Dcxdp ficlet pt 2 HERE for pt 1
"Just tell me. Please." Superman sighed. He knew he shouldn't have gotten involved. He should have just told Bruce to tell his kids that Phantom was off limits. He remembered a conversation he, as Clark Kent, had had with Danny Fenton back when the topic of hero/civilian identities had first come up and Phantom had finally trusted them enough to let them in on the secret of halfas. He hadn't gotten into the specifics, knew that even Batman knowing how it happened could bring risk. but the fact that he had trusted them enough to tell them any of it at all was still huge. Especially given all they learned afterwards.
The two had met up at Clark's place as civilians in Metropolis. Just to pretend they were normal for a little while and hang out with someone that knew what it was like to be utterly alone in the universe. Danny had managed to home-brew something that would actually get the Kryptonian drunk and carefully added some to each of Clark's drinks. Ensuring that they both got fairly tipsy.
It hadn't been as obvious then. Sure, Fenton was taller than Phantom was but Phantom rarely had legs, so it was impossible to compare. and Fenton was a little broader than Phantom but Phantom radiated power and authority, making it easy to overlook. Phantom had a tendency to speak with an echo and modify his voice so the voices weren't comparable either. They were both chaotic and sarcastic and willing to do whatever it took to help someone in need. No matter the personal cost. One could miss it. They were supposed to be different people. They were supposed to miss it. And back then, they didn't have the trust or the rapport with the hero to ask about it.
They had been in the living room of Clark's shoe box apartment. Each a few drinks in. Still sober enough that they would remember the conversation but not so much as to not have it. Clark didn't remember how it came up. But he remembered a barely 18 year old Danny staring into the distance and saying "sometimes I think they're right you know? And I really am just a dead boy pretending at being alive. I heard Constantine and Batman talking when they first found out. I know he didn't mean it like that. and it's not like I haven't heard it before. And it's not true. but sometimes, I believe them. Just a little bit. And I am dead. But then I see myself in the mirror and I see that I'm aging. I step on a scale and the numbers are higher than last time. The dead can't manipulate their own density like the living can. Just change the shape of it. and I'm taller than I was. not as tall as I would've been had the accident not happened, but taller than I was at 14. and I know I'm still alive. Even if I am barely breathing. But I still can't help that part of me that believes them. ya know?"
This was unforgivable, what he was about to do. He shouldn't have gotten involved. But this was his friend, and he was a reporter, he needed to know what had happened and make sure his friend was alright. But Danny was giving him THAT look and he knew he couldn't stop it now.
His ma was going to kill him.
"Kal." The Man of Steel sighed, held up a finger and left the room, he came back shortly thereafter with a small mirror in his hands. He stood in front of Danny.
"are you sure?" a small nod. He gingerly placed the mirror into the waiting hand, "I'm sorry."
Phantom gasped and gently touched his face before hightailing it out of the room. Superman close behind.
Clark found him in the bathroom, staring into the larger mirror the room held. He watched as something in Phantom broke, his tail- two legs planted solidly on the ground. His left hand gripping the counter top for dear life as his right traced the nonexistent lines on his face.
The Watchtower wasn't the place for this. He needed to get Danny out of there. He pulled the ghost gently away from the sink, listened for nearby heartbeats to find a clear path to the zeta tubes, and gently led him away, out of the bathroom, down and around hallways and stairways, and to the room that held the zeta's. He typed in their security clearances and a destination and squeezed them both in. Glad that no one was around to see them flush against each other. They arrived, the door opened and they both stumbled out.
"You're alive. Danny. Look at me. You're alive. You're not pretending or lying or anything like that. You are as alive as you are dead. They're wrong. You know they are." Clark held the man by the shoulders and looked directly into his eyes while speaking. Not so much as blinking. There was a flash and Fenton was before him once more. "See. Still alive. 250lbs of solid muscle. The dead can't change their density. You're heavier than you were all those years ago. You are still you."
Danny closed his eyes as tears started falling and a sob rocked through him. Clark pulled the man in and held him. This was different. This was grief. Clark wasn't sure what was happening exactly but his friend was grieving. So he did what he did when any of his friends were grieving and held Danny tight. Let him process whatever he needed to processes. Understand whatever Clark was unable to. In that moment they weren't two hero's, or a ghost and a Kryptonian. Or an astrochemist and a reporter. They were just Danny Fenton and Kal-El.
"I really did die. I mean. I knew I had. Obviously. but, I dunno. It never really felt real? ya know? There wasn't a funeral or anything. I just...went to school the next day. Like nothing had happened. And obviously I could 'go ghost' but 'going ghost' was...different. I didn't die. Not like Dead die. I got better. I died ya. but I wasn't DEAD. not dead-dead. Even when I kinda believe that they're right about me pretending to be alive. That's different. That's like....Saying I'm an imposter or a liar or something. But. I died. like actually died and stayed that way died. I can be alive. But when I'm dead I am actually. I'm actually dead. Forever stuck celebrating my 14th birthday. Just like all the other ghosts. I'm dead. and I don't get like resurrected and then die again but I'm dead the whole time. and Also not dead at all. Completely alive, growing, changing, aging. Both completely disregarding the reality of the other. yet still able to be influenced by the other. Which also shouldn't work." Danny started crying again.
"I died Kal. I died and no one noticed." Danny's voice cracked as he choked back a sob. His grief palpable in the air.
"Danny..." He didn't know what to say. What was there to say? it's okay? it wasn't ok. He was processing a nearly 2 decade old trauma that everyone in his life had had a loud opinion on while simultaneously refusing to acknowledge what the base of all those opinions meant. A truth too terrible to name.
Danny had died. Horribly and tragically. A 14 year old had had an interdimennsional portal ripped open on top of them. Probably the most painful death to have ever occurred in the multiverse.
Happened to a 14 year old.
And then he got 'better'.
So the world shrugged and moved on and told him he was 1,000 things he wasn't. and never gave him so much as a condolence card let alone a grave. Something Zantana had made clear were sacred places for ghosts. Unthinkable for even the greatest of foes to tamper with or disrespect. Celebrating death days was more than a sacred tradition, it was foundational to the fabric of ghost society. Which is why JLD had been so stilted when no one would tell them Phantom's. They had thought that he would take it as a grave offense. But he had danced around the topic too, had sworn all who knew to silence. They could never figure out why everyone agreed. Not asking a ghost about their death was fundamental. But so too was acknowledging the day itself. So, asking others was a normal way to obtain that information. Even after being asked not to share it-that too was part of the complicated system ghosts had created since reality began. Adhering to the request was something none of them had been able to figure out or understand.
They didn't realize he was deaddead.
To tell them would be to say that their friend died on his 14th birthday. and then celebrate that fact.
And their friend couldn't be dead.
He moved them to a couch. Sat Danny down, squeezed his hand and stepped away. He found the kitchenette. Made two warm beverages, sent a text, and made his way back to his grieving friend. He couldn't change the past. But he could rectify the future.
