Author's Introduction:

I don't usually write things like this, but I was listening to Duncan Sheik's new album and watching the episode "Flirting With Disaster", and Danny looked so sad, and Hey Casanova gave me this. I don't own any characters, any lyrics, but am lucky enough to be able to watch and listen. Thank you Butch; thank you Duncan; thank you for sharing with us.

Grey Morning

A Danny Phantom fanfiction by Firestar9mm

Hey Casanova, you don't look too good
And I know that times are tough
You never found your paradise like you said you would
And it's all catching up
Maybe that will never change
You may never come to your promised land
And it's a grey morning

His eyelids felt too heavy to lift. In fact, everything felt heavy—his arms, his hands, his heart most of all.

Ten minutes ago, everything had been going great. He'd been about to ask Valerie out, and for once Murphy's Law wasn't going to interrupt.

"I like her," he'd told Sam and Tucker, "and she likes me back. Shouldn't it be that simple?"

"Clueless," they'd responded with a good-natured roll of the eyes, and they'd been right.

She'd said no, it wasn't going to happen. And it was all because of this stupid ghost nonsense. He couldn't tell if he was stubborn, or if she was, or if it was both of them, but it didn't matter. She'd said no, and now everything was…heavy.

Someone else's hand fell softly on his shoulder.

He turned his head to the side to see Sam watching him curiously, like she was afraid he might fall apart. He was sort of afraid of that, too, but her hand on his shoulder calmed him infinitesimally. He was especially grateful right now for how overprotective she was. She hadn't been too keen on the idea of him and Valerie together, but she'd been willing, however grudgingly, to meet Val halfway. He knew what a big deal that was for her, and her reluctant blessing had given him hope before everything had been shot to hell.

For a minute, he'd thought that Sam might be happy that it hadn't worked out, but she just looked quiet. Such was the nature of their friendship—when one was sad, so was the other. Today was no different; he felt simultaneously guilty for transferring his pain to her and grateful to have someone to share it with.

He held something out to her. It had been burning a hole in his pocket all day; now he just wanted it out of his sight. A class ring that he'd planned to give to Valerie, complete with an engraving that kept slipping his mind. "Can you hold on to this for me?"

A flicker of emotion crossed Sam's face, but she replaced it quickly with a gentle smile. "Clueless," she murmured, tossing the ring absently up and then catching it in her hand. "Sure." Then she turned, giving him the space she thought he needed.

He watched her go, wondering why he had done what he had just done. Why had he given it to her to hold on to? Why not to Tucker?

Because he wanted it with someone he knew would take care of it—who would take care of him. And there was no one, no one but her.

Hey tragic hero, did you get passed by?
What do all those heathens know?
Have a seat, a cup of wine, and have a good cry
Then it's time to go
Cause you're living up to your own worst cases
Looking for hope in some pretty strange places
And it's a grey morning

As soon as the ring hit her hand, she was dying to throw it away.

Part of her wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, ask him if he really was that blind, ask him why he felt the need to torture her. She was bewildered by his actions.

Throw it away, the whispering voice in her head taunted. Pleaded. Begged. Throw it away.

Danny wanted it out of his sight, and she wanted it out of hers.

But something stopped her. She wasn't sure if it was the guilt of her selfishness or the awareness of her jealousy; most likely it was the look on his face.

Despair.

Sam was no stranger to despair; she and despair had spent a lot of time together. And she was used to it. But Danny…

For all the stress in Danny's life, Sam would have gone so far as to describe him as happy-go-lucky. Somehow he was always ready with a smirk or witty banter, even when things were looking positively awful. Now he just looked like a zombie. If she was bewildered by his actions, then he himself was beaten down by them.

If taking the ring…if keeping it safe…would help, even a little, to chase that look from her best friend's face…

…well, she was used to it, after all. And better her than him—better someone who knew she could handle it. That would be something, however small, that she could do for her hero.

"Sure," she said, tossing the ring absently up and then catching it in her hand. Then she turned, giving him the space she knew he needed, unable to believe that she was walking without falling, unable to believe that she was smiling instead of crying.

There was a big difference between carrying a cross and being nailed to one.

With all you have you still turn your back
You're given every chance
How can you ask for more than that?
But still you have to ask

Tucker watched Sam go, feeling more exhausted than he'd ever felt in his life. Everything was wrong. Everyone was walking in the wrong directions. And he was alone.

His least favorite place to be.

"Dumped him, huh?"

The voice startled him; he turned to see a curious co-ed, watching Danny cradle his head in his hands at the picnic table as Sam pretended that it wasn't killing her to walk away with the ring hiding in her pocket.

"I guess so." He kept his answers monosyllabic. He didn't want to talk about any of it.

"Goth girl making her move?" Like magic, another girl appeared.

"Doubt it," he sighed.

A moment of silence, and then one of them asked, "Do you think he likes brunettes?"

Tucker felt his heart seize, but before he could allow himself to think about it, he did the only thing he knew how to do—turned it into a joke.

"That does it," he said teasingly to his PDA. "You seeing anybody?"

Tucker Foley, the funny guy. But in his own opinion, he was always funniest when no one was around to hear it.

With all you have you still turn your back
You're given every chance
How can you ask for more than that?
But still you have to ask
I really need for you to ask

Valerie Gray stretched her arms happily in her new suit, loving how close it fit, how well it moved with her. She was ready—

But she couldn't help looking back, just once, to see him at the table, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Val knew that look. She knew how that felt.

And somewhere beyond him, Sam had paused in her exit; she seemed to be staring into a middle distance, unsure of where to go next.

Val knew that look. She knew how that felt, too.

Her eyes bounced back to Danny. She'd never seen him look so sad.

Shaking her head at them—at all of it—she walked away briskly, keeping her eyes locked on the road ahead. There was work to be done.

Hey lone ranger, there's a call tonight
So far beneath the stars
Maybe the desert will do you good

Author's Notes:

I think that's one of my new favorite songs. Lyrics to Hey Casanova belong to Duncan Sheik.

I have no idea why I wrote this; I just know that I can't sleep, and now that it's written, maybe…

Maybe.