Home for a Ghost

It's a Lonely Home

A/N: "Home for a Ghost" is a Phantom Falls (Danny Phantom and Gravity Falls) crossover. I've had this idea brewing for a while and I finally broke down and decided to write it. I hope you all enjoy it, this is my first crossover so let's see how it goes!

~*~*~*~*

It's dark.

God, it's so dark. Endless and suffocating in its massive size. A bleak existence that goes on and on and on.

It's like an ocean. A deep, dark sea. It's cold and black and the pressure is insurmountable, crushing me under its tons of lifeless weight.

I'm alone, so incredibly alone, no one's here, no one knows I'm suffering, no one is left to care.

Please, please make it stop.

~*~*~*~*

With a gasp, he bolts upright in his bed, sheets twisted around him like grasping tentacles dragging him into the depths. He kicks them away from his sweaty body, feeling a rush of freezing cold air hit his exposed flesh. Teeth chattering, he tries to calm his pounding heart, hugging his legs close to his torso to retain warmth and comfort himself.

After a few suffering minutes, he stumbles up and to the attached bathroom. He splashes water on his face and blinks wide eyes at his reflection. Acidic green stares back, faintly glowing against his inhumanly pale skin that's rippling with goosebumps. It fades to an icy blue and he shivers.

It's getting worse, no denying that any longer.

Danny rubs a shaky hand over his face, trying to chase away the nightmare he's just woken up from. Nightmares are a normal occurrence for him, but...this one was different. It felt...real.

Ignoring this realization for the time being, he gets dressed and goes downstairs to make breakfast. His hand trails along the frail stair rail, wood creaking beneath his feet as he softly steps down. Light filters in through slits between slabs of wood, thousands of dust motes dancing in the golden glow.

He pads into the kitchen, opening a squeaky cabinet door to retrieve the only food within it—a box of cereal—and reaching into the sink to grab the only clean bowl and spoon. He pours himself a bowl of cereal, no milk because the fridge isn't working (and hasn't for a while). Sitting down to eat with a sigh, he takes in the dilapidated building around him. He knows it isn't safe for him to still be living inside the old abandoned Fentonworks, but he didn't have the heart to leave it.

Danny looks sadly at the empty seats around the table, ones that used to be filled by his family members. It's been almost fifteen years, but god does he miss them. Mom, Dad, Jazz, Valerie, Tucker...Sam...they're all gone now. Have been for such a long time that somehow only feels like a few seconds.

Immortality sort of does that to you, he guesses.

The empty bowl and used spoon go back in the sink. The cereal box has been emptied too, that he'll take with him to throw out when he leaves.

Just before he exits the kitchen, an inner voice compels him to turn and face the lab entrance. It beckons to him, a yawning maw that seems to whisper his name. For some reason, the voices sound like his friends and family, so he follows them blindly.

His eyes adjust to the darkness as he climbs down the metal steps, shoes clanking loudly against them. He hits the basement floor and it echoes around the room, empty like a ghost town. Ironic, isn't it?