When Will was very small she would have nightmares. The ghosts and goblins under her bed were coming to eat her. She would jump off her bed and run to her grandmother's room, where the elderly woman would talk to her and comfort her until she finally fell asleep again.

When she was 16 she saw the first mention of Danny Phantom on the nightly news. She didn't believe it of course. Her mind was filled with atoms and elements and acceleration and velocity. The ghosts and goblins had long since ducked their heads and hid away.

Her grandmother died before she graduated from the University of Chicago. Danny Phantom was still in the back of her mind, there, nagging, giving her hope to see her grandmother again. But of course she never would. Because ghosts weren't real, of course.

Will decided that if she ever got out of this alive she would never, ever pick up a firearm again. Danny had given her what appeared to be a silver gun with green tubes running down the sides. It shot green blasts, like a more precise version of the energy the ghosts gave off. Her job was to attack the ghost from behind while Danny took the front. When he determined the ghost was weak enough he would give the signal for her to suck it in into the thermos.

This was not as easy as it sounded. While shooting the monster's back wasn't hard (it was paying most of its attention on Danny), the other ghosts would keep rushing toward her with open jaws and blazing eyes. She shot each of them in turn, getting used to aiming the weapon. The ghosts couldn't be that strong, because they dispersed in a green mist the instant the blast connected with them.

The big ghost roared and rushed forward. Will couldn't see what was going on, but this couldn't be good news for Danny. She turned her attention away from the smaller ghosts and started shooting the large one in the back repeatedly. Bam. Bam. Bam. The ghost didn't turn. It didn't flinch. It kept oozing forward. Its arms were moving. Was Danny…?

"Will! Now!"

That wasn't the signal they had agreed upon, but the meaning was obvious. Will whipped out the thermos and pointed it straight at the ghost. It turned, as if noticing her for the first time. It looked down on Will, a smirk gracing its grotesque features.

"Do you really think your pathetic little toy can hurt me?" it snarled. Now that it was turned, Will could see that Danny was clutched, struggling, in the ghost's left hand.

Will gritted her teeth and moved her finger toward the button on the thermos.

"Please. You're no match for me."

She breathed heavily. This was it. For Mr. Harris. For May. "You destroyed my café," she growled, and it was all she needed. She slammed down the button on the thermos and the swirling white vortex erupted, sucking in the ghost as it screamed and screamed and screamed.

Danny fell to the street with a thump.

The other ghosts, seeing their leader gone, cackled and disappeared down the side streets. Danny looked at Will. "I have to go after them. I can't – I won't let them cause any more damage. Stay here." Numbly, Will handed the gun and the thermos over to Danny. He vanished into the night.

It was eerily still. Will took a step forward and heard something clink under her shoe. She looked down. It was another piece of broken glass. Her eyes wondered up to the remnants of her little café. It looked like it had been bombed. The entire street was torn apart at the seams.

Will sat down in the middle of the street, not caring about the debris. With tears streaming down her face, she stayed there.

Mr. Harris stared at the remains of his favorite breakfast locale. The glass was gone, the tables were cracked and the entire place looked like it had been destroyed by some terrible war. He tried to form a coherent thought in his head about what he felt about all this but only seemed to be able to gape like a goldfish.

"They're saying it was some kind of extremist attack," a voice said behind him. He turned to see the waitress from the café, Wilhelmina.

"What are… what are they going to do?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Knock it down. There's no money to rebuild it." He noticed her eyes were red and puffy. It didn't look like she'd slept much.

"What? But…they can't…but…what are you going to do?"

Will was taken aback by the question. "I – wait… do you mean…me?"

"Yeah. Are you okay? What are you going to do now?"

"I'm…I don't know. I'll find a new job…I guess." She choked back a sob and wiped ferociously at her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

Will looked at her café. Then she looked at Mr. Harris. Last night she had fought monsters from the depths of hell and now she was blubbering in front of the man of her dreams. She almost smiled at the irony.

Last night she had fought monsters…Why couldn't she fight her own inner demons?

Will turned and looked at Mr. Harris. "What's your name?" she asked, sniffing.

He blinked. His mouth opened in an 'o.' "Mike," he said, finally. "My name's Mike."

Will dried the last of her tears and faced him, square in the face. "Do you want to go out to eat? I know this little breakfast place. It's not far…"

"Oh, sure! That would be great. And, you're sure you're okay?" Mike said, taking Will's hand.

Will looked at the café, one more time. Yesterday she wouldn't have dreamed she would be holding her love's hand, taking him to breakfast. Yesterday she was stuck, dreaming about her life, not living it. Her life at the café was gone, but perhaps another door had opened. She squeezed Mike's hand. It was amazing what a little confidence could do. She only had to ask.

"Let's go."

The sun rose on a new day.

May learned about the destruction of the café later that day. She wasn't devastated. She had other jobs she could fall back on. She was worried about Will, though. The café had meant so much to Will and May couldn't seem to get a hold of her. She would learn later that Will was busy enjoying herself with Mike Harris. Until then, she would spend the day telling all her friends that she wasn't hurt in the extremist attack.

That night there was a knock on May's apartment door. Warily, she opened it to see a young man with ebony black hair. He smiled, said hello, and then handed her a business card. He told her to give it to Will. Flustered, she didn't notice he had never said who he was.

The front of the card held the obligatory name and phone number. On the back there was written in messy handwriting I'm so terribly sorry. I know this isn't much, but I hope it helps you with your dream.

The card didn't reach Will until a week later. By that time she had gone on two dates with Mike Harris, found a new job she liked, and had begun working on her thesis. Her life had changed, for better or for worse and she was still adjusting.

Will called the number on a Tuesday evening. The air was cool and Will was surprisingly relaxed. The voice that replied was crisp and business-like. "Hello? This is Tucker Foley, senior technician at CERN laboratories…"

Will smiled.

END

So, this started in my head as Danny in a cafe being all BAMF and talking to a waitress. Then I started thinking about all the lives that would be affected by ghost attacks and it sort of evolved from there. Anyway, review, critique, whatever! It's all appreciated! Thank you so much for reading!

I'm taking the SAT Math 2 test this June. It's not a good excuse for not updating, but I feel like I'm reviewing every single math class I've ever taken, ever.