Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom
Summary: ' Many years after everyone's gone, Danny's having trouble passing on. An old friend, however, gives him the courage he needs.'
Warnings: O.O.C.
...
It wasn't Amity Park, he conceded, landing on the dusty, unused, ground, not anymore.
The world was changing. The ground, long sucked dry of any nutrients, sat desolate as people instead built places above the pollution and used robots to do their every bidding. He remembered a time they didn't.
But it was oh so long ago. Back when things like the Specter Speeder were top of the line instead of old junk left to rust in landfills. Not that they used those anymore either.
But he'd stayed anyway. Even after his human form had perished and turned to dust and all his loved ones left the world, he still stayed, clinging to the faint hope they'd need a hero. But it was in vain, crime didn't exist anymore. The laws were to stiff, the punishments to severe. They were all to afraid to try.
He crouched down, smoothing his hand over the rubble. Right here, he decided, that's where the grave used to be. A family grave, his family grave where they buried Jack and Maddie and Sam and Jazz and- well, everyone, to waste away. But even that was gone, corroded from years of precipitation and wind. All that was left was a tree.
When had he gotten so old? The years had shifted into blurs of time he'd spent flying, waiting, watching. Invisible but present, unnecessary but lingering.
"It's been a long time." He whipped around. She stood there, the green glow of death faintly encircling her form as she hovered next to him.
"S-Sam? But how? I sealed the-" he broke off. It had to have been done, to protect the world and the ghost zone, but that didn't make him feel any less guilty. Forever sealing the two worlds apart was not a call he was allowed to make, but he'd made it anyway. "Clockwork?" He eyed the gear medallion nestled around her neck.
"Bingo." She crouched next to him, brushing the rubble aside. Nothing but dirt. "Everything... really is gone, isn't it?"
"Not everything." He pointed up, to the shining city rising above the smoke, to the ignorant people who happily lived their lives not knowing any different to was left of home.
She nodded "That's not what I meant."
"I know." Everything he stood for, gone. Family, friends, Amity Park, all of it, gone.
"You watched over them, didn't you? Our kids and grandkids and great-grandkids and even our great-great-grandkids. You watched over all of the descendants of the citizens of Amity Park. But even they disappeared eventually, didn't they?" He didn't say anything, he didn't have to.
"You watched the blood lines slowly fade away until their was nothing left." She brushed her hair out of her face. "Nothings left." She repeated.
"I know." He repeated.
"Danny... come home with me."
"I-I can't." He shook his head, messy silver hair falling into his eyes. "They might need me."
"Who might? Danny, no one even remembers ghosts anymore. After the ghost zone was sealed, all the stories and footage faded away. You know that. The stories of Amity Park and of us have become just that... stories."
"Sam... I'm a hero. I can't just stop protecting the world." He glanced away. "You know, if they ever do need protecting someday, that is."
"Protection from what!? Crime doesn't exist anymore!" She sighed "Sorry, I got angry. What I'm trying to say is-" She grabbed his hand. "Ghosts are the past. You're the past. This-" She waved her free hand around the ruins surrounding them "Is the present."
He slipped his fingers between hers, squeezing once. "I'm scared" He admitted.
"I know. But... we miss you. Jack and Maddie miss you. The kids miss you. Tucker misses you. Jazz misses you. I miss you." She pulled away, stepping over to the tree nearby. It was an old, rotted thing, with twisted branches and a gnarly trunk. "Hey, remember this old thing?"
"yeah." He smiled. "We used to climb it all the time when we were kids; pretend we were astronauts. I'm surprised its lasted this long."
"No, you used to pretend to be an astronaut." She corrected, smiling. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't break a limb." She traced the patterns in the bark, a moments silence. "Danny?"
"Yeah?"
"Its time."
"I know."
And with that, he was free.
Later on, the branches of the tree sagged and fell apart, the bark giving way into fertilizer for the soil as the last thing keeping it alive faded away to where it should have been from the very beginning.
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