Tired and sore, Valerie Grey walked into her bedroom. She'd spotted the telltale flashes of light from a ghost fight a while ago, and had spent the hours since trying to hunt down the ghost boy--he was probably weaker and an easy target after the fight. Unfortunately, she'd had no luck.

Sighing, she flicked on the lights...

...and froze at the far too familiar black-and-sliver form standing calmly half-hidden in the shadows with his back to her, apparently looking at the pictures hung carefully on her wall. She whipped out one of the several pistols she wore at all times.

"Shoot me, Valerie." he said evenly, not even turning. "You know you want to."

"What?" Valerie was shocked.

"Shoot me."

"I--I don't take orders from anybody!" she shouted wildly, unsure of what to do.

"Yeah, no one but Vlad and your dad."

"Shut up, ghost boy."

He sighed. "Just shoot me, Valerie."

"Why?"

"Just DO IT!" He yelled agitatedly, but kept his back to her. She slightly lowered the pistol trained on his back. She could see his fists clench, and suddenly noticed green and red blood splattered all over him. Red? Had he killed someone?

"Please." he almost whispered, and his shoulders sagged. "Please, Valerie." Pleading haunted his voice, and the Huntress was suddenly filled with worry. What was wrong with him? He wasn't acting like he was supposed to. He was supposed to act evil, like a ghost, not like a...a human.

"What's wrong, Phantom?" She asked, careful not to let any worry tint her voice. But though her tone was free of worry, the usual malice and anger were also absent.

"I..." He began to turn, and Valerie's lowered pistol shot back up. "I'm...blind."

She could see it now...the blood, both green and red, curiously enough, was seeping from various woulds scattered across his body. The most noticeable, however, stretched across his too-pale face, covering both eyes. He turned his head towards her, and she shivered at the deadness in his unnatural green eyes. Always, always when she had seen him before, even locked deep in battle, those eyes had been alight with life, queer and somehow beautiful in his ghostly, dead, white face. But now...

"How?"

"Walker. I was foolish, careless...It's my fault. He nailed me with an ectoblast and used the diversion to inject something into me, a poison."

"But why do you want me to shoot you?"

"I'm defenseless now. I can't even see my enemies, let alone fight. I'm a sitting duck." He hung his head. "Besides, I'm dying anyways, and I don't want Walker to be able to say he killed me."

"But why me?"

"Better to go at the hand of a friend than the hand of a foe."

"I'm not your friend, Phantom."

"Yes, you are, Valerie, whether you realize it or not. So, as someone who considers himself to be your friend, please. Shoot me."

"Why do you think I'm your friend?"

"You hate me, but you help me sometimes, for one thing. You've had opportunities to kill me before, but haven't. I have other reasons that I can't explain.

"Please, Valerie, just shoot me. End it."

"What about Manson and Foley? Aren't they your friends?" She ignored his unsettling pleas for the moment.

"Yes. But they'd never do as I asked. They wouldn't understand. You would."

"Why would I and not them?"

"They've been through bad things, but you've been through worse. You know what it's like to have someone who hates you enough to murder you. They don't. I keep them as far from danger as I can. And...It would hurt them."

"I'm...I'm not a murderer, Phantom."

"It's not murder, Valerie... I'm not even really human anymore, right? I'm the freak, the Ghost Boy, the number one menace."

"Yeah..."

"Please, Val."

Still she hesitated.

"Please, Val, it'll be easy...just pull the trigger...remember what I did to you...Please."

"...No."

"PLEASE, Valerie! I don't want to be killed by Walker or Skulker or Plasmius or Ember or anyone of them! If I had to die, I would have wanted to die defending Amity, but I can't do that anymore. I won't be useless. I won't be pitiful. I want to die on my feet, in control of myself, at the hand of someone I care about, not on my back, driven mindless by pain, defenseless and clueless.

"Please." He murmured brokenly, the last of his urgent strength spent and the poison beginning to affect him.

"No, Phantom."

"Please...end it...it hurts..." He seemed to be talking to himself, teetering on the brink of consciousness. His wounds were serious and it was amazing that he'd remained steady for as long as he had.

"No, Phantom. I can't."

"Val, please...SHOOT ME!" He screamed as the poison suddenly knifed agony through his abdomen. He fell to his knees, gripping his stomach, blank eyes staring widely at the floor in front of him.

"Danny!" Valerie cried, forgetting that she had decided to never call her precious Danny and that evil Phantom by the same name. "Danny!"

"Please..."

"Okay, Danny. Okay." As she finally agreed, he seemed to draw some last vault of strength into himself and regain some amount of awareness. His blank gaze swung up to meet her eyes, and the ectoplasmic green almost looked alive again as a glinting tear gathered in one corner. But ghosts can't cry...

"Aim for the heart. It won't hurt."

"Okay." she sobbed.

Danny Phantom forced himself to his feet, suppressing the shuddering with sheer willpower, and faced the Red Huntress squarely, without fear.

"Thank you, Val. Tell them I died on my feet. Tell them I was ready, that I wanted it to end this way. And that I'm sorry. For everything."

She held the pistol in shaking hands as tears streamed down her face. "Danny..." she whispered. "...I'm sorry!"

She fired.

A small, relieved smile formed on his face just before the bolt hit him. It tore with red fury into his black-garbed chest, and his face became as blank as his eyes, his smile loosing the light that had defined it and made it brilliant. He began to fall, but Valerie stepped forwards and caught the body, barely able to stand for her weeping.

"Please, Danny, no..."

I would meet my end

At the hands of friends.

I deny my foes that joy.

They cannot destroy

What is already lost.

I will pay the cost

To know they won't defeat

Me. One last deceit

To trick them of their last

Victory; I will surpass

Her hatred, and grant one

Last request--let it be done.

A/N: Yeah. I agree. It sucked. Oh well. I'll blame the plot bunny. Please review and tell me how sucky it was! Poem by Silence Loud.

DP's not mine.

~Slvrstar.