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The police call it a textbook case. Tucker doesn't blame them. They don't have all the facts. All they see is a bullied kid with neglectful parents.
Tucker watches as uniformed officers remove the yellow crime scene tape. Danny's body has been moved to the morgue. One of the officers, a tall man with thick blond hair, notices Tucker gaze. He seems to recognize the techno geek as the dead boy friend. He lays a hand on a fellow officer who had taken steps toward Tucker. The blond says something Tucker can't hear from so far away. Probably telling him not to bother that teenager on the swing set. He not hurting anything and he isn't too close. Besides, he was the victim's best friend; you should have a little pity.
Tucker watches as the second officer backs down. They resume the decimation of the crime scene. The place where Danny died. Tucker imagines the blond guy continuing to speak, not about the dead boy or his friend, but about the weather or the broken coffee maker or that strange vigilante ghost boy's disappearance. This is normal to them. Just a day in the office. An office made of the trees that line Amity's playground where a fourteen year old boy was killed himself, but an office all the same. It's normal to them. Mundane. Routine.
Daniel Fenton's death was ruled as a suicide. Tucker knows that is far from the truth, but there isn't any evidence against it. Danny was found dead with a gun in his hand and a bullet in his head. No fowl play suspected. Especially when one looks at the dead boy's family. The parents work all day in their silly lab. They didn't notice that boy's depression. The dead boy had been bullied at school. He only had three friends and lousy grades. Pity he's dead though. That girlfriend of his loved him so much.
None of that is true, Tucker thinks as he leans back in the swing. Danny's parents loved him so much. When they thought Danny Phantom had kidnapped their son Jack and Maddie Fenton torn down the streets, trying desperately to find him. Dash had picked on Danny. Bullied him, yes; there was no other way to wrap it, but Danny could have ended it had he really wanted. But he hadn't because Danny was a hero. Danny hadn't been depressed. Exhausted and paranoid at time, perhaps, but Danny loved his life and his grades were only bad because he tried to balance teenager things with ghost hunting. It didn't work out, but Danny had tried so hard.
Tucker kicks off the ground and swings higher and higher, but it's never high enough when Tucker remembers falling from tall buildings or floating in the ghost zone or flying with Danny.
Danny; the boy will never asked Sam out. He will never ask her because he'd been killed by an enemy who owned a human gun.
Tucker thinks the gun might be the reason he, Sam and Jazz haven't solved the murder. Danny had plenty of ghostly enemies. But who would have killed him with a bullet to the head?
The police say Danny's fingerprints were the only ones found on the gun.
Tucker jumps off the swing and lands on his feet with a thud. He finds no thrill in the action. The police have moved away. Nothing is left in the place where Danny had died. The only thing the killer left for them is questions.
The police call it a textbook case. Sam hates them for it. Danny hadn't killed himself. She burns with hatred these days. There is hatred for the ignorant police, her surprisingly helpful parents, Danny's killer and herself. Danny had been so clueless, but she'd never told him anything. Danny used to juggle school, bullies, ghost fighting, family, puberty and ghost powers. Any sort of feelings Danny might have held for her would probably take the back seat.
Mr. Lancer paces at the front of the classroom, talking animatedly about the morality in Lord of the Flies.
Sam will never know Danny's feelings for her and always regret it. She hates herself for being a coward. Her parents guessed what Danny meant to her. Her grandmother knows for certain. Sam doesn't want to be treated like glass.
Lancer pauses as his eyes fall on her. He can tell she isn't paying attention. She slouches in her chair and her textbook is opened to the wrong page. He passes her without comments, however. At least she is better than Tucker. He hasn't even shown up for school.
Sam doesn't want to be in school, but she wants to prove she isn't broken or helpless. It is a stupid reason. Next time she is going to ditch, just because she can. Her cell phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out, uncaring of Lancer's frown. Caller id informs her that the text is from Tucker.
"Crm scene clr," it reads. "Chck out in 20 min?"
Sam texts back one letter.
"K."
She can't wait for the bell to ring. She will ditch the next class for a good reason after all. She might seem broken, but hatred is giving was to fear. If the police hadn't found anything, why would she?
They don't know to look for supernatural fowl play, she tells herself. She and Tucker do.
The bell rang, loud and clear. Sam is one of the first out the door. Lancer shouts something after her, but she doesn't stop.
She races down the halls and outside, the school's double doors banging against brick walls behind her. Sam planned to walk to the park, but spots Jazz's car loitering by the curb. Danny's sister isn't expected back in school for another week. There is only one reason for her to be there.
Sam swings open the car door and sits down heavily. She tosses her spider backpack behind her.
Jazz frowns. "Buckle up."
Sam slouches farther down the passenger seat.
Jazz glares.
Sam grudgingly buckles her seatbelt.
"That's better," Jazz says and hits the accelerator.
It is like old times hunting ghosts, Sam thinks. Only this time, we're going to meet Tucker without Danny and Danny won't be there to help.
Sam clenches her hands into fists. She isn't broken, but all she could think of now is her mother's voice from earlier that morning begging her to keep safe at school and not to get into trouble. Her mother had such a tender, hopeful look that Sam hasn't seen since she was in first grade.
Sam misses Danny. Hatred melts into fear as they approach the park. How can they beat something that had bested Danny? But she owes it to Danny to try.
Maybe her parents weren't wrong when they treat her like glass, but Sam thinks it is too late. Sam is already heartbroken. Shattered.
But none of that matters if it means finding the one who took Danny away.
The police call it a textbook case. Jazz disagrees. She had spoken as frankly as she dared with them. Danny was picked on at school, yes, but he had really good friends and herself and their parents.
Her parents, they asked?
It had all gone downhill from there. Misunderstandings about Danny lead to misunderstandings about their parents and the next thing she knew there were accusations and threats. Jazz is living at her friend's house for the weeks between the funeral and the trial. Some people were surprised that there was a funeral at all. Suicide has a way of making people uncomfortable.
Jazz focuses on the road before her. She tries to ignore the distress and grief that rolls off Sam like rain from thunderclouds. It is strange, being with her little brother's friends without him there to diffuse the tension. She pulls into the parking lot of the playground and parks near the slides.
Sam steps out, slamming the car door behind her. Jazz sighs and crosses her arms over the steering wheel. She rests her head in her arms for a brief moment, wishing for patience with Sam and the bravery to investigate the place where Danny died.
Four seconds pass (Jazz counts them) and she steps out of the car after Sam. They walk in silence over to Tucker who waits by the trees. The place where Danny died is a small wooded area that separates Amity's playground with another town to the west and Axion Labs to the far north.
Tucker tells them what he saw that morning. The police milling about, removing the tape and some gossip he heard. He leads them to the exact place where Danny's body had been found.
"What do we do?" Jazz asks. "What are we looking for?"
Sam looks annoyed at her question, but doesn't speak.
Tucker pipes up helpfully, "Blood or ectoplasm. I think the police would have found and cleaned up any blood. They might have missed ectoplasm, though. Keep an eye out for any Fenton weaponry."
He pauses, thinking. Sam has wondered off in search of a trace of blood or sign of a struggle. Tucker continues, "Look for any scorch marks on trees or the ground from stray ectoblasts. Um, there might be abandoned ghostly artifacts if the killer was clumsy."
None of them think the killer is clumsy, though, but she doesn't say anything. Tucker prattles on, Sam doesn't speak and Jazz does her best, but isn't sure if she helping.
This is what we have come to, Jazz thinks. Tucker has the drive, Sam won't talk and Jazz is just confused.
Tucker finds a few stray drops of ectoplasm, but it doesn't hold any obvious answers. There isn't that much; just enough for a bad paper cut. Jazz isn't sure if that's a good or bad thing. Sam finds what might be a scorch mark on a tree, but it is too high up to check. Jazz, however, is the one who finds the most important clue.
Far from the crime scene, past the broken rock wall, down by a trickling creek and half covered in mud Jazz finds the ghost gauntlets. She doesn't recognize them, but the Tucker and Sam do.
Tucker says they look similar Fenton tech, but the design seems off. He's not sure, he will check. Sam doesn't say anything, but her eyes burn with some unknown emotion. Jazz knows the gauntlets are somehow significant, but nobody knows quite why.
When Jazz was younger she would ask her mother question after question and her mother would give all the answers she could. Now, Jazz misses that. She wishes they could bake cookies and Jazz could ask her mother why and how her brother died.
Now Jazz isn't allowed to even speak to her mother until the court day. She has never been as confused as she is now.
The police call it a textbook case.
A touch can save a life or end it, Vlad muses as he thumbs through a book. He doesn't think this one will be of any help. He doesn't think anything will help. The problem is to far gone. Separating the two would cause more harm than good.
Daniel Fenton dedicated his life to saving people. It wasn't his touch or his fingerprints on the gun that killed him. The police ruled it suicide. Only Vlad and Daniel himself know the full irony of whole situation.
Vlad sets aside the book and checks his watch, all the while thinking of the boy who had not killed himself. There had been another boy named Daniel. He had the same messy hair, the same bright blue eyes and even the same fingerprints. But this boy was human. If he'd had a last name at all (which he didn't) it would have been Masters.
He was an unsuccessful clone. Fully human, but Vlad had grievously underestimated the boy. He regretted it with an intensity that rivaled the heat of the sun. Daniel's clone was quite a bit like him in terms of personality. Vlad noticed the same passion, the same strange brilliance and the same resourcefulness. He was (or is, Vlad wasn't sure) just a bit ...darker than Daniel Fenton.
That should have scared him. Vlad hadn't thought the human clone would survive an… accident in a ghost portal. That had been the way he and Daniel had gained their ghost powers. Vlad didn't think it was worth the risk. The clone was valuable, if only for study purposes.
Yet the child wasn't happy with being cast aside. If Vlad is honest, he will admit to regretting his attitude. Then again, he regrets the entire cloning affair from the girl Danielle to the once-human boy.
The clone had been desperate and resourceful enough to think of a way. The clone lured Daniel from his house to the forest. He brought with him the ghost gauntlets and a handgun.
It is a horrible story. Vlad hated his part in it, even if he'd gained what he once thought wanted: a half ghost son. The boy who used to be Daniel Fenton had staggered back to Vlad's house in a panic. He didn't know who else tell what he had done.
Or rather, what had been done to him.
"I stole Danny Fenton's ghost half. I shot Danny Fenton in the head," the child declares, scared and proud at the same time.
Vlad only stares, uncomprehending. He doesn't understand. He doesn't know what to say. He drops his wine glass onto his desk. It shatters and spills and stains his paperwork red.
"I was destabilized. I was dying," he continues, oblivious to Vlad's growing horror.
"You were?" Vlad interrupts. "What about the real Daniel?"
He nods. "I'm both. I'm Daniel. I'm Phantom. I'm real the Danny Fenton and the clone. But I'm not him. I killed him ...he killed me. I tried to overshadow the clone after Phantom was ripped out, but I couldn't, I melted inside me."
The boy's garbled explanation makes little sense, but the sinking feeling in Vlad's chest tells him that nothing good will come of this mess. The clone had... killed Daniel. And stolen his ghost half, Vlad surmises. The Daniel before him is the result of the meld of consciousness.
This will not end well.
Daniel drops to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest. He hides his face in his knees and runs his hand though his hair. "Vlad. You have to help me. I don't know who I am!"
The police call it suicide. Vlad calls it irony, but in a way, they weren't too far from the truth.
The police call it a textbook case; a simple suicide. Danny doesn't know if he should laugh or cry. In the end, Danny can't bring himself to care because he doesn't even know who he is. Is he Daniel Masters or Danny Fenton?
Is he the victim or the killer?
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