Happy 4th Dannyversary!! Here's a little oneshot songfic for the occasion!
Disclaimer: Danny Phantom belongs to Butch Hartman. The song 'Proud of Your Boy' belongs to Alan Menken.
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Not again...
Danny could only stare mournfully at his digital wristwatch, the illuminated screen displaying the time. It read 10:27 P.M.; he'd missed his curfew again.
Transforming back into his human self, the halfa stood in front of the door to his house, knowing the three-inch thick slab of wood and steel was the only thing standing between him and two angry parents. He forced his hand to take hold of the brass doorknob, also knowing that with every second he wasted standing outside, the angrier his ghost hunting parents would become.
Danny sighed, ready to face another lecture. He slowly cracked the door open and peered around the other side, only to come face to face with Jack and Maddie, both with arms crossed and glares fixed to their faces.
"Danny..." His father saying his name with that tone never meant something good. "Come inside. You're late again." That was what he said every night his son arrived home late. The young halfa could tell it was only a matter of time before the big lecture started, taking up another half-hour of all three of their lives, and would be sure to end in his parents stomping off into the night for ghost hunting.
"Sit down. We need to talk." His mother ordered, as per routine. Danny obliged, closing the door and plunking himself down on the living room sofa. He couldn't stop staring at the carpet, not willing to face his parents' cold, disappointed glares. On the inside, the halfa was mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead. Something inside him, maybe a sixth sense, told him that this wouldn't end well.
"Danny..." Maddie began. "We're just going to cut straight to the point. There's obviously a reason you're late almost every night, and we want to know why. So either you tell us, right here, right now, or you're grounded." Her voice was stern and authoritative, but had an underlying edge to it. "Well?"
Danny still wouldn't look up from the floor. He couldn't bring himself to tell them. Not yet. There was too much tension in the air. Also, there were two ghost bazookas lying on the floor, ready for use. Toss in the fact that their son was - in Jack and Maddie's eyes - possibly being overshadowed by their worst enemy, and that's a recipe for disaster just waiting to happen. The halfa sighed, rubbing his hands together. "I...I can't. I'm sorry."
"Alright, then. That's too bad." The angry mother continued. "Well, since you won't say anything, then I guess you've forced us to do this." She drew in a deep breath. "If you're late one more time, young man, then we have no choice but to give you an 8 o'clock curfew."
Danny's head shot up at that. Staring wide-eyed, slack-jawed, he cried, "B-but, that's not fair!" He stood up from his seat. "I mean, it's not my fault I'm always late!"
"Then tell us why!! Why won't you trust us?!" Jack bellowed. "What do you doout so late all the time?!"
"What does it even matter?! It's not like it'll make any difference! All you guys care about is ghost hunting!" The halfa replied, stomping his foot.
"Now what does that have to do with anything?!" His father countered.
He took a step forward, bringing him inches away from his father's face. "Well, maybe if you two stopped being so obsessed with your work then you would've figured this out ages ago and we wouldn't be having this conversation!!"
"QUIET!!" Maddie screamed, a hand on each of their shoulders. "Okay. Since it's clear that you—" She poked Danny. "—aren't going to say anything anytime soon, you're grounded until you do, and that's final." She and her husband turned to leave, each picking up their own bazookas on the way out.
With her hand on the doorknob, Maddie turned back to face Danny. "Also, if you are not in bed or up in your room doing your homework by the time we get back, young man, there's going to be hell to pay!" With that, they both left, slamming the front door behind them.
Danny collapsed back onto the couch, face in hands. Another night of his parents furious at him, and another night of hating himself for not being able to sum up the courage to tell them about his ghost powers. He sighed again, deciding to take his sulking upstairs. At least he could try to listen to his parents and be up in his room. Not like I would get any homework done anyway at the moment...
The young halfa sighed for the fourth time that evening, having reached his bedroom. There was no way he would get any amount of schoolwork done, but he couldn't just go to sleep either. No, he was far too restless.
And besides, he still needed to finish patrolling...
I guess it wouldn't hurt to go for a flight... I'll keep an eye on mom and dad; make sure they won't get home before I do. I need some time to think.
With that, he turned into his ghostly alter-ego and phased through his ceiling.
Breathing in the crisp, clear night air, the half-ghost teen soon began to do turns and flips midair, losing himself in the sheer joy of flying. Wind blew hair into his face, too short to block his vision. The full moon cast deep shadows onto the cityscape below, rivaling the bright light of day. A few stars shined dimly in the sky, despite the light pollution. Silvery, wispy clouds floated high up in the atmosphere, casting a tiny film of shadows in some places.
Soon, the apartment buildings and stores melted away into a vast expanse of forest: Amity Park. A large stream cut strait through the middle, the only way across a small stone-arched bridge.
Danny chose to land there, and was soon leaning over the low masonry walls, gazing down at the swirls of water flowing by underneath. The moon was a silver disk, reflected perfectly in the gently flowing creak.
As if by some unknown cue, four soft cords from a harp suddenly resounded through the air, causing a wave of sadness to caress through the halfa standing there. In response to the silence that followed, he began to sing softly:
Proud of your boy.
I'll make you proud of your boy.
Believe me, bad as I've been, Mom,
You're in for a pleasant surprise.
The words just came to him. He didn't know from where, or why. They were just...there. Danny continued singing, this time a little louder:
I've wasted time.
I've wasted me.
So say I'm slow for my age, a late bloomer,
Okay I agree!
Unbenounced to him, Maddie had been tracking Phantom's movements ever since she had spotted him up in the sky, and was discreetly listening from the cover of the nearby foliage.
That I've been one rotten kid.
Some son, some pride, and some joy.
But I'll get over these louse it up,
Mess it up, screw it up times!
Danny had broken away from the edge and was now singing to the sky, tears forming in his eyes.
You see Mom, now, comes the better part.
Someone's gonna make good, cross his stupid heart.
Make good and finally make you,
Proud of your boy.
Maddie wondered for a brief moment if he really did have a mother somewhere. And, if so, who was she? But, her ghost hunting side kicked in, telling her to shoot him while he was distracted. However...Something held her back. It just didn't seem right, somehow. She finally decided to stay put and keep listening.
Tell me that I've been a louse and a loafer.
You won't get a fight, here, no ma'am.
Say I'm a goldbrick, a goof-off, no good,
But that couldn't be all that I am.
He tore his eyes away from the sky and stared down into the stream, completely transfixed by the liquid silver.
Water flows under the bridge,
Let it pass, let it go.
Danny slowly picked up a smooth pebble from the ground and tossed it into the water, watching as it skipped neatly across the surface. After four jumps, it landed in the creek with a small plunk. He continued to sing into the night, half-oblivious to his spectator.
There's no good reason that you should believe me, not yet.
I know, but
Some day and soon
I'll make you proud of your boy.
Though I can't make myself taller,
Or smarter, or handsome, or wise.
Maddie could only stare, fascinated. This was Phantom, her enemy. He's supposed to be an evil, heartless, and conniving ghost. And yet... his words held so much emotion... By now, the middle-aged ghost hunter didn't know what to think anymore.
I'll do my best, what else can I do?
Since I wasn't born perfect like Jazz or you.
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did her enemy just mention the name of her oldest daughter? But, then again...Jasmine is a pretty common name, after all... Maybe it's someone else he's talking about... For a second, she tore her eyes off her half-ghost son and reached for an ecto-gun. I don't care who he's talking about! I'm ending this, here and now!
However, when she next looked up, she was nearly blinded by a bright flash of blue light. Standing there, in the exact place Phantom had stood seconds before, was her own son. He turned his head straight in her direction, seeing her form even through the dense undergrowth. A tear slid down his face, leaving a clean, wet trail down his cheek.
Mom, I will try to,
Try hard to make you,
Proud of your boy.
Now was the time. Danny was ready to tell his parents. He slowly made his way over to his stunned mother, mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead.
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Well, there you go. In case any of you recognized the composer's name, but not the song title, allow me to explain: In the original storyboard format of Aladdin, Aladdin had been just a little kid, and he had a mother. Hence, the song. Unfortunately, the producers looked over the storyboard on a day known to the animators as Black Friday, and they said they didn't like it. So, basically, they had to redo the entire movie into the storyline known today. Which also included the loss of the song, unfortunately.
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