#me writing this was giving 'overdue creative writing assignment' vibes

[qoinq-qhost]

memories - dannymay day 1

“Phantom, hey, I need you to answer me.” Maddie shined the small flashlight across his face again.

“What do you remember?”

The ghost’s face twisted in confusion as he tried to sit upright, attempting to prop himself up in the rubble. He turned to look at her but his eyes seemed unfocused, lids barely open.

“Hm. Mom? Wha-” He trailed off, looking past Maddie towards the debris behind her.

“Just as I thought. Concussed.” She muttered. She was choosing to overlook the fact that the ghost had called her “Mom” again. Initially, it had bothered her, enraged her even, when she had a lesser opinion of the specter. Now though, with their shaky, but so far long-lasting, truce, she and Jack had begun to see the ghost kid as just that; a ghost kid. She took note of his round face and too-long limbs. He couldn't be over sixteen. The thought of someone that young dying in a way that created ghost as powerful as Phantom shook Maddie to her core. She knew Jack felt it too. And so if Phantom called either of them “Mom” or “Dad,” the couple silently agreed to ignore the ghost’s slip up.

“Wait, where am I?” Phantom looked up at her, eyes unfocused, but still the distinct toxic and inhuman green that matched the trail of ectoplasm leaking from a gash near his hairline.

Maddie sighed softly before crouching down next to him and answering. “You’re downtown. Amity Park. There was a ghost fight.”

With this, his eyebrows drew closer together. “Ghost fight?” He seemed to realize he was injured then, as he brought a gloved hand up to his head. His hazy eyes widened in fear.

“Wha- green? What happened to me?” Panic coated his voice.

Could he have really hit his head that hard? Maddie wondered.

Phantom seemed to be in a crisis. He sat up fully on the side of the road, now staring down at his own body. He held his own gloved hands in front of his face, turning them over and even taking off one of the gloves to inspect the skin underneath. Maddie was surprised to see the gloves could actually come off. By looking down, he caught a glimpse of his own white bangs, and this, too, seemed to shock him. He grasped at his own hair and tugged a strand forward so that it was in front of his eyes.

Watching him made Maddie realize something: She really did not want to be the one to tell Phantom he died. Who knew how he would react to the news? In this state, with their weeks of cooperation seemingly forgotten from his mind, it was entirely possible that the ghost would become violent.

And yet, assessing him now, he looked like he’d sooner burst into tears.

“Please, Mom, what happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?”

“Well, I’m not your mom. I’m Dr. Fenton, and you’re Phantom. You hit your head pretty hard during this fight. I was afraid you wouldn't wake up for a second there” Maddie tried to chuckle but it sounded hollow.

She knew how strange it was for her of all people to be concerned about Phantom’s wellbeing. But ever since she started working with him, she began to notice small details about the specter that set him apart from others she’d seen up close. She watched as his chest continually rose and fell, how his eyes reacted to bright light, and once, she even saw him sneeze. These minute details made her wonder exactly where the line between mimicry and sincerity was. She had hoped her cooperation with him would lead the ghost to trust her enough to let her ask.

Though currently, Phantom was in no state to answer any of her questions. He looked worse than she’d ever seen him; utterly crushed by the news of his own death. She wondered what memories he did retain, and how long this apparent amnesia would last.

Maddie hoisted herself back onto her feet and held out a hand to Phantom. He took it but struggled to stand, resulting in Maddie almost carrying the boy back to the GAV. He had the sense to ask, “Where are you taking me?”

“Back to FentonWorks. I’ll try to get you patched up best I can, but it will probably be better for you to heal back in the Zone.”

“The Zone?”

“The Ghost Zone, yes, it’s where you live.” She informed him.

Phantom’s face showed his confusion again, but he did not say anything more. Maddie figured being back in the Zone with its abundance of ectoplasm would accelerate the ghost’s healing.

“I don't live with you?” He asked.

“No, Phantom, you don't,” Maddie chuckled at the thought. She imagined the ghost sitting down at the kitchen table for dinner with her family. She pictured him sitting on her couch watching TV with her kids. Ha, what a sight that’d be.

Maddie didn't realize Phantom’s change in mood until she saw his face as she helped him get buckled in the passenger seat of the GAV. She was surprised to see him blinking back tears.

“I don't understand. What happened? Why can't I stay with you guys? How did I die?”

Maddie bit down on her lower lip and looked into Phantom’s eyes. He still didn't look like he was all there, with the spacy, unfocused look in his eyes and green staining his face. What was there, though, was genuine hurt, a display of emotion Maddie didn't think possible for ghosts.

“I’m sorry but you can't stay here. You don't belong in this world. I know you have been helping people here, but ghosts are supposed to stay in the Zone.” She sighed and looked down at her hands. She couldn't bring herself to keep looking at him. “And we don’t know how you died. You never told us.”

Phantom didn't say anything more. His far away eyes looked through the windshield of the GAV but he saw nothing as the two rode in silence.