Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

Leavetaking

The wind tore at his sight, speeding faster and faster as he fled. If his vision wasn't swimming, he would've been certain that he was past the stage of his eyes tearing. The liquid seeping out from the corners of his gaze seemed somehow denser, more viscous, and possibly more vital; not that it mattered.

He didn't know why he was doing this. It was only a matter of time, really. Until the enemy found him again. Until those he loved were once again forced to suffer the brunt of his failed attempts at heroics.

He was no longer capable of feeling anything; the paranoia, the endless deception had taken its toll. Danny Fenton was accustomed to failure, but not when his ineptitude resulted in him doubting the very purpose of his existence.

He couldn't do this anymore. Not when he had nothing left to give her. Everything she ever had, or ever dreamed of achieving, he had destroyed with a single fell swoop of his inadequacies. He could never hope to attempt to salve the gaping wounds he had left in the souls of those that he cared about.

But he had faith that with time, Samantha Manson would easily be able to pick herself back up, and that her extraordinary strength would cushion the fall of those around her as she rose.

It was all he had to offer. Time, and perhaps the hope that when he left the rubble of the city crumbling in his wake, they would rally their forces sufficiently to prevent him painting the ground red with their blood.