#Good Teacher Mr. Lancer

[darthfrodophantom]

A Secret Uncovered on AO3

Summary: When a reporter catches Danny's transformation on tape, Danny finds that dealing with his new notoriety is the greatest battle of all. While facing the media, his classmates, Valerie, Dash, his teachers, and his family, he wonders if they will see him as he is, or if they will only see him as a ghost. But who is the mysterious ghost who set him up? What plans does he have for Danny now that his secret has been revealed? And how much can he possibly mess up his life further?

AO3: Link

I'm so excited to present the official repost of A Secret Uncovered to AO3! I know FanFiction.Net has been a difficult place to view this fic, so I've been wanting to cross-post it over to AO3 for awhile.

But I decided if I was reposting it, why not shine it up a bit? So I've been meticulously going through each chapter with some major edits including: adding more internal thoughts in the beginning chapters, tightening up some dialogue, fixing some grammar, and updating the writing style. But don't worry! It's still the same plot and all your favorite parts should still be here, just expanded upon and refreshed. And the original cut will always live on FanFiction.Net for nostalgia purposes.

If you've read this before, I hope you enjoy some of the updates! If this is new for you, I hope you enjoy the ride!

[artemismoorea03]

Mr. Lancer glances into the back of his car with concern. The rear seats had been laid down in order to tend to Danny who’s health hadn’t gotten any better since they had left Amity Park. Sam, Tucker and Jasmine had taken care of his wounds in a way that looked professional, talking quietly to themselves as they clearly tried to come up with a plan.

They kept mentioning how they weren’t sure they could trust Lancer, and he hardly blamed them.

Danny was his favorite student (though he had never told him such - maybe he should have before now) but he had never noticed the connection between Danny and Phantom. How could he be so blind? How could he have not noticed the wounds, the scars, the exhaustion, the pain?

Even if it had been abuse from his parents he should have reported it.

He should paid more attention.

He should have done more.

Mr. Lancer looked forward again, tightening the grip on the wheel as he tried to keep his calm. Tucker had said they had ‘wiped the servers’ which Mr. Lancer hoped meant that any research the Fenton’s had on Phantom went up in flames. Sam said she ‘contacted Valerie and told her everything’ which implied that Valerie Gray was now involved in the situation as well. Jasmine all the while had asked the occasional question but had otherwise given nothing but instructions to the others on what to do.

“How much longer, Mr. Lancer?” Jasmine asked as Mr. Lancer looked back at them again then at the GPS.

They had been on the road for half a day by this point, stopping now and then for gas and snacks but they couldn’t stay anywhere long due to the condition Danny was in and the fact that they were breaking so many laws just by being on the road the way they were.

“Half an hour.” Mr. Lancer said, “At least according to this.”

“Are you sure they’ll help us?” Tucker asked, “W-why haven’t they helped before now?”

“I... I don’t know. But I know that no matter what I am not willing to let anybody else get hurt. If push comes to shove I’ll distract them and you guys get Danny out of there, okay? I’ll buy you time.” Mr. Lancer said, “but... I’m going to hope that they can help. After all, this was the first time any of us could reach them and they seemed interested in helping us so... let’s give them a chance... for Danny.”

The three kids looked at Danny sadly, as Danny whimpered.

Still unconscious. Still in pain. Still suffering.

“Why are you helping us?” Sam asked, a question that had been lingering for hours.

“Honestly...? I have been trying to get the Justice League involved for some time now and have also considered leaving in order to get them involved but... I felt as though I had to stay for Danny. Every time I thought about leaving my mind would turn to him and how I needed to make sure he didn’t get hurt. I’m glad that I listened to that instinct. Though, I know that might not answer your question.” He laughed nervously.

“We’re glad you did, Mr. Lancer. Thank you.” Jazz’s voice was quiet but sincere.

-----

They pulled into the outskirts of Gotham City at the building marked on his map. It felt like a trap to put it nicely, there were very few other buildings around and it felt suspicious. With Danny unconscious and the weapons the children had only working as distractions or on Ghosts it became clear that if this was a trap the children would be exposed.

“Jasmine, when I get out of the cat jump into the front seat and lock the doors. I’ll signal for you guys to come out if it’s safe.” Mr. Lancer explained as the redhead in the back seat nodded. “I’ll be back... take care of him.”

“We will.” Sam was quick to say. 

Mr. Lancer climbed out of the car as Jasmine climbed into the front seat and sat behind the wheel while Mr. Lancer walked to the front of the car and looked around. The scent of smog was thick in the air, almost suffocating and sickening. 

After a moment he saw movement to his right and glared towards the building.

“Who’s there?” He called.

“You’re observant.” A voice said as a person wearing a black suit with a black bird on the front of it. “The name is Nightwing, and you’re William Lancer, correct?”

Nightwing.

He had heard of him.

“Yes, I am. I was under the impression that I was meeting with a member of the Justice League.” Mr. Lancer stated.

“They’re around, they just have me testing the waters. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Mr. Lancer let out a distressed noise. “No offence, Mr. Nightwing, but as I told your colleges over the phone I have four children with me who need protection. I don’t have time for a game of telephone. Especially not when one is still bleeding out in my back seat.”

Nightwing tensed. “Wait, what do you mean? You mentioned that you were being chased by government agents but you never mentioned an injury.”

Mr. Lancer mentally kicked himself. “His name is Danny he was shot by a verity of high powered weapons specifically made to destroy what he is, but I warn you now that if you step near my vehicle with intents to harm my student then hero or not you will be dealing with me and my other students.”

Nightwing held up his hand, “I won’t hurt him. I promise, can I see?”

Mr. Lancer looked at Jazz who seemed to have been listening in as she nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, come to the back.”

He lead Nightwing to the back of his car, opening the back hatch that allowed them to see fully Danny laying out with a jacket covering most of him. A mixture of blood and glowing ectoplasm soaked his car in quantities that were concerning. Multiple slowly healing wounds covered his body with the worst of which bandaged with whatever they had managed to get from mini first aid kits from the gas stations.

Nightwing looked at Danny, then at the other three kids. “Are you guys okay?” He asked.

“Do we look okay? We just had to flee from a group of government agents and crazy adults determined to kill our best friend.” Hissed Sam and while Mr. Lancer wanted to scold her it was hard to given the stress and exhaustion they were all feeling.

“I think he meant are any of us injured.” Jazz asked more gently. “To answer that though, no we’re fine. We have a couple of bruises and burns but nothing serious. My brother is the one we’re worried about. We have supplies to treat him but haven’t had the chance or safe place to do it...”

Nightwing frowned, putting his hand to his ear. “B. I have four teens and William Lancer, they’re safe but one of the teens is in rough shape. I’m seeing at least half a dozen injuries. Requesting to bring them to a safehouse for medical attention.” He said, and after a beat of silence nodded. “Okay, William do I have permission to use your car? If I can use your car I have permission to drive you to one of our safe houses.”

“Yes, of course.” Mr. Lancer said as Jasmine climbed back in the back seat after unlocking the doors. Mr. Lancer closed the hatch then climbed into the passenger seat while Nightwing jumped into the front seat.

“Just a few more minutes, okay? How about introductions hm?” Nightwing said, driving down the road. “My name is Nightwing.”

“I’m Jazz and this is my brother Danny.” Jasmine introduced.

“Sam.”

“I’m Tucker or Tuck.” Tucker said after Sam, both sounding more hesitant.

“So Danny is the one who is hurt?”

“Yes.” Mr. Lancer said sadly. “He’s... he’s not a Meta, before you ask. He’s half-Ghost from what I’ve gathered from the kids. There is currently a law our Country is in place that allows anybody with a Ghost Hunting License to hunt, capture, and destroy him.”

Nightwing scowled slightly, “Do you know which law?”

“The Anti-Ecto Control Act.” Sam said. “And by helping us you’re technically breaking the law more than his parents and the agents who shot him down in the street and kept shooting him.”

“You know...” Nightwing smiled slightly, “Vigilantism isn’t entirely legal either, so we’ll just break the law a little bit now and apologize for it later.”

That one sentence made the tension in the car melt away into a puddle of tears. Jasmine, Tucker, Sam, and even Mr. Lancer all cried knowing that not only were they safe but Danny was safe.

Danny was safe and they would fight tooth and nail to keep him that way.

Dc x dp idea 84

Jack and Maddie are legit crazy mad scientist.

They moved to amity before jazz was born. Prior to the justice league. Those who didn’t comply when the moved were swiftly taken care of.

All outside new sources come from them amity has only seen what the fentons want.

The Giw were hired by the Fentons. Both are bad. But who would the town rather deal with the shoot first supposed government. Or the wacky Fenton parents.

And how many parents can exactly actively stake out a school. How many times had they been inside the school during the school day.

That is until mr lancer comes into play. Somehow he managed to slip by and entered the town this year. Earning a position of vice principal right under their noses.

He actively promotes Danny doing better. Actually forcing him to do his work and learn.

He takes notes of Danny’s declining health. Falling asleep in class, the bruises and reports the fentons. Only for nothing to happen.

Lancer then takes notes of the eccentric actions of the fentons. The screaming of tearing the ghosts apart. He knows about the truth of the outside world. He knows this would go against the meta human protection acts. So he makes a mental note to contact the proper services of the need arises.

After the events of the town being yoinked into the infinite realms. He finally acts. Sending out an email and call to the justice league hotline. Unbeknownst to him both being stopped by the Fenton parents.

Obviously they plan to deal with him when the time is right.

The only reason he stays is because no other adult seems to care about the kids. He was the only one who event attempted to check in on them during the ghost flu.

He can’t stand by any longer when he sees the two Fenton parents hunting phantom. See them getting skilled shots in. Actively forcing phantom into Danny. But they don’t stop. Still shooting at Danny.

Mr. Lancer watches as Jazz, Sam and Tucker manage to get them away. He ushers them to his car the five hardly manages to make it out. Danny seriously injured.

It’s only then does the phone connect to the justice league helpline.

[silverspectre51]

DP Prompt: A Hero's Heart

(I don't have time to write this story so I'm putting this out there.) How Casper High got the rights to perform Disney's Hercules as a musical no one knew. That Dash Baxter wanted to play Zeus was a given. But what no one expected was for Danny Fenton to audition for Hercules. Mr. Lancer was skeptical, but saw a little of himself in the young man. He decided to test the boy, to see if his reedy voice could sing. No one was prepared for what happened next.

Danny stood onstage, and though he was not in costume, he sang with unbelievable heart.

I have often dreamed of a far off place Where a hero's welcome would be waiting for me Where the crowds would cheer, when they see my face And a voice keeps saying this is where I'm meant to be

I'll be there someday, I can go the distance I will find my way if I can be strong I know every mile would be worth my while When I go the distance, I'll be right where I belong

Down an unknown road to embrace my fate Though that road may wander, it will lead me to you And a thousand years would be worth the wait It might take a lifetime but somehow I'll see it through

And I won't look back, I can go the distance And I'll stay on track, no I won't accept defeat It's an uphill slope But I won't lose hope, 'til I go the distance And my journey is complete

But to look beyond the glory is the hardest part For a hero's strength is measured by his heart

Like a shooting star, I will go the distance I will search the world, I will face its harms I don't care how far, I can go the distance 'Til I find my hero's welcome waiting in your arms

I will search the world, I will face its harms 'Til I find my hero's welcome waiting in your arms

Sam cried as her boyfriend finished, his warm smile and teary eyes firmly on her. She felt undeserving of such an amazing, selfless, young man.

Surprisingly, she was not the only one moved to tears. Dash eyed Mr. Lancer incredulously.

"Teach, why are you crying? Fenturd isn't that good."

Mr. Lancer, who had been entrusted with Danny's secret prior to this, struggled to stop his sobs. His head snapped in the blond bully's direction, and he spoke firmly despite his emotion.

"Congratulations, Mr. Baxter, you have just failed Theater."

[mossycobblestonewrites]

DC X DP PROMPT #16

Mr. Lancer is the brother of Lex Luthor. He never really had an eye for business, or invention, or innovation. He just wanted to be a teacher, spread the good word on literature. Which is the whole reason he had changed his name and moved to the middle of nowhere.

He does not appreciate his brother delivering a package in his door. Not delivering it personally, not even sending a physical person to do a drop off. Just a measly note.

'hold onto this for me - L.L.'

What has Lex ever done for him? Nothing, that's what. So Mr. Lancer does the sensible thing. He opens the box to investigate to find - hardened ectoplasm?

Mr. Lancer knows about Danny and co. Au where Kryptonite is just hardened Ecto and is basically rock candy. Lex sends his brother a shit ton of kryptonite for safe keeping thinking 'he lives in the middle of nowhere what's he gonna do with it?' he feeds it to Danny :)

[satoshy12]

Professor Fenton of Gotham University.

Cutest Dani with Papa Professor/Teacher Danny, who is teaching history at Gotham University. (As he can just meet historical people in the ghost zone.) +

After the years did go by, Danny was able to do better with his enemies; he was a teacher! Ghost Writer and Clockworks fault + small but of Mr. Lancer, and in the Zone he was able to meet historical figures pretty easily. + That was how Danny became the youngest professor in the US with his master's thesis in history.

And then he became a professor in Gotham; his students weren't sure how to feel about a teacher their age or younger. But ironically, he was the best teacher they ever had at the university! So people had no problem.

And Danny showing off his baby girl, Dani, is fun for him too! Hey, the job makes sure his daughter Dani can go to the university for free in the future. And his students really like Dani! + Adult Danny and Ellie Look i had before me. (Manhwa:" male lead's little lion daughter)

And Cassandra Cain was a pretty good person who spent time with Dani. When she visits the University for Tim, she found Dani.. And kind of forgot she wanted to visit Tim. + Wayne Manor Tim:" I fear my professor will become my brother-in-law." +Extra+ Archaeologists:" I dreamed and worked my whole life to find a book handwritten by Shakespeare!" Professor! Danny: " I have like 3 of them and gave 1 to my teacher for an A+ in history and English for the rest of the year. Man, Mr. Lancer did cry for like 2 weeks after that."

+ And to the Archaeologist's horror, it's really an original one. They found Mr. Lancer of Amity Park, who proudly showed them the book. So many historians and Archaeologist don't leave Danny alone; they know he has a lot of things like that but no idea where he hides them!

[mkarchin713]

Lance was unsure what to do with the information his student just provided.

Ever since the clown incident strange things where happening to Lance. He kept finding strange, for lack of a better term, presents in strange places.

His fridge was filled to the brim with home made food.

Random first editions of his favorite novels suddenly appeared on his bedside table.

All of his bills had already been paid in advance for the next three years.

It was all so confusing, appreciated, but confusing.

It wasn’t until Danny over heard him telling another teacher about what was happening that he learned what was going on.

According to Danny, “Phantom” how that boy didn’t realize every one but his parents had figure it out by now he’ll never know had told him that their was a weird ghostly aura around Lance, and not just his developing liminality. This combined with all the presents spoke to one thing.

Lance was being courted by a ghost.

They are built different

Sure not everyone in Amity Park has ghostly powers or access to almost alien like technology. But living there. Dealing with the supernatural on the regular and having small amounts of ectoplasm in the water source made them sturdier. People dont bruise as often. They can take slightly harder hits or simply their responses to danger might not be as normal.

So while it leaves some in Gotham quite confused the class of Casper High sees it as rather normal when their teacher knocks out some weird clown with his copy of Pride and Prejudice before calling the police.

And if not for the teacher some students seemed ready to deal with that one.

Red Hood demanded the Video.

[azulhood]

Danny and Jazz were almost at the end of their rope.

They've checked almost everyone they knew who would take them in.

Sam's family? Didn't want them living under the same roof as their daughter.

Mr Lancer? He did actually want to take them in but his one bedroom apartment was not a suitable place for kids to live and his teachers salary couldn't afford to support three people.

Tucker's family? Got shut down by Vlad.

Which was the end of the list of who could get custody, well living at least.

There was no way either of them were living with Vlad, and with that in mind, they decided to get creative.

--------------------

When Edward woke up, sitting at an old interrogation table in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse (don't ask him which one, gothem had too many) and splitting pain in his head from most likely getting knocked out, his first thought was I knew it.

Gotham rogues had been disappearing only to reappear the next day with no memory and often in bad shape, like black mask and Bane.

Some of the rogues, such as penguin and Ivy, believed that they would be safe from the next attack.

Edward was slightly more pessimistic.

And it turned out he was right.

"ahem." Noise brought his attention to the warehouses other occupants.

Two teenagers.

It was strange to think that these two put Bane into a coma, but Edward had spent most of his nights getting the stuffing beaten out of him by a child wearing the colours of a traffic light so he was suitably wary.

"How can I help you?" Being polite was always a good idea when kidnapped by possible meta children (because no normal person could walk away from a fight with Bane, the bats don't qualify as normal.)

"Hi, I'm Jazz and this is Danny." The red head introduced herself and the blue eyed boy next to her. "Nice to meet you Mr Nygma."

"Nice to meet you as well." His mouth responded on autopilot as he panicked over being addressed by name, no one who kidnapped him did that ( which was mostly the bats taking him back to Arkham after another foiled plan) unless they were Amanda Waller.

"Right, now that we all know each other, let's get started." Danny said pulling out a sheet of paper and star themed pen from somewhere.

"Get started on what?" Torture? Edward would really like to know if that was the case.

"The interview." Jazz explained " You just have to answer a few questions then you get to go, after we wipe your memory of course, we have someone who we don't want knowing we're in Gotham."

"Oh, of course." Edward replied faintly as he processed the information given to him.

"And if you get job we'll contact you in a week." Danny added as he twirled his pen. "Got it?"

"Yes." Edward had never been more confused in his life.

[yourlocalcorviddad]

Ok Ok so.

In dpxdc stories. Danny always gets assumed to be sick or uses it as an excuse or whatever to hide his powers right?

What if he wasn't lying?

It wasn't something easily noticed, not when half a dozen other things could explain it after all.

The shakes lingering? Well he'd used his ice powers a lot the night before fighting Skulker.

The faint feeling and lightheadedness? Well his mom had a good shot when people didn't interfere, and while he healed fast, it wasn't from nothing; he felt better after he ate anyway.

Heart racing suddenly? Probably just attempting to regulate the low beat on reflex again to seem normal but over shot it.

But the getting out of breath or spotty vision hadn't really been easily explained.

It was Mr. Lancer who asked about it after he'd gotten up from his seat in detention-happening less and less for actual reasons and more an opportunity to safely do his work and rest, after the truce with the ghosts to leave him and the town be during certain hours-only for the next thing he knew he was on the floor, head pillowed on Mr. Lancer's sweater, and a cool wet paper towel on his forehead and neck.

POTS. Post orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Not uncommon for those who had had injuries too their hearts to get.

It made sense when the teacher asked if he could have it. Apparently a friend of his's daughter had it.

From there, it made things easier to an extent. Salt was pretty easy to add, he figured out a wrist brace that he could extend into a cane if needed to.

In ghost form he didn't need it at all, but human form had its limits.

Despite all that he'd gone through, he graduates and even gets accepted to a college near jazz, hers was in Metropolis but Gotham had the ambient ectoplasm that he needed, and it was a day trip away.

And so Gotham U became his home, especially after his parents couldn't take that he wasn't "their son" anymore when he told them-after moving everything and getting his cheap apartment set up just in case. He considered it lucky that they loved their son enough they couldn't hunt "his ghost".

Last he'd heard they were working closer with the GIW but hadn't had much luck since the portal strangely closed soon after he left and the other ghosts didn't feel much reason to visit Amity anymore without him there.

It was Gotham U where he met Dick by literally fainting into his arms after a long day where he'd forgotten to eat and the early dinner the night before plus the going down the stairs at a quick pace and leaning forward with gravity.

"sorry, couldn't help falling for you~" the cheesy pick up line was the only thing his foggy brain could comprehend before he fainted.

[faeriekit]

Things Long Gone

for a phic phight prompt from @armed-with-knitting-needles

Edward Lancer woke up the same way he did every morning.

He rolled out of bed. Brushed his teeth. Changed into a button-up and a tie, and slacks he wouldn’t hate throughout the course of the day.

He made his coffee like he did every day: he stuck his thermos under the machine, waited with a slice of toast until the coffee maker stopped pouring, and capped it in one smooth motion that shook its contents until everything was relatively mixed inside. No sweetners. No sugar. No milk.

Great. Ed went to grab his keys…

…His keys weren’t on the hook.

He blinked, hand frozen in its attempt so reach what wasn’t there. His. Where were his keys? He’d had them yesterday.

…He was pretty sure he’d had them yesterday. Hadn’t he gone to see Lizzy and the new baby? His sister had been so excited to show Charlotte off to her new uncle. Ed had been excited to go.

…Whatever. Amity Park was relatively walkable; as long as he dashed, he could get there in time.

So, off he jogged, into the hot, early morning, sweating and puffing as he went.

*

Ed made to the school entrance just as the bell rang for first period. He sighed, struggling for air—but at least he’d be able to swap in for Mrs. Keppler’s math course this morning. Man, he felt as if he’d run every class at this point. They might as well make him the—

Something invisible SLAMMED into his face.

His nose crunched. Ed swore in every classic title he knew, stumbling back and grabbing at his nose—ugh, and his fingers were coming away wet. He had to go see the nurse, or, more likely, the hospital. He was later than ever, but he’d have to—

He tried for the door again. Again, something stopped him.

…Ed frowned. He rapped against the invisible boundary with his knuckles. It was probably ghosts, again, but this was unusually…static. Benign?

“Ed, good heavens! What happened to your face?”

Ed turned around, nose slowly beginning to swell up in his hands as Ms. Cathleen Rylant stalked up the walkway to the school. “G’Morning,” he grunted, unable to summon the capacity for proper pronunciation. “I…seem to be blocked from getting into the building.”

Cathleen frowned. Her shoulder bag was pulled higher onto her thin, elderly shoulder: a nervous gesture. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ed! Is there anything…”

“Do you mind testing it for me?” Ed tried, carefully cupping the blood he could feel from dripping down onto his dress shirt. “If it affects you, or is unique to me…”

There were a few ghosts that targeted individuals. Ed had some surety that the genie ghost had gotten him to ‘call out from school’ today—there was a text today, and he would not put it past

“Got it,” the elderly science teacher offered sweetly. Cathleen was a gift, truly. “Was it…?”

Ed smacked a hand against the barrier. There was no visible sign of it—no distortion, no ripple, no change in color.

“Got it.” Cathleen—and her much more fragile bones—carefully put a hand out, expecting to be able to put her weight on it.

She just barely caught her balance before falling onto the concrete step. Ed reached out a hand to help her, and, of course, ended up with bruised fingers for the trouble. He swore.

“Huh,” she said. “…Well, I’m late for first period anyway; want me to tell Yuuko what’s holding you up?”

Ed sighed. He reminded himself that informing their principal would be best, considering the circumstances… “Yes, please. Thank you, Cathleen.”

“No problem, Ed.”

And Edward Lancer sat on the front step of the school, back leaned against nothing, and waited to see what could be done for him.

He took his hand away from his nose to reach for his coffee.

…His blood wasn’t red.

Ed’s blood went cold.

Wait. Why had—

—Screeching tires, metal SLAMMED into its final place, snapping, cracking, the lights cutting out, a choked last breath—

…Ed’d had his car yesterday. Why didn’t he have it this morning?

“I’m imagining things,” Ed muttered to himself. He wiped the green blood onto the back of his clean plants and resolved to wait for Principal Ishiyama.

*

Mr. Lancer was still outside the school by the time lunch rolled around.

“So he’s just…hanging out?” Sam asked around a mouthful of vegan-and-cruelty-free sushi, staring from their place under the tree at their teacher and his crowd of educational professionals.

Danny shrugged. He swallowed a bite of ham-and-baloney. “Looks like,” he observed. They watched as Mr. Lancer proved, again, that no matter how hard his middle-age-professional bulk heaved and pushed, there was no getting past the entryway into the school.

“…Huh.” Sam took a second bite. Across the yard, Mr. Lancer slipped on the invisible barrier, and everyone got closer to help pick him off the ground. “Any idea why this is happening?”

Danny put his sandwich down. He didn’t say anything.

Sam turned to look at him. “Danny?”

“…I saw an accident on the way home with Dad last night,” Danny offered quietly. He picked a little speck of nothing off of his sandwich. “The two cars were bent in half at the bottom of the ravine. There were rescue trucks and police all over the other side of the highway; cars were backed up for like four exits behind it. One of the cars looked like Mr. Lancer’s gray crapbox, but it’s not like I could get a good look…”

Sam went quiet. Danny stayed quiet.

They watched as Mr. Lancer explained, again, for the nineteenth time, that he couldn’t get into the school, and didn’t know why.

“…Oh,” said Sam. She set her chopsticks down.

“Mmhmm.” Danny swallowed. “Uh…looks like Mom’s updates on the ghost shields are working, though.”

“No kidding,” Sam echoed absently.

Eventually, lunch was over. When they went back inside, half-eaten lunches packed back up to take home for later, the distant figure of Mr. Lancer was still outside the school door, hoping to be let back in.

[darthfrodophantom]

A Secret Uncovered - Chapter 25 - Final Chapter

Summary: When a reporter catches Danny's transformation on tape, Danny finds that dealing with his new notoriety is the greatest battle of all. While facing the media, his classmates, Valerie, Dash, his teachers, and his family, he wonders if they will see him as he is, or if they will only see him as a ghost. But who is the mysterious ghost who set him up? What plans does he have for Danny now that his secret has been revealed? And how much can he possibly mess up his life further?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49436419/chapters/127133692#workskin

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2760973/25/A-Secret-Uncovered

Yes, this is a NEW final chapter of A Secret Uncovered!

As promised, the final chapter is here! After 10 years since my last update and after 17 years of originally posting it, this chapter is finally seeing the light of day.

This is such a huge moment for me to be able to share this with you. I hope you all enjoy it. I hope it's everything you wanted it to be. And thank you for sharing your time with me while reading this fic!

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp short idea 64

The situation in amity is revealed because of Mr.Lancer.

After the ghost hospital situation, the beauty plangent kidnapping, and the time while he took the students on a camping trip he’s had enough.

Mr. Lancer reports his concerns to the justice league hotline.

[tourettesdog]

Okay

Based on the prompts "Lancer is a good teacher and cares" and "Well, shit. He can't change back!"

For @majorastudios and @lexosaurus Word count: 9,563 Warnings: panic attacks, child neglect (more implied) AO3 Link ~

Danny would be the first to admit that he had a knack for finding himself in stupid situations. 

Or, at least, they had a knack for finding him.

This was all to say that the last place Danny expected to find himself on a bright and sunny July afternoon was trapped in an elevator with Mr. Lancer, of all people.

Now, the situation could have been worse— and it was. For all the shitty luck that Danny possessed in the universe, it seemed that there was always another giant middle finger waiting around the next corner. 

Danny hadn’t thought much when he heard the grinding sound of the parking deck’s elevator as one of the mechanisms securing the cable snapped. He’d been out flying when it happened and simply bolted towards the sound, determined to phase whoever was inside to safety. It had come as a shock, finding the elevator occupied by someone he knew. What came as more of a surprise, however, was the sickly glow of a ghost shield snapping into place before Danny could follow through with that plan.

It had been a close thing, putting on the brakes before he collided, Lancer in tow, with the glowing wall of the elevator.

Unfortunately, the doors had long-since shut and he couldn’t touch the crooked metal without meeting the painful shock of the shield.

Just being inside of it had Danny feeling woozy.

All he could do was stand awkwardly on the elevator floor, his stance a bit crooked as the elevator had sagged into a tilt, off-balance as it was in the shaft.

It was at least preferable to the thing crashing down to the ground floor.

Lancer, for what it was worth, was managing better than most would given the circumstances. At least, he had stopped screaming about a minute ago. 

If there was one positive thing Danny could gleen from the experience, it would have to be hearing his teacher utter a hearty  ‘fuck’  rather than the usual literary substitute. 

Not that he had much time to enjoy it at present.

Lancer’s chest heaved and his knees shook. He leaned against the side of the elevator with his arms splayed out across the metal hand railing on that side, his eyes flickering all around the small cabin. Danny knew that ghost shields never felt pleasant even to humans, but in his distress Mr. Lancer seemed to favor leaning into the buzz of the ectoplasmic energy over standing. Granted, given the shakiness of his legs, they might not hold him much anyway.

The metal of the elevator groaned, dust cascading from the paneled roof as it slid a couple inches down the shaft, eliciting a startled yelp from Lancer as he grabbed the railing with white knuckles.

Danny supposed there was more than one reason he should stay anchored to that railing.

“H–hey,” Danny said, trying to get his teacher’s attention. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but he didn’t think that awkwardly standing there, staring the man down, was conducive to settling his nerves.

Mr. Lancer’s gaze snapped up to meet his own. His eyes stretched wide, as if he hadn’t noticed Phantom’s presence until that moment, even though the ghost boy had just scooped him up before unceremoniously dropping him back down when the shield burst to life.

“Ph-Phantom?” he quavered.

“Yeah, um, who else?” Danny said, the words leaving his lips before he could think better of it. He cringed as soon as they did, chastising himself. It probably wasn’t a good time to make sarcastic jibes.

If Mr. Lancer noticed the snark, however, he didn’t comment on it. The toes of his shoes dug into the dirty linoleum on the elevator floor and he licked his lips nervously, eyes still darting around the cabin as though an exit might materialize from the ectoshield.

When he didn’t say anything, Danny felt like he needed to fill the silence. Anything to drown out the low hum of the ectoshield and the rapid hammer of Mr. Lancer’s frightened heartbeat.

“So, I know this looks bad but everything is going to be okay,” Danny said. His voice echoed in the small space, the tinny sound amplified by the metal around him.

Lancer just blinked, his pale green eyes, so much duller than Phantom’s own, stretched as wide as saucers.

“H–how can you be sure?” he said.

Danny’s eyes trailed around the elevator, ghosting over the green glare of the ectoshield. It completely covered the elevator box, though the floor of the shield had been thankfully recessed beneath the linoleum. 

Danny could still feel the hum it gave off through his boots.

“I’ll think of something,” he said, more to himself.

Mr. Lancer blanched, his face practically as pale as Danny’s hair. “Can’t you just—” the words died on his tongue as he glanced at the green shield once more, shivering slightly. 

“Yeah, the shield kind of complicates things,” Danny said with a sigh. “Not their best design choice.”

He didn’t have to elaborate on  whose design choice had crafted this coffin disguised as a convenient mode of transportation. 

Lancer let out a shaky breath. “It probably seemed more practical in theory,” he said, each word as shaky as his legs.

Danny nodded, crossing his arms. “Like, I can see what they were going for, but you’d think after over a year of help from a ghost they’d consider maybe— just  maybe  — that trapping people in a small ghost shield suspended three stories up  might not be a great idea.”

“Oh,  Watership Down,” Lancer said faintly, sliding slightly down the wall, leaning more heavily against the railing. Danny hadn’t realized just how much he was rambling, or how faint Lancer was looking in the wake of his ill-timed tirade.

“Sorry,” Danny said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Probably not the best time for that.”  

Lancer nodded, his eyes wide and staring at the floor. “Yes, I don’t think it is,” he said.

Danny let out a long, drawn out sigh. He ran a hand through his mop of white hair, trying and failing to focus his thoughts on anything constructive. He was uncomfortably aware of the small, tight space. Nothing quite as claustrophobic as the thermos, but without any sure way to escape it had Danny’s core thrumming uncomfortably. 

Lancer just stared at him. Danny couldn’t fault the man. For all that Mr. Lancer had seen of Phantom— considering the many times he had rocketed through his classroom wall— Danny supposed that this was probably his first time seeing Phantom up close. Danny could see his own glow reflected in his teacher’s eyes— or perhaps it was mostly the light that the ghost shield emitted.

“I don’t suppose you have a phone on you?” Danny asked him.

Considering Mr. Lancer hadn’t reached to grab one, he thought he already knew the answer…

Sure enough, Lancer replied with a hollow, “Left it in the car.”

Danny tried to strain his ears for any outside sounds, desperate to drag his focus off of the small confines of the elevator. He could hear the rumble of traffic, but not much else besides that. The concrete walls of the parking garage were too dense, and the buzz of the ghost shield too distracting.

“Looks like we might have to wait for someone then,”Danny said nervously, his eyes trailing to the buttons on the elevator. 

Moving slowly, careful not to startle Mr. Lancer, Danny crossed the short distance to those buttons. He was closer than Lancer was and his footsteps much lighter. The man tensed slightly as Danny moved, but didn’t say anything. 

A layer of the ghost shield danced over the buttons, a rippling wall of green that sparked with electricity. It had to be one of his parents’ newer shields, judging by the bright color and the intensity of the static it gave off. Just being near the thing had his own ectoplasm buzzing uncomfortably.

Danny glanced back at Lancer, finding his teacher’s eyes trained on him. There was fear there, though also a quiet curiosity. It reminded Danny that he hadn’t seen Mr. Lancer at his parents' last few ghost seminars. That, for all the nervous fear mongering his teacher had given into in those first few months after the portal sparked to life, he seemed… much more reserved now. He didn’t show the same open support for Phantom that his students did, but Danny would take reserved caution over open hostility any day.

Glancing back at the elevator buttons, Danny bit his lip. He couldn’t exactly ask Lancer to press the buttons himself. Even if he carried him, there was no saying if the elevator would shift again once he placed him back down. 

Steeling his nerves, Danny held out his finger for the emergency button on the control panel.

The ghost shield rejected his ectoplasm immediately, sending a current of electricity through his body in a painful jolt. Sparks shot out where his finger met the shield, and Danny could only watch in horror as those sparks tangled with the control panel itself. He could see the current race through the metal, rippling beneath the buttons in bright cracks and pops. 

One last spark ignited at the top and, with a loud crack, the lights of the elevator shut off.

Danny stumbled backwards as it happened, hardly stopping himself from careening into the opposite wall of the shield. In the absence of the elevator’s lights, the space was bathed in a sickly wash of green. 

Lancer swore again, the sound enough to have Danny spinning around to make sure he was okay. Lancer had crouched, both hands still held firmly onto the railing as he lowered himself to the elevator floor with shaking knees. At a glance, Danny could have mistaken him for a ghost with how the light of the ectoshield painted his skin.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, his voice sounding rather small, shaky with his building unease. 

He doubted that the elevator had put off much of a distress signal before it lit up like a Christmas tree.

Lancer just slowly shook his head, staring at something only he could see. He was practically sitting now, his hands shaking on the railing, barely able to hold on any longer. Thankfully, the elevator didn’t shift as he sank to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, glancing back at the elevator buttons. A thin line of smoke trailed from the emergency button, giving off an acrid scent that mixed with the ozone of the shield.

Lancer looked up at that, the sudden movement in his periphery causing Danny to snap his attention back to him. Danny was surprised to find his brows furrowed.

“What are you sorry for?�� Lancer croaked out.

Danny blinked. He stared. He looked between the buttons and Lancer, now shaking his own head. “I… broke the buttons?” he said, confused.

Surely Lancer hadn’t missed that lightshow.

Lancer’s brows drew so close together they nearly formed one line. His frown stretched almost as far, pulling at his black facial hair.

“You just hurt yourself trying to press it,” he said slowly.

Danny nodded his head, still unsure. “Yeah… and I broke it?”

If Lancer’s hands weren’t currently clutching onto the railing for dear life, Danny had a feeling they would find their way to pinch at his tear ducts— a gesture he often adopted when faced with a frustrating situation or student. 

“You… you knew the shield would hurt you and still tried to press that button,” Lancer said, his voice now tinged with exasperation. 

Danny’s own brows drew together, frustration drawing his teeth to clench. “ And  I said I was sorry,” he challenged.

It wasn’t his fault there was a ghost shield. It wasn’t his fault it tampered with the buttons. He’d  tried , and if Lancer couldn’t accept his apology, Danny wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

It’s not like he could storm off right now. Even if he could transform back, he had no way of knowing where the elevator was within the shaft, or how easily he could escape it without unsettling the delicate balance. 

Not that he could transform. Not here, not now.

Something strange ghosted across Lancer’s face, the expression hollow and haunted, shadowed oddly by the light from the shield; it glowed so brightly off of his bald head.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he said, his words hushed, echoing slightly in the enclosed space. “I’m not arguing with you, Phantom, I… Are you all right?”

The question came so out of left field it struck Danny dumb. He fidgeted uncomfortably, noticing for the first time that he was cradling his left hand in his right.

Glancing down, Danny saw that his glove had been singed by the contact with the ghost shield. Just like the buttons, it smoked faintly, revealing angry green flesh beneath.

He was shaking. When did he start shaking?

Clenching his hand into a fist, Danny thrust it behind his back and out of sight. “I’m fine,” he said, locking his eyes onto Lancer, as if challenging him to say otherwise.

That strange expression persisted on his teacher’s face. If Danny had to give it a name, he supposed the closest thing he could compare it to was pity. Something about that squeezed uncomfortably at his core.

Danny was used to breaking things, and he was even more used to being blamed for breaking things— whether he had a part in it or not. That button had been a lifeline, possibly the only real thing that could ensure Lancer a safe reunion with the ground…

Why wasn’t he angry?

An uncomfortable silence filled the elevator. Danny could hear a siren somewhere outside, though it sounded far too distant to be something headed their way. Danny had no way of knowing how long it would take for help to arrive, or if it even would in time.

Danny was still shaking. It had gotten worse, if anything. The glow of the ghost shield was too bright and the walls of the elevator too narrow. The tilt in the floor too drastic, the hum of the shield resonating too discordantly with his core.

Danny had crouched down too, though he couldn’t say when he sank to the floor. He hugged at his knees, suddenly very aware of the summer heat. The elevator had been stifling to begin with, devoid of fresh air and baked by the sun. The ghost shield didn’t help, putting off a crackling heat that seemed to sap the breath from his lungs. Breath he didn’t need but wanted.

When did his breathing get so heavy, anyway? “Phantom?” The voice was quiet, unsure. It sounded both miles away and entirely too close, whispering in his ear. 

Danny stared at his gloves. The shield painted them green, like fresh ectoplasm over his hands. His arm still stung from the shock— still buzzed with the latent energy it gave off.

A distant echo of something far worse that still clung to him, leaving fern-like marks that rippled up that same arm.

“Phantom?”

He was Phantom, wasn’t he? That was his name, but he didn’t feel much like anything right now. More smoke and mirror than boy or even ghost. Phantom was supposed to be a hero, not some child who sank to his knees with fear squeezing tight enough at his chest to burst.

“Phantom, are you okay?” Was he okay? What did it mean to be okay? When was the last time he really was okay?

Somewhere distant Danny knew he was spiraling. He could practically feel his own awareness slipping through his fingers, lost to that tidal wave of fear. 

“Breathe with me, okay?”

He didn’t need to breathe, but he still did— sucking down deep gulps of air, like some awful mockery of a fish gasping on the bank of a sun-baked river.

“In and out. Breathe with me, it’s okay.”

How many times had Jazz said those exact same words? They were practically ingrained in Danny’s psyche, as much a part of him as the hazmat suit had made itself, fused as it was to his ectoplasm.

“That’s it. In and out.”

When had he shut his eyes? For all the green staining his eyelids, they might as well still be open.

“You’re doing great. Just keep breathing.”

An odd thing to say to a ghost (not that Lancer knew the half of that), but not unappreciated. Air felt good, as humid and musty as it was. His core followed the pattern, practically imitating the humble tattoo of a heart.

He could hear a heartbeat too. Faster than his own, though slower and more timely than the pulse of a core. Human. Safe. 

Danny focused on the sound. It almost drowned out the hum around him. It almost was enough to lull him into a safe, comfortable rest.

Almost, but not quite. Not enough to completely dash the ever-present buzz of the shield beneath him, dragging Danny back to the coffin of an elevator and its lurid green light.

Slowly, Danny opened his eyes. The light of the shield was not particularly bright, but it still burned his retinas. The hum seemed louder now, the static of it buzzing against his skin and frayed nerves. He blinked owlishly, his eyes roving over the rippling walls of green—

They landed on the person sitting nearby.

Danny couldn’t help but flinch back, surprised by the close proximity. With how glued Lancer had been to the railing, he would not have expected the man to move, and yet…

Here he sat in the middle of the elevator in front of him. 

"Feeling better?" Lancer asked. He leaned away slightly from Danny, but did not make any retreat.

For a moment Danny wondered if he'd transformed. Why else would Lancer have risked shifting the elevator just to, what, comfort him?

Danny held up his hands, half-expecting to find human skin.

His eyes met the same pair of green-stained white gloves.

"That was quite the panic attack," Lancer said when Danny didn't answer. 

Panic attack… that was definitely the phrase for it. Danny could recognize the lingering fatigue and oversensitive nerves that followed one.

That spiraling sense of losing himself still lingered too, along with tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Sorry," was all Danny could think to say, wiping at his face.

"Why are you apologizing?"

It seemed like a genuine enough question, not that Danny felt he could give a genuine enough answer.

"Dunno," he said, hugging his knees more tightly, rubbing his good hand over the other. "Just seems like a pretty inconvenient time and place for a panic attack."

Of all the places he’d had a panic attack, this one maybe ranked a four out of ten. If he was being generous.

Lancer sighed. He settled down a bit beside him, though did not at all relax. Danny could see how his fingertips dug into the linoleum like cat claws desperately trying to find purchase on a branch.

“I don’t know that there’s ever a convenient time or place for them,” he mused.

Danny rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t be having one in the first place,” he muttered darkly.

Lancer’s brow quirked at that. “What makes you say that?” he asked.

Danny picked his head up off of his arms, glaring at the man. “I came here to save you, not to, what— have an impromptu therapy session? Whatever this is.” He gestured around the cabin of the elevator, as if this  whatever was some physical concept he could point to.

“Well, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, I think,” the teacher said. He didn’t look at Danny directly, his eyes trailing over the shut doors of the elevator. “Why not humor me?”

“I don’t feel like any jokes right now,” Danny quipped, pillowing his chin back on his arms.

Lancer chuckled, the sound odd and out of place in Danny’s ears. “No, I don’t suppose you would— frankly, I don’t either, but… humor me. Why don’t you feel like you can have a panic attack?”

Danny wasn’t sure when the script had flipped on him. It hadn’t been that long ago when Lancer was clinging to the railing, shouting in fear while Danny tried to weigh his options.

Now, sat on the grimy linoleum floor of the elevator, Lancer seemed remarkably calm and Danny… he felt remarkably small.

Smaller than usual.

He stubbornly wiped at his face again, hoping that no evidence of tears remained. Lancer might not know it was him, but he still didn’t want to be seen crying in front of his teacher. 

“I’m supposed to be a hero— and a ghost. Why should I have a panic attack over something like this?” he asked petulantly, digging his nails into his knees.

Lancer did not reply right away. He was quiet, seeming to pick his words very carefully before opening his mouth once more.

“Well, what is bothering you? Was it the shock from the shield?”

Danny’s eyes roved from Lancer to the buttons almost absently. He couldn’t tell if the shock was still reverberating through his ectoplasm, or if it was the mere memory now. The phantom feeling of the tide tugging at your waist while falling asleep after a day spent in the waves.

“I don’t… I don’t think so— I don’t know,” Danny stammered, his brows bunching together with frustration as he considered it. 

The glare of the ectoshield taunted him, rippling around him like light refracting through the water of a large aquarium.

“Is it something else?” Lancer asked gently.

Danny didn’t look at him. He stared at the buttons, transfixed. If he looked at them just the right way, they sort of formed an odd face with too many eyes. It reminded Danny of a ghost he saw once while lost in the zone, drifting a little too far past the Far Frozen’s snowy mountains.

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “It’s part of it, I guess, but… I mean the shield sucks, and it’s small in here and reminds me of the thermos, and it’s too hot for my core and—”

Danny stopped abruptly, his eyes locking onto Lancer’s, finding the man watching him with wide, fascinated eyes. It had his core stuttering uncomfortably and a blush rising to his cheeks, no doubt as green as the hazy light from the shield.

Ducking his head down into his knees, Danny muttered, “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

Another sigh from Lancer. He was doing that a lot today— he always did, really. “It sounds like you needed someone to talk to,” he mused.

Danny just shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. His face positively burned. “I have friends,” he mumbled.

“Are they who you usually talk to about these sort of things?”

Danny clamped his eyes shut tight, trying to calm the unsteady thrum of his core. “I guess,” he said dismissively.

A pause stretched between them and Lancer shuffled uncomfortably in it. Danny tensed as he did, worried the elevator might shift again, but it seemed as though it had found a solid place to rest in the shaft.

“Do you…” Lancer trailed off, sounding very unsure of the question lying on his tongue. 

When he didn’t continue, Danny cracked open one bright green eye. “Do I what?” he challenged, tensing himself for whatever question might follow.

The look Lancer gave him would not be out of place on someone who had just watched a sad commercial with sat wet dogs. “Do you… have any adults to talk to? Any ghosts that look after you?”

Whatever question Danny had been expecting, he hadn’t expected one to strike so surely at his core. It thrummed like the strings of a violin, magnified until it reverberated through his entire being. Danny wondered if Lancer might feel it through the floor, over the hum of the shield.

“What?” was all he could say. No other words would find their way to his lips. His mind had shut down, lingering on the question with an uneasy, empty feeling that resonated from his core and hollowed out his belly.

“Is there anyone that looks after you?” Lancer asked again, his tone firm but no less gentle for it.

Danny stared straight ahead, seeing nothing as he let the question turn in his mind. His first thought was of Jazz. Ever since she found out about him, she’d stepped up in ways he could not have hoped for or imagined. She kept the first aid kit stocked. She checked him over for injuries. Jazz asked Danny how he was feeling, and wouldn’t always let him get away with a dismissive answer. 

She’d even started to cook them breakfast these last few weeks. Her first few attempts were about as disastrous as their mother’s own cooking— no doubt unaided by the tainted ingredients— but she was getting better. She had a little fridge in her room now with ingredients kept far away from the lab samples, and for the first time in a long while Danny was remembering what eggs tasted like without the acidic bite of ectoplasm.

Danny opened his mouth to give Lancer an affirmative answer, but froze when the man’s first question rang in his ears.

“Do you… have any adults to talk to?”

A stone dropped into Danny’s belly as he realized with a sick sense of dread just how much Jazz had risen to the forefront of his mind as a caretaker, completely eclipsing their parents.

Danny’s mouth was dry as he swallowed a lump in his throat. He could feel Lancer’s eyes burning into him as he took far too long to answer— his silence about as much of an answer as anything else, really.

“Y–yes,” Danny said, though his shaky words hardly convinced himself.

They certainly didn’t seem to convince Lancer, either. His brow quirked slightly before he schooled his features into a softer expression. “Do you?” he pressed.

Danny nodded, even as his mind spiraled once more, wallowing through a current of memories. He tried to think of the last time he felt comfortable talking to his parents, but only flashes of uncomfortable silences and nervous lies came to mind. He tried to think of the last time he felt safe in their care, but only the memory of dodging weapons and hiding injuries swam to the forefront of that current.

At some point Danny’s nod turned into a tilt— a shake. He was shaking his head, ever so slightly. His core squeezed and fresh tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

Lancer sighed yet again, the sound bone-weary and deep with exhaustion. “Where do you go when you’re not in Amity?” he asked. “Where do you stay?”

It was too personal of a question, one that Danny never would have thought to answer from a civilian. He’d been asked so many things by the people of Amity— shouted questions of his death and of his life before then. Each grated at his nerves and his core with an unrivaled discomfort, never something he would think to acknowledge with more than a joke, at most.

Yet… Danny didn’t resent the question coming from Lancer. It didn’t upset him, not in the way it normally did. The discomfort was there, but it had more to do with his own uncertain answer than the fact that Lancer had dared to ask the question in the first place.

It was Danny’s turn to sigh now, feeling his entire body sag into the motion as he hugged his knees still tighter, practically phasing them into his torso.

All he could do was shrug.

He knew where Danny Fenton went at night, but Phantom didn’t exactly have a place to rest his head. 

Lancer shuffled a bit closer until he was sitting directly beside Danny. He didn’t scoot away, almost welcoming his presence.

“I won’t pretend to know what it’s like being in your shoes,” Lancer began, his eyes locked onto Danny as he spoke, “but I’m here to talk if you ever need someone to be there.”

Danny blinked, staring. He hardly knew what to say— could hardly find any words in his head. After a pause, all that would come out was a hesitant, “Yeah?”

Lancer smiled, the gesture small as it tugged at his lips. “Yes. I’m a teacher and part of my job is to be there for my students.” 

Danny frowned at the word. “I’m not one of your students, though,” he said defensively, shuffling his feet. “I’m just a ghost.”

For one gut-wrenching moment Danny wondered if Lancer had figured him out. He couldn’t imagine how. His ghost form changed too much, both impacted by the ectoplasm in his system and by his own thoughts, as Frostbite once explained to him. The sharpened ears, the greenish tint of his skin— the broader shoulders and squared chin, more masculine than he dared hope for.

Even just the glow was enough to throw his features into a differing relief, but above it all there was one factor that Danny knew kept his identity safe:

The difference between flesh and ectoplasm. Life and death. Why ever assume something that breathed would also harbor something as innate to death as a core?

(Nevermind that he had been breathing this entire time, not that he needed it as he was.)

Yet if Lancer noticed the breathing or somehow made that leap of logic that saddled the line between life and death as surely as Danny did himself, he didn’t show it. He simply smiled sadly, meeting Phantom’s eyes with a kindness he rarely had shown to him in this form.

“Maybe not, but you must have been a student in this town at some point,” he said, his eyes trailing to his hands in his lap, fingers nervously rubbing his knuckles. “I might not be an expert on ghosts, but after teaching for as long as I have, I’d like to think that I know a thing or two about teenagers. You stay in this town enough that it must have been your home— that it must still be.”

He wasn’t wrong, of course. Mr. Lancer didn’t know the details, but his words rang truer than he knew. They echoed in Danny’s mind, as hollow and uncomfortable as they were right. 

Amity was Phantom’s home. It was his home.

Just hearing someone who wasn’t Sam, Tucker, or Jazz acknowledge that had the tears pricking at Danny’s eyes spilling over.

A hand tentatively patted his shoulder and Danny leaned into the touch, finding more peace in it than he thought he should.

A peace that, like many good things, did not last very long.

A familiar siren cut through the concrete, the sound grating at Danny’s frayed nerves with a fresh onslaught of fear. He couldn’t help but jolt at the sound, jumping into the air where he hovered, staring at the elevator doors.

“Phantom?” Lancer asked nervously.

The siren practically echoed in his skull, the sound far too familiar and far too disquieting. How many times had he heard it barreling towards a ghost attack, knowing that its presence would only complicate the battle? How many times had he been glad for the warning, if only so he could escape?

There was no escape right now, however. No way for him to slip out of sight, either through the walls of the elevator or into his own human skin. He couldn’t transform, not with Lancer right next to him and his secret already hanging by a gnawed thread.

Mr. Lancer must have heard the siren himself now, judging by the way his eyes moved from Phantom to the elevator doors. Danny couldn’t help but notice that his eyes brightened with relief.

“Lord of the Flies, it sounds like someone’s finally coming,” he said, that same relief carried on a much more relaxed sigh.

Danny bit his lip, unable to answer. He didn’t resent Mr. Lancer’s joy at hearing the siren, though it did come as a dark contrast to his own roiling emotions. 

“I don’t think they’re here to help,” he mumbled darkly, unable to suppress the resentment in his tone as he glared at the ectoshield warping over the elevator doors. “Not met at least.”

Danny heard Lancer suck in a sharp breath of air. He turned at the sound, finding his teacher watching him with renewed concern in his eyes. “They wouldn’t…” he said slowly, his own words trailing off as doubt crept into his tone.

Danny nodded. “They must’ve gotten some sort of alert when this thing went off,” he said, gesturing to the shield. 

“But they wouldn’t… you’re not…” Lancer tried again, his words no less convinced the second time around as he trailed off, his eyes widening when they fixed on the door.

The siren was so close now, echoing around the elevator. Each blaring note of the sound had Danny’s ears ringing and his core stuttering violently with fear. He absently drifted farther away from the elevator doors, watching them warily.

“If I could just explain to them—”

This time Lancer’s words were cut off as a loud, booming voice shouted. It came from somewhere overhead, echoing down the elevator shaft.

“Is there anyone in there!” the unmistakable voice of Jack Fenton boomed. “Our sensors detected that a ghost triggered our shield. Is the ghost subdued? Are any humans trapped?”

Danny stared, wide-eyed up at the elevator ceiling. He sank back down onto the floor, cowering as he heard what sounded like metal grinding as someone tried to force it apart.

His eyes flickered to Lancer, watching uncertainly as the man gaped at the ceiling. He had to be frighteningly aware of his precarious position in the elevator. Jack Fenton’s voice, though it sent fear rocketing through Danny’s core, must’ve sounded like freedom and safety to Lancer in that moment.

And yet… his eyes trailed back to Danny with  uncertainty. 

It was disquieting, seeing that expression on that face of a man trapped in an elevator shaft, who for all intents and purposes should have welcomed any offer of rescue with the widest embrace.

Yet Danny thought back to Lancer’s words as he calmed him down from his panic attack. He thought of his hand gently patting Danny’s shoulder, soothing him as he cried. He thought of how Lancer, once he pushed his own fear aside, had shown nothing but kindness and fear  for him, not of.

He had called Phantom his student. Had called Amity his home. 

“Is anyone down there!” Jack Fenton called again, the sound of metal shifting accompanying his voice once more. 

In that moment, Danny knew that he would have one of two options. There was no way his parents would disable the ectoshield without first making sure that no ghosts lingered invisibly within it. As Phantom, he was trapped, resigned to being seen. Cornered.

If his parents caught Phantom now in this position, Danny’s only option would be to try and explain himself and hope that they might understand. Pray that they wouldn’t assume he was overshadowed and give him a fraction of a chance.

But… Danny had another option. 

Looking at Lancer, finding him nervously staring up at the ceiling, Danny weighed that second option. 

He weighed Lancer’s words, the kind admissions of  home  and  student nestling comfortably in his core.

It was a leap of faith, and one Danny probably shouldn’t feel more secure in than his parents, and yet… When was the last time he felt safe around an adult?

Here, in an elevator, trapped with a man who had shown him more humanity in the last five minutes than an entire town had in a year.

The choice was clear to Danny.

“Mr. Lancer,” Danny began, his voice timorous and too small. His teacher’s eyes locked onto him at the sound.

“Y–yes?” he asked just as quietly, bewildered. 

Of course, he had never given Phantom his name.

Danny licked his lips. His breath caught in his throat as the metal shifted overhead again and he had to shut his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to steady his nerves.

“I am one of your students.”

When the man didn’t reply, Danny slowly opened his eyes, finding Lancer shaking his head, his eyes never once leaving Danny.

“I… don’t follow,” he said.

More metal shifting overhead. Something heavy thumped. Danny’s core pulsed and his hands shook.

“I—I am one of your students,” he repeated, hardly more than a whisper. “Y–you taught me last year, and I wasn’t the best student but… but you helped me— then and now. And I… I’m afraid, but I want to trust you.”

The words tumbled out, a flood breaking through the dam as more tears slipped down Danny’s cheeks. He could hear talking above now, though the words were lost to the hum around him and the awful buzz still dancing through his ectoplasm.

Lancer was breathing heavily now. He looked at Phantom as though seeing him for the first time, his eyes stretching wide as saucers, capturing enough of the green light around them that they almost mimicked his own.

“D–Danny?” he said in a hushed tone.

The last bit of stone that held that flood back shattered. Tears dripped down Danny’s chin and he nodded, every inch of him shaking at that mere admittance. 

He hardly even had to reach for his core. The transformation came to him too quickly, rolling over him in a warm rush that banished the chilliest parts of his core to rest within his chest. He watched the gloves disappear, the bright green scars over his hand fading to white. The lichtenberg figures were faint, though now he could properly see their winding course over his wrist and under the hem of his red sweatshirt. White as they were, the sickly glow of the shield stained the scars just as green as his gloves had been.

“Danny…” Lancer said again, the sound choked in his throat. 

Danny hardly dared glance up, terrified of what he might find on his teacher’s face. Disgust? Disappointment? Fear?

He half expected Lancer to call a warning to his parents.

Danny looked up when the elevator groaned, startled as he felt it shift slightly and heard an alarmed sound from overhead. 

Lancer was looking at him still, but it wasn’t with any of the fear that Danny had expected. It was tired— sad. Sorrow. The man had shifted slightly where he sat, trying to reach out for him, but had frozen when the elevator shifted. Now he simply sat there, watching Danny with that somber expression.

Danny couldn’t tell if it was just the green light, but he thought he saw the pinprick of tears in his teacher’s eyes.

Dust rained down as something overhead shifted. For the first time since the buttons sparked, light that wasn’t green flooded the elevator as one of the ceiling tiles moved. 

Maddie Fenton’s red-lensed goggles swam into view. Danny hated that his first instinct at seeing them was to cower, fear coursing through him at seeing those lenses reflecting the green of the ghost shield.

But if Maddie knew something of Danny’s secret, it didn’t carry into the surprised gasp she gave as her eyes locked onto him.

“Danny! I— what are you doing here? How did—” the words caught in her throat and she gave a minute shake of her head, seeming to come back to where they were. 

“Mads?” Danny heard his father’s voice from behind her, echoing in the expanse of the elevator shaft.

Danny hardly heard them as Maddie explained the situation to her husband. He hardly noticed when more of the panels were pulled away and a rope ladder was lowered into the elevator.

When Lancer urged him to climb up it first, he had to tell Danny twice before a fraction of the words made it to his ears. He moved mechanically, his legs shaking as the elevator groaned when he tentatively stood and clutched the ropes.

He paused for a moment when he met the roof of the ectoshield. Even in their rescue, his parents hadn’t deigned to disable the device, though he was sure they could. Danny’s core buzzed uncomfortably as he passed through the wall of green, but it allowed his passage without the sparking jolt that had bit at his hand.

When Jack pulled Danny up with enough force to almost yank his arm from the socket, he allowed himself to be pulled into a tight embrace. He melted into it for a moment before his father had to shift his focus to Lancer, still trapped as he was in the elevator shaft.

Danny could only wait with bated breath as they pulled him up.

He watched as Lancer stumbled out onto the floor of the parking garage, blinking dazedly in the sunlight that filtered through the open windows. 

How strange that it was still daylight.

Danny waited, still feeling sure that he had made a mistake— that any moment now Lancer would speak up and spill the truth.

Those thoughts fled his mind when Mr. Lancer’s eyes locked onto him. There really were tears there, welling onto his lashes, brightening the green of his eyes with emotion. 

He didn’t speak, just watching quietly.

With both of them secured, Maddie pulled Danny into a hug of her own. She held him tight, asking if he was hurt and smiling proudly at him when he put on a brave face and told her he was fine. 

A fraction of that smile even felt real, basking in his mother’s warmth and concern. 

It died a little when she said, “We need to scope the area for whichever ghost triggered the shield. If a ghost is willing to tamper with these cables, there’s no telling what other sort of harm they might cause.”

She whipped around to Lancer, the man straightening as her eyes fell on him. For all her short stature, Maddie could be an intimidating, intense ball of fire.

“Did you see anything? Did you hear anything that might help us locate this ghost?” she asked him.

Mr. Lancer blanched, his mouth opening and closing— eyes skirting minutely to Danny as he failed to give her a proper answer.

After a moment, he simply shook his head. Danny felt some of the tension leaving his shoulders, though he still didn’t dare let himself fully relax.

Maddie frowned, disappointment clear in her own slackened shoulders as she sighed. She glanced between her husband and Danny, her expression softening slightly as it landed on him, before fixing her lavender eyes once more on Lancer.

“I hate to ask this of you, William, but would you be willing to take Danny home? I know that you two have been through a lot this evening, but we can’t let this go uninvestigated. If there’s a dangerous ghost lurking in the area, we need to find it before it truly hurts someone.”

Her tone was so sincere, each of her words dripping with resolve. 

Lancer just gaped at her, looking between mother and son with utter disbelief.

“I—” he paused, glancing at Danny, looking at him with the same intensity he had before calling his name in that elevator shaft. “Yes.”

Maddie positively beamed, relief and admiration evident in her tone as she said, “Thank you so much; you have no idea how much this means to us.”

Mr. Lancer just nodded stiffly, standing to the side as Maddie pulled Danny into one last hug and kissed his forehead.

His skin burned where her lips touched. His chest felt hollowed out, his core thrumming slightly.

Something colder than the core in his chest ghosted over Danny’s skin when she let him go, turning back towards the elevator shaft to join the investigation with her husband.

Danny stared after them for a long moment, watching as she fell into the task without so much as a glance backwards. 

He wiped at his forehead, still feeling the burn of her touch.

Another sigh behind him, longer and deeper than any Danny had heard that evening. He turned to find Lancer standing there awkwardly, wringing his hands with a nervous energy that he rarely saw adults let show.

“Let’s… let’s go then, shall we?” he said quietly.

Danny sighed too. He resisted the urge to glance back at the elevator shaft, already knowing that his parents were too absorbed in their work to notice. 

For all the deep fear he’d felt at their arrival, this hollow ache was deeper.

“Y–yeah,” Danny said, swallowing against the tightness of his throat. “Okay.”

Danny didn’t even know why Lancer was in the parking deck that day, and he didn’t necessarily want to ask. The thought of inconveniencing the man from an errand he needed to run would just be one too many awful weights on his shoulders today. Instead, he just followed his teacher to his beat-up silver car, quietly climbing into the passenger seat.

Lancer climbed in on the driver side just as quietly. He didn’t even buckle his seatbelt at first. Didn’t start the car. He simply stared through the windshield, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel as he sat there and breathed.

Danny picked at the hem of his sweatshirt, lost for words. He couldn’t help but notice the phone lying beside him on the console between the seats.

“Are you alright?” Mr. Lancer asked him. His voice didn’t echo in the car like it had in the elevator, but he still flinched at the sudden sound.

Slowly, nervously, Danny met his eyes again, peering at the man through his bangs. “I guess.”

Lancer’s face crumpled slightly, pinched with sadness, but he nodded. Without saying another word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. The car roared into life a moment later, and a moment after they were off.

As they rounded the spiral of the parking garage, Danny found his eyes trailing out the window, locking onto the open doors of the elevator shaft. He could see the bright orange of his father’s hazmat suit, though couldn’t spot his mother before the car rounded the turn, leaving them behind. 

Danny’s core squeezed alongside his heart.

Lancer turned the radio up, seemingly needing something to fill the silence, but lowered it just as quickly when the broadcast that filtered through the radio mentioned ghosts within the first breath of the speaker.

They continued on in awkward silence, Danny’s eyes glued to the window but unseeing anything past it.

“They don’t know, I assume.”

Danny had hoped that Mr. Lancer might not acknowledge the ghostly elephant in the room, but he supposed, like with all things, he was never that lucky.

Danny didn't bother to look at the man, choosing instead to just stiffly nod his head.

Another sigh. One too many, enough to grate at Danny’s nerves, but not enough for him to snap at it.

His belly felt too hollowed out for that anger now.

“You… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Lancer then said, carefully picking around the words like someone navigating a minefield. “You don’t have to tell me anything, really.”

“I know,” Danny said, allowing some bite to enter his words. He needed some measure of control over this situation in which he had practically none to speak of.

In his periphery, Danny could see Lancer nod his own head as he said, “I meant what I said back in the elevator— to Phantom. To you.”

That was enough to make Danny turn his head. He wasn’t sure what street they were on, only that it was a long one with too many stop lights. They’d stopped at each along the way, agonizingly dragging out the drive.

“Meant what?”

As they stopped at another light, Lancer turned his head to look at Danny. His eyes still seemed bright with emotion, though what tears had gathered in his eyes had disappeared. 

“That if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. You are my student, after all.”

Danny bit his lip. He searched Lancer’s eyes, trying to find any hint of a lie or deceit, but Mr. Lancer truly seemed as sincere now as he had been stuck in that elevator shaft.

“It… doesn’t bother you that I’m a ghost?” he asked him.

There had to be a catch— there had to be a limit to this kindness and Danny would rather find it now than later.

Mr. Lancer’s frown deepened at the word ‘ghost’, but it quirked up into a small smile just as quickly. 

“And my student,” he repeated gently. “And a kid, just like any one of my other students.”

Lancer’s smile was wry, hardly there, but it warmed him to see it at all. His voice echoed in Danny’s head as they drove on, the silence feeling much less daunting with those kind words occupying his thoughts.

Lancer seemed to hesitate for a moment before they turned onto Danny’s street. He hesitated another moment before pulling the car up alongside the sidewalk.

His knuckles were bone-white on the steering wheel, every inch of his posture as tense as Danny’s felt, like a cord ready to snap.

Danny didn’t get out of the car at first. He just sat there, staring at the red brick building of FentonWorks and the glaring neon signs over the door. His eyes skirted up to the Ops Center, the shadow looming over him a fiendish thing.

Danny was glad when Lancer did not immediately oust him from the car. He needed that moment to just sit and breathe. To have a space, however fragile, where he felt like he might have someone in his corner who was older than sixteen.

“You would… you really wouldn’t tell my parents?” Danny asked, hardly daring to speak the words allowed. Terrified that he might get confirmation of his worst fears.

Lancer’s eyes widened. He slowly shook his head, mouth slightly slack-jawed.

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “No, not…” He actually did pinch his tear ducts this time, in that familiar gesture he hadn’t been able to back in the elevator. “Pride and Prejudice, Danny, I know when a student is afraid of their parents. I’ve… I’ve seen it before. Not like this, never like this, but still…”

He trailed off, looking ahead, swallowing a lump in his throat as he gathered more of his thoughts. 

“Danny…” he began again, the word quavering. “I don’t know how to help you with this. I… I just need you to promise me that you’ll do your best to be safe. That you’ll do the smart thing and ask for help when you need it. That if your parents hurt you…”

He trailed off again, shaking his head. Danny’s parents had already hurt him, they both knew this. It wasn’t an if, it was a when and an again.

“I’ll be careful,” Danny tried to reassure him. “I–I have Jazz, and Sam, and Tucker. They know. They know and they help me, and I trust them.”

He hoped that those words might quell some of Mr. Lancer’s doubts, but Danny’s core thrummed uneasily when his teacher’s eyes just widened with renewed horror.

The man slowly shook his head, a trembling hand rubbing at the bags beneath his eyes.

“You’re all just kids,” he said quietly.

It was true, technically, but Danny hadn’t felt like much of one over the last few months. He had too many responsibilities as Phantom— had seen and faced too many things.

“We can handle it,” he said, trying to reassure himself as much as Mr. Lancer.

He wasn’t sure it worked either way.

Danny glanced back to FentonWorks, his hand tracing the handle of the car door. “Um, thank you for taking me home, Mr. Lancer,” he said, his throat still tight. “And, uh, for everything else.”

Mr. Lancer just nodded. He seemed so tired, the bags beneath his eyes deeper and darker than Danny’s own. His teacher said nothing as he opened the door and climbed out, though seemed to find his voice as Danny went to shut it.

“Wait—” he said suddenly, holding out his hand. 

Reluctantly, Danny pulled the door open wider, leaning down to hear what he had to say. 

Mr. Lancer studied him for a long moment, eyes flickering over his face as though searching for a hint of Phantom’s glow in his irises. 

“My door is always open if you need someone to talk to,” he said evenly. “Whatever happens, that doesn’t change.”

Danny blinked, letting his words sink in. He could feel the sincerity in them and, after everything that had happened today, Danny felt he had very little reason to doubt his teacher.

Nodding, voice still hoarse with emotion, Danny said, “Okay.”

 ~*~

 William did not drive off right away. He allowed his car to idle as he watched Danny Fenton walk up the sidewalk and the steps to his front door. The boy knocked, waiting for a response inside. There was a long pause in which nothing seemed to happen and William was just considering rolling down the window to call out to the boy when he glanced back at him.

William’s heart leapt into his throat as Danny’s eyes met his. Even from a distance, he could see a sharp hint of green in them, the same shade he had grown accustomed to in his time trapped in that elevator. He watched with bated breath as Danny’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment before sweeping up and down the street. 

William’s hands tightened on the steering wheel when Danny turned around and stepped  through his front door as if it simply wasn’t there.

William let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, a shaky exhale that hardly did the stress of the day any justice.

With one last glance at FentonWorks, finding a simple wooden door where Danny had stood just a moment before, William drove away.

 ~*~

 William stood in the entrance to his apartment for a long moment. Just stood there, hardly acknowledging when his cat came to greet him, brushing up against his ankles with a friendly meow.

He stiffly bent to stroke a hand through his fur, the soft texture feeling stiff and coarse against his numb skin.

Moving mechanically, William shuffled through the kitchen as he set a kettle on the stove to boil. He wasn't even sure how long the kettle whistled before it was enough to shake him from the stupor of staring into open space.

Even once he had his cup of tea, Lancer couldn't stop shaking. He sank down into his favorite armchair by his favorite shelf of books, eyeing the light brown tea in his cup without drinking.

He thought of Danny all the while— of Phantom. Of how long the ghost boy has been in Amity Park and what that must mean for his student.

It had been a year ago, William recalled clearly. A year ago when all of the ghosts appeared— Phantom included.

That must have been when…

A drop fell into William's cup of tea. He watched the ripples as more tears rolled down his cheeks.

His hand shook violently, splashes of the tea spilling into his lap, and William had to set the cup down on the end table beside his chair.

A year. His student had been dead for a year and he hadn't even noticed.

His parents hadn’t, either.

William didn't even want to think what had caused it. Didn't want to imagine what horrors that boy had faced, because he could already picture, far too clearly, plenty of them.

How many times had he watched Phantom fight? 

All of the absences, all of the behavioral issues. Everything fell into place, a gruesome puzzle that William had never known needed solved.

He thought, too, of the boy's parents.

How many times had he watched the Fentons shoot at Phantom, aiming their guns without so much as a moment's hesitation?

William hardly noticed when his cat approached, giving a small meow as he butted his head into his hand and slowly picked his way into his lap. When Radio began to purr, the feeling that rumbled through his body was achingly similar to what William had felt from Phantom when he broke down.

When Danny, his student, broke down.

If Radio minded the tears splashing into his fur, he didn't care to move. He simply stuck there, rumbling away in William's lap, heedless of the emotions choking his chest.

William didn't know how long he sat there, mindlessly running his hand through Radio's ginger fur, allowing the cat’s purring to still the last few trembles in his fingers.

William didn't know what he'd do when the summer ended and he had to face that boy every day, knowing just why he raced from his classroom.

All William knew was that he'd keep his cellphone on him this time, always ready to answer just in case that boy needed his help. 

If anyone needed that kindness, it was him.

[lexosaurus]

stained teeth leave the aftertaste of rot (part 1)

Here is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I was soooo pumped to get an art from @antleredweirdo which you can see [right here] (plz look at it cuz im VERY normal about this art piece)

Thank you so much to @lexiepiper and @ghostlyglimmer for betaing!

Characters: Danny Fenton Tags/warnings: minor character death, gore, ghost hunger Summary: Danny was just sick. It was probably some sort of ghost flu that was making his body heavy, his stomach hollow, and his eyes burn with fatigue. There was no way he was—no, he wasn't going to think about that. He wasn't. In the darkest corner of the room, something shifted.

[read on ao3]

[part 2] [part 3]

****

Danny sat behind his desk, staring listlessly out the window with heavy, half-lidded eyes. Sun beamed down from the cloudless sky, deceptively bright against the fresh spring air. The weather would warm soon, and birds would return from their winter flight to chirp from their tiny branches, but not yet. Not this early into the season.

He tapped his finger against his chin out of time with the droning rhythm of Mr. Lancer’s lecture, the motion about all he could muster to stay awake. His elbow supported his sagging body, nearly numb from the pressure of the desk. But he couldn't find it in him to care.

When he blinked, his eyes burned with sleep. They protested when he opened them, and really, it was so tempting to let his fatigue win. All he wanted was to let his head collapse on his desk, fold his arms into a soft pillow, and rest.

But he'd promised his parents he would try to do better in school this semester. Last fall had been more than a disaster, and if he repeated that again, he would have to do credit recovery over the summer. The last thing Danny wanted—or any teen for that matter—was to do more school over the summer.

So, he forced his head to turn to face the teacher and fought each lagging, burning blink as he pretended to at least appear like he was paying attention.

Even if behind him, his friends knew that he would be copying their notes later.

It wasn't his fault he was so tired. He was probably coming down with something. He didn't think he could get human illnesses, but that must have been what was happening because there was simply no other way to explain this sort of weakness that ached deep in his bones. How despite sleeping well the past week, each day his body felt more drained than the last.

Finally, finally, the bell rang. He stuffed his unopened notebook in his bag, nearly forgetting to zip it up before he tossed it over his shoulder, and dragged his useless body and feet forward, red shoes plodding one step in front of the other as he made his way to the door.

"Man, what a drag," Tucker said, falling in step beside him.

Danny had almost forgotten that Tucker was in that class too.

"I thought Lancer was gonna go on yapping forever." Tucker nudged him with his elbow. "Thought you were gonna nap at least five times, too. Seriously, you good? You look like you’re about to fall over."

"Yeah, fine," Danny said on reflex, then grimaced, amending with, "Kind of tired, actually."

"How many times have I told you to call us if the ghosts won't let up? We're your backup, dude!"

Danny stopped before his locker, phasing his hand through his lock and popping it open. Last fall, this sort of small, public usage of his powers would have been unthinkable. But he'd long since realized that one of the benefits of being invisible in the social hierarchy of school was, well, that he was invisible.

"It wasn't even a ghost this time. I think I'm just getting a cold."

Tucker leaned against a scratched red locker, folding his arms and pulling out his brick-like phone. One of those cases that doubled as an external battery, he'd said. To Danny, it just looked like one of Skulker's projectiles.

"You can get colds?" Tucker scrolled through what Danny could only assume was one of the many encrypted files he'd stolen from Vlad on halfa biology.

"Well, I don't know what else to call this."

"I do." Tucker clicked his phone off. "It's called wearing yourself out! Honestly, Danny, call us every once in a while."

Well, Danny couldn't exactly blame Tucker for not believing him about the ghosts actually letting him sleep for once. He tried rubbing the weariness from his eyes and grumbled, "Fine."

"I mean, seriously. I get that we can't fly or anything, but Sam and I are great with a gun. You know this."

"Yeah, I know."

"What are we mad at Danny about?" A voice piped up behind him.

Danny slammed his locker shut. "Nothing!"

"The usual," Tucker answered.

"Oh." Sam popped out beside him, slugging her ratty purple spider bag over a cropped black band hoodie. She tilted her head, and black hair fell onto her shoulders. "You didn't call us for backup again? Seriously?"

"No!"

Tucker ignored him, pushing himself off the locker to tap Sam's shoulder. "And get this! This idiot tried to tell me he's getting a cold."

"That's a bad lie, even for you."

"I'm not lying! I didn't fight a single ghost last night!" His protest was slightly louder than he'd intended it to be, and he could see the awkward glances from his classmates beside him, their judgment so loud he could almost hear them thinking about what a lame weirdo he was.

Ancients, this was really not a good day.

He lowered his voice. "Seriously, guys, I'm just tired. That's all. I've been feeling this way all week."

Sam and Tucker exchanged an agonizingly long glance.

"Really," he insisted.

Then, surprisingly, Sam was the first to break the silent exchange, rolling her eyes to look over at Danny. "Okay, fine. But seriously, if you have another busy night, then call us, okay? That's what we're here for."

"Sure."

"Now, come on!" Sam spun on her heel and began walking down the hall. "If we don't get to gym on time, Tetslaff is gonna make us run laps again!"

"Right behind you!" Tucker yelled, following after her.

Danny watched them from behind, his feet too heavy to try to play catch-up. There had been a blissful minute at his locker where he'd forgotten he had gym next. But, of course, that fantasy couldn't last forever, and now it was time for Dash and his cronies to pelt dodgeballs at him, or whatever other misery they'd think of.

Great, amazing. Just what the doctor ordered.

Part of him almost wished a ghost would appear out of thin air just so he'd have an excuse to skip. But, of course, the universe loved working against him.

Students passed by him in a blur, their voices twisting and swaying into a kaleidoscope of sound that evolved with each thundering footstep, each turn around the corner of another hall. His stomach panged. Not with hunger, or really with pain, but...something else. Something he couldn't quite place.

Maybe he was getting a ghostly illness? He hadn't ever heard of such a thing before, but it wasn't as though he had a plethora of ghost friends to ask questions to. Vlad certainly would never give him a heads-up about anything that would deter Danny from needing to grovel at his feet about later. 

But he did feel weird. And considering his baseline levels were already what a doctor might call both "weird" and "extremely concerning—Mrs. Fenton, how is your son even alive—" this was very likely to be something ghostly in nature. Maybe an ecto-flu.

Hopefully.

****

"Oh yeah, and why not?" The ghost sneered, his gray skin crinkling around acid-green eyes.

"Because!" Danny threw his hands up. "I've told you! You can't just start terrorizing people every time Kitty gets mad at you!"

Johnny 13 rolled his eyes in a cartoonishly exaggerated manner as if making sure Danny wouldn't miss it.

"I'm being serious. You know this."

"Yeah, yeah." Johnny folded his arms against the handlebars of his bike and leaned forward. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do? She left me, man. And she sounded really serious this time! I can't just let some punk take my girl!"

She wasn't being serious this time, Danny knew. Ghosts were nothing if not creatures of habit. Which meant, unfortunately, they were going to be having this fight and conversation again in another month.

That also meant that Danny had answered this question so many times before, he all but had a scripted response. "Maybe start by apologizing to her?"

"I can't just apologize to her for taking care of my bike! Kitty always wants to go on rides when my bike needs a bit of attention. Don't get me wrong, I love Kitty, but I love my bike too, and I godda make sure that girl is all taken care of so that Kitty and I can go on our rides across the Realms."

"Maybe, then, you can start by not calling your bike a girl."

"No way! I'm not riding a dude."

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. Ancients, this was why he needed to stick to the script. "Well, I don't know, man. Just apologize to her anyway. You know Kitty! That's really all she wants."

Johnny 13 muttered under his breath, shifting his weight on his bike. Shadow appeared from under him—a little smaller than before, now that Danny had worn him out from the fight—and began curling up his legs and around his waist. He didn't speak, and Danny wasn't really sure if he could, but somehow, Johnny always seemed to know what he was saying anyway.

"Yeah, that really hurt by the way."

It took Danny a second to realize that Johnny was talking to him.

"You nailed my back with your stupid ice spikes."

"Well, you started terrorizing the public!" Danny shot back.

"Yeah, but I didn't try to stab anyone. Unlike you, Mr. Hero Shtick over there."

"Unleashing Shadow on a group of middle schoolers almost counts as the same thing."

Johnny raised a brow at him. "Middle schoolers? They can take it."

"Whatever!" Danny snapped. It was useless to try to argue with Johnny about what constituted a public nuisance anyway. "I didn't even hit you that hard."

"Yeah, you did." Johnny swiped a hand behind his shoulder and hissed. "Ugh—I'm fucking bleeding! You got through the leather and everything, asshole!"

Shadow made a throaty, warbling sound from beside him.

"Yeah, I know!" Johnny nodded furiously, apparently agreeing.

Shadow warbled again, and Johnny laughed sardonically in return.

Danny sighed, not knowing nor caring about whatever insult Shadow had just slung at him. He floated closer to Johnny, his tail lazily flicking under him. "Come on, let me see that."

"No way!" Johnny leaned away from Danny's outstretched arm.

They'd played this song and dance too many times before for Danny to back down now. "If you let me patch you up and go to the portal willingly, I won't suck you into the thermos. Then you'll have all day to find Kitty—who's probably in Ember's lair—and you can apologize to her and she'll instantly forgive you and then you two can go ride on your bikes into the sunset like every cheesy movie from the seventies. Doesn't that sound great?"

Johnny frowned, his blonde brows pinching together, and eyed Danny suspiciously.

But Danny meant it. He truly did. More than anything, he just wanted Johnny 13 and Shadow to go back to the Zone.

It was another win for Danny. He swooped behind Johnny and prepped some ecto-ice under his skin. He’d discovered that not only did the frost act as an adhesive to stop minor bleeding, but that other ghosts could slowly absorb the ecto-energy to speed up their own healing processes.

But then, he caught sight of Johnny's shoulder.

And froze.

It wasn't that it was a horrendous, gruesome mess that had Danny wondering how Johnny was still standing. In fact, there was hardly anything there at all compared to what Danny was used to seeing on himself. The leather had torn where an ice spike had hit him, and a small trickle of ectoplasm was leaking through.

But despite having seen the slow trickle of ectoplasm from scrapes and gashes a hundred times before, Danny still lurched back.

Because something was wrong.

The ectoplasm didn't look like ectoplasm anymore. It sparkled like a jewel and glittered like a mound of sugary syrup. It wasn't just ectoplasm, it looked...

It looked...

"Kid?" Johnny's voice snapped him out of his head.

Danny started, flushing as he realized in embarrassment, he'd begun to flair his aura.

Jesus, what the hell was that about? Maybe he really was under some sort of ghost cold or something.

"Sorry," he managed to say, averting his gaze and reaching out his cringing arm to Johnny's shoulder.

Something dark flickered at the edge of his vision. It must have been his imagination, though, because when his paranoid eyes snapped over to it, nothing was there.

"You don't have to fight the fucking ectoplasm back into my body, you know."

"I know," Danny grumbled. He felt like some toddler ghost who couldn't control its urge to establish dominance. "Sorry, I think I'm getting sick or something."

"Sure you are, kid."

Somehow, he managed to touch the wound—just barely—where he wasted not even a nanosecond before his ecto-ice was on his fingertips, coating Johnny's skin in a frost that would have given frostbite to a normal human, but to a ghost, was little more than putting a cool bandage over the wound.

"Thanks." Johnny 13 leaned away, rolling his neck.

"Don't mess it up."

"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill."

Oh no, did they have a drill?

Danny tried to avoid looking at the lingering ectoplasm on Johnny's back. "Okay, you're all good now so just go to Kitty, please? Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."

"Sure thing, ghost brat!" Then, Johnny's expression shifted so quickly that Danny almost wondered if they were about to start brawling again. "By the way, you seriously need to recharge."

Now it was Danny's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, jeez, recharging? I never thought of that!" He directed some ectoplasm into his eyes to make them glow brighter, snapping, "When the hell is a guy supposed to sleep when you all keep coming into Amity?"

"No, not that kind of—ah, forget it." Johnny waved him off. "You'll figure it out soon enough, anyway. Either that, or I won't have to worry about you anymore. Which, not that I'm wishing for your demise, but having you out of my way would be kinda nice."

"Not happening."

They stared at each other. Johnny, with his bemused expression, and Danny, with arms crossed and aura glistening in warning. Around the corner, sounds of children, blissfully unaware of the two ghosts in the alley, laughed as they played in the small park.

Yeah, like hell was Danny ever going to let these morons cause mayhem and disrupt innocent lives like that.

Johnny 13 was the first to break it, shrugging in that lazy way that Danny hated so much. "Well, have fun with your illness then. See ya!"

The motorcycle revving was never not obnoxious. A cloud of green ecto-smoke pillowed around them, following Johnny as he disappeared in the direction of Fentonworks.

Danny didn't follow him. Partly because he knew Johnny wasn't stupid enough to stick around. But also partly because his feet had frozen to the ground. The green motorcycle smoke was surrounding him, and he couldn't move. He didn't want to move.

It was simply too intoxicating.

When the smoke cleared and he couldn't feel any traces of ecto-activity around him, Danny finally let out a long, slow breath, his muscles releasing as he did. At his sides, his hands trembled.

But why?

That interaction was one he'd had a dozen times before. Why was he so rattled now?

What the hell had happened to him?

He must have been missing something, because when he replayed the events in his head, for a moment there, Johnny's ectoplasm...it had looked...he'd wanted to...

No.

No.

That wasn't right. No. He was misremembering it. He was sick. No. Something was off. He wasn't thinking clearly. He was a good person, he wasn't some freak who would—no, that was sick. He was just being paranoid.

He clenched his hands into fists, tucking them under his elbows and hugging his torso because he just needed to calm down. He just wasn't feeling right. He was tired.

His stomach felt empty. He must have been hungry too. Yeah, that must have been it.

But...he didn't feel hungry. Or, did he?

His body was too out of whack right now.

He needed to go home. Sleep. Yeah, that sounded good.

Sleep always had a way of fixing everything.

****

Danny lay in his bed, his stomach hollow despite the fact that he’d just eaten dinner. When he stared at the ceiling, a slight green glow reflected in the air above him.

Odd. His eyes normally never glowed in his human form unless he was upset or angry.

In the corners of the room, the shadows shifted.

He was afraid to look.

The tips of his fingers tingled.

Something was happening to him. Something that every time he tried to think about it, his brain slammed the gates shut.

So he didn't think. He kept clenching his fists. He refused to look at the shadows. He didn't acknowledge the emptiness in his stomach. He stared up, gazing past the green air to the glow-in-the-dark constellations on his ceiling. He breathed.

And breathed.

Up, down. Rest. Up, down. Rest.

For some reason, it was enough to distract him.

Perhaps, that was because breathing was human.

****

part 2 >

[cat-autism-wizard]

five times danny's english class learned that he was phantom (and one time he had to reveal it)

+1 danny

danny always tried to hide his secret. was he good at hiding it? he would like to believe so. but with the fenton luck he knew it was only a matter of time he has to reveal it. one way or the other.

it started as a good day. he was late to class because he overslept but managed to get in the class before the teacher, in his math class the homeworks that he didnt make, werent checked. he hung out with this friends during the breaks, everything was normal. everything was good. everything was smooth going. too smooth for danny.

it was the last english class of the day. danny was getting anxious as that normalcy was the abnormality for them.

"okay so i dont wanna jinx it but didnt today feel so.. normal?" tucker said as if he read danny's mind.

"shut up, youre gonna jinx it. but yeah it was smooth." sam agreed and danny just nodded. he didnt want to break the perfect illusion of having a normal day by speaking of it.

they entered the class and settled into their seats. they still had a few minutes before mr. lancer would start the class. danny tried to distract himself. a normal day was possible for him. it was okay. it would be okay. maybe it was a gift from the ancients. a normal day for the ghost boy.

he started to relax as mr lancer started his lesson. it was about some other boring book. it would be fine. everything was good.

then his ghost sense went off. danny groaned quietly. and raised his hand to excuse himself to the bathroom. except he was too late.

"theres no way to hide now, twerp." a voice boomed as the infamous bounty hunter entered the class.

"good going tucker you jinxed it." sam said annoyed. tried to find her wrist lasers in her bag. but it was to no avail. apperantly that day was the onlt day sam forgot to bring her wrist lasers to school, she blames her mother for making her chnage bags because hers was 'falling apart'.

"shut up i dont want it to stuck like 'bad luck tuck'" tucker groaned.

the students screamed as they tried to get out of the class but skulker had blocked the exit. everyone rushed to mr. lancer's desk. kwan, dash and dale were on the front in an attempt to protect everyone. danny, tucker and sam were just a little bit more on the right that could see the ghost easier than others.

"what is he doing? this isnt how we do things." danny said searching for an escape.

"is this like a hostage situation? what are we going to do?" tucker asked. skulker didnt attack. just grinned knowing that danny couldnt do anything.

"mr. ghost? as the teacher of this class, may i ask what your terms are?" mr. lancer asked trying to manage his tone.

"terms you say?" skulker turned to danny. looked at him dead in the eye. "my terms are simple. i will collect my righteous hunt, phantom. then you will be free to go."

he was making danny choose. get hunted or get exposed.

"i think you are mistaken, mr ghost. phantom is not here." mr lancer said with visible confusion.

"yeah everybody knows he send his clones to the school while he's fighting ghosts." wes stated as if everything he was saying wasnt bullshit. skulker's laughter boomed in the class.

"as expected. phantom is too much of a coward to tell the truth." he said, still grinning.

"stop with this skulker." danny said, glaring at the hunter. the class turned to danny.

"do you know him, fenton?" mikey asked with confusion as if he was trying to connect the dots.

"of course he does. he's the son of the self-proclaimed ghost hunters." paulina defended even before danny could say something to defend himself.

"yeah, it's like asking a marine biologist if they know an angler fish." star added, making head turn to her with confused eyes.

"my dad wont shut up about them, he could give the fentons run for their money about never shutting up about obsessions." she explained her unique analogy.

skulker was getting impatient. he never once departed his eyes from danny, the useless and obnoxious chattering only made his patient run thinner.

"i will give phantom last one minute, if he doesnt come out now, i will destroy all of you." the hunter threatened the class.

"oh yeah? phantom might come here any second now then your ass will be sorry." dash said with excitement. everyone agreed with 'yeah's and nods.

"he wont come." everyone once again turned to danny.

"danny what are you doing?" tucker asked.

"it was only a matter of time, you know it." danny sighed. he walked towards the ghost only stopped when someone grabbed his arm.

"you dont have to do it, mr. fenton. someone will come to save us." mr lancer pleaded.

"im sorry" danny muttered and removed his arm from mr lancer's grasp.

"alright skulker you want your hunt?" danny tranformed into phantom. "then come on get him." he flew away to keep skulker away from his classmates. to keep them away from the danger he put them in.

the class gasped at the transformation but no one spoke after it. no one moved nor did anyone react any way. the frozen atmosphere broke when wes run to the classroom door.

"wes stop." valerie tried to stop him. but he did something she didnt expect. he barricaded the door with a chair and sat on it to prevent anyone to go outside or come inside the class.

"no one leaves before fenton comes back." he said, more confident than ever.

"oh yeah? and who will stop me if i want to go outside, weston?" dash said threateningly as he made his way to wes.

"i will." kwan stopped his best friend by getting between him and wes. dash was annoyed but he knew kwan could stop him easily if he wanted, so he dropped it and sat on his seat.

"okay everyone, mr weston is right. we will wait for phantom's return and until then i want everyone to go back to their seats." mr lancer said. everyone returned to their seat except wes who was still sitting on the chair he used to barricade the door. the class was chatting about danny, most were confused and others were more aggressive. sam couldnt stand hearing them, she walked to mr lancer's desk and turned towards the class.

"gusy listen." she started to say but everyone was too focused on their own conversation that no one heard her.

"hey guys." she shouted but again no one paid her any attention.

"hey. manson is speaking." paulina cut through their conversations and made everyone quiet down then made a hand gesture meaning 'continue' to sam. sam was surprised say the least to see paulina was helping her.

"thanks? i guess? anyway until danny comes back, i want you to know that this secret cannot go outside of this classroom. i know it is hard to believe and hard to prove but if it convinces someone wrong even a little, danny will be in danger. then amity park will be in danger since no one can protect us better than danny." sam said. most of the class agreed but some were still sceptical about the whole thing.

"cmon nothing will happen if someone accidentally slips up. look at weston. he's been trying to convince everyone but it only made him look crazy." someone from the football team said.

"its only because i want it that way. i had real evidences to expose danny before i realized that if someone wrong believes me they will kill danny without hesitation. do you remember what happened when that european exchange student came?" wes spitted.

"wait you were lying this whole time?" star asked.

"not the whole time, just after the GIW's attack on a literal kid with no evidence. but i also knew i couldnt stop, it would look suspicious so i started bullshitting some 'facts' making everyone believe there was no way danny was phantom."

"oh man, then you didnt believe that danny was only studying here because he had a deal with casper the friendly ghost?" tucker laughed.

".. not my best lie, i'll admit. but did anyone think that could actually happen and danny was a ghost? no. point proven." wes was embarrassed that people still remembered his first bullshit lies.

with wes' confession about purposefully spreading misinformation, the sceptical ones finally understood the severity of the situation. they agreed to keep it a secret but still wanted to ask questions to danny.

when danny was coming back from the fight he was scared. he wasnt ready to face the people he lied to all this time. what if they wanted to expose him? only one person's confession wasnt enough but if the whole class tried to expose him he would have no choice to run away. but how could he even leave amity park? without him all the ghosts would attack with his absence and people could get seriously hurt. he couldnt risk it. maybe clockwork could help him. he knew he shouldnt temper with time but if he were to get exposed, that might be the only way to solve it.

he flew into his classroom, expecting to see his classmates afraid of him or hating him but instead everyone cheered for him.

"you got so many questions to answer, dude. people are curious." tucker joked, trying to ease danny's visible panic.

"but before that. danny i would like to thank you behalf of everyone in the class and in the amity park. you protect us everyday and each day even if you are just a kid. if there was a perfect wor-"

"cut it short, we have questions." wes cut mr lancer's monologue-like thanking. mr lancer sighed.

"thank you danny." he smiled genuinely.

"uhm no problem?" danny wasnt sure how to react. his class okay with him? and even thank him? danny looked at his friends and shot them a 'help?' look.

"dont worry. theyre gonna keep it a secret." sam assured him.

"now they just want to ask some questions." tucker added.

"oh.. oh okay. i'll try my best to answer them then." he tranformed back to his human part. almost everyone asked questions about ghosts, being a ghost and how it happened. danny tried to cut informations best he could when it came to 'how' he became a halfa but other than that he answered them pretty honestly.

at one point dash asked him how he could protect people if hes so weak and danny invited him to a wrist wrestle. danny wom with ease then continued to explain how ghost powers did enhance some of his human strength too. his senses were sharper and he was stronger but had to downplay all of them to see normal. if he was being honest he only explained it through wrist wrestle to see dash's face when he lost.

valerie didnt talk much and danny was more scared of valerie than anyone else but she didnt glare at him or tried to kill him just yet. at some point she just sighed and whispered to his ear that he could ease his anxiety and that she didnt hate him and that she already knew for a little while now. danny wanted ask questions but knew it wasnt the time. he thanked her for not killing him and she replied with a teasing she still had time. it was going to be fine.

danny was still confused on why everyone was being okay with it but he felt happy. happy to see people could accept him even as a ghost. it repaired a part of his belief in humanity. maybe one day he could tell the truth about him to his parents.

1 2 3 4 5 +1

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Ghosts of Our Pasts: Part 7

DPxDC Crossover

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne Sibling AU

Masterpost Previous Next

Part 7

"I saw you!"

"Good morning, Wes."

"What were you doing with Bruce Wayne?"

"...nothing?"

"I know he's Batman. And I saw you on the roof!"

"Whoa! Fentoina met Batman? Where you swapping super hero secrets? Did the Butts match?" Dash interjected, not believing a word Wes said.

Danny rolled his eyes as hard as he could, threw a few extra sausages on his plate and went to sit down.

"I think Wes is dreaming of me," Danny informed them.

"Oh no," Sam said, oh so helpfully.

Tucker stared down at his breakfast plate containing various meats. "Uh, creepy? "

"Maybe it's more like astrial projection, he was definitely asleep when I left, and when I got back, but he knew what I was doing."

"Oh, no."

"Sam!"

"You realize he probably already had abilities, and we just didn't notice because Amity Park?" She pointed out.

"Well, I'm realizing. It's the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"Can we not trauma dump over breakfast?"

---

Edward Lancer had assumed that the lack of 'I'm technically an adult so's were because his students understood the dangers of Gotham. He was wrong, they had simply been waiting for the most effective moment to utterly crumble his argument. That was how one group was split into 4, one for each chaperone.

His group had been in a former supervillain's lair (and it was a lair, even Edward knew what a lair felt like.) for hours. Technically rehabilitated, sure, Edward wasn't going to judge the doctor for past actions, but he wasn't going to feel safe until he left the gardens either.

Ms. Manson didn't seem to mind as she regarded the next plant in the line. She would consider it for a few moments, say some things to the friends that trailed behind her and either move on, or have a one-sided? conversation with it. Tucker and Daniel had their hands clasped behind their backs like young children, they had not touched anything since arriving at the garden. Wes was regarding them all suspiciously, but seemed to be growing tired. The rest of the group had left when another Casper High group arrived, finished the garden tour in a normal hour, and had decided to go somewhere else.

Edward was not suprised when Dr. Pamela Isley strolled purposefully down the aisle, directly to where Samantha stood. Lancer missed whatever the two women had said to each other in his rush to get closer.

"Nah, I fall closer to winter than anything. The Green tends to take offense to my existence." Mr. Fenton told the Doctor. She nodded agreeably and looked to Mr. Foley.

"Same as him but with Tech. I've never tried doing something with plants and I don't plan too."

She looked to Edward, he froze.

"He's just a teacher." Said Ms. Manson, and the lair's owner turned her attention away from him. He it would probably feel offensive if he didn't feel so relieved.

---

Damian should not have his phone on him; he was in class. His phone buzzed, and Damian was glad he'd chosen to ignore the rule.

Dany had sent a picture, a selfie. In it he was clearly trying not to laugh as Condiment King rampages in the background.

Dany: do I do something? With a little thyme I'm sure I can mustard something up.

Damian almost double checked that a sibling hadn't rearaged his contacts, but the selfie proved this was all Dany... who was facing Condiment King as a civilian...

He did not have time to alert Signal before the next text was received.

Dany:kszkksskmssbsh

Damian: Dany?! Do you require medical assistance?!

Dany: I'm good lmao

Dany: the man sauced Lancer

Dany: one sec

-Dany sent a video-

Damian raised his hand, asking to be excused. Far too much time passed before he reached a place he could watch it in peace. He could not be interrupted if he was to coordinate a plan of action. He pressed play.

The Condiment King sat shamefaced in a restaurant seat as Dany's teacher lectured him on life choices. It was hard to hear exactly what was being said over the snickers from his classmates. The video panned over the briefly before ending. Wait... was that... ?!

Damian: Dany...

Dany: I spell it with 2 n's

Damian: Danny...

Dany: yes?

Damian: that is Poison Ivy at your table...

Dany: She took us out for lunch :D!

---

This guy was an idiot, Dash thought. He and Kwan had cut through an alley, and now this guy was trying to rob them; at knife point! Them! Two burly football players from Amity Park, and this guy was trying to rob them with this little 4 inch knife!

"Uh, no thanks," Kwan said in disbelief.

"I said hand over your—"

Dash tilted his head, "Buddy, the Box Ghost is more threatening than this,"

"I'm pretty sure the box knife is sharper too," Kwan added. "We need to be on the other side of this alley, so if you could do this later?"

The man sputtered and aimed at Kwan, taking the polite dismissal like fighting words. Kwan rolled his eyes, sidestepping, and Dash snatched the knife out of his hand.

They kept walking, continuing the discussion on how football would be different in college.

The man didn't try to stop them again.

---

Lester: Great news!

Mikey: ?

Lester: My greatest fear is no longer failing the STAs!

Mikey: makes sense, since we already took it. Mikey: What made you realize?

Lester: Oh, some guy with a bag on his head gassed the street.

Mikey: that's why my parents said I couldn't go.

Lester: Fright's sword was worse to be honest, Our group is heading back to the hotel to sleep it off.

Mikey: How's that?

Lester: Not the first time I've been in a vehicle with shadow monsters.

Lester: Did you see they're making a Doom the Movie?

---

"I disarmed it,"

"You disarmed it," the officer repeated

"Yeah," the young woman sounded more like she was saying 'duh' . "Wasn't even that complicated! I didn't even need Star's help."

"It was a lame bomb." The blond, Star, agreed.

"Super lame! Everyone always makes Gotham out to be soooo dangerous, but a toddler could dismantle this!" The Latina woman kicked some electrical components with a high heeled foot. "Let's get out of here, find some place interesting!"

---

* group chat created *

Danny: A group chat with 47 people, delightful

Dick (this is his name lol): It's not that bad...

Tim: sibling groupchat

Danny: Cool, can I add my sisters?

* multiple people are typing *

-

-

-

Only 2 of 4 chaperones still have adequate knowledge of where their group has split off to. Lancer because he is hypervigulant and half his group went joined another group.

Group 2's chaperone because they got gassed and decided it was a good day for a midday nap and their students agreed.

Everyone else is in the wind and will show up at dinner.

STA stands for school testing acronym, I'm so creative!

@shyrebeldonutpickle *bonks you on the head with my creep stick* no threatening in my replies!

Tag List

(I will add this to Ao3 when I have my computer again, it will be a while)

(some of you will be added to a reblog, if you are tagged please do not request to be tagged again it's confusing me)

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecatenthusiast @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmello @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence @cloudminder @markus209 @everything163 @latheevening226 @roman4517 @moobloomrights @battybatbat @lumosfeather18581 @werv @ahyesanerd @pyramaniac @lexdamo @princessbelix @bun-fish @deeannthepan @edgyboi10000 @thatrandomsarahchick @busterkeel @aconitewolfsbane @spoopyspoony @bright-shade @spidey29phangirl @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @keimiwolf @u-a-wizard-jamie @gay-puff @bicerise @itshype @blackfoxsposts @icanneverdecide @lolottes @chubbypotato @jovialherringtacoghost @saltyladynightmare

[lavendarlily]

3 pitch pearl

cw: panic attack

3. cold hands in warm hands | pitch pearl

The Honors English 3 class shuffled into their first period, the students bundled up from the chilled December air. Wet shoes squeaked against the linoleum after braving snow and ice outside. The air was thick with tension and exhaustion as the junior class was just barely surviving their final exams before their holiday break. 

Danny found his way to his seat, hoping, praying for the best. This was an important semester after all - college applications were just around the corner. He had to do well or risk his chances at getting into a decent university. Sure, he’d gotten by decently with his higher-than-average intelligence (it was a Fenton thing), but this year’s courses had been rough. If he didn’t pull out of this class with at least a B…

He took a deep breath, and tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach, ignore the ache in his head, and steady his shaking hands. The first part of the English exam was multiple choice - he was confident enough in that. The second part scared him slightly - writing essays wasn’t his strong suit, but he’d seared the entirety of Catcher in the Rye into his mind. He could do this. He had to. 

“Alright students, phones off, clear your desks,” Mr. Lancer announced with a stack of papers in hand. “I want to get these passed out to you as soon as possible so you have the full amount of time to complete it. A reminder that there are two parts - don’t forget to do both of them.” 

The teacher looked around the room. “Best of luck to all of you, and enjoy your break.” His smile did little to ease Danny’s nerves. He grabbed his lucky pencil (it was hardly more than a nub at this point) and placed it on his desk, then dragged his sweaty palms against his thighs. 

Mr. Lancer reached his desk, gently setting down the exam, and gave Danny an encouraging smile, which he tried his darndest to return, but probably gave more of a grimace. 

Danny took a final breath, then dove in. 

The first section did some good for Danny’s confidence - he only had trouble with a small handful of the questions, but at least he could take an educated guess. Now onto the essay section.

Three prompts were provided. He only had to answer one.

As he scanned through the list, his heart gave a drop. No, he shook his head. Just gotta read them again. Carefully. I can do at least one of these.

Yet as he read through them again, then again, and a third time, Danny couldn’t help but feel absolutely screwed.

His breathing picked up, hands shaking once more. His thoughts began spiraling until he couldn’t finish one before picking up the next. Danny was panicking.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Mr. Lancer looked down at him with a concerned expression. His teacher made a nod to the door, and guided Danny out into the hallway.

“Take a minute, Daniel. Come back inside when you’re ready,” he said with a smile. 

Danny leaned against the hallway and slunk down against the wall. How humiliating. He crossed his arms and leaned his head forward. Now I’m gonna fail the test and everyone saw me freaking out about it. Fuck fuck fuck.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before a soft “Danny?” interrupted his mental spiral. He didn’t move though. He couldn’t.

“Danny, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” the familiar voice said.

Danny still didn’t answer. 

The air around him became colder as the presence approached him. Icy hands grasped his arms and unfolded Danny from his cocoon. Now he was looking into the burning green eyes of Amity Park’s own ghostly hero.

Phantom kneeled in front of him, grabbing Danny’s hands in his. 

“I don’t know what happened. But I know you’re upset. I know you’ve been stressed, and working so hard the last few weeks.” As he spoke, Phantom gave Danny’s hands a comforting squeeze.

“I’m gonna fail,” Danny croaked.

Phantom’s face hardened. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that. As long as you get back in there and finish what you started, you cannot fail. 

“You’re the smartest person I know, Danny. I’m so proud of you. And whatever happens, you should be proud too. Now can you just take some deep breaths for me?”

The two sat in silence, hands still intertwined, as Phantom watched Danny steady himself. It wasn’t a cure-all, but Phantom’s presence was doing something to bring Danny back to earth. 

“Okay,” he said, a little shakily. “I’m gonna go finish my exam.”

Phantom leaned his forehead forward so that it was touching Danny’s. “You got this babe,” he whispered, then planted a kiss on Danny’s cheek before swiftly disappearing.

Danny swallowed, stood up, and went back inside.