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Description
So I just posted this in my journal, so sue me. I was bored during my *sarcasam* completely interesting */sarcasam* class today and doodled. It goes well with the story.

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Graveside Contemplations
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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A mother sat in the still darkness of the night, staring vacantly at the tombstone of her only son. She hadn’t moved in hours, her eyes never wavering from the flowing lines of text on the dark stone. Alone, she contemplated the misery of what had happened.

A form shimmered into view, standing beside her, head tipped as he gazed at the tombstone as well. The boy’s sharp, white hair tousled in a slight breeze as he crossed his legs and sank to the damp ground. Silent time stretched between them – the ghost and his hunter – before either spoke. “It’s a strange feeling, being dead,” the ghost whispered.

The mother turned her dazed expression to the boy. For the first time, her eyes were clear of the almost-hatred she had held for the ghost. “What?” she breathed.

Their voices were soft, barely disturbing the echoing quiet of the full moon as it shone down silvery against the land. “Being dead. I never expected it to feel like this.” A small smile filtered onto his face. “You’d think I would have known, but I didn’t.”

“What’s it like?” her gazed drifted back to the only physical remnant of her son.

“Distant,” the ghost murmured. “You can still feel, you still understand, but it’s like your emotions are a hundred miles away. There is a rift between you and your life.”

She bit her lip. “You stop caring?”

“No,” he sighed, “never. But it’s more like watching someone else care, and knowing you should care too.”

They were silent, watching the shadows from the tree play across the black stone, small sparkles dancing like stars. It was a comfortable stillness, a peace extended between hunter and prey.

“Is my son a ghost?” she finally asked, her voice breaking.

The ghost turned to look at her, green eyes sparkling softly. “Yes.”

A tear crept out of her eye and was left alone as it trickled swiftly down her cheek. The ghost reached forward, a cold finger brushing the wetness from her face. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, “he’s fine.”

The mother looked away from him, the ache in her stomach nearly unbearable. “Will he come to see me?”

“No.” The answer, though short and definite, was filled with compassion.

“Why not?”

There was an impossible question to answer, and they both knew it. The ghost gazed at the tombstone, waiting for a dozen breaths to speak. “Most ghosts never leave the ghost zone.” His voice was incredibly soft, yet it carried perfectly in the almost-still night. “We belong there.”

She nodded absently, turning her pain filled eyes to his. “You left.”

“My only tie to the human world is gone,” the specter nodded at the dark stone, the sparkle leaving his eyes for a moment. “Tonight I’m going back to the ghost zone and staying there – where I belong.”

“What will you do?”

Emerald eyes smiled at her. “Sit around for an eternity, contemplating all the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘might-have-beens’ like a good ghost.”

“Won’t you ever come back?”

“Probably not. But perhaps someday, when everyone I know is gone. Come back to see what has changed and what has stayed the same, come back to see how time has passed me by. If I ever do, it will be far in the future – not in your lifetime, I’m sure.”

The mother sat still, her eyes begging the ghost for more.

“Your son understands. Ghosts belong in the ghost zone, not torturing the loved ones they’ve left behind. He’s got a new life and needs to leave his old one behind.”

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” she whispered brokenly, turning away as tears flowed unchecked once more.

“We all just want to say goodbye,” the phantom murmured, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging his legs tightly. “But we never get to, not the way we want to.” He stared at the back of the mother’s head for the longest time, pain filling his expression while she could not see.

By the time she turned back around, wiping her face dry, he was calm and collected once more. Together they sat, sharing the night, listening to the blessed silence of the graveyard.

“Will you see him?”

The ghost nodded, his white hair flopping into his eyes.

“Can you give him a message?”

“Definitely.” His electric eyes were serious as he turned to look at her.

“Would you tell him I loved him… and that I miss him?”

A smile crossed his face, his eyes sparkling with starlight. “Of course,” he murmured. “But I’m sure he knew that already.”

“I’d feel better if I knew for sure.”

“I’ll tell him,” the ghost whispered. “I’m sure he loves you too.”

“I know,” the longing in her voice making it hard to hear. “But I miss him so much.”

Around the pair, the world moved, its heart beating in time to an unheard rhythm. Thrust out of step, the ghost waited in silence, a lone castaway in the land of the living. He watched the mother, a distant echo of her longing showing on his face. Slowly, he tore himself away from her, the aching desire to live – if only for a moment longer – retreating back behind the remote façade of the dead.

He rocked himself to his heels, reaching forwards to trace the name carved on the stone with one chilled finger. “You know, he died a hero.”

“A hero?” she repeated softly.

“He gave his life doing what was right. You shouldn’t grieve for him.” The specter smiled sadly, his fingers drifting over the name once more, setting it into his mind for the rest of time. “He saved hundreds of people by sacrificing his life.”

“He shouldn’t have had to.” Her voice was hoarse, raw, and trembling.

“But he did.” A small sigh escaped his lips. “He chose to save those people, knowing the risks, fully aware he might not live through it.”

The mother sniffled, rubbing her nose on her sleeve. “He died,” she mumbled.

“Yes, but he knew it was worth it. The people he loved more than anything are still alive because of what he did.” He was silent, glancing over his shoulder at her. “He never regretted it for a moment, never looked back, never would have made any other choice. Your son was a hero, through and through. He died doing what he knew needed to be done, he wouldn’t want you to suffer now.”

“I can’t help it,” she whispered, “my son is dead.”

“But you are alive.” He leaned back onto his heels, head down, his face hidden by a cascade of muddled hair. “And that’s what matters.”

“I disagree,” she breathed, letting the silence descend around them once more, wrapping them up in a dark cloak of tranquility.

“I have to go,” the ghost finally whispered, breaking the silence, his voice sad.

The mother smiled faintly. “Until we meet again, then.”

The phantom stood up, holding out his hand to shake. “You won’t ever see me again.” When she grasped his cold hand, he smiled, a cool tear trickling out of his eye as his distant expression crumbled for a second. “Goodbye.”

And so they stood, mother and son, hands clasped over the grave, moonlight shining around them. For an eternal heartbeat, time stood still in the graveyard, a silent homage to a young hero.

And then Danny Phantom, champion of Amity Park, vanished – never to be seen again.

Description
So I just posted this in my journal, so sue me. I was bored during my *sarcasam* completely interesting */sarcasam* class today and doodled. It goes well with the story.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Graveside Contemplations
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

-------------------------------------------------------------------

A mother sat in the still darkness of the night, staring vacantly at the tombstone of her only son. She hadn’t moved in hours, her eyes never wavering from the flowing lines of text on the dark stone. Alone, she contemplated the misery of what had happened.

A form shimmered into view, standing beside her, head tipped as he gazed at the tombstone as well. The boy’s sharp, white hair tousled in a slight breeze as he crossed his legs and sank to the damp ground. Silent time stretched between them – the ghost and his hunter – before either spoke. “It’s a strange feeling, being dead,” the ghost whispered.

The mother turned her dazed expression to the boy. For the first time, her eyes were clear of the almost-hatred she had held for the ghost. “What?” she breathed.

Their voices were soft, barely disturbing the echoing quiet of the full moon as it shone down silvery against the land. “Being dead. I never expected it to feel like this.” A small smile filtered onto his face. “You’d think I would have known, but I didn’t.”

“What’s it like?” her gazed drifted back to the only physical remnant of her son.

“Distant,” the ghost murmured. “You can still feel, you still understand, but it’s like your emotions are a hundred miles away. There is a rift between you and your life.”

She bit her lip. “You stop caring?”

“No,” he sighed, “never. But it’s more like watching someone else care, and knowing you should care too.”

They were silent, watching the shadows from the tree play across the black stone, small sparkles dancing like stars. It was a comfortable stillness, a peace extended between hunter and prey.

“Is my son a ghost?” she finally asked, her voice breaking.

The ghost turned to look at her, green eyes sparkling softly. “Yes.”

A tear crept out of her eye and was left alone as it trickled swiftly down her cheek. The ghost reached forward, a cold finger brushing the wetness from her face. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, “he’s fine.”

The mother looked away from him, the ache in her stomach nearly unbearable. “Will he come to see me?”

“No.” The answer, though short and definite, was filled with compassion.

“Why not?”

There was an impossible question to answer, and they both knew it. The ghost gazed at the tombstone, waiting for a dozen breaths to speak. “Most ghosts never leave the ghost zone.” His voice was incredibly soft, yet it carried perfectly in the almost-still night. “We belong there.”

She nodded absently, turning her pain filled eyes to his. “You left.”

“My only tie to the human world is gone,” the specter nodded at the dark stone, the sparkle leaving his eyes for a moment. “Tonight I’m going back to the ghost zone and staying there – where I belong.”

“What will you do?”

Emerald eyes smiled at her. “Sit around for an eternity, contemplating all the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘might-have-beens’ like a good ghost.”

“Won’t you ever come back?”

“Probably not. But perhaps someday, when everyone I know is gone. Come back to see what has changed and what has stayed the same, come back to see how time has passed me by. If I ever do, it will be far in the future – not in your lifetime, I’m sure.”

The mother sat still, her eyes begging the ghost for more.

“Your son understands. Ghosts belong in the ghost zone, not torturing the loved ones they’ve left behind. He’s got a new life and needs to leave his old one behind.”

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” she whispered brokenly, turning away as tears flowed unchecked once more.

“We all just want to say goodbye,” the phantom murmured, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging his legs tightly. “But we never get to, not the way we want to.” He stared at the back of the mother’s head for the longest time, pain filling his expression while she could not see.

By the time she turned back around, wiping her face dry, he was calm and collected once more. Together they sat, sharing the night, listening to the blessed silence of the graveyard.

“Will you see him?”

The ghost nodded, his white hair flopping into his eyes.

“Can you give him a message?”

“Definitely.” His electric eyes were serious as he turned to look at her.

“Would you tell him I loved him… and that I miss him?”

A smile crossed his face, his eyes sparkling with starlight. “Of course,” he murmured. “But I’m sure he knew that already.”

“I’d feel better if I knew for sure.”

“I’ll tell him,” the ghost whispered. “I’m sure he loves you too.”

“I know,” the longing in her voice making it hard to hear. “But I miss him so much.”

Around the pair, the world moved, its heart beating in time to an unheard rhythm. Thrust out of step, the ghost waited in silence, a lone castaway in the land of the living. He watched the mother, a distant echo of her longing showing on his face. Slowly, he tore himself away from her, the aching desire to live – if only for a moment longer – retreating back behind the remote façade of the dead.

He rocked himself to his heels, reaching forwards to trace the name carved on the stone with one chilled finger. “You know, he died a hero.”

“A hero?” she repeated softly.

“He gave his life doing what was right. You shouldn’t grieve for him.” The specter smiled sadly, his fingers drifting over the name once more, setting it into his mind for the rest of time. “He saved hundreds of people by sacrificing his life.”

“He shouldn’t have had to.” Her voice was hoarse, raw, and trembling.

“But he did.” A small sigh escaped his lips. “He chose to save those people, knowing the risks, fully aware he might not live through it.”

The mother sniffled, rubbing her nose on her sleeve. “He died,” she mumbled.

“Yes, but he knew it was worth it. The people he loved more than anything are still alive because of what he did.” He was silent, glancing over his shoulder at her. “He never regretted it for a moment, never looked back, never would have made any other choice. Your son was a hero, through and through. He died doing what he knew needed to be done, he wouldn’t want you to suffer now.”

“I can’t help it,” she whispered, “my son is dead.”

“But you are alive.” He leaned back onto his heels, head down, his face hidden by a cascade of muddled hair. “And that’s what matters.”

“I disagree,” she breathed, letting the silence descend around them once more, wrapping them up in a dark cloak of tranquility.

“I have to go,” the ghost finally whispered, breaking the silence, his voice sad.

The mother smiled faintly. “Until we meet again, then.”

The phantom stood up, holding out his hand to shake. “You won’t ever see me again.” When she grasped his cold hand, he smiled, a cool tear trickling out of his eye as his distant expression crumbled for a second. “Goodbye.”

And so they stood, mother and son, hands clasped over the grave, moonlight shining around them. For an eternal heartbeat, time stood still in the graveyard, a silent homage to a young hero.

And then Danny Phantom, champion of Amity Park, vanished – never to be seen again.