A/N: If you want to know the why, I was raiding HBO a few nights ago for movies, and I realized a couple of things about the plots of romantic comedies. That, along with my recent slight obsession over writing a decent oneshot about how insert hero character here lives a life run by circumstances, was enough for me to write seven pages of this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any characters or ideas associated with it, nor am I making any money off of this.

A Weary Hero

He hadn't expected Sam to break up with him over something like this. Not when she knew what she was getting into, not when she'd already confessed to having loved him for so long.

And he hadn't expected her to be so angry about it, either. It would've made more sense if she'd peacefully backed off, offered to stay friends, and just tell him situation wasn't working out for anyone.

But she'd yelled. And she'd screamed. And she'd run off crying.

It's not the why that's unreasonable, he mused, it's the how. Lying flat on his back, Danny stared at the ceiling, silently daring someone to call him now. Sam was right about one thing: his 'job' didn't exactly wait for him. They could be in the middle of a romantic candlelit dinner on their anniversary, and the leader of some obscure ex-Soviet country would call up and announce that the ghost of Joseph Stalin had come to haunt him. And he'd have to go.

Or the Guys in White - now kept from keeping him 24/7 by the simple will of the people - would beep him with some new test they wanted to run, or some ghost they couldn't handle by themselves. Or his parents would. Or the Amity Park Angle would call him up and ask for an interview at six o'clock in the evening, and he'd have to fly up there, and potentially miss a date, so they wouldn't pull the A1-SA on him and start some kind of negative publicity whatever.

Savior of the world? So what? People forgot these things quickly. There were other problems to deal with, after all, now that the Disasterroid was gone. Never mind that he might have a life, a girlfriend. It was all about them.

So Sam was gone. She'd been completely unreasonable - in the movies he'd be portrayed as the villain, for sure, putting his 'career' in front of her. Not that he'd wanted to. The movies never talked about that.

It was, in fact, her fault - she'd convinced him to go into the portal in the first place, she was the one who'd made him a freak. She'd put herself in this position, expecting more of him than he could give, just like everybody else.

Danny sat up, sighed, and walked down to the kitchen, hoping to find some completely unhealthy junk food to gorge himself on. He instead found Jazz sitting at the kitchen table, reading - ironically - the Angle. She looked up, and smiled sympathetically.

"Finally decided to come down, little brother?"

"Yeah," he said tiredly.

"I'm really sorry, Danny. But she kind of had a point."

Danny's eye twitched. "Why does everyone keep saying that to me? It's not like I asked to be called a hero. When I tried to quit, before, everyone got mad at me, and now that I'm stepping up to my responsibility, everyone's mad at me anyway," he said, his voice growing quieter as he neared the end of his sentence.

Jazz smiled sadly again, and put down the newspaper. "Danny, everyone has to say that to you. We're all socially obligated to take the girl's side."

Danny laughed hollowly. "I kind of figured that out a while ago."

Duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh- He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and flicked it open.

"Yeah?" he asked, trying (and failing) to shove the exhaustion out of his voice.

"I heard you lost your girlfriend," an all-too-familiar voice said.

Danny groaned internally and turned away from Jazz. "Andrew -" Of course the Angle reporter would be the first to find out.

"Would you come in for comment?" Andrew begged. "C'mon, Dan. June's been low on good news."

"Andrew, I don't have to tell you anything. You do know that, right? That I don't actually like being interviewed?" He knew what the man would reply, but he had to vent.

"Remember A1-SA," Andrew said, his voice suddenly dead serious.

Out of all the news-places in the world, Danny hated the Angle the most. It was the only one that had that had discovered article one, subsection A of FAECA - the Federal Anti-Ecto Control Act - and thought to use it against him. After Danny had questioned whether anyone would care if his existence was illegal, the editor-in-chief had just smiled and told him a little bad publicity was all it took, and people would be screaming for the dangerous ghost kid to be locked up.

So it was renowned as the only newspaper Phantom would talk to. No one really had any idea that he hated it - but it wasn't like they cared.

And, Danny figured, there are worse things than being interviewed.

"When do you want me to come in?"

"Drop by as soon as you have the time."

Danny scowled. "Yeah, sure." He shut his phone, and turned back to his sister, who was watching, relatively concerned.

"McOrliss again?" she asked. Danny nodded grimly. "You're a celebrity, Danny," she consoled. "Just put up with the paparazzi, and maybe everyone'll forget about you after awhile."

Danny just laughed sourly and pulled out his once-again ringing cell phone. "What's up?" he asked.

"Swarm of ghosts. Head downtown; you'll spot them." He recognized his mother's voice just before she hung up.

"Gotta go," he told Jazz and transformed silently, flying through the roof, ignoring the sad look she gave him.

"Of course they can't leave me alone to brood, can they?" Danny mused out loud. Sam - whom he really did love, but was at the time quite angry at - had left him for such a stupid reason, the Angle was threatening him again, and the ghosts attacked.

What else was new?

He honestly was sick of it. The ghosts attacking, the claim over his life that everyone seemed to think they had, the simple fact that he was alone in the world (now even Vlad was gone, for Pete's sake) and that his existence was secretly illegal.

After a half an hour fighting ghosts with his parents (they took 'quality time' to a whole new level, Danny supposed), and after spending an hour and a half being interviewed by the incredibly nosy Andrew McOrliss, he flew home, collapsed into bed, and wondered if, at this point, he could quit.

Of course he couldn't (which was why he and Sam weren't still together, stupid as it was), and he was doomed to a life controlled by other people and his hegemonic circumstances.

Then his phone rang again, and, this time actually bothering to check his caller I.D., Danny found that it was Sam. Hesitantly, he hit the 'talk' button.

"Hello?"

"Hi." Sam's voice sounded shaky, like she'd been crying. "Danny, I'm really sorry. I was just being hotheaded and -"

"This is not going to be a mutual apology," Danny said bluntly. "If you're apologizing just to get me to do it, too, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

He heard Sam gasp. "I was trying to apologize, you bastard. I was hoping you'd have the common courtesy to do the same, but apparently it was only wishful thinking."

"I have nothing to apologize for." Without another word, he hung up, satisfied, and fell asleep.

The next day, Danny felt significantly better. It wasn't that he'd gotten off on hurting Sam's feelings - which he'd undoubtedly done - but rather, that he'd finally managed to stand up to her. For a few brief, shining hours, he felt like he had some semblance of control over his own life.

Then his phone rang again.

"Dude," Tucker said, and Danny could picture him pacing around his mayoral office. Immediately he knew something was verywrong. "You might want to check the papers."

Danny inhaled sharply and ran human-style to the nearest newsstand, turning off his cell in the process.

'Phantom abuses girlfriend: savior or just the same as Plasmius?' The subtitle underneath read 'Bonus: a law the government conveniently forgot to mention.'

Ignoring the clerk's glare, Danny placed the newspaper back in its proper place on the rack. Then he fainted.

- - -

When he woke up in the hospital the next morning, he understandably freaked out. Convinced the Guys in White had locked him up for good, he leaped out of bed in an astonishing display of agility and ran for the door. When he opened it, he was happy enough to find out that it was a normal hospital, until he remembered exactly why it was he was worried about the GIW.

Glaring down at his hospital gown, as if it could be blamed for all of his problems, he climbed back into bed. Play the good boy and avoid any more negative publicity was his internal mantra - maybe it's not as bad as you think it is.

Eventually a nurse walked in to check on him, and she smiled uncertainly when she noticed he was awake.

"Mr. Pha - ah, Fenton. Nice to see you're okay. I'll just tell your family you're awake -"

"What happened?" Danny asked, although he already knew. Standard question, and all.

"Erm - you fainted. After reading the news. You do remember what it said about you, right? Yeah, okay. Um, right. I'll go get your parents."

A few minutes later, Jack and Maddie rushed in. Maddie leaned in and felt his forehead; a useless gesture, but one that meant a lot to Danny, anyway.

"You feeling okay, son?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, fine. Why'm I in the hospital? I only fainted."

"You've been out for sixteen hours, Danny."

Danny leaned back, a deep feeling of dread settling over him like the lid of a coffin. "Okay. How bad is it? When are they taking me away?" The last part was meant as a joke, but it came out more seriously than he intended it to. A lot of damage could've been done in sixteen hours, and he wouldn't be surprised if people in Kyrgyzstan weren't tearing down his statue angrily as he spoke.

His parents glanced at each other. There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "You have until you're discharged from the hospital," Maddie said eventually, a slight hitch in her voice. "It's only temporary, though, while they review your case -"

"You mean while my trial goes through the court system, right?" Oh, God, please say right . . .

Both Maddie and Jack grimaced simultaneously. "No, honey, while they review your case. Because it's already obvious you've, erm, broken the law, and there aren't any real technicalities to argue . . . well . . . the GIW and the rest of the government are going to work together to try and figure out whether they can make an exception in your case, due to your special circumstances."

Danny blinked. He was doomed, and he knew it. Never mind that he'd saved the world, the Guys still hated him. And now they were denying him the right to a trial. "Kill Andy McOrliss for me," he said finally. "And tell Sam I'm still not apologizing for something that wasn't my fault."

Maddie wiped a few tears from her eyes and hugged him. "Danny, you're not dying. And you never know, it may not go through. And even if it does, it's only a matter of time before some huge impending disaster -"

"Mom, stop it. Because of what Vlad did, and what everyone thinks I did before, I've been on thin ice with everyone else from the start. Like I might be, you know, a super villain that saved the world for his own convenience, or something. The ceremonies and the statues were all formalities. So it'll take a much larger dosage of good publicity to erase the bad stuff, you know?" He smiled, even if on the inside he was screaming. The couple of times he'd stayed overnight with the GIW . . . he couldn't imagine a lifetime of it.

"We love you son, and we'll do everything we can to get you back," Jack said, uncharacteristically quiet. He pulled his son into one last bear hug.

"You know what?" Danny said loudly. "I feel fine. I just fainted from shock. Get me out of here." Might as well get this over with.

Jack and Maddie smiled weakly, and led him out of his hospital room. He didn't look back as several GIW agents led him out of the hospital. He wouldn't do that to them, even if he wanted to.

It wasn't about him. It never had been.

- - -

It was Sam who saved him. Her press conferences and campaigns speaking out for Danny and against any claims that he'd abused her, managed to be the double dose of good publicity he'd claimed he needed. As it turned out, people's faith in him was much less broken than it had appeared to be.

There was a large crowd outside of the Amity Park GIW headquarters when Danny was released. He was skinny, obviously malnourished, and sickly looking; and as he walked towards his ride, he raised his hands against the camera flashes, as if they physically hurt him.

Sam looked on with pity from inside her car - she'd asked the Fentons if she could drive him home. Danny climbed in, glad to be away from the reporters, and looked at a friendly face for the first time in six months.

"Sam," he said after they got back on the road. "I heard you're the one that riled up the people for my sake."

"Doing what I always do," she said, smiling wanly. "You know, I'm sorry about before. It's my fault you ended up where you are."

"I just spent half a year in hell. It doesn't matter how I got there, so much as how I got out."

"You know it'll never be the same between us, anyway."

"I know." A pause. "You have anything to eat?"

"No, sorry."

Danny sighed, and looked out the window. Back to living the circumstantial, self-sacrificing life of a hero, he thought. Better than living the rather painful life of a government lab rat, I guess.

He sighed, and looked back at Sam. "Can we try one more time? The girlfriend-boyfriend thing, I mean? 'Cause at the moment my options are down to either Tucker or Jazz, neither of which seem to appeal to me."

Sam cracked a real smile - not the ironic sort he'd seen far too many of. "It's worth a shot."

And, in the end, Danny felt it didn't really matter what his life was like. He'd deal with it, and having someone at least try to understand, even if they never would, made it just that much more bearable.