Author's Note:

Okay. I was getting bored from the in-action and daily conversation in the previous chapters – and chances are, so were you my lovely readers. Therefore, I threw in fantastic conflict!

Chapter Three
Lock-down

"We are experiencing a Lock-down."

Danny was no stranger to drills. Chances were, no kid was. He understood that they were necessary, that the administration would want to be sure they could maintain order during a real emergency. He acknowledged that every teacher probably thought them tedious, and that every student loved the chance to get out of class. As for himself, he secretly hoped the school was on fire every time the horn blared and those lights flashed.

But lock-down drills were a little different. The objective wasn't to get out of the school, but to get down. Mr. Lancer managed to get the class to calm down somewhat and instructed them all to get onto the ground, out of sight of any windows and stay quiet. That was the most important part.

Stay quiet.

As if freshmen on the first day of school that had just been caught in a surprise lock-down drill could actually be quiet. Mr. Lancer didn't seem to particularly mind the whispers though – which had been what lead Danny to assume this was a drill, and not the real deal. Even a teacher driven mad by the monotony of high school would show some sort of worry if they had been in actual danger.

"So, drill?"

Danny turned to Tucker who was lying in an odd position underneath two desks and nodded.

"Drill."

Sam made a noise that sounded between a snort and an eye-roll – if rolling your eyes could actually make a sound, that is. "Of course it's a drill," she whispered. "If it was real Mr. Lancer would be hiding on the ground like we are."

The teacher in question was walking among them, berating them if they talked too loudly. Tucker sighed heavily, and voiced the same thing Danny was thinking.

"I hoped it was real."

"Of course you were. And if someone actually got hurt how bad would you feel?'

"As long as it wasn't me? Great! Some excitement for this town."

Danny laughed, quickly turning it into a hacking cough as Mr. Lancer glanced at him. He wouldn't have been surprised if Lancer too secretly hoped for the drill to be real – he had that look about him. He turned back to Sam. "So, what happens now?" he asked.

"Well," Sam said. "They are going to call the police, have them do a sweep of the school, and then probably take us to an assembly to tell us how we did. They might even tell us what to do for other drills so we don't have to do those too." She shrugged. "They're probably working it into the welcoming assembly, that's why they did on the first day."

Danny found that he had been nodding much longer than was necessary. "Right," he said ignoring the raised eyebrow he was receiving from Tucker. "How long do you think that'll take?"

Sam grinned. "I think we're going to miss Math."

"That makes this the best day ever."

"As long as we don't miss lunch, I'm okay." Tucker massaged his stomach rather comically. "I'm starving!"

"Perhaps it would be prudent for you to eat a larger breakfast, Mr. Foley."

All three of them jumped. During the course of their conversation, Mr. Lancer had made his way toward their group until he was right next to them. Tucker flushed and mumbled something about being needing lots of protein before lapsing into silence.

"Now, maybe this time would be better spent working on your paper's instead of chattering."

Danny watched as Sam lifted her chin. "I'm confident with my paper," she said. "The topic is something I'm familiar with after all."

For a second, Danny swore he saw a smile tugging at the man's lips. "We'll see tomorrow, after they're graded."

As he walked away, Danny nudged her, smirking. "Now you've got to prove yourself."

"Nope. This is a piece of cake."

Danny exchanged skeptical brows with Tucker. "Just so long as you don't drag us into it," Tuck added looking grim. "Now, let's kill some time."

They played Tuckers version of Tick-Tack-Toe, refitted for three people for what felt like hours, but only came up to ten minutes. Danny briefly considered actually working on his essay, but he barely got three sentences in before he gave up the endeavor. He couldn't think straight. He engaged Tucker in a furious thumb-wrestling match, which resulted in Tuck's victory. Sam then suggested they try to guess what their classmates were thinking, but that quickly became annoying. They'd been sitting there for nearly half-an-hour when Danny finally realized Sam had yet to tell them about her holiday.

"So, how was the family?" he asked, trying hard not to look too pleased at her discomfort. She glared at him anyway.

"Horrible." And she launched into a retelling of a picnic that resulted in several rows, a broken vase, and Kool-Aid all over the car. "Jeffery – that's Dad's cousin once removed – got all offended after Mom said he couldn't ask me out. Then Aunt Marie wanted to take me to Victoria Secrets to try and open up my inner woman. And—"

"Hold it," Danny said abruptly. "Jeffery wanted to date you?"

"Yeah…"

"But you're family!"

"Yeah, I didn't know you're from the South," Tucker said smirking.

Sam sighed. "Jeffery's a good guy. He's just not all there, if you catch my drift. Anyway, after my Mom forced me to wear a pink-tee I snuck away with my Grandmother – you know, the one who lives with us – and in a sprit of rebellion, got my hair done and bought the contacts."

Tucker whistled. "That must have been an interesting night…"

"Yup." She grinned rather evilly. "But totally worth it."

Something caught Danny's attention then. At first, he thought he was having an incredibly lucid hallucination, brought on by sleep deprivation. He coughed, the sound weak as though he were strangling.

"Dude, are you okay?"

He felt Tucker nudge him. Unable to form any words to quite describe the horror of the situation, Danny merely nodded toward the window and the parking lot beyond, a groan of utter despair leaving his lips. There, parked in such a way that it occupied three parking spaces and a patch of yellow grass, was the Fenton Family Assault Vehicle. He'd forgotten about his parent's nasty habit of turning on the Police Scanner. He felt a reassuring hand on his back and his mood slipped further. Great. Well, at least they knew how bad this was going to turn out.

"Look on the bright side, we won't be having anymore drills after this."

Danny did not acknowledge Tucker's words. He didn't really have the time to do so. Out in the hallway, there was a thunderous yell that was amplified by a mega-phone. Danny recognized his father's voice and tried to disappear through the wall via osmosis.

"Everyone remain calm! It's no match for my ecto-pulse obliterator! This is Jack Fenton, keeping your hallway's safe!"

Following this little introduction – which mortified Danny – there was a loud bang, shaking the walls. There was perhaps a split second wherein the entire class remained absolutely still before, as a single tidal wave of flesh, they fled for the door and out into the hallway. Mr. Lancer started shouting for everyone to get back into their seats, but for all the good it did, he might as well have burst into flame. Danny shot a glance that was shared between Sam and Tucker before following them into the chaos that had become the hall.

Several lockers had been thrown wide open, some of their doors indented strangely. A flurry of loose paper, pencils, and the occasional apple-core littered the ground. The scent of slightly burnt ectoplasm filled Danny's nostrils – a combination of burnt hair, cinnamon and freshly made gelatin. And there, looking absolutely ridiculous – Danny was fairly sure that was the general opinion – were his parents, dressed in their florescent spandex. His father was holding a large gun that was smoking at the end, and wearing an expression of deep frustration and despair. His mother was spinning an odd gadget above her head like a lasso, though she quickly put it away at the sight of the forming crowd.

"Fudge-nutters!" His father yelled, glancing at Maddie. "It got away!"

Danny took great care to stay out of their sight by retreating to the back of the crowd. As though sensing his need to stay hidden, Sam and Tucker stood in front of him, blocking him from view. He couldn't see the scene very well now – the price one pays for invisibility, he supposed – but his mother's voice was clear over the whispers that had begun.

"Children, return to your classrooms immediately!"

"Don't say it, don't say it," Danny chanted under his breath.

"We have ghosts in the building!"

Danny closed his eyes, several choice swear words rising to the surface of his mind. Why on Earth would they think that there was a ghost? Ghosts did not exist. Why couldn't they just accept that fact and get on with their lives? As these thoughts were forming, the teachers converged, pushing past the students.

"What's going on?"

Danny recognized Webb's voice. He peaked around Sam's head, catching sight of her. Her arms were folded, her eyes narrowed. Mr. Lancer was similarly glaring at the pair of them. In fact, all the teachers looked shocked and angry except for one man. He gave off a certain air of superior intellect, from the creases in his stern face, to the gleam in his wizened grey gaze. He leaned upon a wooden cane in almost lazy respect, while giving no indication that he actually required the assistance. Grey eyes observed the scene before him with almost calculated amusement. It was rather strange, to tell the truth.

"You have an ecto-breach here in the mathematics wing!"

"This is the English department…"

"We strongly recommend that everyone return to their classrooms and wait until we declare the coast clear!"

At that moment Maddie looked straight at him. Danny ducked a second too late. "Hi Sweetie, how's your first day going?"

Danny dearly wanted to reply that it had suddenly taken a turn for the worst, but his voice wasn't working. Everyone had turned to look at him, and he heard laughter rippling through the crowd. His face flamed with color, his fists clenched. He didn't answer her, and her smile faltered slightly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fenton," It was Webb again. She looked nearly as appalled as Danny felt. "This was a faculty organized drill. Mr. Worth," she nodded toward the man with the cane, "Is in fact the one who figured the specifics. I ask you to please leave before you do any more… damage." She glanced at Danny and he felt a surge of gratitude toward her.

Maybe she knew what if felt like to have embarrassing family members.

Maddie and Jack looked between themselves before sheepishly stowing their weapons. "Right, sorry about that," his mother offered. The man with the cane – Mr. Worth – stepped forward and Danny noticed that he was dressed rather oddly. He wore a vintage brown tweed waistcoat and a loosened tie, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His dark gold hair was long and tied at the back with a ponytail, though his beard had been trimmed to a respectable length.

"Perhaps," he said in a deep silky voice, "I will share with you the dates of future drills."

Something in the way that he said that, made Danny think he wouldn't tell them all the dates. His parents didn't seem to notice though, and after a minute of awkward silence, they turned and left, his father muttering something about cookies. Danny couldn't believe his luck. It was the first day of school, and his reputation was shattered. Now, he would become the kid with the freak parents.

And high school had looked so promising.

Ashes to Ashes

"C'mon Danny, it could've been worse."

"Oh yeah, how?"

It was lunch, after the assembly. Sam had been very right in saying they would miss math to sit through a welcoming ceremony, but somehow Danny didn't consider this a blessing. If anything, it seemed the universe had decided to use the moment to say, "Math isn't that bad, now is it?"

Perhaps the worst part of it all was the fact that the memory of his parents attacking the lockers was still very fresh in everyone's minds. At least Danny wasn't the only one suffering. Jazz, he noticed, had skived off the assembly entirely, but she was still considered the smartest girl in school. Mom hadn't managed to ruin her reputation. His reputation hadn't even had time to form! The instant he'd walked into the gym the laughs and sniggers had begun. As he passed by his classmates to sit on the bleachers, Star remarked loudly how his parents had never come to a drill before he arrived.

And everyone else jumped on the bandwagon.

"Well…" Sam seemed to falter. "The teachers could've mocked you too."

Wow. Really? Danny rolled his eyes and she grimaced. Tucker slapped him on the back, heaving a sigh.

"It'll blow over soon enough."

Danny nodded glumly. "And what little chance at popularity I had will be ruined forever."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I said what little chance."

"Oh, who cares Danny? Why do you want to be popular anyway? You have to like all the right bands, wear the right clothes. It stamps out individuality and turns teens into mindless zombies who soak in the bureaucracy without a second thought!"

Danny didn't answer. He knew Sam had a point, but that didn't lessen the appeal of it all. He liked them a lot, they were the best friends a guy could ever ask for, but there was something about having a large group of friends he coveted. He wanted to be included, be invited to all the awesome parties. He knew Tucker felt somewhat similar – he'd told him over the phone a few nights ago. Sam just couldn't understand their need to conform, so he merely nodded and returned to his turkey and cheese sandwich to avoid saying anything. But, he never got a chance to take a bite.

"Hey Fen-turd!"

Something hard and decidedly slimy collided with the back of his head. He had no doubt that it was what the lunch lady called food and turned, stunned to look at the student that had decided to throw it at him. Danny would've rolled his eyes had he gotten over his shock.

Dash. How did he not see this coming?

It was unavoidable, expected even. Beginning sometime through middle school Dash Baxter had settled upon a career of bulling and no amount of counseling or parent-teacher conferences had changed his mind. One could therefore assume that Danny would make his way onto his list of targets eventually. He was thin, shorter than most of the girls and smart enough to scrap decent grades in all his classes – with the exception of mathematics. And then, he had freaky ghost-hunting parents. It was a no brainer, really.

He had hoped he'd wait until after the first week of school, though. At least the first day.

With a grimace he touched the back of his head, wiping the crap away. He met Dash's gaze, totally perplexed. What did his abnormalities have anything to do with lunch? Dash seemed to falter for a moment, but the next second he was grabbing another handful of the slop.

"Maybe if your parents hadn't delayed lunch this would taste better."

It was such a stupid reason Danny couldn't even think of how to counter it. Even his friends seemed to have temporarily become speechless, unable to quite understand how such a person could function. He ducked as another wad of the unidentifiable lunch food came flying for him, hitting the lunch wall opposite him with a sickening slap.

He was just taking advantage of the first real opportunity to make fun of him in front of everyone – which, by the sound of laughter beginning to rumble through the lunchroom, was working. Danny clenched his fists, getting jerkily to his feet.

"Dash I—"

"Well, isn't this very interesting."

Danny's furious retort cut-off mid sentence as he whirled around to see Mr. Worth leaning casually against the cafeteria door, appearing only mildly surprised to see the confrontation before him. The spectators fell silent, though Dash immediately pointed at Danny.

"He started it, he—"

"What?" Danny shouted drowning him out. "You—"

"My eyes function quite fine, I assure you." His tone had a touch of impatience. He glanced at Danny, before turning quite abruptly to the door. "Mr. Fenton, follow me."

"Mr. Worth you can't possibly—" Sam began but she fell silent at a mere glance from him. He had an interesting effect on the students, even Sam – who Danny knew never had any problem speaking her mind to adults – seemed unable to say anything. Dash actually looked at war with himself.

"Mr. Fenton?"

A distinctive frown on his face, Danny crossed to him in a few short strides and followed him out into the hall. They walked slowly, every left step punctuated by the thud of the cane hitting the floor. For several minutes, Mr. Worth didn't say anything, merely leading the way down the hall. Danny followed in silence, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

The question had come so out of nowhere that Danny was caught off guard.

"What?"

"Do you," Mr. Worth repeated glancing at him now. "Believe in ghosts?"

Danny stared at him for a moment. "No," he finally said.

"Why not?"

"Why?" Danny repeated blankly. They'd stopped outside the boy's locker rooms. "Well, they're only stories."

Mr. Worth seemed to find this highly amusing. He chuckled, the done dry and smooth. "Coming from one who lives with ghost hunters."

Danny frowned. "Are you going somewhere with this?" he asked slowly.

Mr. Worth chuckled again, apparently having decided to ignore his question. "Take a shower, Mr. Fenton. The coleslaw will leave a lingering scent in your hair otherwise." He turned to leave.

"Wait," Danny called. This was freaking him out slightly. "You talked to my parents, didn't you?"

"I did indeed."

"Did they say they saw a ghost?"

His smile widened. "What do you think they saw, Mr. Fenton?"

A pause. "Nothing. Their own imagination."

"Really?"

"What?" Danny said, giving a nervous laugh. "You think they actually saw something?"

"It's something to consider." He started walking down the hallway. "Do the presence of footprints imply a passing, or a standing?"

And so Danny was left feeling extremely confused.

Ashes to Ashes

Thwack.

Iron hammer collided with sheetrock, a cloud of white dust filling the air of the subterranean lab. It had been modified from the original basement of the house, added onto, and fortified. Thick sheets of metallic alloy coated the walls and floor, giving it a cliché futuristic feel. Danny found the place fairly creepy, from the shiny walls to the beakers of slimy green ectoplasm. But, for once, he didn't mind being down here.

He got to knock a hole in the wall. And heaven knew that was a great way to release frustration.

Danny had known that life in high school would eventually take a steep dive down – it was after all, avoidable – but he had hoped it would wait until after the first day to do so. He blamed his parents, blamed their sick obsession with ghosts. Why had they shown up at school? Why had the conspired to ruin his life?

Thwack.

And he was still helping them with their blasted experiments! That mere fact nearly made him throw down the hammer in disgust, but something stayed his hand, something other than merely taking advantage of this chance to destroy something. He shivered, and swung the hammer again, his brow creasing with thought. Mr. Worth's question was rising to the surface of his mind again, bothering him.

Do the presence of footprints imply a passing, or a standing?

Urgh! That didn't even make sense! And he didn't even know why he wasn't telling Sam and Tucker about it. He'd returned to them only after lunch had ended and answered in monosyllables – causing any conversation to quickly die out. He'd been grateful when they'd finally stopped trying to make him feel better about the whole thing. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He shouldn't be mad at them; they had only been trying to help. And he'd never told Sam about her surprise. And he'd blown off hanging out with them after school.

Thwack.

Some friend he was.

"Danny?"

Danny stopped in the middle of another attack on the wall, the voice of his sister interrupting his thoughts. He didn't say anything for a moment, then finally… Thwack.

"What?"

"I know you're upset at mom and dad, but you should—" Great. She was going to get all psychological on him. He did not need this right now.

"What?" he cut her off sharply, dropping the hammer and turning to face her. "Forgive them? See it from their perspective? How about they see it from mine, huh?"

"Danny… I know what you're—"

"Going through?" Danny laughed, a harsh mirthless sound. "Yeah, right! You weren't hit over the head with coleslaw at lunch, were you?"

"Danny—"

"Jazz, I really don't want to hear it." Silence. "I'm cold and I've got homework. I'm going to my room."

He brushed past her on the way up the stairs. He half expected her to grab his arm, but she didn't. She just stood there, watching him go with that look in her eyes, the look that meant she'd failed to do what she'd originally intended. He shut the door behind him a little harder than necessary, startling his mother who was reading at the kitchen table.

"Hey, Sweet—"

She stopped at the look on his face. She bit her lip then stood up, crossing the table over to him. "You know we love you, right?"

"I know." But you got a funny way of showing it.

Something of those thoughts must've shone on his face because she suddenly hugged him. He tried to remain stiff, but he couldn't. He hugged her back, burying his face into her shoulder.

"Today… was awful," he said, and though the words were muffled against the cloth, she heard them. She was silent for a moment before she broke the hug and looked him in the eye with those light brown eyes of hers. He could see her regret, but there was something else there.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but we needed to go in."

"Why?" he knew his tone was angry. "It was only a drill!"

"We weren't going to, but we picked up some ecto-static and—" again she cut off. Danny let out a yell of frustration, ignoring his mother's reproachful, "Danny!"

"They don't exist mom!" he started pacing. "Ghosts aren't real."

"Honey… they do."

"… I'm going to bed."

Danny turned sharply and left the kitchen. His head was starting to pound. How he was going to write Lancer's essay, he had no idea. He was angry and confused. He knew his parents weren't stupid – at least, he knew his mother wasn't. And yet she believed in something she'd never seen. She didn't even believe in God, but she believed in a afterlife. Where was the logic in that?

He kicked his desk as he passed it, and sat in the creaky chair, putting his head in his hands. He stayed like that for nearly an hour, trying to think of nothing, but something always surfaced. And that something was always ghosts. When he could no longer feel his fingers, there was a knock at his door and someone entered.

"Sweetie?"

He didn't reply, he didn't look up. Footsteps sounded as his mother crossed the room. He felt the warmth of her hand on his shoulder, the groan of springs as she sat on his bed. She didn't speak for several moments, leaving the silence to grow until one could actually feel it.

Finally, with a bit of a laugh in her voice, she said "I remember when you would go hunting with us. We'd give you the smallest gun, and you'd shoot at anything that looked suspicious."

Danny looked up.

"And," she continued with a sad smile, "You always wanted to help with the experiments. Even after that hospital visit."

"Mom…"

"And you would always sneak out with a flash-light, trying to find one. But you were just happy with the idea of them. Not like Jazz. She wouldn't believe it unless it was right in front of her."

Danny swallowed. He'd wanted to believe in their existence so much. Now, all he wanted was for his family to be normal, for them to have normal conversations that had nothing to do with specters and apparitions. "I was a little kid. I don't believe in them anymore."

Maddie Fenton glanced at the window, looking out into the starry sky above. She gave a gentle sigh and looked back at him.

"You don't have to. They believe in you."

Author's Note:

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