Author's Note: Sorry? I kind of... yeah. ^^; My stories are never dead, though, so even if there are long periods of time between updates, the story lives on! ...for those of you still around, anyways.
Thanks to Mi Bi Looney (for finally kicking me into updating), Samantha Seldowitz, Xoroth, Sabsi13, lokoforsonic9559, Horseluvr14, Random Flyer, Girmie, irezel, dragondancer123, sci fi lover, Shadeslayer35, Bigdanfan, 1GhostWriter, Donteatacowman, How To The Moon, BlackRoseFire, kdm13, Night's Fire, HellsingFanaticperson, Lost MP, Jidt, ArellaoftheLuvara, peppymint, Danni4ever, bbfan77, bluename, Arcellant, Ikiko Higurashi, Rya Starling, mak0-ch1, Kimba616, The Feral Candy Cane, tanith-4486, Liani Risate, Flameses, hawkflyer667, GeekGirl2, YumeTakato, CatalystOfTheSoul, gadrak-the-forbidden-one, Amazing Bluie, Alexia Moonlight, ImmortalPhantom22, skitzofrenic, soraroxas365, bloodmoon13, RID3RLVR, Invader Johnny, stick fight3, Anthiena, and Ryuuko1!
And thank you so much for 200 reviews. :) Totally don't deserve it for this plotless story.
I'm Still Here
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria
Chapter Six
Danny yawned as Sam finally allowed the trio to head back to her house, his arms full of the bags of clothes Sam had insisted on buying him. The sun had long since set and the stars were burning brightly in the night sky. Danny took comfort in looking up at them for a moment, catching sight of a familiar constellation through the trees. At least the stars hadn't changed at all. Seventy years was nothing compared to the life of a star.
"Danny?" Sam called, light spilling out from the front door as she pushed it open. "You coming?"
Wrenching his eyes away from the stars, Danny walked along the path and stepped into the light, following his friend into her home. He set a smile on his face and managed to keep up a bit of conversation as she showed him upstairs to one of the guest rooms despite his flagging energy. "I'm surprised you bought such a big house," he said. "I always pictured you living in something small and eco-friendly."
"I thought so too," Sam said with a shrug. "But this one was screaming 'home' and I managed to convert it. It's actually got a negative carbon footprint now – the solar panels and things generate more power than I use. So I'm okay with it."
"That," Dan added, trailing behind them, "and someone less environmentally conscious would have bought it. Let them live in the eco-friendly houses that actually make sense for one person to live in and Mom can take care of this huge house that isn't so environmentally wonderful. Yadda, yadda, and so on and so forth."
"Had this conversation before?" Danny asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Dan grinned. "Only a few hundred times. And only when someone asks why she's living alone in such a big house."
"Shush, boy," Sam muttered. "Don't you have to work tomorrow?"
"My own mother, kicking me out of her house for engaging in polite conversation. What is the world coming to?" Dan laughed, then caught Danny stifling another yawn. "But yes, I do have to go."
Danny watched, feeling a little out of place as Dan stepped around him and wrapped Sam up in a hug. "Bye, Danny," Sam whispered, giving him a hug before allowing the man to step away from him. "Thanks for helping with shopping."
"Mm, yes. Shopping, my specialty," Dan said, sending an eye roll in Danny's direction. "You really needed my help with that. I'll see you later, Danny." He backed down the stairs, sending a, "Call me if you need anything," back in their direction.
For a moment, Danny stared at the empty stairs, then looked back up at his best friend. It was still weird to see her as eighty-six rather than sixteen, and a little ache started in his heart. I want to go home.
He shook his head when Sam started down the hallway towards one of the guest rooms, watching his feet move under him and quietly berating himself. He couldn't go home – not anymore. With the Ghost Zone 'reformatted' and all the ghosts (including Clockwork) gone and no sign of any sort of hope, Danny knew that he was stuck in the future. There wouldn't be any miracle ending to this story.
I still just want to go home.
"Hey," came Sam's voice, and Danny looked up, blinking at her. She had pushed open a door and was gazing at him with her amethyst eyes. "Standard question?"
"I'm fine," Danny said, "just tired." He figured it was as good an excuse as any for the strange feeling swirling inside of him. The day's events were catching up to him – talking with Jazz and meeting Sam and her son and learning that Vlad was probably still alive… it was all a lot to take in. There was simply no more pushing it off to think about later. "I'll be better tomorrow."
When he moved to walk past her, one wrinkled hand shot out to grab his shoulder. "You want to talk?"
"I want to sleep," he said, grinning at her and knowing the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. His smile faded at her look, but he simply shook his head. "Really. I'll be better tomorrow."
"You're not invincible, Danny. I remember that you always seemed to think that you were on top of the world and that nothing got to you." Her eyes were gentle. "But I know better."
He looked away, studying the room for a moment. Through the shadows, he could make out a very inviting-looking bed. "I know, Sam," he said softly. He knew that it was getting to him, slowly eating away at his core. A large part of him, however, didn't want to talk about it. An even larger part didn't want to talk about it to this old woman who used to be his best friend.
When she finally let go of his shoulder, he stepped into the room and dumped his armload of bags on the floor before turning around to look at her. She stood in the doorway for a moment, shaking her head. "It's like a dream, Danny," she said. Enveloped in the shadows with the light to her back, Danny could almost imagine her still being a teenager, and that thought made his eyes start to burn.
I'm homesick, he realized sharply. Between his exhaustion and everything that had happened, the feeling had snuck up on him without him noticing. He let out a long breath, then shook his head. "Some dream."
Even though he couldn't see it, he knew that a smile had slipped onto his best friend's face. "'Night, Danny."
"Goodnight, Sam."
After the door had closed, Danny quietly slipped into a pair of the pajamas Sam and bought and got into bed, but his mind wouldn't stay quiet. He managed to stay in the bed for a whole of ten minutes before slipping out of bed and switching to his ghost form. Phasing through the ceiling, he landed on the roof and settled down between two of the solar panels, lying on his back and staring up at the stars.
The same stars had shown down on him three days… seventy years… ago and they lulled his chaotic spirit into something resembling peace. It didn't take long before he drifted off to sleep.
Deep in the nothingness that remained of the Ghost Zone, a cold voice was snarling. He smashed the image of the sleeping teenager with his clawed fist, reveling in the fury that seeing the young teenager had brought up from the depths of his core. "How dare he?" the voice whispered. "How dare he find some semblance of peace? He's supposed to be tormented before I torture him."
The ghost paced in mid-air, his gaze drifted over the green abyss. None of the barely-formed ghosts dared fall into his sight; their deformed masses of consciousness scuttled off to hide in the endless expanse, otherwise the self-proclaimed 'King' of the New Ghost Zone would tear them back apart.
With a growl, the ghost snatched up a ripped-open Fenton Thermos, running a cold finger along a jagged edge, his eyes burning brightly. Suddenly, he breathed out. "Fine. Fine. Let him have his moment of peace, just like I let his silly clone have her moment. He'll see me for what I can do in due time."
A smile formed on his face, eerie in the semi-darkness as he studied the battered Thermos in his hands, simultaneously cradling it like a cherished infant and clutching it like he was strangling the teenager. "Good night, little Danny. Before long you'll realize that I'm still here."
Waking up on a roof – while nowhere near the worst thing that had happened to him recently – definitely wasn't one of the highlights. Beyond the odd feeling of vertigo and the momentary panic that he had almost rolled right off the edge in his sleep, there was the fact that the sun was blindingly bright in the morning with no curtains. Danny blinked at the sunrise, wiping bits of grit from his eyes and stretching. His back popped, complaining about spending the night on the hard surface.
He just sat there, lazily running a hand through his hair, listening to the birds starting to chirp and the day getting off to its start. His brain not really engaged at all, it took a moment for him to remember why he was sleeping on the roof. When the thought finally penetrated his sleep-addled mind, Danny groaned and closed his eyes.
It was day four of this disaster. Trapped in 2078 with no going back.
The depressing ache of homesickness from yesterday started to swirl through him again, but he solidly slammed the floodgates in his mind before his emotions could catch up with him. Phasing cleanly through the roof, he landed on the floor of Sam's guest room and pawed through the bags lying on the floor. It only took a few minutes for him to snap the tags off a shirt and pants and be dressed, headed downstairs.
"Sam?" he called softly, walking from room to room and poking his head into various places. Eventually he ended up in the kitchen, gazing at the empty room with a sigh. Apparently Sam still wasn't a morning person.
Shaking off the weirdness of being in Sam's kitchen and using Sam's things, Danny dug through the cupboards for something to eat. He had a half-thought to make breakfast for her, but his cooking skills most likely hadn't improved with being trapped inside the Thermos. And there was the fact that she wasn't sixteen anymore. Making breakfast for a girl he had a serious crush on was one thing… making breakfast for that same girl when she was seventy years older than him was another.
Eventually he ended up choosing cereal, quietly crunching through a bowl of a brand he'd never heard of, staring out the window. He swirled the cereal with his spoon, wrinkling his nose at the fact that not even the cereal was the same anymore. Everything had changed so much.
Even he was about to change. Danny Fenton was seventy years dead and buried in a graveyard next to his parents. He couldn't stay Danny Fenton for much longer; it would raise too many eyebrows. He'd need to be a whole new person by the time he left Sam's house. Everything about him needed to disappear and he'd have a new identity, new name, new life… He couldn't ever go back to who he had been.
He shook his head sharply, dislodging the train of thought from his mind. It was depressing to think about and Danny could feel his eyes start to burn at the thought of it. For now, he just needed to stay focused on what need to be done right now.
"Danny? You're up early."
Danny looked up from his almost empty bowl at the sound of his best friend's voice. The smile faded a little when he saw how old and fragile she looked, a robe tied tightly around her ancient frame and slippers on her feet. "The sun woke me up," he answered with a shrug, looking back down at his cereal.
It was weird. All the awkwardness from yesterday was back. While meeting Sam's adopted son and being dragged out shopping, Danny had almost managed to forget that he didn't really fit in and it had felt close to normal. He'd laughed and teased Sam endlessly, telling Sam's son all sorts of stories of Sam's childhood. But now that easiness was gone.
Sam was old. He'd been gone for seventy years. She'd had a life he knew nothing about and he still had one to live.
Looking at her he saw his best friend, but he also saw the stranger that she'd become. Sitting in the kitchen with her felt like eating breakfast with someone he'd never met before.
"How are you feeling this morning?"
Danny looked up, blinking at her. In all of his memories, Sam had been there. She'd been the rock he could count on, the person he could trust, and the keeper of most of his secrets. She had known things Tucker could only dream about. He could tell her (almost) anything and, with the exception of that crush thing he'd developed, he'd never felt the desire to hide anything from her.
Today…
Today, he didn't want to tell her. She was Sam, but she wasn't. His eyes traced over the lines and wrinkles in her face, catching on the grays in her hair, studying the age spots that dotted her skin.
He would have told Sam, four days and seventy years ago, about his homesickness and how lost he felt. He would have said how scared he was, knowing he was about to throw his entire life away. He would have mentioned that his parents were dead, Tucker was dead, and – to him – it had happened only days ago. There were huge, gaping sores in his mind and they hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before.
But this wasn't his Sam anymore.
"I'm fine," he said, looking down at the milk still left in his bowl and stirring it around with his spoon. The words didn't sound convinced at all and Danny took in a breath, repeating himself more firmly. "I'm fine."
It was a lie. And based off the look on Sam's face before she turned around to make herself breakfast, they both knew it.
Matthew Masters hadn't felt this alive in nearly fifty years. The grin on his face was almost feral, his fingers tapping on the keys of his computer with a delighted speed, his eyes sparkling in a way that took years off of his features. He was carefully inputting the data from the sensor that had been triggered, plotting the changes over the course of seventy years, matching it up…
When the result flashed on the screen, Matthew sat back and stared at the screen in dazed astonishment. He'd known what the answer would be before he was started, but he'd never been one to jump into something without proof. Now here it was, his proof: plain as the nose on his face, but no less startling.
"How in the world…?" he whispered.
The hologram turned itself on at his words, sitting down next to him on the bed and leaning over to read the screen. It didn't really need to do that – it was the computer, after all, and could have just accessed the database for the knowledge – but it had been programmed to act as human as possible. "Sweetie," it said softly, adding in a confused tone. "Isn't that what you knew it would say?"
"Of course," Matthew answered, glancing into the hologram's violet eyes. "But I still didn't believe it. Who would have thought that Daniel would show up after all of these years, looking exactly like he did seventy years ago?"
"He hasn't aged," the hologram stated. The computer screen changed to two pictures – one of Daniel Fenton seventy years ago and one of the boy from yesterday, borrowed from a security camera. Discounting clothing, they were identical.
Matthew's blue eyes narrowed slightly, glancing from one image to the other. "No, he hasn't." He leaned forwards a little, his forehead furrowing. "And it is him." Silence descended for a moment before Matthew muttered, "It's not Daniel's style to simply vanish. He was too attached to his family and friends – he never would have put them through that torment."
"So what do you think happened to him?" The hologram blinked its eyes a few times.
"It wasn't his choice," the oldest half-ghost said slowly, "that much is obvious. He wasn't in the ghost zone or he would have been annihilated with the rest of them, and he wasn't in the human world. I had too many sensors and trackers out there for him to avoid them all." Matthew breathed out, steepling his fingers and pressing them against his lips, trying to figure out a place that wasn't in either the human world or the ghost zone. "And to not age…"
"Perhaps he simply ages slowly, like you do?"
Matthew shook his head, staring at the image of his one-time nemesis and feeling an odd emotion creeping up inside his chest. "No. Daniel would still look to be in his forties by this point. He hasn't been aging at all."
The hologram shook its head, its circuits and pathways not able to make the leap of logic to understand what had happened to the young demighost. It looked at its master, waiting patiently. Time meant little to the sophisticated computer program.
Finally Vlad Masters reached out and shut off the screen, getting to his feet. His eyes were blazing with energy and the smile on his face was one that hadn't been seen in decades. "Come, Maddie," he said, grabbing his coat and walking towards the door with a snap in his step. "We have places to be."
To be continued.