"Alright, what's the gig?" Dean pushed a store-bought sandwich and milkshake into his brother's arms as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Sam paused in hastily rebalancing everything so as not to spill the milkshake on his laptop long enough to raise an eyebrow at Dean. "The 'gig'? We a band now?"

"Stop avoiding the question. You've found something that's gonna keep me out here away from my nice warm bed for another day. A few days." He watched Sam's unchanging expression. "... a week? Dammit, Sam!"

"Maybe not. Might a day. Might be nothing. I just... its hard to tell right now." He started unwrapping his sandwich. "How'd you know I'd found something, anyway?"

"'Cause you've been on that laptop since I left, so unless you've discovered some really good porn or made new friends on a social networking site, you're looking up something that we gotta deal with. What have you got?"

"Amity Park. It's a little town in the middle of nowhere. Pretty, suburban, y'know, retiree magnet."

"Ok, so what's wrong with it?"

"Everything. Seriously, there are reports of ghosts just... everywhere. It's like every month there's a new ghost story, a new kid claiming some spooky spectre stole a box of toys or shot their cat or something."

"So they have some very bored kids."

"That's what I though too, but... Dean, the whole town seems to be in on it. Most of the reports are just saw-a-shape-in-an-alley stuff, but some of them are town-wide events, dozens of witnesses."

"Okay, so why haven't I heard of this before?"

"Don't know. I guess nobody took it seriously? But Dean, best case scenario here we're looking at... some kind of illusionist or shifter or something using local legends to manipulate the townsfolk. Worst case... could be Ghost Central."

"Anyone dead?"

"I can't trace any recent deaths to the ghost thing. Lots of injuries, though, in stampedes and random wacky hijinks."

"Alright, let's go."

"Actually, we might want to head out tomorrow. I think we need to... resupply."

"You mean salt."

"I mean all the salt. All the salt."

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

"We know!" Sam shouted as she aimed the Fentonthermos. Seconds later, the shouting stopped.

"Why does he even bother?" Tucker asked. "It's getting to the point where we need to set speed records for beating him for it to even be a challenge."

"Why do any of them bother?" Danny asked, descending from near the ceiling of the dingy, crate-filled warehouse. "We should go before we trip an alarm or something."

Danny phased his friends through the wall, bid them goodnight, and went home. Technically, curfew wasn't for five more minutes, but he could see his mother pacing in the lounge... he had missed a lot of them lately. No need for a scene. Instead he phased through his own bedroom wall, went human, and casually walked down the stairs.

"Hey, mom. Want a cup of tea?"

She frowned at him, and glanced at the door, and back. "No... no thank you, sweetie."

"Well, I'm heading to bed. Good night."

"Danny, wait."

"Hmm?"

"Is... something bothering you?"

"What... what do you mean?"

She sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her. Danny took the cue. "I mean, you seem... stressed. Not normal teenager stressed, but... look, if anything difficult or confusing is going on, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything."

Not anything. "I know, mom. But I'm fine, really. It's just schoolwork."

"Well, if you're sure."

"I am. Good night, mom."

"Good night, sweetie. I'll be in the lab if you need me. We're working with this new compound that can dissolve ghost flesh! Thinking of making a sort of anti-ghost mace..."

Danny shuddered. "Yeah, that's... that's great." He headed upstairs before his mother could explain ghost-dissolving in detail.

Nobody had ghost problems... or family problems... like Danny Fenton.

"This whole place is crawling with crazy EMF," Dean grumbled as he paced along the roadside staring at the reader in his hand with great intensity.

"Did you take the electricity grid into account?"

"No, Sam, I didn't take the electricity grid into account, because this is clearly my first rodeo and I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Of course I took it into account."

"I was just asking."

"Yeah... well..."

"Is something bothering you?"

"No."

"Is it still the closing-the-gates-of-hell thing?"

"We've been over this, Sammy."

"I know, I just wanted to make sure it wasn't something new. But this is, like, the tenth random location in town we've checked, and the readings have been crazy everywhere."

"Might just be a local magnetic field thing. Or it might be Ghost Central." Dean massaged his brow with a thumb and forefinger. "Okay, so we track down some... ghost witnesses..."

"Far as I can make out, that's pretty much the entire town." Sam opened his laptop on the hood of the Impala and pulled up the relevant documents. "One time a giant ghost bee terrorised a local school. Giant ghost dragon terrorised a shopping mall. Giant ghost dog – "

"Are these all just giant ghost animals?"

"No, not all animals. One time everyone's wishes randomly came true in unwanted ways... ghosts took over City Hall and stated patrolling the streets, the entire town went under lockdown... the same freaky halloween stuff we seem to come across every year..."

"This isn't... this isn't meant to be how ghosts work. There's something off with this whole thing. What did this town do to piss off so many dead people?"

"It might be a curse? The ghosts might not be in control here."

"Yeah, but... wishes?"

"There was a river of candy floss involved, I believe. Four people were injured."

"A river of..." Dean froze. "Sam, we have seen this sort of thing before. This... dicking around, literal wishes, weird themes."

"Dean, we've seen some variation on something going on in this town at least ten times."

"I meant the whole thing. This feels like the Trickster."

"Gabriel's dead."

"He's the Trickster! We've seen him die three times! Including that time we killed him!"

"What would Gabriel want with this sort of thing?"

"What does Gabriel want with anything? Apocalypse is over, he probably got bored and went back to terrorising random towns with his twisted poetic justice like normal."

"Okay, we keep an eye out for the Trickster. And if it is him... try to talk to him, I guess?"

"If it's him, we hightail it out of here and when Cas starts actually answering again we ask him to go deal with it. He wants to be a hunter, he can do the angel jobs. In the meantime, let's ask around. See what these people know about ghosts."

"You want the Fentons."

No matter where they went, the advice was the same. Sometimes spoken with pride or appreciation, usually with derision or mockery. Jack and Maddie Fenton were a husband-and-wife Hunter team, normally annoying and intrusive but invaluable during wide-scale ghost attacks. Sam peered at that note, scrawled in his own handwriting, and briefly pondered the likelihood of ever seeing a sentence like that again.

"And everyone just knows that they're Hunters?" Dean remarked. "No cover stories, no fake identities? That makes no sense."

"It makes about as much sense as open ghost attacks," Sam shrugged. "Why, you jealous?"

"'Course I'm jealous. Here we are with our paper-thin FBI disguises and endless hotel rooms for our entire lives and they have a cushy home and two kids?"

"Well we never really had that opportunity, what with all the travel. And the credit card fraud. And being chased by a demon, and then all of hell. And then angels." He frowned. "And leviathans, and all of hell again. Not to mention being framed as mass murderers a few times. And all the real murder."

"Shut up, Sam. How are we approaching these guys, anyway? We can't be FBI or priests, since there's no crime and nobody died."

"Well they're hunters. We go through the front door."

"Yeah sure, being honest and up-front and teaming up with other hunters we barely know has never gone badly for us."

The Fenton house was easy to find. It would have been easy to find even without an address.

"What... is that?" Dean muttered, staring up at the giant metal protrusion that looked likely to fall at any moment.

"A zoning violation, at the very least," Sam replied, brows raised.

"Are we quite sure these people aren't crazy?"

"Do we know any Hunters who aren't crazy?"

"Good point."

Jazz blinked at the two men standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Can I help you?"

"We're Sam and Dean Winchester," the scruffy, moderately tall one replied, gesturing to clarify that he was Dean and the giant with shampoo-ad hair was Sam. "Can we, uh, speak to your parents?"

"They're busy."

"You mean like out?"

"I mean busy. Who are you? You're not from around here and you're way too young to be old college friends."

"No. We're, uh..."

"Reporters," Sam interjected. "We're reporters. We want to talk to your parents about a... a weird thing they saw at the supermarket yesterday."

"Why are you lying to me?"

"We're not lying."

"Still doin' it." Jazz started to count points off on her fingers. "You're incredibly nervous for reporters, nervous about your lies despite the fact that you show several characteristics of habitual liars. Nervous about getting past me and about being here at all, I would guess. You're not with a major news company or you would've presented your credentials right away; you're clearly dating, so running a small independent magazine or something is possible, but you're from out of town so it would have to be a cult interest magazine and we've seen a lot of those, you don't have the look. Besides, you're remarkably unprepared for somebody who came into town to talk to my parents. Reporters would have arranged an interview ahead of time. You're checking out the room behind me as I speak with threat-checking eyes, and Dean, you're standing ready to jump between Sam and any threat." Her eyes widened. "Sam, you weren't close to your father, were you?"

"We're... Hunters," Sam said after a small, awkward pause.

Jazz frowned. "Ghost hunters?"

"Yeah."

"With who? The Guys in White?"

"The who in what now?" Dean asked.

"We're... independent," Sam said.

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Come in and try not to set off any of the emergency security. I'll get Mom and Dad."

"'Reporters'?" Dean hissed at Sam when she'd left. "We didn't come with that cover prepared!"

"She's a teenager, I didn't expect her to go all detective on us!"

"It is... odd. Suspect?"

"Maybe. I guess we really need to see what's happening here."

"Hello!" a small woman called brightly as she strode into the room. She pulled back the hood of her protective jumpsuit and shook out her bright red hair. "I'm Maddie. Maddie Fenton. Jazz says you're ghost hunters? Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, we are... and no thanks, we're fine," Sam said with an awkward smile.

"Ghost hunters!" A large, similarly jumpsuited man burst into the room behind Maddie, almost knocking her over. "And enemy of ghosts is a friend of mine... Jack Fenton, by the way, but I'm sure you knew that if you came here to see me... so what's your deal? FBI? Guys In White?" He frowned at their outfits. "Not unless they've relaxed the dress code..." his eyes rested on Dean's chest. "Hey, a concealed gun! Is it some kinda ghost-gun?"

"Honey, give our guests a little space..." Maddie said sweetly, pushing Jack towards the kitchen. "Come on, you can get the biscuits..."

"Yes! Bistcuits! You need carbs for all that good, ghost-huntin' energy!"

"Crazy," Dean muttered. "Definitely crazy."

"But not dangerous," Sam muttered back. "So far."

"Not dangerous? He saw my gun through my shirt. People don't look for concealed weapons unless they expect concealed weapons, Sam."

"Well, to be fair, we have concealed weapons."

"I know that! I... hey, kid..." Dean smiled uneasily at the teenage boy who'd just wandered into the room rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What's up?"

The boy looked from one of the brothers to the other, and back again. "Hi."

"Danny?" Maddie had returned, her husband in tow with a huge plate of biscuits. "These are the Winchesters. They're out-of-town ghost hunters."

"Why are they... why are you here?" Danny asked.

"Ghosts," Dean shrugged. "Everywhere."

"... Huh." Danny grabbed a biscuit. "I'm gonna be late for school. Nice to meet you."

"Danny! You get back here and have a proper breakfast!"

"No time! 'Bye, Mom!" He rushed for the door.

"Kids, eh?" Dean remarked with a lopsided, somewhat awkward grin.

"So, uh, what does bring you here?" Maddie asked.

"We were just passing through Amity Park and felt we should touch base with the local ghost experts," Sam said. "You seem to have a... rather big ghost problem here, is that right?"

"Oh, we manage," Maddie shrugged. "People make a big deal out of the public ghost appearances but that's quite rare and our research is what allows us to keep on top of them!"

"Yeah, you barely see a ghost outside this lab more than, what, once a month?" Jack added. "Our security is top-notch and we protect the town fine. Not that we don't appreciate it when other people take an interest in our work!" He slapped Sam, hard, on the back. "The more of us, the more we can keep them on the run, am I right?"

"Yeah..." Sam coughed, choking on a piece of biscuit.

"So I guess you'll want to see our lab?" Maddie asked.

Dean blinked. "You have a lab?"

"Of course we have a lab. What kind of scientists would we be otherwise?"

"You're... Hunter scientists?"

Maddie nodded enthusiastically. "Ghost hunter scientists!"

Jack put a massive arm over his wife's shoulders. "C'mon, we'll show ya! To the Fentonlab!"

"... now we've seen everything," Dean muttered. "Please let this be everything."

As soon as he found Sam and Tucker, Danny got to the point. "There are ghost hunters in my house."

"Well... yeah," Tucker said. "You live with them."

"Not my parents! Other ghost hunters."

"Guys in White after you again?"

"Not Guys in White. Not the Groovy Gang. Not the Extreme Ghostbreakers." He shook his head. "This is something new. They call themselves the Winchesters, but that might just be a fake name."

"You gotta be careful around them, Danny," Sam said.

"Oh, really?" Tucker shot back. "And here I thought he should just go around using his ghost powers. Although with the exception of Valerie, pretty much every ghost hunter we've encountered hasn't been that bright. So maybe you'll be okay."

"Maybe isn't good enough. We need a plan to drive these guys off," Sam said.

"Like what?" Danny asked.

"I don't know. They need to have some weakness..."

"Danny!" Jazz skidded to a halt from her mad dash around the corner, nearly running into her brother. "There are ghost hunters in our – "

"We know," the other three said together.

"Right. Well, they're called Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm pretty sure the names are real, but it's hard to tell with experienced liars. And they look like they mean business. What do we do?"

"Go to class," Danny said wearily as the bell rang. "We can figure this out later."

"That's a pretty dangerous attitude to have, Danny." Jazz said. "This could be dangerous."

"Yeah, I know. Isn't everything?"

There was no salt in the Fentonlab. There was no holy water, no sigils, no spell ingredients.

There were guns. And strange, humming machines. Everything ran on some sort of glowing green energy.

"And this is the Fentonportal!" Jack announced proudly, pointing to a round steel door in the wall.

"Portal to what?" Sam asked, half bored, half dumbfounded.

"The Ghost Zone, of course! I'm not entirely sure how some of it works, but work it does. We use it to pull ghosts through for research purposes."

"Wait, slow down," Dean said, suddenly alert. "Ghost Zone? There's a... ghost zone?"

"Well where else would all the ghosts come from?" Maddie asked. "They'd be noticed if they just wandered around our world all the time."

"Well, no, they... they're invisible a lot of the time, and they don't always..." Dean gave up. "Fine, ghost zone."

"Might be Hell?" Sam muttered. "Purgatory?"

"If they have a convenient little doorway in and out of purgatory in their freaking basement I am gonna be so mad..." Dean muttered back. "I'm losing track of all the afterlives. This is like four different afterlife dimensions now. And I've been to three of 'em."

"... Pretty sure you're gonna have to go to this one too."

"Of course I am. When is anything simple for us?"

"So that's the lab," Maddie said cheerfully. "Want to see what we're working on now?"

"Sure," Dean said. "Why not."

"We call it... Fentonmace!" she brandished a squirt bottle.

"Okay..." Sam prompted.

"It repels ghosts. It doesn't require power like a ghost-shield or Fentonlaser, it's entirely chemical."

"Like salt?" Dean asked.

She frowned. "Salt?"

"To repel ghosts. Salt."

Jack's voice erupted in loud, raucus laughter as he slapped Dean on the back, nearly pushing him over. "Salt! Good one."

"You can't repel ghosts with salt, silly!" Maddie added. "Otherwise they wouldn't be able to hurt people, what with our internal salinity."

"No, no, pure salt. You can form barriers with it. Fire it out a shotgun. Whatever." Dean stared at their uncomprehending faces. "... Never mind. Look, we need to get going. We'll touch base with you in a couple of days, ok?"

"Thanks for the tour," Sam added.

The Fentons waved goodbye to the Winchesters as they climbed into their ridiculously fancy car and drove away. Jack put an arm around Maddie's shoulder. "What a nice couple. I sure hope they learned something about ghost-hunting."

"So these guys are, like, scary-good ghost hunters," Jazz reported over lunch.

"Do we have to do this now?" Danny asked. "I mean no offense, but eating lunch with your sister is kinda..."

"Danny. Look." She pushed several printouts across the table towards him. "The reports are from all over the US. These people travel around, they find supernatural things, and they kill them. Wanted for murder in several states, faked their own deaths at least twice... they kill ghosts, vampires, shapeshifters..."

"Vampires are real?" Sam gasped. "No way!"

"Screw vampires, I wanna be a shapeshifter," Tucker said. "Think of the ladies I could attract by looking like whatever they wanted."

"How about we all agree that we want to be alive?" Jazz asked.

"Uhm, Jazz?" Danny frowned at the printouts. "Where did you even get this information?"

"I have... connections."

"Connections?" Tucker asked. "What do you mean, connections?"

"Since this whole ghost thing I've been... keeping an eye out for other surprises. It's not easy since we don't live on top of a vampire research lab, but there's info if you know where to look. The problem is separating fact from fiction. Sam's pretty good at that."

"Sam?" Tucker asked. "Have you been researching supernatural monsters behind our backs?"

"Uh, no? I literally dragged you into the supernatural section of the library to hold books for me yesterday, remember?"

"Oh, right. I thought you were just being you."

"... I was."

"Anyway," Jazz interjected, "I'm going to need you help again with this, Sam, because some of it can't be right. The claims range from 'Sam and Dean Winchester are great at killing' through 'Sam and Dean Winchester are immortal' all the way up to 'Sam and Dean Winchester stopped the apocalypse'."

"The apocalypse?"

"Not exaggerating. There's a blog dedicated to proving that Sam is actually Satan in disguise. Also they were wanted by angels. Or demons. Or something." She shook her head as if to clear it of nonsense. "The point is, even without the ridiculous parts, these boys are bad news."

"Right. Thanks, Jazz."

"What do you think?"

"I think we've wandered in to cuckoo-town."

"I meant about the ghost portal."

"I dunno, Sam. It doesn't make sense. Nothing they said sounded like any ghosts I've ever seen."

"Yeah, me neither. Something new?"

"Again? Haven't we discovered enough new monsters for one lifetime? Well whatever we're dealing with, if it's coming through that portal, we destroy the portal."

"Yeah... maybe. But what if there ore other, natural portals? Maybe that one's just for the Fentons' research. We can't be sure it's the root of the problem."

"Worth a shot though, right?" Dean nudged his brother conspiratorially. "Practise for closin' the Big Gates. Now we just gotta work on the how."

It was only the weak, minor ghosts that were trapped easily enough to end up imprisoned in the Fentonlab. Those that survived passed on their tricks, so most possible victims knew what to do. Of course, there were always some that didn't listen.

Not maintaining humanlike form was critical. Counterintuitive, as one might think that a human form would evoke pity and kindness. One would be wrong.

Maddie stared down at the scared-looking young man confined by the plastic containment chamber, too small to allow him to stand or push out his arms, and bit her lip. "Jack, dear, if you would..."

"Right you are, Maddie!" Jack slammed down an oversized lever on the wall, completing a circuit. Eletricity flowed through the ghost, which screamed and struggled, futilely, to maintain coherency. After a few seconds, it was a wavy green blob with a face.

Maddie shuddered. "It always creeps me out when they try to look human."

"I know, sweetheart. Now, salt, wasn't it?"

"Pure salt, Jack. Make sure it's pure, no anti-caking agents."

"Oh it's pure alright. Got some in my eye. Hurt like anything." He handed her the bag. Maddie measured salt into the inlet of the containment chamber and pushed the inlet button. Salt sprayed over the ghost. The ghost looked a little startled, but otherwise didn't react. Maddie sighed.

"Well it looks like they were wrong after all," she said sadly, looking forlornly at the bag in her hands. "And think how much money we could've saved on powering the ghost-shield."

"Aha! Amateurs. I could've told 'em it wouldn't work. Hey, while we're here, we should check the dissolution coefficient again."

"But we already know that works," Maddie sighed.

"Yeah, but there's no harm in..." Jack leaned close, his voice lowering to a slow whisper... "replicating an experiment for the purposes of statistical rigor, hmm?"

Maddie giggled and ran a hand over his chest. "You get the Fentonmace, I'll get my new scalpels," she whispered excitedly.

"Breaking in the new blades! This is a special occasion."

"Oh, Jack." She kissed him. "Every experiment is a special occasion."

"So, I'm thinkin'," Dean began, pacing across the motel room and moving his hands about as if to physically rearrange his thoughts, "I'm thinkin' we ask to see the lab again. And we plant a bomb in that portal. And we blow it up."

Sam squinted up at his brother from his position at the little table, hunched over his laptop. "Where are we going to get a bomb?"

"I don't know Sam, I have no idea how two guys who can get a hold of the skull of a priest or, or the sun-dried blood of a living vampire with one week's delay could possibly get the parts for a bomb."

"So... blowing up a house with a home-made bomb. That's your plan."

"Not the house! Just the portal."

"Oh, right, I didn't know you were a demolitions expert. I'm sure you're great at precision explosives. There are kids in that house, Dean."

"We'll do it while they're at school, obviously."

"Oh, well that's okay then."

"Well what do you suggest?"

"That we get more information, for one thing. Why are you so gung-ho about blowing everything up and getting out of here?"

"Because this town gives me the creeps. I went to buy milk this morning and the checkout lady smiled at me and wished me 'happy ghost hunting'. We spend one morning in that house and everyone knows what we're here for."

"I dunno, I think it's nice not to have to hide for once."

"But we should be hiding, Sam. What if Crowley finds us? Or... well, anyone, really. We dont exactly have a shortage of people who want us dead. We do the job and we get out, quick as we can. And if we're really lucky, we might be able to get through a whole case without having to stab someone."

"Let's not go nuts with the optimism."

"No need to be sarcastic."

"I wasn't."

Jazz looked for a fancy black car as she approached home. She had promised to call Danny when she was sure the coast was clear; until then, he was hanging out with Sam and Tucker at the Nasty Burger. The car in question pulled away just as she made to turn into the driveway.

"So," she began as she strode inside, "those other ghost hunters were back, huh?"

"They wanted another tour of the lab," Maddie explained. "They are such nice boys, and so interested in ghost hunting."

"They even wanted to see some of our early research!" Jack exclaimed. "Not just in it for the shiny toys, those two. I gave 'em a copy of our notes from our first ghost portal experiment back in college. Told 'em to watch out for ecto-acne. And explosions."

"I miss that portal," Maddie sighed. "I mean, it did explode, but it just had the kind of do-it-youself inventive charm that our big one doesn't."

"You... leant them your notes? On ghost portals? But what if they... don't bring them back?"

"Oh, no, we just gave them a copy."

"I did give them that old book we based our research on, though. Not that I understood most of it. It was all Greek to me." Jack shrugged. "Literally. And I don't speak Greek."

"It was Latin, dear."

"Don't speak that either."

"Anyway, sweetie, how was school?"

"Fine... it was fine." Jazz bit her lip. The ghost hunters sharing research? That couldn't be good.

"I can tell you this much; blowing up the portal wouldn't have helped." Sam ran the back of his pen down the side of the page as he read, pausing to hold his place every time he needed to look up the English translation of a word.

"Well, okay... so what do we do?"

"It's... hard to be sure. Some of these words are hard to translate and the book only has some of the information. We need a... a scholar, or something."

"We could take the book back to the Batcave, see if there's anything useful in the books there?"

"Don't need to. I've been digitising the Man of Letters books. Most of the more important-looking ones are on the laptop." He patted the back of his laptop companionably. "Anyway, here's what I've got so far... this Ghost Zone isn't its own world, it's like... part of Purgatory, but zoned off from the rest. Everything in the Ghost Zone turns in on itself and doesn't match up with the rest of Purgatory. And the rest of Purgatory can't get into the Ghost Zone."

"It's a giant hamster ball in Purgatory, got it."

"More like a... a three-dimensional mobius strip. Anyway, apparently spirits can get trapped there. And when they do... well, the guy who wrote this book describes them as ghosts, but they're not like our ghosts. This isn't a burn-the-bones deal. But they can travel back into our world through these ghost portals. Like the Fentons'."

"So we break the portal, we keep the weird ghosts out. Still not seeing the problem."

"Well, part of the problem is that natural portals open up all the time. But mostly, it's that the physical barrier around the portal is just an anchor. Blowing that up won't close the portal, it'll just stop it being anchored to any one place. Then we'd have a permanent, moving portal on our hands."

"So... how do we close it?"

"The portal is sustained by a living soul that serves as the conduit. Somewhere in this town is a person keeping the portal open."

"So we find and gank the person using their soul as a cosmic doorstop. What are you thinkin', crazy ghost hunter number one or crazy ghost hunter number two?"

"I don't know. Could be either. Could be someone else entirely. I don't actually think they knew what they were getting into. One of them left notes in the margins and they... a lot of them are on the wrong track."

"Okay, so we try to get them to reverse the spell, and if they don't, then we gank 'em. The spell is reversible, right?"

"... Maybe. Attempts to close portals by reversing the spell have had... variable effects. Killing the conduit does work though."

"Well great. Let's grab some guns and start pokin' around. What do we know of this conduit?"

"Not much. There are various mentions of a 'new form', but no real details. Except, apparently, 'the form itself protects from recognition by the ignorant'."

"Do we know how to kill this 'new form'?"

"No. That's all I have."

"Oh well that's just great."

"The real question is why? I mean, did these people really open a portal to an evil monster dimension for science?"

"You saw those people, right? I..." Dean paused. "You hear that?"

"Hear wh – "

Dean threw up one hand to silence his brother. Somewhere outside the motel, there was a faint crashing sound. Something collapsing, or maybe something big being knocked over.

The boys were out the door within seconds.

Danny Phantom dodged yet another laser. Valerie's aim was improving, he couldn't stay lucky forever, and he was rapidly running out of things to hide behind. "If you would just listen – "

"You have nothing to say that I wanna hear!" Valerie snapped, firing again.

Danny wondered if it was worth diving for the floor again. Last time he'd tried to phase through the concrete, she'd been prepared, and nearly got him. The roof or walls were pointless; she could be outside as fast as he could. But if he went through the back wall, and then into the ground...

"Aaargh!" Danny pulled his hand out of Valerie's line of fire. She'd upgraded her equipment again, somehow. That'd teach him for getting lost in thought mid-battle.

Just then, the door behind her was kicked open. Two vaguely familiar men entered, wielding very familiar weapons.

Valerie turned to meet the new potential threat. "Who the hell are you?"

Danny dove for the concrete as soon as her eyes were off him.

"We're, uh..."

"The new ghost hunters everyone's been talkin' about. Well I hope you're happy, my target just got away."

"Was that a little boy?"

"He ain't really little. We've had littler. But he's the big prize, the ghost who – you know what, that's not really any of your business. Point is, your help isn't needed in this town. I got it covered and we don't need amateurs getting' in everyone's way."

"Believe me, we're not amateurs."

"Well, since you just walked right into my hunt and ruined it, you clearly didn't recognise the most famous ghost in Amity Park, and you're using Fenton tech of all things, you clearly are."

"Who was that ghost?" Sam asked.

"Danny Phantom. Local menace. Everyone knows him."

"Then why haven't we heard about him? We've been asking about ghosts all day."

"Depends if you asked the right questions. He... hasn't hurt people directly as much as some of our other menaces have. He prefers more roundabout methods. So he's got a lot of people thinkin' he's a good ghost or somethin'. Truth is, he's playing everyone. He hurts people, just not in ways that make good news stories, so if you've been askin' people about ghosts that injured them or enslaved them or whatever, his name won't come up."

"Well, shouldn't we go – "

"After him? No point. He got into the ground, he could pop up again anywhere. Almost had him, too."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"You can make it better by gettin' out of my town and leaving ghost-hunting to the professionals."

Danny woke up at 6am, screaming.

"Hush, Danny... it's ok, it's ok." Jazz hugged him tightly until he came to his senses.

"... Jazz. Sorry. Again."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"It helps to talk, Danny, you know that."

He sighed. "Skulker this time."

"You get him a lot."

"Well he's one of the few whose goal is to actually kill me, so..."

"None of us are gonna let that happen, Danny."

"I know. But tell that to my dream-self."

"They're here again!" Jazz hissed in annoyance over breakfast. "Haven't Mom and Dad gotten tired of them yet?"

"People who actually listen to Dad's ghost ranting? They might as well move in."

"They can't possibly be this interested in Mom and Dad's junk. Are we sure they're not... you know, looking for you?" She lowered her voice even further. "I did hear them asking about Danny Phantom. It was just a side question, but..."

"So somebody probably mentioned him. Danny Phantom is pretty famous." Danny shrugged. "Besides, they're not following me or anything."

"Without your ghost-sense you couldn't tell if a bus was following you. And these two aren't ghosts." Jazz frowned. "We need a way to make Mum and Dad make them leave."

"And how exactly do we do that?"

"I don't know. Let me think about it."

"Thanks for loaning us this," Sam said, handing the book back to Jack.

"No problem! Us ghost hunters gotta stick together, right?"

"... Yeah. Say, so you know anything about that other ghost hunter? Rides a hoverboard? A teelage girl I think – I didn't see her face."

"Another ghost hunter?" Maddie asked. "It's so nice that today's youth are inspired to take up the business."

"... Yeah. Nice. Exactly the fate I'd wish on a kid," Dean muttered.

"We, uh, we're really interested in this portal of yours," Sam interjected. "We understand that you need a, a person to hold it open?"

"A person?" Maddie frowned.

"A conduit. A living soul?" In response to Jack and Maddie's blank stares, he added, "'No portal to the realm can be permanent, but semi-permanence can be achieved through tying to portal itself to a living soul, that the portal lives as long as he does. The subject's lifespan is not shortened by this ritual, discounting the dangers; the dangers being, of course, that the acquisition of the new bridging form may take time to learn to control, so it is recommended that the portal be opened in isolation.'"

"Are you sure that's the correct translation?" Maddie frowned. "We didn't do anything like that and our portal is perfectly stable."

None of them noticed the sudden silence from the kitchen as Danny and Jazz froze, cereal spoons halfway to their mouths.

"Yeah," Jack said, "We built the thing, we plugged it in, bam! Well, eventually."

"Let's go to school," Jazz hissed hurriedly.

"Yeah, let's."

They bolted for the door, barely pausing to return their parents' cheery 'goodbye's.

It was an awkward car ride.

After about five minutes, Jazz broke the silence. "So... that kinda explains some things, huh?"

"I guess."

"Well, from what you've said in the past, the portal didn't really work until you ..."

"Do we have to talk about this now?"

"Yeah, Danny, we do, because a couple of mass murderers are in our house looking for you."

"Story of my life," Danny muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. What should we do?"

"Well, to start with... you should probably not go ghost, at all, until they leave. We don't actually now how competent they are at ghost hunting."

"Actually they didn't seem to great when I ran into them last – ow!" Danny pulled his head up from the dashboard and glared at his sister, who'd just slammed on the brakes.

"Sorry. What was that?"

"Last night. I ran into Valerie. Then those two stumbled in and I managed to get away."

"... okay, yeah, see, if you don't go ghost, you can avoid stuff like that."

"I'm not going to let ghosts run amok just because of some visitors!"

"Mom, Dad, Sam, Tucker, Valerie and I can handle the Box Ghost."

"And if something big comes along?"

"We'll deal with that when it happens. Just promise me, Danny. Please."

Danny sighed. "Ok. I won't go ghost until the Winchesters leave. I promise."

They hadn't even seen the day out before Danny regretted his promise. The ghost-shield shimmering over FentonWorks was visible from three block away on the drive home.

Jazz's eyes narrowed. "Call Tucker and Sam. We're going to Tuckers."

"We're not abandoning Mom and Dad! They could be in trouble."

"We're not abandoning anyone. We're planning a rescue."

"A conduit between worlds, huh?" Sam remarked from her seat on the end of Tucker's bed. "Pretty cool."

"That's not important right now," Danny snapped. "What's important is that we have no idea what's going on under that ghost-shield."

"Maybe a ghost attack?" Tucker asked.

Jazz shook her head. "They would've called us in school. Whatever's... whatever's happened, they can't get to a phone."

"We need to know what's happening inside," Sam said.

"You all have Fentonphones?" Danny asked.

"No, Danny," Jazz said. "No."

"It's the only way. You guys can walk through the ghost-shield but the lab is going to be locked up tight. According to the last emergency drill Dad made us run, none of the ghost shields are actually inside walls. I just need to switch between forms to get through any barrier."

"If the anti-ghost defenses are active they'll just zap you," Tucker pointed out.

"And the two mass murderers who are specifically after you will zap you harder!" Jazz snapped.

"I can beat the anti-ghost defenses by not being a ghost any longer than I have to. And as for the ghost hunters... I'll just have to hide really well, won't I?"

"No," Jazz said. "I won't let you do it."

Danny smiled. "I love you, Jazz. But you can't stop me."

Jazz pulled a thermos from her belt and brandished it. "I will lock you in the Fentonthermos if I – hey!"

Sam waved the thermos she'd pulled from Jazz's hand for a moment, then hid it behind her back. "Go on, Danny."

"Yeah," Tucker said, "we got your back from here."

"You're my brother, Danny. I can't lose you."

"I know. And they're our parents. We can't lose them. 'Bye, Jazz."

"Don't say that with such finality. This is a recon mission only. Once we know what's going on in there, you call for backup."

"Of course," he said as he went ghost. "I promise. Sam, I..."

"Go," Sam said. "Protect your family."

"Jazz..."

"Can we have a moment alone?" Jazz asked. Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance, shrugged, and left. When they were alone, Jazz continued. "You know, if you're going to be switching in and out of your ghost form in the house..."

"They might see. I know. We've had closer calls."

"But would it be so bad? If they knew? They're our parents, Danny. They'd still love and accept you."

"Maybe."

"You don't believe that?"

"Oh, I know it. I know that if they found out, then after the danger had passed... they'd hug me, all happy that I was alive, and I'd be confused and say something like, 'But I lied to you. Over and over, for a really long time.' And they'd say, 'Of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to.'" He tilted his head so that Jazz wouldn't see the tears. "'We love you, sweetie. You. Whether you're ghost, boy, or something in between.'"

"Okay, so...?"

"So what after that? Next week? Next month? I know how they'd react if they were relieved that everyone was simply alive, but after that? How long before I'm just a ghost to them?"

"That... that would never happen, Danny." Even Jazz could hear the doubt in her own voice.

"I'm not so sure."

"Oh, Danny..." Jazz swept him up in a hug.

"You know... not all the nightmares are about ghosts."

"Huh?"

"I know... last night, I told you it was Skulker. But sometimes it's them."

"Mom and Dad? No, they wouldn't – "

"It starts small. Can you go ghost and tell me if you can walk through this, Danny? Can we have a blood sample for our tests, Danny?" He gave up pretending and wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of one hand. "Look into this, Danny, and tell me what you see. Eat this, Danny. Give me your hand, Danny, I want to see what this chemical does..." he started choking back sobs. "What do you mean, no? Get back here. Don't make us tie you down... these restraints are ghost-proof, you know..."

"Danny, no!"

"Are you sure? You've heard them talk."

"You're their son!"

"For now. I'm half-ghost. Isn't that like being half dead? They might see me as some kind of monster that took their son's place."

"Even if you were... dead... you'd still be – "

"No, I wouldn't, because they have no respect for the feeling or lives, as it were, of ghosts. They don't see ghosts as people. There's a chance that won't change, and I can't risk it. That's why I can't tell them." He wiped the remaining tears from his eyes and broke away from his sister. "Anyway, we shouldn't be having this conversation right before I go rescue them."

"You mean to recon."

"Recon is stage 1 of rescuing them. Goodbye, sis."

"Good luck, little brother."

Danny lay under some sort of wheeled vat in the lab and tried to be very, very quiet; partly to avoid being spotted, and partly so that his friends could hear everything that was going on through their Fentonphones.

His parents were both tied firmly to chairs. His father should be able to break that, but he hadn't. Must be hurt. They both looked alive, at least, although their faces were badly bruised. Everything else was hidden by jumpsuit.

It looked like they didn't go down without a fight; the Winchesters looked pretty beaten-up too. Sam definitely had a broken arm. Dean was favouring one foot and when he spoke through his badly bruised throat, he did so with a rasp. He was holding a gun; Sam gripped a long knife in his good arm.

"We're gonna ask you bozos one more time," Dean rasped. "Who is the conduit? Is it one o' you?"

"We don't know what you're talking about!" Maddie snapped. "And if you even think of giving my husband one more bruise..."

Dean started to raise his gun.

"Hey!" Jack bellowed. "You point that away from her or I'll break your neck."

"This is getting us nowhere, they're not gonna tell us," Sam said. "I'm thinking it's probably one of them."

"So we kill them, see if it closes, and if not look further?" Dean asked. "I mean once we're finished here we definitely can't stay in this town, it's a now-or-never sorta thing."

"I think it's out only shot," Sam said.

Dean shrugged and brought the pistol to Jack's head.

"No!" Maddie screamed.

"Stop," Danny Phantom shouted, rising from the vat. There was no anti-ghost security in the lab itself; no sense destroying the lab every time the house went under lockdown. "They're not who you want."

Dean didn't move his weapon; Sam, however, had drawn a compact Fentonlaser, and aimed it at Danny.

"I'm the conduit," Danny continued. "Let both of them go and I'll surrender."

"You? But you're a ghost."

"Dean, I think this is what was meant by – "

"Let them leave and I'll tell you anything you want to know," Danny said quickly. No reason to give his parents enough information to figure everything out.

"Agreed, if they leave peacefully," Dean said. He turned back to Jack and Maddie. "But if we hear of another ghost portal opening up here, we'll be back."

"We're not just walking away from – " Maddie began.

"Of course you are, you have kids to be there for," Danny said, and she fell silent. They didn't look happy about it, but they meekly allowed themselves to be untied and headed for the door.

Jack stopped at the entrance. "So, uh, I guess I owe you..."

"We're gonna have to do this later," Danny said. "Go."

He watched them leave, not even bothering to turn around as the Winchesters encased him in a ghost-shield.

"That idiot!" Sam snapped, fighting the urge to rip her Fentonphones from her ears and step on them. "Any luck with the doors?"

"This isn't like hacking Skulker's armor, this has actual security," Tucker snapped back. "I'm doing the best I can."

"Danny's gonna be dead in minutes if we don't get in there," Jazz fretted.

"Which raises the question of just how we're meant to help," Tucker muttered, not looking up from his PDA.

"We'll figure that out later! Just get us inside!"

"Much as I'd like to rip that ghost-kid apart molecule-by-molecule," Jack muttered as they made for the door, "we really do owe it to him to save him." He punched a long code into a keypad on the wall, ending the lockdown; the ghost shield , the anti-ecto defenses deactivated and the automatic locks on the doors sprang open. If the ghost-kid could escape the Winchesters, then he might have a chance of getting out of the house. Jack just wished they weren't too injured to help.

"You did it!"

"That wasn't me..."

"Who cares? Let's go!"

"Listen, you don't understand," Danny said quickly. "I'm a good ghost. I don't know what Valerie told you, but I protect this town."

"We know," Dean said, looking up from his search through random lab equipment.

"You... know?"

"We get framed for crimes a lot," Sam pointed out. "And a lot of the time, not really framed but... we understand PR problems, believe me."

"A kid," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "Why does it have to be a kid?"

"And we've met 'good' monsters too. Not very many, but... a few."

"Then... why are you doing this? Just to kill everything supernatural?"

"No. Because you're not what worries us. The other ghosts are," Sam said gently.

"Enslaving adults to work on a metaphysical ghost ship? Imprisoning people in a travelling Gothic circus of ghostly thieves? Dragon attacks? Candy floss? And what the hell is a Fright Knight?"

"Killing me won't help with that!"

"Yes," Dean said. "It will. Did you open this portal?"

"I... think so. It was an accident."

"Then killing you will close it. And it will make this town safe. I'm sorry, kid." He looked at Sam. "Found anything that can kill a ghost yet?"

"Not unless you want to do a lot of cutting with a scalpel. Ick."

"This would be so much easier if this lab was organised."

"Why can't you just blow up the portal?" Danny asked desperately.

"Because the metal is just the portal anchor," Sam pointed out wearily. "We blow that up, and we end out with a free-moving, permanent portal that we can't see or track. That's just more dangerous. Sorry."

"In that case," Jazz's voice said from the door, "you really don't want to kill him." She entered slowly, both hands open and empty. "You'd pretty much be dooming this town."

Dean frowned at her. "How did you get in – "

"Into what, my own house?"

"How does closing the portal doom the town?" Sam asked patiently.

"Because of Vlad Plasmius."

"Who?"

Jazz rolled her eyes. "The other 'conduit', as you call them. He keeps a lower profile than Danny Phantom here. But he does... or did... have a ghost portal. He is not a good guy. And his portal exploded some time ago, here in Amity Park. So I'm not so sure that the ghost portal all locked up in the secure lab in the anti-ghost house is the one that's a problem here. And if you take away our ghostly protector..."

"Sounds like a bluff," Dean said.

"Uh... actually," Sam said, scrolling on his phone, "there is a ghost by that name. Doesn't crop up so much though."

"If you look through the house security footage, you can find the time he tried to steal our portal after his exploded. Dad insisted on keeping the footage of himself beating Vlad up."

The boys exchanged glances. "So we have two conduits to gank?" Dean asked. "Man, this other one is gonna take forever to track down."

"Don't forget the ghosts," Tucker said, entering behind Jazz. "When they find out you two are trying to shut them off from the physical world, the entire Ghost Zone will come after you. You wanna wage war on the afterlife?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Dean muttered.

"I don't think we have time for this," his brother replied. "Gates to Hell, remember?"

"So what do you propose we do?"

"Leave," the last member of their little gang said as she entered, "and let Danny do his job. This doesn't have to be your problem. This town has been safe so far. Not a single person has died."

"Not yet," Dean pointed out.

"True," Jazz said. "Not until you kill two people to close these portals. Never mind the innocents who'll be in danger when you call the wrath of the entire ghost zone on this town.

"So, what, you expect us to just leave this town in the hands of one kid?"

"Not one kid," Tucker said. "Not even close."

"This town has taken care of itself just fine, Mr Winchester," Sam added. "The people of this town have taken care of each other just fine. We don't need your help."

The brothers glanced at each other.

"What do you think, Sammy?" Dean muttered quietly enough that only his brother could hear him. "Do you think we can just... walk away from this?"

"I think... I think they're right. We don't have time to do this right, and anything less is just gonna screw things up more."

Dean looked back at the teenagers assembled in the doorway. Then, without giving himself time to think about it, he shut down the ghost shield. "Go," he told Danny. Turning back to the teens, he added, "If this town doesn't want our help, fine. But the minute this ghost thing looks to impose a danger on anyone else..."

"It won't," Jazz assured him. "It's our problem, and we'll keep it that way."

"Well, I... I guess we'll be getting' out of town, then. Really fast." The brothers awkwardly shuffled past them and up the stairs.

"Drive safe!" Tucker called to their retreating backs.

"Jazz! DANNY!" The siblings found themselves swept up in their mother's arms, before being practically crushed in their father's.

"Uh... hi."

"Oh my got you're alright! We were so worried that those crazy men would find you!"

"When we saw the ghost shield was up, we figured we shouldn't go into the house alone," Danny explained. "We were just planning here with Sam and Tucker when you guys came." In fact, they'd barely beat their parents back to Tucker's.

"Good. You did the right thing."

"You two look hurt. Shouldn't you be in hospital?"

"Just flesh wounds, Danny. The important thing is that you're alright!" He rocked back and forth on his feet. "Although now that we know that, we... should probably go to hospital."

"I'll drive!" Jazz said quickly, racing for the RV.

"Are you two sure you're all right?" Danny asked. "I was really worried about you."

His mother smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll always be here for you. That's what family's for."

"Yes. Yes it is."