Sam was pacing. She'd blasted some of her favorite heavy metal music and was just pacing around the room, refusing to look at him or acknowledge the way she'd abruptly logged them out of the game.
He could just leave. Heck, if he really wanted to know what had happened at lunch with Paulina he could ask Fenton himself. It would be easy to just fly into his room and demand answers.
But Phantom hadn't seen him since they'd gotten back from Wisconsin.
Also he didn't know if Fenton had put together the fact that Phantom was basically stalking his friend group with a not so subtle internet alias. It shouldn't be hard for him to figure out. Phantom had chosen the name ghosted for a reason. But Fenton could be thick at the best of times.
Phantom didn't like the way this felt though. Playing under his nose and all.
But he didn't have the guts to say: "Hey, Fenton I miss you and our friends and also I miss Doomed so I'm just gonna squeeze in here now okay? I'll work hard to level up!"
Something told him Fenton wouldn't take that too well.
The whole thing had been Sam's idea in the first place. She gave him the laptop, she pulled him into the group, she even spent actual money to give him higher level items. He might have turned all that down if she wasn't loaded. But apparently she was filthy rich.
Funny what you learn when you're dead. His best friend had never let him into her house before. They'd been friends for years, but he hadn't known her as well as he'd thought.
So now he lounged on her leather sofa inside her massive bedroom and eyed the mounted speakers which were probably killing her eardrums. And for what? As Jazz might have said, this wasn't healthy.
He unplugged Sam's speakers.
"Hey!" she said. Shouted. "I was listening to that."
"Now you can listen to me tell you that you don't need to shout," Phantom said. "And that you don't have to sacrifice your hearing to avoid the topic. You don't want me to know about Fenton and Paulina. I get it. I won't ask again."
She stopped pacing. "That's not fair," Sam said. "You can't be cool about this."
"I can't?" Phantom floated over to her. He floated on his back and pretended to backstroke swim over her head. "Why can't I?"
"You should be mad!" she said. She continued pacing. "Aren't you mad?"
"I think you're the one who's mad, Sam."
"Because he doesn't even like her." She picked up a pillow and twisted it, as if she were trying to wring water out. "It's, I don't even, he didn't know her!"
Phantom didn't have a response to that. The problem, as Sam saw it, was always the same. It wasn't about Paulina. Phantom sighed and floated down to her level, allowing his feet to reach the ground.
Sam threw the pillow at him, but it sailed through him and knocked over a lamp instead.
"He doesn't deserve to go with her," Sam said. She stomped towards him and he flinched as she deliberately walked through him. She kicked the lamp. "Urgh, doesn't it make you want to… to…"
"Possess him?" He glared at her and she flinched.
Then she squared her shoulders. "Yes! Why not?"
"That wouldn't be fair either," he murmured. He thought of Vlad Masters and how easily the ghost had merged with his human counterpart.
If he tried would Phantom reunite with his own body as easily? Could he take it back, own it, as if he'd never left?
Or would it be the death of a clone, absorbed into Danny Fenton? Leaving the boy with both. Like Vlad.
Phantom shuddered.
"But-" Sam started.
"I may be dead," Phantom said. "But I have my own life now, believe it or not."
He dove into the air with a backflip and landed feet first on the ceiling. Smirking, he started to pace.
"Did you hear about the ghost attack at the mall?" he said. "I flew in like a superhero and saved the day!"
She flopped back onto her couch with a groan, rolling her eyes at him. "Yes, yes. Flying is cool. Walking on the ceiling is cool. I get it."
"Sam, it was a ghost dragon!"
She blinked. "Oh. I did hear about that." She started to sit up, then seemed to think better of it and grabbed a pillow, settling onto her back. "I thought the rumors were exaggerating it."
"Nope!" Phantom made a show of cracking his knuckles, but he couldn't get a good sound out of it. Right, no bones. He gave up. "By the time my pare- I mean, the Fentons showed up… I'd already taken care of it. De-escalated the, uh, situation."
De-escalate. It was one of Jazz's buzz words, he thought with a pang.
"You can call them your parents, Danny," Sam said.
"No I can't. Stop calling me that," Phantom said. Sam rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. They aren't my family anymore."
"So what are you saying? You don't care about them?"
"It's not about caring or not, you ass. They're ghost hunters," he said. He allowed himself to float away from the ceiling, drifting aimlessly. "How do you think Maddie would react if I accidentally called her "mom" while she's chasing me with a Fenton bazooka?"
"Maybe she'd put down the bazooka," Sam said, dryly.
He laughed without humor. "Sure, Sam. Sure she would."
An uncomfortable silence settled over them. Phantom watched Sam shiver and grabbed a blanket without promoting. He hovered over her with the blanket held out.
A peace offering.
She took the blanket. "How did a scrawny twerp like you beat up a dragon?"
He grinned. "I didn't have to."
She motioned with her hands for him to get on with the story.
"I just talked to her," he said. "I flew directly in front of her face, so she could see me. And I spoke calmly."
Jazz had once said that the best way to approach an angry dog was with soothing tones. The ghost wasn't a dog, but he'd taken a shot in the dark.
"Turns out she was a shapeshifter," Phantom said. "When she was calm she turned into a normal lady."
Sam grunted and pointed at another pillow on her bed. What, was she building a nest? But he threw it at her and kept talking. "Well, normal for a ghost."
"Dude, you should have seen her dress," Phantom said. "And the way she talked! She was so old."
"An angry old lady?" Sam said. She even grabbed the pillow that was on the floor, bringing it into her little cocoon.
"No, she looked like she'd died young," he said. "But ages ago. Medieval times or something."
Sam grinned. "That's awesome and tragic at once."
"Isn't it? And she gave me a gift, I think." He showed her the amulet he'd been wearing under his jumpsuit ever since. "It was a little hard to understand her old timey English. But she basically said she never wanted to see this again."
"Not exactly what you want to hear when you get a gift," Sam muttered. She sat up and patted the seat beside her. He sat down and she reached for the amulet, shivering again as her arm exited the blanket. "Can I try it on?"
He gave it to her, relieved to finally take her mind off Fenton.
"This is positively gothic," Sam said. She abandoned her nest and went to her closet to pull out a dress. "Look, it matches!"
Phantom whistled. "That's some dress you got there."
She blushed. "It's supposed to be for the dance. I probably won't even go though. It's stupid."
"It's not stupid," he said. "You should go. And take the necklace."
"Really?" She frowned. "What if it's haunted?"
"Eh, I've had that thing for days and nothing's happened," Phantom said. "It's just a relic."
"Just cause nothing's happened to you doesn't mean-"
"Alright, fair point." He held his hand out to her. "Give it here then."
She held the necklace cradled against her chest. "Well," she said. "I should at least try it on… see how it looks with the dress on."
He grinned. "At least."
It looked great, of course. It was like the dress and necklace were cut from the same gargoyle themed lace cloth. So she agreed to keep it.
When her parents called her to dinner he didn't need to leave. He was welcome to loiter, she said. Again. To use her laptop or TV or… anything, really.
It was like playing hooky in a grand hotel and never getting kicked out. He could play video games all day, binge every show on Netflix, or just stretch out and nap like a cat.
The desire to sleep is what ruined it, really. It was strange. He technically never felt tired anymore. Yet sometimes he'd feel himself droop, like a wet noodle.
He'd just lie on the couch and stare at the TV without blinking. He didn't need to adjust his position, his butt wouldn't get tired of his weight. Neither of his feet ever fell asleep.
He'd spent eight hours like that once. Without realizing Netflix had stopped playing he'd just gone off into his own head. Into old memories.
Seemed freaky, in retrospect. It wasn't until Sam got home from school that he even realized how much time had passed.
Since then he'd resolved not to spend too much time at Sam's house. But where else was he supposed to go? He felt uncomfortable in public after dark.
He just wanted to be able to go home. Even just as an unacknowledged fly on the wall. It was sad, seeing his family happy without him. But it was also reassuring to check in every once in a while.
Phantom wanted them to be happy without him. He did.
Even if he didn't, or if they weren't, he knew his invisible presence was useless.
Still, he couldn't resist going. He had to know. He had to watch and eavesdrop and wallow just a little bit.
But this time an alarm went off and he booked it like a deer who spots a lion.
oOo
Invisibility had been the easiest power, at first. It had been automatic. Whenever he didn't feel safe. Or if he was uncomfortable, really.
Then it had seemed like the hardest power to control. He couldn't turn it off if he was embarrassed, for instance. Even if he was with Fenton and wanted to be seen. He'd just be stuck invisible.
Phantom had a comfortable handle on all his powers now though.
Or so he'd thought.
Then a group of college kids slipped on the ice that had spread around him as Phantom had sat in the park, curled up and miserable.
He gaped at the mess of it. There were icicles on the jungle gym. Frost in his hair. Phantom watched the cloud of their breath as the group of guys helped each other to their feet and beat a hasty retreat.
He watched them go and then stared at his hands. The frost was definitely his fault, but how did it work? It didn't have a clear origin. But Phantom found that he didn't care.
Not like the cold bothered him anyway.