It was a beautiful day.
But not a day for a funeral.
Bees buried their fuzzy bodies into the bright, fresh roses hugging the closed casket. Brown sparrows glided lazily overhead, occasionally diving downwards for the various bugs and insects. A brown bushy-tailed squirrel fled up a tree, chittering and skittish. A shiny black beetle scuttled past the funeral director's toes and vanished into the thick green grass. Dew left over from the morning glistened in the sun, the scent of cut grass penetrating their noses.
Danny thought it was offensively colorful. Today shouldn't be perfect. It should be dark and gloomy and reflecting his mood.
Danny's eyes fixed to his family. They weren't holding themselves together very well, their eyes capturing a glossy wetness to them. Danny contemplated going to them. Everything is alright, he'd say. He'd remind them to smile, then they'd embrace into a warm and suffocating hug like a summer afternoon.
But he didn't.
Instead, Danny chose to seclude himself from the rest of those attending the funeral. His thoughts drifted, and suddenly he was living a memory he thought he'd forgotten.
When he was a young boy, his mother woke him up unexpectedly and dragged his half-conscious self halfway across Amity Park. He was still in his NASA slippers and baggy blue pajamas. As suddenly as he had woke, they had climbed to an undisturbed lookout watching the sleeping town. At the very top, he was at the center of the universe. The black abyss with the mass of glittering adornments of stars laid out endlessly above him. He wanted nothing more than to get closer to the billions of orbs littering the sky.
Now that he is older, the hills that once gave him a taste of freedom were nothing but graffitied parking garages and crumbling condos. Even if he will never be able to go back, the experience of the night sky will forever cement his love for space and the stars.
After hearing about the destruction of their stargazing spot, his mother scooped him up into her arms and reminded him to not worry. She had said that these things happen, but it's best to move on. His dad and his sister noticed him sniveling like a baby, so his dad proposed they all go out for ice cream (and fudge). They had let Danny get whatever he wanted, and Jazz even offered to share some of her own sweet. The family lost themselves in their laughter, encouraging Danny to forget about his special place. He knew he belonged here.
Starting, Danny was pulled from his thoughts by the funeral director giving their final words before the casket would be lowered six feet under. Danny raised up a single, damaged rose. It felt soft and delicate between his large hands, hands that never saw enough sun. The petals were uneven and slightly shriveled, but it was a pretty rose nonetheless.
Family and friends tossed their own roses and petals into the ground, so Danny did the same. The rose disappeared into the hole as it landed limply onto the lowering casket.
Transfixed on the official grave, he didn't notice when people began to take their leave. Time passed further, and soon the only things left were the abandoned flowers, him and the tombstone. The stone marking was half aglow with the setting sun. There were only a few orange rays left until twilight and then the stars.
A soft wind blew his hair over his eyes, acknowledging the presence of an old friend.
"It's time to go, Danny."
Danny paused, as if waiting for the cold winds to ruffle his hair but felt nothing. He never turned to face him but answered nonetheless.
"...I know."
He would give anything to be hanging out playing video games with his friends than being here, but he knew he had to face the inevitable, and his friends would not come. Sam and Tucker would know more than anyone else how to cheer him up.
Sam.
On a day not long ago, Danny barely survived a nasty ghost fight and had to bunk it in Sam's house for three days. They threw excuse after excuse at his parents, but Sam managed pull off the ruse. She was there by his side while his body healed, and comforted him when his stomach decided to up-chuck remnants of lunch, blood and ectoplasm. He didn't remember much, but her soft, comforting voice stuck with him the whole way. "Please hold on, Danny. You will get better," she had told him, "Just hold on."
"What do I do?" Danny wondered aloud, pulling from his memory, "after this?"
"Not even I know," the figure sighed, approaching him despondently. A single streetlight lit up his all-knowing, carmine eyes. A gloved hand clenched around his staff, adorned with many watches. A lightning scar ran over his eye, framing his face down to a small frown. Then Clockwork spoke.
"My job is to be the very person who brings you home."
"But I am home-"
Clockwork shook his head, "You won't be home for a very long time."
It took a minute for Danny to find what to say next. His brain generated several thoughts and questions, but not a single word fell from his lips. He was a hero, he was supposed to stay behind and protect the town. He was supposed to protect his family. His friends. Amity Park needed Danny Phantom.
"Danny," Clockwork resumed, "They will move on. People always do. As my years watching time, I've learned much about humanity. What I have learned is the earth, ghost zone and further could be consumed by flames and humans would undoubtedly persevere. That is why they're so remarkable."
Silently Danny nodded, but then flinched.
"Sam, Tucker, they will be so mad when… if I leave."
Clockwork smiled, his eyes reminding Danny of a small warm flame, "They're going to move on. So will you."
Danny looked away, "Yeah."
The boy turned to face the master of time. Clockwork's ever-changing face manifested knowledge that came with age. He smiled knowingly, and extended his free hand. Hesitating, Danny accepted the offer while Clockwork guided him away from the grave. Daring a glimpse back, Danny read the engravings on the stone.
Danny Fenton
Gone, But Not Forgotten
Soon, they had left the now empty cemetery. Clockwork fiddled with the switches on his staff, and a portal opened in front of them. A portal away from home. Swirling, vibrant colors laid out endlessly in front of his eyes, reminding Danny of the many galaxies all rolled up into one. It was breathtaking.
"Shall we go?"