A/N: So because I'm really horrible at writing long-term chaptered stories, I often just resort to doing one-shots, or prompts that people ask me to write, because I feel like I'm a good writer, even if I don't have the focus to write a multichaptered story. So I mean, kudos to all of you other writers out there for being able to do that haha.

So anyway, this is gonna be my collection of one-shots, and prompt stories and things like that that I upload onto my Tumblr page. So let's get this on a roll :D

Starting off with one I came up with; The aftermath of the Ultimate Enemy where Danny is too late to save his family and friends.

He felt empty.

It had to have just been a really really bad dream. A horrific nightmare that soon he'll wake up from, and everything would be okay again. Just a nightmare like the one that kept reoccurring since he had died in the ghost portal that one fateful day. He would wake up from it, panic a little bit at the rush of emotions he felt, calm down, and everything would be okay again.

Except he couldn't wake up.

The screams for help, the loudest boom he'd ever heard in his life, the fire, the blood, the burns; they were all real, and he just couldn't come to terms with it. It couldn't have happened, it wasn't fair. It wasn't the way things were suppose to go.

But it had.

He saw it with his own two eyes, watching at the distance as he rushed to get to them on time and save them. He saw the Nasty Burger hot sauce container start to expand, heating up, with his friends and family and even Mr. Lancer attached to it with bonds they couldn't break free of. He had to save them, they were people he loved, they didn't deserve this fate, they didn't deserve to die. He had to save them.

It was too late.

The boom was the first thing that registered in his mind, earsplitting with his closeness to it, making his ears ring. The explosion threw him back, and he landed on the ground roughly, as Nasty sauce covered it around him and on him, burning his skin. When he came to, regaining his bearings, everything was gone. The whole restaurant was gone, burst into flames and nasty sauce. His parents, his friends, Mr. Lancer; they were all gone. There was blood, he could see that no doubt came from them, but their remains were mostly incinerated at this point.

They were gone.

They were gone. He couldn't reach them in time, he couldn't save them, and now he was all that remained. He was alone. So alone. It couldn't have been real. It just couldn't have. He couldn't have just witnessed what brought the end to all his loved ones, leaving him all alone. He could feel the emptiness swell up inside him, the loss, the regret, the hurt, as he took in what he couldn't believe had just happened before him.

Yet, he couldn't cry.

It was all his fault this had happened. It was his own fault he witnessed the deaths of his loved ones. It was all his fault he couldn't get there fast enough to save him. As much as it hurt him, as much as he wanted to believe everything would be okay and he'd wake up, he couldn't bring himself to cry. The tears just wouldn't form as much as he wanted them to. The pain in his chest, in his heart, was nearing unbearable.

He was so young.

It wasn't fair this had happened. He was still a young child, a teenager that hadn't even finished his first year of highschool yet. How would he ever get through the rest of school knowing Mr. Lancer was gone; the one teacher who always gave him grief about his tardys, and knowing that he was the reason that teacher was gone. How would he get through highschool alone, without his two best friends by his side anymore, who were always there backing him up in tough situations and just being the best friends they could be. He hardly deserved friends anymore after what he'd done to them. How would he ever find any other place to call home? His home meant having an annoying older sister who liked to bother him and psychoanalyze him. His home meant having crazy ghost hunting parents that he'd barely see because they would always be busy tinkering with their newest gadgets, or blathering on about ghosts to him.

He didn't have a home anymore.

What was he suppose to do? Everything was gone. Everyone was gone. He walked through the ruins of the Nasty Burger slowly, feeling the heat and fire lick at anything and everything around him. It wasn't a dream, this was real. He couldn't wake up from what he wished was a bad nightmare. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest where his heart was. He wanted to tear it out. It was causing him so much pain, so much emptiness, all because he was too late, and now they were gone. He choked out a sob.

And he finally cried.

A/N: And I cried too because I'm a wimp who cries at my own stories I write lol