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Ember would like it on record that they didn’t know. Halfas were so rare that no sane ghost ever expected to meet one. She wasn’t even sure how Halfas were even created . It couldn’t be as simple as getting revived via CPR or something. If that was the case, Halfas would be everywhere .
The portal in Amity Park was rare enough as it was, thinking that Phantom was a Halfa on top of it all was an impossibility.
So she didn’t think anything of it when she went to Amity Park after hearing about the permanent portal. (And wasn’t that a treat, a way to always have access to the Living Realm. An audience for her music. How could she resist?)
When she met Phantom, he was , admittedly, a little off. He didn’t feel like other ghosts, but Ember wasn’t that old herself. She’d never come across a ghost so young before. She could tell, in that first meeting, that his core was still forming. That his obsession hadn’t settled. She’d overheard older ghosts laughing about play fighting with young ghosts, how it helped them develop their powers and was important for their growth.
There was a niggling inside, under her need for people to hear her, to play with Phantom. So she amped up her show--and put on a show. She didn’t really care about hypnotizing people. It wouldn’t really hurt them, but the little ghost was determined to protect them. She fought him, trying to find the right balance. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he wouldn’t appreciate being treated like a baby either.
She had hated it, herself. Hated how she could tell just how much the older ghosts were holding back, their corrections coming off as mocking.
So she didn’t correct him and only dialed back enough so as not to do permanent damage. And he did well! A couple of bumps and bruises but he faced her while she had the entire world chanted her name and won. She had to say, the thermos he used to pop them all back into the Infinite Realms was unconventional, but it made sure everyone knew he won.
It had been fun, getting out in the Living Realm for a while. She didn’t really want to take over the world--having everyone knowing her name was nice, but she’d get bored with everyone obeying her pretty quick. It had also been fun playing with such a young ghost. He was still learning and he did things in such a weird way.
Maybe that should’ve been her first clue. Maybe she should have realized then what he was.
She’d had too much fun. Hadn’t looked close enough. Hadn’t realized his desperation was real, that he didn’t know she was playing . That his core needed the stimulation.
She never saw the damage the sleepless nights fighting caused, the missed homeworks, the failed tests. When he complained about school, she thought it was a leftover habit. She’d done similar, bitching about a curfew that didn’t exist anymore. Hell, Poindexter rarely even came to the Realms, content to haunt Casper High. There was always something from life that ghosts couldn’t leave behind. Sometimes they become obsessions, other times they were just little quirks.
She hates how much she’d dismissed. How much she didn’t notice. As the older ghosts in this situation, she was supposed to keep an eye on Phantom! They all were.
Well, most of them. She knew a couple of them didn’t give a damn about Phantom, or that he was so young. They actually wanted the Living Realm to suffer and didn’t care what they damaged in the meantime. Ember had mind controlled most of the world, but she hadn’t harmed anyone. Ghosts like Undergrowth and Vortex, though, they didn’t care . They considered the Living Realm more theirs than the humans that called it home. It was a right to them, won by age and conquest and power.
She worried about Phantom when he was facing ghosts like that, that he felt the need to. They wouldn’t care if they harmed him in a way that he couldn’t heal from. His core wasn’t even fully formed and he was out there fighting ghosts that would give her nightmares if she still slept. She heard whispers from some of the regulars in Amity about those fights. She’d learned to brace herself when she heard things about Phantom, waiting for someone to pass along that he’d lost. That his core simply couldn’t take the strain and he’d broken or faded.
There was a line, with baby ghosts. They needed interaction with older ghosts, from play fights to guiding mentorship. Some ghosts just straight up adopted young ones, folding them into a family and protecting them. But it was easy to go too hard. To put too much power in an ectoblast, overwhelm with whatever element or influence an older ghost commanded. Even Ember had to tread carefully with her music--and she was hardly a match for some of the ghosts Phantom was rumbling with.
But news of Phantom’s demise never reached her and every time she went into Amity Park, he was there. He was stronger and faster every time. There was still something weird about him, even as his core started to develop and grow.
She put off the signs.
She should have known, when he still clung so close to the humans he called his friends. To the one he called sister. She should have known, when he looked tired. When he flinched from ectoblasts that shouldn’t have hurt. When he still didn’t seem to understand basic things--Haunts and Obsessions and other instincts seemingly not affecting him in ways she recognized. Or hitting a little to the left, with much more confusion than should be warranted for something so primal.
It still hits her like a blast to the core when she hears.
When she learns.
She was back in the Realms, doing some traveling. The Realms were vast and there were still so many places she hadn’t seen. So many ghosts that hadn’t heard her songs. Stories she hadn’t heard that she could turn into music. She hadn’t meant to get so close to the Ancients. Hadn’t expected them to be so far from the parts of the Realms they called home. She’d never seen Clockwork before. Heard of him, of course. Heard stories--and it was impossible to tell what was fact and what was fiction.
She’d seen Nocturn before, having been close to the portal when he’d gotten spit back into the Realms. That thermos was a nifty thing. It was hilarious to imagine a ghost as Ancient and feared as Nocturn getting shoved into the thing and dumped back like an unwanted fish.
(She didn’t understand why Nocturn went to the Living Realm to begin with. Why he felt the need to go after Phantom. Ancients rarely showed themselves outside of their Lairs and whatever meetings they had. She didn’t think Nocturn actually cared about dominating the Living Realm, but who the hell knew with Ancients.
She also had no idea how Phantom won. )
She couldn’t help her curiosity when she saw the Ancients together. Clockwork wasn’t very visible, buried in his cloak as he was, but Nocturn’s vast form was unmistakable.
“He’s a clever one,” Clockwork says, his voice wobbly with age. There’s a hunch to him that speaks of ages Ember has never known. She’s long since stopped thinking of herself as a young ghost, but to ghosts like Clockwork, she’s practically an infant. His form shifts, the hunch vanishing and now his voice is younger, more solid. “Gaining strength by the day.”
“He seems more stable than the other,” Nocturn says, his voice deep and penetrating. It vibrates in his chest like subwoofers. “Both in core and mentally.”
“I told you,” And now Clockwork’s voice is young. He almost sounds like he’s pouting . “He is more balanced than Plasmius.”
“That hardly takes much,” Nocturn intones, dismissive. “Plasmius is doomed if he cannot get a handle on his obsession. To put such focus on a human woman is to ask for tragedy.”
Clockwork shifts again, his hair cascading down in a braid. He looks only a few years older than Ember. “You don’t foresee the same problem with the humans Phantom clings to?”
Phantom. They’re talking about Phantom? What could the little brat have done to gain their attention? Besides somehow defeating Nocturn.
Nocturn laughs. “You would know better than I, but no. Those little friends of his are growing as he does. They cling back just as hard, as you well know. A fearsome Fraid in the making.”
Ember’s jaw drops. Human? In a Fraid? There’s a world of context she’s missing. They’re talking like Phantom and Plasmius are something different . Something to keep an eye on.
Clockwork hums, the sound shifting as he does. “I see the paths, the possibilities. But you know as well as I, how easy it is to get lost in the future and forget the present.”
“At present,” Nocturn says, tone dry--and teasing? Are they joking with each other right now? There’s a curl to Nocturn’s form, something that reads as amused and pleased. That is so her cue to get out of here. “Of the two halfas I have met, I prefer Phantom to Plasmius.”
Ember freezes and her ponytail’s flames sputter out.
“Halfa?” she practically screams, shock slamming her core.
Oh, fuck.
Halfas are so different from full ghosts. She’s never gotten a real run down on it, but she’s not dumb. Halfas have a human half to care for, a life still to lead. She may not know the hows or the whys, the ectobiological differences, but she does know that. Phantom isn’t a baby ghost to play with at all hours, to challenge and eventually guide into the Realms.
Phantom has a human side to protect. She doesn’t know how the injuries from his ghost half carry over, how dangerous it is for him to overuse his powers if his human half can’t take the strain. He has a human side that still needs sleep and food--and he goes to school.
All the things that no long matter to ghosts still matter to him.
They’ve seriously fucked up.
No wonder he seemed so different. No wonder he still clung so hard to life--he wasn’t fully dead. How much have they been hurting him? Humans are so squishy, so easy to break. No wonder he just shoved them into that damn thermos and tossed them back into the Realms instead of hanging out after a fight. He didn’t know they weren’t serious. He didn’t know they weren’t trying to harm him.
There’s panic fluttering around her core, an uncomfortable squeeze. She’s got to let the other regulars to Amity Park know. She’s got to talk to Phantom, clear up the misconceptions.
If she finds out they knew and didn’t tell her, she’s going to steal a thermos from Phantom and keep a collection in her Lair, she swears to the Ancients.
She runs into Johnny and Kitty first, out on a ride. They’re annoyed at the interruption and normally she wouldn’t have dared. Johnny and Kitty getting along is so much better than them fighting. She can sense Shadow lurking, ready to send her packing with a prank.
“Listen, it’s important,” she says, her fingers tapping on her guitar in an uncontrolled rhythm. “It’s about Phantom.”
Something dark passes over Johnny’s face and Kitty closes her eyes, letting out a sigh.
“He’s okay,” Ember adds quickly and the couple pretends not to be relieved by the news. “As far as I know, anyway. I overheard something. From Nocturn.”
Kitty’s eyebrows shoot up and Johnny’s eyes narrow. “I heard Nocturn paid Amity a visit.”
“Paid Phantom a visit,” Ember corrects. “He was checking out Phantom, not as a baby ghost but as a Halfa.”
Kitty gasps and Johnny goes pale. Well, paler. Shadow slinks over, winding around Johnny’s form. “Shit,” Johnny says, swallowing hard. “Shit, I thought--I thought he was like me. I can pass for alive--I thought he could do the same. I thought he just didn’t know how to let go.”
“Are you sure?” Kitty asks, her hands buried in Johnny’s jacket.
“I don’t think Nocturn would pull a prank ,” Ember says. “Let alone start a rumor about a halfa.”
“Shit,” Johnny mutters again, running a hand through his hair. “The punk’s still alive? What do little halfas even need?”
Kitty furrows her brows, resting her head on Johnny’s back. “Things humans need. Sleep and food.”
“But his core still needs fights!” Johnny exclaims. “Still needs to be around formed ectoplasm and have a good flow of ambient.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Ember says, trying to hide her surprise. She didn’t know Johnny cared this much. It makes a little sense, though. They’ve all spent a lot of time in Amity and with Phantom. It’s easy to care for him, to be proud of how he’s growing. Even when he’s infuriating she can’t help but admire his conviction. “Listen, can you pass the word along? I’ve gotta talk to him.”
Johnny and Shadow exchange glances and in an instant, Shadow’s gone, flickering into the depths of the Realm. She doesn’t understand Johnny and Shadows relationship. She can’t tell if Shadow is connected to Johnny and formed when he did. Or if Shadow is his own entity that for some reason linked himself to Johnny.
“We’ll pass it on,” Johnny says. “The usual bunch?”
“Yeah,” Ember says. She regards him, her eyes narrow. “If any of them knew babypop was a halfa and didn’t tell us gets souped, okay?”
Kitty laughs, the sound like crashing bells. “You and I need to hang out more. You get the thermos and I’ll help you get them in, deal?”
Ember grins, even as Johnny groans. “Deal,”
Kitty leans forward on the bike, kissing Johnny on the cheek. “I’ll pass the word to Walker and his boys. He’ll just arrest you.”
“I don’t understand why he doesn’t go after you too,” Johnny grumbles. “I like that he doesn’t mess with you, baby, but it doesn't make sense.”
“Walker may have his rules, but he’s not stupid,” Kitty laughs, throwing herself off the bike and hovering above it. “Thanks for the date,”
“More later,” Johnny says, his grin rakish. Ember rolls her eyes and pointedly flies off. They’ll keep this up for hours and she doesn’t have the stomach for it.
It is still better than them fighting, but sometimes it’s a close thing.
She puts the couple behind her and starts searching for the portal. She’s not stopping until Phantom knows .
It’s been a quiet day on the ghost front, Danny realizes when he’s able to get through a solid chunk of his homework without interruption. There’s still a ton of makeup work to do and he’s got an English essay due in a week, but he’s got tomorrow’s homework mostly done. It’s a drop in a pond, but he’s got to take what he’s given.
He’s losing focus on the Chem notes when there’s a crawling up his spine, a whisper of cold and his breath startles out of him, the vapor visible.
He sighs and sets the pen down, making sure to mark his page in the Chem textbook and hiding his completed work in the drawer of his desk. He stretches as he stands, letting the transformation fold over him as he does.
The transformation is as familiar as breathing now, spreading out from his chest and curling down his limbs. It still sends a slight sliver of fear down his spine as he feels his heart stop, as his breath freezes in his lungs. He thinks it always will, even though he knows he’s not dying permanently. The change is forever fascinating, how he goes from human to ghost in the space of instant. It’s like seeing things from both sides of a coin, each side irreversibly different from the other, but linked all the same.
He doesn’t have time to dwell, however, even though there’s still so much he doesn’t understand.
He flies out of his window, following the pull in his chest towards the ghost he sensed. For not having a heart in this form, he knows there’s still something there. He can feel it every time a ghost fight gets a little out of hand. Every time he takes a hit he’s not sure he can stand back up from.
Another thing to wonder about.
The flight is short, but odd. There’s no screaming, no shouts, no alarms or ectoblasts. Nothing that usually preludes a ghost fight. It’s almost…eerily calm.
He thinks he’d almost prefer the chaos.
It takes him almost five minutes to find her once he’s close. She’s sitting on a bench in the park, seemingly content to wait. There’s no music, no mind controlled people, no grand entrance.
Just Ember, idly tapping on her guitar, staring off into the trees.
He lands several feet away, wondering what the trick is. Her hand freezes on the guitar and he freezes in response, waiting for the attack. She lets out a long sigh and slowly, carefully, sets her guitar on the ground. She folds her legs up under her, tucking her hands into the folds at her knees.
“Hey, Babypop,” she says, with none of her usual attitude. “Thought we’d try something different tonight.”
“And that is…?” He asks, wary. He doesn’t like it when they change things up on him like this. He’s barely starting to understand this ghost thing and then they go and change the rules on him.
“Hanging out,” Ember says and Danny’s thought process officially screeches to a halt. “We don’t have to fight all the time, you know?”
“We…don’t?” Danny asks, because what . Ghosts always seem ready for a fight. There’s very few that didn’t immediately try and go after him.
“We don’t,” Ember says again, her voice firm. “We’ve got a couple things to talk about, actually.” For the life of him, Dann can’t figure out what. As much as he’s happy they’re not fighting, he also doesn’t really have time to talk about music genres or whatever. He eases closer, bending down and touching Ember’s guitar. It’s a little too close for his comfort. She stiffens and shifts, alarm passing over her face. Danny freezes, something cold in his chest.
He shifts back, taking his hand off. He chews on his lip, thinking. “Is this…crossing a line?”
She lets out a controlled breath, her flaming hair easing down. “A little, yeah. It’s…it’s mine, ya know? Like Johnny’s motorcycle.”
“Oh,” Danny says. After a moment, he sits on the bench next to Ember, leaving the guitar where it lies. “Sorry,”
“It’s okay,” Ember says. “You didn’t know. And that’s kinda what I want to talk about?”
Danny leans back against the bench, sighing in frustration. “There’s a lot I don’t know, Ember. That’s one of the few things I do know--how much I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,”
Danny sits back up, staring at Ember in shock. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” She repeats, looking contrite. “We made assumptions. There’s a lot you don’t know, but there’s one big thing we didn’t know. We messed up, Babypop.”
“We?” Danny manages, quickly losing track of this conversation. What the hell is Ember apologizing for? And why is she making it seem like she’s not the only one who’s sorry? There’s no other ghosts in the area, he can tell that much.
Ember shrugs. “The usual crew who hang out here.”
Okay, that explains a little but not a whole lot.
“What--what didn’t you know?” Danny asks, still trying to figure out what’s happening.
Ember turns slightly, facing him. Her shoulders are back and she looks serious. “We didn’t know you were a Halfa,”
Danny goes cold , shock thrumming around the not-heart in his chest. He can’t even form a thought, his mind a blank expanse.
“You--you didn’t?”
“No!” Ember exclaims, throwing her hands up. “You have any idea how rare halfas are? I never thought I’d meet one! The freaking Portal is crazy enough!”
“I don’t understand ,” Danny says, standing up and pacing in a tight circle. “How--how could you not know? Skulker calls me ghost child! He wants my pelt.”
“That’s what Skulker does,” Ember says, gesturing with her hands. “He seeks out young ghosts and ‘hunts’ them!” She puts hunts in quotes, like it’s some kind of game. “He tries to prepare them for if they come across ghost hunters, or bigger ghosts that might hurt them. He’s not actually going to skin you. But that’s why I’m here.”
“To tell me I’m a fucking idiot?” Danny snarls, suddenly furious. All this time--it was all a game?
“No,” Ember says, looking sad. Her ponytail is barely a fizzle of fire, the blue flame dull. “ We’re the idiots. We didn’t think twice with you. We just did what we thought was right for you. New ghosts--they need combat! They need to use their energy and keep a good flow going to develop right. Older ghosts fight with younger ones all the time for that. It’s not meant to be dangerous--it’s supposed to help.”
Danny stops, his legs vanishing from under him and forming into a wisping tail. He hovers, staring at Ember. She looks earnest and apologetic.
Danny swallows, trying to process. “You--you guys were just trying to help me?”
Ember seesaws a hand. “Mostly. The permanent portal and ambient ectoplasm are big draws too. The chance to be out in the Living Realm is rare. The chance to be out and have a town full of people to play with? Rarer still.”
Danny snarls, fury rising. “They aren’t playthings. They’re people! With lives to worry about! You can’t just snatch them up in your games.”
“Easy, babypop,” Ember says, hands up in an attempt to calm. “Most of us don’t really wanna hurt people, ya know. But…” She looks away, blushing a bit. “It’s easy to forget they’ve got their own things to do. We don’t really think of it as hurting them when we do our thing.”
“You mind controlled all of Amity and most of the world,” Danny blurts. Shit, he thinks, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.
Ember doesn’t attack, just leans back on the bench. “Yeah, I know. I got a little carried away. I--I haven’t had that many people saying my name. Got a little drunk on power. It’s probably a good thing you knocked me down a peg.”
“But--but you were trying to play fight with me?” Danny asks, still trying to wrap his head around that. All this time, they were just doing the ghost equivalent of a lion letting its cubs “attack” them? “You didn’t actually want to take over the world?”
“Yeah,” Ember says. “Most of us were, honestly. It’s kind of an instinct? But we should have realized you weren’t getting it. And no, dude, what the hell would I do with the world? Sounds boring. I just wanted people to listen.” Her ponytail flairs at that, the blue deepening.
“And what, now that you know I’m a halfa, you’re all gonna leave?” Something in him aches at the thought. He presses a hand to his chest, feeling like he’s shivering. Which is impossible because he doesn't feel heat or cold as Phantom.
Ember stands abruptly, her eyes wide with shock. “No, no! We’re not taking off. We’ve made too much of an impact on you to just leave. Your core’s still developing, dude, we aren’t going anywhere. We’re just…just gonna figure out how to do this in a way that doesn’t hurt your human side.”
Danny stares, because she can not be saying what he thinks she’s saying.
“You…you want to help?” The ghosts in Amity have been a constant since the portal opened. He’s the only one who’s been able to stop them and put them back in the Zone without harming them unnecessarily.
And they’ve been here for him? But they weren’t trying to harm him, they were trying to help him grow?
“Yeah,” Ember says softly. “We really, really messed up. We--I don’t think any of us have met a halfa before. And we haven’t really thought about human needs, either. I get that you’re angry and probably confused--”
“Yeah,” Danny laughs, emotion swirling. “I don’t even know what to do with this. I don’t even know what some of what you’re saying means. I don’t get your instincts, Ember. I don’t know what you mean by ‘my core is developing.’”
Ember closes her eyes, going pale at the edges. “I swear if we had known, we’d have done this differently. Can we try again?” she steps closer, her feet on the ground as she looks up at him. “Can you give us a chance? I talked to 13 and Kitty before I left, they’re gonna make sure no one knew and didn’t say. Pass the word on. We’re gonna do this differently, Phantom. We’re gonna do this right.”
Danny lets his legs form and he drops to the ground, eyeing Ember cautiously. She seems sincere. There’s a sense of regret-sorrow-shame in the air, vibrating in his chest. He’s learned that the emotions that aren’t his, the ones he can feel in the center of his chest, are usually what the other ghosts are feeling. It’s odd, to have this sense. To know what they’re feeling.
Is that something else that’s normal for ghosts? Something they would do by instinct alone and never question.
The idea of Ember and the others leaving is almost impossible to imagine. There’s a couple ghosts he’s fought that he’d be happy to never see again, but not Ember. Not Johnny or Kitty, even Shadow. Not a handful of others.
He wonders if this means he’ll be able to sleep. Do his homework.
Will he be able to get his grades back up? If he isn’t constantly defending Amity, can he think about the future again?
“Okay,” Danny says. He can’t do this anymore. Not if there’s another option. Not if he can work something out with his regulars. “Okay, let’s try.” Ember smiles, relief permeating the air. Danny lets his transformation pass over him, his heart kicking into gear, his lungs filling with air. Ember’s jaw drops, surprise and awe spreading over her face.
Danny holds out a hand. “My name’s Danny.”