There's a lot of things that Danny struggles with.
There's his general anxiety. There's his occasional post-death depression when he remembers that he fucking died. There's the occasional existential crisis that he has whenever he remembered that even though he died he's not dead. Schrodinger's dude, and all that.
But the hardest thing for him is probably the crippling daddy issues.
His dad, the big and strong Jack Fenton was a force to be reckoned with. His dad, who stood tall and proud. Proud to be able to stand tall, proud to be able to call himself a Fenton. Proud of his kids, even if he did have a funny way of showing it.
And there was no doubt in Danny's mind that his dad loved him.
But sometimes he loved his work more.
Instead of coming upstairs to his eleventh birthday party, he was down in the basement tinkering away. Instead of teaching him how to ride a bike, he was off shooting at nonexistent ghosts.
But now he was staring at his actual father. He was tall, lean, and mean. But he was here. He was engaging with Danny and asking about his interests. He wanted to know how he fit into both the human and ghost worlds so seamlessly, and it was all out of genuine curiosity. He wanted to get to know Danny, not use him as some sort of tool. For Danny, it was more than refreshing.
Loki was proud, to say the least. He had a wonderful son and a wonderful daughter who had carved their place in both worlds. They helped people and they cared for each other like siblings should, and they didn't betray each other. They were equals, through and through. And they had a great handle on their powers. For doing it all mostly alone, with nobody to teach them until now, he was impressed. And the God of Mischief was not so easily impressed.
"They're quite strong, aren't they, Brother," Thor said as he walked up to the glass where Loki was standing. He was watching as his children sparred with each other. It was like he was watching a ballet. There was no verbal communication, just an understanding through actions. It was beautiful, watching them dance around each other. It was something he had the taste of, growing up with Thor. They, however, had never been equals.
"Well, we all know now who they got it from," Loki said cheekily.
Thor threw his head back and laughed, and Loki braced himself as his brother's large hand clapped itself on his shoulder and squeezed. Loki couldn't help but smile to himself. He was here, and he had kids, and he was getting along with his brother, and there was no anger. The familiar tightness in his chest was no longer there, after centuries of festering as he lived in his brother's shadow. Because now he was being treated not only like an equal, but as a friend. As family.
He was proud to call this place home.
And he was proud to call Danny and Elle his children.