A/N: I hope the sheer size of this chapter makes up for my goof-up yesterday. :P I typoed Danny's birth year; it was supposed to be 1949, not 1945, and by the time I woke up and caught the error (thanks to a bunch of reviews n.n;) a lot of people had already seen the chapter. I'll recap real quick so that I don't mess anyone else up. Also notable; I suck at math, so I hope these calculations are right.

Current Year: 2020

Legends of Amity Park publish date: 2015

Sam -

born 2003 (late July/early August)

failed to graduate high school June 2020

currently age 17

Liza & Penelope -

born 1980 (unspecified)

graduated college 2002

currently age 40

Danny -

born 1949 (late August)

graduated high school June 1967

died August 1967

currently age 17

Jazz -

born 1947 (unspecified)

graduated university 1969

won Nobel in 1972

died - ?

Well, to make up for it, this chapter's extra long. :P AND contains a Casper reference, yay for supernatural therapy!

Le shout-outs:

Anomaly25 - Good prediction there!

mrit - The last bit of this chapter got a partial rewrite, so take care when reading it! As for your questions, which I essentially answered above; no, no, and yes. Oops.

Soni - It's Portuguese for "Stars." I already had a habit of grabbing fic names from song names, so when I ended Chapter 1 with a lot of imagery of stars, it was a weird coincidence that Final Fantasy IV's Estrelas came up on my music playlist just after. I decided to name the fic after that; it seemed fitting at the time. Maybe not so much now, but it still sounds elegant and is fun to pronounce, too!

Epyon Zero - In that respect you're probably way ahead of me, actually. I hadn't quite decided on that particular detail yet. XD

Galateagirl - Me too! I can't say for sure though, of course, but the sap in me says "oh please make Danny and Sam get together!"

Rebecca The Animorph - Ember's my favourite villain; I couldn't resist mentioning her. n.n

And of course millions of thanks to chocolatemercury, Ohka Breynekai, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Katie, Laurelleaves, Kagome M.K, katiesparks and Shades-of-Pink for your comments! (Really sorry to those of you I confused with the date mixup, and thank you for pointing it out!)

Estrelas

Chapter 9

by Shimegami-chan

"Danny? Are you all right?" Sam put her hand on his shoulder, concerned, but of course it passed right through him and she wobbled a bit before steadying herself.

The ghost boy looked as though he was in shock. His head was still tilted down, staring at where the book lay closed on the floor, tinged with green from the intensity of his eyes. He did not come out of it until he noticed the book growing inexplicably closer and realized he was starting to fall right through the couch. "Ah-!"

"Danny?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." The brilliant glow faded back to normal and he rose back up to her height, regaining solidity and settling back down. "Just was a bit of a shock."

"So that was you," the girl said, laying a hand on his jumpsuited knee. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, finally calming enough to crack a smile. "It's hardly your fault."

"I'm the one who insists on dredging up your past."

"I'd rather know about it than not," he replied truthfully. "Knowing these things might be able to prevent my memory from getting any worse."

Sam bent over and picked up the book with both hands, laying it in her lap, but keeping the covers shut as though to prevent its ghosts from escaping through the pages. She studied the gold lettering of the title. "I've read through about halfof this now, and though the author mentions the Fentons a lot, I'm sure I would have noticed if they'd mentioned the name 'Danny' before that section."

"What about sightings of me?"

"I didn't read anything about a Danny Fenton or a Danny Phantom."

The ghost frowned and bent down slightly, perching chin in the palm of his right hand with the elbow balanced on his knee. "How is all this information organized?"

"The first part is general information, and the haunting accounts start after a bit…page thirty-five, I think. I guess somewhere between thirty-five and three-fifteen they must start talking about specific ghosts and people instead of events."

"Hmm." Danny took the book from her and began to flip through it. "All the haunting stories are chronological. If we know that I died in 1967 that means reading any stories that come after August of that year might give us something."

"We could also try looking outside the book," Sam suggested. "Now that we have a date we could look at the newspaper archives in the library."

"That's a great idea! You're brilliant, Sam." He grinned at her, and she blushed slightly. "How about we head over there as soon as they open?"

"Sure!" Sam was glad to see that Danny had mostly recovered from the shock of reading his own entry. She had been worried after his initial reaction that he might run away again, or somehow disappear in a poof of light. She wondered what it would look like to her if and when he finally crossed over. Like an angel ascending? Or would he just dissolve into nothingness? Would she have a chance to say goodbye?

That was how it worked in the movies...but of course she couldn't predict the way things could turn out in real life.

The phantom had his attention focused on the text again, but started slightly at a noise Sam didn't detect. "There's someone in the hallway downstairs."

"What?" Sam hissed, straining to hear the movement. "Nobody should be awake now."

Darting forward, Danny snatched the two candles off the table and disappeared upwards, leaving her in near-darkness. She started to ask in a whisper why he had not just blown them out, but cut herself off hearing a noise very much like the hallway ceiling panel moving. Belatedly she realized that someone might have come up and smelled the smoke from the freshly-extinguished wicks.

Sure enough, the hatch creaked open and her grandmother's voice called softly, "Samantha? Are you up there?"

Sam opened her mouth, unsure whether to reveal her position and get caught in the attic again, or let Grandma believe that'd she'd snuck out in the night. Penelope already wants to come over every damned day, the teenager told herself, not daring to move or answer. But she couldn't see Danny; his glow was muted by his invisibility - had he gone outside to put out the candles? - and so she sat, frozen, hoping Grandma Manson wouldn't risk climbing the stairs again.

The hatch had been completely unfolded from the sounds of it, and there was a sound like a slippered footstep on wood. Sam stood as quickly and quietly as possible, looking about for a place to hide, but as she made the first movement towards the coat rack a familiar chill approached and two ethereal hands fell upon her shoulders. "Just stay still."

Sam nodded. She felt strange and very light, and suddenly she could see his glow again, standing behind her. His touch didn't seem as cold now as it once had, as though the sudden close contact had caused it to circulate through her in an instant and make her immune. She leaned her head back to look at his face, intending to tell him that her grandmother was coming upstairs, and they had to hide or she'd see him like a light bulb in the dark. But he lifted one hand and put a finger to her lips, anticipating the action, and whispered breathlessly in her ear. "Don't talk - we're invisible."

So that was it, she realized with shock, the source of that strange tingling all over, and why his spectral form looked more washed-out than ever. Even her own hands were glowing softly, translucent and wispy, so she stood absolutely still and watched the top of the stairs, where the bright hallway light was spilling onto the attic ceiling and north wall. After a moment a grey head of hair appeared, followed by spindly shoulders, and Grandma Manson paused at the top to look furtively around the room. Her eyes passed over Danny and Sam without even stopping, the girl realized with shock.

"Samantha?" the elderly woman called again, frowning when there was no movement anywhere. She hesitated briefly, and then eased back down the stairs without turning on the light. Sam let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Sorry," Danny apologized, but Sam just shook her head. "What now?"

"Well, we can't stay here. What if she calls the police?"

"I'm sure I could hide us if she did." The ghost still hadn't released his hold on her shoulders, though Sam noticed that her body had returned to normal. "Or I could fly us out of here."

"I guess we'll be going to the library early."

Danny stepped away and moved around so he was facing her. "I've never carried anyone before, I think, but it shouldn't be too hard. When you're invisible, you're near-weightless."

She nodded. "Okay."

Gently he placed his hand on her again, this time at the small of her back, and Sam felt the tingling feeling flow through her. He reached down and gently swept her up into his arms, supporting her behind the knees and at her back. She gasped in surprise at the movement, which seemed to her to have taken place while moving through thick molasses, so slowly did she seem to drift up into the air and settle back down against him. She hadn't really been close enough before to appraise the build hidden beneath his black and white jumpsuit; and even though she thought he looked far younger than seventeen, from this vantage his chest was pretty well-defined. She felt herself turn red, hoping he didn't notice. "Is this all right?"

"Yes," she whispered, quite unable to say more.

He grinned and took to the air.

Sam's first flying experience was one of the most thrilling things she'd ever done in her life, and combining it with first intangibility experience, first time being invisible, and first time being carried around by a more-than-just-mildly-attractive boy ghost, she was sure that this was definitely a day to remember. The brief second passing through the wall, that four-inch space of solid wood, insulation, siding and paint, had to be the most disorienting feeling yet. There was the initial apprehension as they'd approached the jip rock, and then as they slid through the panel she felt a strange heaviness in her chest, as though her body was trying to oppose a force it could no longer touch. Her stomach had seemed to drop right out of her, and she clung to Danny tightly, disoriented. Even as they shot into the open sky the feeling only slightly lessened, as the air pressed upon her from all sides and her body fought to push back. Recognizing her anxiety, the phantom slowed down and tightened his hold slightly as they flew out over the yard, smiling reassuringly. "It's okay; you're safe here."

"Okay," she breathed, hardly daring to look down. Instead, she looked to her right, over and through his shoulder, and caught sight of his ghostly tail streaming out behind him, like a turbulent fog following in their wake. Out in the sun, the glow of his body and eyes had diminished so much they were barely visible, but the tail was an ever-present reminder of Danny's true nature. She turned forward to watch the approaching scenery.

"We'll go tangible again," he told her, somehow knowing how distressing it was, and suddenly the wind was torrid in her hair, shrieking past her ears. Even Danny's shocking white hair was blown back by the force of the air pressure, flattening it against his head. Sam had to shut her eyes to get used to it. "Better? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." It was still strange, but somehow it was still better than that terrible feeling of feeling nothing at all.

They'd touched down inside the public library hours before its scheduled opening, thanks to Danny's ability to phase through objects. Sam didn't dare turn on the microfiche or even any lights, but the bright day outside made it easy enough to see what she was looking for if she stayed by the windows. Danny, apparently, had incredible vision that didn't seem at all affected by the brightness level of the room, and so they separated at the newspaper archives, Sam curled up by the window with a huge stack of leather-bound old prints, he at the towering shelves inspecting the volumes and bringing them to her as needed. Unfortunately, aside from the feature article on August 13, 1967, the obituary on the following Sunday and a smattering of follow-ups on ghost attacks involving the Fentons, she was coming up with nothing. She didn't think it was safe to use any of the computers just yet, in case a janitor or librarian came in to prepare the building for opening, and of course her own laptop and research tools were back at the house. Looking up, Sam spotted Danny perched on top of the shelf, legless, holding a book open in the crook of his arm. "Hey, found anything?"

"I think I found something about my sister," he told her excitedly, propping up the scientific journal so she could see. "Jazz is on the cover of this one."

"That's great, that might give us some insight," Sam replied with enthusiasm, turning her attention to bindings from January and February of 1968. They didn't have time to read through it all before the place opened at ten and they lost the element of privacy, she thought, but she hoped something would catch her eye before too long. Her watch beeped to indicate that it was nine o'clock.

Sam was still paging through the first week of January when Danny made a noise from above her. "What is it?"

"Listen to this," he said quietly. "'Jasmine's foray into the field of paranormal psychology began when an accident claimed her seventeen-year-old brother Danny's life in August of 1967. Previous to that, Jasmine's attentions in university had been focused on social work and adolescence and youth developmental therapy. After the tragedy, Jasmine began to develop her own field of clinical psychology, focused on communication with ghosts in order to ease their destructive tendencies. While she asserts that it was "only natural" that she follow somehow in the footsteps of her supernatural-inclined family, Jasmine insists that her primary reasoning for moving away from social work was to "take science in new directions". Her very first target of communication was her deceased brother Danny.

"The ghost of the Fenton boy had been sighted numerous times since the submarine accident that took his life deep within Lake Jejune. Some even speculate that it was Danny's spirit that transported his parents to the safety of shore immediately after the incident, though no witnesses who arrived on the scene could say they observed a ghost. Jasmine began her studies at the lake at the age of twenty, shortly after Jack and Madeline Fenton left Amity in wake of the tragedy, and spent the next three years compiling the thesis that would eventually earn her a Nobel Prize in 1972.' This is from 1973, by the way," Danny pointed out to Sam, gesturing at the cover. The girl on the front of it, who had long red hair and a beautiful smile, looked nothing like Danny, but Sam supposed maybe that was normal. She had huge azure eyes, and in the photo was touching a pair of reading glasses against her chin."'Jasmine's efforts with her brother's ghost (the details of which are, unfortunately, quite confidential, like any other patient) set the groundwork for dozens of other lingering spirits that wandered the town, and within only five years the paranormal problem faced by Amity Park has alleviated considerably. Miss Fenton's work in the field is only a starting point that will surely lead the scientific community down fantastic new paths.'"

"Nothing else about you?" Sam asked quizzically.

"'Fraid not," Danny said with a sigh. "It's all confidential, apparently. But I obviously didn't cross over from her 'efforts', so that puts us back at square one."

"No way!" Sam cried excitedly. "That's an incredible lead we have there! Legends of Amity Park says that Jazz was still alive and living in town as of the last printing of the book, which was five years ago, right? She'd be, what, in her sixties or seventies by now?"

"Seventy-two," Danny answered thoughtfully.

"We could just find her and ask her what you talked about back then! Who better to go to than the resident expert on this stuff?"

The ghost boy grinned. "You're absolutely right! That's a great idea!"

"This'll be perfectly easy! Once we're done here, we wait around a few minutes for the library to open, then I'll head in and use the public terminals to look up Jazz's address. Then we fly over there and talk to her right away!"

"Perfect!" Danny leapt down from the shelf, reforming his legs as he landed, and gave her an enthusiastic hug. Sam grinned and hugged back with equal vigour.

When he finally released her, the Goth teen picked up the two months of newspaper archives. "We should get these back on the shelf before anyone comes in to open the place up."

"Right," he agreed, taking the books from her hands and flying them back to their rightful places on the shelves.

Picking up another stack of papers, Sam hoped desperately that Jazz Fenton was still alive and lucid. She didn't know what they'd do if Danny's sister had passed away sometime in the last five years. Try to track down records of her work with Danny? Or would all of those things be kept only in Jazz's head? Sam didn't know; didn't want to think about it, to be honest. Instead of voicing her fears, she brought up a completely different subject. "We still haven't found any clues that could tell us what you were haunting or why."

"No, we didn't, did we?" the ghost boy replied with a frown. "We know I died in the lake; you'd think I'd be haunting that."

"I don't know if that's how it works."

"Neither do I." He replaced the last volume on the shelf.

Sam leaned against the wall, careful to keep her distance from the window, lest anyone spot her movement from outside. This room seemed to face an area lined with trees at the back of the building, but it never hurt to be cautious. "There has to be something stopping you from crossing over. Something left undone. Do you remember if you were happy in your human life?"

"I thought so, yeah," he confessed, though there was doubt lingering at the back of his mind. Something he almost remembered, but couldn't quite grab hold of. "I think I got along really well with my parents and sister, and my schoolwork wasn't always great, but I was getting through okay…I remember being excited about graduating from high school. I think I just finished, right before I died."

"Hmm. Did you have friends?"

"Yeah, I had a best friend. I can't quite remember his name, but we knew each other since we were kids. I don't remember feeling lonely very much."

Sam ran a nervous hand through her ink-black hair. If the only living people that Danny cared about from his former life – Jazz, and this other guy, neither of whom might even still be around – were the answer, then why didn't he remember more about them? Sam had a sinking feeling about the whole affair. Maybe the thing that Danny needed to do to cross over was already too far away in the past to reach, and as these last remnants of his human self passed on too, he would continue to get worse and worse, until he became like the ghosts described in her book. Before they had even started looking for Jazz, somehow Sam knew Danny's sister was not going to be the one with the answers.

"I hear something," her companion said suddenly, tilting his chin up. "Keys. Shall we go?"

"Okay," Sam agreed, and he took her hand and led her through the wall, out into the back garden. When they were standing at the tree line, he released her and she winked back into visibility, while he hung like a cold fog at her shoulder. "Aren't you coming out too?"

"In public? I'd better not." Danny's voice said at her ear. "We don't want to deal with any ghost hunters today, especially if people are out looking for you."

"Oh no, that's true," Sam realized. She hoped her grandmother hadn't called the police. Grandma Manson was usually a really easygoing person, but with all the strange events concerning Sam in the past week, she wouldn't be surprised if this latest disappearance was too much for the elderly woman to handle on her own. The Goth teen pushed away her guilt and resolved to apologize later.

"Samantha…fancy meeting you here." A familiar, catty voice drew her attention to the corner of the library building, causing Sam to jump nervously.

"P-Penelope!" she sputtered, shocked. What was the therapist doing here? Surely she couldn't have been looking for Sam!

"Why, I was just on my way to the library, hon, they're opening in five. I heard voices and came to see just who was lurking around." She looked hard at Sam. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the library to open, too," the teenager answered nervously. "I was just checking out the garden in the meantime."

"I see." As Penelope approached, Sam felt Danny move further away, presumably as not to alarm the woman with his cold aura. Her red high heels were slick with wetness from the grass by the time she arrived at Sam's side, causing her to look down at her feet and scowl. "I do wish they'd tend this area better."

"Ah, yeah." Sam's combat boots were, of course, unaffected.

"Are you all right, dear?" the psychiatrist inquired, catching Sam's chin in her lacquered fingers, and suddenly Sam felt a little bit dazed. "I'd hoped to see you later today, but we could certainly talk now. You look like you've been up all night."

"I couldn't sleep very well," Sam told her, a mostly-honest answer. She tried to pull away from the woman, but Penelope was peering over her sunglasses to look into Sam's violet eyes.

She made a clucking sound with her tongue. "I see, I see. Thinking about what we talked about, hmm? Don't worry, my dear, I'm always ready to help you, as soon as you want to get started."

"Yeah…" Sam trailed off, suddenly feeling very compliant. She didn't notice Penelope look over her shoulder and nod her head once, eyes looking to the right. In fact, Sam didn't notice anything Penelope was doing until the woman had put her arm around the teenager's shoulders in a comforting gesture. Sam was suddenly very thankful that she had Penelope around to tell all her problems to.

"Now dear, we'll talk this out, but first I want to ask you a question. I'd been wondering if you might have had any…ghost contact…since you arrived in town."

This statement jarred Sam out of her reverie. "What? Ghosts?"

"Certainly, my dear Samantha, and don't be afraid to say so if you have! It's quite normal, you know, for a ghost's presence to make people more depressed, and I did notice how sad you've been lately. Did you know that ghosts can just suck the happiness right out of you? Filthy things."

"I-" Sam faltered, suddenly confused. "I didn't know that."

"Absolutely, child. I studied paranormal psychology in college, you know."

"Like Jazz…" the girl realized out loud.

Penelope jolted, startling Sam as well. "Jazz as in Jazz Fenton?"

"Yeah," Sam replied slowly. "Do you know her?"

"Well, everyone in psychology knows who Jasmine Fenton is. She lectured at the state university when Liza and I went there…" Penelope trailed off, seemingly forgetting what she'd been saying. "But Samantha, you didn't answer me; have you really been seeing ghosts? I promise I won't think badly of you if you do."

"N-no, of course not," Sam replied, coming somewhat to her senses. Is what she said true? Do ghosts really make people depressed? Danny wouldn't do that…would he?

No, she told herself, I believe in Danny. I know he's been as truthful as he can.

Penelope sidled around behind Sam, shifting so that her hands were on the girl's shoulders, squeezing tightly. "I've been a psychologist for seventeen years, and I've worked with dozens of ghosts. I can tell when there's one around."

But you never noticed Danny when he was in the kitchen, she thought dazedly, fighting back the words from coming out of her mouth.

"I'd hoped you'd be truthful - that's the first step to healing. You've been in contact with a ghost," she said sternly. "And it's still here, I can feel it in the air. Did it possess you? Did it hurt you?"

"He didn't hurt me!" she argued. Something about the situation suddenly seemed very wrong. She was angry all at once, like she usually was around Penelope…but also sad. Her mind played back at warp speed all the awful truths the therapist had told her about herself.

"You poor dear, you really are all alone in this world."

"Did you know that ghosts can just suck the happiness right out of you?"

It had to be true, she realized. She had only started feeling really down after she'd met Danny. Could he be…feeding on her happiness?

Was he already vengeful, and misleading her all along?

Sam could almost feel her heart break. Danny couldn't have…he wouldn't…

"He's my friend," she whispered out loud.

"It's okay, Samantha," Penelope soothed, lifting one hand to smooth Sam's flyaway hair. "You can tell me anything. I promise."

"Don't…call me Samantha."

"Anything you want, dear. Just tell me where to find that terrible ghost, and I'll get someone to come and take care of it for you."

"He's…um…"

"Sam, what are you doing?" Danny hissed in her ear, causing both women to yelp and back away. "You have to get away, I think that woman—oof!" He was cut off and the source of his voice tumbled backwards with a cry, as though slammed by an invisible force. "A ghost?" they heard him say, shocked.

"Two of them? Come out, ghosts!" Penelope demanded.

"Fine!" Danny snapped, and winked into visibility about six feet away, his eyes hard as emeralds. About a metre away another spirit materialized into view, this one an unshapely green blob with wicked fangs. "Now let go of Sam."

"Well, well, well," Penelope sneered in response, shocking both teens and even drawing the attention of the ectoplasmic ghost. "If it isn't the little Phantom...or shall I say Inviso-Bill. How's death been treating you, boy?"

"Inviso-Bill?" Sam cried, stunned. Wasn't that the famous ghost connected to the Axion Labs attacks, the mayor's kidnapping, the Box Ghost's companion…?

He had lied to her!

"Who are you?" Danny demanded, his mouth a grim line. "How do you know me?"

"Please don't say you've forgotten me, Phantom! Wouldn't that be just awful? Don't you remember when we met at Casper High, during Spirit Week?"

"Spirit Week...?" Danny repeated, puzzled.

"Oh, oh my, can it be?" She walked a little closer to him, still clutching Sam, scooting the teenager forward for a better look. "Even the oh-so-righteous Phantom can fall prey to degeneration?"

"Degeneration?"

She waved a manicured hand as if to pooh-pooh his confusion. "Memory loss, dear boy, and eventually unawareness of self, loss of care about anything but survival! I had thought you of all people would be able to cling to humanity a little longer than this."

"Shut up," he growled, levelling an acidic stare at her. "I don't know how you know these things, but I am not going to become like them."

"Hmm," she said, looking carefully at him. Neither Phantom nor Sam noticed that the other ghost had simply drifted back to watch the scene. "You've been preying on poor Samantha here, and I'm not going to allow that. I thought you might be one of the ones with some potential for reform, little ghost boy; if you'd found something to focus on, you know, you could probably have stopped it."

"And be consumed by that? Become obsessed with haunting?" he demanded, before her words hit home. "Wait, preying on her? I'm not the one doing the psychoanalysis here!"

"I'd certainly hope not, spook. I'm calling the ghost hunters right now. I can tell you're too far gone to be saved with therapy now." Penelope rummaged in her purse for a cell phone, never taking her eyes off the ghost. Sam wanted to speak, to argue with one of them…but she wasn't really sure which side she was fighting for anymore.

"I've found something to focus on," Phantom said with a deep breath, his eyes flashing. "The only thing important to me...so I suggest you let her go."

-to be continued...

A/N: P.S., Kindred Spirits was freakin' awesome. XD