Chapter Text
If he didn’t know any better, Danny would swear that Clockwork accelerates time the next few days. He returns home Saturday night to find his parents doing paperwork at the table. Not engineering plans or a new biased thesis. Paperwork. Jazz is standing at the kitchen entrance biting her thumb and when he meets her eyes they both know something’s happened.
Uncle Phil’s conspicuous absence along with the drooped shoulders of his parents tells him all he needs to know. He reminds himself to trust his Uncle, and takes a brave, loud step into the kitchen.
His parents look up and something breaks in Danny, because he can see something broken in them when they lay eyes upon him.
They cry. They apologize. They ask if he’s okay with them hugging him. Jazz’s eyes are wide as saucers. It takes another five minutes for the family to sit around the table and he learns exactly what Uncle Phil did, how their eyes were finally opened about how bad Vlad is, how much it hurts being here sometimes, how much he and Jazz have been neg–
He glosses over that. It’s not abuse. It’s not. They love him! And that’s why he-–and Jazz-–need to go.
“We’re gonna go through a lot of remodeling,” his dad says, “and it–-well, there are still some alarms set that we can’t fully deactivate; or well, really they don’t activate unless certain other self-defense systems fail–-really, it’s a genius way to trick those no good-”
“We just don’t want either of you hurt,” his mom interrupts. “So your Uncle provided a few suggestions for how we can better protect you two.”
Which is where all the paperwork comes in. Nearby apartment leases that Uncle Phil is willing to half-fund so his parents aren’t on the hook for all expenses. A hotel that works month-to-month to provide extra services like meal deliveries and some extra security–-Uncle Phil’s willing to pay that one entirely. There’s even a suggestion for Tucker’s family to take him in while Mister Lancer houses Jazz until she moves out to college.
Then there’s one off to the side, one his parents placed as far away as possible. One where they both leave with Uncle Phil and fall under his guardianship.
With the portal being sealed and Jazz leaving, there is part of him that’s tempted, but that’d also mean leaving Sam and Tucker. How could he abandon his friends? How could he leave Amity Park, where half the people hate him as Fenton and the other half hate him as Phantom? How could he abandon a place where he only feels safe at his friends’ house and the Nasty Burger? How…how do his eyes keep going to that lone paper?
It’s Jazz who slides it forward, silencing the debate of hotel food versus learning grocery shopping–-which Jazz mastered years ago, she did it nine times out of ten, come on mom and dad–-and causing his parents to look both wounded and betrayed.
“Danny needs a break, guys. Maybe finishing highschool away from the ghost trauma and bullies will help his grades.”
“But it’s so far away. And Phil travels. Sweetie,” his mom looks at him with a wobbly smile, “you don’t want to be…be moving all the time, right? So far from your parents?” To back her up, his dad is offering puppy dog eyes to rival Cujo.
And if it were any other day, any other time, Danny would’ve responded. Instead he fails to meet his parents’ gaze and hunches in on himself. He never had Dani’s urge to see the world, but as much as he’s uncertain how far to trust Uncle Phil, there is a part that wants to be…be as far from his parents as possible. For a while, at least.
Until they won’t shoot at him anymore.
“I’ll stay.” He twists in his chair to stare at Jazz. “I’ll take an apartment. It’ll be good practice for when I go off to college.” She grabs that paperwork, stapled with three apartment complexes within walking distance of downtown, the school, and Fentonworks.
“That’s perfect! You could share with Danny-”
“No.” There’s a note of finality, of the Jazz who stepped in as a parent when he was younger. She’s staring their parents down with steel and that Fenton determination that strikes them all sometimes. “If he wants to, he’ll get the chance to try it.” When she turns back to him, her voice is softer. “Make it a trial run,” she offers, “maybe three months? If you hate it you can come back and choose something else.”
Three months. Three months away. Away from Tucker and Sam and hanging out and movies and eating and debating vegan versus meat and playing peacekeeper and worrying about their safety running into battles and stepping in to stop Dash and–
His own lip wobbles as he picks up the sheet, looks at the proposal, the lifeline away from here, and isn’t even aware he’s crying until his dad goes, “Oh, oh son-–fudge! Lemme get you the emergency fudge!”
When he looks up, hugging the sheet to his chest, heart soaring and breaking all at once, he feels the tears drop and his mom’s face is just as wet. While the kitchen gets torn apart she just says, “My baby. I’m…I’m so…”
By the time the fudge arrives, it’s a table full of crying Fentons, and mixed with his exhaustion and apprehension is this huge sense of relief.
Sunday is spent with Uncle Phil over at the house. He walks through the arrangements with his parents, and a call schedule for while he’s away. While he packs his Uncle takes Jazz to see the three apartments, which she chooses none and finds a fourth because of course after the sobfest last night she then spent hours researching all the apartment buildings nearby.
When they return somehow he and Jazz convince his parents to do a preliminary shopping run for her new place. Once they’re gone, his Uncle just asks, “What do you need from downstairs to stay healthy and safe?”
Which means the next ninety minutes are spent distilling pure ectoplasm from the filter for him to occasionally drink, gathering some ghost tech to help his Uncle keep track of him–-including the infernal Boo-merang–-and a portal detector, since random portals to the Ghost Zone can happen anywhere and it’d be good if Danny could keep an eye on them.
Unlike his parents, Uncle Phil is in a full hazmat suit from, well, SHIELD probably with that branding. It’s both bulkier and more streamlined than his family’s hazmat outfits. It’s black and gray with piping that looks more stylish than any other protective gear he’s seen. He’s absolutely not jealous. Not one bit.
“We’ll be hitting Malibu, California first. I need to finish up an interview with a high profile contact.” There’s a slight hiss as he takes a deep breath. “I apologize in advance for the time it’ll take away from settling you.” He offers a half-smile through the protective headwear. “Think of it as a vacation before we find a place.”
There’s a part of him that thinks there’s the other shoe. That for all that he’s said, his Uncle is going to be just as bad as his parents. And he’ll be stuck in another household with an adult that forgets him.
“As soon as the assignment’s done,” his Uncle continues, “I’ll get the formal paperwork finished with my boss. It’ll likely be New York or DC we end up in.” Another hiss. “Though given the GIW personnel need interrogating, we might be in Rochester for a bit.” Another smile. “So we can make day trips to Amity Park occasionally.”
On the one hand, it does help the part of him that’s afraid to go too far from home. Even with the portals closed and Huntress doing his job, there’s still the chance things could get hairy with ghosts. Granted, it’s less likely to occur now, but given Fenton luck it’s likely. Plus he could see Sam and Tucker more frequently.
On the other hand, though, he isn’t sure he could take being ripped away from his home after visiting every weekend or so. And his parents, which would hurt worse? Them trying to apologize and make up for it and win him back home? Or them not even noticing when he comes to town except for the occasional meal?
He decides to change course and asks, “DC has the Air and Space exhibit at the Smithsonian, right?”
“Yup. And New York City has the world’s first space shuttle at the Intrepid museum.”
Both facts make Danny’s heart beat faster, and after a second he feels his Uncle’s eyes on him. “DC is just a train-ride away. Do you want to aim for the East Coast?”
He keeps his silence for a moment, then, “I think that...that if I’m going to really try leaving for a bit, I…I should.”
“I’ll let my boss know.”
On impulse he replies, “I get to meet him, right?”
Uncle Phil’s outfit makes a crackling sound as he straightens up. “You want to?”
“You’re asking me to t-trust you a lot, Uncle Phil.” Danny tilts his head up to meet the man’s eyes. “If I’m going to trust…trust SHIELD. I need to know…” He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. “I need to know who’s calling the shots.”
He expects pushback, expects to be talked down to, that his Uncle’s nice personality will crack. Instead the man nods. “He’ll be in LA when we land. To be honest, he’s wanted to meet you too.”
“Really?”
“You’re the first reason in a long time that I’ve put SHIELD on hold, and threatened to quit.”
“You threatened to quit?!”
“Well, a sabbatical.” Another hiss of air, and then his Uncle’s gloved hand is on Danny’s shoulder. “Letting you live your life safe is important to me. If seeing the Director will help you feel safe with me, then I’ll do it.”
He offers his uncle a strained grin. He…he still isn’t used to this. It still feels too good to be true.
He spends the last hours before dinner with Sam and Tucker at the Nasty Burger. He explains what’s going on as best he can to his best friends, trying not to blame their sometimes strained relationship as part of the reason for his decision. Tucker mopes and barely holds back tears. Sam is livid and hissing that SHIELD isn’t to be trusted. Then Val shoves her way in, glares at his friends, and demands, quietly, that she be let in on the situation.
Things get a little heated, but in the end he’s got Val linked up with Tuck and Sam to coordinate the ghost hunting–-if there’s any–-and keep an eye on Vlad and his parents. He lets Tucker put a new hacking and tracking algorithm on his phone and reluctantly accepts Grandma Ida’s credit card in case he has to run from ‘the fascist government thugs your Uncle obviously works for.’
He can’t sleep, so he spends the night on patrol. It’s practically symbolic, he’s not even sensing any ghosts about, but it’s…it’s his last flight around town for a bit. Red Huntress joins him and they go on a pseudo-chase like old times, but no shots are fired and it ends on the roof of Casper High with him lying on his back and her sitting on the edge.
“You’re really goin’?”
“I became a hero to fight the ghosts. No ghosts, no need for a hero.”
“That’s bull and you know it.”
“Yeah.” He traces constellations with his eyes. “But you had a choice, when you got your suit. And even after your dad found out, he was supportive.”
“Yeah, by grounding me,” she grumbles, but shifts awkwardly because he knows she knows he’s telling the truth.
Everyone knows what the Fentons want to do to Phantom. Hell, he’s leaving town without telling them because he’s so scared they’ll reject him, or try to fix him. Even with everything SHIELD is making them do.
“You actually trust him, the suit?”
“You’re the one working for him.”
“It’s a paycheck. And I might get to punch Masters.”
“That is a good deal.”
“Totally. Not sure I fully trust him or this SHIELD, though.”
Danny can feel her gaze on him and hums. “Not sure I fully trust them either. But if it’s an act, it’s a good act.” He pushes himself up on his elbows to face her. “I think he wants things to be better for me, and to have my back. That’s,” he bites his lip, looking away, “that’s a good start.”
There’s an awkward silence, followed by, “I’m sorry I didn’t have yours.”
“You couldn't have known the truth.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sure you're okay become the primary hero of the town?”
“Ghost horses couldn’t stop me.”
He snorts and is about to retort when blue mist escapes from his mouth and there’s a nightmarish neighing sound in the distance. He groans. “You just had to jinx it.”
“I got ‘em.” She slides off the building’s edge and her sled appears instantly, lifting her up. “See you ‘round, Phantom.”
Not really, not unless things with his Uncle go really bad. And that thought follows him as he drags himself to bed around four in the morning, only to be woken up a few hours later for a tearful, full on hugging goodbye for him and awkward handshakes between his parents and his Uncle before they’re in his fancy red car–-”Lola.”--and driving off to Minneapolis.
It’s only an hour drive, and then they’re ushered through a secure section of the airport and on something called a quinjet that is a lot more spartan than Vlad’s private plane and about as advanced as the Ops Center in jet form. About as fast, too. The normal four hour flight is practically cut in half, along with his attempt to nap.
It only seems like minutes later that he ends up in an office with Uncle Phil acting more official and less warm while a bald man with an eyepatch–-that reminds him a bit of Agent Alpha–-offers a stern, “Give us a second,” and closes the door. He can’t hear anything, which means the room is soundproofed, but glancing around it is an office. There’s a fancy desk, a very narrow window near the top of the opposite wall, and a couple bookcases.
And a cat.
Said cat is sitting on what Danny can only assume is a visitor’s chair. The chair itself doesn’t look very comfortable, but the tabby cat seems to like it well enough. That said, when their eyes meet, the cat’s tail flicks in a way his own does when agitated. Huh, “Well, cats are supposed to see ghosts or whatever.”
Still, the Director of SHIELD brings his cat to work? It makes Danny lean a little more towards the not-a-jerk field. With a small grin, he pulls up a little bit of ecto-light to play laser pointer with the kitty.
Only to suddenly be engulfed by enormous tentacles and eaten! By the cat! Was it a cat?! “What the hell?!” The tentacles release him once he’s inside a…well, some sort of pocket universe? He thinks? It’s enormous and all sides are just rows upon rows of tentacles wrapping around the entire space. It sounds a little sticky and feels gross. “Okay, never eating calamari again…”
He also realizes, after a moment, that he can’t…really…move. There’s oxygen, somehow, and it’s only because he’s a halfa he can feel his metabolism literally shifting into some kind of stasis that he decides, “Not today, freaky kitty. Going ghost!” His transformation seems to release him from whatever hold this place has on him and he can see the entire dimensional enclosure undulate as he transforms. “Yeah, don’t like the taste of that, do you!”
He does a quick recon, and finds that, well, he’s not the only person that’s been…eaten? Devoured? Transported? Something by the Director’s not-cat. Though…they don’t exactly look human…? There’s also other objects. Everyday items and some that make absolutely no sense to him. There’s also about a dozen laser pointers. “Waste not, want not,” he says with a shrug, collecting them.
The people…the people he might have to ask about. Part of him wants to rescue them. But some of them have gun-looking objects and, again, not ghosts, but not human either. Was this always the plan? To try and trap him in this not-cat? Is that what they do with non-humans at SHIELD?
No. No, he can’t start thinking like that. His Uncle would never do that. He is going to ask if should rescue the others, though. As soon as he gets out. “Exit, exit, if I were an eldritch kitty where would the exit to my horror dimension be…”
It actually isn’t that hard to find. He pokes the ‘walls’ of the dimension with a frozen hand a few times and suddenly there’s a gap in existence and he’s pushed towards the light–
He’s greeted with, “I can see why he should be a private Level 10 designation,” from the Director.
At the exact same moment his Uncle yells, “Danny!”
“Ugh,” he replies, because he’s out, but he’s also covered in cat gunk. So gross. He floats automatically from where he was–-was he puked out?!
“Goose,” says the one-eyed Director in a tired, scolding tone, “we don’t eat guests.”
“Really?” Danny lets intangibility wash over him and the cat stuff slides through him to the floor. His Uncle gives him a bit of a disapproving look, but no, he’s not cleaning it up. He got eaten by this guy’s not-cat! “Then who’re those other people in there?”
The Director lets out an irritated huff. “Some bad aliens that tried to invade Earth.”
Danny freezes in place. Aliens. Aliens. Actual ALIENS. He turns wide eyes on the two adults. “Aliens are real?!”
“You just got eaten by one,” the Director replies with a touch of amusement.
“Oh my Ancients!” He can’t help but glow brighter at that and, eyes burning bright green, he flips around to the now named Goose. “You’re an alien!”
Which results in Goose arching their back and Danny realizing two seconds too late turning laser-bright eyes on the alien cat is a bad idea as the tentacles drag him inside an impossibly huge maw a second time.