A/N: I'M ALIVE! I plan to update (hopefully) tomorrow (Monday), Tues, Wed, and MAYBE Friday.

Okay, so on the location of Amity Park…by dictates of the show…

It's not too far from Wisconsin (Bitter Reunions), borders enough water to have a legitimate port for trade (Pirate Radio), is closer to Florida (They started in Florida in "Reality Trip") than California, there are mountains (Girls' Night Out), but many hints about beaches and palm trees.

Overall, the geography seems kind of screwed…but I'm doing my best here. David Kaufman, voice actor for Danny Fenton, estimated it was in Minnesota, so I'm going with that. It was either that or I was putting it in Ohio. I'll trust the guy on the inside…

As always: Read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!

Chapter #13: Haunting Words

Kovich glares down at the tiny monitor in his hand, the green screen casting his features harshly, emphasizing the scar on his right cheek. His eyes dart around, and he keeps a hand on his ecto-gun.

"The ghost is on board," he growls quietly, "probably the one from last night."

"Makes sense," Burgess replies, "If he's haunting someone on board…"

Kovich grunts noncommittally.

Phantom…surely they don't mean that Phantom…right? He wonders, the one from the disasteroid incident…he haunts that city in Minnesota, doesn't he? Why would he…? He quickly summons the passenger manifest, not scanning the names, but rather their actual addresses, as they'd filled out in the paperwork.

"Amity Park…" he whispers, his eyes locking on the names, "Ida, Jeremy, Pamela, and Samantha Manson, as well as Daniel…" he frowns, "Daniel Fenton."

"Fenton?" Burgess halts, "The people who made the ghost tech we're carrying?"

"We have a few DALV weapons as well," Kovich replies, still scanning the names over and over, "before Masters revealed he was a ghost himself and was left in outer space…"

"What are you thinking, Captain?"

"…how much do you think we could sell the son of the world's top ghosts specialists for?"

"Depends on how much he knows," the Somalian shrugs, "if he knows his parents' tech well and what they're currently researching…it's his info that makes him valuable. He's not worth much by himself…"

"I don't know…" Kovich smirks, pulling up a picture , "I bet we could sell him to someone for a decent price. I happen to know a fine lady who likes black hair and blue eyes…she runs entire establishments on them."

"What if he's unruly?"

"She has some fighters in the local rings," the Russian shrugs, "But let's focus on getting all of our passengers first, shall we?" His eyes lock on again to the green blip on his screen, showing a ghost hovering far above in a three-dimensional model. It seems to watch for a moment – at least, that's what he presumes it's doing – before landing at the edge of his range and vanishing suddenly.

"Did it phase through the deck?" Burgess questions, leaning over the device.

"I guess so," Kovich replies, "Tell Ramirez that we've changed our plans. I don't think there's anyone up here. We're inspecting the lower decks," he pulls his quarter from his chest pocket, pressing it briefly to his lips. It's been more than twenty-five years since he'd acquired the small token, at an American military base in Brazil. It had saved his life.

He'd stolen it from his guard, after crushing the young man's trachea. The young soldier hadn't made a sound. He always flipped that quarter, creating silly bets with his brothers-in-arms over it. Kovich had watched the silver coin leap into the air, the sun glinting on its polished surface. He watched it for what felt like days. One day, while most of the other guards were absent, acting as security for some large event, the guard failed to catch the coin, and it rolled to the edge of the cell.

He didn't notice Kovich slipping from his bed until the Russian's large hands were wrapped around his throat. He couldn't call out, the only noise being the scraping of his boots against the concrete floor. Even that didn't last long. He took the coin with him, using it to navigate the maze of corridors. Somehow, he made it out safely.

He rubs the well-worn coin with a thumb and flips into the air.

"Heads, huh?" Burg smirks.

"Yeah," he grins, eyes lit with a cold light, "Let's go where My Lady dictates."

-BREAK-

::I can't use my ghost powers to sneak up on them, Sam,:: Danny frowns, ::They have portable radars. They must be really paranoid about ghosts.::

::With good reason,:: she replies, ::You were sensing them all night, weren't you?::

::They're different somehow from the ones in Amity,:: he ponders, ::More…::

::Ghostly?:: she supplies.

::Yeah. They were more what people think ghosts are like, re-enacting the moments they died or something like that…the ghosts in Amity Park and the Ghost Zone…they aren't like that. They live lives of their own, really, they don't…:: he takes a deep breath, ::They don't remain in the one they lost. Not like that. Why…why do you think they're so different?::

::I don't know,:: she replies softly, ::But now isn't the time…::

::No,:: he agrees, ::It isn't.::

"Daniel?"

"Call me 'Danny', Mr. Manson," he corrects, "The Froot-Loop called me 'Daniel.'"

"The 'Froot-Loop'?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Vlad Masters," he snorts, "a seriously crazed-up Froot-Loop who wanted to kill my dad and marry my mom? Freed Vortex in order to make Amity think he could deliver rain during a drought? Unsealed Pariah Dark and then used two sixteen-year-olds to clean up the mess? Yeah," he grimaces, noticing Jeremy's shocked expression, "I don't like being called 'Daniel'."

"…and you elected that for mayor?" Al hisses.

"To be fair, you couldn't call that an election," Danny replies dryly, "He overshadowed everybody and made them tick the boxes. It's how he got everything. Vlad Masters didn't earn a single penny of his own – he probably could have, mind you. I hate to say anything good about him, but he was an excellent scientist. He knew everything from mechanical engineering and circuitry to biogenetics and paranormal science. He could've been well-off in his own right if he hadn't let his obsession destroy him."

"How could a ghost overshadow everyone?!"

"Duplication," he answers simply, "It was Vlad's specialty. Then again; he had a long time to practice, didn't he? He split himself enough times to overshadow each person going into a booth and then it was all a landslide from there."

"So ghosts can just…copy themselves?" Al gasps, his face pale.

"First of all, not all of them have that ability. Secondly, each clone reduces their power. If you clone yourself once, each clone is half as strong. If you make a third clone, each one has a third of your total power, and so on," he leans against the metal corridor, "So we won't ever be invaded by an army of clones, if that's what you're worried about."

"Two of the same ghost with half the usual power though…" Jeremy whispers, his eyes locked meaningfully with the teen, "…if they're powerful, being half power isn't going to matter much."

"If you're talking about Phantom, he has a hard time with duplication. He can only do it in a pinch. It…it doesn't happen often, much to his frustration," he growls, glaring down the hallway, "He's been trying to learn it for years now."

"Isn't he strong enough?" he asks gently.

"He hopes so," Danny whispers in return, "But he's scared. Afraid that someday, someone stronger will appear. He knows his power hasn't reached its limit, so why wouldn't he try to reach it?"

"How does he know that?" Jeremy takes a step forward, "How can he know that he can…?"

Fear flashes through the young man's eyes, and he turns away, "…it's a long story, and I don't feel like sharing it anyway."

You don't get it do you? I'm still here. I still exist. That means you still turn into me.