Disclaimer: You know the drill by now. I own nothing.

#1-Easier

A/N:for the purposes of this drabble, his parents know his secret

Hiking the bag over his shoulder, Danny took one last look around. This room had been his for as long as he could remember. The bed, the books, the countless models and NASA posters, all of this was his. Stained and scored with more than 15 years of living, the four walls were familiar, comforting. A scorch mark just beside the door was a reminder of one of his very first ectoblasts. And there...by that corner...a dent from when he had kicked his sneakers off a little too enthusiastically. His floor was scuffed and worn from countless years of traffic and if he turned his head he could just see carved words on the base board beside his bed. DANNY, TUCKER, and SAM. They had been nine years old when they had carved those words.

It didn't look any different really. The only things missing were what would fit in Danny's small duffle bag. Still, the room looked somehow empty all of a sudden, somehow sad. Danny's chest tightened and he almost lost his resolve. This was home, the only home he had ever known. The thought of leaving it suddenly brought tears to his eyes and drained the strength from his legs, and all Danny wanted to do was curl up underneath his covers and pretend that everything was normal.

But it wasn't normal. The GIW had been getting close over the last few weeks...far, far too close for Danny's comfort. The last close call had come within a hairsbreadth of disaster. Even Jazz had been forced to admit that it was just a matter of time.

His parents tried to help of course. They were talking about a 'family holiday', taking a few months, letting the heat cool off...but Danny knew better. The one thing that the GIW had was persistence. They would not stop; they would keep coming, no matter how far or fast his family ran. In Danny's view, that left him exactly one option. It was better for everyone.

With a great effort of will, Danny turned away towards the window. For the first time that he could remember, the transformation was almost painful. As the light ran over his body, his chest seemed to contract into itself and he had to fight down a sob. It's the only way, He reminded himself sternly, Get it together Fenton!

Taking a deep breath, the young halfa turned himself intangible and slipped through the glass. He stubbornly refused to look back as he floated down to the street. Two figures were waiting, just outside of the streetlights and half hidden in the gloom. He landed before them and the three didn't speak for one long moment.

"...It won't be forever." Tucker quietly assured, uncharacteristically serious. "We'll think of something...get the GIW to back off."

Danny snorted without humour, eyes locked on the ground.

Sam frowned and stepped towards him. With a gentle hand she forced him to meet her eyes. "We'll think of something." She repeated firmly. Her eyes glanced down to her and Tucker's bags, sitting on the ground beside them. "And we'll do it together."

#2-Eccentric

Vlad was eccentric.

Everyone agreed. Even before that lab accident he had been a little odd, a little off. He and those two friends of his, talking about ghosts and ectoplasm and things that normal people just didn't believe in. That said, he was probably the most normal in the bunch. He was the most ambitious, the most calculating. No one was surprised when he was the only one of the three who actually made something of himself.

Sam was eccentric.

Everyone agreed. With her scowl and her boots and her black in sharp contrast to her parents' bubbly, pastel hued attempt to bring back the 1950's. Coming from a rich family, she could have easily been one of the most popular girls in school. Instead, she chose to shroud herself in darkness, hanging out with her loser friends. She was the bottom of the social totem pole, only one step above the band geeks. They all shook their heads and did not understand.

Jazz was eccentric.

Everyone agreed. She was far from normal, but it was a good sort of odd. Jazz was brilliant and bubbly and as vibrant as her bright red hair. She was a shining jewel of Casper High. People smiled at her as she walked by. Her teachers all looked on with bright eyed pride. Jazz would go far...if only she could lose that fascination with ghosts. It must be genetic.

Danny was not eccentric.

Everyone agreed. Sure he came from a crazy family and his parents were nut jobs, but Danny himself was about as odd as a cold day in Alaska. He was an average, C+, non-athletic, bully magnet like a thousand others around the country. If he came to school limping, or bleeding, or disappeared at odd times, no one noticed because Danny himself was not noticeable. He was small and invisible. He was background noise.

#3-Eczema

A/N: in no way is this to be construed as dismissive of how irritating or painful eczema can be, it is simply meant to mock how wholly overly dramatic some teenagers can be and the word just fit

"It's not that bad."

"It's a disaster! Look at this! I look deformed!"

"What? How do you get 'deformed' out of that?"

"Fine, diseased then."

"Disea...Star, it's a patch of red skin."

"Flakey red skin, my skin is falling off. I look like I have leprosy! I can't go to school like this!"

"Don't you think that you're being just a little overdramatic?"

"...and people will avoid me, and Paulina won't let me sit next to her in class. This is horrible! This is terrible! My life is over!"

"...You're ignoring me now, aren't you?"

Star just sat in her bed with the covered pulled miserably over her face. Her father sighed and turned to his wife. "Your daughter...that's all I'm saying."

#4-Ego

Another blow hit Danny's stomach and he doubled over in pain. All of the wind blasted out of his lungs and for a moment all he could focus on is the simple act of breathing. Glancing up, he could see Dash winding back for another hit. The fist slowed on its way to his face.

Not again! Id screamed. Hit him back. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Hit him back!

Superego grabbed Id around the collar and shook him. You'll expose us all. Think for a second you stupid child! We can take it. We've had worse. Can Dash say the same if we lose control? Can he take even one of our hits?

We're angry. Ego piped in from the corner. We're hurt. We want to hurt back. We might not be able to hold ourselves back. He nodded differentially to Superego. I agree. We can take it.

Time sped up again. Danny had a brief second of resignation before flesh met flesh.

#5-Endogamy (the requirement of marrying within a specific group or class)

Sam sighed deeply, nearly tripping over her own feet for the millionth time. Give her combat boots and jeans and she could run a marathon, but heels and a floor length dress turned her into a bigger klutz than Tucker. All around her, colours flashed. Bright swaths of satin, silk, and other outrageously expensive materials flicked through the air. Their wearers floated between diplomats, actors, and other variants that made up the upper crust of society. The general murmur of conversation was broken only by the occasional laugh, a sound as false as most of the people here. In the background was the sound of a band playing in the corner. A string quartet, the music was tasteful, non-descript...and utterly forgettable.

Elevator music. Sam thought uncharitably, pulling at her dress again and generally feeling uncomfortable. Her eyes searched desperately for a clock. Please let it be late enough to leave. Please let it be late enough to leave. The clock informed her that she had only been there for an hour. ...Damn.

"Sammikins!" Double damn.

Sam didn't even try to smile as she turned towards her mother. Her mother knew exactly what she thought about being dragged to this stupid thing; she had certainly vocalized it loudly enough.

Her mother met her dour scowl with a face splitting smile. Glancing to her mother's side, Sam realized she was dragging a young man about Sam's age in her wake. A feeling of utter dread settled in Sam's stomach. Here we go again.

"There you are Sammikins!" Her mother beamed as she drew even with her daughter. "I simply have to introduce you to this lovely young man. This is Edward Mannings...his family owns a rather large computer security firm on the West coast. There are so few young people here tonight, I thought you two could entertain each other."

Without giving her daughter a chance to refute the idea, Pamela Manson spun back into the tides of people, leaving Sam alone with the perfectly dressed braggart who was looking down his nose at her.

"A pleasure to meet you miss Manson..." Edward began, reaching for her hand.

Suddenly, he froze mid-motion. Every muscle tensed and his eyes flashed green. He straightened, his haughty expression softening into a familiar lopsided grin. "Looking good Sam." Danny's voice said with Edward's mouth.

"Danny?" Sam hissed incredulously. "What are you doing?"

Edward/Danny shrugged. "I know how much you hate these things. I was going to fly you away when no one was watching, but this is a much better idea. At least you won't have to deal with your mom's nagging later."

He glanced over to the dance floor set up across the room. "Want to dance?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Sam's lips twitched. She met his steady, expectant look for only a moment before giving in.

"Why not?" She murmured softly, letting him lead her away. A real smile broke on her face for the first time that evening.

#6-Enterprise

Tucker looked out of his office window. The cityscape obscured the horizon with its massive skyscrapers. Thirty stories below, he could see the many vehicles and people that made up the life of New York City, their frantic movements looking somewhat sluggish from the great distance he observed them. It's a far cry from Amity Park. He thought to himself.

As he stood by the window, Tucker suddenly became aware of another in the room. There was no sound of the door, no audible sign, but the temperature dropped a few degrees and the air suddenly became charged, thrumming slightly with energy. Tucker smiled before turning around. It had been far too long since he had felt those familiar sensations.

"Hey man." He greeted his old friend. Danny gave a small smile in return. He was in Phantom form, floating cross-legged a few feet behind Tucker's desk. The years had been good to him. He had finally hit a growth spurt in the last year of high school and the many years of combat had given him muscles that filled out his costume well. His hair was still the same, perpetually a half inch too long and wild. His face had matured though, easy laugh lines beginning around his eyes and face. His eyes had grown serious and deep, years of responsibility shining through.

Right now though, he looked tired.

"Hey Tuck," He returned softly. "Been awhile."

"Yeah, well, of the two of us I'm not the one who can fly at 200 mph."

"True." Danny allowed. He dropped to the floor and triggered the transformation. Human, he walked up to Tucker and the two embraced.

Tuck pushed his friend to arms length. "I'm real sorry about your mom man, I wish I could have made it back for the funeral."

Danny waved the thought away. "It was quick, heart attacks are good for that I guess. Besides, I can't imagine the CEO of Foley Technologies would have a lot of free time."

Tucker agreed, moving to two chairs on the other side of his desk. "I was in Germany when I heard." He offered. The two old friends shifted the seats to face each other.

"Not that I don't appreciate the visit, hell knows we don't see each other enough, but I got the impression that you had something specific you wanted to talk about."

"Yeah," Danny said leaning back in his chair. "I want to sell Fentonworks to you."

Tuck's brain stuttered for a second. The thought was certainly attractive from a business sense, Fentonworks represented decades of scientific research, countless patented inventions, but still... "Fentonworks is your family's legacy," he protested. "Not to mention your base of operations as Phantom."

"Exactly," Danny nodded. "I'm not mom or dad. I'm no inventor. I can't keep Fentonworks running the way they would want it to be. But I still need it. I need the technology and the equipment."

"So you want to sell it to someone you can trust." Tucker finished.

"And someone who will let me continue to operate out of it." Danny confirmed.

Tucker thought for a moment. "Whoever I send to take over operations...you'd have to let them in on the secret."

"I trust your judgement," Danny smiled. "I'm sure you'll find someone discreet."

"And I want to keep you on as management. You can oversee operations, even if you can't do the scientific stuff. A Fenton should be the one in charge of Fentonworks."

"Partners then." Danny said, holding out his hand.

Tuckers smile widened into an all out grin and he gripped Danny's hand with old familiarity. "Partners." He agreed.

#7-Epicocity

"Hah! Beat that!"

"Epicocity?" Jazz sputtered, glaring indignantly at the Scrabble board. "You can't use epicocity."

"Totally can." Tucker refuted.

"Epicocity isn't a word!"

"Totally is."

"Yeah?" She challenged. "What does it mean?"

"It's the state of being epic."

"Bull! You're making it up!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"It needs to be a word in the dictionary!"

"It is in the dictionary...See!" Tucker shoved his PDA in her face.

Jazz just gaped at him for a moment. "... does not count."

"And why not?"

"Because they aren't real words!"

"It's still a dictionary."

"It doesn't count."

"Sam!"

"Going with Jazz on this one." Sam didn't look up from her book. "Not a word."

"Hah!" Jazz exclaimed, snatching the score paper and scratching out Tucker's last move.

"Epicocity." She snorted in disbelief.

#8-Esoteric (meant for a only a select few/private/confidential)

A/N: set in the first season before Jazz figured out Danny's secret

Mr. Lancer was not a stupid man, nor unobservant, despite popular belief. And really, one would have to be both blind and deaf not to realize that there was something seriously wrong with Mr. Fenton and his cohorts.

The three had always been loners, spurning the company of anyone save each other. Oh, they would speak and interact with other people, but there was always the feeling that you were on the outside looking in. Those three truly saw each other, everyone else was an acquaintance at best. Really, in their own way they were as cliquey and exclusive as the popular crowd.

This had always been the normal state of affairs, but it felt different now. Before, they set themselves apart through common choice and defence against the popular crowd, loathe as Lancer was to admit that such Palaeolithic strategies were necessary. But there was a different timbre to it now, darker perhaps. They gazed at everyone outside of their group with faintly veiled suspicion, clinging to each other with the desperation of dying men. They were fanatically protective, as if anything or anyone outside of the group might be a threat that would tear them apart.

It was strange, and not a little disturbing. Lancer had been a teacher for 35 years, seen the spectrum of teenage behaviour and nuance, and every instinct he had developed during that time screamed that something was wrong.

#9-Eugenics

Her first impression is light. Bright white light that hurts her eyes and everything's new and it's scary. And then there is a face standing over her and it has blue skin and fangs and red eyes and it's scary too, but the hands are gentle when they pick her up and he smiles.

"Welcome to the land of the living little one." He says and she stutters for a reply, reaching for words that she somehow knows even now.

"Wh...Who?"

"I'm your father." He states calmly. "Your name will be Danielle."

"Danielle." She whispers as her eyes begin to close. And somehow the word feels right.

She's three days old the first time she transforms. Up until that point she had been resting, propped up in a big comfy bed in a room so big that Daddy's footsteps echoed when he came to see her.

But then a ghost vulture pops out of the wall and it scares her and suddenly there's a funny feeling in her stomach and she's floating. Her father is ecstatic.

"Oh, well done my girl! And with no coaching at all! Oh very, very good!"

She doesn't know what exactly she's done, but Daddy is smiling again, so she thinks she might like it.

"Is everyone like us?" She asks her father. She's one week old and Daddy has made her a big supper to celebrate the occasion. "Does everyone else have a ghost form too?"

"No, of course not." He dismisses with a wave of his spoon. "They're all just humans. We're so much more special than that. We're halfas, half-ghosts."

"Oh." Danielle says thoughtfully. "So we're the only ones." The idea seems rather lonely to her.

"There's one more like us." Vlad corrects. "His name is Daniel. Your DNA is based off his."

"Will I get to meet him?"

Daddy's face gets an odd smirk to it and for a moment he looks mean. "Danielle my dear, I'm very much counting on it."

She is two months old when she meets Danny. Daddy has explained how Danny's been living with the humans and he won't leave. Daddy's tried to talk sense into him but he won't listen...but he doesn't belong with the humans and if Daddy could ever get him alone he could make Danny see that. So Dani has to bring Danny to him. Because he needs saving even if he doesn't want to be saved. Because Danny is a halfa, one of only three, and all three of them need to stick together.

Daddy said so.

#10-Eulogy

One day his luck will run out. Danny knows this. He doesn't kid himself. He's won his battles (and there have been many battles) but he is on borrowed time. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even next week, but one day he will fight and fall and he will not walk away. There is only one of him and an endless supply of bad guys. He will slip up, or make a mistake, or one day they will all join up and overwhelm him with sheer numbers. In any case the results will be the same.

He will jump into desperate battle before the entire town. In front of his friends and family and acquaintances and enemies, he will defy an entity so much stronger and larger and darker than him. He will fight and snarl and take the hits because the people below cannot afford him to lose. He will die before their eyes a hero.

He will die alone and anonymous on some routine patrol gone wrong. Skulker will get in a lucky hit or Vlad will set an ambush. He will never see it coming before he is bleeding and dying, helpless on the ground. His last sight will be his enemy's gloating face. Meanwhile, his friends and family will be waiting obliviously. They will worry when he doesn't come home, they will search and search and never find him. Only Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will ever know what happened.

He will be in the Ghost Zone while his friends look on, horrified, from the cockpit of the Spectre Speeder.

He will be in space, and his last sight of Earth will be so beautiful that it brings tears to his eyes.

He will be old.

He will be young.

His children will hold him as he slips away...or his wife...or a stranger...

...Or nobody at all.

But it will come, and it will be violent. And he will take Death's hand and look up into his cowl and ask if any of it made any difference.

And the answer will always, always be yes.

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone who read and especially everyone who reviewed. I love every little piece of feedback I'm given. Let me know which ones you liked, or didn't like, or give me words that you'd like me to use in the next chapter. Anything you'd like to say at all!

Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed it!