This is a continuation of FallingNarwhals' one-shot "Death Grip" with her permission. I suggest you go read Death Grip first, otherwise this wouldn't make any sense.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

The white haired ghost was shoved into the courtroom, his hands locked tightly in glowing green handcuffs. The dark blue suited officer forced him into an uncomfortable looking wooden chair, and the ghost barely made a noise of protest.

"Danny Phantom," the judge began, noting that the ghost hadn't even looked up, no parts of his toxic green eyes visible. A sign of guilt, if anything. "You have been charged with the murders of Samantha Manson, Tucker Foley, and Daniel Fenton. How do you plead?"

The ghost finally lifted his head, and the judge was confused. Instead of those famous green eyes that his teenage daughter rambled about, they were... Red. And not bloodshot. Ghosts didn't have blood. They were an evil red, a red that illuminated the darkest bits and pieces of hell with a faint glow. That color of red.

The eyes didn't do a thing out of the ordinary. They just stared at the judge without any hint of emotion, unblinking and unmoving, the pupils locked in a battle of wits. The judge looked away from those... Things, and repeated the question.

"Guilty." The Phantom replied. "But like hell can you punish me for them. I'm already dead, isn't the conviction of murder the death penalty?" The ghost let out a dry chuckle. "Maybe you can take your special needles and try to suck all the ectoplasm out of my bones, like sucking bone marrow from a chicken."

"That's enough, Mr. Phantom-"

The ghost started to laugh hysterically, making the residents of the courtroom shift in unease. "You know that they couldn't pry the weapon from Danny's hands? They couldn't do it to me, either. They broke every single one of my fingers with a hammer so they could pry the gun from my so-called Death Grip-"

"Mr. Phantom!"

"And you want to know the worse part? If you go check on little Danny's body, all his fingers would be broken as well. Broken, twisted, mysteriously snapped in half," the ghost raised his handcuffed hands and revealed fingers that had been brutally twisted, hanging off the palm at awkward angles, some spotted with a green substance that dripped onto the wooden table.

"All because you pried a weapon from my hand." The ghost set his hands in his lap.

"Very well, Mr. Phantom-" The judge was yet again cut off.

"You don't get it! You stupid humans just don't get it! Anything you do to me physically, Danny Fenton's body will suffer from, no matter what state of life he is in. Break my fingers, his fingers will twist and pop off like carrots. Take out my bone marrow, the dried dust of the fillings of his bones will disappear into thin air. Cut his cheek," the ghost lifted his mauled hand to his face, where a cut ran diagonally down his cheek. "Mine will be cut as well."

"Or," the ghost grinned, and evil thing that seemed to rip his face in half. "Kill him, even by accident, take away my humanity."