Author's note: Hahahahaha I'm such a liar...
Disillusioned
I sense that something is different
...
Maddie and Jack sat together on the living room sofa. In silence. Waiting. A foot of space between them.
Maddie took yet another peek at Jack out of the corner of her eye. His arms were folded across his belly as he stared at the far wall, eyes slightly lidded, stony and cold. She could hear each of his breaths rolling deep in his chest.
She looked forward again and curled her fingers into fists up near her knees on top of her thighs. She recalled another late afternoon when she and Jack waited for Danny to return home after school so they could discuss something serious with him, the day after he snuck out of the house well past curfew to steal drugs from Sam's mother.
Of course, Maddie knew now that Danny was actually cornered in an alley that night, kneeling with his hands on his head, waiting for his own mother to execute him.
But Jack still believed the lie, that Danny was simply a poor wayward teen with a painkiller addiction and not a ghost hybrid moonlighting as a superhero. Jack very much still believed that Danny had to be punished for that incident, so they had waited together just like this for Danny to come home so the three of them could discuss what was to be done with him.
That day so many weeks ago, they had sat closer together, anxious together, worried together, partners.
But now Jack wouldn't even look at her. And Maddie had never felt more alone sitting beside him.
"I knew we should've had him see a therapist sooner," grumbled Jack, shifting the position of his legs.
Maddie flinched and rubbed her thighs with her knuckles. "Let's just wait until we hear Danny's side of the story."
"What side could he possibly tell us?" asked Jack.
"This isn't the first time Danny's run out of class. He used to do it all the time even before all this."
"Not like this. Not the way Rob described it happening this time."
"We need to hear how Danny describes it first."
"Won't change my mind. Danny needs to talk to someone."
Maddie crossed her legs and rhythmically bounced one foot in the air. She had no argument anymore, no excuses to keep delaying therapy for Danny.
She remembered how she used to want Jack to be more serious about Danny's problems, to be more decisive and active.
Now she wished things could go back to how they were, when she had more power and control, when Jack just surrendered to whatever she felt was best and she more or less had to do everything and make all the decisions.
Now she was afraid that any misstep might push Jack away forever. And she couldn't lose him. She needed him. She needed someone to be on her side. Her team.
She didn't want to be alone.
The front door opened, and soon Danny and Jazz walked into the living room. Jazz froze when she caught sight of Jack and Maddie. Danny groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, we need to talk, Danny," said Jack. "I think you know what about."
"Why don't you take a seat here, sweetie?" said Maddie, patting the armrest of the single sofa unit beside her. "Jazz, honey, can you go upstairs and get started on your homework?"
"It's the weekend," said Jazz in a small voice. "I don't have to get started right away."
"Jazz," said Maddie, her tone stern this time.
Jazz glanced at Danny before sighing and heading up the stairs to her room. Danny watched her until she was out of sight.
"Danny, please," said Jack, gesturing to the sofa.
Danny did not move right away, his eyes narrowed and mouth pursed. But then he obeyed and dropped his backpack to the floor before lowering himself into the single sofa seat. He folded his arms and waited.
Maddie looked at Jack for a silent exchange about who was going to speak first. Jack caught her eye but was quick to return his attention to Danny.
"We got an email from your English teacher, Mr. Lancer," said Jack.
Maddie could see Danny tense, but his face did not change.
"He said that you ran out of his class and never came back," said Jack. "Care to tell us more about that?"
Danny's folded arms tightened against him. Maddie reached over and gently squeezed his knee, pausing when she saw the bloodstain on his jeans. She blinked and shook her head, raising her eyes to Danny's face.
"We just want to hear your side of what happened, sweetheart," said Maddie, trying to wordlessly communicate to him through her touch that she knew he had to lie, had to give them some kind of false explanation and she was ready to go along with whatever he said but please please please say something believable this time.
Danny stayed quiet for a long time, staring at the floor. Maddie pulled her hand away and rested it in her lap.
"What exactly did Lancer tell you?" Danny finally asked, his voice hoarse. He swallowed and looked at Jack and Maddie.
"That's not important," said Jack. "We just want to hear what you—"
"He said that he decided to let the class play a game," Maddie cut in quickly. She could feel Jack glaring at her but ignored him. "'Would you rather,' that was the game, right?"
She could see Danny's veins popping up on the side of his head, the shallow breaths hitching in his lungs, his eyes widening as he tried to maintain his composure. He sat up straighter and pushed his folded arms into his abdomen.
Her own heart was racing, the adrenaline shooting through her making her legs shake. She uncrossed her legs and planted both feet flat against the floor.
She knew exactly what Danny was thinking about. Because she was thinking about it, too. The game they played in the lab, all the cruel choices she forced him to make as punishment for his impudence.
But she didn't know it was him, she didn't know she didn't know she didn't know so she wasn't a bad person because if she just knew she would've never—
Maddie breathed deep and rubbed her palms down her thighs.
"Mr. Lancer said that you seemed upset about something and when he tried to ask you about it, you ran out of the classroom," said Maddie. "He said he tried to follow you but you ran out of sight, and he couldn't leave the rest of the class unattended."
"Yes," said Jack. "Where did you go?"
"Why, uh—why did you leave in the first place?" asked Maddie. "Did something upset you, honey?"
Danny blinked only once before staring straight at her. She could practically see the answer in his head: Yes, Mom, something did upset me. Because I couldn't stop thinking about the last time I played that game when you yanked out my tooth and tried to boil both of my arms in hot ectoplasm.
Maddie could easily imagine what happened. Hyperventilating, that wild look in his eyes, exactly like Phantom whenever he panicked during an experiment.
"Has it, um, been overwhelming for you being back at school?" asked Maddie, hoping Danny would catch on and follow her lead.
Danny glared at her. "I don't need to be homeschooled, Mom."
"No, that's not—" Maddie tried to give him a look, a coded message in her face. "I'm just trying to figure out why you were so upset that you ran out of class, sweetie."
"Let him tell us, Maddie," said Jack, his tone reprimanding. "We don't need to try to figure it out when he's right here."
Maddie pressed her lips and looked at Danny again, widening her eyes to prompt him to just take the excuse she suggested, please.
Danny gave a small shake of his head as he leaned back and held his hands between his thighs. "School's been fine. I mean, yeah, I've had a lot of makeup work, but it's not overwhelming."
Maddie scrunched her mouth in disappointment.
"It's just… Well, it was the last class of the day, and Lancer—I don't know why, he just decided we should play a game," said Danny. "Really unlike him, usually he just lectures us about some book and then sometimes makes us have discussions in small groups. But today…"
Danny paused, his eyes crinkling as his gaze dropped to the floor.
"He just suddenly stopped lecturing and said we should play a game where we can get to know each other. He was talking about how…how it had been a long semester and a long year and that he wouldn't even see some of us next year. Like Sam and Tucker are taking AP classes next year, you know? So they're not going to have Lancer as a teacher at all. In fact, I'm probably not going to be in any classes with them for the next two years."
Danny's hand went up to his neck, scratching at his collarbone.
"And it just got me thinking about how I had missed nearly six weeks of school and everyone had carried on and gotten ahead while I'm still trying to catch up. Everyone got closer to each other while I feel almost like some weird new kid that everyone feels sorry for. And so here we all were playing this get-to-know-you game, and—I don't know."
Danny lifted his hands, palms up, let them drop onto his thighs.
"I guess it just kind of freaked me out," he muttered.
Maddie held in a groan because why couldn't Danny just follow her lead? Jack was never going to buy this story.
"I really didn't want to play the game and Lancer was trying to make me play, so I just left." Danny shrugged. "And I never came back because Lancer said he wanted us to play for the rest of class."
"You really ran out of class because you didn't want to play a game?" asked Jack, raising a brow.
"I—I don't think I ran out," stammered Danny.
"Mr. Lancer said you ran out. He said you appeared quite shaken."
"Um. Yeah, well, I guess I was a little."
"Mr. Lancer did not make it sound like it was just a little, Danny."
Danny's mouth opened and closed several times, different sounds coming out but no actual words, beginnings of sentences he couldn't finish.
"Did you feel like everyone's lives just moved on without you, sweetheart?" asked Maddie, leaning in closer to Danny. "Did that make it difficult to play the game, because Mr. Lancer wanted you to get to know people who suddenly felt like complete strangers to you? Or perhaps you were worried they see you as a stranger now?"
Danny hesitated before nodding.
"You really were absent from school a long time, almost six weeks like you said," continued Maddie. "Did you perhaps feel like Mr. Lancer was making the class play that game because of you? Like he wanted everyone to get to know you specifically again? Did that make you uncomfortable?"
Danny breathed deep before nodding again.
"Maddie," murmured Jack disapprovingly.
"Jack, I know our son," Maddie whispered over her shoulder. "I'm just helping him put his feelings into words."
Jack sighed. "Fine, so the game made you uncomfortable. Why did you run out of the classroom? Why didn't you just stay there and tell Mr. Lancer you didn't want to play?"
Maddie turned back to Jack more fully. "Because he—"
"Maddie, please," said Jack. "Just let Danny answer."
Maddie swallowed, her lips pressing together tightly, grimly. She turned back to Danny with an apologetic frown as nervous energy ached in her lower body. She tightly crossed her legs and clasped her hands against her thighs as she waited for Danny to speak.
"Lancer and I never really got along," said Danny, almost in a mumble as he directed his words to the floor. "I thought he would just make some crack about how I always used to sleep during his lectures and then the one time he lets us play a game, I don't even want to do that."
"And you thought he wouldn't have anything to say about you just running out of the room?" asked Jack.
"It just freaked me out, okay?" said Danny. "I don't really know how to explain it, but I just felt like I needed to get out of there. And I knew Lancer wouldn't just let me leave, so I just…didn't ask his permission."
Danny hunched over, his bangs obscuring the top half of his face. Maddie longed to reach over and pull him into a hug, to whisper in his ear that she would take care of everything, don't worry, she would somehow make all of this go away.
But she forced herself to stay still, pressing her crossed legs and clasped hands together even tighter.
"Danny," said Jack softly, a gentle tone that Maddie couldn't even remember the last time she had heard him use it.
Danny looked up, his expression bewildered.
"I'm sorry if we've made you feel like you're in trouble," Jack continued. "You're not. It's okay that something happened in class today that made you leave. We just want to know how we can help you."
Danny inhaled, his nails raking over his jeans.
"Is that really why you ran out of class?" asked Jack. "Or is there more you're not telling us?"
Danny chewed his bottom lip and lowered his gaze.
"You can talk to us, Danny." Jack's tone was now pleading. "You can talk to me."
Danny's hands shook as he clutched at his jeans. His lips trembled, and for a moment, Maddie was worried he was going to cry.
But then he straightened up, his eyes dry. He folded his arms and looked past Maddie right at Jack.
"I know I'm a lot jumpier now than I used to be," said Danny calmly. "And sometimes I just can't control it. Things weren't exactly easy when I was on my own those three weeks I ran away."
Jack leaned in toward Danny. "Is there more you haven't told us about those three weeks you were gone?"
Maddie's stomach flipped several times. She crossed her arms and pressed them hard into her middle.
"Not really. I mean, nothing ever actually happened." Danny scratched behind his ear. "I mean, nothing like what you think might've happened."
"What do you think I think might've happened?" asked Jack.
"Um." Danny pinched the front of his neck. "Really, Dad, I was fine." He paused. "But there were times I was scared. I won't deny that. Being on my own with no one around to turn to…" He paused again, keeping his eyes averted. "Yeah, sometimes people out there scared me. And I guess it's just made me a little…on edge lately. I overreact sometimes. I keep running away when I should face my problems."
He breathed deep and raised his eyes to Jack.
"I shouldn't have run out of class," he said. "I won't do it again."
"Danny, really, it's okay," said Jack. "We don't want you bottling up whatever you're feeling. But next time you feel you need to leave during class, we want you to go see the school counselor."
"Or you can call one of us," cut in Maddie. "We can come pick you up if needed."
"Yes, of course you can always call us," said Jack, shooting Maddie a wary scowl. "But the school counselor is there to help you anytime you need to see her. Because we won't always be available."
"I will," said Maddie emphatically, reaching toward Danny with one hand but never actually touching him. "I'll drop everything for you, sweetie."
Jack sighed and shook his head.
"Thanks," said Danny, moving away from her. "But I really don't think it's going to happen again."
Maddie smiled at him, trying to catch his eye, but he wouldn't look at her.
"Well." Jack cleared his throat. "As you know, your mom and I have been looking for a new therapist for you. We're going to try searching a little harder for a good fit, but in the meantime, Mr. Lancer mentioned in his email that he can arrange for you to speak with the school guidance counselor every day after school until the semester's over."
Danny bolted into an upright position. "Every day? After school?"
"Unless you'd rather speak to her during lunch," said Jack. "Or before school. Mr. Lancer says her schedule is flexible."
"But I—" Danny's eyes darted to Maddie before returning to Jack. "But I don't want to talk to a counselor. Or a therapist. I'm fine, really."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Danny," said Jack. "You don't have to keep saying that you're fine when you're not."
"But I am. I—" Danny stopped, his mouth hanging open for a few silent seconds before he closed it and lowered his eyes, hanging his head.
"Kids who are fine don't run away from home or out of class," said Jack, his tone firm but not unkind. "They don't go out stealing painkillers from their friends' parents either."
Danny did not raise his head.
"The semester's almost over, sweetie," said Maddie, reaching for him again, watching for a flinch. When he did not react, she lightly patted his knee a couple times, right above the blood patch on his jeans. "Just next week and then finals after that. You only need to see the counselor every day for one week."
"Unless we find a therapist sooner," said Jack.
Maddie did not turn to acknowledge Jack. She tilted her head, trying to meet Danny's downward gaze, hoping to reassure him that she was still in his corner, that they were in this together. "Okay, sweetie? You can do this for us, can't you?"
"It's not about doing it for us," said Jack, sounding annoyed. "We just want to help you, Danny. That's all we've ever wanted."
Danny did not look up for some time. Then he breathed in and lifted his head, a soft smile tugging his mouth but not his eyes.
"I know," he said. "I will talk to the counselor if that's really what you want me to do."
"It is," said Jack without missing a beat.
"Okay." Danny's voice was hoarse and low. He nodded and swallowed. "Can I go up to my room now?"
"Yes," said Maddie.
"You don't have anything else you want to talk about?" asked Jack.
"No," said Danny. "I just want to get started on my makeup work. I'm still hoping I can take all my finals on time."
"You're so studious now," said Jack, sounding jocular but also suspicious.
Danny smiled, weakly. "Isn't that what you've been nagging me about ever since I started high school?"
"But you can take a break now and then," said Jack. "It is Friday."
"I just have to work hard now so I can finish the semester on time," said Danny. "I'll take a nice long break over the summer."
"Yes, true, we'll plan plenty of fun things for the summer," said Maddie.
"Right, yes, fun things." Danny stood. "So can I go now?"
"Of course, sweetie," said Maddie. "Let us know if you need help with any of your homework."
Jack said nothing.
Danny hesitated before leaving and heading up the stairs, disappearing as he turned the corner into the hall. Maddie watched him until he was out of sight.
Beside her, Jack's silence became very noticeable and tense. Maddie turned to him, noting the disgruntled look on his face.
"What?" asked Maddie.
"Nothing," said Jack. "Nothing I haven't already said."
Maddie pursed her lips.
"You know he's hiding something from us, right?" said Jack.
Maddie shivered but tried to hide it with a shrug. "Whatever it is, he'll tell us when he's ready."
"You really think so?"
"Do you not?"
"Not anymore."
Maddie bit her lip, noting how Jack's expression was somber now, almost sad.
"I don't think he's going to open up to us, Mads," said Jack. "I really think we need a professional to help us out."
"I—I think so, too," stammered Maddie. "I just—ah—I don't want to—"
"You don't want to push him, I know," said Jack, sounding tired. "You're afraid that if we push him too hard that he might run away again or—well, something worse."
Maddie rubbed her arms and tightened her crossed legs.
"But he's been home three weeks now," Jack continued. "We can't just let him go on like this. You know we can't."
Maddie looked down at the floor and gave a half-hearted nod.
Jack rose to his feet and headed toward the basement door.
"Where are you going?" asked Maddie, lifting her head.
"I'm going to email some therapists from that list I sent you earlier this week, see if we can schedule a preliminary meeting with them," said Jack.
"I can do that," said Maddie, trying not to sound frantic.
"But you haven't," said Jack. "And I don't think we should wait anymore. I'll use the computer down in the lab. You can join me if you want."
Jack opened the basement door and started down the stairs. Maddie stood and approached the basement doorway but did not follow him.
"I'll be down in a minute," said Maddie. "Just, uh—I need to talk to Jazz about some grad stuff first."
Jack gestured with his hand above his shoulder to indicate he heard her but did not turn around. Maddie closed the basement door and quickly headed up the stairs, down the hall, past Jazz's room, stopping at Danny's closed door. She knocked a couple times before opening it.
Danny was seated at his desk, textbook open and pen in hand. He looked up as Maddie entered and closed the door behind her.
"Hey, uh…" Maddie paused, trying to figure out the right words, the best way to start. She looked around the room, the familiar framed junior astronaut certification and NASA posters on the walls, the Dumpty Humpty CDs and astronomy books on the shelves above his dresser, the glow-in-the-dark stars tacked onto the ceiling in patterns resembling various constellations.
But what was not familiar was how clean and organized the room was. No dirty clothes on the floor or hanging out of drawers, no open comic books or collectible knickknacks cluttering the top of the dresser. Even the bed was made.
It was almost as if she had stepped into a new dimension, some strange corner of the Ghost Zone that somewhat resembled her teenage son's bedroom.
"Mom?"
Maddie blinked back to attention. Danny was staring at her, his eyes their normal blue color that perfectly matched Jack's. No contacts to hide the corneal scar.
Maddie cleared her throat. "Mr. Lancer sent that email to both of us, I couldn't stop Dad from seeing it. But, um… I understand why playing that game was hard for you."
Danny pushed his chair away from his desk a couple feet. "Do you really?"
"Yes, of course," said Maddie, her neck warming. "And I've been holding off making you see a therapist as long as I could, but Dad isn't going to accept excuses anymore, and I've run out of them anyway. So you really are going to have to speak to the counselor next week every day after school." Maddie tapped a finger to her chin a couple times. "I'll ask Vlad about overshadowing her to make sure she doesn't remember anything she shouldn't."
"He owes me at least that much," muttered Danny.
"Hmm? What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that it's fine, I'll talk to the counselor if it'll make Dad happy."
Maddie took a seat on the edge of Danny's desk. "He's still set on finding you a real therapist to talk to, someone who specializes in PTSD."
Danny furrowed his brow. "But what makes him think—?"
"Danny, it's the way you're acting," said Maddie. "The jumpiness, staying in your room all day and night, mood swings, suddenly running out of class—just some very classic signs there." She sighed. "Eventually you might have to come up with some story to explain it."
"What kind of story?" asked Danny, sounding uneasy.
"I can help you decide if you want. I just want it to be something you're comfortable telling people." Maddie twirled a lock of her hair near her ear. "But I will tell you that Dad thinks some sick person might've done things to you."
She stopped, feeling the blood rushing into her face and then leaving just as quickly.
"I mean—ah—you know, someone other than me," she stammered, her mouth drying up as she tried to fan her face with her hand. "I—I don't have to explain what I mean, do I?"
Danny shook his head. "No, I understand." He rubbed his upper arms and looked off to the side. "I don't want the kids at school to think something like that happened to me, though."
"But it's better than the truth, isn't it?" asked Maddie.
Danny returned his gaze to her but said nothing.
Maddie noticed the bloodstain on his jean pant leg again. "So what happened to your knee there?"
Danny looked down at his right knee, straightening out his leg a little before bending it again. "I just tripped."
"Can I see it?"
"It's nothing, really."
"Danny, show me."
Danny huffed but obediently rolled up his pant leg to just above his knee. Maddie gasped at the sight, a raw patch of scraped skin and clotted blood.
"Did you not clean that yet?" she rebuked.
"It just happened like an hour ago," Danny shot back.
"You could've rinsed it off with water, at least."
"I literally had no time to do that."
"You have to make time when you hurt yourself like this."
"Why?"
"Danny." Maddie lowered her voice to an irritable hiss, moving in closer to him, away from the door. "How many times do I have to tell you that your missing spleen makes you vulnerable to infection?"
Danny narrowed his eyes. "Whose fault is it that I'm missing a spleen, Mom?"
Maddie grimaced. "Don't take that tone with me."
"Or what? You'll ground me?" Danny held her stare, unwavering. "Lock my head up in a box?"
Maddie growled and left the room, down the hall and to the master bathroom connected to the bedroom she shared with Jack. She leaned over the counter, hanging her head and gripping the edge as she breathed, steadied herself, breathed again.
She lifted her head and stared at herself in the mirror. Stringy bangs falling over her forehead, wrinkles and worry lines, blemishes she was sure weren't there even just a few days ago.
She needed to start wearing makeup again. She hated looking this awful, this ugly.
She hated the thought of people seeing her look like this even more.
She grabbed a glass of water and some first aid supplies from the bathroom closet before returning to Danny's room. He was still sitting in his desk chair, hadn't moved at all, his pant leg still rolled up over his skinned knee.
Maddie set the first aid items on the floor and knelt in front of Danny. She began cleaning the wound, first rinsing it with water from the glass and then washing it with soap. Danny winced but did not protest or move away.
"So how did you trip?" asked Maddie as she worked.
"Oh. Um." Danny hesitated. "I was running and my leg just…gave out." He chewed his lip and scratched his neck. "I think maybe this is the leg you broke."
Maddie looked up, horrified. Danny sheepishly hung his head.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"No, you shouldn't be sorry. I'm sorry." Maddie used one hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. "And I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. It's just—I want to help you but I know it's my fault you're like this and—"
More tears. Maddie gritted her teeth and lowered her head as she tried to fight them back. She returned her attention to Danny's knee, rubbing antibiotic ointment into his wound and then covering it with a bandage. She then gathered the first aid supplies in one arm and used Danny's desk to push herself to a standing position with her free hand. Danny remained in his desk chair and rolled his pant leg back down over his knee.
"Let me have those jeans when you take them off so I can try to wash out that bloodstain," said Maddie, sniffling.
Danny nodded. "Sure."
He looked up at her with tired eyes smudged dark with inadequate sleep. Maddie frowned, noticing just how thin and pale his face was now, his skin sinking noticeably beneath his cheekbones, his lips dark with visible cracks. His shirt sleeves appeared loose around his arms, his collarbones jutted at the base of a delicate neck.
His strong adolescent physique from just a couple months ago was already fading. He looked so much more fragile now.
Not like Phantom's toned physique, nothing fragile there. She still remembered the bulge and squeeze of every muscle in his neck and arms and legs—
"Did you eat lunch today?" asked Maddie, banishing the memory from her head.
Danny tensed. "Yes."
"What did you eat?"
"Teriyaki beef with broccoli."
Maddie scrunched her mouth, skeptical. She scanned the room and noticed an unopened bag of chips in the trash can near his desk. She walked over and picked it up. "Isn't this the bag of chips you took from the kitchen earlier this week? The chips you promised you would eat when you refused to let me make you a snack?"
Danny froze. "Uh—well—I just got really distracted by all my homework—"
Maddie scowled. Danny sighed and hung his head.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"Danny, I know that eating is hard for you when you're feeling bad." Maddie's tone was pleading. "And I know better than anyone just how bad you're feeling right now. But you can't keep doing this to yourself. You look weak."
He raised his eyes to meet hers, their icy brilliance the only point of color amidst his translucent skin.
"This is the worst I've ever seen you look," she murmured just above a whisper.
Danny's eyes hardened. "So I looked better with my insides spilling out on your table?"
Maddie could not speak for a moment. "That's not fair," she finally managed to choke out.
"So now you're gonna tell me what's fair," said Danny, folding his arms.
Maddie closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose, then out through her mouth. She opened her eyes again and tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke. "I can't take back what I did. All I can do is try to get you healthy again." She paused. "I just want to be your mother again. If you'll let me."
Danny shrugged. "I don't really feel like I have a choice there."
"You chose to come back home, didn't you?"
Danny lowered his gaze to the floor. He did not reply.
Maddie set the unopened bag of chips on his desk, still holding the first aid supplies in her other arm. "So it's Friday. If I order pizza for us tonight, do you promise to eat some of it? Or is there something else you'd rather eat?"
"Pizza's fine," said Danny. "But that reminds me. Sam and Tucker have birthday gifts they want to give me, so I'm going to be hanging out with them tomorrow."
Maddie sucked the inside of her cheek. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"I'm not asking your permission."
Maddie faltered in her stance, stumbling back half a step.
"I put off talking to Sam and Tucker about what happened when I went missing for as long as I could," Danny continued. "I have to tell them something convincing."
Maddie rubbed her upper arm. "Will you let me know what story you decide to tell them?"
"Why?" Danny cocked his head. "You're not supposed to know anyway."
Maddie stared at him, a thought striking through her mind, a nagging voice insisting this couldn't be Danny, no, the real Danny wouldn't talk to her like this but Phantom would, yes, Phantom was often rude and disrespectful to her and had to be punished for it but Danny was always her sweet boy who would never—
Maddie shook her head. Because no, this was Danny. She was talking to Danny and he was talking to her, Danny Danny Danny and not a ghost just trying to trick her into thinking he was her son.
Even if it was the sort of thing Phantom would do—
"Ah—so Sam and Tucker are giving you birthday gifts tomorrow?" said Maddie, nearly choking on excess saliva in her mouth. She swallowed and cleared her throat. "Then we should give you our gifts tonight. I could bake you a cake—is vanilla still your favorite?"
"No. I mean, no, you don't have to—" Danny stopped, sighed. "Okay, fine. Vanilla's good."
The unwelcome voice of her inner scientist continued to invade Maddie's head as she left Danny's room and put all the first aid supplies away in her bathroom.
he's not Danny, he's an imposter, he's not your son, he's a ghost, he's Phantom, take him down to the lab and cut him open, see if there's any ectoplasm in his veins—
No, no, she couldn't, she wouldn't—
then pluck a hair, get some tissue samples, something you can test because it's the only way to be sure—
Maddie looked in her bathroom trash can, eyeing the wet cotton pads she had used to clean Danny's knee, the blood and scabs and bits of skin still clinging to them.
No.
She emptied the contents of the trash can into a plastic bag and took it to the dumpster right away. So Jack would never see it, not so she wouldn't be tempted. She wasn't tempted to experiment on parts of her son. Not at all.
Never again.
But as she watched Danny later that evening opening all of his gifts, she couldn't help noticing how underwhelming his reactions were. No excitement about the new video games that he had been begging for earlier that year, no enthusiasm about the Dumpty Humpty concert tickets. That was still his favorite band, wasn't it?
it was Danny's favorite band, but what if this isn't really Danny—
No, this was Danny, this was Danny, this was Danny. She yelled it at her inner scientist over and over like a mantra.
But he was so different now. He looked like Danny but seemed so empty, a shadow of the boy she used to know and hold in her arms.
But not a ghost. No. Certainly not that.
Danny began unwrapping another gift, laughing at some joke Jazz made. A hollow sound, void of any genuine mirth.
Maddie glanced at the door leading to the basement lab. Her doubt continued to fester.