Chapter Text
This is how it starts: A young man hovers over a Robin. He introduces himself as dead and would like to have assistance, if they would consider it. He keeps meeting them, keeps reaching out, he keeps... He needs a place to protect, a home to love, a… wait, no, this is not the beginning.
It begins as an aged creature sits in a tower of clocks, reading and reading and learning all that he had missed. His eyes will not stop watering, his heart breaking, and he is unmoored and… No, that’s not correct either.
A grotesque amalgamation of limbs thrash and spasm as ghosts of all types attempt to pin him down, to help him, to heal him. It is screaming, it is enraged, it is so lonely and hurt – wait, stop, I’ll get it, give me a second.
A dead horror hovers over two corpses scattered with pearls, unseen as a child cries in their cooling blood. It opens its mouth, not allowing for the spirits to reach out and form, the dead should stay dead, no more stealing life beyond the grav-
A boy in his late teens enters a new city, floating and spectral as he looks around. The living abound and there are no true ghosts in this realm, only spirits with enough will to form, untouching and untouched. He can do good here but he will not live. He doesn’t want new friends or family. He just wants to protect, there will be no acceptance here-
A boy floats in an ever changing landscape as he’s told he can not go home, that its no longer safe, tha-
A boy walks into a portal and dies. Here we are, of course, this is where it started.
It starts with a dead boy, and then he starts again to breathe… and really, it only goes downhill from there, doesn’t it?
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Daniel Fenton died at he ripe age of 14 as his two friends watched. It wasn’t a long life. It wasn’t really a full life. He hadn’t reached any of his dreams and barely any of his milestones. But, hey, dead is dead, right?
Daniel Fenton began his life at the baby soft age of 14. He was not living, he was not dead, but for all intents and purposes, he was alive.
For two years this worked for him. He could ‘change’ into a ghost and have amazing powers. He could live as a human and enjoy burgers and movies with his living friends. He got to get into fights knowing that, as much as it hurt, it could hardly kill him more than he was already dead. He fought ghosts, protected people, was recognized at least a little bit as a hero, and only had to hide every single thing from his parents.
That was fine, though. If they ever found out, Jazz would help him. His parents loved him, unequivocally, and it would be quite the hurtle, and there would be so much broken trust, but they would come around.
It was unfortunate, then, that over the summer of his 16th year, they proved him wrong.
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Jazz hated the summer. It was too hot, there was too much to do before going to college, and as much as she loved him – and she did, deeply and truly and without hesitation – her brother was still a dumb teen-aged boy with very little impulse control and too much power and expectations and he constantly got into scraps and into trouble and- ... Jazz worried. A lot.
Unfortunately, it was with no surprise that she came home to her parents in a tizzy, frazzled and angry and nearly panicking, and Jazz already had a sinking feeling about what caused it. Her dad approached her quickly, worry etched into his face, “Princess, we caught him, we finally got Phantom.”
Yeah, that was her heart dropping to her toes; she wanted to immediately raise her voice, but his overt concern stopped her tongue, “Jazzy-kins, it has your brother. It’s – it’s got Danny.”
He stared at her, watching to mitigate her reaction, loving as always… but they had Danny. They had Phantom and… thought that he’d stolen Danny? What?
Her mom piped up, rubbing a careful hand across her back. “I know it’s hard, Honey, you’ve supported Phantom this whole time, but it’s… It showed us, Jazz. It’s -” Her mom’s voice cut off, eyes hidden behind her goggles and unemotive, as her face slowly shattered around it. “Danny died 2 years ago. And Phantom took over his body.”
Jazz froze for a moment, processing that sentence, and slowly felt relief flood her body. Oh, good, it was a misunderstanding. Danny was so bad with his words, she could still fix this. She let out a breathy laugh, placing her hands over her father’s, “No, no, that’s not, he’s not dead. Not really.”
Her parents exchanged a worried look and Jazz spoke faster, wanting to derail whatever conclusion they were coming to. “Danny, he got ‘changed’ when he went into the portal, remember, about 2 years ago? He’s not, he’s not /dead/ dead, he’s just got a lot more ectoplasm and can use ghost powers.” She could convince them; she didn’t really get the science behind the changes, but she had looked into it and she knew enough. Her parents would be able to fill in the gaps she was missing, of course, they were geniuses, they knew ectobiology so well.
Her parent’s faces shuttered, looked carved into stone, and Jazz spoke faster to get through to them, more emphatically, “He was scared to tell you, you guys can be really set in your ideas you know, but, but you know now! So we can talk about it! We can expl-”
“You knew.” Her mom whispered, her hand still and unmoving on her back now. “You… you knew and you-” For the first time, Jazz heard her mom’s voice crack in a sob and she whirled around to face her, dislodging her dad’s hands on her shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable and some small child-like part of her afraid. “You knew,” she continued with a breaking voice, “and you didn’t tell us. You let your brother get – get puppeted around by, by that memory of him!”
Jazz stared, suddenly scared for her brother all over again; they weren’t listening, “N-no, he’s not dead, it’s just Danny.”
Her mom shook her head, turning around and roughly taking off her goggles to scrub at her face, “No, Jazz, it’s not!”
Her dad’s hands were back on her shoulders, turning her away from the scene and back towards him. He was openly crying, cheeks wet and lips trembling, “Jazz, honey, no. That’s not how it works.” He rubbed her shoulders, obviously comforting himself as he tried to comfort her, “You can’t be both dead and alive. There is only one. Danny… Danny died, sweety. Danny died and h-his own ghost possessed him.”
Jazz wrenched herself backwards out of his hands, suddenly feeling frustrated, “No, you’re not listening. He didn’t really die, he’s been fine! He’s growing up, he has a pulse, he, he bleeds and thinks and you’ve seen him be sweet, too!”
Maddie twisted back around, face dry, voice rough, “No, Jasmine, just…. No! This isn’t a theoretical, this isn’t, isn’t a mental test, there is no cat in a box. You are only dead or you are only alive, and if Phantom told you differently, he was just trying to play on your emotions. Jazz-”
She cut herself off, taking a deep breath and scrubbing at her face again, “Jazz, I’m sorry. I’m sorry it lied, I’m sorry we didn’t notice the changes sooner, I’m, I’m sorry we didn’t protect you. But he’s gone, baby, he died." She took another breath, chest hitching, "We have to remove Phantom and give his body closure.”