Chapter 12: Answers

Grayson... who would have thought the world most mysterious teen would have such a public identity? The tinkle of a bell drew Danny's focus away from the monitor, eyes snapping up to canvas the interior of the internet café. One of the other customers had left. He rolled his shoulders, settling into the small corner seat. Going out in public was a risk, and it paid to be careful. The halfa turned back to the screen, typing a few new keywords into the search engine. Nine months on the run had made him remarkably diligent when it came to his 'homework'. Mr Lancer would have been proud. 'Though really it was Tuck' who did most of the work...' Danny bit down the pang, fixing his attention on the news clippings he'd found.

It was surprising how many results he'd managed from just a name. Usually Googling someone pulled up one or two useful hits, but apparently the dynamic duo had the most public private lives in the history of herodom. Now that he knew what to look for it was fairly easy to pick out the slim, neatly dressed, blue-eyed boy standing beside Gotham's most influential socialite. A domino mask and some gel could only hide so much. Though he was hardly one to talk. At least Robin hadn't used his first name as part of his alter-ego. Danny was grateful that most people chose to overlook that particular mistake when referring to his ghost half.

Anyway, Richard Grayson. The son – or more accurately, ward – of multibillionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. Taken in by the businessman after his family's trapeze act went terribly wrong. Nine years old, foul play suspected. Familiar tightness seized the halfa's throat; a sudden prick of sympathy for the younger boy. Robin always seemed so assured, so happy next to his mentor. He never would have guessed... Danny quickly closed the tab, moving on to other topics. As far as the rest of the world knew, Dick Grayson lived the typical life of the city's somewhat eccentric upper class. Didn't spend a lot of time in the public eye but occasionally made headlines at national Mathletics competitions – of all things – or attending charity balls at the elbow of his guardian.

'Bruce Wayne.' Just when he though the Batman couldn't get more intimidating. The 'King of Gotham' – even without the masks the dynamic duo had half the city under their thumb. Not to mention the rest of the world. Wayne Enterprises was enormous. Global spread, footholds in manufacturing, health sciences, transport, entertainment, advanced technologies... even his parents' business – which prided itself on original tech – carried the W.E. logo on the few generic components it outsourced. The halfa whistled through his teeth, struck by newfound respect for the cowled figure. Impossible, absolutely impossible...

But at the same time it made a lot of sense. The suits, the huge array of tech and vehicles, even the way the Justice League funded itself... the ultimate hiding in plain sight because the idea was so stupidly ridiculous. What sane person would expect the two most reclusive heroes to be headlining in the Gotham Gazette every other day? That the dapper, polished duo standing with easy grace and casually refined smiles for the cameras could hold their own against some of the world's worst villains? Sam would have been mortified. The Dark Knight and his apprentice were the closest thing she had to a 'favourite' hero – not that she'd ever admit to liking something so 'mainstream' – but when it came to 'those superficial upper-class flakies who swan about with their PR smiles and token charity groups and never do anything to solve the real problems'... even her violet gloss would have turned red. Tucker would freak. He'd totally geek out at the idea of knowing any Leaguer's identity – Dani joining in. And Jazz... Jazz would have been ecstatic. The idea of meeting other people who lived double lives – she'd have gone overboard with the psychoanalysis, asking questions, wondering which mask was the 'real' one, if they'd ever had the same issues as her 'little brother'... Danny shook his head violently against the sudden stab of pain. 'Jeez Fenton, why do you do that to yourself?' He needed to think clearly, which meant not thinking about them. About the fact that they were... 'Okay, stopping that thought right there.'

The halfa traced the table top with a fingernail, ignoring everything except the non-existent patterns in the cheap finish. In hindsight the whole thing felt foolish. All the caution, the evasion... Clockwork was right. It was safe. He probably could have told himself that a few days ago but something had always held him back. Had urged him to wait, even though he really didn't need to, even though he was running out of other topics. He definitely hadn't expected Robin to come and find him on his own. To make that offer. Danny rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away the dark circles. How long had it been since he'd actually talked to someone? Had an actual conversation, not just the necessary few-minute exchange to get food and shelter? He was really truly, hopelessly out of practice with other people wasn't he? It was going to be okay. And just in case he needed more proof, there were no links between the Waynes and red flags like Axion or DALVcorp. No Danger. No Vlad. Besides, the Boy Wonder had put his neck on the block for him. Even if he wasn't sure, that kind of gesture deserved something in return.

He'd just have to hope they'd understand.


Fenton, Daniel J.
Age: 15
Date of birth: March 25 1995
Appearance: Caucasian/ Dark Hair/ Blue eyes/ Thin Build
Official Status: Deceased.

Which actually explained a lot.

Robin sighed, reaching up to massage his temples. Somehow the idea that the ghost's partner could also be 'dead' had managed to slip right past him. It was almost embarrassing. He carefully retraced his steps through the databases, being sure to erase all signs of his search. Not something he usually would bother with – even skilled hackers had difficulty following his trail – but if the people he was up against were willing to stalk a teenager for nine months then it paid to take extra precautions. The Boy Wonder finished backdating the entry logs, turning his attention to the small pile of newly 'acquired' information. Daniel Fenton's life might seem average at a glance, but the more abnormal parts were definitely noteworthy.

Fenton. The name had felt familiar as soon as he heard it. Amity Park's most prominent 'ghost hunters'. A small family– parents Madeline and Jack, older daughter Jasmine. Danny was the youngest. As far as the rest of the world knew, all four members had been laid to rest in the Amity Park Cemetery. The victims of the two worst non-ghost-related tragedies in the town's recent history.

He started with the second incident, the one that linked more directly to his case. Four faces appeared on screen. Jasmine, Daniel and two family friends – Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley. The teens had disappeared within a week of the first disaster; declared dead after the family home and business – Fenton Works – was destroyed by an explosion. Exact cause unknown, attributed to improper storage of volatile chemicals in the on-site laboratory. Occupational Health and Safety had raised concerns about the building before. No bodies recovered – the blast had all but vaporised the basement and the rest of the house apparently wasn't much better – but sufficient forensic evidence and witness statements were gathered to place all four children on premises at the time. Local authorities had pursued the case a little further than normal in light of recent events, but no-one in the town had pushed for added information. A knot of empathy tied itself in Robin's chest. There'd been no push for the truth because nobody had been there to do the pushing. The teens' parents were confirmed deceased less than a week earlier. The first tragedy. Another explosion – reportedly due to a dysfunctional boiler – at the local school, Casper High. This time there was little room for doubt; the accident had claimed the lives of Madeline, Jack, Angela and Maurice Foley, Pamela and Jeremy Manson and vice principle Edward Lancer. A parent-teacher meeting gone horribly wrong. The detective winced. He'd already suspected the truth, but to see it laid out so starkly... Eyes in different shades of blue, green and violet watched him from the monitor. Danny was still very much alive, so maybe, just maybe... but the sour feeling in his stomach and the air of loneliness that surrounded the older boy warned him not to hope. The teen had obviously been flying alone for a while.

He shook away the thought, highlighting one of the photos. The face was younger, a little rounder, cheeks a little fuller, shorter hair, brighter smile – but still definitely the boy from the locker. So what was the connection? The appearance of 'Phantom' had heralded the town's great streak of hauntings. Both events supposedly linked back to a somehow stable portal to the other side. And at the same time, Danny Fenton's life had been turned upside down. A well-behaved, polite – if geeky and somewhat clumsy – high B average student had become a complete anarchist almost overnight. Barely passing, sleeping in class, tardiness, ditching school completely... and the nurses reports. Unexplained bruises, cuts, claw marks, burns, occasionally something more serious... all with flimsy excuses, and apparently only reported when concerned teachers forced the teen into going to the school office. No-one had been able to understand why. Bullying was considered and discarded, subtle enquiries into the teen's home life indicated that the family were their usual, eccentric but supportive, selves and the town lacked the big-city gang, fight or drug cultures that could otherwise cause the change. Eventually it had been decided that Daniel suffered from a debilitating phobia of the paranormal. His behaviour reportedly worsened when ghosts were about and he was almost never present during attacks.

Gloved fingers drummed the keys in agitation. It would all have been consistent with someone moonlighting as 'the Phantom's' partner, but no matter how the Boy Wonder looked at it, he couldn't make that theory stick. For one thing, the kid was a Fenton. A member of the family so frequent vocal and actively aggressive in opposing the ghost that they had made it into the urban myths. Even as scientists, their research centred around the 'inherent evil' of the spirits, detailing creatures that were as lacking in their capacity to feel pain and emotion as they were to be fully sentient. It didn't make sense for someone raised in that environment to even approach a ghost, let alone strike up an alliance with one. And even if the individual members of the family had never been named in the stories, how was it that no-one had made mention of the supposed 'partner'? The teen had to have been doing field work, and frequently too. So why had nobody ever seen him? He was still missing something. There had to be a connection, some fact he was overlooking, a fundamental assumption he was making. Robin pulled up the file containing what little solid evidence they had gathered on the ghost, fully intending to pick every inch of the information apart-

And froze.

It was one of the few clear images he had recovered from the government files, taken within weeks of the dark-haired teen's class photo. One of few files to feature a full-face shot of the spectre. He enlarged the image, lightening and enhancing, laying it next to the picture of the other boy. The ghost's aura altered the shadows enough to escape a casual glance, but the angle of the cheekbones, the shape of the eyes, the line of the nose and jaw, right down to the haircut...

A fundamental assumption. Two equal and opposite forces, two concepts that were so absolutely defined that no-one would think to look. Like a catalyst the thought sparked a chain reaction of memories. Small inconsistencies, abnormalities that meant nothing on their own but taken together... The tracer. Never online when Fenton was present. A door that couldn't be locked from the inside. The abnormally low thermal reading. Faint green flashes in the blue eyes when the teen was threatened or pushed too close to dangerous territory. The vague, two-way answers. "He's your partner." "Wouldn't exactly put it that way"... "I don't ever really see him"... "It's complicated"... "That's not how it works."

And another detail. When the ghost had first claimed a name for himself it had had two parts. The first had faded out over the months but it appeared too often to be a random embellishment.

The penny tumbled, hitting the ground with a clang that shook reality.

Phantom. Danny Phantom. Danny.

'How is that possible?'


If Miss Martian had set up a mindlink right now, she probably would have gotten a headache. Robin's brain felt like it was in overdrive, trying to make sense of the new realisation. The world was full of grey areas, of middle grounds – most of the work he did with Batman fell outside of the black and white. But some things had to be defined, had to be cut-and-dried... didn't they? He kept looking for the alternatives, for other evidence... but everything he found only seemed to add strength to his epiphany. Exactly what was Daniel Fenton? A human with ghost-like powers, passing himself off as one of the undead? A ghost who'd taken on a human form, the same way Martians and other aliens concealed themselves to blend in on earth? Or was his theory completely wrong?

Hopefully he was about to find out.

The inside of the locker looked the same as it did every night. Robin carefully scanned the room, taking in any possible differences. Danny stood in his usual corner, presence seeming to emphasise the lack of an expected second figure. Realisation nudged the young hero again. The teen rubbed absently at his neck, looking up at the sound of the opening door.

"Hey." A mutter and a nod answered the Boy Wonder's greeting, hand dropping to toy with the hem of his sleeve. The detective's gaze wandered the walls. Invisibility was a definite option, but from the way the other boy was acting... Danny already fidgeted more than 'Damien' ever had. "So," he studied the teen carefully, "will he be here soon?"

The same oddly uncomfortable look flashed across the older boy's face. He glanced down, tugging at his collar. "I... um, look. About that..." he swallowed nervously, "there's something... the truth is..."

"You're him." Robin finally let himself admit his suspicions.

Danny froze. Surprise. Fear. Guilt. They danced across the teen's face before settling into resignation. He sighed, biting his lip as his head dipped in affirmation. The detective's first theory had turned out to be the right one. The idea that he had, until a few hours ago, discarded on the grounds that it was too improbable to be real.

And yet, here they were.

Robin raised an expectant eyebrow, making a gesture of invitation. Danny seemed to force himself to meet the young hero's gaze, glancing back down as hesitantly stepped away from the wall. He paused, arms hanging loosely by his sides.

A spark flared.

Cold white light bloomed around the teen's midriff, splitting into two rings that swept outwards from his core. As they moved they changed, pulling smooth black fabric over loose-fitting street clothes, pouring electrified green into the pale blue, turning fair skin dark as colour bleached from the raven hair. A faint, misty glow joined the lamp's dull yellow, the already cold temperature dropping noticeably. Reaching the floor and empty air, the light flickered and died.

A familiar ghost watched from where the boy once stood.

The detective appraised the difference, scientific curiosity drawn to the paradox. The transformation had inverted the teen's colours – all except the eyebrows, which, for whatever reason, remained dark in both forms – but in build and body shape everything else remained the same. Clearly still Daniel Fenton, just more... spectral. Neon eyes shone with unearthly light, a fainter glow from the white hair adding to the dim aura that cast pale shadows over several feet of cement. Unfamiliar dark fabric – possibly a form of latex – stretched over a frame that was taller, more sharply angled than the photos of Amity Park's self-appointed protector. Older, thinner; someone who had seen harder times than the confident fourteen year old from the pictures. He... seemed really nervous, the Boy Wonder realised. Shoulders hunched slightly, leaning away from the analytical stare. Unexpected fear lit the brilliant green, an almost pleading edge to worried glances. Uneasy. Probably not of an attack – the Boy Wonder was painfully aware of how underpowered he was compared to a ghost – so there had to be something else, something that worried the spirit more than... 'Oh'.

Robin sent the teen an apologetic smile. "So, you're a ghost?" He kept his voice casual, acting as though it was the most normal question in the world. A small amount of tension bled out of the older boy's frame, fear softening to caution as he nodded.

"When I'm like this, yes." The Boy Wonder blinked, grateful for the mask that hid his surprise. He'd forgotten the strange, faintly hollow echo that layered the spirit's voice. The ghost sounded haunted.

"And you go by 'Phantom'?" They hadn't been corrected on their use of the title, but after the number of times people had butchered Kid Flash's name he felt compelled to check. The spectre dipped his head. "Wait..." Robin paused, noticing a difference in the previous answer "when you're like this? What happens the rest of the time?"

Phantom tugged at his glove, hand lifting to his neck in a familiar motion. "I'm... human." His mouth twisted ruefully. "Well, half human anyway." Robin's brow furrowed. A human with ghost powers was understandable. A spectre that could take on a human appearance made sense. But a... part-ghost?

"How?"

"I'm what people call a halfa. A hybrid," the spirit elaborated. "Half a kid, half a ghost." He glanced his way, seeming to anticipate a question, "And no, we're not born like this." Robin grimaced – an idea he could definitely have done without. Besides, all records suggested the Fenton's were one hundred percent human.

"Then how?"

The ghost ran a thumb over his chin, seemingly unsure of how to approach the topic. "How... How much do you know about my family?"

"They were researchers," The Boy Wonder stepped lightly, knowing he was walking potentially sensitive ground. "Specialised in ecto-biology... ghost science." He'd picked up a few of their papers out of interest. The high level physics and chemical spectra involved were more Wally's territory, but he'd got the gist. "Inventors," the business had supplied most of the publicly available ecto-tech in Amity Park, as well as some clean-energy modified pieces further afield. Then there were the urban legends, "and hunters."

Phantom tucked his chin, eyes turning distant. "Yeah..." he shook his head slightly, refocusing on the younger hero. "I told you that Amity Park's ghost problem was because of a stable portal, right?" Robin nodded curiously. "Well, what I didn't tell you was that it was our portal." 'Wait what?' The ghost sighed. "My parents' big project. They were trying to open a permanent door to the Ghost Zone – get real data to work with. They'd been at it since their college days and when they tried this time... well, it flopped again. Or, at least that's what we all though. I was down in the lab with my friends a couple of days later. They wanted to see it... and I got curious enough to go inside." He grimaced, "There was an internal backup switch."

The detective's stomach turned over. "You mean you were...?"

"Standing in the portal when it came online." The ghost shivered, rubbing his arm. "Not exactly a party." Robin's skin crawled. Trapped inside something designed to punch through to another dimensional plane, exposed to who-knew-what kind of warping forces. The sheer amount of energy... forget dying, anything caught by that should have been obliterated. The idea made his throat clench. Phantom was lucky to even be half alive. 'Half alive.' The Boy Wonder blinked, suddenly registering another, bizarre, implication of the teen's status.

"Do you know what happened?" The ghost gave him an inquisitive look. "Physiologically," the detective clarified. "How does the 'halfa' thing work?"

"I... have no clue," he admitted. "Halfas... let's face it, we're freaks." Phantom's mouth twitched in a self-depreciating, almost bitter smile. "There's only ever been, what – three of us? In all of history. We're not really supposed to exist, so it's not like there's any information out there." He sighed tiredly. "The best we we've been able to guess is that my DNA is... fused with ectoplasm from the Zone. Or coated in it, or made of it – I don't know for sure. It's not like I can just walk into a hospital or a lab and get it checked." The ghost shrugged the words away with a dismissive noise; an attempt at nonchalance that couldn't quite hide the loneliness in his eyes. Robin wondered how many sleepless nights Phantom had had over the same question.

"You know," he offered, "the League has contacts in some high-end research labs. If you ever wanted to find out... we'd make sure the information stayed safe. They're already used to dealing with supers and aliens so you wouldn't have to worry – they know not to ask too many questions." The teen gave him a startled look, smile warming into something more genuine.

"I'll remember that."

The Boy Wonder's gaze drifted to the white glove that covered the spirit's right hand. The glove he had coated with tracer gel. Batman had known he was planning to head out early, but his mentor should have seen the signal come online by now. And depending on when he'd responded to the beacon... Robin glanced over his shoulder at the door.

It didn't go unnoticed. "He'll be here soon, right?" The detective nodded, shifting his position so that he could see the entrance. Phantom shifted as well, sending the young hero a concerned glance. "Um... does he know? You know," the halfling gestured towards himself, "about this?"

"Probably," he hadn't exactly told Bruce his new theory, but he had left the new files prominently on his desk before leaving. "He'll have figured it out by now."

Phantom stiffened, eyes darting to the steel tracks of the door. The ghost straightened, setting his shoulders as the handle clicked and a second, darker shadow joined them in the vault. The Bat seemed completely unsurprised by the presence of the spectre, moving quietly to stand with his protégé. Robin sent a faintly smug grin his mentor's way, receiving a slight upward shift in the lines around the Dark Knight's mouth before the elder hero slipped back into business mode.

"Daniel Fenton?" Batman appraised the young ghost, directing a questioning glance at the Boy Wonder. Robin dipped his chin in unspoken answer. "Why didn't you tell us?"

The spirit hesitated. "About that." He exhaled, "I... owe you an apology. I've made this way harder than it needed to be. I guess I'm out of practice trusting people – and I'm not all that great at taking advice – but still…" Phantom shook his head, moving his hand in a gesture of peace, "for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I should've been straight with you to begin with." A smile crept onto the Boy Wonder's face. He could sense Batman's surprise beside him; apologies – at least, genuine ones – were rare on the job. Especially from the person they were investigating.

"How much of what you've told us is true?"

"Everything. I might have left some parts out but I wasn't lying."

"Then why hide the truth at all?"

Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly? I've never been good with secrets. Even back in Amity there were times when I should have told people – when I owed it to them – but…" he looked down, melancholy regret burning behind his eyes before they were obscured by the shock of white hair. He quickly brushed the bangs away. "And the way things have been going, if something had leaked – if the right information got into the wrong hands… well, it would be bad. For everyone. Humans and ghosts."

"Good reasons to hold back. But you understand that..."

"You have questions. I get it. So," the ghost watched the duo expectantly, "what do you want to know?"

The Boy Wonder flicked an incredulous look the Dark Knight's way. After so long on the case there was something almost laughable about the idea of just asking for information. Batman reached into a pocket of his uniform, unaffected by his charge's amusement as he withdrew a number of printed pages. It was unfortunate but, by necessity, the topic they had to start with was an unpleasant one.

"You've had some bad press." The majority of the myths seemed to be positive, but there were a substantial number of critics amongst the fans. Many simply opposed the idea of a ghost, but some of the specifics were... disturbing to say the least. Robin gave the articles a dubious look. More than half of what he'd read had to be borrowed straight from old-school horror stories – word for word in some cases – and he couldn't see the Danny showing the kind of cold-blooded cruelty other rumours wanted to paint on him. But the allegations were severe enough to warrant following up.

The spectre thumbed through the file, expression morphing from curiosity to distaste. He glanced up at the elder hero.

"Where did you get these?"

"The same places that gave us our initial information. Obviously we can't put credence in the source," the sites were riddles with misinformation, as they had found throughout the nights of interrogation, "but as you can see some of claims are very serious." The Dark Knight fixed the teenager sternly in his sights. Phantom didn't seem like the criminal type... but then again, neither would most of the people they faced.

"That's not saying we believe them," Robin was quick to add, "but we need to hear your side of the story. Routine practice, you know?"

The ghost nodded, turning a few more pages. He paused on a particular article, wincing as he rubbed his chin. "Okay to start with, this one's completely wrong. The Red Huntress is real, but she's not trying to avenge anyone. I never touched her family."

"Then what happened?"

Phantom sighed. "There was this ghost dog – Cujo. He used to be a guard dog for the company where Red's dad worked but when they went electronic all the dogs, well..." he trailed off, making an indicative motion. "Anyway, Cujo kept going back to the lab to get this squeaky toy that was buried in the kennels. He'd wreck the place, I'd try to stop him... her dad was head of security. He almost got fired because the system couldn't keep him out. They lost a lot."

"That doesn't explain the grudge against you."

A vaguely exasperated look crossed the ghost's face. "Red thought Cujo was my dog. That I owned him..."

"...and that you were setting him on the building," Robin finished. That would explain her reportedly specific loathing of the town protector. "She thought you were trying to destroy her father's reputation."

"More or less. Once it was over, I tried to explain but..." he made a defeated gesture.

"She still holds you responsible."

"Exactly. Blames me, hates me for it... she thinks ghosts are nothing but trouble." Phantom looked down at the paper with repulsion, "But I swear I never hurt her Dad. I was trying to fix things between us." The same tired regret flickered in his eyes, hand waving helplessly towards the page. "I have no idea where that story came from."

The Boy Wonder nodded sympathetically. It wouldn't be the first time a hero – or villain for that matter – had fallen victim to the rumour mill. Even the most publically active League members couldn't completely escape the speculations of the general public. Themselves included. Both he and Batman had encountered some truly appalling attempts to detail their origins and motives; the tip of the iceberg compared to the stories that circulated around their super-powered colleagues.

"Okay, that makes sense."

"But there have been other allegations." The Dark Knight glanced at the file in the teen's hands. The violence of the 'Huntress' myths may have been overblown but they were only one slice in a thick stack of claims. Phantom made a face as he turned to the next story.

"Before you ask, I never kidnapped the mayor, or anyone else. That was a set up."

"By who?"

"Another ghost. Walker. He's the prison warden."

Robin raised an eyebrow, "The Ghost Zone has a jail?" They'd briefly touched the Flipside's geography and social hierarchy, but its legal system hadn't been something they'd considered. The ghost nodded.

"Yeah, and laws to go with it."

Batman's eyes narrowed, not liking the implications. "You broke the law?"

"In a way..." Phantom's mouth twisted strangely, "But not really."

The Boy Wonder's mask creased, trying to make sense of the statement. "What's that supposed to mean?" You either broke the law or you didn't. Courts didn't typically have halfway points – unless the afterlife worked by a different process.

"Well, different regions of the Zone have their own laws. Most are pretty standard – don't kill, don't steal, don't start pointless fights, that sort of thing – but Walker is... crazy. In his corner he's the lawmaker, enforcer, judge, jury, jailor and the executioner all at the same time." The Bat held back a snort. No system based on a single, unquestionable power remained 'fair and just' for long. Apparently some things were constant even in death. "He has rules for everything and anything – loitering, possessing real world items... right down to the colour of your socks. Every time I come back, he's added a new one." Phantom grimaced at a memory. "A thousand years is his idea of a lenient sentence, and that would be for something small. He had half the ghosts I know locked away for basically no reason."

It didn't take a detective's skills for Robin to see where the story was headed. "I'm guessing you..."

"Broke out, yeah. Obviously he didn't like that very much and decided to get revenge."

"By making it look like you kidnapped the mayor?" A small amount of scepticism bled into the Bird's tone.

"He said something about 'making the human world into my own personal prison'." The ghost rolled his eyes, clearly in agreement with the Boy Wonder's sentiment. "He and some of his goons overshadowed-"

"Overshadowed?"

"Possessed," Phantom clarified. "Took over their bodies." Unease prickled down Robin's shoulders; he'd half-hoped that particular power was a myth. "Anyway, they overshadowed the mayor, some of the students, the head of the school... put everyone on lockdown. Turned the town against me," the frustration in his voice was clear. "Made it seem like it was all my fault. Walker was controlling the mayor personally."

"You tried to stop him." It was easy for the Dark Knight to connect the dots.

"Yeah, but what everyone else saw was 'Danny Phantom the town menace' attacking 'Mayor Montez'. Walker made sure we had an audience." He snorted irritably, shaking his head. "Grabbed hold of me on camera and pretended I was holding him hostage." It was clear that the incident still carried a bitter taste. "Took a long time for anyone to believe I was on their side after that."

Disturbing though it was, the Boy Wonder had to credit the warden's plan. 'Go back to ghost-jail, or be hunted by humans.' As revenge schemes went it sounded remarkably thorough. And believable. It was strange to only have one witness but he'd easily take Danny's word over the hate and propaganda of the anonymous authors. The counter-stories fitted with everything Robin had already seen; not a villain but a fellow hero – albeit one apparently suffering from bad publicity, clever enemies and a chronic case of wrong-place-wrong-time.

"And the thefts?" he asked, sensing the pattern, "Similar story again?"

Phantom's gaze drifted down to the floor. He scuffed a boot against the cement, shame flickering across his face as he reached a hand to his neck. "...No. Those... actually happened."

The confession struck the young detective like a slap, stomach dropping as he stared at the ghost.

"Explain. Now." The Dark Knight's words came out sharper than normal.

"A... circus came to town. Sort of like a gothic, freak show carnival." The spirit swallowed nervously. "We didn't know it at first, but the main performers were actually ghosts. The ringmaster, he had this... staff. We're not sure exactly what it was – magic, a ghostly item, hypnosis... whatever it was, it could control us, make us compelled to do everything he said. Even seeing it on a screen was enough. I..." he paused, remorse twisting his features, "I honestly don't remember most of what came next. I know I did a lot of bad things – some really bad. They told me afterwards... he sent me out to steal with the others. And... other things too." He shivered. "My friends were able to stop me, to get through to me somehow. They helped me fight it, managed to get the staff away from him. Broke his control. The other ghosts got free as well and he was arrested. Turns out there'd been robberies all along the circus' tour route." Phantom shuffled in place, staring resolutely at his feet.

Tension uncoiled between Robin's shoulders. "You weren't in control."

"No." The ghost's eyes flickered guiltily to the young hero. "But that doesn't change the fact that it was me doing it."

Relief washed over him like a wave. The Boy Wonder slowly shook his head, smile breaking through the anxiety. Just another misunderstanding. More serious maybe, but things weren't as they appeared. Phantom continued to flip through the file, avoiding the gazes directed his way.

"I don't have anything on the rest of these... I mean, the ghost fights caused a lot of property damage but I tried to keep them away from the town. I definitely don't go out breaking things for fun." He frowned, "Other than that, I can't hypnotise people, Aragon's the only one I know who's ever taken a human captive and ghosts don't eat souls."

Batman evaluated the spirit. "And there have been no other incidents?"

"Apart from the ghost attacks? No..." Phantom's face fell slightly, brushing a hand distractedly over his hair.

"What?"

"It's just... When we were on the run..." His eyes darted to the Dark Knight. "We didn't unless we had to... and if we could we left money, but sometimes we... couldn't get things the proper way... or we had to go places that we weren't allowed."

"Such as the false licence."

Phantom sighed, dipping his chin in resignation. "I'm not proud of it." It was clear that the admission pained the teen but Batman appreciated his desire to be honest. A way of making up for the many nights of half-remarks and cryptic answers. And allowances could be made for extenuating circumstances. The Dark Knight would never condone illegal activity but there was an obvious difference between the people who broke the law for petty reasons and those who did things that they otherwise wouldn't in order to survive. He surveyed the concrete vault. With his powers it would have been easy for Phantom to take up residence in an owned locker rather than renting one.

"That's a different situation. Desperate times..."

The ghost blinked at the elder hero. His shoulders straightened, gratitude making its way onto his face as he gave the duo a small, relieved smile. He rifled through the papers a final time, stacking them neatly before offering them back to the Dark Knight.

"So, was there anything else?"

"Why were you in Portland?" It was something that Robin had wondered about since the ghost re-appeared in their lives.

"That was a huge coincidence. I'd been going southeast and needed to change direction before they started getting ahead of me." Phantom shrugged. "My ghost-sense went off – figured I'd find out what it was." He shook his head disbelievingly. "Who knew."

"What happened to the creatures?" The fate of the perpetrators had been one of Batman's principle concerns upon learning they had escaped the Team.

The spectre glanced his way. "Spectra and Bertrand? They're gone. A natural portal opened up, so I dumped them back into the Ghost Zone."

"How likely is it that they'll return?"

"Not very." Phantom frowned. "I mean, they'll try, but without the Fenton Portal it'll be hard for them to get across. They won't be back for a while."

The Dark Knight nodded, the mention of the name bringing up another, more difficult question. "Fenton Works." Two detonations involving the same family already flagged the investigation. The presence of a survivor raised both hopes and concerns. Phantom stiffened slightly at the words, rubbing the crook of his arm.

"What about it?" His voice was carefully controlled.

"We were wondering what really happened." Robin delivered the query as gently as he could.

White-gloved fingers tangled in the snowy fringe. "It... we..." the ghost took a breath, shaking himself. "We needed to disappear. All of us and everything Fenton as well." A small spark of hope flared in the Boy Wonder's chest. They had considered a targeted attack, but if the destruction of the business had been set up to cover the teen's tracks...

"I take it that Jasmine, Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley went with you." Batman had recognised the same possibility. Phantom's head dipped in a slow nod, lines tightening around his mouth.

"So then..." now that the option was there Robin couldn't let it go, "If you all got out. Are they...?"

The ghost shook his head. "They..." A ripple passed down his throat as he swallowed, "a lot's... happened... since then." His fingers bit into his arm, clenching his jaw as shoulders curled inward. Phantom fixed his gaze on a point beyond the heroes, eyes burning with a broken look that was horribly familiar. A sympathetic pang gripped the Boy Wonder's chest as he watched the ghost blink rapidly. Green eyes closed briefly, face settling into a well-constructed semblance of calm as he drew a long breath. No other explanations were required.

"I'm sorry." Batman and Bruce Wayne spoke together.

Phantom's mouth twitched weakly, rubbing his face with a mumbled, "What for?" False bravado perhaps, but the Dark Knight couldn't help but be impressed by the teen's outward control. It may not have been complete – jagged edges lingered in his eyes – but on the surface Phantom appeared to be holding together.

Robin's eyes drifted back to the teen's right glove. "Wait," he remembered. "Could I borrow your hand for a moment?" Confusion marked the spirit's expression but he complied, offering his palm to the young detective. The Boy Wonder gripped the cold, ethereal wrist, lifting a small canister from his belt. The arm suddenly slipped out of his grasp, Phantom eyeing the cylinder warily.

"What are you doing?"

"Just trust me." He caught the bony limb again, ignoring his mentor's slight disapproval as he doused the hand liberally with the contents. The ghost studied the wetness on his glove for a moment before turning the appendage translucent. Robin reached into another pocket, pressing a small circular device into the now-dry fist as it returned to tangibility. Phantom regarded it curiously, levelling a questioning glance at the Boy Wonder.

"What was that about?"

"The spray was a solvent-"

"For?" The ghost raised an eyebrow.

Robin sighed. "For the tracer gel I tagged you with. What?" he defended, noticing the spirit's suddenly narrowed eyes, "We needed to talk to you, and you didn't look like you were going to stick around."

"And this?" Phantom held up the new device, a faint note of suspicion colouring his tone.

"A different type of locator – in case you need to get in touch. More secure signal. Plus I figured you'd prefer not to have the tag on you." The ghost turned the tracking device over with a frown.

"We understand your reluctance to carry a tracer, but we'd appreciate it if you held onto it. Rest assured the beacon can only be accessed by us." He nodded slowly, slipping the coin-sized piece of technology into a concealed pocket.

Quiet rolled into the vault, conversation breaking for the first time that evening. Phantom took a half step back from the heroes, shooting the Bat a nervous glance. Robin blinked as pale rings washed over the teen again, reverting his cloth and colours.

"So," Fenton watched them cautiously, voice thinner in the absence of the spectral echo, "what now?"

What now indeed. Batman regarded the boy, taking in his clothes, the shadowy bareness of the vault, the events that had, and were occurring outside of the concrete walls.

"We have some things to consider." The situation needed to change, but the change needed to happen properly. To be thought through, weighed up to choose the best option. The Dark Knight wasn't going to gamble someone's future on a snap decision. "How long can you continue to be here?"

Danny scratched the back of his neck. "I should have left two days ago." Batman frowned behind the cowl, feeling the schedule push forward.

"Can you stay another night?"

"I can try..." his eyes were concerned, "after that I'll have to move though."

Twenty-four hours. Not as much time as the Dark Knight would have liked, but hopefully enough to come up with a solution. Now that the idea had struck him, Bruce wasn't going to let it go. He knew from experience how hard a road, how unhealthy a road, the lone wolf act could be. Daniel Fenton was obviously capable, a survivor, but it didn't change the fact that he was only fifteen. Age might be little more than a number in their game, but the kid needed a support network, some semblance of safety to fall back on. And with ghosts a very real – if rare – threat, Phantom's knowledge and skills would make him a valuable ally... if he could be persuaded to work with them.

The Bat nodded.

"It's possible that we may be able to help each other."


Okay, this was a long chapter. I think it's about twice as long as average... then again, there was a lot to say. I know a fair chunk of it was just DP canon but it was necessary DP canon - and hopefully still fun to read.

Again, I want to thank you for all the awesome reviews on the last chapter! And now my friends, fans and followers I was hoping for a little help. I have the overarching plot prepped and relatively clear but I need some small missions for the team to run as a way of bridging the story arcs together. I'm having some difficulty with inspiration so if you have some small-time DC villains or self-contained shots that you'd like to see please PM me. Bonus points if you can come up with a mission/scenario that has some team members travelling on a train.

In other news, I've actually reached the complete end of all the pre-structured, pre-drafted chapters. I'm going from scratch for each piece from here out, which means that updates will likely take a bit longer (as you may have already noticed). I know I've been averaging weekly but the truth is I had rough drafts up to chapter 9 before I even started posting. It takes 2-4 weeks to write a good-length chapter completely from plan to polish, especially as things get more complex.

If you want more YJ:DW between updates, I have a DeviantArt profile. I don't post there a lot but occasionally I make some accompanying art as a way of circumnavigating the trap known as writer's block. My username is RedMoonWhiteTiger if you feel like checking it out.

Thanks again for continuing to read and review.

See you next time!

-3WD