Summary: He's always been told that ghosts don't remember their previous lives, but he never thought it would affect him. Suddenly, Vlad's all-consuming obsession with his Accident makes a lot more sense.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

~ Amnesiac ~

"It started with small things," Danny admitted. "A phone number, an address, the name of a neighbor. Then it got worse. The day I met Tucker. My eighth birthday party. A camping trip with mom. The worst part is I don't realize what I've forgotten until some says something."

He looked up to meet Vlad's sorrowful stare and felt his fingers tighten reflexively on the wrinkled paper in his hand. He remembered writing this list, but he didn't remember anything on it. Idly, he wondered what he'd never gotten the chance to write down.

For now, the arch-enemies were sitting in one of the spacious and elaborate living rooms of Vlad's manor. Danny had called a truce for today and, once he realized what it was about, Vlad had agreed without argument.

A slightly bitter smile twisted his lips. "I can still remember a few things, but they're faded. Sometimes I'll get an image of something I've already forgotten, but the next moment I've forgotten it too."

The scrawling list had gotten sparser and sparser as it went on. The top of the page held details about the events written on it. The bottom spoke of only rough outlines. Rudimentary sketches. Danny allowed Vlad to gently pry the list from his grip. The elder halfa attempted and failed to smooth some of the wrinkles from the page, as though doing so would prevent the younger from experiencing what he already had.

"How much do you remember?"

The question was asked with a hint of desperation. Longing. He didn't want to forget.

Vlad sighed regretfully, a strange break from his usually held-together persona. "After my accident, I remember everything. Before… nothing. It's all a very vague idea; pieces that I held close while experiencing my own change."

He handed Danny his list back and lifted a plain brown journal from the table. It was faded with age and bore the weathered look of something that had been read many times. Danny accepted the offering and flipped quietly through it. A few of the pages were bent at the corners, but it had obviously been well-cared for.

"In this regard," Vlad continued with weight that made him seem as old as Clockwork, "I am luckier than you. Yours has arrived delayed and suddenly. What took you a mere month to lose, took me years. I had the fortune of being able to write down as much as I could still remember while I still recalled most of my life. You, however…" He trailed off with a glance at Danny's sheet of paper. The journal was filled front to back, marked with many notes in small handwriting, and started from childhood to continue all the way to college years. The difference was painfully obvious.

Danny returned the journal without a word and found himself staring at the floor, his arms crossed uselessly over his knees. There was a burning sensation in his throat and eyes, and he belatedly realized he was about to cry. He blinked stubbornly, refusing to allow the tears to fall. He'd get through this. He had to.

Even if he was slowly forgetting fourteen years of his life. His family. His friends. His Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. His birthday parties and summer vacations. His Thanksgivings and Christmases. His classes and teachers. The names of his friends and classmates. Every day of Dash's bullying. Why he was dealing with Dash's bullying. His old hopes and dreams. The day he earned his Junior Astronaut badge. The fishing trips with dad. The camping trips with mom. The arguments with Jazz.

One day, his very first memory would be the pain of the portal accident.

"You'll be able to remember everything after the accident," the elder halfa was saying a bit wistfully. "Sometimes recalling it will give you sensations of thoughts and feelings you once had."

Danny flinched. He didn't want to recall that day. Not now. Not ever. Vlad caught the movement and fell silent. The somber air stretched between them. Vlad had admitted he'd always hoped that this had passed Danny by; thought it had, when there were no signs of it early on. Danny had revealed that it had been harder for him to memorize things than usual after the accident, but it had gotten easier now.

"What else will I forget?" He needed to know. Needed to compensate.

Vlad was quiet for a moment. "I think you should arrange to spend the summer with me."

The sixteen-year-old looked up with eyes far too haunted for his age. "What else will I forget?" He repeated quietly.

"You will need to relearn a lot." Vlad said after a moment. "Basic things. English. Grammar. Math. Science. Etiquette. How to read. Standard safety, like how to cross the road and where. Names of things. Trees, cars, houses. How to turn a light on and off. Your powers will remain untouched, and you'll recall everything very quickly, but…"

Danny gritted his teeth. It was a foreign feeling. Two years of being at the top and bottom of the world. Two years of being Amity Park's protector. Two years of growing up too fast. Two years of being there for everyone else. Two years of being untouchable.

Helpless.

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

"Don't!" The teen tried to snap, but the word lacked bite. He couldn't even be angry, despite the turmoil spinning in his head. "Don't," he echoed. His voice hiccuped. The corners of his eyes burned. The back of his hand tingled with cool drops. "It's not your fault."

The couch next to him dipped and a single, comforting hand touched his shoulder. For once, Danny leaned into the contact. Somewhere in the black-and-white world of his younger fourteen-year-old self, he realized that it was his arch-enemy who he had turned to for help; who was sharing his sorrow.

It's not your fault.

It was no one's fault. Not his. Not Vlad's. Not Sam's. Not Tucker's. Not his dad's. Not his mom's. Not even the portal's.

It was just the cost of his powers, finally come to rear its head.

Amnesia.