Hi guys! This is my first Danny Phantom FanFic, but not my first FanFic overall. I hope you like it!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Danny Phantom or anything like that. I only own the plot.

Chapter 1 - Prologue

Dusty Ryder was a normal fourteen-year old kid. He had short black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was playful, sarcastic, funny, and clever.

He had two best friends; a fourteen-year old girl and a fourteen-year old boy. They were Lucille Cope, and Marcus Bradshaw.

Lucille had long blond hair and shiny teal eyes. She was innocent, pretty, caring, and dull.

Marcus had short red hair and dim hazel eyes. He was frantic, dramatic, humble, and intelligent.

They weren't the most popular or the biggest losers. They were in the middle of the social chain. They went to Willow High School in 1970 as freshmen.

Dusty and Lucille had started dating during the seventh grade and had been going strong since. Everyone predicted that they would get married in the end. The couple even started to believe it themselves.

Marcus started tentatively dating Jessica Nelson and was very happy. All was right in their world.

Little did they know, their world was about to change forever.

April 27th, 1970, 10:32 a.m.

A scheduled tornado drill started, with the principal announcing it over the intercom. All the students in the school were shoved into the underground library, as it doubled as the tornado shelter.

The teachers were checking the classrooms to make sure that everyone was in the shelter, but they missed one child. A young girl, who was hiding in the dark of her third hour classroom, clutching a lighter.

Once every classroom was checked, the girl came out. She slid against the wall, shielding herself from the eyes of the teachers.

The principal came into the shelter to tell all the kids that they could go back, but the door slammed behind the middle-aged man. He turned around to open them, but found them to be locked.

In the thin window on the left door, shone the face of the girl. She had dark, angular eyes and a wicked grin. The girl pointed down at the floor.

The principal looked down to see a piece of thick string, soaked in something, and attached to a bookshelf. He looked back to the girl, to see her holding the end of the string.

She sparked the lighter, and set the string ablaze. The fire spread to the shelf, covering it in the red heat.

"Run!" The principal yelled, looking around desperately for an exit. The metal doors seemed to be the only way out, but they would not be affected in the inferno.

There was no other exit.

April 27th, 1970, 10:43 a.m.

Dusty coughed and squinted into the smoke. He'd been with Lucille and Marcus, but they were gone. He stumbled through the fog, grasping for anything. His hands hit an unburned bookshelf.

He almost cheered in relief, but remembered to save his breath. Groping along theedge, he found his way through the dense fog.

As he walked he started to shuffle his feet in order to find stuff on the ground. His stiff foot hit a fleshly object, making Dusty look down to see what it was.

He saw a body lying on the ground; a girl wearing a burned dress of pink floral with blond hair tangled and covering her face. Dusty felt the breath be forced out of his lungs. He opened his eyes even wider, not wanting to believe what he was seeing.

His blue eyes burned as he kneeled down, digging his hands underneath the girl. He flipped her over and tore the hair away from her face. Dusty found himself staring at the comatose face of Lucille.

"No," He whispered. "Lucille. Can you hear me?"

His girlfriend didn't respond.

"Please. Wake up Lucy," He begged, his stinging eyes leaking hot tears.

"Please! Lucy please!" He was yelling now. Lucille didn't respond, her deep teal eyes never to see the light of day again. Dusty lifted her body to his chest, pressing his ear against her chest.

He heard nothing.

Lowering the body of his girlfriend, he started to back away, not wanting to see her body anymore. He bumped into something else, and his heart stopped.

Turning around, he spotted another body; this one of a boy. The boy had red hair that could rival the inferno that had killed him.

"Not you too!" Dusty exclaimed, rushing over to the body of Marcus. Just like Lucille, the young high-schooler was not breathing, with no heartbeat sounding in his chest.

Dusty couldn't take it anymore.

His girlfriend was dead.

His best friend was dead.

He would be dead in a matter of minutes.

Not being able to deal with the intense grief, he stood up and ran. Ran into the smoke, into the blaze. The flames licked at his body, burning his already tan skin.

Dusty screamed agonizingly. The fire punched his skin until the membrane was red and bitten. His lungs filled with lethal smoke, the fog maiming his cells, killing him.

Dusty took one last look at his fallen friends, sucking in a breath. He stumbled back over to Lucille, gazing at her fallen body and exhaling his last breath.

With that, his body fell onto the ground, identical to every other person in the room.

The last bit of his strength, before he was fully gone, was used to grasp Lucille's hand with an iron grip. They would stay together, no matter what.

Trapped against their will, every single living thing was killed in a place that was supposed to protect them from disaster.

The sick irony.

April 27th, 1970, 10:58 a.m.

Willow High School was swarmed by fireman. The fire had completely obliterated the library, and, sadly, every human being in it was killed.

Two-hundred thirty-five students attended the school, and twenty-seven adults worked there.

Two-hundred twenty-eight students and twenty-three adults died.

The girl had fled the scene before any could catch her.

However, the police identified her as the culprit due to her committing suicide a few days later. She left a note saying that she did it, which allowed the cops to release anyone held on suspicion.

It was a complete shock when it happened. They weren't expecting her to have committed the nefarious crime.

No one was prepared for it.

April 27th, 1970, 11:07 a.m.

Patty Ryder rushed out of her car, basically sprinting to the school. Michael Ryder, her husband, was close on her tail, holding their baby girl, Harriet Ryder. The three ran as fast as they could to the burned building, desperate and full of dread.

They came to a stop, watching as bodies were brought out by fireman, each one burned and battered. Patty's eyes raked the already-brought out corpses, searching for black hair and a red shirt.

Michael saw a fireman come up with two bodies in his arms. One a boy, one a girl. The girl had scorched blonde hair, and the boy had raven black hair.

He gasped and pushed past the firemen. Running toward the approaching fighter, he looked at the faces of the kids and saw what he wished he'd never have to see.

The girl had a fair face, with a small nose and thin lips turned down in a permanent frown. The boy had a horribly burned face, the skin red and bitten, but there was no denying the face of Michael and Patty's son.

It was Dusty Ryder and Lucille Cope. Michael felt his throat tighten and the tears fall on his face.

Trailing his eyes down their mangled bodies, he saw that they were holding hands. The sight of his late son holding hands with the girl he loved broke him down. He sobbed, pressing Harriet to his chest.

The little two-year old had no idea what was happening, but she saw her bubba lying in the man's arms. She reached out her own stubby arms, waving them to signal that she wanted her brother.

Her daddy just cried harder and pushed his little daughter's hands down. Harriet yelled her disapproval, still wanted for her bubba to hold her.

She loved it when he bounced her on his knee and when he smiled at her. It made her grin and laugh when he did those things.

But of course, the little two-year old didn't understand that her bubba was never going to be there for her. Her first day of school, her first date, her marriage, the birth of her babies; he was never going to be there anymore.

Patty heard a shout from a baby; a young girl. She whipped her head around to see her husband and their baby daughter kneeling next to two bodies, crying intensely. She rushed over, to recognize her son as one of those bodies.

"No!" She cried, falling onto the ground. Her tears splashed on her dead son's body as she screamed to the sky. They weren't the only family torn and destroyed.

April 27th, 1970.

The day that Dusty, Lucille, Marcus, and two-hundred forty-eight other people were murdered.

Dusty sighed and straightened his red shirt for the billionth time. He was going on a "date" with Lucille, but they were always the same.

They would meet up, compliment each other, go to Ghost Hill, watch the sunset, and come back. Every night they did this. For thirty years. Dusty loved Lucille, but it was agonizing being ghosts.

They could never get married, never have kids (A/N I know that ghosts can have kids, but he doesn't know that), never grow old together, and never die, knowing that they've lived a full, satisfying life.

He blew a piece of raven hair out of his eyes and walked to meet Lucille. He caught sight of her and mentally groaned. She was wearing the same dress she wore when she died.

The dress was sleeveless and white with a pink floral pattern overlaying it. It fell to her knees, showing off her pale blue legs and tiny feet, which were accented in white sandals.

Her blond hair fell across her shoulders in a straight waterfall and her teal eyes sparkled in the green gleam of the Ghost Zone.

Lucille was a pretty ghost, but she never changed. Always the same hair, same dress, same smile. It was like Lucille was losing everything that made her Lucille.

Dusty couldn't blame her though. He felt like he was going insane, being trapped in the Ghost Zone. The days were exactly the same, with no room for change.

Wake up, hang out with Marcus, explore, talk with Lucille, tick off some ghosts, open random doors, explore some more, go on date with Lucille, sleep and repeat. It was like he was on some sick replay.

Sleep seemed to be his only relief, but the only thing he dreamed about was the inferno that had put him there. Anyway, Dusty walked up to her and forced his lips to curl up in a smile.

"Hey Lucy." He called, waving slightly at her. She turned to him, her thin lips turning up in a bright smile.

"Hey Dust!" She said, her voice luscious.

"Thirty years of me telling you not to call me that and you still can't stop yourself?" Dusty complained, glaring at her.

His patience just wasn't there anymore. He was very snippy and rude to both Marcus and Lucille, but he didn't want to be. He loved Lucille with all his heart, but he couldn't take it anymore.

He'd have to isolate himself; not having dates every single night. If he didn't, he would go crazy and lose Lucille completely.

"Sorry," Lucille said, her previous smile gone.

"Let's go." Dusty sighed in relief and took her thin hand in his own.

They walked in awkward silence to the Ghost Hill, each not making any sort of eye contact with the other. They got there in record time, sitting down next to each other, but still not talking or anything romantic.

The grotesque sun slid behind the dark mountain, making for the worst sunset in the history of sunsets.

"I know you don't like me anymore." Lucille whispered, gazing at the green sky.

"What?" Dusty asked, turning to her.

"I know you don't like me anymore." She repeated, looking back at him.

"No," He protested, waving his hands.

"I love you Lucille. I want to spend the rest of my afterlife with you. You are the most beautiful, amazing ghost in the entire Zone." Lucille turned to him with a bright smile.

"Really?"

"Yes. I love you Lucy." Dusty confirmed, taking her hands in his.

"I love you too." Lucille said, her eyes shinning with tears. The two hugged and sat back, watching the black sky.

Dusty turned to Lucille, and she turned to him. The two started to lean in, before a bright flash of white broke them up. Dusty squeezed his eyes shut and threw his hands in front of his face.

A second later, the light was gone, and Dusty opened his eyes. He saw that he was in a huge room decorated with black and green.

"Hello?" He called out, wanting someone to answer him. In another flash of light, a giant black ghost appeared. The ghost had a black "body" with flaming green hair. He had a dark frown that was sinister to look at.

"Dusty George Ryder." The ghost spoke with a booming voice laced with boredom.

"Yes?" Dusty responded.

"You have been selected."

"For what?"

"Every thousand years, a ghost is chosen to have a second chance at life. The rules are different for each ghost. You will be reborn to a normal family and have fourteen years of normalcy. Once the time is up, you will gain unworldly powers. You must use these powers for the good of others, not for the good of yourself. If you prove yourself a true hero, you will become full human and will be allowed to make up for the life you lost. Is that clear?" The ghost bellowed.

"Crystal." Dusty said.

"Good. Now, you will be reborn to Maddie and Jack Fenton. They are ghost hunters. You have an older sister named Jasmine who is extremely smart. Understood?"

"Yes." Dusty whispered.

"Excellent," He said while raising his hands. "I give you life!"

Dusty felt pain consume his entire body but an odd, tingly feeling settling in afterwards. He was getting another chance at life.

A second chance to live the life he always wanted. With a pang, he realized it wouldn't be with Lucille and Marcus by his side.

"I will never forget you guys." He whispered before losing consciousness, and being reborn as Daniel Fenton.

How was it? Tell me through reviews, favs, or follows. I love them all! Till next time!

BookLover86, Out! ;)