Okay, so a few encouraging reviews that tell me I'm not a total failure at this fanfiction-thing, and I've decided to give it more writing time. I've even got a multi-chapter DP fic in the works. More info in my profile, etcetc, and hey, maybe even one day I won't feel like I'm doing something extremely reckless every time I post fanfiction.

Summary: Vlad thought that it was truly a shame to allow grief and a photograph to waste away a powerful young halfa, but Daniel seemed unable to believe him.

Use of The Ultimate Enemy back story: the future where Jack, Maddie, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and Mr. Lancer are killed and Danny is left with Vlad. The photograph and Vlad placing a hand on Danny's shoulder inspired this fic, with support from music by Josh Rouse ("Sad Eyes" and "Life"), Shivaree ("New Casablanca"), Psapp ("Upstairs"), and Sarah Mclachlan ("I Will Remember You.")

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is owned by a certain Butch Hartman. That ain't me.

How Much You Mean It

Vlad Masters periodically went upstairs to check up on Danny. When he did, he'd often find the teenager in the room that was provided for him in his mansion, standing and staring sadly at a framed photograph brought from home. The picture was of Danny with his recently-deceased friends and family – Samantha Manson, Tucker Foley, and Jack, Maddie, and Jazz Fenton - all smiling and looking very happy as they stood outside that monstrous house that was called Fenton Works. When Vlad first inquired about it, Daniel had explained to him that it was from not long after he started his freshman year in high school. So it was recent, Vlad quickly deduced, taken within the past year.

On the days – and there were many of them – that Vlad looked around the door to find Daniel standing there, memorizing and memorizing again the memory behind the picture glass, he would discreetly let himself in and come to stand behind him. Danny had come to accept his occasional presence there, glancing up at him long enough to acknowledge that he was there before resuming his quiet mourning.

Sometimes Daniel would talk about them. They would be small anecdotes that hardly interested Vlad but lent insight into his life, so he would listen. Vlad thought it was for his benefit even as Daniel wouldn't look at him as he talked, instead addressing the photograph.

"There won't be any more hugs from Mom," Danny once said, his voice quiet. "No more crazy ghost-tracking inventions from Dad, no more Jazz to always be nosing around in my business. No more movie marathons with Tucker, and no more Sam to give me advice on the right thing to do…." He trailed off then, his gaze distant. For a moment Vlad had the impression that Daniel had forgotten about his presence entirely, or perhaps he was uncomfortable with saying anything more. Whatever the case, when nothing else was said, they both would let the subjects slip by without mention.

Daniel would then go on to talk about how much he missed those little things, the unique quirks that his friends and family each had. Things that cheered him up after a tough day at school or a difficult battle with a ghost, things he knew that nobody else could replace. Things he previously would never have shared with Vlad – knowing well that the manipulative man would twist it to his advantage - became something he wanted and needed to talk about.

And he would silently ask for Vlad to understand in any way he could. Little cues, like a glance in his direction, a change in tone, or a "You know?" and Vlad would nod in acknowledgment and murmur in ascent while truly having nothing else to say. Thankfully, Daniel seemed to take this as his best effort, or at least accept it as good enough.

Eventually the talking would cease again, and they would both stand there and gaze at the photo for long minutes in each other's company. Many times Danny would lift a hand, and his finger would slowly trace over each person through the glass. Sometimes he'd smile or give a soft laugh at a memory that would come to his mind before his face resettled into his grieving expression. Vlad respectfully didn't ask what he was thinking of, instead running his eyes over each of the faces himself as Daniel's finger slid past them one-by-one.

At the far left was Jack Fenton, grinning like the idiot husband and father that he was. Vlad found himself unsurprised that the large-sized fool had gotten himself killed. He could not regret that he was gone, not even for Daniel's sake, but the reality of his death was strangely unsatisfying. Vlad frowned. Perhaps because the circumstances had stolen his revenge from him.

Next was the always-lovely Maddie, with those stunning amethyst eyes of hers (hidden, sadly, by the headgear of her typical HAZMAT suit), and that sweet smile. The loss of her Vlad sincerely regretted from his heart. Certainly it was an undeserved, tragic end, and if only she had agreed to be with him, she would still be alive! But her choice was made, and now she was gone from his reach forever, not even to be found in the Ghost Zone; he knew - and he sensed that Daniel knew too - that she, like the others, was too kind of a soul to be attached to that realm.

Vlad lingered on her for a moment longer, then swept his eyes more indifferently over the others. Jasmine had been a sweet girl, but she often stuck her nose into business where it didn't belong; Ms. Manson had been a close friend of Daniel's, but far too clever for her own good; Mr. Foley had talent with technology, but overconfident in his own abilities. On more than one occasion, Vlad had felt that all of them had suppressed Daniel's potential and natural ability by being overbearing.

And then there was Daniel, in the center…Vlad would always look at him the longest, comparing him to the young man that stood in front of him now. Daniel did not wear smiles like the one in the photo anymore. Daniel had always had his insecurities and been painfully aware of them, but positive energy and strength of spirit that Vlad had observed in him many times during their encounters over the year flowed from the photographed version of him. He had friends and family beside him there. He was happy.

The Daniel in front of him was a shadow of that and a growing concern for Vlad. His shoulders were slumped and his head hung, weighed down by grief. His eyes did not sparkle with life and he often wandered listlessly about his castle mansion like a true haunt. He did not seek out connections with other people as he used to, either. Occasionally he would be randomly subject to pent-up fits of rage, but otherwise he was quiet and sullen, hiding himself in his room or away from Vlad for long hours at a time.

He had tried to provoke Daniel for any reaction that would give him a sign that the boy was returning to some normalcy, from attempting to be funny or considerate to being honestly annoyed or goading him for a fight, but more often than not the reward was weak smiles or tired glares. The fighting spirit had largely left the ghost boy, Vlad finally realized. He had not seen a touch of silver in Daniel's hair or green in his eyes since before the accident. Daniel's powers were still there, but he wasn't using them.

And he thought it was truly a shame to see this powerful young halfa waste away before him. He spent his waking hours as if he truly were half-dead, he slept without ever seeming rested the next morning, and he was suppressing his ghost side to the point where it hardly existed. As far as Vlad was concerned – and that concern was becoming persistent – it was a self-destructive pattern Daniel was putting himself through, an unnecessary addition to his grievances that had to be stopped.

"Daniel," he began, laying a hand on his shoulder in an almost paternal manner. Daniel responded best to comfort in words and presence, but this time he shrugged off Vlad's attempts.

"Forget it, Vlad," Danny said, turning his head away. His voice was cold and pained and tired. "You don't mean it." His fingers clenched around the picture frame he held so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Vlad sighed. He understood the reaction, and it would never be unexpected: Daniel did not trust him enough to truly believe that he cared for his well-being. "You should know better than to think that my actions are simply out of malice, Daniel," he told him pointedly. Danny shrugged in response. Yes, it would be difficult to prove himself otherwise, particularly considering the young man's state of mind and reflexive action to push Vlad away whenever he got close.

But Vlad Masters was nothing if not a bit persistent. Daniel needed time to grieve, but this constant dwelling over a photograph couldn't be healthy for him. Maybe Danny knew this, too, because he didn't fight when Vlad finally plucked the picture frame from his hand and laid it face down on the desk, where the photo it held couldn't be seen. Then he gently turned Danny around, stepped forward, and embraced him.

It was no surprise that Danny immediately tensed up in his arms. Of course that young mind was racing through all sorts of theories of what his "enemy" could be planning, and Vlad found himself thinking of the only time Daniel had embraced him, and that was to attach that gaudy-looking belt around his waist to short out his powers. It was a delightfully and irksomely underhanded move, not to mention an effective tactic, but backstabbing was not Vlad's intention today.

They stood just like that for some tense moments, Vlad's arms around Danny's shoulders in a loose hug. Danny never lifted his arms to return the embrace, but he didn't push away Vlad, either, who was half-expecting that ghost half of his to finally reappear and deliver a well-aimed ectoblast to his gut. At last, Danny's shoulders relaxed and he leaned inward slightly. His head landed over Vlad's breast pocket with the red handkerchief always tucked neatly away in it, his eyes falling closed.

That was a reassuring sign. "Chin up, Little Badger," Vlad murmured affectionately, placing a hand on top of Danny's messy black hair.

"Don't," Danny mumbled thickly into Vlad's suit. "You don't mean it."

Not for the people who had been taken from Daniel's life, no, he didn't.

But for Daniel, perhaps he did.