Author's Note: This chapter ended up concluding on a much sadder note than I originally intended. But at least Danny's emotional character arc is still progressing at a good rate relative to the intended length and content. In fact, given the trajectory of the plot as far as I can see it (keep in mind that I am still writing this blindly), I'd have to say this his emotional arc is progressing nicely, dare I say, beautifully. Guys, I'm actually really excited about this. Thanks for encouraging me to continue it. ^^

But there is still a lot for Danny to overcome. For those of you hating all the torment he's going through, I can only say that I'm right there with you on that. Despite what you have seen in my writing, I am actually not the type of writer who delights in torturing my characters. But what's a story of character growth without a lot of conflict, right? What's a story of character growth if that character isn't forced to traverse hell? I swear to you guys that Danny will pull out of this and will be much stronger by the end of it. I will personally see to that.

(after being) Disparaged

Out of bed, outside his door, cold sunlight lighting the hall.

Minutes and minutes.

She could see him through his door which was of course open, just as it was supposed to be, just as she had told him to keep it. Under his covers, on his side, his face hidden from her.

Most importantly, still there.

Usually, she would wake him, tell him to get ready for school and come down for breakfast when he was finished. Usually.

"Mom?" Jazz came out of her room dressed in a nightgown and slippers, her hair tangled and cowlicked.

Maddie turned to her with a smile. "If you happen to see Danny get up, can you tell him he can come down for breakfast if he wants?"

Jazz creased her brow, tilted her head. "Yeah, sure."

"But don't bother him if he doesn't get up," said Maddie. "Just let him sleep."

Jazz stumbled over her reply. "Okay."

Downstairs, Maddie wondered what she should make. French toast? She knew he liked French toast. But would he even come down? Would he even eat any of it? He didn't eat much at breakfast the morning before, didn't eat much at dinner. She had wanted so much to just chalk it up to him simply being in a poor mood after being scolded and lectured.

After last night, though—

"Morning!" Jack greeted her enthusiastically. He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. Maddie allowed him to kiss her but did not return it. He bounced to a seat at the table and turned on the morning news on their kitchen television.

Maddie watched her husband for a moment. He had no idea what had happened last night. The heaviest sleeper she knew, the episode with Danny did not wake him at all.

She knew she had to tell him, but would he just dismiss it? Or would he blame her for bothering their son in the middle of the night? She had only wanted to check that he had not left again, wanted to put her mind at ease. She had no idea that would happen.

That being…

She stopped thinking and tried to focus only on cooking. For now, turn it off, get breakfast on the table.

Jazz entered the kitchen with a warm greeting. Maddie returned the greeting, stopped herself from asking about Danny. If he was going to come, he would come.

Maddie set a plate of French toast down on the table. Jack eagerly helped himself.

"Where's Danny?" he asked cheerfully. "He loves French toast."

Maddie shrugged and forced a smile. "I'm sure he'll come down if he wants to."

Jack halted mid-bite, looked at her warily. "If he wants to?"

Maddie only nodded as she took her own seat.

No one spoke for several moments.

"Maddie?" asked Jack. "Something going on with Danny?"

Jazz was looking down and eating quietly. Maddie met Jack's gaze and said in a hushed voice, "I'll tell you when Jazz leaves for school, okay?"

"When Jazz leaves?" Jack looked at their daughter. "Any reason you didn't include Danny in that sentence?"

Maddie was about to say more when their son appeared in the entryway. Pale and looking as if he could fall over, but showered and fully dressed.

Maddie immediately stood. "Danny."

Danny raised his eyes. "Hey," he mumbled tiredly.

"Hey, Danny!" Jack excitedly held up his plate. "French toast! Come grab some."

Maddie watched Danny closely, watched his listless eyes close as he shook his head.

"I'm just gonna buy something at school," said Danny. "Something light. Maybe yogurt."

Maddie opened the fridge. "Oh, well, I think we have some here—"

"No, that's okay. Mom."

Maddie looked back at him in silence.

"Jazz, I'll be waiting in the living room." Danny left the kitchen, disappeared from sight.

Maddie stared after him, tears pricking at her eyes. Trying to keep him in sight, how could she get him to stay? How could she keep him from going too far?

She couldn't lose him. She had to bring him back.

Jack nudged her, spoke in almost a whisper. "Okay, seriously, what's going on with Danny?"

"I told you: I'll explain later when Jazz leaves."

"I'm going now," said Jazz quickly after shoveling a final forkful into her mouth. Maddie followed her out of the kitchen.

"Danny, wait," said Maddie, stopping him from joining Jazz as she headed to the front door.

Both teenagers paused as they waited for further instruction.

"Jazz, go ahead and go to school," said Maddie.

Jazz glanced at Danny, then at Maddie again. She did not move. "But I thought I was supposed to—?"

Maddie spoke to Danny but did not even try to touch him. "Danny, I want you to stay home from school today."

Danny's eyes widened. Surprise? Panic? Something else? "Why?"

"We need to talk." Maddie looked at him kindly. Jack entered the living room with a perplexed frown.

"I can't skip school. I've got homework to turn in, a quiz in history."

He was grasping for an excuse. Why oh why did he not want to talk to her? What was he keeping from her?

"It'll be fine," Maddie assured him. "I'll ask your teachers to excuse you."

Anxious eyes, trembling voice. "No, please. Please let me go to school."

There was nothing stopping him from just walking out the door. She was no longer stronger than him, hadn't been for some time, certainly couldn't physically force him to stay even if she wanted to.

And yet, he was begging her permission to go.

Maddie bowed her head, bit her lip, held back her tears. "Okay."

She didn't look up at him again as he wordlessly left and walked out the front door with Jazz. The door shut, and Maddie let her tears fall.

Jack rubbed her back. "Maddie," he said hesitantly, "what's going on?"

Maddie turned wet eyes to him.

-DP-

Jazz wanted to say something to him. Danny could feel it as he sat in the passenger seat of her car.

"What's on your mind?" he finally asked her.

"I think I should be asking you that," said Jazz softly.

Danny crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "I don't know what's on my mind anymore," he said in a shaky whisper. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

How could he have let this happen? How could he have let this go so far? What could he do to fix it? Why couldn't he get out of his own way and stop making things worse already?

And why wasn't this headache going away?

"There's nothing wrong with you," said Jazz. "What you're experiencing is normal."

Danny groaned.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I really wish you would see just how much this has affected you." Jazz paused. "Especially after what happened last night."

Last night—

The night before that—

Two nights in a row, two nights she had ambushed him, two nights he wanted to forget about.

But he wasn't about to talk about this, not with Jazz who would only insist on scrutinizing every angle of it and giving him advice. His eyes fell on her glove compartment, the pain in his head sharpening as if on cue. He reached toward it. "Jazz, do you mind if I take some of your ibuprofen?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."

Danny pulled his hand back at the urgency of her tone.

Jazz stared straight ahead. "Mom knows that you've been taking a lot of painkillers lately."

Danny was not surprised to hear this. After all, she had locked the medicine cabinet. But he was surprised that Jazz said this as if she had firsthand knowledge. "Did she tell you that?"

"Yes," admitted Jazz. "I tried telling her it was me, but I'm pretty sure she didn't buy it." She glanced at him. "But honestly, I had no idea that you've been taking so much."

"Well, I mean, just because I always beat the ghosts I fight doesn't mean I don't get beat up myself."

"I know, but you see what I was talking about last night? This isn't good for you. You shouldn't be taking so many painkillers, Danny. Do you have any idea what an overdose can do to you?"

"I'm careful. I didn't even take any last night."

"Only because you couldn't, right?"

Danny did not reply.

"Right? I saw the lock on the cabinet this morning."

"I could've phased through it."

"But you didn't because you knew Mom would notice. And the fact that you're not surprised means you already knew about the lock which means you tried to get into it last night."

Danny clenched his jaw, inhaled deeply and deliberately. As always, his genius sister just had to know everything, didn't she? As always, she was the smart one, and he was nothing but a damaged moron.

"Are you really in that much pain all the time?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Danny, just tell me, are you thinking about buying your own?"

"And just when would I buy my own, Jazz? I'm pretty much under house arrest."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Jazz, drop it."

"Danny, you can't just—"

"Yes, okay?" snapped Danny. "Yes, because I'm in pain all the time. What do you expect considering what I do? Are you seriously going to tell me that I have to just deal with the pain?"

"No, but you don't have to keep fighting, you know."

"So because it's my choice to fight, I'm not allowed to take anything for it?"

"Danny, stop twisting my words."

"Then you stop—" Danny cut himself off, breathed. His head was throbbing now, pushing behind his eyes. "I just really don't need this right now," he said with a hushed tremor.

Silence, agonizing and so heavy that it crushed his skull even more. In the student parking lot at last, Jazz turned to him, and Danny met her gaze.

"Danny, don't you think…I mean, maybe it's time you told her."

Hesitation. "I can't do that." The nightmares ran through his mind, everything he had seen his mother do to other ghosts, everything that he knew she wanted to do to Phantom, to him.

"It'll be okay." Jazz put a hand on his shoulder. "She loves you, Danny. And she's so worried about you."

He had seen her accept him before in an alternate timeline, remembered how she so warmly embraced his secret. But he had never seen beyond that initial moment of revelation, had no idea if she would've still tried to see what exactly he was later.

And now, after what had happened, he was more afraid than ever to find out for sure.

"Jazz." Danny put his hand over hers on his shoulder. "Please promise me that you won't make this decision for me. Please let me be the one to tell her."

Jazz lifted her armrest and leaned over the gear lever of her car, wrapped her arms around him. Danny made no movement himself, only took in the soothing contact of her embrace.

He glanced at her glove compartment. Glanced away.

At lunch, Danny sat with Tucker and Sam. Just like always. Just as usual.

No, not usual at all. Such distance despite being right next to them. Void and not at all present.

"Danny, you gonna eat that?" asked Tucker, pointing to the bag of chips that had come with his lunch.

Danny pushed the entirety of his uneaten meal toward Tucker. "You can have it all."

"Have you eaten at all today?" asked Sam with concern.

"I had a ton of French toast this morning." Why was he lying? Danny heard his words but could not stop them. It didn't even sound like his voice.

"My parents are making me wash all of our windows, inside and out. Mirrors, too," Sam was suddenly saying. "It's gonna take me all day."

Danny blinked, tried to focus. "Oh, you mean for…?"

"Yup." Sam smiled nonchalantly. "I'm also supposed to never hang out with you again, but do you have any idea how many times they've tried to tell me that? I told them it's not happening this time either."

How many times had they told her that?

"Your parents really don't like me, do they?" Danny spoke quietly, kept his eyes downcast.

Sam's mouth hung open for a moment in stunned silence. She frantically shook her head. "No, they like you just fine. Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay." Danny shrugged. "I'm just really sorry that you're being punished for something that you didn't even do." Arms on the table, hands clasped and shaking. "I shouldn't have done that to you."

"We're all in this together, Danny," said Sam gently. "Your trouble is ours, too."

Danny didn't say anything, overwhelmed by the unwavering loyalty of his friends. They seemed genuinely willing and even happy to help him 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. How long until they were just as trapped as he was?

Danny looked up at Sam. Such kindness, such sincerity, even after the way he had spoken to her just the day before. "Sam, thank you for everything. You really saved me yesterday when you told your mom that you tricked your security system."

"Well, it just sucks because now they're having a far more sophisticated one installed. We won't be able to use that excuse ever again."

"I'm still surprised that they didn't already have a more sophisticated one," said Tucker. "What's the point of having all that money if you don't spend it on the best technology?"

Sam and Tucker started joking and laughing. Silly asides, humorous anecdotes. But Danny couldn't laugh, could barely smile. Nothing was amusing to him. Nothing was enjoyable.

He could not even begin to explain the profundity of his emptiness.

What was it that used to fill this emptiness? What had he lost? What had been taken from him?

What had she taken from him?

It had only been a couple days, but he already could not remember, was so far removed that he could not recall what it was like to not feel this way.

And what had he done to deserve this? Was this a consequence he just had to accept for lying to his mother for so long, for carelessly entering her ghost portal when he knew he wasn't supposed to, for subjecting the people of his town to never-ending hauntings?

But he was already trying so hard to make up for that. He couldn't take back what he had done, could only try to fix it no matter how futile it seemed as the ghosts kept inexhaustibly returning.

And why couldn't she just see that? Why did she want to hurt him so much when he was just trying to make restitution for his mistake?

I can only assume you're behind it all.

I should just shoot you now, end your problematic existence.

You are not worth any more trouble.

Nonono he wasn't supposed to think about that was supposed to IGNORE

Because he was FINE and this was NOT a big deal and he was most certainly NOT—

don't say it

What happened last night, unable to breathe and gripped by such painful paranoia that it was almost surreal.

After that, could he really keep insisting that he was not—

DON'T

—¿pǝzıʇɐɯnɐɹʇ—

"Danny?"

He looked up to see Sam and Tucker gravely studying him.

"You okay?"

Simple question.

But still the hardest question he had ever had to answer.

He hugged his arms against him, hung his head, shut his eyes.

"No."

He couldn't deny it any longer, couldn't lie to even himself anymore.

"I'm not okay."

Shuddering, shivering. His friends were upon him instantly, on either side of him and reassuring him with words he could not understand.

He had to do something about this.

Because this wasn't fair and this wasn't right and he couldn't keep going on like this.

He had been almost killed. She had almost killed him. And not only was she punishing him for it, but he was letting her punish him for it.

If he didn't refill this emptiness, failed to reclaim this crucial part of him that had been stolen, then it would only be a matter of time until there was nothing of him left.

In Jazz's car at the end of the day, Danny didn't tell her about the conversation he had had with Sam and Tucker, didn't tell her what he had at last admitted to himself, didn't tell her that he had for once decided to take her advice.

He definitely didn't tell her that he had secretly phased into the glove compartment of her car during one of the passing periods, didn't tell her that he was sorry but that he only did it because there was no way he could do this with a headache that wasn't going away on its own.

Standing before the front door of their house, mentally readying himself because he knew he had to do it but dear God he was scared and he didn't actually want to but it was the only way and the longer he waited the worse this would get the worse he would get the worse his pain would get and she would understand she would see she would get it and would not try to hurt him would not try to kill him not this time oh God please don't kill him please just see that he was trying his best and that he was sorry for lying to her for so long and please just be okay let this be okay let him be okay again.

Breathe.

Go.

He opened the front door and stepped inside, fully expecting her to be waiting for him on the living room couch.

He stood alone in the empty room, puzzled.

Jazz joined him, also seemingly confused. "Mom? Dad?" she called out.

"We're in the basement," Maddie called from the lower level, her voice echoing through the open door. "How was school?"

"Fine," answered Jazz.

Maddie appeared at the top of the basement stairs, her jumpsuit hood up, her goggles on top of her head. "Do you have any plans tonight, Jazz? I mean, since it's Friday?"

Jazz furrowed her brow. "Um, no."

Maddie smiled. "Good, because we're going out to eat tonight." Her gaze fell on Danny. "So, Danny, if you have any homework, you should try to finish as much as possible right now, okay?"

Danny stared at her. He had been gearing up for hours to finally talk to her, and now she didn't want to?

She was gone, out of sight and back in the basement. Danny stood still for some time.

"Danny?"

He looked at his sister.

"Um…well…do you need any help with your homework?" She gave a small shrug of her shoulders.

"No," said Danny quietly. He looked back at the door leading to the basement. Should he go and initiate the talk himself? Did she not want to talk anymore? Or was this some sort of parenting ploy?

Something new was settling in him, an eerie apprehension that fluttered with uneven rhythm.

As he did his homework, he could hear the sounds of tools, the hums of machinery. His parents seemed to be hard at work as always. It was strange how normal it sounded. It should've been comforting, but his hands would not stop shaking as he typed and wrote and tried very hard to complete his own work.

For dinner, they went to one of his favorite restaurants, and Maddie was sitting as far from him as she possibly could've been. Jokes and stories, no restrictions on what they could order. Danny tried to clear his plate, tried to force everything down despite how bland it all tasted and how heavy it felt in his stomach.

Maddie caught his eye. Danny shrank away without thinking, looked down and avoided her. He realized what he had done and tried to look up again, but her attention was now on Jack.

The way she made him feel now, how even a look from her was enough to make him wince.

He hated this.

Back home, they all watched a movie together on the couch. Maddie was now seated next to Danny. In the blue light cast by their big screen, he could see her hand moving closer to him, just a little at a time.

Why had she decided to not try to talk to him tonight? What was going on in her head?

Her fingers graced his thigh. Arms crossed, Danny held his breath and put all of his effort into letting her touch him. He wanted to get up and run away, but he stayed, allowed her to affectionately squeeze his knee.

Danny turned his head to look at her. She smiled at him, raised her hand to stroke his hair. He mentally recoiled but physically forced himself to let her. He never wanted her to touch his hair again.

But he had always loved the way she would run her fingers through his hair, the way her nails so blissfully scratched at his scalp. Or the way she would rub his back, massage away his tension. Or the way she would hug him and let him know she was proud of him despite his many screw-ups.

She was one of the few people he had always felt safe with before.

As he looked at her now, he could feel pressure building behind his eyes and begging to spill out.

She put a hand on the far side of his face and pulled him close to her, kissed the top of his head. Danny shut his eyes. This gentle contact felt painful. Why did this hurt so much?

Every look from her reminded him of what he knew she wanted to do to him.

Every touch from her reminded him of just how much she hurt him.

But how would she feel if she knew? Could he really be so selfish to inflict that knowledge on her?

Because even after all that had happened, he still loved her.

He already suffered so much for the sake of the town. Perhaps he should just continue suffering for her sake, too.

(A slip noose hanging in my darkest dreams. I'm strangled by your haunted social scene, just a pawn outplayed by a dominating queen. - Elton John)