"You don't have to do this," Jazz insists, fidgeting with the end of her ponytail.

I roll my eyes. "And what, just be gone forever?" I look at the obnoxious building that hadn't changed a single bit in a full year. "Besides. I miss them."

"Okay. Yeah, I mean, of course. You remember the cover story, though, right?"

I smirk at her. "I did come up with it, didn't I?"

Side by side, we climb the steps and approach the door. I feel weird opening it, like I should knock or something. But I don't, and with two more steps, I'm back in my house.

"Mom, Dad!" Jazz calls. "Where are you guys?"

"Living room," comes the reply from my mom.

"Living room?" I ask her softly.

She shrugs. "They have a weird grieving pattern. They're in the stage where they sit in the living room toying with something and being melancholy. And weird. Did I mention their weirdness?"

"Who are you talking to, Jazzy?" my dad calls.

Jazz grabs my hand and pulls me forward. "Come on. Let's do this."

My feet suddenly feel like lead weights.

Mom is reading in an armchair, and dad is on the couch, sewing. Like a weirdo. "Mom, Dad, I'm talking to Danny."

They both jerk their eyes up, searching Jazz before landing on me.

I've never seen my parents so speechless. There's an awkward moment where I realize my hand is still in Jazz's and pull out of it, briefly looking down to make sure she's not still touching me. When I look back up, there are tears in my mom's eyes.

"Danny-boy?" my dad asks in almost a trance. Then he jumps to his feet. "Danny!" In one bound, he's closed the distance between us, and before I can protest he pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

I wheeze, trying to simultaneously return the hug and shift so I can breathe. "Dad!"

"We looked for you everywhere, my boy! We even filed with the police, even though we all know they don't do anything-"

"That's great Dad, but-"

Okay, seriously? Can't breathe.

"Jazzy made us stop going on searches because-"

"Ja~ck?" my mom chides in that singsong voice.

"Maddie! Look, it's Danny!" He swings me around to show her.

"I know, honey. I see. But I think he can't breathe."

My dad blinks, then looks down at me. "Oh." He drops me, and I stumble, sucking in a breath. Then he slaps me on the back, like he can dislodge my breathing problem. I stumble again with another gasp.

"Dad!" Jazz protests.

"I'm fine," I assure my family, waving my hand. I regain my balance and stand straighter, coming face to face with my mom. I open my mouth to explain, or greet her, but she hugs me faster than I can speak.

Her hug is gentler but no less intense. Surprised, I tense, but then return the hug.

"Mom-"

She jerks back at the sound of my voice, suddenly furious. "You have a lot of explaining to do, young man. You worried your father and I sick, to put it lightly. We thought the worse! And so did the Mansons, worrying about Sam. So start talking." She glares at me, and for a second my excuses fail me. "Well?"

"I-" I shake my head, then give a little laugh. It turns into a laughing fit, and I'm reduced to unintelligible giggles. My mom's frown deepens, unimpressed.

"Danny?" my dad asks, confused.

My sister puts a hand on my shoulder, worried. "Danny, what's up?"

I wave off her hand, straightening from my bent position and forcing the giggles down. "I'm- HA, sorry, I'm sorry, it's not funny, none of this is funny, I just- Haha… It's so good to see you guys again!"

My dad beams and my mom relents a tiny smile, but still looks angry.

"Do you remember the portal accident when I was fourteen?"

Surprised, they agreed.

"Well… I didn't just get hurt. Something happened in that portal with the electricity and the ectoplasm, and I got… well, ghost powers."

They blink in confusion. I continue the story of Danny Phantom before I can lose my nerve, knowing I couldn't do it if I dwelled on their reaction.

Jazz didn't want me to tell them. She kept it from them the entire time I was gone, knowing it'd probably hurt them to know. There's no proof, for one, and Jazz pointed out that they hated Phantom and would probably be horribly guilty for the way they treated him. Plus, they'd be mad at her for the secret she kept.

But I insisted that they needed to know.

At least about Phantom.

"So… yeah."

I rub my neck, suddenly feeling hot under my parents' soundless stares.

"Guys?"

Jazz gives an "I told you" huff, folding her arms.

My mom blinks. "I'm sorry, sweetie. This is just a lot to take in in five minutes." She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Why did you keep this from us?"

I don't answer. They answer that for themselves.

"Danny Phantom…" My dad trails off. "Of course he'd be you, son! He's a hero!" He smiles, seemingly bursting with pride. I'm taken aback at the sudden emotion. "You're a hero, Danny! Maddie and I were foolish to believe otherwise, even if we didn't know you were him."

Okay, one down. One to go.

"I don't understand… Why does that explain why you were gone?" my mom asks. My heart plummets. What if she doesn't… If she doesn't accept my other half, she and my dad could get divorced and…

"The Guys in White," Jazz answers for me. "They took him."

"Yeah," I continue, still freaking out inside. "Sam and I were out taking care of a ghost, and they jumped us. We escaped, though, but in our final battle, they had a psychic ghost that scrambled our heads. We still managed to get away, but we didn't know each other, so we kinda went separate ways. I don't know where she is… a group of heroes found me because I guess I was in Central City… I'm not sure. My head was all messed up and I don't remember almost any of it. But they helped fix my head.

"I was still an amnesiac. I stayed with them until my memories were triggered. Then I sought out Jazz first, because I didn't know if you guys would accept my ghost form… And Jazz helped me turn back and now… Here we are."

I rock back on my heels, feeling awkward again.

"How long were you with the heroes?" my mom asks.

"All of it except a few scrambled days." I keep the time to a strict minimum. Don't need them worrying the worst about missing weeks or months. And yeah, this is my cover story. They never get to know what happened to me in that facility. Jazz and Tucker is already too bad.

My dad sings their praises for a minute, but my mom is still silent.

"I'm sorry if this is too much. I know you guys hate ghosts and if you want I can stay with the heroes, but I knew I had to at least tell you what had happened, but I understand if-" I pause, looking at the ground. "If this is too much." I stare at the ground before peeking up at my mom to see her reaction.

"There will be no. Such. Thing." My mom's voice is final. "You are no less my son. In fact, it may make you more my son. You are a ghost hunter. A hero, like your father said. Don't ever think I won't be able to take what you can dish out." She closes the distance and wraps me in another hug. "You're my son. No matter what species you happen to pick up."

I laugh and return her hug. My dad gives us a dwarfing hug, pulling Jazz into it against her weak protests.

The rest is a little too sappy to tell.

"How'd parents go?" Robin chirps from the high wire. He's walking on his hands, his body bent in a curve to maintain balance. I was training, but decided to watch Robin put on a brilliant acrobatic show.

"Clingy," I respond, "But nice. Really, really nice."

"Yeah, I'd imagine," he chuckles. His legs flip forward and he lands on his feet, one in front of the other. The rope sways and shakes, but Robin tilts his weight to compensate. He doesn't even raise his arms. It's very impressive.

"Do a flip!"

Without hesitation, he flips back on his hands and lands back on his feet, but he holds onto the cable, staying in a crouch. I almost boo, but he jumps, swinging his legs around the cable and back into the air. He jerks his legs higher, shifting his hands so he can handstand on the cable.

It dips and sways too much, though, and he swings back down.

"Cool," I say, putting my hands on my hips.

He glares. "Shut up. I'm amazing."

"I wasn't arguing."

He looks unconvinced. Then, he drops his hands and falls to the floor, landing in a crouch. I clap enthusiastically.

"Yeah, yeah. It's your turn."

He straightens and folds his arms with a smirk. I raise and eyebrow. "Yeah, that's simply not even possible."

"First, yes it is." He wags his finger at me. "You can morph your body. Second, that's not what I meant." He walks over to the training supplies and starts rummaging through it. "You do have to strength train in your human form, but in your ghost-" He comes out with a large high tech gun. "It's all power."

"Are you going to shoot me?" I ask curiously. "That'd be fun."

He laughs. "Actually, yeah. I'll shoot at you, and your job is to freeze the blasts and then blast them with ectoplasm."

I furrow my brows, wary of the way he holds the gun; excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, lazy smile. "Um… What's that going to do?"

"All kinds of things! Reaction time, hand-eye coordination, reflexes. I want to see what's luck and what's skill."

"Well, luck is pretty much my best super power, so-"

He squeezes off several shots before I can finish talking. My reaction is to immediately throw up a shield or go intangible, but I linger in indecision about shooting them or not and lose my chance to do anything.

There are four shots on my torso, one on my shoulder and one on my leg. The majority miss, but those that do hit me feel like hard baseballs. I manage not to fall over, though, so. That's a plus.

"Ouch!" I whine. "I'm going to have bruises for a week!" I massage my shoulder, even though my pride is more injured than the blow.

Robin gives me a disappointed frown. "What was that? Where were your high-tuned reflexes from years of hero fighting?"

I narrow my eyes, letting my arms drop to my sides. "I haven't done it for a year."

He looks thoughtful. "No, I don't think that's it. Reflexes honed like that don't just go away. I saw you react in like three different ways before the shots hit you."

"Then what do you think it is?"

"I think you're too comfortable with me." His mouth twists in concentration. "You don't expect me to hurt you. But you should prepare for any possibility."

I groan. "I know…"

"Danny."

I refocus on him.

"It's pretty clear that you're powerful. But you're not trained. Your style is all street and no discipline. Your attacks are imaginative but unfocused. You aren't physically fit despite your strength and you have no realm of understanding of how your physiology works."

I tilt my head. "So I suck?"

"Pretty much." He smirks. "You're like Superboy when he first started. All power, no technique."

I fold my arms. "Rude."

"And don't get me started on your endurance. How long can you go, actually?"

"Long enough."

"To do what?" His smile drops again, and he looks serious. "Fight how many different enemies at once? We're getting deeper into this plot and they're getting better at defending themselves from you."

"That's why we have the team."

"Stop giving yourself the easy way out! If you really want to be a hero, Danny, you have to focus. You have to train. Be better than your enemies. Outsmart them every single time. Have backups and contingencies. Otherwise, you'll fail, and you'll get caught again!"

"I won't-"

"You will!"

I stop floating, drop my feet on the ground. My face feels hot. I'm so angry my ice core feels like fire. I'm so angry at Robin for having the audacity of saying these things, and even more angry that he's right. And that it only took a few comments.

"Fine," I bite out, "Shoot me."

Robin nods once, then lets out another barrage of shots. My ice pulses into a wave, freezing them solid and pushing their momentum to a stop. They clash to the ground. Robin reminds me to destroy them as well, not finishing his sentence before releasing more shots.

After I start destroying and freezing, he's constant, shooting me in every direction, even a few wide shots that I purposefully ignore. He sucks at shooting.

Still, they get too far apart for me to simply pulse into ice, so I'm forced to create smaller and more intense rays to pick them off. After a while, I start to crack in concentration, and the attacks only grow more intense. I'm starting to get exhausted from the mental concentration of destroying the blasts and the pain of getting knocked down when I don't.

Finally deciding I'm finished, I turn intangible, letting all the shots go through me.

"Keep going."

"I'm good," I pant, glaring at him.

"Then stop me."

He looks fully ready to fight me to the teeth for the gun, but I'm simply too drained for a Robin on Phantom fight. I launch at him intangibly.

He darts back, light on his feet. Okay. Smart. He knows he can't touch me, so he'll have to evade me.

I just need to be faster. I make a fast grab for the gun, but again he parries out of reach, putting space between us.

For a second, I debate, floating in the air and staring at Robin, who's now at least twenty feet from me.

He shoots, and I ignore it, because I'm intangible, only to realize too late that I'd dropped it when I figured it wouldn't work. I'm pelted back a few feet.

"See," Robin deadpans, gesturing with the gun, "you're way too comfortable around me."

I growl and turn invisible. To my surprise, all Robin does is relax. I launch forward, aiming my hands for the gun, but in a fluid motion, Robin ducks into a somersault, completely avoiding me. I go sprawling into the open air.

Charging my hands, I opt to simply shoot him the way he's been shooting me. My energy's too depleted for a strong blast, anyway, so he'll be fine.

He stands in a relaxed pose, and I aim carefully for his hands before letting the shot fly. At almost Wally speeds, he's out of the way of the blast.

"How'd you do that?" I demand. His pose tightens and he lets off two deadly accurate shots to the center of my body. I quickly turn intangible.

He distances himself again. "You're honestly asking me if I saw the neon green balls of energy hurling towards me?" I make another weak attempt to snatch the gun via a dive in my flight, but again, he parries. "I can hear you, Danny."

"I'm a ghost. How can you possibly hear me?"

"You breathe, even though I doubt you need to. You talk. You aren't intangible, so the air rushes around you. And…" He pauses for a minute. "You… crackle."

"I crackle?"

"Yeah. Like a TV. Kind of. I don't know, it's really subtle. It gets louder when you charge up your ectoblasts."

"Like electricity?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know how I died?" I ask pretty suddenly. Even though dying is pretty commonplace with my friends and we joke around about it, I don't think people outside of our friend group think of it as something to make fun of. Robin doesn't strike me as the person to make inconsiderate jokes.

Okay, maybe that's exactly the kind of person he strikes me as. But not about this.

He shakes his head.

I do a quick freezing blast at the gun in his hand while I have his attention, and he looks at the gun with an unimpressed look before dropping it. It cracks on impact.

"My parents are ghost hunters."

"Uh-huh." He folds his arms, waiting for the rest of the story.

"They made this portal. It didn't work."

"Okay."

"They're brilliant. Just a little…" I search for the right word. "Absent, sometimes."

"Sure."

"Stop that, or you don't get to hear the rest."

"Fine."

I glare at him and he fights a smile. Finally, when he wrests it under control, I continue my really-ironic-and-funny-but-actually-really-depressing tale of how I learned to be both dead and alive.

"They plugged it in and it didn't work. But it did. They just needed to turn it on. Course, they didn't know how to do that because they didn't think they put in anything like that. They did, though. It was just on the inside."

Robin bites his bottom lip to keep from saying anything, his smile threatening to come out.

"So I went in. And I pressed it."

"Why?"

"I was feeling along the wall! It was dark and I couldn't see."

"Okay… So what happened after you pressed the button?"

"The portal turned on." I raise an eyebrow. "Portals use an astronomical amount of electricity. That, coupled with the amounts of ectoplasm flowing out of the opening Ghost Zone, is what turned me into what I was. The electricity should've killed me, but…" I change tactics, trying to explain what happened that day. "The ectoplasm made me another form, which anchored my soul. But my human body wasn't dead yet. Two bodies and one soul, and they just kind of… fused."

"So you didn't actually die?"

"I felt like I did. Everything was just pain. For a second, I could see the entirety of both dimensions. I don't remember any of the specific details, just their enormity and the way they balanced each other out. And… I don't know. I just kind of balanced. That certainly didn't happen peacefully." I give a tight grin. "So, yeah. I woke up dead. Freaked the heck out, but then I passed out and turned human. Spent a couple weeks in the hospital. My sides were still trying to figure out how to work with each other."

His humor is gone, and he just looks sad. "Your parents' invention?"

I nod. "Yeah."

He puts a hand on my shoulder, and despite the strangeness of the gesture, I accept it with a small favor.

"CRAP!" We both jerk to the sound of the voice, where Zatanna stands in her civilian clothes-tank top and jeans-with her face a mix of horror and humor. "WALLY! YOU WERE RIGHT! MY BOYFRIEND IS GAY!"

"Crap," Robin mutters, watching her run out.

"Don't worry bro," I laugh unsympathetically. "I know a guy who knows where to get you some cats for when you die alone."

He gives me a horrified look and darts back to where Zatanna ran off.