"Can u make a sequel part to Dearest Diary? Please?"
-Anon in a Review for Oneshots

I'm not linking back to the oneshot that started this. It's terribly embarrassing writing, I wrote it eight years ago, and it's one of my first of anything. But the request to continue it - why not, right?

READ THIS:
Synopsis of Dearest Diary: Apparently PP is canon. This fic is based on a diary entry where Vlad reveals he pit enemies against Danny "for his own good" and built him up for Amity, and made him allies from the shadows? I'm assuming my vague-ass descriptions implied Vlad knew he was obsessed with Danny and knew he was going to be consumed with it, so he decided it was safest to be Danny's enemy for when that when completely out of control. I implied Vlad orchestrated Danny's growth to give him allies and make Vlad a defeatable enemy. We are left with no information about Vlad besides his journal entry.

And at the end of that entry, which in one paragraph is alarmingly more interesting than the entire oneshot I wrote, I'm writing Danny finding and reading the journal. It shocked him a lot (gasp). I guess I'll continue from there.

The black book dropped from Danny's numb fingers and landed in the ashes with a thud. His hands shook, he had to press them to his chest to think clearly. His nose burned with the heavy remnants of smoke. "Danny?" Her voice was like a dull headache that spiked with each syllable. "Phantom!"

He did not move.

A shadow fell over him through the hole in the roof, the heat from the destroyed building turning into just warmth. Valerie, too smart to enter a building with black and crumbling pillars, hovered above him. "Phantom?"

Danny looked up. He recovered the journal from the floor and dusted it off, then held it aloft. "Ghost zone item," he explained, voice shaking, "perfect condition, see? Not even scorched."

"If that's another book of curses-"

Danny leapt into the air and hovered beside her. He tucked the journal into his jumpsuit. "It's not curses, Val. Come on. Am I that dumb to do that kind of a thing twice?"

Her flat expression told him exactly what Valerie thought. He rubbed his neck and didn't press it further. "Look, I checked the building. Nobody perished in the fire. Told you it was empty..." Val was already scanning her phone for the next incident, scrolling through what was doubtless a laundry list of complaints. "Mayor Sanchez's swans are loose." Valerie muttered, scrolling by the incident report. "You want to go visit an old fan? I think she's still president of your fanclub, actually."

Danny paled. "Phanclub." He corrected in a weak voice.

Val burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Seems like nothing else is going on." She scanned his chest where the indent of the journal was hidden. "So it's swans for us. Unless you're going to talk to me about what you found. Which, you know, since I kind of pay your salary and all…"

"It's just a notebook. Spectral. Whooo-oo." Danny waved his arms with the sound effects. "And I am on the clock, boss. So...swans."

She rolled her eyes. But they were partners, and lived on a strange kind of balance of trust. Valerie didn't push the buttons that didn't need to be pressed. It could lead to dangerous topics, like their personal lives. Phantom and the Red Huntress did not discuss their personal lives with each other. (Incidentally, Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray chatted all the time.)

Paulina Sanchez was the first mayor of Amity. The city council voted to change the city's name, and image, when she came into office. Paulina was not only instrumental in funding the ghost hunters of the city, setting up grants for call centers and local organizations that were dedicated to elite funeral services to put the dead to rest, she was also the very first mayor to open up the city's parks since they'd closed nearly twenty years. She was determined to turn her home into a nice place to live.

And she still, very unfortunately, never stopped flirting. Over time, that flirtation expanded to include both of the ghost hunters that landed on her lawn. Paulina marched over to them, her dress a mix of pink and white with a heart neckline and lace trim. She grinned at them. "You picked up the case! Oh thank goodness, I could not have put up with the Ghostkateers for another day. Dash is completely suffocating in a uniform."

"I thought you told him to join the city council."

Paulina waved her off. "He couldn't handle closed rooms. The trauma, you know?"

They both nodded. 'Trauma' was a vague term in Amity that very simply meant that ghosts had messed everything up and there were too many triggers to talk about it. Shockingly, the amount of PTSD diagnosed citizens with their exceptionally wide range of triggers, dramatically expanded the city's disability services. Amity was almost one of the best cities in the world to have a 'problems'. "Anyway." She smiled at both of them, and it reach her eyes, but she quickly became serious. "The swans have gone and - Danny I'm so sorry - the chief of police is here - "

"Oh god."

" - and he's up in arms about the call centers again. I can't have undead swans drifting through the hallways while we're at tea. You know how he is." Paulina pleaded.

Danny ran a hand through his hair. "I'll deal with the swans. You just….deal with the chief. And if he's still complaining about the centers ask him how much city damages have gone down since we started them."

Paulina responded with her politician's smile.

Valerie charged her ecto-destabilizer and nodded at Paulina. "Hey Phantom." Her hoverboard activated and she leapt into the air. "Bet I can get more swans than you."

"Bet you can't!"

They rounded up nine of ten swans, most of them easy to track with tracking rings around their feet, or their neck if a particular ghost swan lacked legs. Valerie victoriously walked beside Danny, despite not being able to phase through walls she bagged six swans to Danny's three. It wouldn't matter if he caught the last one. Danny and Valerie moved on foot through the gardens, Danny trying to sense a specific ectosignature while surrounded by a menagerie of ghost animals and Valerie inspecting the broken tracking chip of swan number ten, found at the entry to the garden.

"You'd think they'd learn that Hubert doesn't ever keep his tracking devices on." Valerie mumbled. "I swear he's the master swan who orchestrates all of their escapes."

"He's dumb and runs into walls." Danny replied offhand. "Sally is setting him up. We always find her in the fountain, pretending nothing's wrong, while dead swans wreak havoc all around her."

"No, Sally's a doll." Val chided. "Hubert is it. I'm sure of it. He's always digging into food, or harassing the living swans at Dale's Duck Pond, or…" She stopped in front of the remains of ripped up rose bush, petals and leaves scattered everywhere. "Or getting in fights with gardens."

Danny crouched in front of the rose bush. He sensed traces of an ectosignature, but it was scattered in with all of the other ghosts that lived around the mayor's mansion. Many animals, as well as their undead caretakers, and the occasional ghostly staff made it impossible to decipher what signature belonged to who. Danny sighed. "No dice."

Valerie's equipment was equally useless with all the clutter. "You're sure you're not just hoping he'll burst into the chief's tea and crumpets?"

Danny laughed. "There's always hope!"

She smirked and lifted the refined thin canister meant for small caliber ghosts, an educated version of the Fenton Thermos that Danny still carried on his back as a hallmark of his job. Though generally the Fenton Thermos actually was retired to carrying around actual lunch. "You know…" She switched the lever from catch to release. "We could make sure that happens without Hubert."

Danny's eyes glowed. Literally. "Val, if you weren't already married, I'd propose right now."

"I'd say no."

"Even in front of the swans?"

"Especially in front of the swans."

They were officially banned from the mayor's mansion.

Paulina gave a thorough dressing down in front of three city policemen and the chief himself. Danny got the majority of it, as Valerie - rightful winner of the caught-more-swans-contest - ran off to go recapture all of them. Paulina added, after banishing them, that of course their banishment was lifted for next week's meeting with the city planners, and if the Fentons would please come without their weapons drawn that would be lovely, and how was Jazz after all…

Danny navigated the very personal and probing conversation for another ten minutes. When he finally escaped, he faced the chief of police himself. He was at least two inches shorter than him and completely unimpressed with Mayor Sanchez's favoritism. "Phantom." He growled.

Danny rubbed his neck. "...Wes."

"That was funny. Very funny. Funniest thing I've ever seen." Wes Weston glared.

"Yeah. It was pretty great." He flushed green.

"Look, Fenton, I know you're defensive about the call centers-"

"Woah. Breach of protocol, chief." Danny raised up his hands. "It's Phantom. Be professional."

"Professional! You just released dead swans in a sun parlor!"

"Well it was professionally done..."

"That's not the point!" Wes snapped, fury boiling in his eyes. His frustration was very unfortunately, completely adorable. His cheeks got all red and his freckles stood out, and his slightly curled red hair stuck out from under his hat at odd angles, like he'd fallen asleep on it and never combed. "You don't get to attack people with guns just to get a laugh, just because you're in denial that the call centers interrupt police frequencies-"

"The ghosts get confused. We're very close to fixing the zone's end of the calls."

"-and clog up emergency lines! It's a huge risk!"

Danny nodded, fully aware of how many sleepless nights he'd spent on the problem as it was. "Sir," he forced the word. "With all due respect, it's interrupted your lines, like, three times. And you get a little more radio static. What's the big deal? The call centers are helping ghosts, who-"

"This city is more than just ghosts, Phantom." Wes shot. "There are people in danger over this. Living people! They take priority. They are my job. Stop interfering with my job."

"I had my job first. It's arguably more important. I did, kind of, you know, save the world."

Wes rolled his eyes. "Sure you did. No one else was involved. Absolutely did it by yourself, congratulations."

Danny paused. He was usually in the mood to argue with Wes, and could do it until Wes was blue in the face and out of oxygen and too tired to stand up. But when he thought about the world, and saving the world, he thought about the book tucked inside of his hazmat suit. The cleanly made, hand-stitched pocket made out of thick, armor-like fabric that could only be manufactured in the ghost zone itched in a way that wouldn't be satisfied. Danny touched his chest, feeling the rimmed edge of the book inside of that pocket.

"...Fenton?"

He jumped. Wes looked him over, then rolled his eyes. "Nevermind. I'm not having this conversation." The chief of police stormed off, gathering his officers from the foyer and leaving without so much as pausing to wave goodbye to the mayor.

Paulina wasn't paying attention anyway. She sat on the staircase in the front of the house, a place that was both a fortress and a refuge for all kinds of people and creatures, from ghosts to humans, anyone displaced without a home. Her hair was up and she leaned on Valerie's shoulder, talking no doubt about her latest bout with the city council. Valerie, her helmet removed, nodded as she talked. They made eye contact from across the room and Val waved him off. He nodded and, figuring Valerie already caught all the swans or would catch all the swans, left.

The sun dipped below the horizon as Danny got to Fentonworks. His parents left the living room light on for him while they worked in the lab. He could hear them chatting downstairs. He entered the kitchen, human, and stopped to wash his hands before opening the ecto-proof fridge to start fixing dinner. A drawer in the fridge didn't fit the rest; it was a huge block of chrome locked with a combination keypad inside a heavy metal safe. The drawer was labeled Danny. He ignored it to make his parents dinner first. A vegetable stir-fry, with lean chicken mixed in. He cooked with a light layer of olive oil, stashed all four salt shakers on the highest shelves, and seasoned with ancho peppers and garlic.

The smell brought Maddie and Jack upstairs by the time Danny arranged their meals onto plates. Maddie entered the kitchen first, removed her gloves and hooked them in her belt. At Danny's look, she stopped to wash her hands. Jack joined her. When dry, she walked over and kissed Danny on the cheek, "You're too sweet for us. Only two plates?"

Danny shrugged. "I, uh…" He glanced at the fridge.

"Already?"

"It's been two weeks." Danny shuffled his feet. "And I've been pretty active, so."

"You're not going to eat with us?" Jack sat down and prodded his broccoli with a fork, generally suspicious of it.

"I'll sit with you."

Danny sat across from his parents and tapped the table, glancing out the window. He wondered what he should say to them. Was there anything left to say? "Danno." Jack pointed his fork (speared with broccoli) at him, "Wasn't it you who banned ghost contaminants from the dinner table?"

Danny blinked. The journal, glowing very faintly, sat on the corner of the table where he'd left it to free up his hands for cooking. Danny snatched it up and immediately put it in his lap. "Sorry, it's...I have a question."

They waited. Maddie cut up her vegetables into smaller vegetables. "It's about Vlad."

Jack paused mid-bite; Maddie stopped cutting. They exchanged glances, in the space of a moment growing tense. "What about him?" Maddie asked, her voice carefully level and eyes like flint. This was not a topic generally allowed at the dinner table.

Danny dropped his eyes and just shrugged. He wished he had food to push around a plate while he thought of what to say. "Do you think he ever tried? Like, if he knew he was going to go bat-crazy insane, do you think he tried to set precautions in place so that we could...handle it?"

Jack made a thoughtful expression and Maddie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "He's not the type."

"Why not?"

"The man was a lot of things, but suicidal is not one of them." Maddie replied tersely, stabbing her cauliflower.

"He's not dead, mom."

She pressed her lips together. The canister downstairs that contained the fragmented, destabilized mess which made up the remains of Vlad Plasmius was about as dead as any ghost could possibly get. "Danny." She said evenly. "I know that the call centers have given you a lot of hope for the ghosts that are more...volatile. I know that it's made you see a lot of them from a different light." Danny very much considered it the other way around, but he let her go on. "I know it makes you think you can help all of them."

"Mom,"

"No, no," She held up her hand. "You relinquished his remains to us. That means we decide what happens with them. You're not going to suggest-"

"I'm not suggesting we stabilize him!"

"-you are! This is the same thing as it was with subject 246-1, Danny, and I won't-"

"Walker." Danny corrected.

"-have you rehabilitating something completely hopeless! It's not rehabilitation, it's you putting your home and your family and your city in danger." Maddie inhaled, gaining control of herself. "Ghost obsession cannot be erased, Danny."

Danny soured. He got to his feet and pushed in his chair. "Yeah, I know, mom." He shuffled over to the fridge and punched in a combination to the drawer with his name neatly engraved across it. The containment unit produced a touchpad that Danny pressed his thumb down on. It beeped. "I just wanted to talk about the possibility that he tried to make it easier for us, that's all."

"Why?"

"Because it wouldn't make him very different from me!" Danny yanked a glowing tupperware from the drawer and shut it, listening to the lock slide into place before turning around. "I'm not going to go crazy in a day, am I? But I am going to get there." He waved the tupperware container. "I used to only have to eat this every six months." His parents stilled in the way they did when listening to what they didn't want to hear. "I'm deteriorating," Danny said, unafraid of it, "and we know my transition to full-dead is probably going to go badly. All we're doing is stalling it, instead of putting...precautions down. We need to do more."

He put the journal in front of them, breaking his own rule about artifacts at dinner, and flipped it open. Vlad's journal of his descent into madness lay before them. "We have data to start with. He at least left us enough to inspire a plan."

No pressure to review. I didn't put much effort down, and wrote this to get my juices flowing for some other work.

-Carrie