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Life was dangerous in Amity Park, between the ghosts and the ghost hunters, there was a lot of crossfire to get stuck in.
And then the GIW came to town.
Somehow, despite what they promised, things got even more dangerous. Ghost attacks went from having to dodge the well meaning but slightly bumbling Fentons to having to flee the GIW.
In some cases (in a lot of cases) they were more dangerous than the ghost at hand. Their equipment was somehow less reliable than the Fentons’, and their bureaucracy sometimes had them standing around uselessly until they received “permission” to engage. Other times, they would burst onto a scene that Phantom already had handled, and make it worse. The ghost Phantom had subdued would either escape, or Phantom himself would find himself in the line of fire.
And yeah, the Fentons hunted Phantom too, but often if he’d defeated the ghost of the week, or was obviously retreating, they’d let him off with a few pot shots and some shouting. There almost seemed to be a truce between the Fentons and Phantom, or perhaps an understanding.
Whatever it was, it was clear the GIW did not hold the same sentiment.
No one quite knew who first noticed. Who started the first whispered rumors, who first had seen.
Amity Park had become a wild place to live. With ghosts appearing at random, and ghost hunters not far behind, life had changed drastically. And with it had come an uptick in injuries and scars. Running wildly from a ghost attack often ended with twisted ankles or skinned knees. Ghost fights often damaged walls and windows, and the flying shrapnel had caused more than one laceration.
Really, with the amount of damage ghost attacks could cause, it was a miracle that no one had been severely hurt.
(“A miracle,” Paulina scoffed the first time she heard the term used on a news report. “It’s no miracle—it’s Phantom.”)
All this to say, it wasn’t unusual for the kids of Casper High to have some scars, to have a bit of a limp or a cast on a wrist. Nothing ever serious. Nothing that needed more than a few weeks of taking it easy, or needing some help to take notes.
So it was fairly easy to notice the outlier.
Danny Fenton.
Danny Fenton, a popular choice for bullies, who lived in the very house that the portal that started it all resided.
Danny Fenton, who always seemed to have something injured.
Perhaps it was Dash who noticed it first—Dash, who went to shove Fentina in a locker and let out a gasp when Danny’s ribs moved under his hand. Who watched as Danny went impossibly paler, and stammered out a half hearted taunt.
It could have been Mikey, who noticed odd scars that curled over Danny’s back one day after gym. Who couldn’t hold in the gasp, and felt helpless and awkward when Danny whirled around and they locked eyes for a seemingly endless moment. Mikey didn’t ask.
Danny never said.
(Danny changed in the bathroom stalls at the end of the locker room after that.)
Perhaps it was Paulina, who after getting into it with Sam whipped around and accidentally slammed past Danny as she stalked away—and heard the horrific sound of bone popping against bone, and the slightest hiss of Danny’s breath.
It may have been Star, who saw the way Danny’s clothes moved and clung in ways that weren’t right. Who noticed the bulky squares of bandages and how stiff he was at times.
Perhaps, though, it was Lancer, who took notice of Danny’s thick hoodies and the uncomfortable way he sometimes sat in class. (And Lancer, again, tried to talk to someone, anyone about his student, whose grades had dropped, who was obviously bullied, who seemed injured. And again, his concerns were brushed aside, citing ghost attacks, citing kids being kids, citing the boy’s clumsiness. And Lancer was left to make another note in his record book, to do what he could to protect his students against what should have been impossible, and hoping every day that today wouldn’t end in tragedy.)
Perhaps it was Wes, the kid who had a thousand theories he’d shout from the roof and hundreds more he kept close to his vest. Perhaps it was Wes, who more than once had seen Danny tending to wounds that no one else seemed to ever get. Who had seen Danny at his worst, who did everything he could to be a laughing stock.
Attention on him, meant that no one was paying attention to Danny.
Regardless of who noticed first, it wasn’t long until the student body of Casper High—along with some of the teachers—noticed the wounds Danny sported. The scars he carried.
No one knew the answer, no one knew the reason.
It was also clear that scars were not the only thing that Danny carried with him. And he wasn’t alone—the students of Casper High carried similar invisible wounds.
Ever since the GIW decided to make things worse, people started getting wary. The whine of an ecto-pistol could have students diving for cover just as easily as the eerie hum of an ectoblast. Sudden changes in temperature had people grabbing weapons. Contacts that changed one’s eye color had very quickly fallen out of fashion not long after the ghost attacks started.
The GIW had everyone on edge, but it was Danny who would jerk at the slightest sign of all white suits. It was Danny who would sit stiff and tense during GIW searches for wayward ghosts.
It was Danny they came for.
It starts like a normal day.
It’s far too early to be awake, to hear the grating alarm in the wispy gray of predawn. On Mondays, it always feels like the alarm goes off far, far too quickly.
With a groan, Dash smacks the alarm, cracking an eye open when the sound doesn’t instantly stop.
The bright red numbers on his alarm clock read 4:37 AM. His alarm goes off at six. His room is too dark, and there’s no hint of dawn—no birds carrying on, no muffled TV from his parents’ room.
His phone keeps going off, and he fumbles for it, confused.
A bright red notification covers most of his screen, drastically changing his phone’s lock screen. The words are blurred, but he recognizes the app that’s blaring across his screen. It’s the ghost attack app that Foley put together—and later added notices about the Fentons (their driving is one hell of a hazard) and more recently, GIW sightings. He’s pretty sure it’s not just Foley who publishes the apps notifications, and while it was just Manson and Fenton for a bit, Jazz has helped out before. He thinks other kids from the nerdier side of school have helped with the app’s coding and stuff. And there’s a section to submit sightings and other alerts.
Adrenaline bursts and spreads through his system, and he sits up, willing the words to make sense.
It takes seconds longer than he’d like, but the alert becomes clear.
RED ALERT, the notification reads, and Dash tries to swallow. AFTER ANOTHER FAILED ATTEMPT AT CAPTURING A GHOST, THE GIW TURNS ALL ATTENTION TO PHANTOM.
“Fuck,” Dash says, running a hand through sleep mussed hair. He almost doesn’t want to read the rest—the GIW have been after Phantom since the start. If there’s an alert about them hunting Phantom, something major has changed.
He continues to read.
A ghost shield has been erected around Amity Park. The GIW have accessed all available technology in an attempt to locate Phantom. The Fenton Portal is closed and guarded. The GIW has demanded that all unusual activity be reported for fear of overshadowing.
Phantom has not been spotted since capturing the ghost the GIW had been hunting—the ghost is believed to have been Ember.
We have reports of the GIW randomly raiding people’s homes. Some have been accused of lying about their knowledge of Phantom’s whereabouts.
The Fenton’s GAV has also been spotted around town, though it is unclear if they’re supporting the GIW or not.
A GIW agent has been reported saying that any and all unexcused absences from Casper High students today will be recorded as suspicious and home searches may be conducted. Parents calling in to say their child will not be attending school today will not count as excused.
Stay alert. Stay together. Say nothing.
Casper High stands with Phantom.
“You bet your ass we do,” Dash mutters, shoving himself up and out of bed. He’s barely managed to find pants before his phone’s going off again, this time a ringtone he recognizes.
“I’m up,” Dash answers, fumbling for socks.
“Read the alert already?” Kwan asks, sounding nearly grim.
“Yeah,” Dash says. “The eggheads in white are going after the only good thing the portal spat out.”
“I’m really sick of ‘em,” Kwan says.
“I am too,” Dash shoves a shirt over his head, clutching his socks. “They’re making everything worse, and they can’t get Phantom. It’d be like letting the Bulldogs kidnap our entire defensive line!”
“No way, dude!” Kwan says loudly. “We gotta do something.”
“We do!” Dash agrees. “I don’t know what though—we can’t skip school without the jerks in white searching our houses or something. And Phantom’s hard to pin down.”
“Fenton might know,” Kwan says after a pause. “Phantom uses Fenton tech—and isn’t one of the theories that Fenton gets hurt helping Phantom out?”
“I think so,” Dash says, gut twisting a bit. He’s eased off of Fenton a lot, both because the dude doesn’t need anymore injuries, and because…
Because Dash realized he was becoming something, someone, that wasn’t good. That wasn’t someone that anyone would look up too. And…and it’d kind of be nice, to be someone to look up to. He’d seen recently, a big football star get a lot of hate online from things he’d done in high school.
Beyond that, with everything going on—ghost attacks and Phantom and the GIW—he’d seen a lot. Seen how little things could build up and hurt. A lot of people hated Phantom, just ‘cause he was a ghost. So they chased him and hurt him and hunted him, or just shouted names and hate.
And Dash had done much to the same—of course, not to the level of the GIW, but he…well he wasn’t a good dude.
(And Dash will never say, will never be able to talk about it, but he’d met Poindexter. The ghost lingered around the school a lot, and Dash could feel it when Poindexter was near. The shiver of eyes on him, the weight of disapproval. Paulina had gotten curious one day, and looked him up
While his obituary never outright said, had beaten around the bush, Dash wasn’t dumb enough to not read between the lines. Poindexter had been bullied to death, and it was a miracle that Dash hadn’t been more on the receiving end of his justified wrath.
And they’d all had to look at each other and wonder if they could live with it. If they could live with having said or done something just a step too far, a step too much.)
So Dash and his friends hadn’t been as bad lately. Had tried to be better without being weird but—they hadn’t said anything really. Hadn’t apologized.
Didn’t know how.
Still didn’t know how, but things were getting dangerous, and they needed to stand together. A united front.
“Meet me at the school,” Dash says, looking for anything that might be useful, before his hand finds something he hasn’t thought about, let alone touched in ages. He grins. “Kwan, I’ve got an idea.”
“Why the fuck are you here?” Sam hisses out, as if it’s not obvious. Still, Danny ducks his head and moves with the flow of bodies that are entering the school.
“The GIW is already guarding the portal,” Danny hisses back, pulling his backpack tighter. “I can’t give them an excuse to start looking through more things!”
Tucker presses into Danny’s otherside. “How the hell did they get into FentonWorks anyway? Your parents aren’t exactly buddies with them.”
Danny twists his hands in the straps of his backpack. “The GIW started making noises about CPS.”
Sam makes a low noise, nearly inhuman. “Low, even for them.”
“Were you able to get Ember back into the Zone?” Tucker asks, even as they turn into the cafeteria. Danny catches Tuckers’ eye and shakes his head. His backpack weighs heavier with the occupied Thermos within.
It’s not their usual place in the mornings. It’s crowded with kids grabbing late breakfasts and chatting before the first bell. Danny, Sam, and Tucker are usually either too late to join or too tired to deal with the bustle of it all so early.
Now though, it’s a good place to blend in.
They’re apparently not the only ones who think so. As Danny looks around, it’s clear there’s more people in here than usual. A lot of them look wary, or like they didn’t get much sleep. The late alarm’s the likely cause, though Tucker hadn’t written the whole thing. He’d shot it off to Mikey and a couple of the other people who kept a finger on what was happening around town to add some details.
They’d skimmed it after the alert had gone live, the information about the GIW demanding all kids attend school had been news to them.
Sam steers them to a table—careful to not be so obvious that they’re avoiding attention. She picks one that’s not so close to the emergency exit as to be obvious as flight risks, but still open enough to have a chance. The table’s occupied by other kids, some of whom Danny doesn’t know very well and doesn’t see very often, but no one says anything when they sit.
Danny winces as he sits in the hard chair. He has to twist a bit to keep pressure off his side, but the move pulls at his upper thigh.
He had not escaped the GIW last night unscathed.
“You need to eat,” Sam says, looking over to the line for the school breakfasts. If school lunches were bad, the breakfasts were worse, but kids ate it anyway. The line’s distressingly long, and Danny has little interest in standing in the press of everyone for mediocre food.
Sam is right though, he needs to eat something. It’s been a long night, and he hadn’t wanted to linger at home.
Another wave of people come in, and the echo of voices gets louder. There’s a lot of nervous faces, wary glances, and groups sticking tight together. He notices several kids having backpacks that normally don’t, but ‘suspicious activity’ is freaking vague and not having your schoolwork at school would probably draw attention.
The new wave of people causes some shuffling, and people move past their table.
An uncrustable peanut butter and jelly sandwich slides in front of Danny, and he doesn’t look up fast enough to see who it was. Move movement, and two different flavors of milk (chocolate and strawberry) end up on Danny’s end of the table.
“What the?” Tucker questions, looking into the crowd but no one’s really looking at them.
Someone passes by with a tray, and Danny’s not entirely sure what her name is. She’s an upperclassman, he thinks. Probably more his sister’s age. She’s looking annoyed.
She slaps a tray down in front of him. “If you’re gonna eat, at least use a tray.”
She’s walking away by the time Danny can process what the fuck, and he’s left with a tray that has a fruit cup and a couple of french toast sticks on it. The cup of maple syrup is unopened.
“Well,” Sam says, for once looking rather lost for words.
“Might as well eat, dude,” Tucker says, looking out for more random food. “Those french toast sticks are only good warm.”
Danny wastes no time opening the syrup. “I have no idea what’s happening,”
“Do you ever?” Sam teases, but it’s clear she’s just as confused.
They get about five minutes of peace, with Danny devouring the french toast sticks and getting halfway through the uncrustable. He’s debating whether he likes the strawberry milk (not something he usually grabs) when things, perhaps predictably, go to hell.
Several engines roar outside, and there’s a new cacophony of voices and beeping tech. Someone in the cafeteria shouts, but there’s no hiss of cold between Danny’s teeth, no pull towards a ghost that’s made itself known.
Glass shatters and several more people scream. There’s a surge of movement from the emergency doors, and the windows that surround them. Students move in a wave away from the GIW, and there’s something beeping frantically. Tucker stands, with Danny and Sam following close behind.
“Everyone stay calm!” An agent shouts. He’s flanked by two other agents, one of whom has an odd device that’s the source of beeping.
Danny doesn’t like the looks of that thing.
Sam and Tucker press close, trying to use the crowd and the press of students to blend in. It’s tough to do so and still see what’s happening.
“What the hell?” Someone yells, and other students start yelling for explanations. Some particularly brazen people yell for the GIW to get the fuck out.
“Pardon our interruption to your days,” The agent continues, he doesn’t sound sorry. “But we have tracked a ghost to this location. In moments, we will have it safely in custody and you may go about your day.”
There’s barely a moment for Danny to wonder how the fuck they’ve managed to track Ember while she’s in the freaking thermos when the beeping turns into a high, grating whine.
“Target locked!” An agent shouts. “Phantom acquired!”
“Wha—” Sam starts to question, trying to pull Danny further away but—a muffled thump, a high whistle, and the whine reaches a level that stabs through Danny and he stumbles.
Something cold slams around his face and in an instant his body is on fire. His scream is muffled and pain slices across his face as he tries and fails to open his mouth. There’s a lot of shouting, and he vaguely sees Sam pull out a Fenton Boo staff, while Tucker pulls out something heavy and metal.
The pain doesn’t let up, and the fire burns through him. His core shakes in his chest, power building. He recognizes the cold of his transformation, the spread of power before he switches forms. He can’t stop, can’t even try. It bursts through him, far more painful than it’s ever been, but he still can barely scream.
He’s left shaking on the ground, as Phantom instead of Fenton.
“RUN!” Sam shouts, slamming the Boo staff into the nearest Agent’s knee. He can’t. He’s transformed but it’s all the thing around his face will allow. He can feel his power locked in his core, and he reaches up to try and rip the device off his face.
It’s all smooth metal and fire. There’s no where to grip, really, and it seems to clamp tighter the more he tries to find a place to grip.
Someone shoots a net, and Sam’s next assault is halted by the weight of it falling on her. Two agents have Tucker pressed against one of the support pillars in the middle of the cafeteria. There’s confused voices and far too many people in white, far, far too close.
Danny tries to get up, tries to help, but his limbs are made of lead and everything hurts.
“Disgusting,” The GIW agent says, leaning over Danny. Sam roars wordlessly from the tangled net, trying to get out, but agents have the net, and they drag her away.
“Leave them al—” Danny chokes, the device filling his mouth with something foul that freezes his mouth in place. He can’t move his jaw, and no matter how hard he tries, his body refuses to shift. He can’t morph or change anything, and he’s never felt this solid as a ghost.
“There’s no need for you to speak,” The agent says and Danny wants to punch him so badly. “What a beast you are, to pretend to be human. Tricky of you. But luckily not tricky enough.” The agent smiles, but there’s something hollow and terrifying in his eyes.
There’s a lot of talking going on, from the students around Danny. Whispering, shocked exclamations.
Fenton is Phantom? He hears more than once. Fear claws inside him. Sam and Tucker are down, he’s helpless, and his secret has been revealed to the entire school.
He’s lost.
The agent smiles like he hears Danny’s thoughts.
“We thank you for your cooperation,” The Agent says, addressing the student body that has gone oddly quiet around them. “As you can see, the ghost boy has finally been neutralized. You are safe now. We will remove it, and the poor students who have been brainwashed to defend it.”
No, Danny thinks desperately, looking rapidly back and forth between Sam and Tucker. No, not them.
Power hums around his core, and it’s just enough, just barely enough. Danny surges up, slamming his palms out to either side and managing a single ectoblast from each palm. Tucker shouts, even as one of the agents holding him cries out in pain and loosens his grip just enough. Sam doesn’t hesitate, using the slack he’d gotten her to out of the net.
Danny looks up at the agent that had spoken before and meets the dark hollow of the end of an ecto-pistol. It takes up most of his vision.
Run, he mentally begs his friends. Run, don’t stop.
Something pops, and the Agent jerks back, sputtering. There’s lurid purple over his pristine shirt, but Danny doesn’t even have a chance to process it when someone hits him from the side.
It’s a textbook football tackle, and Danny’s slung up and over a shoulder with ease. He looks over and there’s another large body slamming into one of the other agents. Another pop and a different agent’s suit is soiled by deep forest green. The body tackling the agent pops back up, pulling out—is that water pistol? It’s a souped up one from the looks of it, the shot of water it fires is concentrated and has obviously been dyed red.
Danny blinks—is that Dash?
Dash—because now that Danny’s not focused solely on the agents, it’s pretty clearly Dash—hits the Agent closest to Sam with a shot of dyed water, and another pop spreads bright, bright pink with very obvious glitter over the agent that was trying to catch Tucker.
It’s chaos in moments, and the GIW are quickly covered in random colors. Danny watches as some students grab chairs and other random objects as weapons. The agents are trying to regain control, but several of them are freaking out over the state of their suits. The ones who aren’t are actively trying to fight the students.
The noise increases, and Danny twists a bit on the shoulder he’s slung over, trying to get a sense of the number of agents and how many students are in the line of fire. There’s far too many of both.
“Hold on,” Says the person holding him, and the voice is familiar. Danny blinks as the facts process—it’s Kwan that has him. It’s Dash who tackled the GIW. The students they pass are armed with various things—water guns, paintball guns, water balloons. Some of them have Fenton Personal Protective Shields.
What the fuck?
Kwan slows and shifts, sliding Danny off his shoulder and setting him into a chair. Kwan’s hands over around the thing that’s locked Danny’s mouth shut, but it’s clear he has no idea where to start to get it off.
Danny however, is trying to process this. It seems like the entire school came ready and willing to take a stance against the GIW. He can’t imagine why else they’d have armed themselves with anything and everything that would stain their suits. Beyond that, they risked themselves to free Danny—and Sam and Tucker.
Even after they’d seen him transform.
Danny cocks his head at Kwan, panic and confusion still vibrating around his core. He feels so exposed, and despite having his limbs free, he’s never felt this caught. This caged.
“Uh, sorry Phantom-Danny-Fenton-Phantom,” Kwan says, spitting out names so fast they blur. Danny winces. It’s clear Kwan has no idea how to process this, either. “I don’t know how to get this thing off.”
Danny shrugs, and tries to give a no problem wave, even as another wave of shouts and orders crests. They’ve slipped into the kitchens, tucked behind and around some of the freezers and storage shelves. It’s not ideal, but it is a decent place to hide.
Danny half stands, trying to press more power out of his core, trying to shapeshift enough to get the muzzle off, but nothing happens. His core just aches, and ecto runs horrifically slowly through him. It’s just, just barely enough to keep things moving as they should.
Kwan shifts, awkward. “I, uh, well. Do you think Fol—Tucker would be able to get this off?”
Danny nods. Tucker’s their best shot, honestly. But he could still be in the thick of it, and there’s the entire student body to try and keep safe from the GIW. They were going to take Sam and Tucker away. Who knows what they would have done to them to remove Phantom’s “brainwashing.” Nothing pleasant, of that Danny was sure.
They don’t have the time or resources for Tucker to spend on getting this muzzle off, and the GIW isn’t going to stop. Not with their ultimate target so close.
Someone screams. It’s high and pained.
Danny lurches up and is halfway out of the kitchens by the time Kwan catches up.
“Da—Phantom, you can’t,” Kwan says, hand firmly on Danny’s arm. Danny grits his teeth. He needs to do something. The GIW are after him, and anyone getting hurt right now is because of him. He’s tried so hard since the accident to keep the town safe. To protect the people he put in danger.
He hates the edge of helplessness that spikes around his core.
What to do, what to do.
Suddenly, the GIW’s sensors screech. Another ghost? Shit, if the GIW have more of these muzzles, it’s over.
“See!” Someone yells and Danny moves out from behind a row of shelving to see Paulina, paintball gun in hand, pointing to the GIW from the main entrance to the cafeteria. “I told you there’s bullies.”
“Bullies?” Poindexter hovers behind Paulina. “In my school?” What the hell, had she found Poindexter’s locker? How long has he even been out of the Zone? Danny had destroyed his mirror, he should be trapped in the Zone!
Danny turns to Kwan and points at his muzzle, and then points at Poindexter, hoping like hell he’ll be understood.
“Oh—oh!” Kwan says. “Uh, you think the GIW will have more of those face things?” Danny nods. Poindexter is in danger just in general around the GIW. Any ghost is. Kwan pulls out his phone and types something rapidly. “I’m warning them all to keep an eye out for them.”
It’s something, but—Danny blinks as he watches color seep from the cafeteria.
Oh. Oh, Poindexter is pissed.
Color leaks from everywhere, turning everything stark.
The colors that marr the GIW’s suits remain untouched, and they’re suddenly very, very obvious targets among a sea of sepia.
“I DON’T LIKE BULLIES,” Poindexter shouts, and the shiver of ectoplasm dances over Danny. He vanishes, and the GIW are left trying to figure out where he went while still getting pelted by multicolored projectiles.
“I didn’t think he was this strong,” Kwan says and yeah, that’s the problem. Poindexter doesn’t have the reserves to keep this up long. If the GIW get lucky with a shot, they could seriously hurt Sidney.
Danny can’t help, but…
The thermos. Ember.
Danny tugs on Kwan, making a motion towards his phone.
“Oh! Yeah, sure,” Kwan says, handing it over. Danny quickly types up what he needs and hands it back. Kwan reads it and laughs. “On it!”
He hands Danny a smaller paintball gun, one that’s styled like a pistol. Kwan jumps up on the serving counter, whistles, high and sharp.
Sidney pays him no mind. The Cafeteria is shuffling around the GIW, with tables and chairs and books and bags appearing and disappearing at random. It’s a maze of objects that they can’t control, and Sidney has used it to create a buffer zone between the GIW and the students.
Everyone’s painted in black and white, and they slip in and out of cover easily. The Agents have no idea where to aim, with the movement of the students and the flittering of Poindexter himself.
Dash, however, jerks at Kwan’s whistle. The rest of the football team reacts as well.
Kwan slaps his hands. “I’m open!”
Dash’s face twists with confusion, but Kwan mimes something with his hands, adding some signal that Danny doesn’t know. Dash, apparently, does and he dives towards Danny’s discarded bag without hesitation. It’s scattered among many others, but the large NASA logo and the slightly insane amount of keychains that dangle off it make it pretty noticeable.
He comes out with the thermos, and another player shouts a warning. Dash rolls and launches the Thermos, before he dodges a GIW agent attempting to get to him.
The cafeteria shifts again, and the agent has to dodge a wave of tables and chairs.
The player who called the warning catches the Thermos easily, and in a smooth motion launches it to Kwan. Kwan passes it to Danny, and before Danny can even begin to uncap it, Paulina darts past.
“Just a second,” she calls, and her grin is sharp. Danny blinks, even as Paulina jumps on a table and starts stomping her feet. It’s obviously got a pattern. The beat is…familiar.
It doesn’t take long for the other cheerleaders to catch on. Star takes one more shot at a GIW agent, and then joins in.
A chant grows—E-mber, E-mber, E-mber.
Danny wishes he could grin. He uncaps the Thermos, and hopes like hell he’s not making a mistake.
Ember forms quickly, her pony tail already burning bright. Her guitar pulses with power.
Her wild grin lasts only seconds, however, as she makes eye contact with him. Danny shifts back from her stare. If she goes after him, he’s doomed. He can’t even begin to take her as he is right now. He’d have to be super fast on getting the Thermos up, but he doubts she’d be caught that easily.
She leans in, and the heat of her has never been more obvious. “Oh,” She says, low and dangerous. “Is that how they want to play?” She looks around, and her grin returns, this one edged with violence. “How about a show, Sidney?”
A laugh, echoing from around. “What’s a show without a stage?”
The cafeteria morphs again, tables and wood appearing, forming into a makeshift stage.
“Looks like we have some uninvited guests,” Ember purrs, the words humming with discord. She’s up on the stage, now, and there’s something about her that makes it hard to drag your eyes away. There’s a presence to her, and the GIW’s aim is suffering in its wake.
There’s some attempt to organize from the GIW, a call to rally that’s quickly drowned out by the building beat that Ember exudes. Her fingers strum across the keyboard, and some agents simply drop their weapons in response. Others are hardier, but it’s clear they weren’t expecting this.
Danny’s classmates, however, aren’t having the same issues. There’s still a steady beat, a call of Ember’s name that rises and falls with the chords she’s playing, but they’re still attacking. There’s not a suit among the agents that isn’t smeared with some color or another, and several of them are now layered. The water gun colors are light, and drip and melt down their suits. The paint ball guns stick, the color arced across their clothes. Someone was liberal with the glitter, and there’s no way they won’t be finding glitter for months after this.
Someone was extremely petty with it too—the glitter itself is a rainbow of colors, of shapes, and sizes. Danny suspects Star might’ve had a hand with all that, her notebooks and phones have always been covered in decorative glitter.
Suddenly, there’s laughter. Danny can’t see from who, but someone lobs a water balloon with gorgeous accuracy. It splats onto the chest of the cleanest GIW agent, only it was barely a water balloon.
Glitter. It implodes all over the agent, spraying up onto his face, over his sunglasses. It’s a shower of the stuff, and it sticks and clings, especially in the places where the agent had already been hit by some paint and water.
“Ghost Investigation Ward, my ass!” Dash shouts, and he’s got another balloon, and the GIW is trying but Dash is their quarterback for a reason, and their frantic attempts to move out of the way is in vain. He launches the water balloon, and just like before, it’s just glitter. “More like Glittered, Incompetent Wimps!”
The declaration is punctuated by a guitar riff.
“There are no wimps allowed at my concerts,” Ember declares, sharp. “And you’re crashing the party. Time for an eviction. Security!”
Someone very clearly starts to say security? but it’s cut off by Ember slamming her guitar, at the same moment the floor begins to move. The GIW is knocked back, hard, and can’t get their balance with the movement of the floor.
One of them is holding something, and it looks like what is clamped over Danny’s face, and he has an instant of panic, but it’s unfounded. There’s a shout, and Kwan and another football player slam past Sidney’s barrier and rip it out of his hands. The agent can’t even start to protest, as the floor rocks beneath him, but remains steady for the students.
The floor rolls like the sea, shoving the agents towards the door. More glitter balloons pelt them, along with ones filled with paint or colored water. A couple more paintball guns go off, and the GIW is simply rolling in colors, in glitter—was that glue?
Ember slams down on her strings, the sound of it vibrating through the floor, and it’s the final push to send the agents right through the suddenly intangible wall.
Then they’re gone.
Danny barely has any time to process before Sam skids up next to him, followed closely by Tucker.
“Sorry,” Sam pants, and she’s acquired a paintball gun from somewhere. “Things got a little chaotic.” She’s staying close, but she’s guarded, watching around them.
Tucker doesn’t even hesitate, starting to poke and prod at the muzzle that’s locked around Danny’s face. He knows his friend well, and there’s a spark of fury in Tucker’s eyes, even as his hands stay gentle.
Things are still loud right now—and not just noise. There’s a lot of energy in the cafeteria right now, adrenaline and emotion. Ember’s music is easing up, but things are still tense until—
“They’re leaving!” someone calls, and several other voices confirm it.
Relief floods through the room. Danny blinks as color rises back into the walls, across the floors and tables, and over the celebrating students. Sidney forms near Ember, and ghosts don’t need air, don’t run out of air, but Sidney hangs around the school enough to keep some living mannerisms. He’s bent over, hands on his knees, miming breathing heavily. If Danny could feel Sidney’s ecto right now, he’s sure it would feel strained and low right now. As it is, Sidney looks a little pale around the edges, looks a little more see through than he should.
Sidney’s not the strongest of ghosts, but he’s not weak either. He’s just not one for large shows, for the big and loud powers. That’s definitely more in Ember’s department—and she has a way to recharge. People may not be chanting her name right now, but she’s still burning a little brighter. He can’t hear what Ember says to Sidney, but it makes the boy laugh and grin. They bump fists, and huh, what an unlikely pair.
“Gonna get this off you,” Sam says, a little frantic, a little worried, a lot stressed. People are starting to stare. To whisper and look.
What will they do, now that they’ve had a moment to think about it? Now that the GIW isn’t here to be the bigger threat?
Can they even begin to fathom the truth they’ve discovered?
Phantom, to them, is a hero. He’s the one they can trust. He’s cool and reliable, someone to be looked up to. He’s mysterious, an unknown, wild and just a little eerie.
Danny is a loser. He’s the weird kid that people either don’t notice or poke fun at. Everyone knows his parents, how strange and embarrassing they are. He’s the poster child for the kid no one wants to be.
What will win? Phantom’s reputation, or Danny’s? What will people care about more? Some of these kids have picked on Danny for years and although things have been better lately, Danny’s not stupid enough to think that means things have changed.
Tucker’s completely focused on removing the muzzle, but he’s talking, low and for Danny alone. Assurances, little bitches about GIW tech, and more.
He feels more than sees Sam stiffen and bristle.
“What do you need?” Paulina, it’s Paulina who stepped up, who breached the no man’s land between where Danny and his friends sit and where the rest of Casper High lingers.
Sam closes her mouth, obviously not expecting that.
Danny can only blink at her.
Tucker barely hesitates. “Tell Mikey I need his mini soldering gun. We need an extension cord, and a slightly larger screwdriver than what I have.”
Sam’s surprised by Tucker’s demands, but barely lets it show.
“That, that is what we need,” Sam reiterates, and Paulina’s already calling for Mikey. Activity starts to flutter around. People start to rearrange tables, and several people start getting food from what’s left in the trays and foodcases. The ‘stage’ that Sidney created slowly pulls apart, the parts and pieces putting themselves back.
Danny’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. The questions. The accusations.
The fear.
“What’s up with that face, punk?” Ember asks, and there’s still a hum around her. Even if he could talk right now, he wouldn’t know how to tell her how glad he is that she's not taking advantage. “Hell, what’s up with all of your faces?”
Sam meets his eyes, and Danny just shrugs. There’s no point in lying.
“Whole school saw him transform,” Sam says, and she can’t help but say it in a hushed tone. “They know.”
Ember stiffens a bit, scans the room. Mikey’s heading over, the cord to his soldering gun dangling from his bag. Someone else passes an extension cord over to Paulina and she starts bringing it over to them, and who the hell knows where that was found.
There’s a lot going on, but nothing…hostile.
Sidney drifts up. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s bullying you,”
“Bully him?” Paulina questions, unwinding a bit of the cord by Tucker. She looks at all them, at the wariness that lives in their faces. Danny can’t help but duck his head a bit when she meets his gaze.
Mikey kneels down, setting the soldering gun by Tucker too, even as Kwan comes over and takes the rest of the extension cord from Paulina. He unwinds it, heading for the nearest outlet.
Paulina seems to be struggling with words. Mikey’s chewing on his lip.
“I don’t think…” Mikey starts, and Paulina startles a bit. “Any of us really know what it means. That you’re Danny. And Phantom. Or how it’s possible. But it…explains a lot.”
“What does that mean?” Sam asks, and it’s harsh. Mikey, to his credit, doesn't flinch.
“Sam,” Tucker warns. Sam eases back a bit, presses her shoulder to Danny’s. He leans back a bit, taking and giving comfort.
“It means,” Paulina says, taking over. “That you aren’t as good at hiding when you’re hurt as you think. It means that while we didn’t know you were Phantom, we did think you were helping him, and getting hurt. We are not blind.”
“We tried to be better,” Dash adds, his hands full of about six different screwdrivers. He shuffles a bit. “Not as much of assholes, ya know?” His eyes slide to Sidney, and something swoops in Danny’s stomach. “We didn’t…we didn’t want to be like that anymore.” Dash’s voice is full of shame.
Sidney hums. “Didn’t know how to apologize.” It’s not a question. And to Sidney’s credit, there’s only a little judgment in his tone.
Paulina and Dash exchange glances, and Danny thinks he’s seen Paulina be more confident when faced with giant dragon ghosts than she is right now.
Kwan steps up, presses his shoulder to Dash’s. “No, we didn’t. And we didn’t try. And now…”
“It’s no secret,” Paulina picks up, and it strikes Danny that the A-Listers are actually friends. At least, they are now. Were they, back when they cast Valerie out for the sin of being poor? Or is it something that formed more genuinely as they realized they wanted to be better? “That we think highly of Phantom. That we’ve supported him while hurting you. We didn’t apologize, when we decided to change. To apologize now…”
“Would like,” Star adds, walking up with a blue hand sized canvas bag. “seem hollow, you know?”
“Cop out,” Tucker declares, instantly, firmly. “That’s a cop out, and you know it. I get what you’re saying, I do, but you’re just going to keep coming up with excuses. It’s not easy, needing to apologize, especially for this, but don’t pretend you’re not allowed.”
Silence, for a moment. Exchanged glances.
“It seems,” Sam says, and she’s picking her words with care, something she rarely bothers with. “That this isn’t a new thing. You decided to change before…before you knew.”
Dash shuffles again. “Yeah,” he says. “We did—a while ago.”
Danny exchanges a look with Sam and Tucker. So they hadn’t imagined the differences in how the A-Listers were acting—not just with them, but with the school at large.
Danny and Mikey hadn’t shared a locker for months.
Tucker and Mikey get the soldering gun set up, and Dash remembers he’s holding half a dozen screwdrivers and hands them over for inspection. There’s some slight tugging on the muzzle, but Danny can’t even drum up a little bit of worry. It’s Tucker. He trusts him with everything.
Paulina seems to make a decision. “You’re right,” she declares, and Star leans in hard on Paulina’s side, but nods vigorously. “I was terrible. I treated you all like you were less. Having confidence in myself does not mean I get to treat everyone else like they are dirt. I’m sorry,”
Danny can barely believe what he’s hearing.
“I’m sorry, too,” Star says. “I got too caught up in being popular, and pretty, and noticed. I don’t have an excuse. I’m just sorry.”
“I was an ass,” Dash says. “I used you like a punching bag, and you’re not the only one. I tormented you for years, just because I could. I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Kwan bumps Dash’s shoulders. “I never stopped any of them. I went along with it, added to it. I may not have started a lot of it, but I never made it better. I’m sorry.”
Danny—Danny doesn’t know what to do with it all. These apologies he never expected to get. Regret he never expected they’d feel.
“Hmmm,” Ember says from behind him. “Not useless after all. Not bad, eh, Sidney?”
“I suppose it’s a decent enough start,” Sidney allows. Which is a lot, coming from him. His tolerance for hollow apologizes is right there with his tolerance for bullies.
“Seems like you got all worried about your secret for no real reason,” Ember teases, leaning down towards him. “One less thing to worry you, ghost boy.”
“It’ll be interesting,” Sidney muses, “to see how this all works. A halfa that doesn’t have to hide.”
Ember giggles and straightens. “Oh, it means we get to play more often!”
Sam groans. “At least we won’t have to make stupid excuses anymore.”
Realization seems to cross the A-Lister’s faces.
“Oh,” Paulina manages. “Everytime you ran out—”
“Or were late,” Kwan says.
“How often do ghosts just, appear?” Dash demands. “And how do you always know?”
“Uhhhh,” Tucker says, even as something loosens just a bit on Danny’s face. His core pulses, finding a small chink, and pushing.
“If you wanna talk about it,” Mikey says quickly, looking between the two groups a little frantically.
“Let me get this off,” Tucker says, smiling a bit at Mikey. He meets Danny’s eyes—at this point…if they want to know, why not? Bring some humanity to Phantom.
Bring some humanity to the ghosts that haunt Amity Park on the regular.
“We’ll talk,” Sam says, and it sounds a little like a dare. Can you handle it?
“I think school is canceled,” Paulina declares, even though literally no one has said anything about it. Danny doubts literally anyone would be willing to leave to go to class at this point. And now that he thinks about it, a bell hasn’t gone off, and no teacher has appeared.
Tucker picks up one of the screwdrivers, presses somewhere, alongside the soldering gun. With a couple twists and a spark, something in the muzzle gives way. Danny’s core bursts with released power, and Danny wastes no time ripping the thing off his face, spitting out whatever that had locked his mouth shut.
In a moment, he’s floating above the floor, his feet morphed into a tail, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.
“Did they make it that bad on purpose?” he grouses. “My taste buds are literally dead right now, how the hell does this work?”
“Here,” Star says, stepping close. She’s holding out the canvas bag. “It’s the bag of spare hygiene supplies I keep for the football players. There’s toothbrushes in there—new, of course!”
“She’s saved our asses more than once,” Kwan says, and he’s trying, they’re trying. And he’s not going to say no to a toothbrush. His mouth tastes foul.
“Thanks,” he says, taking the bag. He floats down a bit, to Tucker’s level and nudges their shoulders together in thanks.
“So like,” Dash says, and then looks like he wishes he hadn’t spoken. Paulina elbows him and he continues, speaking fast. “Can you like, fly when you’re Fenton too?”
Danny finds himself grinning. “Among other things.”
They all try and fail at looking supremely curious.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Kwan says some time later, after they’ve gathered quite the audience and Danny’s transformed back into his human form and back into Phantom a couple times. “So some of the ghosts that attack you are just…playing?”
Ember scoffs. “Do you really think I want to rule the world? How boring.”
“I wasn’t playing the first time,” Sidney admits. “But yes, many of us simply find it fun to play in the living world.”
“Then how do you get all those wounds?” Paulina demands, poking him hard in the shoulder. “If it’s playing, why are you wearing half a pharmacy at times?”
Danny ducks his head. “Uh. Some ghosts aren’t playing. But sometimes even when they are…”
“Sometimes he doesn’t have time to heal, and the wounds stay and heal slower in his human form,” Sam says, ruthless as always.
“What.” Ember says, voice flat and body deathly still.
“It’s not that serious—” Danny tries. He fails.
“It’s supposed to be playing!” Ember screeches.
“And it is!!” Danny retorts. “I just can’t always stay in my ghost form long enough to heal. And sometimes I’m tired and it’s slower! But I have a lot of fun!”
“That—” Ember’s ponytail flairs. “There are other ways we can play!”
“That is—news to me,” Danny admits, pausing. Everyone’s watching with rapt attention.
Ember’s face falls into her hands. “You are so dumb,”
“Bullying,” Sidney says, voice dry as a desert. Ember turns her head enough to glare.
Someone’s giggling. Danny doesn’t know who, but it’s rapidly becoming more than one someone.
“This is what the GIW is scared of?” Someone mutters, which feels both like a compliment and an insult. Danny is scary okay! He’s just not a mindless monster.
Ember’s face changes, like she just had a horrible realization. “No one showed you how to heal faster, either, did they?”
“No!” Danny says, with an explosive gesture. “Flying by the seat of my pants, Ember! No one’s seen a halfa in centuries!”
“I was beating up an endangered species,” Dash whispers in horror, and this time he recognizes that laugh. He looks at Sam incredulously, but it only makes her laugh harder. Paulina’s giggling too, and Star looks like she’s trying desperately not to and losing.
“Yak it up,” Danny says, but he can’t stop the grin either. He never expected this kind of reaction. People have been thanking him for saving them, for always being there, for doing his best. Classmates he’s never really seen before have handed him first aid kits, their numbers and promises to give him places to heal or rest. More people have apologized for treating him like shit, and yeah, a couple of them were just because he’s Phantom, but so, so many more were genuine.
There’s a girl in the class above him that handed him her entire sketchbook—and it was full of moments in his ghost fights. Just brilliantly drawn action shots, gorgeous renditions of various ghosts.
Another kid slid right up next to Tucker and their conversation quickly went beyond Danny’s ability to follow with tech talk. It’s clear Tucker was talking about how his hacking had helped Danny in the past. Sam had a small group of various classmates and she was getting grilled on the wildlife and plants that could be found in the ghost zone. It’s more than he could have ever hoped.
There’s candy and snacks getting passed around, and he’s pretty sure someone emptied the vending machines to supplement what they’re taking out of the kitchen. Mikey looks like he’s seconds from being brave enough to ask about Danny’s powers to Danny himself instead of speculating with some of his friends.
He’s seen a few of the teachers peek in, but no one’s called them to class. The bell to start the day hasn’t even rung. Whispers go through about how the GIW had run into his parents, and before Danny could even begin to panic, someone had shouted about how his dad had punched the lead agent in the face, and his mom had tased several others. He has no idea if they know he’s Phantom, but apparently his parents had gone out this morning with the intent of hunting the GIW rather than ghosts.
It should be alarming that they’re better at that than they are hunting ghosts, but he’s just glad he doesn’t have to fight his parents. He feels so much better now that the muzzle is off his face, but he doesn’t feel back to 100% yet.
He doesn’t think it’ll take long though, with the way that Ember sticks close and lets her excess energy curl around him and Sidney both. With the way that he keeps getting passed snacks and food and various drinks. With the way the laughter and the jokes and the genuine curiosity makes his core flutter with happiness.
He never imagined it’d go like this, that he’d be welcomed as he is.
Sam and Tucker are more relaxed than he’s seen them in a while—with such a huge secret off their shoulders, it’s amazing to see them not have to watch their words so closely. Tucker has an audience now, and he’s regaling them of some of their adventures, of the behind the scenes moments that no one ever knew. Sam is passionately describing the Ghost Zone to some of the art kids, who have pens and colored pencils and markers strewn around them as they feverishly sketch it all out.
That’s Dash over there teaching one of the more timid girls how to throw a punch, while Star shows her the many functions of the Fenton Compact Ghost Defender and Blush. (His parents have an array of colors.) Kwan is locked into Tucker’s story, literally on the edge of his seat. Paulina is bent over one of the art kids, looking over what looks like a rendition of the Far Frozen.
He’s Danny Fenton, half human, half ghost. He’s Phantom, a rare halfa.
Who knew the reveal of both sides of himself would bring together the entire school?
Danny smiles at Mikey when he finally steps over to ask him about Danny’s ice powers. Danny picks up the story about the visit to the Far Frozen, and thrills the art kids by using their sketches as examples.
And as he forms a small-scale ice version of Frostbite, Danny can’t help but think that things might be the best they’ve been since he stumbled into the Portal.