Lazily pushing forward a beautifully polished horse across the wooden board, Danny smirked, "king me."

A satisfying screech sounded from across the bed, "oh for the love of—! For the last time. We. Are. Play-ing. Chess!" Wes glowered at him, practically pulling strands of red hair out of his scalp.

Danny giggled, looked up through his bangs, his head resting in the palm of his hands, "I know."

Crossing his arms Wes turned his head away, pressing it against Danny's headboard, "I don't know why I'm even talking to you."

Danny shrugged, "because, I'm a blast," he reasoned nonchalantly, "and, you're stuck here."

"Don't remind me," a barely audible grumble responded. Danny smiled, swiping his hand across the bed, he swatted the expensive board away, landing with a resounding thud. The little pieces scattered across the floor, inciting their own small ruckus. He mentally thanked his lucky stars that Vlad hadn't gone out and bought him the glass set, he didn't have the patience to keep such things in one piece.

"So, board games are a bust then?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

Wes glared back at him. He'd been forbidden from spending time on any electronics on account of a mild concussion and Danny had been trying to keep him entertained. "If you followed the rules, then maybe they'd actually be fun."

Shrugging once again, Danny flopped onto his back and gently floated atop thin air. "Eh, I'm not one to stick with the rules."

He could practically hear the eyes roll in the ginger's head. "I'm well aware."

Danny peered over at his guest, holding back a chuckle. Wes was in a particularly sour mood, having been forced to spend his entire day at Fenton-Works. He had reminded him, promptly, at every hour, that he would have rather gone to school.

His father wasn't scheduled to be home for a few more days, he was pretty hard to reach at the time. And, well, the GIW hadn't left his house in a very livable state. It would take at least a week, and that was with Vlad's influence. It was safe to say that, for the first time in Danny's life, he was actually thankful he knew the man.

Letting his eyes wander, he landed on the newspapers thrown across his desk. A grin spread across his face, the man had really come through. Floating over, he grabbed one from the top of the pile, eyes scanning the extensive exposé. It was a small victory, people still lost their lives, but he'd take what he can get. They wouldn't be hurting anyone else.

Setting the paper down, he floated lazily around the room, enjoying being back under his own personal makeshift night sky. Wes began flipping through one of his comics he had lying around. They shared a companionable calm, it was a far better option then the silly arguments the two fell into every time Danny attempted a conversation.

Abruptly, Danny jolted up and dropped his altitude, alarming Wes in the process. Landing rather ungracefully onto the floor, Danny scrambled up and situated himself into his desk chair. Trying hard to seem inconspicuous, he ignored the weird look Wes was shooting him. A few seconds ticked by. Nothing happened.

Wes groaned, "Fenton, wha—"

Just as he was surely about to question Danny's sanity, the door knob turned and in walked Maddie. Concern laced in her eyes.

"Hi Sweetie, are you boys alright?" She asked pleasantly, her signature smile across her face. Danny could see right through it.

"Everything's great mom," Danny replied, flashing her a genuine grin. She smiled back, a bit of warmth returning to her eyes as she gazed at her son. Danny squirmed under the look that somehow switched from aiming at him to going through him without him noticing. It was creepy and filled him with an uncomfortable amount of guilt. She seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts, giving him one last pensive stare before turning to their guest.

"Wes, honey, I spoke to your Father," Maddie started, catching Wes' attention. "He was rather alarmed to hear about your injuries and the impromptu renovation but I assured him he did not have to cut his work short. He'll be here as soon as he can, in the meantime, you can continue staying here as long as you like."

Danny watched as Wes bit his tongue, holding back his automatic response of having to be paid to stay here a minute longer. Instead, the boy swallowed, "Um, Thank you Mrs. Fenton. You really don't have to do this."

"Nonsense, any friend of Danny's is welcome in our home," she cooed, swatting away any protest. Absently looking around the room, she began picking stuff up off the ground. "I'm a parent dear, I couldn't let you wander with those injuries," she insisted.

Her eyes landed on the chess board, bending down to pick it up she looked over and raised a brow towards her son. Danny gave her a sheepish grin before getting up to help her clean up his mess.

Shaking her head fondly, she scooped up various pieces and placed them atop his desk. Once they were done, standing side-by-side, she turned towards him. Looked him up and down, taking in every inch of him. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, a watery smile on her lips.

"Mom?"

With a shuddering breath, Maddie tentatively reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, staring into the crystal blue. Just like she used to do when he was younger. A faraway look came over her as she gently caressed his cheek, "my baby," she whispered inaudibly and pulled him close. Embracing him as if he were to disappear upon a moment's notice.

"Hey, It's alright mom, I'm fine," he tried consoling her, caught a little off guard. They had already gotten through the hugs and kisses when he'd first showed up this morning and wasn't prepared for more. He didn't really know what else he could say.

She nodded, pulling away, "I know sweetie," she mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. "I'm sorry, I'm a mess. Did you boys want any snacks? I made cookies."

Fixing her under a concerned look, Danny frowned. He hated doing this to her. One of these days, he'd tell her. She'd know why. She wouldn't have to wonder or fear that he'd vanish again. And she'd be proud.

It just wasn't the day.

"No mom, I'm good. I was gonna go to bed soon anyway," he fibbed instead. Wes nodded along with him. Maddie folded her arms around her torso, bit her lip, wanting to say more. Not wanting to leave his room.

With a dejected sigh, "alright, have a good night boys. I'll see you in the morning. We'll decide about going to school then."

"Sounds good," they both chimed. She flashed them one last careful smile before slipping out as silently as she'd come in.

He remained frozen, watching the closed door, listening for her footsteps long after they fell beyond human hearing range. She was going down to the lab, she'd probably be there all night. With a small sigh, he slumped over onto his bed.

"Watch it," Wes grumbled, pulling his feet out from under him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, a frown on his face, not bothering to move. Wes let out a heavy annoyed sigh and went back to his comic, leaving Danny to his thoughts.

"Fenton?...Hey, Fenton. Wake up."

Blinking slowly, Danny looked up blearily. Fiery hair invaded his vision. When had Jazz come home? Screwing his eyes shut, he scrunched his brows in confusion. He couldn't even remember falling asleep. "Jazz?"

"Not quite," a distinctly male voice drawled. Definitely not Jazz. Not Tucker either. His survival senses immediately kicked in, he pushed himself up jerkily and looked around in alarm.

He was in his own room. No sign of danger. He had fallen asleep at the foot of his bed.

Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck as he met Wes' less than amused expression. "Uh, I knew that."

"Sure," the boy mumbled while rolling his eyes. He watched Danny stand and stretch, waiting for him to collect himself before inching towards the edge of the bed, his long legs dangling over. "So, uh, where do I sleep?" he asked, a bit awkwardly, "cause I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you."

Dropping his arms from their position over his head, Danny peered towards him with a small smirk, mirth twinkling in his eyes. "Why not?"

Unfazed by the mock hurt tone in Danny's voice, "because, you're a creep."

Chuckling, he headed towards his closet and pulled out his favourite pair of pink pajamas along with some cotton pants and an old raven's t-shirt that was always too long on him. Tossing the T-shirt and pants over to Wes, "you can take the bed, I have a sleeping bag for when Tuck comes over."

"Fine with me," he heard the boy mumble as he left to brush his teeth.

Minutes later found the pair of them settled into their respective beds, however, all remnants of prior sleepiness somehow evaded his grasp. Danny lay prone on his back, his hands folded behind his head. He could tell by Wes's breathing pattern that he too was still awake. Turning so that he was on his side facing his temporary roommate, he smiled widely. "This has got to be some kind of milestone in our friendship," he commented, causing Wes to open his eyes to glare. "Four slumber parties in a row? That's a new record."

He couldn't quite explain it, but messing with this guy was a whole new level of fun. He watched as facial features twisted into and incredulous glower and barely held back his giggle.

"If you call what we've gone through for the past few nights a 'party,' you're more psychotic than I thought."

Holding his gaze, Danny's grin widened, reaching his eyes. "Didn't deny we were friends, so I'll take that as a victory."

With a loud huff, Wes flipped over onto his other side, facing away from him. He couldn't stand that obnoxious grin. "As if I'd ever be friends with a ticking time bomb, I'm not suicidal."

Left staring at the boy's turned back, the grin slowly slipped off his face. A weird sinking feeling moved though his gut and settled, unwelcomed, in the pit of his stomach. Laying back flat onto his back, he tried to swallow away the unnerving emotions. He stayed quiet, his eyes glued to the ceiling. Listening to the kitchen clock tick on. However, the noise wasn't nearly loud enough to drown out Wes' words ringing deafeningly in his head.

"How are you so sure?"

His question hung in the air, and for a moment, Danny thought Wes had actually fallen asleep, despite the irregular breathing. Then, he heard the ruffling of sheets and looked up to see a slightly confused looking boy sitting up in his bed, "about what?"

"Me," he elaborated softly, "that I'm somehow the bad guy?"

Wes stared at him, judging the odd crack in his voice. "Never said you were the bad guy."

He scoffed, shooting the ginger his own eye roll, "a bomb is pretty bad if you ask me." He didn't even know why he was bothering, it was hopeless. He'd always known Wes didn't think much of him, so why should he care now?

"Nah, not always bad… but definitely dangerous. Bound to erupt and destroy anything in its wake," Wes explained. It was something the boy often told him. He was dangerous. Danny knew that, god did he know that, but Wes didn't. Not really.

All he'd ever tried to do was protect the town, although it didn't always work out that way, he'd never done anything to warrant such a strong belief. Not yet anyway.

More so reminding himself of the fact than convincing Wes, "I'm not evil. Being a ghost doesn't make you evil." The clock ticked on, swallowing the raw, pleading sound of his voice. Scattering it through the air in its insignificance to the sounds of the world around him.

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Wes lay the side of his head atop of them and surveyed him. His eyes strangely softened, "I know, Danny," he whispered.

Taken aback, Danny gaped at him, sharing a silent moment. His tone had held such sincerity, it was disconcerting. But impossible not to believe.

"But, you're no saint," Wes continued once the odd moment passed, "It would be naïve, and a little unfair, to believe someone with as much power as you will always do the right thing. No one's perfect, there's no such thing as a super hero."

The apprehension slowly dissipated, replaced by a feeling he couldn't explain. The tension in his muscles loosened, the knot in his stomach tightened, a warmth spread throughout his chest, his mouth ran dry, the left corner of his lip threatened to curl up. He was left overwhelmed yet paradoxically calm.

Because, somehow, this boy understood.

He could see it in his eyes. A depth he would have never anticipated from his own friends and family, let alone from someone who barely knew him.

"One of these days, that secret of yours is going to blow up in your face and leave a mess you can't fix."

Letting out a deep sigh, Danny looked away and closed his eyes. Wes had always been smarter than anyone gave him credit for. He wondered if a strong sense of intuition counted as a superpower all on its own.

"And exposing me is somehow going to prevent that?"

Sensing that they were no longer on shaky ground, Wes snorted, "no, not at all." Laying back down, he produced a long screeching yawn, "I'm doing this for purely selfish reasons."

The smile finally found its way back onto Danny's face, a welcoming warmth growing from his icy core, "Thanks."

"For what?" Wes mumbled, sleepiness present in his heavy voice.

Shrugging the best he could, despite Wes' eyes being shut, "not believing in me. It's nice," Danny admitted softly, "less pressure."

Wes seemed to contemplate whether or not to accept the appreciation. Finally letting a small chuckle out, with a fond smile that he would never admit to, "whatever, dork."

The grin never left, only grew warmer. Whether Wes liked it or not, he was a great friend. He kept him grounded in reality. Made him feel ironically more human than he felt in years.

Lost in thought, Danny idly counted the seconds as they ticked by. Curious, he lifted his head to glance back at the neon digital display on his bedside table. Almost a quarter to one in the morning. Debating with himself for a moment, he pushed away the covers. He wasn't falling asleep any time soon anyway. "Hey, I'm gonna slip out for a bit. Mom's probably gonna come by at some point, I'll try to be back by then, but do you think you can hold down the fort?"

A low groan sounded before a pillow was placed over Wes' ear. "Yeah, yeah. I'll just tell her you jumped out the window. It'll keep her busy for a while, I'm sure."

Shaking his head, "you're hilarious," Danny drawled as he summoned the raw energy waiting just beneath the surface. Wes pulled the edge of the pillow over his eyes in response to the bright flash.

Lifting up, he dived, head first out the window, relishing the cool wind as it embraced him. Pausing for a second, Danny floated there and just took a moment to feel alive. A pleasant fuzz curled up in his brain. Turning around, he poked his head pack through and smirked at the amusing form of his gangly friend beneath his pillows, "G'night."

"Night."

Curling his fingers through the smooth dry layer of sand, he grabbed a fistful before watching the gold grains escape their temporary prison. Repeating the motion, he let his mind wander, watching as he gradually uncovered the moist layers underneath. He could feel the moisture seep up and chill his knees through his jeans, but he paid no mind. It felt kind of nice. Grounding.

He wasn't expecting company tonight, it wasn't unwelcome, but he knew not to anticipate it. Nonetheless, he kept alert, just on the off chance that Phantom sought refuge in their meetings as much as he did. For that reason, and that reason alone, he wasn't at all surprised when he felt the subtle drop of temperature and caught the soft whoosh of air from behind him.

A small smile formed on his lips but he didn't bother to turn around, waiting instead for the ghost to make his presence known. He heard the sound of light footsteps approaching and willed himself not to tense up as they grew louder. It was only Phantom. He trusted the guy with his life, they were friends. There was no reason to be anxious.

The steps stopped, there was a stumbling sound, a solid bump and a muffled wince before a body settled into the sand a few feet in front of him. Smirking at the tell-tale clumsy sounds, Buster shook his head. Dropping the last of his current fistful, he glanced up to greet his white-haired companion.

However, a boy with sleep tousled raven hair clad in worn out pink pajamas and a warm toothy grin sat in front of him instead.

"Hey dude, how'd your day go?" Danny asked casually, leaning onto the palm of his hand as he drew circles in the sand with the other. Completely comfortable in the situation.

Buster blinked, greatly put off by his presence. These late night meetings had always been their secret. His and Phantom's. He hadn't even told Arthur.

Now, watching Danny sitting there in Phantom's place, he realized it had never been much of a secret after all. Danny had always known about the sleepless nights. He'd always known the reason behind the stifled yawns and the dark bags, but had been nice enough to never point it out in front of the others. Every little piece of his heart that he had poured out to Phantom, It was always Danny on the receiving end.

Noting the lack of response and the slight apprehensive stare, Danny chuckled nervously, "So showing up as human was a bad idea, huh?"

"No. Just surprising," Buster stumbled, blushing when he realized how long he had left the boy hanging. "Kind of weird, but not bad."

It had not even been a week ago that he found this boy's bleeding body a few feet from where they sat. 'Weird,' was underselling it. It was downright unsettling. He had thought he had come into terms with the situation yesterday after they risked their lives together. But, looking at the boy now, he could almost convince himself that he had imagined the whole ordeal. There was not a bullet wound in sight. His weight rested casually on his wounded knee as if it had never been gushing blood. The bruises that littered his face had vanished without a trace. Weird didn't even come close to describing it.

Scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "So, how'd your parents react?" He asked, in an attempt to fall back into a normal conversation. If that, at this point, was even possible.

Danny merely shrugged, completely ignoring the awkward tension. "As expected I guess, they held on and wouldn't let me go. Literally. For at least two hours. There were a lot of tears and demands for an explanation…"

Even though he knew since the whole gang had left Tucker's attic that morning that the Fenton parents would no longer be suffering, actually hearing about it lifted a whole new weight off his shoulder. "What'd you tell 'em?"

"…You know, fed them some story. Made the GIW look like complete pigs for chasing and forcing an innocent kid into hiding and practically blowing up Wes' house in the process. Nothing too far off."

There it was again. The half-truths, they were really getting on his nerves. "I guess you're pretty used to that now, huh? The lying?" He didn't mean for it to come out so harsh, but he didn't have a very strong hold over his emotions at the moment.

"Uh…yeah. I guess it comes with the territory. You gain one thing, you lose the other." unfortunately that meant his sense of honesty and loyalty towards his parents.

Scrunching his brows, Buster withheld the long sigh. It wasn't like Buster himself hadn't ever lied before. Heck, he lied all the time. He had lied to his aunt and uncle just this morning.

But he trusted Phantom. He had thought they had a mutual understanding of sorts. He'd only ever told the ghost the truth, nothing more and nothing less. And in return, Buster had believed every little thing that came out Phantom's mouth, would've sworn by it. But now, he didn't know what to believe.

Danny frowned, looked over and noticed a plastic shovel and pail that had probably been abandoned by some kindergarteners a long time ago. Picking it up, he began filling the scratched red pail with moist sand. "You have to believe I tried my best to never lie to you Buster," he stated once he flipped the pail over to reveal a perfect cylindrical shape, looking at him straight in the eye.

Buster couldn't stand that look. The blue eyes were far worse than the green. The innocent conviction had fooled him too many times in the past. He glanced away, opting to watch the swing casually sway in the wind. He listened as Danny sighed and began filling the pail once more.

He was building a sand castle. Such a childish, normal thing to do. Something that he would have labeled as 'typical Danny' just a month ago. It was kind of funny, he would've laughed and joined in or, at least, offered a teasing comment. But, now it was just strange. He couldn't comprehend that the boy capable of taking on dozens of grown men on his own was the same one plopped in front of him, building a damn sand castle.

He stayed quiet, Danny didn't seem to mind. He carried on scraping, scooping and dumping. His actions were strangely methodical yet erratic all at the same time.

"You're alive," Buster stated quietly. It wasn't a question, just a simple observation. A deduction… an acceptance. Relief.

Danny flinched, unmistakable pain flashed in his eyes before he set the pail down, biting his lip as he nodded, "…yeah." His voice cracked slightly. Buster could tell he had anticipated this topic, knew the questions were coming.

Feeling uncomfortable, Buster took the time to examine the structure that Danny had built between them. It was amazing, much more detailed than anything he'd ever built. Of course, it was rather small, but beautiful nonetheless.

"You're somehow a mutant hybrid cross between ghost and human." He didn't know for sure, but it was all he could come up with after hearing Danny's argument with the scientist. It had been a journey to even entertain the idea that the ghostly hero was not dead. Even if he desperately wanted to believe it. The more he thought about it though, the more it made sense.

"Yeah," Danny chuckled nervously, "I prefer 'half-ghost' though. Less gross sounding." He plastered a smile on his face, trying to use humor to skirt around an obviously touchy subject.

However, Buster couldn't stop himself. Danny had promised him answers. "They were trying to make more of you."

Nodding his head, "I don't know where they got the idea…they weren't the ones who created me," he explained in a soft whisper. "Half-ghosts are supposed to be a secret. We aren't supposed to be possible."

He decided to ignore Danny's use of plural, opting to notice the self-deprecating tone instead. Raising his eyebrows in slight confusion, he eyed Danny carefully.

He knew they couldn't have been the ones who created him, the scientist wouldn't have been so freaked out by Danny's powers if they had. But…who had created him? How was he even 'created'?

He didn't think he should ask, it sounded too insensitive. Dehumanizing.

He'd read enough comic books and watched one too many movies to have a couple of crazy ideas of his own.

Since Buster didn't respond, too lost in thought, Danny shifted his attention away once again. He began strengthening the walls of his castle, smoothening them out delicately. Buster's eyes followed his movements.

Unable to stop himself, he scooted forward and began helping him. If only to give himself something to do other than think.

He was insanely curious and he knew Danny knew exactly what Buster wanted to know. He was sure Danny wasn't born this way, his parents would be aware of their son's ghostly abilities otherwise… But Danny kept his mouth sealed tight. Only talking when spoken to.

His silence was unnerving. Phantom was usually the one who kept the conversation going.

The sound of hands against sand, mixed with the howling and yipping of a few dogs was all that occupied the air until the castle's structure was completely reinforced. Shifting back, he watched as Danny twirled a stick between his fingers, not meeting Buster's gaze.

His brain hurt. He couldn't take this.

"That night," Buster began, his voice already hoarse from just the thought, "when we found her…" Danny looked up, his face carefully blank, "you told me some stuff about death…you made it sound like it was from experience."

The ghost's wise words spoken that fateful night had been running through his mind from the moment he realized this boy still had a beating heart. It shook him from his core that those consoling words might have been mere meaningless sounds. Hallow and empty.

Swallowing painfully, "…I…" Danny croaked, trailing off, finding no words, having no retaliation to the not-so-subtle accusation thrown his way.

They stared at each other, Danny appearing oddly defeated.

Looking down, Danny bit his lip, contemplating something as he dug the stick deep into the ground and began carving a wide moat.

Buster felt a vice grip on his heart. He was still keeping secrets. It was a given, everyone had a right to their own secrets. But there was an explanation hidden behind those eyes.

If Danny would just tell him…he would accept that the boy had lied to protect himself. He could take the truth. He just wanted the truth for once.

Yet, Danny had done so much for him. He had risked everything to avenge a women he didn't even know. He didn't owe Buster anything. Didn't really have to explain.

But they were supposed to be friends.

Phantom was one of his best friends, Danny hadn't been far behind.

When had his life ever gotten so complicated that he considered a ghost-human hybrid as not one, but two of his best friends?

He wanted to trust him again. To believe he wasn't lying now. Sure, he had lied to him that night, he could come to terms with that. He could leave it in the past. Danny had done it to console him, to make him feel better.

But what was the point if none of what he said we real?

What if his mom's spirit hadn't moved on? What if she was waiting for him?

He wanted to slap himself across the face.

His twisting thoughts were going to award him a one way trip to the mental hospital.

It was all just too difficult. His life, from the moment he returned home from that blasted ski trip, had been nothing more than empty promises. Half-truths sugar-coating the bitter reality. False hope…

Amity Park was his fresh start. His life here wasn't supposed to end up that way too.

"I just keep thinking that once this is all over, my life will finally be back to normal," he breathed quietly, "I'll be back to my old happy and carefree self." Danny looked up, his hand halting the incessant gorging around the castle.

"But it doesn't work that way, does it?… they'll find her body soon." he shuddered at the thought, noticing Danny wince in sympathy. "It's just a matter of time till they identify her and call my dad. There'll be a funeral. An actual one with a casket. Except a closed casket and not opened like she always wanted," a small tear rolled down his cheek but he didn't bother wiping it away, much too tired to care. "Then, it will all be real. And nothing will ever be the same."

Danny inhaled deeply, raking his hand through thick hair. "I can't wrap my mind around her being gone," Buster whispered, "She really was my whole world." He didn't offer any words of comfort, merely placing a gentle hand on Buster's knee and squeezing slightly. Buster was strangely grateful for his silence.

"I'm only fourteen, how am I going to survive without her?" The air around them dropped a couple of degrees. He subconsciously drew in closer to himself and away from Danny. "I didn't realize how much I actually depended on her…We had so many made up holidays…but she was the one who remembered them. I'm terrible with dates. It's pointless now anyway." He was rambling now, but he couldn't care less.

"Everything was not supposed to end up this much of a mess. I was supposed to go to high school with Arthur and the others. Mom was supposed to be there at my graduation. She was going to teach me how to drive, even though it terrified her. She probably would have made me wear a bunch of protective padding, but she would have still taught me. She was supposed to take me on that alien-hunting road trip I bugged her about…" he choked back a sob, "She was supposed to plan my wedding! She was supposed to help me raise the grandchildren she always wanted. I was supposed to watch her grow old and make fun of her bad knees and gray hair….how can I even think about moving on? How can I live without her?"

Angry tears began to flow freely from his eyes. He hadn't seen that outburst coming, but now that the words were out he couldn't stop the pain. Nothing would ever be okay. His life was over the moment those monsters took his mom away from him. There were many more ways of ending one's life than murder.

Danny had him fixed under an intense look, at a point of almost looking through him. Something flickered in his eyes and his resolve crumbled. With a soft sigh he gently picked up a weathered brown leaf that had been wedged into the crack of the sandbox frame. Holding it between his fingers he stared at it as it slowly became encased in a thin layer of shimmering crystal.

Buster wiped at his eyes, sniffling as he watched Danny place the frosted leaf at the castle's door, bridging a fragile path over the deep moat.

"When I was fourteen, I died."

Even the dogs stopped barking. Buster's heart stopped. His throat constricting. The silence was deafening.

No.

He wanted the truth…but now, he didn't think he could handle it.

Then Danny smiled, a soft apologetic look and shook his head slightly, "It wasn't for long, it may have been a few seconds or a couple minutes."

His heart beat slowly picked back up as he struggled to comprehend the statement, eyes landing on Danny's, only now noticing as they glowed a lighter shade of blue. "Sam and Tuck were too afraid to check for a pulse at first. They still think I was only unconscious, but being electrocuted at such a high voltage as I was…it shouldn't have been humanly possible for me to live." But he did live. He came back to life. Buster trembled, grasping at the unspoken words.

"I never told anyone what really happened that day," he whispered, swirling flecks of ice around his fingers. Pointing towards the main tower, a crystal roof appearing atop it. "Except you."

"I could have stayed, could had relented and moved on. I could feel it. But there was something holding me back, maybe it was the ectoplasm infusing into my body or just my fear of the unknown. I never figured it out. But I woke up, alive and breathing. And then…my life fell apart." He said it so casually, Buster almost missed that last part of the statement.

His mind buzzed, aware that Danny had just told him part of Phantom's origin story. Albeit, marginal, enough for him to understand. He had actually died.

"I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for the longest time, jumping at every mention or reminder of what had become of me. I just wanted it to go away. I hated it… I had always been afraid of ghosts."

Green light joined the crystal swirls at Danny's fingertips as he carefully grazed the small openings they had poked through the sandy walls, creating mosaic-like glass windows.

"Sam and Tucker thought it was kind of cool. They were convinced it was a good thing…I mean, who else could say that their best friend had super powers, right?" he cracked a smile, but the pain in his eyes sucked the humor out of his tone. "But I hated it. I wasn't Danny Fenton anymore and I could never really be him again. I wasn't even human."

"But now, you're Phantom. A hero, everyone loves you," he tried. Hating how broken he looked. Danny had done so much for him, for the town. He had always seemed to like his powers…

Danny chuckled, continuing to fill the windows with make-shift glass. "I was supposed to go through high school with my biggest worries being asking out Paulina, staying away from Dash and studying for finals without crashing from a massive caffeine high. I was supposed to keep up the Fenton name and get straight As, I was supposed to be an Astronaut. But I couldn't do any of that, not when I was the only one who could do something about the ghosts. Not when people could die because I'd rather battle acne." His tone held no malice, there was no accusation, just a soft but deep sadness.

"You've always seemed so happy."

"I didn't say I wasn't happy," he countered, confusing Buster. The aged sadness in his voice was still there, yet Buster caught something else. Acceptance.

"The ghosts are a great outlet for my frustration. And, flying is more than a little amazing…" His eyes lit up a subtle green, a small smile on his face as he unleashed a steady but small stream of liquid ectoplasm, filling the moat with its toxic color. He looked up to meet his eyes, giving a look that made him realize what Danny was trying to do. He wasn't giving him his sob story. He was trying to comfort him.

"I have my moments, but I'm not depressed. I'm thankful for what I have, I'd be stupid to take that for granted." He gazed down at his creation, smirking slightly as he proudly took in the beauty. It was truly something to marvel at. Something no one else but Danny had the power to create. Buster had seen his ice powers in action multiple times. He knew the kind of damage they were capable of. There was something astonishing about witnessing such power used in such a mundane fashion.

"Happiness isn't always getting what you wanted, it's about cherishing what you have." he stated solemnly, staring at him seriously before a slow grin cracked the expression, Buster mirroring it. Letting out a small giggle, "I know I sound like a cheesy inspirational poster right now, but it's true," he concurred, holding up his hand. "Sometimes life doesn't work out like you thought it would, it takes its own course. It's rarely ever fair… Take my word for that one," he sighed, giving him a pointed side look.

"Most days I hate my powers, I just want to be normal again…But whether I like it or not, they make me who I am. A stronger person." The bright ring of light, that he was slowly becoming accustomed to, quickly passed over the boy, relieving him of gravity's burden as he slowly gained distance from the ground. "And admittedly, they can be pretty cool." There was a genuine grin on his tanned features now as he made a show of flexing his powerful muscles. Despite Buster's melancholy mood, he couldn't help but to return it.

Danny flew up, looping a few times above him before coming down and gently swooping him into the air. The tension and despair disappeared for the moment as they shot above the tree tops. Nothing but the familiar chilly but pleasant feeling washing over him. After a few minutes of silent flight, Danny stopped and gently descended onto a roof. It took him a moment to realize it was the roof of Buster's own house.

Sitting side-by-side, feet dangling over the edge, they both watched the twinkling stars.

"You can go through life counting everything that went wrong, replaying the torment and cursing the universe," Danny stated softly, "you have every right to." He caught the longing look the ghost boy had in his eyes as he stared at the open night. "Or you can move past it," he straightened up, tearing his eyes away to give him a meaningful glance, "all it takes is a little change in perspective." Letting go of his ghost form, Danny smiled wistfully, swinging his bare feet in the cool air.

"I'm not saying anything will magically be okay…It takes time, and sometimes the wounds never heal. Even with super healing," he shrugged faintly, "but they get easier to bear."

Drawing his feet up, Danny swiveled around to face him, resting his chin on his knee. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, moving on isn't the same as forgetting or letting go…it's more like swerving and facing the new, inconvenient bend in the road. Adapting to it."

Buster nodded thoughtfully, looking off into the distance. "Finding a new normal?" he asked, a small crack in his voice.

"Finding a new normal," Danny agreed softly, a tiny smile reaching his eyes.

Despite the comfort the ghost's words brought him, he didn't really feel better. The pain was still as prominent as ever. But Danny was right.

There was nothing wrong with trying to move on.

Danny didn't say anything else, but made no attempt to take him inside, staying right by his side. Buster sighed and lay down on the rough shingled surface and closed his eyes, emotionally drained for the night.

Judging from the shifting that sounded a few moments later, Danny was now in a similar position beside him. He couldn't help but be reminded of the Christmas party they spent in an almost identical position all that time ago.

His friendship with Danny had changed so much since that night, it was almost unbelievable how much had happened since then.

How much Danny had actually done, how many times he had saved his life.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was dubbed the town hero?" he asked quietly, a laugh in his voice from the memory.

Danny chuckled at the seemingly random question, "No…"

"It was a bit of an accident…the cat in the tree just wanted my ice cream," he laughed, "I was just in the right place at the right time."

Thoroughly intrigued, and rather amused, Danny snorted. "Still, pretty noble of you. I'm so proud."

"Yeah well, wait till you hear the rest. I was sort of freaked out from the sudden attention, I didn't really do anything heroic you know? That was until the fame got to my head…"

...THE END