Chapter #10: The Accident

"You're making the right choice," Danny assures, watching as the remaining lifeboats are readied.

"I hope so," the captain mutters in return, his grey eyes flicking over the awaiting passengers.

"Don't we all?" he whispers under his breath. Sam takes his hand reassuringly, earning a small smile.

"What's to say the pirates – if that's what they are – don't go after them?"

"They're leaving in the day. Our friends don't want to be seen, and the pattern of the boats will further discourage them. Each one will have an armed crewmember on board. I have other measures in mind as well," he replies calmly.

"Other measures?" the captain turns to him, one eyebrow raised.

"Lose lips sink ships, captain," he smirks, turning to leave, "and so do icebergs."

The captain stares after him in confusion, but before he can ask any further questions, the door to the bridge slams open, revealing a furious, red-faced, Pamela Manson.

"Samantha Faith Manson!" she shrieks.

::Your middle name is Faith?:: Danny asks, watching the mother in horror.

::You are never to say it,:: she growls back.

::Absolutely not…Samantha Faith Manson.::

She elbows him, "Yeah, Mom?"

"You're planning to stay behind?!"

"Yeah," she shrugs.

The flustered matron steps forward, taking her daughter by the shoulders and pulling her to a more private corner of the room, "Sammykins, you can't be serious!"

"I am," she retorts, pulling out of her manicured grasp, "There are a lot of other people who should be off this boat instead of me. I can handle myself!"

"Is he staying behind?"

"Of course," she snorts, "If we had to leave only one person behind, he'd volunteer for that position and you couldn't leave someone else behind without killing him first."

"I know you…you…" she takes a deep breath, "…I know you love him, Sweetie, but…isn't this a bit far?"

"So who do you want to kick off of the boats?" Sam growls.

"I'm sure that someone else will volunteer to stay behind…"

"Someone who knows how to fight? How to fire a weapon? Who's been in situations like this before?!" she stamps her foot.

"That one time in the Ghost Zone, and you're an expert in survival?!"

"Danny, Tuck and I have been hunting ghosts for years!" Sam shouts, "You think we haven't been kidnapped, used as hostages, stranded, or a whole host of other predicaments before?! Danny has a mortal enemy, for crying out loud! Several ghosts are vying for the position, now that Plasmius is lost in space!"

Jeremy Manson slips through the door, sidling up to Danny. They both watch the two women for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Danny," he states quietly, "Pam…she's just worried."

"I'd be siding with her, if I thought it'd change Sam's mind," Danny whispers, "But she's right; she's more used to situations like this than most on the ship. Besides, it'll be nice to have someone who knows…"

"…that's you're Danny Phantom?" Jeremy mutters, audible only to the halfa.

Danny's eyes grow wide, and his head slowly swivels to the older man, his lips parting slightly.

"Fenton and Phantom," he snorts, "…Amity Park is full of idiots."

"It's just hard to see what contradicts everything you know," Danny replies softly, "Danny Fenton's a quiet, clumsy, cowardly weakling with odd parents. Just your average, awkward teen boy."

"Not a hero."

"Not a ghost, either," green flicks through his irises, sending an icy shiver up Jeremy's spine.

"How…?"

"…may I talk to you somewhere else? They'll probably be at this for a while," he motions to the arguing pair, who've completely changed topic. Having started with the lifeboats, they've begun shouting about Sam's 'ridiculous rebellion phase' and Pam's desire to 'relive her youth' through her daughter.

"Let's head to the stern?"

"…opposite of the people preparing the lifeboats…" Danny muses, "sounds good."

They stride through the corridor in silence, their eyes contemplative. Each constructs what he plans to say. When they reach the stern, Danny leans on the railing with a deep breath, enjoying the sea breeze.

"It happened in the lab," he begins abruptly, "But…probably not the way you're thinking," he laughs, seeing Jeremy's horrified expression, "My parents didn't know about this until the field trip."

"So…" Jeremy joins him, taking a deep breath as well, "how did it happen?"

"Just before we started our freshman year, my parents completed the ghost portal. All of their work, their plans, their research…their life…was complete; but, when they plugged it in, it…it didn't work. They fell into a bit of a slump and just quit on it. One day, I took Sam and Tucker down to the lab, because they wanted to see it. I…I'm not supposed to bring people down to the lab, but…I couldn't tell them no when they begged and begged to see it. My parents were out, so…I thought it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look," he smirks.

"Did it?" Jeremy asks quietly.

"Yeah," he coughs, "…do you know what it's like to get shocked literally half to death?" he laughs, "Sam convinced me to go into the broken, empty portal. Unfortunately, while I was in there, I tripped on a wire and when I put my hand on the wall to steady myself…I heard something click. Everything just goes white there. All I can remember is the pain, and…I think I heard screaming, but…I'm not sure if it was mine, or someone else's…" his blue eyes have turned green, and his fingers clench, "I barely remember stumbling out of the portal and thinking that something was…wrong. Tucker had gone pale; Sam looked terrified, and ready to cry. I remember thinking that I had to be having a nightmare, because Sam doesn't cry. I didn't think she did, anyway, at the time. She ran over to me, and then the world went dark. I woke up in my room."

Jeremy's white-knuckled grip on the railing strengthens, his head bowed, "…she said that she was technically the reason you hunt ghosts," he whispers.

"It's true that without Sam, Danny Phantom wouldn't exist," he replies gently, "Trust me; I know. Desiree, the wishing ghost…one time, Sam and I had a fight, and she wished she'd never met me. Desiree heard her and made it come true. It's weird…I can remember what it's like to not know Sam. That version of me was terrified of ghosts. He was the Danny Fenton I pretend to be. Sam later wished that she'd never had that fight with me, reversing the whole incident. Of course," he smirks, "The whole story is a lot longer than that, but…that's for another time."

"…what was it like?" Jeremy asks, "Waking up to realize…?"

"Well," Danny relaxes, "As I said, I woke up in my room…"

-BREAK-

The space poster on the ceiling slowly fades into view. Dully, he can hear the shuffle of chairs against the floor, and muffled voices, as though he's underwater. Sam's face appears in his vision, followed by Tucker. His eyes screw shut with a groan as a ripple of pain travels up his spine, his hands fisting into the sheets. He feels as though the energy still travels along his nerves, causing his muscles to spasm.

"…anny? D…Danny?"

"Sam?" he manages to croak, "Tuck?"

"Do we need to call your parents?" Tucker asks, "I think you might need to go to the hospital..."

A wave of panic washes over him, and the world around him clears, "No!" he shouts, "They can't know I took you guys down there without permission!"

"Danny, you just got electrocuted!" Sam defends.

"And that's not all…" Tucker clears his throat, "There's, uh…" He shifts in his chair.

"There's what?" Danny asks, his eyes traveling along his body. He's still in the hazmat suit, on his bed. There's something wrong, beyond the tiny threads of pain, a chill deep in his chest…

"That," Tucker whispers hoarsely as a shining white ring appears around his friend's waist. Danny scrambles back on his bed, trying to escape it, but it expands, the colors of his suit inverting as each ring travels upward. The chill blossoms in his chest, and he floats upward briefly from his sheets. He looses a yelp, and falls heavily back to the mattress.

"I think you need to um…see it yourself," Sam points to the mirror against the wall, and he rushes over, his breath leaving him in one long rush. It barely feels as though it's his own face staring back at him. The reflection has silver-white hair, a faint glow around him, and green eyes that glow back.

"I…am I…" he whispers, his legs crumpling beneath him. Sam and Tucker rush over, taking his arms, "Am I…" his throat goes dry, "…a…g-g…" he takes a deep breath, "a ghost?"

The question hangs in the air, his voice barely audible despite the silence.

Sam's hands tremble, "I…you're not…" she swallows, "you're not…d…dead, Danny," she whispers, "I thought you were, because I couldn't find your pulse, but I…" a faint blush appears on her cheeks.

"She put her head to your chest, and she was finally able to hear your heartbeat," Tucker finishes for her.

"A-a-and your chest was moving; you were breathing," she adds, "You…you don't look like this all the time…"

"How long has it been?" he squeaks weakly.

"Four hours," Tucker replies softly.

"I…I don't understand…" Heat, raw fear, claws its way into his chest, and the bright rings appear again. He flinches, trying to escape them, but Sam and Tucker hold him in place. They phase through the two humans, and his white suit appears again. Blue eyes stare back from the mirror, behind black bangs.

"See?" Sam whispers, stroking his hair with shaking fingers, "Not all the time…"

"What…" he feels tears stinging at his eyes. He tries to blink them away – how can he cry in front of Sam?! – but they fall down his cheeks anyway, "What…am I?"

"We'll figure this out, Danny," She comforts, clutching him to her shoulder, "we'll never let anything happen to you…"

Tucker sniffs quietly, tears causing his own eyes to shine, "Never again…"

Danny breaks into quiet sobs, his tears soaking her shirt. The little shocks still travel to his fingertips, and they tighten around her arms until he feels himself suddenly become lighter, like a shell. He falls through her and the floor, the weight returning to him in just enough time to land on the dining table.

He groans, staring up at the bulb hanging from the kitchen ceiling. Footsteps slap on the floor, and his friends appear, breathless, in the entryway.

"Danny, are you okay?" Sam gasps.

"What…?"

"You did that earlier, too, when we tried to carry you up here," Tucker explains, "You went right through Sam's hands."

He sits up, massaging the back of his head, where he hit it on the table.

"I don't think my new look is the only thing we have to worry about," he chuckles forcefully.

"No," Tucker smiles in a similarly forced manner, "I don't think it is."

-BREAK-

"We focused on controlling my transformation up in my room. We figured that was the most obvious one…though I didn't want to fall through my floor again. I spent the next few months figuring them out. Of course, school started, and I was soon banned from handling anything fragile. I broke a ton of beakers, because I'd phase through them. I started fighting ghosts when I found them coming through my parent's portal, and they attacked Sam and Tucker. They were low-level, just some ecto-pi. One time, a few days after my first fight, they came back for revenge. We were in the lab with my dad," he laughs, "he turned his back for a few seconds, and the ghosts he'd been wanting to see all his life came from the portal. They grabbed Sam and Tucker, I beat them up and tossed them back into the portal…but I wouldn't say I was an official 'ghost hunter' until the incident with the Lunch Lady. At first, I only had your basic ghost powers: intangibility, invisibility, flight, overshadowing, heightened reflexes…but as time went on, I got my ghost rays, energy shields, ice powers, duplication – Vlad's specialty, it took me forever to learn it – and…The Wail. Now that I think about it…" he mutters, "Maybe it wasn't long after that I had to start feeding on emotions to supplement my diet…"

"Wait," Jeremy straightens, "Feeding…on emotions?"

Danny shrugs, "I'm half-ghost. Emotions are a ghost's energy. I got too powerful for my own emotions to feed me, so I have to feed on others a little. At least…that's what Frostbite theorizes. Vlad was miserable enough to sustain himself, but I'm overall happy. I have loving parents, an overall happy family, two best friends – one of whom is my girlfriend and I'm fairly certain she's also the love of my life – I save people on a regular basis, so my obsession gets fed–"

"Obsession?"

"Right," Danny laughs, "Not well-versed on the life of your average ectoplasmic being. All ghosts have one. Vlad's was possession – specifically of my mom – gained by power. The Lunch Lady's is the school menu, Skulker's is hunting, Ember's is fame, Desiree's is wishes, The Box Ghost's is…well, you get the point. Every ghost has an obsession, even halfas like Plasmius and myself. A ghost gains more power as they feed theirs, but they'll lose their sanity if they do so too much. In the case of a halfa…I could lose my humanity…" he swallows, "…like Vlad did. However, not feeding an obsession at all can warp you just as quickly. It's a tightrope," he snorts, "That's what my life is. I balance on a wire above everyone else. I'm ghost and human. I'm the courageous hero, and I'm the cowardly weakling. I have to feed my obsession, but not too much. Sam and Tucker…everyone I care about…they're my safety net. If they disappear…" his gaze becomes distant, the green in his eyes swirling in torment, "…if they disappear, and I fall…no, I will fall if they…" he swallows, "...If I fall, it's not a good thing, Mr. Manson," he whispers hoarsely, "trust me. If I lose them…I…humanity's screwed."

"…Danny?" he whispers, "What do you–"

He doesn't answer, instead phasing through the railing and vanishing from sight. A cool breeze blows past Jeremy's ear, and he stares out at the sea by himself.

"Sammy, you really know how to pick them, don't you?" he whispers sadly, "Your mother's right. You're doomed. Doomed to love him up to the day he dies a hero, leaving you behind. Doomed to wallow in your loss until you wish he'd never existed at all. That you never existed at all."

"…and that's what scares you," Sam whispers softly behind him, startling the older man.

"Sammy!" he gasps, "You shouldn't scare me like that!...where's your mother?"

"She's gone to your cabin to take some Aspirin and sleep off her headache," she snickers, "So…Danny tells me you've figured out the big secret."

"Did he fly to you after he vanished on me?"

"Doesn't need to," she smirks, noticing his confusion, "He didn't mention that part?"

"What part?"

"I'll tell you someday," she laughs, "I need to keep some secrets."

He raises his hands in surrender, "Honestly, I think I've gotten enough of secrets for the day."

"You've definitely chosen the big one. I suppose most of our other secrets are connected to it, though, so you didn't have much of a choice."

"Not really."

"…you're taking this pretty well," she comments, perplexed, "better than I expected."

"I've been thinking about it for a while," he whispers, "Besides, despite what you think, Sammy, I don't hate Danny. Not more than a father's supposed to by default, of course…" he smirks, "but I don't hate him."

"…you're different when mom's not around," she mutters.

"I love your mother to death, Sammy," he snorts, "Doesn't mean she doesn't drive me crazy sometimes. Actually," he laughs, "It's how I realized I was in love with her, I think. No one else could get under my skin, make me react the way she did. I think that arguing with her may have been the first time I ever raised my voice since I was young enough to throw tantrums."

"You…argue?" she blinks, surprised.

"Not so much anymore," he grins, "But when we first met? She dumped her coffee over my head – what she hadn't already spilled over the designer shirt I was demanding she replace."

"Now that I think about it…I never really learned the specifics of how you two met," she mutters, leaning against the railing beside him, "…is that weird?"

"Probably," he replies gently, "But it…what happened at the same time to your mother…she doesn't like talking about it. It's a major factor in the reason for her dislike of Danny, actually. It's not my place to tell you the details, but I'll tell you what I can, if you'd like."

"You know, Dad," she smiles, "I..I think I would."

A/N: Well, a late-day update, but..an update! How have you fared for two…almost three days without me? Quick notes on updates:

MAYBE: Sunday, Monday, Thursday, Friday. (May start a chapter on Thurs., finish and upload on Fri.?)

Definitely: (Well…almost definitely…) Tuesday, Wednesday

I learn my new schedule on Thursdays, so I'll try to update you on that.

Now for stuff relevant to the story:

I don't know Sam's middle name, but "Faith" just seemed to fit to me. Don't ask me why; it just did. I'm sure I could come up with some random, deeply-analytical reason if someone asked, but the truth is that it was just the first thing that came to mind. I like to trust my instincts when writing. It just feels like something her parents would choose. I could also see them choosing "Joy," or "Hope," but they don't flow as well as "Faith."

Also, I'm considering starting a forum topic about the J.O.S. continuum, to answer non-spoiler questions in-depth. The exact way the telepathy started, for instance. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to work in the specifics without sidetracking from the story too much…and answering other non-spoiler questions about the fic/s. I could also post updates on my schedule (and therefore the update-days) there as well. What do you guys think? Would that be of any use to you?