Author's Note: Welcome to chapter two of What the Eyes See! It's good to see you all back again, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This chapter, I've fallen into some angst, and here you are with me, in the blood-engulfed pit of doom. I hope you will enjoy this chapter, and please review.

As a note, I will also consider suggestions/requests for certain genres of chapters from WtES (except lemons). If anyone has anything specific they would like to see, or anyone specific they would like to see find out Danny's secret, give me a holler - I might be able to wrestle out an idea, or six.

As always,

Live long. Live well. Write.

Acceptance

They knew.

Oh God, they knew.

Danny felt his heart begin to race and his breath quickened.

No, this had to be a bad dream. It was a nightmare.

No… no, no, no, no, no…

No, they didn't know. They didn't. They couldn't.

His body was drenched in sweat as he lay there. He felt cold. He shivered at a nonexistent wind and closed his eyes just for a moment. They were so heavy… he was so tired…

Oh God…

How could he have slipped up? How could he have let them see?

"Danny… Danny…"

He tried to ignore their cries. He didn't want to look into their faces. He didn't want to see their eyes when they told him that they hated him.

"Danny…"

Warm fingers… brushing his flesh. They forced his head to turn until he saw his mother staring back at him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. There was happiness and sadness in her eyes. How was that possible? How could you be happy and sad at the same time?

"You're crying," he whispered softly, and his voice sounded so weak and hoarse to his own ears. Had he been screaming? Yes… he had, hadn't he?

Maddie nodded her head, unable to speak beyond the lump in her throat. Her hand wouldn't pull away from his face, though she wanted to remove her fingers from the burning icy sensation of his flesh.

His dad was there. He was kneeling down on his other side. Danny thought he might have been holding his hand, but sensations had begun to dance around each other, smearing together like a Picasso painting. Everything was misplaced.

"Do you hate me?" he whispered, and his eyes were latched onto his mother's. It was her opinion that concerned him. His father was accepting of everyone; he shot at ghosts because firing bazookas filled with green shit that melted stuff made him grin like a four year old in a candystore. Maddie hunted ghosts because she hated them.

"Do you hate me?" he asked again, this time trying desperately to raise his voice. He felt… so weak… he just wanted to sleep.

Maddie shook her head. "No," she whispered, and the smile had disappeared. The tears were all sadness now. "No, I could never hate you."

"I'm a ghost," he whispered.

"You're my son," she replied, and she brushed her hand gently down the side of his face. Her fingers were so warm… he felt so cold… "I will always love you, no matter what."

"No matter what," Danny whispered.

Maddie nodded, and Danny saw another tear escape her eye and roll down her cheek. Why was she crying again? She wasn't happy anymore. They weren't happy tears. They were sad. Why was she sad?

He couldn't think… he just wanted to sleep…

"So… tired…" he whispered weakly.

Those fingers brushed his face tenderly, soothing him, like water over rocks. "Go to sleep, Danny," he heard his mother whisper. "I'll still love you if you sleep."

"Promise?" Danny whispered, his eyelids fluttering open to catch the smile on his mother's lips. It didn't look right, he thought. It looked forced, for some reason, but he couldn't understand why.

"I promise," Maddie whispered. She leaned forward and kissed Danny tenderly on the forehead. "I'll always love you."

Danny smiled softly and closed his eyes. That was all he ever needed to know; all that held him there.

He closed his eyes, and in the peaceful darkness of acceptance, he slipped away blanketed in a wave of love.

His mother would still love him, even if he died…