The fight went… about as well as they could have expected. There were casualties, of course. It's war. People die. There were twists and turns as the battle shifted from one side to another, each group countering unforeseen obstacles and counters only to counter themselves a moment later. It lasted, over all, most of the night.

There were injuries as well, of course. Some only had minor wounds, while others were going to be permanently crippled and a small handful were still in critical condition and no one was sure how they would fair for now. Plasmius got out with barely a scratch on him and Phantom's arm looked like it was badly injured and the way he moved told Blinky that he had likely taken a bad blow to the side. (Did ghosts have ribs to break? Blinky decided that wasn't really his business right now.) Jim was also fairly well off. Hurting, yes, but most of it was bruising that would fade over time or the mild concussion from being thrown into walls. Claire and Toby were… surprisingly unharmed. Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Draal had been convinced one of them would be going to the human hospital by the end of the night. They had made very nice targets given how weak their fleshy bodies were in comparison to how much damage they could do. (Glass cannons, Blinky had called them, borrowing the term from human role play games.) Add to that how much the pair meant to Jim and they were very tempting targets.

The hours immediately following the fight were just as chaotic as the fight itself, if they were being honest with themselves. Clearing out and capturing the last of Gunmar's actual supporters. Treating the injured. Collecting, counting, and sorting the dead. Moving the civilians back to Trollmarket. Starting clean up and repairs. Phantom stuck around to help, brushing off every attempt to get him to rest or let a healer patch him up. They would have argued more with him, but they were mostly concerned with tending to those much worse off and making sure Jim didn't actually hurt himself trying to help rebuild when he should be resting. Claire and Toby were a great help and Plasmius… he disappeared shortly after everyone felt safe enough to say it was over.

The teens didn't leave until the sun was nearly up.

And then… well, then all four of them slept the day away. (Not that the Trollhunters were aware of the fact that Phantom slept all that day, or even slept at all. Or that he had had his wounds tended to by one Jasmine Fenton before collapsing to bed. Jim hadn't even had time to notice the empty sleeping bag on his floor before passing out.)

The next few days were… quiet. Or they seemed that way to an outsider. Jim, Claire, and Toby disappeared every day to go help with the rebuilding of Trollmarket and didn't have time to keep an eye on Danny and Jazz. It wasn't until the night before the Fenton's were due to leave, when Barbara pulled her son aside, that anything seemed wrong.

"What happened to Danny?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"What are you talking about?" Jim replied, honestly confused. He'd been so busy lately that his cousin had been the last thing on his mind.

Barbara did not look impressed. "He got hurt, Jim. And I know he was spending time with you. My cousin might be oblivious, but I know how to spot injuries like that." Jim only blinked at her. "His shoulder is pretty sore, probably dislocated it, but at least it was set back in place, so that's healing just fine, but he also acts like he cracked some ribs. So spill, what happened?"

When could Danny have hurt himself that badly? How were Mr. and Mrs. Fenton not noticing? "When did that happen?"

Now his mother looked a little concerned. "Given what I've seen, it was the night you two stayed out so late. You both spent the entire day asleep."

That… Jim had hoped she wouldn't notice that. But Danny had slept, too? What was he doing out that night? "I really don't know what happened," he finally said. "I mean, yeah, I went out," no use hiding that, "but Danny wasn't with me. I don't know what he was doing."

Barbara didn't look like she believed him but decided not to push it anyway. If Jim didn't want to say anything, he wasn't going to. "Well, not much I can do about it anyway. Just try and make sure he actually gets some rest, so his ribs can heal."

Jim nodded, agreed, and retreated to his room. Once there he found himself standing in the doorway watching Danny putt about the room, packing and searching for random items that may have gotten interspersed with Jim's. Jim's mom was right (Of course she was, she's a doctor), Danny's movements were stiff, and he was favoring his left. The same side Phantom had been hurt on during the final battle against Gunmar.

Jim stepped inside, not taking his eyes off his cousin, and closed the door. Danny's gaze flicked up to Jim for a moment as he placed another item in his bag. Then he paused, and looked back at Jim, frowning. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Jim frowned in return as he leaned against the wall. "What do you mean?"

"You've got this look on your face. Like I'm the most interesting thing in town and you don't know why."

Jim blinked at him. He hadn't realized he had been making any kind of face, much less that one. What even did that face look like? Might as well get to the point. "What's your connection to Phantom?"

Danny almost froze. Almost. For a fraction of a second his muscles seized, and then he was back in motion, laughing off Jim's accusation. "Phantom? He fights the other ghosts in Amity. My parents hunt him. What makes you think I've got anything to do with him?"

Jim shrugged. "You're favoring your left."

Danny glanced down at his left side, then back up at Jim. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You talk the same."

"Probably an Amity thing."

"You have the same name."

"Phantom and Danny?"

"Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom. It's practically a pun."

"Sounds like you think I am Phantom."

Jim looked a bit closer, thinking. Is that what he thought? That wasn't even possible. But now that Danny mentioned it… "You have the same face."

Danny seemed to be panicking now. If Jim weren't used to reading the body language of changelings and trolls, he might have missed the way Danny had gone too still and how he had almost stopped blinking entirely, waiting for something. "No, we don't."

Jim snorted. "He's practically a recolor of you. Or you're a recolor of him. Everything else is the same." And it was, too. The same shape to his brow. His nose. The curve of his mouth and chin.

"He's a ghost. He's dead. That's not possible."

Jim shrugged. "And trolls aren't real. And you aren't hurt. And you have definitely kept packing while we've been talking about how it's completely impossible for you to be Phantom."

Danny glanced at his half packed bag, then back at Jim. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Jim said as he knelt next to Danny and picked up a pair of Danny's pants to hand to him, "there's a thing with the human brain where it can't process telling a lie and doing mundane tasks at the same time. You stopped packing." Danny still hadn't taken the pants yet. "And you reacted to that rather than the implications about trolls or the injuries."

Danny finally took the pants. "And what are you going to do about it."

Jim shrugged. "Nothing. We've both got our secrets."

Danny's shoulders slumped, and he relaxed. "Thanks."

"I should be thanking you. I don't know how long we would have had to try and keep up like that without you. You saved a lot of lives."

Danny shrugged at him. "Jazz says I have a hero complex. I'm not so sure I buy it."

"Jazz knows?"

"Yeah. I've got a few others back home to. Like you and your friends."

Jim nodded. He could see that. Understand it. It was impossible to live this kind of life alone, especially at their age. "Stay in touch," he said, finally as Danny finished packing and someone yelled up the stairs at them. It was time for the Fenton's to leave.

Danny grinned at him. "Will do. And if you've got any ghostly problems around here, you know who to call."

"The ghost busters?" Jim teased with a grin. Danny groaned and shoved his shoulder. They called for him again.

Danny hefted his bag up. "I've gotta go. See- well, I'll text."

Jim nodded. "Text you later."

Danny walked to the door. At the last second Jim remembered something. "Hey," he said, "one last thing."

"Yeah?"

The door was still shut. "If you're Phantom. Is Plasmius Masters?"

Danny hesitated, eyeing Jim and weighing his options, which was answer enough. "Whatever you do, don't act on that. We have a bit of a stalemate going. An understanding. I say nothing, and he says nothing."

"Why-"

"There are people out there that would love to get their hands on us. To see what makes us tick. It would only take a few words here or there to make the other disappear."

Jim nodded again. "Gotcha. My lips are sealed. You'd better get going."

Danny nodded, opened the door, and was gone.

Well, that's that for What Cousins Do. A big thank you to everyone for all of the love and support you've provided over the course of the fic.

Loose Lips will continue as scheduled, and in this fics slot I will be posting some one shots and other little things until I run out of stuff. If you have suggestions, feel free to put it in comments or PM me. You can also hit me up on Tumblr, I use the same username across accounts.

Until next time,

NoS