Chapter 5:

Hal: Crashing a party because both of us are bored?

Dan: right right how did you get invited to this? Cuz it's not crashing a party if you were invited?

Hal: Oh it is crashing the party because there's somebody there who doesn't know that I'm coming. I can't wait to see his face when he sees both of us there.

Dan: Someone I know?

Hal: Yep!

Dan: Gonna to tell me who?

Hal: Now where's the fun in that?

Dan: Fair enough. So how exactly did you get invited to this?

Hal: I am really good at my job.

Dan: That's not sketchy as hell.

Hal: It's an aviation ball.

Dan: Ah that makes more sense.

Hal: What? The giant global in the hallway didn't tip you off?

Dan: Honestly? No. It could have been the United Nations or something for NASA? Hell somebody could have been just ego-centric as hell and made an international party. I'm pretty sure we know several people who would do that.

Hal: Ah— okay valid point.

Dan: At least we didn't have to dress up.

Hal: of course not you're my plus one and I'm not dressing up. Plus it's not like really investors or whatever.

Dan: Investors? Fuck.

Hal: What? Crap did you figure out who we going to see?

Dan: No but I already know somebody because I can never fucking avoid him.

Vlad: Dante!

Dan: Please. Die.

Vlad: That is no way to talk to me.

Hal: Eh? Who?

Vlad: Ah where are my manners? Vladimir Masters.

Hal: Wait, Masters?!

Vlad: the one and only!

Dan: Hal do not feed into his ego.

Vlad: Always so easy to condemn me.

Dan: Remember that the only reason you're still alive is because my sister.

Hal: Huh?!

Dan: Ill explain Later.

Vlad: Quite presumptuous. She's a good girl and respectfully you're not the only one that wants to keep her alive.

Dan: You are a bastard and I hope you fall into a vat of acid within the next 24 hours.

Bruce: well I wasn't expecting that?

Hal: Ey! Brucie! Save me

Bruce: Hal, Dante, Vlad..

Vlad: Ah Bruce Wayne! I didn't know you knew my s—

Dan: Please remember I know where you sleep at night.

Vlad: Always so aggressive. Kids. Am I right?

Hal: Wait.. your his?

Dan: Not by choice. Not even remotely close by choice.

Vlad: Ha. So he says. The little badger should be here somewhere excuse me I have to go find my heir.

Dan: Fuck you.

Hal: Explanation please?

Bruce: Dante, are you being blackmail?

Dan: Long story short? Yes. He likes keeping me on a metaphorical leash. To know when surprised he's always with one of my kid siblings.

Hal: Why didn't you tell us?

Dan: How the fuck am I supposed to explain that? You both know that I am not exactly...human. Well neither is he. By no means are either of my siblings but me and the kid can't do anything because our little sister is trapped somewhere. Even worse just a bomb attached to her head. He is a sadistic fucker.

Hal: Bruce? Didn't we agree that he technically falls under my jurisdiction?

Bruce: Yes?

Hal: So that wouldn't also include evil Maniac over there?

Bruce: Whatever plan you may have I will distract. Any bats and birds would love to assist as well.

Dan: Wait what?

Hal: We are doing a jailbreak babe.

Dan: WHAT?!

Danny: Hm? Hello?

Dan: Oh hey.

Hal: Oh! Wow you guys look almost identical if not for the height difference.

Danny: Friends of yours?

Dan: Something like that. You okay?

Danny: Tired. Heard something something jail break?

Dan: Of course you did as if there's anything else in your mind but chaos. Bruce, this is my little brother. If you want to distract, take him with you. He can very easily slip away from Vlad.

Danny: Tis why I am here. He thinks I'm downstairs. Good seeing you Tay.

Dan: Yeah yeah get going.

Hal: Damn good kid.

Dan: Pretty much. So what's your plan?

Phantom: Yes?

Robin: Don't go around singing. I really don't want your siren song messing with the team, you understand right?

Phantom: Oh, sure, of course.

Robin: Thanks for understanding! *tries to pat Phantom's shoulder but his hand goes straight through* Oh, woops didn't realise you weren't solid. Anyway, let's get back to the rest of the team.

Phantom: Sure.

*two weeks later*

Aqualad: *storms into Titan's Tower and drags Robin into a private meeting* What the heck is wrong with you?

Robin: What do you mean? Also, ow.

Aqualad: You told Phantom not to sing!

Robin: Oh, yeah of course I did. I didn't want him to accidentally ensnare the rest of the team. A harem situation is the last thing this tower need, intentionally or not.

Aqualad: Siren's don't always work like that, Robin, especially adolescents! Da-Phantom's songs are almost entirely hypnotic, and cause confusion! He's still a guppy! An older guppy, sure, but that just means he also has complete control over his song! He could sing and it could effect nothing for Poseidon's sake!

Robin: O-Oh.

Aqualad: What you said was so incredibly offensive, do you realize that? Chalking up a Siren song as something purely preditory? Its instinct, it ingrained in him as much as breathing is for you and me. Even if it weren't, would you tell Raven or Starfire not to use their abilities because Demons and Aliens try to take over the world occasionally?

Robin: No, of course not.

Aqualad: Well this is basically the same thing. You need to give Phantom an apology, and maybe ask Aquaman for a lesson in Sirens if Phantom won't give you one.

Robin: You're right, I made assumptions and I am sorry. I'll pull Phantom aside later.

Aquaman: Thank you for being understanding. I hope I don't have to come in here like this again.

*in the hallway*

Phantom: Aqualad! You're here!

Aqualad: Hey guppy. *pats Phantom affectionally on the back*

Phantom: *core purrs before tapering off when he sees Robin, and Phantom seems to deflate a bit.* Oh, hello Robin.

Robin: Ah Phantom, about you singing-

Phantom: I haven't been, like you said, promise.

Robin: I-I know and I need to tell you that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask you not to express yourself, or your instincts. Its not an excuse, but I had no clue how important singing would be for you.

Phantom: Really? You won't be angry then?

Robin, wincing: No. I'm so sorry, I'll be talking to Aquaman about understanding Siren's more, something I should have done from the beginning. I hope you can forgive me sometime in the future.

Phantom: It-It might take a bit of time. *winces as if he feels guilty but Aqualad pats his shoulder in encouragement* Normally, people have issues with me being a ghost, so when you didn't blink an eye at it, I got excited thinking I was fully accepted, but then you shut down a part of me that makes me a Siren too and I just, it made me sad and kind of angry.

Robin: I'm sorry.

Phantom: Thank you for apologizing, most people don't. I hope we can be friends when I forgive you in the future?

Blood gets everywhere.

She was too used to the texture of ectoplasm, which was much more viscous and had a fuzzy quality to it that could not be replicated by any other substance.

She had not realised the blood would splatter like that.

It's on her arms, on her face, in her hair. Warm and sticky. Red. Nothing like the cold, neon green she is too familiar with.

"I didn't mean…" she mumbles, and stares at Danny, who is looking at her, horrified.

Jazz had only wanted to stop her mother from sawing into her little brother. She had yanked too hard on the electric bone saw and…

Danny is still muzzled. Ectoplasm still drips from the operating table on which he's been pinned and cut open like a dissection frog—

She only wanted to save her little brother, and now both of her parents are dead.

Her father had come running at the noise, only to freeze at the gruesome sight that awaited him. It only lasted a handful of seconds before he roared something about Phantom being responsible and—

The bone saw was still in her hands, then.

Jazz chokes down a sob.

She lets the… the murder weapon fall from her hands and clatter to the floor and she hurriedly unclasps the muzzle on her little brother's face.

He whines, staring at her unblinkingly. His blue eyes are red-rimmed and wide in terror and incomprehension.

(He had transformed back. That had not stopped them. He still bled ectoplasm after all. That was enough for them.)

"Jazz…?" he calls out, like he can't believe what's in front of his eyes.

"You're safe now, little brother. They will never hurt you again," she murmurs. "I'm— I didn't mean to, but…" She swallows thickly. Her hands tremble on his cheeks. "They'll never hurt you again," she repeats, a tear slipping from her eye.

Danny's left hand moved weakly, as if trying to reach her and wipe her tears, but he is still shackled to the table. The movement seems to take a lot out of him.

It spurs her on; she undoes his binds as quickly and carefully as she can.

"Jazz, it hurts," he murmurs.

She makes humming sounds to try and soothe him. It is the closest approximation she has managed to what his core sounded like when he tried to appease her when she was stressed. It settles him, but he is still in pain.

"I know, little brother, I know. It will be over soon."

She only needs to stitch him up and call Sam and Tucker. They can take him to the Far Frozen.

(She ignores the part of her that is protesting at the idea. They'll see, her inner voice hisses. She shushes it. Her priority is Danny, now more than ever.

… He is all she has left.)

The GIW will blame Phantom for this too, she thinks bleakly as she fetches a needle and some ecto-resistant thread.

She can already see the fall-out in her mind's eye.

The Justice League were finally taking an interest in the situation in Amity Park and talks had started to repeal the laws that deny ectoplasmic beings their rights. The financial backers of the GIW have blocked them at every turn — too desirous to get their hands on the limitless energy source Vlad promised them when he launched the organisation.

Things have been tense in Amity because of it. An increased presence from the white suits in the city had made everyone nervous, especially since they seemed so determined to capture Danny.

That is how he was caught in the end: in a crossfire between his parents, a rogue ghost and the GIW, Phantom had prioritised getting Ember out of the situation over his own safety.

Her little brother was too much of a hero to do anything but.

And that will cost him his future if she doesn't turn herself in. If she doesn't own up to her actions, they will put the blame on him.

They might still do it anyway.

"We need to run," he tells her, seemingly realising now the implications of what she has just done. "The Zone— if we close the portal behind us—"

"I can't survive there long term, Danny, you know that," she tells him softly.

"Then I'll go. Say I did it," he pleads. "I'll keep the ghosts on the other side of the portal, I'll—"

She shakes her head.

"No, little brother. We're so close to getting these laws repealed." She breathes out slowly. "I'll turn myself in."

Danny begs and pleads. It does not move her. By the time Sam and Tucker arrive, he has gone silent. He does not protest when they take him through the portal, leaving his sister behind.

He knows he is too weak to stop her.

Weeks later, they meet again, separated by a glass pane.

Jazz picks up the phone and murmurs, "Hey."

"Hi Jazz," comes the answer, just as subdued.

They stare at each other. After a beat of silence, Jazz speaks.

"Do you hate me?" she asks, her voice small. "I killed Mom and Dad."

"Do you? It's my fault this happened."

She shakes her head. "It's their fault."

"It is. So why would I blame you?"

Danny's eyes sting, but he does not cry.

He sits on the asphalt in front of the prison his sister is meant to spent decades in, holding his head in his hands.

he bounces around from universe to universe making graves for the dead and putting them to rest. hes not king in this, he just knows how it feels to be without a place to put his bones

danny, of course, carries his own with him, so he is, essentially, his own grave, and its... unsettling. gives him the ghost version of adhd, makes it impossible to take 'settle down.'

and he could technically solve that with a headstone but... well. graves are supposed to be made FOR you. even if youre paying someone or the government is putting you in an incinerator or whatever else is arranged by your family, its supposed to be a mark of affection, of belonging.

Danny died but nobody noticed. Danny left home and nobody cared. Danny left the UNIVERSE, and nobody looked for him.

they call, yeah, and theyre all friends still, but some part of danny feels so distant. he loves his family. he loves his friends. but sometimes he cant help but wonder how much easier their lives are without him. how much safer. if they ever think back on their wild high school years and feel relief that hes not around to mess things up anymore.

so he keeps moving, long beyond the time it starts to feel like running.

and he carves and carves and carves

An Angela here, a Jeoffery there. A Dua and a Haoyu and a Peter. A Zitkala and an Assol and an Ahsan. A Kleio and a Fabian and a Bluebell and so many more he can't remember them all.

It takes longer than he wishes it had for him to start writing their names down in a little book he tucks close to his heart.

He goes to mass graves that makes his stomach roll and his ears ring from how many voices cry out to him, and spends weeks carving name after name into rocks he digs up and places like sentinels around every sliver of bone.

He goes to cities and engraves plaques and nails them to brick walls.

He finds himself in ruins and plains and icy cracks and the bottom of the sea.

His markers won't last forever, he knows. But they don't need to. The dead are, in many ways, similar to the living. They want to be heard, known, cherished. It doesn't matter if it's for a lifetime or a moment.

Danny can give them that moment. For many, it's enough to settle their clamoring and usher them gently on. So Danny keeps doing it, because it feels good, offering people this measure of peace. It feels good, to help without fighting.

eventually, he makes his way to a city called Gotham. He finds many, many unknown dead there. Restless dead. Violent dead.

Español:

La Liga de la Justicia intentaba impedir que un grupo de sectarios invocara a una entidad suprema; Constantine afirmó que, si lograban invocar al Gran Rey de los Reinos Infinitos —conocido como un tirano sediento de conquistas—, sería el fin para ellos y para su mundo.

Por desgracia, los sectarios fueron rápidos; terminaron sus cánticos antes de que se pudiera hacer nada. Constantine maldijo cuando todas las velas del lugar se apagaron, sumiendo la estancia en una oscuridad total, solo para volver a encenderse con una antinatural llama verde; aquello provocó que se abriera un portal de absoluta oscuridad en el suelo y surgiera una figura imponente, coronada de fuego y ataviada con calaveras, ofreciendo un espectáculo verdaderamente aterrador e intimidante.

Si no fuera porque él era quien mostraba una expresión de absoluto horror —sosteniendo una pequeña taza de té, ataviado con una armadura que parecía hecha de cartón y cubierto de garabatos de estrellas y cometas por todo el traje y el rostro...

La gran mayoría de sectarios y heroes con hijos lo entendieron al instante...

"Estabas... Pasando el tiempo con tus hijos... "

Pariah simplemente evalúa al héroe —Superman—, no con ira ni furia, sino con una expresión de profundo cansancio con la que el Hombre de Acero, curiosamente, podía identificarse.

"Estaba pasando el tiempo con mis hijos... Después de terminar con un sinfín de trabajo atrasado, y de compensar el daño que había causado durante mi locura... "

Todos los padres del lugar hicieron una mueca, casi como si sintieran su dolor.

"Uff, hombre, lo siento mucho. "

Esta vez fue Flash el que hablo, incomodó ante como se desarrolló toda la situación.

"¿quieres... Que te regresemos?"

Pariah lo mido, no dijo absolutamente nada por cinco segundo, y luego asintió con un suspiró de cansancio.

"Si... Eso seria bueno..."

―――

King of the Infinite Realms, The Great Tyrant, Ancient of Destruction, and Weary Father...

English:

The Justice League was trying to stop a group of cultists from summoning a supreme entity; Constantine said that if they succeeded in summoning the Great King of the Infinite Realms—known as a tyrant with a thirst for conquest—it would be the end for them and their world.

Unfortunately, the cultists were quick; they finished their chants before anything could be done. Constantine cursed as every candle in the place went out, plunging the room into total darkness—only for them to flare back to life with an unnatural green flame, causing a portal of absolute darkness to open in the floor and an imposing figure to emerge, crowned in fire and clad in skulls, creating a truly terrifying and intimidating sight.

If not for the fact that he was the one wearing an expression of absolute horror—holding a small teacup, clad in armor that looked like it was made of cardboard, and covered in scribbles of stars and comets across his costume and face...

The vast majority of cultists and heroes with children understood it instantly...

"You were... spending time with your children..."

Pariah simply sizes up the hero—Superman—not with anger or rage, but with an expression of utter weariness that the Man of Steel could strangely relate to.

"I was spending time with my children... After finishing a mountain of overdue work, and making amends for the damage I had caused during my madness..."

All the local parents room, almost as if they felt his pain.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry. "

This time it was Flash who spoke, uncomfortable with how the whole situation had unfolded.

"Do you want... us to bring you back?"

Pariah sized up; he said absolutely nothing for five seconds, then nodded with a weary sigh.

Yellow-rumped Marshbird (Pseudoleistes guirahuro), family Icteridae, order Passeriformes, found in Argentina, Brazil, Paraguay, and Uruguay

Yellow-rumped Marshbird (Pseudoleistes guirahuro), family Icteridae, order Passeriformes, found in Argentina, Brazil, Paraguay, and Uruguay

After being seen doing something supernatural one too many times, Danny concocts a story to hide the fact that he has ghost powers without just denying the existence of his ability to do weird stuff. He claims to be learning magic, inspired by stories of his Witchhunter ancestors and the incredible displays of power showcased by the likes of Doctor Fate, Shazam, and Zatanna.

It works pretty well, with him becoming known as a necromancer who specialized in banishing spirits and as a cryomancer capable of grand displays of raw cold generation. He even becomes so well known that when some people outside Amity Park find themselves in need of someone to cleanse some lingering spirits and cursed energy, they call Fentonworks with the intent to hire Danny to deal with it.

It's common enough that young black kids are told to keep any identifying information on them at all times just in case someone reports a black kid breaking and entering by walking into the house they've lived at since they were born. Because that has happened.

When you add mental illness and the healthcare industry into the mix, things only get worse from there. To be clear, you don't need to be black or mentally ill to be treated poorly by a doctor or nurse that's decided they know you better than you do. But it sure doesn't make things easier.

And people have died as a result- or have we already forgotten the death of Adriana Smith who went to THE HOSPITAL SHE WORKED AT AS A NURSE reporting severe headaches and was dismissed as exaggerating and imagining the severity, only to be declared brain dead upon arrival less than 24 hours later and artificially kept alive to force her dead body to carry her baby to term- which couldn't even happen and they had to remove him via C-section anyway.

At which point they will find an ovarian cyst, but they now get whatever fucked up satisfaction they derive out of proving you wrong, because you didn't believe it could a cyst at all, but guess what? They did find a cyst! It's such a good thing you didn't listen to your intuition and came to them to verify your lay diagnosis from that third party! Bonus? Doctor doesn't have to feel like they look stupid in front of a patient, which is really what all this is about. Not your health, why would you think your medical diagnosis is about your health? It's obviously about a doctor's potential ego.

And apparently this works. Apparently you just need to be able to always play 4D chess with your medical professionals in order to find an avenue of advocating for yourself and getting you medical needs met. Isn't that great?