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Don’t ask about his death.
It was the one unspoken rule. Do not try to talk about his death. Jazz had asked at one point, asked what happened, how he became the half-ghost. Didn’t that mean he was half-dead? It had been one of her few moments of thoughtlessness - she may consider herself an adult but she was capable of childishness too, especially when it came to being curious. Danny’s eyes had gone cold and his body tensed, before he quickly excused himself to the bathroom. They hadn’t seen him again the rest of that school day (save for a tussle with the Box Ghost, which was quickly resolved). Sam and Tucker had given her the gist - a power surge when Danny had walked into the ‘failed’ portal.
They hadn’t felt it necessary to give any other details. Jazz would never be able to comprehend the sound of her brother’s screaming - the fear and indescribable pain they had heard. The certainty that they had just watched their best friend die, in excruciating agony. The way they thought they’d caused him to die - Sam via actively encouraging him to go into the portal, Tucker via his failure to stop him. None of them had been too sure what to do when a glowing body had stumbled it’s way out of the portal, looking so much like Danny, but the wrong hair, the wrong eyes, the wrong skin color, the wrongness of the echo of his voice. Especially since that wasn’t the only thing that came out.
None of them had ever talked about it. They realized ghosts were escaping into their world from the Fenton Portal now and that the elder Fentons were useless to stop it. All they knew was Danny was now an impossibility of an impossibility - a ghost, and a human. Their minds had chosen to refuse to acknowledge what that meant, what they had seen that day - Danny had died, in some way, at fourteen.
Some idle curiosities had been answered simply by being around him in his Phantom form and contrasting that to his human form. His ghostly skin was ice, even before the ice powers manifested, he was still far below what would be considered hypothermic in his human form. His heart didn’t beat in one but did in the other. He breathed out of habit, though didn’t suffocate without it, in either form. No one commented on it, especially not to Danny. He had taken his Accident in stride, as far as they knew.
He would never tell them that everytime he transformed, he felt his heart stop and not restart until he was Fenton again, the sheer innate, human terror of feeling your heart stop. The nightmares he faced every night, unless he had fought to exhaustion - nightmares of his dark self, nightmares of what else came out of the portal, nightmares of people he loved dying because he was unable to protect them - wasn’t strong or quick or smart enough to save them. The fear of his parents, the fear of Valerie, the fear of the Guys in White. This was his life - afterlife? - now, and there was no point in scaring them or causing them to worry about him. He was still Danny. He still loved space and the stars, could point out nearly every constellation in the night sky. He still hated sports, still loved Nasty Burger. Still loved Humpty Dumpty but hated the medical dramas his mom would play.
Two years had passed since the Accident. His Phantom form continued to mirror his Fenton form. As the human side had grown, as had the ghost. He was taller now - he’d never be as tall as his father but no one could call him a runt. His human form continued to pull from his ghost side as well - his stamina was higher, he was stronger, he was quicker.
Still, only a few knew who he was. Sam. Tucker. Jazz. His team, through thick and thin. Who helped him bandage wounds that had been severe enough to carry over to his human side, who’d had their hands painted in the Christmas mockery his blood/ectoplasm mix created when they would sew close a wound. The injuries, in one of the mercies in life, were never as bad when human, the ghost side damage was always worse, but it was common for him to need stitches if he went through a wall or a window as Phantom, or if Skulker got a good enough slice in. They had all grown numb to the sight of his blood, and his ectoplasm. He always survived, so it was always fine.
Well. He mostly survived, didn’t he?
Even if the shallow grave on the edge of the park suggested otherwise. The same grave that was currently sending pings to his core because something is wrong . It was an uncomfortable pressure that pierced into him, as he tried to focus on the English test in front of him. He wasn’t sure how he knew what it was, how he knew it was his grave. But he did and by the Ancients he needed to get there now , he could feel hands touching his buried body. Danny barely even remembers asking to go to the bathroom, not waiting for a response as he fled the room, test half-finished on his desk.
He ducked into a closet, transformed, and then flew faster than he’d ever flown before in his desperation to get where his body was being touched why is his body being touched.
Horror was what found him when he arrived. Police surrounded a shallow hole, a slightly charred, too small body in front of them, someone with an ME jacket reaching in and touching it.
“Stop!” Danny heard himself yell, landing beside the grave, police jumping back at his sudden appearance. He could feel himself trembling as he stared at the body, his body , at his feet, felt himself collapse to his knees.
Confused silence permeated the air, only broken by the sounds of nature and the whirring of the police cars further back.
“Phantom?” One of the officers finally spoke up, reaching for an ecto-gun. It was Amity Park, after all, the police here needed both human and ghost offenses.
“Stop, please.” Danny said, sobbing. What a sight he must be. The great hero, Phantom, collapsed beside a shallow grave.
“Phantom. Step away from the body.” Another officer said, stepping closer to him, hands held up away from his gun to show he meant peace. At least the town’s acceptance of him had improved since he first began fighting, otherwise he’d probably have been immediately shot.
“I can’t. Get… get away!” He said, finally ripping his gaze from the corpse beneath him and instead looking at the police in front of him.
“Phantom,” the second officer said soothingly, taking another step towards the crying ghost. “My name is Jones, I’m the captain. Why do you want us to leave?”
“Just… just do it!” Danny responded, fighting down the sudden, very strong desire to blast Jones to hell with an ecto ray.
“We can’t do that. That’s a child in an unmarked grave. We have to investigate - see who it was and what happened, who hurt them. Do you understand?” Jones said, getting closer to the grave until he was at the very edge, lowering himself to his knees with his hands still held up. The other officers seemed to be letting Jones take point, for some reason, but Danny didn’t miss them reaching for their ecto guns in the background.
“Will… will you go away if I answer that?” Danny sniffled, desperate for them to just leave his grave alone .
A murmur passed around the cops, Jones’s eyes widening in surprise. “Do… do you know who this is?”
Danny gave a wordless nod, wrapping his arms around himself, desperately clenching down the rising urge to blast everyone away because he did not want to talk about his death. His Obsession to protect was the only thing overriding the need to get them away.
“I can’t promise we’ll go away, I’m sorry. We can’t leave the body here, regardless. But you need to talk to us, Phantom. Did you hurt them? A casualty when you first came here?”
This was just so wrong , Danny could feel it deep in his core. This was the one rule no one had ever crossed, the one thing he did not ever discuss. But if he’d felt their hands, what else would he feel? Would he feel them autopsying his corpse? The feeling of their hands had already nearly driven him mad, driven him to want to hurt instead of protect. He wasn’t sure if even his Obsession would stop the madness something like that would bring, though. He dug his hands into his arms, desperately trying to ground himself to reality as he gripped hard enough to bruise himself.
Danny opened his mouth but the words just refused to come, choking him on his confession. The sentence just would not come out. “Accident,” was all he managed to ground out.
“You accidentally killed them?” Jones asked, even his hand going for his blaster as the officers behind him fully withdrew theirs, aiming at Danny.
“Left glove. Take it off.” Danny managed. He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t say his full confession. But he was able to dance around it, around the screaming his core was doing at him, filling his head with a cacophony of noise that all said to not say how he died. It was innate to a ghost, it was deeply personal, even beyond Obsessions or former life memories.
“Why?” Jones asked, at least moving his hand back away from his weapon, though the ones behind him did not lower theirs.
Danny tried to say it, tried to say ‘it’s mine,’ but he just started choking again, moving a hand to hold his throat as he desperately tried to take a breath he didn’t need. “ Please ,” was all he ended up being able to get to come out.
Jones nodded. “Okay. I have to grab some gloves, okay? They’re in that black case beside you. Can I come closer so I can get them?”
All he could do was force his head up and down. Taking that as an affirmative, Jones rose back to his feet, moving towards the case a few feet from Danny, keeping his hands up in the air, away from his weapon. The next few moments passed in tense silence, Jones getting the gloves he needed then returning back to the left side of the grave, keeping his movements slow and steady even as his fellow officers kept their aim steadily on the crying ghost.
Jones knelt down at the edge of the hole, reaching for and pulling the left glove off his corpse. Danny hissed as he felt phantom touches brush against his own left hand.
“Okay, Phantom. The glove is off. What now?”
Danny was starting to get tired of the too soft voice the officer was using, though he understood why. He was, after all, acting like a cornered animal. An extremely powerful cornered animal, at that, a fact he had to keep reminding himself everytime the wrongness tried to drown him. “Palm.”
Jones reached back into the grave, turning over the hand to reveal a slightly burnt palm. Danny didn’t know how he knew it’d be there, he’d never seen his body beneath the suit when the three of them had buried him. The scar of the button, the lightning bolts shooting out of it. Danny felt nauseous, an uncommon feeling in his ghost form. The officer’s face returned to him, confusion on his face.
Danny forced himself to bring his hands in front of him, forced his urge to fire back down. But Jones seemed to be waiting on him, giving him time to explain, even as Danny’s hands shook. Clenching his teeth, Danny managed to jerk his own left glove off, holding his palm towards the officer. Understanding blossomed across his face as he saw the same scar.
“Phantom. Is this you? Did you die in an accident?”
Another sob escaped Danny before the tears began flowing of their own accord, leaving green streaks down his face.
Apparently, they all took that as affirmation, looks of pity and shock crossing nearly everyone’s face, some even lowering their weapon.
“We have to investigate this, Phantom.” Jones said, a sad look on his face.
“Why?” Danny pleaded.
“I… I understand this may be unpleasant. But someone buried your body, someone is covering up your death. Even if you came back as a ghost, hiding the death of a minor is still a punishable offense.”
This was all becoming just too much, every nerve ending he had screaming at him to just blow the entire area sky high and flee with his body, these humans’ lives be damned. Danny wasn’t sure if it was his human half that was managing to temper the desire or still just his need to protect. Both, maybe.
“Me,” Danny forced out through gritted teeth.
“I know we’ve already established this is you, but we still have to find who buried your body.”
“Both. Me.”
“I’m sorry but we ha… wait, are you saying you buried your own body?”
Nod. The looks of pity increased, anyone who still had their weapon prepared to shoot him with also lowering them.
“Phantom, you’re still a child. We can’t just let that go, don’t you need to let your parents know?”
Danny shook his head, the feeling of suffocation crawling back into his throat. But the next words were easier, didn’t set his cold core on fire.
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you. Only you.” Danny said, looking beyond the captain’s shoulder to the dozen or so people behind him. This was his closest guarded secret, his very identity, but even it seemed minuscule compared to the idea of his body being stolen and poked and prodded.
“I need at least one other person to hear it, okay? For both of our safety.”
“Fine.” Danny supposed he should be grateful he was getting this much.
Jones nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Okay.” He turned around, addressing the crowd behind him. “Michaels, come here! The rest of you, fall back!”
“Out of sight.” Danny added, unsure how much he’d have to admit and unwilling to let more people than necessary know, though doubting they’d actually do so.
Conflicted emotions passed over Jones’s face, but eventually he nodded, to Danny’s surprise. “Back to the cars and around the block!” The captain called to the retreating crowd.
“But Captain, it’s not safe!” Another officer called.
“It’s Phantom. He won’t hurt anyone.” Jones turned back to the (extremely agitated, vastly overpowered) teen. “Right, Phantom?”
“You… trust me?” Danny asked, shock coloring his voice. The searing pain in his core was finally settling. No one was touching his body. No one was asking about his death.
“You’ve never actually hurt anyone. You’re a good kid.” Jones said as a cop knelt beside him. “Phantom, this is Michaels.” He said, gesturing to the man who had joined the conversation.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Phantom, even if it is in unpleasant circumstances.” Michaels greeted. Danny glanced at the ecto blaster on Michaels’s hip, only to find the holster empty. Catching his look, Michaels spoke again. “I left it a few feet away, see?” He gestured to a spot behind him and Danny saw the unmistakable silver and green glint.
“I… you actually trust me? And will keep this between us?” Danny asked, tears coming down his face. He was so used to being hated, even if none of the general populace had shown him any malice in a long time.
Michaels just nodded, settling his face into a smile.
“So, can you tell us why you don’t want us investigating?” Jones asked.
Despite his earlier conviction, he struggled to admit it. Now that the searing agony had long since settled, merely a dull ache of an exhausted core, telling the truth seemed terrifying.
“Haven’t I earned my peace?” Danny responded.
“What?” Jones and Michael said concurrently.
“Haven’t I earned it? Everything I’ve done for this city? I’ve given up my chance for rest, but I can still have some peace.” Danny continued, suddenly angry. He was in pain, had just bared his death, and they couldn’t give him this?
“Phantom…” Jones said.
“I’ve earned my peace !” Danny said, tampering down on his anger, but still stubbornly refusing to fess up. “Do you know how often I’ve been blasted and beaten and burned and bled to keep this city safe, even with all the people trying to dissect me ? The number of stitches I’ve had to give myself after being thrown through freaking windows, the number of broken bones I’ve had to set? All without complaint, because it helped this city, because a ghost can’t go to the hospital for help because I’m - “ He choked on the last word. Because he’s dead. Tears began to fall again. Why couldn’t this all just freaking end? “Haven’t I earned my peace?” And he was sobbing again.
“Can you come over here?” Michaels said, the question surprising Danny. But Michaels was unarmed and Jones had already called Danny good. So Danny floated over, settling in the spot Michaels was patting next to himself. When Michaels folded his arms around Danny, the halfa’s immediate reaction was to stiffen and he nearly fled, until he realized Michaels was hugging him. And Danny absolutely broke down at the gentle touch from the stranger, sobbing as the older man kept reassuring him he was okay.
When Danny’s tears eased up, Michaels pulled back away.
“Kid, there’s very few left in this city who would deny everything you’ve done for Amity.” Michaels said.
“But,” Jones interjected. “We still need to know who you were. We still need to notify your parents. But we can keep you a secret from everyone else, keep all of this off the hard records, bury you under your ghost identity.”
“Why do you not want to tell your parents, kid?” Michaels asked. “Did they have a hand in… what caused you to become a ghost?”
“No!” Danny insisted, immediately defending his parents, then sighing. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”
“I’m sorry. We have a responsibility to this city and we can’t ignore a dead, missing child.” Jones answered.
Danny dropped his head into his hands for a moment to think. If he didn’t answer, he knew they’d just investigate. And then there would be a paper trail. And what lie could he possibly give? Make up a random name? They’d catch it and investigate it, no longer trusting him.
“I’m not missing.” Danny confessed.
“I know you’re still here, but your human self-“ Jones began before Danny cut him off.
“Human me isn’t missing either.”
“Did… did your parents not even notice you were missing? You’ve been here at least two years!”
“They… they’ve seen me the past two years.”
“Wait, Phantom,” Michaels started. “Are you still living your human life? Is that why you hid your body?”
At the mention of his body, Danny’s core flared back up, but Danny was able to smother it back down. “Yes.” He answered simply.
“We… we still need to know your human identity, Phantom. We need to verify this.”
A war raged inside Danny. The desire to keep his secret against the knowledge his secret would eventually come out regardless. He wasn’t getting out of this with his secret intact.
They should’ve buried the body deeper.
“I… I’m Danny Fenton.” He confessed, hiding behind his hands again.
“Uh, of all the people in the city, I’m fairly certain the Fentons would notice their son was a ghost. And I’ve seen Danny Fenton recently, with them. Alive.” Jones said, disbelief in his voice.
“It’s gonna be bright.” Was all the warning Danny gave as he released his Phantom form, leaving black-haired Fenton sitting beside him.
“Oh.” Jones said.
“I… how? I know I’ve seen you go through ghost shields. That time you saved the adults was recorded by some of your classmates. You went through a ghost shield.” Michaels said, dumbfounded.
“Only half of me died.” Danny said, gesturing towards the grave in front of them without looking at it before holding his wrist out to Michaels. “Feel. I have a pulse.”
Michaels, looking incredulous, obeyed, his eyes widening when he felt the slow thump of Danny’s heartbeat.
“You can’t tell anyone,” Danny pleaded. “I’d rather not get found out by the Ghost Investigation Ward. They won’t care I’m human.”
“But… but your parents actively hunt you? Why don’t you tell them?” Jones spoke up, wrestling the shocked look off his face. Danny remained silent. “Phan… Danny, are you afraid of how they’ll react?”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Danny whispered.
Michaels took a very deep breath. “The terms are still the same, Danny. You have to tell your parents, but this stays off the books.”
“I… what if they… don’t… take it well? Attack me? Out me?”
“Danny, you were right earlier. You have earned peace. But you won’t truly have that until your parents know. They’ll either stop, or we will intervene and make sure you get your peace.” Michaels said. “But they have to know.”
“This is non-negotiable, Danny. I’m sorry.” Jones agreed.
“Will you come with me? And swear to me - if I do this, no one else ever learns who I am from you two, not on any file anywhere online or on paper, and my… and that gets buried under Phantom. Swear it.” Danny insisted, pointing at his body.
“Of course we’ll come.” Michaels said.
“And we swear it. Like Michaels said - you’ve earned your peace. And Amity stands behind you.” Jones added.
Danny took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
~~~~~~
Phantom stood in front of the tombstone, a soft breeze blowing around him, though the day remained warm even as leaves swirled on the ground against his feet.
It was actually his parents who had helped with the cover story for the body, why it even existed. No one questioned it. As far as Amity now knew, Phantom was older than previously thought and when he appeared here, his body followed him. He remained here because this was where the ghosts were, this was where he could help. Ghosts were real, so who’s to say their bodies didn’t continue to come to them?
There was something inherently odd about staring at your own grave while your heart was still beating - even if it wasn’t right now.
Jones and Michaels had been good on their word. They’d helped him reveal himself to his parents. They’d filled the report of the found body with the same nonsense his parents had provided. And they’d arranged his funeral. They’d gone one step further, too. They had publicly announced that the police department stood behind Phantom, as the fire department had over a year ago (intangibility made saving people from burning buildings much easier).
They’d even reached out to Amity’s only hospital, talked to their administration about the injuries he said he often got, asked if there was any way Phantom could be seen here when he was hurt too bad. And the hospital had enthusiastically agreed - he’d saved so many people (several of the hospital staff included), he fought for them, he never faltered for them. So of course they could manage applying stitches or splints (he healed too fast to need a cast). Danny did tend to go there fairly often - he still just wasn’t comfortable yet with his parents being around an injured Phantom, but he hoped he eventually became okay with it. Though he also really didn’t want his parents to realize how hurt he got, but that was more a teenager thing. He thinks.
It wasn’t until the funeral, however, that Danny realized just how much he meant to Amity. The cemetery had been too full, bursting with people. Many of them even spoke - stories of how he’d helped them. Flowers of every kind had been stacked all around his place of rest. So many wished him well, wished him to be safe. That while his body may be there, he was still every bit as much a person as the humans there.
Amity, overall, loved him. He’d started to see it when the police had trusted him and kept his secret. He fully believed it after seeing his funeral. Sure, it might be morbid, but he had been there for it, invisible. He had listened and cried at Amity’s support for him. They had come such a long way from the days of Invisobill. The police had asked him about the handful of bad things he’d done and accepted his answers. Phantom was officially cleared as being a person (ghost?) of concern. Other than property damage he struggled to control, he had never done anything wrong.
So Danny stood there, three days after his funeral and staring at his own grave, letting himself cry. Cry for what he had been, what he had been through since. The dreams he’d abandoned to protect this town. Cry for his parents’ acceptance, cry for Amity’s love. Tears fell onto the stone beneath him as he allowed himself to be hopeful for what comes next.
Here lies the earthly remains of
Danny Phantom
Amity’s restless hero,
May he find peace.