Disclaimer: I don't own the universe of Danny Phantom or any of the characters.


It's all fun and games


"It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt." – How true that rang.

He had never imagined how true until just now. He doubted that anyone had. Her least of all and she had been the one saying it the most.

If she had believed her own words, they wouldn't be here now. She wouldn't have had that mockingly smile on her lips as the words passed them by, that twinkle in her eyes. No, she would have stopped it if that had been the case. Now he wished they had heeded the warning however teasingly it had flown among them.

It had been all fun and games for a long time, however, dangerous their trials were.

They had enjoyed every part of their neck-breaking adventures and fight for survival in their closed-off little part of the world, their tiny Universe.
They hadn't not been hurt in the process, him especially, but it was all fun and games anyway.
At least they survived. They were all in for small favours.

They had to be.

He didn't know for how long it had been this way. Everything was blurred together. Not a day went by without fights, without hurts, cries and laughter through the whole ordeal.
He couldn't remember any more when it had begun; no less remember what it was like to be just normal. He doubted neither of them could.
Not him, not her, not anyone else who was the least bit involved. He couldn't for the life of people even try and imagine what 'normal' meant.
– And it had never been her kind of thing anyway. She was all for the uniqueness of the individual.

Now, look what it had brought.

He cradled her limp form to his body, fighting back the tears behind his eyes and the sobs strangling his chest. The red, sticky texture that was her shirt now, terrified him more than anything ever had but he couldn't let go.

"Please," he begged of her.

Somehow she heard him and looked up at him through fluttering eyelids. And that was so much worse because they screamed her pain at him and twisted the knife in his heart once more. Nevertheless she smiled a quivering smile and oh, so slowly raised a shaking hand to his cheek.
He grabbed it gently and held it in place, ignoring the sticky feeling of her fingers against his skin and the nauseating smell of metal.

Her lips formed words and he bend lower to try and catch her voice just one more time. "It's…" He could sense her fighting and held his breath not to let anything interrupt. "It's alright."

It was no more than a mere whisper, not even a whisper, a voiced thought, and he felt her giving in and disappearing with that thought, felt her body losing completely, her jagged breath halting.
He carefully placed her hand on her breast and closed her eyes once more so she merely looked asleep. If it hadn't been for all the blood it could have fooled him.

He sat there staring at her empty form, feeling lost and cold and stunned.

Above him was the distanced sound of fighting still. Or maybe it was really close but he just couldn't tell.

Feet made a rattling sound in the scattered debris of the pavement around him and the face of their friend made it into his vision, all solemn and tearful and battered.

The friend crouched down in front of him, surveying her injuries in kind detachment.
At last he opened his mouth, his voice grave and full of sadness. "It's all fun and games…"

But he didn't let him finish. He locked gazes with his friend's dark green-brown eyes and felt the surge of rage burn from his own.

His voice sounded hoarse and broken as it spit out promises of revenge.

"It's not fun and games any more."


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