we I stared up at my ceiling. Yes, no, maybe so. The childhood rhyme ran in circles around my head. Yes, no, maybe so. Maybe I should pluck petals out of daisies, just to see if something else would give me the answers to my fucking questions. Talking to Tucker, talking to Jazz, nothing gave me what I wanted. I wanted someone to answer my questions for me. I wasn't going to get that and I knew better.

I could hear my parents making dinner for the three of us downstairs. Jazz and Tucker had gone out to the movies, which would make it the first real date they had since I had found out about their relationship. Since they had left, I had thought about crashing it a time or two but, then, it wouldn't seem like I was actually all that supportive and, honestly, fine, if they made each other happy. But if they broke up, I wasn't choosing between them and they were just going to have to deal with a fact that we were still on the same fucking team.

But I was just trying to distract myself. I was alone with my parents and I was thinking of only one thing. The truth. Telling them the truth. Every time they asked me about what happened to Sam and I, where I had gone, or every time I did something weird and I saw on their faces that they were thinking about it, I thought about how I was lying to them. I had promised Sam the truth. Why didn't my parents get the same courtesy? They should. I knew that I loved Sam but I also knew that, in the grand scheme of things, at least right now, my parents should matter more.

I pushed myself off my bed and walked downstairs, taking every step and buying myself more time to change my mind. Honestly, though, hadn't I had my mind made up since leaving the cell? It had just taken me this long to realize what I had already decided. I peeked around the kitchen. Mom had an ecto-gun on the kitchen table, tinkering with it, while Dad was making dinner. I cleared my throat as I sauntered in.

"No food for a while," Dad confessed. "We just got started."

"I'm not hungry," I said, sticking my hands in my pockets. "Um, can I talk to you about something?"

"Anything, Danny, you know that." Mom put her screwdriver down and the fact that I had her whole attention was intimidating. "What's going on?"

"I need to tell you the truth," I said. "The real truth. I've been lying to you for a long time."

Dad moved the pot of potatoes onto a cold burner. I sat at the kitchen table next to my mom, wondering if it would be my last time sitting here. Were they going to kick me out? I didn't actually know what was going to happen to me.

"Lying to us about what?"

"Since I was fourteen," I said, knowing that it wasn't the question that Dad asked but knowing that it was where I had to start. "I'm sorry. I thought I had to."

Mom and Dad glanced at each other. "Danny, what's going on?"

"I'm … I'm …" but I couldn't get those two words out. I'm … a ghost. I'm … Danny Phantom. I'm … a hero. I'm … your son. I had so many options but absolutely nothing to fucking say. "I'm … at fault."

Not what I meant but I didn't know what I was doing. I should have rehearsed a script or something.

"For what?"

"Jazz, Tucker, the kidnapping. It was all about me."

"Why would you think that? You were a victim," Mom said.

"I was but … I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I'm not just who you think I am. I'm still Danny. I'm still who I always was but there's … another part of me. Someone that I was scared to let you meet because I didn't know what to say to you about it. I don't mean to make it sound like he and I aren't the same person because I know how you'll take that. I know what that will mean to you, but we are. I am me, in both bodies, in any scenario, it's just me. There's no one else in my head. I know you're going to ask that question. I'm not possessed."

"Danny, just tell us," Mom instructed.

"My name is Danny Phantom."

Mom's head picked up at the words but Dad just stared at Mom, like she would know, like she would have the answers. I couldn't blame him for that. If I were lost and confused, it would be Mom I looked to too.

"Daniel Jack Fenton –"

"I'm not lying!" I said, interrupting my mother. "This isn't a game! This isn't funny to me! I have enemies. Enemies that targeted Sam, Jazz, and Tucker. I am the reason for this! It's me. I have to live with that. I have to watch Jazz try to walk and listen to Tucker try to talk and try not to look at Sam at all because I can't hurt her again and I tried not to tell you any o that because I … I didn't want you to have to live with it too. I didn't want you to hate me or turn me away because I couldn't do it without you but I thought I was strong enough to not have to drag you into this but I'm not as stupid as I was when I was younger. I need you. I need you to believe me. I need you to love me."

Had I ever thought I would need to beg for that? No. I'd always been convinced my parents loved me. I'd also always been convinced that telling them was the thing that would make or break that love.

"I don't understand," Dad said. "That's a ghost. You're not dead. We've watched you grow up. That wouldn't happen to a ghost."

"There's something …" I took a deep breath. "So, when I was fourteen, Tuck and I fixed your ghost portal. Remember how proud you were of me?"

I managed to put a weak smile on my face.

"We remember," Mom said. "We were very impressed. We never figured out how you managed it."

"I died." I stared down at the table. I couldn't watch their expressions change as they understood. "I was in the portal when it turned on and I died … but I didn't, at the same time. There's something that exists in the in-between. Not completely dead. Not completely alive. I was the second one to ever exist. And, I thought, I could use my powers. I could be a hero. That was all that I wanted. That was all I wanted, you know. I could switch back and forth between looks and no one had to know that Danny Fenton was behind it all. It never went like planned. It took me a long time to understand how to be a ghost and if it weren't for Jazz and Tucker helping me out, I wouldn't have been able to understand the other ghosts as well as I did."

"Jazz knew?" Mom asked.

"If it helps, she was always the biggest supporter of telling you the truth," I said. I didn't want to drag my sister down with me. "I always had good intentions. It didn't always work out like that for me but I always tried to have the best of intentions. I tried to be good. Um, I figured out how to help ghosts pass on and so I started doing that. The, um, the other halfa, he didn't like that so much. He had plans for them and me. Bad all around. And, so, to keep me from helping other people, he beat Jazz up. But it was too late, almost, and he realized that to keep me from really doing that, he'd have to lock me up. Tucker walked in on him trying to kidnap me and so he tried to kill Tucker too. Sam was taken to keep me in line. Every time I moved the wrong way or tried to use my powers, I'd electrocute her. I could have killed her. It kept me in line. He almost won. If it hadn't been for other ghosts and Sam, he would have won."

"Who is this other halfa?"

My eyes flashed and I glared at my father's face. "You don't need to worry about him. I took care of it."

"This is … almost unbelievable," Mom murmured.

"I can prove it."

"How?"

I put my hands up on the table in front of me. It took no effort to summon the familiar rings that spread around my body, transforming my humanity into something paranormal. Mom's gasp of horror rang around my ears while Dad grabbed for the ecto-gun she'd been trying to repair. Quickly, I switched back, crying out, "It's me! It's still me!"

Mom shook her head. "Go upstairs."

"What? I –"

"Danny, this is a lot," she said firmly. "Please, stay in your room."

I knew that voice. Shakily, I stood from the table.

"I'm just me," I said. "Please, don't kick me out, don't hate me. I'd rather anything else than to be thrown out. I'd rather be dead."

My last words said, I shuffled back up the stairs, unsure of whether or not I'd ended up making a mistake. I guessed I'd know when they summoned me back downstairs to face what their jury had decided. I curled up on my bed. I could go and get Jazz and Tucker. I could be there and back before Mom and Dad had even realized I was gone, probably, but I stayed rooted to the spot. They would be home sooner rather than later. They might as well have some peace, even while I didn't.

In the middle of my self-hatred spiral, my phone dinged.

Sam: Hi

Me: hey. How are you?

I hoped she wanted to talk about tulips. Something totally different from what I was feeling.

Sam: not good.

Well, shit. What was not good? Not good like she was being hunted by ghosts or not good like she'd changed her mind and hated me again?

Me: What's happening?

Sam: When do you think we'll forget about what happened in there?

I'd rather it be ghosts than the cell.

Me: total honesty?

Sam: that's what you promised me

I should've seen that coming. With a heavy heart, I typed out 'never'. What had happened had been so bad that I couldn't imagine a future where we didn't revisit it. It was like the pervy old uncle that mom made you talk to at Christmas – unwelcome and unescapable.

Sam: fuck.

Me: I know that it'll get better

Sam: I wish it was better now.

Sam: The world is not wish granting factory.

Me: Have you read The Fault In Our Stars?

Shit. Well, did I tell her the truth? I had promised not to lie to her anymore.

Me: AUGUSTUS WATERS DID NOT DESERVE TO DIE

Sam: omg. I thought you didn't read

Me: Jazz has the audiobook and since it's her favourite, I gave it a listen.

Me: and I cried

Me: I cried over a fictional character.

I'd listened to it in the middle of the night, when there were nightmares but I felt too bad about waking up Jazz. It had been comforting to have going off in my ears. It had made me feel like there was another person there. And, honestly, the pain of the characters was much easier to deal with than my own pain.

Sam: Augustus Waters has that effect on people

Me: nah, it wasn't Augustus … Well kinda

Sam: what do you mean?

Me: I cried over Isaac

Sam: why?

Me: idk. The way Isaac loved Augustus and looked at Augustus just reminded me of Tuck

Sam: and you're augustus in this scenario

Me: only if you're Hazel

Me: jk … mostly

Me: anyway, Isaac just showed such love and devotion I mean the thing with the robot eyes? Come on!

Sam: but then he said he'd put them in anyway

Me: I don't think he would, honestly.

Sam: why?

Me: I wouldn't.

Me: but maybe that's just because I have freaky ghost powers and I need a challenge

Sam: hilarious.

Me: feeling a bit better?

Sam: yeah, thanks. Um, I should go find Leslie but text me in the morning?

Me: absolutely I will. Text again if you need me.

Sam: :-)

Me: :-)

No matter what, at least, I felt better after a conversation with Sam. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to count down the minutes to when my parents would come and get me or Jazz and Tucker would be home. To my surprise, Sam reappeared first.

Sam: I lied; I want to talk again now. Are you still awake?

Me: Lying is a bad habit

Sam: forgive me? :-)

Me: Just this once

If she could forgive me for everything, I could do the same for her.

So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about Superman or the Reflections Universe, go to my tumblr URL and add backslash tagged backslash reflections dash universe. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.

~TLL~