O.O

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Okay, I know, this is REALLY REALLY late. I'm very sorry. I was busy last week, and I had to go home for a family thing for the weekend, so I needed to bunch up all the stuff I had to do inside a few days. But now I'm back, and have had time to let inspiration settle upon me once again. So here is chapter 8. I'll have two more up by Saturday, hands down. I swear. This is a slow week for me, so I'll have plenty of time. May my prayers ward off Writer's Block. I'm already on thin ice over this one! 8S

Much love to all reviewers (and please don't hate me for the delay!): hermie-the-frog, Meagainsttheworld, Epona Harper, cordia, acosta parez jose ramiro, Pieling, The Fluff Ghost, Egyptian Ghost Kitty, Diamond Raider, BratCat, AirGirl Phantom, Unrealistic, xheartkreuzx, BarnOwl93, A Marked Propensity, Queen S of Randomness 016, Sasia93, egyptianqueen777, Tornada Silverwind, DP fan, Chaos Dragon, nathow111, bluename, The Only On3, and TaylorTheWeird. Thank you!

Here's chappie 8 (at last). This one has minimal suggested action, but sets up for all the fun stuff that starts happening in chapter 9. That one should be out on Thursday.

Also, anyone on here that is of the voting persuasion...VOTE!!! Democracy only works if we all do our part. Besides, obscenely long lines can be fun! ;)

Cheers,

HiddenAuthor

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Chapter 8 – Identities

Valerie was still staring into her pillow when Danny knocked on her bedroom window. Snapping out of her funk, the huntress turned to favor the floating trespasser with a tired glare.

"Val, can I come in?" The muffled words lacked the usual cocky tones Phantom was known for. Valerie looked out at the ghost boy for a good minute. Finally, she shrugged, turning away.

"Um, aren't you going to open the window?" Came a second question.

"You're a ghost." She said dully. "Just come on through." From behind her came a brief flash of silver light, and Danny Fenton walked around her bed to sit on the floor. He didn't say anything.

"Well? What do you want?" Val asked acidly. Danny sat still, not moving. "Hurry up, ghost, I don't have all day."

"Please don't call me that." Danny said finally. "I have a name."

"Fine." She said coldly. "What do you want, Phantom?" This last finally drew a wince from the boy on the floor. "If you just came here to sit on my floor, you can just float off."

"Why do you hate me so much?" He asked, meeting her gaze. "I've never tried to hurt you. I care about you. I try to help people."

"You lied to me! You manipulated me!" The girl exploded. "For a long time. You've said yourself that you're not human, and I told you how I feel about ghosts. You still kept pushing me. I respect you and admire what you do, Phantom. But you're dead!"

"I'm not dead. I told you that! I'm not a ghost!"

"Than what?" She asked in exasperation. "You can't have it both ways! Ghosts are dead! You can't be a living ghost. And humans can't do what you do! If you aren't a human, and you aren't a ghost, what are you?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Val's light bulb exploded, and several of her small knick-knacks floated up off the dresser and fell back down with a clatter. The room temperature plummeted. "Why should it matter, anyway? You liked me as Fenton, and you respected me as Phantom. You said yourself I act the same both ways. You like who I am, Val. Why does what I am matter so much?" Frost spread across the windowpanes, and larger and larger objects started leaving the floor. A shiver from the girl on the bed brought Danny back down to earth. Looking around, the ghost boy's eyes widened slightly.

"I gotta go." He said, and vanished instantly. The room began warming immediately, and all of Val's things became reacquainted with the floor. The huntress sat back on her bed, looking at the spot Danny had been. The boy's words echoed in her mind.

'Why does what I am matter so much?'

But along with that came another voice.

'I know from experience how horrible Daniel's anger can be.'

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Jazz pulled up in front of her house and looked in the back seat with dismay. It was only natural that she sign up for the most challenging courses Casper could throw at her, but the amount of homework she'd been given for this weekend was ridiculous. Grunting from the effort, the overwhelmed girl hefted the cardboard box filled with textbooks, notebooks, notepaper, note cards, and a scale model of the human brain. Swaying a bit on her feet, she tottered towards the door. Just managing to catch the knob, Jazz pushed the door open and lurched into the downstairs hall.

"Hey Jazz."

"Whoa!" Turning just a bit too fast to see where the voice came from, Jazz found her self violently introduced to the floor. Books spilled everywhere.

"Danny!" She shouted in exasperation, shoving books randomly back into her box and looking around for her soon to be entirely dead little brother.

"Up here." Eyebrows raised, Jazz turned her gaze up towards the ceiling. Danny was standing upside down by the ceiling light, sweeping crumbs into a pile.

"Mom's floating cookies." He explained. "The crumbs are all over the place up here. I just finished some tests with mom and dad downstairs, and they sent me up here to cool off."

"Tests?" Danny sighed, and kept sweeping.

"I went to see Valerie after I got out of school. Tucker tried, too, but she wasn't answering her door. So I snuck around and tried her bedroom window. She asked me what I am, and since I don't know for sure myself, I…lost it a little. I didn't say anything I regret, but my powers sort of got away from me. As soon as I saw, I took off back here before I did anything serious. Mom and Dad wanted to test me to make sure it wasn't another power thing like in September."

"Is it?" Jazz asked, trying her best to sound nonchalant as she picked up more of her stuff.

He chuckled hollowly. "It's not. No jumps from my last reading, which means I'm still a perfectly normal and healthy genetic mutant, not one of those creepy unhealthy ones." Pile of crumbs complete, Danny gave it a negligent wave and teleported it outside. A second wave sent Jazz's books up to her room.

"You couldn't do that before I was almost done picking them up?" Danny gave a small smile as he did a summersault in midair and landed on the floor beside his sister.

"I could have," he confessed, "but then you wouldn't have had an excuse to stay down here and talk to me. This seemed easier." Jazz smiled and shook her head. Her brother was no math genius, but he was pretty good at reading people.

"So do you think Val will come around?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

"Well you freaking out, even by accident, probably didn't help." She said as they climbed the stairs. "But I think she'll make up her own mind. No matter what anybody else says about you, she'll decide based on what she knows. And since you do so much good, I can't see how she'd decide to hate you." Pausing on the stairs, Jazz turned towards her brother questioningly. "Why did you freak out, anyway? I thought you'd worked out the 'what am I?' questions with mom and dad." Danny grimaced.

"I did." He said evenly. "I told you guys everything that's going on right now."

"Is it the stress?"

"No. There's something I didn't tell you. When I saw the Ghost Council, they talked about me. Or about my 'kind', or whatever. The ghosts are scared of me, too. I guess it just freaked me out a little."

"Tell me everything."

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Damon watched with a carefully stilled face as his daughter traded blasts with a large snake ghost, one of those random spirits that visited too infrequently or wasn't intelligent enough to merit a name. With a surge of inner effort, he forced himself to turn away from the large viewing window to favor the formally dressed gentleman visitor with a neutral expression. This was made doubly hard by the mayor's presence. Mr. Montez was supposed to be impartial, but the opportunistic little man was obviously already in this guest's pocket…or pocket book, as the case may be.

"Really, Damon, I don't see why you have a problem with this." A part of Mr. Gray wanted very much to hit the annoying little man. Yes, Montez had been the one to officially commission the new defense division and given him his new job. But over the last few months, as costs rose steadily higher, Montez had begun calling incessantly, trying to scrounge up tidbits to further his political ambitions. Bare facts, the little money Damon did get wasn't creating the showy security propaganda the mayor had hoped for.

"I am confused myself, Mr. Gray." Supplied the gentleman. He still hadn't given a name, and Montez hadn't asked. If anything, that made Damon more uncomfortable. "My…associates are prepared to offer all necessary materials and manpower to complete your multi-tower shielding system inside this month. We've even improved upon your original designs both for the individual security and power supply infrastructure. These changes would cost the citizens of Amity Park millions, but we'll foot the bill if you'll only turn over the construction to us. You can maintain full authority and head the division. We just want to help."

"Help?" Damon asked, eyebrow kicking up. "I'll say you want to help. But you expect me to believe after investing tens of millions of dollars, plus countless more for your improvements and rush job, that you don't want anything back? I've heard some political crap in my day, whoever you are, but that's just insulting."

"Damon!" Montez admonished. "That's no way to treat a guest in your own headquarters." The mayor leaned in close. "Besides, this is just the kind of break we've been waiting for." He whispered fervently. "You need more money and help for your division, I need the bean counters in finance off my back, and we both need this project to succeed if we want to keep our jobs. Who's losing out here?"

"Are you kidding?" Damon hissed back. "They might not be up front about it, but they want something. Nobody does this kind of work for charity, and the fact that they're not saying what they want just makes me more nervous."

"Tough." The mayor answered. "I'm not about to turn down an offer like this. What could I do, tell the people I'm spending their tax dollars for the next ten years on this thing when I could have had it up and running by month's end at no cost? Forget being fired, I'd be lucky to make it out of town in one piece! You can either go along with it or resign so I can replace you with someone who will." Montez flashed a sly grin. "And if you leave, you won't to watch them for whatever you think they're trying to do."

Gray favored his boss with a venomous glare for a moment before turning to regard his unwanted partner. He seemed to be cleaning his ear, blissfully unaware of the silent exchange that just happened right in front of him. Only the smug look on his face betrayed the act for what it was.

"Fine. Welcome to the Anti-Ghost Security Division. But I want to be clear right now that I don't trust you, I'll be double and triple checking everything you do to my towers, and I'll be cosigning every check, every form, and every slip that passes under your nose. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." The man said calmly. "I'm sure in time you and your fair city will thank us for our contributions."

"And where is the money coming from, exactly? Who are you representing? Considering the dangerous military nature of my work, I think it's obvious that I'd want to know who's paying for all of this."

"I regret that my…employers must remain secret. It is one of the conditions of our support. Your mayor already signed the contract; this meeting is more of a formality. I'm sure you wouldn't begrudge us a few secrets. I'll be perfectly transparent with regards to my work here, of course." Damon scowled slightly and resolved to campaign against Montez as soon as he didn't need his support. The man was an idiot.

"Fine. But I'll hear your name right now. I have to call you something." The gentleman was silent for some time.

"You can call me Smith. I trust that will be agreeable." Mr. 'Smith' started out the door, Montez trailing close behind like an attention-starved puppy. "Now if you don't mind, I have several calls to make, to set things in motion. We have a lot of work to do, and only two weeks to do it."

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Saturday dawned cold and wet, with fog and a light drizzle ruining any outdoor plans. But that was okay, Jazz wasn't planning on going out today. She was going to head downstairs, grab a hot cup of tea, and start on her new case study. On her way down the hall, she discretely stuck her head into Danny's room, and shook her head when it became apparent that he wasn't inside. Bed empty, ceiling empty, covers down to throw out accidental invisibility, and he wasn't on the floor under the mattress. Sighing, she headed downstairs.

The older girl wasn't that surprised. Danny had probably spent the night decorating. The two siblings had had a talk about Ember's advice, and Jazz was anxious to meet this ghost. She seemed to relate to Danny in a way a human couldn't, and Jazz, for all her psychological backing, knew that her brother needed more than her to cope with his problems. No matter how much she knew, or how much she cared, her brother was fundamentally different from, well, everyone. It was a tough problem. She couldn't even begin to understand how lonely he must be, or just how fear from both sides of who he was might be affecting his self image. And what about his ghost powers? If all of the tests and information she had was correct, Danny would eventually be able to move the metaphorical mountains at will. Or maybe even the real mountains. Nobody knew, and there was no psychological precedent for how to nurture a fragile and still-developing psyche that was burdened with that kind of power. On one side, he might come to hate himself, and on the other, he might go mad with power and become irreparably insane. Keeping him on the narrow tightrope in between was a tough job, and Jazz just couldn't do it on her own anymore.

But there was the other problem, she thought as she sipped her tea. She was the only remotely qualified person Danny could trust to help him. At least until his secret became public, which nobody was ready for, least of all Danny. Jazz had been working herself to the bone trying to figure him out, and the cruel truth was that her findings might never be made public. How could they without blowing the whistle on his secret? With a sad smile, Jazz set down her mug and flipped open a simple large-ruled notebook.

'Psychological Impact of Excessively Above-Average Personal Power on Developing Adolescent Psyche.

Jazz Fenton

(No qualifications)'

"Looks like a long read." Jazz jumped several inches off her seat and hastily closed the book.

"Mom! Y-you're up early. I thought you and dad took Saturdays off and let Danny or Valerie handle the ghosts." Maddie sat down across from her daughter and grabbed a mug of her own. After a brief and silent complaint at the lack of coffee, the older woman took a sip of her tea.

"Does Danny know you're using him as a test subject?" Jazz snorted.

"Come on mom. You and dad run tests on Danny all the time. He's so unique; we have to test him so we can find out if something's wrong. How else would we know? Besides," she muttered, "I can't help him using anything already known in psychology. His mental problems are as unique as he is. The only way I can help is by watching and guessing what's normal and what's not. Same as you." Maddie reached over and cupped her daughter's hand, her other lifting her mug once again.

"I wasn't saying you were wrong, I was asking if Danny knew. I know how hard you've been working to keep him together honey. We all do. It would be so much easier if there were other people like him to talk to. But it's too dangerous to use the portal like that. And who could you trust with that kind of power? I'm very proud of Danny for handling it like he has, but he's unique, and he'll have to stay that way." Jazz's look darkened. "What's wrong, hon? We all decided that a long time ago. You know how dangerous that accident was. The odds of it working again are very long."

"It's not that." She muttered. "It's just that that seems to be the position on both sides. Danny told me something yesterday that he left out before." Maddie frowned and leaned forward. "Apparently the Ghost Council is afraid of what he'll be able to do someday, so they've put a blanket ban on half ghosts. The secret of making them is supposed to be kept quiet and to quote the ghosts, 'hybrids must never be allowed to multiply.'"

Maddie was silent for some time, sipping her tea and setting it down. Then sipping again.

"Multiply how?" She asked finally.

"At all." Jazz answered. "Nothing. The ghosts are scared too, mom. So are the people on this side, and humans don't even know everything about Danny yet. He took it kind of hard."

"But you know what that means?" Her mother asked, voice shaking. "Maybe half ghosts can actually have living children after all." Jazz cocked an eyebrow.

"We haven't said anything to Danny yet, but your father and I looked into the possibility." She said, looking haunted. "Danny's young now, but someday he might want children, and we thought we should see. We tried different tests on any ectoplasm samples we had left over from our work with Danielle, using the machine we made to stabilize her structure to bond strands of his DNA into a human skin cell."

Maddie took another sip. "The cells kept multiplying for a few hours, but then they started showing erratic ghost powers. Each time a power activated, cells would burst, melt, and die. It's the same problem as with Danielle. The powers burned through the healthy human DNA like fire, and the cells couldn't cope. Any child Danny might have would have enough ecto-DNA to develop ghost powers and attributes, but not enough of the important strands for stability, and would die horribly."

Jazz stared at her mother. "That's horrible. What can we say to him?" Maddie quickly shook her head, eyes lighting up.

"No no, this is wonderful! I know the ban on multiplying is bad, but it's legal, not natural. The fact that they made it means there might be a way to fix the problem. Somehow."

"But what do I say to Danny? He doesn't seem to have made the multiply/kid connection, but he will." Maddie shot her daughter a comforting smile.

"Honey, I know you care, but your father and I are here, too. Let us handle this one when it happens, okay? You don't have to do it all on your own."

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Damon needed an aspirin. Or two. Or five. The shriek splitting the air was obviously his daughter viciously subduing another ghost. That made three in the last hour. Valerie was definitely upset about something. To be honest, a part of him wanted to shoot something too. 'Smith', or whoever he really was had been busy. A small crew of men had already been deployed to every single tower site, the heads of which refused to talk to him. He had yet to see their credentials, their background, and didn't even know most of their names. They all answered to Smith immediately, and Smith had followed all of his instructions to the letter, but Damon didn't like middle men. What were they doing that they couldn't report to him about? They weren't his men, they were Smith's men. And who knew how long Smith would keep following his orders. Gray didn't like this one bit. Hence the giant aspirin bottle. Carefully unscrewing the cap, the head of Security reached in and grabbed a single pill. No sense going overboard; his headache wasn't that bad.

BOOM!

Shattered glass littered the floor as Val landed on his office floor and disengaged her jet board.

"Sorry dad, I thought that glass wasn't getting put in for another week." His daughter said as she plopped down into a chair. Damon from the mess to his still-upset little girl and grabbed another pill.

"Is something wrong, hon?" He asked politely. Once Valerie had completely opened up about her 'hobby', the two had made a silent pact to treat this part of her life as professionally as possible. No family stuff. The huntress worked for the city, she couldn't be his daughter when she was working. Of course Damon never followed through with his promise, but it was important to try.

"What do you think about Phantom?" Val asked suddenly. Damon blinked a few times, caught off guard. After the incident at the docks, his daughter had gotten along with the ghost boy reasonably well. Too well, if you read the 'Spook'. Had the two fallen out?

"I think he's a very capable fighter." He answered carefully. "He works very hard to protect the town, and has my greatest respect." His daughter frowned.

"I mean…what do you think of him? Not what he does, but who he is."

"Why are you asking, Valerie? Did you two have a fight?" Val looked down.

"Not really. I just…I don't know if I can like him anymore." Damon raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you liked each other. I thought it was just a hunting thing between you two."

"That's not important!" Val said hurriedly. "I'm just confused, and needed to talk to somebody. I've heard a lot of stuff that I don't understand or know enough about. I know I can trust you, dad, so I'm asking you. What do you think about Phantom?"

Damon sat still for a while, absently resorting his papers. He knew he was stalling, but passed it off as waiting for the aspirin to kick in.

"I like him." He said at last. Val looked up, surprised. "He seems funny, in a way. All that fake confidence, the quips, the big show to make people respect him even though he doesn't seem to think he deserves it. He seems like some normal kid trying to have fun and kick butt at the same time. What's not to like?"

"He's a ghost." His daughter supplied.

"And you're a human." Damon retorted, slightly irritated by his daughter's attitude. "Does he hate you for that?" Val stared at her dad for a moment, taken aback by his reaction.

"No." She said at last. "But that's different. Ghosts are evil, dangerous, violent things. Humans aren't like that." Damon cocked an eyebrow.

"Really?" He asked, slightly bemused. "I think I've heard Phantom say on several occasions that not all ghosts are evil, and that he just wants to help. That doesn't sound to violent or evil to me. Yeah he's dangerous, but so are you, honey. And humans don't all smell like roses. You should just meet the guy I'm working with right now. And what about that Masters guy you started with? He was human, and didn't he rig your suit to blow up? That sounds pretty evil to me." Val scowled slightly.

"But all of those ghosts out there are evil. Why shouldn't Phantom be, too?"

"Honey, you're painting with a pretty broad brush there. Just because many of the ghosts you meet are evil doesn't mean they all are. Of course the invading ghosts are evil, they're invading! How many other ghosts have you actually met? You can't judge Phantom by what he is; you have to think about what he's done. But I can't help you with that; you'll have to work it out on your own." Frowning, Damon got up and headed out to inspect his new workers, leaving his daughter to think.

"Why?" His daughter asked. "Why can't you help me figure it out?" Damon paused in the doorway and shot his little girl a sad smile.

"That's how prejudice works, dear." He replied softly. "You have to work through it on your own, make up your own mind once and for all. Otherwise, you'll never be able to get past it."

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Deep in an underground complex, two generic suits shook hands. Things were going well. Bracing themselves, the two Guys in White walked down the hall towards a door. This door looked no different from any other. It bore no mark, no number, not sign. The only thing that identified it was the babbling screams coming from inside. Grimacing, the two men walked in.

"Operative K." The first one intoned. The jerking, spasming man on the padded table stopped thrashing momentarily and fixed them with an unsteady stare. "Let me out! I'm not crazy! I'm not!" One of the technicians nearby gave him a small dose of sedative, and K slipped back, woozy.

"He's fine when we're not treating him, but his altered memories refuse to correct themselves. We've tried medicines for amnesia, Alzheimer's, even schizophrenia, but nothing's working. And the side-effects," he added, gesturing to the restraints, "aren't always pleasant."

"So there's no chance he'll be able to tell us more about Phantom?"

"None. I'm sorry; I know it's your case now. We'll increase his dose to see if that helps." K gave a weak moan and thrashed about at that last, eyes wide and terrified. "We can only hope that no permanent damage is done getting that information. He's perfectly fine now without meds, but if we keep pushing…" The doctor shrugged. "Still, I suppose one can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs." K thrashed about again, but the others were ignoring him.

"Hmm. Said the second agent. Well there are other sources. Perhaps we can persuade the Fentons to-"

"Not the Fentons!" Shouted K, shooting up against the restraints. "Stay away from the Fentons! Stay away from the Fentons! Stay…away…from…" The man's eyes rolled back and he collapsed back onto the table. The doctor removed the quick-dosing mini-gun from his neck and apologized profusely to the two senior agents. Both of them passed it off as nothing and took their leave.

"Not the Fentons, huh?" Asked the first one. "Now why would Phantom program that into the agents?"

"Yes," supplied the other, "we really must pay them a visit."