Special thanks to Devilsummoner666 for making me realize that I didn't know what to do with Levi beyond shoving him in the Fenton Thermos.
This was originally going to be the last chapter, but I realized that there was a key element that I forgot to include. Instead of trying to cram it in there, I've decided to put it into an epilogue, so expect that at some point.
Chapter Five: What I Have
"Sometimes the best part of my job is that the chair swivels." - Unknown
The flight back home is uneventful, and I'm glad. No matter what's going on in my head, a trip through the skies always manages to calm me down. There's just something so freeing about being in the open air. The sun is setting, bathing my surroundings in beautiful reds and pinks and golds. Yep, most people can't get a view like this unless they fork over the cash for a plane ticket.
Once I'm back in Amity Park, I let my tail reform into legs, my speed slowing a little as a result. I fly a little lower until I'm just over the rooftops. As much as I want to go home, I want to get my evening patrol in as well. I need to make sure everyone's safe and happy. It's kind of my self-appointed duty.
Though my fellow citizens are used to seeing me in the air, they like to point me out anyway. It kind of amuses me since I should be just another boring sight by now. Still, it's nice to hear things like "Hey, it's Danny Phantom!" and "Keep up the good work, Phantom!" People want and appreciate me despite their fears of what I can do.
It took being half-dead to make me feel truly alive. The irony is not lost on me.
Then, I hear a voice I've known since first grade. "Hi, Phantom!" The voice belongs to Sam Manson, goth girl and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian-recently-turned-vegan.
The black self-proclaimed techno-geek with her is Tucker Foley, whom I met back in kindergarten. "Yo, Phantom!"
My best friends are perched on their bikes, waving at me. If there weren't witnesses, I would just descend and fill them in on what happened in Nebraska. Instead, I simply wave back as I would for anyone who offered me a kind greeting. Then, I fly into the ally beside them, see no one but them looking, and change back into a human.
When I walk up to them, Tucker says to me, "Dude, we weren't expecting you back until tomorrow."
"So, how'd it go?" Sam asks.
I nod toward the alley, and they follow me back there, wheeling their bikes with them and leaning them against the wall. Once they take off their helmets and hang them from the handlebars, I tell them about Nebraska, keeping my voice down even though there are few people on the street. I tell them how accepting Mira's parents were of her, and I ignore the pang in my chest while doing so. When I get to the part about what Levi did, Tucker looks horrified and Sam looks like she wants to pull Levi out of the Thermos and beat him to a pulp.
"So, what are you gonna do with Levi?" she demands. "He murdered an innocent girl! You're not just gonna throw him back into the Ghost Zone and let him roam free, are you?"
Oh, I actually hadn't thought of that. "To be honest, my main priority was getting him away from Mira."
Sam puts her hands on her hips and scowls at me. "Well, we have to do something. Otherwise, what's stopping him from coming back for her?"
"It's too bad we can't turn him over to Walker without turning you over as well," Tucker says, pointing at me.
Walker works at a massive prison in the Ghost Zone. When I say he works there, I mean that he is the warden, judge, jury, jailer, and in his own words, "if necessary, your executioner." He really, really likes his job, and he also really, really hates my guts. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't think twice about bringing Levi to him. As a former resident of that prison, I can think of no better punishment.
Hm… "I could do what they do in movies," I decide, "and call in an anonymous tip."
"You think that would be enough?" Sam asks.
Tucker gives her a side-eye. "It's Walker. He'd arrest you for breathing the wrong way."
"Good point. Anything else?"
Yeah, Mira's parents want me to live with them because they think I'll be safer and they're kind of right. No way am I bringing that up. My friends will only worry. I put my hands in my pockets and shrug, feigning nonchalance until the inevitable fallout from what I'm about to say. "Not really. I told them about ghost stuff, revealed my secret identity, we all had dinner-"
"Wait," Tucker interrupts. "What was that?"
And, here it comes. "I told them about ghost stuff?"
"No, the other thing."
"We all had dinner?"
Sam facepalms, knowing that I'm stalling. "No! In. The. Middle."
I laugh sheepishly. "Yeah, they kind of know I'm half-ghost. Look," I say before anyone can argue, "they heard Levi call me a half-ghost And, considering how cool they were about their kid being all-ghost, I figured I could trust them." Sam and Tucker exchange unsure looks. I duck my head, a little ashamed. These guys have been by my side for my entire pseudo-afterlife. I should have consulted with them first. "Are you mad?"
"Mad?" Sam repeats, sounding more confused than angry.
I raise my head to find that neither of them looks mad at all.
"It's your secret, dude," Tucker says with a reassuring smile. "You do what you want with it. If you trust those guys, then so do we."
Sam narrows her eyes and rests a fist on her hip. "But, if they break that trust, Mira's not gonna be the only ghost in Nebraska."
I love these guys.
We say our goodbyes, and I switch back to ghost-form and take flight once more. Seeing my best friends only solidifies why I could never just abandon my town. Maybe not everyone in it is friendly toward me, be it Fenton or Phantom, but I still have plenty of reasons to stay.
It doesn't take long for my ghost sense to go off, reminding me of one of those reasons. I hear faint screams and fly in that direction. The screams are coming from the park, where I can see people running away from a pale green ghost that can only be described as a flaming panther. The park is a mess of charred earth and broken equipment. The ghoul roars as I descend, staying slightly above the ground.
"Hey, where's the fire?" I quip. "Oh, there it is."
I fire off a ghost ray. The panther isn't paying attention, and my attack is a direct hit. The panther cries out in pain but stays upright. It's paying attention now.
It runs toward me, baring its sharp, jagged teeth. I lower my hands and send a wave of ice over its path. This was a gamble, but the panther loses its footing and slides on its stomach despite the flames surrounding it.
"I see you never learned your type match-ups," I say, pulling out my Thermos. "Not that I'm complaining." As the panther slides my way, practically doing my work for me, I suck it into the Thermos. "Looks like you got a cat after all, Levi," I add just to amuse myself.
Now that the ghoul's been dealt with, I put the Thermos away and survey the damage the ghoul caused. Somehow nothing is on fire, but the smell of burnt grass lingers. The monkey bars are bent into oblivion. The slide has completely collapsed. The swingset is split in half with one of the seats separate from its chains and lodged into a tree. I flinch when the merry-go-round falls from another tree.
Guilt overwhelms the joyful thrumming of my core. I know none of this destruction was my fault, but I can't help feeling responsible. If I had just waited to fill my friends in on my exploits, maybe I could have gotten here soon enough to stop this destruction from happening. No one is around, so everyone must have gotten away. I take some comfort in knowing that no one was hurt too badly.
My fault or not, I should still try to clean up the mess. At least a little-
Something blasts me in the ass, sending white-hot pain up my spine. I turn around and, because I truly do have that kind of luck, my jumpsuit-clad parents are there.
"I got him!" Dad cheers, still holding the Fenton Bazooka. "Look, Maddie. I actually hit him this time!"
"Great job, hun!" Mom praises. Then, she glares daggers at me and pulls something real small out of her pocket. "Now, for the Fenton Smoker."
The what? Unfamiliar inventions are the worst kind. I shoot into the air, but whatever Mom threw at me fits my foot. Suddenly, bitter-smelling purple-gray smoke is all around me-
Speckles coat my vision. I'm lying flat on my back in the singed grass before I know it. Did the fall hurt? I can't tell. Everything's fuzzy.
"Works like a dream," Mom says. She sounds echo-y and far away even though she and Dad are now right in front of my prone form
I feel a warm tickle around my waist. Those rings are trying to form, to turn me back into a human because the smoke was that bad. But, all I feel is a tickle. No rings appear. On one hand, I really don't want my parents to find out about me this way. On the other hand, the fact that the smoke won't even let me do something as simple as transforming is very, very bad.
"Don't bother trying anything," Dad boasts, the Bazooka perched over his shoulder now that I'm no longer a threat. "The Fenton Smoker renders your ghost powers useless."
And, makes me feel too heavy to move around much. At least my vision is clearing up, and nothing sounds like the inside of a tunnel anymore.
"First, you bring your electric friend around," Mom snarls. "Now, you're endangering innocent children." I don't notice the Fenton Fishing Wire coiled at her belt until she unwinds it. "Oh, just wait til we get you to the lab."
Dad pumps a fist. "I can't wait to slice you open and dig around in your insides!" A wave of nausea hits me. Even Mom raises an eyebrow at Dad, who frowns. "Isn't that what we're doing?"
"Yes," Mom says, "but you don't have to say it like that."
I fight panic. I can't even cry out for help because my throat is numb. They're going to tie me up and take me to the lab and - shiver - dig around inside me over something I didn't even do! I should have known this would happen whether they knew the truth or not. Why didn't I stay in Nebraska? Why did I have to come home so soon? I'm slowly regaining feeling in my limbs, but not enough to get away when Mom bends down to tie me up in that wire that I can't phase through-
Out of nowhere, my parents lurch to the side. Two other figures tumble over them. Two bicycles fall in the grass. I lift my head enough to see what in God's name just happened.
"Uh, sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton," Tucker says.
"We lost control of our bikes," Sam adds.
Gratitude floods me. My friends must have been passing by, saw what was happening, and "lost control of their bikes" in exactly the right place. Better yet, Mom and Dad are facing away from me on the ground. My friends look over their shoulders at me and wave for me to get away.
I smile my thanks and try switching forms. Heat coats my body, and my coloring changes. I nearly weep with relief. Whatever was in the Fenton Smoker - definitely something to watch out for - wears off enough that I can move again. I still feel a little murky, but at least I can function. I turn invisible, climb to my feet, and watch guiltily as everyone stands up and my parents lecture my friends about bike safety and not disturbing people when they're trying to capture ghosts. Sam and Tucker bow their heads and act remorseful, but I know they only feel a little bad.
I couldn't ask for better friends.
Mom and Dad see that I'm supposedly gone and return to the GAV, muttering about how the Fenton Smoker's effects should have lasted at least an hour. I guess the Fishing Wire was meant as a precaution. Once my parents drive off, Sam and Tucker collect their bikes and jump when I appear in front of them.
"Thanks, guys," I say. "You okay after that?"
"Just a little scuffed up," Tucker says dismissively. "No big deal."
"Are you okay, Danny?" Sam asks.
Not really. "Yeah," I say instead. "A little groggy from whatever they used to disable me, but I'm good."
After we confirm that I am physically fine, my friends ride off, leaving me alone in the park. I go ghost once again and busy myself with fixing the equipment as well as I can with ghost powers and no knowledge of construction. In other words, all I can really do is right the merry-go-round and bend the monkey bars back into shape. At least the manual labor is keeping me from screaming.
Andrew and Natalie's conversation rolls through my mind. I wouldn't have to put up with shit like this in Nebraska-
My frustration causes me to snap the beam I'd been bending. I groan and give up on fixing the place. Leave that to the people who know what they're doing.
I retreat to the sky and try to calm my racing heart. It's not like my parents have never cornered me before, so why does this feel so different? I groan louder when the answer comes to me. It's different because of the Scotts, because I've had a taste of what life would be like if my parents didn't hate ghosts so much.
I want to Ghostly Wail into the heavens, but I reign it in. I need to stop thinking like this. I have Tucker, Sam, and Jazz backing me, and I could never begrudge my parents for who they are. Despite everything, I love them too much to turn my back on them.
I descend behind my house and change back into human-form before coming in through the front door. The living room is empty, but I hear voices coming from the kitchen.
"Do you think it was a side-effect of the Smoker?" Mom asks. "Or, some power we aren't familiar with?"
"It's Phantom," Dad responds. "A ghost like that probably has all kinds of secrets."
He has no idea. I force my legs to carry me into the kitchen.
"True," Mom agrees. She is leaning against the counter while Dad sits at the table, tinkering with some machine. Jazz sits next to him, trying to look bored though her face is pale. "I mean, look how quickly he recovered from the Smoker. And, we've never seen his eyes do that before. It can't mean anything good."
My eyes? What did my eyes do? Come to think of it, didn't Mira mention something about my eyes?
Jazz finally speaks. "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing serious- Danny!"
Busted. All eyes are me as I stand here and try not to look as uncomfortable as I feel.
"Danny!" Mom is the first to reach me. She cups my face and kisses my forehead. "We thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow. Are you okay?"
Dad hooks me in a side-hug. "I thought you said you were spending the night with your friend's parents. You could have called if you changed your mind."
Jazz says nothing as she takes my hand, though like our parents, she oozes concern.
Less than an hour ago, Mom and Dad had drugged me and were geared up to cut me open. Now, they're hugging me and kissing me because they think the death of a friend is the reason I'm so upset.
All my pent-up emotions rush over me. I wrap my arms around my torso as that lump returns to my throat, so much harder to swallow now. My chin quivers, and I blink against the heavy moisture in my eyes.
"Oh, don't fight it, sweetie," Mom coos, one hand still cupping my cheek. "Just let it out."
Dad's arm tightens around me. "Hey, I know what'll take your mind off things. Why don't you come down to the lab with me? You can watch me work and listen to me blather on about ghosts."
I burst into tears.
After I calmed down, I told everyone how nice Mira's parents were and that dropped me off because I really wanted to come home. Mom and Dad bought it because they didn't have a reason not to. They were just happy to hear that I wasn't alone in my grief. Jazz, of course, knew there was more to it, but she went along with it.
Eventually, I said I was tired and wanted to go to bed early. What I actually did was sneak down to the lab and into the Ghost Portal.
I didn't empty the Thermos until I was near Walker's Prison. The panther ghost ran off somewhere, but Levi wasn't quite as lucky. The anonymous tip worked better and faster than I expected. I stayed good and hidden when I saw Walker himself approach Levi and confirm his identity.
"I just received an anonymous tip about you," Walker said. He opened that book he's always carrying. "First degree murder is against the rules."
Because everyone knows who Walker is, Levi panicked and muttered something about calling his lawyer before trying to flee.
But, Walker grabbed him by the arm and said with his trademark sinister smirk, "And now, you're resisting arrest. Also against the rules. Buddy, you and I are going to have a long, long talk."
I returned to Earth, confident that we wouldn't be hearing from Levi any time soon.
Now, I find Jazz sitting on my bed. I knew she'd grill me when I got back.
"You didn't have to wait for me," I say meekly.
"Sure I did," she responds with a sweet smile. She pats the spot next to her, and I sit down. "You wanna tell me what happened today?"
I tell her about today's adventure, and she listens patiently. When I get to part about Levi, she gasps in horror but is pacified when I add that I'd just finished turning him over to Walker. When I say that the Scotts know my secret, she says pretty much what Tucker told me: she trusts them if I do.
"There's something else, isn't there?" Jazz asks when I finish.
"No, that's it," I say, hoping she doesn't notice how tense I've become.
But, she's known me since I was born, so of course, she notices. "Danny, Dad said you were crying on the phone." When I keep staring at my lap, she adds, "I didn't tell Sam and Tucker. I wasn't sure if you'd want me to."
I figured as much. My friends would have mentioned it if she had. I shrug, not sure if I want them to know either. I wouldn't normally keep secrets from those two, but…some things are a little too private. It's not like this really concerns them, anyway.
Jazz wraps an arm around me and pulls me against her side. I fight the desire to lean my head against her shoulder like when we were kids. "I'm not gonna make you talk," she says, "but you know that you can if you want to."
Emotion rolls over me, and I lean my head against hers. I'm too tall now to do the old shoulder thing. "They wanted me to live with them." I regret the words as soon as they fall out of me.
"What?" Jazz says, stiffening against me.
My sigh is a breath away from a sob. I straighten up and shake her off, suddenly feeling undeserving of her touch. I stare down at my lap again. "I kind of mentioned that Mom and Dad are ghost hunters. I heard Mira's parents talking about it. They think I'm unsafe here." My voice breaks. "I mean, I guess I am, but…" I grunt and run my hands over my face. "I don't get it, Jazz. They're so…accepting! Mira's their daughter, so that makes sense, but me? They'd never even met me before today. Mira's a ghost, I'm half-ghost, and they don't care! I was in ghost-form most of the time, but they treated me like a person, and," I wipe away a tear that escaped, "and it was nice."
"That's why you were so upset," Jazz says softly.
My fingers dig into my bedspread. "At one point…Mira and I…" I squeeze my eyes shut. "I thought of her as my sister."
I don't how I expect my real sister to react to the admission. It's a relief to get all of that out of me, but guilt burns my chest.
"I'm not mad, if that's what you're worried about," Jazz assures. She rests a hand on my shoulder. "Hey." I glance at her to see that that sweet smile has returned. "You came home, didn't you? That means something." I just shrug. "It does, Danny. Look, I'm not gonna pretend that our family is perfect, but at least we all love each other. That's what matters."
"Mom and Dad only love half of me," I argue.
"And, that half is endlessly loved. And, if they knew about that other half, they would love him, too."
I narrow my eyes. "Really? You're certain? You can look me in the eye and say that you are one hundred percent certain that they would love me just as much if they knew both Danny's were the same person?"
Jazz bites her lip with an expression I can't read. "Uh, maybe not one hundred percent…"
Not even close to that, I know. "Well, thanks for being honest."
"Danny." She kisses my forehead and wraps her arms around me. "Our family isn't perfect, but it's our family. And, I'm glad you came back to it."
She's right; our family isn't perfect. Mom and Dad are clueless at best, dangerous at worst, but it isn't intentional. And of course, I have my big sister looking out for me. At the end of the day, we Fentons have each other's backs. Maybe someday I'll bite the bullet and tell Mom and Dad who Danny Phantom really is, or maybe I'll never work up the courage. Either way, Danny Fenton is a pretty lucky guy, overall.
I return Jazz's embrace. "I am, too."
