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“Now do you understand?” one of the two Observants beside Clockwork asked upon pausing the scene in the time window.
“Yes,” Clockwork said. “Danny Phantom grows up to be the most evil ghost on the planet. What do you want me to do about it?”
“You’re the Master of Time, Clockwork. Isn’t it obvious?” the other Observant asked, clearly irritated.
“Hmm… Is it, now?”
“Yes!” the first Observant said. “Take care of the problem!”
“Very well,” Clockwork agreed. “Now, out with you both.”
Once the two left, Clockwork opened a time window and removed a colorful rectangular box from a kitchen cabinet in a different potential timeline. He looked at the name of the product on front, then smiled as he decided, “Yes, you’ll do.”
“So, what’s this ‘surprise’?” Danny asked Tucker as he slid into the table at Nasty Burger with his tray of food; Sam and Tucker were already there, both with their own trays seated across the table.
Sam shrugged. “Gotta ask Tucker that; he refused to tell me until you got here.”
“Okay, get ready for this,” Tucker said, grinning as he reached into his backpack and pulled out…
“Cereal?” Danny asked, puzzled, as Tucker held it up.
Tucker glanced at it. “Oh, sorry,” he said, flipping it around so Danny could see the name. “Not just any cereal; Phantom-O’s!”
“What,” Danny said flatly, staring at the thing. The box, already opened, had a picture of Phantom’s face on it; from the picture of the bowl of cereal on it, it appeared to be a standard sugary o-shaped cereal with small marshmallow ghosts and faces of Phantom. Danny raised an eyebrow at his best friend. “Okay, Tucker, I know you think I, quote, ‘need to improve my PR’, but cereal? Yeah, no.”
“This isn’t me!” Tucker said. “I found this at the grocery store! It’s pretty good, too.” He popped the box opened and grabbed a handful. “Try some.” He held the opening towards Sam.
Sam instead grabbed the whole box from Tucker, then turned it to look at the ingredients and nutrition facts. “Ugh, pass,” she said, then handed it to Danny.
Danny looked at the box, then shrugged and took a small handful. He ate it, then determined, “It tastes like a knock-off Lucky Charms.” He then took a sip of his soda to wash away the taste.
“Well, yeah, the novelty is that it’s Phantom cereal, not some haute cuisine,” Tucker pointed out. “But, that’s not all…”
“Oh no; there’s more?” Danny said with mild horror as Tucker began taking things out of his backpack. Lots of things.
“Yup!” Tucker said, then showed them each thing. “You have Phantom Taffy, Phantom Fruit Gummies, Phantom sticker sheets, Phantom pencils, Phantom notebooks, Phantom glitter pens, Phantom keychains, a Phantom action figure, and this cute little Phantom plushie!”
“Okay, I did not authorize any of this,” Danny said, then took a bite of his hamburger.
“So? It’s awesome!”
“The plushie is kinda adorable,” Sam said as she examined the papaya-sized doll, her own veggie burger apparently abandoned. “A little derpy looking, but cute.”
“It’s illegal though, right? Since it’s my face being used,” Danny pointed out.
“Not sure that law applies to ghosts,” Tucker said.
“Why not?” Sam wondered. “I mean, the dead still have certain rights. Usually their estate manages those but why can’t a ghost do so too?”
“Makes sense. But, who would we go to?” Danny asked. “The police?”
Officer Fox Scully sat at his desk tiredly processing some more property damage reports from ghost attacks. They never ended in this town! He vaguely wondered if it was bad that sometimes he hoped that something more interesting happened; it was, of course, a good thing that most incidents in this town were technically minor, and required no investigation, but it was just so monotonous!
“Officer Scully,” the secretary greeted him.
“Hmm? What is it?” Fox asked gruffly.
“There’s someone who would like to speak to an officer more privately,” the secretary told him. “Room 124.”
Fox perked up at that. “Of course, I’ll be right there!” He grabbed a notebook, report form, and pen, then hurried out of the ‘bullpen’ and down the hall to the aforementioned meeting room.
Fox wondered what the report would be. People usually didn’t mind sitting at a regular out-in-the-open desk to give their reports if it was just property damage or other lesser things. Private ones usually were to report on more serious matters, ones that perhaps the reporter was embarrassed about or were sensitive in some way… That, or it was just one of the rich snooty residents of Amity Park who feared gossip.
Impossibly, it was neither.
Fox paused in mild confusion as he entered the small meeting room, which was set up with a six-person rounded rectangular table and comfy rolling chairs. He closed the door and slowly sat down on the side absent people and placed the notebook down, staring at the three people seated across from him. All three looked high-school age. There was a scrawny Black boy in a red beanie, a pale girl dressed in gothic fashion with her black haired in a partial ponytail, and in-between them was a white-haired kid in a black spandex suit with white gloves. His eyes glowed a toxic green, and his entire being emitted the faint glow typical of ghosts.
“Phantom,” Fox said in disbelief. “I, er, didn’t expect you to… Oh, sorry, my apologies, I’m Officer Scully—”
“Oh! Like that old TV show?” the human boy asked excitedly.
Fox sighed. “Yes, like that. There’s zero relation, I swear—complete coincidence. Now,” he said, flipping his notebook open and clicking his pen, preparing to write. “What are your names? I know Phantom of course, but you two are a mystery.”
Phantom spoke, voice echoing as it tended to do. “This is Sam, and this is Tucker,” he said, gesturing to one and then the other. “They’re my friends.”
“Okay. So, Sam, Tucker, Phantom—or do you prefer Danny?”
“Phantom’s fine,” Phantom said.
“Alright. So, Sam, Tucker, Phantom, what brings you here today?”Fox asked.
Sam answered that. “We want to sue someone for illegally using Phantom’s likeness in order to profit from merchandise sales.”
Fox paused. “You want to… sue someone?”
“Yes, for illegally using Phantom’s image.”
“I have examples in my bag,” Tucker supplied, pulling a backpack onto the table and turning it upside down. Out of it fell various Phantom-related products, including a box of cereal.
“I didn’t give my permission for any of this,” Phantom told Fox. “I may be dead, but that still doesn’t give them permission to use my likeness.”
“Okay… I suppose that is true…” Fox said. “Frankly, though, I’m not sure if you legally can bring a claim, Phantom.”
“We looked into that,” Sam said. “The law says it can be either the person in question or the estate representing them filing the claim. It does not state whether the person filing the claim must be alive or not.”
“That’s not the issue,” Fox told them. “I have no problem with a ghost filing a claim like this. The issue, however, is that you are a minor. You must have an adult representive—if not a parent, then a legal guardian.”
Phantom blinked in surprise. “I… How do you even know I am? For all you know I can be a hundred years old!”
“But you’re not. You’re 14. Born July 13, 1990,” Fox said, trying to keep a straight face.
“H-how do you know that?!” Phantom sputtered.
Fox couldn’t help but grin as he revealed, “Amity Park has traffic cameras, and you are not that subtle about those transformations of yours, Fenton.”
Phantom squeaked in surprise, eyes wide… and vanished.
Sam sighed and reached over, using a fist to hit downwards, right where Phantom’s shoulder should be. Phantom flickered back to visibility, blushing green.
“Sorry. My powers, er, act up sometimes,” Phantom mumbled, looking at the table. “So, the whole police force knows I’m…?”
“Not everyone,” Fox assured him. “But there’s a fair number of us tasked with reviewing footage and deleting any instances of your transformations. Chief knows too, of course. Gotta admit, though, we’re awfully curious about it…” He wasn’t sure how much was okay to ask.
He did have to ask, though; frankly, they needed to get to the bottom of this mystery. Phantom may have the ability to shift into a more human form, but ultimately was a dead child; everyone knew the latter, given that was simply what a ghost was. What no one knew, though, was how that had happened—but given his secret identity, the police weren’t sure how to go about investigating that, regardless of how much they needed to. And they did need to—a kid of Amity Park was dead, after all, and even if he stuck around, whoever caused it ought to be properly punished.
Phantom sighed, then a bright circle of light formed around his waist before splitting and moving up and down him, leaving the black-haired blue-eyed Danny Fenton in his place, no longer glowing. “I’m only half ghost,” he revealed, voice no longer echoey. “Or, well, that’s what we’re calling it. Honestly, no one’s really 100% sure what happened? I, er, accidentally turned the portal on while inside it, our best guess is that the electricity combined with the ectoplasm simultaneously killed and revived me at the same time? Or, partly revived me?”
Okay, amendment: kid wasn’t fully dead, somehow. But he did mention he had died, albeit revived after. So someone was still responsible—and whatever this ‘portal’ thing was, Fox would confidently bet that it was one of the strange and apparently dangerous experiments in the Fentonworks lab, which a child should not have had access to.
“So you have a full ghost form and a full human form?” Fox confirmed. “It’s not just an illusion?”
“Eh, yes and no,” Danny said. “It changed my DNA. I’m not really either a ghost or human, I don’t think. It actually does seem to mostly be just a visual change, but neither form is actually fully one or the other. Human form does partially mask my ecto-signature though, which lets me get through ghost shields and avoid weaker trackers, which is nice. And makes gravity the default. But other things don’t change, like both forms have a ghost core, a heartbeat and a weird ectoplasm-blood mix, cold temperature, and don’t need to breathe. Oh, and my ghost powers work in both forms. So, honestly we’re not quite sure what I really count as?”
“Fascinating,” Fox couldn’t help but say, then switched to a more serious expression; he had to confirm his suspicion. “So, you said a ‘portal’ caused this? Am I correct in assuming this is one of the ecto-experiments in your parents’ lab, in the basement of the home you live in?”
Danny frowned. “Well, yeah, but—”
“That’s irrelevant to why we’re here,” Sam interjected. “Also, his parents don’t know he’s Phantom and you can’t tell them!”
Fox sighed. “Yes, we all figured they don’t know. The difference between how they treat each form is too great. But for their own invention to have, well… Tell me why I shouldn’t contact CPS.”
“CPS?!” Danny proclaimed. “Why would you do that?!”
“Your parents allowed their child, who I’m assuming was 14 at the time given we only started seeing Phantom a few months ago, access to a dangerous lab, alone—”
“We were there too!” Tucker asserted.
“Okay, three children, access to a lab, presumably alone, wherein one of those children ended up being killed by that machine, even if it revived him too. Is this type of unrestricted access typical or no?”
Danny scrunched his brow in confusion. “Well, yeah? One of my chores is cleaning the lab? Has been since I was, like, six or something.”
“Danny!” Sam chided, apparently understanding what Fox was getting at even though Danny seemed blissfully unaware—too much so. “Don’t tell him that!”
“Why not?” Danny asked.
Fox paused a moment. “You’ve… been tasked with cleaning a laboratory since you were six?” He’d never seen the lab before, but some of his fellow officers had after reports from worried neighbors about explosions, and from their descriptions of it… Well…
“Look, we’re just here for the copyright thing, or whatever it’s called,” Sam asserted. “Stop asking about his parents and home.”
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t a matter I can leave alone,” Fox said truthfully. A child’s safety was possibly at state.
“What matter?” Danny asked, still confused.
“He suspects your home isn’t safe for you,” Tucker gently explained.
“What? I mean, yeah, there’s the ghost traps I have to dodge sometimes, but they don’t know I’m a ghost, so that’s not on them. Same for the weapons that misfire when they’re working on them. And, ecto-contaminated food doesn’t make me sick anymore, so that’s fine too. I’m as safe as I can be.”
“I’m sorry, but you need to dodge ghost traps and weapons in your own home?” Fox asked incredulously. “And, ecto-contaminated food? Danny, you can’t say that looking at all this objectively, you wouldn’t be concerned if it were anyone else.”
“But it’s not anyone else, it’s me,” Danny said testily. “Anyway, can we get back to the reason we’re here?”
“Sure thing,” Fox said, deciding to return to this later when he could speak to Danny without his friends there, then returned to the paperwork. “Now, what did you say this company was that you want to sue?”
Danny grabbed the box, then frowned as he examined it. “There’s no brand listed.”
“What? That can’t be true,” Tucker said, grabbing the box and examining it himself. “Wait, there is; it’s in the fine print on back. ‘Clocktower Inc.’.”
“‘Clocktower Inc.’? Never heard of them,” Sam said.
“Maybe it’s a new brand?” Tucker suggested. “Fine print doesn’t have an address or anything, just a weird disclaimer about the company not being liable if food from a different realm doesn’t agree with you.”
“Must be a typo,” Sam said. “Maybe it’s imported from China or something.”
“Why would China know about me?” Danny wondered.
“Either way, in order to sue them, you’re going to need to know more details than just the brand name,” Fox pointed out. “If we can’t get in contact with them, there’s not much that can be done.”
Mira Sonnenschein shuffled through some folders of her desk as she waited for her final appointment of the day—well, final-final appointment, that is. Her typical day schedule was supposed to be 8am to 4pm, yet it was now 4:15. Why Fox had called her so late requesting an immediate emergency appointment was beyond Mira; he was just lucky she had still been in her office! She had reminded him that there explicitly was a night shift for emergencies, but he wanted specifically her for some reason.
There was a knock on her door, and Mira called, “Come in!”
Fox Scully entered the room, a kid in tow.
“It’s about time, Fo—Officer Scully!” Mira said as she stood up, arms akimbo. “You called ten minutes ago for an immediate appointment! The precinct is literally four floors below; the elevator couldn’t possibly have taken that long!”
“Apologies, Mira; the kid was reluctant,” Fox told her as he closed the door. “He doesn’t trust people easily. Eventually he agreed to come though.”
“Yeah, because you threatened me!” The black-haired boy accused.
Mira shot Fox a glare.
Fox simply sighed. “All I said was that if he didn’t come now, a more official investigation would need to be opened, which may or may not reveal certain things he does not want revealed. It’s the truth.”
Mira frowned. “‘Official investigation’? So this isn’t official?”
“Well, it is but it isn’t,” Fox told her. “This here is Danny Fenton, and his situation is a little… unique, let’s say. We need to do an investigation, but without revealing the entire extent of the situation…”
“And what is that situation, and why is it secret?” Mira wondered, having a feeling that this would be unlike anything she’d had to deal with before. She knew of the Fentons; everyone did, especially in her line of work. The parents were quite eccentric, and many of the social workers wondered if the children were safe—but they couldn’t investigate without proper cause, and unfortunately ‘gut feeling’ wasn’t a proper cause.
“Officer Scully says you’re sympathetic to ghosts,” Danny said, “Particularly Phantom. Is this true?”
“Yes; he’s a Hero,” Mira said instantly. “He saved the entire town from that giant wannabe king ghost that dragged us into that creepy other dimension a few weeks ago; I don’t know how people can still think of him as a bad guy after that! Not that I ever did, of course—he saved my life!”
“He did?” Danny asked, looking surprised.
“Yes. The very first time I saw him, in fact; a dragon ghost attacked the mall, and if Phantom hadn’t knocked it away… Well, for all I know I wouldn’t be here anymore.”
“Even during that whole thing with Freakshow she didn’t waver,” Fox said warmly. “She noticed those red eyes, and insisted that it was either an impersonator or some type of mind control.”
“Oh,” Danny said quietly. “That’s… not many people thought that, at the time. Lots of people still don’t believe that it was Freakshow controlling things, even though the police confirmed it…”
“Right. So—oh, wait. My name first. Danny, I’m Mira Sonnenschein, but you can call me Mira, okay?” When Danny nodded, Mira continued, “Let’s all sit down, hm? We’ll use the couches.”
Mira’s office had not just a standard desk with chairs, but also a small sitting area, a trio of couches in a U-shape surrounding a small coffee table. Danny opted to sit in the corner of one of the side ones, so Mira sat in the corner of the adjacent couch. Fox opted to sit on the boys’s other side, a respective distance away, understandable given that the kid seemed extremely on-edge; crowding him too much might cause him to become even more jumpy, as Mira had learned throughout her years as a children’s social worker, and then lawyer, for CPS.
“Now, what brings you here?” Mira asked kindly. “And what is this mysterious ‘situation’?”
“I died,” Danny said bluntly.
Mira blinked. “What?” She assumed she misheard.
“I died,” Danny repeated.
“And came back!” Fox hurriedly added.
“Partly,” Danny amended. Then he more properly explained, “I’m a human-ghost hybrid. Happened a few months ago.”
“That’s one of the reasons why we’re here,” Fox said.
“A… human-ghost hybrid,” Mira repeated, processing that, then a horrified realization occurred to her. The two were awfully eccentric, true, but child experimentation? She tepidly asked, “Danny, did your parents do that to you?”
“No!” Danny asserted.
“Yes,” Fox said simultaneously.
“Not intentionally,” Danny amended.
“Doesn’t matter; it was still their experiment,” Fox told him.
“By the gods,” Mira whispered.
“It was my fault!” Danny hurriedly told her. “I was the one showing my friends the lab, I was the one that accidentally turned the thing on, my parents don’t know. It’s not their fault!”
Fox sighed, looking as though this wasn’t the first time he’d told the kid, “It’s not your fault. Your parents left the lab unsupervised with children having full access despite dangerous experiments being inside it. They left the portal plugged in. The entire situation would have been avoided if they followed basic lab protocol by shutting down and sealing off unstable inventions when not actively working on them, and restricted you from being in the lab without supervision, as they should have done. Instead, they gave you free reign, and have even had you cleaning the place as a standard chore since you were six!”
“Oh my,” Mira exclaimed. “Six? Please tell me that, at bare minimum, that was supervised.”
Danny looked confused. “Why would it be? It was just cleaning, not experimenting.”
“Dangerous chemicals,” Fox said.
“I wore gloves.”
“It’s still not a chore a kid should be doing, let alone alone!” Fox sighed. “Anyway. Mira, if you can believe it, the hybrid factor isn’t the trickiest part of this situation, or even the most secret part…” He looked to Danny.
Danny took a moment to answer, but then admitted, “I don’t look like this all the time. I can change my appearance to look more like a ghost. One that everyone knows.”
“One that everyone…?” Mira trailed, looking at Danny’s face, seeing if she could figure out which he resemb—
Just as Mira realized which famous ghost Danny was, a ring of light circled him, split, and then moved up and down, changing him into the ghost known as Phantom.
“Oh,” Mira said. “Yes, I can see how this might make things more complicated.”
Judge Cherry Bonzai (yes, that’s her real name, as she always tacked on when introducing herself; her parents were a little eccentric) stared at the group of people in front of her. One was Officer Fox Scully, one was a lawyer with CPS named Mira Sonnenschein, and the third was the lawyer the Fentons had on retainer, Allison Weasel (they just caused so much property damage with their antics that it was actually cheaper to have a lawyer on retainer instead of hiring based on case).
“I demand the name of this ‘anonymous reporter’ be released!” Allison insisted. “The police have been gunning after the Fentons for years, everyone knows this. They could have easily invented this anonymous source to give them an excuse to search the house and find something to get them shut down!”
Cherry sighed. “Officer Scully, did you invent this source in order to search the house?”
“No! Of course not,” Fox said. “Is it true the department doesn’t like the Fenton adults? Of course; that’s not a secret. But would we make up a source? No!”
“Besides,” Mira interjected, “This is a CPS matter; the search was exclusively by CPS agents in order to determine the safety of living conditions for children.”
“Again, that is still illegal if no one real reported the concerns!” Allison argued.
“It is a sensitive matter,” Mira said. “The souce wishes for anonymity for safety reasons.”
Cherry considered that, then decided, “Allison, please leave; I will speak to Officer Scully and Mrs. Sonnenschein in private, then make a determination.”
Allison frowned. “But, Judge Bonzai—”
“Miss Weasel, you heard me; please leave.”
“Yes, your honor,” Allison muttered, then brusquely left. Cherry was glad for that; she had half expected to need to threaten to charge the young lawyer with another ‘contempt of court’ charge.
“Now,” Cherry said to the two remaining. “What ‘safety reasons’ can there be for keeping the souce hidden? This is a family case, not a criminal one.”
“No but it should be,” Fox muttered.
“What was that?” Cherry asked sharpy. Was there more going on than they were telling her?
Fox winced. “That’s, ah…”
“Tell the truth,” Cherry ordered.
“Well, our source is… not quite human,” Mira revealed. “That’s why it’s so secret.”
“Not human?” Cherry asked, slightly confused, then it clicked. “Your source is a ghost.” Cherry considered that. Things definitely became tricky in that case. “There’s no legal precedent for a ghost filing a report. Nor is there is precedent for ghosts testifying as witnesses. Is this ghost a trustworthy one?”
“Yes,” Mira and Fox both said confidently.
“And how did this ghost obtain the knowledge of the situation?” Cherry asked.
“You’re wondering about illegal entry,” Mira realized.
“He was legally at the home,” Fox confirmed.
“A ghost was legally invited into the Fenton’s home?” Cherry asked skeptically. Well, a fair number of the ghosts commonly seen around were teenagers; maybe one had befriended the children?
There was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” Cherry called.
“Sorry,” Danny Fenton said as he entered the room, then closed the door. “I, er, overheard the conversation from the hallway chairs…”
Cherry blinked. “What? That’s not possible.”
“It is for me. The source is Phantom.”
“Phantom,” Cherry repeated.
“Yeah,” Danny said as he joined the group at the desk. “So you see why you can’t tell my parents.”
“But, what was Phantom doing in your home?”
“Well…” Danny looked to Fox and Mira and asked, “How sympathetic is she to ghosts?”
“Very,” Mira said. “Phantom saved her life once, too.”
Cherry sighed. “Yes, he did. But that doesn’t mean I can ignore the law. If he was tresspassing—”
“I wasn’t tresspassing,” Danny said. “I live there.”
“What?” Cherry asked. “But you’re… oh. I see,” she said, blinking the flash of light from her eyes that changed Danny Fenton into Danny Phantom. “This… changes things.”
Mira sighed. “I guess this does help our case—his parents’ neglect caused this.”
“It wasn’t neglect,” Danny argued.
“By all definitions it was!” Mira argued back.
“Okay. Full story, now,” Cherry demanded.
“Nothing in the case is false,” Mira stated. “Yesterday evening we learned from a confidential source that the Fenton household was unsafe for the children, then an investigation was performed, including an interview with the children during their second school period today followed by a home search—Judge Mars signed the warrant for that. Upon examining the home and interviewing the children, we determined the home is indeed unfit for a child, and now wish for a judge’s signature to approve temporary rehoming until the Fenton parents readjust their home to our specifications. The only reason they even have a lawyer here is because she happened to be at the home during the inspection, helping them file patents; technically, she shouldn’t be involved at all at this stage.”
“Yes, I am well aware,” Cherry said. “Trust me, I will be talking to her about that. But, that’s the official story. What’s the part you’re not telling me?”
“Their neglect killed Danny,” Fox said simply.
“I came back!” Danny argued, then shifted back to his… human? form.
“Only partially,” Fox amended.
Mira sighed. “I’ll explain,” she said, then did so.
Cherry listened to the story, all three of them chiming in at various points, with incredulity. It was so out there! Yet somehow, Cherry was not surprised. She was also certain that she was going to sign that order to remove the children, and add an extra stipulation that all ghost-related experiments, including that darn security system, remain exclusively inside the lab (which was to be child-proofed)—no child should be worried about their own house’s security system shooting at him! She was also definitely not going to tell Allison the identity of the ‘anonymous source’.
“Wait a second,” Fox then said, once all the discussion was done. “Danny, shouldn’t you be in school right now?”
“Umm…” Danny turned to the clock. “School ended at 2:20, so no.”
Mira crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at the boy. “It’s only 2:40.”
Danny winced. “Okay, so I might have been really really nervous and couldn’t focus on school so I ditched last period and flew here to see what was happening…”
Cherry watched the following discussion on school responsibility that occurred between the two adults and Danny, who she now knew was Phantom. He was just so young… Yes, she was definitely going to help fix this kid’s home life—well, half-life.
William Lancer, teacher of Casper High School, made his way into the police precinct, a little unsure what he was doing there. Usually CPS simply called William and then brought the kid or kids to his house, rather than being vague and asking him to come here for an interview beforehand.
William was a registered foster parent, although he hadn’t fostered a kid in a few years—he specifically was registered to assist high-school age students on a short-term basis, and sadly high schoolers tended to intentionally hide that they needed help so most in the foster system had been there since they were younger. William wondered if this time it was any of his students; sometimes they were, but sometimes they were from neighboring schools, such as Elmerton High or Amity Park Prep—usually the former, given it was a public school, whereas the latter was a private school (parents who could pay its high enrollment fee could usually pay for good lawyers too).
When William got the call he had just gotten home, having stopped by Nasty Burger on the way home from the school. He’d just finished putting the CAT test answers in his safe when they called, and had immediately put all other plans for the day on hold—a child needed him.
Once the elevator deposited William on the 5th floor of the government office building, he turned left and entered the main office of CPS.
“Can I help you?” the secretary asked.
“Yes; I’m here for a meeting with a ‘Mira Sonnenschien,” William told her. He hadn’t recognized the name; she must be newer. “I was called about twenty minutes ago, around 3:30pm, requesting I get here asap.”
“Ah yes; room 514,” the secretary said. “Do you need an escort?”
“No, no, I know where it is,” William said, then made his way there and knocked on the door.
A woman answered, and William noted that it was a small meeting room that could seat maybe 6 people around an ovular table. An officer was sitting there, too. “You must be William! I’m Mira,” the woman greeted. “Please, sit.”
William sat, as did Mira; he noted that the lawyer and officer were on one side of the table with him on the other, almost like an interrogation. They had paperwork and some files on the table.
There was a sudden chill in the room; William wondered if he could ask if the heat could be turned up, then thought better of it.
“This is Officer Fox Scully,” Mira told William.
“Call me Fox,” the officer said as William shook his hand.
“William,” William returned. He withdrew his hand. “May I ask why we’re doing an interview? Is it because it has been a few years since I fostered?”
“No, it’s not that,” Mira said. “There are just… special circumstances surrounding this child. We need to make sure that the foster parent is a good fit and won’t be biased.”
“Biased? Oh. Is the child gay?” That was the only reason William could figure; he’d fostered children of all different races before, as well as some with physical disabilities, so they ought to know he wasn’t biased in either of those ways.
“No,” Mira said. “Or, I guess we don’t know, come to think of it—that isn’t an issue, is it?”
“I assure you, that is not an issue for me. Nor would a transgender child be an issue.”
“Good to know; we’ll note that in your file,” Mira said, as she did so.
“It’s fairly late, and Mira’s shift is over soon, so let us get to the questions,” Fox said.
“Gladly,” William replied. “What do you wish to know?”
“First, what are your thoughts on Amity Park’s recent ghost problem?” Fox asked.
“The ghost problem?” William repeated, unsure why that was relevant. Perhaps the kid was either fiercely sympathetic to ghosts or vehemently against them, and didn’t want someone with the opposite view? William answered honestly, “I’d like to think I’m neutral on it. Plenty of ghosts cause problems, but plenty just mind their own business, too, or even do good.”
Fox looked curious at that. “Good, you say? Could you provide some examples?”
“Well, Phantom is who immediately comes to mind,” William told them. “He saved the entire town. He captures the ghosts that cause trouble. There have been some times where he seemed to engage in some shady things, but he’s ultimately a kid, is he not? We can’t expect him to be perfectly well-behaved. Overall, he has done more good than harm.”
“I see, I see,” Fox said, taking notes in his own notebook. “Now, have you ever amicably interacted with a ghost before?”
“Actually, yes,” William said honestly. “There is the ghost of a child from the 1950s who resides at Casper High, Sidney Poindexter. I became aware that he occasionally will observe classes, and have spoken to him a few times.”
“In what capacity?” Fox asked. “As in, do you allow him to observe classes, or were you telling him not to?”
“Oh, him observing is not an issue,” William said sincerely. “He just seemed lonely, and I thought he might want someone to talk to. We’ve talked mostly about school-related subjects; he had fascinating insights into the novel ‘A Catcher in the Rye’.”
“Good to know,” Fox said. “So, based on that, I would assume you do not report ghosts to the GIW, particularly child ones?”
“Goodness no,” William quickly answered. “That organization is barbaric! It truly ought to not be in this town.”
“Good, good… Okay, now how would you handle a child with unique challenges? Such as, abilities that differed from other kids?”
“Well, I’ve previously fostered more than one child with different abilities, and have always been willing to accommodate them,” William said. “I even have a wheelchair lift that can be installed if needed.” He wondered if perhaps this child was injured in some way from ghosts.
“Apologies; we don’t mean physical abilities,” Fox said. “More like… metaphysical.”
William scrunched his brow in confusion. “Well, I did foster one with autism, and multiple kids had various mental—”
“No, no, not that either. Let me rephrase; I mean… paranormal abilities. Things that humans wouldn’t usually have.”
“Like, when that ghost illness was going around, and the students got ghost abilities? That type of thing?”
“Yes, but not from an illness, intrinsic.”
“You’re making it sound like this child is an actual ghost,” William joked with a chuckle. When neither reacted with amusement, rather glanced between each other, William realized that that actually was the case; all the questions about ghost perception made sense now. “Oh. The child is a ghost…”
“Something like that,” someone said, and then Danny Fenton appeared out of nowhere. Literally. Nothing was there, then suddenly the boy was seated in the chair at the table’s end closest to Mira. William blinked, unsure what he just saw.
“Danny!” Fox said chidingly. “What have we told you about invisibly eavesdropping?”
“...Don’t do it?” Danny said sheepishly, then said more defensively, “Can you blame me though? This is about me! And I know Mr. Lancer. He’s my teacher. I just had to know what he said, good or bad.”
Oh. Danny was… the ghost? The ghost child that needed help? And he had been listening in on them, invisibly?
“Oh! If you already know him, that’s easier!” Mira said happily.
“Well, he’s been my student for three months,” William said. The kid didn’t like to open up much to adults though, so William didn’t know as much as he knew about other students, even with all the parent-teacher conferences that had been needed—his sister, on the other hand, was the opposite. Then, the full brunt of the matter hit him. William felt his eyes widened. “Wait. You’re a ghost? You… died?” His student was a ghost. His student had died. How? When?! Was this why he needed temporary rehoming? Had his parents…?
“Only part ghost,” Danny corrected. “I did die, but I came back.”
“What do you mean by part ghost?” William couldn’t help but wonder, feeling some relief but not a lot. He was calmed, though, by how casually Danny spoke; if the one who died wasn’t worried, why should he be? There was still some internal panic of course, but William was easily able to push it aside for now.
Danny, Fox, and Mira then explained the entire situation, to William’s increasing incredulity. The biggest thing he struggled to believe wasn’t the hybrid ghost aspect, rather the fact that Danny’s parents, self-professed ‘ghost hunters’ with PHDs in ectoscience, considered Amity Park’s top experts on ghosts, still had no idea that their own child had died and been revived in their lab and was now part-ghost, even after months. Danny secretly being Phantom wasn’t even that big of a surprise in retrospect; the context clues had all been there, William simply hadn’t caught them the first time.
“So, are you okay with taking in Danny and his sister?” Mira asked when all was finished.
“Yes, of course,” William easily agreed. “Two weeks, correct?”
“Correct,” Mira said. “That’s how long the parents said it would take to get the house adjusted to our specifications, although it may take longer. Once they do, we will re-assess, and if things seem safe the children can return home. Then we will do monthly check-ins.”
“And remember, mister, if they try installing more ‘unregulated prototype security systems’ that hurt you, you let us know,” Fox told Danny sternly, then said softer, “Remember, we’re on your side, kid.”
“I know,” Danny said with a small hopeful smile.
“Good. Now, go find your sister and get your things while the adults do some paperwork.”
“So, you’ve fostered kids before?” Danny asked curiously as he and Jazz followed Lancer into his modest townhouse.
“Yes,” Lancer revealed. “Specifically, I do emergency temporary housing for teenagers, as that fits perfectly with my work schedule. I have a bedroom with two twin beds set up for it, though it has been a while. I hope you two are okay with sharing a room.”
“Of course,” Jazz said politely.
“I guess if I have to,” Danny said with a sigh, then smiled at Jazz’s offended look. “Joking, Jazz. Joking.”
Learning that his sister already knew he was Phantom had been a big relief for Danny; he’d been the most worried about her thoughts on things, half expecting her to have a panic attack while he explained. Retrospectively though, he should have realized the she knew, given the shocking number of times she’d covered for him and defended him unprompted, as well as her sudden obsession with ghost psychology and an attitude opposite their parents. Plus all that weird poking and prodding the days following the Spectra stuff, along with that camping trip last weekend where she was so insistent that Danny be the one to go find help. Her confusion when Danny used the Fenton Ghost Catcher on himself the weekend before that made a lot more sense, too.
Unlike the panic Danny expected of Jazz, the explanations had instead calmed her, as apparently she had thought he was a full ghost for two whole months yet still protected him. Talk about a loyal sibling! She had definitely been happy to discover that Danny was not 100% dead though, which was definitely better than everyone else’s sad and horrified reactions—well, she was still horrified when told about the accident itself, but still.
Jazz had also helped convince Danny that agreeing to work with CPS was the right thing to do. Danny had still been very skeptical during their interview earlier that day, but Jazz assured Danny that it would be for the best—if everything went according to plan, home would be safer for Danny when they got back. Officer Scully and Mira both said similar, and Danny had to admit it would be nice not to worry about the house attacking him or being hurt by broken weapons accidentally being fired as his parents fixed them in the kitchen. Jazz being able to eat without worrying about contaminated food would be good too. Maybe Danny even wouldn’t have to worry about his parents using unorthodox equipment on him, either, like they did a week prior with that centrifugal machine when Youngblood had them thinking he was crazy.
Jazz also advocated for Danny to actually tell their parents about being part ghost, but Danny was adamantly against that. He had no idea how they would react! They were always talking about wanting to dissect ghosts, and always talked about how they wanted to capture Phantom most of all; what if they decided that studying Phantom was more important to them than being Danny’s parents? Danny loved them, and knew they loved him, but he just wasn’t sure if that love for him would transcend their love of studying ghosts. Officer Scully and Mira understood the worry, and offered to be there to help if Danny ever decided he did want to tell his parents.
If only there were some way to see the future! …There probably was a ghost that could do that, actually. There were a lot of ghosts with fantastical abilities that Danny would have never dreamed could exist in reality, like Ember using music to cast spells, Youngblood only being visible to kids, or Desiree and her wish-granting magic… Well, Desiree probably could do it, come to think of it, but Danny didn’t dare try to ask her for a view of the future.
The other mystery was who exactly was behind ‘Clocktower Inc.’, since even with Tucker’s amazing hacking prowess and even the police working on it, no one could find any clue. It was like the company simply did not exist outside of the merch sold in Amity Park. A review of the finances only led to an offshore account in a country that, from what everyone could tell, did not exist. There weren’t even records of the things being shipped from anywhere. It was so strange, but the case had to be dropped until they found who led the company, and honestly at this point Danny felt it was too much of a hassle to bother with continuing to search.
Lancer showed them to the bedroom first, so the two could put their bags down. As Danny exited, he gave a start as something brushed against his leg. He looked down to see a black cat.
“Ah, yes, this is Shadow,” Lancer told them as he bent down and picked the cat up in his arms, cradling him like a baby. Right, Lancer had told them he had cats, to make sure no one was allergic. “He’s the friendliest one. Snowball and Princess are a bit shyer; they’ll likely be hiding from you the first few days, but as long as you don’t scare them they should warm up to you.”
Danny started to reach to pet the cat, then paused. He’d never had a pet cat before, or a pet in general unless you counted Cujo the ghost dog, and wasn’t quite sure of the protocol.
“It’s okay, you can pet him,” Lancer said. “Just let him give you a sniff first, and everything should be fine.”
Danny did so; the cat sniffed his hand, then he bumped his whole head on Danny’s hand. Danny gave a small start of surprise, then grinned and pet the cat on its head as the cat was demanding. The fur was so soft! It was completely different from Cujo’s.
Jazz joined in too, and the cat began to purr. “Mom and Dad never let us have a pet before,” she explained. “The closest we got is that ghost dog that Danny sometimes plays with. Mom and Dad always said the house was too dangerous for animals.” At Lancer’s surprised face, she added, “Yes, I know how that sounds, given the circumstances.”
Lancer put the cat down after another minute of petting, and the cat meowed in a tone that Danny was certain meant he was displeased at the loss of attention. The bedrooms were on the second floor, and as they made their way downstairs Danny examined the photographs that lined the hallway and walls of the staircase.
“Are these all kids that you fostered?” Jazz asked.
“Yes, they are,” Lancer told her.
“Who’s the other guy that’s in them?” Danny asked.
“Ah. That’s Joseph. He was my…” Lancer hesitated for some reason. “Roommate.”
“What happened to him?” Danny wondered, noting that Lancer looked a bit sad.
Lancer closed his eyes. “Joseph was a salesman. The corporation he worked for held a week-long business conference at their headquarters in New York City, which he attended.” Lancer opened his eyes, looking at one of the photos, tears in the corner if his eyes, to Danny’s surprise. “Their headquarters was in the World Trade Center, and the conference ran from September 10th to 14th… 2001.”
“Oh,” Danny said as he realized.
“Sorry for your loss,” Jazz said softly.
“Me too,” Danny said.
“Thank you,” Lancer said as he attempted to subtly wipe the tears away. “Apologies; let’s continue the tour.” He hurried off and the two teens followed.
After showing them the rest of the house, Lancer made some dinner, just some simple boxed mac and cheese with tuna—Danny noticed that Jazz started to inspect it at first, then seemed to realize that in this place there was no need to worry about the tuna reanimating, and happily began eating. Danny watched her in amazement; he hadn’t realized just how nervous the ecto-contamination had made his sister around homemade food.
“Hey, wait,” Danny said, realizing something. “I just remembered—at the assembly this morning, didn’t you say the CAT answers would be ‘handcuffed to you at all times’ or something?” He looked at Lancer quizzically.
Lancer chuckled. “That was only for optics, Danny. I find that dramatics like that can really help drill in how important the test is. They are safely locked away elsewhere.”
“The test is really that important?” Danny asked quietly, feeling worried. Earlier he was more concerned about having to be at the police station and meeting the foster parent, but now that that was done he could actually think about the test. His forkful of pasta phased through his hand and clattered to the table; he looked down at it. “Oops.”
Jazz picked up the fork and wiped it with a napkin before handing it back to Danny and then wiping up the spilled pasta. “His powers act up when he gets really nervous,” she explained to Lancer.
Lancer frowned. “You’re that nervous?”
Danny nodded. “Of course,” he admitted. “If this test can determine whether we succeed or whether we’re flipping burgers our whole lives, what happens if I fail…?”
“You won’t fail,” Lancer said confidently.
“But what if I do?”
Lancer sighed. “Technically speaking, you can’t actually fail. It is a vocational battery, meant to show what areas you’re strong in and which you aren’t, which can then help you decide which career fits you best and decide on elective classes that will help with what you plan to do post-high-school. Doing well in an area might open opportunities with certain companies when it comes to internships and things, or cause certain colleges to recruit you, but it’s not the only path to those.”
“It’s also very limited in scope,” Jazz offered. “There’s many things it just can’t test for.”
“Yes,” Lancer admitted. “Artistic ability, for one. Anything requiring physical or spatial skills can’t be calculated either. Why, about fifteen years ago, there was a student who did poorly in every category, yet outside of school she was a gymnast and now she is a coach for an Olympic gymnastics team! The CAT could have never predicted that.”
“Then why do you stress its importance so much?” Danny wondered, feeling a little annoyed that he apparently had been worrying for nothing. “Everyone is really stressing out about it.”
“Well, we do want you to take it seriously,” Lancer explained. “If people treat it as a joke, they might not do as well as they could, and won’t realize they have aptitudes they weren’t aware of. For example, I had a student who got near perfect on the mathematical analysis segment, but it had never occurred to her that anything math-related could be a career path for her. Now she’s a successful actuarian.”
Danny swallowed a bite of pasta and frowned. “Then maybe just explain that to people? That makes sense. Kids will understand that. You don’t need to be giving people panic attacks over it.”
“You had a panic attack?” Jazz asked, suddenly on high alert.
“Not me,” Danny told her. Not yet, anyway; not ever, now that he knew it wasn’t such a dire thing. “At least, not about the test. But Brittany had one almost immediately after the assembly, Sam found her in the bathroom and had to talk her down from it.”
“Oh. Perhaps we may have over-stressed the significance, in that case…” Lancer trailed.
“Wait. Danny. Explain ‘not about the test’,” Jazz demanded.
Danny winced. “I was really nervous about this afternoon, okay? I knew they were inspecting the house today, and the judge would make the call… I had the panic attack, and then flew to the court house. Um. That would be why I missed last period; sorry, Mr. Lancer.”
“No worries,” Mr. Lancer said. “You had an understandable excuse, so I will give you a pass for that. And, call me William when at home, okay? Both of you. Still Mr. Lancer at school, but at home we can be casual.”
Danny grinned. “Got it, William.” Maybe things would all work out, after all.
Clockwork smiled as he watched the scene in the time window.
“Clockwork!” an Observant called, entering the room with a second one following, then demanded, “Did you do it?”
“Well, I certainly did something,” Clockwork said ambiguously.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” the second Observant demanded.
“We told you to kill him!” the first Observant insisted.
“No, you told me to ‘take care of the problem’,” Clockwork calmly explained. “Which, I did. Just look,” he told them, gesturing to the window. “There is Danny, taking the test without cheating. Crisis averted.”
The first Observant narrowed their eye at Clockwork. “How?”
“What did you do?” the second Observant fiercely asked.
Clockwork sighed. “You told me to take care of the issue, so I took care of the issue. Threefold, in fact: first, the boy was in a different place, thus did not accidentally acquire the answers, therefore he was not tempted to cheat based on convenience; second, the teacher now knows that Danny has ghost powers, making the risk of stealing the answers too great for Danny as there would be no doubt he did it; and third, in the days leading up to the test Danny stayed with his teacher, who assured Danny that he did not have to worry, therefore Danny did not panic to the point that he would even consider cheating in the first place.”
“How?” the first Observant again demanded.
Clockwork sighed in mild frustration. “I just told you,” he said. “Anyway, here; I know how much you enjoy human cereal. This is a new one that’s popular in Amity Park.” He handed the first Observant a box.
“Phantom-O’s? Is this a joke?” the first Observant demanded. The Observants demanded things a lot.
“Not at all,” Clockwork assured. “The existence of this cereal is a vital component of the timeline. Now, if that is all, I must be getting back to my work.”
Clockwork turned back to the time window, and the two Observants floated off, muttering to themselves; the sound of crinkling plastic could be heard as the box was opened, then the crunches of eating.
Clockwork could just barely make out the second Observant saying, “This is actually pretty good…”
“Really? It tastes like a knock-off Lucky Charms,” the first Observant grumpily replied.