Mostly unedited. A series of conversations between (mostly) the Winchester brothers on a very unusual case.

Sorry I haven't updated in forever. A part of it was just me moving on to different fandoms, and another huge part of it was my personal life. Also, I'm super embarrassed about each and every single one of my earlier pieces of writing and the only reason I haven't deleted my entire existence off the internet out of sheer mortification is because other people still seem to enjoy it. I hate how I used to be, and I realize a huge part of it was me trying to fight my internal creeping depression with outward peppiness. A LOT of outward peppiness. Do not read my former author's notes for the love of everything good and holy in this world. I know I'm being harsher because it's myself, but seriously...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

"Why can't we just leave this one alone?" Dean asked angrily, glaring at the roadside sign welcoming them to Amity Park. "These ghosts—ultra ghosts, alpha ghosts, primary ghosts, whatever they're being called today!—they're the reason so many hunters specialize in ghosts. There are four hunters in this town, Sammy. Four! I don't want to spend my weekend hunting down a bunch of ghosts. Do you remember the last time we fought this kind of ghost?"

"With Dad," Sam replied softly. "It wasn't pretty."

"Exactly," Dean stressed. "And four hunters."

"Actually, I don't know if it's four or just two with regular names and code names for some reason. There's the Fentons, and those two we know are real, but the code names like 'the Red Huntress' and 'Phantom'; I think those two could just be what the town calls the Fentons."

"What?" Dean asked. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," Sam replied. "But either way, we're here because the town hasn't been getting any better over the past two years. However many hunters there actually are, they've been keeping the damage contained to Amity Park and occasionally Elmerton, but they haven't been able to stop the ghosts or get rid of them. I figured we'd at least stop by and see if we can help out since we have nothing better to do."

"Ugh," Dean groaned. "Fine, but if they say no I'm not sticking around any longer than that. I hate these kinds of ghosts."

"Agreed," Sam said.

"So," Sam said, closing the door to their motel room behind him. "Since talking to the townsfolk was so confusing I checked the online forums, and I found, among other things, an entire forum dedicated to just Phantom."

Dean looked up from the other side of the room where he was hunched over the journal. "So then he really does exist. He's not just the Fentons in some weird costume, or a mass hallucination?"

"Worse," Sam said, grave faced. "Do you remember, uh… Leticia Gore I think her name was. The ghost that tried to control those three murderous orphan kids."

"Uh, yeah," Dean said, only sounding a little unsure.

"Well Phantom is like her, but dialed up to eleven," Sam said. He opened his laptop and placed it on the table in front of Dean to show him the forum site. "He's called Phantom because he's literally a phantom."

"He's a ghost," Dean said unbelievingly.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "And it gets worse." He took a seat and turned the laptop back towards himself. "This forum has all of Phantom's confirmed captures—captures, not kills—of other ghosts, and it's basically every ghost the town has seen over and over again. There's even a thread on this forum talking about how useless the Fentons are at catching ghosts. I haven't been able to find out much of anything about the Red Huntress, other than that she sometimes shows up to try and kill Phantom. But mostly it's just Phantom catching the ghosts, over and over and over again."

"Are you serious?" Dean asked. "So basically this Phantom guy keeps shoving his ghost buddies back in the veil and sternly telling them to stay put this time, meanwhile all the other ghost hunters we heard about are running around with their heads in their asses."

"From what I can tell, yeah," Sam answered. "It's actually to the point where the town has started worshipping him as a hero, hence the forum. So, good news is we have a lot of information on every ghost there is in this town thanks to internet documentation. The bad news is that this town isn't going to get better any time soon because Phantom's the only thing that's been keeping the ghosts at bay, and it looks like he's not gonna do more than that. Past that, there's also the fact that if anybody sees us trying to take out Phantom, should it come to that, we could be run out of town because everybody except the ghost hunters, who everybody things are hacks at this point, is convinced that Phantom is their hero. And, in a twisted way, they're right. Regardless of him being a ghost, he's still the only reason this situation isn't much worse."

Dean grunted. "Ugh. See, this is why I didn't want to come here. Now we gotta take care of this. You find anything about how all these—" Dean made an aborted hand motion, "Ultra ghosts, or whatever the hell you wanna call them, are getting through the veil?"

"Not yet," Sam replied. "But maybe the Fentons will have something when we go to talk to them tomorrow."

"You just said everyone calls them useless," Dean pointed out.

"As ghost hunters," Sam said. "Maybe they're better as ghost researchers. There has to be some reason they picked this as their trade, right?"

"Are you serious?" Dean hissed to Sam as they stood in the corner of the Fentons lab. He eyed the giant octagonal door on the other side of the lab with absolute distaste. "They tore a hole open in the veil for research. Just like that! And they don't even think it's a big deal, or a mistake. They did it on purpose!"

"No wonder everybody in town calls them useless," Sam mumbled back. "Do you think anybody else knows about this? In the town, I mean."

"They're not running down the Fentons' door with pitchforks and torches, so I assume not," Dean replied. "Yeesh. This is the kind of thing that got people burned for witchcraft a couple centuries ago."

Sam snorted. "I don't think burning them at the stake is the right course of action here, Dean. Still, we do have to do something. We can't just let them run around doing more damage like this. Do you think we should try to explain it to them?"

Dean scoffed. "Do you really think they'll listen? Or understand? They're morons, plain and simple. I mean, seriously, what the hell?"

"It's worth a shot," Sam said. "And if they don't understand, well… we'll think of something."

"Well at least someone in that family gets how fucking insane this is," Dead muttered under his breath. "I can't believe a teenage girl understands more about ghosts than her ghost hunter parents."

"Did you see the son?" Sam asked. "I don't know if it was just me, but was there something off about him?"

"I didn't notice anything," Dean said.

Sam shrugged. "Ah, then it's probably nothing. I'm guessing you have to be at least a little weird with these two as parents."

"Oh yeah," Dean agreed. "So we're planning on destroying that portal, right?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "I'll look it up as soon as we get back to the motel."

"Good."

"So," Sam said, finally looking up from his laptop. Across the table from him, Dean was busy digging into a large burger. "I think we need to blow it up."

"What?" Dean said.

"The portal," Sam clarified. "Everything I'm finding about true rips in the veil says that if one is sustained you need to destabilize it so that it can falter and the veil can fix itself, or something like that. Basically, we need to stop the machinery the Fentons have set up to stabilize the portal from doing exactly that. That stuff looked pretty hardy, and they have all their plans down there anyway, so if we blow up their lab…"

"Boom," Dean said. "Problem solved. At least, mostly."

"Mmhm," Sam agreed. "It would be better if we didn't leave any ghosts outside the portal when we did so, or at least not knowingly. Closing the rip in the veil just means Phantom won't have any place to put the ghost he's fighting."

Dean grunted. "Mh, do you think Phantom ever goes back inside the veil? I mean at this point the ghosts are pretty much using the portal as a door, so he could just go in and out like he wanted, right?"

Sam shrugged. "There are very few reports of people seeing him outside of fighting ghosts, so it's likely, but I wouldn't bet on it. If we can make sure he's in the portal before we close it, that would be even better. We don't know what will happen with him when there suddenly stops being ghosts to fight."

"Ughhh," Dean groaned. "This is so complicated. I don't want to deal with this kinda crap, but if we have to the first step should be the Fentons, right? Getting them out of the house?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I feel bad about blowing up their house, but this is serious. Also, I found a ritual online to exorcise a ghost—"

"Exorcise a ghost?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I know," Sam said. "But hear me out. I think it's talking about these kind of ghosts. Alpha or whatever. Exorcise is the wrong word, but it might be a way to get rid of them."

"Or it could be a way to make one stronger," Dean pointed out.

"I know," Sam said again. "But having the stuff for it on hand just in case can't hurt, and I checked the Latin in it. The meanings of the words, at the very least, look like they match up to what it says the spell does."

"Okay," Dean said, folding his arms on the table. "So what do we need for it?"

"Hello, gentlemen."

Dean made a face as a tall man in a nice suit suddenly slid into the seat next to him. He looked like he was about five seconds away from punching the guy, but the man didn't seem to notice or care. He steepled his fingers together in front of him and smiled at Sam from across the table. "I heard you're looking into the Fentons."

"From who?" Dean asked gruffly. "Who the hell are you?"

"Vlad Masters," the gentlemen introduced in a smooth voice. It didn't go unnoticed that he didn't answer the first question. Sam and Dean glanced at each other from across the table. It was clear from their dual facial expressions that they had the same impression of the guy. He was definitely not to be trusted.

"What do you want?" Sam asked warily.

"To help you, of course," the man answered. His facial expression suddenly turned from friendly to disdainful. "To put it simply, Jack Fenton is a doddering fool who makes a mess of everything he puts his hands on. He's ruining his own life, the lives of his wife and children, and as if that wasn't enough he's in the process of ruining the lives of everyone in this entire town with that blasted ghost portal of his."

"How do you know about that?" Sam questioned.

"Old college buddies," the man answered smoothly. "Jack's first attempt at a ghost portal put me in the hospital for twenty years. Like I said, he's a master of ruining everything he touches."

"So this is about revenge for you, then," Dean said. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but we're not the guys you should look for help with. Maybe some group therapy?"

For a moment, the man's amicable expression faltered, but then he smiled at Dean. "Perhaps it is about revenge, but I'm not looking to get involved. Just to provide you with what you need to take care of the portal that has been ruining so many people's lives."

"And what would that be?" Sam asked aggressively.

"Oh." The man shrugged. "Money, perhaps. Weapons that can work against ghosts. I don't know if you've heard about the elusive Red Huntress, but I'm the one who equipped her. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to be putting them to very good use."

"Yeah, no shit," Dean said. "She keeps going after the one ghost that she should be saving for last. Phantom's not going to start doing any damage until there aren't any more ghosts to fight. If you're in contact with her, why don't you give her the memo?"

The gentleman smiled, and Sam and Dean could almost feel the smarm radiating off of him. "I'll do what I can," he said, which they took to mean that he would be doing nothing.

"Well," Dean said. "Thanks for the offer, but we'll pass. We can do this on our own."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," the man said. "Have you encountered Plasmius yet?"

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Plasmius," the man said again. "He's another ghost let out of the portal. He'll probably prove to be quite the challenge. He's quite powerful. He's even given Phantom a run for his money."

"I think we'll be fine," Sam said with a forced smile. The man gave a snake's smile back and got out of the booth to walk off. Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"That's probably going to be a problem," Dean said. "This 'Plasmius' ghost. He spoke like he could control him or something."

"Huh," Sam said, and smiled vaguely. He looked back up to Dean. "If this Plasmius is going to come to us then it might be the perfect test subject for that 'exorcism' spell."

"Vlad Masters is a billionaire who lives in Wisconsin," Sam said. He was sitting on the steps leading up from the dark basement they were in with his laptop in front of him. Further in the basement, Dean was using a large knife to carve sigils on the walls.

"Then what's he doing here?" Dean asked, carefully stepping over one of the salt lines on the floor as he finished with the current symbol. He glanced back at Sam. "Good?"

"What?" Sam glanced up. "Oh, the sigils? Let me check the pictures. Um… yeah, they all look good."

"Great," Dean said. He tossed the knife into one of the corners of the dark basement. "Now we just need to wait for this 'Plasmius' to show up, if it even does."

"He sounded awfully sure we'd have problems with that ghost," Sam replied. "And it's not entirely unprecedented that a ghost would follow the orders of someone it was close to in life. At least to a point. In the end, we're probably doing this Masters guy a favor by getting rid of 'Plasmius' before it turns on him."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, like I want to do any favors for that guy."

Sam hummed in agreement. "Yeah, but it's better if we do. Also, I was looking more into primary ghosts and I found something about ghost-repelling flowers."

"Ghost-repelling flowers," Dean repeated in a deadpan.

"I know how it sounds," Sam said. "And it's not like I believe it just because I read it on the internet, but I do think it could have some credibility just from what I've seen. After we're done here I might look into it more, just in case we ever come across some more of this type of ghost. The more I read about them, the more it seems like salt might not actually have that much of an effect on them."

"So what?" Dean said. "I just spent like an hour pouring these salt lines everywhere, along with these stupid sigils, and maybe salt doesn't even work on these things?"

"It's better to be careful," Sam said. He shut his laptop and placed it aside. "We should get in the center of the sigils. If this 'Plasmius' ghost is going to show up, it's probably going to do it soon."

Dean nodded and grabbed the shotgun. It was filled with salt rounds, of course, but who knew what that was going to do against these things. At least something, he hoped.

They stood inside the circle for about fifteen minutes of absolute nothing. It was boring, but Sam didn't want to risk anything when they were dealing with something they didn't quite understand, so they stayed put. Finally, something came through the ceiling.

Dean reacted by shooting it with the shotgun first thing. The thing dropped to the floor just outside the circle of carved sigils with a solid thump. Almost too solid to be a ghost, but those rules didn't really apply to this kind of ghost did they? In the moment of silence that passed after the shot went off, both Sam and Dean suddenly realized what they were staring at was a humanoid with white hair.

"Shit," Dean said. "What's he doing here? I thought he'd be busy chasing down some other ghost or something."

"Maybe he's here for 'Plasmius'?" Sam suggested.

"To fight it or to help it?" Dean asked back. Both Winchester's lapsed into silence as they watched Phantom get up off the floor. His eyes were a much more vibrant green than they expected, as was the apparent "blood" dripping out of his chest from where the salt round had hit him. He looked stunned, but definitely not stopped.

"We were going to save him for last," Sam said.

"Yeah, well that doesn't really help us now, does it?" Dean grunted back. "I doubt he's gonna let us go with a slap on the wrist."

Sam nodded. "Try to keep him occupied while I say the spell."

Dean nodded, and just as Phantom seemed to regain his full facilities and turned his attention to the brothers, Dean shot him point blank in the chest again. Phantom staggered back and fell to his knees while Sam began chanting, and for just a second Dean was struck with how young he looked. But ghosts didn't have physical ages, and there was no way to know how old he was really without a real name. Besides, regardless of age he was still a monster.

Phantom coughed, and green "blood" sprayed out of his throat and onto the floor. He seemed to gasp for breath, but he was a ghost so Dean didn't let it phase him. He loaded another round as Sam chanted next to him, and aimed for Phantom's head.

Just as he pulled the trigger, Phantom jerked his head towards them and his eyes squeezed shut. This close there was no way for Dean to miss, but regardless the round didn't connect. Instead it went right through Phantom like he was, well, a ghost. Dean noticed how his entire being had gone translucent, but not transparent. If it wasn't for the neon green he could almost mistake Phantom for a genuine ghost at this point.

Phantom lurched forward, still translucent, and outstretched his arms like he was going to grab Dean. Dean braced himself, but halfway there Phantom seemed to bump into an invisible wall and bounce off. All around the room the sigils he'd spent the majority of the night carving flared light green. Phantom made a surprised face and tried reaching his hand out again, but was met with a similar result. He turned around to look at the sigils carved on the walls, proving himself to be more intelligent than most of the ghosts Sam and Dean had fought before, but it didn't seem like there was anything he could do about them.

Dean took another shot, but just like before the salt sprayed straight through Phantom's translucent body without any visible effects. If it wasn't for the noise Phantom might not have even noticed. He turned back and reached out his arms again, and this time Dean noticed that he was trying to grab at the shotgun, but like before his hands bounced straight off some sort of invisible barrier as the sigils all around the room flared up with pale green light.

Sam shouted a last few words, and Phantom visibly winced at staggered back after they'd been said. Wisps of green energy wafted off of him and dissipated into nothing, and Phantom grew visibly weaker. Sam took a breath and started the spell again, and an actually panicked look flitted across Phantom's face.

He tried reaching out again, but the same invisible barrier thing happened. Frustration seized his face and he flew over to one of the walls. He reached out carefully like he was expecting to go through it but was being careful just in case, and the same invisible barrier trick happened with the same pale green light flaring up from the sigils.

"Damn, Sammy," Dean swore. "It's actually working."

Sam kept chanting. Phantom flew around the basement, pushing against the walls desperately like a captured butterfly. Then he seemed to get an idea and flew up to the ceiling to try getting out through there. He managed to get most of his arm through the ceiling and Dean was almost afraid he'd get away, but then the sigils flashed green and Phantom was repelled from the ceiling back down into the basement room. Sam was close to the end of the spell again and genuine fear and desperation took hold in Phantom's eyes.

Yeesh. Dean almost felt bad for him.

Then Phantom righted himself with new determination, but at this point Dean was feeling pretty confident. Sam finished the spell again and Phantom winced and staggered as another wave of green energy shedded off of him and disappeared. He took to his feet instead of flying and half-ran half-stumbled over to the stairs. They were near a corner of the basement so Phantom managed to get out of sight, but Dean remembered painstakingly carving sigils into walls around the stairs, and into the stairs themselves, so he wasn't worried. He saw a flash of white from the stairs and got curious, but he didn't dare step out of the circle.

Sam went through the spell four more times, just to be safe. At no point during that time did Phantom come back down from the stairs. When Sam finally finished with the fourth time he took a deep breath and paused. They waited for a couple seconds, almost expecting Phantom to pop out of nowhere and start trying to kill them, but nothing happened. Finally, Dean took a cautious step out of the sigil circle, and when still nothing happened he walked over to the stairs.

There was nothing there. Nothing. Not a scratch, not a dent. There were a few droplets of green whatever on the floor, obviously from Phantom, but other than that…

"I guess it worked," Sam said from beside him.

"Guess so."

"I feel bad," Sam said.

"I know," Dean grumbled back. "But we can't change the past. We need to sneak into the lab, hide the explosives, and then get out of here. We can't do anything for him now, but we can make sure no more ghosts get out of that damn portal."

"Just to be clear, this was definitely 'Plasmius', right? Under that Masters guy?" Sam asked. "He spoke like he had a grudge against Jack Fenton, and one day later the guy turns up murdered by a ghost."

"Oh yeah," Dean said back. "He's probably back in his stupid Wisconsin mansion by now, so we'll have to head there as soon as we're done with this place. Damn, why did this job get so messy?"

"Damn it," Sam swore under his breath.

"I know," Dean said.

"Not that. Look." Subtly, Sam nodded his head to one of the corners of the room. Dean looked in that direction and saw a teenage boy in an ill-fitted suit, glaring at that with intensity that would probably set them on fire it such things were possible.

"What the hell?" Dean asked.

"That's Danny," Sam muttered. "The Fentons' son. He's been glaring at us since we got here. If he keeps looking at us we won't be able to get down to the lab."

"So, what?" Dean said. "We need a distraction?"

"I'll go down to the lab, and you stay here," Sam suggested. "Try to keep his attention. With the way he's glaring at us it probably shouldn't be that hard."

"What's with the glaring anyway?" Dean asked. "Does he think we're the ones who did it or something?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. Try to keep him occupied."

"You."

Sam whirled around immediately upon hearing a voice behind him. It was filled with so much anger and malice that he was immediately on edge. However, instead of finding any number of enemies who might have addressed him that way, he only found Danny Fenton behind him.

A second later Dean appeared behind him from the stairs. "Jesus kid, where'd you learn to get so slippery?"

"You," Danny said again. The apparent hatred in his voice was enough to make Sam's metaphorical hackles rise, and he was fairly sure it had the same effect on Dean.

"What did we ever do to you?" Sam asked, taking a slow step back from Danny. He didn't have any weapons on him right now, so he'd be stuck with hand to hand if Danny rushed him. The logical part of his brain said he'd have no problem handling a fight with a scrawny fifteen year old, but the more instinctual part of him told him to be wary.

Real anger flashed across Danny's face and Sam realized something was terribly wrong when his eyes flashed bright, neon, glowing green. "You— you distracted me while Plasmius killed my Dad. You tried to kill me."

Sam barely had time to make sense of that statement before Danny flung his hand out. Sam tried to stumble back but it was too late. A ray of bright green energy slammed him in the chest and sent him flying backwards. As he recovered he saw Dean lunge at Danny, but instead of grabbing him he just stumbled right through him.

A halo of bright white light surrounded Danny and quickly flowed over his body. As it did Danny's ill-fitting suit disappeared, replaced by a much better fitting black jumpsuit. More importantly, Danny's blue eyes turned green, and his hair turned white.

"Ah fuck," Dean cursed, twisting his body back to face Danny with fists raised high. It didn't do him much good because a second later he was hit with the same type of beam Sam had been hit with, sending him tumbling back across the lab.

"What the hell?" Sam muttered to himself as he got to his feet and faced Danny. His eyes were shining like bright green headlights. The gleam shouldn't have felt as menacing as it was, but now having seen what light like that could do it was a little more fearsome. Especially since Sam got the feeling that Danny was only warming up, and that those beams of green light could do a lot more than push them back a few feet.

"We didn't mean to get your dad killed," Sam said as Danny began floating where he'd once stood. "I promise. We were just trying to take care of the ghosts here. To keep them from hurting anyone. You understand; you're doing the same thing."

"Understand this!" Danny yelled, and flung another beam of green light at Sam's stomach. He managed to dodge, but it still hit him in the side. It pushed him back, but this time it also burned through his shirt and left a smoking hole. His side felt slightly singed, but it could have been worse. It would be worse if Phantom kept hitting them.

"Teenage comebacks," Dean grunted from somewhere off of Sam's left.

"Why would you help him?!" Danny yelled. His voice held a strange echoey quality that made the cry a little eerie.

"We didn't," Sam yelled back. He had no idea what Danny was. Ghost, human, primary ghost, or whatever, but it seemed like he might be able to make him listen to reason. "Not on purpose, at least," he added.

"Shut up!" Danny yelled, the echo in his voice getting more intense. It seemed to make a few beakers in the lab tremble where they were.

On second thought, maybe not. Sam desperately glanced around for a solution while Dean did him a solid by distracting Danny with a fistfight. A fistfight could only be so effective when one party couldn't touch the other, but it did buy Sam some time.

"Dean!" he called out, and nodded over to the portal. He was lucky that Dean picked up his meaning immediately and quickly stepped away from Danny. Sam took up the job of the distraction.

"Listen," Sam said. "That trap you fell into; that was meant for 'Plasmius'. It's a ghost under Vlad's control, right? We weren't trying to kill you, and we weren't trying to kill your father."

Unpredictably, Danny actually faltered this time. For a moment he paused, taking in Sam's words, but anger seemed to take precedence over reason as it did with all ghosts. Danny flew forward to meet Sam in a physical fight, and Sam did his best to counter as he slowly backed his way towards the portal.

"Why?" Danny screamed, and in the middle of the fight Sam realized he was crying. "Why would you help him? Why would you do it? Why my dad? W-why?"

Just a fifteen-year old, Sam's brain reminded him. It struck him. The Fentons were ghost scientists and wannabe ghost hunters. Had they had enough know how to somehow capture and sustain their own son's spirit? It would explain why Phantom fought the others ghosts in the town, wouldn't it? But if that was true, how long had Danny been around for? How long had Danny been dead?

Sam got within five feet of the portal, and nodded silently. He heard Dean grunt softly from somewhere in the room, and then right behind him the portal doors opened. In the middle of taking a punch he grabbed Danny's arm and used his superior weight to swing the kid around. Danny made a surprised noise right before Sam kicked him in the stomach. He flew back and… there. Just inside the portal.

"Dean!" he shouted, and he heard his brother slam down on something. Hard. The portal doors began closing just as Danny recovered from the kick, and there was a tense moment where Sam thought he was going to make it through. However, just before he did, the portal closed. The lab was launched into sudden silence with the only noise being the sound of the Winchesters' breathing.

"Holy shit," Dean said from near the portal control panel.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "We better get out of here before somebody comes looking. Thank god this lab is soundproof."

"Breaking news: Following the unfortunate murder of Jack Fenton, the entire Fenton house exploded. Thankfully there was only one casualty: one young Danny Fenton, whose body has yet to be found but who hasn't been seen since the explosion. Speculation points fingers at one of the many experiments the Fentons had in their basement lab, where the explosion originated from. In potentially related news, the number of days without a ghost sighting in Amity Park has reached four, and many are wondering if the now-usual ghost attacks may have finally ceased. Could they have been all because of the Fentons in the first place? More at eight."

"So we're headed to Wisconsin, right?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "But first I want to make a stop along the way. Do you remember those ghost-repellent flowers I mentioned?"

"That still sounds stupid," Dean said.

"Yeah, well it's worth a shot," Sam retorted. "Salt obviously didn't do very much, and the spell we almost used on Phantom did seem to work, but considering the results I don't want to bet our lives on it."

"Fair enough," Dean said. "So what, we get the flowers, hope they work on this Plasmius ghost, take care of Vlad, and then what?"

"I looked into it," Sam said. "It seems like there have been a couple primary ghost sightings near where Vlad Masters' mansion is supposed to be. So we need to take care of Plasmius and Vlad, and then check to see if he has another portal like the one the Fentons did."

"Great," Dean said. "Just great. Well, let's get to it."

Done. There could be a potential sequel in here where they face off with Vlad and maybe Danny actually gets out of the Ghost Zone or something, but I think it's fitting to the story that maybe he's just stuck in there for a while or something. That way you can imagine that he comes back later, and either he's an enemy or just a really sassy and angry ally. Personally, I like to imagine the latter. I'm also a fan of the 'overpowered protagonist' trope in fanfiction, so Danny spending a few years living and fighting in the Ghost Zone constantly only to come back and be a really begrudging ally to the Winchesters is a really cool idea to me. I actually almost want to write it, but I probably won't.

Until next time.