I don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does. If I DID own Danny Phantom, the third season wouldn't have been as rushed, we'd have seen more of Danielle, and the series finale would have involved Dark Phantom.

I love this story! I'm excited to be writing it!

At any rate, this is starting out much darker in tone than my other stories, so you have been warned. Now, ON WITH THE SHOW!

We are about to unfold the story of Danny Phantom, a hero who has suffered in his time, yet still won the day.

Then, he lost. Horribly.

Over the course of this story, he shall lose much and find much. This is the story of him and the brotherhood he finds. It is the story of how they helped heal his scars, helped him grow, and how he in turn gained a place among them. It is how he lost everything and rebuilt a new life from the ashes. It is the story of how he went from a mostly-reviled protector of a small town to a respected hero of a big city and beyond.

It deals with great darkness. Many parts of the story are far from sunny.

I think it will thrill you. It may shock you. It might even – horrify you. So if any of you feel that you do not care to subject your nerves to such a strain – uh, well, you've been warned.

I Ain't Afraid of No Ghosts

Chapter 1
Mid-day Dusk

The night is darkest just before the dawn.
-Old proverb

oOo

A black-haired boy slept peacefully, the sun just barely illuminating the shadowy cave of his room. Everything was peaceful.

Then the alarm clock blared. It was a cheery, peppy song, reveling in its sweetness and warbling to signal the morning.

A groan went unnoticed by the alarm clock, which kept singing out, oblivious to the hand stretching out from the covers, or the bizarre green glow the hand was emitting.

ZAP! BOOM!

"Hate that song."

The teen slipped his smoking hand back under the covers, wanting just a few more minutes of sleep. It had gone uninterrupted last night, and he didn't want it to end just yet.

His sister had other plans.

"DANNY! Stop trying to destroy that alarm clock. You know it can't be destroyed with ecto-energy. Now get up! You have school!"

Danny Fenton groaned and rose out of bed, knowing his sister would continue to pester him until he did. Bleary with the morning, he didn't seem too noticeable. Black hair, blue eyes, tall and lean frame, he seemed every inch an Everyman.

And that was how he liked it. For if you looked closer, you would see lean muscle and multiple scars beneath his oft-baggy clothes. And his eyes, a robin's egg blue, carried about them a strange way. Often times, nothing was amiss, but if you paid close attention, you would see a depth to them, a look you would expect to find on a veteran fighter, a soldier who had seen much.

There was a reason for this. Danny Fenton was not entirely human. No, ever since an accident with a device known as a Ghost Portal, his very genetics had been fused with ectoplasm, the substance of ghosts. On that day, Danny Phantom was born.

Ask anyone in the town of Amity Park, and they would have something to say about Phantom. Accounts were varied. Some said he was a hero, others, a villain. Danny Phantom was a mysterious and powerful ghost, capable of great feats. Often, he could be found fighting one of the malevolent spirits that abounded in the town. Or, perhaps he worked with them to cause destruction. It depended on who you asked.

For Danny, it was a job. No one else could do what he did. No one else had the power. Sure, there were human ghost hunters who could do the job. His parents were two of them. But he had the power, and thus, it was his responsibility to help out in any way he could, no matter what others might think of him.

And what power he had! When he had first gotten his powers, he was falling all over them. Parts of his body turned invisible and intangible at the worst of times. Once, he had even awoken to find himself floating a few feet above his bed. Now, he was an extremely powerful ghost, capable of great physical feats. He could fly at extremely high speeds, and if he pushed himself, he could come close to breaking the sound barrier. The beams of energy he shot forth could be powerful enough to shatter a tank, or fine enough to cook a piece of popcorn perfectly. His control over his cold core, the source of his ice powers and ghost-sensing abilities, was so great, he could approach temperatures that could shatter metal on contact, or follow the ectoplasmic trail of a ghost. His power was so great, only the bravest or most driven of ghosts (like Skulker) dared stand against him. Even the human ghost hunters knew his power. The government-funded ghost hunting organization, the Guys in White, usually gave Danny Phantom a wide berth. An incident where Danny practically demolished twenty agents in power suits sealed that deal.

But right now, he wasn't Danny Phantom. He was plain old Danny Fenton, high school senior, brother, son, best friend, and boyfriend.

Danny tromped downstairs after his shower, more or less ready for the day. To his surprise, his sister had managed to save a few pancakes from the hungry maw of his father.

Jack Fenton, the patriarch of the family, was a bumbler. There was no debate on that, nor was there any debate as to his creative genius. His ideas for ghost fighting gadgets and weaponry usually worked, and worked well. Danny was hard-pressed to think of a time when the inventions totally failed. They worked, sometimes in unexpected ways, but they worked. Such was the genius of Jack Fenton, creator of the Ghost Portal (and yet, the bungler who put the on button inside the thing). He was a bear of a man, but jolly as the Santa Claus he passionately believed in, and could always be spotted by the bright orange HAZMAT suit he wore (most other materials gave him rashes, oddly enough).

Maddie Fenton was less exuberant than her husband, but no less brilliant. The technical genius who often made Jack's ideas reality, she was also a crack shot and a master martial artist, skills which aided greatly in ghost hunting. And while she didn't like to admit it, the brown-haired woman was quite beautiful. Not bad for a mother of two.

Then there was Jasmine, or Jazz as everyone called her. A psychologist in training, home from her semester at college, hers was a logical mind. At first, she didn't believe in ghosts, but upon discovering her younger brother's secret, she became a silent partner in his endeavors. She wasn't the best shot, but the redhead made up for it by being an emotional ground wire for Danny when he needed it. If not for her support, his nightmares concerning The Darkness would be much worse.

Together, Jack and Maddie were major forces in the field of paranormal science, and Jazz herself was starting to gain some recognition for her forays into the psychology of ghosts.

Danny allowed himself a small grin. Her sessions with Danny Phantom had gained her the attention. While he took some credit, it was really Jazz who deserved the lion's share of it. In return, she had helped him with his schoolwork. While ghost fighting took a big part of his time, with Jazz's help, he got his grades to a better level than they had been since the accident.

Danny polished off his pancakes and was about to go get his backpack when his father called out.

"Hang on a sec, Danny-boy. I need to talk to you for a second."

"Can we talk later? I need to pack my bag."

"We'll talk while you pack. Your room then."

Jack followed Danny out of the kitchen in back to Danny's room. As Danny started putting a few books back in the backpack, he spoke.

"So, what's up?"

"I just wanted to say that you're doing a good job. In everything."

Danny paused in placing his last book in his bag. Was it paranoia, or had there been an odd emphasis on 'everything'?

"You've done a lot, Danny. Even when people pushed you down, you got right back up and kept going. Even when your mother and I didn't believe you."

"Uh, am I missing something?"

"You know, if this were months ago, I might have bought that."

Danny stiffened slightly. Did he…KNOW?

"I don't want to pry. A man's secrets are his unless he needs to share them. But no matter what happens, son, I'm proud of you, and I'll support anything you do…"

Danny didn't know what to say. Thankfully, the clock said it for him.

"You better get going," said Jack, "Don't want to be late."

Danny dashed out of his room, slightly worried. Ever since the accident, he had been terrified that his parents wouldn't accept his ghost half. After a while, those fears dwindled, and were replaced by the wish not to drag them into his problems. It was bad enough that his friends and sister insisted on getting involved. So, he hid himself, doing everything to keep people from knowing, especially his parents.

Had he failed? Did his dad know? Questions to ask Sam and Tucker.

oOo

Sam Manson (anyone but her family who called her Samantha had a death wish) tapped her foot against the ground, the combat boot clunking against the pavement. Her arms were crossed, and her face had more of a scowl than usual. Usually, her Goth nature gave her a disaffected scowl, but this was deeper. This was a scowl born in impatience.

Beside her, the African American teen in the red beret let out a worried sigh before diving back into his PDA. If Danny didn't show up in the next five minutes…

A sudden cold presence beside him announced the arrival of their friend. A shuffle in the bushes, a flash of light, and another shuffle later, and their friend Danny was beside them.

"Sorry I'm late," said Danny, "Dad held me back for a bit to talk."

"Anything serious, man?" asked the boy.

"No Tucker. At least, I don't think."

"Uh-oh. Better tell Dr. Foley what's going on."

"Ignoring the usual drivel from Tucker, what IS going on?" asked Sam, pushing some of her black hair behind her ear.

"I think he might know," said Danny, and he outlined the talk.

His friends hissed sympathetically. Sam grabbed his hand.

"Relax. We'll help you out if you need it."

"Thanks Sam, but I think this is something I need to do myself. If you two want to help afterward, though, that would be great."

"Should give me enough time to put a little more polish that that program," replied Tucker, "Call and we'll be there, dude."

Tucker and Sam were his best friends. They had been by his side for years and were two of the only people who knew his identity as Danny Phantom. While he didn't often like it, they helped him fight ghosts when possible.

Tucker Foley was a techno-geek, a person obsessed with technology. An expert on all things computer, he was a brilliant hacker and programmer. Danny often swore that Tucker could do magic on his PDA. Half the things Tucker did with it shouldn't have been possible, and yet Tucker did it anyway. At present, he had a series of programs in the works that he felt confident would make him a millionaire.

Sam, on the other hand, was different. She had been friends with Danny for less time than Tucker had, but this did not matter. A textbook Goth, she wore black clothing everyday, wrote dreary poetry, and had a rather bleak outlook on the world. There were only a few things that could put a smile on her face. One of them was Danny. While she had been pining for him for years, it had only been recently he confessed his own feelings for her. They were currently dating, and cared for each other deeply.

The three entered school, Danny and Sam holding hands, and most of the day passed uneventfully.

In truth, Danny was jittery. Usually, there was some ghostly interruption. The Box Ghost for example, a very pathetic spirit with control over boxes and an inflated ego, could be counted on to show up at least three times a week. He hadn't been seen in two. Neither had Skulker, a ghostly hunter with designs on Danny, regularly claiming that his pelt would "rest at the foot of my bed!"

With such regular attacks, Danny was almost constantly in a state of battle-readiness, and he found himself unable to relax all day. Finally…

"FENTON!"

Danny shut his locker, almost happy that there would be some action, even if it was just his bully.

Dash Baxter was blond and brawny, the stereotypical jock and the consummate bully. Danny had been his favorite punching bag for several years. Ironically, he was a major fan of Danny Phantom, and if Danny's identity ever came out, he was confident that he would enjoy the look on Dash's face.

The look on Dash's face NOW, though, said that he was taking a bad grade out on Danny. Danny sighed. Dash used to frighten him, but after fighting ghosts for three years, Dash was just annoying.

"Let me take a wild guess, Dash. You got a bad grade and need something to take your anger out on."

"Got it in one!" said Dash, cocking his fist back.

Danny shifted his feet slightly, but Dash didn't notice. The fist launched. Danny caught it without even trying. The Box Ghost threw faster punches.

"You know something, Dash? I really don't think this is working. Maybe you should get a tutor, one who you won't stare at and lose your concentration because of it. Beating me up isn't going to change ANYTHING in the long run. And I've been taking martial arts, and I'm not afraid to use them if things escalate. You DON'T want things to escalate."

Dash looked Danny straight in the eye, ready to launch a comeback. Then he stopped, transfixed by the blue-eyed teen's gaze. For a split-second, Dash saw something in Danny's eyes, something that scared him.

He didn't know it, but what he saw was a piece of Phantom.

Dash backed off.

Sam and Tucker walked over to Danny, having seen the whole thing.

"Dude, that was amazing," said Tucker, "You got him to back down just by looking at him."

But Sam wasn't sharing Tucker's amazement.

"Danny, are you okay? You wouldn't usually scare Dash like that."

Danny huffed.

"Do you guys think things are TOO quiet? There haven't been any major ghost attacks recently, not even Skulker or Box Ghost. Even Vlad's been quiet lately. I don't know, but it just feels like the calm before the storm."

Sam leaned over and kissed Danny on the cheek.

"Danny, relax. You're just working yourself up."

Danny stared into her lilac eyes, eyes he loved so much.

"I guess I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Three years of ghost fighting will do that to you. It's called healthy paranoia."

"Forget it, dude," said Tucker, "Just think about what you're going to say to your dad."

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking…"

Danny suddenly cracked a grin.

"And ma head hurts," he finished, pulled a decent Old West accent.

The three shared a small laugh at the Yosemite Sam gag and continued their day.

oOo

The sky was overcast, and a cold wind was starting to blow, signaling that a storm was brewing. The trees around Danny shed the last of their leaves, a sign that the snow would soon come.

Danny barreled through the front door, a few fallen leaves following him. Divesting himself of his backpack, he called out.

"I'm home! Mom? Dad? Jazz?"

The house was silent. Then Danny remembered that his sister's car hadn't been parked in its usual spot.

"How did I miss that? You could spot that color a mile away! She and mom must be out shopping or something. Dad wouldn't be caught dead shopping with them. Perfect. Man-to-man talk time. DAD?"

Danny headed toward the door to the basement, figuring his dad would be down there. He opened the door and was about to shout out when it hit him. His senses were sharper than a normal person's, so the smell hit hard.

"Oh GOD! What is THAT?"

Holding his nose, he started down the stairs.

"Dad, what did you do? The smell is horrible! What are you-"

Danny stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs. His hand fell down to his side, and the smell, worse than before, rammed up his nose, but he didn't pay it any attention. His eyes were transfixed by the scene before him.

Red splattered the walls of the lab. Chunks of burned mush speckled the floor. The Ghost Portal had a strange symbol on it, written in red. The symbol wasn't immediately apparent. Scorch marks were present everywhere, and the equipment in the lab was broken, clear signs of some kind of struggle. Vials and beakers, dripping green with ectoplasm samples, lay shattered on the tables and floor. A huddled form lay in the center of it all.

The color orange was apparent under all the red.

It all added up in horrific clarity for Danny. The red was blood. The burned chunks were flesh. And the huddled form in the center…

Was the broken and mutilated body of his father, Jack Fenton.

Danny cried out, but his voice was a million miles away. He lurched toward the body, feet dragging in the gore. The smell of death raked his nostrils, but he pushed on. Finally, he turned his father's body over and saw the scorch marks and the gaping hole in his chest, right where his heart should have been.

Danny cried, hot tears pouring down his face, screaming his grief to the heavens. Finally, his eyes found the Ghost Portal.

He saw, and he knew.

Splattered on in, drawn in the blood from his father's heart, was his symbol.

A streaking D with a smaller P inside it.

The symbol of Danny Phantom.

A second look confirmed it. Hidden in the room all around them, untraceable by modern ghost hunting equipment, but traceable to HIM, was a faint trail. A piece of an ecto-signature, one he would know anywhere.

Danny's eyes stopped giving tears as they suddenly began to glow a luminescent green. A single name escaped his lips like a hiss.

"Plasmius…"

Rising to his feet, a ring of light appeared around his waist. It split in two, one ring going up, the other down. Both rings traveled across his body, altering everything they touched. Flesh and blood surged with ectoplasm and power. Shirt, jeans, and shoes became a black jumpsuit with white gloves, boots, belt, and collar. The symbol was ablaze across the chest like a white bird against a black sky. A white glow, like an aura, surrounded him. This aura bristled with anger, shining so bright, it light up the room.

The skin on the face became more tan. The raven black hair turned a stark white. The eyes remained the neon green they had been before the startling transformation.

This was Danny Phantom. Hero, protector.

But those were not his thoughts at the moment. His thoughts were red with rage and a need for revenge, red as his father's blood.

The name hit the air again, this time in the form of a roar of unbridled anger. Danny floated into the air, fists clenched hard enough to crush steel, and screamed the name, his barbaric call of raw fury shaking the whole house.

"Plasmius!"

Well, I DID warn you. TWICE.

Real quick, Season Three didn't happen, save for the fights against Nocturne and Undergrowth, meaning Danny did get ice powers. Wulf and Dani (still a bit unstable) are still out there, but at this point, I'm not sure they will make an appearance in this story, despite the fact that I like them.

A note to the people asking 'Why all the exposition?'
The answer is simple. I'm doing it because I can, because writers can't assume that the reader know what they're talking about all the time. I wrote those to provide explanations in the hope that anyone, be they fans of Danny or the OTHER part of the crossover, can understand and enjoy.

Frankly, this is a solid chance for me to try a slightly different style than my usual. This story is different than anything I've ever attempted before. Darker at various points than anything I've fiddled with. It's a grand experiment, one I hope to continue for the near future.