WoM- Whoo! Poem number III! You guys know these things are tricky to crank out, right? Ah, well, enjoy!

"Insanity is hereditary - you get it from your children."

-Sam Levenson

Hand in Hand

Hand in Hand I led you

To the place you needed to go

I smile as you follow me

And laugh when you grin and glow

"Mom?" I gaped in surprise as I watched a younger version of me turn at your yell. You beam up at that younger me, hugging her leg and laughing.

"Mom!" You repeated, grinning up at her with that happy, three year old face I haven't seen in years, "Mom, I gotta surprise for you!" She looked at you in confusion for a moment before she spotted an eye peeking around the corner before shyly ducking back away. Realizing what was going on, she smiled down at you. I smile, too, remembering this day well.

"A surprise?" She repeated, crouching down and tousling your hair, neater back then than it is now. I used to brush your hair all the time back then, but that stopped when you became a 'Big Boy.' "Is it a plane?"

"Nope!" You responded, shaking your head vigorously.

"Hmm…" She tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully. "It's not another puppy, is it?"

"Nuh-huh," You said, pouting slightly at the reminder of the pet you'd pleaded and begged to keep. It'd been torture to tell you no, but the fact remained that your father was horribly allergic to animal fur.

"Well, is it a princess?" She asked in a slyer tone.

"No, It's a new girl!" You said, obviously too excited to let her finish the guessing game. A cute little girl with short black hair and bright violet eyes stepped out from around the corner, hastily hiding herself behind you, "Her name's Sam, and she just moved here! I told her she could stay for dinner. It's okay, right Mama?"

"Of course, sweetie!" Younger me said at once, smiling warmly at the girl, "It's nice to meet you, Sam. Do you want me to make you anything special for dinner, honey?"

"She told me she doesn't like meat," You piped up for the girl when she only buried her head deeper into your shirt.

"I'll make her a salad then," The young mother said reasonably. Then, in mock confusion, she added, "But I thought you said the surprise wasn't a princess?"

"She's not," You say firmly, "Paulina's a princess, but she's boring. Sam's way funner then she is!" then, taking the girl by the hand, you lead her outside, unaware of the young mother's giggles or my soft smile.

Hand in Hand we walk along

Through all the joy and strife

Side by side, you've grown so big

With so much strength and life

"Hey, Mom, check this out!" I shook my head as a seven year old you showed another young version of me a movie. She frowned at the title.

"'Haunted?'" She read, "The movie about the evil poltergeist who kills people in the hospital he died in? I dunno, isn't that a little scary for you and your friends?" You roll you eyes.

"Come on, Mom, I've seen it twice with Sam in theatre and Tucker says he's seen it eight times!" You say, exasperated at my fussing. I laugh.

"Well, if you can handle it…" She said, amused. "Is that everything?"

"We can go over the list again," You suggest.

"Alright…" Younger me hummed thoughtfully. "Veggies for Sam?"

"Check!" you say, grinning, "We've got enough to feed a rabbit farm, mom."

"Steak for Tucker?"

"Check!"

"Chips and sodas?"

"Check!"

"Mr. Bruno?"

"Ch-MOM!" Younger me laughed as you blushed and glared, "I haven't slept with that stuffed toy in years!"

"Haven't you?" she asked innocently. "Funny, I could've sworn I saw him in your bed last night…"

"Ha ha," You grumbled, "Let's go already, Sam and Tuck are supposed to come over at seven!" I laughed softly as we headed out of the store, arguing all the way about my apparent lapse of vision the night before.

You had no idea that Tucker had bluffed to you, and hadn't seen the movie once. He'd keep the entire house up well into the dawn, much to nine-year-old Jazz's irritation. To this day, one cannot get him within ten feet of a hospital without the right incentive.

You also did not know that I'd looked in on all of you after you'd all fallen asleep, and saw that you'd given your stuffed dinosaur to Sam. I remembered then how worried you were about her recent surge of nightmares, and smiled as I realized you'd been saying goodbye to an old friend the night before, preparing yourself to give him away to someone who needed him more.

Hand in Hand, but you tug loose

So impatient to be free

I race to keep up with you

But you still run so desperately

"I'm fine, Mom!" You duck away from the hand that was reaching out to you. I remembered this day, too, almost a year ago. The day of the accident. Other me hid a hurt look when you avoided her touch, but I saw something else now that I relived the day again.

You wouldn't meet my eye, fear written clearly on your face.

"Now don't give me that," Other me said sternly, "This is serious! You were lucky you were only electrocuted, and apparently not that badly." You exchanged looks with Sam, the only one who'd been in the room for the whole thing. Tucker had run up to get help, sending the whole family up in arms with worry over you.

Even Jazz, who hadn't believed in what I and her father did, was hovering around you, attempting to check your pulse and take your temperature and insisting that somebody call an ambulance so we could get you into an emergency room and have a professional examine you.

"Maybe I should take a blood sample…" Other me muttered under her breath, "Or perform some other tests, just to make sure-"

"NO!" You and Sam yelled, making everyone else jump. Tucker eyed you two in confusion.

"I mean, no tests, Mom. I'm fine, honest! Never better, actually!"

"Well…" Other me sighed, "What were you doing in such a dangerous piece of equipment, anyways? You know better then that!" Behind you, Sam bit her lip, her guilty gaze fixed on her feet.

Days later, she confessed she'd been the one who convinced you to enter the Portal. She was afraid I'd be angry with her, and forbid her from seeing you again. But there was no way I could do that, no matter how mad I was. Sam was a big part of all our lives now, yours especially. She was, in many ways, part of the family, as was Tucker.

I was always proud of you for your taste in friends. I knew just watching you with them that you couldn't have chosen any stronger or more loyal companions. Both of them would defend you to the grave and beyond, a trait you now shared as well.

"You said it didn't work…" you muttered, slouching into your chair a little more.

"It hadn't," Other me sighed. And it shouldn't have. To this day, neither Jack nor I knew how you'd gotten the portal working and lived to tell the tale.

"And the fact that it didn't work was one of the reasons you should've stayed away from it!" Jazz scolded you soundly. "Though to be fair, mom and dad shouldn't have such dangerous equipment in our house to begin with," Other me sighed again at the start of an all too familiar argument, one that had actually been on a steady decline lately.

"Not now, Jazz," She said in a tired tone. Then, in the soft, worried voice only a mother could pull off, she asked you once more, "Are you sure you're alright?"

I'd never been so scared as when Tucker had run upstairs screaming you'd been electrocuted by the Portal. It was one of the reasons I'd had reservations about building it again, especially in our own house.

Vlad's accident hounded me the whole time Jack and I constructed the portal, and my first fear when I'd heard you'd been hurt was that you would suffer the same, if not worse. After all, the Fenton Portal was far larger and more powerful then Jack's earlier Proto Portal.

"I'm fine, Mom," You say, giving me a soft, weak smile.

"Well, if you're sure…" Other me sighed, going to help Jack. Jazz eyed you worriedly for a moment longer, then headed upstairs to finish whatever she'd been working on.

With their backs to you, Jack and Other me never saw when you literally vanished before my eyes, reappearing moments later. I saw, though, and gasped loudly, eyes wide. Sam and Tucker saw, too. Tucker almost mirrored my gasp before Sam hastily slapped a hand over his mouth, throwing a cautious look at Other me and Jack.

"Sort of…" You mutter, giving your friends a helpless look that carried an obvious question.

'What happened?'

Hand in Hand for one heartbeat

As you lead me from your pain

I wonder when our roles reversed

And I drown in all my shame

"Mom? What are you still doing up?" Other me frowned at the question, but disregarded it with a gasp when she took in your current state of disarray.

You were cut and bleeding in several places, your clothes were dirty and torn and a large bruise that looked suspiciously like a gigantic handprint was developing on your right wrist. It was obvious you were trying to sneak in while everyone else was asleep, from the fear that was flickering in your eyes.

"What on earth happened?" She asked, jumping up and marching over to you. You flinch.

"I-I'm fine! I just fell, you know how clumsy I can be,"

"You fell?" She exclaimed. "Falling doesn't cause that much damage! Did someone else do this to you?"

"It's nothing, Mom," You tell me, not meeting my eyes. "I was just messing around with Tucker was all…" She frowned, while I got over my shock over the last scene enough to snort and roll my eyes.

Tucker was a great kid, smart and energetic. His family was nice, too. Neither of them minded too much when Jack blathered on about ghosts and they certainly treated you much kinder then Sam's snobby parents. But if you ever expected me to believe he could cause that kind of injury to a person, especially unintentionally, someone truly had knocked one of your screws loose.

"Sweetie…" Other me started, warily, "Are you… being bullied?"

"Wha-?" You almost trip at that in shock. Then, much to my surprise, you burst into laugher.

"Son?" She said, concerned.

"Sorry, Mom," You say, "It's just-" You shake your head. "Nothing. You better head to bed, you've got that Lab thing in the morning, right?"

"Yes," Other me sighed, "That's why I was up… Did you see where your Father put the Ghost Gabber, dear?" You flinch when I name the invention I'm looking for.

"Erm, I think Jazz made him give it up after the Genius Magazine thing, Mom," He said sympathetically. "You'll have to ask her tomorrow before school,"

"Yeah, I'll do that…" Other me says absently, successfully distracted by your change of subject.

"Night, mom," You say, giving me a smile before you start up the stairs.

"Night, Sweetie." Other me respond with her own gentle smile before she kiss you on the forehead and headed into her own room.

I smile softly at the tender moment, before it melts away into a concerned look as you winced and groaned, leaning heavily against the door to your room. I gasp when you press a hand against your side, blood staining the side of your shirt.

"Damn Skulker…" you muttered upon seeing the stain. Tearing off your shirt, you head to the laundry room, revealing several scratches and bruises I'd missed the first time.

Hand in Hand though I didn't know

The burden you've embraced

You're growing up, a consequence

Of the dangers that you've faced

"Mom, I'm sure he has a good reason for being late!" Jazz tells other me as she paces nervously.

"Don't give me that, Jazz!" She said, frowning "What on earth could be so important he'd forget today, of all days?" Jazz flinched.

"Maybe it's something school related?" Jazz suggested.

"He wouldn't get detention!" Other me said confidently, "Not on his birthday!"

"Lancers been coming down pretty hard on people lately," Jazz offers, "Be patient, Mom, I'm sure he'll be here soon."

"He better be," Jack grumbled, "The ice cream's getting warm!" he reached for the Double Chocolate Mint Fudge, his personal favorite flavor.

"Jack!" Other me said warningly. He withdrew his hand hastily, not wanting to incur her wrath. Then she frowned at her eldest child, "I don't know, Jazz, maybe we should go looking for him…"

"NO!" She yelled, jumping to block the door, "I mean, relax mom! I'm sure He'll be here any second."

"Well…" Other me said doubtfully. I frowned at my daughter as other me considered her words, wondering if she knew something at the time I hadn't. Then, determined, I walked away, through my daughter and the front door like the ghosts I hunted.

I scan the streets for my son, who should be coming soon, if memory served correctly. My eyes are drawn upward with a sharp, familiar chill I'd come to recognize as a sign of a ghost's presence. I freeze when I see not one ghost, but two.

One is the infamous Danny Phantom, and the other is a ghost I recognize as one of the many that harasses Amity from time to time. A mechanical looking creature, who made strange whirling sounds every time he moved. Apparently, Phantom had won, as the other ghost was now being sucking into- was that the Fenton Thermos!

Phantom landed on the ground and, after breaking a sigh of relief, he allowed himself to be enveloped in two horizontal beams of light, which started from his Torso and worked vertically in opposite directions. As the lights fade, it isn't Phantom standing there, but rather a much more familiar, and far dearer person to me.

I feel myself sink to my knees as you stuff the Thermos into your backpack, tossing it over your shoulder and going into the House.

…

'Oh.

My.

God…'

Hand in Hand inside my heart

Where you shall forever reside

My big strong son, my little boy

My child even when you hide

Gasping, I flail up in a fury of arms and legs, kicking the blankets off and panting. Next to me, Jack grumbles slightly and turns on his other side, before resuming his rhythmic snoring.

Shaking slightly, I put on my housecoat and slippers, silently heading out the door and into the hall. Shutting the door softly behind me, I turned so I could start downstairs for a glass of water or something to calm my frazzled nerves. My attention, however, was diverted towards Jazz's slightly ajar door, where a thin stream of light peeked out and hushed voices were conversing.

"Jazz, sweetie?" I said, knocking before opening the door. I was surprised to see not only Jazz, but you as well, "Oh…"

"M-Mom!" Jazz said in a high-pitched voice, "When did you get here?"

"I live here," I reminded her with a frown, "And I think I have a right to be in my own home at three thirty in the morning. Speaking of which, what are you two doing up?"

"Jazz was helping me with a project, Mom," you said quickly.

"Y-yeah!" Jazz agreed, "A project… for Lancer!"

"Couldn't you have waited?" I asked. "It's a little late to be doing schoolwork…" I trailed off as I caught sight of a first aid kit barely peaking out from under Jazz's bed.

Flashbacks from my dream came to me abruptly of you, bruised and bloody, sneaking into the house at God-Knows-What hour.

"Mom?" Jazz said curiously. Apparently she'd been trying to get my attention for a while.

"H-huh?" I blink, my eyes darting to you, noticing for the first time the slight scrape on your right cheek. "Yes, well, school or not, you two had better get to bed. You have school in two hours, you know!" You hastily jump out from Jazz's computer chair and slip past me out of the room. I bid Jazz a goodnight, then catch your arm before you can slip into your own bed.

"Mom?" You say, curious.

"Danny," I start, serious, "You know I'll always love you no matter what, don't you?" I know it was just a dream, that humans can't have ghost powers, but still, something about it felt so real, I had to say this. "You should never be afraid to tell me anything. It's okay to be afraid I won't understand, but even if I don't there's nothing in the world that can stop me from loving you. You're my son, and I'm really proud of you for everything." And with that, I kiss you on the forehead and pad softly back to the bedroom, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I close the door behind me, but not before catching your surprised look.

It's impossible that you and Phantom are one in the same. All the notes Jack and I have done claim it's impossible for a human to withstand the charge of ectoplasm that it would take to transform someone into such a state of being. but if you are, It would never chance a thing. Because you are more then Danny Phantom. More then Danny Fenton, even.

You are my son, and for that, I will always be there for you when you need me.

WoM- Okay, I know I should've done Sam, but this took on an Idea of it's own! I thought it was sweet, and it was certainly longer then my other two one-shots, but I suppose your opinion is all that matters in the end. I did fit quite a bit of D/S in, though.

On a bright note I MET BUTCH HARTMAN! An autographed picture of Danny Phantom smirks down upon me from it's framed spot on my wall above my computer even as I write this.

Thanks to;

Myst

Next Poem; November 20th