I do not own Danny Phantom. I also do not take full credit for this one-shot. It was co-written with my friend, GFNatalie12. Thanks for helping Natalie!
If you like this, I recommend you to read Natalie's "What We Could Have Been," which is good for ValeriexDanny and SamxDanny lovers alike, and perfectly captures Valerie's feelings after Phantom Planet. A sad, beautiful tragic one-shot that I'm sure you would enjoy.
Thanks again to her for helping write this one-shot.
For many, silence is a welcome peace. A relaxing and welcome thought in our very naïve minds. We choose silence to study, sleep, pray, read and think. Silence is a time when our bodies are completely vulnerable, yet we subconsciously glimpse over this fact. Instead we allow our full trust onto everything in the world, everything that we forget is full of hatred, evil, and spite. We are no longer safe, and yet we feel much safer while in this state of relaxation, as though all bad in the world has passed and ceased to exist and if we forget that the evil is there, it will no longer be.
Right now was one of those silent times. Whether it was late at night or early morning, nobody knew. All anyone knew was that the world was lost in bliss, a peaceful silence that contrasted beautifully with the business and rush of their everyday lives. All over the globe, millions and millions grew into the familiar feeling of night, towns all over the world fell into a peaceful relaxation.
Save for one town in an area of he country that had grown to be all too familiar to the rest of the world: Amity Park, Wyoming. Known for being the "Most Haunted Town on Earth", and of course for being home of the world-famous ghost hero, Danny Phantom. This town was filled with a different type of silence. Unlike the peaceful relaxation that filled the rest of the globe with its warmth, this town was suspiciously silent, as though everything that would normally be loud and obnoxious was now in hiding while it planned something big. This silence was tense, the air of expectancy before it all breaks loose, the calm before the storm. It was the silence, along with the gut instinct that all of the town's citizens had adapted to, that pushed them all to the edge of their seats despite their futile attempts to relax. Those who slept, slept with a half-conscious mind, partially awake and ready to act upon a moment's notice.
And then, slowly, all the remaining lights from bedroom windows went out. Every last street lamp dimmed to almost nothing, and the clouds covered the moon, engulfing it into a sea of darkness as black as the shadows of evil that one could feel creeping around, waiting to strike. The sky became as thick as the foggy air, engulfing everything into a blanket of black that made it almost impossible to see what was right in front of you. For there truly was nothing in front of you but blackness. Not a hint of light anywhere amidst the sea of nothingness.
Save for two bright glowing green eyes scanning the night sky. Though anyone who saw his whole face up close would instantly see that he was beyond tired, one could also tell that he held a glimmer of defiance, of pride, his eyes glowing brightly and stubbornly as he refused to give in to the exhaustion that clouded over his body. They darted challengingly around the town as he flew, daring any ghost that might be out there to make his move and see where it landed him.
His eyes knew something you didn't. If you were an enemy, this was a truly horrible thing. He had secrets to use against you, incredible things that could ultimately result in your success... or demise. If you were a human, however, this was good for you. He knew things you didn't, things that he could easily tell you, but chose not to for your own safety. Things that you were not meant to know or could never comprehend, and he was keeping those things from you in order to protect you from them. He could save anyone from any ghost, any monstrous being that dared to threaten you, but when it came to the emotions, the only way to truly save you was to make sure you never endured what he did. When it came to these things, ignorance truly was bliss, be it cliché or not.
And his eyes held emotion, far more than any self-proclaimed "ghost expert" would ever admit, or ever comprehend. They had seen him laughing, though they assumed it was to taunt his enemies. They had seen him get frustrated at an annoying ghost, or get angry at one of them when they messed with people he claimed to care about. They had seen him smile scarcely when somebody thanked him, or seem disappointed or annoyed at people who put him down. Yes, they had seen these emotions, however much they didn't want to. They had told themselves and others more times than they could count, that he was only acting. That it was all a ruse to gain their trust. Never, would they admit to anyone, ever, that they somehow believed him. A part of them trusted him, somewhere in a deep corner of their mind that even they were afraid to go into.
And never would Danny admit that in a small corner of his mind, he was scared. Scared of the ghosts that attacked the town. Scared that they might reveal his secret, or that someday he may not be strong enough to stop them. Scared that everybody was right, that he really was a freak, that he would someday lose the acceptance and love that he had worked so hard to gain. Scared of the people who hated him, who hunted him. And most of all, he was scared of himself, of the things he could do to himself and to those he cared about if he ever lost his self control and strong sense of wrong and right.
Nobody knew he was afraid of these things. If he had told them, they wouldn't understand. One did not truly understand Danny until they took the time to really get to know him, until they took a chance and discovered the real reason he was so scared of everything. If you knew him, you would understand too.
For it wasn't the fear of physical problems that caused this fright, but the emotional knowledge that he was, indeed, powerful. And that thought scared him to his core, racking his insides with guilt. With great power came great responsibility, and Danny was merely a teen. A kid, really. Too much responsibility at a young age could be dangerous, and he had to admit to himself sometimes on nights like these that he was powerful, and powerful meant dangerous, and danger meant loss. And if this were not enough, there was far worse in his life than the fear of being his own demise. Something that doubled the responsibility that came with his self-appointed hero role.
For you see, Danny Phantom was no ordinary ghost. Nor was he an ordinary kid.
Danny Phantom was, in fact, Danny Fenton. The shy, clumsy kid who sat in the back of the class. The loser who got beaten by bullies on a daily basis. The boy who was calm, quiet, normal.
It was all much worse. Nobody knew that he got beaten by ghosts more often than bullies, and took far more damage from them than any jock could ever dish out. He was far from calm and quiet, he was always tense and ready to fight. He sat in the back of the class so he would be less likely to be seen making up for lost sleep from late night patrols like this one.
As he flew through his bedroom window in the late - err, early - hours of the day, he thought about what it would be like if he just told everyone who he really was, and an image of those ideas overtook his thoughts.
Why did that image look so much like a bazooka?
He found himself unable to fall asleep, despite his utter exhaustion. A looming feeling grasped his conscience, and his gut instinct told him that whether it be soon or far down the road, something was about to happen. Something big.
Tonight, everything was calm.
But that was the calm before the storm.
