This is a sequel of sorts to "Dog Tag." It's not 100% necessary that you read "Dog Tag" first, but you would be really wise to if you want to fully appreciate this story. I would highly highly recommend it.

Before you get confused, the timeline in this story is not chronological. It jumps around.

For now, this is a one-shot. But that's subject to change. I've been toying with an idea to extend this, but it may not come for a while.

Check-Ups

x - x - x

The local news channel, as usual, was full of ghosts.

David saw enough of ghosts when he was out and about, day-to-day – something a citizen living in Amity Park couldn't really avoid. It wasn't that ghosts didn't appear elsewhere, it was just that they tended to converge in Amity in an abnormally concentrated amount. The professionals couldn't seem to agree on why that was, though there were many theories. David tended to agree with the acclaimed Fentons' pet theory, for personal reasons.

Because of this wretched familiarity of ghosts, David didn't normally care to watch the news whenever the coverage turned to ghosts. It was usually the same story over and over. Warnings to stay indoors until the danger had passed, speculation on a ghost's motives, interviews with eyewitnesses, and live video coverage of the attack followed by the inevitable appearance of Amity Park's own vigilante: Danny Phantom. Followed by the inevitable defeat and capture of the offending ghost.

This last part was the only reason why David had started paying attention to Ghost Watch again, which was what the news station called that special section of coverage.

Lori sat down beside him on the couch cradling two cups of steaming tea. "Ghost Watch again, dear?"

He accepted the tea without looking away from the screen. "Yeah. Seems there's always a new ghost."

"You used to hate watching coverage of the attacks." Lori was aware how deep David's hatred of ghosts went. She'd had to calm his fury many a night after he'd come home from the hospital, bone-tired, raving about the latest bout of injuries stemming from some ghost. "Whatever happened to that?"

David shrugged. "It's better to know what's happening than to ignore it."

His eyes were glued to the shaking video feed as it followed Phantom through a busy intersection, where the cars had all pulled to the side of the road. He couldn't help squeezing the mug in his hand tightly as the ghost resembling an elephant-sized tiger gave Phantom a run for his money. Phantom was fast but this thing had the reflexes of – well, of a cat. He cringed as the glowing cat slashed at Phantom's back before he had time to dodge or go intangible. It wasn't long before Amity's protector was able to snare the tiger in a beam of blue light, trapping it into his portable thermos.

His wife shouted in triumph and nearly spilled her tea on David as she shot her fist into the air. It was amusing. She was always as invested in the ghost fights as regular people were about football games. She had five different t-shirts sporting Danny Phantom's face and logo. Right now she was wearing a black jersey style shirt that said "Phantom" on the back where the sport's player's name would normally go.

But David was too preoccupied to take amusement in that ironic fact like he usually did. He had counted three direct-contact injuries that Phantom hadn't steered clear of in time. Two looked minor but the one on his lower back looked rather gruesome.

The reporter holding the camera was trying to chase down Phantom for an interview (which was typical of them) but (typical of Phantom) he managed to escape them easily. And without further action, the news switched to the weather. Just another day in the life in Amity Park.

David pulled out his cell and made sure the volume was on high. He didn't always get the call but he liked to be ready for the times it did come.

. . . . .

One Wednesday afternoon David had been out at the library, returning a book, when his phone rang. It was Tina from Amity Northwest.

"I'm not even on call today," he said curtly without offering a greeting, "so I hope this isn't work-related."

"Sorry, David," she offered apologetically. "I know it's short notice but is there any chance you could come in?"

"Just call someone else. I haven't had a day off since last Sunday."

"We need you specifically."

"What for?"

"There's an unruly patient here. It looks like he's got a several major bone fractures, but we haven't been able to do any scans. He limped in the front door himself, but now he won't give us any information and won't let anyone so much as touch him. Not even to take his blood pressure, let alone put an IV in his arm."

"So what? Not my problem."

"See that's the thing. He asked for you by name. He said he won't see any doctor but you."

David's retort died in his throat. "Did he uh.. did he say what his name was?"

"Said his name was Danny Fenton. It's funny, because we have medical records of the kid up until he was fourteen, and then it seems he stopped going in for physicals altogether, or for anything at all for that matter. No records after age fourteen, and he looks like he's maybe twenty years old. You know anything about this guy?"

"… I'll be right in, Tina. Tell him I'm on my way."

. . . . .

The phone call he was only half-expecting came after the weather report had ended, and the station was playing a special about the high school's science fair. David stepped out onto the apartment balcony, assuring his wife it was someone from work. He had this contact's ringtone set as the Ghostbusters theme. No one could say David didn't have a sense of humor, as messed up as it may be.

"What's up doc."

David rolled his eyes. He thought he was so funny. "That was a nasty scratch, Danny."

"You were watching, huh?"

"It's hard not to. I like to know ahead of time if there's going to be a mess for me to clean up."

"Aw, I thought you liked when I visited."

"Hardly. A visit from you equals an injury. No doctor likes seeing their patients in pain."

"Well I promise I'll visit sometime when I'm not bleeding out the wazoo, deal?"

David had to chuckle. Danny was forever making a joke out of everything, even his own injuries.

"So, are you at the hospital?"

"No, I'm at home. But you know what, why don't you just stop by? I have plenty medical supplies here. And that way we don't have to forge all my stats. Every time I do that I'm really pushing my luck you know."

There was an extended silence on Danny's end. "You sure you wanna treat me at home? ..What about your wife? I'm sure she is going to want to know why you're stitching up a random guy in your kitchen."

"She's Danny Phantom's biggest fan."

He waited patiently while Danny mulled it over.

"More people know my secret already than I would care for. I don't tell people lightly, you know."

"Just people you trust, right?"

"…Right."

David plunged forward, even more certain than he'd been before. ""I've been considering this for a while, Danny. It's risky for me to treat you at work, where my coworkers are constantly asking questions about you. About why you refuse to be treated by anyone other than me. People are more curious every time you come in with a new injury. And it's dangerous to my job to continue forging test results to hide your anomalies."

Danny sighed on the other end of the line. David didn't like bringing that part up. Danny had already expressed time and again how much he hated putting David's career at risk. In fact, David had needed to convince Danny on more than one occasion to continue coming to see him. He'd rather put his job at risk than let Danny patch himself up inexpertly (which he had apparently been doing for years, much to David's horror) or risk being exposed to another doctor.

He continued. "Which is why I think it's important that you only go to the hospital in the most extreme of circumstances. For the little stuff, we could handle it at my house."

Danny scoffed. "Little stuff? I feel like someone took a cheese grater to my back."

David cringed. There was that sense of humor again. If he was a psychiatrist he might have said it was Danny's coping mechanism for pain. But he wasn't. He was a doctor. He was Danny's doctor.

"So what do you say Danny?"

"Isn't this against your doctor oath or something?"

David frowned. It was. As a doctor in America he was legally prohibited from treating patients in the way he was suggesting to Danny. "You're kind of a unique case. The rules don't apply, as I've mentioned before." Another extended pause. "Have I convinced you yet?" He was never quite sure with Danny.

"I don't really have a choice do I?" His tone was light. "I could have Sam do the stitches but I have some nasty scars from back in high school when I let her near my meaner cuts with a needle."

David bit back a good scolding. It was his doctor instinct. He'd heard enough medical horror stories from Danny to make his inner doctor keel over dead ten times over.

"So you'll come?"

"…Your wife's not one of those fans with memorabilia collections is she? Because I think I might laugh myself into a coma if there's a framed picture of me on your mantelpiece."

"She's more of a jersey-wearing kind of fan." David couldn't wait to see the look on Lori's face when she found out he was Danny Phantom's personal doctor.

"Hope I don't give her a heart attack. Text me your address?"

"Will do, Danny. See you soon."

. . . . .

Once Danny had been half-carried into the recently renovated ER lobby by his two friends, followed by his parents. David clocked back in early from his lunch as soon as his pager went off.

The young man and woman glared at him suspiciously when David entered the room the nurse had brought Danny to. Tucker and Sam, if his memory served. David thought it was a miracle that nobody ever connected these two people to Danny Phantom. Every time David tuned into Ghost Watch they seemed to be lurking somewhere on the scene, assisting Phantom surreptitiously from the sidelines. The three of them seemed to be attached at the hip.

If Danny Phantom was Amity Park's guard dog, Tucker and Sam were Danny's guard dogs.

The parents were a new thing. David had not met them before, though he had certainly heard of Jack and Maddie Fenton. They were among the leading experts on ghosts in Amity Park, and had become somewhat world-renowned since the incident with the asteroid. They stood by Danny's bed protectively, sizing up David. If he had a knife he could have cut through the thick tension.

David cleared his throat. "What's the problem today, Danny?"

Danny was sitting at the edge of his bed, looking thoroughly miserable. He had deep purple circles under his eyes, and he was clutching his stomach with one arm. "Nothing. I told them I didn't need to come-"

"Oh hush Danny," Maddie interrupted. "Are you Dr. Benson?" she asked him, her tone of voice much politer than her stare.

"That's me. Is something wrong with Danny?"

"No," Danny growled, at the same time the other four people all said, "Yes."

"Danny, don't be stupid," Sam said, crossing her arms. "He got this cut a few days ago from Skulker. From some new weapon of his."

"A cut?"

"It wasn't even that deep," Danny complained.

Tucker frowned. "But the thing is it hasn't started healing."

David vividly remembered his firsthand experience witnessing Danny's remarkable regenerative properties. "I'm a quick healer," Danny had joked that day, not knowing that David had already seen it for himself.

"We're worried whatever the ghost cut him with is stopping the wound from healing on its own," Maddie explained. "I took a sample of the tissue and there seems to be a strange foreign substance there. We're working on identifying it and counteracting its properties."

"And I've almost got the answer pinned!" Jack exclaimed. "That Skulker is no match for the Fentons' scientific minds."

David was out of his element here. He could treat Danny's human half but his ghost half was way beyond his expertise. That's why Danny usually only came to him with purely human ailments. Stuff like this, well that was best left to the experts – i.e. Danny's parents.

"But that's not the problem," Sam said, glaring at Danny.

"Then what is?" David asked, baffled.

Danny was staring at his knees uncomfortably.

Tucker answered, also glaring at Danny. "The problem is that he didn't tell anyone his cut wasn't healing."

"Yeah," Sam fumed, "maybe we could have stitched it up and prevented this whole thing!"

Danny was beginning to look like he was going to faint, or vomit. His breathing seemed to be quickened and labored, and he shivered suddenly.

"Danny?" David asked in alarm, snapping into full doctor-mode and pushing past the hovering parents. "Have you been experiencing a fever at all?"

Danny looked up at him and snickered, despite his haggard look. "I don't get fevers," he assured him. "I'm a walking ice cube. See, look." And Danny pursed his lips and breathed out a thin stream of frosty air, freezing the pen in David's coat pocket. But as soon as he did that he shivered violently again.

"I'm going to take your vitals, okay Danny?"

His family looked on uncertainly as David did his job. Meanwhile David's frown grew more and more pronounced. The blood pressure was much lower than it should be. Where Danny's normal healthy bpm was already below a regular person's fatal level, it was reading 35 right now. Additionally, his breath rate was far too high. Not good. "Have you been throwing up at all, Danny?"

Danny gave his family a furtive look and then glanced at David sheepishly. "Um.. yes."

His family exploded into him at that, each of them chiding him for hiding the fact that he was so ill.

This wasn't good at all. All the signs seemed to say that Danny was septic, and while it was treatable it could have escalated into something much more serious if he had waited any longer to seek medical attention. "Why did you wait to come in?" David asked him incredulously.

Danny wouldn't look at him, instead picking at the sheet he was sitting on idly. He looked for all the world like a little kid caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Danny this is serious!" David insisted, unable to keep the scorn from his voice. He could never comprehend why the boy didn't take his physical safety more seriously. It seemed to be forever pushed to the bottom of his list of priorities, and that wasn't something David was okay with as a doctor who took his job seriously. "You may have blood poisoning. If you had waited any longer this would be a very different situation. Why didn't you come in right away?"

"Because of last time," he answered, resting his chin on his hands. "I thought it would be better if I didn't come see you anymore."

The family all looked at David questioningly. His mouth hung open.

Last time.

. . . . .

Danny had come in with all the bones in his left hand shattered.

The boy was right when he told David he was a quick healer, but the worse the injury the longer it took to heal. And with cases like broken bones it was important that Danny get proper treatment – meaning in this case, a cast for his hand. He wouldn't need to wear it long, but if he didn't then the injury would begin to heal itself without the bones being set properly.

That day David had to re-break two of Danny's fingers which had already begun to heal themselves. He remembered Danny's pale face as he closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and kept silent while David reset the bones in his hand, hoping to god the nurse wouldn't walk in.

It seemed that every time Danny came in the injury was worse, and every time it was harder to come up with a viable story to feed to his superiors. Not to mention that it had to be fed to the insurance company as well, who'd become rather interested in the wide ranging and unlikely variety of Daniel Fenton's hospitalizations.

That time it had become necessary to "lose" the x-ray showing Danny's fractures. David would never be able to explain away the irregularities there. How a day old break had already begun to heal in several places. There'd been hell to pay from his boss for that one.

He didn't know Danny had been in the break room listening to David's boss let him have it, until his boss left the room. David had slumped down at the table, running his hand down his face haggardly. Danny suddenly materialized in the seat across from him, his own face mirroring David's gaunt expression.

"David, I am so sorry."

. . . . .

"Everyone get out," David commanded.

Every person in the room gaped at David in shock.

"Everyone except Danny," he clarified. "I need to speak to my patient in private."

They all narrowed their eyes at him, but Danny just sighed and waved at them dismissively. "It's okay guys, just do what he says."

But they all glared at David as they filed out of the room, and Jack gave his son a squeeze on the shoulder and said, "Just call us if you need us, son."

You'd think by the way they looked at David that he was an agent with the Guys in White or something. Sheesh.

"I know, I know," Danny muttered as Sam closed the door behind her. "I screwed up. It's my own stupid fault."

"Danny, this is not about fault. This is about your physical wellbeing. It worries me that it isn't more of a priority to you."

Danny's eyes shot up. "It is a priority to me," he said defensively.

"Right, but you put it below everything else on your list. I understand why you didn't come in now, and I can only blame myself for not making it more clear to you."

Danny raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"It's true that breaking policy to treat you jeopardizes my job, and my medical license." Danny winced hard, but David wasn't finished. "But the reason I became a doctor is to help people. It used to drive me crazy, working as a doctor in this city. So often I would get a patient in from a ghost attack and fix them up, only to see the same patient in my ER a few weeks later, injured from a different attack. It's maddening, Danny. I wanted so badly to help but I was at a loss. Then you showed up and presented me with the solution. You help this city in a way that nobody else can. And in order to help you, I must break some rules. But you have to let me help you Danny. You have to allow me to take the same sort of risk you take yourself."

Danny seemed at a loss for words.

"Now I'm going to have to run a few tests to see if you've contracted a blood infection, and try to identify the bacteria. We'll get you immediately on some antibiotics. You'd better tell your parents to kick it into high gear on figuring out that mysterious substance that kept your wound from healing, which is likely why you got the infection. That way we can prevent this happening in the future."

"I.. don't know what to say."

"You can tell me you won't wait this long next time."

. . . . .

Lori slapped him on the shoulder. "That is not funny, David. Don't play with my emotions like that!"

David laughed. This wouldn't be easy. "I assure you Lori, I've never been more serious than I am right now. He should be here any minute."

Disbelief dominated her face. She was so beautiful. She was only two years younger than David but he always thought age had treated her much more nicely than it had treated him. But right now she just looked like she wanted to hit him again. "I don't understand."

"You will."

As if the fates had ordained it, there was a tentative knock on the front door. When David opened it and Danny Phantom waved hello, his wife fainted.

While David made sure his wife hadn't hurt herself falling on the kitchen tile, Danny hovered over them, saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"I thought you would show up as Fenton," he said, more amused than worried. His wife was star-struck, nothing more.

"Well, you said she was a fan so I thought it would be fun… I didn't think she would faint though!"

"Yeah well, you've never met my wife."

Danny caught sight of his wife's DP shirt. "Oh man, I thought you were joking about the jersey." He tilted his head back and laughed himself silly. That boy laughed more than anybody David knew. Like the whole world was one big punch line.

David left Lori on the couch and Danny on a stool in the kitchen while he rounded up supplies from the bathroom. Antiseptic, gauze, the works.

Danny was in human form and had peeled his shirt off when David got back. His head almost touched the pots hanging from the fixture overhead. The kid had grown several inches in the two years since he'd first met him. He was so tall now it was almost comical to watch early footage of Danny Phantom. Of course, Danny always seemed to get very testy whenever someone mentioned how short he used to be. Touchy subject, apparently.

David sucked in his breath at the sight of the claw-mark on Danny's lower back. Danny was trying to crane his head around to look at the wound. "Is it as gnarly as it feels?" he asked David.

"It looks like a giant ghost tiger clawed you."

"Thanks, that's helpful," Danny retorted dryly.

As David cleaned away the red and green mixture of blood surrounding the wound, Danny didn't make a sound. He knew it must burn like hell, but Danny never let on. It always bothered David that he seemed so used to the pain of it. Nobody should be so familiar with pain.

"I don't know how you managed all these years with only Tucker and Sam to patch you up," David said, as he began to stitch up the nastiest of the claw marks.

"Yeah well, I didn't really have a choice," Danny shrugged. "Luckily it was never anything too serious. And it was only two years before my parents found out. That was helpful, having them around."

"But they still weren't doctors."

"No," Danny laughed. "It was like having a mechanic try to restore a painting. They're brilliant but.. I have to say, it's very nice to have an actual licensed doctor fixing me up these days. Forgot what a luxury it is. You know the stitches I've gotten from you have left barely any scars? I have this one really nasty one on my leg from freshman year of high school – first year I had my powers, first time Sam tried to do stitches." He snorted in remembrance. "It looks like somebody attacked my leg with a weed wacker."

At that moment Lori stepped into the kitchen, staring openly at David and Danny. Her head cocked to the side, looking at Danny in confusion. "What happened to Danny Phantom?" she asked quietly.

"What's up," Danny responded, saluting her. "Sorry for the scare."

"David, what is going on? Who is this?"

Danny eyed David accusingly. "You didn't explain the most important part did you?"

David had the good grace to look sheepish.

. . . . .