Thanks for the reviews: thephantomgal10, Samantha-Girl Scout, the sleep warrior, Terra89, Nobody is Somebody, Summers Rage, spdgirl, Catmedium, GoingGhost, alow.

Special thanks to: thephantomgal10, alow.

A quick note from the author: Thanks all who gave me ideas. If I forgot to put your name up, please let me know! I will, of course, change it. I'm a very nice person. I like to know when I've forgotten someone that reviewed or gave me an idea. Also, don't worry. Cassy'll be coming into play a lot more. I've actually written the end for this story. Can you believe it? I'm stuck somewhere in the middle yet I can write the ending. Sheesh…

Chapter 9: Ghost Child

DJ lay on his side on the bed, staring out the window. This was his mom's room. This was the room his dad would come to when he was hurt from a ghost fight or if he wanted to talk to his mom. He sighed and sat up, walking around the room looking at things. He picked up a picture of the two of them at a dance. They looked so happy together, but the year on the back told him they didn't even know the other liked them that way. He sighed and set the picture aside, moving to the closet.

He pushed the doors open, snorting. "And Mom gets mad at me for my dark clothes?" he muttered, pushing aside the clothes. He pulled out a plaid mini-skirt, staring at it. "It's a wonder Dad didn't end up just attracted to her for all the skin she showed off."

He stopped short when he came upon a shirt that definitely didn't belong to a girl. It was a white shirt with red accenting around the color. He rubbed the cloth between his fingers; he had seen this shirt before. He held onto it as he searched through his mom's pictures. There it was in a picture of his mom and dad hugging at what looked like some kind of backstage at a concert.

He looked back at the shirt, tears in his eyes. This shirt was his dad's. His dad wore this shirt. He might have even worn it the day that he finally told Sam that he was going to die. His legs gave under him as he clung to the piece of fabric. He felt so lost, so alone. He began to cry, burying his face in the shirt. He didn't care how childish he looked; all the emotion that had been building up inside of him for years finally burst out of him all because of a simple shirt.

He didn't hear the door open or the soft footsteps that came toward him. He nearly jumped when a pale hand touched his shoulder. He looked up, and Cassy smiled sadly at him. He didn't even know she was still here. It must not have been as late as he thought. He didn't object as she sat beside him, wrapping her arms around him. He leaned into her embrace, still crying and clinging to his dad's shirt. They didn't speak as DJ rested his head in her lap, lying on his side.

It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair anymore. Why did he have to figure out all this crap now? Why couldn't this have all happened earlier? "This was my dad's shirt," he mumbled aloud, still clutching the fabric.

"I know," she said softly. "I've seen the pictures."

He remained where he was for a few more minutes before sitting up. "I'm okay now," he said before walking out of the room.

Cassy sighed, watching him leave. Why couldn't things be simple like they had been when they were only nine?

DJ mumbled a hello to his grandparents as he walked down the next morning for breakfast. They stared at him in surprise; he was wearing the shirt he'd found last night. He glanced up, catching their stares, and they quickly looked away. They were still afraid he was too much like his dad, he realized. And probably like his mom too from what he'd seen of her stuff last night.

Cassy walked out of the kitchen and handed out plates filled with eggs, pancakes, sausage, and bacon then began silently pouring orange juice in glasses. DJ ate slowly, mulling over everything he had learned still.

"Did you guys know my dad was Danny Phantom before he died?" he asked.

Jeremie faltered, nearly knocking over his orange juice, and Pamela quickly grabbed it. Cassy stood nearby wondering what they would say. "Yes," Jeremie said finally. "You're mother told us after…" He hesitated.

"After?" DJ echoed, grabbing his juice.

"After she slept with him," Pamela finally spoke up.

DJ spit out his juice, and Cassy quickly handed him a napkin. "Okay, please don't tell me anymore," he choked out, coughing. "Ugh, I did not need that mental picture." He stood up, pushing his plate away. "I think I'm going to go look through my mom's stuff some more."

Back upstairs, he found information about ghosts on her computer. He remembered some of them from the stories she told him about his dad, but there was one that she'd listed as last being seen almost a year before his dad died. Most of the ghosts knew his dad was dead and sometimes used that to their advantage. Some like Desiree had had a change of heart and hung around Amity Park for old times' sake, but never caused any damage. He wondered if this was one ghost in the few that didn't know his dad was dead.

He leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed behind his head. Something felt wrong; he couldn't explain it. It just felt like maybe…maybe his mom was in danger. Annoyed with himself but not wanting her to get hurt if he was right, he ran out of the house. He didn't even acknowledge Cassy and his grandparents' startled looks. He skidded to a halt before the Fenton house and ran inside. His grandparents' were obviously out since the ghost shield hadn't been pulled up yet. His mom never set it.

"Mom!" He ran through the living room into the kitchen. Where was she? "Mom!" He ran down into the lab, and she looked up from where she sat at the computer.

"DJ, what are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

His eyes widened as that Skulker ghost that hadn't been back for almost 17 years came through the portal, his weapons aimed for Sam. "Look out!" He ran to her, grabbing her arm, but it was too late to dodge his blast.

A strange sensation passed through him and into her. DJ watched in shock as the weapons went right through them. He heard his mom gasp and turned to her. She was staring at him in disbelief.

"Another ghost child?" Skulker murmured. "Interesting…"

DJ released his mom then looked down at himself. He was solid again, but he wasn't wearing the clothes he'd started out with. Where the heck had this jumper come from, and why did it look exactly like the one his dad used to wear? He was abruptly interrupted from his thoughts as Skulker fired at him, throwing him into the wall. DJ shook his head, trying to blink back stars from his eyes.

His mother was at his side talking to him. What was she saying? He shook his head again. "What?"

"DJ, what are you doing?" she whispered. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"No." His glowing green eyes were different from his dad's only by the gold flecks in them. "I'm trying to keep this ghost from killing you." He stood, rubbing the back of his head before glaring at the ghost. "Leave my mother alone!"

"Your mother?" Skulker looked taken aback then he grinned. "Aha! That explains it. You are the child of that ghost boy I've been hunting. Since he is obviously not available, I can take your head and add it to my trophy room!"

DJ's eyes widened as the ghost flew at him. "Oh, I'm so dead."

A/N: Well, I think I'll just leave it right there…