Fourteen

A Danny Phantom Fanfic

YAJJ

A/N: Okay, you guys had better enjoy this. I started this at 5:46 p.m., 7/1/2013. I just used about 7 hours to write it, and I spent half of that time crying, not even joking. I've never cried as I wrote my fanfics. Ever. So I hope this is really good. Also, mind it's in 2nd person (I hope ff won't get me for that...) and unbetaed. Pfft, who needs betas?

Also, because this is pissing me off: If you want to review my story, can you at least give me a solid sentence? Too many people say "nice story" or "interesting". Yeah, I could tell from the 'favorite'. Thanks!

If anyone wants to see the pic this was inspired by, this is the web address: askteamphantom dot tumblr dot com/ post/ 18714418675
As usual, just take out the spaces, change .

As usual, I don't own Danny Phantom. I don't even own this plot bunny. FOR SHAME

Edit: I just changed a few little things that were bothering me (for instance, incorrect years, how did I not notice that?) and swapped a she to a he to fit with little one-shots based off of this that will probably not be posted.

ALSO all youz guyz should check out Gammija's Leaving if you liked this one. It's based off of this, but it's really good. Check it out!

It's like watching your life go down the proverbial drain.

It's like realizing that you can never have a life of your own. Not really.

It's like knowing that you and your friends are going on two different paths. Your friends are on one you have no chance to follow.

One path is life, the other is death. Though you are half-dead, it is not you who wanders down the path towards death. You can't get off of the path toward life. You are only one of three who are on this path. One is someone that you hate. You despise everything about him because he had what you wanted: he was noticed, he wasn't totally hated, and he was a stronger halfa than you would ever be. The other can easily disintegrate into nothingness if she got bored with the path toward life. She just has to find a way to destabilize her ectoplasm again.

You should be 34. But you are not. You sit down with your friends who are 34 as you all celebrate your 20th 14th birthday party. Your sister is there with you. She was only 2 years older than you. Now she's 22 years older than you. Your parents were only 30 years older than you. At 65 and 66 years of age, they are now 50 years older than you.

You are still 14. For the 15th year in a row, you blow out your candles on a secret wish to age again. Not even dear Desiree can grant your wish; though she has tried many times. You wonder if this year, she will get it right.

14 is your least favorite thing to be. You watch your town grow up around you. As friends, enemies, neighbors, and nameless faces change and shift, you stand as the immortal, ever the same Danny Phantom, hero of Amity Park. You always will.

You are your friends' favorite babysitter. You have been named godfather for both Tucker and Valerie's kids and for the love of your life, Sam, and Dash's kids. They are only being kind. They are trying to include you in their lives, though it is nearly impossible.

You are still 14, after all. You are too young to get a job but too old to sit around and do nothing. Too young to hang out with your friends without it being seen as weird by other people and too old to try to make new friends at school, which you still attend, the same year, the same grade, for 20 years straight.

So you are godfather, you are babysitter, you are anything to keep you in their lives.

You think that, by now, they are tired of trying. They've been trying for 13 years. You are done trying, too.

You really want to start aging again.

"I'm sorry for your loss," say the people who walk past you as you stand at the back of the chapel alongside your sister. You keep getting these weird looks from the passersby, but those who understand are especially sweet and kind to you.

You are attending your mother's funeral. She was 85 when she bit the dust.

She was 71 years older than you. She kept telling you, "live, Danny, live," but you are so sick of living. You want to age again. You still wish it, after the 40th anniversary of being 14. Desiree still hasn't figured out how to make you age again. Not even her powerful wish granting magic can change the fact of the world: you are a halfa. You will never age.

Your father died many years ago. People gave you the same look that they are giving you now, as they look between you and your sister, 42 years apart. You hate that look.

Your sister Jasmine is now 56. Her oldest child has graduated high school, a feat you haven't managed even though you now have the most credits ever held by anyone in school ever. Her youngest child is 15. Yet another feat you haven't managed.

How badly you wish to be 15. How badly you wish to graduate high school. How badly you wish to be anyone but you right now.

Now, even Jasmine, who was once only 2 years older than you, has hit her breaking point. She is 98 years old, 84 years older than you, and stood no chance of living another day.

You sit in her hospital room, still 14, watching her and thinking that she was so lucky. At least she would escape life. At least she wouldn't have to watch everyone around her die and know that she would never join them.

Jazz's youngest child, who is 43 now, is watching you. She knows exactly what you're thinking. By now, she has become your mother, because you are still only 14, your mother died 28 years ago, and Jazz is too old to be able to watch out for you.

Imagine that. Your niece now has to watch over you like you are a self-destructive baby.

Yeah, right. If only that worked.

Jazz's two other children have by now finished with you. They have been around you and your problems for too long. Your only niece is just better at dealing with it.

"Uncle Danny?" asks your niece, and you correct her because she is 29 years older than you are. You don't want to be called uncle. "It'll be okay," she says, like she knows anything.

You don't want to sound bitter. You are just so done.

Jazz dies within two hours. By then, the Baxter family and the Foley family have showed up, each offering their goodbyes and prayers. They don't even look at you anymore, as if they are jealous of you. But they don't understand how bad your heart hurts.

The sad part is, you hold your sister's hand as she dies and you find yourself wishing that you could follow her. The last thing you say to her is, "tell Mom and Dad that I may never see them again."

Jazz is crying as she dies. She's crying for you and your hurt and for the fact that she's still staring into the face of her 14-year-old brother, whom she will also never see again.

You are the last one to leave that room. The doctors have to usher you out as you say goodbye to the last of your immediate family.

You are the last Fenton. You will always be the last Fenton. You will never join your mother and father and sister to make up the Fenton family again, to make it what it once was.

How badly you wish that you could just say hello to your mother and father again. But you will never see them again. Not in death, and certainly not in life.

You curse everything that made you a halfa.

You doubt that anyone has ever felt this kind of hurt.

You hate 14.

Your sister named her first son Daniel, after you. It was very kind, and you were very flattered at the time. You still kind of are, but then it just hurts.

It should be Daniel burying you, not you burying Daniel.

Actually, Daniel is the last of the Nicholson children to be buried. He died at age 67 of liver failure.

Your niece, Janet, who was so kind to you, died in a freak motorcycle accident two months after her mother died.

Your second nephew, Kade, died seven years after his sister. He drowned in a flood created by Vortex.

You hate how everyone is just slipping through your fingers and there's nothing you can do about it.

Sam and Dash, along with one of their two brilliant kids, died in a car wreck on their way north from their winter home in Tucson, Arizona. Their son, who had been unable to go down with his brother the week before they returned due to work, completely avoided you. He is certain that you could have stopped that car from crashing. He is certain that you could have at least rescued his mom, dad, and brother.

You are certain of those things, too.

Tucker has, by now, died of old age. Valerie, too. Even their kids are starting to drift into 'senior citizen' territory.

And here you sit. You haven't even made it into 'high school senior' territory.

You gave up on school. You had been attending the same classes for thirty-six years straight. You could memorize each and every line of those textbooks. You could repeat them by heart if you wanted.

It was pointless by now. You were only trying to keep up a façade. You are so done with that façade by now, it's not even funny.

Out of all of the things in the world that you can wish for, you wish to die. Or at least to start aging. But you still walk down that proverbial path towards life as the others meet the end of the road, the one called Death. They have finished their walk. It was long. It was hard. They deserve a rest.

But your walk will never be done. Your walk is harder. Your walk is longer. But you may never deserve a good rest, like Jazz and Sam and Tucker and your mom and your dad. You were not good enough like them.

All that you want to know is what they did so right that you did so wrong. All you want to know is how to get back on the path towards Death, the one you were riding for 14 years straight before the portal incident.

Approximately five years ago, one of the other two on the path towards life figured out how to disintegrate her ectoplasm. She was so sick of doing what you are doing. So sick of living and watching others die. You wish you could figure it out, but the only reason that she could was because her ectoplasm was unstable in the first place.

Now, only you and the man that you hate walk the lonely road towards life.

It only makes you want to die more.

You don't think that there's anyone who has ever wished that they could die so badly. And you're only 14, for the 91st year in a row.

You are so ready to die. So ready. You've lived your life. Now, you just want the rest of the death that was handed you on your 1st 14th year.

You've started talking to the man that you hate. You never understood him before now. You never understood why he always stalked your mother, or wanted to kill your father, or wanted you for his son. But now you do. Now you understand. This man has been a halfa for 135 years. Twenty years longer than you have. He must have been so lonely in that time.

It's been 115 years, you realize. 115 years of being 14.

Woo. Happy birthday, Danny Phantom. Enjoy your cake as you celebrate alone.

You look up at the dirty sky and remember flying in its cleanliness 115 years ago. You remember feeling the whole weight fall off of your shoulders as you fly about in the sky.

Now, flying is a burden. Flying means that you are still a halfa. Flying means that you won't be dying anytime soon.

Again, you curse the day that you were created.

You find your way into the old Fenton Works, which you like haunting so that everyone will stay away from here. Though it has aged, unlike you, you can still lay down on your sister's old bed and pretend that you can still smell her. There are still pictures of a happier time on the wall.

You want all of that back. You would give anything to have all of that back.

Before you know it, you are back down in the old lab, which still reeks of ectoplasm. Amazingly, the portal is still active. You do not use it often, unless you're going to visit Clockwork, who has kindly offered you an apprenticeship if you so choose to take it, so you have something to do with your endless life. You will probably not take it, but the offer was heartfelt and kind.

You look around the lab and imagine everything the way it was on the day that you first became immortal. You imagine scattered inventions. You imagine the portal, plugged in but off because your father forgot that he installed the 'on' button on the inside.

If not for that, you would not be in this hell.

A rush of emotion hits you, but you tell yourself that it's not emotion because ghosts don't feel emotion. You've been telling yourself that since Sam and Dash died, to keep the hurt away. It's kind of been working. Except not really.

You are staggered by the amount of memories and emotions that rush to meet you. You stumble over to a corner and meet a wall, pressing to its cold metal to beg it to make your heart the same way: cold, so you never have to feel this kind of hurt again. Something wet is dropping off of your face but you can't tell what it is until you turn around and slide down the wall in the corner.

After 115 years, you are finally crying over your predicament. You are still a 14-year-old child, stuck with 14-year-old emotions because apparently someone has been out to get you for 115 years. You draw your knees up close and your hands even closer, using them to hide any tears falling from your eyes. No one is down here but you, and yet you are so embarrassed.

You weep. You weep for your mother, your father, your sister, for everyone that you ever loved or knew, because you know that they're dead and they've been dead for at least twenty years.

How exactly does one move on from this? Or should you stop all of the Phantom antics? You could just hide out down here. Live out the rest of your life as Danny Fenton, so you never have to get attached to someone and watch them die before your very eyes.

You're so scared. You are only 14, but you've been 14 for 115 years and you are so sick of being 14 that you can't even explain it. Your chest is heaving, it aches for you. Your heart hurts most of all. You regret ever getting attached to anyone at all. If you had known that this would happen when you were much younger, you would never have gotten attached to anyone. Maybe that would make never aging easier to handle.

After a while, you stop because you hear something. You look up over your wet hands, trying to find who is speaking. No one should know that you are here. Then, there it is again!

"Danny..."

You know that voice. You've missed that voice for so long. You haven't heard it in 74 years. "...M-mom?" you whisper, because you can't believe it. More tears fall. You can't explain how nice it is, hearing her voice again.

"Danny..." your mother replies, though you do not know where the voice is coming from.

You leap straight to your feet and hover like you haven't in years. "Mama!" you say, and your heart aches so much, so much. "Mama, where are you? I can't see you anywhere! Are you a ghost?"

Sadly, you really hope that she is a ghost. Maybe then she'll stay with you and you'll never be lonely again.

"Danny..." she says again. You start to think that maybe you are hearing things. Maybe someone is playing a recording of your mother's voice calling your name.

You will destroy whoever is doing that.

More tears flood your eyes at that thought. Maybe you really are alone. Maybe they aren't going to be there. Maybe you are the last Fenton ever. What were you thinking? The Fentons were ghost hunters. They did not become ghosts themselves.

Still, your excitement overtakes you. You beg for that voice to come again. You always were a mama's boy. "Mama, please, I can't find you... please... don't be fake..." Your feet hit the ground and then your knees, and then you're crying all over yourself again, and you feel pathetic and so alone, and you just want everything to end.

You pray that sweet Desiree will grant your last wish and just kill you through and through, so you can be out of this hellhole and back with your Mama and your Dad.

"Mama..." You know it must be fake.

"...Danny, sweetie..."

"Please stop playing tricks... I can't take anymore tricks..." You can barely talk around your sobs. You are going to kill the mother fucker who is doing this to you. You are going to teach that person to never mess with Danny Phantom, especially when they're using your Mama.

Another voice joins the first, one that you haven't heard in about 77 years. "Danno, please. Listen to your mother."

"I'm trying!" you scream at nothing. "I'm trying, but I can't find you and I know that you're fake so just... just go away..."

You hate being 14. You hate it so much. You want to be dead.

"Come on, little brother. You aren't even thinking," yet another voice joins the first two, and you're doubled over in pain. You grab your hair and try to yank it out.

"I've got the same brains that I had when I was 14, Jasmine, I can't think! I recall you saying that! I've been 14 for 115 years and I hate it! I hate 14! I want to die!" You scream in the hopes that they'll hear you and offer some of their deadness to you.

The three voices tut at you and encourage you to listen to them. Why don't you listen to them, Danny?

But you are curled up on the floor, crying your eyes out for your terror and loneliness. You are terrified of spending another 115 years alone. You are terrified of spending another year alone. You are terrified of spending another day alone.

The three voices stop, and only the first one speaks again. "Danny, sweetheart... you've been so strong. Come here, baby. Come to the portal. Let us help you..."

"Help me?!" you cry. You think that's ridiculous. The most that they've done is make everything ache. "Y-you can't help me! You're fake! You're a stupid recording! P-please, go away..."

The voice stops, and you think in horror that you really did scare it off. But... that was still your mother's voice! You've missed it so much! You want it back already! "N-no, Mama..." You keep weeping.

"...Daniel James Fenton. Please. Let Mama and Daddy and your big sister help you. We want you to come home to us. Please, sweetheart, just come to the portal. Take one look inside. You'll see what we mean."

You don't know if you want to trust the voice. Okay, no, that's wrong. You want more than anything to trust the voice. Besides, if it's a trick, maybe you'll be attacked. Maybe you'll be killed. Maybe you really can return to your family.

You push your feet beneath you and limp slowly over to the portal, looking into the swirling green mass beyond it. Tears are already pouring down your cheeks all over again. You didn't know that ghosts could have this much emotion.

Staring back at you through the Fenton Portal are three familiar faces. Your mother, though wispy, looks just like she did when you first became immortal. Tears are also streaming down her face. Jazz stands off to the side, looking not a day over 16. She's clutching your father's and mother's hand. Behind them, your father holds his two girls tight to him. Between your mother and your sister, there's a little space, perfectly Danny Fenton-sized. You want to fit there. You look between the three people that you miss the most, asking them what to do.

It is Jazz who answers you, reaching a hand out as though to stroke your face. "Oh, Danny," she says, "you've been so brave. I've never been so proud of you. Do you remember how you became a halfa in the first place?"

Of course you do. You can't forget the first day of the rest of your endless life. You nod slowly. You want desperately to go in and hold them tight, to just feel them again. It has been so long since you last held anyone.

Jazz smiles at you. "Good. Danny, you need to unplug the Portal," she says. But you find that notion ridiculous. This is, after all, the first time that you've seen or heard any of them in 33 years.

"N-no!" you protest, "I-if I do, then I can't see you... I need to see you... I need you..."

Your mother almost starts crying all over the place. "Sweetie, we need you too. It'll only be for a little bit. Then you never have to leave us again."

You are surprised. "Y-you can make that happen? Not even Desiree can make that happen."

Jazz laughs at you, but her laugh is very wet. "Please listen to me, Danny. Please trust me. I want you here, with us."

You slowly nod again. You want to be with them, too, and you tell her so.

Jazz is crying again. "Okay, Danny. It'll be okay," she says, and for the first time you believe it, "I need you to unplug the Portal. Then go inside and turn it off, just like how you turned it on. Then go out and plug the portal in, and do what you did to turn into a halfa."

"But... that'll turn me into a halfa all over again. It won't do anything. Jazz, I can't be a halfa anymore! I can't handle it!" you plea.

Your mother hushes you when you start crying again as you think of all of those years of watching your friends and family die around you. "No it won't, baby, no it won't," she assures you. "It half killed you the first time. If it half kills you again, you'll be all dead. You can be with us again. Please, baby... come home..."

You look from the portal to the door leading upstairs and think of how you don't want to deal with another day of this hell. You scrabble to your feet and find the plug. Before you unplug it, you look in at your family and offer them a rare smile. "I love you guys," you whisper.

"We love you too," says your entire family. Your father gives you a great big thumbs up.

You yank the plug apart.

Your family's faces disappear and you find that you already miss them. You run a mantra through your head: we love you too, we love you too, we love you too. The very last thing that your family tells you. You limp forward (your foot fell asleep sometime recently and hasn't woken up yet) into the portal.

Of course, you immediately find the button that you're looking for. You smash the button with your palm and limp back out.

Portal unplugged. Portal off. Now you just have to plug it back in again and turn it on, and you can be with your family again. Don't think about the pain. That will mean nothing once it's all over and you're crying into your mother's arms. After this, you can cross a bridge from the proverbial path of Life straight to the end of the path of Death.

You plug the portal back in slowly and look around at this old place nostalgically. But the more that you do, the more that you think of those 115 years. So, brashly and without hesitation, you go forward. Your leg has awoken just for this moment, it seems.

You step into the portal and you fly back 115 years, to a time exactly like this. When you hadn't been tortured like you have been. When turning the portal on was an accident.

Well, it won't be an accident this time.

You stride forward with all of the confidence that being Phantom has brought you. You look down at the fateful button, put your hand on it, and push.

You feel electricity coursing through your veins. It's even worse than the first time. You scream and you're jerking around and oh god it hurts, but your thoughts are not on anything but one. They are on nothing but the Fenton family waiting for you on the other side.

You stumble out of the other side once the electricity has run its course. You cannot find your footing, but before you trip, you run into something. You look up into lavender eyes that you haven't seen in 74 years. "M-Mama..." you breathe, only because you don't believe it.

Your mother doesn't reply. She only wraps you in her arms and rocks you back and forth. You're both crying all over each other. It feels so nice, because you haven't been held by her in over 74 years. You forgot how warm her arms were.

Jazz and your father come up behind you and Jazz hugs you tight, so you twist in your mother's arms so you can reach across and hug her, too. You laugh as all three of you are hefted from your feet by your father.

A light flickers above your family, and all four of you look up at it. It descends slowly on you and engulfs you, and it feels so warm, so nice. You are so glad that you're home.

Your mother kisses your forehead as the light picks all four of you up and delivers you to that special place at the end of the road. Was it heaven? You don't know. But you do know that, for awhile at least, it'll feel like heaven as long as your family's there.

The four of you huddle at the foot of the judgment table. "Heaven," says the judge of Jack. "Heaven," says the judge of Maddie. "Heaven," says the judge of Jazz.

You antsily wait there for them to let you go back to your family.

The judge looks upon you, looks down at your record, and gives you a fond smile. "Heaven," he says, but it's much softer than Jack's, Maddie's, or Jazz's.

You are almost shocked but you don't know why. You get to spend the rest of all eternity with your family! You don't have to be alone anymore! You'll never be alone again! You have made sure of that, by being so good and enduring so much.

In joy, you launch forward, and are caught by the soft arms of your loving, awaiting family, and you know that you will never, ever, ever be alone again.

Well? How was it? Was anyone else weeping?

I really really hope that you enjoyed it! Please review/favorite! All reviews will be answered via PM.

~Until next time,

YAJJ