A/N: This story is set in the Must Be universe, but can be read separately. It is dedicated to dreamers, never give up on your dreams; follow them and they might just come true.

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom and all affiliated characters belong to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon, not me.

……Harmony Lane……

"Harmony Lane? Doesn't look very harmonic to me," twelve-year old Danielle Phantom observed as she landed in an alley and changed into her human form. Harmony Lane was a despondent area in Lower Masonville and was filled with abandoned warehouses. It sent a shiver down the ghost-girl's spine to see a place so lonely and desolate, but with nowhere else to go, she would have to call it home.

Nervously, the raven-haired girl crept down the street and through the alleys, looking for a door that was left unlocked, or a broken window. She could phase in, if she had to, but she didn't want to waste her strength; she was, after all, unstable.

Finally, her efforts were rewarded when a door nudged forward at her push. Wincing at the loud screeching the hinges made in protest when moved after being untouched for so long, the preteen edged in and closed the door behind her.

Taking a deep breath, Dani let her eyes adjust instead of tapping into her ghost powers, and saw a dark hallway, littered with boxes.

Danielle felt nervous, but she moved on, extremely tempted to transform; she always felt braver in her Phantom form.

"Who are you?" snapped a sharp voice, "what're you doin' in my house?"

"Th-this is a warehouse," the girl argued, shakily.

"Still a house!" the shaggy woman shot back, pulling out a knife.

Scared, Danielle did the only thing she could think of and ran, only to be cut off by the same woman.

"Whoa! You're fast!" the ghost-girl exclaimed, searching for a way out. Finding none, she did the last thing in the world that she wanted to do, and transformed.

The woman was so startled that she almost dropped her knife, but quickly regained her composure, "I'm not fallin' for any fancy tricks!"

"This isn't a trick. Now let me go!" Dani screamed. When the woman still held her knife up, she ignited her hands with green ectoplasm.

"What! What's that?" the woman yelled, scared of the green glow, then her eyes lowered and she stared.

When Danielle saw the woman's eyes widen, she followed them only to find that her feet were turning into ectoplasm.

"Ah!" she screamed, shutting her eyes and concentrating, letting the blast fade away as she reformed, and fainted from exhaustion.

Startled, the woman put away her knife and carried the kid down the hall and into a room that must have been an office at one point. Taking a rag, she wet it and dabbed the girl's forehead, neck, and wrists until the girl awoke, revealing baby blue eyes.

The kid jumped when she saw who was dabbing her forehead and scrambled back, only to fall off the desk. Surprised, she looked around, trying to get her bearings straight. All around her were beautiful sculptures, made of a variety of things that people would normally throw away, but there were also some that littered the ground, broken.

Danielle's eyes widened in realization, "You made those?"

The strange woman nodded in confirmation.

"I'm sorry I scared you. You must have thought I was another vandal coming to destroy your art," she apologized, realizing now that the woman had been just as scared as she was.

"You're sorry? You've nothin' to be sorry for, I'm the one that threatened you with a knife and wouldn't let you go!" she finally spoke, though in a much gentler voice than before.

"Well, I guess I should get going," Dani mentioned, starting to move, but she was stopped by a gentle hand.

"Not," the woman said, "in your condition."

"Wha-?" Dani began, then looked embarrassed, "You saw that?"

The woman nodded, "What was it?"

"I'm…not normal," the girl confessed, looking away.

"Well, I saw that, Ghostey," the woman teased.

Danielle giggled, "I guess I need to be more careful about my identity. You won't tell anyone, will you?"

The woman, who was actually quite pretty despite her worn state, looked baffled, "Why would you want to hide such a unique part of you?"

Danielle was taken aback by how true the statement was, "Well, I don't want to hide who I am, I have to. People, well, people don't like ghosts."

"Well, I'm 'people', I like you," the pretty adult smiled, making the younger girl relax and transforming her features even more.

"It's not really people in general," Danielle explained, "that don't like me, it's ghost hunters and the government and people who just don't understand; I would never be able to lead a normal life."

"What's so great about normal?" the lady asked, playing with a pencil sharpener and a paper airplane made from newspaper.

"I don't know, not having people stare, I guess," Dani shrugged, she really wasn't sure about that, but she knew that she hated being stared at.

"It's more that people stare for the wrong reasons, isn't it? I mean, it's fun when they stare because they like you, but scary when they don't," the woman said, unexpectedly, still distracted as she stuck the tip of the paper into the sharpener.

"Yeah," the girl agreed, watching the woman's actions with interest. She was now tearing the paper until all that was left coming out of the plastic sharpener was a bunch of streamers. Next, she jammed the sharpener into the opening of an empty and battered pop can, "Wow, that's really cool."

"You think so?" she wondered aloud.

"Yeah. I've never seen anything like it," Dani returned amicably.

"Then it's yours!"

"What! But it's your art!" the girl exclaimed, startled by her generosity.

"I've got plenty of art, take it," the woman insisted kindly.

"Wow, thanks," she smiled, "I'm Danielle Phantom, by the way. Dani, with an 'i' for short."

She stuck out her hand, "Nice to meet you, Dani, I'm Denise Tiller."

Dani put down the gift and smiled as she shook her new friend's hand. It was nice to be accepted for who, and what, she was.

"Hey, maybe I can help you! You need someone to protect your art, and I need a place to stay," the girl offered.

Denise shook her head, her long black hair swaying behind her, "You're sick, you can stay, but-"

"I'll be fine, Denise, so long as I don't over-exert myself," Danielle stopped her.

"Well, then, I guess we have an agreement," Denise smiled, "Call me Tillie, though; I always thought Denise made me sound so stuffy."

"Alright, Tillie," Dani laughed, brushing some stray hair from her face. She was a little confused when a small smattering of dust fell in front of her eyes. Intrigued, she rubbed the strange powder between her finger tips. It was too course to be dust, yet too fine to be anything else. Brushing the thought, and the dust, away, Danielle started to pick up the junk littered on the floor and put it in a neat pile.

Danielle hadn't realized, however, that her new friend had been watching her wearily to that point. What is she going to do? She'll turn me in for sure- She's too good.

"You okay, Tillie?" the girl's voice interrupted her ponderings.

"What? Oh, yeah, just thinkin'," Tillie excused herself. In the next room, she ran her hands over her chocolate-colored face and pushed back her hair, trying to remember when addiction hadn't plagued her life. She couldn't.

In reality, Denise Tiller's downward spiral had started when she was at college to be an artist. Her boyfriend that she'd had since high school had broken up with her and her roommate had convinced her to go to a party over at the next dorm. It was a wild party, with loud music and alcohol. There, Tillie had met a boy, she couldn't even remember his name, who had made her feel special again. From there, everything was a haze.

"Are you sure you're okay? You seem kinda out of it," Dani worried.

"What? Of course, 'course," she responded, startled, "Let's get you set up."

As the weeks passed by, Danielle and Tillie managed a meager existence. Tillie worked on her sculptures and, when she could, earned a few dollars from doing odd-jobs nearby. Whenever she could, Danielle helped earn what little they needed for food or looked for different things that Tillie could transform.

Over that time, Tillie found that, instead of snorting cocaine in the evenings, she was talking. Instead of nosebleeds, she had a friend. Unfortunately, like with many friendships, Dani and Tillie had their fights, after which Tillie would return to her old habits, and Dani would fly off.

Dani cried as she thought of their most recent blowout. She had walked in on her friend putting a straw to the powder she'd discovered her first day, then breathing it in.

"Tillie! What're you doing?" she yelled, coming in to find the adult red-handed, "Is that cocaine?"

"No! It's not, it's…it's…" she tried to come up with a suitable excuse frantically.

"Don't lie to me!" Dani shouted, hurt and already on the brink of tears. She sent a blast at the powder her friend had jumped away from.

"Dani, no! I ne-"

"No, you don't! Is this why you're on the streets?" the girl interrupted, transforming and running away.

Wiping at her nose, Danielle headed back to the warehouse, only to find it empty. She left to search for her.

"Tillie? Are you her? Denise!" she called, looking for her friend, "I hope she's alright."

Tired and worried, Dani went back to the place that had become her home and cried. She felt abandoned and lonely, just like the warehouse she slept in. How could Tillie do this? I thought she was so cool. I thought I could count on her! ...I'm just a burden…With that thought, her heavy eyelids finally shut and she was thrown into a fitful sleep.

The next day, Tillie had still not returned and Danielle had slept in late. Still, tired and hungry, she made her way to the soup kitchen for lunch. All the while, she kept a sharp eye out for Tillie, but to no avail: Denise Tiller was no where to be found.

I'm beginning to think maybe Vlad wasn't so bad- No, Tillie loved me, she never tried to use me like Vlad did, she thought, angry at herself for even letting it pass her mind. Vlad was evil and even thinking of going back to him would mean betraying Danny, and she couldn't do that. He had been the first person to genuinely care about her. Then why did he let me leave? NO! Danny's not like that; he just couldn't explain me to his parents.

Hoping to keep her doubts at bay, Danielle began to tidy the small office where Tillie did her work. She worked for over an hour until she found something intact. She actually remembered the day her friend had made it. Dani had been drawing on an old newspaper while Tillie had molded several cans into the shape of a worn blooming rose, sticking a faded American flag in its center. When finished, however, Tillie had thrown it down, calling it trash and ugly. In the twelve-year old's mind, however, it was beautiful.

"I guess I'd better throw it away," Dani spoke sadly. Carefully, so as not to drop it or break the art Tillie had been happy with, she made her way out through the hall where she had first met the artist and to the alley where the dumpster was.

Before she could put the piece to rest, however, a voice stopped her.

"How much is that?" a man queried. He was around Tillie's age (mid-thirties), wearing a nice business suit and carrying a briefcase.

"How much is what?" asked Danielle, dumbly. She really didn't know what he was talking about.

"That sculpture," he clarified, "You know what? Never mind, I'll give you five hundred bucks for it; it's exactly what I need at my office. Simple, but meaningful."

Stunned, the girl was very appreciative, "Wow! That's really generous."

Once they had finished the transaction, the man wanted to know her name. She gave him the name he wanted to hear, the artist's name. The tin rose would be perfect for the gallery where he worked.

Shocked by her good luck, Dani went inside.

This money doesn't belong to me, she thought, and it's not enough to support two, but Tillie might be able to turn her life around. I can handle myself for awhile.

Grabbing a stubby pencil and a crinkled piece of notebook paper some kid had thrown away last week, she scrawled out a short note for when her friend returned, as she always did, and left with only her pop-can sculpture.

Hearing footsteps as she came out, Danielle turned invisible and watched as Tillie returned home. She would miss her, and this place, so much, but things needed to change.

Once Tillie was inside, she whispered, "Bye, Tillie. And good luck." After that, she went on her way.

Moments later, Tillie ran out screaming her name and looking for the young girl who had changed her life so much. Thinking back over the two months that she'd been there, Tillie began to realize that there had been days when she had ignored her drug, forgotten that feeling of dependency. Denise Tiller finally understood that she could live without cocaine.

"Thank you," she whispered, hugging the cash and the note that said:

Dear Tillie,

I know that addiction is hard to fight, but so long as you try, you're winning. These last two months have been great. If you're wondering where the $500 came from, it's from that rose sculpture you hated so much. I was cleaning up and was about to throw it away when a man stopped me and offered me the money. I sold it. This is what he said: "Well, keep at it, Denise, you're gonna be a great artist someday." It's enough for you to get a cheap apartment and some new clothes, but not if you have me around. I will miss you so much, but I wish you the best of luck.

Love, Dani

……………

A/N: First off, don't ever give money to a drug addict; they'll more than likely use it to buy more drugs instead of put their lives back together; I just did this because I'm a sucker for happy endings. Other than that, what did you think of Tillie? Did you like how she seemed to change? And what about Dani's decision to leave? Will Tillie do what the note suggested? Tell me in a review, and as alwaysALOHA!

P.S. You're not going to get any update on Tillie, I just want your opinion.