Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

Ch.1

Pain.

All I felt was pain. It was so excruciating, it was as if every fiber of my being was on fire. I couldn't think of anything except for the agony that I was being forced to suffer. How long I was objected to it is a mystery to me. Seconds, minutes, hours...there was no way to tell. To me, it felt like an eternity before everything went dark.


When I woke up, the first thing I became aware of was the terrible ache in every muscle. I groaned before trying to sit up. "Easy there, Max," a familiar voice said. Strong hands gently pushed my shoulders back down. Turning my head slightly, I was able to make out the tired face of my father as he watched me with concern. "Dad?" I asked, my voice croaking. "You're in the hospital, Max. You're safe," he assured, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. At least that didn't hurt me. With a grimace, I got a glance at the heart monitor I was hooked up to, along with some other machines. Raising the hand he held up as much as I could without being in too much pain, I examined the IV stuck in my hand. My first thought was to pull it out, but before I could muster up the strength my dad pulled it back down and patted my arm. "It's to help you, Max. Please, try and relax. I know you don't like it but you have to deal with it anyways," he reminded me gently. As much as I hated the fact that he was right, it would be useless to deny it. Still, it didn't make me any less uncomfortable with the thing under my skin.

After a few moments, a nurse came into the room. She smiled at me, pleased that I was awake. She checked my vital signs before leaving, assuring us that the doctor would be back in a minute. My father and I remained quiet, though I could tell that he was simply dying to ask me questions. He held back for my sake, not wanting to overwhelm me, and for that I was grateful.

The door opened and the doctor entered. He was an older fellow, his gray hair and various wrinkles making that much obvious. "Hello, I'm Doctor Hartmond. It's good to see you awake, Maximum," he said to me, giving me a warm smile. "Max is fine," I managed, doing my best to return the smile though chances were it would look more like a grimace. Dr. Hartmond nodded before coming to the side of my bed and giving the heart monitor and such a look. "You've had quite a shock, haven't you?" he mused, turning slightly to look down at me with warm brown eyes. "I have to say, you're an extraordinarily tough girl for fifteen years old." He took one last look at the clipboard before tucking it under one arm.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked. I opened my mouth to answer, but then stopped. Do I? All that I could be sure of was that whatever had happened had hurt a ton. Frowning, I shook my head slightly. "I remember...a flash of some sort? Some kind of weird light, and then pain. Lots of it," I recounted. The aching seemed to intensify slightly at the subject. A quick glance at my dad showed that he was frowning, too. His frown was out of concern and worry, though. I honestly felt bad that he had to see me like this. He worried enough about me as it was.

Dr. Hartmond nodded along with my description, pursing his lips slightly as he figured out what must have happened. "Sounds like you had a bad encounter with some lightning," he said. Lightning? Really? Funny, it hadn't been raining or anything, and I hadn't noticed clouds in the sky. Then again, it had been night, and we did get a lot of heat lightning. "Will I be alright?" I asked him. He was quick to nod as he clasped his hands together. "Yes, you should be fine. All of your vital signs are normal and there doesn't seem to be any damage to your internal organs," he said with a smile. I let out a sigh of relief at the same time as my dad. "When do you think it'll be okay for me to take her home?" my dad asked. Ah, good question, Dad. "I'll get the paperwork to have her discharged. She's going to need some painkillers as well," the doctor said, looking rather cheerful. Painkillers sounded awful nice to me right then. Dr. Hartmond left for the paperwork and then I closed my eyes for a bit. I must've dozed off because the next thing I knew, Dad was gently shaking my shoulder to wake me up. He had the paperwork in his hands as well as my old clothes. I was also relieved to find that there was nothing connected to me anymore. Getting out of bed was a lot more difficult than I'd ever admit, but I eventually managed to get to the bathroom and get changed out of the hospital gown. The nurse from before had a wheelchair for me, and she rolled me to the front desk so that Dad could turn in the paperwork. From that point on, he took over. Sitting there like a lump made me feel silly, but I figured that if I had tried walking to whole way I probably would've collapsed. As it were, the walk to the car alone made me feel exhausted.

The ride home felt long, especially since my dad found that it was a good place to begin his lecture. In a way, he was right. It wasn't like I could run away or anything. The whole thing was pretty predictable. How could I? Didn't I know how dangerous walking around at night was? I was just lucky that it wasn't some rapist instead! I should know better than to walk around while lightning was so close! Honestly, it really only put me down. I hated making Dad worry so much. Also, I could have sworn that was no lightning around when I went out! But, I kept my mouth closed. Dad was only worried, and had probably been scared as well. If our places had been switched, I'd be acting pretty similar to the way he was now.

By the time we got home, he seemed to have lectured himself out. Thank gods for that. We had taken a detour to pick up the prescription for the painkillers, and so I took some before sitting gingerly down onto the old couch in our living room. I relaxed back for a moment, waiting for the pills to kick in before I noticed something. Dad had brought out some old moving boxes and had apparently been putting things in them earlier. "Hey Dad, what's with the boxes?" I called out to him, glad my voice was working better than before. He walked out of our small kitchen and looked at the boxes before turning to me with a suddenly cheery expression. "I forgot to tell you! While you were out last night, I got a call from a friend of mine and got offered a really good job!" he explained. "Whoa, awesome!" I said, genuinely excited. My dad had been looking for a suitable job for ages now. He hated the boring office he worked for and always talked about getting to do something he loved. "So where is it? Somewhere on the Strip?" I asked curiously, wondering if he was going to find us a new apartment closer to this new job.

Dad ran a hand through his thin salt-and-pepper hair, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Dad?" I asked, feeling uneasy with his silence. "It's not on the Strip," he said at last.

"It's in Amity Park."