always writing

/Head Canon Time!

⚠︎ ⚡︎

Okay, so. The interior buttons were placed there as a safety mechanism, at least, that was the intention? The portal required a manual activation from inside the chamber to stabilize the energy field during ignition.

Jack and Maddie had never been able to fully activate the portal because the system required a biological energy signature to complete the dimensional bridge. Their calculations assumed external power would be enough, but the portal needed something else , such as a living bioelectric catalyst.

Human bodies generate measurable electrical fields through neural activity and cardiac rhythm and cellular ion exchange. In theory, this bioelectric energy could interact with the portal’s ectoplasmic field.

When Danny pressed the button, the system finally found the missing variable.

And the portal roared to life.

Electricity didn’t simply travel through him like a conventional shock. Instead, the portal field interacted with his bioelectric field at the molecular level, saturating his body with ectoplasmic radiation. It’s similar to how ionizing radiation can alter cellular structures, but far more extreme.

A hazmat suit could protect against chemical exposure or standard radiation, but not against the dimensional energy coupling directly with biological matter. The reaction wasn’t conducted through the glove or the boots or the floor or the air.

It happened inside him.

The portal functioned less like a doorway and more like a particle accelerator attempting to stabilize a wormhole, using Danny’s bioelectric field as the final stabilizing component.

His atoms weren’t destroyed, they were reconfigured, molecules rearranged, temporarily existing in two energetic states at once. Human and ghost.

But for Danny, it felt like he was being torn apart atom by atom, stretched thin like matter falling into a black hole, being completely spaghettified, his body being pulled in all directions like it was never meant to go.

The agony of electricity and cold fire soared through him, like millions of needles forcing their way through skin and muscle and bone all at once. His nerves screamed as if they were being stripped bare, taken out and pushed back in place, every cell vibrating and splitting and reforming in a rhythm too violent to even survive. But he did survive. Didn’t he?

There was no way he could’ve stepped out of the portal on his own without collapsing, without his body revolting against what had just been done to it. Every nerve should have been in overload, every muscle refusing to respond. He should’ve dropped right there on the floor, unconscious and unmoving, while the smoke curled from his skin.

Someone should’ve had to drag him out. Right?

And when he finally woke up completely disoriented and wrong and no longer entirely human, nausea should’ve hit him. The shock alone should’ve kept him trembling and barely conscious. Instead, he just… stood there lol.

“When he first woke up, he realize… he had snow white hair and glowing green eyes.”

Because it is a cartoon. Because reality had to bend around the moment, y’know?

(Memory Blank is different than the intro though lmao)

"What kind of activity did you pick up on? Was a ghost sensor tripped?"

"No. It's some kind of distress signal. But all that's included is an audio file."

A sound started playing over the phone, a horrible howling shriek with several shimmery tones overlaying in eerie dissonance. Danny squinted and gritted his teeth as the sound grated on his nerves.

"Sure sounds like a ghost," said Danny once the sound stopped.

"A real spooky one," said Tucker.

"All right, I'll go check it out."

"Sorry I can't join you, dude."

"Don't worry about it. How's your ankle doing, by the way?"

"Still twisted. Have I ever told you that PE is my least favorite class?"

"Many times."

"And Sam has to help take care of her sick grandma, so you really are on your own."

"I can handle it."

"Okay, but if you run into any trouble, call me. I'll find a way to sneak out."

"Sure thing. Night, Tuck."

Twenty minutes later, Danny landed in his ghost form on the tile floor of a dark corridor in Axion Labs. He scanned the area, at the doors lining the walls stretching in both directions. He exhaled but his breath did not condense.

No ghost around here.

He floated down the corridor, turned the corner, continued on through the empty halls. Small incandescent fixtures cast minimal spots of light onto the floor every ten feet or so, creating strange shadows on the walls. Danny watched his breath and waited for the telltale shivering that would vibrate his entire body.

But it never happened.

He stopped under a light fixture, his shadow pooling underneath him on the floor. He scratched his head and wondered if he needed to go through any of the doors or walls. Perhaps this ghost was hiding somewhere deep inside the building.

"Danny Phantom," called a deep voice that made Danny jump. He whirled around and spotted a shadowy figure about twenty feet away. The figure was not standing under any of the light fixtures and so Danny could not see him, but his ghost sense did not go off. Danny figured it had to be an employee, some kind of security guard on night duty.

"Sir, it's not safe to be here right now," said Danny, trying to sound authoritative. "There's a ghost somewhere in this facility."

"I know," said the figure. "I'm looking at him."

The figure's tone was dark, spiteful. Danny frowned, unsure if the hostility was intentional or not.

"I mean a ghost other than me," said Danny. "A dangerous one. I think your ghost shield here must be malfunctioning, that's why it was able to get through." He paused. "And why I was able to get through as well."

"No. It's not malfunctioning," said the figure. "I turned it off."

Danny's frown deepened. The figure started coming closer, his bulky build and glasses illuminated by one of the ceiling light fixtures. He stopped when he was fully under the light and Danny stared at the man, recognizing him immediately: Damon Gray, Valerie's father.

"Mr. Gray," murmured Danny, bewildered but also uneasy.

"You know me?" said Damon gruffly, mouth partially obscured by his thick mustache.

"I know your daughter," said Danny.

"That's right. You do know my daughter. You know that she's a ghost hunter now. You know that she goes out almost every night hunting ghosts."

Danny kept a straight face and said nothing.

"And you also know that she's a teenage girl," Damon went on. "A kid. In high school. Except she hasn't been in school this week. Do you know why?"

Danny shook his head. "No, sir. I don't."

"Because she's in the hospital." Damon's voice shook. "With a hole blown through her stomach. By a ghost."

Danny's jaw dropped. "Oh—oh, my God. Is she okay?"

"Of course she's not okay, Phantom. She's in the fucking hospital."

"No. I know that." Danny held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I mean—is she going to be okay?"

"Do you care?" asked Damon. "Do you honestly care about her?"

"Yes," said Danny firmly. "I do."

Damon's arms shook as his hands balled up. And then he relaxed and shrugged.

"She's going to be fine," said Damon calmly. "Mayor Masters has graciously agreed to cover all of her medical expenses, and he's made sure she's getting the very best care."

Danny breathed out in relief.

"But that shouldn't have happened." Damon's tone resharpened. "You know that, don't you? She shouldn't be out every night risking her life. A teenage girl should be hanging out with her friends, going to the mall on the weekend, watching football games at school. Her biggest concern should be getting all her homework done on time, not stressing about making enough money at part-time jobs or—or hunting ghosts."

Damon's words came out in a spit, making Danny wince.

"Except she's not just hunting ghosts," said Damon, low and dark. "She's hunting you. You're the one she wants. She's not going to stop until she has you. Until she kills you."

Until she—

Killed him—

The memories flashed. Staring into the barrel of her ecto-gun aimed right at his face, charged and whirring, so close he could feel the buzzing energy sparking on his skin.

Danny's lungs shuddered and he gasped in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry. I really am. I don't want her risking her life either."

Damon glared at him. "Then make her stop."

Danny furrowed his brow.

"Apologize to her." Damon's voice boomed. "Beg for her forgiveness. Get down on your fucking knees if you have to. Convince her you're not her enemy, that she doesn't need to keep hunting you."

Danny sighed and shook his head. "I have tried to apologize to her, sir. So many times."

"Then try harder," spat Damon. "Talk to her. Make her talk to you. Hear her out. Ask her what you can do to earn her forgiveness and do whatever the fuck she says."

Damon paused and his gaze dropped to the floor.

"Please," said Damon, his voice now soft. "You have to make amends with her."

Danny drew his lips in, pressing them together as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"I've been trying to do that since I first cost you your job, sir." Danny's voice creaked and he swallowed again to steady it. "And I really am sorry. I felt horrible. I still do. And I tried to tell Valerie that I didn't mean it—that it was just an accident—but she didn't care."

He inhaled sharply, his hands shaking by his sides.

"And I've tried proving to her that I'm not a bad ghost, that I'm on her side," continued Danny. "I've tried working with her and helping her—but it's never enough. She still hates me. I thought that when you got your job back that everything would be okay again, that maybe she'd stop hating me, but—she still does. And I don't know how to make her stop."

Danny closed his eyes, breathing in deeply to calm the rustling in his chest. When he opened his eyes, Damon was glowering at him, his gaze hard behind his glasses and his lips curling around bared teeth.

"I don't give a fuck about your feelings, Phantom," hissed Damon. "This isn't about you. I don't care that my daughter hates you and it makes you sad."

Damon stepped forward. Danny resisted the impulse to take a step back and stiffened his arms to keep himself steady.

"She almost died, Phantom." Damon took another step forward. "Do you hear me? Do you get that? Because of you, my baby girl nearly lost her life."

Damon jabbed a finger in Danny's direction. He stopped coming forward and was just a few feet away now.

"You," barked Damon. "You started all of this. You are the one who needs to fix it."

Damon lowered his finger and squared his shoulders. Danny's facial muscles twitched as he fought to keep a calm expression.

"I am not giving you a choice here, Phantom." Damon's voice dropped to a booming growl. "This is not a request. This is not a plea. It's not even a demand. This is a threat."

Damon came closer and this time Danny did step back.

"Make amends with her, Phantom. Make her stop hunting ghosts," ordered Damon. "Because if you don't, I will kill you myself."

Danny blinked and tilted his head, not at all sure he had heard that right.

And then Damon's lips spread into a horrible grin that made Danny's stomach churn. And suddenly he was quite certain that he had heard right.

"Where do you think my daughter gets her violent side from? Certainly not her mother." Damon's gaze moved up to the ceiling, his face softening. "No, her mother was an angel. The kindest, gentlest woman to ever grace this earth." He brought his gaze back down to Danny. "Her mother would never hurt a soul. But I would."

He rushed forward again, finger pointed.

"You. I would hurt you. I would kill you. And I will."

Damon managed to thump Danny's chest with his finger. Danny warded him off and stepped out of reach, turning intangible for extra measure. Damon did not attempt to come forward again.

"If it's the only way to make my daughter stop risking her life, I will destroy you."

Danny stared at him, the words barely registering in his befuddled brain.

"You think I can't?" Damon smiled, crooked and menacing. "You think because my daughter hasn't been able to catch you that I won't either? That's because she has too much of her mother's gentle nature in her." He scoffed. "But not me. No. I'm not gentle at all. And if you don't make things right with my girl, you will learn exactly how ruthless and vicious and unrelenting I can be."

His smile dropped, his eyes searing with hatred. Danny's stomach sank.

"This is a warning, Phantom," snarled Damon. "I could've killed you tonight if I wanted to. I could've taken one of my daughter's guns and shot you several times by now."

Damon's arm moved and Danny flinched. He took a step back and raised his hands in defense. Even after he saw that Damon wasn't actually holding an ecto-gun, he did not lower his hands.

"But I decided to give you a chance." Damon held up one finger. "But just this one chance, Phantom. Next time, I will kill you. And you won't be able to hide from me. I will find you again. And it will be easy." He smirked. "I lured you here tonight, after all."

Danny's mouth fell open, his brain sputtering as he processed Damon's words.

"That distress signal," murmured Danny. "You sent that?"

Damon grinned. "That's right."

Danny looked around at the darkened corridor, over his shoulder and then back at Damon. "So there was never a ghost here."

"Not until you showed up. Because you can't resist playing the hero, can you?" Damon sneered. "I turned off the ghost shield just so you could get inside."

Danny's hands reflexively twitched but he resisted the instinct to ball them into fists.

"I disabled all the cameras, too. So no one will ever know about this conversation, Phantom," continued Damon. "Valerie certainly never needs to know about this. You agree with that, don't you?"

Damon tilted his head with faux curiosity. Danny tensed and shivered, picking up on the baleful undertone.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly.

Damon looked off to the side, as if he could see beyond the walls. "She's currently lying in a hospital bed suffering. And you know what she keeps saying to me? 'I need to get better, Daddy. I need to get back out there and destroy all those ghosts.'" He turned back to Danny, his glasses glowing in the dim light. "But that's not going to happen. Because you're going to make amends with her, aren't you, Phantom?"

Danny swallowed. "I will try, Mr. Gray."

Damon shook his head. "That's not good enough. You know it's not. Do it, Phantom."

Danny maintained eye contact but said nothing.

"Or you can just let her kill you already." Damon shrugged. "That's fine with me, too. Whatever it takes to get my daughter to stop risking her life."

He turned and walked away, footsteps echoing down the corridor, his shadow vanishing into the darkness.

Danny staggered backward a couple steps, never looking away from the corridor. Because perhaps Damon secretly did have an ecto-gun, perhaps he was just waiting for Danny to turn his back—

He launched himself off the floor and through the ceiling. No reason to stay here now, no ghost threat to fight off. Just an angry father protecting his daughter, another human that wanted him dead.

That was the deal, right? Phantom handled the superhero stuff. Fenton handled the fun things.

The roar of an engine cut through the air before he could think harder about it. The Specter Speeder screeched beside the rollercoaster tracks.

“Hop aboard, son!” shouted Jack excitedly. Before Fenton could protest, Jack’s huge hand grabbed his arm and yanked him straight out of the cart. “Your old man’s gunna show you how to catch a ghost!”

The Speeder jerked violently as Jack hauled him inside. Fenton barely caught himself against the dashboard before Jack reversed the vehicle to face Sam and Tucker.

“You kids’ll be safer down there!”

Jack shoved the coaster car forward again. It clattered down the rails with screams echoing behind them.

Fenton swallowed. Something about this suddenly didn’t feel funny anymore.

Ahead of them, Phantom flew toward Technus and froze. The Specter Speeder cut directly into his path. Phantom halted so abruptly it looked almost painful. His eyes widened as the massive blaster unfolded from the roof of the vehicle with a mechanical whine. It pointed right at him. At him.

“Dude, uhh…” laughed Fenton nervously. “Dad, I—I don’t know about this.”

The targeting monitor lit up green.

Jack grinned and slid the controls toward him.

“Okay,” he said proudly, like this was some father-son bonding moment. “Now you’re gonna wanna nail him right between the eyes.”

The crosshairs centered on Phantom. He didn’t move. Didn’t dodge. Didn’t fly away. He just stared.

Fenton’s stomach dropped.

“Now waste him!” Jack grabbed his wrist and forced his hand down onto the firing controls. “Take the shot, son! Make your old man proud!”

Phantom’s face filled the monitor. Those green eyes, wide and shocked, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Like he couldn’t believe Fenton and his dad were doing this.

The blast fired anyway. A deafening scream of ecto-energy exploded from the blaster and slammed directly into Phantom. His body jerked violently before dropping from the sky. Smoke curled behind him in thin green trails as he plummeted downward.

“No—” Fenton didn’t even realize he said it aloud.

The Speeder hit the ground hard.

Before Jack fully landed, Fenton threw himself out of the vehicle and ran. His shoes slammed against cracked pavement as panic clawed violently up his throat.

Phantom lay crumpled on the ground. Green ectoplasm leaked beneath him in widening streaks, dripping from his mouth, his nose, even his ears.

Fenton dropped to his knees so hard pain shot through them. His hands shook as he carefully rolled Phantom over and pulled him into his lap. The suit was torn open across the chest. The wound underneath pulsed weakly, unstable, glowing sickly green around blackened edges. Ectoplasm soaked through Fenton’s hands immediately when he pressed against it.

Phantom coughed suddenly. The sound was wet. Broken.

“Dueling—” He coughed harder, green splattering across his chin. “Doppelgangers… Have—have you lost half of—of our mind…?”

Fenton choked on a laugh that came out sounding dangerously close to a sob.

“Dude,” he whispered shakily. “I’m not the one wearing a bedsheet.”

Phantom smiled. Weak and crooked and exhausted. His trembling hand lifted and grabbed onto Fenton’s sleeve, fingers barely squeezing.

Fenton swallowed hard around the burning in his throat.

“When Dad asks why I’ve got green ectoplasm all over my clothes,” he muttered quickly. “I am so not covering for you.”

If he kept joking maybe this wouldn’t be real. Maybe Phantom wouldn’t feel so heavy in his arms. Maybe that horrible dimming glow around him would stop fading.

Phantom looked up at him slowly.

Fenton moved a hand behind his head carefully, supporting him.

“And that’s…” Phantom coughed violently again, his body twitching and trembling weakly against him. “…the sort of irresponsible attitude… that makes you such a disappointment to our family.”

“Not our family,” said Fenton immediately, his voice cracking. “My family. You’re the full time superhero, remember?”

Phantom’s eyes fluttered. The glow around his ghostly body flickered weaker.

“Then…” Another painful cough. “…it’s time for me to let go.”

“No.”

Phantom’s eyes closed. His aura dimmed. And suddenly he felt wrong. Heavy. Not floating anymore. Dead weight.

“No no no no—”

Fenton grabbed him harder, shaking him carefully.

“Phantom.”

Nothing.

“Hey. Dude.”

No response.

The panic fully broke through him, sharp and cold and unbearable.

“Stay with me,” he whispered desperately. “Come on. Come on, this isn’t funny anymore.”

Still nothing.

“You’re not supposed to die. You cannot die. You’re—“

He paused.

“—you’re already a ghost.”

But there was no response.

The silence crushed him.

Jack was saying something behind him. Technus was probably still attacking. None of it mattered. Because Phantom wasn’t moving.

Fenton stared down at the ghost in his arms, at the green blood oozing out of his chest, at the face that looked so painfully familiar even when unconscious.

But he understood exactly what he had done.

His bottom lip trembled violently.