EPILOGUE

It was strange, to say in the least, being back. At a first glance, everything seemed to go on as normal.

Jocks ran through the halls throwing footballs, teachers looked the other way, cliques sashayed in and out of the locker rooms, batting their eyelashes and updating social media statuses, while nerds and subordinates scuttled beneath it all.

All in all- things seemed normal; just like any other morning at Casper High. And yet, there were a few key irregularities.

Danny walked into school, head ducked down and rigidly staring at the floor tiles like any other day, shoulders tense with the sole purpose of blending in.

Everything would be fine, if he just went unnoticed.

His fingers fidgeted clumsily as he unlocked his locker, resolutely trying not to hear the whispers of the student body as they passed behind him. Enhanced hearing doubled by his shaky nerves made that hard.

"Fenton's back-"

"- Did you hear about what happened with Dash-?"

"-Heard he almost died-"

Sometimes, no, often, Danny really hated High School. He slammed his locker door shut harder than intended and flinched at the bang that resulted; he turned and flinched harder when a very familiar chest bulged at eye level.

"Dash!" Danny nearly choked out, before instantly wondering, why is he here? Is he seriously about to find a locker to shove me in right now?

Contrary to what he was expecting, Dash looked almost nervous. The athlete took a look around worridley, as though he was worried he might be seen with the smaller teen.

That's different.

Suspicion washed over the smaller teen. "... Dash?" He repeated.

Dash's gaze snapped back to him before he cleared his throat.

He coughed and then swallowed, then coughed again; he looked vaguely like there was a frog in his mouth that he was fervently trying not to let slide down his esophagus.

"Uh, listen, Fenturd- uh, I mean, Fenton." Dash finally started, "Last week, I, uhm." Dash cleared his throat again; the frog must have made a run for it.

Dash regained composure and then, true to his football strategies, just plowed forward. "Look, I didn't mean to push you so hard. I didn't mean to- well, I mean, you know, it's kinda our thing." Dash said, pointing between Danny and himself rapidly, as though discussing a shared secret. "You know? It's just, like- we've been doing it for years and… Like, I never thought you'd… well, I mean, I knew you were sick, but I didn't mean to- and for you to… just, look, I'm sorry, okay?"

Danny blinked. "... Wait, what?"

Dash's expression soured, even as he paled two shades and forced more words out. "I'm sorry! Okay? I said it twice now, I didn't mean to send you to the hospital, Fenton! I can't- I mean, I shove you in lockers, push you around, but even I don't want you to be that hurt! The worst I've ever done is just- just a couple of bruises and…" Dash trailed off then, taking a breath and exhaling. He looked down. "Look, man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I just- I feel pretty cruddy and now everyone's talking about it-"

Danny leaned against his locker heavily, legs feeling weak from the absurdity of the situation. "... What?"

Dash opened his mouth again, more apologies on the tip of his frogless tongue; Danny waved a hand to cut him off. As Dash squirmed, Danny took a breath of his own, trying to figure out what on earth the jock was talking about.

"Okay, Dash," He finally said, "What'd you mean? Everyone's talking about what?"

Now Dash looked more confused than Danny was. The athlete's brows furrowed. "Uh… that I beat you up after you got sick from a ghost attack and that I sent you to the hospital?"

"... What?" Danny asked for the third time.

Dash sighed and shook his head. "Dude, everyone's talking about it. It was pretty obvious. Well… except to me, anyways. Look, I swear I had no idea, and like, I don't think I hit you any harder than I normally did. Y'know, at first, I thought I might've broken a rib or something, but then when everyone started talking, man- is it weird that I was relieved?" Dash asked, almost to himself, before continuing, "But, I wanted to let you know… just, I didn't mean to make it worse, and… I mean, you know everything goes out the window with ghost stuff. Gotta stick together and watch each other's backs and everything… so- I don't know, I didn't know, and I'm sorry, and I just… feel like a jerk." Dash looked down and away, crossing his beefy arms uncomfortably.

Thank the stars the hall had cleared out so that Danny could take all that in. A few moments of silence past as Danny worked it out.

Once all the dots connected in Danny's head, he didn't know where to begin.

"Uh, Dash," Danny finally tried, hoping to let him down easy, but not sure where to start. "Look, the thing is-"

"Look, I don't care if you forgive me or not," Dash cut him off, "I just wanted to say what I needed to say. Look, I'll lay off, but- dude, say something next time."

Danny opened his mouth, but Dash was already stalking away.

Danny watched in astonishment at his retreating back.

… Well, that happened.

He slowly turned around, dumbfounded, and walked to class.

…

If the whole run-in with Dash wasn't strange enough, the day somehow got even weirder.

Paulina and Starr showed up at lunch with freshly baked cookies from the student kitchen; they and several other girls began to fawn over Danny and ask about what had happened, occupying the normally empty seats at the trio's regular table.

"Oh, Danny, you're so brave," Paulina practically worshipped. "I can't believe you came to school after that ghost did- whatever they did."

"Yeah, we're all so glad you're okay. If you need anything, just let us know," Starr added, kindly.

Paulina offered him a cookie; Danny warily accepted it, the back of his neck creeping something awful.

"By the way," the girl's voice dipped silkily, "Did you see the ghost-boy at all? He didn't rescue you, did he?"

Sam, who had been fuming at all of this, brightened. "Ah, now I get it." She told her friends, triumphantly. She turned to address the group of girls surrounding their table. "Alright, sea-gals. Scuttle."

Paulina scoffed and tossed her hair; Star put her hands on her hips and glared.

Paulina then placed her hand over Danny's on the table. "What about what Danny wants?"

Danny choked on his cookie.

"Sam," Tucker hissed in the midst of Paulina whacking Danny's back, "Chill your socks."

Sam hissed right back, "They're obviously just using Danny to try and get more gossip! How can you not see it?!"

Tucker whispered back, affronted, "They baked us cookies, Sam!"

"Uh, guys," Danny coughed across from them. "It's, uh, it's okay."

Sam's mouth dropped open, betrayed. Tucker grabbed a cookie in celebration.

Danny coughed again, leaning away from the two ringleaders, cheeks reddening. "Uhm, look, everyone, I just want to clear things up, it- it really wasn't as crazy as everyone's making it out to be-"

"So humble," Starr praised.

Danny's cheeks burned more. "Okay," he tried again, voice slightly higher before he cleared it quickly. "I didn't go to the hospital because of some ghost-"

"We know, it was a ghost-disease from the attack. Dash told us." Paulina cut him off, inviting herself to sit atop the table. "How bad did it hurt? Oh- did you get any powers from it?"

Danny squirmed again, unsure how to answer. Any other time he probably would have killed to have so many girls interested in him. But this entire situation was weird and was starting to feel like one big, fat, weird lie. He didn't want these girls to add fuel to the fire, which was why he was trying to clear things up with the Casper High's hottest spreaders of gossip.

"Uh, I mean," Danny said, floundering, brain abuzz with horrible half-baked lies and truths he could word-vomit out to get the conversation under control.

Tucker had other ideas.

"IT WAS HORRIBLE! HE PUKED, uh, ECTO-BARF ALL OVER MY CARPET!" He practically screamed.

The girls all squealed in delight disgust accordingly; all questions turned then to Tucker, who swelled under the attention.

Sam looked at Danny expectantly; at his helpless shrug, she gave up and thumped her head down onto the table with a groan.

Watching Tucker recount a mostly true tale, Danny gave up.

In his life, there were rarely harmless lies, but maybe Tucker could have this one. Watching as Tucker preened like a peacock under the attention, Danny bit his lip to hide his laughter.

…

Bizarrely, and thankfully, his teachers were all understanding of his situation and vowed to work with him to extend assignments; they were pleasantly surprised (and shocked) when he presented said assignments and turned them in.

The amount of down time Danny had in the past week in bed was absolutely unfathomable. Ghosts had apparently taken a brief vacation. Danny had been given the gift of ample recovery and homework time. He had a sneaking suspicion that had to do with a certain older halfa, but for once, he wasn't complaining.

School concluded and he waved goodbye to his friends. He went home to his family, ate dinner, did his homework, and went to bed; this oddly calm cycle continued for the next few days as things started to wind down. Soon, he became yesterday's news and things returned to normal.

…

It was Friday night again. The trio spread across Tucker's living room once again. They'd stuffed themselves full of tacos at Danny's house before heading over to Tuck's for a movie.

Tucker's mother popped her head out of the kitchen door frame. "Kids, are you sure you don't want any of these brownies?"

Three green faces told her no.

They turned back to the movie they were watching; The Thing from Down Under… Earth! The Original Unedited Director's Cut.

All three of them squirmed every few minutes.

"... You know, it's weird, being back here after everything." Sam finally commented. "You know, with what happened last time."

Danny nodded, relieved that she understood. "Yeah. And it's been so… I don't know, mellow, lately? I keep waiting for something awful to happen." He commented, watching the female protagonist fall down an overwhelmingly long hole.

"I'm just waiting for Skulker to burst through the ceiling, you know?" Tucker replied, "You know, 'I am the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter! I'll have your pelt and make it into a rug and then hopefully my girlfriend will un-dump me.'"

They dissolved into cackles; a minute later, they warily looked up to the ceiling, wondering if they'd jinxed it.

Danny coughed. "Anyways, I'm pretty sure Vlad has been keeping everyone off my back, but I'm feeling better, so I'm guessing that can't be for too much longer."

His friends nodded in agreement.

Tucker scratched his arm contemplatively. "Dude, I'm not gonna lie. This is a weird truce you got going on. Not that I'm complaining. Am I complaining?" Tucker paused, before continuing, "No, yeah, it's weird."

Sam looked at them both seriously. "It's Vlad. I'm worried about his ulterior motive, but… for once I feel, and this is gross, but, I feel grateful towards the creep. We're insanely lucky you've had time to recover."

Danny nodded, troubled. "... Yeah. It's, uh, definitely a lot. … To take in, I mean…" he trailed off for a moment, looked a little over their shoulders.

… It was weird. So, so weird, and in the past week Danny had been torn between obsessing over it and resolutely ignoring it. Where did this leave them? How long would the truce last? Had Vlad changed? Would things go back to normal once the ghosts returned, or… were they still…?

"Danny?"

Danny focused back on his friends. "Sorry, zoned out," he shook his head. "Uh, where were we?"

Sam and Tucker looked concerned.

Danny's lips quirked, heartened at the sight. "Look guys, I'm weirded out too, and I don't have the answers."

Tucker blinked, slowly. "Is that- is that supposed to make us feel better?"

Danny laughed, a little too hard. "It's weird! This is weird, okay? I don't know what to do or what's going on, so-" Danny shrugged. "We're just going to have to wait and see."

Sam and Tucker exchanged looks. Sam looked at him intently. "Are you feeling okay?" She asked seriously; Danny remembered his promise of honesty.

He shook his head. "I am so stressed out about this."

Sam laughed then, surprised and snorting, and it was kind of almost perfect. Tucker joined in and then everything was.

…

Danny walked home alone. It was starting to get cold, and he shivered, wishing he'd been smart enough to bring a sweater or jacket.

It was dark out by now, and mosquitos hung by streetlights lazily. He rubbed his arms together, goosebumps kissing the hair on his skin, and looked up at the rising moon.

It was weird. All of it was so weird. There was so much to think about, to question. The Vlad thing, the fact that his body could get that sick from something so human, how everything was so maddeningly normal but different all because of one stupid organ that decided to clock out. The fact that he was okay after all of that, left with just the smallest scar by his belly button. The fact that he was so scared, no, terrified of being found out by everyone- that in the hospital bed, waking up, he'd been plotting his runaway plan, his worst case scenario.

He stopped walking, not really seeing the sky anymore.

His eyes burned against the cool night air. Talking with Sam and Tuck about it- really just skimming the surface, but talking, really talking- it brought things back, things he'd ignored in order to get over it and move on.

But he thought about it now, hesitantly.

He'd thought about running away.

He'd thought he was going to die.

He almost wanted to laugh, for many reasons. And then, because he could, he did; a desperate sort of huffing noise that lingered over his warm lips and was whisked away with a cold breeze.

He looked at the moon again, really looking at it, in almost a new light.

He wanted to land on it someday.

A shaky sigh brushed past his lips; he shivered again, and began walking home.

…

And then, he wasn't.

Turns out it wasn't that cold out after all.

He just caught glimpse of that familiar neon sign over his house when sudden movement behind him launched forward and knocked him down.

A gasp ripped through his throat before elbows and cheeks scraped against concrete sidewalk and he tasted blood.

Welp, at this rate, things were definitely getting back to normal.

He squirmed and yelped as a knee dug into his back muscles. "What the heck?" He gagged, straining his neck to see who had surprised him.

… Of course.

"Welcome back, whelp," Skulker grinned over him. He skillfully played with a butterfly knife, looking down at his prey mockingly. "Glad to see you haven't keeled over. Did you miss me, pup?"

Danny spat out some blood, tongue throbbing from where he'd bitten it. "About as much as I miss our talks," he supplied. "By the way, how is Ember? Haven't heard from her recentl-OW!" He cut off as Skulker dug his knee deeper into his back.

"Leave her out of this, whelp," Skulker grit out, knives halting.

"Feeling sensitive today?" Danny asked, before melting into the ground.

This, he could deal with.

Skulker scrambled into the ground after him and chased him back out after being momentarily blinded by glowing rings. Danny couldn't help but laugh as he stretched without pain and dodged knife after knife.

Despite everything, it felt kind of good to be back.

December 22, 2018

A/N:

YO,

Thanks to everyone who stuck with this story till the end. I feel absolutely giddy having completed something. ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!

Seriously though: avid readers, reviewers, anyone who was kind enough to pick this sucker up and give it a chance, thank you.

I feel like I'm writing into the void sometimes. This… interactions with readers and feeling excitement over my work and what you guys think of it, that's what makes everything worthwhile. That's the sauce.

I went through some of the hardest times of my life during the making of this story, and so I want to say thank you for waiting and roughing it with me through it.

I had a few ideas about the ending, even for a sequel, but after all we've been through, I think we deserve a happy ending, even if it's an open-ended one.

… This is surreal. I cannot believe we made it through.

Guys, one last time: review if you can, makes this whole thing feel so much better.

I don't want to make any promises I can't keep about sequels or honestly whether I'll publish something again. I have hundreds (somewhere around 300 at this moment in time) of stories started, hundreds of ideas, but that college life be busy and my own life has demands. But I'm open if true inspiration hits again.

To fellow writers: I want to try to create something original one day and this hellsite has given me the ability to hone my skill and read and learn so much. You guys help me so much and give me so much joy. From author to authors: thank you.

To reviewers and readers: Thank you, thank you, thank you, for your time and for your enjoyment. I hope you felt things reading this.

Everyone: We did it, we did it.

Thank you all.

hopeistheway