Chapter Twenty-Seven

CW: Depression, Death, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts

"Valerie?" Her name echoed through the room as he stared, trying to see past the candles into the dim space, barely understanding her as she spoke for a minute. He could always see easily in the dark as a ghost, but his eyes struggled to adapt to the bright flames and the room beyond the circle of candles surrounding him. "Are we in my room?"

"It seemed like the best place to do this," she said. "You're supposed to do it somewhere the ghost has a strong emotional connection to if you can. But, um, you didn't answer my question. Do they like not let you wear real clothes?"

He glanced down at himself, his brain still foggy from being in the rehabilitation chamber, and felt a weird compulsion to answer her directly that he hadn't felt the last time he was in a circle like this. He suspected if he tried to leave, too, he wouldn't be able to, or at least not without her permission. Crud. "No, they do, I just needed surgery and they have this–"

"-surgery?!" she interrupted, and he winced. "Wait, what happened?"

"Vlad shot me, obviously," he said, tapping his chest and feeling an echo of it reverberate in the room around him, a hint of an impression, although he realized as he said it that she might not actually know how he almost died. He worried about having to go into a long explanation, but as he watched Val looked completely unsurprised. "It damaged my core, so I had to get it healed, and, um, hang on." He paused, going intangible to let the fluid from the tank fall off him and onto the circle around him. "Sorry. I just didn't want to be wet anymore."

"That's a pretty cool trick. It'd be nice if I could do that," she said. "Do you know how long it takes my hair to dry?"

"No."

She blinked. "You know that wasn't a serious question, right?"

"Yeah, but–I don't think I'm getting a choice about answering your questions right now."

"Oh, nooo, Danny, I didn't—I'm sorry," she stuttered. "You don't have to answer every question, okay? If you don't want to." The weight pressing down on his chest vanished, then, and if he could breathe, he would.

"It's okay, well, no, it's not, but it doesn't matter. How did you summon me? Did something happen to you? Are you a liminal now? And, I . . . do you know? About me, from–y'know? Before? About what I was and, um, who?" He knew he didn't look the same outside the Hazmat suit, and Danny still didn't know if the surgery succeeded, but given how easily he used his powers a second ago he felt pretty optimistic about at least his core being healed. Whether his human half was there, though, was less clear, and so far he hadn't managed to work up the courage to check.

"I know about you. I–I was mad, y'know," she said slowly, staring off. "That you didn't tell me, that you never trusted me, that you dated me and lied to me and I . . ." She stopped, shaking her head. "But more than that, I hate that you didn't tell me because I could've hurt you, Danny, even though I . . . on the one hand, I get it. Why you didn't say anything to me or anyone else, and I'm sorry, too. That you–about everything I did, that you felt like you couldn't trust me. About how we must've made you feel. Your parents and sister know, too. And Sam and Tucker. But we didn't tell anyone else."

"It's okay," he said, despite not being entirely sure how much it was, but he felt a tiny sense of relief that his secret was still somewhat intact. He wasn't sure he could deal with it if everyone in Amity Park suddenly knew exactly who and what he was, even if he still might be dead and it might not matter much. "But–Val . . . what about you? You still didn't say, but you summoned me and I couldn't refuse, which means that you–Did something happen?" He didn't want to ask if she almost died, his core twinging at the thought of her nearly being killed while he was gone.

"No, not like you're thinking. It's the suit, I guess," she said. "Your parents said something about how the tech makes me kind of liminal and has left me with low levels of ecto contamination, too. I don't really get it, but they must be at least a little right because you're here." She frowned, then. "Look, much as I like seeing you with a shirt off, did you want some clothes or something? Or can you make them appear?"

"Clothes would be awesome," he laughed, cheeks flushing as she scrambled to her feet and rummaged through his drawers. Watching her move awkwardly, he finally noticed her arm resting in a sling, and his chest ached again, realizing that she had definitely been hurt recently given the quality of the sling. "Val, what happened to your arm?"

"Ghost attack, what else?" she said, shrugging, and as he watched her in silence for a minute while she dug through his dresser, everything hit him at once. He missed his family and friends so much, and even seeing just Valerie made him ache, the realization of precisely what he'd lost so obvious now. In the Ghost Zone it was easy to forget in a way, to drift and pretend like maybe they were even better off without him, but now? She walked over and handed him one of his old NASA hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, her hand brushing against his for a moment, and then he couldn't help himself as he grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, careful not to put pressure on her arm.

She didn't fight it, instead simply leaning into it and holding him, her nails on her good hand digging into his back as she held onto him as hard as she could, obviously not wanting to let him go, to risk him disappearing again, and he couldn't help the few tears that fell. "Damn it, Danny, why'd you have to die?" she whispered in his ear.

"I didn't exactly plan on it." They held each other for a few minutes before she finally let go, and he carefully pulled on the clothes, trying to make sure he didn't accidentally knock over any of the candles and set something on fire. "I'd argue, in fact, that I was pretty solidly against it, but Vlad . . . he caught me off guard."

"What–what happened?"

"You really want to sit through a full death echo right now?" he asked. He knew from his first day in the Ghost Zone that while Vlad might not have succeeded in killing him, he came close enough to leave deep scars, both physical and psychological ones that he doubted would ever truly heal. And even now, Danny still couldn't work up the courage to look for his own humanity, that warmth inside of himself since he woke up a few minutes ago, since even if he did get an answer it might not be clear just what it meant. If his core didn't have enough time to heal, then he probably wouldn't sense that spark, but if it did and he still couldn't transform, well, that was it. He would be dead. Really, truly dead. And even if he did find that tiny glimmer of his own living half, there was still a risk that transforming would kill him, anyway, if he wasn't healed enough.

"Not really, but if you want to talk about it, I'm willing to listen," she said. "I should've listened to you about Mr. Masters, too, back when you warned me as Phantom, but as long as he was giving me the tools to do what I wanted to do, I didn't question it. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Val," said Danny. It was strange to hear her apologize so much to him, especially since Danny wasn't sure if she should be. He'd kept his secret for too long, and it was only now that he realized how many people were hurt because of it, from him to Val to his other friends and family. Danny couldn't change it, but he didn't have to let her take all of the blame for everything that went wrong. "He was going to find out eventually, and what happened to me isn't your fault or anyone else's, okay?" He tucked his legs up to his chest, letting his head rest on his knees. "Was that–is that why you summoned me, though? To apologize?"

"Of course not," she chuckled bitterly. "Maybe it should've been, but we wanted to let you rest and have some chance at peace. And we would have, but things are . . . they're bad right now. Really bad. So while I'm sorry we made you come here, we do need your help."

And so she explained about Pariah Dark's escape and Vlad's capture and their entire revenge plot against him (the news of which made him strangely elated and sad, though he could not say exactly why). She talked about the ring Vlad stole, the Fright Knight, and the demands made upon Amity Park. He could feel his core aching, his obsession driving him to fix it, somehow, but even if his obsession wasn't screaming at him he would still want to do something, anything, to keep his family and friends safe. He loved them too much not to try and help, and having died (or at least almost died) more than once now, he didn't want anyone else to experience that suffering, that pain and the loneliness that came with it. "What do you need from me?" he asked. "I'm not sure I can fight. I've been recovering, but I don't know how much I've healed and I might not be able to do much."

"Your family and Sam and Tucker want me to ask you to talk to the other ghosts to see if you can convince them to help us fight against Pariah Dark," said Val, and he cocked an eyebrow at her, noting how she left herself out of that little statement.

"And you?"

"I want you to do the same thing, but also . . . there's something else, too. I want to give you the choice, okay? You don't have to do it, your family doesn't even want me to ask you to do it, but I think you deserve to get to make the decision for yourself since I know what I would do if I had the choice," she said. "Your parents have this invention called an ecto skeleton. Do you know about it?"

Danny nodded. The day his Dad tested it felt like it happened a hundred years ago now, but he remembered it almost killing his Dad. "Yeah. Did they ever fix the issue with the energy consumption?"

"No."

Ah. "You want me to use it since I'm already dead?" It wasn't really a question, of course. That was exactly what she wanted, and he knew it.

"I think if you don't, your Dad or Mom is going to try to use it instead," said Valerie. "Things are bad enough out there that I might try, even with my broken arm, although I doubt I'll get very far."

It struck him hard, pulling on the right notes, and his obsession was a roar, now, begging and pleading with him to do it, to protect them, to protect everyone and their dreams for the future. He squirmed, not wanting to give into it so readily, not wanting to commit himself to whatever death or end might await until he knew for sure what to expect, because he realized now that he mattered, too. But he also knew he couldn't, wouldn't, let his family and friends die if he could help, obsession or not. "What happens if I do? You said my parents were against it, so I'm guessing that even though I can't die from it, my using it still won't be good, will it?"

"It's never been tested on a ghost, Danny, but they think there's a good chance you would destabilize if you used too much power," said Val. "I don't want that for you, so if you say no I understand. We could try to figure out something else."

"Oh." Should he tell her that there was a chance he might be alive still? Was there any point to it if he already made up his mind? Closing his eyes, he let out a long, slow breath as he took the plunge and sought out that light, that warmth he always felt in his ghost form since the very first time he transformed until Vlad's blast injured his heart and core.

And his eyes snapped open, glowing brilliantly, as he found it.

"Danny?"

"Can you–can you give me a minute alone?" he asked. "To think about it?"

"Of course," she said, and then she walked over and blew out one of the candles. "You should be able to leave the circle now, I think. I'll come back in a few minutes if you don't come find me, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Val." He watched in silence as she walked out the door, and then after she was gone he paused for a second, considering if this was the right thing to do or not given what Frostbite told him, and found that he did not care as he let his fingers grasp that light within himself, extending it outward into two, brilliant rings that traveled over him until standing in the circle was no longer Danny Phantom, but Danny Fenton.

A very human, very alive Danny Fenton.

"I'm not–I'm really not dead," he whispered softly, his hands going to his mouth, and he walked over to his mirror and stared at the black-haired, blue-eyed version of himself. His fingers brushed against his own reflection as he breathed, a strange sort of wonder that this time it wasn't out of mere habit but necessity. Carefully, he placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating slowly but steadily, the air filling his lungs. For one minute, he let himself feel and be human again and alive again. He didn't want to lose this yet. He wanted to be here, with his family and friends, but . . . but they didn't need Danny Fenton right now, did they?

They needed a ghost, and one willing to risk being permanently destabilized thanks to his intense obsession with protecting his loved ones and all of their hopes and dreams.

Would Valerie ask him to do this still if she knew he wasn't really dead? His family wasn't even willing to ask the question, but he doubted they would say no if he offered to take up the ecto skeleton and fight. Would he really be saving them by sacrificing himself, sacrificing everything again? "I'm sorry," he said, to no one, really, and there was no echo, no ghostliness as tears burned in his eyes and he hid his face in his hands.

Didn't he deserve a life? A chance to find new dreams and hopes and something he could live for?

Of course. He knew he did, in a way he hadn't believed before now, not in a long time, and with a shock he realized that the hollowness, the emptiness, the void that led him to consuming dreams and craving more was little more than a whisper now, almost entirely gone. He wanted, desperately, to live and dream and be. To go to school, celebrate holidays and birthdays with his family, to learn how to bake and play guitar and play video games with his friends and maybe even kiss a girl or a boy and–

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, then, but he laughed as pure, intense joy bubbled up to the surface, at just the sheer strangeness and delight of being alive as he wiped his tears away and hugged himself tightly. There wasn't time to enjoy this. To revel in it beyond this mere gasp, this mere glimpse of what could be, or maybe what could have been, and he let out one more exhale, one more slow breath as he felt his heart beat in his chest.

And then he reached for the ice inside of himself, the winter and the cold, the sense of death and an unchanging eternity, and pulled, letting the rings cascade back over him and stopping his heart, his lungs, while his core sang and hummed in his chest, and his reflection went from a living, teenage boy to a ghost. To his surprise, he wasn't in the Hazmat suit he knew so well, at least not aside from the pants and boots. He wore the shirt Ember gave him, even though he shouldn't have been able to since it ought to be back in Frostbite's lab somewhere, far from home.

And as he pulled down the top of the shirt, he could see the scar from where Vlad struck him, still. He didn't know what it meant. Why it changed, why he wasn't in the clothes Val gave him or his full Hazmat suit from before, but there wasn't time to make sense of it, and yet again Danny desperately wished he had another day or even another hour to live.

"Danny?" Valerie knocked, and then opening the door she stopped when she saw him and stared. "Did you get changed?"

"I guess? I didn't mean to," he said, laughing sadly. "But I want to do it, Val. I want to help."

"You'll use the ecto skeleton?"

"Yeah, Val, I will. But let me talk to the ghosts first, okay? We'll need all the help we can get."

"Sure. They're in the Ops Center," she said, and as he started to leave she stopped him. "And Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I know that–I mean–just thank you, okay? I'll be out there with you, too. No matter what. And, um . . . try not to destabilize. Your parents said they put a thing in there to track the power consumption, so you should have enough warning to get out before it happens," she said, but she sounded doubtful, maybe rightfully so. It wasn't as if his parents ever tested the suit on a ghost.

"I'll try," he promised, giving her one last quick, awkward hug, and then he flew up to the Ops Center.

The reaction from the ghosts was instantaneous. "They brought you here?!"

"How dare they, I'll–"

"-that hunter girl, she tried to use your memory to–"

"-guys, stop!" he shouted, holding his hands up defensively. "It's fine. I'm fine, okay? I get why they did it, and I would've been mad if they hadn't. But they're not wrong. I need your help."

"You're going to fight, whelp? Listen, you've impressed me countless times, but you are not powerful enough to defeat Pariah Dark," said Skulker. "He's destroyed ghosts and liminals much stronger than you, and from what the humans said, he defeated Plasmius, who has already proven himself in combat against you. There is no way you can defeat him, ghost child."

"My parents have this suit they made that'll amplify my power," argued Danny. "It might not be enough, but I have to try. The alternative is that everyone in both this world and the Ghost Zone will end up suffering for centuries. But I can't fight Pariah Dark, the Fright Knight, and an army by myself. My parents, my friends, my sister . . . they'll help. But I don't think we can do it alone. I understand if you won't. I–I don't want to force you or make you risk yourselves that way. But if you're willing, then . . . then I'd appreciate whatever you are willing to do."

Ember rolled her eyes as she stepped forward. "Fine, kid. I'll fight some skeletons, but if that creepy king comes near me, I'm booking it. Understand?"

"I have always wanted to challenge the Fright Knight. He is a fairly unusual foe," offered Skulker, and Danny stared at him in awe. From what Val suggested, the ghosts were completely unwilling to even consider it before now. He didn't understand why his words held so much weight with them, why they cared so much, but he couldn't ask as more of the specters stepped forward, offering to join the fight.

"We can smash some skeleton heads in," offered Kitty, a bat materializing.

"I've been wanting to throw some meat patties of doom!"

And it continued, until every ghost in the Ops Center agreed to help, including Technus and others that he barely developed any connection with before this, and while they were still outnumbered by a wide margin, Danny knew that at least they now had a fighting chance.

"I don't get it," he said after they finished, unable to help himself. He needed to know. "Why would you do all this for me?"

"You're going to fight, too, aren't you?" said Ember, and he nodded. "Right. Besides, I've said it before. We all have. You're the only one that's ever believed we could be different."

"But Jazz and Valerie asked, too, and–"

"-they did not. They were rather angry and demanding," said the Lunch Lady. "Quite rude, in fact, and disrespectful with how they tried to use the memory of you to manipulate us."

"They saw us as tools, Sir Phantom, not as the spirits we are," added Queen Dora. "They did not ask."

"I–thanks," he said, understanding settling in. If his sister still wanted to be a therapist for ghosts, she had a long way to go, and Val . . . well, he doubted she harbored any such aspirations. She would probably be fine, at least, but if she really was a liminal, too, then maybe he should nudge her to try a bit harder to connect to them if he somehow survived all this. "I have to go to the lab and get the suit. Valerie said the Fright Knight was at the school, by the football field. I'm guessing Pariah Dark will be close to there, too."

"We shall meet you there and join you in the field of battle at the appropriate time," said Queen Dora, and one by one the ghosts vanished, leaving him alone. For one last time, he let himself feel that flutter of warmth in his chest before phasing through the floor and into the basement, staying invisible, and then . . . oh.

His chest ached more than he thought possible when he saw them. His parents were working on the suit, quietly arguing over which one would use it. Sam, Tucker, Val, and Jazz were pulling weapons out of the cabinets, discussing which ones would be best, and for some reason they weren't willing to defer to Val's opinion on it despite her being the only tried and true ghost hunter out of the four of them.

And there, sitting on a table in the center of the lab within a containment field, was a thermos which no doubt contained Vlad Masters. His murderer. For one, brief second Danny fantasized about chucking it into the sun, and then pushed that thought aside. There would be time to deal with Vlad later. Maybe not for him, but someone else could handle him as long as Vlad remained contained.

He planned to move towards the suit, but then something caught his eye. Sitting on a table outside the containment field was a small green and black ring with a skull engraved on it. The Ring of Rage. He could feel a pull from it, whispers that tugged powerfully at his core. They weren't thoughts of ruining and destroying everything like he expected from such an artifact; instead, the little thoughts that flitted to him from it were anger about this, about everything. About being only fifteen years old and being forced to sacrifice himself, a child (because the ghosts were not wrong, he was a child), to save his world from yet another ghost bent on destruction, and wasn't that unfair? Maybe it didn't have to be that way, it said quietly. Maybe it could help him.

Danny bit his lip, feeling uneasy. He needed it to lure out Pariah Dark if nothing else, and so he grabbed it and tucked it away into a pocket of his pants while the others were distracted and reminded himself that he didn't need to listen to it, that he could ignore it, since putting it on would be too risky and likely cause him to lose himself or start consuming dreams again or who knew what else that he didn't want to risk. Walking over to the ecto skeleton, Danny realized there was no way for him to just take it, not while his parents were still fiddling with the controls, and that he would need to make himself appear before them. It wasn't fair, to tease them this way, to make them think there was a chance he could return and be here with them even when he knew it wouldn't last. The likelihood that he would survive this fight was practically nil.

"Hi," he said as he appeared, and his Dad yelped while his Mom almost dropped a soldering iron on her foot. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

But he was cut off as his parents jumped to their feet and threw their arms around him, squeezing him so tightly he was lucky that he was in his ghost form right now or else he wouldn't be able to breathe.

"You made it," Mom whispered, sobbing. "You didn't destabilize. I know the ghosts said you didn't, but I–but we–"

"I didn't destabilize," he said, choking on his words. He couldn't tell them. They wouldn't let him take the ecto skeleton if they knew he might only be half-dead still.

Or maybe Danny didn't want to know if they would still let him take it if they found out he was still only half-dead. He knew they loved him, knew they cared about him, and yet the last time he spoke to them, they still had a long way to go when it came to accepting and understanding the ghosts. That quiet, terrified voice, the one that constantly whispered in the back of his mind before Vlad tried to kill him and when no one knew the truth about who and what he was, wondered if his parents would prefer it if he were gone for good instead of a ghost. He didn't want to know the answer. He couldn't bring himself to ask, and so instead he smiled at them. "Thanks to you two, I managed to get through it, I think. I don't remember much from that night, and I–I'm sorry I panicked."

"Sorry we gave you so many reasons to panic," said Mom.

"We missed you, kiddo," said Dad, and then he felt more arms around him as Tucker and Sam and Jazz joined in, and for one minute he let himself enjoy it. He didn't worry about if this was the right thing or if this would hurt them more or if it was a mistake. He couldn't. He desperately needed this moment with them, just one chance to say goodbye, and maybe they needed that more than he realized, too.

"What happened to the Hazmat suit?" asked Jazz when they finally stopped, wiping her tears on her sleeve. "I thought you–y'know. That it would come back or something?"

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I–something changed, I guess. It's sort of a subconscious thing."

"And your subconscious really likes Ember, apparently," teased Tucker, punching him gently in the shoulder.

"She's my friend," said Danny, maybe a little too defensively. "She–I–she gave it to me. Kind of. I guess this isn't the one she actually gave me? It's confusing. But I don't think there's time to talk about it right now. I . . . I need to take the ecto skeleton."

Instantly they turned on Valerie, who stood a little ways off. "You asked him to do it? I thought we agreed–"

"-he deserves to make the choice for himself," she interrupted. "And he agreed."

"Danny, if you get in the suit, you'll destabilize once your core's been drained," said Mom. "Your father and I haven't fixed the power supply issue."

"So you'd rather go in there and die instead?" said Danny. "I heard you, when I first came down. You and Dad were arguing about which one of you should take it. You know it's the only option, and that Valerie's right. I am the best pick for it."

"Danny, we just got you back," said Tucker. "You can't leave us again, not like this."

"No, you didn't," he argued. Lied. He couldn't tell them. "I can't stay here, regardless, and being a ghost is–I hate it. It's just endless, empty existence with no meaning. I don't–I don't want this." Another lie, but one he knew they'd probably believe. His parents managed to come a long way in a very, very short time, but they had no reason to think that being a ghost was something anyone would ever want, not if they could make that decision for themselves. "This isn't me or whoever I was, right? It's just an echo, and at some point, I'm just going to be consumed by my obsession and end up completely unrecognizable. I–I'm sorry, okay? Please just let me do this. I got the other ghosts to agree to help. They'll fight his army. I won't be alone."

"Okay, but you have to try not to push yourself too far," his Dad said. "We put a monitor in there. It should tell you when you've gotten close. As long as your energy readings are at least over 5%, you–you should make it through it."

His heart broke a little at hearing his Dad agree so easily after hearing his lies, at answering the question he didn't want to ask, and there was an odd emotion roiling in his gut that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but this was what Danny needed to do. He couldn't dwell on it. They were running out of time. "Jack, honey, we can't–"

"-he's a Fenton, Mads. Ghost hunting is in our blood," he said. "And Valerie is right. He should get to make this choice, as long as he's able to make it."

"Danny, are you sure this is what you want?" asked Sam, squeezing his hand gently, and he looked at his friends, his family, and knew. Even if it killed him, he would save them every time.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Then let's get you into the ecto skeleton," said Jazz softly. "I'll help."

She walked over to him, his parents explaining how it worked and where the monitor was, focused on the battle at hand. No one wanted to think about what would happen to him or how this fight would almost certainly end. "Wish me luck," he said, and he winced as he felt the neural interface snap into place, his eyes glowing brilliantly for a moment before returning to their normal intensity. He peered out through the clear dome at his family one last time as it powered up, and he could see the indicator his Dad mentioned in the corner. "I–if something does go wrong–um–I love you guys, okay? That's–I didn't say it enough before. I wish I had."

"Don't make wishes out loud in Amity Park!" said Tucker. "Even if Desiree is your friend. But we love you, too, man."

"Come back alive, Danny," said Val. "We'll see you on the battlefield."

With one last nod, he let out a long, shaky breath before turning the suit invisible and intangible and leaping through the ceiling.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, follows, favorites, etc, as always!

Might be a bit of a delay for the next chapter - in reading ahead, I've seen that I need to do a lot of editing to it, but hopefully it won't take too long.