It's starting to feel like I introduce every chapter with some variant of "Oh man, what a chapter to write." But, oh, man, ...
...What a chapter to write.
There's one scene in here which was rewritten no fewer than 5 times because sh*t's about to get real (as if it wasn't already). I wanted you, my precious readers, to walk away from this chapter having mentally or verbally shouted "WHAT the F**K" multiple times. Here's hoping I've succeeded.
Enjoy...if you can. MWAHAHAHAHAAAAA
Thanks again to my betas, RosyThorn and DPTTRocks! Two chapters in one month, I know! Don't get used to it; I'm just trying to stay on my original schedule. No promises because grad school has been turned up to eleven recently and will continue to worsen. :p
Side note: 23,000+ views? I'm blown away, you guys
A/N: One reader wynter3099 recommended listening to the song "Let it Lie" by Common from the Smallfoot soundtrack, and I agree! Great song, very appropriate beat and vibe. Go to youtube and add /watch?v=dascPTBaGOA after com. I also think "Natural" by Imagine Dragons is a good one for this too. Add /watch?v=V5M2WZiAy6k&index=1&list=RDV5M2WZiAy6k after the com for a Youtube-generated "Natural" playlist.
General Notes:
"This is dialogue."
"This is alternative dialogue, meaning whispered or spoken from a distance such as on the phone."
'This is thought.'
This and THIS and *this* are emphasis. The *this* emphasis is more along the lines of the snarky or sarcastic.
[This is digital text, such as notifications on a computer.]
I do not own Danny Phantom or Young Justice.
Ch. 07 originally published: Friday, November 30, 2018
RECOGNIZED
Chapter 07
Smoke and Mirrors
After Maddie had quickly collected the shattered remains of her 'World's Best Mom' mug, she came into the kitchen and found Danny leaning back against the counter while messing around on his phone. He didn't appear to notice her entrance, and the scientist couldn't help but take advantage of the opportunity to closely observe him now that she knew. His build was lean, borderline skinny when he had been younger, but now he was starting to fill in with muscle in that desirable 'V'-shape; a shape which, in retrospect, Jack had never had. His hair was black and his eyes were blue like Jack's, yes, but that blue…so ice-cold, and the hair, rivaling the darkest raven's feathers. Danny's jaw and cheekbones were so much stronger than those of her side of the family yet not as dramatically chiseled as Jack's. And his voice…nothing at all like how Jack's had sounded when they met decades ago.
How she had been so blind, Maddie would never know. It was all so obvious now. The whole family had just accepted Danny's variance in physical traits as a genetic fluke. Come to think of it, they had 'just accepted' a lot about Danny in recent times…
"Hello, sweetie," Maddie cooed, as-yet unsure of how to best approach the situation until she had time to process. "How did the project go?"
"Ugh, it reeked," he answered, throwing his head back in exasperation. "But at least it's done now. Sam's almost done with her project too, so we're going to her house tomorrow to hang, if that's alright?"
"Sure, Danny, that's fine with me. As long as you've finished your work."
"Don't worry; The Grapes of Wrath has successfully taught me all about dehumanization and the *saving power of family and friendship,*" he said with a chuckle.
Maddie grimaced and changed the subject. "Did the Foleys feed you?"
"Yeah, Mrs. Foley made her famous meatloaf," Danny recounted with a fond smile.
"And did Tucker get a kick out of that costume?"
Danny faltered. "Costume?"
"Yeah…your Halloween costume," Maddie clarified in a tone suggesting he should know what she was talking about. "That Robin costume you were trying on this morning to see if it still fit?"
A blur of reactions crossed Danny's face. He finally settled on exaggerated realization. "Oh, right, the costume! I really think of it as more of a *uniform.* That's why I was so confused. Because…words," he finished lamely.
"Right," Maddie said. She clearly didn't believe him but didn't want to push the subject. She looked up and down his person and noticed it was nowhere to be found. "Where is it now?"
"I, uh, left it at Tucker's. He wanted it for cosplay or something, so I let him borrow it."
"That was nice of you," his mother said. "Well, you should head to bed now. It's getting late."
"Right. Good night, Mom."
"Good night, Danny!" She pulled him into a hug out of habit and frowned. He felt just like her son. He fit into her embrace just like her son. But then…he never *was* her son, was he?
As soon as Danny left the kitchen, Maddie turned to head back to the lab to finish cleaning her mess. But, listening to his footsteps recede upstairs and come to a halt in his room, she paused. Something just didn't feel right. Danny's Robin costume had slight padding in the muscles to compensate for his wiry frame. This morning, though…the fabric shifted just a little too realistically over his muscles in places where it would have appeared stiff and fake before.
Maddie instead sauntered to the storage room upstairs at the end of the hall. Years of family memories haunted that room, but there was only one box she cared about on this particular evening.
HALLOWEEN - Box 2 - Old Costumes
Somehow she wasn't surprised the tape seal wasn't broken. Maddie used her thumbnail to slice it apart and open the box. There, twisted amongst the other costumes and clearly untouched for some time, was that incriminatingly red, yellow and black costume. She scrunched her face in wonder.
Jazz' door was shut already, so Danny went straight to his room where his door sat slightly ajar. He pushed it open and dropped his backpack to the floor beside his desk. After flicking the switch on his desk lamp a few times, he realized it wouldn't turn on. Danny followed the cord to where the plug sat loose beside his power strip.
"Welcome home."
Danny jumped around and, in a defensive stance, visually swept the room. There, in the corner by the window…
A glint of light off the facial region immediately put Danny at ease, albeit thoroughly in annoyance. "Did you seriously unplug my lamp for the sake of a dramatic entrance?!" he whisper-shouted. "What the hell are you doing in my room? Returning whatever it is you probably stole earlier? What did you tell my mom?!"
"I'm not a burglar, Fenton."
"That's not a denial, Robin," Danny mocked.
"Actually, I came to return something I found out on the streets," the hero said and tossed something across the room.
Danny caught it easily. "My wallet?" he asked. "I didn't even know I lost it. Thanks, I guess. How did you find it? Wait…were you following me?!"
Both boys went still as statues when footsteps approached. The hallway outside creaked, but whoever it was—probably Danny's mother—kept going.
"You're welcome, by the way. Look, Fenton, you got into a top-secret Justice League campus using my credentials. That's not the sort of security slip-up we ignore, because we don't ignore anything. I had to make sure you're not a supervillain or clone hell-bent on dismantling our team."
"Let it go, already! I have NO IDEA how I got in; you're overestimating me here. Now can you please leave me alone? It's been a long day."
"Oh, I think I *estimated* you just fine, but have it your way. I'm pretty beat, too. Gotta get back to the cave." Robin pulled something round from his pocket. "See you around, Fenton."
With a great flash, the hero's ninja smoke bombs clouded the air between Danny and Robin. Hearing Robin's ominous laugh dying through the vapor, Danny coughed and waved his hand around to clear the air around his face. A few seconds later, he could finally see again.
Only to find Robin still standing awkwardly across the room. Danny crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in lieu of verbalizing his question.
"…Your window is stuck."
Considering the colossus of a debt Dick owed Wally for venturing into Axion to rescue him, he really should not be complaining. Yet, after all the emotional and psychological duress he'd endured this weekend, Wally insisted this be Dick's favor in return. How on Earth Wally had found time to develop a Nasty Burger habit, Dick would never know. Regardless, Dick probably owed his life to Wally, for this particular weekend and all the countless missions before, so the least he could do is make one final appearance in Amity as Richard Grayson to get him food, come what may.
"Hey, it's Grayson!" the blond jock called out from the corner booth as he stood and waved. "Remember me, Dash Baxter, from the party on Friday?"
'Lightning Legs better appreciate this,' Dick growled in his mind while he plastered on a fake smile; naturally, Amity's A-listers would be at the Nasty Burger when he showed up. "Hey, Baxter! How could I forget?" he spoke jovially.
Dash slapped a hand onto his shoulder and steered him towards the table. "Come join us. We were just talking about you."
"Actually," Dick answered, flexibly twisting out of the athlete's grasp, "I gotta get some grub for us and run; our jet leaves in an hour. What's good here?"
"Oh! Pretty much anything, bro." Dash led him to the counter where an African-American girl waited disinterestedly. She perked, though, when she saw who was with Dash. "Hey, Val, can you hook up my buddy Dick up with something good?"
"Wait," she said. "Dick? Like Dick Grayson?" She looked him up and down. "Oh. I could have sworn you were-"
"Don't even mention that twinkie's name; he's not worthy," Dash growled.
Valerie pursed her lips and quirked up an eyebrow.
"You're not the first person to confuse us," Dick said in an attempt to derail whatever conflict was brewing. "Soooo…food?"
"Right! Put it on my bill," Dash told Val.
"Thanks, Dash, but I can pay for it," Dick said.
"Are you kidding, bro?" Dash appeared somewhat indignant. "You're a guest in our town!"
Dick grinned inwardly. "Alright, but I gotta warn you: my friend has quite an appetite."
"You're saying this to a star quarterback, man! Don't worry about it," Dash insisted. "I'd get the Mighty Meaty burger. One of those usually fills me up."
"Okay," Dick said, turning to Val. "I'll take seventeen of those and 8 fries to go, please."
"What?!" Dash shouted just as Dick's phone buzzed with an alert.
"I told you, my friend Wally has a huge appetite," Dick explained with a smirk he couldn't help but emote. He read the alert on his phone screen, a message from his smart sunglasses disguised as a simple text message.
Glass: [Positive ID for Gray, Valerie, daughter of Gray, Damon, head of security at Axion Labs. Similar facial structure, vocal range, inflection, and stature to incomplete profile with working title 'Red Huntress.']
Dick's smirk grew as he looked back up to Valerie.
"Alright, lemme go get my wallet," Dash grumbled and sulked away muttering something about 'this month's whole allowance.'
"Sorry about him," Val muttered once the jock was out of earshot and leaned conspiratorially over the counter. "I'd stay away from him if you know what's good for you. He and his cronies aren't very...real."
"Heh," Dick chuckled, recalling Red Huntress' earlier advice about Phantom. "Maybe we should send him to Belle Reve."
Valerie frowned at the familiarity of those words and looked Dick up and down. Fortunately, the jock returned before any dots could connect.
It took an agonizing twenty-five minutes to prepare his behemoth of an order without infuriating the other waiting customers, so Dick passed the time at the A-listers' table. He welcomed the brisk spring morning air once he was able to escape the snobby social-climbers, and he couldn't help but put some of that spring in his step as he walked back to the hotel where he, Bruce and Wally were staying. His thoughts turned pensive, though, as an armored Cadmus truck turned from the street leading to Axion Labs and rumbled past in the direction of the interstate.
Danny forwent his usual clever quip in favor of a yawn when he deposited Bertrand back into the portal on Sunday morning. Raiding Axion and helping rescue Robin from the clutches of Vladimir Masters had taken a lot out of him.
Not so much, though, that he didn't notice an alert on his mother's desktop:
[FAMILIAL LINK NEGATIVE. CONTROL SAMPLE AND 'Fenton_Daniel-James_swab' MATCH NEGATIVE. FRATERNAL RELATION SUSPECTED. VERIFY? Yes/No]
"Shit." Danny slammed his hands down on the worktop and read a little more carefully. There was a lot of technical data which flew over his head, but he was able to understand a sample of his DNA showed no link to his parents'. He straightened and rubbed his chin with one hand, looking about the lab for guidance on what to do.
The answer was simple, what he always did: cover his tracks.
[DNA SEQUENCING RESULTS DELETED. RETURN TO HOME?]
Danny left the computer on the homescreen, hopeful that he'd deleted the test in time. His mother was smart—too smart, in his opinion—and clearly she would remember having initiated the analysis; but, this would at least buy him a couple hours to figure out what to do. He would have to go to Sam's and ask Tucker to join them.
Just as the door to the lab shut behind Danny as he sprinted upstairs to get ready, the computer pinged with a new notification.
[SEQUENCING SUCCESSFULLY BACKED UP TO SERVER LOCATION F:/analysis_biological/DNA/fenton/daniel_james]
Sunday morning found Lucius in his private lab in Wayne Tech's Applied Sciences division. It only took two tests to successfully sequence the hair sample's DNA. It was a perfect match to the pattern on file for Richard Grayson/Robin. However, breaking down the mystery substance turned out to be a significantly more monumental task than Lucius had initially anticipated. This chemical compound, allegedly 'ectoplasm,' didn't match or resemble anything in Wayne Tech's databases. Nor did it in any way seem to relate to Richard Grayson's DNA.
It took some time before he noticed something: it appeared almost cellular. He focused even closer onto the contents and started seeing a very familiar ladder-like structure within. On a whim, he ran a small sample through a DNA sequencing machine with a slight modification to the settings to identify foreign molecules as well as the conventional aminos. Unsurprisingly, no typical amino acids were found.
But the four repeating alkalies?
Lucius couldn't help but grin. It was clearly an undocumented form of DNA. He brought up Dick's sequencing and established the patterning of his aminos. He then brought up the sequencing results of the glowing green sample's alkalies.
It was a perfect inverse. What a beautiful spring Sunday indeed.
"I'm telling you, you guys, she's really suspicious! She's going to find out I'm officially not her son within a few hours, if that. Oh, new fun fact: I'm now officially not the real Danny Fenton! What are we gonna do?!" Danny bellowed.
"First thing you're going to do is unhand my favorite spider backpack," Sam threatened.
Danny looked down at the bag twisted within his grasp and sighed, tossing it onto Sam's bed.
"Good." Sam walked up and slapped her hands down on Danny's shoulders, holding him so they would be practically eye to eye. "And now, you're going to calm down and play a couple rounds of Doomed with us. It's out of our control now; there's nothing we can do at this point without making your mom any more certain than she would have been." She released his shoulders and stepped back. "It's a sucky fact, but your mom's going to find out you're not actually a Fenton, maybe more. We have to play dumb, because the last thing we need is your dad overreacting and shooting at you or something."
"He wouldn't do that," Danny assured in a moment of confidence. And then he hesitated. "Oh my god, Dad would totally do that. I'm doomed!"
"No! You're playing Doomed. Now. Go."
"Yeah, what she said," Tucker added and stood. "Man, all this is getting confusing. Someone seriously needs to stop messing with the timeline!"
Danny froze. Of course. Somebody had to have been screwing with the timeline. His eyes narrowed, and his teeth clenched. Danny growled with heavy accusation, "Clockwork…"
Maddie frowned, steam curling from her clinically white mug of tea. Why were the results not displayed outright? She sighed and opened the archived results of the DNA analysis.
'Hmm…So *Danny* was never Danny, and THIS *Danny* isn't the *Danny* we've had all along…This isn't a problem, no big deal, just a biological mystery to solve…'
She used every mental wall she could possibly build to avoid letting the panic attack sink in. If she lost control of herself now, she couldn't help this Danny, nor could she find out what happened to her real son. Something definitely happened at the start of Danny's life. Now it was a matter of deduction. She needed to take proactive steps, stay focused, find answers…
Bake. She definitely needed to bake something. Relieve the initial stress through therapeutic baking, and move forward with newfound clarity. One batch of cookies—Danny's favorite, to help soften the blow when she told him what she discovered—and then she'd get to work.
Maddie smiled and held up the successful batch of fudge. Baking: a science; the result is always predictable, it never surprises. Danny would positively love it, and it would help comfort him once he'd heard the news. Baking the fudge had allowed Maddie to ponder the situation and decide that she was not the kind of mother to hide the truth from her children. She would tell Danny as soon as he was home.
"Fudge! My favorite!" Jack bellowed as he entered the kitchen.
Maddie's smile fell to dejection. "Oh, no! It is your favorite! I forgot Danny doesn't like it as much as you do. What *is* his favorite goodie?" she asked herself.
Jack stole a large square from the platter. "Any special reason you want to make our boy's favorite?"
Maddie winced. "That's just it," she replied, hesitating. "I've been suspicious again lately, so I ran a DNA test and-"
"Now, now, Mads, you're forgetting all your visits with that therapist and those countless trips to visit that supportive florist friend of yours up in Gotham. I thought we were past this!"
Maddie slammed the platter of fudge onto the counter, one or two pieces jostling onto the work surface. "It came back negative, Jack," she snapped. "I wasn't crazy. There's a boy about to come home from a nice, relaxing afternoon of video games with his friends, and I have to tell him he's not our son." She softened and ran a finger lovingly along the platter's edge. "Well…not our biological son, anyway."
"Wha-" Jack sputtered and dropped his fudge square to the floor. "Y—you can't be serious."
"I've never been more serious in my whole goddamned life, Jack. I ran multiple tests to be sure. Neither the sample I collected yesterday nor the control samples we keep in cryo-storage matched our family's DNA in any measurable way."
"Sufferin' spooks," Jack breathed and sat heavily in a chair.
"It took a few attempts too. Oh, and get this, Mr. Expert Ecto-Scientist: his DNA is riddled with ectoplasmic residue!" she barked. "No biohazard, my ass. I'm surprised he doesn't glow in the dark with the amount of ectoplasm permeating this whole house!"
"But…how?"
"I don't know, Jack. We'll have to talk to him and find out how much time he's spending in the lab." She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Lord knows this explains why our equipment is always targeting him: he practically radiates the stuff. I'm going to have to run countless tests to find out how extensive the contamination is."
Jack let out a deep breath. "None of this makes sense," he said.
"You haven't even heard all of it," Maddie answered and sat across from him. "His current DNA doesn't match the sample from when he was in kindergarten."
"Didn't you once say everyone's DNA mutates over time?"
"Not to this extent. He's practically an entirely different person from before."
Realization slowly dawned on Jack's face. At a speed so slow it had to be unconscious, he sat up in his chair. "An entirely different person," he parroted.
Maddie met his ever-crazing gaze. "Jack, no," she warned. "We are not discussing this again."
"Think about it, Mads!" he said. "No DNA match, entirely different person, sudden behavioral changes…that is not our son. He's-"
"What? A clone?" Maddie quipped.
"A ghost clone!"
"No! That is crazy!"
"Any crazier than believing your newborn baby wasn't your son when no one would believe you?"
His wife glowered. "You are not attacking or threatening him in any way until we know more. Am I understood?"
Jack frowned.
"Clockwork?"
Phantom's voice echoed through the cavernous rooms of the castle.
"Clockwork, I know you're here. You're literally everywhere all the time like a…god or something," Danny called. Nothing. He floated apprehensively through the halls until he came to the observation room, the largest in the lair.
The room was vacant, as expected, but a scene was playing silently on the screens. It was a hospital, Phantom realized, after a few moments of watching the colorfully uniformed bustle in the halls. He glided closer to one screen before re-materializing his legs and standing before it. The screen magically focused on a form in a passing nurse's hand and paused the playback, allowing the teen a glance of the heading on the top page.
L'Hôpital Hôtel Dieu, Paris. Wednesday, March 20, 2002.
Phantom's lips parted slightly. He knew that hospital. He knew that date. It was has birthdate and location, after all.
Playback continued.
The 'camera' seemed to follow the nurse into a room labeled "NICU - Neonatal Intensive Care Unit." Inside, three babies lay inside two plexiglass-domed isolettes with a host of machines monitoring them. The two babies in the shared bed wore a red and a yellow beanie, respectively. The baby lying alone in the far bed wore a blue beanie. Two nurses and a doctor crowded around the shared bed, the atmosphere thickening with solemnity as they tried desperately to revive the baby in yellow. It didn't take long for Phantom to recognize the beanies. Lord knows how many times he'd seen it in photos from the day of his birth; it was one of his mother's favorite stories to tell, a story of suspense and near-heartbreak. But for the life of him, in this moment of heightened emotion, he couldn't remember what color his beanie had been in those photos. Hadn't it been blue?
The nurse seeming to be the camera's primary subject gave her clipboard one final glimpse before hanging it from the shared isolette next to another. With steadicam-like grace, Phantom's viewing screen arced past the beds, revealing the name 'Grayson' at the tops of the clipboards on the shared bed and 'Fenton' at the top of the one hanging from the baby in blue's isolette.
...Why were there two babies in the Grayson bed?
One of the Graysons—the one in yellow—laid perfectly still apart from the nurses' tenuous movements in their attempt to revive him. Phantom couldn't hope to breathe as his chest tightened with apprehension. Unfortunately, after minutes of hurried orders and panicked movements, the nurses finally accepted their efforts were futile. One of the Grayson babies was no more.
The camera then repositioned to observe all three babies from the corner as the tension in the scene gradually bled out, allowing dejection to take root instead. The staff was slow to clean as they set aside instruments and medicines. After they gently separated the twins as much as could be done in the small bed, they took their leave through the opposite door in search of doctors and families. Only a steady beeping from one of the shared isolette's EKG machines broke the poignant silence.
Phantom frowned and sat down on a chair which may or may not have been there before, but it didn't matter at the moment. Onscreen, he was alive and well, apart from being in the NICU. So what-?
Suddenly, there was an odd squawk of a noise from just off-screen, and electricity arced between the isolettes. Eyes widening in shock, Phantom sat up ramrod-straight on the chair. On-screen Fenton's heartbeat flatlined while the shared crib's silent EKG heralded the return of a pulse. Another electrical arc—this one larger than the last—temporarily shut down all systems and lights in the room from the sudden influx of energy. Phantom gaped seconds later as the EKG's jumped back to life, signaling Fenton's heart beating rapidly while the other crib's machines both flatlined once more.
At this point, the wood of the chair nearly splintered from the intensity of Phantom's grasp. The omnipotent camera panned around the hospital staff stampeding back into the room. As they tried to manage the situation, some staff trying to save the second Grayson and others supporting Fenton with his skyrocketing heart rate, the camera temporarily landed on the flatlining Grayson's beanie. Almost divinely, the lights in the room turned back on.
Blue.
Why was the dying Grayson's beanie blue? Hadn't it been red? Had Fenton's always been red? Was it red in the family photos from that day? Good God…had Fenton and one of the Graysons' beanies swapped colors? He couldn't be sure.
It didn't take long for Phantom's panic to subvert his thought. He now *was* sure. His mind erased any doubt in favor of finally having an explanation of what had happened. He is not to be blamed; it had been a week and two weekends of turmoil and deviance from the already precarious secret-superhero norm with which he was intimately familiar. Never mind the fact that both 'Graysons' were apparently dead, because whatever his beanie's color may have been in the photos at home. Phantom knew what he saw; it was plain as day now: Deceased baby Fenton and electrical-shock-revived baby Grayson had been mysteriously switched amidst the chaos of a temporarily powerless NICU. He could only wonder what caused the arc of electricity between the isolettes and whether it was circumstantial or directly related to the apparent switch.
Phantom stood and backed tentatively from the screen. He tripped backwards over the chair, tumbling to his behind and crawling backwards while unable to tear his eyes away. Grayson in red, Fenton in blue, now Grayson in blue, Fenton in red, Grayson in blue, Fenton in red, Fenton in red, Fenton in red...
He sprinted from the hall, forgetting completely about his ability to fly until he reached the edge of the lair.
Clockwork couldn't help but sigh to himself in despair. He hated the deception; he almost wished that—despite already knowing would happen, and what would come to pass as a result—things could turn out differently. He wished Phantom had stayed to watch another few minutes of playback or perhaps arrived slightly earlier to see what had transpired in the moments prior to Phantom's arrival in the present. Because he knew very well that the color of baby Fenton's beanie in the 'Paris 2002' photo album was, in fact, blue.
Danny resurfaced in the alleyway beside Fenton Works. Nerves comprehensively frayed, his breath shuddered erratically as he pressed back against the wall. Danny glanced to and fro looking at everything and nothing. Both hands ran through his tousled locks of jet black hair, jet black hair which was not Danny Fenton's. It was…Grayson's. He couldn't manage to stay up for long. What even was up? Directions are purely based on one's own position on a spherical object in the vast expanses of space. Danny would know; he wanted to be an astronaut. Well, Danny, James, whoever he was wanted to be an astronaut.
Why was he thinking about his insignificance in relation to the entire universe at a time like this? It didn't matter if Danny did accept human-assigned directions as absolute, because no matter what word described it, he couldn't tell which way would be 'up' anyway, nor could he remain standing 'up' or whatever word could be used to best describe it. He collapsed to the ground.
"Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy-"
A buzz from his pocket stopped the assault of language unsuitable for children's ears. It was a text delivered to his cell phone now that it was back on the mortal plane and communicating with the nearest tower.
Sam: Let me know when you're back. We want to hear what happened.
Still hyperventilating, Danny immediately dialed her number.
"Hello?" came her greeting after only one and a half rings.
"I'm not Danny Fenton. I went to Clockwork's, he wasn't there, but the hospital was playing and I saw myself get switched with Grayson like on screen, and oh my god should you call me James Grayson now? I can't breathe I cant take this anymore Sam I can't."
"Okay, Danny? Breathe for me. Breathe, in for one-two-three-four-five-six-hold…hold…hold…and exhale one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight. And in one-two-three-" This continued for a few moments until Danny had somewhat normalized. "I can't believe Grandpa Time wasn't there," Sam commented drily.
"I know what I saw, Sam," Danny asserted, weary from the fading panic. "I didn't need to hear whatever temporal crap he has to say. We can never get a straight answer out of him anyway."
"Alright, well…" Sam faltered. "Just play it cool. Your mom is suspicious enough as it is. Besides, you can't exactly explain how you found this out without giving *everything* away."
"We might as well, at this point," Danny answered defeatedly. "Everything's going to fall apart in a couple hours anyway."
"Just come on over, relax for a bit, grab your stuff and head home to take a nap. You're not sounding too good. I'll update Jazz so you don't have to worry about it."
"Alright." Danny released a deep sigh. "I'll be there in a few."
Despite Sam and Tucker's coaching and encouragement all afternoon, the front door never looked so intimidating. Its wooden frame towered above, like the gates to an impenetrable fortress. 'Fenton Works'…even the name on the neon sign was mocking him. Danny took one last deep breath before unlocking and opening the door. Praying that his mother hadn't gotten the test results yet, he inched his way into the kitchen where he heard some movement.
"Hey, Mom, is Jazz home?" he greeted.
"Hi, Danny, my beautiful, sweet baby boy… No, she's studying at a friend's."
With the back of a chair in his grasp, Danny finally took in his surroundings. His mother, devoid of her usual high spirits, sat anxiously at the other end of the table. Her hair was subtly disheveled, not so much it was distracting but too much so to escape Danny's notice. Platters of fudge and cookies covered every square inch of table and countertop in the room. A huge pile of pots and mixing bowls filled the sink and buried the stove.
Desperately trying to maintain his oblivious façade, Danny squinted in suspicion and uneasily sat down in his chair. "How was your day?"
"Oh it was awful, Danny. I couldn't remember which kind of cookie was your favorite so I just made—well—all of them…" she answered sadly.
Alarm bells. Loud, cacophonous alarm bells rang in Danny's head.
'She knows already.'
"Um…thanks?" he said. Danny gulped in a superfluous attempt to settle his nerves. "Are there any caramel apple doodles?"
Maddie's visage momentarily brightened. "Yes! Right here." She passed a platter across the table then sobered once again. Maddie struggled to meet Danny's gaze. "Um…sweetie, there's something I need to tell you. Though based on your behavior the past few days," she added with hesitation, "part of me thinks you already know what I have to say…"
Danny's head bowed. He set the tray down in his lap and stared at the cookies. For a moment, he debated whether to play dumb. But the time for feigning innocence was long gone. The situation had changed, come what may.
"I'm not your son," he managed to whisper, eyes scrunched tightly shut in emotional pain. Admitting it out loud to someone outside his circle of trust...where was Sam's advice when his brain needed to remember it?
"Danny, there's one thing I want you to remember," Maddie said. She stood, chair scraping against the tile floor, and came to sit next to Danny. She took his hands in hers and looked deliberately into his eyes. "You may not be our biological son—and Lord knows this is a shock to me—but you will always be our son."
"A-am I, though?" he said. "No one knows who I am, no one knows where I came from…. We've all been faking it for years and didn't even know!"
"Our love for you could never be faked, Danny." Maddie laid a comforting hand on Danny's clenched fists.
"Me neither," Danny begrudgingly admitted without making eye contact. "How did you figure it out?"
"You should know; you found the DNA test results."
"W-what? But I- But it- Noooo…" he tried to deny.
"Come on, Danny; I'm not naïve. The test results were deleted, but the backup had finished beforehand. And it didn't take much searching through the security footage from this morning to find you."
"Thesecurityfootage…" he exhaled breathily. "You mean—"
"We've had cameras in the lab for years, Danny. Just never had a reason to look through the footage before."
"Security cameras." Danny gulped. "Great."
"But Danny, I want to promise to you we're going to get to the bottom of this. I won't rest until we find out who- who you were…supposed to be."
Danny merely nodded.
"Something else was odd, though; a couple things, actually," Maddie continued as she took a cookie for herself and joined Danny in staring off into space. "I took a swab from your water glass from Friday evening and compared it with the DNA sequences we have in our archives for biometrics in the lab."
'Oh no…please don't say ectoplasm, please don't say ectoplasm, PLEASE DON'T SAY ECTOPLASM-'
"They didn't match."
Record scratch, freeze-frame, shattering glass. "W-what?" he asked breathily.
"Well, after I isolated the DNA—we'll come back to that—I found your DNA now doesn't match up with what it was when you were a kid. Everyone's DNA micro-mutates over time, but yours has changed more than normal given the amount of time between samples. It's like-"
"-I'm an entirely different person," he finished. Danny juddered to his feet and began backing away from his mom, inching his way towards the stairs as he descended into panic once more. He had suspected a relation to Robin-slash-Dick; he had virtually confirmed it at Clockwork's. But to find evidence in support of their worst fears… "N-no, that's—that's wrong. I can't be- I'm not- Because then our theory-"
Danny's thoughts rapidly devolved into hyperventilation.
'CLONE.'
Maddie stood and held out her hands almost defensively. "Danny, honey, I need you to stay calm. I know I've had more time than you to process, but you need to keep a level head, okay? Because there's more I need to tell you."
His glacial blue eyes locked onto her completely unrelated violet ones. "It's the ectoplasm, isn't it?" Danny cried through the beginnings of tears. "Oh, god, this is happening…"
"Yes, it's—wait, how did you know that?" Maddie asked.
Danny shook his head. "No, no, I can't do this now, I can't do-" He gasped. "You didn't tell Dad, did you? About the ectoplasm?"
"Of course I did!" she said. "We both care about you. Your health is at risk here."
"No. No! Dad's totally going to freak out!" Danny roughly gripped her shoulders in desperation. "Don't you see? He's going to think I'm a-"
"Ghost!" Jack barked from the kitchen doorway, massive gun in hand. "Unhand my wife."
Danny's eyes couldn't have been wider. With his mouth slightly agape, Danny crept backwards up one stair…two…three… "D-Dad?"
"Only my son gets to call me that," Jack growled. He raised his gun and aimed.
Danny flinched at a sudden clattering noise. He identified it as the cookies jumping around the platter still surprisingly in his grasp. Danny desperately tried to stop his shaking hands only to find his nerves couldn't cope with the panic overtaking his mind. "I didn't know, I still don't-"
"Don't try me, mister! I spent all day trying to figure this out in that lab—the one I started to protect my family—and I'm not in the mood for any more confusion. Just give it to me straight: Who are you and what did you do with my real son?"
"Jack! Stop this at once!" Maddie ordered. "Can't you see he's panicking? That he doesn't know either?"
"No, Maddie! This kid's DNA doesn't match ours, and he has copious amounts of ectoplasm bonded to his DNA. So either it's taken over some poor sap's body or it found a way to mimic a real body! START TALKING, ECTOPLASMIC SCUM!"
Danny began hyperventilating. "Bu-bu-but I don'-I didn't want to- I mean, this-this isn't the way! No, we can't do this now, I'm not ready!" he blubbered. "Please, just gimme a chance to think and to get Tuck and Sam over here to help!"
"Jack, calm down!" Maddie begged.
"NO!" Jack barked. "Just look at his eyes, Maddie! If you needed any proof he's not who we thought he is, the evidence is literally staring us in the face!"
Maddie did look, and she gasped. Danny looked at his reflection in the polished surface of the platter and saw his eyes were indeed glowing. He slammed them shut and suppressed the ecto-energy flaring in self-defense.
"Years ago, we thought it was Jazz who had been replaced with a ghost. Turns out it was our Danny all along! What are you?!"
Chaos.
Flying. Flying. Flying. Instinctively, Danny tossed the tray forwards and sent the cookies careening through the air. The boy used the distraction to leap over the banister, sailing over the television and away from his position trapped on the staircase. As his torso cleared the banister, the front door banged open, startling Jack. A single ecto-blast sizzled through the air past Maddie and caught Danny in his right oblique.
Tumbling. Tumbling. Tumbling. Disintegrating cookies rained down on the Fenton parents. Their forearms came up to shield their faces from the crumbs. Danny curled into a ball from the instantaneous pain, using the force from the blast to help him somersault onto the coffee table, smashing it to smithereens. A haunting scream emanated from Jazz who stood in the open doorway.
In a flash, Danny hurdled to his feet and sprinted past Jazz with a hand clutching his bloody side. Cookie crumbs pitter-pattered against the entryway tile around the Fenton parents. The two adults were right on Danny's heels, darting around their petrified daughter as soon as they'd recovered from the barrage of baked goods. Danny slammed the door in their faces, but Jack and Maddie whipped it open instantly.
Only to find an empty stoop. Danny had literally disappeared.
"Where did he go?" Jack asked weakly. Maddie wheeled on him and punched his arm hard.
"What is going on?!" Jazz demanded.
"What were you thinking?! PULLING A GUN ON OUR OWN SON?!" Maddie asked, ignoring her daughter in favor of shouting at her husband.
"That's not our son!" Jack insisted.
"So you SHOT HIM?!"
"I thought he was going on the attack!"
"Why would he attack us?! We raised him!"
"Or did we! Danny's been acting strange ever since the accident when he got the portal working! What if a ghost came through, stole his body and is sucking it dry like a protoplasmic parasite?"
Maddie stilled and blinked once. Twice. A deep, slow, deliberate breath. She reached for her husband's collar and pulled him down to her eye-level. A protective mother's glare narrowed her eyes to slits. "Jack Fenton, you listen to me, and you listen good," she growled. "Until further notice, that boy is our son, and he's just run away because he's hurting emotionally and you shot him! Pull yourself together so we can go find our boy.
"Now get in the FUCKING CAR!" she finished in a shout.
Maddie waited a moment until she was sure the fear had been set into him. She released his jumpsuit from her grasp and stormed inside to get her keys. Stunned, Jack shuddered and sulked to the RV. Jazz surreptitiously took out her phone and sent a rushed text to Sam and Tucker.
A couple blocks away, Danny finally released his invisibility in a house's shadow. He slammed back against the wall and slid to the ground, a very common position for him on this day. Danny withdrew his right palm from his side and held it in front of him to stare at the blood. His breaths quickened even more as he descended further and further into shock. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings, looking for any sign of a threat.
RING RING
Danny spasmed. It was only his phone.
RING RING
He awkwardly reached across his body with his left hand and pulled his phone out of his right pocket. It was only his friend. He answered, "Sam-"
"WHATHAPPENEDTELLMENOW."
"I-" His breath hitched in pain. Danny pulled his hand away from his side and looked at the faintly glowing blood. "I'm next to, uh—a house. I don't know whose house, I don't know where. I just ran until I couldn't stay invisible anymore. She didn't just test my DNA against the family's; she tested it against a sample she took when I was a kid and—and it doesn't match. I'm not the same me, Sam. I don't know what's going on…"
"Shit."
"And, big surprise, Mom found ectoplasm in my blood when they tested it. I freaked, and Dad shot me, and then I ran."
"Your dad SHOT you?! Like…he didn't miss?"
"Yeah, it was point blank. I th-" He hissed and leaned back against a wall. "I think it was an accident, though. Holy crap what did Dad—Jack—Dad—*Jack* do to that gun?"
"He's still your dad, Danny, remember that. I'm sure it was an accident, okay? And whatever he said, emotions were high-"
"You didn't see the look on his face, Sam," he said. "It was like I had ripped out his heart and now he was out for blood. He-he thinks I did something to the *real* Danny! At least Mom was trying to keep it under control…" He heard a door slam on the other end of the line. "What are you doing?"
"Coming to find you, doofus. I just left. Where are you?"
"No, Sam, I need to-"
"WHERE."
"Couple blocks from the house. I—I was heading to your house anyway…"
"Good. Although we'll have to figure things out once you're bandaged. My house and Tucker's will be the first places they look. How badly are you bleeding?"
"It-" He looked down and threw his head back against the wall in frustration. "It's pretty bad."
"Don't worry, I'm on my-"
"Why, if it isn't my favorite freak!"
Danny froze in place at the sound of the sweet voice. "Oh, no…" he whispered into the phone and slowly looked at the materializing, feminine figure. "Spectra…"
"No! I knew Bertrand showing up was a bad sign. Don't listen to her, Danny! Just get away from her!" Panting and stampeding footsteps interrupted her speech.
"Oh, dear, that looks like a nasty scrape! Someone I know?" she asked in faux concern.
"Jus' go 'way, Spettra," Danny slurred, suddenly feeling woozy. " 'mnot gonna lissen t'you."
"Oh, but you already are, sweetie," she cooed. "That looks almost like a gunshot." Spectra gasped. "No! Did someone shoot you even in human form? Did somebody find out your little *secret*?"
"Danny, please, don't listen to her! Don't say anything!" Sam begged between pants of breath. "I'll be there as soon as I can!"
"That sort of burn looks just like what a Fenton weapon makes, doesn't it?" she continued unabashed. Spectra gently ran her fingertips around the wound and grinned as green energy seeped out. "Mmmmmm, I do believe I've hit it on the nose, haven't I?"
"…Acciden'," Danny managed. "Scared 'em."
"Well, of course you scared them! Their own son turning out to be a half-ghost weirdo? My goodness, I'm surprised they didn't get a better shot in! What caused them to finally snap?"
Danny winced. "Complicated."
"Danny, stop talking!" Sam shouted on the phone.
"You're not going to make me play 20 questions, are you?" Spectra laughed. "Oh, well, I suppose guessing is half the fun. Now why would your own parents reject you? Tell me, Danny, how does it feel to not be wanted? How does it feel to have no one to turn to for shelter in the entire town? After all, your parents are very persistent, bless their hearts. They will hunt you down, they will find you, and they will tear you to bits, molecule…by…molecule…"
The last words were but a whisper, but they stung with full force. Danny curled in on himself. 'Don't listen to her, it's not true, well it's not REALLY true, you just need to heal and then talk it all out with your parents and find out why they didn't know you aren't even their son and you'll have to leave Amity, there's nowhere here you can hide, there's no one who can help-
'No one in AMITY who can help…'
The boy sniffed. "I know what I have to do," Danny spoke in a moment of clarity. Puffy-eyed and bloody, he looked up at Spectra with mouth agape.
"What? Danny-" Sam began.
"What? No, that's-" Spectra's cocky glint died as Danny searched her eyes for…something. "No! I wasn't trying to help. Go back to wallowing!"
"Too late." Danny unsteadily rose and let his phone fall aside.
"Danny? Danny! What are you doing?! Talk to me!"
"Goodbye, Spectra." Danny transformed and rocketed off into the air.
"No! Come back, you miserable little AAAUUUUGGGHHH!" Spectra cried out as an ecto-blast hit her. She looked and saw Sam fuming a few steps away. "You."
"What did you do?" Sam asked threateningly, wrist ray aimed and charged.
"Apparently, I actually helped the sad little twerp," the ghost spat back and crossed her arms. "You're welcome."
Sam sucked her into a thermos.
"Thanks."
Sam ran over and found Danny's forgotten phone still connected to her call. She gently picked it up and looked to the sky. "Be careful, Danny," she cautioned quietly to thin air and clutched the phone to her chest.
The Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle barreled past.
This week's Easter Egg: The 'overestimate-estimate' wordplay is a subtle nod to one of Michael Scott's best lines on The Office.
Clarification: I thought I would provide a tiny bit of clarification for the hospital scene, though it will be minimal since it is meant to be confusing to some extent. At the start, the Fenton baby is in blue and the Graysons are in yellow and red, yellow having passed away already. At the end of the part Phantom observes, Fenton is in red and the Graysons are in yellow and blue.
[UPDATE Thursday, January 3]: So as I mentioned in the author's note on Dec. 19 (left below for reference), chapter 08 will be published [only] a couple weeks behind schedule because I reached the point in the story where everything had been COMPLETELY plotted and thus entered the portion where I had a general direction leading to the story's conclusion, but there was still a lot of rising action to figure out. Motivations had to be double-checked, characters had to maintain a purpose in remaining in the plot, and a lot of hectic near-miss action had to be blocked. Good news, though: it is nearly done and chapter 08 has finally been drafted for beta revision! I was afraid that the second half of the story would not be quite as epic as the first (yes, we're only about halfway through right now), but that will certainly not be the case! Plenty of twists, turns, and complications to come. Anyway, stay tuned!
[A/N Wednesday, December 19: I'm sorry to say chapter 08 might not be published on schedule. The story up to this point was a big undertaking to plot out, and it was a great relief to get it published, let me tell you; my masters design degree hasn't exactly been a walk in the park either. The end of chapter 07 is, in a sense, the end of Act I of the story, and Act II is in progress. The conclusion and a lot of the action leading up to the climax has been determined already, but it's this middle ground leading up to the action leading up to the climax which I am still working out. Don't worry, there is no threat of this story going on temporary or permanent hiatus; I just mean that it make take a couple extra weeks to get chapter 08 published in order to maintain the high standard of quality to which I hold myself. I wouldn't just leave you all hanging like that haha. I have been absolutely floored by the response to this story - 170+ reviews, 22,000+ views and 530+ followers? Incredible! So encouraging! - and I am dedicated to seeing it through to the end, because it will be as much a satisfaction to me as it is to you. Hang in there, guys and gals!]
As always, let me know what you think and what parts made you squee with delight or confusion/surprise so I know what to include more of in future chapters. General feedback and constructive criticism are also lovingly welcomed. As are your thoughts, theories and questions. More than once now, they have helped me identify plot holes before they even happen (for you)!
Until next time.
-hiimian