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Description
Protection~~~

Cold rain fell on the broken shell of what was once a hero. The cliff he kneeled upon was a high one; so high that if one who happened to be foolish enough to somehow fall down to the raging waters below would be surely ripped to pieces; and if one was lucky enough to survive the fall they would most definitely drown. Tears fell down the young boy’s cheeks, mingling with the vicious rain, as painful memories surfaced of loved ones lost.

He should have saved them, he should have been there. But he wasn’t. Even so, Phantom was blamed for their deaths; it was all Phantom’s fault. Blame the ghost kid – it’s always the nasty little ghost kid when something goes wrong. Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom; both hunted by the police for two very different reasons. The only remaining member of the Fenton family was missing and had no other family. He must have gone off the deep end, he must have committed suicide - after all what reason could he possibly have for wanting to live…?

None, there was no reason, nothing left. On the other side of the spectrum; Danny Phantom was wanted for murders he didn’t commit, said to have heartlessly slaughtered almost an entire family with no mercy whatsoever. Little did they know that the dead family was his own.

He held his injured leg tightly as blood trickled out of the deep gash - a result from his last encounter with the government’s ghost hunting agents. Phantom was wanted, alive... or as alive as a ghost could be. How nice, they didn't want to kill him; they wanted to poke and prod and rip and tear. Life had a way of never quite being fair.

He didn’t quite know who or what he was anymore; a ghost trying to blend in with humans… or just some creepy little kid with creepy little powers? Both – neither – who knows? Why was his life so messed up? It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. He didn’t deserve this. Any ordinary person who received ghost powers would have used them for their own selfish purposes; money, love, happiness? Yet this boy was different; he devoted his life to protecting people from the rising ghost threat, and this was his reward.

He was nothing. Nothing but a lonely, lost soul with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Maybe he should jump; maybe he should end his pitiful life. His pathetic existence was now seen as but a disease to the thriving word. A ghost menace that needed to be taken care of as soon as possible. How the mighty had fallen.

The half ghost stared into the sky. No stars, no moon, nothing but dark thundering clouds and rain. In the far distance, Amity Park could be seen. Glittering city lights, buildings, cars passing by, people hurrying around under umbrellas… Life went on for those people. Why should it? How could the world spin on broken axis? How could the people of this planet still be able to function as if nothing had happened when the Danny's own life was being brutally shattered?

Returning his eyes down to what lay below the cliff edge, he shuffled toward the edge. A few rocks tumbled and, after a few seconds had passed, disappeared into the darkness and made a quiet 'splash' as they entered the deep water below. No one would miss him, no one would care, no one was left to care. His absence would go unnoticed, it would affect no one.

His thoughts strayed back to those he loved; “Mom… Dad… Jazz… Tucker… Sam… Why?” Samantha Manson, he should have told her. He should have told her how he really felt – it was too late now, far too late. She was gone forever. Even if he did search for her in the ghost zone, the chances were that all he would find, if he found anything at all, would be a malevolent spirit. An alien. She wouldn’t remember him; she wouldn’t even be Sam Manson anymore. She'd just be some angry ghost wondering why it came to this.

Tears streamed down his face in a torrent. As far as he could recall, he hadn’t shed a tear since he was only a small boy and Dash had punched him in the face… Dash; that jerk was probably joking about ‘what a loser the Fenton kid was’ or ‘this town is better without those insane Fenton’s around’, all the while idolizing Danny Phantom. It sickened him. It truly sickened him to think about a life without his loved ones; a life alone. Bitterly, bitterly alone.

“No one gives a damn about me…” He whimpered to himself.
He barely noticed the rain had stopped falling on him, he didn’t seem to feel the cold either, nor the wind brushing against his face, he felt nothing but grief and despair. Standing behind him was the only other person who understood him; the only other half ghost who had also found himself with no one left.
“I care, Daniel, I care…” came the soft, comforting voice of Vlad Masters, holding a large umberella over Danny. Sheltering him, protecting him.

Maybe there was hope.

Description
Protection~~~

Cold rain fell on the broken shell of what was once a hero. The cliff he kneeled upon was a high one; so high that if one who happened to be foolish enough to somehow fall down to the raging waters below would be surely ripped to pieces; and if one was lucky enough to survive the fall they would most definitely drown. Tears fell down the young boy’s cheeks, mingling with the vicious rain, as painful memories surfaced of loved ones lost.

He should have saved them, he should have been there. But he wasn’t. Even so, Phantom was blamed for their deaths; it was all Phantom’s fault. Blame the ghost kid – it’s always the nasty little ghost kid when something goes wrong. Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom; both hunted by the police for two very different reasons. The only remaining member of the Fenton family was missing and had no other family. He must have gone off the deep end, he must have committed suicide - after all what reason could he possibly have for wanting to live…?

None, there was no reason, nothing left. On the other side of the spectrum; Danny Phantom was wanted for murders he didn’t commit, said to have heartlessly slaughtered almost an entire family with no mercy whatsoever. Little did they know that the dead family was his own.

He held his injured leg tightly as blood trickled out of the deep gash - a result from his last encounter with the government’s ghost hunting agents. Phantom was wanted, alive... or as alive as a ghost could be. How nice, they didn't want to kill him; they wanted to poke and prod and rip and tear. Life had a way of never quite being fair.

He didn’t quite know who or what he was anymore; a ghost trying to blend in with humans… or just some creepy little kid with creepy little powers? Both – neither – who knows? Why was his life so messed up? It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. He didn’t deserve this. Any ordinary person who received ghost powers would have used them for their own selfish purposes; money, love, happiness? Yet this boy was different; he devoted his life to protecting people from the rising ghost threat, and this was his reward.

He was nothing. Nothing but a lonely, lost soul with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Maybe he should jump; maybe he should end his pitiful life. His pathetic existence was now seen as but a disease to the thriving word. A ghost menace that needed to be taken care of as soon as possible. How the mighty had fallen.

The half ghost stared into the sky. No stars, no moon, nothing but dark thundering clouds and rain. In the far distance, Amity Park could be seen. Glittering city lights, buildings, cars passing by, people hurrying around under umbrellas… Life went on for those people. Why should it? How could the world spin on broken axis? How could the people of this planet still be able to function as if nothing had happened when the Danny's own life was being brutally shattered?

Returning his eyes down to what lay below the cliff edge, he shuffled toward the edge. A few rocks tumbled and, after a few seconds had passed, disappeared into the darkness and made a quiet 'splash' as they entered the deep water below. No one would miss him, no one would care, no one was left to care. His absence would go unnoticed, it would affect no one.

His thoughts strayed back to those he loved; “Mom… Dad… Jazz… Tucker… Sam… Why?” Samantha Manson, he should have told her. He should have told her how he really felt – it was too late now, far too late. She was gone forever. Even if he did search for her in the ghost zone, the chances were that all he would find, if he found anything at all, would be a malevolent spirit. An alien. She wouldn’t remember him; she wouldn’t even be Sam Manson anymore. She'd just be some angry ghost wondering why it came to this.

Tears streamed down his face in a torrent. As far as he could recall, he hadn’t shed a tear since he was only a small boy and Dash had punched him in the face… Dash; that jerk was probably joking about ‘what a loser the Fenton kid was’ or ‘this town is better without those insane Fenton’s around’, all the while idolizing Danny Phantom. It sickened him. It truly sickened him to think about a life without his loved ones; a life alone. Bitterly, bitterly alone.

“No one gives a damn about me…” He whimpered to himself.
He barely noticed the rain had stopped falling on him, he didn’t seem to feel the cold either, nor the wind brushing against his face, he felt nothing but grief and despair. Standing behind him was the only other person who understood him; the only other half ghost who had also found himself with no one left.
“I care, Daniel, I care…” came the soft, comforting voice of Vlad Masters, holding a large umberella over Danny. Sheltering him, protecting him.

Maybe there was hope.