Sort of for Angst Day.
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Nights Like This
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Sometimes, when Danny was flying high and alone in the night air over Amity Park, he wondered.
When the stars were out, he wondered about them. About what secrets they held. About what they had seen. He wondered about their long lives, and the planets that orbited them. He wondered if any living planets circled them, if there were intelligences out there looking back and wondering the same thing.
When the moon shone he wondered about it. About when humans would once again set foot on its surface, and if he could be one of the lucky ones to do it.
When he could spot Mars, or Jupiter, or one of the other planets, he wondered much the same things.
But when the sky was clouded over and he'd been plagued by more ghosts than could be squeezed into a Christmas Carol marathon, well. He wondered about different things.
It was a cloudy night, and blood dripped from a shallow cut in his side. Except it wasn't blood. It was ectoplasm.
On nights like this, Danny wondered what he was.
.
The cut wasn't bad. Danny had gotten worse. Much worse. Much, much worse. It hardly hurt. It certainly didn't compare to dying.
But.
Danny really should clean it and bandage it. He should go home, and get the first aid kit. That had been his intention when he'd flown away from the scene of the fight. But he'd stopped, staring at the cut.
He was bleeding green. He always did that when he was a ghost. It shouldn't feel like a surprise. It shouldn't feel like a punch in the stomach.
But.
The ghost he'd fought tonight had been Spectra.
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How could anyone ever care about you? Nobody knows you. You don't know yourself. You don't even know what you are. Pretending to be half-human... You're a freak, and deluded along with it. You've seen your parents' research. You've heard what they say. There's no way for a human to have ghost powers.
And there's no way for a ghost to be good.
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As always, there was enough truth in what she said that the rest was still digging its sinister way into his brain. Or whatever the ghostly equivalent was. Just like his fingers were digging into the cut in his side. It hurt. It grounded him. His parents also said that ghosts couldn't feel pain.
So there.
He shuddered, and continued his flight home.
It was on nights like this that Danny wondered if he was really half-alive...
... or just a ghost who thought he was.
