There was something about having your own bedroom. Not a motel, not a seat at the back of the bus, not a darkened nook to shelter from the wind… a bedroom. A space all to his own.

"Uh, sorry about the mess," Stan was saying as he led him into a cluttered room upstairs. "This is the only other bedroom in the house - I haven't really had a reason to fix it up. Wasn't expecting guests, y'know."

Danny didn't respond. He waded through the books stacked in piles up to his knees, loose crumpled-up papers crinkling under his shoes, towards the bed in the corner. He shrugged the backpack off of his shoulders, and put it down on the hard mattress. Stan rubbed his neck.

"It's not much, but, ah, if you're gonna be staying here a while, we can do it up a bit. And you can stay. As long as you want."

Danny nodded to that, but a deep exhaustion had swept over him; he could feel it like an ache in his bones, and all of a sudden he couldn't summon the words to respond. Stan seemed to notice - he took a step back, and put a hand on the doorknob.

"Well. I'll let you get settled in, then. We'll start working on the portal tomorrow."

He seemed like he wanted to say more, but after a moment he gave a nod and shut the door behind him. Danny was alone, and the only light came from the dimming sunset through his window.

Slowly, he sat down on the edge of his bed. It was just as hard as it looked, and the sheets were paper-thin… but in that moment, it didn't matter. After all the months of moving, to have a place to stay still, a bed to call his own - it almost felt like he was home.

A pause, at that thought. A frown, and Danny stood up again.

"But I'm not home," he muttered. "I'm not staying here a second longer than I have to."

The books strewn about the floor - Danny's eyes flashed glowing green, and he could read the titles easily in the near-darkness. Most of them looked completely unrelated to the portal; he frowned at a blackboard in the corner, some kind of schematic half-erased and scrawled over with 'IT IS UNSEEN' in messy handwriting.

"Yikes…" he raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I don't even wanna know what was going on in here. Just fix the portal, and get out."

Something caught his eye; a sticky note with what looked like a crude drawing of the portal stuck to one of the books by his bed. He lifted it up, and groaned at the weight of it. Of course - this was the kind of thing you read if you wanted to build an interdimensional portal. There weren't going to be any cheat sheets for C students.

He sank back into bed with the textbook on his lap, and sighed. So this was how he was going to get home. Not with a great journey, not with the help of his parents… but with more studying than he'd ever done in his life.

And, faintly, he realised he was prepared to do it. He was prepared to do anything to get back to his family.

Rubbing his stinging eyes, he cracked open the book and started to read.

A knock at the door startled Danny awake. He started to sit up, but a weight on his chest made him pause; what was-?

The textbook. Oh, right.

"Hey, kid," Came Stan's voice. "Uh, Danny? You awake in there?"

Danny pushed the textbook to the side and sat up. "Yeah," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Just about. What time is it?"

"Ah, about six in the morning."

Six? Danny shot a glare at the darkened window. Stan continued.

"Anyway, if you could get ready and make your way down to the kitchen, I got some stuff I wanna go over with you before I open the front. That sound good?"

Hmph. Danny glanced down at the clothes he'd slept in, and grabbed the textbook. He phased himself through the floor, and settled down in one of the kitchen chairs just as there was a creak from the stairs. Stan came around the corner and jumped at the sight of him.

"Son of a- how'd you-?" He glanced back. "I-! I heard you upstairs!"

Danny gave a shrug. "Well, you told me to come down when I was ready, and I'm ready. What did you want to tell me?"

"I guess I did." He made his way to the fridge. "Lemme get a bite to eat first. Do you want something too, or do ghosts not do breakfast?"

"I'm not a ghost!"

"Could've fooled me." He took a cereal box out of the fridge, and closed the door. "I'll find a bowl for you."

There was an awkward, sleepy silence as the two of them ate breakfast. All they had was dry cereal; Stan snorted when he asked if there was any milk.

Since there wasn't much for conversation, Danny opened the textbook again. He flipped to his bookmark - not that it did much good. The whole thing was so dense it made his head spin.

"Whatcha reading there?"

Danny looked up, and then glanced at the cover. "Uh… Bohmian Mechanics and Fundamental Determinism ?"

"Oh, a real page turner." His eyes twinkled. "You getting any of it?"

"Uh, you know, I think I'm starting to?" At Stan's disbelieving state, he sighed. "No, I stayed up all night trying to read this stupid thing, and I don't think I remember a word of it. But I need to know this kind of stuff if we're going to fix the portal, right?"

Stan gave a chuckle that ended in a sigh of his own. "Yeah, I did the exact same thing when I first came here, kid. If there was a way to will yourself into learning quantum physics, I would've found it." He reached into a stack of books on the table, and drew out a much thinner volume. "Save yourself the headache. I went over to the high school and dug this physics textbook out of the trash. If you're anything like me, you're gonna need to start from the bottom."

Danny watched him slide it over to him. "Uh, alright. Thanks?"

"And you're not gonna wanna just learn physics. I got this engineering textbook, too, but…" he looked over to Danny, and gave a wry smile. "I'll leave it there for now. Don't want to overwhelm you your first day."

"I'm not overwhelmed," Danny said, though his head was swimming. "Whatever I gotta read to fix that portal, I'll read it."

Stan just grunted to that, and took another bite of cereal. Danny played with his spoon, but he didn't feel hungry all of a sudden. Highschool physics… Stan was probably right to start from the bottom, but this really was going to take a while, wasn't it?

Danny thought about how long he'd already been missing; they'd be back from winter break by now. He wondered what had happened in all that time, how strange it was going to be when he got back and had to pick up from where he'd left off. And it'd only get stranger the longer he was gone - what if this took months? What if it took a whole year? Was he going to get held back in school?

He shuddered at the thought. A creaking sound drew him back to reality; Stan had risen from his chair. Danny watched as he picked up the bowl and added it to the pile of dishes in the sink.

"Alright," he said. "I have to open up shop soon, so let's make this quick."

"Open up shop?" Danny frowned. "You're not going to work on the portal?"

"I can't be in two places at once, can I?" Stan picked his fez up from a coat rack and put it on his head. "I can't even do more than one tour at a time 'cause I gotta watch the gift shop - say, I've been looking for a cashier…"

Danny saw his eyes turn towards him, and bristled. "Then keep looking. I came here to fix the portal, not to make you money."

"Fixing the portal doesn't pay the mortgage," Stan muttered, but he nodded. "But fair enough. It was worth asking. Anyway, I'll be gone until five, so I just wanted to lay some ground rules for how this is gonna work out."

"Okay."

"Number one: no touching the portal while I'm gone." Stan crossed his arms. "I know you wanna go home, but neither of us is gonna get what we want if we go breaking it worse than it's already broken."

"I'm not gonna break it," Danny grumbled. But fine. As long as it goes both ways - you don't touch it if I'm not down there too."

Stan made a face at that, but he nodded. "Deal. Alright, I'll be off at lunch-"

"Anything else?"

"Huh?"

"You said you had ground rules, but then you only said one. Is that it?"

Stan paused at the door, thinking for a moment. "I guess I got another one." He said. "And that's don't make me need more ground rules."

Then he was gone, leaving Danny to the stack of books on the table. Danny sighed, pushed his cereal away, and picked up the textbook. He made a face at the hard chair, and let himself float up, resting a couple feet up in the air.

Then he opened the textbook, and got started.

Months. Danny had been worried the portal would take months, and as time went on, he realised that was a silly thought. He didn't need to worry about it taking months.

Because it was going to take years.

The long days spent reading textbooks, teaching himself maths and physics, writing out formulas and solving equations until his pencils wore down to nubs. The longer nights spent down in the portal room with Stan, poring over the partial schematics in the journal and gingerly testing theories on how to get it working again. He needn't have worried about Stan working on it alone; both of them were too scared of breaking it to do more than flip switches and open up panels.

"Maybe it's low on fuel. Stan, do we know what it runs on?"

"It doesn't say in the journal… and those fuel lines have that radiation symbol on them. You can open that up on your own, ghost kid."

They'd work until the early hours of the morning, and trudge back to the elevator, haggard and defeated. Then they'd wake up the next morning and do it all over again.

Sisyphean. Danny lay awake one night, and gave a wry smile up at the darkness. He must've come across that word at some point in his studies, because it certainly wasn't one that would've so casually sprung to his mind just a few months ago.

All this time away from home… it was changing him. And he knew his home was changing, too, that Sam and Tucker and Jazz were growing up, were growing away. He wondered if they thought he was dead by now. If they'd had a funeral. If they were moving on.

He needed to get back soon, before he was left behind.

"Excuse me? Excuse me?"

Ugh. He had a headache.

"Um, I wanted to… buy this?" Danny lifted his eyes up to a customer standing in front of the till, arms full of useless junk from the gift shop. The guy seemed to shrink a little under Danny's blank stare. "You are the cashier, right?"

Danny looked at the register, and sighed. "I guess I am," he muttered, and started punching in some numbers. "Hang on a second."

"Thanks…" The guy gave a nervous chuckle. "Uh, lost in a good book, huh?"

Danny looked down at the weighty textbook open in front of him: CALCULUS 101: DIFFERENTIAL CALCULUS . "No," he said. "That'll be seventy dollars."

"Seventy…?" The guy started to argue, but he quailed under Danny's stare. "Um, okay. Okay, uh, here you go. Sorry."

Then he quickly scurried out of there; Danny phased the money into the register, cast a glance around the room, and returned to his position stooped over the textbook, head resting on his cheek as he tried to stop the words from swimming in front of his eyes.

"And this, folks, is the most important part of our tour!" Stan's voice rang out from the hallway; a second later he appeared at the door, brandishing an 8-ball cane. "Last but not least, it's the gift shop! Come on, buy something, take a part of the Murder Hut home with you! I'm not unlocking the doors until you do!"

A fresh flood of tourists rushed in; Stan picked a passing pocket, and chuckled to himself as he strode on over to Danny.

"Been a stingy group so far, this one." He lifted a couple bills from the wallet and passed them over. "I don't think this guy'll mind donating to a good cause, eh?"

"To a good cause, no." Danny said, but he took the money anyway. "What time is it?"

"Nine, why?" Stan stared at his dead expression. "You wanna stop already? We've run more tours through already than the whole of yesterday! Think of how much money we'll make off of these suckers!"

"Yeah, how much money 'we'll' make."

"Hey, everything goes straight to the mortgage!" Stan lifted the sunglasses off of a passing tourist's head. "This is a job to me the same it is to you."

Then he put on the sunglasses, and checked himself out in a display mirror. Danny's eyebrows drooped.

"Sure, exactly the same." Danny saw someone coming up to the till, and pointedly ignored them. "Look, can I just work until lunch? I've got the worst headache right now."

"Oh, yeah?" Stan looked back, and paused. "Huh, you do look a little greyer than usual. You feeling alright?"

"I just said I had a headache, so no."

"Hmph. Yeah, just work until lunch, then." He looked up at the till. "Anyway, you got a line forming, and I've got another tour to do. We'll talk later, alright?"

Then he was gone, and Danny heaved a sigh. He phased the bills into the till, then moved to close the textbook… huh. His hand was still going through the pages. He frowned down at it; it was flickering in and out of existence.

"Weird," he murmured, and with a little bit of concentration it popped back into reality. Still… it was strange he had to think about it at all.

Oh, well. He closed the book and looked up at the bug-eyed customer standing in front of him. "Can I help you?"

"You…" His mouth flapped open as he pointed a finger. "Your hand!"

"What about my hand?"

"It was all… and then it - it went through the book!" He turned around to the other customers, also craning to see. "You saw that too, right? How did he do that?"

Danny heard the murmurs of amazement, and allowed himself a tired smile. "Well," he started, and lifted the textbook up. "This is the Murder Hut. You never know what'll happen in here."

Then, to a chorus of astonished shouts, he reached through the book to take their souvenir. They all gathered around him, asking him how on earth he pulled that off, and he couldn't help but grin. Maybe Stan was starting to rub off on him… but that was pretty fun.

Then he saw them all going for a souvenir of their own, and he groaned as he realised he'd just earned himself an additional job.

"Hot Belgian waffles, kid, just look at this cash!"

Sitting around the table at lunch, Danny stared down at his plate. Stan wasn't much of a cook, but considering he was too much of a tightwad to buy milk for their cereal, his pancakes had started to feel like something of a luxury. The warm smell was making his stomach rumble like crazy; all he wanted to do was pick up a fork and stuff his face.

It was a shame this was the day his hands decided to give up on being solid. He had them in his lap, playing it casual as he desperately tried to make them materialise. Maybe it was dumb of him to overuse his intangibility on cheap tricks for tourists after it had already started going haywire on him, but…

Well, he couldn't think of a but. It was just dumb.

"We gotta get you up front more often, kid!" Stan counted out a fat stack of bills and set it on the table with a grin. "This is the mortgage for the month! And look how much is left over! We can finally buy that toolkit we were looking at for the portal - and heck, did you say you wanted a better bed?"

"Yeah." Danny made to rub his head, but thought better of it. "And a lot of other things, like milk, warm water, not the cheapest possible toilet paper-"

"Kid, you keep making this much money, I'll buy you whatever you want." He beamed at Danny, but it faded after a moment. "Not hungry, huh? You're looking even worse than this morning."

"What? No, I'm fine, I'm-" He tried to lean on the table and went right through. "Agh! Ugh, are you kidding me!"

"What the-?" Stan looked under the table, and frowned. "Yeesh, what is going on with your hands?"

"I don't know!"

"Is it because you were doing tricks all morning?"

"I just said, I don't know!" He snapped, and then sighed. "I mean, it was starting to act up before that, so probably not. But I don't know why - I thought I'd learned how to manage this by now!"

He tried to brush some hair out of his eyes, but nothing happened. With a groan, he sank down until his chin was resting on the table, his eyes glaring at the pancake in front of him. Stan couldn't help but chuckle a bit; the glare shot to him.

"It's not funny!"

"Kid, I won't lie to you, this is pretty funny." Still, he made an effort to stifle it as he got to his feet. "Maybe you're just tired or something - why don't you go sleep it off?"

"What if it doesn't go away?"

Stan shrugged. "Dunno. Figure it out, I guess."

"Gee, thanks for the reassurance." He rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. "I guess I've been pulling a lot of all-nighters lately."

"You and me both." Stan rubbed his eyes. "I'd probably be sinking through the floor too if I could."

"Heh, yeah." He paused. "Wait, sinking through the- ugh, not this again!"

God, Danny didn't miss this awkward stage of his powers. He made it upstairs and flung himself into bed, hoping that for once in his life, everything would just go back to normal by the time he woke up.

Things did not go back to normal. Danny didn't have to see his flickering hands to know that; it was written all over Stan's pale face.

"What is it?" Danny frowned at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Uhhhh…" Stan stood there for a moment, then managed: "Your face looks… different."

"Different? What do you mean? What's wrong with my face?"

"It's… I'll get a mirror."

He quickly ran to the bathroom, and when he returned, Danny's stomach dropped at the sight of himself. Angry red blisters had erupted themselves all over his face, and his eyes were their eerie glowing green. A smattering of white hairs had grown in on his head, and there was a subtle shine coming off his skin - not as much as in his ghost form, but it was definitely there.

"So," Stan said. "Got any ideas for what this is? Because I'll be honest, you look like you're dying again."

"I'm not dying," Danny shot back, and ran a hand through his hair. "Ugh, you know what, I think I actually know what this is."

"What is it?"

"That portal," He poked at his face. "The prototype in Wisconsin, I looked all weird after it blasted me the first time. It went away so I thought I was fine… but it looks like it did something to me!"

"No kidding." He grimaced. "You really don't have a lot of luck with those portals of theirs, do you."

Danny just shook his head. "Great. Great! Just when I thought I was getting the hang of things, this happens! I can't go back home looking like this! I look like a freak!"

"No you don't," Stan said, but there was a note of uncertainty in it. "Uh, look, you said it went away before?"

"When I was flying back across the country to you. I guess that's when it went back to normal; I didn't really notice because I was in my…"

Then he trailed off, and sat up straighter. Stan frowned.

"In your what?"

In response, Danny flashed into his ghost form. He looked at the mirror again, and grinned at the sight.

"Yes! I look like me again!" A pause. "Or, well, I look like me as a ghost, but normal… you get what I mean!"

"I getcha." Stan nodded at him. "Yeah, you don't look so sick like this. You feel normal?"

He pressed his hands to the bed; they didn't go through. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think I'm okay like this. But…"

He tried to go back to his human form, and it was an effort. Immediately his headache came back, and his hands started sinking through the bed. He changed back, and got to his feet.

"Hmm. I still need to figure out what's going on with me."

"Yeah, you can't man the register looking like that." At Danny's sharp glance, he cleared his throat. "Or go home, I mean. Yeah… hey, maybe we should look at the journal."

"The journal?" Danny frowned. "Your brother's journal?"

"Yeah, he's the paranormal expert! I think I saw a page or two about ghosts in there - it wasn't about the portal so I didn't look real hard, but maybe there's something that'll help!

He made a face. "I guess it doesn't hurt to check. It's in the basement, right?"

"Yeah," Stan nodded. "I can run down and get-"

Danny phased into the floor, leaving Stan to roll his eyes. "Or, you know, you can do that. Alright."

He took the stairs, and they met back up in the kitchen. Stan started flipping through the journal.

"Alright, Poindexter, don't let me down here," Stan muttered. "Unicorns, weird bats, something something something…"

"Unicorns?" Danny scoffed. "Those don't exist."

"I said the same about ghosts once." Stan made a face. "You ain't been out of the house much, but there's some spooky things in that forest. I'll believe in unicorns."

Danny thought back to that gnome he saw the first day he came here. He didn't say anything; after a moment Stan spoke again.

"Aha! See, ghosts! We'll find something helpful in here!"

Danny looked down at the page. "There's a section here on how to destroy them."

"Well, don't look at that part." Stan pointed to another. "Look, there's a section on what not to use on ghosts!"

"So?"

"Do not give ectoplasm as that will make them much more powerful," Stan read off, and grinned at him. "See? Maybe we just gotta get some ectoplasm in you!"

"Eww, pass." Danny wrinkled his nose. "Besides, where are we supposed to find ectoplasm around here? My parents always said it only formed in the Ghost Zone… or around ghosts, I guess."

Stan looked out of the window, into the darkness of the forest. A dangerous grin tugged at his lips; Danny had a bad feeling all of a sudden.

"What are you smiling about?" He followed Stan's gaze, blinked, and then shook his head. "No. No, we're not going into the forest. Stan, we're not!"

"What's wrong?" Stan smirked at him. "You're a ghost afraid of the dark?"

"I'm afraid of whatever's in that forest in the dead of night, Stan - Stan!" He watched in disbelief as Stan picked up a flashlight and made for his coat. "Stan, I'm serious, you're going to get yourself killed! What if there's, I dunno, bears! You're gonna get killed by bears out there!"

Stan opened the door, and motioned for him to follow. Danny hesitated a moment longer, then picked up the journal and floated after him.

"This is such a bad idea," he muttered. Stan clapped a hand on his back.

"Bad ideas are the spice of life, Danny. Let's go for a little walk, huh?"

Danny expected the forest to be creepy, and he wasn't wrong at all. It was a half-moon tonight, but he could barely make out a star in the sky through the thick black canopy; he could see further than Stan, but even his eyes could only make out darkness beyond the first few rows of thick trunks… darkness, and the occasional flicker that might be a trick of his mind, or something more. The forest was alive with sounds - hootings, buzzings, clickings, strange low sounds that set off a primal unease in him.

He jumped at what sounded like a piercing scream, but Stan only laughed. He cast a glare at him.

"Not funny, Stan! You hear that?"

"Relax, it's just a fox."

"Ugh," Danny heard it again, and shuddered. "Hate the forest. Just take me back to Illinois already."

"Ah, lighten up, kid. Nothing bad is gonna happen." He winked at Danny. "And if it does, you fly us outta here, huh?"

"Great, so it's on me if anything goes wrong." He crossed his arms. "Very relaxing. I'm so relaxed right now."

"Look, if you really, really hate it, we can head back, but since we're already out here, why don't you look for some of that ecto-stuff? You got better eyes than me."

"I don't even know what it looks like," he muttered. "I guess my parents said it'd be green. And glowing."

"So you do know what it is, green and glowing."

"I… hmph."

They walked on a little longer, up a slight hill. Danny cast his eyes all around him, but there wasn't any sign of anything green or glowing. He looked back at Stan, and saw him casting the flashlight's beam across the forest floor; he seemed to feel his gaze, and looked up.

"What?"

Danny looked away. "Uh, nothing."

Stan grunted, and for a moment that seemed like all he was gonna say. But Danny heard him make an odd sound, clear his throat, and try again: "Hey, uh, kid? Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Say I wanted to ask you an odd question."

Danny looked back, and saw Stan wasn't meeting his eyes all of a sudden. He'd slowed right down, too; Danny slowed too, and raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"Alright." He paused for another long moment, and cleared his throat again. "I guess I'll be out with it… you don't hate me, do you?"

The question was so unexpected, Danny just blinked. "Uh…"

"I mean, you don't have to like me, you don't have to do that." He spoke quickly now. "I know I'm a piece of work, and I know you're stuck here working with me and you don't got a choice there, but, you know, we're on alright terms, right? We've worked things out?"

"Uh…"

"I just… agh, I'm butchering this." He sighed. "Look, I just… I keep thinking, sometimes, about how we met. How you were just a kid, and I… I sent you away, in the snow." He stopped walking. "If you weren't a ghost, or whatever you are… you'd be dead for sure. I mean, what kind of man does that?" His expression darkened a little. "What kind of man…"

Danny didn't know what to say to that. He watched Stan come back to himself a little, and sigh.

"Sorry. I just… I guess it was just a new low for me. I really was glad to see you come back, kid. Really glad." He looked forward, pointedly away from Danny. "Uh, anyway, that was a trainwreck. Wanna keep going and never talk about that again?"

Danny shrugged at him, and he gave a nervous chuckle.

"Yeah, uh, fair enough." He started forwards, gripping the flashlight. "Let's find you that ectoplasm, kid."

They kept walking some more, going downhill, and Danny kept his eyes off the trail, looking into the darkness. A few times he opened his mouth, a thought half-formed on his tongue… but it never really materialised. What did he think about Stan? He was okay, Danny supposed, but he couldn't really get around the fact that his best case scenario was getting out of here as soon as possible and never seeing the man again. That didn't exactly feel like the most encouraging thing to say.

He glanced at Stan, and away again. God, this was so awkward. He heard a scream in the forest again, and a small part of him thought it wouldn't be so bad if a bear came out and attacked them right now. It'd break the ice, at least.

"Look at that!"

Stan's voice made him glance over, then follow the beam of the flashlight to the base of a tree. He didn't see anything at first, but the beam drifted a bit and he saw a corner of dim green glow in the darkness. There was a whole glistening mass of it at the base of the tree, and as he watched, Stan came running up to it.

"This looks like the stuff!" He bent down, and wrinkled his nose. "Eugh, probably should've brought a bucket or something."

It was oddly silent all of a sudden. Danny looked around, and then up, and then stopped dead. "Stan…"

"Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is it. What do you wanna do with it?"

"Stan-"

"Do you wanna, I dunno-" Something wet landed on his shoulder, and he blinked. "Huh, is it raining?"

"Stan, it's not raining."

"Not raining? What do you-" another thick glob of ectoplasm landed on his head, and he paused for a moment, before lifting his head up, up, up, and locking eyes with the twin rows of greying fangs and rotting gums hovering just above his head.

"Ah, crap."

Y̸̛͕͍͓̻̱͊̀͊̓͠O̴̧̻̮̮̽͒͗̃̌́̔̈́̏̒̾̈́͒̍̈͘Ṳ̷̏͆̂͆̊̚̕ ̸̢̧̢̛͇̻̬̺͉̰̳̥̠̗͓̈́̀̈̀͆̀̂͋͛̕̕ͅD̴̛̥̥̟̞͚͓̪̱̥͉͖͔͍͖̞̓͗͆̑͗̂͌͊͝Ạ̵̩͚̘̀̈̎̈́͗̆̈R̷̡̙͎͖͖̤̲̺̬̫͎͚͎̞͖̲̎̒̅̇̏͗̊̋͗͝͠ͅE̷̥̼̤̮͍͇̟͍͔̮̤̹͚̯̍̂͂̑͆̈́͆̐͒̍͜͜ͅ ̸̧̛̰̖͙̬̤͖͙̹̞͋͒́̄͐̉͘T̵̳̤̰̼̋̾̈̀̈́͘O̵̡̳͔͙̥̥͚͙͕̪͎̍̍̊̀̔̃́͂̇͐͌͐͌͋͝͠ͅͅ ̷̥͖͔͙̬͔̰̫̣̯̼͖͊̃̅͒́͑T̸̬͎̜̩̮̝̭͚̬͎̦͊R̶̲͚͕̠͖̠̩͈͚̆͜Ȩ̴̛͕̘̻̩̻̯͉̹̫̒͛͗̓͑A̷͚̽̄̏͗͊D̶͓̰͖̺̼̯̪͎͖̭̘͉̦̋̄̓̔̋̇̿̏͑͝ͅ ̶̧̫̹͍̖̪͒̃̏̊̉̌͋̓̈́̏̍͋Ĭ̴͈̜͋N̴̡̙̓̅́ ̶͎͙̼̗̤͔͕͚̟̹͎̓T̶̜̥̬͍̳̫̮͙͎̦͔̟̜̼̃͒̌̈́̉̓̇̉͗̑Ḥ̴̢͉̲̝͗̈́̈̈́̀͒̂̃̃̈̈́ͅẺ̴̡̡̨͓͎̬͉̩̻̮̖̌̈́̽̑̀ ̷͓̒̋̍̓̈́͌̓̾̔̇͑̓̚͝S̷̛̥̞̝̳̦͙̰̈́̾̈̇̅̀͆̌͗͌̀̕͘͝Ą̶̰̖͚̮͕̬̊́C̴̢̲͖̳̅Ȓ̷̝̫͍͚̦̔͊̈́͒͝Ȩ̷͕̼͙͖̘͍̾̈́D̸̙̟͉̠͈̬̜̈͗̽̄̐͂́ ̷̛̱̫͙̪͚͚͈̟̰̔̓̈̎̊̂̌̓̓͒̾̂̈́̚͠͠B̸̨̪̫̮̰̘͚̅̐̏L̴̨̨̨̢̨̛͔͈̪̹̬͍̳̣̩̫̄̌̄͒̽͊͋̓́͆̾͋͗̌͂̕͜O̵̢̠̝̭͉͂̽̈́̈̈͋̋Ǒ̷̝͈̯̇͒̌̓͗͒́̇͜D̸̨̛̙̞̰͈͍̼̦̦͚̟͖̘̦̉̍͋̏͛̃̓́̈́̊̅̅̈̚Î̷̢͇͉͙̥̤͋̂̿̀́̀̀͌͛̈́͋̀͠E̸̢̢̳̩͓͍̰̣̰̭͍͈̰̥̠͈͐̄̔̉̒͌̀̏̿͠D̷̨̡̡̺͇̼̙̣̻̦̪͙̀́̀̀͂̉̂̈́̍̈́̆͌͋̽̃̀͠ͅ ̶̨͈̬̞̤͇́̀̑͑̒ͅG̴̡̨̫̦̥͉̻̩̦̟̰̬͎͎̮̓̿̒̉͋̓̏̉̈́̃̈́͐̿͠R̸̢̳̭̼̉̎̎̓͘Ǫ̵̡̛̫̘̺̲̰̺̩͙̠̝̌̿̑̾̈́̚͠͝Ṵ̷̧͍̞̦̅͊͂͆̊̓̿̎̓ͅN̷̙̻̿D̴̨̡͖̹̮̙̤͖̺̮̼̮͎̜̾̌͋̌̎͗̇̑̎̂͆͗̚̚͘Ş̶̛͉̮̟͌̈́̈́͑̈́͂͆̕͝ ̸̢̳̻͎̭̞͖͕̫̠̭̥̙̯̖͗̔̋̿̓͐͐̐̆̌̑̊͐̕͝ͅǪ̷͚̗̲̙͔͉̣͕̾́̉̅͊̊̋̉̈́͂̏̚͜F̷̨̬̩̝͓̭̮̰͖̟̉͐͜͠ ̵̛̜̑̍͒̇̏̆͊T̶̗̩̦͓̻́̔͆͊̌͝Ő̷̢̱̻̲̠̬̦̖̌͋̈́̀͋̋̃͑͝Ŗ̵̡̡̧̫͙͔̱͇̹̝̙̱̹̏̏̊̂́̋͌̓͑͆͗͠ͅT̵̨̧̛͔̺̘̞̹͓̫̘̒̿̂͑̈́́͌̇̌͐̍͘͝ͅȔ̷͉͙̼̫̩̩͉ͅĢ̴͈̳̱̫͎̤̎́͜A̵͇̣̯̔̊̀͂̀͗͆͊͒̅̈́̔̎̾̈͝͝ͅG̷̪̪͔͎̹͌̅͒̓͗̚G̸̢̛̮̫̼̯̣͎̺̬̥͌͆͑̍̑̿͌̽̋͑̀̈́͝͠Ę̸̗͚̳̙̪̼̬̖͈̻̦̿͋̍̾̀̾̏R̴̞̺̗͙̞͓̻̤̉̋̀͆͂̆͠͠͠ ̸̧̯͎̫̼̗̞͔̪̰̔̓͒Ṱ̶̛̠̎̎̊̉͋̾̄̓͑̓͗͑H̴̜̺̩̠̤́̾̍̌͗͊̕͝Ę̶̦̻̘̝̝̥̞͇͈͕̥̲̪̹͓͚̑̇͗̈͋͗͝͝ ̷̢̡̫̖͇͉͇̘̟̲̋̈́͐̿̎̉͝T̷͇͍͔̼̗̳̥̉͑̐̇̇̌̊̅̍͂̾Ẃ̴̱͙̦͓͉̺̘̜̲̟̫̺̀̌̑̅̄Ï̷̢̡̧̨̺̯̦̱͖͕̻̭̎͌̎͜͜͜S̷̢̨̧̨̛̙̲̞̫͖̳̠͎͎̜̐͂̍̒͐͌̇̈́̓̋ͅṪ̸̪͚̲̖̞̗̫̬͔I̸͙̪̣̲͇͇͖̙͉͋̿̽̇̑͛̋̎̓̕̚͠͝N̸̡̞̦̮̱̠̘͓̗̞̙̮͍͎̎̀̍͐͌͘͜͜G̵̫͓͚͙̘̺̻̙̜̳͙̞͓͂̽̂̑̀̓̀̽͛̾͂ ̷̢͇̫̟̜̠̮̰̪͓̙̯̟̃̋͒̈͊́̽́͑̔͛́́̋̽͆͜ͅB̴̧̻̜̘̟͇͕̞̫̹̈́̅̇̌̀̅̉̈́̌̇̀̇L̷̡̨̳̝̹̼̯̬̄͗̆̑́̾̈͗̕̕̕ͅÁ̵̛̜̪͓͕̳͎̯͕̮̺̖̙̀̈̍̀̈́͋̑̈́̀̌̅͌͒͠ͅͅD̵̢̨̯̬̱̹̻̻̬̳͓͚͖̺̼̽̓̒́ͅͅĘ̵͉͈̳̰͖̥͉̪͆̀̀̓̏͊̃̔̏̌͝ͅ ̴̡̧̲͇͓̜̭͉̱̣̬͍̲͇̈́͊̈́̒̈́̓̀̊͌̌̆̋̄I̵̛̛͖͓͖̞̖̫̯̫̟̻͍͉̼͗̿͝ ̷̢̢͔̣͔̣͎̘̳̟̫͉͂̑͂́̽͆͛̏̀̑̈́̍̅̈́̚͜͠W̴̢̡͈̩̹̬̙̰̹̜̃͠͝I̷̢̗͇̜͍̩͙̣̓͆̿̐̇̍͒̀̔̋͒͠L̵͓͚̫͕̺̹̰̻̰̲̥͙̮͓̃̂̂͠ͅͅL̷̛̟̳̝̯̥͎͚̥̰̼͍̳̒̀͒͋̆̈́͂̽̔́͘̕͠ ̶̡̞̞̬̟̮͎̬̝̱̯̖͖͉̃̉̍̋̏̈́̂̎̐̎̍̆̽̈̆̄Ř̶̨̝̤̠͙̪̮̜͋͋̌̉̂̀̃̐͂̉͂̉̈́͑ͅE̷̜̪͖̟̔͆͋̋̆̑͝N̶̼̥͓̞̺̹͋͂͗͑̄͊͊͗͊̎͗̈́̚̚͠D̵̟̝̼̭̬̼̻̬̦̖̤͈͕̤̓̅ ̸̛͍͌̓͂̇͝Y̵̡̛̻̯̺̯̙͊̇̋͒͌̃͂̈́̈́̈͐͌͋͜O̷̢̜̦̙̻̱͙͎͈̲̝͙̼̳̟̰̲͛́̈́͐̌̅͌̓̏́̈́̓Ű̴̢̧̢̘̤͉̬̖͎͓̬̜̟͚̟̪̓̈́͂̿̽̌͜͝͝ ̶̛̣͓̦̥̯͙̤̣̿́̐̏̅͘̚͠A̷̡͖̟̣͚̥̥̝͕̪̐͜P̷͙͇̘̞͛̆Ạ̷̧̡̧̛̯̹̤̫̘̳̥̗̦͚͓͚̳̒͂̾͛͊̏͊͌̃͘R̵̡̞̰͓̱̦̼͙̤̟̖̬̼̟̰̬̭̀̔̄̐̿́̄̋̈́͠Ţ̸̦̱̭̘͉̤̿́̈́̉̀̈́͝ ̴̨̡̠̮̯̼̯̫̲̼̰͙̬̯̗̝̣͋̀̈́́̂̈́͊̕͝I̷̠͚̺͐̓͌̿̀̉̍̽̋ ̴̪̓̄̾̒͒̐͐̓͂̽͐̈́̚͘W̸͍̉̃͠Ĭ̸̢̗̻͎̠̭͕͎̠̠̩̠̠͓̹̀͆̐̆̈̀͆̓̔̚̕͠L̸̝̞͔̪͔͚̉͗L̸̫̺͍͕̻̐ ̴̜͚̦̭̘̱͚̫͇̫̲͔͎͑̅̈̂̕͜ͅR̶̨̨̢̞̠̰̙͇̪̘͙̤̽͋̈́̎I̸̦̝̝̥̰͠P̴̪̜̒̓̽̆̓̆͋͑͐̆̀͋͌́̒̕ ̸̨̦̬̝̭̮͙̯͎̥̳̯̩͉͐́̇̈́̇͑͐̈́͛͒͠A̷̧̖̻̬͙͓̪̜̺̟̜̮̐̎̄͒N̶̡̰͓̲̬̼̈́͐̉͋̌̈́̔̊̀̓̍̓̚Ḑ̶̲͇̺̞̻̎̍̅͋̓͑̿͝ ̴̧̧̛̗͉̮̘͔̠̥͕̈́̎͘͝Ť̶̨͇̠̤̳͖̰̹̜̣͆͂́͊́E̷̛͖̽̄̐̄́̈́͆͝A̶̡̛̭̻̭̲̠̻͋͒̀̓͐̒̿͜R̸͇̥̪̋̈́͊̎̂̎͂́

"Danny!" Stan gestured frantically. "Little help here!"

Danny was already diving for him; he tackled Stan just as the teeth came down and phased them both through the massive tree trunk. They broke through the canopy, and caught their breath under the light of the moon.

"Oh… oh, wow. That was close." Stan looked down at the tops of trees whizzing past them, and gripped him a little tighter. "Jesus, um. Maybe should've mentioned this before… I got a fear of heights."

"You want me to land?" Danny could see the Shack as a dot of light in the distance. "It shouldn't be much longer, but-"

"No, no, keep going. I'll… I'll deal."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." His voice was oddly high. "Yeah, hah, nooo worries!"

"Okay…" Danny said, and glanced back at the forest. "Jeez, that was… I don't even want to know what that was. Not going into that forest again."

"You said it." Stan gingerly wiped at his hair. "At least we got some ectoplasm, right?"

Danny saw the slimy substance flecking off his hair in the wind, and suppressed a gag. "Uh, I know we went through that whole thing just to get some of it, so no offence, but-"

"You don't want it."

Danny paused, and then nodded. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, pretty much."

"So this was all pointless, huh?"

"...Yup."

They finally met each other's eyes, and the two of them sniggered a bit, and then burst into laughter. Danny didn't even know why this was was so funny, but he laughed and laughed until his stomach hurt, and they were still laughing by the time they touched down at the porch.

"That was…" Stan looked into the woods, and burst into another fit of laugher. "Oh, man, that was pure dumb!"

"I can't believe you let me talk you into that." Danny shook his head. "Alright, that's - that's enough for me tonight. I'm going to bed."

"And I'm going to take a long shower!" He looked at Danny, and his smile faded a bit. "Well, sorry about all this, kid. Hope you sleep well."

"You too, Stan." Danny watched him make for the door, and quickly added: "I don't hate you, by the way."

Stan looked back.

"I mean," Danny made a face. "It wasn't… fun, having to go out on my own like that. It really wasn't. And I was dreading having to go back to you after Wisconsin, but… it hasn't been terrible, here, I guess." He gave a shrug, and looked up at Stan. "I dunno."

"Hm. Not terrible, huh." A small, warm smile grew on his face. "I'll take it, kid. Thanks."

Then he held open the door for Danny, and the two of them went inside.

(And three days later, Danny woke up and found the spots had cleared up on his face, and everything was back to the strange little normal it had settled into.)