Phantom

"I want to be the reason you look down at your phone and smile. Then walk into a pole." - Unknown

"Let's, um, let's sit down," I start lamely. Sweat is beading on my forehead. Mom and Dad see this and grow more concerned. I try to laugh it off. "I felt good going into this. I, uh…"

Suddenly, Dad smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Son, I think I know what you're going to say."

"You do?" I ask.

"You do?" Mom repeats.

Dad gives her a humored glance before saying to me. "Phantom obviously means a lot to you." My heart stops. "As long as he treats you the right way, if you want to keep seeing him, I don't see why-"

"No!" I shout. "That is not even remotely what's happening!" Seriously, ew!

Dad retracts his hand with an embarrassed grin. Mom looks like she's wondering what she missed.

I sigh. "Can we please sit down?"

We retreat to the couch. Dad and I sit on either end with Mom sandwiched between us. I am trying to sit as far on the end as possible, but Dad's bulk means that I'm not left with much wiggle room.

I take a fortifying breath. "First off, I want to say how proud I am of you guys." Yes. Start with the positives. Ease into the negatives. "I know you don't understand why, but ghostkind is really important to me."

"We understand why," Mom says with a sweet smile. "At least, we did once we found out about your son."

My own smile softens when I picture her and Dad holding Bub so gently. "You'll never know how much that meant to me. You accepted a ghost into our family! That's- My god, I-I never thought that would happen!"

Mom and Dad grin at each other and hold hands.

"It gave me such hope," I continue with the slightest tremor in my voice. "But, the truth is, Bub's not the reason I started caring about ghosts."

"Is it Phantom?" Dad asks. "From the sound of things, you two are pretty close."

He isn't wrong. "It is Phantom. But, not for the reason you might think." When Mom and Dad only wait for me to elaborate, I rise from my seat and stand in front of them. My knees are shaking, and my stomach is churning. I'm excited, but I also feel like I'm going to throw up. "I want you to think back for a moment. Back to when I was a freshman and my grades dropped and I was skipping school and I was tired all the time. And, how that got better the next year but didn't stop being a problem until this year."

I have my parents' full attention. They tried and tried to get me to open up to them, but I was terrified. I'm sure they had every theory from teenage rebellion to gang violence. I highly doubt "half-ghost" ever crossed their minds.

"Now recall how all your inventions affect me," I say. "Ghost detectors point right at me. Weapons that aren't supposed to hurt humans hurt me." My parents' expressions tighten, and their eyes are widening. They've eaten the appetizer. It's time for the main course. "And, uh, ever notice how similar the name Danny Fenton is to Danny Phantom?"

They shoot to their feet so fast that I almost fall over the coffee table. Mom makes a few quiet sounds before giving up on speaking, and Dad's voice trembles when he asks, "Son, what are you saying?"

I start to walk around the coffee table for some room, but something has me walking backwards through it instead. My parents' eyes are locked on my legs until I say, "I think it's better if I show you. Please just…just…please." My voice cracks on the last word.

There's no going back now.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

(I don't know what I'll do if this goes poorly.)

A burning cold starts at my midsection and rolls up and down my body. The transformation feels like it's taking an eternity.

My parents' startled gasps tell me that I've become the thing they used to hate more than anything else in the world. No one speaks for a long time. Mom and Dad stare at me in pure shock (or is that horror?), while I ball my shaking fists at my sides and force myself not to scream.

It works too well, turning my voice into a quaking whisper. "Say something."

Mom finds her voice first. She waves her hands toward me in jagged motions. "This… This… This-this can't be right!" She gesticulates wildly as she starts pacing the living room and speaking faster with every word. "This is… This is a trick! I-it's a trick! It has to be! My son's not- Because if he was, that would mean he- But-but, he didn't! He-he's alive and well!" She stops suddenly and turns to Dad. "Jack, you're with me on this, right?"

Dad doesn't seem to hear her. His eyes are still locked on me as he says so quietly, "He was so excited…"

"Jack, are you listening to me?" Mom snaps.

"Mom." Her panicked gaze shoots toward me. I step closer to her. She doesn't move, and I take that as a good sign. "It's me, Mom. Ask me a question. Something personal. I-I'll know the answer!"

Mom hesitates, then, "What are your two least favorite foods?"

That's an easy one. "Toast and peanut butter. Though, I like peanut butter on toast for some reason."

Mom's hand flies to her mouth.

Dad recovers from the shock enough to say, "I got one. This is something that only our Danny would know." He walks up to me and asks with a sharp intensity, "When I was real young, what did I want to be when I grew up?"

I chuckle at the answer. "An elephant with laser eyes."

Dad takes a few startled steps back. "Oh my god…"

I look from one parent to the other, taking in the slow realization on their faces. "It's me, guys. I'm your son, and…and I'm Danny Phantom."

There are tears in Mom's violet eyes. "But…but if…if you're a ghost, that means you…"

I lower my gaze. "I…I did die. But-"

"My baby!" Mom throws her arms around me and weeps. "Oh, my baby!"

I return her embrace as ectoplasm fills my eyes.

"How?" comes Dad's broken voice. He's crying too. "Son, how did this happen?"

Mom leaps away from me and whirls on Dad. "Jack, you can't ask a ghost that!"

The color drains from Dad's face. "I-I'm sorry!" he pleads to me. "I'm so sorry! I forgot!"

I'm not offended; I'm happy that they got at least one aspect of ghosts right. I hold up my hands in front of me. "It's okay! Some ghosts do get violent if you ask how they died, but I don't." My parents sigh in relief, and I add, "As for what happened… Uh, can I get a rain check on that?" Because if this is going as well as it seems, they have enough to feel guilty about.

Yes, I know I'll have to tell them eventually.

"Of course," Mom says with the saddest smile I've ever seen. She takes me by the shoulders and kisses my cold, inhuman cheek. "Sweetheart, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"But, why didn't you at least tell us it happened?" Dad asks. Then he smacks his forehead. "Who am I kidding? I know exactly why."

Mom steps back and puts her hand over her mouth again as she fights tears. "Oh my god, the things we did to you… The-the things we said to you… Oh, Danny…"

I take her hands, and my voice breaks. "You didn't know. Neither of you did," I add to Dad. "I didn't let you know."

"Well, why would you?" Dad asks miserably. "We're always going on about destroying ghosts and talking about how evil they-" He cuts himself off and runs a hand through his dark hair. "How did you live with us?"

Part of me wants to lie and say that it wasn't as bad as he thinks. But, I'm through with lying. My hand meets Dad's so that I'm holding on to both of my parents. "It's…it's been… The past two-and-a-half years have been…" My parents' grips tighten at the reveal of how long I've been this way, how long I've hidden in plain sight. "There are ups and downs. Living here isn't always bad, but I won't lie. There have been times when," don't sugarcoat it; just say it, "when it was…too much. I have thought about leaving. You'd be amazed at how many people have offered me a place to stay. But, I love you guys. Enough that-that leaving forever… It wouldn't feel right."

One day I'll be a full-ghost and my loved ones might not. I need to cherish the people in my life while I still have them.

No matter how much it hurts. If that makes me a masochistic, then so be it.

It's finally Dad's turn to hold me. "We're sorry," he says as Mom joins him. My ghost-form is swaddled in my human parents' arms, and that plus the guilt in Dad's voice puts me that much closer to falling apart. "I know saying that doesn't fix anything, but-"

"It helps," I say.

Two-and-a-half years of fear and frustration and anger and sorrow hit me at once, and I can no longer fight the tears that had been building up in my eyes.

We stand here and cry together for a long time. My parents are mourning their son's death and realizing what they've done to him. I'm marveling at the fact that they can feel that way about a ghost.

This is a turning point for us. I welcome whatever comes next.

As we start to calm down, I realize that I left out a key detail. When we pull away and brush off our tears, I say, "There is some good news, though." I push up my sleeves, roll back my gloves, and hold out my exposed wrists. "Go on," I add when Mom and Dad only stare at my deathly pale skin, at the vivid blue veins and bright red arteries underneath. "You'll really have to pay attention to feel it."

There's a spark of hope within the trepidation, but Mom and Dad press two fingers down on either of my wrists. It takes a few seconds, but I can see the exact moment they feel it.

"You," Dad says with a disbelieving joy, "you have a pulse!"

Mom's mouth had been hanging open. Now she retracts her hand like something bit it. "But, that's impossible! You're- By definition, you shouldn't-"

"Believe me," I say, "I thought the same thing. My understanding is that when the Por- Er, when I died, I was also revived. It's an ultra-rare phenomenon that almost no one knows anything about. All that matters is that I am a ghost, but I'm still alive." I place my hand on my chest, right over my merged heart and core. "This is me." I switch back to human-form. "And, this is also me. Half-human and half-ghost. They call me a halfa."

Dad grabs my hand and checks my pulse again. He grins when he feels how much faster it is, though it's still slower than what's considered healthy. "So, you're some kind of souped-up zombie! See, Maddie? I told you zombies were real!"

Mom ignores him. Her eyes glitter again as she cups my face in her hands. "We have so much to make up for."

Dad sobers at that. "Yeah, we do."

My eyes well up, but the smile on my face is happy and genuine. "You're off to a good start."

After all of that plus the squeal and bear hug I got from Jazz, I text everyone that, "It went well. Details later. I am too emotionally wiped. *cry-laughing emoji*" Once again, the replies are instantaneous.

Dash: *thumbs-up emoji*

Mira: YYYAAAAAAAAAYYYY!

Sam: What a relief. *smiley face emoji*

Paulina: You're making me wait? *crying emoji*

Valerie: So, I don't have to kill them?

Tucker: Congrats, dude!

Eileen: That's great! Can't wait to hear about it!

Reaper doesn't text back. Instead, I get a call from them the moment I finish reading the replies. "Hey, Grim," I greet upon answering. "You get my text?"

"Indeed," they confirm. "I must say that I was quite worried for you, my son."

I don't doubt it. Reaper applied stitches to a deep gash on my side that my father gave me. Multiple times, my grim held me and dried my tears when the stress and the anguish caused by my birth parents became too great. Reaper is one of the only people who knows how deeply my fear of Mom and Dad ran, how petrified I was of being discovered.

But, that's in the past. The present is good, and the future is brighter than it's ever been.

"I was hoping," Reaper goes on, "that I might speak with your mother and father."

This catches me off-guard for a few reasons. The main one is that Reaper isn't comfortable around humans. Jazz, Sam, and Tucker are exceptions because of their closeness with me and their familiarity with ghosts. Reaper told me once that humans have feared their name and appearance for millenia, so my grim rarely leaves the Ghost Zone. When they do come to Earth, they stay invisible. So, Reaper wanting to talk to strange humans - my parents, at that - is a little out of character.

There's also the fact that Eileen is well-known to be my imprinted parent, but the above reason has kept me from ever mentioning Reaper to humans outside of my circle of friends.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I say. "Hold on."

I find Mom and Dad at the kitchen table. Their notebook about me has been pushed to the opposite end, and my parents are huddled around Jazz. She's been working on a scrapbook of Phantom's accomplishments since she discovered my secret identity and has it open in front of her. She is giddy and animated as she shows off all my good deeds. Mom and Dad dismissed the scrapbook more than once. Now they see it in a new light, their expressions are a mix of pain and pride.

The sweet sight makes my throat close up. I hate to cut this short, but I clear my throat to get their attention. "Mom? Dad? Uh, you know how I have a ghost mom?"

"Oh, right," Mom says with a slight edge.

Dad speaks in a similar tone. "Your, uh, your teacher."

Jazz grits her teeth then says to them, "It's just ghost biology. It has nothing to do with you guys."

She looks at me in a way that's asking if she's right. Even though that's exactly what I've been told, I'm not convinced that it's correct in this case.

"Jazz is right," I say anyway. "And, I actually have two ghost parents." I don't miss the way Dad tenses up further. "There's Eileen, and there's this ghost named Reaper. Reaper is on the phone," I wiggle my ghost phone in front of me, "and they would like to speak with you two. They also happen to be an Ancient. As in, one of the first ghosts to ever exist. So, um, be polite."

Mom and Dad exchange nervous looks, before rising from their seats.

"Alright," Dad says. He points to my phone and adds in confusion. "Wait, that's not your phone. It looks like a tiny TV screen."

Oh, yeah. My human parents have never seen a ghost cellphone before.

I explain that it is, in fact, one of my phones then put it on speaker so all three parents can talk. I hand my phone off to Mom, and Jazz pulls me out of the kitchen and into the living room.

My sister has a huge smile on her face. "Can you believe this is happening?"

"No, I can't," I say. "I keep expecting to wake up and find Mom and Dad ranting about Phantom."

"You weren't in there when I was showing them my scrapbook. I think from now on, any ranting that happens is going to be about how proud they are of you."

I glance toward the kitchen, but I can't see anything from my angle. "Do you really think they're sincere?"

Jazz's smile softens. "Absolutely. No one is that good an actor, Danny."

My heart warms at the love in her eyes and her voice. "Thank you, Jazzie. For keeping my secret all this time. I don't think I ever said that. I should have."

Jazz wraps me in a hug that I'm happy to return. "I always knew you were grateful. Besides, I'm your big sister. It's my job to look after you."

"I never made it easy," I say through the new lump in my throat. "Before or after I died."

"It was always worth it."

"...Come on, Jazz. Do you know how sick I am of crying?"

Jazz laughs and pulls away. Her good mood fades at something behind me. I turn around and find Mom and Dad standing there with pale faces and thousand-yard stares.

"Are you guys okay?" I ask as Mom robotically hands me my phone.

Dad's tone is as blank as his expression. "That was the most calm death threat I've ever heard."

Mom doesn't sound any better. "Your other ghost parent has the title of 'Master of Death?'"

I look down at my phone and see that Reaper has already hung up. I'll have to call them later and ask what they said.

"Reaper's not some kind of death-bringer, if that's what you're worried about," Jazz assures. "They're actually really nice."

"They're more like…like a guardian of souls," I say. "Angels sometimes pick specific areas to watch over. Me with Amity Park, for instance. Reaper usually sticks to their lair, but they look after any ghost who needs help."

The information snaps my parents out of their haze. "You're an angel?" Dad asks. "I thought you said you were called a halfa."

Ah, geez. That revelation is still so new to me that it completely slipped my mind.

"I think we should all sit back down," Jazz suggests.

That's probably a good idea.

We head back into the kitchen and sit. Three of the chairs are still clustered around the scrapbook, leaving me alone at the other end of the table. An appropriate position, I suppose.

"Now, bear in mind," I begin, "I just learned about this, like, two weeks ago, so I can't tell you very much."

"Oh!" Dad says suddenly. "Slide that notebook over here, son. We should write this down."

"Good idea, Jack," Mom says. Then she frowns. "We're probably going to have to redo our notes…"

"I can help," I offer. "Better yet, why don't I do it for you?" When my parents hesitate, I add, "Really, I'd love to help! Now that you know my secret, there's so much I can tell you! And, not just about me. I'd love to share what I know about ghosts in general. History, core stuff, my favorite places in the Ghost Zone. I can tell you all sorts of things!"

Jazz chimes in. "Let him do it! His Obsession is helping others, so you'd be helping each other. I could help too if you want."

"If we want?" Dad says. This is the most excited he and Mom have been in a while. "The whole family blathering on about ghosts! I can hardly wait!"

Mom places her hand over his. "Well, you'll have to wait, dear." To me, "You were saying, Danny?"

Back to business. "There are a few different types of ghosts. Ghouls are the crazy ones who don't seem to have any conscious thought whatsoever. They are born in the Ghost Zone. Demons are too, but unlike ghouls, they can actually think. Then you've got spirits, who are the souls of the dead. And, halfas like me, though as I've stated, we're insanely rare."

"Have you ever met another halfa?" Mom asks.

The question gives me pause. "Yes, but that's a story for another time." I'll tell them about Danielle some day, but I will not break my promise by revealing Vlad's secret.

Yet.

"Angels are more of a subspecies," I explain. "As long as a ghost is sentient, they have the potential to form as an angel."

"But, what exactly is an angel?" Mom asks, dipping into science mode.

"Angels are essentially guardians. They have a base instinct to protect. They often latch on to areas they're familiar with and guard the people living there, but they'll look out for anyone who needs it."

"That's why you stayed with us," Dad says sadly.

My heart hurts. "I told you. I stayed because I love you guys. I don't have to live here to protect Amity Park. I want to."

"Let's move on," Jazz says when our parents aren't reassured. "Tell them about the cool things you're gonna get after your reckoning."

"The reckoning!" Mom gasps. "That is real, isn't it?"

I shudder at the thought. July 23 gets a little closer every day. "Unfortunately. What makes it worse is that angels are some of the most powerful beings in the Ghost Zone, second only to Ancients."

"Will our defenses be enough?" Mom says.

Dad waves dismissively. "Of course they will, Maddie-bear. We've been collecting data straight from the source and upgrading our weaponry. Plus, Vladdy and the Guys and White are helping! It'll be fine."

Something else is on Mom's mind. "Danny, why can't you go to the Ghost Zone on that day? You never said."

Jazz takes the lead. "There's this ghost named Clockwork. He's an Ancient like Reaper, and he's known as the Master of Time. I've never met him myself, but from what Danny, Sam, and Tucker have told me-"

"Sam and Tucker know?" Dad asks.

I laugh. "Are you surprised?"

"Wait a minute," Mom says in her stern-parent voice. "You brought humans into the Ghost Zone? Jazz, have you been there too?"

Jazz attempts to make herself part of the chair.

I should have seen this coming. "I'm always with them." Except when I'm not. "And, we stick to areas that we know are safe if we can help it." Except when we don't.

Mom is pacified, but I know we're not finished with this conversation.

"Anyway," I continue. "Like his title suggests, Clockwork knows everything that's ever happened and everything that will happen. He said that I would attack the town on July 23. He didn't say why, but he's never wrong about these things. Now that I don't have to worry about you guys asking questions, I'll probably hole up in the Ghost Zone a few days prior. I've changed the future before - long story - and I'm hoping to do it again.

Moving on," I say because I need to change the subject. "I've mentioned before that I'll gain a new ghost-form after the reckoning. Since I'm an angel, that presumably means that I'll get wings."

"Wings?" Dad chimes. "Cool! Wait, you can already fly."

"The wings aren't just for flight," Jazz says. "There are combat advantages too. And once Danny's true ghost-form has developed, he should be getting some new angel powers, as well."

"Like what?" Mom asks me.

I shrug. "I don't know. Reaper said they'd go over that stuff after my reckoning was complete. What complicates it is that I am supposedly the first halfa in history to also be an angel, so there are a lot of unknowns. That's really all I've got for you right now."

"Oof," Dad says, leaning back with his arms crossed. "Is anyone else's head spinning?"

Mom massages her temples. "This is a lot to take in." To me, "But, we'll help you with whatever you need."

"That's right, son," Dad agrees. "The Fenton family sticks together," he adds meaningfully.

It doesn't feel real yet, my parents loving me despite my ghost-half. Having them want to help me for something other than science reasons is…nice.

"I love you guys," I say with all my heart.