I meant to write fluff, but somehow it turned into headcanons and exposition. Why am I like this? Oh, well. There's still some fluff.
I'm really glad that you guys don't see Harmony as too over the top. I was seriously considering leaving it out when I first came up with it, but it's just so Danny to randomly adopt people like that.
Uh, there's a very oblique reference to pedophilia in this chapter, nothing explicit, nothing that you wouldn't hear on the news, an episode of Law and Order, or even one of those safety videos, but I don't want it to be a surprise, and I thought that I should mention it as a courtesy. I've marked where it begins with an asterisk, and where you can safely pick up again with another asterisk. I'm probably just being paranoid, especially considering some of the stuff I've seen in the phandom, but I don't want to get in trouble.
Tell me what you think.
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Chapter 57:
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"Who are you?" asked Anthony, a little cautious. Harmony did not 'approve' of fights, or at least something always stopped ones started in earnest, but, whatever it was, it could not always stop an attack before damage was done. As the people of Harmony had learned in the past.
(Anthony always wondered how it knew the difference between real fights, and things like practice rounds in Takahashi-Sensei's aikido class. So did a lot of other people. He suspected that the ghosts knew, but they never said anything.)
"My name is Mirror," said the boy in a clear, carrying voice. He took a few steps forward, and tilted his head. "I guess you could say that I'm a representative of your landlord. Don't panic," he added after a moment's thought, "I'm not here to collect rent or anything like that."
"Landlord?" asked someone in the back (Anthony thought that it might be Frida 'I'm from Germany' Weber, but it was hard to tell).
"The ghost to whom this lair belongs," clarified Mirror. At the resulting gasp, he blinked, and actually took a step back. "No one told you?" he asked. "But..." His eyes, like Anthony's, flicked over the crowd, pausing at the ghosts. He shook his head. "I suppose it doesn't matter. That's not why I'm here."
"Why are you here?" asked Anthony.
The boy made a face. "There's something nasty outside the Door," he said, waving his hand behind him. "Or several somethings. Or someones. We aren't sure. I've come to warn you, and to tell you that if you wish to evacuate, I can guide you through what you call the Deeps. Oh, and, once this is all done, I will bring you back up here, if that's what you want."
Predictably, there was chaos.
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"Mr Lancer?" asked Danny, quietly, still a ways behind the man. He didn't want to startle his teacher into the water.
Still, Mr Lancer jumped. "Daniel!" he exclaimed. "I didn't see you," he said, a note of apology in his voice.
"That's okay," said Danny. "I know I can be hard to notice, sometimes. I think it's a ghost thing." He walked forward to stand next to Mr Lancer, staring into the pool. "I talked to my parents last night," he said. "I told them about, you know. I think that they took it okay." Danny paused, watching Mr Lancer's reflection in the water.
The older man sagged with relief. "That's wonderful, Daniel," he said. Then, as if worried that he had been too quick to respond, "My offer still stands, though. If you need anything, I will do my best to help."
The corners of Danny's mouth twitched upwards. "Thank you," said Danny. "That means a lot to me. I guess I'm a little worried that they aren't taking it as well as they seem to be, but... I don't think that you can do anything about that. Can you?"
"I- Believe it or not, there are signs for that kind of thing." Danny raised an eyebrow, but Mr Lancer shook his head. "Not for your situation, exactly, but there are similar circumstances that I've dealt with as a teacher."
"Like what?" asked Danny, curious. This wasn't the response that he had expected.
"Like a student picking a career path their parents don't approve of, or," Mr Lancer hesitated almost imperceptibly, "coming out of the closet. I can keep an eye out."
"'Coming out o-' Oh. I get it. Okay. Yeah. I guess I can see that. Thank you."
"It's my job as a teacher," said Mr Lancer.
"I think that this goes beyond the call of duty, though," said Danny. He bit his lip. "I kind of dropped a lot on you, the other day, and then just sort of, I don't know, left you. I'm sorry."
"I won't say that I wasn't confused," admitted Mr Lancer, "or that I'm not still confused, but that's hardly your fault, Daniel. You've been working hard to get us all out of this mess."
"I guess," said Danny. "But I just wanted to say that if you had any questions, I can try to answer them. And don't feel like it's an imposition. It'll be good practice."
"Practice?"
"I'm going to have to teach everyone enough ghost etiquette before we leave to not get killed."
"Is that something that could happen?" asked Mr Lancer, alarmed.
"Maybe," said Danny. "A lot of ghosts here in the Realms aren't used to dealing with humans. They might hurt you without really meaning to. You learn pretty fast not to do things that'll get you attacked. New ghosts are generally more durable than humans, so what might be considered a chastising blow for an inexperienced ghost could seriously hurt a human. Then, some social behaviors are... ingrained. Or, um, burnt-in, might be a better way to say it, or pre-programmed. Instinctual, like they're in the ectoplasm, or, um, like, they arise from how ectoplasm is ordered, or how ghosts work. I don't know. I've read about it, but it's a lot to keep straight. Like, um, ugh. The only examples I can think of right now are embarrassing ones."
"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," said Mr Lancer. "You don't owe me anything."
"Yeah, but... I feel like I kind of do, after all the trouble I've given you, and this can be, I don't know, a practice, for when I have to tell Mom and Dad. So much of this... I've never really had to explain it all at once. Sam and Tucker have been with me the whole time, and Jazz, she guessed a lot of it, and did so much of her own research... I don't know how to say everything without freaking them out. Some of it- Some of it sounds bad. And I have to figure out how to do the etiquette thing, too. So if you don't mind being the practice round..."
"Not at all," said Mr Lancer, forcing a smile onto his face.
"Okay, then. Um. Examples, uh. Child ghosts. Child ghosts will act differently around adult ghost that they like, trust, and respect... Or, no, that's not quite the right way to say that. Adult ghosts that they feel they can rely on?" He bit his lip, suddenly uncertain.
"Perhaps you mean, ghosts that they look up to as parental figures?" asked Mr Lancer, helpfully.
Danny nodded. "Yeah, I think that's probably the best way to say that, or... They'll act different, really docile around adult ghosts that they look to as... potential protectors. Or maybe 'pliable' is the right word? 'Silly?'" Danny shook his head to clear it. "Anyway, they act just bizarrely well-behaved. I guess."
"Why?" asked Mr Lancer.
"Um," said Danny, thinking. "It's instinctual, but if you want the logic behind it... If you're a child ghost, odds are, you're going to be a child for a good long time, maybe even forever, so you want to have a good relationship with the people who are going to be with you, who are going to protect you, and provide for you. You want to be liked. In the Ghost Zone, you don't really have to worry about food as much as on Earth, but there are other things, too. Protection. Affection. Care. Knowledge. Healing. Even if you're Deathless, and are going to grow up eventually, you're still going to be dealing with your parents for essentially forever, unless you go off someplace specifically to get away from them or something." Danny shrugged. "A surprisingly large amount of ghost social stuff is centered around not forgetting what's going on. Sorry, I'm getting off-track." He sighed. "Then, with Dead children... Well, if a child dies, that usually means that something, somewhere, has gone badly wrong. Sometimes... Just... Well, you know. Then you have an interest in keeping that from happening again. Does that make sense as an example?"
"I think so," said Mr Lancer, slowly, "Although, I'm not sure why you thought that it was embarrassing."
Danny groaned. "Mr Lancer, I'm a child ghost."
Mr Lancer blinked. "You- But, you-"
Danny waited.
"But you protect the town!" said Mr Lancer finally. "You're sixteen, and you have parents!" Mr Lancer winced a little at the last objection.
Danny made a face, but before Mr Lancer could apologize and make everything more painful, he started talking. "I get where you're coming from," he said, "and I'm not going to lie to you, I am dangerous, even by ghost standards, but, well," he made another face, "first off, instincts, even human instincts, especially human instincts, aren't always very logical. It doesn't matter that I can beat up ninety-nine percent of all ghosts. Beyond that, just like back in the Material World, you have things, predators, that prey specifically on children, and child ghosts, and there are, um, environmental hazards that adult ghosts can deal with easily that child ghosts can't deal with at all. Except for avoiding them altogether, but you can't always do that. Then, ghosts measure childhood differently than humans do. Actual, total age doesn't really matter much when you have a ten-year-old from Ancient Rome, and a ten-year-old from the eighteen hundreds and they act about the same. I've met someone who died when they were in their twenties, and they're still considered a child. Although," Danny added, thoughtfully, "I have noticed that the tendency to act silly does decrease with greater primal age... Oh, um, primal age being the age you're supposed to look. Usually the age you died at, if you're Dead. I think that the standard, though, for telling whether or not you're a child, is if you can stop absorbing ambient ectoplasm at will, which child ghosts can't do. I can't do that, and... And if you're going to ask about aging out, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I haven't actually grown at all since the Accident, so I don't know if that's ever going to happen. Yeah," finished Danny, awkwardly, choosing not to address the matter of his parents. He sighed, heavily, sitting down at the edge of the water.
*"Predators?" asked Mr Lancer into the following silence, clearly trying to pick the least sensitive topic out of Danny's monologue, but somehow finding one of the more sensitive ones.
"Yeah," said Danny, hiding his discomfort with the subject for Mr Lancer's sake. "They're rare, but dangerous, and there would probably be a lot more children in the Realms if not for them. They don't go after large groups, though, so as long as no one goes off on their own."
"Why don't they go after large groups?"
"For some of them, it's because their abilities only work on one person at a time, but for others it's because it's hard for adults to perceive them, unless a child, or someone else who already sees them points them out, so if they go after a large group, they'll get pointed out, and then, if there are any adult ghosts in the group, they'll be destroyed. Because literally no one likes them. There's a destroy-on-sight policy."
"That sounds like an excellent policy, all things considered, but... Why?"
"Because a lot of them don't usually kill their prey. What they do is almost always covered under the Taboo against Acts of Rapine, and, well, I guess it's like in prison."
"What?" asked Mr Lancer, surprised.
"You hear on the news, and stuff," said Danny, "that some people, when they go to prison, they have to be put in solitary, so the other prisoners don't kill them. Not all crimes are equal."
"Oh. I see."
"Do you? A lot of them come from there, apparently. A human obsession becoming a ghostly one." Danny shuddered, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Can we talk about something else now? I don't think that this is really what I want to be explaining to the class."
*"Ah. Right. Perhaps you could just say that ghosts take politeness very seriously, and that they might be punished for impoliteness?"
"I guess that would work."
A few seconds passed before Mr Lancer spoke again. "You used the term 'Deathless' earlier. I believe you mentioned it yesterday, too, but there were so many other things going on, that I think it just slipped on by. Could you explain what it means?"
"Um. Sure. It's, um. In general, there are three kind of broad categories of ghosts. There are the Neverborn," he started counting on his fingers, "the Deathless, and the Dead." He waved three fingers at Mr Lancer. "The Neverborn are ghosts who formed more or less on their own out of raw ectoplasm and the energies of the Zone, or emotional energy, or imagination, or whatever. It's hard to tell when they started existing. Typically, both the weakest ghosts, like blobs, and the strongest ghosts, like the ones who are basically personifications of ideas and natural laws, are Neverborn. Then there are the Deathless, who are ghosts that are born ghosts. That is, their parents are ghosts. Which, yeah, I know, it sounds weird, but it happens. These little guys," he indicated a wisp who had floated near, "a lot of them are Deathless. Most of them are Neverborn, but a lot of them are Deathless. I think. We still have some communication problems when it comes to, um, more complicated concepts. The whole... process is a lot, a lot, different than with humans, and it's my understanding that it's difficult, but it happens. Then the Dead are, um. People or animals who have died. Pretty straightforward there. I'm Dead. Most of the ghosts you see in Amity Park are Dead."
"Daniel," said Mr Lancer, concern clear in his voice, "you aren't dead."
Danny looked up at Mr Lancer. This was the part that he knew would be the hardest for the teacher to accept. It had taken Jazz time, and, in during that time, she had come up with a dozen alternate theories. Sam had freaked out massively when Danny had first come out of the portal, and Danny was sure that she was still carrying the knowledge around like a burden, although he wasn't sure why. Tucker brought it up in jokes, like Danny, but he knew what it meant. At least, he knew as much as any human could. It had taken Danny himself a while to come to terms with the fact that he had died himself, which as it turned out, wasn't all that unusual among the Dead.
(He wasn't sure quite when it had happened, or how, but, eventually, he stopped saying that he had ghost powers, and started saying that he was half-ghost.)
"If it helps, I'm as much alive as I am dead. But I am Dead. I died. I react to things in the same way the Dead do."
Mr Lancer took a deep breath, and Danny could tell that he was tempted to argue. But he contained himself. "I doubt you want to explain that to the class, either."
"Not particularly. I mean, the different kinds of ghosts, sure, but the 'I'm Dead' part, not so much."
"Hm," said Mr Lancer, staring blankly at the plants on the other side of the pool. A wisp floated mischievously through his field of view, pulling loops. "Three kinds of ghost..."
"In general, if you're talking about how they came to exist, yeah. I mean, there are other categorizations, like shadows, spawn, doppelgangers, children-by-theft, certain kinds of liminals, and that's not even getting into categories that judge based on appearance, or intelligence, or obsession, or powers, but those are the easiest ones to understand. The easiest for me to explain, anyway."
"You've had to learn a lot about this, haven't you?"
"Yeah," agreed Danny.
"I can't have been easy."
"I've had help," said Danny. "Not with everything, but with most things. But, it has been kind of like going to school twice, but one of them will kill you if you fail." Danny blinked, and raised a hand. "That's not supposed to be an excuse about my grades, by the way. Just, you know, an observation. Like, sometimes I don't turn in homework because of poor time management, or because I want to play video games or goof off with Sam and Tucker, not because I'm fighting ghosts, or doing something ghost-related. I mean, it usually is ghosts, but... Yeah."
"You shouldn't be penalized for trying to have a life, Daniel," said Mr Lancer. The expression on his face was one familiar to Danny. He saw it on Sam and Tucker all the time. "There are often allowances made for students who have... circumstances outside their control. Clearly, I can't say that I've ever seen a situation like yours, and, honestly, I don't think that I will be able to get the rest of the staff to give you the help you deserve, and you do deserve help, Daniel, far more than I could ever give you, but I will give you as much help as I can. I promise you that. At the very least," he said putting on an expression of restrained distaste, "I can make the same allowances for you that I am forced to make for members of our sports teams."
"Ha!" exclaimed Danny. Mr Lancer looked at him oddly. "Oh, um. It's just that I've always thought that something fishy was going on there. With the jocks, I mean."
Mr Lancer sighed. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I hate to make excuses for such behavior, but what with all the repairs Amity Park is forced to make, and the public safety measures, the school wouldn't have enough money to run if not for sports-obsessed private donors."
"Sorry," said Danny, hugging his knees.
"What? Why are-? Oh. Daniel, it's hardly your fault. Blaming you for that mess is the farthest thing from my mind. I'm sure things would be much worse without you. You've saved my life more than once."
"I'm also the one that locked you in the janitor's closet that one time."
"Y-You mean the time I was trapped in the closet over the weekend? That was you?"
"Yeah," said Danny, voice muffled from speaking into his knees. He was looking up at Mr Lancer, a little afraid of what his reaction might be. It was possible that Danny should have waited to tell him that, or that he should have given the incident some more context, but he wanted to give his teacher the chance to back out of his promise before he got his hopes up.
"Wh-" started Mr Lancer. He blinked, and sat down abruptly. "You were in detention for skipping class," he said, after a moment. "Skipping class," he repeated, "to go to Circus Gothica."
"Mhm," said Danny.
"Circus Gothica," said Mr Lancer, brow furrowed, "the evil circus. The circus that was evil because the owner had a... something that could control ghosts. Miss Manson said that Phantom didn't even remember what had happened."
"It was a staff," said Danny. "But, yeah. My memory of that week is... patchy." Mr Lancer gave him a look. "Okay, it isn't quite a giant hole. I do remember being in that detention, or, at least, showing up for it, but, after that, I think my next clear memory was flying with Sam." He paused. "I had just caught her. She'd fallen off the train." He paused again. "While it was going over that bridge. You know, the long one that the county is always renaming."
Mr Lancer stared at him. "I think that I'll have to ask the three of you to tell me the rest of that story at some point. Not now, though. I suspect that your classmates will be waking up soon."
"Yeah," said Danny. "I can hear some of them moving around." He stood up. "I should go, make sure that everyone has breakfast."
"Daniel," said Mr Lancer softly. Danny turned. "I'm not going to blame you for something you had no control over and don't even remember."
Danny smiled. "Thanks."
