It took two weeks for the graveyard shift to acknowledge he was more than just another body in the room. Even if he was a transparent one.

"Molly's finally lost her last tooth," the woman stated proudly. "Can't believe my baby's growing up." She took out her phone and displayed a photo to the table. "9 already! Ashley keeps rolling her eyes at me about babying her but look at them!"

Carl rolled his eyes but looked politely along with Jim and Jacob. "Probably are though," he muttered absently. "Isn't 9 a little old to still be losing teeth."

Shirley's response was to punch him in the arm. Carl flinched, letting out an indignant yelp. She turned to the bigger man at the table. "Jacob, how's Ben doing."

Jacob shrugged. "Fine mostly," he said gruffly. "Busy with friends. My wife is not happy about it."

Shirley nodded absently. "Still nothing about Green Card?"

Jacob glowered. "No."

"Damn Feds," Jim agreed. "Can't do anything right." He eyed Shirley's gaze. "My kid's still not talking to me," he told her with a shrug. "College life apparently does that."

Carl sighed dramatically. "You old folks and your kids," he said wistfully. He ignored their annoyed gazes. "Can't you all talk about anything else? Us young'uns feel left out – right Box?"

The Box Ghost froze, eyes widened in surprise at being addressed. "I…" he started slowly. "I don't mind." He fidgeted slightly with his fingers. "My daughter's too young for all that."

Shirley squealed. "Wait- you have a daughter!" The Box Ghost flinched as she hit him in the arm. She rounded on him, making him float backward in surprise. "Why didn't you tell us!? How old! Do you have a photo?!"

"Um…"

"Oh come on!" Carl lamented. "How am I the only one without kids!?"

"You need a social life for starters," Jim muttered to him. Jacob chuckled as Carl scowled.

"Boxy, you have to show us a picture," Shirley said warmly. "Let us into that life of yours!"

The Box Ghost blinked slowly. He looked at the woman hesitantly. "We don't do pictures really…" he said trailing off. "But I can show you her… if you want."

"That's all I'm looking for!"

The Box Ghost looked skeptical. "Okay…" His hands lit up in blue, causing the three men conversing amongst themselves to stiffen. Eventually a small box appeared in his hand. It clicked open, revealing a small photo inside.

Shirley moved quickly, eagerly eying the photo and squealing in delight. "Oh Boxy, she's so cute! Definitely has your face."

As Shirley cooed, the Box Ghost glanced up at his remaining three co-workers. Jim looked like he wanted to swear but held back, a small spark of curiosity shining in his eyes. Jacob slowly started to make his way over, eying the blue energy warily. Carl was almost bouncing for joy, eyes sparkling in excitement.

"About time you used those fancy powers of yours!" Carl exclaimed. "I've been wanting to ask you about it for ages."

Red eyes found brown. "Really?"

"Yeah! I'm curious."

"Alright crew!" All five workers jumped as Ernie's voice filled the PA. "Break's almost over and there's more nasty sauce shipments to unpack. Let's head back to it."

Carl groaned. "Ugh! So close!" he nudged Box Ghost good naturedly. "Tell me tomorrow 'kay Box Ghost?"

The Box Ghost smiled. "Call me Boxy."

:-=-:

True to his word, Carl cornered Boxy while the two of them and Jacob unpacked a shipment of Nasty Sauce later that night.

"So, is there a limit to your telekinesis?" Carl asked curiously, watching the ghost lift two palettes with ease.

Boxy shrugged. "I don't think so," he replied with a frown.

"Why don't you try it out?"

Jacob made a noise of disagreement but put down his box and turned to the pair.

"I can try it out?"

Carl grinned. "Of course you can! What's the worst that can happen?"

Jacob coughed, mumbling under his breath but the pair didn't heed him any attention.

Box Ghost frowned, looking at the remaining six palettes and back at Carl's eager face. "If you're sure…"

"Course I'm sure!" Carl exclaimed. "Show off some of those powers! We shouldn't be hiding from them."

Box Ghost's hands glowed, outstretched to the palettes in the leftover shipping container. The palettes glowed softly before they rose a few feet above the ground. The Box Ghost manoeuvred them out of the container on the dock, moving only slightly to avoid Carl and Jacob. "Was that good?" He asked, turning to his coworkers.

Carl's mouth was agape while Jacob's mouth was a thin line as he stalked over to the palette. "Still intact," the older man muttered in relief.

"That was," Carl licked his lips. "Probably the best fucking thing I have seen all week." Boxy smiled shyly. "What else can you do?"

"Create small ectoblasts," Box Ghost held up his hand, counting them off as he listed them. "I can also create my own ectoplasm boxes, all the basic stuff and can manipulate my body."

Jacob started to rip apart one of the palettes, rolling his eyes at Carl's complete disregard of work.

"How does that work?" Carl questioned, narrowing his eyes. "Like, kinda how Phantom makes his body longer to avoid attacks?"

Box Ghost's answer came as he made his head spin and his eyes bug out of his face. Carl recoiled, jumping over the few boxes he was sitting on to hide behind them. The Box Ghost stopped, again staring at the younger man in concern. "You alright?" Boxy asked shyly.

Carl held his chest, standing up slowly. With a wicked grin, he turned and beckoned the Box Ghost forward. "Come on."

Boxy frowned. "Where are we going?" he asked, floating absently behind him.

"We need to show this to Jim."

:-=-:

Box Ghost sighed, looking at his new watch that the Lunch Lady gave him in disdain.

Phantom was late. And he only had about fifteen minutes left of his break.

True to his word, the boy came to visit him at least once a week since he started at the warehouse, often bringing some sort of snack or coffee while chatting about various topics. He was even more considerate about Box Lunch and the Lunch Lady and interests outside of them.

But he was late. Which in itself was strange; Phantom was never -

"Hey- sorry."

The ghost boy appeared, disheveled and out of breath as he floated down to the rooftop. "Ran into trouble earlier." He sat down, one knee up as he put his head down on top of it. "Been a rough night."

Boxy frowned, watching the young ghost try and catch his breath. "You okay?" he asked tentatively.

"Fucking great," he replied sarcastically. "Couldn't be better."

Box Ghost's frown deepened. "You want to talk about it?"

Phantom let out a suffering sigh, putting his head on top of his knee. "Just been running low on sleep, a few assignments due and my parents on my case," he offered bitterly. "And a lot of random ghosts seemingly want to take advantage of that."

Box Ghost broke off part of his sandwich, handing it to the young ghost. "Sounds like a lot." Phantom took the offered sandwich, nibbling on it slowly as he tried to catch his breath. "Your life always like this?"

Green eyes drifted to red. "I don't think I've slept a full night in three years," he said, deadpanned. "Are ghosts nocturnal creatures or-"

"Nope. We just go about our day like everyone else."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a little longer, Phantom glancing out onto the horizon in thought while Boxy surveyed the younger ghost.

"Phantom?"

"Hmm?"

"You're bleeding."

The boy bristled, turning with confused eyes. When Box Ghost pointed to his head, Phantom's hand drifted to a small cut on his cheek with a wince. "Damn, didn't think Youngblood got me."

"It was Youngblood?"

"Yeah, wanted to try the pirate thing again." The half-ghost wiped his face, putting a small amount of pressure on it as he finished the sandwich with the other hand. "Do you need to head back?"

Box Ghost glanced at his watch. "I have about five minutes."

Phantom smiled. "Great! So any progress?"

Boxy looked up in progress. "Carl seems fun," he said. "Asks about my powers. And Jacob and Shirley are nice."

"Good!" Phantom said with a nod. "So it's getting better?"

"Maybe," Box Ghost said. "Jim still seems to be wary of me."

Phantom shrugged. "It takes time," he said. "You've only a couple weeks in. I'm sure it will get b

etter."

"How long did it take you to make friends?" Box Ghost asked. "It took us a few years."

Phantom looked up to the night sky, frowning in thought. "I dunno," he said. "When you're younger, it always seems easier."

Box Ghost made a non-committal hum, the two being lulled into a comfortable silence. Suddenly, the boy gasped, a cool mist escaping his lips.

"Fuck," he cursed standing. "'Ghost sense." He jumped into the air, giving Boxy a small wave. "Sorry to cut this short, I'll visit again this week."

"Hey Phantom," Box Ghost called. The boy turned his head back in surprise. "Get some rest."

Phantom gave him a wry smile. "When?" he retorted smartly. Box Ghost waved and watched as he flew away, a small contented smile on the boy's face.

Friends aren't so bad.