Chapter 2
Phantom was visiting Peter in New York. That’s how it started. The Ancients, including Clockwork, were locked in a session to determine the next ghost king. Scarlett was helping Asgard with something or other, and was off planet. So, naturally, Phantom was with Peter. Because where else would he be? Of course, then things started going wrong.
They were out patrolling. Because when they weren’t making videos or doing other dumb things to post on the internet, they were patrolling. They had, at many points, discussed more “normal” friendship things they could do. That had pretty readily established that both of them were far from normal, and the thing they liked most was hanging out together and talking. And, for them, that meant patrolling. They generally had the skies to themselves, and they could always fight bad guys together or take selfies with fans. It wasn’t like work when they were together. Peter got a crash course in fighting ghosts, and Phantom got a crash course in fighting humans and “being a friendly neighborhood superhero”, as Peter put it. It worked. Until something went wrong, of course, as it seemed to do so very often.
Everything was quiet. Too quiet. The air was hanging heavy, and the sun was obscured by clouds. The heat was suffocating. Phantom was glancing around anxiously, which made Peter anxious in turn.
“Phantom? What’s wrong?” Peter asked, his eyes flicking about.
Phantom shook his head, distracted. “I’m not sure. Something. Something’s coming. I can feel it.”
Peter looked around again. It was the middle of the day, and there was an unusual lack of people out, as if Phantom wasn’t the only one who felt like something bad was about to happen. Something in the back of Peter’s mind was on high alert, too, as if his Spidey Sense was just itching to go off. Static seemed to crackle in the air.
Then it happened. Electro, one of Peter’s old time enemies, came swooping down from the sky. Peter had Karen send out an alert to all the nearby Avengers, then got to work. Iron Man had just shown up when it happened. As soon as Phantom saw the lightning bolt, he was out. He froze in midair, and it struck him. He began to fall. Peter felt the blood rushing in his ears, panic threatening to creep in as he started towards his friends, praying he was close enough.
Peter barely caught Phantom with a web, swinging him up and out of the way of yet another bolt of electricity. He didn’t know much about Phantom’s life, but he knew it had started when he had been electrocuted. Phantom had told him so in hushed whispers one night, when they had a campfire. Peter mentally berated himself as he swung Phantom up and grabbed his wrist tightly. Phantom, by nature of being a ghost, barely weighed anything. He was fully unconscious, as far as Peter could tell. Iron Man, The Hulk, and Captain America were doing their best to take out Electro, but Iron Man especially seemed to be struggling. It seemed almost like Electro could manipulate his suit, to an extent. Peter struggled to stay airborne with only one free hand, but managed to land on a nearby rooftop. He swung Phantom’s limp body up and cradled him close, his thoughts running a million miles a minute.
“Mr. Stark, Phantom’s down. Like, unconscious. He, um, he can’t do electricity,” Peter said over the comms, unsure.
“I know, kid. It’s alright. Just get him out of here, back to the tower. Cap, Bruce, and I can take care of this guy,” Tony answered, certainly.
“You sure?” Peter insisted, watching anxiously.
“Positive, just go,” Tony ordered.
“Got it. We’ll be at the tower,” Peter agreed.
Peter surveyed Phantom for a split second, trying to think. Then, he slung his unconscious friend over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Taking a deep breath, Peter changed his web settings and used the webs to stick Phantom firmly against his body. Hoping Phantom wouldn’t phase out in his sleep or something, Peter took off. It was easier than swinging with one hand, but he still felt clunky and awkward. He felt like he was going crazier with worry every second Phantom was unconscious.
“Spidey?” A groggy, strained voice asked.
“Yeah, Phantom, it’s me. It’s okay, I got you. We’re almost to the tower,” Peter answered.
“Hurts,” Phantom whimpered.
“I know. Just stay still. It’ll be okay,” Peter said, trying to be reassuring.
In all honesty, he had no idea if it would be okay. He really, really hoped, but what did he know about ghost biology? Or anatomy? Or whatever? Where was Scarlett when he needed her? Or Clockwork? Anyone? Peter took a deep breath, realizing he was spiralling out of control. He would figure this out. He had to.
Peter was closer to the roof of the tower, so he swung up there. Usually, he went in a window, but he wasn’t about to try that carrying Phantom. Instead, he made it to the roof, and burst through the door and down the stairs without stopping to put Phantom down. He was in a lab now, and after looking around for a moment, he realized it was Tony’s. The first thing he spotted was an empty lab bench.
“Phantom, we’re here. I’m gonna put you down, now, okay?” Peter asked, voice thick with tension.
“Mkay,” Phantom slurred in agreement.
Peter dissolved the webs holding Phantom against him, catching Phantom easily as he started slipping. As carefully as he could, Peter lowered Phantom to the lab bench so he was laying on his back. Phantom whimpered as Peter moved him, and Peter’s heart felt like it was going to break in sympathy. Once he was down, Peter saw that his face was scrunched up in pain, and he was breathing hard. He seemed more awake, though, so that was good.
“Spidey?” Phantom asked, squinting, as if unsure who he was looking at.
“Yeah, Phantom, it’s me. What can I do?” Peter asked, gently.
Phantom blinked, then seemed to realize something. “Everything hurts. I was electrocuted, wasn’t I?” he asked, dazed.
“Yes. What can I do?” Peter asked again, desperate for an answer.
“Ah. Ok, ok. Focus, Danny. Okay, I need you to help me get the top of my suit off. Zipper’s in the front,” Phantom said, his voice thready and strained.
It was then that Peter noticed Phantom was trembling all over, his teeth chattering, as if he were cold. Peter didn’t think that was a good sign. He stepped forward and found the zipper Phantom was talking about, tugging it down, keeping his eyes locked on Phantom’s face. Once it was unzipped down to Phantom waist, Peter wasn’t sure what to do.
“Arms out,” Phantom gasped, holding up his trembling arms.
Peter nodded. Gently, he slid his hand in next to Phantom’s and helped him ease out of the sleeves. Peter noticed, with increasing worry, that Phantom felt warm. Phantom was always, without question, freezing. Him being warm could not be good. Phantom nodded to himself, then looked to Peter, his eyes going in and out of focus. Peter took a deep breath, forcing himself not to panic.
“Need to get wings out. Ectoplasm. Too hot. Gonna go unconscious soon. Call Winter,” Phantom listed, seeming as if he were trying very hard to focus.
“Okay. Wings out. Ectoplasm. Cool you off. Call Winter. Got it,” Peter repeated.
This seemed to satisfy Phantom somewhat, and his eyes blinked precariously, as if they wanted to stay closed. Peter flipped Phantom onto his stomach and patted his cheek gently to rouse him. Phantom blinked a little faster, his eyes struggling to focus on Peter.
“Wings, remember?” Peter insisted. Phantom whimpered.
“It’s gonna hurt. Hand?” he asked, holding out his trembling hand to Peter.
Peter took it and held it tightly, once again noting that it was too warm too
warm too warm. Phantom took a deep breath and clenched his teeth. His wings, which Peter had only seen once before, pushed their way out slowly. Phantom screamed in pain as they did so, his hand squeezing Peter’s very tightly. Peter thought if he were a normal person, Phantom might have broken something. Good thing he wasn’t. Phantom’s eyes were screwed shut, though Peter was pretty sure he wasn’t unconscious. Well, he hoped. He was momentarily distracted by the state of Phantom’s wings. The only other time Peter had seen them, they were ruffled slightly, but looked generally healthy. Now, most of the feathers looked charred, and were turned the wrong way or hanging precariously. Green scars crossed them, glowing too brightly. Peter swallowed once and looked back to Phantom’s face.
“Phantom? You still with me?” he asked.
Phantom let out a pained moan in response.
“You said ectoplasm. I’m guessing you need ectoplasm. Is there some here somewhere?” Peter insisted, both trying to get the information and be distracting.
“Yeah. Tony’s lab, cold place, green vials, glowing,” Phantom supplied, with great effort.
“Okay, okay. Cold, vials, green, glowing,” Peter repeated, looking around.
He found the lab fridge and opened it, and sure enough, there was a rack of vials of green glowing stuff. Peter grabbed three, not sure how many he would need, and headed back to Phantom.
“Phantom, I found the ectoplasm. What do I do with it?”
“I need to..drink some...some of it...and some of it needs...to go on...on my wings...more’s better,” Phantom answered, pausing to gasp for breath as he spoke.
“Okay, okay, I can do that. Open your mouth,” Peter ordered, uncapping one of the vials.
Phantom did as he was told, and Peter awkwardly figured out an angle to pour it down his throat. He did that with as many of the vials as he could, which was just under half, before Phantom fell unconscious again. With a sigh, Peter took his gloves off and started rubbing ectoplasm into Phantom’s abused wings. Even unconscious, Phantom made little pained noises while Peter worked that made Peter’s heart hurt. He thought back through the few instructions Phantom had given him and realized he hadn’t yet done what he had mentally tagged at the time as important. He hadn’t called Winter. Winter Paris was one of the two Paris sisters. They made ghost weapons and researched ghosts for a living, but they were very ethical about it. They were friends with both Phantom and Scarlett, and they had an agreement with the ghosts regarding their ghost weapons. And Winter probably knew way more about whatever was wrong with Phantom then Peter did.
“Karen, can you call Winter Paris?” Peter asked.
“Of course, Peter. Calling now,” Karen, the AI in his suit, answered.
A little phone screen appeared in the upper left corner of his vision, and a dialling tone sounded in his ears. It rang twice before Winter answered.
“Spider-man? What’s wrong? Is it Phantom?” Winter asked, her voice worried. Peter supposed he deserved that. This was the only time he’d ever called Winter, after all. And she was right, it was because Phantom was hurt.
“Yeah, it’s Phantom. One of my old enemies, Electro, showed up. Phantom froze and Electro, well, electrocuted him. I knew that was really bad so I got him back to Stark Tower,” Peter answered.
“What’s his condition?” Winter asked, sounding like she was moving.
“He was unconscious when he first got hit, but he was awake by the time we got back to the tower. He had me help him get his wings out. They’re really messed up. He feels really warm. He was trembling a lot when he was conscious. He seemed like he was having a hard time remembering things, and he was in a lot of pain. He had me help him get his wings out and then dose him to the nines with ectoplasm. Then he passed out again. He said to massage it into his wings, so I’m doing that now,” Peter summarized.
“Okay okay. What you’ve done so far is good. Do you know how to groom his wings?” Winter asked.
“Um, sorta? I’ve done it once before, anyway.”
“Good enough. If you mix the ectoplasm you’re using on his wings with the oily stuff his body produces, it’ll help more.”
“Okay, I’ll start doing that. He’s really warm. He said I needed to cool him off, but I’m not sure how.”
“Yeah, that needs done. He’s an ice ghost, so his temp climbing is really bad. Dammit, why did Scarlett have to be off planet! And Clockwork is stuck in a meeting. Kendra’s out of town. So I guess it’s just you and me. Okay, okay. Think. What would Kendra do? Ice bath! Preferably. But worry about his wings first. When you’re done with that we’ll worry about cooling him down.”
“Okay.”
Peter refocused on the task at hand. After a lot of work, Phantom’s wings were as good as Peter thought he’d get them. The feathers were smoothed down and coated in ectoplasm, but the scars still shined an angry green color.
“Winter? His wings are as good as they’re gonna get, I think. The scars are glowing still, but the feathers are all laying the right way and they’re covered in ectoplasm.”
“Okay, that’s fine. The scars are an extension of his Deathmark. It’s normal for them to be aggravated right now. Okay, ice bath. Do you have a bathtub and a lot of ice there?”
“Um, not in this room, but there are bathtubs a level down and I think there’s an industrial level ice maker on the first floor. I need to get him in an ice bath, right? The colder the better?”
“Right. And do it as quickly as you can, no pressure, but his temp really can’t be that high for very long.”
“No pressure. Got it.”
“Spiderman, breathe, okay? Phantom will be alright. It’s not like he can die twice.”
“That’s not particularly reassuring, but thanks.”
With that, Peter set to work. He was loath to leave Phantom unconscious and alone, but Winter assured him he’d be fine and he wouldn’t wake up anyway. Peter got a lot of weird looks from the people that work at Stark Industries when he came into their cafeteria and took almost all of the ice in their ice maker without saying a word. Luckily, Peter had stayed at the tower overnight a few times, and spent time there often enough to know his way around. He even had a room on the residential floor, with a bathroom in it. With a bath. Which was where he dumped the ice. After the ice was in, there really wasn’t much room for water, but Winter said that was alright. Peter put as much water in as would fit, then headed up to get Phantom. He was relieved to find him still unconscious and where he had left him. As gently as he could, Peter picked up Phantom and rushed to the elevator.
“Make sure you take his suit off all the way before you put him in the tub. And his wings probably won’t fit all the way, which is fine, just get them in there as much as you can,” Winter instructed.
“Okay, okay,” Peter agreed.
He laid Phantom down on the bed in the room and carefully unzipped the suit the rest of the way, fixing his eyes on Phantom’s face. By touch, Peter pulled the suit the rest of the way off and left it on the bed. He lifted Phantom and carried him into the bathroom, settling him in the tub. As Winter had predicted, his wings hung out over either edge, but they were mostly in there. Water sloshed out as Phantom displaced it, but at this point Peter couldn't care less. He just needed Phantom to be okay.
“He isn't waking up, shouldn’t he be waking up?” Peter asked, his voice rising.
“Hey, it’s okay, give it a minute. Just breathe, okay? It’ll work. He’ll wake up. He’ll be fine.”
Peter wasn’t sure if Winter was trying to convince herself or him, but he didn’t think it had convinced either of them. He did, at least, take a deep breath and try and calm down. Panicking wouldn’t help Phantom any.
“Peter, you have an incoming call from Mr. Stark? Should I put Winter on hold and answer it?” Karen asked, and another little window popped up to show an incoming call.
“Winter, hold on, I’m getting a call from Mr. Stark. Be right back.”
“Got it,” Winter answered.
“Switching calls now,” Karen said.
“We took care of Electro. Kid, you okay? Is Phantom okay? Talk to me,” Tony demanded, worry clear in his voice.
“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Phantom is..not great. I dosed him to the nines with ectoplasm, and now he’s in an ice bath. His temp is too high. He’s unconscious. I’m on the phone with Winter Paris, she’s been talking me through it,” Peter answered, trying to keep it simple.
“We’re heading back now, hang in there. What does Winter have to say about it?”
“She’s worried but she says he’ll be fine.”
“Good, hopefully she’s right. I’ll see you both when I get there. Stark out.”
“Winter, hey, you there?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, I’m here. What did Tony say?”
“They dealt with Electro and they’re heading back now.”
“Okay, that’s good. I’ll stay on the phone with you as long as I can, but I’m almost at the airport. I’m getting on a plane. I’ll be there in, like, four hours tops.”
“Okay, okay, good. Good. Good.”
“Just hang in there, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll try.”
“Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll call as soon as I land.”
“Alright. Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
There was a click, then the little window displaying the call disappeared. Peter stared hopefully as Phantom’s face. Maybe he would wake up soon. Peter needed him to wake up soon.
“Spiderman! Kid! Where are you?!” Tony’s frantic voice called.
“In here! Bathroom!” Peter yelled back.
A moment later, Tony was in the doorway. Then, much to Peter’s surprise, he pulled him off the floor and hugged him tightly. Peter clung to him, his stress lessening considerably with the addition of a responsible adult.
“It’ll be okay,” Tony murmured. “It’ll be okay, kid. He’ll be fine.”
“Winter’s on a plane. She’s on her way here,” Peter said, his voice muffled against Tony's chest.
“Good, good. How’s Phantom doing?”
“Still too hot, but better,” a groggy but amused voice sounded from behind Peter.
Peter and Tony let go of each other at the same time to turn and stare at Phantom. He was almost all the way submerged, the way Peter had left him, but his wings were now wrapped around his body under the water.
“You’re awake!” Peter exclaimed, falling to his knees beside the bathtub again.
Phantom chuckled weakly and his hand emerged from his cocoon of water and wings. Peter grabbed it and squeezed gently. It was colder now, much closer to the usual frigid temperature of Phantom’s skin, and Peter was instantly reassured.
“Sure am. I’ll be fine after a while. You did good, Spidey,” Phantom replied, squeezing Peter’s hand in return.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Phantom. Is there anything I can do?” Tony asked, interrupting the moment.
“If you have any more ectoplasm anywhere, that’d be good. It’s hard for me to absorb energy right now, and Scar and Clockwork aren’t here to help. If I could open a portal I would, but I’m still too weak for that. I probably need to stay in here a while, anyway. My core temp is still way higher than it should be,” Phantom answered, frowning.
“I actually do have more ectoplasm. I’ll get it for you. And take your time. I think we’re all just glad you’re okay,” Tony said with a nod. Then, he turned and left.
With an apologetic smile, Phantom pulled his hand away from Peter. Peter nodded in silent understanding and let his hand rest at his side again. He settled more comfortably to sit next to the tub, letting the soft sound of Phantom’s breathing soothe him.
“Hey, Spidey?” Phantom asked after a moment.
“Yeah?” Peter replied.
“Thank you. For saving me.”
Peter rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he’d picked up from Phantom.
“No problem.”
“Still. Thank you.”
“Er, um, sure.”
Phantom laughed weakly, and the awkward tension broke. Peter laughed with him.
“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” Phantom asked, amused.
Peter nodded, then sighed. “Yeah, we kind of are,” he agreed.
They fell silent again. After a moment, Tony walked back in, a glass bottle in his hand. Phantom stared at it for a moment, seeming flabbergasted.
“That’s…” he whispered, trailing off.
Tony nodded. “Yeah, it’s highly energized. Scarlett gave it to me. From her lair. Said I should keep it in a safe place so I’d have it if anything ever happened to you.”
Phantom rolled his eyes, sighing. “Of course she did. I’m betting Clockwork had something to do with that. At any rate, it’a a good thing she did. That’ll help more than anything else.”
Tony stepped forward and placed the bottle in Phantom’s outstretched hand. Phantom slowly twisted the cap off.
“Yeah, Scarlett said that, too. Why is that, exactly?” Tony asked.
Phantom took a swig out of the bottle, his nose scrunching up in something akin to disgust. He closed his eyes and took one more sip out of the bottle before he turned to Tony.
“Two reasons. First of all, it’s highly energized. It’s sort of like...ugh, I can’t think well enough to think of a living person equivalent. Sort of like...like charging a laptop. You can use those phone cords that barely do anything, or you can use the cord that comes with it that charges it really fast. Kind of like that. Second, it’s from Water Rising, Scarlett’s lair. Since Scar and I are brother and sister, and a lair is connected to its owner, I’m indirectly connected to her lair. The ectoplasm knows Scar’s unconscious desires, and one of those is, intrinsically, to protect and help me. So the ectoplasm actually changes to suit my ecto signature. Like..I don’t really know,” Phantom explained, pausing intermittently to take sips of the ectoplasm.
“That’s okay, I get what you mean. Thanks for answering, I know you’re hurt and tired. So, well, thanks,” Tony said, awkwardly.
Phantom chuckled. “Yeah, sure, someone’s gotta teach you these things,” he answered, waving a hand flippantly.
“Does it taste bad?” Peter asked after a moment, watching Phantom grimace again.
“Caught me, Spidey. Yeah, tastes like poison. Like, it would be like if you needed your blood replaced but the only way you could do it was to drink it. It’s gross,” Phantom answered, wrinkling his nose again.
“Ew,” Peter agreed with a chuckle.
“Anything else I can help with, Phantom?” Tony asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“You’ve done more than enough, Tony. You probably have, like, something you need to do or something?” Phantom asked, eyebrows raised.
Tony looked down. “Well, not really at the moment, no. I’m worried. I just want you to be okay.”
Phantom’s face softened, and he sighed. “I’ll be fine, Tony, I swear. If you really want to help, you could stick around. As you know, child ghosts like me absorb all the energy around them, including emotional energy. And honestly, right now, I could use as much of that as I can get. Even with all the ectoplasm I’ve had, it’s still gonna take me a bit to get back to where I usually am. And when Scarlett and Clockwork get back, they are gonna be so pissed off,” Phantom muttered the last part to himself, his eyes momentarily flashing a brighter green.
“I’ll stick around, then,” Tony said, sitting on the floor beside Peter.
“Wait, Phantom, didn’t you say there was some ghost law or something against using the method of someone’s death against them?” Peter asked, face scrunched in concentration.
“Yeah, the Anathemas. I guess we have time. You wanna hear about them?” Phantom asked, taking another gulp of the ectoplasm. The bottle was a little over half empty now, and Phantom already looked way better.
“If you don’t mind telling us, sure,” Peter answered.
“I kind of have fun telling people about the Anathemas, actually. I feel like I’m helping someone on a quest or something. Anyway, there are five Anathemas. Weapons against the mind, weapons against the body, weapons against the soul, malice against the soul, and malice against the Dead. Weapons against the soul and malice against the soul and malice against the dead are really similar, and usually if someone is charged with one they’re charged with both. Those two and maybe weapons against the soul are the ones that would apply to what Electro did to me. Malice against the soul basically means that someone was purposefully malicious against a ghost’s own soul, or self image. They saw that a ghost froze at something, or that they were exceptionally afraid, and took pleasure in using that means to hurt them anyway. Malice against the Dead is similar, but basically with the addition of said means causing flashbacks or relapses to the time of death. Usually, one isn't charged without the other. Also, it’s exceptionally rare for a ghost to break either of these laws. It’s just not done, and when it is, it’s usually at least somewhat accidental. Weapons against the soul are really tied in too, basically just less severe. Weapons against the soul basically means that someone used a weapon, as opposed to a natural ability, to inflict damage against the soul. That law is why Winter and Kendra Paris are so careful about the kind of weapons they make. If they made any weapon that could be used against that law, even if someone else fired it, they could still be tried and convicted for making it in the first place.”
“And those are the only five laws ghosts have, right?” Peter asked.
“Yup. That’s it. But we are very serious about those five laws. So be careful,” Phantom answered with a wink.
Sometime between when he had started talking and finished talking, he had also finished the bottle of ectoplasm. The usual green tint had come back to his face somewhat, and the angry green marks on his wings had faded almost to nothing.
The small group talked and laughed on and off for a few more hours. Winter showed up, anxious, and bearing more ectoplasm. Phantom sighed and wrinkled his nose when she offered it to him, but proceeded to drink it anyway. Winter also came bearing medical grade cooling blankets. Everyone left the bathroom so Phantom could get out of the ice bath. He wore loose black pants, but no shirt as his wings were still out. Winter fussed over him and tucked cooling blankets over and around him. Phantom didn’t argue, which just made it clear how weak he still was. Peter hovered anxiously as Phantom sat on the couch, his wings wrapped around his torso like he had had them in the tub. There was a cooling blanket over his shoulders and one of his lap, and probably another one somewhere Peter hadn't noticed yet. Peter settled on the couch next to Phantom, far enough away that he wouldn’t make him too warm again. Everyone else settled around the room, and after some debate they put on a movie.
It was some hours later, and Phantom and Peter were the only ones who hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Phantom’s wings and skin glowed gently in the dark, muted by the cooling blankets still tucked around him. Peter had slid closer over the course of the movie, and now Phantom’s head was resting on his shoulder. Phantom’s hand had wormed its way out of its cocoon and now he was holding Peter’s hand loosely. Phantom’s hand was reassuringly cool in Peter’s, and he found that he didn’t want to let go.
“Hey Spidey?” Phantom whispered.
“Yeah, Phantom?” Peter whispered back.
“I think I’m gonna fall asleep on you,” Phantom muttered.
Peter let out a soft, startled chuckle. For some reason, the statement made satisfaction and warmth bubble up in his stomach. Blood rushed to his cheeks.
“That’s fine,” he answered.
“Good,” Phantom mumbled.
Then, he was asleep, his breathing slowing to be almost imperceptible. If Peter didn’t know that Phantom doesn’t actually have to breath, he would probably have panicked again. As it was, he just smiled to himself, glad that his friend was okay.