Disclaimer: Danny Phantom, the world set within it, and the characters in it are not owned by me - that privilege belongs not only to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon, but also just as importantly to the vast team of co-writers, co-directors, animators and all other staff who laboured over its creation and development. Without their efforts this fanfiction would not exist, and neither would a good portion of what struck me in the first place in one of the most childhood-defining cartoons in my life.

The beach at night is truly one of the most peaceful sights to behold - the full moon radiating overhead and the water's erratic surface shimmering gently, almost invitingly, with the waves pulling in and out slowly, a most serene cycle of nature.

I wish it could have calmed the turmoil in my heart.

Only here was I immune from being chased by the media, chased by the public like an angry mob hunting after a witch in unanimous rage, chased by law enforcement, paranormal or otherwise wanting to bring this menace to justice. Only here alone by myself was I in a safe haven by my own…

But even this safe haven, it felt like my own personal psychiatric ward, ensnared in a straitjacket of my own accord. There have been times - times before I was a ghost, and times that I am sure are not unique to my own - were the urge to just, kill somebody, or stab someone in the neck, or jump in front of a bus, or something just as psychotic, just passes through you. It's an infinitesimally ephemeral feeling, of course, that you instantly go back to normal afterwards. That same feeling - to just wipe this place with ectoplasmic energy, to truly show people what it would be like to ravage their communities and lives - surged through me again, only to persist a little longer than usual.

Did I really even want to do it? Peering into my heart felt like looking through a thick haze. I clenched my fist into a tighter ball. Why was I so weak? What was the good of a protector who couldn't even protect anyone? What if it were my daughter, too? What if I had someone I loved, life completely altered for the worse because of the carelessness of someone else? Wouldn't I also feel just as furious, indignant at the injustice being served? Wouldn't I also want the head of whoever caused this?...

"Don't touch her!"

I stared forward blankly, the glints and flashes of light that sparkled across the ocean lulling me into a state of vegetation and hypnosis. The longer I stared, the blurrier my vision got - were my eyes just tired? The pain that flared across my body oscillated in intensity, like a pattern of suffering as consistent as it was dull and exhausting. I heaved a sigh of discontent, hunching forward as if my stomach was churning about. Maybe if there was a way to get rid of this…

At first, I hadn't even noticed that my legs were bringing me towards the shore. Only when my ears had fully registered my boots crunching against the gravel, breaking from the auditory comfort of the soft crunches beneath me. But then, why would I even make the effort to stop myself? Eventually I heard the slosh of liquid beneath me. I marched forward, until my feet had entered the water, and then my legs, slowly buried beneath the ocean. I shivered as the cold sting of water hit my torso - no matter how waterproof the ghost suit was, it felt like walking straight into a pool of liquid nitrogen - and I huddled myself closer, my teeth clacking rapidly as I tried to adjust. But I shook my head. I hadn't much time to adjust myself for, anyway.

"How dare you claim to want to save her. You killed her. You killed her, you monster!"

I continued to walk forward, and now the water was up to my neck. Even here I could catch the saline waft of the sea breeze in my nostrils. The hairs at the back of my neck stood at end, and my heart began to flutter at the rapid pace of a hummingbird's wings. The muscles in my body could not help but tense up, but all my mind was surrounded by was a hazy wall of pain. End this suffering, please! I'd do anything… I'd do…

"No!"

"I'll kill you myself!"

I dug my heels into the sand, anchoring my body as I continued to trudge forward into eternal misery. I wrapped my arms closer to my chest, my fingers clutching at the edge of my rib-cage. I could taste the water now, instinctively repulsive.

A part of me raged in ludicrousness at what I was doing. Perhaps this was too melodramatic, perhaps there was a way out, perhaps there was another alternative. But at the very least, it was worth a shot, to see at least if the pain would go away - even temporarily, and of course, perhaps even permanently.

I enjoyed the last breath I would take, the air fresh and biting with salinity, before sliding my feet forward again, and lowering my head into the water.

"You should be dead! I hope you're happy! How could a hero do this? Go to hell, you demon!"

I inhaled, and immediately exhaled when the sensation of being ignited alive sparked in my lungs. I suppose I had to get used to the pain first. A small breath in, another rush of embers scorching my windpipe, the more I cough, the more I want to desperately break through the surface. But at least I'll get something right, won't I? God I need oxygen. But I can't. I need it. I suck another breath in, heavier now, and while it burns less, the water is such an overwhelming heavy feeling, and it still pierces my lungs like a giant arrow. Anything to numb the pain… I cough again, restraining myself from breaking the surface harder now, my arms gripping so tight I was positive my ghost suit would rip at the sides of the chest area. I need to breathe. I need air. But.

A couple more breaths of water and the dizziness from lack of oxygen started to spread - slowly at first, slowly but surely, and then all at once. I could see a girl in front of me, a young girl covered in burns and her skin rotting to the bone. "You didn't save me, Danny," she taunted, and I couldn't disagree at all. "Why didn't you save me?" At this point the energy was getting more and more drained from my body, and I could see only blackness closing from the outside in, edging from the perimeter of my vision threatening to swallow me whole. Maybe this would help, I suppose. Maybe this would finally atone for my sins, make the suffering stop. Of course it would. This was my fate anyway. All I could really do was wait for the boulder to crush me as it rolled downhill...

A pair of arms wrapped around my body and pulled up. It didn't quite register in my head that something was anomalous, even when the hands struggled to un-lodge my feet from the sand. I didn't even have the autonomy to phase through them before I felt myself rise to the surface, and then, my face finally emerged. Air, sweet air, began to enter my lungs, and I coughed uncontrollably, too weak to even support myself or help this person as my body was lugged back to shore.

It was like a darkness had enveloped me, threatening to swallow me whole, and yet I had no clue myself if I wanted to even succumb to it. This strange ambivalence of not really having the will to fight back, not really having the will to bring myself back into the light, but not really craving for the darkness either. I hadn't even noticed that I was now lying on my back, on the shore.

A silhouette of a face appeared above me, and even through the muffled tone I could hear a concerned voice, female, probably emitting from the face hovering above me. I feel delicate hands press onto my chest, softly at first, but then a little harder, and then gradually increasing in intensity. Hammer, hammer, hammer. An electric buzzing at my face, mainly my lips. A muffled desperation ringing in my ears. Hammer, hammer. It's like my mouth was on fire.

Then, seawater, spurting forth from my mouth. And then another time, and then I was coughing up burning water, and just like that, the darkness had completely dissipated. I rolled to my side, clutching my chest as I coughed out whatever liquid had been in my lungs, my throat feeling like it was being set alight. It seemed like the tendrils of reality hadn't quite been done with me yet.

I hear something flop next to me; out of curiosity, I rotate myself to see, and make out the blurry outline of a girl, collapsed on her knees and hands, coughing and gasping for dear air. She wrung her black hair, sopping wet and scattered with sand grains akin to how the sky was scattered with stars, and when she flipped it to the side, I caught her face, and suddenly it was like the light had flooded back into my vision. Paulina scrunched her eyes closed as she heaved for air, her body clearly drained in energy, but all I could do was stay rooted. Why? Why was she there? More importantly, why did she even care? Why did she even bother to go into the ocean to…

She turned to me, her eyes filled with such a complex mix of emotions that it just sent a jolt down my spine - accusation, anger, injustice, hysteria, fear, shock, anguish, bittersweet bittersweet anguish, hatred, love, and of course, pure sadness. I could not tell if the moisture welling up in her eyes was remnant seawater or tears, but somehow it didn't seem to matter. For a while there were no words between us, just the sound of our breathing, still as heavy as spilling invisible bricks, with the rolling waves in the background, and our eyes locked together for what seemed like eternity after elapsing eternity.

This wasn't right in the slightest. Wasn't I supposed to be the one to save her? It didn't feel right to be in the reverse. And especially when she wasn't even saving me from my enemies - or, to be more precise, what she would think to be my enemies.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, and blinked rapidly. "... why?" I croaked hoarsely.

She shook her head, still looking at me with her mouth agape. She opened her mouth a little more, but closed it subsequently, catching her breath.

"Why would you even try to save me?" I accused, this time louder and the rage more pronounced in my voice. "Why did you even… even bother…"

"How could you say that?" She spoke softly. "After all you've done for everyone… after all you've done for me? Why would you say that? Why would you… even think…" Her voice cracked to a whimper, and her face crumpled.

My eyes flitted down to the sand, despondent, and I laid my head back down face up. "All I've done?" I repeated, snorting in dismissal. "All I've done? All I've done is to destroy people's lives. Just ask literally anyone else. This is the least I can do to repent, and give them a place to dance away the misery I've given - my grave."

"What are you talking about?" Her tone was now of disbelief and bewilderment. "You think no one needs your help? If nobody else, I need it. But we all need you. You of all people should know you're the only one."

"Do you want to be another Miranda?" I queried, raising my voice, now ludicrous. "What are you going to do when your life is endangered because of me? What will your parents think? What will the people around you think? I don't want anybody else to be one, Paulina!"

"Don't… Don't be stupid!" She was furious now, and she now sat up, her face hovering over mine. "You think leaving now and destroying any chance of preventing other ghosts from killing others isn't just making everybody a Miranda? That doesn't sound like the ghost boy I know. That doesn't sound like the hero I know you are."

"So much for a 'hero' when everyone thinks I'm a villain, huh Paulina?" I scowled, my eyes averting her stare. "If a tree falls in a forest…"

"Then a tree falls in a forest," she answered. "Come on, ghost boy, you of all people know there's nothing stopping other ghosts once you're gone, don't you?"

"Someone could take my place. Someone who's more capable."

"We both know that's not true," she countered. "If there was, they'd be here by now. And I don't want anyone else. How are you going to forget every other time that you saved people's lives - not just in Amity Park either - and just scrap it all because of one girl?"

"You don't know her. I don't know her, nor the constant living nightmare that her parents have faced because of me… and how there's nothing else I can do about it."

Her face softened slightly, and a couple of tears started to drip down onto my face. "And how… how would you know?"

"You would know how trivial it is to track me once you hear of a skirmish transpiring." One look at the delirious expressions on their faces - the lost sleep, the wasted tears, the hunger for revenge - was enough to haunt me forever. I felt my bottom lip tremble. "I was one split second away from having bullets through my chest… but of course, the worst part was just… and I knew it, too, you know? I knew exactly that I deserved all the shit they unleashed on me."

"That's not tr-"

"And it's not like I didn't want to help them either." I persisted, a little more adamantly. "No amount of offers to pay their bills, try to help her or them in their lives in any way possible, nothing was going to sway them. What am I even going to do? What? What do you even do when the person you want to make it up to is straight up rejecting your calls for action?"

The look on her face killed me - the absolute sadness that honestly had no business directed at me.

"I killed their kid, according to them… and I really did murder her, didn't I? Their Miranda. Even if she were alive, the best case scenario is still so… so grim, and it's all my fault. Even you know that. It is my fault. Everything… everything is my fault…"

I don't even know why she wept - and for me, nonetheless. How did it make sense? Wasn't I supposed to be the one weeping for myself, or better yet, for that girl? And here she was, wrapping her arms around me, pulling up to sit upright with her, as I remained motionless, emotionless, somber in my resignation of fate. Why did someone else have to carry my burden? Maybe I should've actually just perished in that water, didn't I?

"It's not your fault…" She comforted, her voice slightly muffled. "Don't be so hard on yourself ghost boy… You did your best. You always do your best. Don't blame yourself for one injury."

"But they're not wrong are they?" I said, unsure if I should even reciprocate her embrace. I glanced at my hands behind her back awkwardly. "I did… injure her, badly at that. And maybe that alone makes me a villain. If not her parents then probably the whole town."

"Not to me." She pulled back slightly to look at me, and even behind her tears there was a kindled determination that was reflected in her irises. "You know you're my hero, don't you? And I'm sure I'm not alone on this."

Of course she wasn't, but I remained silent.

"But if anything - and I want to be selfish about this - even if you're the villain to others, can't you be a hero at least to me? There are people who need you - even those who vilify you, and you know this. I need you. Isn't that enough?"

I swallow my saliva, slumping my head a little now. "I don't understand," I muse aloud. "Why don't you see me as a monster? Everyone else does. The people who don't, and to be completely honest, I know them in a way I don't know you. So why?"

"Because I-... I love you, ghost boy."

I scoffed instinctively. Is that a joke? Of course not, it's about as much as I was aware she felt of me as 'the ghost boy'. But even I knew it wasn't love. What kind of person just blurts that out like they're the main protagonist of a soap opera, desperately trying to sell the emotion for cold cash? In the same way my feelings for her weren't love either… no matter how much I wanted them to be.

"How can you claim to love me when you don't even call me by my name? I don't even know if we're friends, Paulina."

"Then let's start, okay?" she asserted, now placing her hands on my shoulders. "I don't care even if you like me back. I-... maybe a little, but being friends to start with - that would be the most important thing to me. Would that be okay? If I could just… spend more time with you, help you fix this stupid mess you're in, just anything to drown out the pain for you… I would do that, and then some."

"How would you do that?"

"I'm sure I will think of something." For the first time tonight, she smiled at me, and for a fleeting moment, it was like the troubles of the world had evaporated around me. "But for now… would you accept that?"

I sighed in exasperation. All this time I had spent trying to distance myself from her, trying to make sure I didn't use my powers just as a love potion… it seems like my efforts had failed. But at the same time, who cared? I needed something. If all Jazz, Sam and Tucker could do was to tell me to suck it up and continue marching on in the valley of torment, then to hell with that. If there was a reason to carry on…

"One condition."

"Anything."

"You call me by my name. You do know it, right?"

"Of course! It's… Danny. Danny Phantom."

"Hmm?"

"What?"

"Oh, I-" I bit my lower lip, not sure if I was going too far. But nevertheless… I cleared my throat. "I wanted to hear it again."

"Danny Phantom… my hero."

It was my turn to smile again for the first time. "You didn't need to add that part."

"Is it that… you like to hear me saying your name?"

I chuckled. Normally I would have concealed such a thing, but… "Maybe," I conceded.

"Then I can say it as much as you want, Danny."

"As long as there's no more 'ghost boy' stuff, yeah? Feels so… weird to hear you constantly refer to me as that."

"I'm sorry. Danny. Danny Phantom… you have a great name."

The temperature at my cheeks began to rise. "Please."

"Danny?"

"Yes?"

"Can you promise me something? Never do that again. You've done so much good, you know that? You deserve so much more than just disappearing into the ocean. And don't worry about Miranda… what was that saying again? This too shall pass?"

I frowned contemplatively. "I don't think it's as simple as that."

"I'm sure something will look up soon," she assured, pulling me into her arms. Despite her trembling body, the warmth that she permeated was almost numbing in its comfort, like a straight shot of morphine coursing through my veins. "I believe so."

At best I could only describe my visions of the future as ambivalent. But at least… if this was the way to fix it, to do something, then perhaps this was a step in the right direction. I didn't think anybody in my position would do anything differently, at least at this point.

"Okay."

"Okay, meaning…" she clarified, still holding her embrace.

"I won't… try to do something silly like that again. And you're right… of course these people need me." Whether they knew it or not.

"Can you promise me that, then? That you'll always be the hero we need you to be? Or, at least, to be my hero?"

I bit my lower lip, knowing how heavy and how brutal of a promise this would be. But with her, somehow, I felt the most compelled in my life to devote that much to her. "I promise. I'll always be your hero. For sure."

"Thank you g… Danny," she sighed in content.

They were wrong. Of course they were wrong… is what I can only tell myself, over and over again. Even if I had to bring the boulder back up, keeping the city safe was the number one priority, above all else.

I could only hope to make it remain that way, at least. At least for now.