny, but no. There are always side effects. Always. "
"B-But…" His voice is uncharacteristically small. "…What if they just want to see their family again? To spend more time with them?"
He watches his mother's face grow cold: and that's when he knows that this conversation is over.
"No." She exhales, frowning firmly. "Those are the worst. The ones that try to blend back in with their own family… those ones are unforgivable. Even with good intentions, they can only cause trouble and grief. The ones that like to visit others, or worse… the ones that pretend to be human?" She shakes her head. "Those are the most dangerous of all."
Danny's heart plummets.
When his mom looks back at him, she's back to her friendly self, beaming. "Does that make sense, honey? Why are you asking?"
"N-No reason, Mom," he chokes out.
She must notice that something is off about his reaction, if the odd look she gives him says anything. But she seems to shrug it off and gestures for him to follow her. As she turns back toward the car to join Jack, Danny clenches his fists, trying to ignore his trembling body and the knot at the back of his throat. His parents, ignorant to his internal turmoil, start to swap ghost hunting tips with one another—the violent suggestions rolling off their tongues as easily as if they were discussing what to have for dinner. They can't wait for the first ghost they encounter, they say. They'll obliterate it in seconds.
This. This is why he can never let his parents find proof of the paranormal.
Because if they do… he knows he will not be far behind.
A/N: This is written for Phic Phight 2021 for Bee! Prompt: The ghost portal accident happened, but the portal didn't stay open. Danny's parents are still trying to prove the existence of ghosts and will go anywhere and to any lengths to do it. Danny Is invested in proving them wrong. (More traditional ghost story/hunting tropes)
Hope I did okay and this was what you wanted. I went fairly angsty with it and only afterward realized this could have been a bit more humorous haha. But I was extremely excited. I could totally write like 10 more fics with this AU.
Thanks to Hazama_d20 and aniura for betaing! And thanks to ayamari_no_goshi for being so kind to answer some questions on ghost lore. She's super knowledgeable and her fics are great!
Published: April 30th, 2021
Words: 5,478