Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews on "I'm the Hero", "Deep Blue", and "Do Overs". They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Also, Yes, I am still working on "Do Overs" (4700+ hits!!!). And see my profile for a challenge I posted.

This piece is intended to be an original concept. I freely admit, however, that it was inspired by the ideas of other authors on this site. Specifically, Alex Schira, WingsOfMorphius, and Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet. If you haven't read their stories, you should. There's a lot of good stuff there. I have no intentions of plagiarizing anything they've written. But if someone thinks I'm getting perilously close to this, please let me know so I can either fix it or pull the story. I don't really have a goal or end point for this tale. Only the first couple of chapters have been written in my head and it's going to be kind of episodic from there. You'll understand why once you get to the second chapter.

And, No, I'm not telling you who the wife is. You can all guess.

Lastly, everyone DIES!!! --bwahahahahah-- You believe me, right? Right??? --grin--

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Spectre Detectors, Inc. Headquarters, Amity Park. -

They were eating breakfast when the Ecto-Exodus alert went off.

Valerie the ninth-rank black belt dropped her spoon, growling in annoyance. Tucker the technophile looked up from the newspaper, adjusting his glasses with a frown. Sam the goth nearly choked on her double-expresso mocha-latte with soy milk and Danny, seemingly plain Danny, just sighed heavily, laying down his fork and knife.

"You know what that means," Danny said, his deep blue eyes flashing momentarily neon-green.

Even at the table, he was noticeably the tallest of the foursome with a slender frame. At twenty-five, the black haired man had fulfilled the promise of his father's DNA by filling out a bit at the shoulders and topping the six-foot mark, but as tall as he was, he still hadn't gained any significant amount of fat. All his weight was in his muscles and his highly-active metabolism meant he could eat anything and not gain an ounce. It was a crying shame, Sam and Valerie had often commiserated, that they had to diet, exercise and otherwise suffer to get rid of even the slightest hint of cellulite and because of his abilities, he didn't even have to look at a treadmill.

Tucker had gained a few inches himself, in both directions, though the width measurement had more to do with his addiction to Nasty Burgers than bulking up muscle-wise. He still wore his wide-rimmed glasses and the red beret that had become his trademark, but his face has thinned over the years, a feature that had turned him from a strange-looking-geek to a rather handsome ladies' man. The funny thing was, by the time the girls realized this and started chasing him, he was no longer willing to date them. There was only one love of Tucker's life, and he didn't have room for any other.

Sam had matured into a lovely young woman, curves developing in places which had only been awkward angles when she was a teenager. Her black hair had grown out, it was now waist-length, and she had gotten as nearly as tall as Tucker before she stopped growing. Somehow, the goth phase she was supposed to have grown out of, according to her parents, had become her permanent life style. Only now, instead of being "scary goth girl", she looked elegant and mysterious festooned in black opal and hematite jewelry and wearing ankle-length skirts with long-sleeved scoop-collared shirts.

Valerie, on the other hand, had barely gained an inch since high school. Not that anyone wouldn't take the short, dark-skinned woman seriously. When she walked, she moved like a mountain lion on the prowl. She had cut her hair instead of letting it grow out, not wanting anyone to be able to grab her by it in the middle of a fight. She tended to wear more comfortable clothes on a daily basis, preferring to dress in stretch jeans, loose blouses and sneakers. High heels were, in her opinion, suicidal for someone who had to run for her life on a regular basis.

All in all, the foursome didn't appear much different from other twenty-somethings in the world. But if any outsider could see them now, at this moment, they would find appearances could be deceiving. As Danny stood up, a flash of light encircled his waist. It split into two circles, one heading up towards his torso and head, the other heading to his feet. As the circles passed, jeans, sneakers and T-shirt morphed into a black jumpsuit complete with white boots, white gloves, a white belt and a stylized white logo, a "P" within a "D". Danny's skin became a shade darker, almost bluish in tone, his hair turned solid white and his eyes brightened from deep blue to a shimmering emerald green.

"You know, I was hoping for a moment, just one day, of peace," Valerie snarled, hitting a button on a red bracelet she was wearing. A tinny grinding sound could be heard as nano-technology went into activation mode, covering her body with a sleek, red-armor body suit.

"That was your first mistake," Sam chortled as she shucked her skirt, revealing the slate grey jumpsuit she wore underneath, with the top hanging down loose. She pulled the rest of the jumpsuit on over her shirt, adjusting her necklaces to hang down outside of it.

In the meantime, Tucker whipped out his mini-comp which he had built out of parts of an old N-Gauge cell phone. "The disturbance is centered downtown, at the Doom Watch memorial. Wow! I don't think I've seen this many ghosts in… well, since Pariah Dark invaded!"

"Damn," Valerie cursed as Danny's eyes narrowed at the news.

"Is it Pariah?" Danny asked.

Tucker shook his head. "Nope. According to the system, this is a new ghost, completely unidentified. But the power level on this puppy is through the roof."

"Valerie," Danny ordered, "Warm up the Specter Speeder and the jet boards. Tucker, you're on traps. Sam, grab the weapons."

"What are you going to do?" Tucker asked as he pushed away from the table.

"Call the Box Ghost. He might know who this new ghost is. If nothing else, he'll be able to tell me if we should be worried."

Sam, Valerie and Tucker nodded without a shred of resentment for Danny's apparent bossiness. After eleven plus years of fighting ghosts, and five of those years as a team, they didn't really require orders to do what needed to be done. The foursome were a team in the truest sense of the word. While state law required officers - president, vice-president, treasurer and CEO - for the corporation they had set up, amongst themselves they agreed there was no truly designated "in-charge" person. Over time, as each of them got used to each others fighting styles, strengths and weaknesses, the team adopted a "Whoever comes up with the first idea is in charge of the mission" mindset. So, since Danny had given the orders this time, the other three merely assumed he had a plan and did as he asked without complaint.

Precious minutes passed as Valerie enabled the transportation, Sam collected a mass of weapons from tiny to large, and Tucker grabbed not only the Fenton Thermoses for containing the ghosts but various other devices for immobilizing the ghosts. Danny headed to the ghost portal, activating the beacon which would summon his one-time foe and now discrete ally. But as those minutes passed and the Box Ghost did not appear, Danny began to worry. It wasn't like the Box Ghost to miss an opportunity to add more items to his collection, especially when he knew the Spectre Detector team kept a healthy inventory of boxes, bubble wrap, and packing peanuts to pay him with for the information he provided.

And still the Ecto-Exodus alarm was ringing.

------

Danny bit his lip and closed the portal. Either he's in trouble of his own or he's too scared to come. Either is a bad sign. He sighed, turning to head back upstairs when his ghost sense went off, an ice-blue mist coming out of his mouth as he felt the temperature dip a few degrees. Combat instinct made him taste the air, searching for the specific tang which would enable him to identify if this was a ghost he had encountered before or one of the unidentified ghostly invaders.

"Daniel, we need to talk."

Figures.

The ghost who appeared floating in the air was dressed in a white suit with a dramatic black cape, gloves and boots. His black hair was swept up in to two points, a lot like horns, with red eyes and a wicked looking goatee which enhanced his devilish appearance. His skin, like every other ghost in existence except for Danny and his cloned-cousin, was blue. All-in-all, his appearance hadn't changed over the years, which didn't say much. This ghost was still one of the most powerful Danny had ever met.

And the twenty-five year old halfa (half-ghost / half-man) walked past him as if he wasn't even there.

"Did you hear me, Daniel?" Vlad Plasmius, also known as billionaire Vlad Masters in his human form, sounded insistent. Almost desperate. "I said we need to talk."

If Danny had learned one thing in the past decade, it was how to deal with the man who lusted after his mother, hated his father and wanted him as an apprentice. Vlad was a devious, nasty and self-admittedly evil halfa who had stolen, bribed and killed his way to his fortune while trying to manipulate Danny into becoming his son. After a horribly traumatic adolescence, learning how to use his ghost powers, saving Amity Park – and the world – more times than he could count and having to deal with Vlad's mind games, Danny had one day woken with the notion that if he could just find a way to ignore Vlad, that maybe the other halfa would go away.

Well, the "going away" part of the plan obviously hadn't worked, but the "ignoring" part had done wonders. When Vlad would appear with a new scheme, Danny and his three friends found subtle ways to defeat him without a direct confrontation. Actually, Val, Sam and Tucker had done most of the creative thinking that first year. Danny had spent too much time learning to control his temper and holding himself back so he wouldn't attack Vlad just on general principal. That's when Danny was able to identify Vlad's weakness, a weakness he had always known about but had never realized was a weakness that could be taken advantage of.

Vlad was a lonely man.

Oddly enough, the more Danny ignored his one-time archenemy, the more power he seemed to gain over Vlad. It wasn't a measurable kind of power like Danny's ice abilities or ecto-blasts. It was more emotional in nature. Danny became less Vlad's puppet and more Vlad's puppeteer. The boy gained control of the adversarial relationship and Vlad had to react to him instead of him reacting to Vlad.

So Danny continued silently towards the garage, his mind on the force invading Amity Park, not on the man-ghost behind him.

"Daniel… Danny, please! I wouldn't come here if it weren't important."

Danny paused. Vlad never called him by his preferred name. "I'm busy, Plasmius. In case you haven't heard the alarm, Amity Park is experiencing a ghost invasion."

"Which is precisely why I'm here."

What? That caught Danny's attention. He turned towards the older ghost for an explanation and was startled by the expression on his face. Vlad looked worried

"Vlad?"

"Don't go."

Danny blinked. That wasn't what he was expecting. "Excuse me?"

"Don't go. Stay here, with your wife, with your friends. Ignore the alarm, Danny, I'm begging you."

Pfeh, Danny thought. Figures. He must gain something out of this invasion. He phased through the ceiling and into the garage where Sam, Tucker and Valerie had finished packing and suiting up. They looked up at him expectantly, frowning simultaneously as they saw who had followed him.

"Danny, please!"

"Shove off, Vlad."

Plasmius grabbed his arm, yanking him roughly around. "You don't understand! None of this is what you think. This isn't about me. It's about you! You can't stand up to this ghost's power. She's practically a god!"

Danny snorted, phasing his arm out of Vlad's grip. "Funny thing about that statement, Vlad. Practically means almost and almost a god is still not a god."

"Yeah," Tucker added for emphasis.

Danny joined the other three, kissing his wife deeply for luck.

"Be safe out there," she said to him.

"I will if you will," he replied.

She smiled and nodded.

"Daniel…", Vlad practically screeched. "Danny, listen to me. You can't go out there."

"All systems ready!" Valerie announced as she jumped on her jet sled.

"Let's go, Phantom," Sam said.

Tucker opened the garage door from the Specter Speeder's front seat. "It's now or never, Dude."

Danny nodded grimly. "Then let's kick ectoplasm."

Vlad threw himself in the garage door opening, holding his arms out as if he alone could stop the foursome from leaving. "No," the older ghost begged. "Stay here."

It was the pleading which got to him. Danny had learned how to control his Fenton temper, but he had never completely gotten rid of it. And this pathetic display of Vlad's finally tipped him over the edge. "Why, Vlad? Why do you not want us to stop this ghost? "

"She kill you, Danny. She'll kill each and every one of you. You can't go out there."

"And how many people will this mysterious 'she' kill in the meantime? Tell me, Vlad. What's in it for you? How many lives is worth it?"

For a heartbeat, Vlad was silent. He seemed diminished, somehow, deflated. "Nothing," he whispered. "Nothing for me if you stay. But if you go…"

Danny waited impatiently, green ecto-energy building around his hands as he prepared to blast Vlad out of the way.

"…if you go… Shimmer will kill you…take you away from…everyone you've ever loved."

The glow faded from around Danny's hands as he processed the information Vlad had just given him. Shimmer, huh? He glanced over at his friends and nodded.

The enemy had a name.

Now they just had to find her weak spot.

Danny put one hand on the Specter Speeder, where Tucker and Sam were seated, grabbing Valerie's hand with the other. They launched themselves into the air, Danny turning them all intangible as they approached the ceiling. Through and out the ghost hunters went, leaving an old, heart-broken half-ghost behind.

"Daniel, no!"

Alone and left behind, Vlad Plasmius, the terror of the ghost zone, fell to his knees and cried.

---------

The battle did not go well. Shimmer's forces didn't actually seem to be trying to conquer Amity Park, they were just destroying it. They weren't even over-shadowing the populace. Valerie and Sam took off on jet sleds, blasting every target they could while Tucker laid booby trap mines with the Speeder. Danny, of course, ended up engaged in a head-to-head match against the main baddy who shifted her form as often as Bertrand was want to do.

At first, the SD team held their own, even gained some ground. But then the Specter Speeder got hit and Tucker had to bail before it exploded in a million shards of deadly shrapnel. He barely made it to the ground when he was literally mobbed by dozens of Shimmer's troops. His scream could be heard over the team comlink. Sam tried to reach him, but it was no good. An ecto-blast took out her jet sled. She hit the side of a building, shoulder first. She felt the shoulder dislocate, but held the pain at bay, not so much as whimpering until Tucker's screaming abruptly stopped with the sickening sound of a wet crunch. She jumped back to her feet, but didn't make it far. A stray ecto-blast demolished an overhead balcony, bringing its remnants crashing down upon Sam's head.

Valerie was next. The talented martial artist didn't see what happened to her friends, but she knew, the same way Sam had known when Tucker's voice was no longer heard on the comlink, which way the wind was blowing. She focused her anger and hurt into her fighting, cutting a wide swath through the ghost troops. And she almost succeeded, until, at the last minute, Val realized the ghosts had let her destroy their own in order to lead her into a trap. She hit the sled's turbo with her foot, but it was too late. Alone and surrounded, Valerie fought with every weapon she had until her suit ran out of power and unexpectedly retracted back into her bracelet. Unarmored, but not entirely defenseless, she continued to fight with her last breath as tears streamed down her face.

Danny, of course, was last.

Not because there was an order to these things. No, he was simply last because he was the most powerful one of them all. As Danny Phantom, the ghostly protector of Amity Park, he could tangle with any ghostly foe on her own level instead of depending on gadgets and armor. He knew something was wrong when Tucker screamed, but didn't have a chance to react. His hands were full with Shimmer. His foe was strong, stronger than Vlad and much stronger than Pariah, the legendary Ghost King. Nothing seemed to faze her. Shimmer took everything he had and simply shrugged it off or threw it back at him. And it hurt. She cut through his shields like they were paper māché and tossed him around like he was a rag doll. Every time she attacked, she landed a wounding blow, while his attempts to retaliate missed at least half the time.

It wasn't a fight. It was a massacre. Danny didn't stand a chance. At the end, he stood defiant, costume shredded, green ectoplasm dripping from his fatal wounds. At the end, he was still fighting.

And the citizens of Amity Park watched on national television as the SDs, their heroes, and Danny Phantom, their idol, died to protect them.

-------

Vlad didn't make it to the funeral. He didn't have time. There was someone he desperately had to find.

It didn't take him long. Desiree was always easy to locate by the sudden rush of good luck number simultaneously enjoyed by large numbers of random communities. The wish-granting ghost was enjoying herself in Hollywood, as evidenced by the obscene number of block-buster hits which had hit theatres recently. She laughed when he asked her to grant a wish.

"I don't grant wishes to ghosts."

A black ring surrounded Vlad's waist, halving and transforming him back into a rather dashing white-haired, black-suited business man. "I'm human now."

Desiree shook her finger at him. "You're still half ghost, no matter what you look like. I don't grant wishes to ghosts. Not after that last one you made. I'm not stupid, you know."

"It isn't for me. Please, Desiree. I'll give you anything you want. Just grant me one wish." He could barely hold back the tears as he pleaded with her.

"No."

And that was her final word.

Desiree was his first option, but that didn't make her his last. He searched the ghost zone high and low for any other wish-granting ghosts. The few in existence, less powerful than Desiree, avoided him.

When the other ghosts proved unhelpful, Vlad focused his search on mystical artifacts. Most of them weren't of the proper nature, and of those which were, like the Reality Gauntlet, many had been destroyed or lost so thoroughly, there was no place to start searching for them. Those that remained were so heavily guarded, by spells, creatures and the magicians who owned them, that Vlad barely survived his failed attempts to take them.

Weeks stretched into months. Months became a year. Vlad tried sorcerers, who refused to help someone they recognized as greedy and grasping as themselves. He tried spells, which failed because he was a ghost, not a magic user. He even approached a few infamous necromancers, who turned out to be shills making money off of the distraught wealthy relatives of the deceased the necromancers were pretending to raise.

Finally, with every other option exhausted, the half-ghost tried something he never thought he would. He went in search of gods.

The obvious choice was the Egyptian pantheon. But when he attempted to gain access to Field of Reeds to speak to Anubis and Osiris, he was denied access. Thoth wanted to weigh his heart against the Feather of Truth, and given all the horrible things he had done with this life, Vlad knew exactly how that would turn out. So he refused to hand it over and was consequently refused permission to enter.

He spent only a brief period of time in Asia before realizing eastern mysticism didn't have anything to help him, then continued east back to the United States to check out the possibilities of American Indian magic. He shouldn't have bothered. The European Invasion of North America had pretty much obliterated any useful knowledge that could have helped him with his quest.

Celtic lore was so muddled with modern new-age interpretations that it was pretty much useless and no matter how hard he searched, he couldn't find the Rainbow Bridge to Asgard. He knew better than to visit the Vatican, Jerusalem or Mecca. The modern god of the west and middle east wasn't known for being particularly helpful with these matters, and the African tribal gods literally chased Vlad off the continent with lightning.

Two years of searching and he had nothing to show for it. If there were any hope for him to accomplish his quest, it lay in Greece. But the Greeks weren't known for their resurrection stories. The only tale Plasmius had heard which even came close was the sordid tragedy of Orpheus. Orpheus, the first celebrity musician, who won his love's spirit from Hades' grasp with a heartbreaking song, only to lose it at the entrance to the Underworld because he made the mistake of looking back to see if the god had kept his promise.

It was a thin straw, but Vlad was willing to grasp at it. And if Hades could find and release Daniel's soul to him, Vlad would not make the mistake of distrusting the god and looking back. Orpheus's tragedy would be the half-ghost's salvation.

Or so he thought.

---------

It was the first day of autumn when he found the cave.

Nearby, a single tree was already turning its leaves into pale shades of yellow and brown, though the other trees Vlad had seen in the area were still vibrantly green. The middle-aged ghost frowned at it before he finally remembered.

"This is the day Daniel died."

He felt a lone tear course down his check at the memory, his heart just as sore as it had been when the boy, Daniel would always be "the boy" to him, had flown away with his wife and two friends. They had all died valiantly. He had seen the clips on the news. But they shouldn't have had to die. If they had just listened to him. If he had just tried harder to get through to them.

And that's when he heard the snarl.

He could feel hot breath on the back of his collar and smell the stench of brimstone coming from behind him. When he turned, he was greeted by the sight of the largest, strangest dog he had ever seen. The beast was twice as tall as he was, with three separate heads attached to one body. Acidic saliva dripped from all three jaws as one head snarled, the middle sniffed at him and the third opened its jaws.

Vlad went intangible as the third head snapped its mouth down on his arm, only to yell in pain as the teeth actually connected, ripping through both sleeve and skin.

Stupid, Plasmius, he chided himself as he loosed an ecto-blast from his eyes into the eyes of the third head. Of course he's going to be able to hurt you! Think about what you're fighting.

The other two heads howled in pain, the third loosening its grasp just enough for Vlad to pull his arm away. He knew this dog, now that he recalled his mythology. Cerberus, guardian of the Underworld's entrance, who's job was to keep anyone, especially spirits, from leaving the Underworld. Which is why he had the ability to damage Vlad in his ghost form. What Vlad didn't understand was why Cerberus was attacking him when he was trying to get in, not out.

The dog lunged at him again, one head going for Vlad's legs, the other two going for each of his arms. Vlad jumped back, forming a shield from ectoplasm. "Stupid dog, I'm not an escapee. I'm trying to gain entrance."

The dog's snake tail whipped around, burrowing through Vlad's shield and biting through his boot.

"ARGH!"

There was poison in that bite. Vlad could feel it coursing through his bloodstream. Even though he was in his ghost form right now, he was still half-human. This creature could kill his mortal side with impunity. His shield crumbled as he stumbled back in pain. As Cerberus attacked again, it suddenly occurred to Vlad why the dog was attacking.

Idiot! Fool! Cerberus doesn't just keep the spirits from getting out, he doesn't allow living mortals into the Underworld either. He must be able to sense that I'm still partially alive!

Armed with that knowledge, Vlad flew up in the air and duplicated himself twice over. With four of himself on the defense, he was able to take on the dog's three heads and snake tail. The plan was simple. Get the dog as far away from the entrance of the cave so his main self could sneak in while Cerberus was chasing his duplicates. It worked with surprising ease. The duplicates didn't last long, but then, then didn't have to. By the time the last had been chomped out of existence by Cerberus, Vlad was long gone, flying down the tunnel to Hades' domain.

-----------

The tunnel went on forever. The farther Vlad went, the heavier he felt. It was if gravity was grasping him, dragging him down. Then again, it could have been the poison in his foot or the acid in his arm wound. He could feel both of them, one like fire, the other like ice, creeping slowly through his body. His injured arm was numb, though he could feel ectoplasmic blood dripping off the tips of his fingers. His eyesight blurred as the tunnel widened and brightened, and without further warning, he hit the rocky ground, tumbling and rolling for several feet.

When his body stopped moving, Vlad lay on his back gasping. Vlad had been going since the day Daniel died. He was so obsessed with his quest, he never took the time to heal from the injuries sustained in the last two years. Unfortunately, the constraint strain was finally taking its toll on him. He was exhausted, hungry and tired. His power was completely diminished, triggering the change back to his mortal form.

The sound of crunching gravel reached Vlad's ears and he opened his eyes to see a tall, voluptuous woman even more beautiful than his lovely Maddie Fenton, Daniel's mother. This woman was dressed in a double-girded chiton of the palest green. Her long, curly hair was the color of richest gold, her skin the rich olive hue of a mediterrean beauty, and her eyes were the deep blue of the Aegean sea.

"Are you well," she asked. Her's was a voice as breathy as a spring breeze and as sweet as a swallow's song. If Vlad weren't still hung up on Daniel's mother, he would have fallen instantly head-over-heels in love with this vision.

"I…I'm fine. Thank you." He struggled to sit up.

She reached out to him, wrapping her delicate hands around his uninjured arm and helped him to his feet.

He was bleeding blood now, not ectoplasm, and vertigo hit him with a vengeance as he straightened out. When his vision finally cleared and his head stopped ringing, Vlad found the woman gently supporting his weight with a bemused expression. Behind her, flowed a dark river, the width of a football field.

"Tell me. Why does one of the living come to this place?"

He took a deep breath, fixing his suit coat as he often did when he was preparing to charm someone. "I seek an audience with Hades, Lord of the Underworld."

She took a step back from him, canting her head to the side and smiling. "It is said Lord Hades only sees those who are dead."

"I know, but I must see him. It is a matter of utmost urgency."

"Tell me," she invited.

Vlad shook his head. "No. I must speak to him and him alone." He eyed the river, trying to figure out the best way to cross. Flying wasn't an option now and while the river looked slow enough to swim across, he vaguely remembered there was supposed to be something dangerous about attempting that particular feat.

"Do not swim," she advised, as if reading his mind. "You will never reach the other side. Those who swim are forever trapped in its waters, perpetually drowning. Do not drink of its waters either. You will loose yourself and all that makes you yourself."

"Where are we?" He asked in wonder. Her description sounded familiar but he couldn't remember the name.

She chuckled, a merry sound reminding him of bubbling brooks and cicadas. "On the banks of the River Styx. There is only one way to cross. We must wait for Charon, the Ferryman. When he is here, you may cross with me, providing you have brought your fare."

Startled, he looked at her. She reached in her mouth, under her tongue, and pulled out two gold coins.

"You have brought your fare, have you not?"

Oh, Apple Crisp, he cursed to himself. I've been so wrapped up in my quest I completely forgot about paying the ferryman.

She smiled again. "Why don't you tell me what you seek of Lord Hades. When I reach the other side, I can petition him on your behalf. We have the time. Charon will not be here for a while."

He considered his options. There weren't many. Orpheus had beguiled Charon with music, but Vlad was no poet. Without his ghost powers, he couldn't threaten Charon. And if he went back to the living world to get money for the ferryman, he might not be able to pass Cerberus a second time. He did not doubt the woman's words about the consequences of swimming the Styx. He sighed and looked the woman over. She seemed honest, nice and trustworthy. Moreover, this was his last option. Vlad had nothing else to lose.

"Please," he started. Stopped. Bowed gracefully to her in as charming a manner as he could. "I would be grateful, My Lady, if you could carry my petition to Lord Hades' ears."

She nodded, her smile widening. "Speak then. You have my word I will help if I can."

"I am Vlad Masters and I am here to ask Lord Hades to return a soul to the living world." It was essential she understand how important the boy was, so he told her of the accident which changed Daniel into the half-ghost Danny Phantom and how he became a hero in his home town of Amity Park. He included highlights of Phantom's best battles, then spoke of Shimmer's attack on Amity Park, of how he tried to warn Daniel, Valerie, Sam and Tucker, of the foursome's valiant sacrifice. By the time he finished, there were tears in his eyes and his throat was so tight he could barely speak.

"You want Lord Hades to bring Daniel back to life," she quietly mused when Vlad's words ran out.

Vlad nodded. "Yes."

"Yet you leave so much out of your story. You fail to speak of your own accident in college, caused, you believe, by your best friend Jack Fenton. There is no mention of your obsession with Jack's wife, whom you would do anything to possess, including killing your best friend. And then you conveniently disguise the true reason you wish for young Daniel's life. Tell me, do you believe if you convince Lord Hades to do this, that Danny will be grateful enough to come to your side?"

Vlad was stunned. How did she know of this? How did she know of him? Who was this woman? "No. It's not that," he denied.

No longer smiling, the woman before him was now distant, aloof. There was a quiet strength to her he hadn't seen before this. "Then what is it, Vlad Plasmius? Why do you wish for this boy's life?"

"Because…because…"

He couldn't do this. A part of him did want Daniel's gratitude for saving him and yet Vlad knew the truth. Daniel would hate him if he rescued Daniel and did not save the others. Even if he did manage to save all four, he knew deep in his heart the boy still wouldn't come to him. And worse, there were the reasons he had tried to prevent Daniel and the others from going up against Shimmer to begin with. Reasons that were bigger than his selfish need for validation.

Clearing his throat, he spoke the words, admitting the reality he had denied for so long. "Because, they need a hero. Because I once made a wish, granted by Desiree, which enabled me to see the future and a future without Daniel, without him or his friends, is a grim one. He is needed. They are all needed. Yes, I wanted him for my son. I wish he would have willingly come to my side, becoming my heir, but that doesn't matter now. The world needs him, cannot survive without him. And he needs his friends so he can be the hero the world requires."

The splash of a pole hitting the water could be heard in the distance, the sound of a returning ferry.

Vlad fell to his knees, his hands clasped imploringly in the gesture of Christian prayer. "I'm begging you, My Lady. Be my voice to Lord Hades. Convince him to return these people back to the living world. I will do anything for this."

The woman eyed him quietly, her expression serene. After some moments, when Vlad was sure she was going to refuse, she finally spoke. "Anything? Truly? Even give your soul for them?"

"Yes!" Vlad promised desperately. Life without the boy was no life at all, he found out when Daniel had started ignoring him. Until that point, he hadn't realized how badly he needed the acknowledgement his young foe had once given him.

She reached out a delicate hand and brushed the top of his head. A strange tingling sensation filled him, chasing away the pain of his injuries. "So you have promised, so you are bound."

The crunch of gravel echoed in the cavern as the ferry came ashore. Charon was a foreboding figure in his hooded cloak. His voice, when it came, was dark and rough. "Lady Persephone, your lord husband awaits."

Terror filled Vlad as he looked up into the knowing blue eyes of the woman before him. The first day of autumn. How did I not know her identity? I thought she was just another dead soul awaiting the ferry.

"I own you now," she whispered to him, the barest hint of a smirk on her face. "You have pledged yourself to me, Vlad Masters, Vlad Plasmius. You belong to me and will do as I say, when I say. Do you understand?"

He swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, nodding frantically. "Yes, Lady Goddess. You…you will bring him…them…back?"

The smirk changed to a gentle smile as she patted him on the head. "Everything has its time, My Darling Ghost-Man. Two years ago, it was Danny's time. And Tucker's and Sam's and Valerie's. But you are correct. The world needs Danny Phantom and Phantom cannot function without his friends. There will be a day, some time in the far future, when I can release them from the land of the dead. When the threat they are meant to truly protect the world from will come. Prepare for that day, Dear Vlad, so they have something to work with. Prepare and wait for me to come for you. I will keep my word. I so swear it by the River Styx. See that you keep your word to me and remember to whom you now owe your allegiance."

He nodded, unable to trust his voice. He wanted to believe her, but… Remember the lessons of Orpheus, he admonished himself. Do not lose faith, do not break your word, or you will lose any chance of getting Daniel back.

As the goddess stepped into the ferry, silver sparkles filled the air around her. Her bare feet became clothed with sandals, her chiton changing color from green to midnight black, the same color her hair changed to. The sparkles even changed her eyes to a charcoal grey and her skin to a pale whitish-blue as she sat on the ferry's lone bench.

Vlad gasped. This was something he hadn't expected. "You! You're a half-ghost?"

Persephone frowned at him, tossing her black curly locks over her shoulder. The voice she spoke with this time was the deep, cold echo of a tomb. "Do not insult me, My Dear. I am a goddess, not a mortal and certainly not a spirit. This is my form as Queen of the Underworld. The other is my form as the daughter of Demeter. I am neither half-alive nor half-dead. I simply am. Now, go. Prepare the world for the return of Danny Phantom."

"Yes, Lady Goddess." Vlad's reply sounded harsh and raspy even to him.

Charon poled the ferry off the bank and back into the Styx. Vlad got to his feet trying to decide what he was going to do next when the sepulchre-like voice of his new Mistress caught his attention with a final warning.

"Remember, Vlad. He is not your son. He never has been; he never will be. But perhaps, if you play your cards right, one day he can be your friend."

-------

It was snowing by the time Vlad reached his Wisconsin castle, a sign that winter had arrived in full force. He had never thought about the change in seasons before as much more than a natural event. But now, having met and pledged his loyalty to a goddess who was reportedly the reason for winter, he looked around at the whitened landscape with a new sense of wonder and awareness.

"Prepare", she had told him, and so he did. He wrote his will, set up several trust funds and increased the budget for his company's ghost research division. Their mandate was changed to think more long term while he created a new division solely for the purpose of mass-producing, and stock-piling, anti-ghost weapons. He even arranged to buy Spectre Detectors, Inc., keeping the company and its property intact for when Danny and his friends returned. It belonged to them, after all. It was their heritage.

And when Vlad was done, when he had completed every task he could think of, he did the only thing that was left to do.

He waited to die.