Chapter Text
Who knew all those poetry and superstitions were true? one did recall their whole life when they were about to die. Better report it to someone to get rid of the question -he chuckled inside his mind- Danny could see flashes of all his birthdays, all his science projects and all his visits to the local planetarium before it was closed. He saw how he managed to befriend Tucker, the awkward eight-year-old that refused to let go of his smart screen tablet; how he met Sam at their last year at elementary school, all pink frilly dresses and permanent scowl.
All the pranks he did, all the trouble he got himself into. But something was wrong, as the electricity started to peak in energy, as he felt his body tore apart and rearrange itself.
He saw green eyes, tanned skin, sandy dunes, snowy heavens.
He saw someone like him, in all but skin tone and eye color. He remembered holding a sword, a knife, nunchakus, ropes, chains…weapons. He remembered climbing mountains, walking endlessly in the dessert, always chasing the same boy. Never actually being able to reach him.
And then, all went black.
-
In the aftermath, his friends managed to give an excuse convincing enough to his parents that let him get away from school for at least a week. Thanks’ to Sam’s insistence they managed to convince them to not go to the hospital; pretty sure the whole ‘my limbs turn invisible when I’m nervous’ wasn’t normal, and he didn’t want to be classified as a meta -not that it was anything wrong with being one, but deep in his soul he knew…he knew he was another thing completely different- because that would put another label on him at school, he wasn’t going to give them any more reason to call him ‘Fenton Freak’, he got shoved into lockers enough as it was.
But with the week of rest, the memories settled, the old ones, the ones he didn’t even knew he had. Jazz often worried when she caught him staring into the sky, but there was this tough that nagged him and didn’t let him sleep; because, in those memories, he didn’t saw her, he didn’t saw his parents.
Only the boy, always the boy.
And suddenly, he felt lonely, yearning for someone he didn’t quite managed to remember, but that he knew, deep inside, once meant the world to him.
Akhi, a small voice whispered, wistful, sad, alone.
That was why he used his time, to search all over the house, he found photo albums, video tapes, all recording the silly normal live -as normal a live can be with ghost obsessed parents- and found something that make his blood turn cold-er.
Maddie Fenton was an organized woman, far more than her husband. All the albums were labeled and ordered by year, with small notes in some of the photos.
(‘Jazz first day at school’ ‘Danny’s first tooth fell!’ ‘Jazz’s first steps’ ‘Jazz’s first word’
Jazz, Jazz, Jazz…Where was he?)
There were no photos of him when he was a toddler, the first one being one when he was five years old. Looking like a scared cat on top of the fridge -of all the places to hide- snarling, as if waiting to bite someone.
But there were no other older photos, and this one was suspiciously named ‘Danny’s first day at home’ was he…was he adopted?
He ran to the basement, panting, knocking wildly on the locked door. A new safety measure after the incident -it may be too late for that, a part of him thought bitterly- He paced, trying to maintain his breathing, his mom rushed up looking a little bit concerned.
“Honey? What’s wrong? Are you feeling, okay?” He couldn’t form words, so he shoved the photo at her face, the hulking form of his dad -was he really his dad? - coming up the stairs. Bluish-purple eyes stared sadly at the photo, and then at him “You were such a tiny thing Honey”
“Barely five, not knowing who you were…it broke our hearts” Dad’s -Jack?- booming voice made him stare blankly at them, so they knew, and for sure Jazz knew, she would have been seven when he arrived, she should remember but then…
“Was someone ever going to tell me?”
Maddie grimaced, and gently guided him to the living room. Where she sat both down in a side hug, for once removing the suit’s cowl and her lenses.
“We were honey, I promise we were…but” Jack sat dawn at Danny’s other side, for once not gushing around. Maddie took a shivering breath. “You had amnesia; child services said that the police found you in a car crash site…the only survivor”
“They said that you had scars, old wounds, that they suspected ch-child abuse…we didn’t want to bring back bad memories, honey. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner”
“Not all were bad” He mumbled under his breath, when had he started crying?
~
“Dany! C’mon” He was again in that hot dessert, cladded in robes way to heavy for that type of weather. An enormous backpack at his back. He was running, rather clumsily after another boyish figure, both couldn’t be older than four.
Yet, they were alone in the desert…why?
“Wait! You are too fast D---” He tripped in the unstable ground and faceplanted, gaining a mouthful of sand. Danny started to cry, making the other boy sigh and walk back to him.
“You are such a baby,” The unknow boy said in exasperation, helping him to sit up, his hand was covered in blisters and small cuts. But it was warm, good warm. Same hand tilted his head up, and he stared mesmerized at emerald, green eyes. “Shush, you know mother doesn’t like when we cry”
But weren’t they small? Weren’t they young? Toddlers were supposed to cry, to be held, not to be abandoned to their luck.
“I’m sorry” younger him mumbled, hastily standing up, not bothering to release the hand that had been offered. The green-eyed kid pulled slightly, and they started their journey again “I don’t want to train”
“You know what happens if we don’t” The boy said grimly, and for some reason his small body felt a full body shiver even in the suffocating weather “An A- G—needs to know this to inherit it all”
“You are the Heir, you are the Ibn al Xu'ffasch, I’m just an unwanted addition” Younger Danny grumbled a little bit sadly under his breath, small legs trembling from the exhaustion. The boy turned sharply at that, giving him a calculating glare, way out of place on someone so young.
“Who told you that Dany?”
“Mother”
~
Danny took the whole weekend to organize his thoughts, coming to some very contradicting but soundly arguments.
Maddie and Jack Fenton were still his parents, they loved him despite knowing he wasn’t their son. Jazz loved him like a brother despite not being related. So, he was sure, his little family could hold the huge revelation and maintain itself intact. There was no case in him being mad at Jazz for maintaining the secret this long.
(“When I saw you, I already knew you were my brother, Danny”)
But all the love in the world couldn’t make him tell them his secret, not when he highly suspected he had been turned into a ghost, an abomination that somehow was alive and dead at the same time.
His parents loathed ghosts, even with all their research they only saw them as evil beings. His sister refused to believe in ghosts, and he would let her to her ignorance as far as he could. No, it was his secret. And he feared how they may react. So, he kept quiet.
~
“That’s not fair, you are stronger than me” Danny complained spread out in the training mat, panting. Their training had just finished and to be time efficient they were eating there to then go back to language classes.
The boy smirked, sitting cross-legged near Danny’s face “Of course, I am, I’m older than you”
Danny spluttered, sitting up rapidly “Just for like, ten seconds!”
“Nu-uh, at least an hour”
He scoffed, shoving the boy away from the plates of food, taking a small piece of Naan and throwing it at him. “Don’t be ridiculous”
“Don’t waste food”
Grumbling Danny looked back at his plate and made a face when he noticed the quantity of vegetables in it. He then turned to the boy giving him pleading eyes “I’ll give you my fruit if you eat my veggies”
“That’s why you are short”
Before they could continue to biker further, someone opened the door. Danny’s small body went tense, and hastily stood up, eyes never fully seeing the new figure. All he could see was a green tunic.
“Boys”
“Mother” they replied in unison, but more like one could address a commander. Danny felt his gut twisting.
~
All the turmoil was quickly put aside when the ghost started to appear. His parents quickly making ecto-weapons, guilt making him fight the ghost on his own ghostly form. Days passed, months passed, he got a hold of his powers, he fought ghost, so many of them.
But there was still that nagging feeling in his head, something else bothered him in his -what he now knows to be- ghost core. He felt restless, like something was missing.
The dreams with the green-eyed boy on them were spare, but always gave him comfort, and appeared when everything else seemed to be about to spiral out of control. They gave him hope, they were the memories he used to calm himself down.
The missing piece was still there, until he found it.
They were hanging out, on top of an abandoned building, Sam had insisted on going, to check out the place. Tucker had snickered, muttering about that even if it was rumored to be haunted, with Danny there, it made the statement true.
It was boring to say the least, after so many encounters with ghost, nothing faced them anymore. That was why they were on the roof, the only place where they got decent signal to watch videos and complain to each other about teen gossip.
Danny had transformed into Phantom after Tucker got the idea of making him an official twitter account and while they were taking silly photos, Sam was navigating on her phone. That was until she called them over with a confused face.
“Danny, are you aware you look almost exactly like Damian Wayne when you are transformed?”
“Who?” Danny frowned, Wayne, weren’t they that one rich family from New Jersey? Gotham if he remembered right. He remembers how the A-lister would gush and whisper around every time a new article came up of the infamous playboy ‘Brucie’ Wayne.
“Youngest son of Bruce Wayne, the one that is our age…”
“The extreme activist that is also vegetarian Sam always gushes about” Piped in Tucker gaining himself a smack to the head.
“Just, see” Sam passed the phone to both, displaying a photo of a kid of their age in front of a very gloomy looking animal shelter, a very familiar tanned skinned kid. Danny’s eyes widened.
“Uh, yeah, sure…if you squint and like…paint Phantom’s hair black and dim his eyes down a little bit” Tucker was right, the kid had pure black-hair -like the one Danny had on is human form- and Danny’s eyes were toxic green, like ectoplasm, not whatever shade the kid had.
But something in his gut twisted, something small that he had forgotten lighting up in hope, bubbling with anticipation. “Do you have any close shot of his face?”
“What? Got a crush?” Teased the dark-skinned kid, barely missing a well-timed smack from the other two “How narcissist of you”
Sam rolled her eyes but went back to her phone, hopefully to find a decent photo of the kid. “Yeah, sure, wait”
When he saw it, tears started to stream down his face without him noticing. It was the same boy of his dreams. The warm emerald-green eyes from his memories seemed a lot colder, but there was no mistaking it.
“You ok dude?” Asked worriedly Tucker, giving him a worried glance, why was everything blurry? Oh, right, he was crying.
Taking deep breaths and looking up in a vague attempt to stop the tears (and who knew ghost could cry?) Danny gave his two best friends a watery smile, “I…I think that’s my brother”