"...AND THEN, WHEN THE GUY TRIED TO RUN OFF WITH THE STOLEN PHONE CHARGER, I JUST HIT HIM WITH A DOUBLE WEB TO THE LEGS AND ANOTHER ON HIS SNEAKER! THE GUY SPUN AROUND AND FELL LIKE A RAG DOLL! IT WAS EPIC!"
Peter's voice, or rather, Spider-Man's, echoed beside me as we—yes, we—patrolled the rooftops of Queens. A week had passed since the... accident. Since I became a half-ghost. And somehow, my life had turned into an intensive training session with a superhero who didn't know how to be quiet.
"Sounds... complicated," I replied, trying to sound interested while concentrating on not floating away involuntarily. Keeping myself solid and on the ground (or, in this case, on the roof) was still a challenge.
"It's all about timing and physics, Danny!" he said, doing a backflip and landing on his feet on the edge of the roof. "Something you, as a friend of quantum physics, should appreciate!"
"My 'friendship' with quantum physics turned me into this," I retorted, gesturing to my own body. "So right now, we're on neutral terms."
He laughed, the sound muffled by his mask. The night training had become our routine. I was slowly starting to learn the basics of my powers: I could fly in a straight line without hitting a building, become intangible on purpose, and, the hardest part, how to turn back to normal afterwards.
Every time I transformed, a wave of cold ran through me, and a strange echo surrounded my voice. And the tiredness... wow. Being a half-ghost consumed an energy I didn't even know I had.
That's when our senses—or, in his case, his "spider-sense"—went off at the same time.
"Speaking of timing..." Peter tilted his head, looking down towards an electronics store on the main street. "Looks like we have customers."
Two hooded guys were breaking into the iron door of "Bernie's Electronics." One of them was carrying a bag that already looked full.
"Low-budget thieves. Classic," Peter commented, getting ready. "Ready for the field test, Spooky?"
"Don't call me that," I rolled my eyes, but a jolt of excitement ran through my body. My first real fight. "And yes, I'm ready."
"Great! Remember: don't be too ghostly. Intangibility is for defense, not for scaring little old ladies. Let's go!"
He leaped into the air, shooting a web and swinging towards the thieves with a characteristic "WOO-HOO!" I took a deep breath—a habit I stubbornly maintained, despite no longer needing to—and launched into the air after him.
Landing was a bit softer this time. I landed behind the two thieves, while Peter struck his iconic pose in front of them.
"Good evening, gentlemen! Looks like the sale is already over!" he said in his casual voice.
The thieves were startled. One of them, the braver one, pulled out a knife.
"Get out of the way, Spider-Man!"
"Ooh, a knife!" Peter mocked. "That's so retro."
While he distracted the two, I tried to be useful. I concentrated and reached out my hand, trying to freeze the lock on the getaway car, like we'd practiced. A ray of icy energy shot from my hand... and hit the windshield of the car next to it, covering it in ice instantly.
"Oops," I said, shrugging.
The thief with the bag ran towards me, trying to push me. Instinctively, my body reacted. I became intangible.
The guy ran straight through me.
He didn't stop running. In fact, he sped up, screaming as he disappeared around the corner, his mind unable to process what had just happened. He passed through me.
"Whoa," I whispered, looking at my translucent hands.
"Focus, Danny!" Peter shouted, while dodging a swipe of the knife and webbing the other thief's arm, sticking him to a pole. "The other one's getting away!"
The second thief, now without his partner, decided the bag wasn't worth it and ran off in the opposite direction. Peter was about to go after him when a garbage truck blocked the street.
"I got it!" I yelled, and launched into the air.
Flying was becoming more natural. I leaned forward, cutting through the night wind. Within seconds, I was hovering in front of the fleeing thief.
"Stop!" I ordered, trying to sound heroic, but my voice echoed in a spooky way.
The thief looked up, his eyes wide with terror at the sight of a boy with white hair and glowing green eyes floating in the air.
"G-Ghost!" he stammered, stumbling backward and falling flat on his back on the curb.
I landed in front of him, trying to look imposing.
"Yeah, something like that. Now, why don't you and I exchange a few..."
Before I could finish, the guy just passed out. He fell flat on the ground, his head lolling to the side on top of the stolen bag.
"...blows," I finished, alone on the quiet street.
A few seconds later, Peter swung over to me, landing softly.
"Whoa. Did you scare him to death?"
"He just... fainted," I explained, a little embarrassed. I had kinda wanted to trade a few punches with a bad guy.
Peter laughed, patting me on the back. His hand went right through me for a second before I concentrated on becoming solid again.
"Whoops! Sorry. But hey, it worked! You caught the bad guy and recovered the goods. Mission accomplished!" He webbed up the unconscious thief and left a note for the police. "Let's get out of here before the reporters show up. Jameson calling me a menace is enough, imagine if he finds out I have a ghost partner."
Minutes later, we were back on the roof near our houses. The adrenaline was fading, and a deep fatigue began to settle in my bones. The simple act of staying solid seemed to require all my energy.
"You did good back there," Peter said, pulling off his mask. "The intangibility thing was smart thinking."
"It was an accident," I admitted, leaning against the chimney and letting out a deep sigh. "And I'm exhausted. Being a ghost is more tiring than I thought."
"Welcome to the club." He looked at me with concern. "You okay to go back to... well, you know."
I knew. Going back home was still weird. My parents treated me with a mix of smothering concern and a watchful eye, as if they expected me to start glowing and floating at any moment. They hadn't mentioned the "ghost incident" again, but the elephant in the room was big, white, and translucent.
"I'll be fine," I lied, transforming back into normal Danny Fenton. The tiredness didn't go away; it just became more familiar, like I'd run a marathon. "See you tomorrow, Peter."
"See ya, Danny. And hey... good work today."
I climbed down from the roof and slipped into my house through my bedroom window as quietly as I could. The house was dark and quiet, my parents had already gone to sleep. It was a relief. Not that I didn't love them, but every suspicious glance from them was agonizing.
The next morning, I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. A ghost truck. Controlling my powers during the fight had completely drained me. My limbs felt heavy, and my head was throbbing. Even holding my fork at breakfast was a challenge.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" my mom asked, her eyes scanning my face as I tried to hide a yawn. "You look... pale."
"Just didn't sleep well, Mom," I replied, avoiding eye contact. "I think I ate something that didn't agree with me."
My dad, Jack, chewed his waffle with vigor.
"You need more energy, son! A Fenton always needs to be ready for a fight! You never know when a ghost might attack!"
I swallowed hard. The irony was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
After breakfast, I was so restless I couldn't stay inside. The residual energy from my powers seemed to tingle under my skin, and the walls felt like they were closing in on me.
"I'm going for a walk," I announced, grabbing my jacket.
I wandered aimlessly through the quiet streets of Queens, breathing in the fresh morning air, trying to calm down. That's when I saw him. Peter, sitting alone on his front steps, looking a little lost in his thoughts. He saw me and waved.
"Hey, neighbor!" he called out. "Escaping the chaos too?"
"Something like that," I replied, sitting down next to him. "Still getting used to... everything."
"I get it. It takes time." He looked up at the clouds. "Sometimes, I just..."
Before he could finish, a voice came from behind us, clear and confident.
"So, you're the new faces in the neighborhood?"
We both turned at the same time.
And there she was.
A redheaded girl, with curly hair that seemed to have a life of its own and a smile that could warm the coldest day in New York. She wore a leather jacket and carried an art backpack, with a sketchbook sticking out the top. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.
Peter, beside me, froze. I could practically hear the gears in his head grinding to a halt. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"I... we... she..." he stammered, blushing intensely.
The girl laughed, an incredibly musical sound.
"I'm Mary Jane. But everyone calls me MJ. We live on the same street, I noticed."
"I'm... Peter," Peter finally managed to say, his voice coming out as a squeak. "Peter Parker. And this is Danny. Danny Fenton." He nudged me with his elbow.
"Hi," I said with a timid wave, still feeling too exhausted to be eloquent.
But then, something strange happened. MJ looked at Peter with a polite smile, but when her eyes turned to me, something shifted. Her gaze deepened, full of an intense curiosity and... interest? She wasn't just seeing me; she seemed to be studying me.
"Fenton," she repeated, as if testing the sound. "I like that. It sounds... funny."
She took a step towards me, completely ignoring Peter, who looked like a fish out of water.
"So, Danny, are you new here too?" she asked, her green eyes fixed on mine.
"More or less," I replied, feeling strangely under a spotlight. "We moved in a few weeks ago."
"Hmm. And you have a... different vibe. I can't explain it." She bit her lip, thoughtful. "It's like you're not entirely... here."
My heart jumped. Did she notice something? How?
Peter, visibly disappointed at not being the center of attention, tried to interject.
"Well, MJ, I do... science. And photography. It's really interesting, actually..."
"That's cool, Peter," MJ replied, without taking her eyes off me. "Danny, wanna take a walk? You barely know the neighborhood. I could show you around."
I was so surprised I could barely process it. The coolest girl I had ever seen was asking me to go for a walk? While Peter, the amazing Spider-Man, was left behind? If she knew about that detail she would regret it.
"Sure," I heard myself say, getting up. "I guess I can do that."
"Perfect!" Her smile widened. "See you around, Peter!"
She started walking, and I found myself following her, throwing an apologetic look over my shoulder at Peter.
His expression was a mix of comedy and tragedy. He looked completely stunned, his shoulders slumped and his jaw slightly agape. He stared at me with a look that said, "Seriously? The GHOST gets the girl?"
I just shrugged, as confused as he was. At least it made more sense than a spider.
As I walked beside MJ, feeling the sun on my face and listening to her talk about her passion for theater and art, a part of me was ecstatic. The other part was completely terrified.
Because, for the first time since I became a half-ghost, someone seemed to see something in me that even I didn't understand. And I had no idea what it meant.
As for Peter... well, I had a feeling our training sessions were about to get a lot more awkward from now on.