Eyes by bloombaby26
disclaimer- I don't own Danny Phantom, but Butch Hartman does.
The blue eyes were staring. It was a piercing gaze, one filled with a tumult of emotions. There was sadness, hate, and guilt deep within the blue. And there was also fear. Fear of their rejection. Fear of their hate. The eyes had an intense focus. But most of all, these eyes were unseeing. The eyes saw the friendly faces before him, trying to offer comfort, reassurance and support, even love. But they did not really see. They just stared and stared and stared. And neither of the two other pairs of eyes in the room had the strength to meet the unwavering gaze. The amethyst orbs had tried once, with a soft murmur and her fingertips on his shoulder, but the unblinking force had frightened her and she backed off, hesitantly. The bespectacled eyes had hardly tried to reach the ocean blue, and behind the glass those eyes were beginning to drift too. Not with the same rolling emotions, but a different feeling was drowning them. A feeling of helplessness.
The room was thick with apprehension. It was silent but for the shallow breathing of the three children. They sat. One, a boy, fiddled with his latest gadget. He pretended he was playing with it, but he couldn't even work up the courage to turn it on. Not now. Not here.
The anxiety of the girl was all too evident. The stiffness of her posture and the slight bite of her teeth on her bottom lip, said more words than had been uttered in the room for the entirety of the day. She wrung her fidgeting hands, and was looking back and forth between them and the third child in the room.
But, maybe it is better to say that this child was not a child. He was young. Oh so very young. If you were to pass him on the street you would think he was no different than any other child. Foolish, and a bit clumsy perhaps, but a child nonetheless. Now, he was no longer a child. How could he be? How could someone who was only half living, breathing flesh and half otherworldly spirit of the dead, be called a child? How could a half boy, half ghost be a child? He was young. But he had lost the innocence of his childhood when he had lost the other half of his human self. How could anyone call him a child? How could anyone call him their own child?
That unblinking blue stare, so strong and constant, suddenly filled with unshed tears. A different type of salt water met the ocean blue orbs. The eyes wavered but they did not let the tears fall.
The footsteps of his parents broke the young ones from their thoughts. There stood his father. The brave man who loved his family so much, who loved his only son with all of his heart. The same man who dedicated his life to hunting ghosts, devoted to destroying any spirit he encountered. And by his side was his mother. The one who sang to him when he was little, the one who held him when he cried, and told him that everything would be alright and that mommy was here and mommy loves you…mommy loves you……mommy loves you………
"Hunny, you said you had something important to tell us?" His mother and father sat down next to him. His breath hitched in his chest. The other two children in the room stared, praying with all their hearts that their friend would not be abandoned by his family. They hoped that he knew, and they tried to tell him with their amethyst and bespectacled eyes, that they would never abandon him. They would always love him, even if his parents would not. But he was not looking at their eyes. He was looking at clenched hands in his lap, his eyes still not letting the tears fall.
"Hunny?" A gentle hand was placed on his arm. His mother's hand. The hand that had cradled him as a child and brushed away his tears. But that was years ago. It seemed he cried more now than he had when he was a child. And his mother never knew. She was oblivious to the pain that was tearing her only son apart. He no longer felt her caring hands when he broke down at night. But she's my mother, a part of him screamed.
But would she still call me her child?
It was merely a whisper in his head, but it was enough. And it ate him, consumed him, killed him.
His eyes had hardened. The salty wetness was gone.
But they were still unseeing.
"I got an A on my chemistry final." His voice, like his blue, blue eyes, was dead.
Several moments later, the room had returned to its deep, apprehensive silence. The air was thick and heavy, smothering the children and the one with the unseeing eyes. They were drowning and no one could save them. No one could save them.
The blue eyes closed briefly, halting the gaze of tumbled emotions. When they opened, the ocean blue was gone. And there was only green.
Authors Note- This is my first real story. Be nice please?