Author's Note: In Disparaged, I wrote the initial incident from Maddie's perspective after this corresponding chapter. I'm not sure if I'll be doing that here or not. Maddie had feelings for Phantom that were secret from Danny, so I could only explore them when I wrote from her perspective. Jack's feelings about Phantom are not really secret, so I don't know if it's necessary.
Then again, I didn't fully understand those secret feelings Maddie had until I wrote that chapter, so maybe I just need to do the same with Jack. We shall see.
(after being) Condemned
Morning again. Jack's favorite time of the day. Morning meant he had all day to work on his various inventions and gadgets. And perhaps most exciting of all, morning meant breakfast, easily the best meal of the day. Well, except maybe dinner. And lunch was also pretty good. And snacks were really great, too.
Jack sat up in bed and stretched out his arms, stimulated his blood to circulate round and round. He moved to the window and opened the blinds, peered out at the sunlit neighborhood. Something about the light of morning was just so invigorating, so pleasantly warm.
The shower was running. Jack looked in the direction of the master bathroom. He imagined Maddie running shampoo through her hair, rinsing her smooth skin, soaping up her sensuous assets.
His core was suddenly buzzing with longing. That woman had such a way of worming into his head. He had to cool it before he got too carried away.
Or did he? This could be a great way to kick off the morning.
He quickly threw off his clothes and ran into the bathroom just in time to see Maddie wrap a towel around her body.
"Hey, honey," Maddie chirped as she towel dried her hair.
"Aw, Mads. I was gonna join you!" whined Jack with a small pout.
Maddie patted his bare chest as she walked out of the bathroom. "I need to get downstairs so I can start breakfast. I'm making French toast."
Jack perked up again. Just like that, the morning was back on track.
He cheerfully sang and hummed during his shower, water so hot it was almost scalding. Perfect temperature. Perfect pressure. And afterwards, buttery eggy bready French toast to fill up his belly. Such delight. Maybe there'd even be leftovers for lunch.
Oh, there'd definitely be leftovers. With the way Danny ate, that was never a worry.
Squeaky clean in a freshly laundered jumpsuit and hair still slightly damp, Jack whistled a lively tune as he bounded into the kitchen. Maddie was leaning over the stove and flipping over large pieces of fluffy bread soaked in eggs and cinnamon.
"Smelling good, Mads." Jack came up behind her and gave her an affectionate squeeze. When she turned her head to greet him, he silenced her with a deep kiss. Her face was lit up with a somewhat goofy grin when they broke away.
"I'll be done here soon," she said after blinking away her dazed passion.
"Do you need help with anything?"
"No, I've got it. But maybe you could set the table?"
Jack set enough plates and silverware for four around the table. He grabbed some syrup from the pantry and some juice from the fridge before taking a seat and switching on their kitchen TV. Morning news. Definitely the most exciting news of the day. He eagerly waited for any mention of ghosts, his favorite topic of discussion.
Well, except when it was that particular ghost. That punk kid.
But there was no mention of any ghosts at all. Oh well. He still had the entire day to think about them, design new machines and devices to capture them and study them and render them weak and vulnerable to experimentation.
Yup. It was going to be a great day.
Jazz entered the kitchen with brushed hair looking sleek and shiny. "Morning!"
"Hey, Jazzy!" greeted Jack. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mmm hmm." Jazz sat next to him. "Took a while to fall asleep because I was so excited thinking about what I could include in my college thesis, though. You know, the one we talked about last night?"
"You're gonna have to tell me all of your ideas. Then I can plan out how to help you."
"You're the best, Dad."
Maddie set a plate of French toast in the center of the table. Jack eagerly forked a few pieces onto his plate.
"Where's Danny?" he asked, flooding his plate with maple syrup. "He loves French toast."
"He had just gotten out of the shower when I came out of my room," said Jazz. "He'll probably be here soon."
"All right, but I might eat all these before he gets here." Jack grabbed another piece of toast.
"Jack!" Maddie playfully reprimanded. "You better not eat them all. I actually made these specifically for Danny, you know."
Jack lowered his fork. "Specifically for Danny? Why?"
"Well, he didn't eat much yesterday, so I wanted to make him something I know he likes this morning. You know, to make sure he definitely eats."
Jack quietly seethed and stuffed a large bite in his mouth to prevent himself from saying anything. Once again, she was babying their son. Treating him like a little boy, acting like his own personal chef and giving into his picky preferences just to get him to eat.
Well, at least Jack was getting French toast out of this.
Danny at last appeared in the entry, showered and fully dressed.
"Danny, there you are!" greeted Maddie. "There's some French toast on the table already. Take as many as you want."
"Oh, well, I think I'm just gonna buy something at school," said Danny.
Maddie frowned at him disapprovingly. "Danny, you promised me last night that you would eat this morning."
Jack furrowed his brow. Last night? When had he promised that?
"I will. It's just still kind of early. And French toast is pretty heavy first thing in the morning, you know?"
"I very specifically asked that you eat whatever I make this morning." Maddie pushed him to his chair at the table. "Now eat up. Here, I'll make a plate for you."
Jack watched in amazement as Maddie actually placed a couple pieces of French toast on Danny's plate and doused them with syrup. She even filled a glass with orange juice for him.
Danny was never going to become a man at this rate.
But the French toast tasted delicious. And they were all eating together as a family. And his two favorite girls were on either side of him. And at least Danny was eating, so maybe Maddie wouldn't worry about him today. They could just have a normal day together, in the lab working on new gadgets and maybe they'd even get around to other fun activities they could only do when the kids weren't around.
Danny gulped down the last of his orange juice and stood, taking his plate covered with nothing but syrup over to the sink. "Hey, Jazz, I'll be waiting in the living room, okay?"
"Wait, wait, I'm done, too." Jazz forked a final bite into her mouth before rinsing off her plate and joining Danny in the living room.
Jack brightened. Great, now it was just him and Mads, no more kids—
Maddie jumped up and ran out of the kitchen to see the kids off. Jack stood with a sigh to follow her. And well, he should give his kids a proper goodbye. And he liked saying goodbye to them. And then he'd have Maddie all to himself again afterwards.
This whole thing with Danny had really put him in a mood. He knew that. But once Maddie stopped being so overly concerned about their son, Jack knew he'd feel much better.
"Here's some money for lunch," said Maddie, handing bills to both of their kids just as Jack walked up beside her.
"We already have money in our accounts," said Jazz.
"I know, but I just want to be sure." Maddie put a hand on Danny's shoulder. She looked right at him though she continued to speak to both teens. "Buy yourself something extra today if you want, okay? Even if it's just junk from the vending machine. You both deserve it."
Danny gazed at her warily for a moment before folding the bills and stuffing them in his front pocket. "Thanks, Mom."
The teens walked together out the front door. Jack waited for it to click before hooking an arm around Maddie's waist. "Well, now that those two are—"
"Jack." Maddie pushed off against his chest. "We need to talk about Danny again."
Jack couldn't speak for a moment, his jaw dropped in stunned confusion. Had he heard right? No, he couldn't have heard right.
Maddie looked toward the front door. "I found Danny last night in the kitchen—"
"Wait, last night? When? What are you talking about?"
"After we all went to bed. I heard a noise down here that woke me up. Well, except I didn't know it was coming from downstairs right away. But anyway, I went out to see what it was and checked on Danny along the way. Since, you know, his door's supposed to be open. But he wasn't in his room. So I went downstairs and found him in the kitchen."
Jack instinctively glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen entryway. Okay, so their son hadn't snuck out again. He had stayed in the house. Was this somehow going to be important? It so far seemed pretty ordinary and not at all worth fussing over. "Uh huh. And what was he doing? Getting something to eat?"
"No. He was sitting at the table with his head down. In the dark. Clutching a bottle of painkillers. When I asked him about it, he said he just had a headache."
Jack nodded slowly, still trying to figure out why this mattered. "Okay. So he had a headache and took medication for it. Is that not okay with you? I mean, haven't we been trusting him and Jazz to take what they need from that cabinet for a while now?"
Maddie groaned and threw up her hands. "No, Jack. It's not about that. It's the way he was acting, the things he said." She paced the room for a moment. "He's just... Something's wrong with him. I mean, something is going on with him. Something serious." She stopped walking and looked at him hard. "And I think...it might have something to do with you."
A click in his head, the cock of a gun. "Me? Why do you think that?"
"He asked me if you were awake, too. He seemed actually pretty concerned about that. Like worried."
"All right, and? How is that my fault?" Jack held out his arms, palms facing Maddie. "I. Haven't. Done. Anything. To him. Nothing."
"Calm down. I keep telling you I'm not saying you did anything to him."
"Well, you're saying something. I don't know what you think is going on with him, but I have been nothing but nice to that boy."
"'That boy'? 'That boy' is our son, Jack."
Jack's tongue locked up. He breathed in deep and looked down at the floor.
"And our son needs help with something."
Her voice was breaking up. Jack's own heart was sinking low as he studied her tearing eyes.
He dropped onto the couch and bent over, holding his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I just don't know what you want me to do."
Maddie sat down beside him with her legs pulled up on the seat cushion. She held onto his arm and gently stroked it. "I think you need to talk to him."
"I did last night!"
"I mean really talk to him. Like some bonding time. I think you should take him somewhere, just the two of you. And have an open conversation with him."
"When? Like tomorrow?"
"I was thinking tonight."
Jack loudly exhaled, air burbling his lips. "Should I just take him out for dinner or something?"
"I think something more fun than that."
"Like a basketball game? At the college? I could probably still get tickets."
"Something he would enjoy."
Jack opened his mouth but then closed it again. What would his son enjoy? "A movie?"
"You can't really talk much during a movie." Maddie patted his arm. "I was actually thinking you could take him out to Gardner Peak."
Jack's eyebrows drew close together. "The observatory?"
"Mmm hmm. Danny hasn't been there in a while, and you know how much he loves the stars. It's supposed to be a very clear night tonight."
"But we have a telescope here we could use."
"Yes, but it's not nearly as powerful as the telescopes at Gardner Peak. You know that. And there's too much light pollution here."
"Okay, but you know that Gardner Peak is like two hours away, right?"
"Are you saying your son isn't worth a two-hour drive?"
Jack opened and shut his mouth again.
"He'll love it, Jack," said Maddie pleadingly. "And I know it's kind of far, but it would be a great opportunity to talk to him." She rested her head on his shoulder. "And it would mean so much to me, too."
Jack stared ahead while Maddie cuddled against his body. She really did seem worried about their son. And Danny had already confessed that something was troubling him. It was apparently why he had snuck out to see Tucker, after all. Maybe he could get Danny to open up to him. Maybe a few hours alone with Danny would allow a good connection between them. Maybe Danny would be able to relax while indulging in one of his passions.
Jack looked down at Maddie, stroked the side of her face with his hand.
Maybe he could be his wife's hero by figuring out what was wrong with their son and helping him to be happy again.
"All right," said Jack at last. "I think it's a great idea. It'll be fun to hang out with Danny."
Maddie lifted her head, her face glowing with delight. "Great! I'll make you two dinner that you can take with you. And you can leave right when he gets home from school!"
She jumped up from the couch. Jack stayed sitting for a moment.
"Right when he gets home?" he asked hesitantly.
"Of course! You'll get there just as the sun is setting. It'll be perfect!"
Jack sighed to himself. Well, all right. The sooner they left, the sooner they could come home, too.
"What would you want to eat tonight?" asked Maddie from the kitchen. "Pulled pork? Pasta? Fudge?"
Jack perked up immediately. Good food could make any situation a thousand times better.
He dashed into the kitchen so he could better see all his choices.
...
The French toast was not settling well in his stomach at all. Why did he eat three pieces? How had he even managed to shove that many down his throat?
But it made his mom so happy, and he really did like making her happy.
Now if only it were that easy to make his dad happy.
Danny bent over in the passenger seat of Jazz's car, rubbing and kneading his middle with one hand.
"Feeling okay?"
He looked over at Jazz, whose eyes never left the road ahead. He forced himself to sit up straight. "Yeah. Just kind of have a stomachache. From all that French toast."
Jazz nodded in understanding. "I get stomachaches in the morning sometimes."
Danny didn't reply. Maybe she wouldn't try to talk again for the rest of the trip if he just stayed quiet.
"But how are you in general? Feeling okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Now it was Jazz who didn't reply. Danny studied her face in profile, the way her teeth grated against the inside of her bottom lip.
He was so ready to not talk anymore but he couldn't let their silence rest on this.
"You don't believe me," he stated coolly.
Jazz breathed out a sigh. "It's not that necessarily. I mean... Yeah, you don't seem like your normal self, so I'm dubious about you really being 'fine.'"
Dubious. Only his sister would use such a pretentious word. Of course she would. "And just what exactly is normal for me, Jazz?"
"If I tell you, you'll just try to be that way so you can go on trying to pretend you're fine."
Danny rolled his eyes. "God. Whatever." He wasn't about to play this game of psychotherapy with her. She could insist all she wanted that she knew a damn thing about him, but he wouldn't let this conversation continue if that was the case. He'd shut it down now before she could get even more pedantic with him.
Jazz was quiet, the sort of quiet weighed down by hurt feelings. Danny turned away from her and pretended to be very interested in the view outside his window.
But of course he had hurt her feelings again. He was always doing that. And like always, he felt terrible about it and was already imagining what apology he should give.
But why did he always have to be the one who was sorry? Why was it always he who had to apologize? Why did he only ever feel better when he was the one apologizing?
Because…
It really did seem to always be his fault. He had snapped at Jazz when she was just trying to help. He had worried his mom by acting strange and suppressing his normal appetite. He had upset his parents when he wasn't in his room and they had to go out and search for him.
And he had really pissed off his dad in that alley when he didn't let him fire that gun.
He peered at Jazz out of the corner of his eye.
Maybe he'd apologize once they got to school.
Through traffic lights and past stop signs, nothing but the whistling wind outside the car. Jazz never had the radio on any time she drove. Or when she did turn it on, she only ever listened to weird academic talk shows. Complete silence was definitely better than that.
Jazz pulled into the student parking lot and shut off the engine. Danny gathered his words and forced himself to turn to say something to her, to mumble some sort of apology. But all his thoughts were halted by her expression, so searching and uncertain.
"I know you don't want my advice." She glanced away smiling for a short second. "You never do."
"Jazz, it's not that I don't ever want—"
"I know, I know. I was exaggerating, I guess, but we both know what I'm getting at. And I know that maybe sometimes I try too hard to help when it's not really my place."
Danny only pressed his lips. He couldn't argue with that.
"But I am worried about you and I do think about you and how I can help you all the time. Especially since yesterday." Jazz looked down shyly. "I hope you don't mind too much."
He wished he could honestly say he didn't mind. But everyone constantly expressing their concern for him didn't exactly make him feel loved. It only made him feel incapable or fragile, like everyone was sure he could break at any moment and they had to figure out more ways to protect him.
"It's fine," he said quietly. "I'm pretty used to it by now."
"You know we all just really care about you, right?"
"Yeah. I know."
Jazz gazed out the front window for a couple moments. "So I've been thinking about all of this, about what's been going on between you and Dad, and... I think that maybe it's time you told him. And Mom. Both of them. But especially Dad. For obvious reasons."
Danny silently stared at her.
"I mean, um, tell him that you're—"
"I know what you mean," he cut her off softly, delicately. "But I can't do that."
The nightmares ran through his mind, everything his dad had bragged about doing to his ghost specimens locked up in the lab, everything he had actually seen his dad do to ghosts, everything that he knew his dad wanted to do to Phantom, to him.
"It'll be okay." Jazz put a hand on his shoulder. "Dad loves you. I know you haven't been feeling it much lately, but he does. He just doesn't always show it like Mom does."
Had he ever felt it? Danny honestly couldn't pinpoint an exact moment in recent history when he was certain his dad loved him. But Jazz was right. It had to be true. His dad was at least usually nice to him and sometimes sat him down for chats. Even if those chats didn't always make sense or were just a way to get Danny to do something.
Or like last night when Jack didn't really seem to want to talk to Danny at all but was doing it anyway for some reason.
He had seen Jack accept him in an alternate timeline. His dad had embraced his secret, hadn't expressed any anger or disappointment at all. But Danny had never seen beyond that initial moment of revelation, had no idea if Jack would've continued to be okay with his son being a ghost.
And now, after what had happened in that alley, Danny was more afraid than ever to find out for sure.
"Jazz." Danny put a hand over hers on his shoulder. "I appreciate your suggestion. But please promise me you won't make this decision for me. Please let me be the one to tell him."
Jazz lifted her armrest and leaned over the gear lever of her car, wrapped her arms around him. Danny made no movement, only took in the soothing contact of her embrace.
This was an indication of love. Definitely. He could feel it.
Jack had hugged him. Many times. Crushing hugs that pressed all the air from his lungs.
But he never felt this when Jack hugged him, this feeling he got from Jazz holding him.
But perhaps love didn't always feel the same? Did everyone have their own version of love to give?
What was Jack's version of love? Maybe it was his own fault for never trying to figure it out.
At lunch, Danny sat with Tucker and Sam outside in the budding spring air. Flowers were springing up all around them in the grass.
Normally, new flowers in the grass made him smile. The end of winter, still so far from Christmas. He really hated that time of year.
But this time of year. He loved spring.
Normally.
He normally would've been smiling right now.
But this wasn't normal. He was with his usual friends at their usual table. But he wasn't present with them. He felt distant even though they were right next to him.
"Danny, you gonna eat that?" asked Tucker, pointing to the bag of chips that came with his purchased lunch.
His mom really wanted him to eat. She had given him money, looked him straight in the eye and told him to buy something to eat.
He hated disappointing her.
But she didn't have to know.
He pushed the entirety of his uneaten meal toward Tucker. "You can have it all."
"Have you eaten at all today?" asked Sam.
"My mom made French toast this morning, and I ate a ton. I feel kind of sick, honestly." Not a lie. His gut was knotted and kinked. Eating right now probably would make him feel worse. Maybe even throw up. And that certainly wouldn't make him look good when he was trying to get everyone to stop worrying about him.
"They took all of my games," Tucker was suddenly saying. "Locked them all up."
Danny blinked back into focus. "Oh, you mean your parents? For…?"
Tucker shrugged. "Yeah. But I have backup games, so I'll be just fine."
"Tuck, I'm so sorry I got you in trouble like that."
"Nah, dude, it's really fine. Seriously."
"But it was wrong of me to put that on you without asking."
"We're all in this together," said Tucker firmly. "I agreed to take on whatever trouble you're in the moment we formed Team Phantom."
"Me, too," affirmed Sam with a proud grin.
Danny said nothing, overwhelmed by the unwavering loyalty of his friends. They seemed genuinely willing and even happy to help with everything pertaining to his ghostly identity, but it pained him all the same that they so often had to hurt right along with him.
The guilt he felt that they were tangled up in this, following him as he was pulled in deeper and deeper, offshoots from the chains forged primarily for him winding and tightening around them as well.
"Thanks, Tuck," said Danny. "You really saved me."
Tucker smiled at him, then became serious again. "So, I told my mom that you came over to check out a game, but she didn't really seem to be buying it, so I ended up telling her that you had something private you wanted to confide in me."
Danny breathed a sigh of relief. "That's actually what I ended up telling my parents, too. You didn't give her any specifics, did you?"
"Nah. I insisted that I had promised you I wouldn't tell anyone."
Danny smiled appreciatively. "You really are the smartest guy I know."
Sam nonchalantly popped a baby carrot in her mouth. "Yeah, sometimes."
Tucker glared at her. "Sometimes? And just what does that mean?"
Sam and Tucker started joking and laughing. Silly asides, humorous anecdotes. But none of this was amusing or interesting to Danny. Nothing was enjoyable right now.
Everything was. Just.
Empty.
What was it that used to fill this emptiness? What had he lost? What had been taken from him?
What had his father taken from him?
It had only been a couple days, but he already couldn't remember. Had there really been a time he hadn't felt this way? Whatever 'this way' even was?
And what had he done to deserve this? Was this a consequence he just had to accept for lying to his parents so long, for not being as intelligent as Jazz, for not being the son his father really wanted?
Had he been trying hard enough to be what his father wanted?
His grades were terrible, and he probably couldn't bring them up even if ghost-fighting wasn't running him into the ground. But maybe he could do other things. Maybe he could feign more interest in his dad's research papers or inventions or—
—ghosts?
But his dad hated ghosts. But then he loved them. But then he hated them. He loved studying ghosts, cutting them up, ripping them apart. But he hated ghosts. Or maybe it was just one ghost he hated. Just him.
His dad didn't hate him—
His dad hated Phantom not him—
His dad maybe didn't like him all that much but he didn't hate him.
But his dad did like him at least a little, right?
"Danny?"
Sam and Tucker were gravely studying him.
"You okay?"
They were searching, searching for something that was lost even to him.
He hugged his arms close.
"I don't know."
Hung his head, shut his eyes.
"I don't know. I—I don't think so."
Shaking, trembling. His friends were upon him instantly, reassuring him with words he couldn't quite understand.
He had to do something about this.
He couldn't go on feeling this way, like he was breaking up.
He had been almost killed. His dad had almost killed him. And not only was he being punished for it, but he was letting himself be punished for it.
He was letting it happen because...it was what his dad wanted to happen, perhaps.
But despite allowing his dad to treat him however he wanted, their relationship was still somehow falling apart.
What would it take for his dad to just be okay with him again?
What would it take for him to feel safe around his dad again?
If he didn't find a way to rebuild trust with his father, failed to repair this damage between them, then it would be only a matter of time until there was nothing left to salvage.