In which I attempt to prove I am a horrible person by turning the first part of a running joke between me and LoveWritingStories into a two-shot. You see people; this is why we shouldn't be allowed to do things.
Warning: Language and death. Basically the same things you would see in most movies.
/Throws Phantom Planet out a window/ it threw off my groove.
…I literally have not seen that movie since I was a little kid. Why did I reference it?
Minus One
Tucker sat in his living room, playing a very intense game of some Flappy Bird knock off on his phone. The news was playing on the TV, and the next room over his mom would be preparing dinner. It was just a normal Saturday, and aside from the fact that Sam and Danny hadn't been able to hang out, nothing was out of the ordinary. And not just by Amity Park standards, either- the town could've passed for being a normal, not ghost infested town since last Thursday.
That should've raised a few red flags. The ghosts not attacking for over a week? Unnatural. There hadn't even been any ecto blobs. And Danny had been oddly calm throughout the whole week. If Tucker didn't know better, he'd think that the past week had been some sort of ghost holiday.
Tucker pushed the thoughts from his head, going back to his game. Maybe Danny's parents were playing with their portal or something. But for the moment, it was none of his concern.
A voice on his TV distracted him, and Tucker hit his fist on the couch as his character hit a pipe just before he could beat his high score. He looked up at the TV, irrationally angry, but that only lasted for a second as once again he heard the words which had caught his attention; 'ghost attack'.
Attack looked like an understatement. The sky around Amity's downtown swarmed with ghosts, and Tucker swallowed the lump in his throat. Invasion seemed to fit much better.
Cursing under his breath, Tucker moved his thumbs to text an alert to Danny and Sam. A quick message from Danny cut him off before he could send it. 'On it.'
Tucker raised an eyebrow before looking back at the TV. What, are you psychic now? The teasing comment popped into his mind, and despite the situation Tucker found himself holding in laughter. I am so using that one next time I get the chance!
The news crews had spotted Danny now. Tucker quickly stood up and moved to grab his coat. He nearly forgot his weapon, and had to put off leaving for a few minutes to grab it from his room. When he re-entered the living room, his mom was watching the TV. The ghosts had surrounded Danny and- wait. They were talking to him.
Why would they be talking to him?
"Give up this foolish hero game, Phantom." Skulker was saying, and Tucker was confused for a second. Either the news crew had a new and powerful microphone, or Skulker was speaking louder than he needed to. "Return to the Ghost Zone with us, and be where you belong."
"Okay, one," Danny said, his voice as clear as Skulker's had been. "It's not a game. Two, it wouldn't even be necessary if you guys could just leave the human realm alone. Three, I don't belong there. And I'd probably be murdered if I ever tried to live there."
"You are still a child," Skulker added on, speaking in what would almost be a fatherly tone. Tucker blinked twice, trying to compare this ghost to the one who was always trying to murder his best friend. "Your form is still weak. You cannot make these decisions for yourself just because the customs wronged you. Ghostwriter will look after you, that much has been decided. Just... Come with us, Phantom. You should not be left alone where you can be hurt by spirits less kind than us." He held out a hand.
Tucker snorted, "Bull shit." His mom shot him an unamused look before shaking her head, turning back towards the TV.
Danny floated back slightly, reaching for the thermos. "You guys are horrible actors. You do realize that, right?" His voice was almost quieter, though it grew as he aimed the thermos at Skulker, "Oh sure, like I'm going to trust a ghost who hunted me!"
It was Ember who replied to that, knocking the thermos out of Danny's hands. The Box Ghost and Lunch Lady grabbed Danny's hands, holding him in place. Tucker stayed where he was, fear keeping his feet rooted to the ground. What are you doing, you moron?! Your best friend is in danger! Help him!
"If you will not go willingly," Skulker appeared to be cracking his knuckles, despite them being made of metal. "Then we have no choice but to subdue you by force!"
"No, wait!" Danny shouted, and the ghosts swarmed him.
Tucker stayed frozen, watching the mob of ghosts in horror. He could hear Danny's screams echoing, and Tucker was almost positive that the sound of it would haunt him for years to come.
He almost fell on the couch as a thought entered his mind, and he began to shout it. "Your ghostly wail! Use your ghostly wail, damn you! Get out of there! Damn you, Danny, get out of there!"
As if Danny had heard him, the hybrids most powerful attack erupted out of the mound. A few ghosts got out of the way, but numerous... Were those duplicates? Whatever they were, they'd popped from existence and were probably ectoplasm puddles now.
Vlad's ghost form suddenly rushed in, fighting to get to Danny. He was screaming parts of sentences which Tucker never caught the full thing of, and a lot of it seemed to be in another language. A few ghosts broke away to hold him back, and the ghostly wail died off. Tucker noted that it had lasted two minutes; the longest Danny had ever used that power. Something seemed to be falling from the mound of ghosts, and after a second Tucker realized it was ectoplasm. It took the shape of a human for a split second. A loud scream echoed through the air before it melted into a puddle, and then the Fenton RV arrived and drove through it.
No.
The ghosts stopped fighting, and the mound moved into a few groups and lines. Danny, however, was nowhere to be seen.
No...
"Daniel!" Vlad shouted, and the ghosts who had been holding him back quickly flew away. "No, no. No!"
Please no...
"Well," Skulker spoke up, "That worked out quite nicely." The ghosts darted off in separate directions. Vlad shot after them, shouting things in what had to be another language, or at least a very thick accent.
Please god, please, please no...
"Danny Phantom... Is... He's..." The reporter's voice wouldn't cooperate, and his camera man finished for him.
"Dead." The camera zoomed in on the puddle which had once been Amity Park's hero. "...Ghosts can die?"
"No," Tucker whispered, "No. God no, please... Please no... Danny no!" Not you. Not him. Not Danny. Not Danny!
"Tucker?" He barely heard his mother's question. "What's wrong? Is it...?"
"Danny's dead." He said the words, but they didn't register in his mind. "Danny's dead. Danny's... Dead. No. No, he can't, he... He... Please no..."
Danny's dead.
Oh my god, he's dead.
.-.-.-.-.-.
If Sam had to watch one more damned kid's show she was going to stab her cousins with a fork.
"Go die in a hole, Thomas." She muttered, "Nobody loves you." And this is why I don't babysit my cousins. Little twerps.
"Sammy, be nice to the train!" Albert, the five-year-old, piped up.
"He's a train. He doesn't have feelings. And what have I said about calling me Sammy?"
"Yes he does!" Harrison, the youngest at three, added on. "You made Thomas sad!"
In reply, the train went off the tracks.
"The older version was better," Sam grumbled, slouching. "This new crap sucks."
"I agree with Sammy," Jason, the final and oldest child at seven, copied her motions. "Let's watch something less dumb."
"It's Sam!" She groaned, and across the room her phone started ringing. "Oh hey, miracles are a thing. See ya, squirts. Enjoy the train."
She grabbed the device, rushing out of the room. "Hey Tuck, your timing is perfect. How do I get annoying little boys to stop watching their dumb train show?"
"S-Sam..." Tucker's voice shook, and it sounded almost like he had been crying. "Sam, oh my god, you... Oh my god..."
"I what?" Her gut twisted, and dread rose up in her throat. "Tucker, deep breaths. What happened? What's going on? Are you okay...?"
"Danny..." He was actually crying now, and the dread crushed Sam's chest. No.
"What about him? Tucker, what the hell is going on? Tucker!"
For a few long moments there was nothing on the other end but muffled sobs, and then a female voice took over. Sam recognized it as Tucker's mom. "There was a ghost attack. Danny Phantom is... Well, ghost-dead. Apparently that's thing."
Time seemed to freeze, and Sam didn't register when the phone went back to Tucker. He was trying to explain it, but Sam wasn't listening. What? No. No, he's not dead. Danny's not- no. He's not. He... No... "Tucker, this isn't funny. He... He can't... No..."
"He's dead... He's..."
"No!" She rushed back into the main room, stealing the remote from her cousins and switching to the local news. She ignored their sounds of protest, staring at the screen.
It said they were covering a massive ghost attack, and... And Danny had died.
"Sammy?" Jason asked, poking her side. "Sam? Samantha? Sam-Sam? Are you okay...?"
"No," Sam whispered, "God no."
Danny's dead. He can't... He can't be! He wouldn't leave us like this! He... Danny, no!
.-.-.-.-.-.
Jazz sat on Danny's bedroom floor, his blanket wrapped around her. She stared at her phone, and the last text her brother had ever sent.
He'd said he was just going for a walk. She knew things were tough right now, but... They were doing this for his own good! Even if he didn't know it, they were just trying to help!
But that didn't matter anymore. Because now she didn't have a brother. The ghosts... They'd...
Danny had always insisted he could take care of himself. Jazz had always rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair in reply. She would give anything- she would give everything- just to have him groan in annoyance and push her away. Just one more time. Only once, just one more awkward hug from her brother, just one more annoyed groan of her name, just one... That's all she asked... Just one more minute with her baby brother…
Her phone rang, and Jazz fought through the dryness in the back of her throat to answer it. "Mom..." Your son is dead. Danny's dead.
"I'm coming to get you in a little bit, okay?" Maddie seemed calm, even annoyed almost. "We're going to the hospital."
What? "W-why?"
Maddie sighed, "Because your brother is d-" The line cut off.
"Mom?! Mom!" Jazz's voice had reached the point of a scream, and she could feel tears stream down her cheeks. "Mom, no!" No, no no no no no... Mom... Dad...
Danny...
She pulled his blanket around her, a faint memory of a younger Danny wearing it around like a cape. He'd insisted that they call him 'Captain Fenton,' and that he was a superhero.
That didn't matter anymore, because now he was dead.
Jazz tucked her head between her knees and began to sob.
.-.-.-.-.-.
The glass of vodka slammed down on the side table, and Vlad collapsed into his chair.
Daniel was dead. Gone. Destroyed. And what for? Vlad knew the customs Skulker had mentioned, and none of them included what they had done. Those had been put in place originally to protect Pariah's family, not... Not give others right to destroy those they disliked!
If only he had gotten there sooner, if only... If only he had intervened before! Daniel would still be alive.
And Vlad wouldn't be alone.
He could hear his cat scratching at the door, meowing to be let in. He ignored her; he didn't deserve her company. He didn't deserve anything.
Why would he? There was one other being like him in existence, one, one. And Vlad couldn't help him. Vlad had let him die.
He grabbed the bottle, pouring himself another shot. He hadn't normally been one for using alcohol to forget, but... This was different. He was alone again.
Alone like he'd always deserved.
Part 2 will be up whenever I finish it. With my track record that'll probably be between a month and never, but who knows? I am on spring break right now, after all.
Thoughts, anyone?