started this as part of something else but i hit the tone completely wrong so i’m just posting this as a drabble instead ;w;
just a kinda slow ficlet wherein danny reminisces about the fateful day on which he died while also exploring his feelings and attachment to both life and death
mild angst ??? implied and mentioned anxiety and ptsd
word count: 906, not beta’d
Phantom was floating idly, a few inches above the Amity Clock Tower.
He stared wistfully with a glassy look at his ungloved hand as he softly traced over his Lichtenberg scar that spread out lightly all the way towards the top of his left arm. A melancholy smile painted his face as he closed his eyes, letting a single tear get blown away by the rather chilly end-of-summer night wind.
It has been two years already. He thought while the scenes from his accident flashed before his eyes and started to cloud his mind. He felt his left hand go slightly limp and felt a distinct pain he had only felt that one time. He wondered if he was ever going to be able to think back, without the accompanying phantom pain.
He sighed and got up from his sitting-while-floating-in-mid-air position and shot away over town, back home. Once he arrived, he carefully phased through the wall of his room and laid down in bed. He only let his transformation rings wash over him once he was fully covered beneath the blanket, sure as hell not wanting to wake anyone at night.
That’s two things he’s definitely gotten better with over time. Controlling his powers and not getting spotted by anyone, not even his own family or their ghost defense mechanisms.
Danny woke up early despite his late night earlier. He jumped up hastily and put on some clothes he tossed onto his chair yesterday night for an easy grabs now. It was a simple but good habit he’d picked up – thanks Jazz. He checked his phone – 6:00AM – well before the latest he’d be allowed to wake up at. He stowed his phone into a jean pocket and poked his head through his bedroom door. His parents were still asleep it seemed, and Jazz – well Jazz was now a Freshman in college. She was off in another city already.
He sighed inaudibly and phased through his bedroom floor straight down into the kitchen, not wanting to wake his parents up yet. He really preferred to get out before either of them woke up nowadays. That’s one thing he’s become worse at over the years. His anxiety and PTSD had gotten the better of him and he’d started to avoid his parents and their house in general more. He definitely wanted to work on that, this year.
He quickly poured some cereal and downed it all just as fast. The halfa got up and put his bowl into the sink before grabbing his bag and stepped out of the front door. He could hear one of his parents open their bedroom door at the same time.
He took a look around before walking to a darker than usual alleyway nearby their house. He glanced around for any bystanders and when he knew the coast was clear, he once again let himself become Phantom.
It was interesting, you know? Getting killed and then brought to live by your own accord, time and time again. Initially, it was insanely painful whenever he transformed. It really felt just like dying again, as if every fiber of his body was set on fire once more. Eventually, the pain became more subtle, now, he barely felt it. Danny didn’t know whether the pain really became less over time or if he just got too used to dying all over, which was not a question he liked to ponder over much so he just let that mystery be. It was only one of the many in his life.
Now, being a ghost was also rather interesting. It was like being attached to life with one very thin, near invisible thread. He was hanging on to humanity by a thread, dangling over a pit of darkness he had yet to explore in full. Too afraid to go down too deep, in fear of snapping the string keeping him connected to life.
As Danny flew higher, starting his morning patrol over Amity Park, Danny started wondering. Is that how other ghosts experienced their existence too? Or was he the only one?
Of course, other ghosts were one hundred percent dead, Danny was as aware of that as anyone else. But he also knew that many ghosts exist because they still felt a certain attachment to their previous life that let them linger with sentience just a bit longer, not yet completely moving on to nothingness, where nothing awaited them anymore.
Danny hummed as he floated above the city, watching the skyline. He always got a little more sentimental around the time of his death anniversary, he’d noticed in the relatively little time that had passed since then.
He shook his head which managed to get him out of his trance. He checked his phone once more – 7:10AM – huh, apparently he loses track of time more easily around this time too.
He did a near nose dive into the direction of Casper High, landing safely in his safe alley opposite of it. He duck behind the dumpster and became Fenton again. Not exactly the fanciest place to transform, but it always got the job done so who’s he to complain?
He stepped forward towards the gate and glanced up at it. Taking a deep breath preparing himself for the new year to come, another year after his accident. A small, genuine, grin spread across his face. ‘Tis gonna be an interesting one yet again, no doubt.