A/N - Ignore this if you don't care about the author. (-_-)" Okay, so I wrote the first seven paragraphs about myself, actually. I've been dealing with a lot of crap lately, along with my own personal mental hell. On top of depression and anxiety, I also have a mood disorder, and no emotional permanence whatsoever! Yay! Seriously, though. Tell your friends and family you care about them, sometimes they find it hard to believe.

Onto story-related things: This will be a oneshot, –maybe– a twoshot if I get more inspiration. Prepare for depressing crap, this was pretty much spawned by pure depression.

-No PP, no pairings-

Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide, Slight Gore (Not by my standards, but I'm a descriptive writer.)

Beware, this will probably rip out your heart.

He sat in the lunchroom in silence. No one gave the teen a second glance. He was reading an assigned book, after all, and Dash was nowhere to be seen. Nobody really noticed that he hadn't eaten anything, or that neither of his friends had come up to talk or sit and eat. All of the teenagers around him couldn't pick up on the misery he felt as he sat alone. They seemed oblivious, and it made the ever increasing bitterness return.

He saw Sam and Tucker pass by on his way to the cafeteria. A quick nod, a smile, and they were gone. They didn't even exchange greetings. The same thing happened with both of them before he decided to give up and bury his attention in his book. Bitterness washed over his in waves, each bringing more negative thoughts than the last.

"Well," he thought glumly, "it's not like this is out of the ordinary." He scrolled through his book, grimacing at the sick feeling in his gut. "I can't eat, no one wants to talk to me, and I haven't gotten even a half night's sleep in... what was it? Three – no, four weeks. That's not counting how often I've been going to sleep late by choice, either. I just... don't want to wake up anymore. Everything's too much."

Danny let out a long sigh, and glanced around again, hoping against all odds that someone would actually pay attention to him. Swallowing thickly, he felt the bitterness ebb away and leave a hollow in his chest. How many times had this happened in the last few weeks? More than anyone could put up with, he was sure.

It wasn't just that. "I've told people." He felt twisting pain every time someone brushed him off or ignored the numerous warnings he had been giving out lately. "I've told them how much I want to die. How shitty I feel," he cried silently, yelling out in his mind. He had actually mentioned how he felt in passing, to his parents, and to Mr. Lancer by accident. They all thought he was joking or something. Why couldn't they see that it wasn't just a morbid sense of humor?

"When I'm not busy being a complete failure academically, I'm trying so hard to be noticed by someone. At this point, even a complete stranger asking me how I was doing would be amazing. No one seems to actually care when they ask that. They don't really want to know, it's just a greeting. An obligation that turns into an annoyance if someone answers negatively."

He rolled his shoulders to rid himself of some tension. "I can count the number of times on one hand when someone asked me more after I said I was tired, or not okay," he pondered. "And now..." He searched the lunchroom for any of his friends. Lunch was almost over. "And now, I want to die badly enough to consider killing myself a good option."

When the bell rang to release the students from lunch, he packed up his bag and stood with a wince. The last fight he had was with Skulker, again, and he had new tech to try out on the 'poor little Ghost Boy'. He was pretty sure one of his ribs was cracked from where he was punched into a wall. Nothing new, though. A bruised back, some minor cuts and scrapes, and one, maybe two broken bones. It was a wonder he could still fight three or four times a day, after all of the abuse his poor body had taken from those damn ghosts.

It was weird, though. Skulker seemed more... subdued... than usual. A few hits, and he just left. Maybe the fruitloop had something to do with it, but it didn't sit right with the ghostly teen. He remembered how the ghosts seemed to be easing up during fights. They still came by the dozens, no doubt about that, but their cores didn't seem to be in it, anymore. Kind of like Danny himself. He was exhausted, and it showed.

No one wanted to hear about it any more. Danny had made passing comments about how sick he felt, how depressed he was, how he just wanted someone to listen to him for once. Sam and Tucker eventually got fed up with his constant low mood, and now he had no one to help him patch up his injuries after ghost fights.

It's not like he really needed them. The teen told himself that over and over again, hoping the statement would actually feel true through repetition. Danny could brush off the neglect of his parents always having their noses in experiments and calculations. He could put up with being scolded for his low grades, compared to his genius sister day in and day out. He knew he wasn't like Jazz. He knew his parents' work was important, and that they only wanted to help the town. He was still loved, of course. He was still... wanted...

"I'm not," his traitorous mind whispered. He gripped his hair tightly, tugging on it. He responded harshly to his subconscious. "I am! I am important to people. My parents love me and care about me. I am wanted. Jazz cares. She asks me how I'm doing whenever we talk to each other."

But the voice, his voice, didn't let up. "Stop lying to yourself, Danny. No one cares about Fenton, and half the town hates Phantom. The only reason the ghosts are still coming through the portal is because you're here, after all. No one would need Phantom if you died."

Danny had reached his locker, and aggressively shoved the uneaten lunch in. It was time for Mr. Lancer's class. He had to fake being happy just enough to pass the scrutiny he knew he would face from his two friends. Hah, friends. That was a laugh. All the ghost boy needed to do was not look too miserable, and they'd ignore him. Just like they always did, these days.

He sat in the middle of the classroom, taking his usual seat before zoning out. There wasn't any point in trying, anymore. His grades were down the toilet, after all, his dream of becoming an astronaut was completely impossible for so many reasons that he didn't know where to begin. The biggest one was that he would never pass the physical health tests with his lower body temperature and massive collection of scars.

There was no way his GPA would ever amount to much. The only way any college would accept him was if he suddenly managed to score the highest marks in history on all of his standardized tests. And that? That was impossible. He'd never beat Jazz. She was the genius child, not him.

Abruptly, a book slammed down on his desk. He was jolted out of his thoughts so harshly that he took up a defensive stance, almost changing to Phantom. When he heard a smattering of laughter, he realized there was no danger, except for the threat of detention. Danny sunk low into his seat, feeling even worse than before.

"Ah, Mr. Fenton, welcome back to reality," came his teacher's sarcastic drawl. "I believe that this is the... fifth day in a row that you've daydreamed in class. I let you off with a warning, yesterday, Daniel, and I am disappointed in you. You've earned yourself another detention after school today."

The raven-haired teen groaned and let his head hit the desk. He didn't even fall asleep! "Mom and dad aren't going to be happy when they hear," he thought. His gut clenched in fearful anticipation of the chewing out he'd receive when he got home. "It's not worth the effort to even show up. I'll just get caught up in another ghost fight and break curfew again, anyway."

He let out a resigned sigh and picked up his book. The day was turning out to be hell.

Detention was interrupted by the Box Ghost. At this point, no one was afraid of ol' Boxy. He had shown up so often, and proven himself almost completely harmless, that people mostly ignored him. The only reason Danny was concerned about his sudden appearance was that he usually called the young halfa "Ghost Boy", like Skulker and Technus. He really didn't need Mr. Lancer discovering what he was.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST, ANDー"

"Excuse me, but we are in detention," Mr. Lancer snapped, annoyed. "Go haunt somewhere else." He glared at the ghost, and Danny sighed. Again. He didn't even have it in him to take out his misplaced aggression on the Box Ghost. His head hit the desk with a resounding thump.

The Box Ghost looked around nervously, turned to face Danny, and quickly added, "I will return later, BEWARE!" and then floated quickly through one of the classroom's walls. Mr. Lancer gave the teen an odd look, not that he noticed.

When the detention finally came to an end, the raven-haired boy picked up his bag and shuffled out. He was limping a little, and the sharp pain in his ribs made him grimace. He had to get home before curfew, or he'd be yelled at again.

"I'm going to get punished for getting detention again, anyway," he brooded. "Jazz is off at college now, so Mom and Dad can actually pay more attention to me. Not like they do these days, they're too obsessed with their anti-ghost inventions. I had to destroy three in the last week alone! I don't know how they come up with so many functional ideas..."

Danny frowned. "I hope they've at least stocked up the fridge. I'm not looking forward to missing dinner again."

When Danny opened the front door, he saw that the living room was empty. Looking around, so was the kitchen and all of the upstairs rooms. They were experimenting again. Wonderful.

He pulled open the fridge and groaned. "Why couldn't you take a break to go shopping?" he muttered sadly. There was half a jug of milk, something that was struggling to escape its container, and fudge. Cereal it was.

As the ghost kid was pouring out a bowl of cereal, he felt another wave of misery at his life. His stomach did flip flops, and he closed his eyes, gripping the table for stability. He couldn't eat anymore. The thought of food made him want to throw up. So, he cleaned up the bowl and dumped out the uneaten cereal.

Back in his room, Danny pulled out his medical supplies and checked his injuries from that day's fights. Nothing needed stitches, thank goodness. He tidied up, and tossed his backpack in a corner.

The bottle of painkillers sat on his desk, glaringly obvious.

"Should I...? Mom has some sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet," he wondered. "It's not like anyone would miss me... no one even notices me. It'd be so nice to finally stop fighting all the time. I bet my parents, or Valerie, could handle the odd ghost bent on world domination."

Mind made up, he stood, intending to go get the pills, when his ghost sense went off. The teen considered ignoring it, but he didn't know who it was yet. With a long, suffering sigh, he changed to his ghost form and flew slowly out of his room.

It was the Box Ghost... and Skulker?

"Ghost child! I will have your pelt for a trophy!" the self-proclaimed 'Greatest Hunter' shouted at him. The Box Ghost looked nervously between the two.

"Ghost child, you seem more lifeless than usual!" Boxy called.

Danny's eyes widened in surprise. So, his enemies had noticed his change in behavior more than his friends and family did... "Wow, depressing." He shrugged. "I'm just tired. But you two are still going back to the Ghost Zone!" he shouted in reply, going through the motions. He wasn't really in the mood for witty banter, though.

Skulker narrowed his eyes, watching as Danny blasted the Box Ghost with a couple ecto-bolts. Plasmius would want to know about this. The halfa looked close to disappearing, his aura was dim and his eyes were dull. Even his attacks were weaker. The hunter had seen this before, back in the Ghost Zone. It always happened right before a ghost ceased to exist.

Dragging his mind back to the fight, he powered up his laser wrist cannon and fired at the child. To his surprise, the shot went right through his shoulder with almost no resistance. Skulker knew that Phantom could have dodged that attack, or blocked it with one of his own.

"You aren't fighting back, ghost child! Are you that weak?" he growled, hoping to provoke the child's anger. It didn't work, and Danny just launched another ecto-bolt at him. The Thermos came out, and Skulker beat a hasty retreat before he could be sucked up. He needed to tell the senior halfa about Phantom's condition before something happened, and it could take days before the young ghost released them back into the Ghost Zone.

With one last glance at the fading ghost child, he disappeared into the night.

Danny watched Skulker go, not really feeling anything at his sudden departure. He looked down at the Fenton Thermos in his gloved hand. It would be cruel to kill himself before releasing the Box Ghost back into the Ghost Zone. After all, he was mostly harmless. If Danny didn't release him, he could sit in the Thermos for years, unnoticed. He was slightly disappointed that he couldn't just get it over with, but he tried to look on the bright side of things. This would give him time to write out letters to people, and find a better way to kill himself. The teen had heard that sleeping pills didn't always work, after all.

So, he drifted back to his room silently, more exhausted than before. Fighting just took too much out of him these days.

Skulker arrived at Plasmius' mansion around three hours later. Wisconsin wasn't that far away, after all, and his jetpack gave him a good boost in speed. He just hoped that the older halfa was home that evening, and that he wouldn't be angry at being disturbed.

The mansion staff, all ghosts, directed him to a study on the third floor. Skulker paused for a moment, wondering if it was really the best idea to tell his employer about Phantom's very obvious changes. Maybe he had already noticed them...? But whether the half-ghost had already noticed, Skulker needed to tell him what it meant. A ghost's disappearance was always a sad thing, even for people who didn't like the ghost. It wasn't moving on, no. It happened when the ghost lost every shred of hope, the will to live deserted them. They weren't in the afterlife. They were... gone.

So, the hunter gently knocked on the door.

A low drawl answered, "Come in, Skulker. I believe you have something to tell me?"

He opened the door and entered cautiously. "Yes. Have you noticed the changes in the ghost child's behavior lately?" he replied bluntly, probing to see what the other man knew. When Vlad rose his eyebrows in curiosity, he continued. "Phantom's aura is dull, his attacks are weaker, and he is very... apathetic. These are all signs of one thing, Plasmius."

Vlad frowned, thinking. "I don't know what you're referring to, Skulker. Please, explain what these things are signs for," he asked. He took out a notepad and scribbled down the 'symptoms' for further investigation.

Skulker sighed. "Danny Phantom is fading, Plasmius. As in, he has lost the will to live, and will cease to exist soon."

"W-what?" Vlad had dropped his pen in shock. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard right..."

"You did," the ghost replied sadly. "The ghost child will fade out of existence if nothing is done soon. I didn't even know it was possible for a halfa to fade, but apparently, it is. You must do something if you do not want him to die, permanently."

Vlad looked down at the notepad. He thought about Daniel and how he seemed more distant lately. Had it really become that bad for the child? How had he not noticed himself? He needed more information.

"Tell me more about this... fading. What happens to the ghosts that fade?" he asked.

Skulker leaned against the door frame. "The ghosts who fade don't go on to the afterlife. It's painful to watch, and I've seen it happen a few times. They cease to exist, Plasmius. Complete and total oblivion. Their soul gets destroyed, effectively. It's much like a human's suicide, except... more final. There's nothing you can do once it happens."

Vlad growled. "And here I thought he'd never give up. Why couldn't he just ask for help? He's so frustrating, sometimes. Doesn't he know there are people who care about him?" he ranted, jumping up to pace. "What will I do without the little badger to make life more interesting? Everything would be too easy without him to challenge me. And Madeline! She would be devastated, of course. I need to pay him a visit. Daniel isn't going out so easily!"

He shifted, black rings spreading across his form and changing him into Plasmius. He cast a glance at Skulker. "Thank you for informing me. I will see what I can do to help him. I'm not going to let him disappear when I'm still around to stop it."

As he left for Amity Park, Vlad couldn't help but wonder how Daniel's parents missed it.

Danny pulled out a notebook and a pen. He stared at the blank page, looked back to the thermos sitting innocently on his bed, and then went back to staring at the page. He had no idea what to write. He didn't have anything he wanted to say. Everything just didn't matter.

"I guess I could start with an apology to Jazz," he mumbled. His sister seemed to be the only one who still worried about him, after all. "I also need to explain to my parents what I am, I guess. They shouldn't find out from someone else."

So, he picked up the pen and began to write.

Hi.

Well, everyone. I don't really have anything to say. I'm only writing this because I have to let the Box Ghost out of the Fenton Thermos before I die. No one, human or otherwise deserves that kind of hell. Years spent trapped in a small space can't be fun.

First, I'd like to apologize to my sister, Jazz. Everyone else doesn't seem to care about me. You're the only one who still worries, I guess, and I'm sorry that my death will hurt you. I'm just too tired of this. I hope you get the career you want, and maybe a family, too. This one certainly isn't the best.

Second, to my parents, I'd like to say I love you, but I can't. You two always have your noses buried in your experiments and run off hunting ghosts at the slightest mention. You're too busy to even notice that your own son comes home injured most nights, or that he's flat-out told you that he doesn't want to live. Yeah, I've said that to your faces before, and you didn't even acknowledge me. There's only one thing I can associate with the two of you, and that's the word "neglect". Sorry, but I just don't love you any more.

Sam, Tucker, you two have started to ignore me more an more. I'm sorry you had to get tired of my complaining, but I didn't have anyone else to vent to. My only question is why? Why did you always brush me off when I admitted to feeling like shit? Do you two know how low my self-esteem has gotten thanks to you two, Dash, and all the other A-Listers? Probably not.

Lastly, I have some explaining to do.

I am the ghost boy, Danny Phantom.

I am half-ghost. I got this way thanks to the Fenton Portal. Dad, you put the "on" switch on the inside. 10,000 volts of electricity and ectoplasm doesn't feel that nice. So yeah, now I'm half-ghost. And believe me, Mom & Dad, not all ghosts are bad. They're a lot like people, just with special powers. Like me. So every time I came home after curfew, or I fell asleep in class, or I was late to school? That was because I had to fight ghosts all of the time, because they woke me up in the middle of the night, because youshot at me and refused to believe in the possibility that I was even remotely good. Thank you for that.

Vlad. I don't even know why I'm writing anything for you, you crazy fruitloop. I guess I was disappointed that you couldn't be my mentor without me renouncing my dad. I could've learned so much from you, but now I'll only ever see you as an enemy.

So, I've explained everything. If you want details on my life as Phantom, ask Jazz, Sam, and Tucker. My "friends" knew since the beginning. I hope you'll all be able to move on quickly, something tells me that my death won't impact you that badly. I hope I won't come back as a full ghost. That would make this pointless...

Sorry, and... goodbye.

Danny read the note again, making sure he hadn't missed anything. He felt heavy, tired to his core. He slumped over the desk, resting his head in his arms, and slept. There wasn't anything worth staying awake for, anyway. Hearing his parents come up the stairs would wake him up, and then he could get a knife, the sleeping pills, and let the Box Ghost go.

Everything was set.

Vlad rushed to Amity Park at his top speed. He knew that he'd probably have some time, due to the Box Ghost being captured. Daniel was too kind and merciful for his own good, he would need to release the ghost into the Ghost Zone before doing anything drastic. He just hoped that there would be enough time to talk to the child and evaluate his mental state.

The more he thought about it, the more the man realised that there was something wrong with Daniel. He hadn't seen either of the boy's friends over the past few weeks, when they used to help him in almost every fight. Jack and Maddie had seemed completely normal, but that wasn't the best, either. He knew they had the habit of forgetting about other people when involved in experiments. It brought to mind his years in the hospital with no visitors, Jack and Maddie off somewhere else. He was still bitter about that.

So, Daniel was being ignored by his friends and family. That wasn't all that surprising, actually. Vlad had discovered that the only people who regularly talked to him were the ghosts he fought on a regular basis. Skulker was a good source of information, since he usually fought the child once or twice a day.

Vlad mentally prepared a whole argument on why Daniel was important and needed to stay in the world of the living. He didn't know if it would work, but he would do his best.

Danny, as he expected, was awoken abruptly by the sound of his dad's footsteps on the creaky stairs. The featherlight taps of his mom's feet followed shortly after, and he grabbed the Fenton Thermos. It was time.

Tapping into his ghost powers, he turned invisible and flew downstairs. The lab was a mess, but that didn't matter. He wouldn't have to clean it up, after all. Death kinda got rid of family obligations like chores and homework. It was a quick thing to empty the Thermos, and he was relieved at how easy this had been.

Back up in the kitchen, he stopped to grab a knife and the sleeping pills. He wanted to be sure his suicide would work, after all. It wouldn't be the first time he completely failed at something. All anyone had to do was look at his grades to know that.

He decided to walk up the stairs, pausing to look back at the darkened living room. This was his home, but he was an outsider in it, now. He didn't belong here. He didn't belong anywhere, except maybe with Vlad, but the man could never be anything but an enemy. He had scars from the other half-ghost.

Slowly, he climbed the stairs, listening to the quiet creaking of the wood. He got a glass of water from the bathroom to help down the pills. Sitting on the end of his bed, he tried to remember what he had looked up about major blood vessels in the neck. The carotid artery would let him bleed out the fastest, if he could cut it.

Taking a deep breath, he considered his death one final time. "I can't think of anything that'd make me want to stay. I don't have a future, aside from ghost hunting, My friends have abandoned me, and my family ignores me. What else is there?"

He downed all of the pills, taking a swig of water from the cup, and pressed the knife against his throat. Danny summoned all of his ghostly strength and courage and plunged it into his neck, gasping in pain. It was quite a bit more painful than most of his injuries from ghost fighting, but he had a very high pain tolerance these days. As the teen collapsed on the bed behind him, he smiled softly.

Finally, he was free.

He looked at the small figure splayed across the bed. There was a bottle of pills on the side table, open and empty, and a bloody knife in the child's hand. His throat was stained with red, the blood seeping into his clothes and the sheets beneath him. He looked so pale and fragile at that moment. So broken and delicate.

Vlad barely made it to the chair in front of Daniel's desk before his knees gave out. He was hit by a wave of grief so strong he had to change back to his human form. The billionaire had never expected the young boy he wanted for a son to go through with it before he reached the Fentons'.

He struggled to breath. The tightness in his chest was overwhelming, and tears formed in his eyes against his will. Daniel was gone. The little badger who called him fruitloop and fought him to protect his father was dead, and by his own hand.

He noticed the letter, sitting innocently on the desk beside him. Vlad ran a hand over his immaculate silver hair, pulling a few strands out from the low tail it was always in. He couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Daniel wanted to be his apprentice...? And he had ruined that, he had ruined everything that could have been by being so stubborn.

Gathering the strength to stand, Vlad thought about how to tell Jack and Maddie. He didn't have a good reason to be inside their house, after all. Maybe, if he made an excuse about Daniel calling him to say goodbye? Oh, he wished that had happened. If it had, the man might've been able to talk the little badger out of it.

He decided that that was the best option. He pulled a discarded blanket from the floor and gently laid it over the child's slight form. They didn't need to see it for themselves. At least, not without warning.

It was hard to take that short walk down the hall to where he knew Daniel's parents slept, blissfully unaware of what awaited them. There was no easy way to tell a parent that their child was dead, after all. The only consolation Vlad had was that the poor boy's ghost half was fading, as well. He truly did want to die.

His mind prepared, Vlad raised a fist and knocked on the door. Jack mumbled something, and someone walked over to see what they were needed for. The door swung open to reveal Madeline in a loose bathrobe, but the thought of glancing down didn't even cross his mind.

"Maddie. Daniel called me, and... well, wake your husband. You'll need each other for support," he stated, voice raw. Clearing his throat, he looked down at the floor. "I'll‒ I'll be in the living room. Don't enter Daniel's room yet, please. Just... don't."

She was awake enough to notice his red eyes, and the slightly off tone of voice. Nodding, she gingerly shut the door and woke her husband. Vlad walked back past Danny's room and closed the door to ensure they came straight to the living room. He only hoped they would listen to him and do what he asked.

The man had folded up the letter Danny had written and tucked it in his jacket. He would give it to them later. Once he had explained.

His head snapped up when he heard the creak of stairs. Maddie's expression was a mixture of suspicion and concern. Jack just looked sleepy, and Vlad mentally snorted. Of course he would not be worried in the slightest. The great fool.

When they were seated on the couch, he finally began. "Daniel called me earlier this evening. I wondered why in the world he would, since he isn't very fond of me, but... he did. After the phone call, I came straight here. There's no easy way to tell you this... and I'm sorry. Hearing this from me would be better than discovering it yourself."

Jack and Maddie both looked fearful and worried. Vlad took a deep breath, and prepared to break their hearts. "Daniel is dead. He took his own life not even an hour ago."

Jack froze. He looked remarkably stiff, and no emotion showed except for shock. Vlad almost wanted to give the massive man a hug. It was painful to see.

Maddie, however, began crying silently. Tears streamed down her face, and her hands rose to cover her mouth in a clear expression of horror. Her shoulders shook and she visibly crumpled in on herself.

Vlad knew it was a bad time, but he had to respect Daniel's wishes and allow them to read the letter. If he didn't give it to them now, he would probably keep it secret until the end of his days. They would find out about his ghost half, and probably be hurt worse than before. It was heartless, but after reading it himself... he felt justified.

"Daniel wrote a letter," he commented, pulling it out of his jacket. He noticed his hand was shaking slightly as he handed it to Maddie, who grabbed onto it like a lifeline. She was in for a big surprise, and his heart went out to them.

He was a silent observer as they visibly went through pain, shock, regret, grief, and guilt. His ghost side was picking up on their negative emotions and refreshing him ever so slightly, just enough for the half-ghost to be able to go back to Daniel's room.

When they were done, he led them up the stairs. No questions were asked, and for that, he was thankful. He wouldn't be able to answer them at the moment.

It was a good idea to put a sheet over Daniel, he learned. Just seeing it, and knowing who was under it, was enough to bring Maddie to her knees. It took another five minutes for her to stand again.

She noticed the bottle of pills on the bedside table. "Is th-that..." she asked in a whisper.

Vlad nodded. "That's not... all he did, Maddie. Are you sure you want to see?"

The woman nodded, face determined. "Show me... show me my son."

Closing his eyes, he pulled back the sheet, allowing the two parents to see exactly what had become of their only son. The half-ghost didn't want to see their reactions. He had gone through enough that evening. He heard enough to last him a lifetime. Maddie began to sob openly at the sight, and there was a loud thud. Jack had slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a deep crack in the blue-painted drywall.

When Vlad opened his eyes, he carefully reached over and gently removed the knife from Daniel's throat, cursing himself for not having the foresight to do it earlier. It was a wide kitchen knife, still in good condition. He doubted it had been used much before this.

"H-He'll come back, right?" Maddie asked hoarsely. She looked up at Vlad from her position on the floor, eyes full of desperation. "He has to, he's my baby!" she cried.

Vlad knelt next to her. "Madeline, Daniel won't be coming back. His ghost half was fading away," he explained. "If a ghost fades, they eventually blink out of existence. Daniel won't be making another appearance as Phantom. He's gone."

Jack swore. "We did this to him, didn't we?!"

Vlad didn't know how to respond. He had never seen Jack act like this before, and the truth was, while they weren't the only reason, the little badger's parents did have a large role in Daniel's demise. There was no way he would tell them that, though.

So, Vlad left them alone with their son's body. He needed to make calls, get the paperwork taken care of, and begin planning the inevitable funeral service. Jasmine would need to be told, and so would the school. He would need to find a way to tell the town that Danny Phantom would not be back. They lost a citizen and their hero in one tragic event.

The only thing the man could think of was how life would go on without Daniel in it, and how it felt so wrong. A family lost a member, some people lost a friend, a classmate, and he lost a rival, a friend, and the only person he considered family.