For best results, read "Parental Misguidance" and "Cradle and All" first. You can follow along without, though.
Pay Your Respects...or Else!
Chapter One: Afterlife Lessons
"Life is too short to be serious all the time. So, if you can't laugh at yourself, call me. I'll laugh at you." - Unknown
A few weeks ago, the team - consisting of my older sister, my best friends, and a friend who doesn't consider herself part of the team - ambushed me after school. They confronted me on a certain incident that happened the day before. A lot of things had happened to me that day, but they specifically wanted to discuss why I showed up to our meeting with tears on my cheeks. I told them a ghost sprayed me in the face with something that irritated my eyes. They believed me.
Until they didn't.
It's a long story involving government agents, child abuse, and hot chicken (don't ask), but I asked my ghost hunter parents why they wanted to destroy ghosts. The events of that fateful led me to theorize that they believed they were saving the souls from spending eternity as terrifying monsters. Being half-ghost myself and knowing quite a few perfectly nice ghosts, I knew better. But, despite my best efforts, Mom and Dad retained their hatred. When I brought up my theory, I discovered that the thought had never crossed their minds. This renewed their vigor for destroying ghosts, even causing them to "bend the rules" of our agreement to ignore ghosts who weren't causing trouble.
What broke me was when I found out that they had been attacking my undead girlfriend - Danny Phantom's girlfriend, to the unaware - unprovoked even after our agreement was in place. I was furious with my parents. I was scared because Mira refused to stay away from Amity Park for her own safety. I was heartbroken because my rose-tinted lenses had been shattered.
My parents will never change. And, I made things worse.
Mira suggested that she and I were the only ghosts my parents made an exception for. Eileen - one of the two ghosts I imprinted on, thus basically becoming their pseudo-adoptive son - and the Box Ghost assured me that they hadn't had any problems since the agreement was cast. I want to believe that's true. I really, really want to believe it.
When I told the team, leaving out the part about the broken promises, I downplayed how bothered I was. I waved off their concerns, saying how if I could handle my parents before, I could do it again. It wasn't a big deal. My parents sucked at ghost hunting anyway. It was inconvenient at worst. I was hurt and frustrated, of course, but I would be fine.
On the inside, I was still crying.
I think my friends knew that. It would explain why they - minus Valerie, who still doesn't want to enter the Ghost Zone - insisted on coming with me to my first lesson. I spent hours practicing. My friends were bored out of their minds, so I told them to hang out in the mansion until I was finished.
Results of my first lesson: failure, nada, zilch, not even the faintest ripple in the atmosphere.
Reaper - the other ghost I imprinted on and an Ancient at that - offered to teach me one of the rarest ghost powers out there: Portal Creation. Like the name suggests, this would allow me to access the Ghost Zone whenever I please and from wherever I am. More importantly, I could get away from my parents when it all became too much to bear.
I didn't tell Jazz or my human friends that part. They think I'm only learning this so I don't have to sneak past my parents to get to their manmade Portal in the lab. Although, I'm sure they suspect the truth.
Reaper, Eileen, and Mira know what's really going on. Eileen and Mira know because they spend most of their time on Earth, the former even being a teacher at my school, so they need to watch their backs around my parents. Reaper knows because I had an emotional breakdown over the whole thing.
The team is here for round two, as well. Like last time, I told them to head inside so they wouldn't be endlessly bored. Eileen turned up to watch not long ago (I don't think it's a coincidence), and I'm telling myself that stage fright is the reason I stink at this.
The training room is heavily occupied, so due to the risk of accidentally slicing someone open (more on that in a moment), we are outside for my lesson. Eileen is standing - well, hovering - a very safe distance away from me along the black iron rod fence that surrounds the floating gothic mansion that Reaper calls home. Reaper and Mira, who can also use Portal Creation are at my side.
Reaper stands at a whopping eight feet and wears a simple brown cloak that covers all but their pale blue-gray hands, which have long fingers and appear to be a series of bones held in place by a thin layer of skin. Even their face is encased in pitch-black shadow under their hood. They aren't so scary in personality, but they certainly look the part of the Master of Death.
Mira used to be a human, so she looks like one in all but her coloring. She is a head shorter than me and has glowing green skin and eyes with red irises. Her long, messy dark green hair is usually hanging around her shoulders and encased with only a striped beanie. Today, that beanie is absent, and her hair is in a high ponytail. She has also foregone her denim jacket and sports the white tank top that sits underneath it. Her skirt has been replaced with yoga shorts that I look at every time she turns around because curvy girlfriend in yoga shorts.
Aesthetically, those two are a very unusual pair.
"Focus on your destination," Mira says. "Don't think about the portal itself. Think about where you want the portal to take you."
Reaper helps me reposition my scythe (their Christmas gift to me and reason for the risk of slicing someone open). "Remember to channel your energy as if firing a ghost ray. And, try not to actually fire a ghost ray this time."
"Hey, that only happened twice," I argue.
My mentors stand back. I stare straight ahead and focus on Casper High once again. I figure that if I do manage to make a portal, my school is a safe place to do it. It's Sunday, so no one should be there. I close my eyes and picture Eileen's classroom, which doubles (triples?) as my homeroom and history classroom. That's how Mama and I met. She had been posing as a new and perfectly human teacher. I would have bought it if my Ghost Sense didn't go off every time she was near. That little annoyance has passed now that I know what she is and expect to see her every weekday.
I let the room's image fill my mind. The projector in the back that only works sometimes. That poster for The Grudge, because Eileen kind of looks like the ghost girl in that movie and is disturbingly proud of that fact. There's ghost memorabilia of her own as well, now that the word is out that "Ms. Francesca Mae" isn't a human. Pictures of her past students and her past personas - you know, from when cameras existed; my ghost mom is old - decorate the walls. There's also a picture of my ghost-form that sits on her desk. One day, she randomly asked if she could take my picture. The smile I gave her was an "I don't know what you're doing but whatever you say" kind of look. When I saw that picture as I was handing in a report, I didn't know if I was going to laugh, cry, or hide under her desk. I didn't do any of those. I waited until class let out and no one was looking before sneaking Mama a peck on the cheek.
I tighten my grip on the scythe's handle, keeping the classroom in my mind. I hold the scythe back and swipe it in an upward arc.
All I accomplish is shooting a bright green beam of light. Again. But unlike the last two accidental ghost rays, which flew harmlessly into the distance before evaporating, this one flies low. It creates a line of burned up grass and comes just shy of hitting one of the many tombstones that decorate the yard.
Even with my supernatural stamina, my arms are getting tired. I've had two lessons and a bunch of hours of training, and all I've accomplished is property damage.
"I think you almost had it that time," Mira says.
She's trying to be encouraging, but it just sets me over the edge. I growl and swing my scythe once more, this time staking the blade into the ground. I leave it there and put my hands over my face. A hopeless groan escapes me. "I need a break."
Reaper's large, thin hand rests on my shoulder. "I hope your request for a break is not a sign that you are giving up."
"What if I can't do it?" I lament, my throat tightening because I'm just that pathetic.
On my other side, Mira chirps, "Give it another go! I really think-"
"Mira." I raise my head and glare at her. "Please."
She flinches at my tone, and I feel infinitely worse.
I put so much faith in learning this power. Now the possibility of not being able to use it has been thrown in my face. A ghost can't possess every power in existence. That fact has never seemed so true.
It isn't just about my human parents. A few weeks ago, I discovered that someone had imprinted on me. Bub, formerly Anthony Pierce, is a darling baby boy who only lived for three months before falling victim to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I picture my imprint, my son in all but DNA. That soft pale gray skin, his glowing red eyes with vertical pupils, his hair which just so happens to be white like my ghost-form's, his tiny teeth and fangs which are always bared in a smile. He loves arts and crafts and Goldfish crackers and his plush mouse named Mouse. Obtaining this power would give me instant access to my little man. He can't come home with me because my parents would destabilize him on sight. I can't stay in the Ghost Zone because the residents of Amity Park need their guardian.
I need this power. I need to be in my son's life. His human parents work for the government, and they tried to destroy him when they found out he'd become something other than human. My heart still breaks at the memory. I'm the only real parent he has.
I can't use my parents' Portal all the time. I have to learn Portal Creation. I need to be able to see my ghost family whenever I want. I need to be able to get away from my human parents whenever I have to.
"Let the poor kid rest," Eileen says, floating over to us. My mama is roughly six inches taller than me, though it's hard to tell since she has no legs and is always floating. She has off-white skin, wholly red eyes, and black hair that hangs past her butt. She's incredibly thin, to the point that the word "emaciated" wouldn't be an exaggeration. As usual, she is clad in a simple gray dress that's tattered at the bottom. "From what I hear, he's been at this for hours. A break would do him some good."
"Very well," Reaper says. To me, "Rest, Danny Phantom. Return here in an hour's time." They pat me on the head. "Do not disappoint me by giving up so easily, child. I am confident in you."
I wish I was confident in me. "I'll try not to take out any graves next time," I say bitterly as I will my scythe back to wherever it goes when not in use. My eyes are locked on the scorched earth in front of the tombstones. A thought hits, one that I had before but didn't have the chance to ask. "What's with all the graves, anyway? I get that you're the Master of Death, but…"
"I am surprised that it took you this long to ask," Reaper says. I just shrug. "As you are aware, some ghosts were initially formed here in the Infinite Realms, while others, such as the three of you, began their existence in the human realm." Reaper holds a hand out toward the tombstones. "Each marked grave is a tribute to a being from the human realm who passed away and reformed as a spirit."
Us spirits stare at the few graves we can see with a new appreciation. We've all seen the massive graveyard behind and around the sides of the mansion. We just never knew the significance of it.
"There's really a grave for every spirit?" Eileen asks.
"Every single one," Reaper confirms. "It is my way of paying respects."
"Cool," Mira breathes. "Kind of creepy, but cool."
I look at the women, both fully dead ghosts. I have never been so conscious of the heart that beats so very slowly in my chest. "Do…I have a grave?"
"You do," Reaper says. "Though as a halfa, yours will remain unfinished until your human body breathes its final breath, leaving you as a full ghost."
The more they speak, the more curious I get. "Could I see it?"
Mira bounces on her feet. "I wanna see mine, too!"
Eileen says nothing. She looks oddly sad as she continues staring at the tombstones.
"I would be happy to show you," Reaper says. "But, I should warn you that your reactions may not be pleasant."
At my and Mira's confusion, Eileen comes back to life. So to speak. "When a spirit comes across their place of rest, there's no telling what they'll do. Some people look back on their lives fondly. Some have complete and total breakdowns. Others get," she shivers and looks away and I think I know which category she's in, "violent. Really violent."
"Eileen Merryweather is correct," Reaper says. "And, there is no way of anticipating how one will react."
"But, my and Eileen's resting places are back on Earth," Mira points out. "And, Danny's is…nonexistent."
"It matters not," Reaper says. "You would have the same reaction here as you would on Earth. With or without a body," they add to me. They place a finger to their chin. "You know, Danny Phantom, it might be a good idea for you to visit your grave."
I grimace. "Considering what I know now, I'd rather not."
Mira raises her hand. "I second that notion."
Reaper ignores her. "It is true that you may experience severe negative emotions-"
"Meaning that I might bawl my eyes out and/or destroy everything?'" I interrupt.
"Yes," Reaper says simply. "But, that is why I suggest this. Many find it quite cathartic to visit their own graves. Enlightening, even. With the graves of those they know as well."
"So," Mira says, "we might freak out at the graves of people we know, too?"
"Not as much as with your own," Reaper replies. "But, you will still feel things quite strongly. Danny Phantom, I truly believe that this could help you in your training. By freeing yourself of your frustrations, you may find that your lessons come a bit easier."
Eileen nods with an encouraging smile. "That makes sense. Remember when you were having trouble with Duplication? A little catharsis worked for you then."
By "a little catharsis," she means "you told me you were kinda-sorta-maybe afraid of your parents and cried a lot." I'm grateful that she censored it. Though, I admit that I did feel a little better afterwards.
"Alright," I say. "I'll try it. You guys coming with me?" I ask Mira and Eileen.
Eileen raises her hands in surrender. "I'll join you, but if we reach my grave, warn me so I can stay away. When I found the spot where they dumped my body, I flew way off my rocker, and it wasn't pretty."
Noted. I turn to Mira, who is fiddling with the bottom of her tank top. She looks up at me and shrugs. "Why not? I am curious about my own grave."
"I will accompany you as well," Reaper says. "In case there are any…issues." Translation: don't break my house or each other.
I start toward the tombstones when another thought hits. "Do you mind if I get my friends? They'll never forgive me if I don't include them."
Reaper gestures to the front door, and I head on in. The inside of the building is as gothic mansion-y as the outside, with dark walls and flooring and chandeliers lining the ceiling and various creepy paintings on the walls. But, because my grim allows ghosts to use their lair as a safe place to stay when they need it, the mansion is always bustling with ghosts, making it feel more warm and inviting than cold and unsettling.
I ask around and some ghosts point me in the right directions. I find Sam first. She's in the kitchen, sampling one of the muffins that a blob-like demon baked. (I've seen that guy in Amity Park before. He seemed nice.) From the look on my gothic best friend/ex-girlfriend's face as she swallows her mouthful, she's not a fan.
"The secret ingredient is my own ectoplasm," the blob says proudly.
Sam is noticeably greener at this information, and it's not because of the ectoplasm or her strictly vegan diet. Or, maybe it is. She sees my sympathetic wince and rushes toward me with the fakest toothy grin I've ever seen. "Danny!" She roughly grabs my arm and yanks me out of the room. "Come over here and tell me all about anything else." Once we're in the hallway and out of earshot, she moans. "Do me a favor and hit that guy. Really hard. I'd do it myself," she puts her hands over her stomach, "but I'm too busy being nauseous."
"I don't blame you," I say. Luckily, all my friends have had ghost food before, so we know she won't grow a third eye or anything. "But, I actually wanted to update you guys on my training."
Sam calms at the change in subject. "Any progress?"
"Only if property damage counts. But, Reaper did have a suggestion."
I tell her what I'm going to do and warn her that Mira, Eileen, and I might not be safe to be around. I add that Reaper will be there to monitor the situation if she decides to join us.
Naturally, she does. "As if you could keep me away," she scoffs. A smug grin pulls at her lips, and she puts one hand on her hip. "Do you really think you could keep a goth out of a graveyard that Death themself will be visiting?"
I laugh and tell her to head to the front yard while I find the others.
Tucker is in the library, which surprises me until I see what he's doing. He's sitting at a table and has a stack of books in front of him. One is open up to a page about ghost technology. Tucker has his PDA out and is taking notes on it.
"If you were this focused in school," I tease, "you would be a straight-A student."
Tucker makes some kind of noise and fumbles with his PDA. He looks up at me with wide bespectacled green eyes and dramatically throws his hand over his heart. "It's a good thing we're at the lair of the Master of Death, because you almost killed me!"
"Sorry," I say while trying not to smile. I pull up the chair across from him and sit down. "Reaper had an idea to help me with my training…"
I tell him the same thing I told Sam, and he grins and closes the book. "Count me in. Let me put these books away, and I'll meet you outside."
"Awesome," I say. "You seen Jazz anywhere?"
He points upward. "She's on the second floor, spoiling her nephew. Where else would she be?"
Saw that coming. I fly up to the second floor of the library. My big sister is sitting cross-legged on the floor in the corner, and my imprinted son is sitting in her lap. There is a snack-size bag of gummy bears on the floor, and Bub has a yellow one in his little hand.
"Q, R, S," Bub sings slowly as Jazz listens patiently. "V, T, U. W, Y, X and Z."
"Oh, Bub!" Jazz cheers, bringing her fists to her chest. "You were so close!"
The scene is so adorable that I have to be a part of it. "It's 'T, U, V. W, X, Y, and Z.'"
Bub lets out a great big, "Oooohhhh." Holds his treat out to me. "You want a gummy bear, Daddy?"
"Sure. Thanks, little man." I kneel down and accept my hunk of pure sugar. "I need to talk to Aunt Jazz, though. I need her help with some grown-up stuff," I add before popping the gummy bear in my mouth. Jazz brought the good kind that don't taste like pure sugar. I can actually taste the lemon flavor.
Bub grimaces. "Sounds boring." He grabs the bag and floats into the air. His legs morph into a translucent white tail. When Jazz and I stand, he shakes the bag and says, "I'm gonna go eat these."
I'd object to that if he wasn't a ghost.
He flies away, and Jazz waves at his retreating form with a huge grin. "Bye, Bub! Once you get the alphabet down, I'll start teaching you how to read!"
I give her a look. "Um, shouldn't I be the one to teach my son to read?"
"If you're nice to me," Jazz taunts, "I will consider letting you help."
She'd probably make a better teacher than me, but hell will freeze over before I tell her that. I hold up my hands. "Well then, I guess you don't want to do ghost stuff with me."
"Okay, you can help!" she says quickly. "What's the ghost stuff?"
For the third time, I explain the new tactic. My sister has the tips of her fingers pressed together, and her expression is too intense for my liking.
"Uh," I drawl when she only stares at me, "are you in or are you out?"
"I'm in," she confirms. "This sounds like it really could be good for you, Danny."
She said that in her "aspiring psychologist" voice, but I choose to let it go. "Great. But, FYI, it might be a little disrespectful to show up at a graveyard with a gummy bear stuck to your shirt."
Jazz sticks the offending treat into her mouth. Once she no longer reeks of "overeager aunt," we join everyone outside.
Four ghosts and three humans stand at the edge of the vast graveyard, gazing at the many, many tombstones in a cautious awe. Out of all of them, I've decided to seek out four. One is Mira's, one is Mama's, one is Bub's, and one is mine.
Hey, if I'm gonna do it, I may as well do it up, right?
"A reminder," Reaper says to us ghosts before we begin our search. "I cannot predict what types of reactions you will have. But, fret not. I will ensure that no problems arise."
Tucker looks up at them. "Does that mean you'll keep us safe if they go ballistic?"
"Correct," Reaper says.
So it begins.