When Sam died of old age, Danny was by her bedside, holding her hand. However, she didn't know he was there; he was invisible and intangible, as were his tears from silent sobs. He'd vowed to stop visiting after her kid was born. The child's name was Salem Manson, a little girl who grew up to be in her late seventies when her mother passed. She was holding Sam's other arm, sobbing and muttering sweet words to her deceased mother. Salem cried out that her mom wasn't really dead, but Danny knew different; he'd felt her pulse go away just moments prior.

Danny, childish as his fourteen year old appearance, longed for a familiar embrace of any kind. He wanted his parents, who had long since been buried. Maybe his sister, who was in a memory care facility just down the road from Sam's hospice. Or Tucker, buried near his late wife in New Jersey. No, none of those were options. Jazz was the only person he knew who was still alive, but she was declining quickly. A visit from her seemingly fourteen year old brother would wreck havoc on her dementia ridden mind. So Danny did the only thing he could think to do; he thought up a plan worthy of the Team Phantom days.

"Hey kiddo," the elderly Salem walked briskly towards him. She was a staunch ex-businesswoman. Even then, years after she had retired, she still wore perfectly pressed Italian suits. "What are you doing here alone? Where are your parents at?"

Danny laughed, the quick snort huffed out quickly. "Dead. Where are your parents?"

And Danny knew where her parents were. Her father, a man named Ivan McIntyre, died about five years prior. Danny made sure to keep track of his friends and their families, even as they aged without him. While Sam didn't want him around her Salem, as to avoid any confusion or danger, Danny still kept track of the Manson family (and yes, Ivan took Sam's name). For example, he knew Salem Manson, the only Manson child, had grown up with two amazing, dedicated parents. He knew she detested her mother's wild, alternative ways. She did put up with Sam's nature near the end, though begrudgingly. He also knew Salem to be a straight-shooting lawyer, which is why he expected nothing less than her next words.

"Haven't you heard to respect your elders, child? Hush yourself." Despite her cold words and demeanor, Salem sat next to Danny in the family waiting area. It was the middle of a hot summer night, a light drizzle sounding from the windows. One of them was open, and tiny droplets of rain seeped in from the opening.

"I guess." Danny shrugged, gaze going back down to his phone. He was playing a phone game he remembered being popular when he was in his twenties. It had been re-released as a vintage game just that year. "So what are you doing here? Not visiting your parents, I guess."

"Actually," Salem started, and Danny knew what she was about to say, but listened anyway, "I just left my mother's room."

Danny nodded, looking pointedly back at the woman before him. She'd aged gracefully, just as Sam had. Her pristine white hair was done up just so. There were minimal smile or laugh lines, which made her other lines and wrinkles seem deeper yet, though they were far enough between to be put aside. She had once been beautiful, and had grown to be graceful. All anyone could wish for as they grew older.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Danny spoke with a sort of sincerity, the kind that people in grief spoke to one another. "It's hard to lose a parent."

"I never said she died." Salem smoothed down her pantsuit, looking over at the leaking window. It was too high up for either of them to reach, earning a long sigh from the elder woman. "What a shame. Who would think to leave open such a high up window? And on a night like tonight. How unsightly."

"You know," Danny shifted, turning towards Salem fully now, "I know a thing or two about death. You might even say I'm somewhat of an expert."

Salem startled towards Danny, pursing her neatly lined lips. "You ought to mind your own business. It's rude to speculate."

"But I'm not speculating," Danny protested, phone forgotten on his lap as he raised both hands into the air. He laid them back down slowly on his jean covered knees. "What if…" deep breath in, deep breath out. "If I told you I knew your mom."

"I'd say you were lying," Salem snapped.

"But I'm not."

"How, then?" Salem whipped her head around as thunder rumbled, louder because the window was still open. "That goddamn window is going to make me lose my mind!"

Danny stood, earning Salem's distracted attention once more. "I'll get it."

"You will not," Salem chuckled the words humorlessly. "You're shorter than I am, young man. How do you expect to get up there? Because I certainly won't be helping you."

"I've got a trick to these things." Danny walked briskly over to the wall, looking up at the window. Small flecks of rainwater flew onto his nose, which he crinkled in response.

"Get back over here this instant, or you might catch a cold!" Salem chastised.

Danny looked back at her, smiling before turning towards the window again. He floated up towards the ceiling, letting his feet dangle. He snapped the window closed, effectively dampening the sound of the storm. Slow and controlled, he settled back onto the ground, toes touching down first, then heels a moment later. His body turned towards the only other person in the room. Salem's hands were covering her mouth, eyes wide and full of tears.

"You're him," she spoke so quiet, a normal person wouldn't have heard her. Lowering her hands, Salem's right index finger rose shakily towards him, manicured mail pointed like a compass needle towards the halfa. "The dead boy my— my mom when to school with."

"Yeah, not dead," Danny chuckled. "Just…walking the line, I guess."

Salem stood, and as well as Danny knew her and had watched her, he had no clue what she was going to do next. To his shock, she surged forward, wrapping trembling arms around him. "You look so young, I just assumed…you couldn't have been…"

"I am," Danny reassured her, hugging her back. "I really am."

The two embraced one another for a few long moments. Moments turned to minutes, though eventually they did break apart. Salem wiped inky makeup-stained tears from her face, staring down at Danny like she was seeing a ghost.

"Sit! Please, sit with me, won't you?" Salem begged, sitting down on a bench and motioning for Danny to follow. He did, settling so that he wasn't touching Salem's leg with his own, as he knew the chill he exuded could be off-putting. "I always thought you were just a story, you know? One of mom's eccentricities. Oh, I don't know how I could've missed it now that I look up close. You're just the same as the photos she showed me."

"Yeah, I know." Danny rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. "So…she really talked about me?"

"Oh, all the time as soon as I was old enough! She showed us the pictures she used to take. The news articles about Danny Phantom. I'd heard about him in history classes, but I never thought—" Salem choked on her next words. "I never thought you were real. We had debates, you know," she chuckled, "about whether the Phantom crisis of Amity Park was a group hallucination or not."

Danny threw his head back and laughed, unable to contain himself. "No, no. Definitely not a hallucination. I have the battle scars and ghostly powers to prove it."

Salem laughed along with him. At one point, she grabbed Danny's hands in her own, squeezing tight. "Goodness, you're as cold as ice. Just like she— she said."

As the topic of Sam resurfaced, Danny found himself looking away from Salem. Despite their temperamental differences, they looked remarkably alike. It hurt, deeply, knowing Danny had spent so long avoiding the girl he once loved.

"Why didn't you ever visit?" Salem interrupted Danny's train of thought. "I'm sure she must have reached out, over the years."

Danny looked down at their interlocked hands, blinking tears from his eyes. "I, uh, couldn't pull her back in. There were things…things that happened that couldn't happen again."

"Oh?"

A single wet laugh fell from Danny's lips. "When Sam— when…your mom got married to your dad, I was there. She told me it was too hard, to see me there, looking like this. Marrying her second love while I just…sat there, making her feel things she didn't want to. And of course, there was no future for us. I'm a child, for all everyone cares. She had to grow up, experience new things. I couldn't be the thing weighing her down.

"We tried to make things work as friends, but when you were born, it all became too much. Between the constant criticism from everyone else and the growingly dangerous ghost attacks, she couldn't do it anymore. So I left. I promised her I'd never interfere with her life, no matter what."

"But…" Salem spoke in a whisper. "Didn't she tell you how much she missed you? Because…she told us."

Danny wiped away alligator tears with the heel of his hand. He still refused to meet Salem's eyes. "She did. But I couldn't keep seeing her without…really seeing her. I was selfish. And now she's gone and I—" Danny started sobbing. "She didn't even know I was there, holding her hand."

Salem sobbed, hugging Danny to her as he did the same. "I'm so sorry Danny. I really am. I don't know what to say to make it better."

"It's not yours to make better." Danny pulled back, standing and taking a few steps away from Salem as he collected himself. "I should get going. It's not good for me to stay in one place too long, you know?"

"I suppose so," Salem relented, though she didn't seem too happy about it. "Will you visit? I…now that she's gone, I want to know more about her life. Do you think you could tell me about your time together?"

He smiled sadly, shaking his head once. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Good luck, Salem."

Danny was quick to leave Salem that night. He had other things to do before, the first of which was to go down the road and visit with his sister.

The walk in was a bit awkward, to say the least. He passed himself off as a distant relative of Jazz, to which his last name being the same as her maiden name helped. A nurse showed him to the room, holding some paperwork and flipping through it as she walked.

"Don't expect too much, alright?" the nurse warned, not even bothering to meet Danny's eyes.

"Excuse me?" Danny asked.

"Just saying. Jasmine Fenton…she's one of our tougher patients. So don't expect too much, ok?"

Danny nodded, walking into the room the nurse — Kim, her name tag read — stopped next to. "Thank you, miss."

"Whatever."

The room was small. Painted mint green. Adorned with various floral arrangements. Jazz would have liked it, had she been paying attention. Instead, she was sat next to the window, staring out with hazy eyes. Her long red hair had since been chopped back, grey waves falling just above her shoulders. She wore wide brimmed glasses, for what purpose Danny wasn't sure. She wasn't looking at anything, after all. Just…staring.

"Jazz?" Danny asked from the doorway, praying that she'd turn towards him and snap out of whatever state she was in. When she didn't, Danny found himself seizing up, unable to keep tears from gathering in his vision. He walked further into the room, eventually sotting across from Jazz. When her gaze remained on the rolling green hills, he sighed.

"I guess I can't expect things to be the same as they were before…" Danny spoke low and morose. He wiped tears from his eyes before the could fall, head hung towards the ground. "I'm sorry I didn't visit. When things were better. When we could actually talk."

Danny reached out and grabbed her hand, to which she startled. Her eyes focused on Danny's, their shared gaze electric. With conviction, Jazz grasped Danny's hand with both of her's, steely grip as unwavering as her stare. "Danny." It was spoken as a whisper with the intensity of a scream.

"Jazz!" Danny brought his other hand to wrap around hers, smiling wide and letting the tears fall freely now. "Jazz, it's me. It's Danny."

Jazz smiled nodding and bringing their hands up. She kissed Danny's knuckles, as they sat atop the pile of appendages. As she brought them back down to the small white wicker table, she cleared her throat, as though preparing to speak after a long time of not.

"You came. How long has it been?" Jazz asked, voice rasping and uneven.

"Years. I'm so sorry," Danny apologized. "I just…looking the way I do, I can't draw too much attention."

"I understand," Jazz smiled wider as she spoke. "But you're here! You're here and that's all that matters now. Well, that, and the plan."

Danny stiffened. "What plan?"

"To get me out of here, of course!" Jazz whisper-yelled, excitement taking over. "The Guys in White have me here. They're on to us. If you can just use your powers and—"

"Jazz—" Danny tried to interrupt.

"No, listen to me!" Jazz protested. "They've got it made out that I'm losing my mind, but I'm not! It's the meds. They pump it into the water and the air, too. I just know they do. So help me out of here, and—"

"Jazz, no."

Jazz went rigid, hands squeezing too tight into his. Instinctively, Danny phased his hands and fingers out of her grasp, causing her to gasp and pull hers back.

"I can't break you out of here. You're here because…" Danny trailed off, choking on the words he so badly needed to say.

"Don't say it," Jazz seethed, eyes hardening as she stared him down.

"Don't make me say it," Danny argued back, looking down at his lap and squeezing eyes tight. When she didn't respond for a while, he swallowed hard. "I'm the one who brought you here, along with your family. Your kids, Jordan and Jillian. Do you remember your kids?"

"It's all lies, all of it, we're still kids!" Jazz cried out. Danny looked back at her, hacking out a rancid sob as she started shaking hard. "You're fourteen and I'm sixteen. They did something to us, the Guys in White. Or Vlad — yes, Vlad must have done something, I know it!"

"Please," the word was a whimper from Danny's lips.

"I—" Jazz stood, fists clenched at either side. Before she could continue, there was a rap at the door, grabbing both Fentons' attention.

"Mom?" Jordan spoke quietly, his voice nearly inaudible. When he looked at Danny, his mouth fell open. They hadn't spoken in years, after all. "Danny. What are you doing here?"

"He's getting me out of here," Jazz sneered, stepping between her son and her brother. "Danny, c'mon! Before he shoots you."

"Jazz, listen to me—" Danny tried to talk to her, grabbing her shoulder. She looked behind at him, eyes pleading. "He's your son, Jazz. That's your son Jordan."

"No, he's one of them! Can't you see? They have you brainwashed!" Jazz yelled.

"Mom—" Jordan started, only for Jazz to turn back to him with such speed an elderly person shouldn't have had.

"Get out of here! You're not going to hurt him. My baby brother, you won't hurt him — I won't let you!" Jazz screamed.

At this point, the staff were beginning to notice a disruption. The nurse who had led Danny in returned to the doorway, pulling Jordan back with force.

"Please," Kim began, "give her some space."

Jordan did as he was told, turning and walking down the hall with his wife, a nice woman named Catherine. Kim, along with two other nurses, came into the room. One of them held a small syringe, though he tried to hide it from Jazz's view.

"Leave my brother alone! He's not an experiment, you can't do whatever you want with him!" Jazz screamed at the top of her lungs. She turned and grabbed Danny, holding him in a constructing embrace. "He's not a ghost, he's just a kid, don't you see?"

"We're not going to do anything to your…" Kim looked back and forth between Danny and Jazz. "To your brother. Just step away from him, and we'll all sit down and talk, alright?"

"There's no need to talk. I know how you think." Jazz started to chuckle humorlessly. "You're monsters. The real monsters. He's just a kid trying his best. So leave him alone!"

The nurses stalked closer to Jazz, who was distracted talking to Kim, who stood in the center without moving. She nodded to Jazz, smiling reassuringly. "You're right. He is just a kid. And he's free to go, I promise. All you need to do is let go."

Jazz looked back down at Danny, who was frozen in her arms. "Danny…are you ok? Did mom and dad hurt you again?"

"No," Danny shook his head, offering the smallest of smiles. "The didn't do a thing. And these…these ghosts, they're ok. I know them."

"Ghosts?" Jazz startled, looking back at Kim. "But they don't look like—"

Before Jazz could finish, one of the nurses who had been sneaking towards her stuck her with the syringe, emptying the contents into her hip.

"It's ok—" Danny started, feeling his sister stiffen then begin to sway next to him.

"No!" Jazz lamented. She clawed onto Danny's shoulders, attempting to steady herself. "Please, don't let them take me. Don't let them—"

"Shhh," Danny interrupted, grabbing her under the arms as she started to stagger and go limp. "I've got you. I promise, I've always got you."

"You promise?" Jazz wheezed out. She looked up tearfully at him, legs unable to hold her weight anymore.

"Forever." Danny pressed a small kiss to her forehead. Jazz, now more at ease, let herself fall into the medicine induced slumber. The nurses all surged forward and grabbed her from Danny's grasp.

"I told you," Kim spoke to Danny as she helped deposit Jazz back on her bed. When his sister was settled, Kim was right next to him. "This was one of her particularly bad days. You bear a striking resemblance to her younger brother, you know. I've seen pictures. That must have been what triggered it."

"Yeah…" Danny swallowed the lump in his throat, using the sleeve of his long black shorts to absorb his remaining tears. "Must have been."

Jordan and Catherine, Danny soon found out, were livid with his unprompted visit.

"She's been stable lately!" Jordan yelled at Danny, pacing next to his wife in the garden on the backside of the memory care center. "Not perfect, by any means, but she hasn't had an episode like this in weeks!"

"I'm sorry—" Danny started, worrying his hands in front of him.

"It's not about sorry," Catherine stopped him, her voice clipped. "It's about what happened."

"What made you decide to do this without checking with me? Or even Jill?" Jordan questioned the halfa.

"Well—" Danny began.

"You know what? I actually don't care," Jordan interjected. "Just leave her alone, ok? Let her rest. You only make things worse."

Danny staggered back, heart hurting as if he'd just been shot. Catherine grabbed Jordan's arm, stopping him from pacing. "That's not fair, Jordan," she said in a low tone.

"It's true, though, isn't it?"

Catherine shook her head, looking over to Danny with an unreadable expression. "He's just upset, don't read too much into what he's saying."

"Of course," Danny whispered.

"But still. You should stay away." Catherine's words were salt poured into the shot through Danny's heart.

"Oh." Danny's voice was wavering. He kept swallowing, expecting to get rid of whatever was keeping him from speaking. Eventually, the sensation took over, heat spreading over his face as tears collected in the creases of his nose. "Oh. Ok. I just…guess…"

"You guess what?" Jordan sneered. "What even made you come? You never come back here."

"Sam," Danny blurted. Both Jordan and a Catherine tensed; they knew Sam was in hospice not far from where they stood, as they'd gone to visit her over the years. Jazz and Sam had remained great friends, after all.

"What about her?" Jordan's voice was so soft now, suddenly very understanding.

"She's gone," Danny's voice broke. He turned around, sobs racking his body. "She died a few days ago. I just figured…if I didn't see Jazz now, I might…I might never…"

"Danny—" Catherine tried to reassure him, he could hear it in her tone.

"I didn't even get to say I loved her," Danny cried out.

"Who?" Catherine was closer now. Suddenly, her hand was on his shoulder, turning him back towards her.

"Both of them. I didn't get to say it to Sam. And now I'll never get to say it to Jazz. Not without her having another episode," Danny explained through tears.

Catherine pulled him into a hug as he cried hard. Soon enough, Jordan had joined them.

They were both aware, of course, that Danny didn't age the way people did. His appearance was precisely as it had been when he'd gotten into his accident. Emotionally, however, it was more complicated. He'd grown in his experiences, and in his philosophies. How could he not after so many years? But as far as maturity went, his was closer to that of a teenager than that of his own age. Jordan and Catherine were well aware of the fact, as were Jill and her wife Fiona. It didn't make the constant ups and downs of puberty any easier, but it did help with communication. They knew he still needed the type of love a parent would give, not that of a niece or nephew.

When Danny left his surviving family, he couldn't help but think he should've stayed away. But then again, how could he not? He'd felt the tug of death on his gut, and he knew it had to be either his sister or his Sam. So he had to go. He had to be there, if only to make sure they weren't alone. To make sure Sam wasn't alone. And she hadn't been, which put him to ease just the slightest.

"Well?" Clockwork's voice held an undercurrent of understanding beneath monotone facade. Danny had learned well how to read the time master's emotions.

"Sam. She's gone." Danny sat on the thrown in the middle of the sprawling throne room. His throne. Empty until he had resigned himself to the Ghost Zone.

"I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're smirking." Danny pointed a slender finger right at Clockwork's face. "See? A smirk. So what's so funny?"

"Oh, it's not because of something funny," the elder ghost corrected.

"Then what is it?"

"Go to the garden."

Danny looked out of the large windows at the garden. He'd grown it, at first with Sam's help, then later in her honor. Now, he supposed, it would be her his memory that he would tend to it. "Why?"

"Just go, young king."

"Fine. If you insist."

Danny floated down through the floor, slowly making his way to the center of the garden. That's where the jewel toned flowers and fruits were planted, sparkling in their ghastly nature. It had always been Sam's favorite part. The same with Jazz. The closer he got, the more he felt an unfamiliar tug at his gut. There was something calling him to the jewel of his garden, and he was skeptical to say the least, especially after the last few days.

Upon spotting her, Danny had to blink a few times. He didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. There was no way it was really her, his Sam, standing in the center of her garden. She looked just as she had in high school, none of the typical ghostly changes having had occurred.

"Sam?" he called her name out, coming to land a few yards away.

Sam turned towards him, a beautiful blossom in her hand. She smiled, walking over to Danny with long strides and wrapping her arms around him.

"Danny." She spoke his name so quick, he nearly missed it through his own sobs.

"I thought you were gone forever. I thought— thought I missed you, that I would never get to see you again." Danny sobbed hard into Sam's shoulder, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck and breathing in. She smelled the same. She felt the same. If he didn't know better, he would have mistaken her for her teenage, very much alive self.

Sam pulled back after a minute or two of reveling in their embrace. She wiped away his tears with her thumbs, then moving to play with his snowy white hair, as he stayed in his ghost form in his haunt.

"I'm so sorry I pushed you away all those years ago," Sam spoke softly and with an air of sincerity. "I didn't realize how much I needed you. Or how much you needed me. I'm sorry."

"It's ok! It's ok, because you're here now." Sam's expression soured as he spoke. "You…are here, aren't you? I'm not imagining all this, right?"

"I'm here. But not for long." Sam looked away from Danny, hands dropping down to hold his. "I'm going somewhere else. Somewhere for those of us who lived full, happy lives. Those of us who don't need to stay around."

"I don't understand," Danny breathed each word out softly, afraid he might blow her away if he used too much force. "Why don't you want to stay here? We could rule together, help people together. Don't you want that? Don't you want…me?"

"I do," Sam's gaze was back on Danny's, "more than anything I do! But I can't. I don't belong here, and you know that."

Danny nodded. He did know that. He could feel that she wasn't a ghost, not in the way he was. No, she was a shade, a shadow, a remnant of a life long lived. "You're right."

"I want you to know," her fingers brushed his cheeks, soft like a butterfly's wings, "that I love you. I always will. No matter where I am and where you are. Ok?"

"I love you, too." Danny kissed her hands, each one for good measure. "Now go. And…tell my parents I love them. And Tucker. And Jazz, when she gets there."

"Of course." Sam pulled away from Danny, walking over to the blooming flower she'd left behind before. She snapped it off of the plant, turning and walking towards him again with the purple, glowing iris in her hands. Gently, she tucked it behind his ear, kissing his cheek with the same ease. Danny closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone.

Jazz passed four months later. He felt her beginning to leave, but didn't dare leave his castle. When she passed, he trusted that Sam would relay his message. After all, there was no one he trusted more to do so.