ell_if_i_know on Archive of Our Own pointed out that I posted this story during Pride Month. That was an accident, and this chapter makes it even more hilarious.

Danny

"If people are making fun of you, then you're probably doing something right." - Amy Lee

Over the next week, my parents throw questions at me as they think of them.

"Should we add ectoplasm to your food?" No.

"Your core isn't hurting your heart, is it? Or vice-versa?" No. They're sort of one entity now.

"We never caused you any permanent damage, did we?" Because I wanted to be honest, I showed Mom and Dad the long scar on my side. The sight had put them in a funk for days, especially Dad since I told them exactly where it came from.

It's been an interesting week. Twice I tried to make an excuse to get away before I remembered that I could go ghost in front of my parents now. There's also the aforementioned questions. They know better than to ask about my death, but at some points I catch them looking at me in this grief-stricken way...

Today they ask me to come down to the lab. I do so and find a bunch of notebooks and papers stacked precariously on the desk. I walk over and ask what's going on.

Dad puts his arm around Mom and answers. "Your mother and I decided to go over our research. We thought, since you're more of an expert than we are, you could do what you did with our Phantom research and see what we got right."

"But, since it's Saturday," Mom adds, "we understand if you don't want to do something that feels like homework."

"Are you joking?" I throw my arms around both of them and feel them return the hug. "Of course I wanna help!"

"That's right," Mom chuckles. "Your Obsession."

I grin wider and pull away. "It's not that. It's… It's been amazing, not having to lie to you anymore. I should have done this sooner, but-but I was so afraid that you wouldn't accept me."

Dad gets down on one knee and rests his hand on my shoulder. "We'll always accept you, son."

"No matter what," Mom agrees with the same sad, loving smile.

The warmth in my chest dulls when I catch the closed Portal out of the corner of my eye.

I want to tell them what happened to me. They'll probably find out some day, so why not get it out of the way now?

Because it's not that easy.

It was different when I told Dash and Paulina and Valerie and the Scott Family and Eileen. (Reaper already knew because death-related stuff is their bread and butter.) None of them have anything to do with my parents' inventions. Even telling Jazz wasn't so bad, though it still took me a while to work up the courage.

How do you tell someone that their life's work is the reason their son is dead? So, uh, funny story. I was screwing around with my friends, and the Portal turned on with me inside. You really should have kept that "on" button on the outside of the Portal.

Mom and Dad already feel horrible for the way they've treated my ghost-half. I can't begin to imagine how devastated they would be if they knew my cause of death. Yes, it was my own fault for being careless, but Mom and Dad wouldn't see it that way.

The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it. I can't do that to them.

But, I will tell them one day.

…Maybe.

My parents see where I'm looking, and Dad says to me. "Danny? Do you, uh, need to get to the Ghost Zone?"

"No, Dad. I just…got a little wistful there."

I have no idea how long I spend sitting at that desk and working on all those papers. Long enough to be impressed with how much my parents got right. As far as the science aspect goes, that is. They are way off when it comes to emotions or cores or Obsessions or…anything that's not biological or power-related.

When I come across some notes regarding a dissection, I'm struck by a wave of nausea and decide that now would be a good time to take a break. I don't think Mom and Dad realized that they gave me everything to look over. Those pages were composed entirely of Mom's handwriting, so Dad must have been doing the…other part. I can't help wondering if there are dissection notes in that stack that are the other way around: Dad's handwriting and Mom's dirty work. Or, notes that are a combination of both. I'm terrified that I'll find out once I get back to work.

Guilt hits me as hard as the nausea. I do my best to save any ghosts my parents capture, but I know there have been plenty that slipped past my radar. The thought hurts those fused organs - Does a core count as an organ? - in my chest. I sit here and stare at the pile of research I haven't reviewed yet. How many pages are about dissections? How many go into way too much detail about a ghost's anatomy?

How many innocent souls have I failed?

It's not my fault. Logically, I know that.

But, I feel like it is. I'm an angel, a guardian, a protector of those who can't protect themselves. Yet, I couldn't protect the ghosts in my own house.

I need to shut these thoughts down. During one of my occasional therapy sessions with Jazz, she mentioned the different types of cognitive distortions, also known as thinking errors. What would this be an example of? Mental filtering, maybe. That's when you're so focused on the bad that you can't see the good. Or, overgeneralization, which is when one bad experience makes you think that everything related to that experience will end badly. Could be both; Jazz says thinking errors can overlap.

Okay, let's rationalize this. There is data on one dissection, yes. While there could very well be more, there is a solid chance that the majority of my parents' notes are about anything else. The thought brings a little comfort, but I still feel like a break is in order.

I should bring this up with Mom and Dad while I'm at it.

I head upstairs and find Mom and Dad standing at the front door and whispering to each other. They stop as soon as I enter the room.

It's nothing to worry about. There is no reason for my stomach to knot up and my heart to pound like this.

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

Dad swings his fist in front of him with a massive grin. "Couldn't be better!"

Mom lightly knocks her elbow into his side and says to me, "How's the research coming along?"

What are they planning? Does it involve me? It must, or they wouldn't have stopped talking when they did.

What if they're not as accepting as I thought? Maybe they're plotting a way to get rid of the ghost living under their roof. I try to shake the thought away, but it's like peeling an ugly sticker off a metal surface.

"Um," I stammer, "I-I wanted to…mention something about…" I swallow hard as the image of myself strapped to a table and being cut open sears into my traitorous mind. "Y-you kind of…had some…d-dissection notes in there…"

Mom gasps and throws her hands over her mouth. Dad runs his hand over his face and mutters, "Oh, god damn it."

"We're so sorry, Danny," Mom pleads. "We didn't- God, we weren't thinking!"

Dad's Adam's apple bobs. "Y-you didn't read anything too…graphic, did you?"

My skin crawls. I rub my arms. "I'm a little queasy if that tells you anything."

"Forget it, then," Dad says. "Forget the research. Your Mom and I will handle it ourselves."

"I-I still wanna help!" I say.

"No, your father's right," Mom argues. "We should have anticipated this. We'll go over all of our notes and get rid of anything that we aren't one hundred percent certain is fact. Come on, Jack."

They start to head for the lab, but I stop them because I won't feel better until I hear it from them. "Mom? Dad?" I feel like a frightened child who crawled into his parents' bed because he had a nightmare. Except that I was awake when the scary thing happened. "Are…are you gonna keep…hurting them like that?"

Dad shouts, "No!" at the same time as Mom's, "Never again!"

I thought they'd already gone through the five stages of grief when they realized that the ghosts they hurt could think and feel emotions and have morals. I might have kickstarted a new process.

The sharp, icy breath that is my Ghost Sense escapes me. Moments later, the doorbell rings and my parents practically melt with relief. Since I am now the closest, I open the door-

-and am assaulted by confetti.

Jazz is the culprit, but she's not the only one who shouts, "Surprise!" and charges into the living room. Before I know it, several people, two of whom are not alive, are standing in the living room with small gift bags and wrapped boxes in their hands.

Besides my older sister, the humans who enter the room are Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Dash, and Paulina. The two ghosts are my girlfriend, Mira - has glowing green skin, long dark green hair, gorgeous curves, and is two years my senior - and my imprinted mother, Eileen - has off-white skin, black hair that reaches her butt, a gray dress long enough to cover the legs she doesn't have, and is roughly three hundred years my senior.

"What's happening?" I finally ask as I close the door.

"It's your coming out party!" Paulina chirps, holding up her colorfully wrapped box for emphasis.

Tucker proudly jabs his thumb to his chest. "It was my idea."

Jazz moves her rainbow-colored bag to one hand and wraps her free arm around me in a side-hug. "We're celebrating how well your big reveal went!"

When I remember how to speak, I notice Mom and Dad standing off to the side and grinning ear to ear. "Is this what you were whispering about?"

"Jazz called us twenty minutes ago," Mom answers, "and told us what they were doing."

Dad laughs. "If we'd have known, we would have had our own gifts for you."

Jazz grins in apology.

I look from person to person. Love fills the room and threatens to swallow me whole. "You guys…" I say quietly, shakily. "You-you didn't have to…"

Valerie nudges my arm with a playful smirk. "Ah, shut up and roll with it."

Mira holds up her pink, unwrapped box. "I made rainbow cake!"

"And, I am looking forward to learning what rainbow cake is," Eileen says, pointing to Mira's box.

"I don't care what it is," Dash says. He pats his stomach. "I just want it in here!"

That's when I realize there is a theme among the gift bags and wrapping paper. "Why is everything rainbow-colored?"

Sam tucks her box under her arm. "It goes without saying that they don't make 'coming out' stuff for half-ghosts," she shrugs, "so you're gay now."

"That part was my idea!" Mira brags with a little bounce.

I smirk at that. "So, if I'm gay, does that make you my boyfriend?"

Mira frowns instantly.

Valerie isn't the only one who's amused, but she does snort the loudest and say, "You walked into that, Mira!"

"Oh, ha ha ha ha," Mira drawls. "Let's just cut this thing up and dig in."

Everyone drops their presents around the door, and we all shuffle into the kitchen, my parents included. The kitchen wasn't designed to fit eleven people, but no one complains about the cramped space. Mom hurries for the cabinet and grabs paper plates. Sam dives for the silverware. Jazz finds a plate that's barely big enough to fit the cake. Mira pulls out her creation, and given how colorful everything else is, I'm surprised to see plain white frosting.

When Sam hands her a knife, Mira gasps and says guiltily, "Oh my god, Sam! I totally forgot that you're vegan!"

"Oh," Sam says. She masks her disappointment with a smile. "That's okay. This is for Danny anyway."

That doesn't appease Mira, but she takes the knife and starts cutting the cake. Once the first slice is plated, I discover why such boring decor was used. Anything else would take away the beauty of the inside, which is seven thin layers of cake, each one a vibrant color of the rainbow. The resulting ooh's and aah's tell me everyone is as impressed as I am. Mira perks up at our reactions.

"So, that's what a rainbow cake is," Eileen comments.

Paulina rubs her hands together. "This is going to be so worth the extra calories!"

"You need the calories," Sam taunts. "You look like a twig."

Paulina sends her a haughty glare. "At least I don't dress like I work at a morgue."

"Joke's on you. I'm taking that as a compliment."

Eileen breaks this up before it gets messy. "How about you two save the cat fight for another day?"

Yeah, these guys might be my friends, but they're not all each other's friends. Which makes them throwing me a party together even more incredible.

Mira cuts the cake and passes out slices. The slices are small, but there's enough for each of us with two pieces left over. I have a feeling that Dad and Tucker will be snatching those up. We all dig in-

…What flavor is this? It tastes like vanilla, but there's an odd bitterness that I can't identify. The cake's texture isn't any better, as it is very dry. The looks on everyone else's faces - minus Sam, of course - tell me that I'm not the only one who thinks something's off.

"I think I added too much food coloring," Mira confesses.

"That's what I'm tasting?" Tucker asks. "I thought food coloring was supposed to be flavorless."

"Not if you use too much." Mira plops her plate on the table. "Man. I can't believe I forgot to taste the batter! That's, like, the number one culinary rule! Always. Taste. Your food! I was just so excited! And, why is it so dense and dry?"

"It still looks really cool," I say lamely.

Mira grunts and tosses her paper plate and cake slice into the trash can behind her. I cringe at the sight. My girlfriend's Obsession is food, so getting the cake this wrong has to sting.

Dash watches her and says unhelpfully, "Does that mean I throw mine away without anyone getting mad at me?" This earns him a smack in the arm from Jazz.

"Well," Mom says with a placating smile, "it was a nice gesture at any rate."

Dad sets his plate down. "Ah, who needs cake? Hey, Danny Boy, why don't we head into the living room so you can open those gifts?"

We're all grateful for the change in subject. Except for Mira. While everyone else merrily trots back to the living room, she mutters, "The stupid cake was my gift."

I put my arm around her and guide her after the others, "You'll make a better stupid cake next time."

That doesn't quite get a smile out of her, but her mood improves once the gift giving starts.

I sit down on the armchair. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz managed to commandeer the couch, but the others don't seem to mind standing. Or floating, in Eileen's case.

Multi-colored boxes and bags are now clustered around my feet, and I grab the nearest bag, which is from Eileen. I pull the tissue paper out of it and laugh at the twelve-pack of rainbow-bodied number two pencils.

It turns out that my "gifts" are all random rainbow-colored things that these guys probably found at the dollar store. Dash's is a t-shirt that's way too big. Jazz's is a teddy bear. Tucker's is a throw pillow with "PRIDE" written across it. Paulina got me a foldable hair brush/hand mirror combo…thing. We all laugh when we see that Sam got me the same bear that Jazz did; they swear up and down that it was an accident.

"What is wrong with you people?" I ask through my laughter once I open my final gift: a miniature pride flag from Valerie.

Tucker picks up his gay pillow and throws it at me. I'm too busy laughing to catch it, and it bounces off my arm. "You love us! Admit it!"

"Tucker Foley," I say before waving the tiny flag around, "there are a lot of jokes I could make right now, but I don't want to offend my mama."

Mom giggles. "Oh, sweetie, I won't be offended."

"He means me," Eileen says. "I'm 'Mama.' You're 'Mom.'"

"Ah." Mom says with now-forced cheer. "I see."

Eileen's words hadn't contained any malice, but they struck a cord. With Dad too, given that he laces his fat fingers with Mom's slender ones, and his own joy seems a little less genuine.

Luckily, no one else notices the sudden tension. They're all too busy having a playful argument over whose gift is the dumbest. The consensus is that Paulina's is, which offends her greatly.

"My gift is the most useful one," she argues. "What if he gets something in his teeth and there's no mirror nearby? Or, his hair gets messed up and needs an emergency brushing?"

Valerie coughs out a laugh. "What the hell is an 'emergency brushing?'"

"Guys don't do that, Paulina," Dash says with a grin.

"Most girls don't even do that," Jazz adds.

Sam points to me. "Look at Danny's hair. Does it look like he ever brushes it?"

I scoff and sweep my fingers through my bangs. "You're just jealous," I tease.

The tension fades from there, but my human parents' strained smiles linger in the back of my mind.

The party guests trickle out over the next two hours. I'm sad to see the fun end. This is the first time all of my human friends spent so much time together and, apart from that brief spat in the kitchen, managed to get along. I take it as another sign that things are looking up.

Soon Mira is the only one left. Mom and Dad brought her into the kitchen to talk, and despite myself, I'm a little on edge. The first time Mom and Dad saw Mira was the morning after she died and…it didn't go well. Mira confessed that they attacked her a few times since, though she was never seriously injured. Things are different now. I want to believe that it's okay to leave her with my human parents, but I'm still leery.

Jazz is in her room, studying, so no one is here to stop me.

I turn invisible and walk into the kitchen. The cake and box are gone, presumably in the trash can. Mira is fidgeting with her denim jacket, and I don't think it's because no one finished their cake.

"I…I want to say it's okay," Mira says without looking at my parents. "But, I mean… I don't know…"

"You don't have to forgive us," Dad says with a solemn understanding.

Mom speaks in the same way. "We just want you to know that you're welcome here. And, we'd like to get to know you."

That draws a tiny smile from Mira. "I'd like that too."

My heart soars. They're trying to make amends with Mira, with my undead girlfriend. This really is a turning point.

"One more thing," Dad says. "By any chance, are you the Mira Danny told us about? The one he went to see in the hospital?"

Mira's face scrunches up in confusion. Then realization lights up her eyes. "Oh, that. Let's just say that that was an excuse so Danny could help me with something. Technically, I am that Mira, but most of that story is false."

"We thought so," Mom says. "We first saw you before Danny told us his friend died, so…"

On that note, my parents start to walk her out. All three of them jump when I appear beside them.

"Did you hear all of that?" Dad asks.

I fight a mischievous grin. "I will neither confirm nor deny."

If my parents weren't watching, Mira and I would kiss each other goodbye before she leaves. We hug instead, then she opens a portal - she can do that - and steps into the Ghost Zone, leaving me alone with my parents.

"You sure have a lot of support," Mom says.

I've been grinning so much that my face is starting to hurt from it. "Yeah, I do."

"That's good," Mom says. "Doing what you do, you…probably need it."

"Do your…ghost parents support you too?" Dad asks.

"Oh, yeah," I reply. "Mama and Grim are awesome." Then I see the barely concealed sadness on my human parents' faces. "But, you guys are awesome too!"

Mom holds up her hand. "You don't have to lie to us, hun. We know we haven't been there for you-"

"Stop!" I say before my heart can break for the umpteenth time. "You…" I toss my hands at my sides. "Okay, fine. You haven't been there for me, but that's because I wouldn't let you! I…I won't lie. I was terrified. But, if I could go back in time and tell myself that it's okay, I would."

"We'd go back in time too, if we could," Dad says shakily. Mom leans against him and nods.

I wrap my arms around my parents, who return the hug twice as tightly. "Imprinting doesn't mean replacing your parents," I assure. "It means adding to the family. I love Mama and Grim, but I love Mom and Dad too."

Mom kisses my cheek. "We love you too, sweetie."

"Whether you're ghost, boy," Dad adds, "or something in between."

The doorbell rings, and I swipe at my face before the tears in my eyes can trickle down my cheeks. I walk over to answer the door, thinking that one of my friends forgot something.

When I open the door, I am tempted to slam it in our visitor's face because I do not want my good mood to be ruined.

"Vladdy!" Dad greets, his loud footsteps stomping over to us. "What brings you here?"

Our illustrious mayor stands in the doorway with his hands behind his back, all fake smiles and annoying charm. "Merely checking in with the youngest of the Fentons." He pats my head, and I resist the urge to bat his hand away. "It's been a while since I've heard from you, little badger. I trust that everything is well?"

He still has doubts about my parents accepting me. This will be fun!

I put all the joy and smugness into my voice that will fit and look Vlad dead in the eyes. "Everything is great now that Mom and Dad know I'm Danny Phantom and whole-heartedly accept this about me."

It gives me endless pleasure to see his face fall into a slack-jawed shock.

Dad sputters, and Mom joins the party. "Vlad," she says, "did you know about that?"

My parents' own shock reminds me that they're still here and I need to be careful about how much hostility I show.

Vlad blinks back to life. "Um, may I come in?"

I stand aside and watch him pull the door shut while his bitter little brain catches up to what's happening. "Go on, Uncle Vlad," I say with a flourish toward my parents. "Tell them how you discovered my ghostly little secret."

Vlad's glare in my direction is halted by Dad pleading, "Yeah, Vlad, how?"

"It-it was the night before our college reunion," Vlad begins. "I…heard strange noises and went to investigate. I found Phantom fighting that horrid Wisconsin Ghost. Though, I use the word 'fighting' loosely, as your son was getting his rear end handed to him."

"Hey!" I snap even though it's true.

"Truly a pathetic defeat." Vlad yelps when I slam my elbow into his side. He rubs the bruised area. "Anyway," he says with no shortage of irritation, "Phantom was knocked out, and you can imagine my surprise when he transformed into your son. I, uh, I managed to distract the Wisconsin Ghost long enough to get Daniel out of there, and the rest is history."

"The reunion was over two years ago!" Mom says. "You've known all this time?"

I force myself to stay still when Vlad puts his arm around me and pulls me close. "And, I've been helping him in my own way."

Helping me in your own maniacal, self-centered, generally unhelpful way.

"As much as I'd love to get into detail," Vlad goes on, "I really must speak with your boy. In private, if I may?"

"Of course, V-man!" Dad pipes. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "Lab door is open. You'll have plenty of privacy down there."

Vlad ushers me down to the lab before I can object. Dad's cheerful, "Boy, am I glad Danny had someone like Vlad on his side," grates at my conscience. The problem with telling Mom and Dad the truth about their old college buddy is that Vlad is guaranteed to notice if they start acting differently around him. I need to find some excuse to tell them, something that I can easily justify so that Vlad won't be tempted to out me to the world.

Vlad and I stop at the bottom of the staircase. Any trace of his usual smugness is gone. "Be honest, Daniel. Are they truly okay with you being half-ghost?"

If I didn't know better, I'd say that Vlad's concern is genuine. I cross my arms and show him that I'm not buying his act. "They are. There were hugs and tears and apologies, and it was all very wholesome. Now, what do you want?"

My clipped tone startles Vlad. He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Daniel, is it so hard for you to believe that I might actually be concerned?"

I open my mouth then close it when I recall what Vlad told me a few weeks ago. It was the morning after I spent the night with him because, thanks to some particularly cruel words from Mom, I thought I couldn't go home. "You have a lot of spirit, Daniel. No pun intended. Sure, you can be a bit moody, but who isn't at your age? I don't know what you were like before your death, but I'm certain you were still a kind and thoughtful young man. Circumstances have a habit of bringing out our true colors, and yours are very bright and inviting. You wouldn't be an angel if you weren't as pure as you are. … Bottom line, little badger, you've been through things that would send stronger men than you into an endless spiral. Throughout everything, and I'm sure I don't even know of half of your misadventures, you've remained the good person that you are and, I assume, retained all your morals. You are someone to be admired, Danny Phantom."

Vlad's Obsession is love, and he was and might still be fixated on my reckoning not turning out like his. That's why I believed him when he said that he liked me.

That's why I should believe him when he says that he cares.

"Sorry," I say. "My parents really do accept me. You don't have to worry about that."

Vlad scans me up and down, looking for the nonexistent cracks in my armor. "How do you know for certain? Your mother and father have despised our kind for as long as I've known them. They could easily be plotting your execution as we speak."

My head fills with dissection notes, and I shove Vlad so he doesn't see the emotions that come with them. He grabs the bannister to keep from falling on the stairs. "What is your problem, cheesehead?" I demand. "Why are you so convinced that my own family can't love me if I'm a ghost?"

Vlad grits his teeth in a hard scowl. His voice is angry, but there is honest pain in his eyes. "Here is a lesson you need to learn, Daniel James Fenton: people don't change."

"You're wrong!"

"You are the one who is wrong! Do you expect years of bigotry to magically go away just because they share DNA with a ghost? Also, are you aware that your Cryokinesis is acting up?"

I realize that it's snowing and dissipate the cloud above us and the light dusting at our feet.

Vlad opens his mouth. I speak before he can make me any angrier. "If there's anyone around here who can't change, it's you, Vladimir Nathaniel Masters. Here are a few lessons for you. My mom didn't love you twenty-two years ago, and she certainly doesn't love you now. My dad may have caused the accident that gave you powers, but an accident is all it was. I would rather tear out my innards, stomp on them, and feed them to a wolverine than be your son."

"That is enough out of you, Daniel!" Vlad snaps, his eyes flashing red.

It may be enough for him, but it's not enough for me. Not when everything is bubbling over like a pot of water that's been left on the stove too long. "You lie and cheat and steal and hurt people to get your way. When things don't go according to plan, you either dance around it or blame someone else! You are the villain in this story, and you refuse to admit it!"

Vlad takes a dangerous step toward me. His eyes are red and stay that way, and he's at least a foot taller than me, but I don't flinch. "And, just what makes me the villain? Everything I've done since the accident has been self-preservation! I'm doing what I can to have some semblance of the life I should have led!"

My laughter is loud, fierce enough that I double over with my arms around my stomach. Fury radiates off of Vlad, which somehow makes this funnier. When I calm down, I throw my arms toward him. "Jesus Christ, do you even hear yourself? Newsflash, Vlad, you can live a happy human life and still be a good person! I've been doing it since my accident-"

"How happy has your life been, Daniel? Your parents were ghost hunters before you were a thought in their heads. Their efforts to eradicate us doubled when ghostkind was revealed to the world. You accuse me of spying on you, and I will not deny the occasional…glimpse into your home."

"Creepy bastard," I mutter.

Vlad ignores that. "The point is that it doesn't take a hidden camera to see that your life has not been a happy one. If anything, it's gotten steadily worse over time."

He might think differently if he was here for the party and saw me surrounded by love. Not just from old friends, but from new ones too. Ghosts I would never have met or gotten to know without my powers. Bullies I might not have befriended otherwise.

My life has had challenges. There were plenty of times when I could honestly say that I wasn't happy and I wanted to disappear. But, if everything was leading up to what I have now, I wouldn't change a thing.

"You know nothing about my life," I snarl.

"And, you know nothing of mine." Vlad grabs my shirt collar in both hands and yanks me toward him and leans into my face. "I did not have the benefit of my best friends being there when I died. It took a week for me to find someone who saw me as a person instead of a monster! And just when I thought I was getting somewhere, my reckoning happened!"

He throws me across the room. Pain bursts through me when my spine collides with the wall. I lay in a dazed heap on the floor and blink into focus. My core trembles at the sight of Vlad now crouched down and clutching his chest with one hand. His other hand is wrapped tightly around the bannister, the only thing stopping him from collapsing as well.

The mere mention of his reckoning is hurting his core. He must still be fixated. Help him help him, my own core cries. I would do so with or without my Obsession.

I despise this man, but like the night I found him alone and in agony in a parking lot, I don't want him to suffer.

"Vlad?" A moan is his response. I crawl up to him. "Hold still."

The only angel power I have right now is the Healing Touch, which can heal any injury or cure any illness but also drains my energy. Internal stuff is especially taxing. I can't use the Healing Touch too often without a break or I'm at risk of destabilizing. One little pick-me-up will be safe, though.

A gentle warmth and a soft yellow glow envelope my hand. I reach for Vlad's chest, but he stubbornly bats my hand away and growls, "Don't touch me."

Well, Mr. Masters, I can be stubborn too. "Humor me."

Vlad hesitates then relents. I don't know if the Healing Touch actually helps his core, but when I did this before, it at least seemed to ease the pain. I press my still-glowing hand to his chest and let my powers do the rest.

"I'm sorry," I say after a while. The words won't come if I look him in the eye, so I keep my gaze firmly on the yellow light. "You say that people saw you as a monster, not a person. I'm no better. I mean, you are a monster," I clarify, "but monsters are still people. You may think that people can't change, but I've seen it happen."

"If any good came out of this, it's that ten years without ghost powers have given me a chance to see what a fool I'd been."

I'm starting to feel winded - this power is easier in ghost-form - but I keep my energy flowing. "There's good in you, Vlad Masters. If there wasn't, my parents wouldn't have been friends with you." I finally look up and see him struggle to keep his face blank. "Do you miss that? Being friends with them?"

Vlad smacks my hand off his chest. "You shouldn't waste your energy on me."

I can't tell if that's my answer or not.

Vlad stands up and so do I. He straightens his suit and doesn't meet my gaze. "For the record, you are better than them. The ones who couldn't see past the ghost, I mean. They would have kicked me while I was down." When his dark blue eyes meet my lighter ones, I feel that I am speaking to the real Vlad, the one hidden beneath the holier-than-thou facade. "Take my advice, Danny. Don't lose yourself." Like I did, goes unsaid.

I shove my hands into my pants pockets so I don't hug this man.

He takes a composing breath. "Your parents are probably wondering what's taking so long." He gestures toward the door. "Shall we?"

He starts up the stairs before I can figure out what else there is to say.

Mom and Dad are still hovering by the door when we return. "You two were down there for a while," Mom says with a suspicious glance at Vlad.

Vlad's mask is back on. "Oh, a simple man-to-man is all it was. Now, I'm afraid I've stayed for longer than planned, so I really must be on my way."

"Nonsense!" Dad chimes, wrapping his arm around Vlad's shoulders. "You gotta at least say hi to Jazz. She loves you!"

About as much as she loves finding roadkill in her bed.

Vlad takes a long step forward. "Say hello to her for me." He wraps his fingers around the doorknob then looks at my parents over his shoulder. "You do accept Daniel for who and what he is, correct?" When my parents confirm this with solemn sincerity, Vlad only looks at them for a moment. The mask slips enough that he adds, "He's a good kid. Hold on to him."

He leaves without another word. I'm tempted to follow him out and…I don't know.

"That Vladdy! What a guy!" Dad praises, oblivious as always. He slaps my back, which serves as a reminder that I'd just been thrown against a wall. I choke down a pained shout. "You're a lucky guy to have him looking out for you."

I say nothing.

"Hey!" Dad chimes. "Since the cake didn't work out, what's say we dig into some fudge? I found a recipe online for salted caramel pretzel flavor, and I've been saving it for a special occasion!"

He runs to the kitchen, and I mentally prepare myself for another battle against Dad's cooking. Somehow, he always manages to get ectoplasm into the food. At least fighting it will be easier now that I can safely use my powers in this house.

"Danny," Mom says with a raised eyebrow. "Has Vlad really been looking out for you? Last I checked, you couldn't stand the man."

Vlad has caused me endless grief since the moment he discovered my secret identity. He made multiple attempts on my father's life, one of which backfired and put my sister in the hospital. Most of his riches were obtained by overshadowing business owners and conducting a series of invisible burglaries. He doesn't care who he steps on to get what he wants.

He also taught me how to make scalloped potatoes. He didn't flinch when I held on to him and cried because I'd hit my breaking point. He made me breakfast when I spent the night at his place. He's fixated on my reckoning not turning out like his.

In a distant future that no longer exists, he is a man with a lot of regrets.

Vlad is a manipulative thorn in my side. And, he's hurting in ways that have nothing to do with his core.

"Let's put it this way," I tell Mom. "I don't agree with a lot of the things Vlad does. But every now and then, his heart is in the right place."

Here's my plan in regards to the next two stories. Bub's birthday is coming up IRL, as is the last day of Danny's ghost puberty. Therefore, I would like to post those stories on the proper days solely to amuse myself.

Bub's birthday will be a one-shot that will be up on July 9.

The reckoning story will be up on July 23.

This is all assuming I can wait that long. I will do my best. See you then!