Hi! I'm back! Thanks to all who've read and reviewed my previous stories, and to those who haven't yet, please do! I'd love some more feedback! This is just a poetry thing, so no real fights or distinct plots.

Disclaimer: Butch Hartman owns DP.

If you wish your life to be protected, you must protect the lives of others...

Danny phased into his bedroom, stumbling as he motioned towards his bed. He lay down, mulling over all that had just transpired and absorbing all his injuries. He had bruises everywhere, a limp on his right leg and a big, bitter gash under his lip. But the wounds were nothing compared to his state of mind. After all, a weary body, especially a half-ghost body, healed quickly enough. But a weary mind and soul were far more difficult to repair.

"They're getting smarter," he muttered hoarsely, closing his eyes, "stronger too."

He'd been down in the dumps before, but not like this. He was contemplating all of it, all of his second life or afterlife, but who can keep that all straight and stay sane about it? Every day, every week was becoming a haunting replay of the one before it. A ghost shows up, they fight, he barely wins, sucks them back to the Ghost Zone and then it goes on again the next day. Again and again...and again.

The battle never ends

The evil never stops

One of these days they'll get me

And then my ball will drop

And the infuriating part was that there was no way to stop it. He could destroy his parents' Ghost Portal, but that wouldn't do anything but make it worse for him. There were dozens, if not hundreds of ways for the ghosts to come back to the human world, not to mention Vlad's portal, and since old age was hardly a factor for a ghost, it would go on forever.

At this epiphany, Danny's bloodshot eyes shot open. They were unlimited in their time, but what about him? He could only fight them for so long before his own mortality caught up with him. Then what would he do? Pass it on to his children and put them in danger? No. He'd never be able to live with forcing that kind of task onto an innocent. His transformation was a forgivable accident, and if any half-ghosts were formed after him, it would be from an accident, too.

My brain is racked from pondering

When the time comes, what will I do?

There must be one to stop the darkness

One to save both old and youths

But what would happen when he did die? Would he rest in peace with the knowledge that he'd saved countless lives? Or would he become a pure ghost and continue his crusade until the city was truly safe? Did he even have the power that decision? When he came to his judgment, would he have the choice to go between peace and justice?

Justice. That was what he fought for, wasn't it? At first, it had been a kind of hobby, something that set him apart from any other teenager. Heck, it set him apart from every other human, save one. And he couldn't deny that he'd used his powers for vengeance or relief before. Whether against Dash Baxter, or the Box Ghost or just some poor, otherworldly sap that was at the wrong place at the wrong time, he'd had his share of revenge fights. But now, he realized that when he heard someone cry out for help it was like a fire alarm in his head, "I gotta help them!" It just came so naturally now that he didn't even think about it. So far he'd been lucky. No innocent person had lost their life when he had been on patrol, but what about the battles to come? What if the ghosts got wise and started taking hostages to have him walk right into their hands?

Their cries are like a screech to me

Their lives are always at risk

With enemies who no longer care

How am I to resist?

He would never let that happen. He had to ensure the people's safety and make sure that no ghosts got to them. But how? He had seen a world where he had all but eradicated his ghostly enemies and that only made them stronger, smarter and even more vengeful.

"So what do I do?" Danny whispered to himself. "Be friendly to them?"

That'd never work. His enemies were too bitter and obsessed to ever give up their jilted causes and goals. Some wanted power like Ember or Technus; some wanted superiority like Skulker; some wanted to make up for what they'd lost like Spectra, Bertrand and Desiree.

And Vlad? He was no challenge to figure out. He claimed to love Maddie, his mother, but in reality, Vlad only loved himself. Danny supposed that to a certain extent Vlad did care for her, but it was more the matter of not having her that plagued Vlad, having lost him to Danny's bumbling father, Jack Fenton. But it didn't stop at Maddie's unreturned love; Vlad heard of Pariah Dark's power, he had to have it. Danny had his friends who helped him in his fights; Vlad had to have them too. Both Valerie Grey and the Fright Knight were his loyal soldiers, though Valerie knew only half of who her mentor truly was. And Danny couldn't prove it, but he was sure that Vlad had some hand in Valerie's loss of high school status.

What is it that drives these dead ones?

What horrors could they have had?

To bring about the pain and fear

That makes their victims feel so bad

That was the really disturbing thing about Danny's opponents: Almost all of them had been human once, too. Mind you, some had surely been equally big creeps in their lifetimes like Johnny 13 or Technus. It was extremely hard for Danny to imagine those two with any other mannerisms than cocky, rude and self-absorbed. But he knew some had had horrible lives and were trying to turn things around. Desiree had had her dreams squashed for doing nothing wrong, and Poindexter had been bullied and abused most of his life. As much trouble as they'd caused him, he couldn't help but pity them. How can a life be so bad that you try to make up for it in the afterlife? It was depressing, but he knew it was possible. And there were others, of course, that he knew next to nothing about, besides there current status. But it's not like he could ask them. He should think that most of them, especially power-hungry ones like Ember or Technus, probably have lives that they just want to leave behind and forget.

The faded shades of those once alive

Their eyes now dark and dull

Is there any humanity left in them?

Or of malice are they full?

Before he could puzzle anymore, a light blue mist escaped his lips, alerting him to another fight. Even in his current condition, ignoring it was out of the question. He jumped off his bed, and forced two shimmering white halos to surround his waist and spread out, engulfing his entire being in ectoplasm. His trademark DP'd jumpsuit appeared, as well as his glowing green eyes and snowy white hair.

He looked at his hands absently, mulling over what he should do. Beating them even worse wouldn't work; trying to befriend them wouldn't work. Then his eyes perked up at an idea. It was risky, and it could come back to bite him, but if even a few ghosts actually thought about what he was going to do, then maybe it could be worth it.

"Let's try a compromise," Danny whispered to himself, and flew off to protect his city.

A bruise upon a villain

Can result in all-out war

But a show of mercy upon them

Can open all new doors

Ember had been no real challenge. Danny's mood had risen into a surprisingly good one, and even with Ember's snide comments about his scrapes, he managed to stay focused and succeed in stopping her. She was now lying on the ground before him, tired and humiliated. Her guitar rested in Danny's hands and with it a substantial amount of her power. She waited for him to take out his Thermos and suck her inside, just like every other time, but this time he just stood there looking at her.

"Well, aren't you gonna end this? Or would ya just like to rub it in?" she inquired scornfully.

"Neither," he said, and held out his hand to help her up. She looked at it like he was holding out an alien weapon, before eventually accepting it. He lifted her up and passed her the guitar back. "If you wanna get outta here before my parents show up then you better leave now."

The former pop star just gawked at him.

"You're kidding, right? You're just gonna let me go?"

"Right," Danny answered.

"Even though you know that I'm probably gonna be wreaking havoc in like a couple hours?"

"Yeah, I know," he said, turning his back and ready to fly off.

"So what's the catch?" she asked.

He halted his ascent and turned back to her. "Only one catch."

"Uh huh," she grunted, being prepared for that response.

"Whatever you stayed behind for after you died, have you gotten it yet?" he questioned.

Ember just looked at him dumbfounded. Not insulted or angry, rather surprised. That had been the last thing she had expected him to ask of her.

"When you decide on your answer, tell me; I wanna know." And with that, Danny flew off, leaving an Ember McLain behind that was so stunned that she almost didn't get away in time to avoid the Fentons.

It's amazing how many shades of gray

You'll find in any town

Maybe one day we'll fight as one

If they ever come around...

Not to toot my own horn, but I think I did pretty well with this. Maybe I should just write poetry stories instead; they're so much easier for me to write, and since each chapter would be a different story, I wouldn't have to worry about incongruenties. Anyway, hope you liked! I loved writing this! If I do write another poem, it'll be called "Walk the Line." BUM-BUM-BAW!