The halfa burst into Lancer's office long after dark, just as the teacher finished grading a stack of particularly horrible freshman essays.

"You could knock, Mr Fenton," he snapped, kneading his fingertips into his temples in an attempt to alleviate the headache that had throbbed there for the past hour or so.

Danny moved forwards, surprising Lancer by placing cool fingers over the educator's temples. A cool sensation brushed away the throbbing heat, the headache gone as if it had never been there.

The halfa pulled away, tendrils of emerald seeping from his cerulean eyes as the supernatural glow around his hands faded. "Sorry," he said quickly. "I know you hate cold things, but –"

"It's alright, Mr Fenton; I feel a lot better now, so thank you."

Danny gave a strained smile before beginning to pace. Lancer bit back the questions that rose within him, noting with a pang of concern that the boy was trembling. And… was that red-and-green blood staining a large patch of his shirt? Again?

The boy completed his circuit of the room twice more before collapsing into a chair with a strangled sound, tugging at the neckline of his shirt as though it was trying to choke him.

"Are you hurt?"

Danny shook his head at the quiet question. "I got cut up a bit by Skulker several hours ago now; it's already healed." He lifted the hem of his shirt, displaying a lattice of fresh, pink scars to reinforce his claim. Lancer swallowed thickly, but otherwise didn't react to this alarmingly familiar situation.

It had become an unspoken secret between the two; their lives had been changed by the night spent in those cages.

The Fentons' security system had been modified so that it no longer trapped humans, Danny's 'living' form included. The halfa's illness, however, hadn't been so easy to fix; the extended time without treatment or warmth had allowed the cold to run rampant, and with his immune system so low, Danny had contracted a particularly virulent strain of the ghostly flu. He'd been sick all the way through winter, coughing up glowing phlegm and trying to hide all supernatural symptoms from the doctors and his parents.

It didn't seem contagious, but Danny was still forbidden from attending school. He managed to do schoolwork on the days that he felt up to it, and the boy had improved his grades in every subject except gym. The ghosts had also backed off, unwilling to expose themselves to something that was proving very difficult to recover from.

The boy had been back at school now for just over a month, and the ghosts had returned with unmasked enthusiasm. They attacked one after the other, as though they were lining up on the other side of the portal. The only advantage was the lull after a particularly bad series of attacks; Danny caught all of the main offenders, and simply 'forgot' to empty the thermos for a day or two. This seemed to give him a bit of a chance to relax, but Lancer could clearly see that Danny was still exhausted.

Things in the classroom were relatively unchanged. However, Lancer no longer bothered to ask for an explanation when it came to incomplete homework, sleeping in class, or the boy's abrupt comings and goings. Sure, he gave the halfa the occasional detention, but that was only to avoid as much suspicion as possible.

Danny was trying as hard as he could, but they had talked long and late one night shortly after the cage debacle. There had been a lot of demands, and compromises were adopted by both parties. Lancer had finally conceded that Daniel was practically an adult; whatever the teacher chose to do, he had to respect the hero's wishes.

Lancer relaxed at the realisation that Danny wasn't about to die on his office floor thanks to ghost hunting injuries. Instead he quirked an eyebrow, pushing aside the stack of freshly graded essays and steepling his fingers. "It's very late, Daniel. You're still recovering your strength, so you should be heading to bed."

Danny sent the man a pleading look. "I need your help."

Stretching luxuriously, the teacher gave a groan of relief. "Well, out with it. I need to go home to Steph."

The ghost boy slumped forwards, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Mum and Dad… I-I think…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I think that they're figuring it out."

Oh.

William got up, moving to sit in the seat beside Daniel. "How much do you think they know?" he asked quietly. "You planned to tell them when you graduate – can you keep them in the dark until then?"

Danny shook his head in despair. "Mum's too smart. Dad, maybe, but Mum? She won't last a week, let alone the month until graduation!" He looked at Lancer with panic-filled eyes. "The ghost flu clued them in, I think, and she commented this morning that they want to talk to me about my ghost half when I get home."

Lancer placed a comforting hand on Danny's shoulder, reasoning that nobody was around to notice and report the contact this late at night. "What did she actually say?"

"She said, 'When you get home, your father and I want to talk to you about Phantom'." Danny's shoulders began to shake. "I texted Mum to tell her that I'm studying late at Sam's, but I think she called them up to look for me a little while ago, because she keeps ringing my phone; I had to turn it off so I could focus on catching Technus just then!"

Lancer sighed heavily. "Mr Fenton, I have to go home. If you're not ready to face your parents yet, you can use my guest bedroom, but only for tonight – we have to sort this out sooner or later, after all."

"Thank you so much!" Danny stood quickly, helping the teacher pack up. It was more than the hero had allowed himself to hope for, and definitely better than his plan to sleep in one of the trees that ringed the park.

As Danny carried the teacher's incredibly heavy bag out to the car park, Lancer fished for his keys. He had thought that the boy would fly to their destination, but Danny quietly got into the car. It took the halfa three tries to buckle his seatbelt thanks to trembling fingers.

"Have you eaten, Daniel?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, all I've had since lunch is a bit of emotion."

"How about a Nasty Burger?"

The boy smiled tentatively. "I'll pay," he offered.

Lancer put the car into drive and pulled out onto the street. "You most certainly will not – taking care of you is the least I can do."

Danny shrugged, the mere prospect of food and a safe bed visibly calming him. "I eat a lot," he warned. "My core needs a lot of energy, y'know. Emotions and triple servings of food are usually enough to keep me going, but I can sometimes still end up with my ghost side starving, and then I need to spend a lot of time in the Ghost Zone to absorb the ambient energy. In extreme cases, I even have to eat ectoplasm."

Lancer sighed, slumping over the steering wheel as they waited for traffic lights to turn green. "Your secret becomes more complicated every time we talk about it."

"Um, sorry?" Danny smiled sheepishly, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

"Don't be," Lancer advised, finally moving through the intersection and pulling into the fast food joint's drive-through. "Now, what'll it be?"

Danny grinned. "You sure you want to do this?"

The teacher smiled in response. "Daniel Phantom, I'm more than happy to feed you as much as you need tonight."

They sat in Lancer's car in the Nasty Burger's car park, and Danny pulled up his legs to sit cross-legged in the shotgun seat. The teacher had long since finished his food, and watched in amusement as Danny licked at the juice that dribbled from the wrapper of his fourth – and final – burger.

"How do you have room? I mean, your stomach's only so big…"

Danny gave a genuine, carefree laugh. "My ghost side absorbed most of it straight up," he confessed, moving on to the large carton of fries. "The ectoplasm sort of engulfs my stomach and transforms the food into spectral energy. I dunno how it works beyond that, so don't ask. Now I'm just feeding my mortal body." He paused, licking salt from his fingertips thoughtfully. "Well, as mortal as something like me can get."

Lancer took a large gulp of a Nasty Shake. "You're not mortal, are you?"

Danny shook his head at the soft-spoken question. "Of course not. Vlad, for all that he's a fruitloop, has at least helped me understand what I am exactly. You know, I'm going to stop aging as soon as my core matures."

"Matures?"

Danny sighed. "Sorry, ghost jargon. When my ghostly core matures completely, it'll be fully integrated with my body; no more silly power slips, or loss of control. It should happen about my tenth deathday. When it does happen, I'll be fully immortal, and I'll live forever." His voice turned bitter, and Danny busied himself with devouring the final few fries.

Lancer knew better than to push the boy. Instead, he advised Danny to buckle his seatbelt, and drove them across town to the small house that William shared with his daughter. Along the way, the late-night news update played through Lancer's crackly radio. Danny slumped in his seat, hiding his face in his hands as a triple homicide was announced. This reaction caused Lancer to wonder for one horrible moment if the boy blamed himself for being unable to stop every crime that occurred within the city's boundaries.

The halfa only perked up when the story changed to detail Amity Park's miracles; over the past year or so, people with incurable conditions had miraculously healed overnight. It was only in Amity Park, and there was no indication as to how this was possible. If anything could make the case even more unusual, it was that a healing occurred only once every two to three weeks, as though the mysterious 'Amity Angel' needed time to recuperate. Lancer shut off the radio, huffing good-naturedly and pulling into the driveway.

"Does Steph know?" Danny asked as they got out of the car. "You know, about Phantom."

William shook his head, leading the way up a path that snaked through the overgrown garden. "No," he whispered, "she doesn't. I promised that I wouldn't tell anyone, didn't I?"

The ghost boy ducked his head, the flush on his cheeks visible in the light that filtered through thin curtains across the living room window. "I know, but… thank you."

The teacher chose not to respond, instead ushering the teen through the front door. "Steph, it's just me," Lancer called, kicking off his shoes and padding through to the living room with Danny in tow.

The girl in the wheelchair flicked her eyes away from the television screen, grinning broadly at the sight of her father. "Hi, Dad!" she chirped, gaze shifting to Danny. "Who's this?"

Lancer chuckled, moving towards his daughter and running a hand through her short, black hair. "This is Daniel Fenton. The one who I got stuck in those cages with?"

Steph's smile broadened. "Hi, Daniel. Thanks for taking care of my dad – he can be a bit of an idiot sometimes."

The ghost child decided that he liked this young woman, especially the way that her eyes sparkled with the simple joy of being in the company of friends. "It's Danny," he offered, "and Mr Lancer took far more care of me than I did of him."

Those sparkling quicksilver eyes crinkled in a gentle laugh.

"Daniel, I'll just get the guest room ready for you," Lancer announced, ambling down the hallway.

Danny perched on the edge of the couch, shooting the quadriplegic woman a sidelong glance. "It's okay," she offered, "I'm used to people staring."

Danny shook his head, turning his gaze to the television without actually seeing the screen. He had the strength to do it, but this was the only secret that nobody knew, and he rather wanted to keep it that way…

Fidgeting, Danny stole a glance at Steph again. She was watching the T.V., but it was obvious that she didn't see the screen; her mind was elsewhere, imprisoned by a broken body.

The halfa slipped into ghost form, flinching as the flash of light caused Steph to snap back out of her daydream. Her eyes found his, and the woman's expression froze. Danny pressed a gloved finger gently against his lips, whispering, "Please don't scream; I'm not going to hurt you."

Steph took a shuddering breath. "Phantom?" she breathed, tensing as he shifted along the couch until he was sitting directly next to her wheelchair.

"This'll be faster if you tell me exactly where your spine broke," he murmured, kneeling on a cushion and removing his gloves to run icy fingers across the back of her exposed neck.

"It's been you this entire time? You're the Amity Angel? Danny… oh, there!"

Danny increased the pressure against the spot that she indicated, splaying his fingers across her skin and reaching with his powers to find the damaged area. Everything around him fell away, and Danny pressed his hands over the spot, pouring all of his strength into a burst of power that shot from his hands, enveloping the tissue with a freezing beam of healing.

It was over as quickly as it had begun, and Danny slumped back onto the couch, leaning his head back and panting as his limbs shook with sudden exhaustion.

Steph screamed for her father, and Lancer came running.

The teacher paused at the sight before him; Daniel was in Phantom form, lying on the couch and weakly tugging gloves back over trembling fingers. In the wheelchair, Steph… Steph was moving, clenching and unclenching her fists as she stretched her legs out in front of her.

It suddenly made sense.

Lurching forwards, William enveloped his daughter in a hug, and in one glorious, impossible movement, she returned the gesture.

His breath caught, and Lancer realised that he was sobbing into his daughter's hair, tears flowing freely as he held onto her as though she would disappear if he let go.

They broke apart at a flash of light, and Steph sat back on the carpet as Lancer reached for the human form of Daniel Fenton that currently crouched on the couch, eyes closed and panting in exhaustion. The boy let out a surprised squawk at the sudden contact, but resigned himself to the hug as Lancer dissolved into hysterics. "Thank you," the teacher wailed, "thank you so much!"

Danny squirmed in the man's arms, phasing out when he became too uncomfortable. "It's no big deal," the boy insisted, rubbing at the back of his neck as a furious blush crept across his face and down beneath his collar.

Steph braced against the arm of the couch, using it to lever herself to her feet, an activity that she had thought she would never perform again. She hugged him with considerably less ferocity than her father, but held onto the boy for a longer period of time. Danny allowed himself to be held, stroking the woman's hair as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"There's no need to thank me," the teen insisted. "You might want to go see a doctor tomorrow, though – you're going to need rehab to get your muscles back to normal, since you haven't used them in so long. Don't move around too much until you go to the hospital, okay? This healing is permanent, and your spine's back in perfect condition – no scarring or anything."

"You seem used to giving this little speech," Lancer whispered as he once again hugged his daughter, as if to reassure himself that this was actually happening.

Danny raised one shoulder and lowered the other in a noncommittal movement. "I vary the different people that I visit," he confessed. "Two weeks ago it was a teenager with terminal cancer, and three weeks before that it was a child born blind and deaf. I only have enough strength to heal one person every fortnight or so, but I do what I can."

Lancer nodded, deciding not to press the halfa. He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. "Well, I think that this calls for a celebration. I don't have any cake, and I'm not about to give you alcohol, Daniel. How about we sit down to some brownies and ice cream?"

In the end, Danny collapsed from exhaustion as they washed the dishes after the impromptu dessert. Lancer carried him to the guest bedroom, laying the fully clothed teen on the bed and simply throwing a blanket over him.

Danny emerged from his morning shower just in time to witness Steph's carer leap around the kitchen, squealing in joy for the miraculously healed girl. He sent the stranger a wary smile, accepting a bowl of steaming porridge from Lancer and fleeing to the solitude and relative quiet of the living room. The teacher joined him shortly afterwards, leaving Steph and her now former carer to converse excitedly over breakfast.

Danny smiled lazily. "This is the best bit," he confessed. "I often go invisible to check over them for a few days after the healing. I love seeing the positive impact."

Lancer clapped a hand to the boy's shoulder. "And you still think that your parents won't be proud?"

Danny stiffened. "Mr Lancer –"

"I took today off for two reasons. This afternoon, I've scheduled an appointment with Steph's doctor. But this morning we're going to visit your parents."

The ghost child shuddered. "What do I say to them?" he whimpered.

Lancer shrugged. "Just tell them the truth. They definitely deserve to know, and I don't like to think how worried they must have been last night when you didn't come home. I was going to ask that you call them, but I think we all got a bit distracted."

"But what if –"

"If it goes drastically wrong, I'll always have the spare room open for you."

Danny's mouth jerked in something that was probably supposed to be a smile. "Can you come with me?" he breathed.

Lancer paused, feeling his heart clench at the lost look that had overtaken his student's features. "I promised that I'd help you in whatever way you needed," he reminded the boy.

Danny nodded curtly. "Thanks. But… can we go now, please? Before I freak out too much?"

He was shaking already.

"They'll always love you," Lancer promised, briefly giving Danny a one-armed hug before taking their plates to the kitchen.

They were sitting in the FentonWorks driveway within twenty minutes. Danny moved mechanically, jerkily getting out of the car and leading the way to the front door. His feet dragged on every step, and the boy stood on the top one, his finger hovering over the button for the doorbell.

Lancer placed a hand on his shoulder. "Daniel, calm down. It's your home, remember? You don't need to ring the bell."

"R-right." Danny opened the door, stepping into the living space with a visible shudder; ominous whirring sounds drifted up the staircase leading down to the lab, orange light flickering through the gap in the half-open steel door. Lancer followed, closing the front door behind him as Danny situated himself in the middle of the foyer. "Mum, Dad, I'm home!" he called in a shaking voice.

The sounds beneath them abruptly ceased, and footsteps thundered up metal steps. The biohazard door was thrown fully open, and Jack Fenton pulled his son into a tight embrace, letting loose a sound strangely similar to a sob.

"Danny-boy, where have you been?" he demanded. The man's voice held no strength; it was weak, defeated, and broke on the last word. "We've been so worried!"

The halfa's shoulders crept towards his ears. "W-we need to talk," he rasped. "Where's Mum?"

Jack jerked his head in the direction of upstairs. "She went to have a shower. We were going to wait until school started, and if you didn't turn up there, we were going to find the boo-merang." The large man focused his attention on Lancer. "Thank you for bringing him home, but we have to have a family conversation now."

Danny swallowed thickly. "Lancer stays," he announced. Jack turned sad eyes towards his son, and the halfa continued, shoving trembling hands into his pockets. "No weapons, okay? We… c-can we all just sit and talk, with no weapons for once?"

The hunter nodded slowly. "I guess we owe it to you," he responded quietly, unclipping his utility belt and beginning to relieve himself of any hidden weapons, placing them gently in a basket situated beside the lab door.

Danny tensed at this sentence, any hope that his parents hadn't figured it out dashed by those simple words. It didn't help that Jack kept glancing at him, hopelessness evident on the large man's face.

"Danny?" The voice from the stairs was achingly familiar, and Danny turned towards his mother. She stood on one of the final steps, auburn locks frizzy with their dampness. The expression on her face wavered before finally settling into one of relief, and the woman crossed the floor to reach her son.

She walked as if she trod on glass, gaze raking over Danny's rumpled and stained clothing.

Danny moved to meet her, allowing himself to be drawn into a gentle hug. "You've been out all night," she whispered.

Danny shrugged. "Yeah, I kinda noticed. I just needed some time…"

She pulled away, running fingers softly through his hair. "I know."

The halfa's eyes slid to the holster strapped to her hip. "Can we please do this without any weapons?"

Maddie seemed to deflate, her back losing its posture as she slumped in defeat. "Sure, Sweetie."

Once the two hunters had relieved themselves of their personal arsenals, Danny led the way to the couch, seating himself between his parents as Lancer perched on the edge of the armchair. The halfa was trembling, and Jack placed a reassuring arm around his shoulders. The room was silent, that taut type of silence that felt like it would rear up and slice them to pieces if broken.

"How much do you know?" Danny whispered, forcing the words out as though they were trying to choke him.

Maddie placed a hand on his knee. "Not much," she confessed. "You got the ghost flu, and I found that security tape of the accident under your bed. Everything just sort of… fell into place after that."

"Mum –"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it was, hunting ghosts on your own like that?" Jack cried. "Hybrid or not, you must have been seriously hurt!"

Danny glanced down at his shirt, flinching when he realised that it still bore the telltale signs of his fight with Skulker the previous evening. He licked his lips before taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't just use my powers to fight ghosts," he offered weakly, and reached over to run the tip of his finger across a cut on Jack's jaw.

The area sparked, enveloped in white light for a handful of heartbeats. When Danny drew his hand away, the mark was gone, and green flickered through his cerulean irises in tiny bolts of lightning. Danny continued his sentence as though uninterrupted, "but Mr Lancer can tell you more about that."

The teacher smiled sheepishly as the hunters turned to face him. "Daniel, I think that it would be best to show them first. We can talk all you want afterwards, but…" he didn't have to finish; Danny gave a nod of understanding, getting shakily to his feet.

The halfa seemed to contemplate something, his lips twisting momentarily in what looked to be amusement. "Going ghost," he whispered, and the room was illuminated by a flash of brilliant white.

Okay, now it's done.

Thank you all for reading, and especially for your faves and reviews!