Ring, ring, ring.

There was so much blood, green and red mixing together in a nauseating swirl of everything they had ever loved and hated. Something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. It was supposed to be simple: shoot the ghost, collect the samples, protect the city. Protect her family. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be him.

Ring, ring, ring, ring…

Her phone was persistent and she answered in a daze, "H-hello?"

"Mrs. Fenton, this is Ms. Ishiyama from Casper High calling about your son, Daniel. He has once again skipped class—have you seen him?"

Her blood ran cold, fearful blue eyes boring into her own. Even through the tint of her goggles she could make out every detail, every familiar line and shape. The last traces of baby fat clinging to his cheeks. His rounded chin that would one day take on the same definition as his father's. The wide, slightly droopy eyes that she had looked into every day since the minute he was born. But it was still all so very wrong. This wasn't her baby anymore; this was a stranger in sheep's clothing.

"He… he came home. He's sick."

The principal's frown could be heard through the phone, "Next time, please follow proper procedure for taking your child home early. The rules are here for a reason."

"Yes, I'll make sure to pay better attention next time."

"Have a nice day."

"You, too."

The call ended with an abrupt beep, leaving her to stare at, at what? Her baby? An imposter? Nothing made sense anymore, and she couldn't find her voice to ask. Jack was uncharacteristically silent beside her, his eyes dark in confusion, but his gun didn't waver.

"M-mom, Dad," the boy managed to stutter, eyes flicking fearfully between the two, "I, I can explain, but I'm really hurt right now. Please, I promise I'm still your son, please, please, help me get home so I can fix this."

Sure enough, blood was still pouring out of his side at an alarming rate, giving his skin a pale hue and causing his hands to tremble. But that could've just been the fear. The fear of her.

Oh God, my own baby is scared of me.

Slowly, she reached out a hand to lower Jack's weapon and put away her own.

"Okay."

"So, what happened yesterday? Why didn't you return to class?"

Rather than answer, Danny gulped down the rest of his milk before crushing the empty carton. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to share—he knew they would probably freak out, but he knew he had to tell them something.

"Danny?" Sam asked, concerned by his silence. Her purple eyes were glued to his face, concern clearly written across her face. Tuck had paused in the middle of the mastication he called eating, a clear sign that he was worried. Danny suddenly found his food much more interesting, unable to meet their combined gazes.

Unable to prevent the nervous tick, Danny's hand nervously crept to the back of his neck, "Well, uh, my parents found out. About me."

Danny's eyes flicked up at his friends only to find their jaws had dropped, any pretense at eating long forgotten.

"What?! What happened? How did it go? Are you okay?"

The barrage of questions felt like a physical assault and Danny grimaced under the pressure; this is exactly why he hadn't been looking forward to telling them. He knew it came from a good place, but they were always so pushy. Don't get him wrong, he didn't think he could live without his friends, and he'd be forever grateful for their help those first two years when everything was new and strange and out of his control. But now that things had settled down and he was actually on top of things, he wished he could have a little space, that he didn't have to tell them absolutely everything that happened to him every day, every ghost fight. It was just too much, not that he knew how to tell them that. He felt claustrophobic. Contained.

Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and puffed out an impatient breath before replying, "They saw me shift. After about a million questions, they got it. They're not like comfortable with it yet, but they're not about to shoot me either. Or turn me over to the government. Or conduct 'lots and lots of painful experiments,' so I'm gonna go with 'it went well.'"

Sam's eyes searched his face suspiciously, "What aren't you telling us? How did they see you shift? You're usually pretty careful about that."

Danny couldn't entirely contain his combined annoyance and exasperation, "They shot me, okay? As Phantom. It's not like they knew better, and they apologized and helped patch me up once they figured it out. Can we drop it now?"

"Danny!" Sam looked horrified, "I can't believe they hit you that bad! How can you just say it's okay like that?"

Tuck looked upset, but lacked Sam's righteous indignation, instead looking back and forth between the two of them as if watching an intense tennis match. Danny was just annoyed.

"Please, like most everyone in my life hasn't tried to kill me at least one. I can think of plenty of times when you or Tuck accidentally caught me with a stray shot—besides they apologized. Isn't that what matters?"

"An apology isn't good enough," Sam was beginning to get worked up, clearly beginning a rant on the treatment of the oppressed and downtrodden, "They've been hunting you for two years now, not to mention that hit must've been pretty bad for you to have to shift like that. They've hated ghosts since before we were even born—how can you believe that decades of prejudice disappeared, just like that? You need to be careful, Danny; they may be your parents, but they're also ghost hunters. You need to make sure they really accept you as a person, that they're not gonna turn around and shoot you the first chance they get!"

The implications of Sam's speech hit Danny like a freight train and he couldn't stop his eyes from burning bright green, "They're my parents, Sam, not some heartless killers. Just because you hold grudges doesn't mean I have to; you have no right to tell me what I should or shouldn't feel. If I think an apology is good enough, then it's fucking good enough. I'm not some poor, oppressed victim. I don't need you to save me and I don't want you to try to! And guess what, Sam? As much as you may hate to admit it, I'm not human, haven't been ever since you convinced me to walk into that stupid fucking portal, so why don't you fuck off and mind your own goddamn business?"

Sam's eyes lit up with indignation, clearly pissed, but she pushed it aside, "You know what, Danny? I'm more than aware of exactly what you are, and I know that's my fault. And I'm gonna have to live with that. But that doesn't change the fact that your parents have hated beings like you for decades! I'm not saying they're going to do anything, just that you should be careful—I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to come to me one night, hurt, because they did something and you weren't prepared for it. I just want you to be safe."

Danny's anger cooled to an icy indignation, "Whatever, Sam. You don't have to worry about that because while your parents might not accept you, mine do. Don't project your issues onto me; I have enough of my own crap to deal with to mess with yours, too."

Sam's utter look of betrayal almost made Danny regret what he'd just said. Almost. Without another word, Sam stormed off, leaving her abandoned lunch behind on the table and shoving her way out of the cafeteria.

"Not cool, dude," Tucker finally decided to chime in, looking disappointed that Danny would go that far, "I know she was pushing too far, but she just wants to help. You didn't have to bite her head off."

Whatever guilt Danny had been feeling vanished at Tucker's reprimand, "You about to lecture me, too? Last I checked, it's my life and I can do whatever the hell I want with it. Besides, isn't my parents not trying to kill me a good thing? Why can't you guys just accept that maybe, for once in my life, something's going right?"

"Look, Danny, I'm happy for you, really. I hope that they've really accepted you and that everything will go great. But I also get what Sam's trying to say. She has a point that decades of prejudice don't just go away over night; we're just worried."

"Yeah, well I don't need your concern. Don't worry, you won't have to deal with me showing up at your door anymore. I've got better places to go, like to my parents." With that final declaration, Danny dramatically swept the remnants of his lunch off the table, chunking it in the garbage on his way out the door.

Oops.

I really didn't mean to start a new story rn, especially since I still have a lot I need to get done in CoE, but here we are. This idea has been floating in my head for awhile, and I finally had to start writing it down. It's not gonna be the focus of my efforts for awhile, but I'll prbly update sporadically until I finally finish CoE.

As implied in the summary, the reveal is only the beginning-it's all downhill from here.