Author's Note: Just a quick one-shot of Danny's thought when he's feeling useless.

Disclaimer: Well, I'm disclaiming it.

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Dang it, when did I become outdated?

I remember this one time, not too long ago as I recall, when everyone adored the infamous ghost boy. Especially right after I saved the world, it was easy to get caught up in the whole everyone-knowing-your-name thing, everyone loving you, little kids running around with dolls that looked like you. I knew that it put tons of stress on Sam, you know, since she was already busy with our kids and her work and everything, but I still kind of secretly loved the praise. It was great.

The key to that was secretly. Sam didn't love it. Not one minute. Granted, it is a lot more out of her own comfort zone then mine, (I never sat in dark rooms for hours with only flickering candles as a form of enjoyment before I met her, thus exposing myself to actually meet people and whatnot…), but you'd think that she would understand. You know, get used to it.

But she hasn't.

Lily is so little, and Jack is growing bigger every day. When Jack was a tiny little thing, I'd miss days at a time of his life solely because of my ghost hunting. Now that ghost attacks are more and more rare, (the portals are finally ghost-proof-ly locked, so the only way they can get to our world is the infrequent occurrence of me or Vlad opening them, or a natural portal), I have more free time.

I don't know what to do with myself.

Honestly, it's such a twisted cycle. When you're super busy, all you can think about is collapsing on that recliner. However, when you've got nothing but time, that recliner is making you itchy to move, and it feels like the walls are closing in. One time I was so out of it that I was curled on the floor, moaning, when Lil found me. She reached out to me and touched my hand.

"Daddy?" She asked, her little, innocent, mousy voice pulling me out of myself. "Are you dying?"

I didn't even know that she knew what dying meant. It's not like Sam and I are those kinds of parents that over-shelter their children. In fact, ours probably know much more about dark things, (ghosts, Gothics, ect) then most other kids. But we certainly don't go out of our way to explain such things to them. So Lily asking that and, seemingly, knowing what it meant, made me able to withdraw out of my self-pitying bundle.

"No, angel." I said, sitting up a little, "Daddy's alright. He was – uh – exercising on the floor." I fingered her delicate black curls lightly. Where she got curls from is a mystery to both Sam and me. But she is the prettiest little girl you could possibly imagine.

The little ringlets splayed everywhere as she thrust her tiny body into my embrace. "I love you Daddy. Don't die, okay? Don't be like those ghostys. They scare me."

The sad little blue eyes were begging and I couldn't help but laugh and transform. "Remember, baby? Remember? I'm a super hero. They can't get you. You're my sweet little angel and nobody can hurt you. Not even a ghost."

Lily was a bit incredulous until I transformed back. Then we resumed hugging.

Honestly, it's moments like those that keep me going.

But I'm also learning quite a few lessons in humility. It's kind of humbling to know that you're not needed anymore. I had thought about getting a job, but seemed slightly pointless. See, the town of Amity had once realized that risking one's life for the safety of all of them should be rewarded. Also, they thought, I wouldn't be able to get a steady job if I was always out fighting and making it safe for folks to get to their jobs. Therefore, they had decided, I was paid an average salary per year. It didn't make us rich, but along with Sam's job, it made us quite comfortable. Enough so that I didn't need to look for more work.

Anyway, it wasn't the money that was niggling at me. I just felt useless. Like, what am I supposed to do? Be the stay at home Dad? Mr. Mom? Honestly, and not to make fun of anyone who does that, but I'm just not cut out to, you know, wash floors, and clean rooms, and make the house nice for when everyone gets home. I like to be out there, getting dirty so that there will be something for the person at home to clean up.

And I didn't say it had to be Sam. To be frank, she isn't that type either. We both knew that from the very beginning, even before we talked about children or even back when I proposed. Just anyone would be great. Maybe we should get a maid.

But that's not the point. Maids are useful to families that don't have time to clean and whatnot themselves. I had buckets of time. Unfortunately.

My mom once said that a man has to feel useful, even when they actually aren't being so. Dad was often kept feeling good about himself because of random things Mom would ask him to do. Building weapons can only be fun up to a point. Like when the 'science' portion of your brain is melting and all you want to do is get out of the lab.

Mom says that it takes away some of their man hood not to feel helpful in their own families.

And boy howdy, do I ever feel worthless. (Can't you tell? I mean, honestly, I had the time to think up the hokey phrase 'boy howdy.') Maybe I'll go and make Lily some lunch.