A/N: It was long time ago since I watched Danny Phantom, but my god -this fandom has amazing fics. And all of you probably know that I'm referring to 'Checkmate' and other awesome fics.)
SUMMARY: Danny didn't make it through after the fight with the King Pariah. Two-shot. Character's death.
WARNINGS: So it's like my third fic on english and first for this fandom. In another words - lots and lots of mistakes.
DISCLAIMER: Butch Hartman is amazing and he is not me.
I give you a badly written angst of a kid's cartoon. By a foreigner. Keep that in mind.
...
He almost did it!
10%...
9%...
Danny's head was pounding and his weak limbs stubbornly continued to push into the firm surface of the trembling and shuddering coffin, under the raging screams that pierced through the air and his own ears.
8%...
The drops of sweat trickled down his forehead and nose and the droplets fell down on the furiously blinking and steaming desktop. He gasped for air as he continued to struggle with the resistance and the exhaustion that crept up along his spine.
6%...
Almost there. Almost!
5%...
He silently panicked when he felt his body weakening and his unresponsive legs gave out under him, causing the mechanic armor on him lower itself too. He tried to stay upright, but it looked like his body was against him this time. He slid down still stubbornly holding into the coffin, still trying to fight with the jumping inside it monster.
Through his hazy vision and the foggy glass he noticed a painfully familiar black-gloved hand that stretched over his head towards the coffin.
-click-
And with the last anguish scream –NOOOOOOOOO- the struggle ended.
Danny panted and gasped, trying to keep his attention focusing on something else than his weak body. His green eyes followed the gloved hand with a key clutched safely in its hold and he gasped out, confused and so tired to think.
"I don't understand."
"What? How I, with the help of two teens, tricked the Knight and overthrew the King? It is a chess Daniel, of course you won't understand."
Vlad. Right. Vlad was here. And many of his other enemies. Too.
But somehow Danny couldn't bring himself to care.
Tired… so exhausted… He distantly heard the –clank- sound as the Ecto-Skeleton's mechanic legs finally hit the floor under him. He was completely spent. His whole body ached and stung from the strain and –god- he can't and didn't want to move. He felt something warm rising up from his legs.
…he did it. He did it, didn't he? And even Vlad's gloating and totally obvious smugness about the whole situation couldn't pop the bubble of joy and relief that settled in his chest.
He saved them. Saved them all. Dad, Mom, Jazz, Tucker…Sam… They are safe. People are safe. Amity is safe. Ghost Zone is (more or less) safe. Everybody is safe. Safe. Safe. Safe.
Danny felt so tired, so happy. He let a little smile appeare on his lips as the warmth continued to climb up his torso and his hands tingled.
He gasped when suddenly those familiar cold –sososososocold- rings appeared and returned the black and silver to the white and grey. His own body shuddered violently as the rings passed his narrow frame and disappeared over his head, where with a little glitter his hair turned from white to black.
Huh, how funny. He never noticed his hair glittered when he transformed. Sam and Tucker would laugh at his discover. They will all laugh, when he will return. Laugh and hug and tease and-
God, Vlad was still saying something. Can this man be quite for once? He was droning on and on about his brilliance and stuff like what a genius is he to make such a mastermind plan, and Danny wanted to say something to keep the ego of those man, but Danny was so tired… so tired…
He felt the warmth spreading up his chest and to his shoulders. It felt like times…when in the chilly winter evening his Mom will wrap him in a fluffy warm –warmwarmwarmwarm- blanket and allow him to sit with her and watch cartoons. He almost felt her touching his forehead and saw her smiling down at him with her warm –warmwarmwarm- violet eyes and saying that he should sleep, that he should just close his eyes and-
"Daniel!"
Why Vlad was screaming? Does this frootloop don't get it, that he needs to sleep? After all those mind games, and fighting and schemes and everything. He deserved some sleep. He wanted to sleep. To close his eyes and let himself slip into the welcoming warm –warmwarmwarm- darkness…
Wait. He wasn't warm anymore. There was cold –coldcoldcold- swiping through his body, running through his hair and lightly touching his face and hands and neck, but then suddenly something hot –hothothot!- touch him there and he felt his breathing hitched lightly and he tried to lean back into the warm hotness- But his body was so tired. So content. So sleepy. He couldn't move. Can't move. Don't want to move.
He could hear something. He wasn't sure what, but he could hear something… or someone. Like a broken radio, the sounds tried to reach him through his mind that was wrapped into the warm and fluffy blanket of sleepiness, and memories of small talks and smiles, and hot chocolate and family and friends-
"Daniel, don't close your eyes!"
Were they talking to him?
Danny opened his eyes –wait he closed them? But when?
There were colors. They swirled, danced and blended into each other as he tried to focus on one. Purple. Green. White. Blue. Brown. Marble – wait was it a color? He wasn't sure. – Red…
Red. Red. Eyes. Face. There was a face.
Vlad's face.
Weird, does blue-faced can pale?
He didn't know, but it was funny. Pale blue face. Pale blue nose. Pale blue cheeks. Pale blue lips that were moving –saying-
Vlad wanted him to keep his eyes open. To look.
But he wanted to sleep…
Huh. There was a strange expression on Vlad's face.
Danny wanted to laugh.
Because Vlad didn't have such expressions.
It was strange.
Something warm –not hot, but warm and familiar and nice and comforting- was around him. All over him. In him.
He wanted to laugh so badly.
He wanted to say that Vlad looked funny, and weird, and strange and that he was a frootloop for having such foreign –wrongwrongwrong!- expression on his face.
He didn't want to see it. It wasn't Vlad's. It wasn't right. It didn't feel right. Nothing felt right, but in the same time it was so right.
Danny forced his eyelids open again –and when exactly did he closed them, again?- and let his tired gaze wander into the endless red.
Oh right.
Vlad.
"H-hey Vlad."
"…Yes, Daniel?"
Danny wanted to laugh at Vlad's strange voice too. But he was exhausted. He was tired.
"I…I…"
Danny's thoughts wandered to his sister, who would have scolded him for saying such blunt things, to Sam and Tucker, who would have laughed with him, to his parents, who would have frowned disapprovingly at him-
"I…d- don't…"
He wondered if Vlad was hearing him. Because his voice was so weak. So small. So tired. But he should say something. Needed to say something.
"I…don't…ha-"
He took a shuddered breath and paused.
"…"
"…Daniel?"