Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does. I would never dream of making money off his work, this is but one fanatic's homage. So please don't sic the rabid lawyer hordes upon me, there's not much for them to sue out of me.

Author's Note: I thought Chapter 1 was depressing to write. I had to flat out walk away from the computer and go to bed before I could bring myself to finish this. I swear, I was in tears by the end of writing this chapter. You KNOW something is depressing when not only does it make you cry, it causes an actual physical sensation as well.

Chapter 4: Rampage and Indecision

"What hurts the most

Was being so close

And having so much to say

And watching you walk away

And never knowing

What could have been"

-"What Hurts the Most" -Rascal Flatts

I'm not sure how long I was out after that. I awoke to the beeping of medical equipment and the plain white walls of a hospital room. There was a square of sunlight on the wall, let in from a nearby window. I stared blankly at that patch of light, uncomprehending how I had gotten there. Such is the case with extreme shock, I suppose. My reunion with Danny hadn't trickled back to conscious thought just yet. For that first waking moment, I was warm, safe, and untroubled. Like all things however, it couldn't possibly last. My recollection of before I blacked out slammed home all in an instant as I sat up suddenly, biting back a whimper as my bandaged midsection ached from the motion. The light on the wall wasn't bright. It was muted, like sunlight through clouds, or through smoke, and tinged just barely green.

"Dad!"

"He's sleeping in the next room." A nurse said from the doorway. "He was in bad shape, but he should be alright given time."

I fell back against the pillows with relief. "So he'll be okay?"

The woman nodded. "Aside from being blind in one eye and the loss of his arm, he'll be fine."

I stared at the woman, trying to make sense of everything. She looked tired, as if she'd been stressed out. "What about me? And where's my stuff?"

The woman gestured to a corner, and I saw my jet sled and equipment stacked carefully. "You should be fine with some bed rest and taking it easy. Three broken ribs, several bruises, a rather nasty 2nd degree burn on your back. I'm sorry about that suit of yours... it was in shambles when we treated you, we had to cut it off to get it off the burn."

I cringed, I couldn't recall if I had activated my suit or not when I rescued my dad. I guess it was reflex. At least I still had my sled and several of my weapons... for what? I couldn't go back to ghost hunting after that, could I? I felt the building rumble slightly, almost like an earthquake, and yelped.

"Don't worry... the fighting is still several miles from here." The nurse reassured me, though I saw her eyes dart to the window warily.

"Fighting?" I squeaked as the distant thunderclap reached the hospital.

The nurse nodded grimly and turned on the TV. I stared at the screen, at the newscast in progress. I felt my stomach clench painfully up at the scene being depicted, and I was immensely grateful I hadn't eaten anything in hours. There he was, before the cameras, without a care in the world. I recognized the demolished location, it was the Nasty Burger. You couldn't tell that they'd been working at a breakneck pace to repair the building now. There wasn't much building left, lit by green fire. Smoke billowed from a number of demolished cars, and I was taken aback by the realization that many were police cars, and one helicopter, all in flaming ruin.

"This is Lance Thunder, who really wishes he'd taken that acting job in Los Angeles, reporting live from Amity Park as the city bunkers down for Ghost Watch, day 2." The field reporter addressed the camera, his eyes darting everywhere, obviously very near to panic. "Yesterday afternoon, an unknown ghost began a rampage in the heart of the city, first demolishing the fast-food establishment you see behind me. Police attempted to stop the ghost, but as you can see, all attempts so far have failed. The mayor has urged all citizens to remain calm and indoors... oh the heck with it. Get out while you still can!"

I cringed at the reporter's tone, and then gasped when I saw Danny hovering a short distance behind the man, one glowing green palm pointed right at the camera, a demented grin on his face. "Run, you idiots!" I yelped uselessly. The reporter spun around at some exclamation from the cameraman, but in an instant the screen was filled with a bright green light that then cut to static, but not before the camera recorded the first seconds of the camera man's cry of terror and the reporter's shriek.

"Well... " The screen cut back to the news desk, the news anchors both with pale, strained expressions. "... there's not much else to be said. We will continue to cover this story as best we can..."

"He's been rampaging since... yesterday?" I managed to squeak out around my queasiness. "Oh god... how bad is it?"

The nurse turned the television off and shrugged. "I shouldn't stay here long- we're full to capacity since it started. The reports have said that the ghost has done a lot of damage in the city center... it may be days before rescue parties can get into that area to look for survivors. It's amazing that Phantom hasn't shown up... I thought that spirit was usually the first one on the scene of a ghost attack."

She ducked out of the room, leaving me to stare open-mouthed at the now-blank TV screen. In the non-silence, I could hear it. The cacophony of the rest of the hospital, the sound muffled by the thick walls as victims were brought in. Above and beyond that, the regular rumbles of distant explosions. Danny was out there, at that very moment, destroying things, hurting people... I swallowed hard as I considered what else he had done. That I'd seen him do. The people in that one car. I didn't want to think of it, but I couldn't ignore it. Killing people, and apparently enjoying it. The thought made my innards protest. And if the nurse was any indication, people didn't realize the fire-headed ghost terrorizing them WAS the same ghost-kid they had obviously come to view as a hero. I wasn't sure if I was glad for that or horrified at the thought.

Gritting my teeth, I got to my feet and padded to the window, squinting against the daylight. As the light quit dazzling my eyes, I gasped at the sight. In the distance a thick pillar of green-tinged smoke rose darkly into the sky, fanning out to obscure the sun. Most of the city still looked to be intact from my vantage, but I could see the fresh columns of smoke and flame blazing into existence. If no one could stop him, it seemed entirely possible that Danny would carry out his wicked threat that he'd hissed at me the day before. That he would destroy everything he hated, so he wouldn't have to see it again.

The police had already tried and failed to stop Danny. No help would be coming from the town's most famous ghost given that whether they realized it or not, the ghost attacking them WAS said famous ghost. The Fentons were gone, and would never hunt another ghost again. I felt ill as the weight of my realization settled on my shoulders. Somehow, I had to bring myself to raise a gun against my friend and destroy him.

But I couldn't. It was that behavior that had driven Danny away, driven him somehow to his present state. Knowing that, how could I bear to try and hurt him again? What if I killed him? I was already torn up blaming myself for his running away and returning as this nightmare being, there was no way I could possibly live with myself if I killed him. He was more than just a friend, he... I loved him. There, I said it. It may have only been puppy love, a young woman's first crush, but I did. I may not have had the same level of emotion for him that Sam did- after all, she had obviously accepted the whole of his existence from the start, whereas I had reacted poorly to learning the truth of him- but I still cared deeply for him, and was shocked and dismayed at his transformation. Perhaps if I'd known the truth of his change then, my decision would not have been so difficult. It's hard to say. That monster both was and was not Danny, and in any case, I was in no position to try and fight him with my injuries.

With some difficulty, I forced myself to look away from the window. I was safe for the time being, but I knew that time was growing ever shorter- distance would spare me for only so long. I think I knew in the back of my mind that I truly had no choice in the matter, but I wasn't consciously capable of accepting it yet. Every fiber of my being rebelled now against the very notion of trying to fight Danny, but at the same time I could only deny the reality for so long. He had tried in all seriousness to kill not only me, but also my father, who was now laying in a hospital bed crippled. I had watched him murder a car full of innocent people, perhaps a family like his was, now wiped out, left in ashen ruin. I saw him kill again not ten minutes ago, when that newscast was cut short. I had no doubt in my mind that the reporter did not survive long past the camera going dead. I didn't want to think about it, but I knew that even as I sat there useless in my mental anguish, he was out there hurting people, destroying people's homes, their way of life, he was killing people. I was in a hospital full to capacity of his victims, people who had likely never even met him, people who would otherwise have been happy to leave him alone.

I was interrupted by a harried intern poking his head into my room and telling me that my father was awake, and that I could see him if I wanted. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity for a distraction from my dark thoughts, and with the young man's help, I was led to my dad's room. I felt fresh tears stinging my eyes when I saw him. He looked pale, ashen beneath his dark complexion, half his face swathed carefully in linen bandages, his remaining good eye unfocused, with an almost glassy sheen as he looked over when I entered the room. From what I could see of his torso, he was covered in bandages, some of them bearing red staining, proof of his injuries.

"Ohmigosh, Dad!" I ran over to the bedside. "I was so worried-!"

"I'm glad you're safe, Valerie." He whispered, his voice slurring badly- he was very heavily medicated to kill the pain. If only my own pain could have been so easily subdued.

"You saved me from D-" I choked and caught myself, not wanting to reveal to my dad that it was Danny responsible for this awful situation. "-that ghost."

"I thought you hated ghosts, sweetie." My father barely quirked his visible eyebrow at me. "You're going to hunt that one down, right?"

I tried to choke back a sob at the reminder that Danny needed to be stopped. "I... I don't think I can... he was so powerful, and the nurse said I have broken ribs..."

Despite the drug haze, my dad gave me a piercing look. "You don't think you can, or you don't think you will?"

I visibly cringed as he managed to hit my dilemma dead on. "Dad, I-I can't..."

"Why not, sweetie? You saw what that ghost did." My dad pressed on, paternal instinct alive and well despite his physical condition.

I found a chair and sat in an uncomfortable silence. My dad waited patiently, his one-eyed gaze gentle. I guess it was pretty obvious that the worse of my injuries weren't the physical ones that could just be drugged away and would heal given time. But I didn't want to confess the truth of it, that the ghost, the monster that did all this, was in fact the very same sweet boy that my dad had remarked rather favorably on in the past. Casual remarks in the past like, "That Fenton boy seems to be a sweet kid."or "You really like Danny, don't you?" rose up to smack me in the face. How could I tell my dad that, by the way, that really sweet kid put your eye out and ripped your arm off. Oh, and not to mention that sweet kid tried to brutally kill your daughter because, just for the record, he's got freaky ghost-type powers. And that sweet kid is currently on a brutal rampage in the city.

My dad was the first one to break the silence, waiting for the rumble of a distant blast to fade before speaking quietly. "Valerie... you called him Danny. I heard you say that during the fight."

I choked back another sob- it escaped as a whimper. I couldn't stop the tears though, borne of grief, stress, and to some degree shame. Then as now, I blame myself at least in part for the nightmare, and that guilt will be a burden I bear to the end of my days. My father awkwardly laid his good arm across my shoulders, lightly drawing me close and waiting with the sort of patience only a loving parent can manage for the storm of tears to pass. It took several minutes, and my aching ribs protested the abuse greatly before I was able to breathe normally instead of gulping for air between sobs.

"Valerie, please." My dad asked gently, rubbing my shoulder. "That ghost... was that Danny? Your classmate?"

I couldn't bear the burden of Danny's secret alone, I decided. I wouldn't be able to function under that weight without support, and if I couldn't trust my own father, then I couldn't trust anyone. I nodded with a sniffle, finding my voice again with some effort. "Uh-huh... he... I dunno how exactly... he was the ghost-kid all along, something about the portal..." I tried to take a deep breath and maintain some composure, an effort largely wasted. "When he told me... Daddy, I freaked out and chased him away, and now he's back and angry and-" I hadn't called my father 'Daddy' in ages, I guess it just proved how distraught I was as I choked down another sob at my admission.

"Valerie... oh, I'm so sorry." My dad hugged me close again. "No wonder you're so upset. It was your friend... that's terrible."

I'm sure he had dozens of questions he wanted to ask, but he wisely chose to simply comfort his distressed daughter. I imagine he was also trying to digest the stark truth- he had tried to curtail my ghost hunting out of fear for my own safety, but now I was the only person in the city that had a prayer of saving everyone. It couldn't have been easy, having to encourage your own precious child to risk her life for the sake of saving everyone.

"What am I gonna do, Dad?" I whimpered, wiping my eyes. "I can't fight him... what if I hurt him? Or kill him?"

"That's a choice you need to make, Valerie." My dad sounded awfully tired, his medication was probably starting to make him drowsy. "Won't you feel worse if he destroys everything you fought to protect? That he fought to protect?"

I didn't want to admit it, but that exactly why I was on the horns of such a dilemma. If I tried to stop Danny, it meant fighting my friend, probably to the end of either me or him. If I didn't try to stop Danny, it meant living with the guilt of knowing that every bit of damage, every shattered home, every death was also on my head. In either case, it would probably end with my own death, it was simply a matter of how I faced that ending, hiding away like a coward and prolonging the inevitable or fighting to the possibly bitter end to protect other people, and perhaps just maybe come out of it alive and well.

"I... need to think about it, Dad." I mumbled as he laid back against his pillows, eye drooping as exhaustion and the medicine won out over his wakefulness.

"Don't... think too long, Valerie." He murmured sleepily. "A lot of people need you."

I quietly fled the room once I was certain he was soundly asleep. Guilt heaped onto my already indecisive state and I spent the better part of the day arguing myself in circles, pacing between my equipment and that window. I kept telling myself that maybe I could talk sense into Danny, and things could go back to the way they were before. Then I would look out the window at that ever-expanding column of smoke, or hear from the harried staff about the most recent victims. I watched a news helicopter flying toward the city center, saw the footage it was recording on the television. Near twilight, I saw even from my vantage the brilliant green beam of energy shoot up into the sky from somewhere down among the buildings, lancing the copter and sending it plummeting out of sight in a massive fireball. The television broadcast again showed static, revealing about as many answers as my own troubled thoughts.

I thought I would never sleep again as I watched night fall on Amity Park, the sky lit a most eerie shade of green as the light of the fires below was distorted by the ever-thicker clouds of smoke, casting a sickening green square of light on the wall. I sat in a chair, staring blankly out the window, watching the steady progression of Danny's rampage well into the night. I had to have been asleep, either dreaming or hallucinating when I heard the voice.

valerie

Whether I was dreaming of the hospital room or actually wakefully there, I don't recall. I was in a daze, and sat up sharply at the whisper. "What was that-? Who's there?"

You've got to stop him.

The non-voice had a desperate, pleading edge to it, and I found my groggy gaze drawn toward that green patch of light let in from the window. I saw nothing if I stared directly at the patch, but I swear there was something- no, someone standing there if I looked out the corner of my eye. "Who's there?" I demanded, though my voice wavered, caught somewhere between fear and wonder.

Please, Valerie. You've got to stop him, before it's too late! He wouldn't want this!

I thought the non-voice sounded familiar as the vague form slowly, ever slowly began to resolve itself. I felt my heart stop for a moment as the dark figure came increasingly into focus, yet so faint as to be easily mistaken for a trick played by over-tired eyes and the light. Whether I was awake or asleep, I stand firmly by the belief that it was real and not merely a hallucination conjured by my tormented psyche.

Violet eyes not-quite glowing stared at me from a face bearing an expression more upset than my own, an expression of grief running far deeper than I have words to describe it with. Impossible as it was, Sam Manson was in that hospital room. "S-sam?" I managed to gasp out in disbelief. The apparition's mouth never moved, but I heard her as clearly as if she'd been standing right next to me and talking.

Valerie, listen to me, there's not much time! Sam flinched, clearly pained by what she was about to tell me. You've got to stop Danny. He wouldn't want this. Please!

"You want me to try and kill him!" I demanded, irrationally angry at yet another person... ghost... whatever! urging me to do this awful thing. "You honestly think he wants to die!"

Sam cringed at my tone, I thought I saw the light glint faintly on tears slowly making their way down her pale face. It's too late to save him.

I clenched my fists, finding myself increasingly angry at this apparent lack of faith from a girl I thought had been Danny's most steadfast friend. "So you're just giving up on him? I thought you loved him! How can you honestly tell me I should go and try to kill him! Don't you think I care for him, too!"

The apparition flinched again, almost as if slapped before fixing me with that violet stare, matching my outburst with one of her own. You can't kill someone who's already gone Her non-voice caught on a sob. Because I loved him, but he's gone forever, and he's never coming back. That monster isn't Danny! He would never do this, NEVER. If you care at all for him, or for everything he fought so hard for, despite the whole town and you hating his guts, you'll do this for him.

I stopped, my anger draining away as the specter shook from barely contained sobs, obviously horribly pained at what she was trying to convince me to do. To kill Danny, the boy we had both apparently loved. "He's... gone? But I just saw him!"

That's not Danny, Valerie. Not anymore. Sam recovered her composure more rapidly than I would have thought possible. He would hate to see that monster... all that's left of him. If you don't stop him, he'll destroy everything! Please, Valerie, please...

Either I woke up from dreaming then or the specter faded away, but I felt horribly alert, staring again out the window, the sky barely tinted with the first signs of the coming dawn, the green flashes making a steady progression through a city gripped by panic. My shirt was damp, I felt the freshest round of tears making their way downward following the salty tracks of the ones that had come before. It killed me to admit it, but my dad and the specter, ghost, or dream delusion were right. That wasn't Danny, that sweet boy would never have considered, let alone committed such atrocities. Whatever that ghost may have been in the past, it was no longer the ghost-kid, it wasn't Danny Fenton.

I slowly got to my feet, hating my decision but knowing it was the right one. Someone had to stop Danny, and lay his legacy to rest. It was past time. I didn't want to do it, but it had to be done. Danny had to be laid to rest alongside his family and dearest two friends, never to be separated from them again.

My suit was gone, but I still had my jet sled and my weapons. If Danny could convince the students of Casper High to fight a ship full of pirate ghosts, then maybe I could convince them to help me fight off this monster. I would have to- I couldn't hope to fight well in my condition, and the city didn't have the time to wait for my ribs to mend. God, it hurt to make that choice, as I grabbed my sled and my guns.

If Danny was now the very monster I had always envisioned the ghost-kid to be, then I had to force myself to hate him again, to hate him as I had in the past. If he no longer cared about anything, then there was no room for me to care about him. He was truly past redemption... I never would find out just how many people he killed while I wasted precious time agonizing over his fate. The best estimates anyone could make ranged from several hundred to a few thousand. Regardless, I wept silently as I gathered my things, that last tears I swore I would shed for Danny. It was a vow I would ultimately break, but it was true enough at the time.

When I left the hospital, it was with dry eyes and a grim expression.

I'll stop him. I have to.