I started to wake as the first rays of sunlight hit my face, streaming from the window.

I squinted my eyes against the light and slowly opened them. Everything appeared normal looking in my room, not at all reflecting the major changes that happened last night. But, there was one thing different about my room... I took in a deep breath as I stretched myself out further on the bed. I rolled over, laying on my side. I expected to see nothing but blankets and pillows on the floor since Phantom was notorious for disappearing (no pun intended); but I was surprised to see him still there.

He was fast asleep with one arm sprawled out carelessly and the other resigned on his chest, moving in time with his slow breathing. His lips were slightly parted, face tilted in my direction. The light from the window played with the angles of his face, making his long eyelashes cast deep shadows down his cheeks.

He looked so innocent. I never thought that Phantom and innocent would ever go together, but I guess I wouldn't have ever thought Phantom would be in my room either. With that white hair and soft glow encasing his body, he looked very much like some otherworldly creature-mysterious and untouchable.

I cocked my head; seeing him like this would definitely need some getting used to.

I wondered how long he was going to sleep. I couldn't picture him being a normal teenager, one that could sleep in at least til noon, but then again, he's proven me wrong before.

I waited for about fifteen minutes, just staring at him as if he was something I've never seen before, which was partly true. I wasn't used to seeing him so...still. All of my other memories of Phantom was him moving so fast I could barely catch him let along see him lingering in one spot for too long. Then again, I was chasing him at those times.

I finally got bored and couldn't wait any longer, so I took the bouncy-squishy ball-the one that I won at some fair-from my nightstand and threw it at him. "Wake up."

I didn't mean for it to hit his head, but I guess old habits die hard, what-do-you-know.

"Gah!" he jumped as the ball hit him, reacting instantly, he rolled over until he hit his head on my wall, looking very ungraceful might I add.

I couldn't help but laugh as he looked dazedly up at me as if he was just registering where he was. He blinked at me blankly a few times, resembling a deer caught in headlights, then, slowly started to get up into sitting position, back on the wall, rubbing the spot where he hit his head.

He began to smile at me. I don't really know why, but it was nice to see that. "Hey, have you ever heard of waking someone gently? You almost gave me a heart-attack."

I shrugged, giving him a smile. "I was never one for being subtle."

"Huh," he smirked, "I would have never guessed."

His eyes roamed around the room as if he was taking it in for the first time. I guess he was too delirious last night to truly process where he was. His eyes stopped on the clock on my nightstand; they widened slightly. "Eight o'clock!" he put his head back on the wall, closing his eyes. "Seriously, could you have at least waited until nine?"

I smirked at him, "Oh, suck it up; it's not that early. Besides, I didn't know that ghosts need to sleep," I teased, but I was really wondering if it was true or not.

"Well, I do," he said as he let out a big yawn, squinting his eyes in a cute, kinda funny way.

"Still tired?"

He looked at me levelly, "It's eight in the morning, of course I am."

"It's not that early." I said again; actually, this was sleeping in for me.

He gave me a weak glare, and rolled back to the makeshift bed, settling on to his side, still facing me, and pulled the covers up until the only thing I saw was a tuff of his unruly white hair poking out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Uh, no," he shook his head, still under the covers, but his stomach growled, telling me a different story.

I smirked at him. "Come on, ghost-boy; I will make you breakfast Valerie style.

"This is Valerie style?" he asked, sarcastically, might I add, as he stared down at the bowl of cereal in front of him.

I smiled, almost laughing at his expression. "Yep."

"Well, better than what I usually have."

I quirked an eyebrow, "Oh, and what is that?"

"Nothing. I usually can't get breakfast."

I looked at him questioningly, wondering if he meant that he didn't have food. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

He smiled at me, apologetically when he saw the look in my eyes, "I meant, I normally don't have time to eat because ghosts like to attack in the morning. They're annoying like that."

Huh, I always thought ghosts attacked at night...then, again, I've seen them around during the day, during school. I silently agreed with Phantom's last statement. Definitely annoying.

Which, made me think of the last ghost both of us encountered. He wasn't just annoying but dangerous too. More dangerous than any ghost I've ever faced off. And, for some reason he wanted Phantom. "So," I said, not able to bite my tongue. I looked down at my cereal, playing with the disregarded pieces with my spoon. "speaking of ghosts..." I looked up at him, to see his solemn expression. I guess he already knew what I was going to ask so I might as well ask it. "Who was that ghost from last night?"

Phantom looked to the side, a lot of emotions passed through his eyes: anger, disdain, frustration, and a bit of fear. I could tell this ghost and he had a very bad history with each other.

"Vlad Plasmius," he said, making the name sound dirty as if just saying it was a curse. "He's powerful and insane. Also, in desperate need of a cat."

I raised my eyebrow at him but let the comment pass. I focused my gaze on him, he looked back at me, staring. "Why is he after you?" I asked, trying to see what the ghost wanted with him. Sure, Phantom was powerful; but why did this ghost have such an interest in him to the borderline of obsession?

"Because," he let out a staggering breath as if the next part was going to be hard to say, "he wants me to be his son, his apprentice."

"Why?"

He shrugged, but I could tell he knew. "He...it's just really complicated. Even I don't entirely know why...but I guess he feels like we are...alike. But, he's wrong. I am nothing like him. He's evil, and he doesn't care about anybody but himself."

He was now glaring at the table, his voice ringing with conviction.

I looked at him with my on conviction, saying simply. "You're not."

He looked at me a bit shocked. "What?"

"You're nothing like him, Ghost-boy," I reiterated, sounding just as sure as the first time. Picking up both of our bowls, I turned to the sink; but I didn't miss the small smile that began to spread on his face.

I, later, found him in the bathroom, staring at the sickly green bump on his arm. His expression was a mixture of grim worry.

"It's not gone?"

He jumped, looking up at me with wide eyes. I was surprised that I startled him; he must have been in some really deep thought not to notice me.

He relaxed a little; then, looked back down at the puncture mark, his frown becoming deeper. He looked as if he was disappointed about something. He shook his head, answering my question.

He put his back to the wall, gripping his head as he looked up at the ceiling; I could see anguish in his eyes. "I can't even turn my hand invisible."

I frowned, knowing that he should have at least healed a little bit. I could already see the stress building up in him; I smiled at him, forcing my tone to be light to bring up his spirits. "If there's a ghost attack, don't worry, I'll be there to fill in."

"Val, no offense, but I don't want that. I don't want you ghost hunting...I don't even want the Fentons doing it. Just one shot...one shot and you could get killed. And, it would be all my fault."

I was starting to get annoyed by his stupid need to always be the hero, and I was getting even more annoyed with him always blaming himself. Huh, go figure, a couple days ago, I would have agreed that everything was his fault. Now, I was fighting him on that very notion. Ah, irony just loves me, let me tell ya.

I crossed my arms, "First of all, I can take care of myself, thank you very much. And, second of all, if that does happen, it would be my fault because I couldn't block a shot, not your's. So stop trying to blame yourself for things you have no control over. 'Cause shit happens; you just need to live with it."

I was still trying to have a light tone, but my humor was failing me. Phantom just looked even more distraught. Jeez, this kid seriously needed to chill.

He shook his head at me, appearing much older than he was. "It is my responsibility. Only mine. Not your's."

I groaned, throwing my hands up in frustration. "You're stubborn, you know that?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, "So I've been told." But, just as fast as it came, it disappeared, changing into a frown once more. "You need to have a normal life, Val. You deserve it; you don't deserve any of this. Trust me, you don't want this."

I could tell he was speaking from experience by the sadness and grief in his tone and eyes, which made me wonder what exactly he's been going through; but that didn't make me give in. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a look. "And, why do you think that?"

"Because I want to be," he looked down at the ground, glaring at it, which seemed to make the green depths in his eyes become even more vibrant with life. "Most teenagers worry about acne and what table to eat at for lunch, but, no, I worry about property damage and staying alive." He looked up at me, his gaze even more intense, which I didn't even believe was possible. "I don't want that for you, not anybody."

I was taken aback for second by the amount of compassion in his expression. "Why do you even care?" I whispered, remembering that just the other day I was shooting at him. Why would he want the best for me when I was his enemy?

"Because I don't want to see anybody ever get hurt, especially because of me, not being able to do something that I should." He was looking at me in a way that I knew he was including me when he said 'anybody.' He looked down, glaring at his arm, "And, now, I messed up again; I can't help anybody."

"But, it's not your responsibility, and you can't help this!" I insisted, gesturing towards his arm. He was being ridiculous. He shouldn't be so hard on himself to think that everything bad that happened in this town is his fault.

"Yes, it is, and yes, I could have. I should have been stronger. I should be stronger."

"Do you even realize how ridiculous you are sounding right now?"

"You don't understand!" he threw his arms up, frustration in his voice. His eyes became brighter for a split second.

I was about to reply, mouth open and ready, but something stopped me. A trickle of-it was a weird mixture of red and green-blood started leaking out of his nose. I couldn't help but gasp, "Phantom?"

Seeing my alarm, he looked in the mirror. He brought a shaking hand to his nose, the blood dripping on his fingers. He looked completely shocked. "What's-"

He cut off abruptly as he gripped the counter, his knees shaking; his whole form looked unsteady as it began to shake. I ran over to him, putting my arm around him to support him. "Hey, Phantom? Phantom?"

He released a small groan as his body collapsed; luckily I was still able to hold him up. I gently laid him on the bathroom floor. I looked at his eyes; he was barely conscious. He was breathing heavily just staring at me, trying to will himself to stay with me. "Hey, look at me, okay? Just stay with me."

But, no matter what I said, I could already see he was going under. His eyes began to close. I gripped his shoulder, shaking him. "Phantom? Come on, Phantom!"

His eyes rolled back, closing, head dropping to the tile with a thud.

"Danny!" I exclaimed hysterically, my last attempt to wake him, but I knew lost him.

"Phantom..." I whispered.

I looked at him, hoping that he would wake up; he seemed to always bounce back so easily... He was extremely pale, which made the bags under his eyes stand out even more. He looked frail and weak, nothing at all like the Danny Phantom I was used to seeing. I frowned, thinking that this could not be happening; he seemed so fine before. I raked his hair out the way, but my hand stopped when it touch his clammy forehead. He was extremely warm, and something told me the fever was not a good sign, especially for him.

I just stared at him, dumbfounded, not really comprehending what was happening. He was Danny Phantom. He was strong. How could this happen? I didn't know, but the only thing that I truly processed was the blood still coming down from his nose, leaving his face stained. And, it wasn't just ghost blood; it was human as well.

Oh, I just love making Valerie see the human side of Danny. :) Also, love her perspective, I get to be all snippy and badass...well you get what I mean.

I finally finished this chapter! Took me forever to track down the bits of loose-leaf I wrote parts of the chapter on. But, at least I got it all. Sorry for such the long time; I guess I got really sidetracked with my other stories and soccer. Heh.

Oh, also, it appears that this story is going to be longer than I intended...ya. I was originally going to only do four chapters but then, at the end of this chapter I changed it because at the end of this chapter Danny was supposed to like "Oh! I'm all better now! I can go now!" and Valerie was going to be like "Well, if you ever need any help look me up!" But then, I got all in writer-mode and completely strayed from the intended plan until THIS happened. So now, this is going to be a full blown story just because I like to put too much on my plate. XD There probably are some mistakes in this chapter. I just really wanted to get it up fast because I was feeling like I was letting you guys down not updating so I took a day off of editing. (Oh, how I detest editing.) Anyway, I hope that you guys like it! (Oh, and sorry for the shortness...ya) Also, sorry for the sudden scene change, but I really couldn't think of a smoother way to go into the last scene.