Chapter Text
Leaving Deku’s home left a bittersweet chill in Danny’s ribcage. Being in the house sparked a feeling in him he hadn’t experienced in awhile. It didn’t make him feel ‘alive’ in the way he did when he fought Endeavor, his core and nerves pulsating with each hit. Instead, he felt whole. Human, in the most natural, mundane way. It felt like going home after school and eating dinner with his parents and Jazz, with the promise of seeing Tucker and Sam afterward. He was happy and warm–a stark difference from the numbing cold he typically felt.
For the most part, Deku and his mom had accepted him. They knew what Danny was and still welcomed him into their home. Although they were both a bit intense at times, their kind natures were undeniable. Danny hated leaving, but knew he had to. If he didn’t leave now, he never would.
All of this brought him back to Ma. If Danny had gone with him, would they be eating like that every night? Ma had a husband, too. What was he like? Was he like Ma—gloomy and worn—or the complete opposite? Danny would have enjoyed seeing that, but it just wasn’t to be. Regardless of how much he contorted himself to fit into those old familiar spaces, his efforts had been futile. He was always too much, and too little, all at once. His time to be part of a family had passed upon his death, and he would need to learn to be okay with that.
‘Yeah, I’m okay. Totally okay. This is just how it has to be.' Danny reminded himself of that over and over again as he flew through the night sky, desperate to put distance between himself and Deku. A few agonizing miles later, his resolve crumbled, and he gave in to the temptation to circle back around to his friend’s home. The pull to the familiar was hard to shake. He stood at Deku’s door, invisible, resisting the gnawing urge to knock. The lights were already off and all was quiet within. He stood there for only Clockwork knows how long and waited with his fist raised. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had his own world to get back to, and so did Deku. Danny slipped away once again into the night, silent and unperceived.
As always, the stars were there to comfort him. He belonged up here rather than down there. Like the stars, he was a bright ball of mass and energy trapped inside a vessel much too small. The stars he could see now were already dead and blown apart– their final moments captured for the world to see– until even the memory of their existence would eventually fade into oblivion. He wondered if that's how people saw him, too.
Danny could no longer fit into the world of humans. He was a monster, plain and simple. It didn’t hurt to admit that anymore. He had been so busy drowning in all his emotions— the uncertainty, the self-hate, the rage—that he hadn’t realized he could swim all along. Not only could he stay afloat– he could thrive. He was a fish in the sea of this new world he found himself in.
Danny’s core gave him a gentle, comforting chill in the night sky. He glided along on his back and shut his eyes, allowing himself to be seen. It didn’t matter if he was spotted. He doubted there was a soul alive who could beat him now. He could do whatever he wanted and effortlessly get away with it. It was freeing. He had to wonder, is this what invincibility is like? Deep down, a selfish, perhaps very human part of him enjoyed the thought. After all, who wouldn’t want to be a god among men?
Although seemingly endless possibilities lay before him, he felt some sort of pull to this place. To this world, to this city. He didn’t know why, but he needed to stay here. It wasn’t just the patrol, or some half-brained plan to get home, but something else. Something deeper. ‘Must be a kind of ghost instinct,’ he thought to himself.
From down below, Danny was sure he must’ve looked like a star. He probably had a big head for thinking that, but nonetheless, it was true. Maybe that’s why none of the heroes attacked him yet. They assumed he belonged to the sky, like everything else out of reach. It was peaceful, in its own way. He knew his place, and things didn’t seem as big to him now. Death, and accepting that death, had made his problems melt away. Even if he never had a family of his own again, he could indefinitely float around and protect the people he’s grown to care about in this world. He didn’t have to be human to do that, he just had to be strong. And strong, he most certainly was. Still, it was nice pretending. Danny thinks he’ll do it for a little longer.
At first, he didn’t know why he did it. Why had he poured so much effort into developing relationships with the living, and performing mundane and pointedly human tasks, like working a job? In the grand scheme of things, these seemed like fruitless endeavors that only served to hurt him when it was all over. It was like a hangover after a night of reckless drinking that left you heavy the next morning. However, he now realized it had all been a necessary part of his own grieving process– perhaps not so fruitless afterall.
Danny had decided long ago he was done with his self-pity party. What’s done is done, no more use crying about it. He had stuff he had to do, like preparing for meeting with Deku tomorrow afternoon…as both Tommy and Tucker. Danny did not know how he was going to pull that one off.
Duplication was one of the only things he specifically struggled with. He had only been able to do it twice, and both with outside assistance. All the other attempts looked like medical anomalies, or like some poorly executed special effects makeup from a cheap horror movie. The last time he duplicated himself was during his fight with Pariah Dark. He had The Fenton Ecto-Skeleton suit (tm), which gave him the extra boost he needed to create three duplicates. That didn’t last long since Pariah destroyed them and the suit early into the fight, leaving Danny prime alone. Despite how the fight ended, he found he was proud of that accomplishment. It was at least something, right? He was sure he would be able to do it again–if he kept extra ectoplasm on hand. The duplicate wouldn’t be used for fighting, and would probably just be sitting around, so it wouldn’t take too much energy to maintain…if he could even successfully construct it in the first place.
Danny flew down by the alley where he beat the trio of heroes and Endeavor. The alley was taped off and, from what he could see, there was no one inside. He was, however, able to detect some sensors around the opening. He studied them from afar. They resembled the ones the GIW had used to try to catch him. The sensors weren’t motion activated, but instead detected and alerted to extreme levels of ecto-radium and ecto-radiation. This information surprised him, but also implied that this world must know about ectoplasm. An important discovery, if he was going to be sticking around for a while.
The sensors should have been easy enough to circumvent. When Danny had first gained his powers, he would’ve been able to just walk by in his human form, but that wasn’t an option anymore. He was too far gone. Even in his own world, he had progressively become less human and more ghost, leaving him unable to hide behind a human form in situations like these. Instead, he learned he had to overload the sensors with just the right amount of charge to turn them off. It varied each time, and he was never able to tell how much they needed. It was a dangerous gamble. Plus, that’s what Tucker was for, always there to deal with the tech side of things. However…Tucker wasn’t here anymore. That did complicate the situation.
After a few moments of contemplation, he shrugged to himself. It wasn’t like there was anything he needed to fear anymore. Even if the #1 Hero popped out and walloped him, Danny could win. And after meeting the so called “#1 Hero”, his fear of heroes as a whole had certainly… diminished.
He brazenly flew past the sensors and scooped up all the ectoplasm he could fit into the thermos, while also absorbing some for himself. It took no more than five minutes, but silhouettes of figures in costumes already began craning over the tops of the two buildings above before he could finish. Danny flew upwards before any of them could move, and was able to make his escape. On the way out, he couldn’t help but search around for Ma in the crowd. Of course, he wasn’t there. Ma had been so adamant that he wanted to protect Danny. If Ma showed up now, it would just prove to him that he never cared. Besides, he wasn’t ready to see Ma yet. He still had too many unprocessed feelings to sort through before he was ready.
He knew Ma wanted to help, and maybe he still does, but Danny didn’t need that anymore. He was able to take care of himself. Staying with him– becoming part of a family– would be too self indulgent and reckless. He could pretend he was still human, but he couldn’t go that far.
He did want to apologize, though. Ma may have hurt him, but he didn’t deserve what Danny had done to him in retaliation. He also had a burning curiosity about what Ma’s reasonings were for the things he did. Was he forced to do it, and if so, by who? Did he genuinely befriend Danny without knowing he was Phantom? Or worst of all, was it all an act? Pretend to be a weak old man to get Danny to lower his guard, but send in the big guns when that failed? What a cliche, he scoffed to himself.
Although these unanswered questions were nagging at him, he knew that was just a scarred, vulnerable part of his brain talking. Vlad had similar methods of manipulation. He had masterfully engineered a situation where Danny had to reveal himself as Phantom in front of him, and then inserted himself as a bridge between Danny and the adults in his life. From this point of power and trust, Vlad would talk to his teachers to excuse his spotty attendance, convince his parents that their punishments were too extreme, and even got Sam’s parents to allow her to spend more time with Danny and Tucker.
Outside of that, Vlad would teach Danny how to fight and defend himself from ghosts under the guise of caring for his safety and well-being. All the while, Danny’s archnemesis Plasmius would attack and brutalize him every night.
The scheme finally unraveled when Plasmius kidnapped Vlad, and Danny got to the warehouse earlier than expected. He watched in horror as Vlad melded into the two separate people–his uncle, and his archnemesis. The betrayal had twisted in his gut like a knife. Vlad may be better now, but he planted a deep paranoia into Danny that seemed impossible to uproot. Although he so badly wanted to believe Ma’s good intentions, what if this is just a repeat of the past?
Ma really didn’t seem like Vlad, though. Where Vlad had the cold, calculating gaze of a plotting trickster, Ma’s eyes held only earnestness and warmth, and perhaps deep exhaustion. If anything, he reminded Danny of Mr. Lancer.
Mr. Lancer was a good man, and a good teacher. He taught Danny a lot about human kindness and sarcasm. However, no matter how much Mr. Lancer helped Danny, there was only so much he could do. He was just a normal human, after all. Maybe that’s why Danny let Ma so close. There was something that Ma has that Mr. Lancer never did, and that was power and a sense of otherness. Selfishly, he knew there was a lot more Ma could do for him than Lancer ever could.
Danny suddenly felt ashamed for thinking so much like Vlad, and chided himself for it. People weren’t only worth their perceived use. Forming relationships with others shouldn’t be influenced by how much you can use them before you inevitably discard them. And yet, a small and cynical part of Danny was starting to wonder if maybe this was just part of growing up; the part of you starts to rot where friendship used to be.
★
Danny didn’t bother going back to his old shack and instead went to a new one. He had to keep moving otherwise they would find him. It was strangely nostalgic. It reminded him of when Tucker, Sam and him were on the run from the Guys in White and Freak Show. The stakes were definitely higher then but the three of them were still able to have fun.
That taught them to always carry the essentials in case they ever went on the run. It helped Danny a few times after that when he would wake up in random locations due to the Guys in White or Skulker’s meddling. Just because he didn’t have a body doesn’t mean he didn’t need that skill anymore. The only things ‘necessary’ to him were his new clothes and his thermos. The phone, while it wasn’t strictly necessary, was still a good resource in case he needed to look stuff up on the go. He’d have to mess with it to make it compatible with his ectoplasm, of course. Moving around would be a lot easier with the backpack.
Said backpack was…nice. It was of good quality and was able to hold most of his stuff without it being too lumpy. But it was so very cringe. It screamed fan-boy in a way Danny hasn’t been since he was younger. That’s Deku for you, he just puts everything on his sleeve. It was an endearing trait but dangerous. Bully’s always target kids like that, and from what Danny knew, Deku was no exception. Most learn to hide that part of themselves, but there was strength in refusing to back down.
He used to feel ashamed of who he was. He hid whatever part of himself that would label him even more of a freak. He spent a good chunk of his freshmen year trying to get accepted into the in-crowd. He tried dressing like them, watching the latest shows (when he wasn’t getting the shit beat out of him by ghosts), he’d come short of bribing them to let him in.
He might have continued doing that into sophomore year when one night he got punched through Dash’s room by the Lunch Lady. All over the walls were Phantom fan merch. Fuzzy pictures from deactivated blogs, reddit posts printed out, there was even a custom made action figure that was just a repaint of Nightwing. Dash was in the center of it all doing awkward karate moves. He was even wearing a DIY shirt of Phantom. Something in Danny’s brain clicked into place when he saw that. Everyone was cringe.
After that, he worried less about what people around him thought. In their own way, they were just trying not to stand out either. High school was a cruel place. Some of those thoughts still bounced into Danny’s head.
‘Why did I make such a stupid expression?’
‘Was that reference out of place?’
‘Did I seriously just infodump on that person for 15 minutes straight?’
Deku did not seem to have that problem. He’s done all the things Danny thought were cringe and still smiled about it. He was cringe, but he was free.
Danny should remember to bring up heroes tomorrow for the boy. It was healing to watch him blab so freely. This must be what Jazz felt when she watched Danny talk about outer space.
He couldn’t let himself keep getting distracted. It had already been a few hours since he left Deku’s, he couldn’t waste anymore time. He had to get his duplicating skills on point.
Danny focused on the feeling of the duplicate splitting out of him from when he fought Pariah. It felt like stepping into a shower and suddenly getting assaulted by cold water before it heats up. That moment of shock and adjustment curling into one separate sensation that trickled down the back the longer you’re in. Or the feeling of being in a cold room drinking away the chill with a hot drink. Both times it is as if something is leaving you in a satisfying way.
He felt something ooze out of him, slowly at first, then quickly like a drain had been unclogged. He imagined that sensation gaining shaping, growing eyes and a mouth with teeth. He tried to picture the other features of his face but it was hazy. Was his nose straight or hooked? How about his lips; were they full or thin, and how did they look when he smiled?
A foul taste hit the back of his throat and gagged him. All at once his throat was too dry and too slimy, like he was throwing up a wet sock. Danny stopped the flow of ooze and a wet sound slashed on the floor as the last ends fell out.
The thing looked at him with blue and green eyes. All over its sloshed body were those eyes. It’s body–but it would be more accurate to call it a mass since it was a fleshy pink and green shapeless blob–writhed on the floor trying to get closer to Danny. Out of the mass were odd limbs with too many bones at awkward angles reaching out for him. It’s long fingers found Danny’s leg and clutched it, then began to pull itself up onto him. It’s gaping mouths with teeth too big to shut were half opening and closing like sea anemone as if trying to beg. Perhaps the most disturbing of all was that Danny was able to find his facial features in the mass. It reminded him of the half sentient and half melting clones that turned to puddles on the lab floor.
All the eyes were focused on Danny as if asking him what to do. It’s limbs had finally carried itself up his torso and was reaching his face. One of the mouths opened at Danny’s head and tried to swallow him. It’s fangs pierced inside Danny's skull then bubbled and absorbed within him. Was it trying to absorb Danny or the other way around? Despite how it looked, he sensed no pain from it. It had less awareness than a newly formed blob ghost. Still, the fact that it looked like it was uneased Danny.
He summoned the same distant feeling from the rat—the urge to destroy-–and targeted it at the stray ectoplasm. A tie severed and the mass lost all muscle and movement, then with nothing to keep it constrained, melted out on the floor and onto Danny.
He leaned back with his arms behind him and simply took a second to himself. The thicker blobs of goo spread out and soon there was a 3 foot radius surrounding him. It felt strangely nostalgic. Fortunately in this instance, it wasn’t Danny’s guts staining the floor boards. He laid down, allowing the ectoplasm to adhere to all sides of him. He felt it slowly sink into himself again, like a mop cleaning up vomit.
He really had no idea how he was going to be able to do this. It made sense. Not all of Danny’s rogue gallery used duplication. It wasn’t the amount of ectoplasm a ghost had but the control of it. Vlad, along with a few others, were the only ones Danny fought that used that ability. At the same time, he had seen blob ghosts be able to cleave apart as easily as Vlad. Those ghosts had years of experience on Danny. They knew how ectoplasm had felt, both inside and outside of the body. Instead of drawing a line where they ended and the ectoplasm began, they accepted that once the two merged, the line was erased—or at least, that's what Vlad had told him on one of the rare occasions he decided to be helpful.
Danny idly played with some of the stray ectoplasm, making it float and swirling it around his fingers. He spun it at different speeds, and some of the ectoplasm unbound from the rest leaving little bubbles behind the larger beads. He focused on that and made the droplets into different shapes. Some morphed into cartoon stars while the others wiggled into clumsy triangles or squares. Keeping them all constant shapes was difficult and required focus, but was manageable.
Each one wanted to mirror what the larger one was, like dancers that forgot their part. They all hummed with the same frequency as his core.
A painfully obvious idea hit his head. He pooled together the remaining ectoplasm on the floor in front of him. He sent out a hum from his core and it wiggled with the frequency. Instead of focusing on definite details of his body, he thought about the general essence of himself. What made him him. It wasn’t any of his physical features, that was only the shell. What was really him remained inside his core.
Regardless of the form, the same love of space and humor shone through, along with his rage and stubbornness. Sure, some aspects of his personality were enhanced as Phantom, but that was from being allowed to explore those traits and feelings without fear. All good and bad traits compile the person ‘Danny Fenton’. It didn’t matter if he was dead or alive, he was always himself.
The ectoplasm sapped more from Danny growing bigger. He held himself back from influencing it. He shouldn’t force it into something it's not. The fact of the matter was that his ectoplasm was him. It was him as much as his heart or his brain. So why did it feel so different? It wasn’t just that it was a different body now–he was comfortable with Phantom when he was alive–but it felt so foreign in its familiarity.
Phantom was always there under his fingertips, jiving right below the surface of himself. When he was Phantom, it was like stepping into a skin that was always meant to be yours. Phantom had the body he wanted. He had the power he wanted. Phantom could achieve stuff normal Danny couldn’t. In life, Phantom was an escape. But in death, he was a reminder of what he lost. He wanted to push that away, to pretend he didn’t understand his new self, but he did. He knew who he was much more intimately than he did before.
Danny was finally himself. He was Phantom.
★
Matter cannot be created or destroyed. The recycled parts of Phantom from when he was alive swirled within him now. He was always Fenton. That part didn’t go away when he died. He still had all his precious memories of his friends and life. He still had the same interests and hobbies. Nothing about him changed. He was like water being poured into a new glass.
He started pooling ectoplasm at the edge of his fingers. He wouldn’t force it to take the shape he wanted. Too much intent made it unstable. The new congealing part of himself had to resonate with his core in tune. It slowly poured out of him once again leaving the same bitter taste in his mouth.
Phantom tried one last time to split.