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Even from the beginning, it was the HAZMAT. There’s many things Maddie considers strange about Phantom. The way he claims to be good yet acts contradictory, how when her and Jack think they’ve finally got a theory for his obsession, he switches.
But his choice of outfit has always…bugged her, mainly for two reasons.
The first, that it resembles quite closely to hers and Jack’s.
The second, which is rather more empathetic and not her usual approach, is that he appears to be the ghost of a child. A child that died in laboratory equipment. Unless, perhaps, he’d wanted to be a scientist when grown.
(But both her and Jack know that’s not true. He’d wanted to be an astronaut, apparently. Something they’d found out when snooping on Phantom playing with the child pirate ghost).
“I just…don’t understand where he could’ve got it from.” Jack mumbles, unusually quiet. They’ve got an array of photos of Phantom spread over their workbench. Some of him in mid flight, some blurred beyond recognition.
Maddie picks up a one taken from the local news channel, Amity Angle. Phantom resting casually on the Nasty Burger sign, HAZMAT clearly definable—black with white trim.
Just like theirs.
“I suppose, he could have created it out of his own idea?” Maddie counters, weakly. They’ve seen it before with other ghosts, alternating their appearances over time. Could the same have happened here?
“But he’s always had that HAZMAT suit, Mads.” Jack grimaces. “Maybe he saw that we were ghost hunters and decided to replicate us?”
A ghost, replicating them?
But then…
Maddie remembers when Phantom first started. When she and Jack had been near blasting him, never bothering to pause and think. Phantom had just the same approach with other ghosts, fight first, questions never.
Eventually over time, Phantom’s become known for his way of mediating fights. Adapted, something which ghosts shouldn’t be able to do. Or at least, her and Jack once thought that.
“It makes sense.” She ponders, looking at the photo again. “Our old hunting style, Phantom practically copied us, didn’t he? And now he’s learned I suppose. But would it be a reach to assume he’d copied our costumes too?”
“We should ask him!” Jack replies brightly. “We’ve never had a proper conversation with him, anyways.”
Which is true, because quite frankly, their new approach is merely weeks old. Finally encouraged by Jazz to take “non-confrontational” methods and evaluate its effectiveness compared to their former strategy.
“Yes. We’ll do that.” Maddie nods, turning from the bench to grab a notepad.
She hopes deep down, their theory is right. That maybe Phantom is a child ghost that once idolised them and decided to replicate them.
(Even though that, in itself, makes Maddie sick to the stomach. A ghost idolising the people whose once sought to destroy it)
Because the other alternative?
A child has died in a HAZMAT suit of their making.
Maddie sees him the next day in the aftermath of a ghost fight, suit torn, ectoplasm dribbling from a split lip.
“Need help?” She asks, outstretching a hand, holstering her gun to her belt. Not missing the way Phantom nearly doubles over in a flinch. Just showing how fresh their truce really is.
”Uh—thanks.” Phantom mumbles, taking her hand and she hoists him up. His grip much weaker than the strength she’s seen him display. “I’ll be fine. Just a couple of scrapes.”
”I’ll be the judge of that.” She scans him up and down, noting the paler than pallid skin, his face gaunt and knees slightly bent, trembling. And of course, the wounds tearing welts across his HAZMAT suit, sluggishly steeping ectoplasm.
“I’ve had worse.” The ghost looks away, wringing his hands together. No doubt, once caused by them. Maddie remembers a few particular injuries and times where she’d grounded Phantom mid-flight, celebrated for it.
His cheeks are still rounded with baby fat, eyes wide and round, limbs at that awkward stage between baby deer and towering. Just like Danny is now. Phantom can’t have been much older than her son.
She opens her mouth to ask, but then decides against it. One of Jazz’s warnings in their new strategy was to not question a ghost about their past life or any personal questions, only if the ghost had prompted the discussion themselves.
What had made them finally listen? She’s not sure, but it had been going on for a while. Her and Jack had grown tired of the inefficiency of their methods, constantly realising that theories and research weren’t adding up. So here she is.
“Come on.” Maddie beckons the ghost, towards Fentonworks. He obliges, following like a stray dog. Whether it’s out of his own authority, or he’s worried if he doesn’t oblige he’ll be blasted—she doesn’t know.
They eventually get to the house, and Phantom hesitates before stepping over the threshold. Although, he doesn’t look completely uneasy for a ghost stepping into a hunters house.
“Have you been here before?” Maddie questions, instantly feeling a flush on her neck. There’s a ghost portal in the basement, of course he has!
But Phantom looks momentarily stunned.
“Yeah, I guess?” Phantom hovers behind a kitchen chair, jabbing a finger in the direction of the lab. “When I need to put the ghosts back in the zone.”
“Interesting.” Maddie nods, taking the key from her belt. “Would you like a tour? Properly?”
Two weeks ago, she would’ve thought herself absurd. Showing a ghost around the premises like a grocery store.
But Jazz had really really pressed for them to use these methods of non confrontation and communication. And if it’s anything Maddie knows in the past few years, it’s that she’s never listened to the kids enough.
“Why not.” The ghost shrugs.
Taking a breath, Maddie shoves the key in the door and turns the handle. The lights automatically flicker on as she opens the door, the green of the portal swirling reflecting onto the tiles. Machines whirr and beep.
“Welcome to the Fenton lab.” She spreads her arms out, moving down the stairs. “I’m sure you’re well acquainted with it.”
“Very.” Phantom nods. “Glad it's not a dissection or dissolving experience.”
”So…if you don’t mind me asking?”
Phantom looks neutral, shrugging as he glances towards the portal. She observes his fists clenching as he looks at it before turning back to her.
”Go ahead. Just, nothing about my death or personal life.”
“So, why do you hunt ghosts?” She decides to get to the point straightaway. Wanting to understand his motivation.
Why he has that HAZMAT suit.
”Good question.” Phantom nods slowly, pacing around the floor, slightly liked a caged animal, yet free from containment. “Well I, felt responsible, in a way? That all the ghosts were causing havoc in Amity. I have these powers, and realistically, no offence, am the only one who can consistently deal with the attacks. And since it was me who started this.”
”You started this? What on earth do you mean by that?” Unless Phantom’s staged some consistent ghost invasion of Amity in such large swathes, she doesn’t know how he could even be responsible.
”I just…well. Y’know.” The ghost trails off, clenching his left fist. It’s a trait she’s noticed for a while now.
Perhaps it’s misplaced guilt from something else? The idea of ghosts having unsettled and misplaced emotions is certainly prevalent in the research field—anger being the most common. But what about guilt?
She looks at his HAZMAT. His guilty face. Barely Danny’s age.
A child in laboratory outfit. Going where they shouldn’t. A guilt for not listening, paying the price in death.
Acting as a hero to ensure no one goes what he did. And certainly, it doesn’t infer well of his parents. Allowing a child, unsupervised. Dead.
Perhaps that is another reason Phantom considers himself a hero? Perhaps as a child, a shadow in his house, he’d read superhero comics as an escape. One day dreaming he’d be like that. Death giving him the freedom to do so.
”Mads, I’m back!” The stairs rattle as Jack thunders down them. Maddie notes the way Phantom flinches.
“Oh, hey ghost kid. Didn’t see you there.”
”You too.” Phantom gives a tight smile.
”We were just having a discussion.” Maddie clarifies, picking her earlier notes off the workbench. Phantom tilts his head, curious.
”Excellent. I quite like this new method, don’t you Mads? Discussion! Who thought it could be this easy.”
”Not me.” Phantom responds.
”And actually, ghost kid, we were wondering about your HAZMAT earlier.”
”My—my HAZMAT?” The ghost is taken aback, looking down at his figure.
”Yeah! It resembles our quite a lot, you see.” Jack continues, progressing towards the cupboard where they store the PPE.
”Oh.” Phantom grasps at his glove, paling. It seems he is aware of the similarities. Interesting.
Maddie watches as Jack brings out one of Danny’s old jumpsuits, a one a few years ago, before the most recent one they’d given to him (that’d disappeared somewhere, and Danny hadn’t asked for a replacement, so they’d not gotten around to it).
”See now,” Jack babbles, the HAZMAT on a hanger at arm’s length, “Our Danno has this one, it’s white and black so not the same but inverted, his went missing…“
Maddie freezes. Jack holds the HAZMAT near to Phantom’s left side. It hangs innocently, glistening in the light.
Jack’s eyes widen, mouth parting. He turns to her.
”Mads…I think we’ve found Danno’s missing HAZMAT.”
Phantom shifts awkwardly, cringing, and points towards the portal.
”I wanted to fix it?”
”Oh Danny.” Maddie feels her heart plummet to the floor.