Okay, gang. I have to ask this… who can forget September 11, 2001? No one. And neither can Danny Phantom, which I don't own.

Skyward Memories

No one probably noticed the shadowed figure sitting on top of one of the Statue of Liberty's crown spikes. It was around 9:11 at night, and a white haired, green-eyed teenage male was staring over the water that surrounded New York City. Two columns of light were shooting up from a spot on the ground towards the skies.

Towards freedom.

Danny Phantom swallowed, a single tear sliding down his cheek. He was staring at Ground Zero in the distance, the rubble and the memories filled deeper than the dust and emotions themselves. His mind began to fill with images and feelings of the attacks from that day. Danny hadn't been able to go to New York to help. Overprotective parents tend to do that, given they had put up a Ghost Shield around the house. Not that it did any good.

The pictures from the paper and the day's event at school began to race through. He couldn't see them all at once, but there were flashes. The people screaming, the buildings falling, the planes crashing… he was only in fifth grade. The teacher had, in a sense, had a spasm and fainted on the floor from shock of watching it so much. Apparently, her daughter was in the Second Tower when the plane hit. She had to be carried out of the room by about six teachers. The rest of the day was nearly cancelled, had the other teachers not take the kids into their class.

Danny wiped his eyes to no avail, more tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. Damn. It was too hard to forget the terror and absolute dismay of watching the whole thing on TV. He bit his lip.

Freedom sometimes sucked.

"Daniel."

He turned around, sniffing. Vlad Plasmius stood behind him, a light breeze blowing his cape to the west. There was no expression of maliciousness or hate in the line of his face. In fact, he looked about as sad as Danny felt. He stared at the light streams towards the sky, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

The hybrid was confused. Plasmius came to New York to see the Towers as well? "What are you doing here?"

"Reminiscing of past times," the billionaire replied quietly. "I can't believe that six years have passed, six years since the Towers were attacked. It was a nightmare for all to remember. I just wish…" He sat down next to Danny, who slid away in fear. "I just wish I could have helped those people running."

Danny couldn't believe what he was hearing. His archenemy, whom he had fought with for many months and other quarrels, had a… a spark of humanity in him? "You wanted to help them?"

Plasmius looked at the hybrid, slightly annoyed. "I was decent at one point, too, you know!"

"Why didn't you help?"

"Attention," Vlad shrugged. "I feared I would attract more media than the real heroes searching for those bodies in the rubble. They deserved all the attention. Besides, I would've rather kept my profile low than help those in need."

"Then you turned indecent."

Plasmius gave him a nasty look. "Shut up."

Danny stared at the beams that came up from Ground Zero. A memorial- a day of remembering those who died with freedom and those who died for freedom… in a sense. It seemed like common sense to him that a part of the freedom in the country had died alongside the collapses of Tower One and Tower Two. He hated that feeling of loss, of insignificance that he still couldn't do a thing.

Plasmius looked at him. "Danny?"

"What?"

He winced. Danny seemed to always speak so harshly to him. It was one night where he was trying to be decent to him, and the boy made it sound as if he were salt in an open wound. Talk about a long-time grudge. He looked at him, ignoring the silent sobs. "Will you just listen to me?"

"I'm listening, Vlad. I have been the whole time."

That caught the male half-ghost by surprise. Nonetheless, he kept a straight face. "It's okay to feel hopelessness. I feel hopeless all the time when I come here. Those nights I'm up here upon her crown and watching the city that never sleeps… I see Ground Zero, and all I can think about is the smoke plume rising from the crash site. I cry every time I'm out here." He wiped his eyes and tried to smirk at Danny. "But it wouldn't be a good thing to show you my soft spot now, would it?"

Danny blinked. "You're crying, Vlad?"

He stood up and looked at the streams of lights, and then turned his gaze towards the ghost kid. "Good night, Danny."

With that, he flew off into the distance.

The boy watched him and turned his gaze back towards the towers. The memorial. There was a sense of hopelessness in there that he felt. He had wanted to help save those people on 9/11 from terrorism, but he had his own problems at home.

It hit him.

He was a hero. And those who helped America on September 11, 2001 were more than just heroes. They were angels.