Chapter Three: Enlightenment

"We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones." - Stephen King

Everyone gives me room. My skin is clammy even for a ghost, and my footsteps are heavy. But, there's no going back now.

I take a deep breath and walk up to my own tombstone.

Daniel James Fenton

Danny Phantom

April 3, 1990 - September 7, 2004

September 7, 2004 -

As if possessed, my shaking hand reaches out to stroke the smooth, polished stone. At first, all I feel is unnerved because, hello, I'm looking at my own grave. Then, the memories hit.

I think I had a good life overall. Jazz is an awesome sister. I couldn't ask for better friends than Sam and Tucker. Mom and Dad are… Well, they're Mom and Dad, but they've always been good to me. I wasn't popular and I got bullied sometimes, but I was happy.

Then, September 7th happened.

My skin crawls all over. I can still feel the Portal's energy cutting into my skin like a million tiny knives. I can feel my skin melting, smell the burnt hair and charred flesh, hear myself scream. Electricity on my skin, shooting inside of me, frying my organs. Sam and Tucker say it only lasted a few seconds. I say, it took hours for me to die.

I fall to my knees and grip the stone with both hands as tremors rack my body. I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to breathe. Jazz calls my name. I can't move. Reaper reminds everyone to leave me be until this passes.

Eventually, the memory of the accident is gone, replaced with my time spent as a ghost. I see myself fighting evil, protecting the innocent. They call me a hero. I prefer "protector" or "guardian," but it's nice to be admired, to be wanted. Kids look up to me. Adults respect me. Adults respect me. I have two incredible imprinted parents and a beautiful imprinted son and a wonderful girlfriend. I've met so many amazing people, ghost and human alike. It's not easy, but the life I lead is one I'm grateful for.

But…I couldn't always say that.

For a long time, people were afraid of me no matter what I did. I was public enemy number one through no fault of my own. I've been screamed at and brutally attacked and run away from. I've been hunted down by friend and foe alike. My grades dropped to a C-average that I struggled to maintain. I missed so much school, it's a miracle I didn't have to repeat any grades. The bullying increased tenfold.

I'm a loser, an easy target who people like as much as they like getting gum on their shoe. Things got better once word got out that Phantom was about as wanted as a root canal in life. Mama's lessons on Duplication helped me get my grades up and stop cutting class. But, the damage is done. I'm a stupid nobody who no one can count on unless they need a punching bag. Jazz, Sam, and Tucker have always done what they could to make me feel better, and I appreciate their attempts, but it was never enough.

Even my own parents are useless. If it weren't for Jazz, I wouldn't have lasted as long as I did. My sister's been caring for me for as long as I can remember. She's always making sacrifices for me. When I had an ear infection in first grade, Jazz refused a birthday invitation so she could take care of me. When someone was picking on me in sixth grade, Jazz confronted the bully and ended up getting pushed down a hill and scraped up pretty bad. She said it was worth it. When she revealed that she knew my secret identity, she caused more problems than she solved trying to help me. And, she kept trying even after I lost my patience and blew up at her. More recently, she got a million scholarships to some very prestigious colleges, yet she settled for the small campus right here in town. She claims that it's a good school and she found it more convenient to be able to live at home. I'm still convinced that she just wants to keep looking after me.

After all, our parents have proven how great they are at that.

Mom and Dad have always been dedicated ectobiologists. Too dedicated. They love me and my sister, but they tend to get so wrapped up in their work that everything else flies out of their heads. It was tolerable until I became the thing they hate.

It's always "Phantom is evil" this and "rip him apart" that. Any time I'm on the news, which is often, they go on about how my good deeds are an act and I'm just biding my time and blah blah blah. I try to tune it out, try not to let it bother me. I try and try and try.

A direct quote from my own human mother is, "It doesn't matter who you were as a human. What matters now is that you are a ghost." She had been speaking to someone else, but I felt as if her venom was directed at me.

I'm unsafe in my own house. And, I made things worse when I asked my human parents if they thought they were saving ghosts. Now any ghost who comes to town is in danger, because my parents will not hold back because they think that they're helping a lost soul find peace. We haven't had any casualties yet, but it's only been a few weeks.

If a ghost destabilizes because of them, it's my fault. If Mira and Mama destabilize because of them, it's my fault.

So many things are my fault. Because I'm pathetic and stupid and why do the people I love put up with me? Why won't they leave and stop getting hurt?

Why do they care so much? Don't they know that fighting is the only thing I'm good at? Can't they see how worthless I am without these powers?

I don't register the green tinge to my vision until sobs are ravaging my throat and creating a new wave of tremors. I lower my forehead on to the tombstone and watch countless tears fall on the grass.

In an instant, people are all around me. They rub my back and stroke my hair and say things like "It's okay" and "We're here" and "We love you." I want to push them away and tell them I don't deserve their comfort, but I'm stuck. I can't do anything but kneel here as it all bursts out of me. They don't care that I'm not responding; they just keep trying to console me.

I'm so, so grateful that they're here.

I hate that it took so long for people to see that not all ghosts are evil. I hate that there are so many people who still think that. I hate myself for not being better, for not being the kind of person I want to be, for causing problems and hurting people and earning the loser moniker far more than I've earned the hero one.

But…

I have a family who loves me. All but my son, who is too young for a scene like this, are here right now begging me to be okay. As for Amity Park, the people who want me around outweigh the ones who don't, though it still hurts that my human parents are in that second category. When the residents who do like me learned that I have such awful thoughts, their respect for me actually grew instead of diminish like I'd expected it to. Valerie learned to stop hating ghosts after discovering that the ghost who ruined her life is also her friend and former crush. I befriended Dash and Paulina, my two worst tormentors in the human realm, as Phantom and made them see the error of their ways. I even managed to trust them enough to reveal my secret, and their reactions spoke volumes about how much they'd grown in just one short month. I developed the Healing Touch, the rarest ghost power there is, because of my "true goodness," as Reaper put it. I've helped so many people, including my own sister, with that power.

I'm not perfect, nowhere near it. But, look at all that I have, all the good that I've done. It's impossible to look past the times I've put people in danger or caused structural damage. I can't forget the times I was beaten up for no reason or called a freak or a monster or an ugly loser or even worse things.

But, moments like this give me hope.

Eventually, my sobs taper off. I'm left trembling as my remaining tears fall and I straighten, still crouched at my grave. I sniff hard and wipe the ectoplasm off my face.

"Danny?" Eileen says gently. She is kneeling down behind my tombstone, and her fingers are curled around the sides of it.

I look at each person in turn. They all show similar degrees of concern, and Jazz and Mira even have tears in their eyes. They're all here on the ground with me because they love me and they know I love them.

A breathy chuckle escapes me. "Man, that felt good."

They respond in the form of nervous laughter, and Reaper and Tucker help me to my feet.

"You're okay, then?" Sam asks.

The smile on my lips is genuine. "Surprisingly, yes. I hadn't realized how much I needed that."

"I thought that you would feel that way," Reaper says.

I'm about to thank them, but something occurs to me. "Grim, how come you let everyone crowd around me, but you wouldn't let us do that with Mira?"

"Simple," they reply. "Mira Scott became aggressive. You did not."

Mira crosses her arms, slightly annoyed. "Makes sense, I guess."

Tucker jerks his thumb toward the mansion. "Can we head back now? I just watched two of my friends have a meltdown, and I don't wanna see it happen again."

Reaper leads us back to the mansion, and the silence doesn't last long.

"So," Sam says hesitantly, "does anyone wanna talk about…what was going through their head?"

Mira and I look at each other, and I notice that I'm sandwiched between her and Eileen, and we're pretty close together.

I had a lot of personal thoughts just now, and I'm not sure how willing I am to share. But, I did promise everyone present that I would stop bottling everything up. If my breakdown is any indicator, I haven't been doing that very well. Besides, these guys already know at least part of it.

"I'll share," Mira says as I was gearing up to volunteer. "I was mostly thinking about my life on Earth. My friends and my family and stuff." Her expression hardens. "Then, I remembered Levi and how I felt about him. I thought he was the one, you know?" She shakes her head, and I put my arm around her. She lays her head on my shoulder. "What he did to me… God, I'll never forgive him. But, I am glad I came back, even in a different form. Sure, there are problems I didn't have before, but over all, not much has changed. I have my family and all my friends. Plus, friends I wouldn't have made otherwise." She nuzzles my shoulder. "Not to mention this guy." I smile and kiss her head. Behind us, Tucker makes exaggerated gagging sounds that Sam laughs at. "What happened to me sucked, but I'm happy with how it all turned out."

Pride warms me. I think back to how small and scared Mira was when she was newly dead. Look at her now.

Eileen surprises me. "I'll share, too. I know I didn't visit my grave today, but I remember how I felt when I did so on Earth."

"Are you sure, Eileen?" Mira asks.

Eileen nods and smoothes her hair back. She looks over her shoulder at the humans. "I won't discuss the details of my death. All you need to know is that it was a very unpleasant time in history." She returns her gaze to the path. "Due to the time period and the nature of my death, I never received a proper burial. Anyone who died the way I did was just dumped in a hole in the ground." She scoffs and crosses her arms. "And, a shallow one, at that."

"You're kidding!" Sam gasps in secondhand fury.

I barely hear Tucker whisper, "My money's on smallpox."

"That's how it was back then," Eileen continues bitterly. "I'm not the only one who was treated like that, and I'm probably not the only ghost who formed because of it."

"Smallpox," Tucker whisper-sings.

"Anyway, when I managed to find where they dumped me, all I could feel was-was rage. None of it was fair to any of the victims. And, we were all treated like monsters! Before, uh, the events leading up to my death, I had a good life. Granted, I was married to a man because being gay was a mortal sin back then," Eileen adds with an extra note of irritation, "but I liked him. Things were fine until…you know."

Until she got caught doing the deed with some farmer's wife and both of them were branded as witches. Eileen showed me her death mark once. It's a horizontal line on her throat, a byproduct of the rope they hanged her with, and she hides it with Shapeshifting. My hand lightly rubs my own throat, and I fight a cringe because I've been choked plenty of times. It's not the same thing, but I get the idea.

"Still," Eileen goes on, more relaxed now that the worst part is over, "I'm happy with my afterlife. It's not easy saying goodbye to people, namely humans, but that just makes me cherish the relationships I make all the more. A little something I hope you two remember," she adds to me and Mira.

My girlfriend and I glance at each other once more. Neither of us dares look back at our mortal friends.

I clear my throat and brace myself. "I guess it's my turn."

A hand rests on my shoulder, and Jazz tells me, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

I don't want to. But…maybe I should?

I shrug her hand off before I can change my mind. "It's fine, sis." I take a deep breath. "I also thought of my human life. It wasn't terrific, but I was content. Then, the accident happened, and things sort of snowballed from there. My grades dropped. I was the prime target of bullies. I missed school in favor of fighting ghosts. I had to. Somebody had to, and I had the means and the Obsession. It was hard at first, but I didn't know how hard it could get until ghosts became public knowledge and everyone started hating me for something I couldn't control. It's a long story, but eventually people saw that I had good intentions. Before I knew it, I was the town hero. But, the damage had been done. To my ghost-half and my human-half." I lower my head and tighten my grip on Mira, who does the same. Eileen rests her hand on my back. "You can only hear words like 'freak' and 'worthless' so many times before you start to believe it. I never stopped believing it." I raise my head as I remember where I am and who I'm with. "But, despite everything, I love the life I lead, and I'm proud of what I do. No matter how down I get, I'm not going to let anything change that."

Silence as everyone digests that. Then, Jazz says shakily, "I'm proud of you too, little brother."

"We're all proud of you," Sam adds, and I hear Tucker hum in agreement.

"Indeed," Reaper says. We've finally arrived back at the front yard where we started, and Reaper turns around to address all of us. "Everyone here has something to be proud of." They lower their hand toward me. "Whether it is saving lives," then to Eileen, "nourishing young minds," then to Mira, "or accepting one's circumstances. No matter who you are, there is always a reason to-"

"Master Reaper." During Reaper's speech, one of their Gargoyle guards - stone-like humanoid beasts with large wings and jagged teeth - had flown down to us. They land and hold their fist over their heart as they speak to their boss. "You have an urgent call from Clockwork."

The mood had been slowly lightening. So much for that.

Reaper sighs. "He always interrupts my rousing speeches. I suspect that he does so on purpose," they add quietly. They turn back to us. "If you all will excuse me. Danny Phantom, perhaps you could continue your training while I am gone."

I give them a military salute. "Mx, yes, mx."

Once they and the Gargoyle are inside, Sam says, "What do you think Clockwork wants?"

"If that guy made an 'urgent call,'" I say, summoning my scythe back into my hands, "it can't mean anything good."

"Back up," Mira says with a confused frown. "Who's Clockwork?"

Eileen flips a stray hair over her shoulder. "Clockwork is an Ancient like Reaper. Only where Reaper is the Master of Death, Clockwork is the Master of Time."

"So," Mira says, "he can, like, see the future?"

"More than that," Tucker replies. "He knows everything that has happened. He knows everything that's gonna happen. He can even alter time itself!"

Mira grimaces, and Sam raises a calming hand. "Don't worry. Clockwork can be annoying, but his priority is keeping the timeline stable."

"He's a nice guy," I add. "He's just a little hard to figure out. Whatever's going on, I'm sure it's nothing my grim can't handle." More like, I hope. "In the meantime, I'm gonna try to make this happen."

I walk to the center of the yard and stand with my scythe on the walkway. I spread my feet apart and raise the blade behind me.

"You sure you don't wanna sit down for a minute?" Tucker asks. "That was a lot of emotional release just now. It looked pretty exhausting."

"If I were in human-form, I'd agree with you," I say over my shoulder. "But, all that did was remind me why I'm doing this. To have instant access to the ones I love in both realms. And, to get away from…whatever I'm getting away from." Namely, Jack and Maddie Fenton. I'm not ready to mention that yet.

"That reminds me," Jazz pipes suddenly. "I need to…see how Bub is doing with the alphabet! Excuse me. Good luck, Danny!"

Jazz sprints into the mansion, and we're all left standing there, confused. "That was weird," Sam comments.

"I'll wonder about her later," I say. "I need to focus."

"Remember," Mira calls. "Consider the destination, not the actual portal."

I close my eyes, breathe in, breathe out. This power is so important. I need to be with both of my families. I need to be able to get away from the two people who are feeling less and less like family as the days pass.

I can't end up in that lab, strapped to a table, vivisected (dissected, in their minds), blasted into ectoplasm when they grow bored with me. If that happens, who will protect the town? Who will Bub turn to when he can't find his daddy? Will Mom and Dad even notice that they're down a child?

I tighten my grip on the scythe and choke down the lump in my throat. Focus, Phantom.

The lab is glued to my mind, but a destination is a destination. My eyes are still closed as I picture the Ghost Portal and the beakers and machinery and that awful table. I suppress a shiver before swinging my scythe upward. I don't hear any explosions, so I know I didn't fire a ghost ray this time.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Mira's cheering makes my eyes snap open. She runs to my side, shouting, "I knew I saw something before!"

Some startled sounds leave me as the rest of our group joins her at my side.

"Do it again, Danny!" Eileen commands with a huge smile, a look she shares with everyone.

Another thing that gives me hope. They all back away as I ready my scythe. This time, I picture my bedroom, a safer location in case this works. I swing. No portal appears.

But, very briefly, the atmosphere ripples as if I'd dragged the blade through water.

Behind me, Sam puts her hands on my shoulders and sings, "I smell progress."

"Once more with feeling, dude!" Tucker cheers. "Try taking us to the Nasty Burger. I'm starving."

"I'll eat anywhere that doesn't serve ectoplasm muffins," Sam gripes.

I tell them to stand back, and I start swinging my scythe with a new vigor. Each time, the air ripples. That has to mean something. Everyone is shouting encouragement and suggestions for destinations, fueling my fire. I can do this. I can actually do this!

By the time Jazz and Reaper return, I've started playing around by spinning my scythe and swinging in it in various styles and directions. I'm still working on Portal Creation. I'm just making it more fun.

"Jazz! Grim!" I call, practically vibrating. "You gotta see this!"

They watch me with interest. I concentrate on my bedroom once more and swing my scythe in a wide horizontal arc. The air ripples…and the tiniest slit of green forms. It's gone as soon as it appears, but I'm almost dizzy with glee at the sight.

Jazz's face lights up as she joins my other cheerleaders in crowding around me and hugging me and spouting congratulations. I'm laughing like crazy at their enthusiasm.

"Most excellent," Reaper says. They walk up to me, and we all quiet down. "You can learn this power, Danny Phantom." The pride in their voice sends another thrill through me. "Continue practicing, and you will be opening portals in no time. Unfortunately," they add somberly, "I must...rain on your parade, as the saying goes."

"Is this about that call from Clockwork?" Eileen asks.

"I am afraid so," Reaper replies.

Why can't the universe let me enjoy myself for once?