I don't own DP

Warnings: Language, violence, samxdanny hints, much hurt and comfort ;)

PART ONE

Prologue:

Deep within the dimensional counterpart to earth floated a massive chunk of land. On the very summit of it rested an ancient palace. It remained magnificent, at least three hundred feet tall, despite its crumbling exterior. Broken stone littered the front courtyard, leading up to great carved doors. A ghost alighted here, looking up at the intricate doors in awe.

"At last," he breathed. This was the fruit of his labors: the digging through old tomes that had taken him years; the arduous journeys to the far-reaches of the Ghost Zone, through bitter ice and boiling heat; the dangerous missions to obtain scraps of information, wading through hordes of enemies, of guards. All for this. He clutched the map—painfully pieced together—tightly in his right hand, crinkling it. It was useless, anyway; he'd found the place it led to. His left held a far more important item—the crown that would unlock the doors in front of him.

It had taken days to find this place, days he'd mostly forgone rest or water or food. He removed the pack that contained the remains of his rations, setting it on the ground beside him. Gently, he cradled the crown in both hands, walking up to the doors. They truly were glorious—scenes of battle played out on them, bits of lore scattered throughout. The queen's coronation shone as the centerpiece.

He flew up to the queen's head and inserted the crown there, the piece of jewelry that had taken so very long to get. It was tarnished, its silvery color dulled. The gems positioned artfully at the front of the circlet still gleamed in the dim, green-ish light. The crown clicked into place, and the man flew back down as the doors creaked open; he was too tired to remain airborne for long.

As he took his first step inside the structure he'd been searching for, his footstep echoing off the walls of the grand entry hall, something buried deep in the dark bowels of the castle opened its eyes.

And smiled.

Chapter One: Consuming Emergency Pancakes

Danny was sound asleep before he heard the news. Snoring peacefully, if rather ungracefully. He'd been slumbering for maybe an hour—ghost fighting and homework the previous night, or earlier that morning, rather, had deprived him of some much-needed rest.

When Jazz burst into his room, frantically yelling "Danny!", he shot up and out of bed, landing in an unstable crouch. His eyes were half-lidded, his cheek flushed from where it had been on his pillow, his chin was shiny from the little trickle of drool.

"Where's the ghost?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes. He seemed to register the sight of Jazz before him, though, standing with her hands disapprovingly on her hips, and he straightened up, more coherent. "Jazz? What're you doing in my room at—" He glanced over to his clock. 5:02 AM. "—five in the freaking morning!" He looked back at her, his gaze accusing.

"Danny, right now we have bigger problems than your inability to obtain the proper amount of sleep required for a boy your age," Jazz chided.

"Oh great, a lecture on my sleeping habits," he muttered, "just what I need."

"Snap out of it! Your secret's out," she told him. His head snapped up, and his eyes went wide.

"What? What do you mean, it's out? How did Mom and Dad react?" Danny began to gesticulate wildly, pacing back and forth. His eyes acquired a green-ish sheen with his growing agitation. "Oh, no, I have to go to school today, and that'll be a nightmare! And the GIW could be on their way right now! I'll be locked up, experimented on for the rest of my life! And what will they do to Sam and Tucker? Or you or our parents? If you try and defend me, they'll probably hurt or kill you! I'll just have run awa—"

"Danny!" Jazz exclaimed. She grasped his shoulders, and he stopped moving. "Listen to me. Calm down and let me finish. It's not your whole secret that got out." Danny raised his eyebrow.

"Well, which is it, Jazz? Does everyone know I'm half ghost or not?" he demanded. She let go of his shoulders.

"Here, it's easier to show you." She sat down on his bed, pulling out her phone. She felt something crinkle under her, and beneath the blanket was a sheet of rather wrinkled homework.

"You found it! I've been looking for that for days," Danny said, snatching the paper from her hand. "I can still get partial credit if I turn it in today."

"And you've been sleeping with it? When was the last time you cleaned your room?" Jazz asked, looking like she was debating staying where she was. "Or at least changed your sheets?"

"It's fine, Jazz; I hardly even sleep here anyway." Danny sighed. "So show me this all-important thing that may or may not jeopardize the secret I've been keeping for almost three years now."

"You know, after this, we should really have an in-depth discussion of your sleeping schedule," Jazz said. Danny waved his hand, sitting next to her, and she pulled up a video on her phone.

Uploaded 7 Hours Ago

234k Views

"GHOSTS EXIST – AND ONE IS HALF HUMAN" LEGIT CLIP FROM AMITY PARK NEWS

By Fisharefriendsnotfood

"Welcome to Amity News at Nine, everyone. I'm your host, Lance Thunder, and this is my co-host, Tiffany. Just earlier today, a rather interesting, anonymous caller contacted us with information on the famous, or infamous, ghost boy Phantom, formerly called Inviso-bill. Now, I've heard the call already, so I'm very keen to know what you'll think of it, Tiffany, and, of course, what our audience will think of it."

"I'm eager to hear it, Lance. Phantom, as I'm sure you all know, is a ghost who claims to protect the town. To many, his claims are credible, as evidenced by him fighting other ghosts that have directly attacked people." Here, several blurry pictures are shown on screen of a black-and-white figure punching something green.

"However, his good intentions are in dispute, what with the thousands of dollars his fights deal in property damage. Other incidents—which include kidnapping Amity's former mayor and robbing multiple locations—place his intentions and position as a superhero into question," she continues. "People also speculate that the drastic, non-ghost-related crime drop may have something to do with Phantom, although no one has ever conclusively caught him apprehending a human causing trouble."

"Regardless," Lance begins, "this new information, if accurate, will definitely change how he is perceived—and how he is treated. Let's play the clip." The two go silent as a deep, distorted voice plays on the audio.

"Hello, people of Amity Park," the voice says, "and make no mistake—while I am sending this to the News Station, this is meant for everyone." The voice laughs, a deep chuckle that would send shivers up the spine of anyone unfortunate enough to have their ears subjected to it. "Your city's protector, Phantom, has a filthy little secret I think everyone should know about." A person could almost see its grin over the smug pause. "He's not just a ghost, oh no. He's half human, a hybrid straddling the line between both worlds. I have it on good authority that he has a human form, and is hiding among you right now." Another pause. "But I have a purpose for telling this to you besides airing Phantom's dirty laundry. I will reward anyone who reveals his secret identity with five hundred thousand dollars. I am not lying, nor am I kidding. And ghost boy—I know you're listening—I wish you the best of luck in playing our game. May the best player win." The audio stops. Tiffany looks stunned, and Lance clears his throat.

"It is a bit much the first time around, I suppose," he says.

"Is that even possible?" Tiffany asks. "I mean, a half ghost, half human hybrid?"

"I don't know, but we have contacted the Fentons—Amity Park's resident experts on ghosts—and, for all of you interested, we are scheduled for an interview during tomorrow's show, so be sure to tune in. They will answer our most pressing questions: Is a hybrid of this nature possible? How could something like that happen? What would it mean, in a biological sense?"

"And the ethical concerns—I mean, how old is Phantom anyway? How old would he be as a human? The ghost fighting and the hunting…"

"Again, more excellent questions. I'm very interested to see how ghost hunters—mainly the Fentons and Red Huntress—react to this news. Will this deter them from hunting Phantom? Or will this strengthen their resolve to bring him down, make sure he doesn't fight anymore?"

"It does make some sense, though, especially in relation to his motivation to protect the town. If he does live here, he would be as invested in protecting it as any of us," Tiffany remarks. She thoughtfully rubs her chin with one finger. "And his Obsession—the thing that keeps a ghost here, as opposed to moving on—has also been a mystery. But as a half-human, would he even have an Obsession?"

"Find out that and more on tomorrow night's show, folks! Now, on to our next topic: a recent cat-knapper in the Heights neighborhood has upset a number of the elderly there. They—"

The clip ends there, but the YouTuber that uploaded it has popped up at the end: "Greetings, everyone. Mary here. And no, I'm not even kidding; this was on the news last night. I just moved to Amity Park for my real life job, as I'm sure you all know, and this ghost hoax thing is something they take way too far. I saw three signs advertising 'ghost tech' on my way to my new apartment! I mean, what the actual fuck? I thought it was a tourist trap, but even when you're not a tourist, they still pretend ghosts exist. Like, it was on the legit news station! Anyway, just thought I'd share that with you guys. I probably won't upload for a while, moving and all, but this was too good to pass up. Next week I'll probably give you a house tour and a ghost hoax update. If you enjoyed the video, please like, comment, and subscribe!"

The comments reveal even more feelings:

Freeforever1010 commented: Ya that towns a total meme. No proof to be seen but they still pretend ghosts exist. Newsflash guys cameras exist, u can use them!

~narutoisthebest~ commented: It's so ridiculous! Who the hell devotes part of the news to ghosts?! I mean maybe they're real but this is getting out of hand.

Jane Salberry commented: Need to get Ryan and Shane on this shit. Shane would probably say it's phony straight to their faces XDXD I'm dying.

JustoneReadheadedboy commented: As someone that lives in Amity Park, welcome! You will definitely see a ghost soon, probably even the ghost boy himself! Who's apparently half HUMAN! Trust me, you won't think it's a hoax for long. And as for proof… Well, no one can know for sure, but we think the GIW (the Ghostly Investigation Ward, they're a government agency that shows up to fight the ghosts) takes down videos and stories and stuff about ghosts. I've uploaded videos of Phantom before, even called them other things, but they always get taken down. If the stories are too specific, they'll vanish too. Super weird, right? Anyway, you're such a popular youtuber, maybe if you film one they won't be able to take it down in time. One could hope, right?

Danny sat back and rubbed his face with his hands. "It's too early for this," he groaned. He almost wished he'd just been revealed outright. At least then there wouldn't be this sense of suspense, this dread of knowing that his secrets were inevitably going to be ferreted out, thrown into the light for all to see. He'd be shown as he truly was—not some heroic, experienced ghost, but as a lowly, hated-on freak. Sure, in alternate realities other people had accepted him. Sure, they had come through and supported him. Sure, he'd managed to go on the run before. But this was different. This time, it was irreversible, and if he fled now, they'd all know it was him. This time, his parents' hatred of ghosts had grown. This time, his peers' distaste for him, regardless of how they'd listened to him during the pirate incident, might overpower their adoration of Danny Phantom.

"I know, little brother," Jazz comforted, patting his back. "But at least no one knows it's you, right?" She put her phone back in her pocket and stood up. "We'll definitely need a game plan for this, but right now I'm thinking pancakes."

"Pancakes," Danny agreed miserably. "I'll see if Sam and Tucker can come over before school; today's not going to go well, I can already tell." Jazz patted his arm once more before leaving his room, presumably to make pancakes. Danny flopped backwards onto his back, pulling out his phone. He went to the group chat he had with Sam and Tucker.

U guys heard yet? –DF

He'd probably have to wait for their responses; no one but Jazz could be up this early. He laid listlessly on his blankets, staring at the wall. What if they all found out, and everyone accepted him, but the GIW somehow captured him? Or threatened his family into his cooperation? They'd know where he lived—everyone would. Setting traps, getting to him, hurting him would be so much easier with his human side exposed as his weakness.

Finally, the enticing scent of pancakes forced him to grab some clothes. Thankfully, it was November, so he could wear his hoodie and long-sleeve shirt without any of the odd looks he'd garner if he wore them in summer. They weren't because he was actually cold, of course. The scars along his arms would be a dead-give away to his secret, especially now, when people had reason to link suspicious scars to ghosts.

He had a rather nasty, rather memorable one on his right arm—one of the ghosts, he didn't even remember who, maybe Skulker or Fright Knight, had gouged it with a blade. Only, it had almost sheared through bone, which would've left him limbless. Even with Tucker and Sam's on-the-job trauma training, they wouldn't have been able to reattach a limb. No one could do that. He'd been out of commission for a while, and people had thought maybe Phantom had lost the arm, even against the reassurances, or perhaps the admonishments, of the Fentons that ghosts could regrow those types of things. They had no real internal structure, after all, just bundles of nerves, veins, a brain-like structure, and a core.

Danny stepped into the shower, turning it all the way in the red. It practically had to be boiling for him to feel the warmth. His mom and dad complained he took up all the hot water—mostly his dad, actually. But he wanted a hot shower. He stepped in, letting the heat wash over him.

What could he do to stop people from discovering the identity of his human half? Not get captured, obviously. Beyond that? Wing it, maybe. He was better with coming up with plans on the fly than making actual plans, but part of it was also that one couldn't really plan for things like these, or they'd go crazy from the what-ifs. Besides that, what kind of nut-job would've found out that he had a human half, but not who he was? And why couldn't they have left well enough alone, or even just investigated themselves? Why had they sent basically everyone after him?

And it was good to know the rest of the world thought their small city was full of whackos, not in the midst of observing what basically amounted to a whole new type of sentient "life." Okay, some of the ghosts had been humans before, but some had also been born in the ghost zone, through ectoplasm forming off an idea or religion, or through more… normal… means. Not that his parents knew that; they'd never bothered to ask. Or observe. Or go into the Ghost Zone to check. Although he preferred it when they stayed here.

He stepped out of the shower and went intangible to get the water off. Ah, the benefits of ghost powers. He changed into his clothes, ruffled his hair so that it looked stylishly messy, and wandered downstairs to check on the food. His phone vibrated just as he sat down.

Dude it's everywhere. Be over in 10 –TF

Tucker knew him too well. It was lucky he didn't live too far away, otherwise it would be a pain to meet up anywhere, because, although Tucker had his license, he did not have a car. Danny had neither a license nor a car, and Sam had both, fortunately, because she was loaded. It was a fancy car, too.

Danny stacked his plate high with pancakes, pleased that Jazz was nice enough to make them for him. Jazz had been vital in helping him with his diet; ghost fighting took major calories (which the others theorized had to do with his powers) and he had to eat two to three times more than a regular person. He definitely would've had a fainting spell or two if it hadn't been for Jazz giving him lots and lots of food. Constantly. It was actually a tad overbearing, now that he thought about it.

"Tucker'll be over soon," Danny said, taking a large bite.

"Good. We need to sort this out before you go to school," she said, flipping another pancake. "Sam?"

He shook his head. "Not awake." Jazz hummed. "Where are Mom and Dad?" He checked his phone. "Aren't they usually up by now?"

"Late night, I expect." Jazz finished making the food and sat down to eat. "Talking about the possibility of the ghost boy actually being half-human."

"How did they react?" He asked, taking a sip from his orange juice.

"Don't know. They didn't tell me; I found out this morning because I'd heard that Mary was moving to Amity Park, and I wanted to observe the change that took place in her overtime. I'm trying to determine the affect ghost attacks have on the psyche of an average citizen, especially long-term. I mean, I'm sure it causes some level of anxiety, but how does it affect their religious views, or their political ones? I definitely need a larger sample size, but not as many people move into Amity Park nowadays, even with the office buildings opening—"

"Jazz." Danny raised an eyebrow. "You're getting into Dad-levels of digression." Jazz scowled lightly at him.

"I am not. Dad's obsession with ghosts is far above my healthy interest in psychology—which I'm majoring in and have every right to be interested in. Thank you."

"I'm sure you'll be here all night," Danny said drily. "No five stars from me, though, sorry—your Ted Talk needs a little more work."

"Danny," Jazz said, exasperated.

"What? You'll never be able to teach properly if you go on tangents like that. Sometimes, you put the psycho in psychology." Jazz shook her head.

"Anyway, no one below the age of twenty even watches the news on a regular basis anymore, so I saw it there, and, well, you needed to know ASAP."

There was a knock at the door, and Tucker poked his head in (Danny had secretly made both him and Sam a copy of the house key. Just in case). Tucker saw the two of them, sitting at the table in their "strategy positions" as he called them (whenever they planned anything, there were specific, designated spots for them. It was an unspoken rule, but it was always followed). "Emergency pancakes?" he asked. Jazz always seemed to try to soften the blow of bad news with food, not that he was complaining. He sat down to the right of Danny.

"This definitely counts as an emergency," Danny sighed, propping his head up with his fist. "We need like a million pancakes."

Danny's phone vibrated:

Omw –SM

"She's coming," Danny said. Tucker began to fill his plate with pancakes, mindful of the ones with the weird tint—those were the vegan ones Sam liked. It wasn't out of respect for her lifestyle choices, though. As if he'd willingly eat anything not made with something from an animal.

"So, this small, Phantom-is-half-human issue we're having. Any ideas?" He asked, poised to record any and all serious suggestions onto a list.

"Keep it down, would you, Tucker? Mom or Dad could come down any time!" Danny chided.

"Dude, chill; we'd hear them long before they'd hear us. You need to relax—maybe a spa day? I'm told they're great for removing those stress wrinkles," Tucker said.

"In all seriousness," Jazz cut in before Danny could say something else, "you should probably stay under the radar, Danny. Let us handle the low-level ghosts." She could see the immediate disagreement in the way he clenched his fork and the tightening of his mouth.

"What if you got hurt? You guys are good, really good, but not survive-getting tossed-through-walls good," Danny said. As a half-ghost, he had an advantage over his fully human companions when battling ghosts. He could match his enemies, beat them, at their own game. Jazz, Tucker, or Sam, though? They wouldn't survive if they had to go just hand-to-hand with one of them. And weapons could be knocked out of their hands, could malfunction, could run out of ammunition. Danny? Danny couldn't.

"We won't get tossed through any walls, then," Tucker said. "I don't think you're giving us a fair chance, here."

"It's only logical," Jazz tried. "We won't take on the hard ones without you—we can't, anyway. But it's too dangerous for you to be out in you ghost form more than you need to be. Who knows what could happen?"

"Being captured, vivisection, dissection, experimentation, torture, death," Tucker listed out on each of his fingers. "Really anything."

"Yes, thank you, I know." Danny drained the rest of his juice. "I know, okay?" He put the empty glass down on the table harder than necessary.

"Okay, okay. Us poor little baby humans don't fight the big bad ghosties on our own," Jazz said sarcastically. "What do you suggest we do, then?"

Just then, a second knock came at the door, and in walked Sam. She looked slightly disheveled—definitely hadn't had time to properly do her make-up, and her clothing was wrinkled, like it hadn't been washed, or there hadn't been time to iron it.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, slipping into the last seat. "How are you taking it, Danny?"

"Just peachy," Danny grumbled, putting his head face down in his arms. "What I don't get," he said, voice slightly muffled, "is why someone would want this. And offer such a stinking big reward, too."

"Who knows? We don't have time to investigate it now; we'll start doing that after school. Now we need to contain the issue and make sure your secret doesn't get out. A ghost attack could come any minute, and we have to be prepared."

"That's what we've been trying to do, but Mr. Hero over there doesn't think we can handle the low-level ghosts," Tucker said.

"Well, Mr. Hero is going to have to get over it. I'm sorry he has no choice but to rely on us mere mortals in these times of crisis, but if he doesn't want to end up as a lab rat for some wacko, he'll have to step it up." Sam grabbed a couple of the vegan pancakes.

"Yeah, yeah." Danny raised his head. "Look, you have to tell me who you're fighting. And where. And call me if you need any help. I'll take care of the level five and up ones, okay?"

"Yes, Mother," Sam agreed.

"Sounds like the good basis for a plan," Jazz conceded.

"Hey, Tucker, pass the fake butter, would you?" Sam asked.

AN: Greetings. I do have plans for this story, but expect a poor updating schedule. Sorry. I'm really really not good at updating frequently. I'd love a review, even if it just says "this is shitty." Please. I would like to thank my sister who looked this over for mistakes. Hope you enjoyed.