#dp-marvel94

The clone he had been offered didn’t have any of this. He hadn’t considered what it did and did not have, as desperate as he was to get out of the Plasmius shaped refuge he had been given. The clone had been a husk, a puppet that he was easily able to take over. There was no soul to overpower into letting him stay, there was no core to meld into his own, there was no mind to suppress. Vlad had said it was the most stable, but unfinished of the clones with DNA structures identical to those of Danny’s. It restored his ability to return to a human form, a form he had deliberately thrown away a decade ago (had it even mattered? If he was still feeling it all anyways? Was he ever free of those awful emotions he sacrificed his humanity for?). Vlad hadn’t implanted an artificial ectoplasmic core yet, leaving enough room for Phantom to swoop in and wear the creepy thing like a second skin. Not perfect, but as long as it kept him from being torn apart by the timestream, it would do.

The first thing he noticed when entering the clone is just how quiet it was. With no other soul fighting for control, he had the freedom to float inside peacefully, feeling as weightless as if he was in space. He remained in the stasis tube for a couple of weeks as Vlad did vital checks and ectoplasmic analysis to ensure his stability post merge. Phantom didn’t know who this Danielle was, but based on what he was hearing he didn’t want to end up like her. Besides, the methodic bubbling of the oxygen mask in the otherwise stagnant blue liquid was hypnotizing. He doesn’t remember much of those two weeks.

“Ancients, Daniel - Breathe!” 

It takes far more effort than he would ever admit to remember how to work human lungs. Vlad has to repeat the instructions like a mantra to Phantom as he leans against him, globs of stasis fluid dripping off him and soaking the man’s white lab coat a pale blue. His eyes are blurry, his chest is heaving, cold air filling a gaping mouth far too quickly as his shaking legs are assaulted by agonizing pins and needles.

Endless sounds pierce his ears. The beeping of machinery, Vlad’s voice both from his mouth and rumbling from his chest, his own ragged grunts and groans.. 

In a way, it feels like he’s dying again.

But Vlad gets him onto an examination table, and continues to murmur reminders to breathe as he uses a warm washcloth to wipe away the goo that has left him shivering. Part of Phantom tries to rip away from the clone he inhabits, anything to be rid of the horrid feelings tied to being alive, but the more logical part of his brain remembers how it felt to be without a stable host. Clockwork wouldn’t save him if he was ripped apart by the timestream.

He lets Vlad clean him off, focuses on moving air into his nose and out his mouth, and eventually wakes up in a warm bed.

He has a lot to relearn about being human. Breathing gets easier over time, the clone’s human instinct coming in most of the time. There are moments where he has to remind himself that he needs oxygen, usually only realizing it once black spots start to creep up at the edges of his vision. Moving is also something that feels foreign and unreasonably difficult. He is used to the near weightlessness that a ghost has, but as a human he feels like he is constantly being squished under an invisible weight. His limbs feel too small, and every time he tries to stand he almost falls. Vlad is there most of the time to catch him, or pick him up off the ground in his more embarrassing moments. Luckily, it only takes about a week for him to get a hang of his new (old?) body, and he isn’t tripping over every dust bunny. Vlad still watches him like a hawk.

Hunger and thirst are the next feelings he has to get used to again. He assumes the clone was getting some form of nutrients from inside the tube, as the first feelings only truly hit him nearly five days after being out of stasis. He thinks the clone has destabilized when his stomach aches for the first time, Vlad rushing to his side only to hear the growling of his stomach rather than the sizzling of melting ectoplasm. He sits Phantom down at the dining room table then, and presents him with a warm meal and a large glass of water. He manages the silverware decently enough, elbows leaning heavily on the tabletop, but his atrophied arms fail him in picking up the water. His shirt is soaked before he realizes, and his ears buzz with how hard he clenches his jaw. Rage (embarrassment?) threatens to blur his vision further before Vlad is kneeling on the ground beside him with a napkin in hand, helping him dry off.

There is a silent agreement between the two of them, one that they came to during their short stint sharing the same body. One of new beginnings: Plasmius had referred to it as a second chance. Phantom despised the idea. He already failed his second chance. He didn’t get any more.

Plasmius agonizingly saw past his thick walls, reaching through and yanking him out into the open from his fortress of death and destruction. Grabbed him by the scruff like a newborn kitten and shook him until he had no choice but to at least listen to what he was saying.

“I know this feels demeaning, accepting help from your sworn enemy.”

“You are below me, Plasmius! I overcame you!”

“Except you didn’t, Daniel. I can see every ounce of my phantom inside you. All the pain you’ve been harboring for so long, and all of mine from before. You can say you overcame me when you merged with my ghost half, that your power is greater, but that power is nothing but a farce and we both know it. That power couldn’t get you what you wanted in the end. It couldn’t for either of us.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I don’t. But I am willing to learn, to listen, to be the person I should have been for you in your timeline. I can’t undo your hurt but maybe I can lessen it. Whether you like it or not, we are in this together. We might not like it, it might be mortifying at first, but we will survive. That’s what we’ve always done, isn’t it?”

He and Vlad have regular dinners together after that, and Phantom is given a much smaller cup. 

His powers have been significantly diminished since merging with the clone. Alongside the physical therapy Vlad is helping him stumble through, it seems his ghostly abilities also require a recalibration of sorts. He can’t “go ghost” (what a childish catchphrase, why did he ever say that?) on command and remains stuck in his human form most of the time. He transforms under stress, most commonly finding himself in his ghost form when waking up from a nightmare. Vlad theorizes it’s a source of comfort that Phantom views as a weakness of some kind; Phantom is more annoyed at the fact he has to sleep again. 

---

“Starting Monday you will resume your high school education.” 

Phantom chokes on his bite of overdone steak, gulping down some water and pounding his chest until he stops coughing. “What?”

It’s not often that they talk during their nightly dinners. Vlad attempts to make small conversation, but Phantom rarely takes the bait. He has nothing in particular he wants to discuss with the other man.

“Your education, Daniel.” Phantom can practically hear his fork creak under how hard he’s holding it. He has told Vlad many times not to call him by that name. He abandoned it long ago. Vlad insists it's good to be reminded of his humanity, even if Phantom insists it doesn’t exist anymore. “You never did finish your high school diploma if I’m not mistaken?”

“I’m 24.”

“And what do you have to show for it?” Vlad tuts, shaking his head and folding his hands in a perfectly prissy way. “Besides, you and I both know that ghosts don’t age: mentally or physically. Not on their own, at least. Sure, when you merged with my phantom you most likely adopted a more mature mind, but now that you are in a functionally younger body it wouldn’t be surprising for the younger mind inside you to start making an appearance. If you want to get a second chance at a happy ending, a good education is imperative.”

Phantom bears his teeth at Vlad, wills his eyes to glow a menacing red and growls when he fails. “You can’t make me do anything.” He settles on instead, crossing his arms and slouching in his chair.

“You are technically a minor under my care, Daniel, which means it is my responsibility to ensure you get the required schooling.”

“I will not go back to Casper.” Phantom adds, ignoring the feeling of his gut flipping at the idea of those familiar halls, those familiar faces both nice and aggravating. “Not unless you want it reduced to rubble.” 

“Oh, absolutely not. We wouldn’t be able to explain why there are two Fenton boys running around.” Vlad smiles, one that Phantom remembers meaning the older man was one step ahead of him. “Jasmine has agreed to tutor you.”

Phantom pauses, gears turning as he struggles to comprehend this arrangement. Jasmine. His sister. No, not his sister. His sister was ten years dead and deleted in a nonexistent timeline to boot. Vlad meant this timeline’s Jasmine. The one who knows who he is (did his Jazz know too, that early?). 

“No.” He spits, pushing his chair from the table with only a little difficulty. He throws his napkin on the table and turns to head back to his room. 

“She’ll be here at 6 p.m. this upcoming Monday. I’ll be monitoring the first few sessions to ensure you behave yourself.”

Phantom simply growls, the sound not as effective without its usual ghostly underlay, and it scratches his throat.

---

True to his word, Jazz arrives at the mansion exactly on time. Phantom watches her park her car and meet Vlad out front. She looks the same as he remembers her, from this distance. Minus the fear in her eyes when he-

“Daniel, Jasmine is here, you must at least come greet her.” Vlad’s voice through the stupid speaker system grates on his nerves. He covers his ears and sits on the edge of his bed instead of moving to leave his room.

It only lasts so long before there is a knock on his door and he feels the air move as it opens, two sets of eyes settling on his back. He doesn’t turn to greet them, hunching over more until he risks slipping off the duvet all together.

“Hi Danny,” Jazz’s voice feels like a stake to his cores. He is not ready for this. “I’m going to come in, okay?”

She waits for a moment and takes careful steps into his room when he doesn’t answer. Vlad excuses himself to get them refreshments, leaving the two alone. Phantom keeps his head down, fingernails digging into his scalp and pulling at his hair. She’s just staring at him.

“Hey,” she tries again. She sighs when he doesn’t react, sitting on the bed a couple of feet away from him. “I know all of this is probably a lot. It’s only been a month, and Vlad says you’ve only been conscious for the last two weeks. I’m glad you’re okay, though. Both Danny and I are. My Danny. Young Danny. The Danny that isn’t you.”

He wishes they would stop calling him by that name. He shifts just barely to turn further away from her and shuts his eyes tight. If he can’t see her then it’s just another nightmare. Maybe he’ll go ghost and be able to fly away this time. 

“I’m here to help you, you know. I’ve been working with my Danny and Vlad to discuss and analyze the information they learned in the Ghost Zone about the origins of ghosts.” She’s blabbing like he remembers she would when she got onto a topic she deemed worthy of pursuing. “Ghosts need a purpose otherwise they grow weak, or aimless. They lose their humanity.” 

Phantom freezes, eyes snapping open. Ghosts lose their humanity when they lose their purpose? That can’t be right. He killed his humanity long, long ago, and he was stronger for it. 

“Vlad told me you haven’t been able to use any of your ghost abilities. Which means you don’t have a purpose!” She says it like it’s this great discovery, but quickly clears her throat and continues praddling on. “Which is okay! It’s okay not to know your purpose, especially after everything that’s happened. That’s one of the reasons why I’m here. Maybe I can help you find a new purpose. This is your second chance, Danny.”

“I don’t have a second chance.” Phantom finally grits out, gripping the duvet so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if some of the threads started to pop. “I lost my second chance to that goody-goody ghost boy. There isn’t anything else for me. My bright future is gone.”

The weight of his words hang in the air for a few moments. He jumps when a hand settles on his shoulder, reflexes too slow to spin and catch the wrist before it can land. He turns at the contact anyways, eyes wide and staring at the teenage girl with long ginger hair that was living and breathing right in front of him. He froze like he was seeing a ghost.

“Do you remember when you wanted to be an astronaut?” She asks him, voice soft. “I know you and my Danny started out the same, so you must have, right? Had a plan for your future?”

An astronaut… what a foolish idea, both now and back then. Even if the accident hadn’t happened, he didn’t have good enough grades or the physical prowess to ever even qualify for the shuttle programs. 

“I’m not sure if that’s something you still want,” Jazz continued. “Even if it was, with your ghost powers you could go into space whenever you want. But, I don’t think that's the only reason you had that dream.” Her eyes grow distant, a smile growing on her face. “My little brother… Despite the world being against him, despite the fact that his acts of heroism never get acknowledged by the people he helps, he is still helping. Even more so now! He’s helping his enemies, the people who want nothing more than to see him dead.”

People like you, goes unsaid. Phantom wrenches his shoulder away from her, eyes lowering into a glare that he hopes conveys how much he wants her gone from his sight.

“That has nothing to do with me. I’m not a hero. I haven’t been for a long time. If I had had my way, you would be dead.”

She doesn’t try to touch him again, hands folding in her lap. He notices the book bag on the floor now, practically overflowing with books. He sees parts of “Algebra 101” peaking out from the zipper.

“Maybe so. But you didn’t have your way. So maybe this isn't the second change you wanted, but what's wrong with third chances? Or fourth or fifth?” Jazz tilts her head down, forcing him to meet her eyes. He wishes he had the courage to look away. “You've been given a do over, Danny. Maybe not the one you wanted but the one I think you needed. And even if you want me dead, I'm not going to leave you behind. You're still my little brother. And what kind of sister would I be if I wasn't overbearing and protective to the point of annoyance?”

That startles a laugh out of him, his shoulders dropping barely an inch and a ghost of smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You were always overbearing. I don't know how he handles you knowing his secret.”

“Oh he didn’t. At least, not very well at first.” She kicks her legs a bit, head tilting back as if she is recalling a distant past. A past Phantom never got to experience. “I got on all of their nerves, but definitely on Danny’s the most. He probably thought I wasn’t any better than mom and dad. Sticking my nose into places it didn’t belong, pretending to know things I had no experience of…” 

She rubs the back of her neck, shaking her head. He doesn’t remember his Jazz being this self aware. For as much as she loved psychology, she never seemed to turn it inwards, always more focused on fixing others' problems. His - cores? Heart? - chest aches with a feeling he shoves away with a hard bite to his cheek.

“When did you figure it out?” He asks, mouth dry and startling at his own voice. Jazz seems to be just as surprised at the question, a much brighter smile dawning on her face.

“Since the first Spectra incident. I saw Danny transform.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I wanted to give him the option of telling me when he was ready.” She toes the plush rug framing the bed. “He didn’t choose for me to know in the first place; it wasn’t my secret. I covered for him as much as I could, but if he caught on he never told me.”

“I didn’t.” Phantom’s voice is small. That means all this time… Did she think he was a hero the whole time? Or had the C.A.T. incident tipped him over the fence into villainhood in her eyes before he had even made that decision for himself?

She nudges him with her elbow, pulling him out of his spiralling thoughts. “You are technically the reason he knows that I know.” When he responds with a raised eyebrow in lieu of words, she continues. “After you revealed yourself, I managed to get a letter to him in the future. He figured it out from there.”

A letter? Phantom had never gotten a letter. He had never gotten a chance to see his future though, either. He replays the events that had led him to where he is now and comes to a crushing realization.

“I really was doomed from the start, huh?” It’s a rhetorical question, the pieces fitting together in his mind like an awful jigsaw puzzle that spells out FAILURE in big, bold letters. Always destined to lose. The hero always wins, after all, and he was the furthest thing from one.

“What?” Jazz’s voice is high pitched and incredulous, as if that is not the conclusion she expected him to reach. 

“It was always going to end this way. All my existence did was give your Danny a chance to be the big hero again. Save his timeline, and destroy mine where all I did was hurt people.” He wonders if his voice sounds as empty as he feels. Pointless. It was all pointless.

“If that’s… how you want to look at it, then I suppose.” He can see how she chews on her cheek, a habit she’s had for as long as he can remember. A way to stop and think before she speaks, she once told him. “Or you can see it as you pushed him into making the right choice even when you couldn’t. Or even that you saved this timeline yourself, in a backwards, maybe-not-the-most-ethical way. This whole experience has made me realize that time is a lot more complicated than I ever could have expected. Multiple timelines, multiple Danny’s -- it’s all too much to keep track of in any logical way.”

She sits a bit taller, fixing Phantom with a determined look that softens after a long moment. Her hand reaches out to squeeze his shoulder again. “It may not have been the best way of going about it,” she starts again, her words the most earnest he thinks he has ever heard, “but you did save my life, one way or the other.”

His instinct is to scowl, to pull away and remind her again that she would be dead if he had gotten his way. His mangled mess of merged cores aching to transform and blast her through the wall to remind her just how little she means to him. 

He’s shaking. Not with anger or indignance, much to his dismay, but with a feeling he has long since been able to place. One he didn’t think he could even feel anymore. His eyes are watering and he stands from the bed, removing her hand in the process and crossing his arms around himself as he stares out the window. He wills this pathetic excuse of a body to get itself under control.

“Danny…”

“Don’t call me that.” He cringes when his voice cracks. “I’m not Danny. Or Daniel. I’m not even Phantom like this.” He stares down at his unmarked hands, at the color of perfectly cloned human flesh. Had he always been this pale, or did the past month inside do this to him? “I’m no one.”

He heard Jazz get up from the bed, refusing to look at her as a stupid tear rolled down his cheek. He would not acknowledge it, nor her. He was grateful when she didn’t try to touch him again.

“That’s not true, you just have to redesign who you are. I can help you-”

“I’m not even supposed to be here!” He cut her off despite how his throat burned and his bottom lip quivered. “I should be long gone along with my timeline. I should have been killed just like I killed everyone I ever claimed to care about. I should have died angry and alone like I deserved. Instead I’m here being tortured with kindness by my arch-nemesis, and hearing my sister say the things I’ve only ever imagined hearing.”

He pulls at his hair, legs feeling weak as more tears burn down his face. His shoulders are tense and his body aches and it feels like he’s being ripped in two. “I’ve been given another chance and for what?” He’s gasping for air, lungs feeling like they might pop under the stress. “Is it another chance or is it my own personal hell for everything I’ve done? To be forced to deal with all these painful, confusing feelings I tried so hard to get rid of? That I was willing to endure watching my family and friends die again by my hands to keep away? It doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t-”

Tight arms wrap around him, a forehead pressed into the top of his head and a sniffle sounds right by his ear. His body is scrunched in an uncomfortable position, but it hardly registers underneath the pure shock that flows through his trembling limbs. His knees give out beneath him, and Jazz helps him settle gently onto the floor, never letting him go all the way down.

“It doesn’t make sense,” his not-sister mutters into his hair, voice tight with emotion of her own. “It doesn’t make sense and I don’t know if it ever will. But it doesn’t need to, because you were given this chance anyways. Because the person you swore to destroy - the you you swore to destroy - refused to give in to the same fear you did.”

She pulls away and pries his fists from his hair with minimal tearage, holding them in her own, much softer ones. “That’s within you too, Danny. I know it is. You’ve been through so much, and a lot of it was by your own hand. But you’re here now, with us. With me. I promise, I won’t leave you again.”

Something inside Phantom shatters. He isn’t quite sure what, but it floods his body with a terrible cold followed by an unbearable warmth. It hurts, and he doesn’t even register when he curls up into Jazz’s arms. He doesn’t hear as much as feels the sob get ripped from his chest, scrambling for a part of his sister’s shirt to cling to. 

“Please don’t leave me,” the words are whispered so softly beneath the hiccups stabbing their way out of his mouth. “Please don’t leave me alone again. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I won’t, Danny. I promise, you’ll never have to be alone again.”

He wails without an ounce of ghostly power behind it.

---

They settle on calling him Dan from now on. “Something in the middle,” he had told Jazz and Vlad when he made the sheepish request. Much to his relief, they didn’t insist on anything different.

Jazz kept her promise, visiting him after school almost every day and spending her entire Saturdays with him in Vlad’s mansion. The billionaire had easily set her up with her own bedroom in what was becoming her second home.

They did more than just help Dan get caught up on his education. They played games, fumbled through trying to bake a cake for Vlad’s birthday, and, most importantly to Dan, talked. Most times it was just him listening to Jazz ramble nonstop about school or her college applications or her new thesis that she’s changed for the fifth time in the last three months, but it settled something in his cores. Just hearing her voice reminded him of the promise she made him. That no matter what he did, she wouldn’t leave him again.

“You need to solve for x, Dan, just like the last problems.”

“The last problems didn’t have the rest of the alphabet involved.” 

He was grumbling through their hour of math today. They had managed to figure out roughly where he dropped out of high school (if you could call it that), and he had been able to catch up with a good portion of the subjects. English still bored him to his second-death, history was easy enough to match up to his research of the Ghost Zone’s history, and science was by far the easiest for him to get a hold of. Begrudgingly, he was still his parent’s son.

Math, however, was proving once again to be the bane of his existence. Dan broke a growing number of pencils during these lessons as they got further and further from the foundations he had memorized years ago in middle school. He doesn’t remember what grades he had pre-explosion, but he doesn’t think it’s a stretch to say he was failing math by a wide margin.

“It’s the quadratic formula, Dan.” Vlad spoke up from the end of the dining table where they set up their pop-up school. He flipped another page on the book he was reading, the residual pomp making Dan’s blood boil. “You plug in the correct numbers. I know you can do it.”

Vlad didn’t attend all their lessons, quickly realizing that Jazz had gotten through Dan’s thick walls and that she wasn’t in any danger. He still attended a fair amount of them, though the reason remained a mystery to Dan. The man was only a drop less aggravating than Dan remembered him being, but Vlad was clearly trying to do… something. To be better, he guesses, to fulfill this new purpose he’s found. Dan wishes he could say the same for himself.

“Plugging in the numbers doesn’t mean anything if I don’t know which numbers are what!” He growls, gripping the edge of the table and wishing he had the strength to flip it. Jazz’s hands pried them from where they had begun to scratch the wood finish and back to the workbook on top. He wishes that she would have a bit more self preservation, but maybe he just wasn’t threatening anymore. 

“It’s okay, Dan. We can start over, here let’s go over it again…” She flips the pages of the math textbook back and begins to point at the triangle on the page once again. 

He manages to get through two and a half problems before Jazz’s phone timer goes off, signalling the end of their “school day.” He immediately sighs with relief, slamming the books closed and letting his face fall onto the table. 

“You did great today, Dan!” He turns his head just enough to see Jazz’s bright smile as she organizes the books back into her backpack. “You got an 84 on the history quiz, and are consistently understanding all the curriculum. Math is your only C subject right now and I know you’re going to bring that up by the end of this unit.”

“That’s more than can be said for Daniel’s grades.” Vlad takes a moment to stretch as he stands, marking his place in his book. “Perhaps you should go into teaching, Jasmine.”

“No no, I don’t know if I could handle that. I also doubt that it has anything to do with me. If I had to guess, it’s easier to study when you don’t have to fight ghosts all the time.”

“Or playing diplomat.” Dan grumbles, watching Vlad and Jazz share a look over his slumped body. Vlad excuses himself a moment later and suspicion prickles at the back of Dan’s neck.

“Right…” Jazz starts, looking sheepish in a way she usually does when she is telling him the next book he has to read or that there is a quiz for him to complete. “Speaking of Danny, we were thinking he could come over tomorrow with me.”

Dan shoots upright, alarm bells ringing in his head. Tomorrow was Friday, when Jazz would usually spend the night and they would watch movies to celebrate another successful week of existing in this timeline. Why did that goody-goody want to disturb the delicate slice of life he had?

“He doesn’t have to stay!” Jazz continues, “He can leave right after studying if it really bothers you all that bad. He just- Midterms are coming up and he asked if I could help him study and he never asks me for help with this stuff and-”

“I’m taking all of your time.” Dan mutters, doing his best not to shift in his chair at the reminder that he is secondary to Jazz’s real family. 

“Dan you know I don’t mind, right?”

“You don’t have to come over tomorrow, you know. Just give us both the day off.” He has to force the words out around the lump in his throat. He grabs his water bottle off the table and tries to swallow it down alongside the troublesome emotions.

“Dan, I want to help you both. And I can! And I think it would be good for you to be around some other people aside from me and Vlad. I doubt you want to stay with him forever which means you need to get reacclimated to the outside world.”

He cringes at the idea of staying with Vlad for the rest of his… after-life? Did this clone body age? Would he start aging again while he was in it? He’d have to bring it up with Vlad when he did his next check-up. 

It was true he hadn’t been around any other living people since he was given this body. Plenty of ghosts have come and gone, as is what happens when living in a place with a ghost portal, but Plasmius has been able to send them back to the Ghost Zone with enough ease that Dan doesn’t barely even get to speak with them. The ones he has spoken to always mistake him for Danny, and he ends up with enough built up rage to shoot them two rooms over into being Vlad’s problem.

But Danny? Jazz wanted the next person he was exposed to to be the person who reminded him just how much of a failure Dan was? To be the person who got everything he ever wanted? The thought filled him with what he wished he could call disgust or anger.

“Not to mention,” Jazz keeps talking when he doesn’t answer, swaying a bit in her seat. “It’s getting close to Christmas.”

Dan couldn’t hide the scowl over his face if he tried. Sure, he hadn’t had to deal with his parents’ stupid argument for the past decade, but there was still that ridiculous truce the Ghost Zone was insistent on keeping. He wasn’t a big enough fool to face every ghost in the zone on what was supposed to be a day of peace, so his resentment for the holiday had shifted to the loneliness he didn’t realize he had come to associate with it.

“Yeah, despite the whole Ghost Writer thing a couple years ago, it still isn’t exactly his favorite time of year. At least I don’t have to worry about him getting too cold when he leaves the house anymore.” She sighs, leveling him with a look that bordered on pleading. “He already promised me he would ‘suffer through’ Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but having a place away from it all, around someone who isn’t so gung-ho about the holiday either… It would be good for him. So Dan, please, just give him a chance?”

---

“Well this is weird.” Is the first thing Danny says upon seeing Dan, meeting Dan’s hateful glare with one of clear unease. Dan had to agree though; seeing his pre-merge face in the mirror was already unsettling enough, this was just downright unnerving.

“Don’t be mean,” Jazz scolds his little brother, pushing him further into the dining room to once again set up their little classroom. 

“I’m not! It’s just… weird.” The boy mutters, setting his own backpack down and sitting down at the table a couple of seats down from Dan. Thank the ancients for Vlad’s preference for inconveniently extravagant furniture.

Jazz sits between them, instructing Danny to pull out his own study materials while she pulls out Dan’s. He does his best to ignore his alternate self, keeping his head fixed downward. He looks up as soon as he realizes that Jazz has placed the math books in front of him. They made a habit of not starting with math during their lessons, as it often makes him too annoyed to effectively pay attention to anything else. 

She catches on to his confusion pretty quickly, “We’re going to start with math today. For both of you.” She tacks on the last bit with a lean towards her brother. He chooses not to hear Danny’s groan that mirrors his own feelings.

“Are you trying to make this day as awful as possible?” 

“Best to get it over with, I say.” Jazz doesn’t look the least bit remorseful as she circles some practice questions from each of their books.

“Has that ever worked out for us in the past?” Despite his reluctance he still picks up the pencil and starts trying to pick apart the stupid question. How did that formula from yesterday go again?

They worked in relative silence for the next few hours, Jazz buzzing between the two of them to answer questions and guide them towards the answers when they were particularly hopeless. To Dan’s surprise, he had only partially burned three and a half pieces of paper by the time things were getting packed up. He was scooping the last bits of the red-edged ashes into his palm when Danny finally addressed him for the first time since he first arrived.

“Well, I know who to call if I ever need a fire start.”

He could feel the ashes burning into a finer powder as he growled, “You’re lucky I’m not at full power, boy.”

“You’re not?” Danny’s eyebrows shoot up as he focuses on Dan’s threat in the wrong way. “Is that why you’re your human half? I would have thought the ghost half was more comfortable for you. Can you not transform?”

“That’s none of your business.” He responds perhaps too quickly. Jazz elaborates when it’s clear he isn’t going to keep talking.

“Dan hasn’t found a new purpose yet. His powers are short circuiting just like yours were.”

“I could at least go ghost during all of that, though.”

“His situation is a bit more dire than yours.” She gets up from the table, fixing a finger at both of them. “I’m going to put my stuff away in my room. Behave you two.”

They both watch as their sister ascends the stairs before looking back at each other. Dan shifts the ash still in his fist, before lifting it to his mouth and blowing it towards the other. Danny immediately starts coughing, waving his hands in front of himself and rubbing over his face to get the burnt dust off himself.

“Dude! What gives?”

Dan doesn’t respond, getting up from the table as well to start getting snacks ready for his and Jazz’s movie night. He spots the stack of bills on the kitchen island, reading the sticky note placed on top.

You may use this money to order yourselves some food for tonight.

Don’t forget to tip, and clean up after yourself. 

Be nice, little viper.

Yours truly,

Vlad 

“Little viper? Who is that?” Dan jumps about a foot in the air when Danny’s voice appears from behind him, his arm swinging back at the boy. He easily goes intangible, leaving Dan stumbling from the momentum. “Oh gross, did Vlad give you a nickname too?”

Dan glares again at the intruder, baring his teeth even when he knows it makes him look more like a cornered dog rather than anything actually intimidating. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to read over people's shoulders like that?”

“Did they ever tell you?”

Dan just glares harder.

“Oh come on, dude, I’m trying here.” Danny keeps going, following behind Dan as he moves to grab his phone off the charger and starts scrolling through takeout places. He bristles when he counts the amount of cash left and realizes there is enough to pay for three people.

“I wish you wouldn’t. I want nothing to do with you. I’ve only tolerated you being here because Jazz asked me to. Don’t get used to it.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I can help you, too? You need to find a new obsession for your powers, right? Well let me work with you and-”

“Listen here, ghost child,” Dan’s voice is icy as he speaks. “I know you’re playing happy little ghost bridge or whatever for everyone in the Ghost Zone, but I do not want or need your help. I am not some charity case for you to feed your obsession with. I will get my powers back on my own, and you would do well to stay out of my way as once I do, I will take back what’s mine.”

Danny doesn’t react to his little speech, letting the threat hang in the air between them for what it was. Dan can practically hear the gears turning in his other self’s head as he tries to gauge whether Dan is actually a threat to him, now or in the future.

“You won’t.” Danny finally settles on, not letting Dan ask his obvious rebuttal before shrugging and tagging on: “You don’t want to be alone again. You like having a family again.”

“I don’t have a family.”

“Uh, Jazz?” Danny gestures to the note laying on the counter again, “Vlad?”

Dan’s lip curls in disgust at the mere suggestion. “Vlad is not family.”

“I don’t know man. I think he legally adopted you when he literally carried you into this timeline.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that.”

“You accepted the help though, anyways.”

Leave it to himself to break down his own arguments. Dan huffs, going back to scrolling through his phone without actually reading any of the restaurants listed. “Jazz isn't my family either.”

“Phantom, she spends more time here than she does at our house at this point. You’ve basically stolen my sister from me.” That gives Dan a pause, a mix of satisfaction and - ugh - guilt worming in his stomach. “But like, hey, you can have her.”

Dan has no confusion at what he feels now, anger boiling under his skin again. “Of course you wouldn’t know how good you have it.”

“I do know how good I have it. It’s hard not to when it gets threatened on a day to day basis.” He shuffles, rubbing the back of his neck in a habit that Dan didn’t realize was that obvious. “But I know Jazz is safe here. As ironic as that is.”

“A mansion with an active ghost portal and your two worst enemies.” Dan deadpans, “Either you are overestimating your sister or underestimating me and Plasmius.”

“Probably both,” he shrugs, “but what I do know is that Jazz has gotten more injuries just going to school than she ever has here, and that’s not even mentioning our parents.” He snorts, “and the one time she did get hurt here, she came home with like, 15 bandages for a splinter.”

“It was only two.” Dan grumbles, guilt becoming a familiar feeling as it roils around again at the memory. He had gotten overly aggravated at a lesson that day, completely shattering the pencil he had been holding. A far too hot piece of graphite had been launched into Jazz’s forearm, and for the first time in ten years a scream hadn’t made him happy.

“I don’t trust you guys with pretty much anything other than making my life miserable. Vlad is trying to be better, though. You’re proof of that.” Danny gives him a small, hopeful - dare Dan say, grateful? - smile. “And with the way Jazz talks about you, I know you couldn’t lay a finger on her if you tried. So I know I can trust you guys to keep her safe.”

“You’re a sappy fool.”

“Yeah, maybe I am.”

“There you boys are,” Jazz’s voice is a welcome distraction from the aggravating smile on his other self’s face. “Come on Danny, I can give you a ride home. I’ll come back right after.”

“I can just fly home like I usually do.”

“Not this time, I have a couple more questions I want to quiz you on in the car.”

Danny groans and the siblings continue their bickering, turning to walk back out towards the dining room. Dan looks back at the stack of bills on the counter, chewing on his cheek as he realizes he is actually considering his options for the night.

“Dan, think about what movie you want to watch. I’ll be back in an hour tops.”

“If you’re lucky. Seriously, just let me fly back and you can quiz me on Sunday-”

“You know,” Dan starts, having to clear his throat as it trips on his own uncertainty. “Vlad left enough cash here to order for three people.”

He couldn’t keep eye contact with the two of them, staring instead at his phone screen again. He can feel in the air as they process the hesitant offer, and when he risks a glance up he wants to cringe away from the looks of surprise he sees.

“Or you can leave, I don’t care, I’ll order a feast for myself.” He grumbles, grabbing the money and pushing past them, internally cursing himself for the display of weakness, and even more for the disappointment that settled in his cores.

He doesn’t make it far before a hand grabs his arm, causing his feet to stumble back. When he turns back he sees both of them smiling at him, with Jazz’s face absolutely beaming with joy. 

“Oh no you don’t.” She pulled him back towards the two of them, grabbing the money from his hands and giving it a quick count. “We’re deciding what to eat together. Maybe we can watch a history documentary in lieu of those practice questions.”

Both her brothers make their objections known.

---

“Ah, little viper, there you are.” Dan had gotten used to the nickname at this point, having heard and, foolishly, responded to it over the past three months. He had to at least pretend to be annoyed by it, though. “I wanted to make sure you knew I will be away this weekend for a business trip.”

Dan doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading, “Okay, and?”

“I expect you to look after the main common areas you use, and keep an eye on things in the lab while I’m away. I have a few tissue samples that need to be observed and documented twice a day. Once in the morning, once at night. There is some lab equipment that needs to be cleaned as well that I would like you to take care of. I’ve left a list.”

Dan does look up this time, not hiding any of his confusion. “What? Why would I do that? Don’t you have your stupid computer program or whatever to monitor that stuff?”

“Because you are a young man who is capable of handling a couple of responsibilities.”

“...Are these chores? Are you giving me chores?”

The small smile on Vlad’s face is answer enough. Dan slams his book closed without marking it, pushing it aside before he starts a fire with the pages. He was actually enjoying this novel.

“Jazz has given you a bit of an extended winter break, so I want to make sure your mind is being properly challenged. Some lab work will be good for you, since science is your best subject. I expect you to follow all the proper lab safety procedures.” There isn’t anything malicious in Vlad’s words - there isn’t much these days - but there is plenty of amusement. “But yes, these are also chores.”

“You can’t make me do anything, old man.”

“Ah, but Dan, you might want to. Those tissue samples are a part of my research into why your powers are being so hindered. It would be a pity to have all that work be set back because you’ve decided you’re above a few simple requests. I suppose, though, if you aren’t that concerned about restoring your powers then who am I to force you.”

Dan growls, attempting his best to shoot an ectoray through Vlad’s head and sagging down when it, predictably, doesn’t work.

---

“I won’t be able to come over this weekend.” Jazz tells him when she is over on Friday, arriving shortly after Vlad had left for his business trip. There haven’t been any lessons the last few weeks, but Jazz still came over to hang out. Danny had begun to join her once or twice a week as well, although he wasn’t in attendance today.

“What? Why?” First Vlad, now Jazz. Dan hadn’t been completely on his own since entering this timeline and he itched at the thought.

“I’m getting to go tour Yale!” Her voice is practically a squeal as she tells him. “And it’s a ways away, so mom is going to come with me and we’re going to stay in a fancy hotel and I’m going to get to see where some of the greatest minds were formed!”

“I thought you wanted to go to Harvard?” Her excitement is enough to dampen his anxiety for the moment.

“Oh I do, but it’s important to view all your options, you know? I want to make sure I’m making the best choice.”

“So you’ll be gone the whole weekend?” 

“Yep, we’ll be coming back on Monday. It’ll be nice to miss school for something not ghost related for once.”

He hummed, trying to focus back on the board game they were playing and not on the realization that when she left for the night, he would well and truly be alone.

---

It was early Saturday afternoon, around 1 p.m. according to the digital clock on the wall, and Dan was down in the lab. After spending about two hours half-watching squirming ectoplasmic tissue, he had written his messy observations down and had planned to leave until that night when he would do it again. 

However, the quiet of the mansion quickly got to him. It had always been quiet, save for when Dan had to grab the fire extinguisher for a home cooked meal gone awry, or the occasional ghostly visitor. The place was big enough that, on most days, he and Vlad only saw each other maybe twice. The quiet hadn’t bothered him before.

It felt different knowing he was alone. Again.

He had wandered back into the lab, the hum of the electronics and various ectoplasmic energy causing the hairs on his arm to rise. It felt like when he would fly around the giant ghost shield that surrounded his timeline’s Amity, but on a much smaller scale. 

He spent some time cleaning up the lab. It was nothing like how his parents’ lab had gotten; there was no broken glass to clean up, no papers carelessly scattered across the floor, and no globs of ectoplasm dripping from the ceiling from whatever explosion had happened that week. He had never cleaned up that lab when he was asked.

He gathered some of the various test tubes and droppers, all stained a faintly glowing green, and carefully deposited them into the sink. He turned on the faucet, setting it to hot and set off to find the ecto-cleaning agent in the cabinet. 

The spray bottle was something he was familiar with at this point, the cartoonish label standing out amongst the more scientific ones. Most of Vlad’s mansion was covered in carpet and expensive curtains, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to get splattered with whatever goop an unfortunate ghost that wandered in was made of. He had seen Vlad use the cleaning agent for ghost portal maintenance as well. He had said that it helped lube up the sliding mechanisms. Dan had asked him to never say the phrase “lube up” around him ever again.

By the time he got back to the sink, steam was rising from the tub. He unscrewed the top of the bottle and poured a generous helping in, setting the rest aside. He leaned against the edge of the sink and watched the red liquid swirl and bubble, slowly breaking down the various ecto-enzymes into something that could be scrubbed away. It was too bright, but the color reminded him of blood nonetheless.

It was odd, living someplace with a ghost portal again. He had destroyed his parents’ portal about a year after the accident, shortly after locating and acquiring the Infi-Map for personalized travel between the realms. He had asked the map to take him to Vlad’s portal so he could monopolize the human realm for himself, but it had refused. He supposes he knows why now.

He wonders how different the Ghost Zone was in this timeline, without his destructive influence. It had never given him a lair, despite him being full ghost, so he had tried to go to each ghost’s lair and take it for himself, or destroy it in the process. It was a good way to train himself in a variety of powers, absorbing a lot of energy from each lair he came across such as Amorpho’s shifting ability. If he did it again, would it give him back his powers?

A bubble in the sink pops, sending a drop of soapy water into his eye. He hisses as it burns, running some cooler water to rinse his eye out. That’s what he got for zoning out again. Between his barely coherent notes and now a possible eye infection, Vlad really shouldn’t have trusted Dan alone in the lab. 

He goes about scrubbing the equipment, donning elbow-high rubber gloves and a bottle brush. While the status of his ghostliness was up for debate, he knew better than to risk touching what was effectively ghost bleach with his bare hands.

He was scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of ectoplasm that had stuck to the rubber of a dropper, muttering curses all the way, when the lab’s computer voice came on over the speakers.

“There is someone at the door.”

It luckily no longer sounds like Maddie Fenton (as a request from Jazz), but it still scares whatever life Dan still had out of him. He squeezes the dropper so hard when startled that it slips out of his hand, launching up before plopping back into the sink below.

He had half the mind to ignore the notice, but resigns himself to start pulling off the gloves when the computer said it again. It was programmed to say it every time someone knocked on the front door, and these visitors seemed insistent they get answered as the voice line was repeated another two times by the time he had thrown the gloves to the side. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming, geez, give a guy a second.” He mutters, unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door.

Only to see Danny standing there, waving at him.

With Tucker and Sam on either side.

He promptly slams the door.

“What? Dude, come on, let us in!”

“Nope. No dealing with that today.”

He was halfway up the stairs when his ghost sense goes off, strings of red floating up past his vision. A second later, Danny, in his ghost form, and his friends, appear on the landing in front of him. At least the other two had the decency to look worried.

“I was trying to be polite, dude. It’s freezing outside, you could have just let us in.”

“I don’t care.” Dan raises his hand up towards his other self, his annoyance manifesting into a faint red outline. “Leave or I will shoot you.”

“No you won’t, because that’d upset Jazz and Vlad.” His knowing smirk falls a second later. “Well, maybe not Vlad. But it would definitely upset Jazz.”

Despite how it feels like Dan’s body is vibrating in quiet rage, any essence of an ectoray fizzles out as soon as Danny calls his bluff. He grumbles and climbs the rest of the stairs, shoving past the teenagers in his way. Fine, he’ll just ignore them.

He heads back to the lab, feeling as his unwanted guests putter along behind him at Danny’s insistence.

“I told you he was grumpy.”

“Yeah, grumpy enough to shoot a hole in us. I thought you said his powers weren't working?”

“They aren't. There wasn't enough energy there to even knock me over if he had gone through with it.”

He slams the door to the lab behind him, but doesn't bother locking it. They would just phase through again if he did.

He went back over to the sink, scowling at his warbly reflection in the now cold, red tinted water. He flips the faucet back on and impatiently taps his foot.

“Vlad’s lab? What are you doing in here?”

Dan doesn’t look back at them, instead shoving his hands into the water to grab a test tube. His hands sting. He picks up the brush and starts scrubbing.

“Are you… cleaning something?” Danny barks a laugh, and he’s far closer to Dan than he was a moment ago. He notes the distinct lack of ghostly presence - he must have changed back into his human form. “No way, has Vlad got you doing chores? It's like you're a real teenager again!”

Dan pours out the soapy liquid from the tube and shoves it under hot water to start the process again. He relishes in the too-hot heat as he bites back, “Vlad’s not making me do anything.”

“But you are still doing it.”

Dan’s vision goes red for a moment, and he can see a gleam of light coming from him in the water. There's a loud crack.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” 

Dan’s about to rip away from whoever has grabbed him, when pain radiates through his hand and up his arm. He curls forward with a curse, trying to cradle his hand to his chest but is unsuccessful. He focuses his eyes again to see Sam is the one holding his arm, pulling him away from the sink. There are drops of blood darkening the water.

“Look what you did, Danny.” 

“What? This wasn't my fault!”

“You two cut it out.” Sam spits at the other two boys, tugging a rolling chair over with her foot and coaxing Dan to sit down. She still hasn't let go of him. “Find me a first-aid kit.”

“I don't know Vlad’s place well enough for that. I wouldn't be surprised if the guy doesn't even have one.”

“Cabinet. By the chemical shower.” Dan gasps, feeling more than seeing as Sam waves them off to go grab the kit.

She slowly slides her hand down to his wrist, pressing down on a pulse point to encourage his hand to open. The movement sends a new wave of agony up his arm and stings his core. He hisses, arm jolting. Was Sam’s grip always this strong?

“You have pieces of glass in your hand, Phantom.” Once Dan is able to open his eyes against the pain he can see she’s right. There are about four shards of glass sticking out of his skin, along with two short gashes. Blood runs in rivulets down the curves of his hand until it drips to the floor. His blood is red and he almost feels faint at the sight of it.

She gets a pair of tweezers from somewhere, probably from the first-aid kit, and warns him in a soft voice before plucking out the glass. He hisses and clenches at the removal of each one, his fingers twitching and nerves on fire. The last shard plinks onto the floor but he barely feels any relief.

“That's the last one. Just let me disinfect it and we can bandage it up. Just a bit more.”

The warm cloth that cleans up the blood is a welcome feeling, but the subsequent alcohol pad over the clotting gashes is very much not. It's short lived, though, and true to her word Sam begins to wrap his hand up. He has more of a paw than a hand by the time she’s done, unable to bend his fingers against the thick bandage.

His shoulders finally fall from where they sat next to his ears, breath steadily slowing. Only then does he notice that Sam was still basically cradling his hand. It takes him what feels like minutes to look her in the eye.

“...Thank you.”

She smiles at him. It's small and uncertain, but it’s still a smile. “Be more careful next time, okay?” They stare at each other for a few moments before she lets him take his hand back, and he holds it close to his chest.

“Next time, let's not anger the person handling glass, okay?” Sam’s attention has turned to Danny, her voice scolding.

“I wasn't trying to hurt him!”

“You’re lucky he didn't throw the test tube at your head.” Tucker muttered.

“Go empty the sink, the glass needs to be cleared out of there too before anyone else gets hurt. Use your intangibility so you don't get cut.”

“Geez, okay, okay.”

It was satisfying hearing Danny getting badgered instead of him for once, but the order Sam gave him clicked far too late.

“Wait don’t-” 

He looks up just in time to see Danny’s intangible hand dip into the tub. The effect isn't immediate, but Dan can see when the cleaning agent in the water penetrates past his ghost energy.

Danny cries out, ripping his hand out of the water and sending waves of it over the counter and onto the floor. It's his turn to hold his hand to his chest, an angry red rash full of popping blisters quickly forming over it. 

Dan rushes over, nearly slipping on the water on the floor and fumbling with the faucet once again. He pivots it over the empty drain tub, and sets it to cold. His own hand aches as he grabs Danny’s arm, shoving it underneath the water.

Danny’s breath heaves past what Dan can only imagine is burning pain straight to his core. The running water begins to form a layer of frost along Danny’s arm, chipping off and reforming as more water hits it. Dan’s own bandage is soaked as he holds Danny’s hand there, the boy half collapsed against the sink, gritting his teeth against the awful sensation.

“What the heck was that? What happened?”

“Anti-ecto cleaning agent.” Dan nods to the full tub and the open bottle on the other side of the sink. He sees in the corner of his eye how Tucker picks it up slowly, examining it. “It’s highly concentrated to break down any and all ectoplasmic material it comes in contact with. I was using it to clean the equipment.”

“But you were touching it and it didn't do that to you!”

“Yeah, because I'm about as human as I can be right now.” He gives a pointed nod to Danny. “He stuck what was essentially a ghost hand into the damn stuff.”

For the next few minutes the only sounds in the lab are the running water, the soft twinkling of chipping ice, and Danny’s labored breaths and grunts of pain. Eventually, the pain must subside enough to where Danny can get his bearings. He pulls himself up from his slouched position, rubbing at his wet face with his free hand. Dan lets go, but doesn't shut off the water, letting Danny hold his own hand under it for however long he’d like..

“I stuck my hand in a bath of acid.” Danny croaks.

“Basically.”

Danny sighs once Dan confirms it, head hanging and his other hand running through his hair. “Guess that's karma.”

Sam takes over Danny’s care from there, finding some burn cream in the kit and slathering the already oozing blisters with it. He gets a heavy bandage as well, wrapping up half his forearm. She redos Dan’s bandage too, despite his protests, and then they are both sent to sit in the back of the lab as the other two clean up the rest of the mess that was made. Dan breathes a silent sigh of relief when Sam picks up the rubber gloves.

He watches as Tucker finds a mop to soak up the floor, grumbling about working on what was supposed to be his day off. Danny is taking careful breaths next to him, Dan noticing the drop in temperature and new ice fractals curling around the grain of the bandage.

“You should stop that before you soak your bandage through.”

“It’s kind of happening on its own. If you have any advice on how to stop it, I’m all ears.”

“I never got ice powers, so you’re on your own with that.”

That seems to distract Danny enough from his pain, sparkles of ice immediately chipping off as he looks at Dan instead. “You didn’t? Do you not have an ice core?”

Dan shrugs, “My core is an amalgamation of what yours and Plasmius’ is.”

“What about your ghost sense?”

“What about it?”

Danny lifts his uninjured hand to his mouth, twirling a finger in front of his lips. “Is it not like seeing your breath?”

“No? It’s closer to a nose bleed?” Dan pauses, trying to think back before the explosion. “Maybe it used to be more like that before I merged, though.”

“Huh,” Danny looks back down at his bandage and picks at the icicles. 

“Why are you here?” When Danny hums his confusion, Dan repeats the question.

“Uh, because Jazz can’t be?” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “She promised you you wouldn’t be alone, remember?”

Dan presses into his own injured hand a bit too hard, focusing on the sting of pain rather than whatever other feeling threatens to bloom in his cores. He chooses to not comment on that part, plowing along instead.

“Then why are they here?” 

He juts his head over to Sam and Tucker, the latter struggling to lift the mop bucket only for his friend to help him tip it into the sink. Dan hears some sort of comment about working on Tucker’s upper body strength, followed by a groan and a snicker.

“Well, one, I figured you wouldn’t be comfortable with just me, and two, because I thought it might be nice for you to reconnect with some old friends?”

Dan watches as Tucker hands Sam a couple of rags from who knows where, letting her dry off the counters. The pang of emotions - guilt, apprehension, hope - were not as easily banished this time. 

“You mean the old friends that I killed?” Dan’s voice is quiet and laced with loathing.

Danny’s head whips over to Dan, the exasperation the other boy felt practically rolling off him in waves. “This again? Dan we’ve told you-”

“Hey, that’s going to have to be good enough.” Sam’s voice interrupts Danny.

“Let’s get out of here before something else happens.” Tucker was already on the other side of the lab door, waiting for the others to join him.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Dan mutters, doing his best not to drag his feet too much as he walks away from the scolding that Danny was surely about to give him. “If I’m lucky maybe this’ll turn Vlad off from giving me chores while he’s gone.”

“So they were chores!” He isn’t naive enough to think Danny has dropped their previous conversation, but he is grateful when the bait is taken either way.

They settle on heading to the downstairs theater room to watch a horror trilogy Sam has been insistent on the other two watching. Dan leaves Tucker and Sam to figure out the DVD-projector hybrid, heading out to the kitchen instead to try and process the last hour. 

He isn’t lucky enough to be alone for long, as Danny enters while he is midscroll on his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Vlad how to turn the ghost shield on to keep out an unwanted visitor.”

It takes Danny too long to realize Dan means him. He scoffs, and he can practically hear it when he rolls his eyes. “Ghost shields don’t stop humans.”

“No, but locks do.” He gives Danny a tight smile.

“Whatever dude, you can’t run away from this forever.”

Dan doesn’t bother responding, sighing as he sees a text from Jazz asking how his day was going, as well as fifteen pictures of the Yale campus. He opens up the internet browser instead of responding, slowly typing as to not aggravate his hand injury.

He pockets his phone once he’s done, watching as Danny struggles similarly to him. He’s hunched over the counter, non-bandaged finger pecking at the screen to type. He really did get the worse of the injuries; at least Dan had access to all his finger tips even if they hurt. Danny does a small dance in success once the whatever text he was writing is sent, and then abruptly stops when he notices Dan.

“Stop watching me, you creep.” He mutters as he almost drops his phone trying to get it into his pocket. Dan can see the various cracks that already cover the screen.

“I’m just waiting for you to be done so you can play hero and claim to drag me back to the others.”

Any embarrassment Danny was feeling must vanish at that, as a smile appears on his face instead. “You’re going to join us?”

“I figured I didn’t have much of a choice. I don’t trust you three unsupervised in the mansion.”

“What are you, the Masters Mansion guarddog?”

“Ugh, absolutely not.” Dan can’t fight his own smile down as he turns back towards the hallway with Danny walking beside him.

Sam greets them first. “You're back! Just in time.” 

“I’m assuming you figured it all out then.”

“Yep!” Tucker’s head pops up from the back of the room where Dan knows the projector is. “You know, despite the fact that Vlad lives in the early 90s most of the time, he sure does have some high tech stuff.”

They all settle into their seats, Dan sitting a row ahead of the trio. It leaves him feeling awkward, but it's better than pushing further past his crumbling walls to sit next to one of his old friends. 

The movie starts, the intro cheesy and music already too loud. They get about twenty minutes in before Dan’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He fishes for it, scanning the notification before standing up.

“Computer, pause the movie.”

“Hey, where’re you going?” Sam asks once the sound from the speakers stop, alongside Tucker’s much more excited “It's voice controlled!”

“Getting the door. I'll be back in a second.” Dan flicks the lights on as he leaves, snorting at the trio of noises as their eyes adjust.

He returns a handful of minutes later precariously balancing three large pizza boxes. He sets them down on the armrests of a theater chair, trying to wipe any grease off of his arms.

“You got pizza?” Unsurprisingly, Tucker is the first one launching himself out of his chair.

“Consider us even for the whole lab stuff earlier.” Dan steps back out of the room as the other two approach, letting the trio see what he got. He comes back with some plates and sodas, setting them aside too.

They had spread out the pizzas, showing the variety of choices: a vegetarian, a meat lovers, and an extra cheese stuffed crust. Sam and Tucker were already bickering about the superiority of their pizza, but Danny shot him a knowing smile.

“Still remember their favorites, huh?” Danny teased him as they cleaned up several hours later.

“Shut it.”

---

Dan has to explain what happened to Vlad first when he gets back home Sunday night. He finds Dan in the lab once again, staring at the tissue samples and struggling to write with his left hand.

“There you are little viper, I see you decided to help out with those samples.” Vlad takes the notebook out from under Dan’s pencil, squinting as he tries to read it. “These are… some notes. Are you perhaps practicing your ghost runes?”

Dan groans, forehead thinking onto the counter. He lifts his bandaged hand for Vlad to see. “Can't write. Hurts.”

“Dan, my word, what happened?” The notebook drops back down next to Dan’s head, and he lets Vlad turn his wrist to look at the injury.

“Broke a test tube yesterday.”

“And you cleaned it up with your hand?”

“Something like that.” Dan pulls his hand away, shuffling off the chair. “Well, now that you're back, my work here is done.”

“Wait, Dan,” he pauses just before he leaves the lab, turning back to see Vlad reading over his notes. “It was just some shallow cuts?”

“Uh, some glass got stuck in the skin.” He looks away at Vlad’s obvious concern. “Then some gashes too, but it was disinfected and it’s been wrapped. I'll be fine.”

Dan is out into the hallway when he hears Vlad’s quiet, “It should have healed by now…” He keeps walking.

Jazz is the second person he has to explain it all to when she comes to see him on Tuesday. He feels bad as she stops mid-story to grab his wrist and look at his hand. It's not a useless paw anymore, but it still has a wrap bandage around the palm and several single bandaids around the fingers.

“What happened? Why are you all bandaged up?”

He pulls his hand away, futilely trying to hide it. “It was just an accident, I’m fine.” Jazz doesn't look convinced. “Really, I’m fine. Go on with your story. You said you met some professors?”

She hesitates, giving him a look that he knew by now meant she was seeing right through him. He tries to give the best smile he can, even though that probably makes her all the more suspicious.

“If you say so…” It doesn't take too long for her excitement to build up again, and he does his best to ignore the worried glances she gives him every now and then.

Dan didn't think he would have to explain anything to Danny. And yet when he comes back over to the mansion that Saturday, some of the first words out of his mouth are:

“Your hand is still hurt.”

“How very astute of you.” He deadpans at the boy, checking to see that Jazz still hasn't come back in the room.

“Mine isn't.”

“Now he’s bragging,” Dan crosses his arms. “Do you want me to take the bandage off so you can pour some lemon juice onto it too?”

“No, I’m just confused.” Danny completely ignores Dan’s next snarky comment. He holds up his own injured hand instead, showing the fully healed skin. There are a couple of faint circular scars dotted on his forearm where blisters ruptured. “Your cuts were way less than my chemical burn. Why aren't you healed all the way?”

Dan wishes they didn't have to have this conversation. That he didn't have to spell it out for the ghost boy, and yet here they were.

“Maybe because I can hardly channel any ghostly energy right now? Of course, except when you annoy me half way to the Ghost Zone, but considering that's what got us here in the first place, maybe that isn't the best medicine.”

Danny doesn't rise to the obvious bait, instead his face morphs into something too much like pity for Dan’s comfort. “It’s affecting your healing, too?”

“It’s just a couple of band-aids at this point,” Dan deflects, itching the top of one of said band-aids. That was one of the most annoying parts of healing naturally: the itching. “I'll be fine in a few more days. I'd bet I'm still healing faster than most humans.”

Jazz comes to his rescue, coming back into the lounge with some sort of trivia game before Danny can ask another question. 

Dan is getting sick of people looking at him like that.

---

It’s been two weeks since his hand fully healed. It didn't heal like he was used to. When he would suffer an injury in his human half before, a mark of some kind would be visible, but often not much more. He could run his hand over it and the skin would still feel smooth. At times there would be a bit of a bump for the worst injuries, but nothing more than a tiny caterpillar-esq scar. As a full ghost, most, if not all, of his injuries were completely healed within a day with no lasting marks.

His hand felt bumpy when he touched where the cuts had been. They didn't hurt anymore, that's how he knew it was healed, but the skin was still red with bits of pale white around the edges. He picks at the scars that have formed sometimes when he isn't paying attention, peeling off the new skin that had formed and cursing when he has to place another band-aid as blood bubbles to the top.

He starts paying more attention to how they look as the days pass. He also starts paying attention to the rest of him. When he brushes his teeth he looks closer at his face. When he showers he examines the bare skin he can see. The clone’s body, his body, is not a perfect copy.

“Clones can't copy scars.” Dan doesn't know why he says it exactly, one day when Danny is visiting. A rare occasion of him on his own, Jazz having to stay after school for one reason or another.

“What?” Danny looks at him, pausing mid-reach for a cup from the cupboard.

Dan stares at Danny’s arm. He can see the Lichtenberg scar branching across the skin and under his shirt. He looks down at his own left hand, pressing into the palm, where there is no mark, just like the rest of his body. Something in his cores aches.

He doesn't need to repeat himself, it seems, for Danny to understand, lowering his own hand to look at it. “Oh.” Is all he says for a while, before he tries to force some of his usual humor into the situation. “Hey, you get a fresh slate then. Give it time, I'm sure you'll get all beat up again. We have a knack for pissing people off.”

“Yeah,” is all Dan can say, still staring at his hand.

“Hey,” Danny starts again. “We’ll get your powers back.”

They keep saying that. Both Danny and Vlad, constantly reassuring him that any day now his powers will come back. But he knows they don't know that, that they are lost as to what to do to truly help him.

Dan has heard by now how Danny’s dwindling purpose left his powers. How he steadily lost each power until it was rekindled bigger and better than ever before. Despite his seemingly dormant cores, Dan can feel how much stronger Danny has gotten just by being in proximity to him in his ghost form.

Danny’s case was different than Dan’s though. He had a merged core, and was inside a body that wasn't his own. It was a miracle he hadn't completely destabilized. It felt like a blessing and a curse he was human again.

“What if it's better that I don't?”

Danny falters. “Do you… not want them back?”

“All I ever did was hurt people with them.”

“So did Vlad.” Danny goes back to his abandoned mission, grabbing a cup and filling it with water to sip at. Dan recognizes it as a way to keep his hands busy. “But look at him now. He’s putting his knowledge towards actually effective ghost research, he’s going on patrols, he’s taking care of you…”

“He’s what?” Dan looks up, and Danny meets his eyes.

“Taking care of you?”

“No before that - the patrols. He’s going on patrols?”

“Yeah. It’s only fair really, since a lot of ghosts only know about the Fenton portal because of him.”

“When is he doing this?”

“Uh, while I'm here?” Danny says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, as if once again Dan has missed key information. “I wouldn't be able to handle being here as long or as often as I am otherwise. This place is barely within city limits.”

This was so much for Dan to try and process. “Plasmius has been going on patrols around Amity Park so you could be here with me without having to worry.” He repeats it all, still feeling lost when Danny nods. “I thought your obsession had changed, though?”

Danny shrugs, swirling his cup and watching the whirlpool it forms. “Yeah, it has, and it hasn't even been Amity specific for about a year now. I don't really understand it either. Maybe it's old habits?” He sticks his finger into the water, pulling it out a moment later with a newly formed ice cube attached. “Or maybe my core hasn't fully shifted to the new obsession? We’ve been trying to understand this stuff for months now but for every discovery there's ten more questions.”

“Why do you come over then?” Dan’s confusion just grows. “If it's causing you so much discomfort, it can't be worth the effort.”

“It's not as bad when I'm in my human half. And…” Danny hesitates, Dan quickly putting together the rest of the thought.

“I told you I wasn’t obsession fodder.”

“Geez, dude, I know that.” The ice cube melts enough to plop back into Danny’s cup. “I haven’t been trying to treat you like that either.” Dan crosses his arms and gives him an unimpressed look. “Ugh, Dan, look, whether we like it or not you are a ghost - a person - who needs help. You are also one of my worst enemies so it also feels like my responsibility to keep an eye on you.”

“Pretty sure Clockwork gave that responsibility to Vlad.” As if Vlad didn’t practically volunteer himself. How did he end up surrounded by do-gooders?

“Unfortunately, I’m pretty used to helping him out.” He pauses. “Him choosing to help me without threat of total destruction is still kind of weird, though.”

“You don’t have to live with it.” Dan mutters, and does his best to keep his scowl from slipping when Danny laughs.

“Yeah, you definitely got the short end of the stick with that one.”

---

“And that’s game.” Danny looks far too smug as he leans back into the couch, tossing the controller to the side. The victory screen displays, showing Dan’s black mechsuit character clapping in the background while Danny’s masked anime boy was in front with a golden number one in front of him.

“That was a lot better than last time!” Sam pats his shoulder twice and then quickly removes her hand. His old friends had gotten more comfortable with him over the last few visits but were still treading carefully. 

“Yeah you almost took a stock.” Tucker was already setting up the next round, “For someone who hasn’t picked up a controller in ten years, you might be able to win a match in the next three months.”

Dan put his controller down before he broke another, closing his hands into tight fists and doing those silly breathing exercises Jazz had shown him. The trio was spending Saturday with him again, and they were sprawled out the theater room playing the new Swap console that had come out. Vlad called it a delayed Christmas gift to both Dan and Danny, even suggesting they invite Tucker and Sam over to try the thing out. Their friends didn’t need much convincing.

Before the explosion, Dan would not have considered himself bad at video games. He had played plenty of Doomed with his Tucker and Sam, but the amount of free time dwindled as ghost attacks had ramped up. And now, ten years later, it was sufficient to say that Dan was out of practice. Even more so with anything resembling a controller… of which he had already fried two of.

They were stuck doing duo battles now because of his loss of temper. They had managed to turn it into a tournament, though, with Sam keeping track of it as she was the final contender. Dan had forgotten how good she was at everything. 

“So that’s another win for Danny.” She was recounting, checking something off a notebook. “Next match is Dan and Tucker; winner goes to the semi-finals.”

“You can just forfeit now, Dan.” Danny tells him, leaning close enough for Dan to bite his nose off. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Sam, what’s his win-loss ratio?”

“Uh,” She flipped a page. “Zero to ten.”

“Come on man, he could still win.” Tucker says. “Maybe his beginner’s luck is just lagging behind.”

“Sure, maybe.” Danny’s smile is testing the limits of Dan’s self control. “But even if he did, he’d have to go against me again. And with his track record against me? The odds aren’t looking good.”

While it was true he may not have won a single round today, by the way Danny said it, Dan knew that the ghost boy was referring to more than just the video game. His core bubbled, and a small red glow reflected in Danny’s eyes back at him.

“Y’know, I’m starting to see why Vlad never found that very intimidating.”

Sam leans around Danny to see what he’s referring to. “Ah, yeah, you get used to it after a while.”

“It usually just means that there’s about to be a problem we’ll have to clean up.” Tucker holds out a hand placatingly towards Dan. “Dude, please don’t break another controller.”

He wasn’t even holding the controller! They kept sharing quips with one another, their voices scratching across his nerves. He doesn’t even realize he was now looking down at them, having floated halfway up to the ceiling.

“Did you guys come here just to make fun of me?” Dan’s voice is filled with rage, the sizzle of his ghost accent licking at the tail of each word.

They look up at him for a moment - a moment of blissful silence - before Tucker shoves Danny’s back. 

“See? I knew the ‘being annoying’ thing could work to bring back ghost powers.” He puffs his chest out with pride, looking up at Dan far too excitedly for someone with an easily crushable windpipe. “Quick dude, can you shoot a beam?”

“Wait no, hold on, don’t do that.” Danny is quick to speak up, voice high with acute panic as he sees the red outline around Dan’s hand. “Geez dude, get back down here.”

He floats up a couple inches to grab Dan’s ankle, tugging him back down to the chairs. Dan can still feel his fingertips bubbling with power as confusion begins to creep in past the anger. He has enough of himself together to grab the armrest of the chair to keep himself from floating away again, Danny’s hands hovering for a moment just in case he does.

“Do I need to get some balloon string to keep you anchored?” 

“Danny.” Sam’s voice cuts through the rekindled flare of anger. “Cut it out, he’s obviously not understanding.”

“Dan, we’re just joking.” Danny clarifies, sitting back and giving Dan his personal space back.

“Joking.” Dan’s voice is flat when he says it.

“Some competitive jabbing?” Tucker supplies, peaking back around Danny into his peripheral. “Y’know, like friends do?”

Something surrounding his cores unfurl, and he can feel when the ghostly energy recedes back into a near nonexistent murmur deep in another him’s chest. The red glow on Danny’s face disappears.

“Oh.” He says simply, sinking down into his chair as undoubtedly a different kind of red floods over his face. He hopes the lights are low enough they can't see it.

---

Amity Park mall was a place he hadn't thought he would ever return to. It was one of the first places he destroyed in his timeline; something else replacing it after the ghost shield was put up. Now he stood in front of it, bundled in a spare coat Danny had given him and snow melting in his hair.

Vlad had insisted he go with the four of them, and Jazz had eagerly seconded the idea.

“I can give you some spending money.” Vlad had offered, setting two mugs of steaming tea in front of the teenagers before settling down in front of his own. “Maybe you can find some clothes you like.”

“Clothes? Why would I get clothes?”

“Your closet currently consists of random hand-me-downs from Daniel and a couple of, I’ll admit it, sloppily altered pieces of my more casual attire. It wouldn't be bad to have some things that are truly yours, little viper.”

“Yes!” Jazz practically launched out of her chair. Dan quickly reached over to keep her mug from tipping over. “Self expression is incredibly important! Not to mention, you’ve been cooped up in here for months."

“Hey, I've gone outside.”

“The balcony or courtyard don't count.” He gave Vlad his best glare.

Needless to say, as he stood in the cold with Danny and Jazz, he lost the argument. 

“There they are.” Danny waves down the two missing people in their group, Tucker and Sam carefully navigating the icey sidewalks over to them.

“Sorry, had trouble finding a parking spot that Tucker wasn't scared of.”

“I'm not risking sliding into another car!”

Dan did his best to suppress another shiver as they snickered to each other. “Yes, well, you're here now. Can we please go inside?”

“Wow, it must be bad if Dan is saying ‘please.’” Sam teased, following him as he waddled towards the automatic doors.

“Yeah, what's wrong, can't handle a little cold?” If Dan’s hands didn't feel like popsicles he’d smack that stupid grin off Danny’s face.

They spent the first hour window shopping; Dan helped drag Tucker away from a scammy tech showcase, and gagged when Danny bought Sam a stupid cartoon ghost keychain with the phrase “You’re my boo” engraved on it. He was kind of surprised when Sam clipped it onto her bag with no hesitation.

“All the good clothes stores are on the second floor.” Jazz told them, practically corralling the younger teenagers to the escalators. 

They barely got off the elevators before Sam was insisting they stop in the Goth Scopic with the argument: “It technically has clothes!”

The gloomy store had some video game merchandise, and a couple of interesting knickknacks that kept Tucker, Danny, and Jazz busy while Sam showed him the most normie of the fashion items, looking at some of the edgier options on display for herself. He thumbed through the racks, picking out a couple of T-shirts from bands he recognized, and a belt he found cool. Things for me, he had to remind himself. Sam helped him check out his items, and then Jazz railroads them to the Kacy's department store.

Where the Goth Scopic was small, dark and compact, the Kacy’s was large, bright and overwhelming. The amount of choices at every turn threatened to suffocate him, and he didn't know where to even start.

Luckily, the others are there to guide him. They take him to the men’s section, each holding up different clothing items for his consideration. Sam and Tucker bicker over what aesthetic fits him better, before Danny steps between them and announces that he knew exactly what his alternate self would like. Dan always picked one of the others just to see Danny sputter in increasing exasperation. He about combusts in embarrassment when Jazz asked what kind of underwear he preferred, insisting extra pairs were always important.

He’s alone scanning the racks, the others spread out amongst the area but far away enough for him to have lost sight, when someone else speaks to him.

“Well if it isn't Fenton.” Dan can't place the voice at first, something like recognition itching the back of his brain. He doesn't get to turn around before a large hand presses down on the top of his head, someone looking over him and at the pile of clothes draped over his arm. His assailant grabs one of the top articles, a dark green button up, and snorts, the sound nasally and annoying. “You changing your wardrobe or something? What, your girlfriend finally turn you into an emo freak?”

It's the pronunciation of that final word that clicks it all into place. He manages to turn his head just enough to confirm his suspicions.

Of course it's none other than Dash Baxter. Dan had forgotten the jock was alive in this timeline.

Behind Dash, Dan can spot a couple other people from his troubled high school experiences. Kwan was here too, with Star attached to his arm.

“Get your hands off me.” Dan kept his voice low, trying to shift away from him. It's been years since he had to deal with Dash and he has a feeling it won't end well if the guy decides to push his buttons.

Dash just leans heavier onto Dan’s head, nearly toppling him into the clothing and causing his neck to ache. “What was that?” The lilt of Dash’s voice was already getting drowned out by the rage building in his head. 

Right. He’s remembering why he had killed Dash so quickly in his timeline.

Dan is about to snap something to the teenager, hands itching with energy to put a hole through the guy's stomach, when he is yanked away from underneath Dash’s hand. He’s instead pressed up against a different body, head spinning as he does his best to orientate himself.

“There you are.” Danny’s voice is tight, nervously chuckling as he wraps an arm around Dan’s shoulder.

“Whoa, there’s two Fentons now?” Kwan asks, wonder in his voice. Danny’s arm nearly threatens to choke him with the quiet, inhuman growl in Dan’s throat.

“Oh, hi guys. I see you’ve met my cousin, uh,” Dan can practically smell the smoke from how hard Danny is thinking. “Phil! Yes, Phil. My cousin Phil. He’s visiting from Wisconsin, and we thought we’d show him around Amity.”

Dan’s annoyance easily shifts from the group of bullies to Danny. Phil? That's the best name Danny could come up with? A fake name wasn't even necessary! Danny just shoots him an apologetic glance, tense smile in place 

“Cousin?” Star asks, pointing a perfectly manicured nail between Danny and his clone. “You guys could be, like, twins.”

“We get that a lot.” Danny is slowly inching them backwards and presumably towards the rest of their own group. “My dad’s family’s genes are really strong.”

“Oh, gross.” Dash’s nose crinkles at the idea. “Like that's what the world needs, more Fenton freaks.”

Danny’s laugh is short and unbelievable. “Yeah well, uh, it's been great chatting but we should get going. See you Monday!” He quickly twirls Dan around and starts walking, arm still firmly around his shoulders.

Dan gives it about two seconds before he’s trying to pull away from Danny, the arm not budging. “Why are you still touching me?”

“Because I don't trust that you aren't going to go back there and make things worse for me.” Danny bites back, voice low for only Dan to hear.

“That wouldn't be possible if you weren't a pushover.” 

“Dash isn’t worth the effort.”

“Isn't worth the effort or is he just another part of your obsession you can't fight?”

Danny finally lets Dan pull away when their group is within eyesight. They walk the rest of the way to where they are hovering by the changing rooms, Dan looking through his selections again to make sure he didn’t drop any.

“Why do you two look so pissed off?”

“He’s a coward.” Dan says at the same time Danny says: “He’s a magnet for trouble.”

Dan rolls his eyes, heading towards a changing room. “By the way,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If anyone asks, my name is Phil.”

He disappears into the changing room before anyone can question him, hearing the muffled sounds of Danny stuttering through an explanation.

Dan picks out a couple of outfits worth of clothes, plus a winter coat so he can give Danny his obnoxious red one back. He has two large shopping bags he has to lug around now, and he is feeling what Sam has called his “social battery” running low. He does his best not to let his feet drag on the ground, and hums his responses to the group’s conversation.

He mumbles a goodbye to Sam and Tucker, and almost slips walking back to Jazz’s car. He settles against the cold leather of the back seat, relaxing further when the AC finally turns warm. Danny and Jazz are still talking in front of him, but he doesn't listen, eyes falling closed.

He jostles awake when Danny claps in his face. It doesn’t take much for Dan to tip his balance from where he's twisted back from the passenger seat, Danny's arms waving as he does his best not to fall.

“We’ll let you get inside and rest.” Jazz tells him, wearing a soft smile that he finds is easy to return.

He yawns as he walks inside the Masters Mansion, shopping bags crinkling. He makes a beeline upstairs to flop onto the bed and falls back asleep.

A hand gently shaking his shoulder is what wakes him this time, the moon shining into his window. “Little viper?” Vlad’s voice filters into his waking brain. 

Dan pushes himself up from the pile of drool forming on his comforter, cringing as he wipes his face clean and then rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah. Hi, Vlad.” He yawns. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight.” He was out for three hours then. “I'm assuming your little shopping trip tuckered you out.”

Dan grumbles something about it being Vlad's fault he went in the first place, the words only half coherent. He reaches for the shopping bags anyways, pulling out some of what he got.

He isn't quite sure why he feels inclined to show off his purchases to Vlad - maybe because he paid for them? - explaining the different combinations Sam helped him put together and some of the goofier accessories Tucker picked out for him. He tosses the packs of socks and underwear that Jazz insisted he get to the side, skipping to the band T-shirts instead. 

He doesn't realize Vlad barely made any comments until he is standing to leave. “There are some leftovers in the fridge I made earlier if you’re hungry.”

“You cooked? I didn’t smell smoke when I got back.”

“That’s because the stove was not needed for this recipe.” Vlad looks far too proud of himself. “And the chances of it giving you food poisoning are as low as possible.”

“Fills me with confidence.” Dan shuffles out of bed anyways, the mention of food waking up his stomach. 

Vlad excuses himself for the night, Dan watching him disappear into the lab, as his ward took the stairs down to the kitchen. He found the leftovers pretty quickly, a couple of lettuce wraps in a plastic container. He leans over the island as he eats, grabbing his phone from where it had sat in his pocket. The charge was low, as to be expected, and Dan was about to place it on the charger to be forgotten until morning when a text caught his eye.

He taps on it, and a group chat titled “Timestream Squad” opens up. The first message was from Danny and it was a picture of Dan asleep in the back of Jazz’s car sent around the time he got dropped off.

[4:42 PM] Ghost Whelp: think we wore him out guys

[4:45 PM] Tucker: LOL he is gon kill u dude

[5:03 PM] Jazz: Danny, you shouldn’t be sending these kinds of pictures without permission!

[5:05 PM] Ghost Whelp: chill out sis it’s just us here

[5:18 PM] Sam: At least he’s peaceful

[5:20 PM] Sam: OH Dan 

[5:20 PM] Sam: You should totally send us pics when you wear the clothes

[6:52 PM] Jazz: Geez, I guess we did wear him out.

[6:56 PM] Ghost Whelp: or his phone died again

[7:05 PM] Jazz: Danny where are you?

[7:06 PM] Jazz: I went to your room and you weren’t there.

[7:09 PM] Jazz: It is a school night you better not be on patrol.

[7:13 PM] Jazz: Danny answer my calls.

[7:14 PM] Tucker: ooo some1 in troubleeee

[7:17 PM] Sam: Jazz do you realize you’re in a groupchat?

[7:24 PM] Jazz: Oops!! No I didn’t!! 

[7:26 PM] Jazz: Do you guys know where Danny went?

[7:43 PM] Jazz: You guys totally went on patrol!!! Stop ignoring me!

Dan huffs a laugh, popping the last bite of the wrap into his mouth and typing away.

[8:23 PM] You: real rude of them

[8:23 PM] You: didn’t even invite you

Immediately they all start typing, and he almost chokes on his food as he laughs. He hits his chest through a few coughs.

[8:24 PM] Tucker: HE LIVES

[8:24 PM] Jazz: Dan sorry if we have been spamming you!

[8:25 PM] Jazz: It wouldn’t be necessary if SOME PEOPLE would answer me!

[8:27 PM] Sam: Hey dude yeah sorry for the spam

[8:27 PM] Sam: Happens with big groupchats yknow

[8:29 PM] Jazz: Are you guys still ignoring me?!?!

Dan shakes his head at their antics, deciding to unplug the phone charger from the kitchen wall and bringing it back upstairs with him. He has to move one of his bedside tables to reach an outlet, but he sets his phone to charge while he gets out of the clothes he wore out. One shower and fresh clothes later, he was laying in bed, phone illuminating his face and thumbs moving along the keyboard. 

He smiles, and his cores feels warm.

----

END NOTES:

The mansion the majority of the fic takes place in is Vlad’s mansion in Amity Park. Shhh, it’s my fic and I make the rules. I am not having poor Jazz go to Wisconsin every day after school.

The entire AGIT ending also affected people knowing Vlad is a ghost.

Purpose and obsessions are used interchangeably in this fic. 

Regarding “Little Viper”: I originally was going to use Little Leopard, as I liked the sound of it and I thought it was fitting for him to be referred to as a big cat known for his camouflage (predator, aloof, pretending like he doesn't want love, blending in by using a clone). But when I asked people on Tumblr for what Vlad would call Dan the most common suggestion was something along the lines of “Serpent” or “Snake.” I decided to go with Viper, specifically because while Vipers are still predatory animals, they are also the prey of badgers.

A compromise: breakfast muffins