Protection

Cold rain fell on the broken shell of what was once a hero upon a high cliff. The cliff was a high one above raging waters. Tears did fall down the young boy's cheeks as painful memories surfaced of loved ones lost. He should have been there to save them, he should have been there. He wasn't. Phantom was blamed for their deaths; it was all Phantom's fault. Blame the ghost kid – it's always the nasty little ghost kid when something goes wrong. Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom; both hunted by the police for two very different reasons. The last Fenton was missing and had no other family, obviously a suicide case; after all what reason could he possibly have for wanting to live…? None, there was no reason, nothing left. On the other hand; Danny Phantom was wanted for murders he didn't commit, said to have heartlessly slaughtered almost an entire family with no mercy whatsoever. He held his injured leg tightly as blood trickled out of the deep gash from his last encounter with the government's ghost hunting agents. Life had never been quite right; he didn't quite knew what he was; a ghost trying to blend in with humans… or just some creepy little child with creepy little powers? Both – neither – who knows? It didn't matter, nothing mattered. He didn't deserve this. Any ordinary person who received ghost powers would have used them for their own selfish purposes yet this boy was different; he devoted his life to protecting people from the rising ghost threat, and this is how he is repaid.

He was nothing, nothing but a lonely soul; a lonely lost soul with nowhere to go. Maybe he should jump; maybe he should end his pitiful life. His pathetic existence was but a disease to the thriving word, a dead insect that would go unmissed for eternity. How the mighty had fallen.

The half ghost stared into the empty sky. No stars, no moon, nothing but clouds and rain. In the far distance the city of Amity Park could be seen. Lights on buildings, cars passing by, people hurrying around under umbrellas… Life went on for those people. Why should it? How could the world still spin when the boys own life was so shattered? Returning his eyes down to what lay below the cliff, he took a step towards the edge. No one would miss him, no one would care, and his absence would affect no one. His thoughts wandered back to those he loved; "Mom… Dad… Jazz… Tucker… Sam… Why?" Samantha Manson, he should have told her. He should have told her how he felt – it was too late now, far too late. She was gone, gone forever. Even if he did search for her in the ghost zone, the chances were that all he would find, all he could possibly find was a malevolent spirit. She wouldn't remember him; she wouldn't even be Sam Manson anymore. He fell to one knee as tears streamed down his face. As far as he could recall, he hadn't shed a tear since he was only a small boy and Dash had punched him in the face… Dash; that jerk was probably joking about 'what a loser the Fenton kid was' or 'this town is better without those insane Fenton's around'… It sickened him. It truly sickened him to think about life; life without his love ones; life alone. Bitterly alone.

"No one gives a damn about me…" He whimpered to himself.

He barely noticed the rain had stopped falling on him, he didn't feel the cold, he didn't feel the wind brushing against his face, he felt nothing. Standing behind him was the only other person who understood him; the only other half ghost who also had no one.

"I care, Daniel, I care…" came the soft, comforting voice of Vlad Masters.

Maybe there was hope.