"There must have been some point in time, evolutionarily, when the tear became something that automatically set off empathy and compassion in another.
Actually being able to cry emotionally, and being able to respond to that, is a very important part of being human."
- Michael Trimble, Behavioral Neurologist
November 14, 2014. 6:21 pm.
Humans never learn.
Even plagued by the fear of their own mortality, even with nearly ten years to get their act together – ten years of destruction, of heartbreak, of never-ending loss – they made the same mistakes over and over again.
He watched the teens clumsily climb over the ruined foundation of an old skyscraper, the walls of the ruined building now a meager three feet tall. Two boys with blonde hair, one girl taller than the others. Too far away to hear – but their gestures showed their excitement, their embarrassingly carefree nature reminding him too much of how he used to be.
It enraged him to no end.
Surely they must have parents, siblings, friends – people who should care for them when they were gone. And of course, they would care… for a while.
But the world keeps on turning, doesn't it?
All those parents, siblings, so-called friends – they would all move on. Selfishly, they would keep living their lives. And why shouldn't they? Their precious teenagers had chosen to go on a little field trip outside the ghost shield. If these three didn't care about their lives, why should their families be bothered to remember them?
Some days he felt more human than all of them.
How ironic that the only person with enough of a heart to mourn doesn't have one at all.
Sam. Tucker. Jazz. Mom. Dad.
Not a single day, not a single tortured minute went by when he didn't think of them.
He used to be shocked at the world's utter indifference. After all, they were his world. They deserved to be remembered. But all humans ever did was tell him to move on. Worst of all, his family hadn't done a single thing to deserve their cruel fates – unlike these selfish, negligent kids.
Rage swirled in his chest. They didn't care about their lives? Fine.
Humans may never learn, but he did. And he'd learned that nobody would truly miss them.
He charged up an ecto-blast and took aim.
January 9, 2005. 9:01 pm.
It hurts.
Ectoplasm splattered onto the ground, pouring out of his body. This was new – it normally leaked out in an oddly comforting rhythm. After all, steady, pulsing streams from an injury meant he still had a heart. It meant he was still half-human. Not this time.
Why does it always have to hurt?
He fell to his hands and knees. Ghostly smoke curled around his body. More ectoplasm splashed onto the floor.
It hurt – but he didn't care about the gaping holes in his abdomen.
Danny keened – a guttural, animalistic sound that tore through his vocal chords. He thought this would make it go away – why hadn't it gone away? He was so tired of waking up every day in tears. He was growing more hopeless by the day.
No. He didn't care about the raw stinging in his useless body. No injury could hurt him anymore. Nothing compared to the pain of losing his family.
Danny screamed until all the air left his lungs. He coughed, ectoplasm finding its way from his lungs into his mouth and dribbling down his chin. He looked up, roughly wiping his mouth. The Ghost Gauntlets shimmered temptingly on the ground a few feet in front of him.
If he still felt the same as Danny Phantom, then maybe…
That's it.
Danny leaned forward and grabbed the oversized gloves. He slipped them on and floated into the air. He set his sights on the unconscious Masters, who was slumped over limply in the corner. A maniacal grin grew on Danny's face as he pieced his impulsive, desperate plan together.
Who could be more uncaring than Vlad? The man who only took him in just so he could have the messed up half-ghost son he always wanted? Vlad didn't care about the Fentons. He didn't care about Sam or Tucker. He definitely didn't care about Danny.
That's all Danny wanted. To stop caring.
November 21, 2014. 9:12 am.
He had to admit it. Encasing Amity Park in a ghost shield was clever.
If Valerie Gray hadn't come up with that little plan, Amity Park would have undoubtedly have ceased to exist years ago.
But all of that was going to change.
Years of experimentation and preparation had led up to this day. Now finally, he was ready.
He wondered if Valerie would notice the date. The ten-year anniversary of his family's death. Maybe he got his flair for the dramatic from Plasmius. He would have chuckled if his heart didn't ache so much at the memory of his family.
He had gotten a lot from Plasmius – their personalities had mingled in ways that still surprised, delighted, and enraged him to this day. He'd recently deduced that the part of him that was once Plasmius had to be the reason he missed his mom the most of all. Sometimes it even delivered flashes of new memories about her, memories he thought were long gone.
A glimpse of his mom deep in thought during a chemistry lesson. A flash of a delighted scream when his mom's favorite song came on at a fraternity party. Laughing with his parents during a Spirit Club meeting when yet another vapid cheerleader showed up thinking their club was about school spirit.
He looked up at the sun. From where it hung in the sky, it was mid-morning. No time to get distracted. It was time.
Regardless, there was no point in trying to differentiate Phantom and Plasmius' personalities anymore. He was something new – an amalgamation of both of them.
Only Phantom and Plasmius together would be able to accomplish this.
He flew downward and phased through the ruins of Elmerton to his hideout underground. He approached his computer, flicking the communicator on. The small indicator bulb on his camera lit up green.
Showtime.
"Hello, Valerie."
January 9, 2005. 9:07 pm.
The physical changes were painful, but he was no stranger to the searing burn of his DNA getting ripped apart and pieced back together.
The mental fusion was another story. Instantaneously, over forty years of memories crammed themselves inside his head. He knew he was screaming but he couldn't hear himself. He felt like his brain was going to burst.
Even worse, Danny was wrong. Danny was so, so wrong.
Vlad cared more than he could have thought possible. It was like losing Jack and Maddie… Dad? Mom? All over again. His heart felt like a cavern that had opened up in his chest cavity. He found himself missing them in entirely new ways. Hours spent pacing by the phone, wondering how to apologize to his college friends for his extended absence. Wondering how to tell them the truth about his ghost half. Would they accept him? Or would he always be alone? His years of fondness for Jack, his best friend, which had only soured when he grounded him for fighting with Jazz. Wait, no, that wasn't right…
He felt like every blood vessel in his head was exploding all at once. He was so sad, no, angry, no… this was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He just wanted to stop hurting. God, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Maddie, Jack…
And what was he doing?
Sniveling in the corner, crying for a mom that would never hear his pleas ever again. His heart panged with sympathy. Poor boy. He missed her too. After all, who would know how to mourn better than –
"Please! Stop! Don't hurt me!"
His expression soured. He leaned in, hissing in the teen's face. "Your family is dead and all you can think of is yourself?"
The boy covered his face, curling in on himself.
His thoughts screamed at him, disjointed and angry.
The poor boy never had a chanceHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT THEMWhy can't I just move onHE'S SELFISHStop and thinkSHUT UPYou never listenIT'S YOUR FAULT THEY'RE GONE
He howled. He couldn't take it. And it was all Danny's fault.
Rage dyed his vision red.
He struck.
November 21, 2014. 11:03 am.
He soared over Amity Park, surveying the damages. It was bittersweet – he knew most of the population was hiding underground, but at least he was able to inflict an ounce of the loss this wretched town had inflicted on his family.
He cackled. He wished he could see their hopeless faces as they trudged back to their destroyed homes. As if they knew what it was to be truly hopeless. He shot a few extra ghost rays at a mostly-intact building, grinning as it crumbled. The city was in ruins.
Everything except for…
Well, well, well.
FentonWorks. Who knew that decrepit old building had it in her?
He sailed towards the old rowhouse. A dot of red and silver stood in the middle of the road, next to a few civilians.
He grinned, exposing his sharp teeth. Valerie Gray? Out in the open? This day just kept getting better and better.
"…the last time I saw you alive. The big explosion at the Nasty Burger, you, Tucker, Danny's family…" Valerie's voice shook.
He turned invisible and hovered nearby. Why in God's name was she talking about-
Oh.
Sam. Tucker.
They looked the same as the last time he saw them alive. His heart screamed for him to fly to them, to hold them and never let them go. But he knew his best friends weren't here to pop by for an innocent chat. Enough people knew about his past to figure out his emotional weaknesses. They were pawns in something. Someone was using them to get to him.
"And it was all your fault!" The ghost hunter took aim at… Well. This day really was interesting, wasn't it?
He faded into sight and shot a quick ecto-blast at the woman, knocking her off her feet. "Actually, that was me."
His eyes fell to the form of the young ghost boy, curled in on himself in one of Valerie's nets. Just as pathetic as he remembered. "And you, eventually."
God, did he really used to be so callous with the lives of his friends? Did Danny think twice before dragging his closest friends into whatever mess this was? They really felt like they were invincible as teens. How wrong they had been.
January 10, 2005. 7:10 am.
He had tried to sleep. He couldn't.
How could you sleep after murdering yourself?
So he stayed up. His coalescence of a mind seemed to sort itself out as the minutes ticked by – more and more of Danny Fenton's thoughts and memories floated at the surface, while many of Vlad Masters' experiences faded into oblivion. Was it because Danny was younger? Because Phantom had initiated the merging process?
He had a feeling he would never know. The only two scientists who had a chance at figuring it out died months ago.
And now he was left with no home, no family, no friends.
He had flown all night to reach her. There was only one person left who could possibly understand, possibly know what to do. Did he want to un-merge? He didn't know. But he knew he shouldn't have killed Danny Fenton. He knew he didn't want to be alone.
He hovered outside Valerie's apartment. Any minute now, he knew her ghost sensors would alert her to the ecto-entity outside her home.
Sure enough, her bedroom window slid open and she rocketed out on her hoverboard, guns firing up with a whine.
He held his hands out in a gesture of peace. "Valerie, wait! Please." His voice cracked, coming out deeper than it would have as Danny Phantom. "I need your help, I don't know what to-"
She shot him out of the air. He tumbled toward the ground for a dazed moment before regaining his composure and righting himself. Huh. Typically, he would have taken longer to recover.
He tried again, desperate. "Valerie! It's Danny!"
She soared down to him, aiming her weapon. "I know it's you, Phantom. You can't fool me with a new hairdo and a voice drop."
"No, you don't understand! It's Danny Fenton, it's always been-"
She pulled the trigger. This time, he hit the ground with a crack.
"You keep his name out of your mouth, ghost! That boy has been through enough!"
Despite its low success rate, he held up a hand again as she flew down to shoot him again. He needed her to understand. Her reply showed that she cared about what Danny was going through. And she had to be hurting too. She had dated Tucker, right? Or wait, is that just something Vlad thought?
"Valerie, I need your help. I really, really messed up. I'd give anything to talk to Sam or Tucker or Jazz or my parents but I can't!" His voice cracked.
She aimed the gun at his face. "You're Danny Fenton, huh?" She snapped. "Prove it!"
He reached for that piece of humanity inside him, the one that he tugged on to shift back into his human form. He put a hand on his chest. Nothing was there. Of course nothing was there. That's… that's right, why would he be able to change? Why would he still have a human half?
He…
He swallowed. "I can't, but please-"
She fired.
November 21, 2014. 11:15 am.
Danny Fenton grinned as he picked up the discarded necklace. "They took off their time medallions! That returned them to their time period just like Box Lunch and Skulktech."
The older ghost rolled his eyes. They were in the middle of a fight and the brat still took the time to pause and give some asinine exposition to absolutely nobody. He was glad he abandoned the tendency to talk to himself years ago.
"Tucker and Sam made it out alive."
And why did it matter if Sam and Tucker made it out alive? If they died now, at least their deaths would have meant something. They would have had purpose. Maybe it'd be easier to cope knowing that his friends died doing something they cared about, something they knew carried risk, rather than a senseless explosion at the Nasty Burger. Danny should have been in that diner too, if he weren't so busy abandoning his family to fight the ghost of the week.
He glowered at the teen. Senseless deaths that could have been entirely prevented if Danny just thought to think of anything except his little hero complex for more than five seconds.
Danny Fenton grabbed his time medallion. "Which means I can-"
The ghost snatched the boy's arm, infuriated. Even now, Danny only ever cared about himself. "What?" He pulled Danny into the air. The teen hung there pathetically. "Go back with them? They're doomed anyway."
This kid didn't deserve a loving family. All he did was try to save his own skin and look like the hero. He knew he used to be ungrateful but staring his past-self dead in the face disgusted him. Why shouldn't the teen have to suffer just like he did a decade ago? Just like he suffered every day? This halfwit didn't get to have a happy ending. And he was going to make sure of it.
He snatched the medallion from the boy's neck, tearing the band.
"And you aren't going anywhere if you can't remove your time medallion."
January 14, 2005. 10:12 am.
He'd tried everything.
It seemed like everyone had moved on but him.
Nothing made the hurting stop.
So maybe it was time to stop running from the pain.
A.N.: Happy holidays, Phandom! This is for the Danny Phantom Reddit Discord Server's Secret Santa exchange. If you'd like an invitation to the server, please feel free to DM me! My gift-receiver (who is an aspiring young writer) asked for a motivational story involving Dan Phantom. Here you go, Kane! Thanks for always sharing your stories with me and sharing your radiant self with the server, and I hope you enjoy this one! I'm glad we met! The second and final will be up on December 24th.
The quote in the intro is from Mandy Oaklander's article "Why Do We Cry?" in TIME Magazine.
Thank you to my beta readers, hazama_d20 (on AO3) and indigoGBA (on Twitter).
All my best,
- Ani