This… this came to me very suddenly. If anyone has done something like this before, then, my apologies. But I want to do this really bad. It's my first time using first person, as well, so I hope it's done well. Sorry that this took away, again, from Never Good Enough. I have the whole chapter written out, I'm just never able to type it!
Slight shippage included, for both Gray Ghost and Amethyst Ocean. If you don't know the lingo yet then my subjects aren't doing a good enough job of spreading it. Go to my profile for a full list of all unofficial ship names from TGS.
"It seems kind of stupid now, doesn't it? It made so much sense then…"
It was a warm summer day. The sun was high in the sky, the grass was green, and flowers were sprouting in various places in the field. The sunlight beat down on our backs like a comforting hug, and there were no clouds in the sky. A succession of robins flew over our heads, chirping melodiously. The air itself even felt lighter as I inhaled deeply once more to resist my urges.
Usually I wouldn't be spending such a vibrant day like this. I should be taking this rare opportunity to take a well-deserved break. Be the child that I had so long ago stopped being. A day like today wasn't supposed to pass by without being missed, without being taken advantage of.
The weather was a lie.
This was no happy day.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach and closed my eyes tightly. It should be gray. It should be cold. It should be raining lightly, forming puddles at my feet. The sun should not feel so welcoming. Time should not even be continuing after what had happened.
All of it was at my hands.
To my left, she sat kneeling, the tears flowing freely. She didn't care anymore. I admired her for that. I couldn't bring myself to breakdown so easily in front of these two. To my right, he stood with his hands in his pockets, staring just as I was, as motionless as a statue.
I had done this. I had caused this pain that left us without any words left to say to each other.
She had been in her position of the ground for sometime now, her eyes closed, sobbing. She didn't want to look at it, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. The family had left a little while ago, unable to bear being here any longer. Only the three of us felt a need to stay. Only we felt as much pain as this, but felt an obligation to remain.
I closed my eyes and inhaled again. I shouldn't be here, really. I had no right. I had absolutely no reason to be standing here among these people, these people who I had hardly known all these years and yet so dramatically influenced.
I opened my eyes and stared into it once more, hoping to bore past it, deep into the ground and see for myself once more what it concealed. I hoped in vain.
It was how it had always been. Every time the same thing would occur, habitually, but I would always strive for something more out of it.
I aimed. I fired. I would usually make contact, but never forcefully enough it seemed.
This time, I did. This time, he fell. He kept falling. He didn't scream, or even try to fire back at me. He simply slipped out of the sky like he'd tripped over something, until he landed with a heavy force on the ground.
At last. After years of waiting, I had done it. It could finally be over.
The ghost boy had been defeated.
I suppose that, in retrospect, the thoughts that surfaced in my mind after the initial reaction of ecstasy should have been considered more important. For instance, if this was a ghost boy, how did I expect to kill him? Destroy him? Injure him, even! I had done it before, but it never made a lot of sense.
It didn't matter quite as much to me then, though. These thoughts were quickly encased with the swarm of much more enjoyable emotions that flooded my being as I stared at the unmoving spectral form.
"Sam," he said hoarsely from next to me. It surprised me that he spoke, but it was expected.
"No," said the girl, crumpled on the ground without dignity. Her voice was cold, angry, and defiant, clashing against the environment like ink on good linen. Not so different from everything else about the day.
"Sam, please," he begged. "It's been a long time. We can't stay… we have to leave."
"No," she repeated, much firmer through her clenched teeth. The sound was enough to attract my attention from its current spot to the back of her bowed head. Her fingers dug into the ground, gripping the grass tightly, as though she was trying to permanently connect herself to it. "I'm not moving from this spot. I can't."
He sighed solemnly -- understandable, of course, for his situation -- and for what seemed like the first time in an eternity, he ceased to be a statue. He crossed in front of me, as though I wasn't existent, and kneeled next to her, wrapping a comforting arm around her. She buried her head into his shoulder, accepting the friendly gesture and embracing it fully, and whispered in his ear, though the crying kept it from being quiet. "I can't leave. I can't abandon him like that, you know. I never have before."
From my constant place in the sky, I stared down, a sick smile spreading across my face. He had tormented my mind, plagued it endlessly, every night for ages. He would no longer do so. My addiction to him, my everlasting need to expel him from my system, had paid off. From my distance, I saw the green ectoplasm that made up his form stain his black suit. A mockery of human blood.
His eyes shot open, staring straight up into the sky in disbelief. With one moan of pain, they closed once more.
I hoped he was surprised.
"No!"
I twisted around at the sound of a rather familiar voice echoing from beneath my board. Looking down, I saw two equally recognizable figures appearing from the shadows of a building and sprinting toward my fallen enemy. How had the managed to hide from me this long?
More importantly, what the heck were they doing here? Now?
They eventually covered the distance between themselves and the ghost; I still couldn't tell if he was unconscious or whatever a dad ghost could be called. She fell to the ground beside him and scooped her hands into hers, holding them tightly within her grasp.
Needless to say, I was confused beyond all reason as to why two kids from my school were standing over him.
I followed them and lowered myself till I was standing behind them.
He was the first to take notice of me. After taking me in, he bellowed, "You don't have any clue what you've just done, do you?"
I don't take well to being yelled at by people. "As a matter of fact, yes!" I retorted while turning off the dark tint of my faceplate so me could drink in my defiant certainty. "I've been trying to do it for a long time. What makes you think I wouldn't?"
Judging from their reactions and the way Tucker stared at me helplessly, I wasn't so convinced that I did anymore.
"You're not," he whispered back. "No way would he even think that you were; he wouldn't want you to just sit her." His efforts to convince her to move from her rooted spot were beginning to take their toll on his emotions. I could see it in his face, and hear it in his wavering voice. I didn't believe that he would last much longer under these conditions. If he gave in, though, there was nothing that could stop me from breaking as well.
"No," she repeated. She said it over and over again, memorizing the monosyllable perfectly it seemed. "I can't… for me. I don't want to leave."
I shut my eyes again, and in doing so I shut myself off from there. I felt like such an intruder. These people were not, nor could they ever be, my friends. I may have once believed so, but there was no possible way we ever had been. Not when they knew what I was. Especially not when they knew what I wanted to do.
And now, what I had done. Was it possible to loathe yourself anymore than I did now?
I breathed deeply again, reminding myself that I was here. I was alive; I was existent. Not that it mattered much, but it grounded me to real life. There was something that I had to do before I could leave. I turned my head away from the two broken hearts crouched down a few feet before me and spoke to them for the first time since the event. "You have to tell them the truth."
They didn't look at me or say anything, but his sudden stillness and her quieted breath let me know they'd heard.
"You have to tell them what happened. Turn me in."
A tall man with a five o'clock shadow stood up from behind the desk and sighed solemnly. "Are you certain that this is what happened?"
Tucker bowed his head and cleared his throat. "Yes, sir," he said monotonously. "The ghost came out of no where. I don't really know why it happened, but it started chasing us." He wrung his hands together in his lap. "He screamed, and we turned around and saw the ghost fly away. Next thing we knew, it was gone, and he… he was…"
She was sitting on the other side of him. She buried her head in her arms, closing out the world. I could only stare at the two, completely shocked by their lack of action. Neither of them would tell the investigator anything, and whenever I tried to get them to, or tried to do so myself, they would stop me.
So I didn't say anything. I felt vile and selfish for it, but it seemed wrong to go against their standard, even if it made no sense to me.
The officer walked toward the door and opened it, and we all filed out of the small room. He led us down a hallway in the police department where our families were waiting. All of our families.
I kept my eyes aimed at the wooden floorboard. I couldn't meet the eyes of his parents, shining with fresh tears, anymore than I could face my own father. All the same, he pulled me into his arms immediately, and despite myself I clung to him like the helpless child I never let myself be. That's what I felt like: a defenseless little girl who had gotten way over her head, an innocent who'd committed a dark sin.
"Never again, Dad," I managed to mumble in his ear. "I'm not doing it ever again. I'm done."
I never did look at his parents, other than their backs as they left for home. His sister turned back to kiss Sam on the cheek before leaving. I met her eyes briefly. Something in her passing glance caught my attention.
Did she know what I was? Did she know what he was?
She turned back. I never found out.
Slowly, he turned his head around and met my eyes from his spot on the ground. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing behind his glasses.
"Turn me in," I repeated, slowly and steadily for fear of screaming if I relented control. "Tell somebody what really happened to him. I deserve the worst that I can get."
He shook his head violently. "We're not telling anyone anything," he said, as if that would resolve the matter for good. I did not get him.
"If you don't," I said, crossing my arms and staring back at the spot, "I will. It's the only way I'll ever live with myself. The only way I'll ever be able to face the mirror."
Every time I'd seen my reflection since that day, I either went into rage or depression. It was driving me nuts.
I expected him to argue, or at the very least, no response at all. What I received was actually very, very different.
Faster than I could form a coherent thought she had whipped around and was standing in front of me. Ironically enough, she was covered in white from head to toe. I guess even now she felt a need to stand out.
"You're going to have to figure out how, then," she said darkly, "because no one is going to know what happened."
"Why not?" I questioned in exasperation.
"No one can know!" she answered loudly.
From behind her back, he stood up, shaking his head. "Please, you two, don't act like –"
"Stay out of it," she snapped.
I took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed. "But just letting me get away with what I did isn't right! You can't just act like this after what I did!"
"Look," he said, walking over, "we have our reasons."
"No!"
I couldn't take it anymore. There was no way I could keep myself level under these circumstances. My fingers started twitching violently by force of habit. I usually used them when I was this upset.
Everything I had done, everything I had lived for over the past few years that I felt so justified in doing all seemed black and tainted. It had always given me purpose, a reason to go on, even when my life was terrible. Everything I'd been feeding off of seemed dead to me.
He was the only reason I kept doing it. Both of them were.
"We'll get you somewhere. They can help you. You're going to be alright."
"I'm such an idiot," I said to myself, covering my face with my hands. "So stupid. I don't deserve protection."
"Good," she said behind me, her voice dripping in sarcasm. "Because you don't have it."
I nodded in agreement. Her words didn't sting. It was a fact, and facts had never stung me before. At least, most of them hadn't. "Then why not turn me in?" I asked. "It's not like it'd make anyone mad. Telling the secret doesn't matter now, does it?"
Finally he spoke up, and neither of us cut him off. "Because," he explained, stepping to her side, "we already told his parents a different story. We can't just change it now. Also," he added, turning his head from me, "he didn't want anyone to know."
"About his powers?" I asked. That… that was just stupid! Not telling anyone about it had already done the worst damage possible!
"No," she replied tightly, glaring at me with the deepest intensity. "About you."
I gasped quietly. That threw me off track for a moment. "You mean… what I did?" That was insane. Impossible. He couldn't have said ahead of time for them to keep quiet, could he? He couldn't have expected…
Oh, God. That was the whole point. That was why Sam was looking at me like this. Her stony eyes held more than just hatred for my deed. They were telling. He had expected it. He had told them to expect it.
He'd been right.
"Yes," she spat. "About what you did. He didn't want you to get in trouble for it. He said that it wasn't your fault, that you didn't mean to hurt anybody. Anyway, Jazz already told his parents about his secret." She turned around and crossed her arms defiantly, closing me out again.
"Stay with me! Come on, you can do it. Please…""I didn't!" I exploded. I couldn't keep it in anymore. "I didn't mean it! I didn't know! I was trying to protect him from the ghosts! If I had known I never would have…"
I wasn't able to finish my sentence. Both my voice and my balance and my sense of reality abandoned me once more. Would I be able to finish what I said without being dishonest?
The next thing I knew the lush green grass was under my legs and my eyes were closed tightly. "I was trying to protect him! I thought I was right! I was wrong; I was so horribly, intensely, utterly wrong. Why would he want me to go on without being punished? It doesn't make sense!" Vengeance had been written into my programming the moment I'd laid eyes on the ghost, and it was what had fueled me for so long. Why would these two want to enact retribution on my head?
This time she wasn't my answer. After a moment of silence, he surprised me again.
"Didn't he tell you?"
I hadn't even realized I'd been crying, but this memory stemmed the flow. Slowly I opened my eyes and raised my head. He did tell me. I hadn't understood then, and I still didn't really. Maybe it would come to me later, as most life lessons seem to do. For now, I suppose it was all I had to take. He didn't want me punished. I wasn't going to go against that.
There was nothing left for me to say to them. I was done here. I stood up, whispered a good-bye under my breath, and left. The sun shone brightly in my face and the cool breeze blew my black skirt tighter around my legs.
As I left the field, I left the two of them. For good.
Tucker rolled his eyes in frustration and turned back to the broken body of the ghost. "He can't be gone," he said forebodingly. "He has to still be here. He's awake, he hasn't changed back yet."
Sam gasped in realization and shook the boy's head in her lap softly. "Wake up. Please, wake up!"
"What are you two even doing here?" I asked, anger rising. I didn't appreciate being left out the loop tha had been formed before my eyes. "What do you mean 'changed back'?"
"Tucker, give me your shirt," she said, extending her hand and completely ignoring me. "I need to stop the blood flow."
"No!" I yelled. I wrenched Tuckers arm from his shirt in fury. What did they think they were doing? They were ruining everything about this moment! "Are you two off your rockers? He's a ghost! He doesn't –"
"A ghost, huh?"
My voice caught in my throat. No. He wasn't still here. I'd shot him out of the freaking sky! But I recognized that hollow, echoing voice anywhere.
I turned around toward my long time enemy. He was looking right at me with half-open eyes.
"Sam," he said quietly before closing his eyes once more.
"Stay with me!" Sam cried, encouraged by this brief moment of consciousness. "Come on, you can do it. Please, Danny, stay with us!"
I opened my mouth to argue yet again before the full content of what she said hit me.
My heart stopped. I swear to God it skipped a beat. I hadn't heard her right. I couldn't have. She meant Danny Phantom, she meant him, because it was impossible for him to be…
"That… that can't be…"
As if to answer my question, a bright light flashed around the ghost's middle and slowly worked it's way around the rest of his body, as if it didn't want to do that much work. The green ectoplasm that stained the black suit transformed into very red, very human blood that covered his favorite white shirt. The face of my deepest hatred became the one of my deepest affection: the face I had meant to ensure safety for by leaving alone and destroying this ghost.
In some crazy, unbelievable way, they were one in the same.
"I will. It's the only way I'll ever be able to live with myself. The only way I'll ever be able to face the mirror."
"Oh God!" I screamed, completely horrified. My whole life suddenly split in two between the faces and crumble to the ground. I screamed again. I screamed until Tuckers hand covered my mouth and he shushed my loudly in my ear. I grabbed his arm and tightened my grip, completely freaking out. My eyes never left the body that was, miraculously, still breathing.
Tucker had to give Sam his shirt now.
Danny moaned and turned his head. "Valerie, stop. My head hurts."
Sam kicked off her large boots and pulled her stockings off of her legs. She tried suing them as a bandage, but the blood only seeped in between her fingers. It was an act of desperation that wouldn't work; I knew what my weapons could do to humans. "It's okay, Danny," she whispered soothingly, running her dry fingers through his hair. "We'll get you somewhere. They'll help you. You're going to be alright."
Danny smiled and laughed weakly. "Sam, quit. I know."
I fell to me knees at his side, crouched down across from Sam. I turned off my battle suit and was now in my casual clothing. "Danny." I said passionately, my voice cracking. "I didn't know…. I d-don't understand." I pushed away the urge to start sobbing. A trembling hand reached out for his chest and pulled away at the touch of wet blood. "How can you be him?"
"Long story," he grunted, almost sarcastically. "Tucker, how come I'm not dead yet?"
The question surprised all of us, but most of all, Tucker. "Maybe… maybe because of the ghost. You were hit in that form, so…" He wasn't able to explain it further.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I pleaded as Sam kept trying to close the wound. Tucker pulled out a cell phone and began dialing 911. "If you had just told me, I never would have –"
"Really?" he asked, smirking. "You would've stopped? You wouldn't have done this anyway, even knowing who I was?"
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say to that.
"It seems kind of stupid now, doesn't it?" he thought aloud, looking at the building behind me as if it were to answer. "It made so much sense then. Too late now, huh?"
I hung my head and gripped my hair tightly. "I'm sorry," I said faintly. "I was supposed to be your friend…"
"You still are," he replied.
It fit together now. Never shooting at me directly, always hurting other ghosts more than he tried to hurt me. Flying away before he ever had to fight back. Everything he said to me that I never wanted to listen to, thinking he was just trying to fool me. Because I was his friend. No way could I still be.
He turned his head back to Sam, who was biting her lip and staring at him wide-eyed. She was longing for him to stay. I could see all the reasons written on her face for why she needed him here. I had taken that from her.
"Remember," he said sternly. "Promise." She took his hand in his and nodded, closing her eyes sadly. Tucker nodded as well. I had no idea what they were promising. Later, I did. They were agreeing to keep it secret.
Danny closed his eyes and smiled again. "If I'm lucky, I'll see you guys again anyway."
"No!" Sam cried out and took his head in hers again. "Danny, don't leave us. Don't leave me! I need to tell you…"
Danny died before he could say another word.
A few years later I visited the gravesite again. It was a random day, Wednesday, so I didn't expect anyone to just show up and disturb me. I wanted my privacy, my chance to give closure to this whole thing. Someone – most likely Sam or his family – had kept the area up when the rest of Amity Park was in disarray. Without Danny Phantom, security wasn't in its best shape. I never realized how much he really did help us out, I guess. I'd been blinded.
I hadn't put on my battle suit since it happened. I hadn't talked to Mr. Masters either, or even looked at it. I had of course considered donning it again. This time would not for asinine justice, but defense. It had been years, and the area had held up well, but I might be able to continue what Danny had started.
Something would always hold me back. I associated that suit with my broken heart now. To wear it again and see my reflection was like looking in the face of a murderer.
I kneeled on the ground and traced my fingers around the engravings on the marble tombstone. The Fentons spared no expense for his resting place. The words on the stone had been changed since I last saw them. It seemed like more than just the Fentons knew what Danny had done. I hadn't been shipped to prison yet, so that secret was still kept.
"A strong will, a strong heart. Always remembered… for selfless deeds to the people." I smiled at the addition. "What do you think?" I asked the smooth surface. "You think I should? You're probably mad that no one's been keeping up your job, huh?"
I didn't expect an answer, so I wasn't disappointed when I didn't receive one.
"I bet Sam and Tucker have been here a lot. She was really upset. Sorry about how we acted last time I was here. I can't say how she's doing; I haven't seen anyone from back then. I moved away, see? I stopped everything." I took a shaky breath and continued. "But I came back. I had to ask you is you want me to keep going. To fight the ghosts."
I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his first name, my fingers tracing around the word 'strong'. He probably liked it better when Sam kissed him, though. I got what I needed out of it, though.
I leaned back and nodded. "Okay. I'll try."
With that, I walked away again. I exited the gate and walked down the street, my hands buried in my coat. A few blocks down, I briefly made eye contact with a woman about my age. She had long black hair and familiar eyes that widened when she saw me.
I pushed past her and ignored the call of my name, turning the corner and disappearing from her sight.
Okay, Danny. Let this be a small payment for what I owe you. Just a small one.
My first serious angst-ridden one-shot. I love doing these. I should move some of my old Hey Arnold! ones here. Anyway, this is dedicated to TayloWolf, who got a sneakpeak and automatically wanted more. I sent her the first half when it was written. Hope you liked the rest, too!
See you in the afterlife,
Saramis Andrea Kismet