Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. They belong to Butch Hartman. (Right? Right.)

It itches.

The base of his spine itches.

It had started off as a tingle near the beginning of summer. He had barely noticed it then, what with the Ghosts he had to tackle. He just simply scratched it until it went away. But now? Now it had steadily increased slowly to the point of almost unbearable and where even putting anti-itch cream (that Jazz had let him borrow) had done nothing. Jazz had been worried but he had waved her off claiming that it was some ghostly rash and then proceeded to shut himself inside his room for the next week.

It was now day 7 of the mysterious itch.

Danny sighed as he looked at the raw bloody skin as he continued to peel off the loose dead skin. It hurt, but he knew that it had to be cleaned or it'll infect. Looking closer he noticed something poking out of the skin. Still covered in small bits of skin and blood was bone.

He stared. And really, if it weren't his ability to stay quiet while cleaning his wounds after fighting ghosts, (or being shoved in a locker) and his desensitisation of gory stuff the only sound he made before fainting was:

"Ew."

June 8:

It was just a little bump. Easily covered by a long t-shirt or pants. The only weird thing was the fact that the bump was bone. That was sticking out of his back. Tailbone. Whatever.

He didn't tell anyone of it.

June 9:

Was it him or did it get bigger? Still easy to cover but have to be careful about jumping. Sam and Tucker had stopped their pestering, finally having believed him about being fine. The not-bump didn't show up in his ghost form.

June 10:

Today was really painful and he had slept the entire day. Jazz had thought he simply had a small fever what with his temperature being a normal humans at the time. (Being half-ghost had his body temp being lower than average.) He had woken up to the Bump growing its own muscles and skin and that it had grown another inch.

June 12:

He finally decided to look closer at the growth. The bone was a little pointy at the end, almost like a horn. It wasn't completely covered with skin but it didn't bleed as heavily now. The second wasn't completely formed-from what he could tell-and really it just seemed like a normal bone to him. It still creeped him out, to be honest.

June 15:

His parents hadn't noticed anything and Jazz had only sent him the occasionally worried look whenever he scratched around the area of the bone.

June 18:

His hunger had increased and he had begun drinking more calcium drinks, to make up for what he had figured was the Bump's doing. It had grown to at least half a foot and seemed to grow a little faster every day. His parents still haven't noticed what was happening. Sam and Tucker had been dragged out to their respective family trips and couldn't come back until the end of Summer. He missed them but knew he wouldn't have been able to hide it any longer were it not for that.

June 25:

One and a half feet long. And still going. Danny kept having to change the sheets in his bed because of the blood. He took frequent showers, wincing every time the water hit an open wound. He was really glad he didn't scar as easily. It would have been much harder for him to clean it.

June 28:

He gave up on the sheets and just slept on top of a red thick towel that would hide the stains well. Parents were stuck in the basement working on something that would help them with capturing ghosts harmlessly (like the thermos, but they had lost both the blueprint and thermos.) so they could learn better about them. He was glad to have finally convinced them of the idea that not all ghosts were bad. Albeit a bit wary of how they were doing it. Ghosts weren't animals.

One step at a time.

June 31:

The ghosts and him had come to a silent agreement, that so long as they didn't terrorise the town/commit crimes etc. they were free to do as they like. Danny had taken to tying a jacket he had found digging in his closet around his waist. That way, he could stop any blood for a short time and to hide the obviously growing not-a-bump.

July 10:

Things were peaceful. Ghosts weren't attacking today. The only thing was that his jacket had slipped off while talking with Ghostwriter (they had made up before summer started) and that the reality bending ghost had seen the blood.(thankfully not the false-bump) Danny had paled when asked about it and had stammered about needing to go home to get something. He ran all the way back home, never noticing the concerned look on the writing ghost's face.

"I hope he is alright."

Ghostwriter turned away.

"May he sleep well tonight."

July 15:

Jazz had to leave for her next college tour for the week. His parents, to a ghost convention. When asked to join them, he had declined giving an excuse about playing online games with Sam and Tucker. They had nodded and told him to keep an eye on the house while they were gone. They never realised that both Sam and Tucker had no access to computers, from where they were.

July 18:

Was it growing hair? Sticky and wet with blood.

July 20:

He could sorta move it if he tried. Still hurt, though. Lots of blood still. It was almost enough to give him anemia.

July 26:

Four feet and still growing. He had stayed inside the house these last few days. The ghosts had started to come fewer and fewer, having realised D-day was nearing. Only Ghostwriter and a few unknowns had come over a bit. The writing ghost had stayed with Danny simply chatting with him. He never questioned the blood again and had played ignorance on his increasingly sickly appearance. Danny was grateful for it.

July 27:

No ghosts came through the portal today except Ghostwriter. Not even the box ghost came today.

Tomorrow was his Death day.

July 28, 2:00 AM:

The sharp pains had grown from day one but today was unbearable. In a burst of instinct, he had stumbled from his bed, still half asleep. Almost drunkenly he transformed into his ghost form and sank down through the floor to the ghost portal.

The Catalyst that started it all.

Walking forward he turned toward the computer that controlled the portal. Typing down the password, it shut it down with a flash and swirl of ectoplasm. As it died, a small yell was heard but he paid no heed to it.

With glazed eyes he walked forward, turning human as he went. The not-bump trailed behind him, brushing the floor and slowly swinging with each step.

One. Swish.

Two. Swoosh.

Three. Swish.

Four. Swoosh.

Fi-

A hand on his shoulder stopped him, one foot almost in the entrance of the portal. Turning he came face to face with Clockwork, ghost of Time. The ghost shook his head. Danny turned his head to look at the portal. Then back at Clockwork. A tear slid down the halfa's face.

Green flashed in his eyes, and with an echo to his voice he asked.

"Why?"

The age-changing ghost pulled him in for a hug, chin resting on the halfa's head. Grimly he answered.

"It is not your time, Daniel."

His hands started to shake. Grabbing onto the cloak, he wept. About what, neither knew and yet they did. And so he cried. For his worries. For his pain. For his struggles. For anything and everything. He cried until he couldn't anymore.

The time ghost held him all through the morning until Danny finally fell asleep with tear stains on his face.