#Phandom Holiday Truce 2022

[dp-marvel94]

Holiday Truce 2022

Summary: For @ionanana

A sick and sleep deprive Danny is failing to balance his ghost hunting and student task efficiently. Eventually, his body can’t keep up and he collapses, unable to do his night routine:

Danny only got up to his elbows before Jazz pushed him down, back onto his bed again. “You need to recover. Lay down!”

“No. I have a job to do.” Danny fought through a cough. “Who’s gonna do it? You?”

The girl swiped his thermos off his desk. “Yes.” Her hard look pierced him. “You better still be here, sleeping when I get back."

Word Count: 4,542

AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Notes:

Merry Christmas! Happy New Years! And Happy Holidays! Here is my holiday truce story, for @ionanana ! I went with your second prompt.

Prompt 2:Sick and sleep deprive Danny failing to balance his ghost hunting and student task efficiently. (Anxiously and angst Danny) His body can’t keep up and collapse. Not able to do his night routine for a few days. “You need to recover GO lay down!” “No I have a job. Who will cover for me! You?”

So enjoy a sick fic with some light angst. Warnings for mentions of blood and injury. Mentions of snot, vomit, and other sickness related ickiness. Mild cursing.

“Lunch. Finally.” Danny groaned with tired relief, approaching his friends’ lunch table.

The boy dropped his tray onto the surface…. And scowled. The plastic tray clattered, dropped too roughly. His peas rolled off the plate, the meatloaf sliding with a juicy squelch. His water bottle wobbled and tipped. The lid, un-securely fastened, popped free, water pouring out all over his mediocre lunch. 

The half ghost rubbed his head, words slipping out through a sudden cough. “Can you… not?” He narrowed his eyes, complaining at his lunch as if that could make it ignore the normal course of gravity.

Tucker offered him a sympathetic wince. “At least your milk survived.”

“But the rest of my lunch is ruined.” Danny sniffed, sinking into his seat with crossed arms. 

The boy didn’t even bother cleaning the mess, instead ripping open the milk carton and downing it. Frowning, he started fishing peas out of the lake that his food had become.

“It’s been one of those days, huh?” Sam offered, holding out an apple.

Danny dropped the spoon, giving up after the first soggy bite. “One of those weeks.” He took the fruit and bit it. “The ghosts won’t leave me alone.” He grumbled. “Desiree. Technus. Skulker. Johnny and Kitty. Even the freaking Box Ghost.” A yawn. “And then there were all these ghost animals last night. Rabbits, deer, wolves, freaking penguins. I keep catching them. And. They. Keep. Coming. Back.” The boy dropped the apple core, rubbing his face. “It’s like they can’t stay in the portal for five seconds.”

“When’s the last time you slept?” His goth friend’s eyes shone with worry.

“I don’t know.” Danny whined. “Monday maybe.”

“It’s Thursday, Danny.” Tucker deadpanned. 

The half ghost shrugged, finishing the apple.

“Maybe you should skip next period and take a nap.” The technogeek offered quietly.

Sam leaned forward conspiratorially. “Yeah, we’ll cover for you. You should rest.”

“I…” Cough. “Can’t.” Danny shook his head. “I’ve got a quiz next period. And last period, we’re doing the review lesson before the test tomorrow. I already missed so much this unit. I need to take notes. And after school….” A groan. “I managed to convince Skulker to wait until after class to try to skin me. And I’ve got so much homework.”

“Dude.” Tucker’s eyes widened, like he was the one about to be skinned, not Danny. “Let us handle Skulker if he shows up.”

“If.” The half ghost chucked, drily. “He will. If there’s any time that you can trust his word, it’s when he’s talking about skinning me.”

“We’ll cover for you with class. And you can copy off me for the homework later.” Sam continued, ignoring the statement. “Go get some sleep. We’ll deal with the ghost.”

“No, guys. Skulker’s my responsibility.” He reached for his water bottle; there were a few unspilled sips. “And you cover for me all the time. You’ll get in trouble again. I can’t- Achoo!” 

Briefly, icy blue light flashed in his hand, his core jolting. With a gasp, Danny dropped the water bottle. The supercooled plastic shattered, sending shards of ice splattering across the table. The half ghost groaned, frustratedly face planting onto the table.

“Danny…” Sam’s soft, concerned voice.

Of course, then his ghost sense went off.

Danny stood with hardly a thought. He wobbled slightly, a sudden tiredness weighing down on him. “Hopefully, I’ll be back before next period starts.”

“Danny, wait.” His friends called after. 

The boy hurried off, half aware of his friends quickly following. But he couldn’t think about them, couldn’t worry. He needed to find a place to transform, figure out who the ghost was, and deal with them before they possessed someone. Or threw knives at them. Or destroyed more public property which Phantom would, of course, get blamed for. Like he had any control over what walls Technus threw him into.

Danny rounded the corner. There, the boy’s bathroom. He’d dip into a stall and-

Another puff of his ghost sense and ghost alarm went off. Sam and Tucker yelled behind him, their footsteps quickening. Three seconds later….

“I’ve got you, welp!” 

A metal hand pulled him through the ceiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Skulker is a f-king liar.” Danny cursed to himself, flying back to the school. One hand clasped hard around the forearm of the other, a meager effort to keep the ectoplasm gushing from the slash where it belonged. “Wait ‘til after school my ass, you ectoplasmic slime.”

The hunter had grabbed him, dragging him to the football field before Danny even thought to transform. The half ghost pulled out of the hold, hightailing it back to the school for his thermos… only to end up chased by Skulker for the next hour.

Downtown, over the mall, in the woods at the edge of town. The mechanical ghost stabbed and blasted. Danny dodged and shot back. 

Skulker, leering over him. The half ghost darted down but…. the mech was still an arm’s length away. A miss-timed sneeze. Danny blinked. Skulker slashed with his blade.

“Ow! You tin can!” The boy growled out, arm screaming from his wound.

Somehow, he’d managed to get the other ghost in the thermos, despite the pain and fatigue dragging him down.

Now, Danny phased through the school’s roof and into the janitor’s closet. He landed soundlessly, his tail morphing back into legs. 

The boy scowled, holding the occupied thermos up to his face. “I should squish you, like a bug. It wouldn’t ever be hard. You… you gloop of jello.” No response came from the container. Danny frowned, shaking his head. “I’m too tired for this.”

He put down the thermos and summoned the rings. With a flash of light, he was human again, warm, solid, and oh so tired. 

A yawn. The boy moved his hand, to cover his mouth. And- “Shit.” A stab of pain. He glared down at the injury. “Great. I’m still bleeding.”

Letting out a defeated sigh, Danny slid down the wall, slumping on the floor. He turned his hands intangible and pulled the first aid kit out of the ground.

With bleary eyes, he wrapped the cut. Another yawn. “So… tired.” He coughed. “Stupid cold.” 

One final tug on the fabric and the bandage was secured. He lowered both arms to his side, his head rolling back to brush the wall. “Should get up and get to class. What time is it anyway?” He stared at the ceiling, as if it had the answer. A blink. “Right. My phone.”

He pulled the device out of his pocket and dimly stared at the numbers. A groan. “Great. I missed the quiz.” There were only five minutes left in his third period. “No point in going to class now.” 

Danny hung his head. He was so tired… He sniffed. “Just…. Five minutes. Then I’ll get up. Five minutes…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The half ghost jerked up with a gasp. Where was- Oh, the janitor’s closet…. He was still in the janitor’s closet? Blearily, he flailed for his phone. Had he fallen asleep? He must have fallen asleep…

He blinked at the time. Ten minutes ‘til school let out. He…he slept through all of fourth period. “No.” The boy complained, reaching up to rub his eyes. He sniffled, his hand going to his nose and.. “Gross.” He grimaced. Great. Now his nose was running. 

The phone in his hand vibrated. Danny turned his head down to look. A text from Tucker. 

Dude, r u comin 2 class? 

A frown… right. His friends hadn’t heard anything from him since he’d left at lunch. He typed out a quick response.

Fight w Skulker went long. Im just going home.

A few seconds later.

Go get some sleep! Sam insisted.

Danny snorted. As if he could do that, not with all the work he had to do.

The boy stood, stretching out stiff muscles. He winced. “Remind me not to sleep sitting up.” He said to no one in particular.

Danny picked up the thermos. With another flash of light -briefly making his head throb- he transformed and flew away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minutes later, he arrived home. Landing in his room, he changed back. Lucky for him, his parents were out of town at a conference; putting Skulker back in the portal was easier than ever.

That task down, Danny sat down to work on homework. Brow scrunting, he looked around for his bookbag. “Where is it?” He rubbed his forehead, just a spark of pain blooming there. “I left it at school. Stupid…”

He sent a text. I left my hw @ school. :( Can u bring it 2 me?

An affirmative from Sam and the half ghost just sat to wait.

Twenty minutes later… the front door opened downstairs. Three pairs of footsteps proceeded up the stairs. A knock sounded at his door.

“Come in.” Danny called.

The door opened. It was Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

His sister frowned, eyeing the bandage on his arm. “Are you alright?”

The half ghost waved her off. “Skulker barely scratched me.”

“Are you sure?” Jazz asked.

“Yes, I’m-” Cough. “Sure.” Danny frowned. Stupid body betraying him.

“You’re getting sick too?” His sister’s eyes shone with worry. 

“It’s not that bad.” The half ghost denied, despite the growing headache, nose feeling like it was full of cotton. 

His friends and sister traded skeptical looks; they didn’t believe him….

“Look.” Danny waved his hands, quickly trying to divert that train of thought. “Did you guys get my homework?”

Tucker started. “Danny, I think you need to sleep, not worry about-”

“I did sleep.” The ghost boy interrupted. He blushed, realizing what he’d said. “I mean…. I got back so late from fighting Skulker that there was no point going to class so I took a quick nap. And I feel so much better now.” It wasn’t a complete lie, right? “So I’m good to go. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to catch up on…”

More worried looks were traded, while Danny tried his best to look innocent and perfectly healthy, like his nose wasn’t actively trying to become a facet. 

Finally, Sam sighed. “Fine.” She pulled sheets of paper out of her bag. “Here are the notes from the review in history today.” 

“And this is from science.” Tucker offered more notes. 

Jazz crossed her arms, still scowling. Then, tentatively… “Alright.” She sighed, pulling something out of her bag. “I told Mr. Faluca that you were sick and went home. Which is apparently true….” She narrowed her eyes. “He gave me this make-up quiz and said you could do it at home.”

His sister held out the sheet. Danny reached for it but at the last minute… “Hey!” Jazz pulled it away.

“At least take some cold medicine first.” 

Danny’s own eyes narrowed. “I don’t need any.” 

A silent stare down ensued, Jazz holding the paper out of reach while the boy scowled. But Danny cracked first. “Fine.” His sister had learned that death glare from their mom after all. “I’ll take something.” 

“Good.” Jazz dropped the paper before turning around and leaving.

Sam raised an eyebrow while Tucker laughed. “Man, you really want to take that quiz, huh?”

Down the hallway, the bathroom door opened. 

Danny crossed his arms. “I don’t really have a choice.”

“You know. You could just rest. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you don’t get it done tonight.” Sam countered.

The boy winced at the wording. “I’m fine.” He ground through his teeth.

Jazz returned with various bottles of liquid and pills. “Pain Reliever and Fever reducer.” She pointed. “Nasal Decongestant. Cough Suppressant. Expectorant.” She picked up a bag of what looked like colorful wrapped hard candies. “Cough Drops. These are really good for a sore throat.”

Danny just stared at all the options.

“Here.” With a roll of her eyes, Jazz handed him two pills and a bottle of water. He duly swallowed. “And this.” She poured some thick orange liquid into a clear cup. 

The ghost boy also took and swallowed that. He stuck out his tongue. “The grape tastes better.”

“Well, we only had the orange.” Jazz crossed her arms. “I’m leaving these here. And don’t push it with the homework.” She pointed threateningly. “I’ll heat up some soup for dinner and call you when it’s done.”

“Fine.” Danny complained, downing the rest of the water bottle. “And… thank you.” His shoulders lowered, just a hint of gratitude in his voice. His sister and friends were trying to help him out after all, even if he really didn’t need to be babied like this.

Jazz just nodded in acknowledgement before turning to leave.

“We should head out too.” Tucker said sheepishly, clearly not wanting to go.

“Yeah. I wasn’t supposed to come over in the first place.” Sam crossed her arms. “Mom’s still pissed about last week.”

Danny winced at the reminder. “Yeah… Sorry.” That had been his fault after all; they wouldn’t have been out fighting ghosts at three am if it wasn’t for him.

“It’s not your fault.” Tucker offered, eyes softening.

That really wasn’t true…. But Danny didn’t argue. Instead he wished his friends a good night, promising to call or text if he needed help with anything, ghost or homework related.

Now alone, Danny turned his attention to his homework. He coughed, the motion shaking his lungs, his chest. He grabbed for a tissue, grimacing at the feeling on his tongue. He spit. Well, the expectorant was already working. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny groaned, rubbing his aching head. “No! Not! Again!” Cold mist poured out of his mouth and he almost felt like crying.

He’d been home for five hours and his ghost sense still wouldn’t stop going off. He’d fought the Box Ghost, a weird cat, a bunch of ghostly dudes in suits, a snake with two heads, and what might have been a minotaur.

“Who is it…” A lung hacking cough. “now?!” 

A hysterical cackle echoed from out his window. “Ghost child! It is I Technus! Master of all things electronic and-”

Danny transformed, body slamming the ghost. “Why can’t you leave me- Achoo! Alone?!” He sneezed, sending shards of ice shooting out.

“Careful! My circuits!” The electronic ghost shocked him. 

The half ghost let go, falling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, Danny slunk home, metaphorical tail between his legs. He’d captured the ghost, but not before Technus devastated the local Apple Store. The boy phased through his window, flopping onto his bed. 

“Stupid” Cough. “Technus” Cough. “Stupid ghosts.” Cough. “Stupid electricity.” Cough. “Why’d he’d have to” Cough. “Electrocute me?!” Cough.

Danny’s chest shook, coughs racking his body. He transformed and-

Exhaustion crashed over him. He saged, hardly able to sit up. So tired….

Another coughing fit. He flailed for water. There. Jazz must have left that while he was gone. That was nice.

He practically inhaled the liquid. Then….

His eyes flitted to his bed, the papers and books spread around him. His gaze misted. He’d been sitting on this bed, trying to do homework for hours. But his stupid ghost sense kept going off… So many ghosts… he’d barely ever started.

There was so much homework. That essay for Lancer; they’d just finished… what was it? Of Mice and Men or something like that. And the math worksheets. A make-up quiz of science; Mr Faluca let him take it at home, open book, but that was just more work. And there’s the history test. He needed to study. And an art project. How was he supposed to come with what to draw? 

His eyes were swimming. He could barely keep them open. There was so much to do and he just wanted to sleep. But… but…

Danny struggled to focus on his science quiz. He had to do this. He had to. He had to get a good grade. How was he supposed to get into NASA if he was failing science? How was he supposed to become an astronaut if he was failing all his classes?!

Him, an astronaut…. He sniffed, his chest shaking with another cough. A wet chuckle exited. Him, an astronaut. Who was he kidding? He’d be lucky if he ever got into a community college at the rate, let alone Nasa. And it’s not like he would pass the physicals, not with his weird ghostly biology. 

He’d never be an astronaut. Ten years from now, he’d be working at the Nasty Burger. Or if he was lucky, he’d take over FentonWorks. Another laugh, this one almost hysterical. He’d be fighting ghosts, for the rest of his life.

Just then, his ghost sense puffed out of his mouth, again. Danny whined, the sound watery. “Why me?” He stood from the bed, wobbling. His knees buckled.

“Woah.” Jazz’s hands appeared on his shoulders. When had she come in? “I think you need to go to bed.”

Danny flopped down, lithlessly. Everything was swimming. He blinked. It wouldn’t clear up. But… “No.” He muttered.

“Yes.” The word was direct, without question, punctuated by his sister closing his binder and shoving it onto his desk. “Lay down. I’ll get you some more cold medicine.”

“No.” Another shaky effort to stand. “I need to…” Go fight the ghost. He hated it. He hated it but he had to. It was his fault. 

“Danny.” Jazz scowled, gently pushing him back down with one hand. “Rest. You need to sleep.”

The boy breathed out more cool, blue mist. He groaned again. “Ghost sense.” The ghosts, the portal were his fault and someone could get hurt, because he wasn’t there. “I have to-”

He only got up to his elbows before Jazz pushed him down again. “You need to recover. Lay down!”

“No. I have a job to do.” Danny fought through a cough. “Who’s gonna do it? You?”

The girl swiped his thermos off his desk. “Yes.” Her hard look pierced him. “You better still be here, sleeping when I get back. Or I’ll use this on you.”

The boy huffed; he couldn’t argue anymore. Not with his head throbbing, vision swimming, nose running, throat aching. Everything hurt…

Defeated, he collapsed onto the bed.

“Drink this.” Jazz shoved another cup, this one with red liquid, into his face. “Open up.” Obediently, he drank and swallowed.

“Yucky.” He winced. 

“It’ll help you sleep.” His sister reassured, head turning as if looking for something.

Cold air stirred in his lungs again. “Jazz, the ghost…” He half-slurred.

“There it is.” Jazz’s eyes widened. She reached under his bed for… the ectogun he kept under there. “I’ll deal with it. You sleep.”

The boy whined in his throat, worry blossoming.

“I’ll be fine.” His sister stood and walked toward the door. She paused at the threshold. “Sleep well, little brother.”

The lights flickered off and Jazz closed the door, leaving in darkness. 

“Jazz.” The boy whimpered her name. 

But his sister didn’t hear it, off to confront whatever danger he should have been. He should get up and help her, at least. She couldn’t handle the ghost on her own. He couldn’t…

The darkness pulled the half ghost under, sleep taking him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time passed in flashing moments. Brief snatches of consciousness. His ghost sense, still going off. So cold. So many ghosts. Another breath. It felt so cool….

He laughed, blearily. It almost felt good, like… like… What was it? Something Jazz gave him to put in his mouth and… make his throat feel better. It was like…. Cough drop. It was like a cough drop.

Something cold and… metal? In his mouth, under his tongue. Blurry red hair. She was… shaking something? “You’re way too hot.” 

A cup, a white oblong pill. “Take this.” Medicine. He needed to swallow the medicine.

“Good job.” Jazz patted his head.

Jazz… she went off to do… something. Stomach churning with worry. Was she okay? Was she safe? The ghosts… did they hurt…

Danny drifted off again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later. The smell of chicken broth and noodles. 

“Here.” Jazz helped him sit up. “You need to eat.”

Danny sniffed the food and…his stomach turned. He shook his head, trying his nose away. “Icky.”

“I know you feel icky. It’ll be better if you eat.”

His insides churned. His mouth tasted hot and acidy. But Jazz said it would help? Maybe he should try.

A tentative sip….

Danny turned to the side and gagged, throwing up in the trash can.

Jazz rubbed his back, whipped off his face. “We’ll try something else.”

Chalky pink medicine. Ginger ale and crackers. Danny managed to a few sips and nibbles before he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashing green lights. Shouts. Curses. A familiar cold. An electric hum…The sounds of a fight. 

Panic claws up his throat. Ghost fight. There was a ghost fight. He needed to get up. Needed to stop the ghost. But… so tired. Everything was so heavy. 

“Use your words. You don’t have to-” That was Jazz. “Ah! Now that was uncalled for. I’m trying to help. Now you listen.” Jazz was…

Fuzzy blackness pulled him down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awakening. Sweat running down his back. Shaking hands. A cold rag on his head. Someone was giving him gatorade. It was grape.

A beep. “In the park.” Tucker’s voice.

“I’ve got it.” Sam. The sound of an ectogun priming.

Why do his friends look blurry? They walked out the door… “Where…” Danny mumbled, weakly reaching.

“They’re dealing with the ghost.”

Eyes darted up, focusing. Red hair, a worried smile. Jazz. Jazz was safe. But… “Ghost?” His core pulsed, anxious.

“They know what they’re doing.” Fingers brush through his hair. “Do you want to try some food, now that you’re awake?”

Danny nodded, too tired and fuzzy to argue. Jazz offered a cracker.

A relieved smile as he finished. “Good job. I’ll bring you some soup.”

The half ghost fell asleep before she returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny blinked awake. His eyes focused, taking in… the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. He could actually see them and…. A breath, through his nose. Through his nose?

The boy sneezed and his core churned. A cold burn on his face, his eyes…. A brief flash of blue. And.. a cloud of snow shot up, over his face. The flasks slowly drifted down.

Danny laughed, still a little fuzzy. “It’s… snowing.”

The door opened. “You’re awake.” Jazz’s eyes lit up.

Her hand on his forehead. After a thoughtful pause… “Open up.” A… thermometer, that’s what that was. An awkward few seconds. The device beeped and… “Your fever finally broke.” His sister sighed, relieved.

A brief bubble of relief stirred in his chest but…. He was forgetting something. Something happened. Worry churned…

“Do you want something to eat?” Jazz offered,

Numbly, Danny nodded. 

Minutes later, the girl returned with a bowl. The half ghost didn’t complain as she spooned chicken noodle soup into his mouth.

He was forgetting something. He’d been sick, was still sick. Still so tired. And hungry… His eyes flickered over his desk. So many books and papers…

Eyes widened slightly. He’d had a bunch of homework to do. But… no, that wasn’t… The ghosts. What happened to the….

Danny fell asleep again, in the middle of his dinner, before he could ask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The half ghost jolted up, ravenously hungry. His stomach grumbled, churning, practically trying to eat itself. 

“Ugg. What hit me?” He mumbled out, throat sore. He rubbed the spot; at least, he wasn’t coughing up a lung. He’d have to count his blessings. 

Danny’s head turned, surveying the room. His bedroom, still. Bright light poured through the curtain. It was probably the early afternoon. But… what day was it? How long had he been sick? And…

A puff of cold swirled in his lungs. His ghost sense. In an instant, Danny was standing. The ghosts! He’d been out of it for who knows how long and they’d been running free doing god knows what. The town must be in ruins. And his friends and family… where were they? What happened?

A brief memory flashed. 

“No. I have a job to do.” Danny complained through a cough. “Who’s gonna do it? You?”

The girl swiped his thermos off his desk. “Yes.” A hard look. “You better still be here, sleeping when I get back. Or I’ll use this on you.”

Jazz! No! No! No! Jazz must have gone after the ghost. Damn it! He was the one that started this, that turned on the portal. He was the one that put everyone in danger. This was his responsibility. 

Touching his core with his mind, Danny willed himself to transform but… his chest spasmed weakly. The ring of light formed around his torso before sputtering and going out. He was still too tired. 

But there was a ghost somewhere, nearby, close. He needed to deal with it. He couldn’t keep slacking off, couldn’t let the ghosts put his loved ones in danger anymore.

Danny bent down, sweeping under the bed. There! His wristray! Wielding the ray with one hand, the boy hurried out. What direction…. Down the hall! A foreign ectosignature swirled through the air, not twenty feet away.

Voices rang through the house, one familiar one and ….someone was crying. The half ghost followed the noise. Jazz’s room…

Danny threw the door open. 

“No one ever listened! Not… not before and not now. The only thing I was ever good at was music. It’s… it’s the only thing I’m good for but no one ever… ever listened. Even cared. Not my parents. Not my classmates. Or my so-called friends.” Ember (Ember!?) sniffed. “Why wouldn’t they just… just listen? Why wasn’t I good enough?”

What… what the… Ember and… Jazz?!

Jazz’s hand reached for the ghost’s arm, offering a comforting touch. “That wasn’t your fault, Ember. Don’t blame yourself. You are good enough, no matter what they say or don’t say, okay? Remember what we talked-”

“Jazz?” Danny finally spoke, sense breaking through his spinning confusion. “Ember?”

The ghost stiffened, shoulders raising. “Looks like the party’s over. Dipstick’s awake.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Jazz said.

“What’s…” The boy sputtered, motioning to the scene in front of him.

“I said I’d deal with the ghosts.” Jazz raised an eyebrow, challengingly. “And this is me dealing with them, my way.”

Danny just stared, open mouthed, mind struggling to process.

“Now go. Get something to eat. Ember and I aren’t done talking yet.”

“But… but…” The half ghost stuttered.

Ignoring her brother’s confusion, Jazz turned back to her chair. “Where were we?”

The rocker ghost smirked. “Yeah, get something to eat, Babypop. You look like death warmed over.”

At that, the half ghost’s mouth closed. His eye twitched. “Yeah. I’ll… I’ll do that.” 

Slowly, he closed the door, his eyes not leaving the two teens, as if…. If he looked away, they’d disappear. But finally, the door shut, blocking his vision with a click. 

Danny stared into the middle distance. What was that? A fever-induced hallucination? Was he still asleep on his bed, in the throws of his sickness? He’d think so but…. The boy shook his head. He wasn’t creative enough to come up with this. So, instead….

“Holy shit, Jazz. How?!”

Inside his sister’s room, two voices, one ghostly echoing and one humanly flat, laughed.

Note: I hope you guys enjoyed it, especially my giftee. I had been hoping to get this posted before Christmas but unfortunately didn't have time to edit it with all the packing, wrapping, and baking. Plus the sad irony of writing a sick fic and then getting sick myself two days before Christmas. Luckily, I wasn't as bad off as Danny, even if I'm still struggling with a bit of a cough and sore throat. 😢 Despite that, I had a good Christmas. I hope you did too. :)

[ionanana]

Hey @willakk I was your giftee for this year holiday truce. Late I am sorry for that but at least its on Friday the 13th lol.

Prompt: Something that is so hilariously funny where Danny and the gang just act like their obnoxious / “knows something that no one else knows” self and then proceed to confuse everyone etc.

I even added a bit of greyghost interaction from another prompt.

How you like it enjoy! (I will have to add the last few pages in a reblogged post)

[multiples-blades]

happy truce @auroraphantasma ! did this mainly for your “eldritch danny” prompt but then thought to myself “hey wouldn’t it be funny if i combined this slightly with the lil man prompt”. (i haven’t actually been following the lil man stuff closely at all but i went searching for references and then tried to capture as much of the Vibe as I could). originally i wanted to incorporate more of the “held at gunpoint like you would a mushroom” angle but at first i couldn’t make my mind up on how to execute that and then i ran out of time… so he’s just got some stupid labels instead. i hope this outcome is satisfactory lol

[the-random-phan]

My holiday truce gift for @dashing-through-ecto !!

The prompt was:

"Deep in the woods, the trio discovered a body."

Sketches and alternate idea under the cut!

[fentonworkz]

happy truce, @going-dead !! i was your ghost this year too :Dc

sorry for the delay on posting (i’m currently out of town!), but i hope you like it!!! i loved the idea of kwan finding a blob ghost, they’re friends now:)

“full-size��� (small) image under the cut! i didn’t want it to get blown up and blurry, so i upscaled it for posting above ^^

i drew them on my phone also! i’m very proud of it:3

[essiestarr]

Happy Holiday truce @charcoalhawk I went with you No one knows prompt and had way too much fun with it. I hope you enjoy it!

Ao3- The Undeath

~~~~~~~~

When Danny is fourteen the world ends.

—

He’s not entirely sure why he does it if he’s being honest.

Their experiments had failed before, smoking broken sparking things, smoldering materials with no defining feature to infer their original intended purpose, devices of truly dubious purposes that just made his life unfairly difficult. Danny is more than familiar with Fenton failures, he has to be, but he just can’t shake the feeling that this time it’s different.

 It’s hours after the ghost portal Danny’s parents had essentially spent eons of their lives working on, and Danny is halfway into hazmat suit with Sam and Tucker watching curiously behind him when something breaks.

Tucker, ever so invested in capturing digital footage, has backed into one of the millins of trays in the lab and knocked over a glass beaker. It shatters as glass beakers are oft to, echoing curiously in the silent room and Danny is transported to an uncomfortable sort of memory. Hiccuping sobs and red palms, the frantic whispers of a nine year old Jazz as she struggled to scrub the mystery liquid from his flaming palms. The memory triggers a phantom sting and Danny distractedly runs his fingers over faded scars as he straightens up from his crouch.

It’s not particularly difficult to usher his friends out of the lab with an apologetic smile turned to them as he shuts the lab door. Their initial interest has faded and Danny waves away Tucker’s apologies as he herds them upstairs, they’ll find something else to keep them busy till it’s time for them to leave.

 Afterall, he can always clean up the glass later.

—

It’s 5:00pm

—

Dinner had been a bust. A lackluster, muted occasion, the cloud of disappointment wafting over his parents hangs so heavily he can practically feel it as it smogs over his skin and creeps into his lungs. He tries to ignore the curl of guilt taking residence under his skin.

 When Danny figures it’s socially acceptable, he mumbles a quiet “I’m sorry the portal didn’t work”, ignores how it sounds like he’s lying through his teeth, ignores how he sort of is. Places his plate in the sink and flees.

—

It’s 9:00pm

—

The glow-in-the-dark stars on Danny’s ceiling are formed into multiple constellations and sections of the milky way. He remembers hours upon his Dad's shoulders as his mum supervised from the floor and Jazz laughed, laying starfish spread on the carpet. He misses the feeling, treasures the warmth the memory brings and the reminders of love tucked into the stars.

 Danny spends sleepless nights like these tracing the patterns, naming the stars. Most of the time it calms him, helps, but in the eerie stifling stillness blanketing the house, it doesn’t.

His parents didn’t even try going down to the lab, instead retiring early, Danny imagines he could hear the badly muffled sobs coming from his father and the occasional interjectory sniffle from his mom. The guilt turns his stomach, the feeling of anger and frustration he’d felt as the whirring of the machine went down and it turned out to be another fluke, another Fenton failure, he was still the son of two crazies, great. Danny is better than that, he should be.

 The glass is still there, he has to clean it. Danny gets up

—

It’s 1:00am

—

Cleaning up the glass spirals into an all out cleaning affair of sorts. Which means that Danny wanders around the lab voluntarily for the first time in years picking things up and setting them into piles. He knows better than to shift stuff around too much so he sets loose papers into some semblance of order, rights leaning beakers, gets distracted puzzling over schematics and the scrawling handwriting of his mother detailing plans and equations,he can’t figure out but is too fascinated to drop. He picks up empty trays of what he can assume to have been treacle his dad had most likely set aside out of sight of his mother and forgotten to retrieve. Danny busies himself trying and failing to ignore the hulking gape in the wall.

Eventually, Danny wanders over to it, he’s run out of reasons not to. 

It’s cold enough to sting even through the glove he’s wearing and briefly Danny wanders what sort of material it’s made of. Planes and rocket ships are made of Titanium and Aluminium and while Gadolinium is the coldest metal currently discovered Danny highly doubts his parents were getting their hands on Gadolinium even with all the grants they got. He could always ask, he guesses, he knows he won’t.

Danny is fourteen, curiosity itches away at him and the portal plans he’d taken a look at flash to the forefront of his mind. Maybe he could help, make them happy, ease away some of the guilt he feels inside. It’s a selfish thought but dammit it’s convincing enough.

 He nods to himself, just a quick poke around, he highly doubts he could make anything worse.

—

It’s 2:40am

—

 The hazmat suit as always is a pain to put on and he spends an embarrassing amount of time flailing about before finally, he’s all kit up…, well nothing could ever convince him to put on the helmets so maybe he’s technically missing something, it doesn’t matter.

 Danny grimaces as he notices the crinkled up sticker his Dad had ever benevolently bestowed upon him. He peels it off and blinks at the image of his dad’s beaming face, it’s impressive quality. Okay he decides and places the sticker on a table as he walks to the portal.

—

It’s 2:50am

—

The gaping maw in their basement is admittedly a little daunting so Danny understandably hesitates as he squints into the dark. He’s gotten this far however, he can’t exactly stop, Fenton pride and all that. Danny sighs and walks in, it’s cold.

—

It’s 2:52am

—

He probably should have brought a torch he realizes as he stumbles around. It’s pretty hard to poke around when he can’t exactly see anything. Running his hands all over the walls would be stupidity he normally would believe he’s incapable of, but as everything grows impossibly darker it starts to look like he has no choice in the matter. The famous Fenton stubbornness has led him farther into the portal than expected, Danny had no idea the damn thing was so long, it really shouldn’t be.

 Danny gives up. It’s late, it’s uncomfortably dark and he’s deeply regretting picking at his dinner.

He spins around, intent of carefully feeling his way out and starts reaching out to the wall.

 An alarm goes off, beeping loudly and echoing in the quiet. It’s startling.

Danny trips

In some ways the click of the button Danny catches himself on is louder than the echoing of the incessant beeping. He takes a second, nothing happens, he sighs then, and a quiet whir follows the sound of the breath exiting his lungs. Danny-

—

Danny is fourteen when he dies.

It takes an eternity and occurs in the blink of an eye.

 It burns

Lights him up from the inside with a force so ferocious he can’t help but scream.

It hurts

The scream ripping it’s way out of him claws his throat bloody.

He’s aflame

Danny is on fire, he’s made of flames and ashes. Sulfur is the breath coursing in his lungs and acid his lifeblood. His bones are of arsenic and his art beats to the tune of lightning strikes. Danny is dying

 Danny dies and death gives little reprieve. He does not want to be the fearful wrathful roiling being he becomes, born of pain and untethered from his very self.

Danny does not want to die, Danny wants to live, Danny wants-, Danny wants

 Want is a frail fickle things, want is a bold brazen thing

Danny comes back and comes back wrong .

The ectoplasm flows in molten waves and tethers his roiling flickering being to his body.

Danny is made , Danny becomes

—

Danny is alone

Stumbling out of the glowing pulsating doorway he is faced with the reflection of a malformation of a being, a ghastly cursed thing.

There is no breath in his lungs to scream when an unexpected flash of light recedes and Danny is faced with the reflection of something worse stood in place of the phantom.

 Himself

—

 It’s 3:00am

—

 Danny is alone

No one comes, no one arrives to soothe his terror, to hold him sweep gently away the hair plastered to his forehead and kiss away his tears.

 Danny is alone, he’s going to have to get used to it.

—

 The slow crawl back to his room is exhausting. There is lead in place of his bones and the reflection of a boy he does not recognize as himself haunting him.

The constellations on his ceiling invoke no comfort, the thought of galaxies prompt a deep feral desire in him, he knows yet not what it is.

He is a dead boy wrapped in hollow skin, a monster.

He closes his eyes

—

Danny walks around in his hollow skin wondering why no one can see the wrongness permeating his very being. The creature he has become, the abomination.

 It does not matter in the end.

The Lunch Lady is the first ghost of many, and things only get worse from there.

—

When Danny is fourteen the world ends, then stutters back into motion and keeps turning.

[paenling]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Damon Gray & Valerie Gray, Danny Fenton & Valerie Gray, Danny Fenton/Valerie Gray Characters: Valerie Gray, Damon Gray, Danny Fenton Additional Tags: Holiday Truce 2022, Gift Giving, Sleep Deprivation, Ice Skating, Fluff, Past Danny Fenton/Valerie Gray, Valerie Gray-centric, Post-Break Up, exes to idiots to maybe lovers again, Father-Daughter Relationship, Christmas Fluff, Miscommunication, Secret Identity Summary:

Nothing ever goes right. Not for anyone in Amity Park, but especially not for her. Things go wrong with such regularity, in fact, that for anything else to happen might as well be an air raid siren. And now? Anyone with common sense could tell her something’s off.

Nobody told Valerie about the winter truce.

My last-minute Holiday Truce gift for @summerssixecho! I hope you like it :)

[greatbigolhampuckjustforme]

friartuck feeling like being chaotic today may start a discord server for the whole school

irlweddnesdayaddams Tucker no!

friartuck tucker yes >:)

Happy Holidays, @sailor-toni I hope you like it! (I know it took a while but I would like to think it was worth it lol)

[tidehopper]

Happy Holiday Truce to @sorotrax ! You asked for a stargazing Danny, but I couldn’t resist adding the ghostie blobs too! Hope you like it!

[kostektyw]

"Isn't it beautiful?"

i think if Danny figured out to visit space in a way that's safe for humans he would love to share the experience :)

this is my truce gift for @closet-thing, happy holidays!! i was inspired by the space/stars prompt and also a mention of Jazz in another prompt that i didn't exactly follow :p

[phandomholidaytruce]

It’s here! Time for spooky gift sign ups!

[ionanana]

Firstly, sorry for the late read. I love this!! How jazz handles things is so up her alley. Tucker and Sam’s support is the best. Why would you even believe Skulker? lol. Technus is a whole other box of circuits.

When I wrote this prompt didn’t think I would get sick. lol It was BAD. I was both Jazz and Danny cuz when I partially healed my family got sick. Quick healing with a mild cough. Ricola Lemon mint was a lifesaver.

This was a nice read. I appreciate it

Thank you again!!

Holiday Truce 2022

Summary: For @ionanana

A sick and sleep deprive Danny is failing to balance his ghost hunting and student task efficiently. Eventually, his body can’t keep up and he collapses, unable to do his night routine:

Danny only got up to his elbows before Jazz pushed him down, back onto his bed again. “You need to recover. Lay down!”

“No. I have a job to do.” Danny fought through a cough. “Who’s gonna do it? You?”

The girl swiped his thermos off his desk. “Yes.” Her hard look pierced him. “You better still be here, sleeping when I get back."

Word Count: 4,542

AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Notes:

Merry Christmas! Happy New Years! And Happy Holidays! Here is my holiday truce story, for @ionanana ! I went with your second prompt.

Prompt 2:Sick and sleep deprive Danny failing to balance his ghost hunting and student task efficiently. (Anxiously and angst Danny) His body can’t keep up and collapse. Not able to do his night routine for a few days. “You need to recover GO lay down!” “No I have a job. Who will cover for me! You?”

So enjoy a sick fic with some light angst. Warnings for mentions of blood and injury. Mentions of snot, vomit, and other sickness related ickiness. Mild cursing.

“Lunch. Finally.” Danny groaned with tired relief, approaching his friends’ lunch table.

The boy dropped his tray onto the surface…. And scowled. The plastic tray clattered, dropped too roughly. His peas rolled off the plate, the meatloaf sliding with a juicy squelch. His water bottle wobbled and tipped. The lid, un-securely fastened, popped free, water pouring out all over his mediocre lunch. 

The half ghost rubbed his head, words slipping out through a sudden cough. “Can you… not?” He narrowed his eyes, complaining at his lunch as if that could make it ignore the normal course of gravity.

Tucker offered him a sympathetic wince. “At least your milk survived.”

“But the rest of my lunch is ruined.” Danny sniffed, sinking into his seat with crossed arms. 

The boy didn’t even bother cleaning the mess, instead ripping open the milk carton and downing it. Frowning, he started fishing peas out of the lake that his food had become.

“It’s been one of those days, huh?” Sam offered, holding out an apple.

Danny dropped the spoon, giving up after the first soggy bite. “One of those weeks.” He took the fruit and bit it. “The ghosts won’t leave me alone.” He grumbled. “Desiree. Technus. Skulker. Johnny and Kitty. Even the freaking Box Ghost.” A yawn. “And then there were all these ghost animals last night. Rabbits, deer, wolves, freaking penguins. I keep catching them. And. They. Keep. Coming. Back.” The boy dropped the apple core, rubbing his face. “It’s like they can’t stay in the portal for five seconds.”

“When’s the last time you slept?” His goth friend’s eyes shone with worry.

“I don’t know.” Danny whined. “Monday maybe.”

“It’s Thursday, Danny.” Tucker deadpanned. 

The half ghost shrugged, finishing the apple.

“Maybe you should skip next period and take a nap.” The technogeek offered quietly.

Sam leaned forward conspiratorially. “Yeah, we’ll cover for you. You should rest.”

“I…” Cough. “Can’t.” Danny shook his head. “I’ve got a quiz next period. And last period, we’re doing the review lesson before the test tomorrow. I already missed so much this unit. I need to take notes. And after school….” A groan. “I managed to convince Skulker to wait until after class to try to skin me. And I’ve got so much homework.”

“Dude.” Tucker’s eyes widened, like he was the one about to be skinned, not Danny. “Let us handle Skulker if he shows up.”

“If.” The half ghost chucked, drily. “He will. If there’s any time that you can trust his word, it’s when he’s talking about skinning me.”

“We’ll cover for you with class. And you can copy off me for the homework later.” Sam continued, ignoring the statement. “Go get some sleep. We’ll deal with the ghost.”

“No, guys. Skulker’s my responsibility.” He reached for his water bottle; there were a few unspilled sips. “And you cover for me all the time. You’ll get in trouble again. I can’t- Achoo!” 

Briefly, icy blue light flashed in his hand, his core jolting. With a gasp, Danny dropped the water bottle. The supercooled plastic shattered, sending shards of ice splattering across the table. The half ghost groaned, frustratedly face planting onto the table.

“Danny…” Sam’s soft, concerned voice.

Of course, then his ghost sense went off.

Danny stood with hardly a thought. He wobbled slightly, a sudden tiredness weighing down on him. “Hopefully, I’ll be back before next period starts.”

“Danny, wait.” His friends called after. 

The boy hurried off, half aware of his friends quickly following. But he couldn’t think about them, couldn’t worry. He needed to find a place to transform, figure out who the ghost was, and deal with them before they possessed someone. Or threw knives at them. Or destroyed more public property which Phantom would, of course, get blamed for. Like he had any control over what walls Technus threw him into.

Danny rounded the corner. There, the boy’s bathroom. He’d dip into a stall and-

Another puff of his ghost sense and ghost alarm went off. Sam and Tucker yelled behind him, their footsteps quickening. Three seconds later….

“I’ve got you, welp!” 

A metal hand pulled him through the ceiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Skulker is a f-king liar.” Danny cursed to himself, flying back to the school. One hand clasped hard around the forearm of the other, a meager effort to keep the ectoplasm gushing from the slash where it belonged. “Wait ‘til after school my ass, you ectoplasmic slime.”

The hunter had grabbed him, dragging him to the football field before Danny even thought to transform. The half ghost pulled out of the hold, hightailing it back to the school for his thermos… only to end up chased by Skulker for the next hour.

Downtown, over the mall, in the woods at the edge of town. The mechanical ghost stabbed and blasted. Danny dodged and shot back. 

Skulker, leering over him. The half ghost darted down but…. the mech was still an arm’s length away. A miss-timed sneeze. Danny blinked. Skulker slashed with his blade.

“Ow! You tin can!” The boy growled out, arm screaming from his wound.

Somehow, he’d managed to get the other ghost in the thermos, despite the pain and fatigue dragging him down.

Now, Danny phased through the school’s roof and into the janitor’s closet. He landed soundlessly, his tail morphing back into legs. 

The boy scowled, holding the occupied thermos up to his face. “I should squish you, like a bug. It wouldn’t ever be hard. You… you gloop of jello.” No response came from the container. Danny frowned, shaking his head. “I’m too tired for this.”

He put down the thermos and summoned the rings. With a flash of light, he was human again, warm, solid, and oh so tired. 

A yawn. The boy moved his hand, to cover his mouth. And- “Shit.” A stab of pain. He glared down at the injury. “Great. I’m still bleeding.”

Letting out a defeated sigh, Danny slid down the wall, slumping on the floor. He turned his hands intangible and pulled the first aid kit out of the ground.

With bleary eyes, he wrapped the cut. Another yawn. “So… tired.” He coughed. “Stupid cold.” 

One final tug on the fabric and the bandage was secured. He lowered both arms to his side, his head rolling back to brush the wall. “Should get up and get to class. What time is it anyway?” He stared at the ceiling, as if it had the answer. A blink. “Right. My phone.”

He pulled the device out of his pocket and dimly stared at the numbers. A groan. “Great. I missed the quiz.” There were only five minutes left in his third period. “No point in going to class now.” 

Danny hung his head. He was so tired… He sniffed. “Just…. Five minutes. Then I’ll get up. Five minutes…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The half ghost jerked up with a gasp. Where was- Oh, the janitor’s closet…. He was still in the janitor’s closet? Blearily, he flailed for his phone. Had he fallen asleep? He must have fallen asleep…

He blinked at the time. Ten minutes ‘til school let out. He…he slept through all of fourth period. “No.” The boy complained, reaching up to rub his eyes. He sniffled, his hand going to his nose and.. “Gross.” He grimaced. Great. Now his nose was running. 

The phone in his hand vibrated. Danny turned his head down to look. A text from Tucker. 

Dude, r u comin 2 class? 

A frown… right. His friends hadn’t heard anything from him since he’d left at lunch. He typed out a quick response.

Fight w Skulker went long. Im just going home.

A few seconds later.

Go get some sleep! Sam insisted.

Danny snorted. As if he could do that, not with all the work he had to do.

The boy stood, stretching out stiff muscles. He winced. “Remind me not to sleep sitting up.” He said to no one in particular.

Danny picked up the thermos. With another flash of light -briefly making his head throb- he transformed and flew away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minutes later, he arrived home. Landing in his room, he changed back. Lucky for him, his parents were out of town at a conference; putting Skulker back in the portal was easier than ever.

That task down, Danny sat down to work on homework. Brow scrunting, he looked around for his bookbag. “Where is it?” He rubbed his forehead, just a spark of pain blooming there. “I left it at school. Stupid…”

He sent a text. I left my hw @ school. :( Can u bring it 2 me?

An affirmative from Sam and the half ghost just sat to wait.

Twenty minutes later… the front door opened downstairs. Three pairs of footsteps proceeded up the stairs. A knock sounded at his door.

“Come in.” Danny called.

The door opened. It was Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

His sister frowned, eyeing the bandage on his arm. “Are you alright?”

The half ghost waved her off. “Skulker barely scratched me.”

“Are you sure?” Jazz asked.

“Yes, I’m-” Cough. “Sure.” Danny frowned. Stupid body betraying him.

“You’re getting sick too?” His sister’s eyes shone with worry. 

“It’s not that bad.” The half ghost denied, despite the growing headache, nose feeling like it was full of cotton. 

His friends and sister traded skeptical looks; they didn’t believe him….

“Look.” Danny waved his hands, quickly trying to divert that train of thought. “Did you guys get my homework?”

Tucker started. “Danny, I think you need to sleep, not worry about-”

“I did sleep.” The ghost boy interrupted. He blushed, realizing what he’d said. “I mean…. I got back so late from fighting Skulker that there was no point going to class so I took a quick nap. And I feel so much better now.” It wasn’t a complete lie, right? “So I’m good to go. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to catch up on…”

More worried looks were traded, while Danny tried his best to look innocent and perfectly healthy, like his nose wasn’t actively trying to become a facet. 

Finally, Sam sighed. “Fine.” She pulled sheets of paper out of her bag. “Here are the notes from the review in history today.” 

“And this is from science.” Tucker offered more notes. 

Jazz crossed her arms, still scowling. Then, tentatively… “Alright.” She sighed, pulling something out of her bag. “I told Mr. Faluca that you were sick and went home. Which is apparently true….” She narrowed her eyes. “He gave me this make-up quiz and said you could do it at home.”

His sister held out the sheet. Danny reached for it but at the last minute… “Hey!” Jazz pulled it away.

“At least take some cold medicine first.” 

Danny’s own eyes narrowed. “I don’t need any.” 

A silent stare down ensued, Jazz holding the paper out of reach while the boy scowled. But Danny cracked first. “Fine.” His sister had learned that death glare from their mom after all. “I’ll take something.” 

“Good.” Jazz dropped the paper before turning around and leaving.

Sam raised an eyebrow while Tucker laughed. “Man, you really want to take that quiz, huh?”

Down the hallway, the bathroom door opened. 

Danny crossed his arms. “I don’t really have a choice.”

“You know. You could just rest. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you don’t get it done tonight.” Sam countered.

The boy winced at the wording. “I’m fine.” He ground through his teeth.

Jazz returned with various bottles of liquid and pills. “Pain Reliever and Fever reducer.” She pointed. “Nasal Decongestant. Cough Suppressant. Expectorant.” She picked up a bag of what looked like colorful wrapped hard candies. “Cough Drops. These are really good for a sore throat.”

Danny just stared at all the options.

“Here.” With a roll of her eyes, Jazz handed him two pills and a bottle of water. He duly swallowed. “And this.” She poured some thick orange liquid into a clear cup. 

The ghost boy also took and swallowed that. He stuck out his tongue. “The grape tastes better.”

“Well, we only had the orange.” Jazz crossed her arms. “I’m leaving these here. And don’t push it with the homework.” She pointed threateningly. “I’ll heat up some soup for dinner and call you when it’s done.”

“Fine.” Danny complained, downing the rest of the water bottle. “And… thank you.” His shoulders lowered, just a hint of gratitude in his voice. His sister and friends were trying to help him out after all, even if he really didn’t need to be babied like this.

Jazz just nodded in acknowledgement before turning to leave.

“We should head out too.” Tucker said sheepishly, clearly not wanting to go.

“Yeah. I wasn’t supposed to come over in the first place.” Sam crossed her arms. “Mom’s still pissed about last week.”

Danny winced at the reminder. “Yeah… Sorry.” That had been his fault after all; they wouldn’t have been out fighting ghosts at three am if it wasn’t for him.

“It’s not your fault.” Tucker offered, eyes softening.

That really wasn’t true…. But Danny didn’t argue. Instead he wished his friends a good night, promising to call or text if he needed help with anything, ghost or homework related.

Now alone, Danny turned his attention to his homework. He coughed, the motion shaking his lungs, his chest. He grabbed for a tissue, grimacing at the feeling on his tongue. He spit. Well, the expectorant was already working. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny groaned, rubbing his aching head. “No! Not! Again!” Cold mist poured out of his mouth and he almost felt like crying.

He’d been home for five hours and his ghost sense still wouldn’t stop going off. He’d fought the Box Ghost, a weird cat, a bunch of ghostly dudes in suits, a snake with two heads, and what might have been a minotaur.

“Who is it…” A lung hacking cough. “now?!” 

A hysterical cackle echoed from out his window. “Ghost child! It is I Technus! Master of all things electronic and-”

Danny transformed, body slamming the ghost. “Why can’t you leave me- Achoo! Alone?!” He sneezed, sending shards of ice shooting out.

“Careful! My circuits!” The electronic ghost shocked him. 

The half ghost let go, falling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, Danny slunk home, metaphorical tail between his legs. He’d captured the ghost, but not before Technus devastated the local Apple Store. The boy phased through his window, flopping onto his bed. 

“Stupid” Cough. “Technus” Cough. “Stupid ghosts.” Cough. “Stupid electricity.” Cough. “Why’d he’d have to” Cough. “Electrocute me?!” Cough.

Danny’s chest shook, coughs racking his body. He transformed and-

Exhaustion crashed over him. He saged, hardly able to sit up. So tired….

Another coughing fit. He flailed for water. There. Jazz must have left that while he was gone. That was nice.

He practically inhaled the liquid. Then….

His eyes flitted to his bed, the papers and books spread around him. His gaze misted. He’d been sitting on this bed, trying to do homework for hours. But his stupid ghost sense kept going off… So many ghosts… he’d barely ever started.

There was so much homework. That essay for Lancer; they’d just finished… what was it? Of Mice and Men or something like that. And the math worksheets. A make-up quiz of science; Mr Faluca let him take it at home, open book, but that was just more work. And there’s the history test. He needed to study. And an art project. How was he supposed to come with what to draw? 

His eyes were swimming. He could barely keep them open. There was so much to do and he just wanted to sleep. But… but…

Danny struggled to focus on his science quiz. He had to do this. He had to. He had to get a good grade. How was he supposed to get into NASA if he was failing science? How was he supposed to become an astronaut if he was failing all his classes?!

Him, an astronaut…. He sniffed, his chest shaking with another cough. A wet chuckle exited. Him, an astronaut. Who was he kidding? He’d be lucky if he ever got into a community college at the rate, let alone Nasa. And it’s not like he would pass the physicals, not with his weird ghostly biology. 

He’d never be an astronaut. Ten years from now, he’d be working at the Nasty Burger. Or if he was lucky, he’d take over FentonWorks. Another laugh, this one almost hysterical. He’d be fighting ghosts, for the rest of his life.

Just then, his ghost sense puffed out of his mouth, again. Danny whined, the sound watery. “Why me?” He stood from the bed, wobbling. His knees buckled.

“Woah.” Jazz’s hands appeared on his shoulders. When had she come in? “I think you need to go to bed.”

Danny flopped down, lithlessly. Everything was swimming. He blinked. It wouldn’t clear up. But… “No.” He muttered.

“Yes.” The word was direct, without question, punctuated by his sister closing his binder and shoving it onto his desk. “Lay down. I’ll get you some more cold medicine.”

“No.” Another shaky effort to stand. “I need to…” Go fight the ghost. He hated it. He hated it but he had to. It was his fault. 

“Danny.” Jazz scowled, gently pushing him back down with one hand. “Rest. You need to sleep.”

The boy breathed out more cool, blue mist. He groaned again. “Ghost sense.” The ghosts, the portal were his fault and someone could get hurt, because he wasn’t there. “I have to-”

He only got up to his elbows before Jazz pushed him down again. “You need to recover. Lay down!”

“No. I have a job to do.” Danny fought through a cough. “Who’s gonna do it? You?”

The girl swiped his thermos off his desk. “Yes.” Her hard look pierced him. “You better still be here, sleeping when I get back. Or I’ll use this on you.”

The boy huffed; he couldn’t argue anymore. Not with his head throbbing, vision swimming, nose running, throat aching. Everything hurt…

Defeated, he collapsed onto the bed.

“Drink this.�� Jazz shoved another cup, this one with red liquid, into his face. “Open up.” Obediently, he drank and swallowed.

“Yucky.” He winced. 

“It’ll help you sleep.” His sister reassured, head turning as if looking for something.

Cold air stirred in his lungs again. “Jazz, the ghost…” He half-slurred.

“There it is.” Jazz’s eyes widened. She reached under his bed for… the ectogun he kept under there. “I’ll deal with it. You sleep.”

The boy whined in his throat, worry blossoming.

“I’ll be fine.” His sister stood and walked toward the door. She paused at the threshold. “Sleep well, little brother.”

The lights flickered off and Jazz closed the door, leaving in darkness. 

“Jazz.” The boy whimpered her name. 

But his sister didn’t hear it, off to confront whatever danger he should have been. He should get up and help her, at least. She couldn’t handle the ghost on her own. He couldn’t…

The darkness pulled the half ghost under, sleep taking him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time passed in flashing moments. Brief snatches of consciousness. His ghost sense, still going off. So cold. So many ghosts. Another breath. It felt so cool….

He laughed, blearily. It almost felt good, like… like… What was it? Something Jazz gave him to put in his mouth and… make his throat feel better. It was like…. Cough drop. It was like a cough drop.

Something cold and… metal? In his mouth, under his tongue. Blurry red hair. She was… shaking something? “You’re way too hot.” 

A cup, a white oblong pill. “Take this.” Medicine. He needed to swallow the medicine.

“Good job.” Jazz patted his head.

Jazz… she went off to do… something. Stomach churning with worry. Was she okay? Was she safe? The ghosts… did they hurt…

Danny drifted off again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later. The smell of chicken broth and noodles. 

“Here.” Jazz helped him sit up. “You need to eat.”

Danny sniffed the food and…his stomach turned. He shook his head, trying his nose away. “Icky.”

“I know you feel icky. It’ll be better if you eat.”

His insides churned. His mouth tasted hot and acidy. But Jazz said it would help? Maybe he should try.

A tentative sip….

Danny turned to the side and gagged, throwing up in the trash can.

Jazz rubbed his back, whipped off his face. “We’ll try something else.”

Chalky pink medicine. Ginger ale and crackers. Danny managed to a few sips and nibbles before he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashing green lights. Shouts. Curses. A familiar cold. An electric hum…The sounds of a fight. 

Panic claws up his throat. Ghost fight. There was a ghost fight. He needed to get up. Needed to stop the ghost. But… so tired. Everything was so heavy. 

“Use your words. You don’t have to-” That was Jazz. “Ah! Now that was uncalled for. I’m trying to help. Now you listen.” Jazz was…

Fuzzy blackness pulled him down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awakening. Sweat running down his back. Shaking hands. A cold rag on his head. Someone was giving him gatorade. It was grape.

A beep. “In the park.” Tucker’s voice.

“I’ve got it.” Sam. The sound of an ectogun priming.

Why do his friends look blurry? They walked out the door… “Where…” Danny mumbled, weakly reaching.

“They’re dealing with the ghost.”

Eyes darted up, focusing. Red hair, a worried smile. Jazz. Jazz was safe. But… “Ghost?” His core pulsed, anxious.

“They know what they’re doing.” Fingers brush through his hair. “Do you want to try some food, now that you’re awake?”

Danny nodded, too tired and fuzzy to argue. Jazz offered a cracker.

A relieved smile as he finished. “Good job. I’ll bring you some soup.”

The half ghost fell asleep before she returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny blinked awake. His eyes focused, taking in… the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. He could actually see them and…. A breath, through his nose. Through his nose?

The boy sneezed and his core churned. A cold burn on his face, his eyes…. A brief flash of blue. And.. a cloud of snow shot up, over his face. The flasks slowly drifted down.

Danny laughed, still a little fuzzy. “It’s… snowing.”

The door opened. “You’re awake.” Jazz’s eyes lit up.

Her hand on his forehead. After a thoughtful pause… “Open up.” A… thermometer, that’s what that was. An awkward few seconds. The device beeped and… “Your fever finally broke.” His sister sighed, relieved.

A brief bubble of relief stirred in his chest but…. He was forgetting something. Something happened. Worry churned…

“Do you want something to eat?” Jazz offered,

Numbly, Danny nodded. 

Minutes later, the girl returned with a bowl. The half ghost didn’t complain as she spooned chicken noodle soup into his mouth.

He was forgetting something. He’d been sick, was still sick. Still so tired. And hungry… His eyes flickered over his desk. So many books and papers…

Eyes widened slightly. He’d had a bunch of homework to do. But… no, that wasn’t… The ghosts. What happened to the….

Danny fell asleep again, in the middle of his dinner, before he could ask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The half ghost jolted up, ravenously hungry. His stomach grumbled, churning, practically trying to eat itself. 

“Ugg. What hit me?” He mumbled out, throat sore. He rubbed the spot; at least, he wasn’t coughing up a lung. He’d have to count his blessings. 

Danny’s head turned, surveying the room. His bedroom, still. Bright light poured through the curtain. It was probably the early afternoon. But… what day was it? How long had he been sick? And…

A puff of cold swirled in his lungs. His ghost sense. In an instant, Danny was standing. The ghosts! He’d been out of it for who knows how long and they’d been running free doing god knows what. The town must be in ruins. And his friends and family… where were they? What happened?

A brief memory flashed. 

“No. I have a job to do.” Danny complained through a cough. “Who’s gonna do it? You?”

The girl swiped his thermos off his desk. “Yes.” A hard look. “You better still be here, sleeping when I get back. Or I’ll use this on you.”

Jazz! No! No! No! Jazz must have gone after the ghost. Damn it! He was the one that started this, that turned on the portal. He was the one that put everyone in danger. This was his responsibility. 

Touching his core with his mind, Danny willed himself to transform but… his chest spasmed weakly. The ring of light formed around his torso before sputtering and going out. He was still too tired. 

But there was a ghost somewhere, nearby, close. He needed to deal with it. He couldn’t keep slacking off, couldn’t let the ghosts put his loved ones in danger anymore.

Danny bent down, sweeping under the bed. There! His wristray! Wielding the ray with one hand, the boy hurried out. What direction…. Down the hall! A foreign ectosignature swirled through the air, not twenty feet away.

Voices rang through the house, one familiar one and ….someone was crying. The half ghost followed the noise. Jazz’s room…

Danny threw the door open. 

“No one ever listened! Not… not before and not now. The only thing I was ever good at was music. It’s… it’s the only thing I’m good for but no one ever… ever listened. Even cared. Not my parents. Not my classmates. Or my so-called friends.” Ember (Ember!?) sniffed. “Why wouldn’t they just… just listen? Why wasn’t I good enough?”

What… what the… Ember and… Jazz?!

Jazz’s hand reached for the ghost’s arm, offering a comforting touch. “That wasn’t your fault, Ember. Don’t blame yourself. You are good enough, no matter what they say or don’t say, okay? Remember what we talked-”

“Jazz?” Danny finally spoke, sense breaking through his spinning confusion. “Ember?”

The ghost stiffened, shoulders raising. “Looks like the party’s over. Dipstick’s awake.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Jazz said.

“What’s…” The boy sputtered, motioning to the scene in front of him.

“I said I’d deal with the ghosts.” Jazz raised an eyebrow, challengingly. “And this is me dealing with them, my way.”

Danny just stared, open mouthed, mind struggling to process.

“Now go. Get something to eat. Ember and I aren’t done talking yet.”

“But… but…” The half ghost stuttered.

Ignoring her brother’s confusion, Jazz turned back to her chair. “Where were we?”

The rocker ghost smirked. “Yeah, get something to eat, Babypop. You look like death warmed over.”

At that, the half ghost’s mouth closed. His eye twitched. “Yeah. I’ll… I’ll do that.” 

Slowly, he closed the door, his eyes not leaving the two teens, as if…. If he looked away, they’d disappear. But finally, the door shut, blocking his vision with a click. 

Danny stared into the middle distance. What was that? A fever-induced hallucination? Was he still asleep on his bed, in the throws of his sickness? He’d think so but…. The boy shook his head. He wasn’t creative enough to come up with this. So, instead….

“Holy shit, Jazz. How?!”

Inside his sister’s room, two voices, one ghostly echoing and one humanly flat, laughed.

Note: I hope you guys enjoyed it, especially my giftee. I had been hoping to get this posted before Christmas but unfortunately didn't have time to edit it with all the packing, wrapping, and baking. Plus the sad irony of writing a sick fic and then getting sick myself two days before Christmas. Luckily, I wasn't as bad off as Danny, even if I'm still struggling with a bit of a cough and sore throat. 😢 Despite that, I had a good Christmas. I hope you did too. :)

[paenling]

a fort of lovers’ teeth

I was chosen as a backup gifter for the Phandom Holiday Truce! This is a gift for @bubblegumbeech​ :)

[Ao3 Link]

Word Count:  9114 Warnings: Horror elements, supernatural violence, some scary imagery

At the moment Star looked up, several things happened at once. The pleasant autumn evening turned bitter, raising a ripple of gooseflesh on her bare arms. Her skin crawled; an almost-touch slid down her spine, prickling between her shoulders. The wind ran its claws through her hair. A strange pressure stole the air from her lungs.

And Paulina was gone.

(Full text below the cut!)

Paulie was waiting for Star when she got off work at the mall. They walked shoulder to shoulder on the way out to the parking lot, chatting idly as they went. Star wrestled with her bike lock in the pink light of the setting sun, but basked a little in the warm rise and fall of her girlfriend’s voice.

“It’s not too late for dinner,” said Paulina beside her, “if you’re up for it. We can also pick it up and eat at your place if you’d rather be in your pajamas.”

Star shot off a quick text to her parents to let them know she was with Paulina, then bent to unzip her bag and put the lock away. “No, no, I don’t mind sitting down. It’s been way too long since we went out,” she replied. “Did you still want to go to that new—” 

At the moment Star looked up, several things happened at once. The pleasant autumn evening turned bitter, raising a ripple of gooseflesh on her bare arms. Her skin crawled; an almost-touch slid down her spine, prickling between her shoulders. The wind ran its claws through her hair. A strange pressure stole the air from her lungs.

And Paulina was gone.

Star leapt to her feet, not caring that her bike fell to the pavement with a clatter. She sucked in a shaky breath and cast about, only to find the lot was empty. No people, no cars. The nearest street lamp guttered but didn’t go out. Its light was cold and dim, easily outstripped by the fullness of the moon. She looked back down. Paulina’s pink bike was still leaned halfway up against the rack, lock unfastened and swinging limply, as though it had been dropped. As though the hands touching it had simply vanished.

A sickening chill washed over her and tears pricked at Star’s eyes, but she steeled herself. This was Amity Park, after all. Weird things happened all the time here. Buildings and vehicles tended to get damaged or destroyed, and that was scary, but almost nobody ever actually got hurt, she tried to reassure herself. It didn’t work; this felt different. 

Ghosts wanted attention from the living, but Paulie had vanished without a sound. Something was wrong.

The street light flickered a little more insistently, dimming almost to nothing before popping back to its expected brightness as though nothing had been wrong with it. The next lamp started to dim and flash, then the next, then another—a quickening trail, leading away from the mall. Whatever had taken Paulina was moving.

Star fought her trembling limbs to right her bike and mount it. As she gave chase, the flickering lights began to move faster. The icy air burned in her lungs, but she stood on her pedals and pumped her legs regardless. What she was going to do when she caught up to the thing, Star wasn’t sure, but she knew she had to keep up with it—no one would know where Paulina had gone if she didn’t. 

When the distance between them finally threatened to close, the invisible ghost leapt ahead of her with a burst of energy and a bang like a gunshot. The bulb over her head exploded. Star shouted and swerved to avoid a rain of shattered glass, but her front tire slipped off the curb. 

Her bike slid out from under her, the top tube crashing between her legs in a starburst of eye-watering pain. The bike tipped over and Star kept going forward without it, skinning her chin and forearms on the asphalt as she went.

It took untold ages for her to come to a stop, and even longer for the world to quit spinning around her. Her racing heart screamed with urgency, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate, and it was all she could do to grit her teeth until her body finally forgave her. Breathless and swearing, Star rolled onto her back. She propped herself up and craned her neck, squinting into the row of street lights ahead of her. 

None of them so much as winked. Star let herself collapse onto her back with a strangled sob. She’d lost them. 

What could she do? Call the Fentons? She sat up again and fumbled through her pockets for her phone, but sometime between leaving the mall and getting here it had gone from half-full to entirely dead. The lights, the chill—the ghost must have sucked the power out. What now? She swore and glanced over to her bike, sprawled out on its side like roadkill. 

Her phone was out, but she could go to Fentonworks and get help directly, she decided. As much as the crash had hurt, nothing was broken, and her bike didn’t look seriously damaged. She could ride again. That could work. She started to get up, but for the second time that evening the air was stolen from her lungs.

A sudden absence appeared in the space beside her, a frigid photonegative of human presence. It rippled into the visible spectrum, looming and backlit by unearthly green light. A ghost.

She shrieked and scrambled back, groping for something to defend herself with. Her fingers closed on a decent-sized shard of glass, thick and sharp. Star brandished it in front of her even as it cut into her palms, heart thundering in her ears. Not that it would do anything against something already dead, she thought bitterly. Oh—she was going to die, wasn’t she?

“Star?” The voice, despite its hair-raising harmonies of electric discharge and radio static, was familiar enough to punch the fight right out of her—or most of it, anyway. “Are you okay?” 

His pale irises left afterimages like radium floodlights, tracking her with concern, or at least interest. Cast in the vibrating shadow of his own ghostly aura, his downturned mouth glowed in the dark as though under blacklight. It somehow managed to bare just as many teeth as his usual Cheshire grin. Despite the uncommon expression on his face, there was no mistaking him.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He lurched into her space and pulled the glass from her hands—intangibly through her hands, she realized after a beat, because they were still clenched into red-streaked fists. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she said. She knew she was a mess, but she had to try.

Phantom leaned in far too close for comfort. He huffed icy breath in her face, anxious green tongue flicking out past his lips. His attention lingered conspicuously on the stains between her aching fingers. “You’re bleeding. Go home and get that looked at, there’s—”

“A ghost? I know.” She set her jaw and pointed past the broken street lights. “I think it went that way, and I’m coming with you.”

Phantom narrowed his eyes and backed off, albeit unhappily. “Are you crazy?” He hissed, lips peeled back to reveal vibrant green gums and fangs as long as her fingers. “No way! This ghost is new. I don’t know what they want or how they’ll take it when I tell them ‘no.’ Not risking it.”

Star felt the need to point out that, for all the people in Amity Park who loved their resident Phantom to bits and trusted him implicitly, they always did so from a very safe distance.

Even if she’d long since outgrown that unfortunate crush, maybe it said something about Paulina’s dubious attraction to men that this was the only guy she'd ever really been into—ambiguously posthuman nightmare fuel with far more teeth than sense. In blurry photos and distorted phone footage it was easy to insert the image of a dashing white-haired youth, just an upstanding guy with ghost powers, but in person it was very clear he was anything but. 

Star would be lying if she said she was never glad to have him around, but she held fast to her reservations. Someone had to. Right then and there, close enough to count his white eyelashes in the dark, she wasn’t especially willing to change that.

Ordinarily, she’d cut her losses and leave it at that. But for Paulina? Star was willing to test her luck.

“Listen,” she insisted. “I’m not asking. I’m coming with you. That thing has—it has Paulina! And I’m not leaving her behind, especially if it’s as dangerous as you say.”

All at once, Phantom’s aura of vague menace sharpened to a threatening point. Faint green sparks arced over his narrow shoulders. At first Star flinched, but as it settled she could tell by feeling alone that his anger was no longer directed at her. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t still lash out, though—he was still a ghost. Unpredictable, erratic, irrational.

“They took a hostage?” he breathed. The static beneath his voice crackled louder. He sounded enough like a Geiger counter for Star to edge away on principle.

Still, she nodded. “Please, Phantom. I need to know she’s okay.”

She hadn’t expected her begging to work, but the ghost softened immediately. His long ears drooped just the barest bit, and his lips relaxed to hide his teeth. “Dammit. Fine.”

“Really?” 

“You think we have time to argue? C’mon!”

He made a low sound like an idling motorcycle and wrapped his long black tail around her waist. Reflexively, Star threw out a hand to brace herself against him and immediately recoiled, shivering and revulsed. He was impossibly smooth to the touch and so cold beneath her palm he almost felt wet. She wiped her hand on her shirt to try and escape the sensation of slime between her fingers, but nothing came off.

“Jeez, I showered this morning,” Phantom quipped, but it was clear his heart wasn’t in it. He gently tightened his tail under her armpits and hoisted her to her feet. Each motion was delicate, but Star couldn’t help the jump of her heart, the fear of being constricted. As soon as her legs were under her, thankfully, he withdrew and offered up his hand instead.

“Can you track them down?” Star asked. She hooked her arm around his elbow with an ill-repressed shudder.

“Sure can,” he chirped, but that false cheer did little to disguise the tautness in his grip. Ghosts weren’t supposed to have things like tendons or bones, but they also weren’t supposed to exist, and Star was acutely aware of his tense bicep trembling against the crook of her arm. He seemed just as nervous as she was.

A prickling cold rippled over Star and she couldn’t keep from yelping. Her stomach swooped at the realization that gravity no longer applied to them, then dropped out of her entirely as the street fell away. She clung to Phantom despite herself, aching wherever his icy flesh touched her skin. Rooftops blurred below them and whatever time they’d wasted bickering was easily made up.

Almost as soon as they passed out of town limits Phantom pivoted. He exhaled a frigid plume of blue vapor, breath rattling, and turned sharply perpendicular to the highway.

“Down there?” Star asked. “In the woods?”

He answered her with static. It was something like garbled radio chatter that resolved only vaguely into words she understood. “Yeah. Getting close now. Don’t be scared.”

Was she afraid? Despite all the ways Phantom unsettled her, she found herself feeling relatively safe in his presence. He was dangerous, but not to her, at least not then. Whether he was capable of real altruism or not really didn’t matter, even if the Drs. Fenton insisted otherwise. Star didn’t care if he was secretly selfish as long as he kept people safe when it came down to the wire—and he did, so she wasn’t really worried for herself.

Wind groaned through the browning leaves, and branches reached towards them like talons as they descended into a bank of fog. She was worried, though.

Taking hostages didn’t work if there was nobody to ransom with. That it stole her in relative secret meant this ghost wanted something with Paulina, and that terrified Star. It hadn’t been long since she’d been taken, less than ten minutes at most, but anyone from Amity Park could tell you just how fast a motivated ghost could work. Dread swelled in her heart at the thought of what might have already happened in that short time—what she might discover when Paulina was finally found.

Star drew her free arm up around herself, shivering in the chill. 

She startled when Phantom shifted without warning to hold her against his breastbone instead of his side. His response was immediate: the aural static that followed him rippled, white noise giving way to something more purposeful, a steady, rhythmic thrum like the purr of a big cat. He put both long-fingered hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently, stroking with his thumbs. Star realized, between the touch and the vibration, that he was trying to soothe her.

“She’s probably not hurt,” Phantom said more clearly, though his echoing voice was still an octave lower than usual, warped strangely around the oscillating rumble in his chest. “I don’t smell any blood.” 

It was meant as a reassurance, clearly, but Star’s brain just stuck on the fact that he could.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Alright.”

It was undoubtedly a night for ghosts. Under the cover of the trees the pale moonlight only hit the ground in patches. Not sure what she was landing on, Star wobbled in the dark when she was lowered to the ground. Everything else was cast in deep purple shadows that invented ominous silhouettes from the bracken and moss. 

Phantom’s tail turned to legs when he touched down in front of her, heavy white boots perfectly soundless even as Star snapped twigs and rustled through the leaf litter. The length of his tail had obscured his true height while they were flying, so she was surprised and a little disturbed to realize he was shorter than her. He didn’t look back but kept cocking his head, tipping one pointed ear or the other towards her to verify her presence. Then they walked in silence. 

A little while seemed to stretch on forever until Phantom stopped short. He paused, shivered, and huffed out a billowing puff of blue vapor. Star was too late to hold her breath before she walked right into the cloud—and into Phantom’s back. Alarmed, she clapped her hands over her mouth and stumbled away, unwilling to breathe it in and risk making any more noise.

He whirled, hands raised as though to placate her. “Hey, shh! You’re fine. It’s just my ghost sense, alright? Means we’re getting warmer.”

She took a tiny sip of air. It tingled and chilled her throat like menthol, but otherwise didn’t bother her, so Star allowed herself a bigger breath. “Sorry.”

Phantom just shrugged. Though green sparks leapt over the ridge of his spine and danced between the white spikes of his hair, which stood on end like raised hackles, he didn’t lash out.

Instead, he sucked the lingering blue mist in through his mouth and swished it around, then blew it back out of his nose. She wasn’t sure if he was smelling, tasting, or employing some entirely different ghost-exclusive sense for which Star had no analogue—but either way it seemed to tell him something, because he nodded to himself and stalked ahead of her with newfound certainty.

He led her to a clearing under a sheer rock face that was overgrown with moss—and sheltered beneath it, the narrow entrance to a cave. Already claustrophobic at the thought of it, Star shuddered.

“Is Paulina in there?”

“Pretty sure,” he replied through another puff of icy mist. “The other ghost totally reeks, so I can’t sense her real well—but she’s definitely close.”

“Okay. Do you—” she swallowed. “Do you have a plan?”

“Not a great one,” he admitted, “but yeah. I’m gonna be loud, go off on ‘em for crashing my haunt. Once the fighting starts, I’ll need you to grab Paulina and book it back to town while we’re busy.” He paused to look over his shoulder, lambent eyes meeting hers with eerie intensity. “Can you do that, Star?”

Star nodded. “I… think so.”

“If you’re not sure where to run,” he added, “‘away’ is a good place to start. Worst case scenario I’ll find you guys after and take you back myself.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

At his nod she darted out from the cover of the trees and up to the mouth of the cave. Her heart sank at just how much narrower it was than it’d looked from afar. Assuming she could fit in at all, she’d have to shimmy sideways into the fissure.

“Hello? Is somebody out there? Hey! ¡Ayúdame!”

“Paulie!” Star cried. “Paulie, it’s me!”

Before she could answer Phantom shot past her, phasing intangibly into the dark crawlspace. Then, just as suddenly, he burst out again—this time with Paulina under his arm. He shoved her unceremoniously into Star’s arms and darted off without another word, but she found herself far too relieved to be bothered by his roughness.

“Paulie,” Star breathed, stroking her girlfriend’s tangled hair with both hands and swiping mud from her cheeks. “Paulina, what happened?”

“I don’t know!” She began, but didn’t finish. Her breath hitched painfully in her throat, escaping as an airy little whimper. Star turned around.

Paulina’s kidnapper was shrunken and blue-skinned, so miserably corpse-like that Phantom’s gaunt angles and radioactive pallor seemed positively robust by comparison. It hung belly-up and motionless in the air, disoriented for only a moment before its face twisted in rage. Righting itself, it lurched towards them, webbed hands thrust forward and groping.

Star shrieked and wrapped her arms around Paulina, striving in vain to shield the taller girl with her body. The moment hung suspended. Every shuddering breath carried weight like rolling thunder, a backdrop to the rapid drumbeat of her heart in her throat, hummingbird-fast like it yearned to escape her entirely. She didn’t want to die.

Then the moment collapsed. Claws swiped close enough that she could feel the disturbed air against her face, but it didn’t get the chance to try again—Phantom lunged in from the side and shoved the monster away.

The ghosts tumbled through the air in a snarling tangle of limbs before breaking apart to face one another. They howled and chattered in that uncanny language of the dead, teeth bared and aurae strobing against the night. 

Phantom’s thunderous aura of dielectric puncture and possessive indignation crashed against a visceral impression of rushing water, yawning depths too far down to see the sun. A roiling wave of alien emptiness nearly bowled Star over, making her heart pound and temples throb with pressure. She knew enough to realize the feeling wasn’t her own, but couldn't tell which ghost it had come from.

“I’m scared,” Paulina gasped, and Star remembered herself.

“We’re okay,” Star assured and kissed her sweaty forehead. Together they stumbled into the sparse cover of the trees, where she rushed to check for injuries. The sky above rumbled with thunder, and some first tentative drops of rain began to patter through the leaves. “Listen, Paulie, we’ve gotta go. They won’t stay distracted forever. Are you hurt?”

“Ah, a little,” said Paulina, voice trembling. “My ankle—I think I twisted it. But I’m—I’m okay, I think.” Her breath hitched and she slumped further. “I don’t know.”

Star looked down and her blood ran cold. Paulina’s left ankle had started to swell, definitely sprained if not broken. Already knowing the answer, she asked, “How far can you walk?”

“I’m sorry—I don’t know.” Her lip wobbled and a sob escaped her. “A little, maybe. Not far.”

Star just nodded mutely. There was no way she could carry Paulina all the way back to town by herself—but if she gauged where the fight was going, or even made a good guess, they could hobble the other way. Bit by bit would be better than nothing. That would be enough, she decided. It had to be enough. 

Adrenaline sang in her veins. She scrambled to get her shoulder properly under Paulina’s arm and hauled her to her feet, wincing at her stifled cries.

Even without the complication of injury, getting out of there was easier said than done. Like watching a car crash, she struggled to pull her gaze away from the fight. Just as much as a physical brawl, it was also a deafening psychic screaming match—one so horribly overwhelming that Star found herself almost mesmerized.

Daytime ghost battles were convincingly civil, all closed-fist martial arts and comic book one-liners. One could be forgiven for feeling protected when the town mascot was cracking puns. 

Under the cover of night, though? The rain was coming down harder now, and it was already near-impossible to tell just what the ghosts were doing through the thickening fog. Star still knew where they were, though—it felt like she could track them by ill intent alone. It really was like a horror movie.

The newcomer radiated a deeply wounded, covetous sort of hate that made Star suspect it was only recently dead and very, very mad about it. Phantom’s familiar protectiveness, on the other hand, was all tangled up with a frankly concerning sense of raw appetite so uncharacteristically virulent she nearly forgot that he was the one helping her. 

If she'd arrived from the outside, not knowing who was who, Star honestly wouldn’t have been able to say which ghost was “good.” 

Maybe it was the urgency of an injured human so nearby or an unknown enemy more so than the dark, but they fought like feral cats, all teeth and claws. It was expected of the rampaging newcomer, but Phantom was just as bad, and that shocked her more than she liked to admit. Star hadn’t even realized that Phantom had claws until he was lunging to swipe them at the other ghost’s belly, blue mist billowing from his unhinged jaw.

Lightning illuminated the fight in flashes. The kidnapper swung with clumsy, open-handed strikes, but there was wrathful power in its arms, each as thick around as Phantom’s waifish body. An unfamiliar voice howled over the thunder, bubbling and shrill like a drowning scream. Phantom trilled and darted out of reach, visibly flagging even at a distance.

It only took one bad dodge for the fight to turn around. He buckled after only a handful of hits, then writhed when the kidnapper tore at his hair with one hand—it wrapped the other around his neck. 

Star’s fear that he’d be strangled to death was assuaged only when the kidnapper wound up and threw him. Thunder boomed overhead. Paulina screamed in her ear when he slammed into the clearing where the girls had been only a minute before.

Ghosts didn’t need to breathe, but Phantom heaved. Greenish froth gathered at the downturned corners of his mouth. Looking rabid, he arched and spat ectoplasm, coughing wetly as he peeled himself out of a shallow crater in the mud. Battle-frenzy was obvious in his eyes.

Afraid that she’d somehow set him off if she so much as twitched, Star just froze. He was protecting them, he wouldn’t hurt him, he was helping—but Star couldn’t move. Paulina shook her shoulder, begging her to snap out of it, but Phantom had already seen them from across the clearing.

“Hey, what are you still doing here?!” He feigned a lunge and snapped his green-stained teeth for emphasis. “Get going!”

Any further reprimand was cut off when the other ghost appeared behind him. It grabbed Phantom by the ankle and yanked him back, dragging him on his belly through the mud and the leaves. He slid limply along, still staring her down with open desperation.

“Star!” Paulina cried. “You heard him!”

Her body finally began to move, but Star couldn’t stop Staring. Just when she was starting to worry he wouldn’t fight back, Phantom lurched up and twisted to throw an absolutely vicious punch. The blow snapped his enemy’s head sideways with a sickening crack. Glow guttering, it dropped like a stone, but Phantom wasn’t done. He dove after it.

That retaliatory aggression chased the interloper away from the hillside far better than anything else he’d done so far, and Star knew there would be no better window of opportunity.

“Sorry,” she gasped, and surged forward, carrying as much of Paulina’s weight as she could bear. 

Star was no slouch, and she had walked the woods before, but this was far beyond hiking trails. Between the mud sucking at their shoes and dead leaves made slippery by the rain, even the flatter sections proved to be nightmarish. The pair of them groped and stumbled through the dark, tripping on roots and sinking into the wet soil. Once their adrenaline-fueled scramble had finally taken them as far as it could, they collapsed together in a heap. 

After a moment to catch breath they crawled to take some meager shelter from the weather. Curled up and shivering beneath a looming black tree trunk, they held each other for a while. 

���Think you can try walking again?” Star eventually asked over the drone of the rain. A flash of greenish light flickered through the trees.

Paulina grimaced. “I don’t think so. It’s too slippery. Besides, where would we go? Do you know the way back to town?”

She shook her head. “Not even if it was light out.” A pause. Thunder crashed overhead. “We could use GPS. Do you have your phone with you? Mine died.”

“No, sorry. I think I dropped it in the parking lot or somewhere.”

“That’s okay. Probably no service now anyway,” Star said. She swallowed hard. “I think… We might just need to wait until somebody comes looking for us.”

“Don’t worry, cariña. The ghost boy will save us,” Paulina assured, despite everything. “I know he will.”

How can you possibly be so confident in that? Star didn’t ask. “I really hope so,” she said instead, hoping her voice seemed to tremble more from the cold than from her nerves. Clearly unfooled, Paulina leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

Of the two of them, only Paulina had a jacket, so they each took a sleeve and pressed together beneath it to try and keep dry. Mumbling apologies and comforts alike, Star just rubbed Paulina’s arm in hopes of warming her up. Paulina ran her trembling fingers through Star’s wet hair, flinching into her whenever a distant shriek reminded them of the vicious fight still raging dangerously nearby.

Then it went silent.

Long minutes passed, measured only by the distant roll of thunder. The trees groaned in the wind, and the time grew impossible to tell once the moon slipped behind the clouds. It was still pouring when Phantom eventually came to find them. 

Diffused by the fog, the glow of his eyes bobbed unsteadily through the trees. Then came a weaker smear of diluted green from his dripping nose. Pale hair stood out next from the dark as he approached, surprisingly long over his face with its usual volume plastered down by the rainwater. Only about ten feet away did his silhouette finally resolve, revealing his whole front side caked with mud and leaves from being dragged across the ground. With his aura so dim he looked almost like a teen their age, miserable and shivering.

“Phantom!” Paulina cried. She yanked on Star’s arm as if to say I told you so. “There you are! Did you win?”

Nevermind his busted nose, he was limping badly enough to crack twigs on the way over. Nothing had dripped below his knee yet, but luminous ectoplasm beaded along a line on his trembling thigh, on the same side as Paulina’s sprained ankle.

“Yeah,” he croaked, wiping green blood from his lips with the back of his glove. “You okay?”

“We’re good now that you’re here,” exclaimed Paulina. It was made considerably less convincing by how heavily she leaned on Star as they stood up, and Phantom frowned down at her bad leg.

 “Her ankle is messed up,” Star supplied. “I think maybe sprained.”

Phantom scowled. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. If I’d been faster you wouldn’t’ve gotten hurt like that… None of this would’ve happened.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Paulina assured. “Trust me, ghost boy, I’ve gotten worse from cheerleading. It’ll heal. But I’ve got to know, do you know why that thing went after us? Why it took me?”

“Honestly?” Clearly searching for words, Phantom stalled. When he hummed to fill the silence his voice came as an otherworldly buzz that made Star’s neck prickle. “Well… We, uh—I wasn’t really in a great place to ask, but I’m pretty sure you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So the good news is you weren't targeted, I don’t think.” He hesitated, voice tapering to a vaguely electronic crackle as he trailed off. “So yeah.”

“The bad news?” Star prompted.

“Just that we can’t know for sure, I guess? So I’d keep my eyes peeled if I were you, and maybe think about getting your hands on a lipstick laser or a specter-deflector or something. Just in case.”

Paulina frowned at that. “But we’ll be okay, right?”

“Only after you get that looked at,” said Phantom, jerking his chin to her raised leg.

With that he took a hesitant step closer, reaching for each of them with blunt-fingered hands. Clearly unused to such familiar touch, his cheeks flushed deeply green when Paulina collapsed readily against his arm.

But, more importantly, Star eyed his injuries warily. She couldn’t tell if the sluggishly-bleeding cut was deep, but it looked long and ragged enough that he’d probably need stitches. With that in mind, it seemed prudent to point out that, “You’re pretty hurt yourself. Can you carry us both safely?”

Immediately sobering, Phantom straightened up and nodded. “I’m… fine,” he replied, a lie so obvious that even he cringed. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, some kind of nervous tic, and amended, “Fine enough. Not gonna drop you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Of course not,” said Paulina. “Let’s get out of here.”

He frowned, but reoffered his unoccupied arm. Star hesitated—only for a fraction of a moment, but it was more than enough. The ghost stared at her half-raised hand like she’d just slapped him, cloudy green eyes twitching in their sockets as he scrutinized her. Star averted her gaze.

“Oh,” he eventually said, a little dumbly. “I scared you too, didn’t I?” He shook his head and muttered, “What am I saying? That’s stupid. I know I did.”

“Yeah,” admitted Star. Phantom withdrew his arm. “You did.”

“The other ghost was way scarier,” Paulina declared with finality, elbow pressed pointedly into Star’s ribs. 

Star took the cue to offer her arm instead. Phantom blinked slowly, head cocked and mouth parted with apparent disbelief. After a moment he reached out and Star held her ground, letting him close his frigid fingers gently around her wrist. The fine blonde hairs on her forearm stood on end and her skin immediately tingled with icy pins and needles. 

Phantom just shook his head, shrugged helplessly, and finally kicked off the ground. His legs dissolved into a misty tail as they took to the air, rippling behind them like a long black ribbon.

Paulina let out a squeal of delight as the ground retreated from beneath them. Despite everything it was no doubt a dream come true, and the smile she sent over Phantom's shoulder was equal parts relieved, giddy, and reassuring. Star couldn't tell if it was because of the extra passenger or the fact that he no longer had an urgent pursuit to motivate him, but he flew considerably slower on the return journey than he had when they’d left.

Eventually, they slowed and banked down into the parking lot behind Amity Park General. 

It had grown late enough that only a handful of cars dotted the near-empty lot, their shells shiny in the rain like so many sleeping beetles clustered together on the wet pavement. Most of them occupied employee spaces, so there’d be plenty of people there to take care of them in the clinic even though the day staff were out, but the hospital was still eerie and liminal in the quiet of the night.

Phantom lowered the girls delicately to the ground maybe fifty feet from the leeringly red URGENT CARE signage that marked the entrance to the hospital. Immediately boneless on touching solid pavement, Star swayed a little before regaining her bearings, and winced in sympathy when Paulina hopped awkwardly to avoid putting weight on her bad ankle.

The ghost held himself strangely, palms to the ground while his tail curled close to his body. “Odds are nothing will happen,” he said in lieu of goodbye, “but if you feel like something’s even a little bit weird, you should go see the Fentons right aw—”

Paulina bristled, leg twitching like she wanted to stomp but thought better of it. “Seriously? But they hate you!”

Just like that, his expression of big-eyed wariness closed off into something far colder. “…Danny doesn't.”

“No, he’s just terrified of you,” she scoffed. “Like that’s so much better.”

Phantom’s dim glow flickered, eyes blazing with radioactive threat. He frowned, gaze drifting to land on Star. His greenish tongue flickered out between his teeth and she knew immediately that he was doing that thing again, scenting for blood—or sensing her fear. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, voice brittle. “You shouldn't have had to see me like that. I know better—I’m supposed to be better, but I—I got so worked up that I totally forgot about making you guys feel safe.”

“You helped us,” Star argued without much conviction. “It’s fine.”

He worked his jaw and his wet hair rippled as though gravity had faltered around him, but held his tongue. “I guess. It doesn’t matter. Just go to Danny. He’ll help you, alright?” 

Neither Paulina nor Star got their chance to argue—with a final nod he retreated backwards into the treeline and flickered out of view. The background hum of his aura faded more slowly, but once it was gone the air immediately grew less bitterly cold, the rain less harsh, and Star felt a pressure lift from her lungs that she hadn’t even realized was there.

Exhaustion washed over her without warning, and she nearly buckled beneath even Paulina’s sparing weight. By that point the last of the adrenaline had bled out of her, leaving her feeling hollow and spent. Absently, she supposed she must finally be crashing. It was about time.

“I’m okay,” promised Star even as her knees knocked together. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

Paulina nodded. “The ER’s right there. I can walk to the door just fine,” she said with a grimace. “Don’t worry about me.”

Star knew better than to push it. She allowed herself to be comforted by her girlfriend's gentle hand on her shoulder, each leaning into the other for support as they shuffled under the awning and into the clinic. Their wet shoes squeaked loudly against the linoleum floor, water dripping off the ends of Star's hair while Paulina's flats left muddy smears behind them where she dragged her bad foot.

Paulina slumped onto the first available seat she spotted as soon as they passed through the automatic doors, wincing as she sat down with a groan. While her girlfriend melted wearily into the cheap plastic waiting room chair, Star approached the reception desk.

"Hi," she said dazedly. Her voice sounded strange to her without the drone of the rain as a backdrop, weak and scratchy as if she'd been gargling glass. 

What was she supposed to do? Her mental image of emergency rooms almost always involved wailing sirens and nurses swarming around people on gurneys about to die, not two beat-up kids just… walking in all by themselves. 

Thankfully the man behind the desk seemed more than willing to pick up the slack. He hesitated for hardly a beat before his lined face softened just enough that Star felt marginally more comfortable. 

“Hi there, sweetie. I’ll need some information from you, alright? Can I have your name?”

“Oh, it’s not for me. I’m tired and kinda scraped up, but I’ll be okay. She—” Star paused to turn around and point back towards Paulina. “She’s the one who needs a doctor.”

He raised a brow and typed something into his computer. “Alright, we’ll need her information. Can she come up to the front?”

Could she? Probably, but Star wasn’t going to make her. To that end, Star ferried all the questions, answers, and documents between her and the desk so Paulina wouldn’t have to walk too much on her bad leg. The receptionist went on to request her ID, then asked for her mailing address, insurance, and the name of her primary care doctor. Her ID and insurance card were still in her bag at the mall, so she could only shrug and offer Mr. Sanchez’s phone number instead, which was thankfully accepted at least as a stopgap. 

Only after all that did the man finally ask, “And could you please confirm the reason for your urgent care visit?”

“Sprained ankle. We want to make sure it’s not broken.”

Once everything was done, the man behind the counter offered Star a half-hearted smile. “Alright, then just sit tight for a minute and we’ll have someone to look at you soon.”

With that Star shuffled to collapse into the seat beside Paulina, who sighed and leaned over so their shoulders could touch. Within moments Star’s eyelids began to grow heavy, head lolling against Paulina’s, but her nerves were shot far too badly for sleep.

Her thoughts were magnetized to the memory of Phantom’s face when he realized how he’d scared her. Wide-eyed and wounded, he’d looked—well, he’d looked something close to devastated. It left a sour taste in her mouth. Even before they’d started dating, she and Paulina used to fight about him, whether he was good or bad.

Even if ectoscience as a field was rife with bias, Star had decided that the Fentons were sometimes right about some things. Namely, that ecto-entities were unpredictable, and Phantom was no exception. As far as ghosts went he had immense restraint, and she didn’t think he would hurt her on purpose—but that was a very low bar. 

To Star it was just common sense, the same kind of healthy, respectful fear one harbored for tornadoes and riptides. Coyotes ate people’s cats because they were hungry, not because they were evil—but they still did it, and they’d keep doing it. Thinking of the Phantom as a force of nature disqualified acts of malice, which made her position moderate. It made sense. Didn’t it?

Someone said something, but Star wasn’t listening. She did, however, jump alert when Paulina squeezed her hand. “They called my name,” she explained softly. “You wanna come with?”

The nurse was a middle-aged woman with frizzy red curls spilling from beneath a pink bandana, deep lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. They stood together to greet her, but the nurse bustled over to stop them. 

“None of that,” she scolded without heat as the girls sat back down. This close, Star could read her lanyard and put a name to the face—Monica Moreno, N.P. “Someone should’ve given you a chair. You wait right there, alright?” 

With that she turned on her heel and jogged to the other side of the entrance. The nurse pulled a squat gray wheelchair away from the line of identical chairs against the far wall and pushed it over to the girls. She bent over and put her arm under Paulina’s, lifting her gingerly to her feet.

“Lean on me as much as you need, and—” Paulina faltered, but Star grabbed her by the elbow before she could lose balance and helped her slide into the chair. “Perfect, thank you, sweetie.”

Star nodded. “Can I come with her?”

The nurse looked to Paulina, who nodded eagerly, and said “Of course.”

Once inside the room Star helped the nurse haul Paulina up onto the examination table, then pulled a chair away from the wall to take a seat of her own. The nurse asked some idle questions about how Paulie was feeling as she pressed and tapped at Paulina’s bruised ankle.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” A nod. “Can you lift your foot? Good. I know it hurts and the swelling looks nasty, but your range of motion isn’t too bad.”

“Is it broken?” asked Paulina.

“I don’t think so.” Seeming satisfied with her examination, Nurse Moreno stood and picked up a clipboard from the counter at the back of the room. “How did it happen?”

“Oh, you know,” said Paulina. “It happened when I was running away. Ghost attack.”

“That sounds like a pretty scary experience,” Nurse Moreno offered, brows creased with vague pity. Ears burning, Star just shrugged.

“Seriously,” Paulina agreed. “But it was alright! The ghost boy swooped in so we could get away. He was amazing.”

The nurse nodded solemnly, as though that wasn’t really an answer she needed to hear. “Phantom, you mean?” Her warm expression darkened minutely, lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. “Ghosts are dangerous, you know, even that one. You kids really shouldn’t be getting too friendly with it.”

“Him,” Star blurted before Paulina could make the same correction. “Phantom’s… a him.”

She wasn’t immediately sure of why she’d bothered. Star had hardly been picky about that sort of thing before. She hadn’t cared either way, referring to him in accordance with her present company—with her peers Phantom was a “he” or sometimes even a “they,” while with adults he was more often an “it.” Somehow, though, it crossed a line this time. Maybe the other ghost was an “it”, but not Phantom. Not anymore.

Each time his mood soured even the barest bit a part of her had felt like she was staring down a loaded gun, but he’d—there was nobody around to perform for, but he’d had moods. It wasn’t manipulation, and neither was it just instinct or compulsion or whatever else drove dangerous animals to do what they did.

Like a person—like a kid—he’d reacted with flippance first, then concern, as though the risk to Paulie’s safety had genuinely shaken him. When the fight turned, his grim determination gave way to naked desperation, like he was terrified for their lives if not his own. That wasn’t monstrous. It was human enough. He’d shrugged off life-ruining injuries like they were paper cuts, unaffected by the pain, but there was such hurt in his eyes at the thought of being feared. 

Maybe for the first time, Star couldn’t help but see him.

Looking up, she noticed that Paulina and Nurse Moreno were both staring at her, faces pinched with obvious concern. “Are you alright, sweetie? Does it hurt anywhere?”

Star blinked, found herself crying, and was immediately mortified. Not even at the height of her freshman year crush had Paulina ever been so sensitive. To her watchers, she realized, she’d burst into tears just because a random stranger had offhandedly misgendered a posthuman wild animal.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. Her eyes prickled and her cheeks felt on fire, mixed embarrassment and exhaustion curdling whatever relief had eased her in the waiting room. Star wiped furiously at her eyes and swallowed hard, feeling utterly ashamed. “I think it’s just—it’s catching up to me now.”

“Oh, Star,” Paulina crooned.

That wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it felt woefully incomplete even as she said it, like she was missing the vocabulary to explain herself. Her whole body felt tender and fragile, like a raw nerve, and she desperately wanted—needed—a hug.

Nurse Moreno stepped away from the examination table to kneel in front of Star and rest a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re alright, honey.”

Her voice was warm with genuine care, but Star didn't feel all too comforted. A sour taste lingered at the back of her throat.

“You were super brave,” assured Paulina from the table. “Really.”

"Thanks," she managed, still feeling vaguely queasy. "I'll be okay. I just—Phantom—”

The nurse narrowed her eyes. “It—he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No!” Star shouted, then amended more softly, “Sorry, no. He was good. He helped us. I just—he was scared, too and—” She shook her head. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. I just need to sleep, I think.”

“Are you absolutely sure, honey?”

Star nodded as vigorously as she could manage. “Yes, I promise. I’m just tired.”

“If you say so…” Nurse Moreno replied, clearly unconvinced but probably not paid enough to push the issue. If she wanted to argue, she didn’t show it. Instead she just stood up and turned away. Now facing Paulina, she pulled a sheet of paper from her clipboard and passed it over.

“Well, this looks like a second degree sprain to me,” she said.

“I think I got a first grade one once,” mused Paulina as she skimmed the paper. “When I was cheerleading. This is worse than that?”

The nurse nodded. “A little. I don’t think you need an X-ray or a boot tonight, but you should follow those instructions and follow up with your primary care as soon as possible…”

Star tuned the rest of it out, feeling boneless and drained, wrung-out like a dish towel. Even though she wasn’t officially admitted, Nurse Moreno pitied her enough that she offered to help clean up her cuts before she left, but Star insisted she’d rather do it at home. Paulina was helped back into the wheelchair and the nurse pushed her out into the lobby, where the receptionist lent her the phone so she could call her dad.

Mr. Sanchez answered before the first ring had even finished. He immediately got to shouting in frantic Spanish, loudly enough for Star to hear him and even recognize a few words through the bad landline speaker. Once Paulina managed to soothe him she stumbled through a hasty outline of the situation and copious assurances that they wouldn’t keel over before he arrived.

He promised to be over in ten minutes and made it there in eight. He’d obviously been worrying himself sick, hair and clothes rumpled and eyes faintly red. 

Star fidgeted beneath his searching gaze, only looking up to mumble an exhausted, “Thanks, Mr. Sanchez.”

In response he just nodded, clearly spent, but gave her a gentle clap on the shoulder as she climbed into the back of his car. Paulina took the passenger side and Mr. Sanchez folded the front seat down so she could stretch out her leg, muttering as he folded his jacket and fiddled with its placement as a cushion under Paulina’s ankle.

“How does that feel, sweetie? ¿Te sientes cómoda? Ah, let me—”

“I’m fine, Papá,” Paulina groaned. “I swear. I just wanna go home.”

At Paulina’s request he drove them back to the mall to retrieve their things, which were mercifully still laid out exactly where they’d dropped them. She retraced her steps to scoop up Paulina’s dropped purse and her own half-zipped backpack.

As she bent to retrieve her wallet, a sense of sickening deja vu washed over Star. Her skin prickled with cold, gelid needles tracing the raw edges of her scrapes. Limbs heavy with the instinctual impulse to freeze, she slowly turned back around. 

Only once her back was to the road did she hear it, an anguished whimper, a groan—a creak like splintering wood. Static. It seemed to come from right behind her, but when she whipped around there was no one else there.

She jumped up and glanced to where Mr. Sanchez was wheeling Paulina’s bike up to where he’d parked, heedless of the blanketing dread that thickened the air. That, it seemed, was something meant just for Star. 

By now she’d found an inkling of recognition—it was that empty feeling again, that terrible, sourceless hollowness. He hadn’t noticed. Heart quickening, she cast her gaze up and down the adjacent street, searching for a flicker of radioactive green or glowing red eyes. There was nothing.

Star ignored her aching body and unsettled mind to scurry back to Mr. Sanchez. Despite his gentle assertions that he’d take care of it, she helped load their bikes into the trunk. The sooner they were out of there, the better.

"Is that everything?"

She nodded and pawed idly through the pile of stuff in her lap. The metal clasp on Paulina’s purse was freezing when she rolled it between her fingers. "I think so."

With that Mr. Sanchez pulled across the row of unoccupied spaces so they could turn around. The blast of the heating system didn't quite dispel the chill in her throat, but it helped her relax at least a little bit.

Part of her ached at the thought, but she hoped, cruelly, that it was Phantom. Guilt and fear knotted her stomach in turns. She hoped that seething appetite was a permanent fixture she’d just never been close enough to notice, something he just let slip during the fighting. Even now that she was sure he could feel, that he would suffer for it, she hoped he was empty and miserable and lonely and hungry—because if he wasn’t, something else was.

“Oh,” she hurried to say as they peeled out of the lot, “is it alright if I stay at your house tonight, Mr. Sanchez? I’d just rather not be by myself, if that’s okay. My parents are out of town till Monday…” 

And as far as they were concerned, she was staying over with Paulina anyway. She swallowed and glanced over at her girlfriend, who was nodding off with her head against the window, then back up to the rearview mirror so she could see Mr. Sanchez’s face. 

His mustache drifted up in a fond half-smile, harsh lines loosening around his eyes. “Of course, estrellita. You're always welcome.”

Star had honestly expected a little more scolding from Mr. Sanchez, but then again it wasn’t like they could control who or when or where the ghosts attacked people. He was clearly careworn and she expected there might be a lecture and maybe even a harsher curfew in Paulina’s future, but not punishment.

The drive back wasn’t long, but even that small distance was a relief when it was taking them away from the mall. Star took a cue from Paulina and pressed her cheek against the window, eyes dragging on the unshattered street lights as they slid by. 

She wondered what had happened to the other ghost. Trapped in Phantom’s thermos, most likely—which led to the question of what he was doing. If he was alright. Had he come down from the same adrenaline Paulina was sleeping off? There was the broken nose and the gash on his thigh, and goodness-knows how many broken bones Star couldn’t have seen. 

For his sake she hoped the Fentons were right about ghosts not feeling pain.

Eventually they pulled into the driveway of the Sanchez house and up into the garage. Paulina’s dad circled the car and opened the passenger side to wake her up and carry her into the house. He batted away Star’s attempts to help, insisting she make herself at home instead—a sentiment Paulina echoed vigorously despite being barely awake. 

She hauled herself upstairs and invited herself into the shower, borrowing one of Paulie’s towels and a set of her spare clothes. The sting of body wash in her cuts helped to wake Star up, but only a little, and she found herself resisting the pull of sleep almost as soon as she’d stepped out of the tub. She toweled herself off and wrung out her hair without bothering to blow it dry, eager to collapse facedown on Paulina’s soft queen mattress.

As she was exiting the bathroom Mr. Sanchez met her in the hall with a sleepy Paulina in his arms. Star rushed to open the bedroom door and dig up another set of pajamas for her girlfriend. The pair of them fretted over Paulina for probably longer than was strictly necessary, piling up pillows to elevate her leg. They set her up with water, ibuprofen, and a lunch box ice pack to lay over her ankle. 

After much bickering, promises in the double-digits, and a similarly long string of combative “I love yous,” Mr. Sanchez finally relented to his own exhaustion and set off to bed. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him Star climbed into the bed next to Paulina and let herself melt.

“Come here,” said Paulina, patting the sheets next to her. Star scooted up and curled beneath her arm, eyes already stinging with unshed tears. “It’s okay, it’s over.”

Paulina had spent her emotions crying in the woods, but now it was Star’s turn to finish what she’d started at the clinic. She didn’t have the words to explain these feelings—it wasn’t grief, exactly, but an overwhelming pathos nonetheless, and it crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Paulina stroked her hair and murmured sleepy condolences, combing through and untangling the damp strands with her fingers. Her wet hands felt almost shockingly cold whenever they brushed against the flushed shell of Star’s ear, her cheeks red from crying.

Phantom’s touch was corpse-like because that’s what he was. He had touched her, had held her hand and rubbed her shoulders and coughed his stale breath into the air and been dead for all of it, and that had made sense. He was a ghost, but something had been missing—something she’d done her best to ignore.

It was so easy to forget that, for ghosts to be dead, they had to have once been alive.

And Star hadn’t mourned him. Nobody had.

A whimper escaped her and Paulina crooned. “Hey, cariña. You wanna talk about it?”

“Now now, Paulie,” mumbled Star. She swallowed and added, “Sorry, I’m just tired. Maybe later.”

Paulina thumbed a tear from her cheek and kissed her temple. “It was so scary,” she said instead of pressing. “You were amazing.” Another kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Star sighed, and let restless sleep take her.

Later never came.

[paenling]

paenling's phic directory :)

DARK/ANGST:

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Psychosomatic — Danny gets a paper cut. It isn't just a paper cut. Warnings: ghost hunger, vomiting, body horror, sensory overload, panic attacks. Pairing: none. Words: 3,358. Complete (1/1). Part 1 of Vice AU.

Momma's Boy — The Wisconsin Ghost kidnaps Madeline Fenton. Plasmius saps Phantom's last reserves of energy. Danny Fenton tears Vlad Masters apart. These are not coincidences. Identity reveal. Warnings: ghost hunger/cannibalism, graphic violence body horror, dissociation, self-harm, PTSD. Pairing: none. Words: 63,207. Complete (10/10). Part 2 of Vice AU.

The Miracle Year — “I feel like shit,” he finally says. It lacks the slapdash eloquence of a proper existential crisis, but Danny decides he’s kind of over that. Post-reveal. Warnings: ghost hunger/cannibalism, body horror, disordered eating, PTSD. Pairing: none. Words: 7,095. Incomplete (1/?). Part 3 of Vice AU.

the art of backmasking — For the first time, Valerie and Danny are totally honest with each other. Identity reveal. Warnings: none. Pairing: Danny/Valerie. Words: 7,467. Complete (2/2).

Deucalion — A month after the funeral, they saw Danny again. Frankenstein-inspired corpse/full ghost AU. Warnings: child death, grief/mourning, dehumanization, child abuse/neglect, corpse desecration, non-consensual body modification/drug use, homophobia. Pairing: none. Words: 5,631. Incomplete (1/5).

a fort of lovers' teeth — Ghosts wanted attention from the living, but Paulie had vanished without a sound. Something was wrong. Pain Train AU, inhuman ghosts, eldritch/cryptid Danny. Warnings: graphic violence, dehumanization. Pairing: Paulina/Star. Words: 9,114. Complete (1/1).

FUN/FLUFF:

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Things To Do Instead of Rest — Maddie felt like she could understand him again. (Learning to love your weird dead son.) Warnings: None. Pairing: none. Words: 2,198. Complete (1/1).

softest sleep — When Danny has bad dreams, he goes to Tucker. Warnings: none. Pairing: Danny/Tucker. Words: 538. Complete (1/1).

Skating On — Nobody told Valerie about the winter truce. (Gift for SummersSixEcho for the 2022 Phandom Holiday Truce!) Warnings: none. Pairing: Danny/Valerie. Words 9,315. Complete (1/1).

OTHER:

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Space Case — Not quite consumed but too sick to stay human, Danny only escaped death by choosing exile instead. Warframe crossover feat. Infested!Danny. Warnings: body horror. Pairing: none. Words: 2,027. Incomplete (1/?).

Raising Hell — A seemingly-routine errand for Clockwork puts Danny in over his head when he finds an alternate Amity Park plagued by demons instead of ghosts. Warnings: implied/referenced mind control. Pairing: Danny/Tucker (background). Words: 12,228. Incomplete (2/?).

Last updated: 2/8/23

[phandomholidaytruce]

Announcement

Hello everyone!

This is usually around the time I start getting questions if I will be holding the truce this year!

And the answer is yes!

And also there are going to be some major changes this year to make things a little easier for everyone! (Including hopefully me lol)

Please keep tuned, I will have more info most likely in October!

Thank you!

[ionanana]

Here are the Remaining pages

Hey @willakk I was your giftee for this year holiday truce. Late I am sorry for that but at least its on Friday the 13th lol.

Prompt: Something that is so hilariously funny where Danny and the gang just act like their obnoxious / “knows something that no one else knows” self and then proceed to confuse everyone etc.

I even added a bit of greyghost interaction from another prompt.

How you like it enjoy! (I will have to add the last few pages in a reblogged post)