Memory

A Danny Phantom Fanfic by Cori

What's a memory worth?

Epilogue

It had been nearly three weeks since Vlad's death. The millionaire's demise had been splattered all over the news for days, although the whole thing was eventually attributed to nothing more than an industrial 'accident'. A white-dressed, severe-looking woman had showed up a few days after the incident with thick stacks of paperwork that stated that if none of the Fentons spoke about what they had seen or experienced, the government wouldn't bring forwards charges in Vlad's murder.

During the daylight hours, Maddie found things to occupy her mind. Small experiments. Talking with her son. Tinkering on whatever little invention was lying on the table.

But at night, when the house went quiet and the shadows crept in, Maddie's mind ran in endless little loops. Over and over she felt the warm gush of blood on her hand, the stickiness of it as it dried on her skin. She could hear the click of the button under her finger and Vlad's screams as he died.

Those screams always merged into Danny's, red eyes turning green, evilness fading away until she was holding onto the remote and killing her own child. The image never failed to jolt her out of whatever daze she had slipped into.

Maddie pushed herself out of bed for the third time that night, glancing blearily at the clock. It was barely midnight. Leaving Jack to sleep, she slipped from the room and wandered down the hallway, pausing at her son's bedroom door long enough to spot his shape under the covers and listen to his slow, steady breathing.

Down in the living room, Maddie sank into the couch and reached for the remote. With the TV turned on and flooding the room with bright, flickering light, she arranged a blanket around her legs and found a place for her head to rest. She flipped aimlessly through the channels.

She didn't notice the person standing quietly by the stairs until he walked across the room and settled down next to her. It wasn't until he stole part of her blanket that she looked up to see who it was. "Oh, Danny. Did I wake you?"

"No," he said, although the tiredness in his eyes told her that was probably a lie. He yawned and stared blankly at the TV for a long, quiet moment. "You really do need to sleep, you know."

She hummed a noncommittal response. It wasn't as if she hadn't been trying to sleep. The memories of what happened just seemed to haunt her more than they troubled the rest of her family. Jack had spent two days in a funk before seeming to shrug off the entire experience. But that was just his personality. Nothing phased Jack for more than a few hours. It was her children that Maddie worried about more.

Jazz had gone back to college and called every day - more out of concern for Maddie's mental health than anything. Danny, after a few frantic phone calls to his old friends to make sure they were alive, had simply put the whole thing behind him and seemed to not be bothered by it at all. Their almost blase reaction to this said horrible things about what they'd been through over the years.

"Do you think you're going to be okay?"

Maddie blinked, looking away from the nothingness on TV to stare at her son. The boy's face was creased with concern. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Doesn't… really seem like it," Danny muttered. He picked at the edge of the blanket, chewing on his lip. "You're not sleeping. You're not really eating…" he trailed off. "I'm worried about you."

She smiled, reached over, and patted his leg. "I'll be fine, Sweetie. I just need to get the memories out of my head a bit more." She turned back to the TV, finally realizing she'd stopped on an infomercial. Flipping the channel a few more times, she tried to find something that would distract her mind.

"I could do that."

Maddie wrinkled her forehead, glancing at her son. "What?"

He shrugged, not looking up at her. "I mean, I've done it before. I could… you know… get rid of some of your memories." He plucked a string on the blanket. "Doesn't really seem worth it to keep them, with you like this."

"And just forget?" she whispered. She admitted to herself that the idea did have a bit of appeal. But she shook her head and laughed softly. "To forget about you? And what Vlad really was? I'll trade a few sleepless nights for that knowledge any day."

"But you're not getting better. And I was talking to Jazz and-"

Maddie reached forwards and pressed a finger to her son's lips, quieting him. "I'll be fine," she said firmly.

He didn't look at all convinced. But he kept his mouth shut and just sat there, watching her. Maddie shook her head and sighed, wondering what sort of psychobabble nonsense Jazz had been pumping into his brain. Probably a bunch of vague worries that Danny only half-understood. The girl had always been good at getting Danny anxious over nothing.

"I'm going to watch a movie," she said, realizing she'd been through the channels several times and had found nothing of interest to watch. She pulled herself off the couch to flip through the movie collection. "Are you going to stay up with me?"

"For awhile," he said.

"Preference?"

He shook his head.

Maddie picked out a movie pretty much at random and popped it in, settling back down next to her son. He was warm and solid in the darkness. As the previews came on and Maddie started to flick through them, she sighed. "How are Sam and Tucker doing?" she asked.

"Fine. I think Tucker's going to take the weekend to come home and yell at me in person now that he knows what's been going on. That'll be an epic explosion. Then I'm sure he'll make me buy him all sorts of food from the Nasty Burger and try to talk me into moving out to college with him. Sam…" he didn't finish the sentence. He didn't really need to. The girl had taken Danny pushing her away much deeper than Tucker had, and had a deep grudge built up. Quite likely their friendship was over for good.

"I'm sure I'll be able to hear Tucker from a mile away," Maddie said gently. "Maybe you can borrow Jack's earplugs."

Danny laughed softly. "There's an idea."

"And maybe you really should think about going someplace," she continued. "Get a fresh start."

On the screen the movie started to play. When Danny didn't answer, she turned to look at him. In the flickering light of the TV, she could still see the faint scar on his cheek where Vlad had sliced him open. He noticed her gaze and glanced at her. "Maybe," he said finally, shrugging. "Once everything settles back down."

She took that as a response for now, but made a mental note to not let the issue drop. Resting her head on the back of the couch, she folded her legs up underneath her and settled in to watch the movie. It was one she'd seen dozens of times - well enough to speak the dialog along with the characters - and her brain would easily be able to turn off and allow her to get a few hours of sleep.

Her eyes slowly drifted closed, her mind moving in empty little circles as the well-worn movie played in the background.

Something cold drifted across the nape of her neck, but she didn't care enough to open her eyes to find out what it might have been.

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Maddie pushed herself out of bed and yawned, stretching and feeling her back creak and crack. The heavy warmth of Jack's presence was already gone from the room. She must have slept in.

Snagging some clothes, Maddie headed towards the bathroom, starting to go through the list of things she needed to do that day. Finish up the invention in the basement, and get started on that grant. And bake those cookies - Jack had been pestering her for days about them.

Part way down the hallway, one of the doors opened right in front of her and Danny stumbled out of the hallway bathroom. "Woah, sorry," he said, nearly tripping over her. He chuckled and rubbed at his wet hair with a towel. "How are you feeling?"

Slightly confused by the question, Maddie arched an eyebrow at her son. "Fine," she said. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You…" he seemed to stumble over his words, searching for something to say. "You slept late." He let the towel fall down around his shoulders and gave her a sheepish smile. "Dad's been downstairs screwing up breakfast for nearly an hour."

"Uh-huh," she said. Then she took a small step forwards and traced a faint scar that ran from Danny's temple down over his cheek to nearly his chin. The sight of it stirred something in her mind.

Danny tensed.

"Where did you get this?" she asked. "I don't remember seeing it before."

His shoulders relaxed at the question. He gave her a vague smile, shrugged, and said, "I've had it for awhile. I guess I don't really remember."

What's a memory worth?