Author's Note:

Well, I was reading through some of my old fanfictions and I found this story. I had started writing the chapter but never finished it. Seeing as I'm getting tired of writing fanfictions for Dragonball Z, I thought I might continue it.

Summary: Danny reveals his secret to his parents and is met with their ultimate betrayal. With no one else to turn to, he looks to Vlad for help. I have rated this story "T" for violence and possible language.

Please read this first chapter and let me know what you think. I always appreciate reviews because they let me know what I'm doing right/wrong, which I can take and apply to future chapters in order to improve the story. I also like to know if people are interested in reading further, so if you would like me to continue, please let me know. I often don't continue fanfictions if I don't get feedback because it leaves me with the impression that no one is interested in reading further, so please let me know.

Thank you, and enjoy ~VC


Danny Fenton had never thought himself to be lucky. In fact, he thought himself to be just the opposite. He was one of the nerds at school, the person who got shoved into the dumpster when one of the jocks needed to boost their self-esteem. None of the girls would even spare him a passing glance, especially not Paulina. Almost every test he brought home was stamped with a big red "F", and almost every week his parents lectured him about the importance of staying in school when they received another call saying he skipped first period. And then there were the ghosts.

Being a halfa was not the easy task. He found that ghosts were almost constantly attacking his home, reigning terror over Amity Park. And he was, in all reality, the only person who could stop them. His parents, though they meant well, had only ever humiliated him and made things worse at the same time. None of the other ghost hunters who claimed to be so good at their job provided any assistance whatsoever, and many times they would try to take him down as well. So it was pretty much up to him.

He would fight those ghosts, one by one, sending them back into the Ghost Zone with his sparkling thermos. And he would come back from each fight broken, battered, and exhausted. Often, he would return to his parent's ghost hunting fortress covered in blood and scratches and bruises. And just when he would think he could lie down and go to sleep and recuperate, another ghost would fly past his window in an almost comical fashion, laughing the maniacal laugh that had cemented itself into his mind. There was no mistaking a ghost's laugh; he knew it too well.

He got little sleep because of all of this, which in turn would lead to him sleeping during the time he was supposed to be studying for the test, thus leading him to fail it. When ghosts would invade the town during school hours, he would have to skip classes just so he could fight them, which would lead to the phone calls from the school and the lectures from his parents. It was like a vicious circle: fight the ghosts, lose sleep, fail school, fight the ghosts, lose sleep, fail school.

Yes, Danny knew he was quite the unlucky teen. And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. It was far worse than he could ever have imagined, far worse than he could ever have dreamed. Being a loser, being stupid, as he liked to call himself, and being a halfa was nothing compared to what he would have to endure from now on: living without the acceptance of his family.

In Danny's mind, the moment his secret was revealed to his mother and father was the moment his life ended. It seemed that there was nothing salvageable left, only broken shards of the past which could never be again pieced together. This was worse, but Danny was convinced it could not worsen further. He was unsure if he should assume this, afraid that his life might find a way to become worse, but he knew that the events of the night his secret identity had been discovered justified the conviction. This was the night he had lost everything, swiftly, without warning. He believed it was safe to assume that this was the worst it could get because now, he had nothing left that could be destroyed, taken away, since it already had been, on this ill-fated night.

Allowing his parents to discover his identity as Danny Phantom had seemed a promising idea at first. He had gotten to a point that he could not take the pressure and fatigue that came with his ghost fighting, and wanted more than anything to just throw up his hands and sit back and let the town of Amity Park fall to the invasions of ghosts. But he knew that it was his duty to protect those around him and his conscience would kill him before he did if he allowed the town to be overrun by ghosts, and so he had begun to contemplate if there was a solution that would not only keep the town safe but him, too. He had thought that if his parents knew the truth, things might have gotten better for him. His parents would understand why he failed and skipped school, and would cut him slack. He could fight ghosts and protect his town without creating trouble for himself. His parents would worry about him when ghosts came, but he would take extra precaution when fighting, and if he did manage to get hurt, his mother would be there, waiting for him back home to bandage his wounds. His mental state would improve; he wouldn't have to lie to them, always feeding the ever-guilty conscience. And his parents might even be proud of him, for his selflessness and bravery. And so he had shown them, had "gone ghost" before their eyes. But he had never expected them to react the way they did.

His parents had been sitting together in the living room on the sofa, studying one of his father's new ghost hunting devices. Danny approached them tiredly, wincing as he moved his sore muscles. The last ghost he had combated had been more powerful than most he fought.

"Mom, Dad, can I talk to you guys? About something serious?" he'd asked, only a trace of hesitation lingering in his voice as he looked down at the new ghost weapon in his father's hands.

They looked up at him and smiled. "Of course you can, Danny," his mother said, her voice filled with encouragement.

Danny looked to his father, who nodded and said, "We're all ears, Danny, whatever you want to talk about."

Danny drew comfort from his father's undemanding tone and gained the confidence he needed to speak.

"I haven't been very honest lately. I've been hiding something from you, something I shouldn't be. It's such a huge part of who I am, and it's a huge part of my life. You guys deserve to know what's been going on all this time. I think it will explain a lot," Danny said seriously.

His parents stared at him, bemused, but nodded their heads.

"Alright, Danny," said his mother.

"Can you promise me something?" Danny said feebly.

His mother smiled understandingly and reached out and took his hands in hers. His father smiled supportively.

"Of course, Danny," his mother said softly.

"Promise me you won't hate me."

"Danny, we will never hate you, no matter what," his father said, and his mother nodded.

"No matter what?"

"No matter what," his mother repeated.

Danny stared at the loving faces of his mother and father and transformed into Danny Phantom.

He could not have imagined these expressions their faces held of affection and support could shift so quickly. They stared at him, their eyes wide, their faces twisted in horror. Then, he saw the anger behind their eyes. Pure, undiluted rage.

His father had activated the newest weapon he'd been working on and aimed it in Danny's direction. He had fired. His mother had pulled out her weapon and had done the same.

Now, Danny understood what it meant to tempt fate. To tempt fate meant to lose everything you cared about, everyone you loved. He might have assured himself once that his life could not get any worse, but it had. And now, after losing his mother and father's love, his home, his life, he wanted to believe that it could not get any worse, but feared it might, though he could not imagine how. He was tempted, however, to hold to this belief that fate was through robbing him, because now he lay in the snow that had settled into the ground of a wooded area, fading in and out of consciousness, his limbs twisted and broken, his body marred and bloody. He was sure there was no punishment worse than lying in the snow on the ground of a cold forest after being beaten to near death by one's own parents.

His father's weapon had been ironically well constructed, the aim precise, the blasts sharp and painful. Danny had changed back into Fenton in an attempt to prove to his parents that he was still their son and not an evil spirit, but it had not mattered. His father continued to fire even after beholding the knowledge that this ghost was part of his boy. Jack Fenton had gotten several decent shots at him before Danny had fled. By that point, he had borne enough wounds to his human body that he had broken bones in several different places, his arm almost severed at the shoulder, and had begun to bleed to death. He had staggered away from his home and run into the nearby woods where he collapsed.

Danny did not allow himself to believe it. The pain of it was too much to bear, and he would not force it upon himself. Not yet. Now, this thing that had happened was not real. Like a sick dream, he thought he would soon wake up and head downstairs from his room to the kitchen where his mother and father would be and would smile when they saw him and would hug him. He lay in the snow and instead focused on another half of reality, that of the other half fading in his mind. He held a certain reality instead. He knew, without question, that if he did not get help, he would die. He could not call Jazz or Tucker or Sam. He could not seek help in that town, could not take refuge where he would be hunted and despised. His friends and his sister could not protect him from his mother and father, but Danny had decided subconsciously that there was only one person who could.

Painfully, Danny reached into his pocket using the arm that was not severed and found his phone. He dialed the number slowly. The phone rang and he prayed mentally it would pick up. After the fourth ring, it did.

"Who is this?" came the impatient voice of Vlad Masters.

"Danny," he responded, gasping to form the word.

There was a pause. "Daniel?"

"Yes," Danny said hastily.

"Daniel, I don't know what this is about but-"

"Vlad, I told them and-"

"What?"

"They tried to kill me."

"They…" Then, Vlad's voice became frantic. "Daniel, are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm lying in a forest. I'm going to die."

"No. No, you're not going to die. I'm going to find you and…"

But Danny did not hear him. He lost consciousness and the phone fell from his hand, into the glistening frost on the forest floor.

"Danny!" Vlad cried. "Danny!"