A/N: I'm pretty sure that these are supposed to be used for fanart, but I wanted to try my hand in writing some more for this fandom, and maybe actually finishing something for once. I hope it goes well.

This is a sort of in-between scene, from the season 2 fourth episode, "The Ultimate Enemy." If you haven't seen that, I doubt that this will make much sense.

Through all of the years he had spent alone, and the amount of energy he had forced into developing his powers, becoming as strong as possible, Phantom had yet to discover anything in this world or the next that was more frustrating than Mario Kart.

It was illogical. But maybe, over the ten years he'd lived without humanity to weigh him down, Phantom had just become used to all obstacles obliterating in his path. He so rarely had to try anymore. And all of his abilities, all of the energy he possessed, all of the millions he had agonized and maimed, wasn't going to help him win a stupid game on the Wii.

Next to him, he recognized Tucker cheering as he once again zoomed past the finish line. It took an impressive amount of self-control to keep from throttling his old friend. He felt the blue eyes of his disguise turn red for a moment and felt the plastic control in his grip creak as his hold threatened to snap it.

"Looks like you got me again, Tuck," Phantom said, his voice clipped. He sounded like a teenager again, and it unnerved him. He tried to distance himself as much as possible from the pathetic "hero" that he used to be.

Tucker didn't seem to notice that anything was amiss. He laughed. "I almost don't believe it! Dude, you usually destroy me in this game."

Destroy? Phantom had to keep back a smile. That would be so much easier than sitting in Tucker's room, pretending to be even the least bit interested in a video game and the mindless high school drama that Sam and Tucker rattled on about nonstop.

"I'll say," Sam sighed, setting her remote down and leaning back on her hands. Her attention was on Danny now, and Phantom had to quickly crush any feelings that rose as a result. She had always… confused him, and the same seemed to hold true even long after he had stopped caring about her. "Danny, you've been acting really weird since you got back from that awful future? Are you sure that you don't want to talk about it?" She pressed, concerned.

Phantom shook his head, and struggled for a moment before putting a smile on his face that hopefully wasn't too fake. He hadn't smiled earnestly in ten years. "It's alright, guys, seriously," He reassured them. Now that he had fallen into the rhythm of it, pretending to be a teenager again was almost too easy. "Look, the important part is that I got away, and we won't let that future become true." He was lying through his teeth, but they didn't need to know that.

Unfortunately, Sam had always been too smart for her own good. She reached out and put a comforting hand on Danny's shoulder. Immediately, Phantom bristled, pulling back from her touch as electricity ran through his body. There it was, again. When she had hugged him and held his hands after he had "returned" from the future, the same thing had happened. Then, it had been a minor annoyance, but now, it was annoying him.

Being a human was awful. The food that he had swallowed for appearance's sake had been dry and tasteless. His body felt constricting, like a prison. He hated the petty, mundaneness of it all. The small talk that drove him up the wall, having to walk everywhere, being tired just because the weather was a little too hot. He would trade his human self again and again, without hesitation. He loathed everything about humans. But, then, why did they make him feel so—?

Sam took his hands in hers, and he visibly recoiled. Heat nearly burned his palms, and there was that same tingle of energy. "Danny," she said quietly, and that was somehow even worse than touching him, because it shot energy straight through his core, "we're here for you. Anything you need. Ever. You know that, don't you?"

The way she spoke made his stomach churn and Phantom convinced himself that it was out of disgust. It didn't matter how an insignificant human girl made him feel. Her and Tucker both — they would be dead by this time tomorrow if everything went well.

For some reason, the thought didn't comfort him the way it was supposed to. But he couldn't dwell on that. If Phantom let go of anger, let go of hatred… if he stopped moving forward, and stopped existing, then what would he have left?

He dropped Sam's hands abruptly and got to his feet. "I'm going home," He said, speaking as calmly as he could. Sam looked like she wanted to protest, but the look in his eyes made her pause. Good. Already, Phantom was on the verge of ripping his human skin off simply to feel free again, and more pressure would not help.

He left Tucker's room, ignoring the whispers that broke out between the two of them as soon as he had shut the door. He could always listen in on them, but he told himself that he didn't care. All of the gossip in the world wasn't going to keep them safe, come tomorrow.

Phantom took a deep breath, even though he didn't need it. Infuriatingly, stupid little human habits still calmed him, occasionally. He let his feet leave the floor, and turned invisible, phasing through the ceiling. This was much better. Flying, he understood. That was something that hadn't changed in ten years. Even invisible, Phantom loved the way the wind and fresh air seemed to fix everything.

In the sky, he didn't have to think about Sam. He didn't have to acknowledge her comforting voice, her genuine smiles, the sidelong glances she always gave him when she thought he wasn't looking… None of it mattered. In the cool air, the electricity between them could be nonexistent. It almost reminded him of the Accident, so long ago, when he had had his life very painfully split in half. He couldn't remember the details very well anymore, but the way Sam made him feel was almost worse, in a way. Being electrocuted, he could understand. It was simple. But the way a brush of her skin could make him seize up was not normal. It wasn't right.

He had spent most of their friendship in the past running away from those feelings — what was one more day?

A/N: This has very little to do with actual electricity, but I'm going to count it, because it was fun to write.