Part Two

Angela fidgeted around the kitchen, straightening things that were already perfectly in order and going out of her way to find little nooks and crannies to clean. Maurice leaned against the counter and watched her pace back and forth, back and forth.

"You did say they sounded better, Ang."

"They did sound a lot better," Angela agreed, almost absentmindedly. "Danny, especially. I barely talked to Maddie." Her heart was beating like hummingbird's wings, so she continued to flit about, looking for something—anything—to do to keep her hands busy.

"Hey." Maurice intercepted her and caught her hands. "It's going to be alright."

"I know that, but—"

"But nothing. What's really wrong?"

Sometimes she really wished that he couldn't read her so well. Sighing, she looked down at their joined fingers and squeezed. "I can't help but remember how Tucker reacted when Danny promised he'd tell us everything, Maurice. And when he offered—no, 'offered' is too mild a word—to go with Danny to the Fentons' that morning?"

Tucker had been just as uneasy as Danny. Maybe even more so. He had looked as though he was going to go with him, permission or otherwise, damn the consequences. The way Danny had looked that night… with Jazz studying abroad this semester and with Sam away for the next week, he had looked as though he had needed all the support he could get, so they had alleviated their son's punishment, just until he ensured that Danny was alright.

The why of it had occupied her mind since. Whyhad Tucker felt such a strong need to go with Danny to the Fentons? What exactly was it that Tucker was trying to protect him from? And what secret could garner that much fear in her son? In Danny?

It became increasingly scary for her to imagine, and it didn't help that Maddie told her that noneof their previously conceived theories about what was going on were correct. At first, she had been satisfied to wait, but as the days crept on, the more it badgered her and the more she had to refrain herself from pestering and demanding answers of Tucker, who made it clear that he'd say nothing about what happened when he returned from the Fentons.

All he had offered them was a broad, relieved smile and the words, "They're going to be alright."

That's all that had really mattered then, but now—now Danny was going to make good on his promise. He, Maddie, and Jack were on their way.

"I know, Ang," Maurice said. "But it really is not going to be the end of the world."

Angela sighed as he tugged on her hand, crossing arm over head and twirling her right into his embrace. She leaned her head back into his chest. "I hate this. I want this feeling gone, Maurice."

His thumb trailed across the back of her hand, and he assured, "It will be. They're good kids. You know I was hesitant to accept any theory you and Maddie came up with. I always said it was something more."

"It was something big," Angela corrected.

"Perhaps," he murmured.

"Big enough to change things. I could hear it in Maddie's voice."

"Only ghosts experience no change, Ang. Whatever it is, whatever it is that changes, we'll take it step by step. Like we always do."

The determination and surety in his tone soothed her, and tilting her head back, she pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Ugh, honestly, in the kitchen?"

Angela didn't even flinch at the abrupt entrance of her son. "Get over it," she said.

She could practically hear his eye-roll, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice when he bargained, "I'll get over it as soon as you tell me what you're whispering about so conspiratorially in the corner for."

"What makes you think we're conspiring?" Maurice asked.

Tucker shrugged and yanked open the fridge door. Bottles, cans, and containers clinked as he began to rummage through it. "Whispers. Corners. Obvious signs of conspiring. Are you denying it?"

"Is this you fishing for an answer about whether or not we'll un-ground you before Christmas break ends?" Angela responded suspiciously, stepping out of Maurice's arms and crossing her own in front of her chest. "Because sorry, honey, that ain't happening."

He didn't even look abashed. "Well darn," Tucker sighed, pulling out a can of pop and a half-eaten Subway sandwich. "I was hoping."

"You're always hoping."

"Yeah, I know. So what's the deal? You didn't answer my question." All flippantness had vanished from his voice, genuine concern replacing it. "Did something happen?"

Angela exchanged a quick glance with Maurice and said cautiously, "Danny and his parents are on their way. He asked to come over. To talk."

Tucker froze, his half-open pop can releasing a steady hiss. In the few seconds that Tucker stared at her, she could not read his face, and despite all that Maurice said earlier, her heart began its unnaturally rapid pitter-patter again.

She could always read her son's face. It was how she knew that he was keeping something from her for months now, how she knew it all somehow tied back to Danny, and how she knew, in spite of everything, that if he was doing it for Danny, his intentions were good, at the very least. He was a bit of an open book, nearly as emotionally expressive as she was herself, and it scared her that she couldn't read him now.

His finger twitched on his Pepsi can, and a crack resounded through the silent kitchen. "Oh."

Maurice studied Tucker carefully. "You don't sound very—"

Tucker snorted weakly as his father floundered for a word. "Surprised? Of course I'm not. I don't need to see a text from him to know he was going to come sooner rather than later."

"But you are worried," Angela guessed.

His fingers slid up and down the Pepsi can, but he did not respond to her statement. He didn't necessarily have to.

"Are you worried about how we'll react?" Maurice asked gently.

Tucker swallowed, but again, he did not answer directly. "Just…before he gets here, let me tell you something." He squared his shoulders and met their gazes unblinkingly, and Angela swore she had never seen her son look so serious before. "I tried to convince him not to do this—not so soon, not like this, not without me telling you some things first, just to take some of it off his shoulders—but he wouldn't hear it. It was always his secret, so I couldn't really say anything else. I don't think I ever said thank you for understanding that—I highly doubt Sam's parents would have understood if they had been around often enough to notice as much as you guys did—but I'm thanking you now. I know it's eating you alive, Mom."

"Tucker…"

Tuck ignored her and continued on, the strength in his voice ebbing. "But he's going to tell you everything. All of it. Because he thinks he owes me something. The idiot." Angela couldn't help but smile as her son's exasperation gave way to fondness. "You know how he is, and you saw him three nights ago. When he's telling you…please remember that."

Angela's brow furrowed, unsure of what to think or say in response to that, but at that moment, the doorbell rang, and Tucker, who abandoned his Pepsi and lunch, was already out the kitchen door.

"Here we go," she muttered to Maurice as they fell in step behind Tucker.

When they swung the door open, Angela found Maddie standing on the doorstep. Danny and Jack were coming up the driveway behind her, chattering animatedly about something ghost related, and the sight of Jack's broad hand on Danny's shoulder, in addition to Maddie's warm smile and Maurice's presence behind her, sent another rush of reassurance through Angela.

It really was going to be alright. Wasn't it?

"Maddie," Angela greeted.

"Hey, Ang," she responded, stepping inside and giving Angela a tight hug. Jack and Danny followed quickly behind. As Jack shook Maurice's hand, she couldn't help but notice the joy and light she had seen in Danny's eyes as he was talking to his father had disappeared, and his sudden edginess was apparent in the shy smile and quiet "hello" he offered her and Maurice by way of greeting.

After receiving a bear hug from Jack, she appraised her son's friend and said without thinking, "You remembered your coat this time, Danny."

The boy blushed bright red, and Tucker snickered as he took said coat and laid it across the back of the couch. "Yeah, I wasn't in a rush this time, I guess."

Maddie's hand gently went to his black, wind-tousled hair, and he gave his mother a small smile as she said, "Thanks for having us, Angie."

Angela had the feeling that Maddie was thanking her for far more than that. "No need to thank me. Why don't we go into the family room?" Angela suggested. To her own ears, her voice sounded a little strained. "Did you want anything to drink? Snacks?"

"Better not," Danny muttered sheepishly, making a face. He did look quite queasy, and when Tucker patted him amicably on the back, Angela winced inwardly, feeling somewhat guilty for offering at all. "Thanks anyway, Mrs. Foley."

Danny's answer seemed to be the answer for the others as well, including Tucker and Jack, which was quite surprising, and as the husbands and sons maneuvered their way to the family room, Maddie and Angela hung back a little. "He didn't eat much this morning either," Maddie sighed, a flash of exasperated amusement crossing her face when she saw her son trip over the basket of magazines near their armchair.

"Is—is he alright?" Angela asked hesitantly.

"He's in perfect health." Angela found it odd that Maddie would word it like that…and that she would say it with that much satisfaction and relief concerned her. "This is the first time he's actually told anyone, you know. I mean, without them finding out on their own beforehand."

She was rambling. "Are you alright, Maddie?"

"Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing," Maddie chuckled. Indigo eyes danced, looking more lighthearted than Angela had seen them in months. "Trust me, Ang, it might be a little…I mean, afterwards, you're going to be so—"

"Mads?" Jack called, interrupting his wife.

"Yes, sorry, we're coming!"

Sending the other woman an apologetic look, Maddie entered the sitting room, where Tucker was whispering to Danny as he paced, and found a spot next to her husband. Angela took a seat next to her.

When he saw everyone was waiting for him, Danny halted dead in his tracks, passed his gaze over the entire room, and muttered, "Thanks, Tucker."

Tucker didn't sit. Instead, he backed up against the wall, directly by Danny's side. "Always, man. The stage is yours."

Danny's lips quirked into a ghost of a smile, but in the blink of an eye, his humor was gone. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Angela was expecting him to shuffle his feet or stumble for words. She expected him to perhaps look to his parents or to Tucker for the last nudge. What she wasn't expecting was the sudden solidity in his stance, the fierceness in his eyes, looking for all the world like…

"Before I say anything," Danny said, "I want to apologize. I—It was stupid, to keep this for so long—" his gaze flicked to his parents "—especially when it wasn't…it wasn't just about me. It became about everyone the deeper and deeper I got."

Deeper and deeper I got? Angela didn't like the sound of that, and her heart seized in her throat. Unintentionally, she captured Maddie's hand. If the other mother was uncomfortable by just how tightly she was squeezing, she made no sign of it.

"And Tuck, I need to apologize to you most of all."

"Dude, shut up," Tucker grumbled.

"No, I don't think I will," Danny said, a light smirk on his face. "You have been taking the fall for me, covering for me, keeping the attention off me. Hell, you're grounded right now because of me. Sometimes, I take that for granted."

Danny turned his attention back to the adults. "He's stood by my side even when I certainly didn't deserve it, you know. I've only repaid the favor by putting my head down, like a coward, and allowing him to get in trouble at school and to feel as though you were disappointed in him, when you really shouldn't be."

From the expression on Tucker's face as he stared at Danny, Angela realized that Tucker really did feel as though he was a disappointment to them, and she nearly stopped Danny. She nearly got up then and there to reassure her son that that wasn't it.

"That's the main reason I'm—I knew I needed to give you an explanation, Mr. and Mrs. Foley. Especially after…"

She nodded weakly. "The main part of the reason?" she questioned.

"Um…" A lot of the fervor had died from his voice, and he jammed trembling fingers into his jean pockets. "It's complicated. You see, we've—Tucker, Sam, and I—we've been…"

"Go on, sweetie," Maddie coaxed when her son trailed off.

"We've…been ghost hunting."

Angela blinked, and the tension coiled in her stomach unraveled in one glorious swoop. "Ghost hunting?" she asked slowly, looking between the Fentons, her husband, and the two teens. She was quite aware that there was a hysteric note in her tone, and suddenly, a flash of anger swooped through her. That was it? That was what this was about? That is what they were doing? For the Fentons, ghost hunting was a lifestyle, far more than it was a trade, and despite how embarrassed Danny and Jazz used to be about their parents' profession, she always knew it'd be a matter of time before both Fenton children—and, by default, their friends—became interested and actively involved. Hell, even she could hold an intelligent conversation with Maddie and Jack about the science of ghosts now. Besides, with the amount of ghosts around…

The petty anger dissipated instantly when she realized exactly what he was saying. "Alone," she whispered. "You've been hunting alone."

"Ang," Maurice cautioned from her side. "He's not done expla—"

"That—that's… incredibly dangerous!" Angela exclaimed, talking over her husband and releasing Maddie's hand. "What were you two thinking? Going after ghosts without any training? Without any supervision?"

"Mom…" Tucker tried to interrupt.

She ignored him. "Ghosts are vicious!"

"Not all," Maddie disagreed beside her.

"No, not all," the other mother relented, giving Maddie an incredulous look. Her friend, who now avoided her eyes, had never discriminated before. A ghost was a ghost, and all ghosts were evil. Angela had heard it from Maddie and Jack's lips more often than not, though she had never necessarily held the same beliefs. No, not after what happened with Pariah Dark. Not after all that she had seen of Phantom on the news…and all that she had witnessed herself thereafter.

A good deal of people in Amity knew how much they owed Phantom. She was one of them, as was her husband and son. She had heard enough about the attacks at the Casper High from Tucker to glean that he truly looked up to the ghost boy, and honestly, Angela would be unsurprised if it was he who ultimately inspired the kids to try to hunt.

That didn't excuse their actions, though, even if they (as she had expected) had nothing but best of intentions. She would have hoped, nevertheless, that they had enough sense to realize that there was a vast difference between an extraordinarily powerful young ghost and themselves, who were not only human but also children—children who had been missing curfew, cutting class…Angela shook her head and narrowed her eyes at the boys. "But even so, you could have been seriously hurt!"

"I wouldn't have let them get hurt."

She stared at Danny. The authoritative tone contrasted so greatly his typical disposition that she, bewildered by the drastic change, forgot what it was she was going to chastise them for next. It was uncanny, but she truly believed he meant that. A glimmer of…it wasn't recognition, not exactly, but whatever it was, it danced within reach.

Before she could blink, however, Danny's shoulders folded inward on themselves, and the fortitude in his eyes was overcome by guilt. The uneasiness returned, and she was forcibly reminded of how he appeared on their doorstep three nights ago. "I—I've done my best, at least," he mumbled.

"You've done better than your best," Tucker disagreed under his breath. "You and your hero complex."

Maddie and Jack were watching their son with pained expressions, and it was obvious to Angela there was a concerning amount of close calls, tales, and injuries that she had yet to hear about.

She was going to press the issue, but Maurice leaned forward and suddenly waved his hand. "We can talk about that later. What I don't understand," he mused, his dark eyes flicking to the two Fenton parents before returning to the boys, "is if you two, and Sam, I suppose, have been ghost hunting…"

Angela's tumbling thoughts grinded to a stop, and she immediately latched onto what Maurice was trying to say. "He's right. If it was just the ghost hunting," she realized aloud, addressing Danny, "you wouldn't have r—" She swallowed the words "run away" and amended, "you wouldn't have… asked for a night."

"That's…where it becomes…complicated," Danny admitted. "I'm not just a ghost hunter." Tucker shifted from the corner of her eye at that very moment, and Angela's attention was averted from Danny for a split second. Tuck licked his lips and met her eyes.

Her son's words echoed in her head. When he's telling you…

A sudden flash of light startled her, and gasping, she turned. She was so shocked to see that the light was emitting from Danny that she completely missed the way the beams of light left behind a formfitting, black jumpsuit in the place of his dark jeans and sweatshirt, but she did see the light hit his face.

When he's telling you, please remember…

She witnessed those soft blue eyes begin to blaze with power before he closed them to the world, and as the light illuminated his raven-black hair and fizzled to nothing, the temperature in the room plummeted, as though the sight before her was not enough to prove there was a ghost in the room.

And not just any ghost. Phantom—Danny Phantom—blinked open his glowing green eyes and looked down at himself. "I'm a ghost, too…or at least, half of one."

Angela felt as though all the air had been constricted from her lungs, and her lips moved without her consent, silently attempting to convey everything and nothing at the same time. Her eyes traced his face, and it was amazing. Danny shone from every aspect of Phantom.

How did we not see this? Angela wondered. How did we…? Oh my God, no wonder he was so terrified. No wonder they kept this a secret. Phantom, Danny is Phantom, Jack and Maddie's son…Jesus, this is…

And Tucker had been helping him. Fighting with him.

She suddenly understood exactly what it was Tucker had been saying in the kitchen. She finally understood why he had been so protective. She understood why Danny had asked for that night. She understood so perfectly that it hurt, and unable to look at Maddie or Jack, she watched her son move away from the wall to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Danny, his arms crossed as he waited for his parents' reaction.

Maurice was the first to speak, eyes wide with awe. "You're Phantom!" Later, she would remember this and wish she had been capable of moving so that she could have smacked his arm. He really was an overgrown fanboy.

All Danny could manage was a nod, and it was Jack who came to his son's rescue. "He got caught in the Ghost Portal when it first turned on."

"Sam and I dared him to go in," Tucker added. "It was a complete accident, and since…it was kinda our fault…"

He thinks he owes me, Tucker had said. The idiot.

"I don't blame you, you know that," Phantom muttered, smiling Danny's crooked smile. When those expectant, cautious green eyes turned onto her and Maurice, her breath caught again, and she remembered seeing Phantom getting thrown down into the streets…and getting back up to his feet. She remembered seeing him sucking foes of all shapes and sizes into his Fenton Thermos. She remembered seeing a blur of black and white zooming past the hospital where she worked from time to time, flares of green following in his wake…

Pariah Dark. Undergrowth. Nocturne. Spectra and Skulker and Walker. Battles upon battles, invasion upon invasion. News story after news story, life after life… saved. With her son and Sam's help, Danny had probably done more for this city than she could possibly imagine.

"Tucker and Sam are heroes," Danny said humbly to the Foleys. "I couldn't have done any of it without them."

Maddie's indigo eyes were glowing with pride, Jack and Maurice were wearing identical grins, and Angela felt a similar warmth rise within her.

What did it matter how this happened? What mattered was that it did—there was no changing that—and that they knew the truth now. It was no less dangerous or terrifying—in fact, Angela was even more terrified than she was before—but there was no denying it: their Danny was quick to name Tucker and Sam heroes, but Danny was a hero, too.

A hero who looked like he was about to retch he was so nervous, and Angela was aware that she had been staring for minutes now, unresponsive and unmoving. Tucker's heated glare cut through her.

She started to laugh giddily, and Maddie gently drew her into a one-armed hug. Angela understood then what Maddie had been about to say, too. It was weird. It was ridiculously weird, but it was nothing she couldn't get used to. After all, Maddie and Jack had obviously revised their entire mentality about ghosts…just for Danny.

And though she was feeling very conflicted about the danger they put themselves in, she was proud. So proud. Of all of them.

After brushing away a tear or two, she joked weakly, "I suppose I understand why our drugs and gangs theory was so amusing to the pair of you."

AN: Apologies for my mistakes. I was so excited that this was done. :D I said that this is meant to be a two-shot, but knowing me…I lie. All the time. I wouldn't be surprised if it's continued/expanded upon in the near future, but for now, it is complete. I have other story ideas begging for attention first. ;)

Thank you so much for reading!

Oz out.