Author's note: This oneshot is a detour from my normal Megariel content (which I had to take a small hiatus from working on due to getting a new job, I'll be starting back on it soon!) but I was inspired by a post on the-stove-is-on-fire's tumblr blog about Spideypool adopting Danny Fenton. The last part of this is directly related to that post (the-stove-is-on-fire tumblr co m /post/636905939274989568/deadpool-its-a-teenage-boy-with-black-hair-and). It also seemed appropriate for Trans Day Of Visibility, Danny being the trans icon that he is!

Danny Fenton sat next to Great Aunt May on one of the plush blue couches in the living room. Wade, who sat on the far side of the couch, had wanted to get leather seating but Peter, who sat between Wade and Danny, had insisted on inventing a new stain-proof fabric because Wade couldn't be trusted not to make a mess. On the other couch were Jazz, Grandma Pepper, Aunt Morgan, and Grandpa Tony, who was lifting a wrapped box toward Danny.

"Happy birthday, kiddo!" he said.

"Thanks, Grandpa!" Danny said, eagerly ripping open the paper to see what treasures lay within, "Oh awesome! I've been wanting to play this game forever! I didn't even think it was out yet!"

"It's not," Grandpa Tony said, "I pulled some strings."

"You're the best!"

"There's one more thing," Grandpa Tony said, pointing toward the box.

Danny dug further into the tissue paper.

"A key?" Danny asked.

"It's a key to your birthparents' house," Grandpa Tony said, "They were good friends of mine and when they died I bought their house and maintain it so you and Jazz could go there when you were old enough," he paused and looked around at Peter, Wade, and Jazz, "I already talked it over with your dads and Jazz and we figure since you're 14 now it's time to give you the option to go there."

He looked between Grandpa Tony and his dads, then at Jazz.

"Have you gone there yet?" Danny asked.

"No, I wanted to wait until we could go together," she said.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

Peter placed a hand gently on Danny's shoulder.

"Of course, son, take all the time you need," he said.

That night, after the party was over and the guests had gone home, Danny lay staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts raced around in his skull like the spinning blades of his ceiling fan so that just when he thought he had caught one long enough to get a good look at it he would find it had flown from his grasp. Of course Danny had known he and Jazz were adopted. Peter and Wade had been very upfront about that. They had also made sure Jazz and Danny knew they were loved and wanted. Danny would be lying if he said he had never been curious about his birth parents. He didn't know or remember much about them, and some part of him had always wondered where he'd come from, but Peter and Wade had been so good to them he never really felt like he had been lacking for anything.

When Danny was 10 he came out as trans and they had immediately put him on puberty blockers, switched to his new name and pronouns, and gotten him a haircut. Peter and Wade had never cared about clothing so even when Danny was young they had let him pick out "boy" clothes, which meant he didn't have to get a new wardrobe when he came out. Jazz and their dads had Danny's back during his social transition, correcting people when they used the wrong name or pronouns and defending him when people tried to tell him he was just going through a phase. Danny really couldn't have asked for a better upbringing. So do I really need to know more about my birth parents? He thought.

Just then, he heard a soft knock at his door. He turned to see Jazz standing in the hall outside his room.

"Hey," she said, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," he said, sitting up against his pillows.

"How are you doing?"

"Just trying to process."

"I get that," Jazz said, "It took me a while to wrap my head around the fact that our birth parents' house is still intact, that we can actually go there and find out about them."

"Do you remember them?" Danny asked.

"Not much," she said, "I was only 4 when they died. I think they wore jumpsuits a lot?"

"Jumpsuits?"

Jazz shrugged.

"It was 12 years ago, I could be misremembering."

"I don't know if I want to go, Jazz," Danny admitted, "Part of me wants to find out more about them but we already have parents, you know?"

Jazz sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Listen, Danny," she said, "I'm not going to tell you what to do or how to feel. If you decide you don't want to go to the house I'm not going to make you, and neither are Peter or Wade. This is your call. I want to go eventually and if you want to go then we'll go together but if you don't that's okay too. I can always go with Peter or Grandpa Tony," she paused and pulled him into a big hug, "Take some time to think it over so you make the right choice for you and then let me know what you decide when you're ready."

"Thanks, Jazz," Danny said, leaning in return his sister's hug.

"Any time," she said, standing up, "I'm going to bed. Make sure you get some rest too, birthday boy."

Danny nodded absentmindedly.

"Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny stood, key in hand, in front of a house that simultaneously felt vaguely familiar and vastly alien to him. There was a large bunch of tech on top of the house that looked like some kind of UFO and a huge light-up sign that read "Fenton Works." Who the hell were these people? Danny thought. After a few agonizing weeks he had decided to come learn what he could about his birth parents and Peter had agreed to drive them to the old Fenton residence. He didn't break his gaze from the house as he felt Jazz take his free hand in hers.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be," he said, stepping up to put the key in the door.

The three of them walked into the living room, which Danny immediately noticed had purple walls. On the far wall was an opening to a bright green kitchen.

"Wow," Jazz said, "They had some, uh, interesting tastes in interior design."

"What until you see the lab in the basement," Peter said.

"The WHAT?!" Danny and Jazz said in unison.

"Why is everyone in our lives some kind of scientist or science experiment?" Jazz asked.

"Or both, in Grandpa Tony's case," Danny added.

Peter shrugged.

"Just lucky, I guess."

"What did they even do here?" Danny asked.

"They were inventors. They used their tech to hunt ghosts," Peter said.

"Ghosts?" Jazz said incredulously, "Really?"

Peter nodded.

"So they were crazy," she said.

"They preferred to be called 'misunderstood geniuses.'"

"Sure, geniuses on a mission to catch Casper."

"Jazz," Danny interjected, "Our dads have super powers, Wade is constantly breaking the laws of physics, Grandpa Tony has personally met aliens and deities, and you're hung up on ghosts?"

Jazz raised her finger and opened her mouth as if to counter his argument but then, seeming to think better of it, she lowered her hand and closed her mouth as an annoyed look overtook her face.

"Let's look around some more," she said.

"Can I go down to the lab?" Danny asked.

"I want to look up here first," Jazz said.

"Can I go look around by myself, Dad?" Danny asked, turning on his saddest puppy eyes.

"Okay, okay," Peter said, "Just be careful. Don't touch anything and put on one of the jumpsuits so you don't accidentally get anything on your clothes."

"Awesome!" Danny said, already searching for the staircase to the basement.

He quickly found it, descended into the drab gray laboratory, and slipped into one of the jumpsuits hanging on the wall as per Peter's request. The lab was lined with consoles that had glowing panels and various buttons and switches, counters and tables covered with all kinds of lab equipment from microscopes to complicated networks of flasks and tubes, and a very cluttered work desk covered in noted, equations, and diagrams but the thing that really caught Danny's attention was the massive metal archway on the far side of the room. It sat open and he squinted to try and make out what was inside. It appeared to be the entrance to some sort of tunnel. Couldn't hurt to take a closer look, he thought.

Carefully, Danny crept into the dark tunnel. He could hardly see anything in the dim light. What the hell is this thing? He thought as he walked distractedly forward with his hands out in front of him. Before he could contemplate the structure further, his outstretched hand ran right into something small and round. The thing gave a click, a pit forming in Danny's stomach as the tunnel lit up like the 4th of July with swirling green shapes he couldn't identify. The light seemed to pass right through him and he felt as much as heard the scream that ripped from his chest as every atom of his being burned.

The next thing he knew he was on the floor outside the tunnel. He awoke to someone shaking him by the shoulders.

"Danny!" Jazz cried frantically, "Danny, please get up!"

He sat up slowly and clutched his aching head with a groan, only to give another when Jazz threw her arms tightly around him and forced the air out of his lungs.

"I thought you were dead," she said.

"What happened?" Danny managed.

"I don't know, kiddo," Peter said, "But you might want to look in a mirror."

"What?"

Peter and Jazz hoisted Danny up so he could see his reflection on the shiny glass screen of a large monitor on the wall. Oh shit. His hair had turned a stark white and his once blue eyes were glowing the same radioactive green that had filled the tunnel before he had lost consciousness. What the fuck? He thought, his panic rising exponentially as he leaned on the monitor with one hand to get a better look at himself. Suddenly, he was falling forward and his face smacked into the glass.

"Danny!" Jazz called.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, reaching out to steady his son.

"I think s–"

His train of thought was completely derailed by the sight of his forearm, or lack thereof. He wiggled his fingers and clinched his fist. He could still feel his hand. Is my arm…invisible? He thought.

"Danny," Peter said gently, "I think your panicking is making things worse. Look right at me," he paused as he oriented Danny's shoulders so they were facing each other, "And a take a deep, slow breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth," he paused to demonstrate the technique and waited for Danny to copy him, "Good, one more time," he paused for Danny's breath, "Remember when you were 5 and Aunt May asked you to help her pick a puppy?" he asked.

"Yeah?" Danny said, torquing his eyebrows in confusion.

"There were so many," Peter continued, "How did you know you picked the right one?"

"Donut was the only one who came up to give both of us kisses," Danny said, "And he fell asleep in my lap. I thought he seemed like a good dog for Aunt May."

As Danny thought back to that childhood memory he felt a strange tingling all over his body, like everything was shifting ever so slightly. He looked down and he could see his arm again. He snapped his head up to look back into the glass monitor, where his reflection showed his natural black hair and blue eyes.

"I'm back to normal!" he said, "How did you know that would work, Dad?"

"I freaked out really hard when I first got my powers. I ended up stuck to a wall with no idea how to get down. It wasn't until I took a second to calm down that I was able to unstick myself. I figured it might be something similar with whatever that was," Peter said.

"Do you think that'll happen again?" Danny asked.

"Probably," Peter admitted, "But for now I think we've all had enough excitement and we should head home. I'll bring you kids back here later if you want," he paused and looked directly at Danny, "With thorough supervision, of course."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny held his head in his hands, quite literally. He had finally mastered the trick where he could stretch an invisible bit of his body from his neck to the base of his head so it looked like his head was no longer attached. His two years of training had really paid off. Peter and Wade, and even Jazz, had helped him master his powers but he had been cooking this one up in secret for the express purpose of ghostly shenanigans. Jazz was away at college and Peter was still out for the day. Which means my first victim is –

"Hey, Danny," Wade's voice came around the corner as he approached the living room, "Did you eat the last pudding cup?"

"Maybe."

"Bruh! I totally called dibs on that o–" Wade paused, taking in the scene before him, "Danny, what the fuck happened to your head?! Ugh! Peter's gonna kill me!" he added.

Danny stuck out his tongue.

"I'm fine, just a little," here he paused to toss his head into the air, "Lightheaded!"

"You little shit, that was beautiful!" Wade said, pulling a small throwing knife seemingly out of nowhere and chucking it at Danny.

"Dad, what the hell?"

"I'm not 'Dad,' I'm Deadpool! I'm here to eating pudding and throw knives," he paused, lowering his voice, "And I'm all out of pudding."

He threw a barrage of knives at Danny, who nimbly dodged the projectiles and lobbed a pillow from the couch right at Wade's face. Each knife lodged itself into a different part of the couch as Danny fired off multiple blasts of ghost fire.

"Hey, Siri, play the Ghost Busters theme. I'm going hunting," Wade said, brandishing the pillow and another knife at Danny.

Just then, they heard the front door open.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," came Peter's voice, "There was a thing I had to take care of on the way home –"

He froze at the sight of his husband and son sparring in the living room, his handful of groceries seemingly forgotten.

"Danny started it!" Wade said quickly.

"Deadpool, you fucking snitch!" Danny called, pointing an accusatory finger at Wade.

"Language!" Peter said.

"Yeah, Danny, watch your fucking language," Wade said, giggling under his breath.

"Wade!"

"What?"

Peter sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a circular motion.

"All right," he said quietly to himself, "So the new couches need to be stain-proof, knife-proof, and fire-proof. You two are in charge of putting the groceries away."

"Did you get more pudding cups?" Wade asked hopefully.

Peter looked him dead in the eyes as he extracted two packages of pudding cups from one of the bags and tucked them under his arm.

"No," he said, "Now go put this stuff away and clean up this mess," he added, gesturing toward the living room.

He turned and headed, pudding still in tow, to his study.

Wade wiped away a single tear as the pudding vanished from sight.

"Oof," said Danny.