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Danny Fenton died during his accident. Everyone in Casper High knew that. Heck, everyone in Amity Park knew that. Because while withdrawn, quiet and solitary, Danny was still a Fenton, and the town knew of the famous ghost fanatics and their children. So, really, everyone knew Danny Fenton was dead.
Except for Danny Fenton, apparently.
At first everyone gave him a wide berth, figuring he was only going through the motions because he was a new ghost and couldn’t handle moving on. He looked confused by his own ghost powers: frowning down at his hands when they turned intangible and made him drop stuff; scrunching up his nose when he dropped from the ceiling, having slipped through the floor while walking; gasping every time his feet left the ground so he’d hover in the air, out of control. And watching this, everyone believed he would get over the shock, learn to control his new abilities, and then he’d accept his death and say good-bye to the life he knew.
But while he really did gain control, one small step at a time, he never seemed to want to say farewell to the town, his friends, his family. He kept on going to school, to the store, to Nasty Burger. He haunted all of the places he used to go to while being alive, and no one seemed to have the heart to tell him he wasn’t supposed to cling to what his life used to be. Who could be cruel enough as to tear a kid away from all his comforts after his abrupt and premature death?
At the appearance of Invis-o-Bill—later dubbed Danny Phantom—people were less panicked than they would have been otherwise. Because while other invasive ghosts attacked Amity Park and its residents, it was easy to see the ghost boy was doing his best to protect the town. Even the Fentons had to admit it looked like the ghost was trying his best. Because with their own son being a benevolent ghost, they had to accept the fact that ghosts could be benign and unharmful.
Some speculated Phantom was protecting the town because he viewed it as his haunt, his home. Maybe he used to live in the town before he died, so he cared about it and its people. He belonged in the Ghost Zone, they all agreed, but he wasn’t hurting anyone. In fact, he kept people safe. So they had no issue with him staying in their town—as long as he didn’t suddenly turn evil and tried to subjugate Amity Park or something. But they had a hard time believing such a change would occur in their newly-proclaimed hero.
And then the whispers started. Because while Phantom drove away every single malicious ghost who tried to disturb the quiet of Amity Park, he never laid a finger on Danny Fenton. And they all knew he was a ghost as well. Logically, it would make sense for Phantom to try to banish Danny Fenton to the Ghost Zone along with the other ghosts so he wouldn’t remain in his own territory. But while people were holding their breaths for some kind of drama to take place between the two ghosts, nothing ever went down.
Phantom clearly knew about Danny Fenton, because people had heard him mentioning the boy in passing, very briefly. But there was never any animosity between the two. He never went after the ghost of the Fenton boy, nor did he mention his annoyance at his presence. People actually hard a hard time remembering a time when the two had shared a room together.
Seeing as the two ghosts were, apparently, getting along to a certain degree, several people started pondering turning to Phantom with the whole Danny-Fenton-Doesn’t-Know-He’s-Dead extravaganza. They figured that if anyone out there would have the knowledge of how to deal with a ghost reluctant to move on, it would be another ghost—preferably one that had displayed no hostility toward humans or anyone living in Amity Park.
But no one dared approach the ghost boy about this. What if this was a sensitive subject, like mentioning the way a ghost died? What if this was exactly the kind of thing that would make Phantom switch from benevolent to malevolent? What if he finally did attack Danny Fenton after hearing about this? What if he just tore the boy away from his false life here in favor of tossing him in the Ghost Zone, where Danny Fenton would likely be driven mad?
No, Amity Park was saddened to see the reminder of the Fenton boy who used to live among them, wandering about obliviously like he still belonged among them. But they weren’t going to hurt him. He used to be one of their own, and he still was, really. He smiled, laughed, did his homework, took tests and went to the bowling with friends. Maybe he wasn’t alive, but he wasn’t hurting anyone by lingering behind.
They would let him go through his afterlife ignorantly without forcing his eyes open.
Eventually, it became a sort of accepted sight—Danny Fenton going through the motions of his afterlife as if alive, with people around him treating him like nothing about it was strange. If he noticed the sympathetic glances or the unease some people displayed in his vicinity, he didn’t show it. If he noticed the brochures his parents had attributed to the entire town so people would know how to tread around the freshly-deceased boy so as not to spook or anger him, he didn’t show it.
Just like he didn’t show he had any clue regarding the fact that he was dead.
But Danny Fenton did die during his accident. And everyone knew that.
💀☠️💀☠️💀
“This town gets weirder and weirder with every passing day,” said Danny as he strolled down the street with his two friends. “I thought the strangest thing around here would be the ghosts, but the people are weirder.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” said Sam. She was gripping the straps of her backpack tightly, glaring at onlookers until they finally looked away. “Everyone acts like ghost powers are the strangest thing they’d ever seen.”
“So tired of people staring at me all the time,” he agreed.
Tucker pushed his glasses up his nose. “You know, it is kind of funny how everyone seems to gawk at you all the time, but they never made the connection between Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton. I mean, how blind can people be?”
“Let’s take your glasses and find out,” teased Sam.
The boy squawked indignantly and slipped out of her reach when she actually made a grab toward his face. Danny chuckled.
Getting back on track, Sam told Danny, “Well, you can’t really blame them for being curious. Not like you explained what happened to you to that many people. I’m surprised your parents aren’t sitting you down for a whole questioning session, honestly. You’d think the ghost hunters would be on your case the second you start showing ghostly abilities.”
It was weird. Danny had panicked the first time his powers acted out around his family. His fear that his parents would drag him down to the lab, strap him to a lab table and vivisect him lived rent-free in his head from the day of the portal accident. The idea of his own family turning against him because of something he had no control over made him sick to his stomach. He had no idea what he would have done had they actually tried to study him, dissect him, tear him open or shoot him to ectoplasm splotches.
But, to his immense surprise, his parents tiptoed around him like they were deadly worried rather than upset or curious. They tried asking him a few questions, yes, but they never pressured him and never tried to lure him down to their lab. He kept expecting an intensive interrogation or—or something. But they were treading carefully around him, like he was a stray bird they might accidentally spook away for good.
Jazz, too, acted strangely around him. Every time he caught her looking his way, her face was impossibly sad, eyes gleaming like she was on the verge of tears. But then she’d bite her bottom lip upon realizing she was caught staring. He got the impression she had something to tell him, but usually when Jazz wanted Danny to hear her out, she made sure he listened. If he didn’t want to hear her out, she’d still force him to sit there and take whatever psychological nonsense she had to tell him this time.
But she wasn’t making any move whatsoever to whisk him to her bedroom, sit him on her bed and rant to him about whatever it was she wanted to tell him. Sometimes the looks their parents sent her made him wonder if they were the reason Jazz was leaving him alone for a change. But he couldn’t tell for sure, and he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to any of his questions.
He just attributed the odd behavior of his family to the accident. Maybe they just didn’t want to agitate him after his near-death experience. Half-death experience.
Whatever.
He shook the thoughts out of his head and focused on his friends again. They walked through the gate into the school courtyard, filled with the rest of the students. Some of them looked half-asleep—kind of like how Danny felt after fighting Ember half the night—but most were chatting animatedly with each other while standing, walking or sitting on benches. A lot of them turned to look at Danny when he and his friends walked past, but Sam and Tucker fended off their gazes soon enough.
“Feeling like a celebrity yet?” joked Tucker.
With hunched shoulders and head hanging low, Danny muttered, “If this is what it’s like then fame is overrated.”
“You said it, Danny,” Sam agreed jubilantly.
They made it past the A-Listers without drawing more than brief glances, which still freaked Danny out a little. The idea of being able to walk right next to Dash without his shirt being fisted and his body being crammed into a locker was absurd. But ever since the accident, the jocks and popular kids left him alone and didn’t lay a single hand on him. The girls didn’t even criticize his lack of a fashion sense the way they used to do.
He’d feel invisible and ignored, but it didn’t feel like they weren’t still very much aware of his presence nearby. Mostly because, like so many others, they tended to send Danny these conspicuous glances whenever they seemed to think he wasn’t paying attention. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen because Danny’s brain worked overtime around all of his usual tormentors and anything he perceived as dangerous.
He wondered if maybe they decided to lay off him because they were wary of his newfound powers. As far as he was concerned, people believed he could only turn invisible, intangible and fly from time to time. Those were the powers he’d accidentally let slip around others at the beginning, during his adjustment to the changes following his accident. They didn’t know about the ectoplasm rays, the ice powers, the overshadowing, the ghostly wail he could produce. But maybe even just these powers were enough to scare the A-Listers.
The first time Dash let him pass by without trying to pound him, Danny had considered it a slip on his bully’s side and tried to move as quickly as possible out of reach. But over time it became obvious Dash just didn’t want to hurt him anymore. Or… well, maybe he still did, but he wasn’t doing anything about it.
That was one thing he wasn’t going to complain about.
He was going to complain about the way Mr. Lancer raised his head upon Sam, Tucker and his entrance, instantly zeroing in on Danny. All of the teachers at the school seemed to constantly take note of his presence, looks of mild surprise flashing across their faces. He had no clue why everyone found it so bizarre that he was trying to still go to school and get a diploma, but he chose not to ask. Some things were better left unexplored.
Mr. Lancer’s gaze followed him around as Danny followed his friends to the back of the classroom, where he sat down in preparation for their first period. When he shot a look toward the front of the class, the teacher quickly averted his gaze and pretended to be engrossed in his papers. Shooting Sam and Tucker pointed looks, he saw that they, too, have noticed Mr. Lancer’s odd fixation on Danny.
Could it be considered odd if it happened every single day?
When the bell rang and the lesson started, Danny could practically feel the hesitation of Mr. Lancer. He read to them from this new book recently published by an Amity Park resident. It was influenced by the sudden influx of ghosts in the town and talked about what they knew and didn’t know about the intruding specters. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker toward the back and meet Danny’s, like he wanted to make sure the book wasn’t offending him in any way.
“Now, some researchers have come to the conclusion that ghosts are created because a person has unfinished business in the human world,” Mr. Lancer explained a certain paragraph. “And Mr. Jay wonders if maybe helping ghosts come to terms with their passing would help them find some peace of mind and get them to move on from our world.”
Danny thought back to Vortex and snorted. When heads swiveled around to stare at him, he shrank down and tried to curl his shoulders inwardly. He didn’t feel like talking about the destructive ghost that had attacked the town and caused him so much grief right now. They didn’t even know he was Danny Phantom—this would just confuse them more than anything else.
“Do you… disagree, Mr. Fenton?” said Mr. Lancer cautiously.
Oh, crud. Now everyone was looking at him.
“No, I just… I mean, some ghosts aren’t really human, are they?” he blabbered awkwardly, shifting from side to side in his chair. “We had a weather ghost and a plant ghost. I don’t think they used to be people who died. They’re just… conscious beings from a different realm, right? So they probably don’t have any ‘unfinished business’ in our world.”
Lowering his book a little, Mr. Lancer said, “So you’d say ghosts are just the way they are because it’s in their nature?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” challenged Sam.
“He means that ghosts have been attacking Amity Park for almost two years now. They’re obviously mean-spirited and evil,” said Star.
“Except for my Phantom,” sighed Paulina lovingly. “He would never be evil.”
Danny side-eyed her along with Tucker. Sam shot them both reproachful looks before turning to face the girls furiously.
“Well, I think all we see are bad ghosts because they’re the only ones who have a reason to come over here. Maybe the benevolent ghosts remain in the Ghost Zone, where they spend their afterlives in peace, away from the drama and humans. We don’t know everything. We only see a portion of what’s really going.”
Star huffed. “For all we know, these are all the ghosts who live in the Ghost Zone.”
Eyes widening excitedly, Dale asked Danny, “Have you ever been to the Ghost Zone, Fenton?”
Nathan inhaled sharply and sank down in his seat. Sarah gaped at Dale in disbelief before turning to give Danny a very anxious smile that looked somewhat apologetic. The guy beside Dale elbowed him sharply in the ribs, earning an indignant squawk from his friend. Tiffanie mumbled an incredulous, “Oh, my gosh, Dale. I can’t believe you just asked that.”
Confused by the odd reactions to the simple question, Danny shrugged and said, “I—er—I got a peek at it. I mean, I didn’t see much. But a lot of ghosts stay there from what I could see. And they’re mostly fine with remaining just where they are.”
Kwan’s lips parted a little before he started saying, “Is it inviting? Don’t you ever consider staying ther—ouch!”
Dash glared at him, having punched his friend’s shoulder. He glared at Kwan meaningfully—along with just about everyone else—then schooled his expression and shrugged nonchalantly. No one reacted to it like the punch was odd. Even Mr. Lancer stayed quiet about it rather than admonishing Dash for his violence. In fact, the only ones who seemed to be confused were Sam, Tucker and Danny himself.
“Maybe we should move on,” suggested Mr. Lancer. “We shouldn’t linger on sensitive, um, upsetting matters.”
And he kept on reading the book.
“What was that?” Danny whispered, leaning over the edge of his table toward his friends.
“No clue, dude,” Tucker said, blinking all around from behind his glasses. “I think they want to relocate to the Ghost Zone maybe?”
Sam just pulled her shoulders helplessly.
💀☠️💀☠️💀
Jazz decided out of the blue that she wanted to go to a movie with Danny one afternoon. When he said he had a test to study for and a load of homework to complete, she dismissed it with uncharacteristic ease. Their mom, who overheard his weak objection, supported Jazz and said that spending some time together was more important than school work. Which was, again, weird. But Danny found himself being dragged out the front door anyway.
All the way to the theater, Jazz chatted endlessly about the most mundane, thoughtless stuff. Danny tried to find a point in what she was saying, but she moved from topic to topic without lingering on anything for too long. Her words sometimes jumbled together from how obviously-agitated she was. But she either didn’t notice or didn’t care—she just determinedly talked and talked and talked his ear off.
At some point he noticed her hand repeatedly itching toward him, like she wanted to grab his arm and pull him closer. But she always caught herself before she could make contact, which he appreciated. Maybe she was worried he might turn intangible and pull away from her. Which he would have likely done if his sister tried to hug him—gross. He guessed his ghost powers freaked her out more than she was willing to admit.
After picking a movie, Jazz told the cashier, “Two tickets, please.”
The young man peered at Danny and her through the glass, clearly recognizing them. Danny was about to dismiss it entirely, but then he realized the guy’s eyes were lingering on him—like he knew about his situation, too. It made Danny wince and bow his head while scuffling his shoes.
“Erm, that won’t be necessary,” the cashier said. “You can pay for one ticket.”
“But we’re two,” argued Danny, because Jazz looked like she was going to accept this strange statement. “And we need two tickets to watch the movie. Dude, that’s your job.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean, I was just—because you’re—”
Jazz interrupted the guy’s awkward stutters, saying, “You’re very thoughtful, but I’ll—we’ll take two tickets.”
The cashier didn’t argue any further. He simply accepted the movie Jazz offered him and gave her two tickets, one of which she handed to Danny. She went to go over to buy the two of them popcorn as well, but Danny intercepted her and insisted he’d pay for that. It was only fair after she bought the tickets. And while Jazz looked rather unhappy about it, she reluctantly stepped down and let him approach the counter.
“Hello,” a bored girl said, typing a message on her cellphone. “What can I get you?”
“A large popcorn, one strawberry soda and one coke.”
“Sure, that’ll be—oh.” She looked up, saw his face and paled. “W-wait, aren’t you that dead Fenton kid?”
Danny’s eyebrows lowered. “I’m not dead.”
“Right! Right, of course not! I’m sorry, that was so—I’m so sorry. Here.” She moved around erratically, brining over everything he’d asked for. Her movements were sharp and frantic, her gaze never lingering on him. “There you go. Free of charge. I’m so sorry. Again.”
His mild annoyance evaporated, replaced with incredulity. He had no idea what was going on with the people working in this place, but they all acted like they were possessed by ghosts who wanted to give stuff for free. It was kind of creepy and disturbing. But when he looked at the eyes of the cashier, they weren’t glowing or any type of unnatural color—just… brown. So she probably wasn’t possessed by a ghost. Plus, his ghost sense would have alerted him to the danger.
So what in the world was going on with everyone?
“I can pay, it’s no big deal,” protested Danny.
After the haunted garage sale, he felt like business had to be done properly. The sellers couldn’t be sloppy in what they were giving, and the buyers couldn’t slacken off on payment or what they were taking for granted. No, he needed to pay for stuff, otherwise… well, he would just be suspicious of the food and wouldn’t be able to eat anything, too anxious something might go wrong.
“Seriously, no,” the girl insisted. “I was so brash and rude. No, just take it all and go. Just don’t tell my manager I said anything. And, like, keep calm and stuff.”
“Keep calm?”
Shoving the sodas into his hands, the cashier said, “I didn’t mean to offend you, okay? It was a slip of the tongue. So just take your food, enjoy your movie and forget everything I said. Enjoy your life, right? Next!”
He pressed one of the sodas between his arm and ribs, freeing his second hand so he could grab the popcorn. Mind reeling, he moved away from the counter without paying and stumbled toward Jazz. His sister looked somewhat annoyed when he recalled the odd behavior of the girl, and for some reason she seemed to appreciate the free food they got from it. When Danny tried to argue, she just led him into the movie theater with a fixed grin on her face that made him nervous.
He ended up pondering the strange behavior of the people around him in the recent couple of years instead of watching the movie. Jazz leaned toward him and whispered her thoughts about the psych of the movie characters, like she tended to do quite often during movie nights. But now she also got choked-up from time to time, like her observations were causing her grief Danny couldn’t explain for the life of him.
He had to figure out what was going on with his town before everyone drove him nuts.
💀☠️💀☠️💀
Danny decided it was too late for his sanity when he went to Amity Park’s graveyard. Well, saying he went there was inaccurate. What really happened was that he fought Skulker, moving from one spot to the next in their game of tug until they ended up at the town’s cemetery. The headstones all looked ridiculously ominous at this twilight time, the names carved on them either faded with time or bold and demanding attention.
Rubbing his head from the rough landing, Danny grimaced and grumbled about Skulker’s armor. It felt like the other ghost was cheating by showing up to fights with a ridiculously weaponized suit. All Danny had were his powers and wits. Some would say he only had his powers. Yet Skulker found no faults in his approach of trying to capture and kill him (even more) with all of these top-notch gadgets. If there was a referee for their fights, Danny was certain they would have claimed Skulker was cheating, too.
Alas, he had to handle an unfair fight. Again.
Not too far away, Skulker sat up, clearly dazed. His armor’s arm was dislocated from the landing, and a few of his weapons slipped out and spread all around him in disarray. He was too busy shaking his head to pay that any mind, though. For a moment Danny’s breath caught at the sight of the hunter going to blast the headstone that he’d crashed into. But then Skulker seemed to realize it was a grave and he lowered his weapon.
Ghosts didn’t have many ethics and rules, but death was something they could all respect. And so destroying graves was out of the question for them. It was unimaginable and done only by the worst of the worst. Skulker was obviously not one of them. The Ghost King, Pariah Dark, maybe.
“Let’s move this chase to a different location, ghost child,” suggested Skulker. “We shouldn’t be here.”
Danny’s first urge was to snort and comment about how cemeteries were the perfect place for ghosts to go to. But he could feel it in his gut—this uneasy, squeamish feeling. Like his entire body was convulsing from being surrounded by all of these dead names. People he’d never met or never interacted with. Somewhere in here were his grandparents too. He hadn’t really visited the cemetery since he’d last been fully alive, and it was strange how guttural his rejection of this place was.
Still, he had more sense than that. So he pulled out his Fenton Thermos, aimed it at Skulker and sucked him into the confined space. The ghost cursed him all the way inside, clearly insulted at the betrayal—even though he’d literally pulled Danny away from his video game with Tucker and Sam right before he could level up. So, really, it was completely his fault Danny was cranky and moody about this fight.
“Finally,” he grunted, strapping the thermos over his back. “Now to annihilate Tucker and… probably get pounded by Sam.”
He turned around, bent his knees and prepared to take off. But then his gaze caught on something familiar that made him pause. Frowning, he stepped closer to one of the newer-looking graves. The headstone’s letters were as clear as day, and there were a few wilted flowers next to it. The remains of a candle rested on its other side, having been lit and burned through entirely.
The headstone read:
IN LOVING MEMORY OF
DANIEL FENTON
February 12, 1990
May 3, 2004
His heart stopped. No, literally—it stopped. No metaphors here. Danny just found himself standing there, gaping at his own freaking headstone with a still chest. His body felt colder than ever before, no blood streaming through his veins, pulsing up and down his limbs. He felt bile rise in his throat and had to fight back the urge to throw up right then and there.
Why the heck was there was a headstone with his name and his birthday date at the Amity Park cemetery? He was clearly not dead. People saw him walking about every day. He was very much alive—albeit also half dead. They knew he had ghost powers, but nobody actually believed he was dead. His parents, Jazz, his friends—everyone knew he was just experiencing some side effects from the portal accident.
The portal accident.
Danny’s eyes trailed over to the second date carved into the stone—his supposed date of death. He didn’t need more than a moment to realize it was the date of the accident. Two years ago, in May. The portal had opened on top of him and transformed him into what he was today. He never imagined seeing it on his headstone, claiming to be the day he had died.
Feeling slightly panicked, he willed his transformation to wash over him. Relief flooded him when the rings of light ran up and down his body, revealing his human appearance once again. He looked down at his palms, turning them over and following the red, blue and green lines that transferred his blood. He pressed one hand over his chest and sighed at the feeling of his beating heart banging madly against his ribcage.
He was alive. He was alive. Everything was okay. This headstone was just… lying.
Maybe it was a prank. A really nasty prank. Maybe the A-Listers have been giving him an easy time lately because they’ve been working on this all along, to freak him out. Or one of the ghosts decided to give him a heart attack by making him believe someone had created his premature grave already. This couldn’t be real, after all. Even if there were flowers and a candle and the stone looked new, but not like it hadn’t been standing there around two years.
Bending down before it, Danny hesitantly trailed the letters of his name, as if to make sure it felt genuine. It did.
A part of him had to wonder if maybe this was actually true. After all, he wasn’t the same person he used to be back then. The accident had changed him. Physically, yes, but also in every other conceivable way. He no longer viewed ghosts the same way, because he’d proven his parents’ prejudice wrong by experiencing it all in person. He was less prone to moving out of the way, instead standing his ground when it mattered. Sam told him he got snarkier than before along with adopting his ‘superhero’ persona of Danny Phantom.
So maybe Danny Fenton really did die—in a very… morbid kind of way. The portal had killed the old version of himself, leaving behind a combination of Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom that felt more complete than the original one. He was perpetually tired and out of sorts, constantly on edge and always felt like he was being watched. But he also felt like he was doing what he needed to do, what he wanted and wished to accomplish.
Dropping his hand, Danny licked his lips nervously and sent a wary glimpse at the ground under the grave. He had to wonder what in the world was buried under there. It would be easy to check, seeing as he could just go intangible, and didn’t really require air to survive. But the idea was too disturbing, too wrong. That guttural feeling let him know he shouldn’t check. Some things were meant to remain a mystery.
And so, despite still being freaked out and utterly befuddled, Danny got up. He went ghost again, sent the grave one final look over his shoulder, and took off before he could spiral out of control about this entire development. Maybe he could just go home and ask his parents why the heck he had a grave claiming he’d already died.
💀☠️💀☠️💀
It was Vlad’s fault.
Because of course it was Vlad’s fault. It was always Vlad’s fault. Danny was so underwhelmed by this, it was almost funny.
They had another dispute—blah, blah, blah—which led to another fight—what else is new?—that, this time, ended up at Casper High. The students were all led to the gym, where the teachers gathered them, making sure everyone was accounted for. And in all the chaos, Danny somehow managed to slip away undetected in order to fight his archenemy. Again. Because Vlad just couldn’t do anything original anymore.
At least this time no clones were involved. Danny was about to lose it about all of the failed trials and errors the creepy man was going through just to try and create… another version of him, really. Honestly, a lot of his functional braincells were stuck on trying stubbornly to ignore the fact that there was a girl version of him somewhere in the world, with his name, his looks, his powers… and a little less stability. Seriously, this wasn’t the kind of stuff Danny had expected his ghost powers would lead him to.
But he should have known better than to simply go ahead and attack Vlad outright. The fruit loop was crazy and insane, but he was powerful—far more powerful than Danny—and always managed to win their battles unless Danny managed to outsmart him. Or when he used his ghostly wail maybe, but Danny couldn’t use such a destructive power when there were so many humans in the area. They might get hurt, and he couldn’t risk that.
So was it really a surprise that he ended up crashing through the ceiling of the gym? Danny’s foggy mind remembered the pain and the oomph that had passed through his lips upon contact with the gym floor. People gasped all around him, and Vlad’s laughter echoed from above. But then… the world turned black and everything sort of just faded to nothing.
It took him a moment to realize he was awake again. He had to force his eyelids apart so he could blink up at the trashed gym ceiling. He felt disoriented and confused for a few moments, trying to recall what had happened to lead up to this moment. It was hard to think when his very bones seemed to ache with every breath he took. He tried to focus on his body parts and make sure nothing was broken or in need of immediate treatment, but nothing was that bad.
Once the hazy memories of his fight against Vlad returned to him, Danny gasped and bolted upright. Where was he? What happened after he passed out? Was everyone safe or were they all in danger because Danny had forgotten the simple fact that he stood no real chance against the older halfa?
“Whoa, hey,” Sam’s familiar voice said, her hand pressing on his chest and trying to shove him back to the floor. “Relax, Danny. You’re safe.”
“Vlad—”
“He’s gone, dude.” Tucker spoke this time, from Danny’s other side. “Left the moment you… um…”
Danny brought a hand up to rub the side of his pounding head. He finally looked around at his friends who were flanking him as usual. They were exchanging this look he couldn’t decipher, although it seemed to be edged with worry and hesitance.
Murmurs from further away drew his attention to the fact that there were far more people around than only Sam and Tucker. Danny blinked the fog out of his brain and tensed upon realizing almost the entire school was there—in the gym, where he’d landed. They were standing in a circle all around him, but giving him some space. Teachers and students alike were gaping at him from all around—which wasn’t all that new to him, but this felt more intense than the usual stares he’d gotten used to lately.
At the realization that he had an audience, Danny gulped and zeroed in on the black strands of hair visible near the edge of his field of vision. His stomach plummeted as he looked down at himself and found his day-to-day clothes rather than his black hazmat suit, with the white accepts and the symbol Sam had added to it for his benefit. His body felt warm, his heart pounding louder than his core was humming.
He was Danny Fenton right now, not Phantom. And considering he’d been Danny Phantom earlier, before fainting like a wimp, it wasn’t hard to deduce he must have transformed in front of everyone once he lost consciousness. So… they all knew. Which explained all of the shocked expressions on their faces.
“Oh, crud,” he mumbled.
Tucker patted his back consolingly and said, “Yeah, everyone knows you’re Danny Phantom now. Sorry. On the bright side, though, I think Vlad wasn’t expecting that, so he ran away.”
“Probably scared you’ll rat him out now that your secret is out,” scoffed Sam, now crossing her arms rather than trying to force Danny to lie back down. “How are you feeling?”
“Er…” he replied eloquently.
From all around, he could hear people murmuring:
“Fenton is Phantom?”
“What in the world is going on? I can’t follow anything anymore. It’s too much!”
“What a load of—”
“Mr. Thomas!”
“Does that mean Fenton knows he’s actually dead?”
Danny’s eyebrows scrunched together at that last comment. His eyes darted around, trying to spot the one who’d said it, but he couldn’t tell which of the curious students it was. There were far too many of them, most of which he didn’t even know. The words made the image of his own grave flash through his mind, but he pushed it away. He had more urgent matters to deal with. Like his aching bones.
Pushing to his feet, he grimaced and grunted, “I hate this guy.”
“That was a pretty nasty landing,” admitted Sam. She eyed him warily. “You sure you’re okay? Maybe you got a concussion.”
“I don’t feel more dead than usual, so I’ll take that as a win.” He rubbed the back of his neck, where it must have banged against the floor, and flinched at how tender it felt. Still, there was no ectoplasm or blood, which he decided was a good sign. “I’ll be fine. I think. The secret being out feels like more of a problem right now.”
“To be fair, it’s not that different than you just having ghost powers,” commented Tucker.
Maybe Danny did have a concussion or something, though. The moment he fully focused on the crowd of people in the gym, their chatter seemed to grow louder and it overwhelmed his senses entirely and made him curl his shoulders inwardly while leaning against his friends for support. He couldn’t make out any distinct voices, couldn’t separate sentences from each other. Everything just blended together until he felt dizzy and cornered.
So he was grateful when the teachers—egged on by Sam and Tucker—herded the students out of the gym. The more students walked out reluctantly, the more easily Danny could breathe. It took him a few moments to realize he was invisible and gripping Sam and Tucker’s arms tightly, as if to let them know he was still there.
He willed his visibility back once the only ones left in the gym with him were his friends and Mr. Lancer. The teacher blinked twice hard, like he was having a hard time computing everything he was seeing even after already knowing Danny had some ghost powers at his disposal.
“Are you feeling all right, Mr. Fenton?” the man asked at last. “We can call an ambulance… I think. I’m not quite sure how to treat a… someone like you.”
“Join the club, man,” grumbled Tucker.
“I’m fine,” said Danny. “And you can say it, you know. I’m a ghost. It’s not taboo or anything, and it’s not the end of the world.”
Mr. Lancer looked like he was being forced to swallow a lemon. “Yes. Yes, a… a ghost. That’s just it. So… you knew? All this time?”
That was a strange question.
Sam raised an eyebrow at their teacher. “How can anyone miss the fact that they’re a ghost? And why does it sound like you’ve known all along?”
“I—well—everyone knows.” Mr. Lancer looked between the trio, pinching his wispy beard. “And we all thought Mr. Fenton was the one not in the know. And no one would bring it up, oof course, because it sounds like a rather… tactless subject to bring up in front of someone who won’t confront reality and the way things are.”
“What are you talking about?” said Tucker, utterly flabbergasted.
Sam looked about the same.
The grave. Danny paled as an idea formed in his head, slowly making more and more sense to him when combined with everything that had happened these last couple of years. He let go of his friends, instead wiping his palms on his pants.
“Mr. Lancer,” said Danny in trepidation. “Does everyone in Amity Park believe I died?”
Sam and Tucker bulked at once, looking shocked and incredulous. Mr. Lancer, on the other hand, just looked back at Danny with a furrow between his brows, like he couldn’t make sense of this question.
“I—yes,” the teacher said. “You have ghost powers, Mr. Fenton. It was the only sound conclusion to come to. Admittedly, we didn’t know you were also Phantom, but in retrospect I can see it was a wordplay on your own name, as well as the similar features—colors notwithstanding, of course.”
“You all thought Danny was dead?” spluttered Sam. “And no one thought it would be best to actually ask him instead of just assuming that?”
Danny ran a hand down his face. “That explains my grave. Oh, gosh… Mom, Dad and Jazz believe that too, don’t they? That’s why they’ve been acting so weird around me this entire time! This explains so much!”
“You have a grave?” said Tucker. His face had a green tint to it. “That’s some messed up situation we’re in, Danny.”
“I found it by accident the other day. I thought it was a prank or something. I don’t know…”
Mr. Lancer stared at them all incomprehensibly. “Wait, you’re talking as if… you’re not dead? Despite very clearly being a ghost.”
“I’m a half ghost,” Danny stressed. He gestured down at his very human body and added, “Half human, half ghost. It’s called a halfa. That accident didn’t kill me all the way through, and this is the result. But you’re telling me that all this time people just assumed I was gone and they were—what was even the plan here? Was anyone going to tell me you guys thought I was a ghost masquerading as a human? Or were you planning on letting this continue forever?”
“Well, we assumed you weren’t ready to cross over—that is not important,” decided Mr. Lancer. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered, “This is a whole lot to take in. But I will say it’s good to hear my student didn’t die after all. Well, not completely, I guess. You’re not fully alive either, are you?”
Danny smiled faintly and shrugged.
“The Picture of Dorian Gray, this is a lot to take in.” Mr. Lancer massaged the sides of his head, then straightened up a little and with more purpose said, “Okay, one step at a time, people! We need to call your parents and inform them that you are not, in fact, dead.”
“Ever thought you’d have to call your parents to tell them you’re alive?” snorted Sam.
“Never thought I’d have to make something like that clear to anyone,” he shot back.
“Yet here we are,” said Tucker as they followed Mr. Lancer out of the gym and toward his office. “Being your friend is proving to be more interesting than I’d imagined, Danny.”
With a huff, Danny said, “Well, I’d think so, seeing as I’m apparently a living corpse according to just about everyone in town. Can’t wait to see how they react to hearing they’d been mourning me prematurely.”
“And,” added Sam unhelpfully, “don’t forget they’ll hear about you being Phantom by the end of the day. News spread fast.”
He hunched his shoulders and groaned. “Fame really is overrated.”