I bet you were all expecting the continuation of Ticking, huh? Don't worry, that's coming soon. It won't be very long, but it will be there. Anyway, this is an idea I came up with ages ago, I just never fleshed out. Since I'm finished with Twilight Walking (I just have to post all the chapters now), I started working on this for fun. It's interesting to write. Anyway, this isn't going to be very long, either - TW is the longest story you can expect from me for awhile. (It's upwards about 20 chapters right now.)

Danny disappeared about a month earlier - but they have no leads as to where he might be. Turns out he's living with Vlad, but a) has no memory of being a Fenton, and b) seems to be acting very strangely - even for him. And, if Danny's living with Vlad, who's the mysterious specter visiting Sam in her dreams? Interesting indeed. DxS, angst, whoo.

Chapter One
Beginnings

There are many things that people will do for love. There are hundreds, thousands of desperate roads people will follow to find what willtruly make them happy. Sometimes people are driven to the point of destruction trying to find something they truly desire.

However, there are some things that can never be done. There are a lot of mysterious anomalies in our world, and many more things that we can't explain how or why they happened. They just did.

But the one thing that human kind will never, ever be able to do, is bring the dead back to life.

No matter how hard they try.

The rain was cold and chilling. It poured silver from the sky, only being seen in the dimming streetlights around them. The street was silver and white from puddles forming in the cracks and crevices in the pavement.

Around them, flecks of fluorescent green littered the ground, dripping profusely from the ghost that he was fighting. The boy's dazzling white hair flashed and his iridescent eyes narrowed as he continued to shoot powerful beams from his palms, causing more ectoplasmic residue to leak from his foe.

She stood there in the rain, shivering, her hair sticking to her cheeks. Her other friend was running, his lips moving and his eyes wide, but no sound came from his lips. She stared at him quizzically, wondering why nothing was coming from his mouth. He was clearly speaking, but there was no audio to be heard.

She realized that her other friend was speaking as well. Yelling, it appeared to be. And she realized that she couldn't hear the rain as it hit the pavement, or the ghost as he was beaten, or the thunder as lightening flashed overhead.

She took a step forward, the satisfying squelch of water in her shoes not being heard. She used her pale hands to move the hair from her cheeks behind her ears, walking forwards more quickly.

Her other friends had already beaten the ghost, and he was already sucked up into the Thermos, safe and unable to do more harm. She smiled as her other rain-soaked friends stood and laughed without audio, beckoning to her.

"I'm coming!" she called, running over faster. She grinned widely, her heart pounding, her hands clenched into fists as she ran. It was just another day, just another ghost fight, just another part of their lives.

As she ran, she noticed the world behind her ghost-friend darkening. A shadow was lurking behind him. Her other friend had already made his way over to her, not noticing the shadow at all.

The shadow reminded her of vampires from the old movies. It was very pointed, and she could swear she could make out a pair of blood shot eyes and dripping fangs hovering above his head.

"Danny!" she cried, stopping where she was running. He paid no attention, talking without saying a word. The shadow advanced, placing its hands on Danny's shoulders and sliding them down his arms. A chill ran down her spine, her breath caught in her throat.

"DANNY!" she cried out, reaching for him, but he seemed to be getting farther and farther away. Her breath came out in gasps and tears clouded her eyes, but she continued to run, faster and faster. The faster she ran, the farther he went from her.

"DANNY! DANNY! D-DANNY!" she cried over and over, the road before her turning to silver water.

"Danny!" she squeaked out, before being pulled down into freezing, silvery water, down, down, down, so far she couldn't see or breathe, her hands clutching her neck, trying to get any air she could, her tears swirling around her head…

"DANNY!"

Sam Manson shot up, head pounding, her breath coming in gasps. She hadn't realized it, but she was wheezing and gasping, desperately trying to get as much air as she could. She clutched her throat, her breaths coming more slowly now as she realized she was safe.

She was in her bed, and it was 1:09 in the morning. It wasn't raining; as a matter of fact, warm air came in through her bedroom window and caressed her chilled body. Her door was closed, one window cracked to let air in. There was no rain, no darkness, there was sound, and, most importantly, no lurking figure.

But… there was still no Danny.

Frustrated, Sam hopped out of her bed and ambled slowly over to her computer, her head still pounding. She sat down and booted it up, impatiently tapping her fingers on the computer table.

When the computer finally beeped to life, she opened a saved link, one she checked almost daily now. She watched the screen open, her heart pounding, wondering, hoping, that maybe there was some change—

She sighed in sadness and contentment. No news so far. The news article was still the same. The headline still read 'Local teen disappearance baffles police', the date was still from the last update, a week and a half ago.

Sam sighed again. Still no news on Danny. She re-read the familiar article, not really taking in any of the words on the page. It was the same old story, the same old news. Danny Fenton, fifteen, still missing. The last time he was seen was by his sister out the window of their ridiculous house. No signs of abduction or a run away – and yet, he was still gone.

The part that hurt her the most, however, was the middle paragraph. It was short and just kind of stuck there in the middle – but every time her eyes grazed over it, she winced as if someone did something to her.

As of Sunday, at 7 pm, the search for Fenton officially became a recovery, as due to the California State Missing Persons Law.

It was one sentence, it wasn't even a paragraph. And yet, she still felt as if this meant that everyone could just give up on him. As if it was okay to think of him as just another missing child, another statistic, another body to stack up and put away.

Sam turned the computer off and hopped back onto her bed, lying down gently on her pillow. She cleared her head, trying not to think about Danny. For once.

As she lay there, as she began to slowly lose consciousness again and fall back asleep, she turned onto her side on the edge of her bed, breathing softly, and opened her eyes slowly. She stared at the emptiness of the pillow next to her. On nights like this, she could remember him the easiest.

She remembered that night. She had lain close to him, his head on her pillow next to hers, his dark hair falling over his eyes. She had curled next to him, lacing her fingers into his and nudging her face into his dark hair, breathing in his scent.

She smiled in contentment as she remembered. He had turned over, touched her gently, and wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. It was warm that night, too. It had been just a month ago. It was in the early morning hours, just after midnight, when she had felt tired. Skin on skin, bare fingers touching bare shoulders, she had fallen asleep, but only after making sure she was safely in his arms, lying against his bare chest, her fingers tangled with his.

Just a few days later, he disappeared.

She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The last time she saw him had been a ghost fight like the one she dreamed about. She had that dream often.

But the last time she saw him, really saw him, experienced him, listened to him, been intimate with him, loved him, spent precious time with him… had been that night.

He hadn't been seen since.

"Y'know… I had another dream about him," Sam said as she sat down beside her friend. Tucker Foley glanced up at her from his math homework, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh? And?" he asked. She shrugged.

"It was like… like the last ghost we fought before he disappeared," she admitted. "Only this time, there was this big… shadow behind Danny. And it started… doing weird things to him. Like, caressing him almost, but Danny didn't notice at all. And then I started drowning in a silvery pool-thing… I dunno." Throughout the entire telling, Tucker nodded as if taking mental notes.

"So… a big shadow. Think it means something?"

"I dunno, maybe," Sam said softly, fiddling with the silver ring on her left ring finger. It was too big for her now; she had lost weight since Danny gave it to her a little over a month ago, and now she spun it freely.

"Maybe it's some sort of cosmic clue," Tucker said, tapping it into his PDA. Sam glanced at him, confused.

"What're you doing? Taking notes?" she asked, leaning over. Tucker chuckled.

"Kind of. Y'know, anything suspicious that we could possibly use to figure out what happened." He pocked the device and continued on his homework. "Sam, can you solve this? I can't seem to get—Sam?" he asked, realizing she wasn't listening to him. She was leaning with her head in her hands, tapping her fingers against her face gently. Tucker sighed.

"Sam, you can't possibly think about this all the time," he said, scooting closer to her to talk to her in a lower voice. "I mean, there is the possibility that… that he's—"

"Don't say it," Sam said curtly, turning to him. "He is not dead. I can tell." A shrill ringing was heard above them as the bell rang, cutting their conversation short.

"Time for class," Sam said, standing up immediately. She dashed into the school building, wedging her way between mingling students, trying to stop the tears in the corners of her eyes.

Tucker just watched her run. She always became so emotional whenever the possibility of Danny's death arose. When the search for him became an official recovery, she had been so angry and frustrated she hadn't spoken to him in days. It wasn't like Tucker had decided that it was a recovery, but… with him gone for two weeks with next to no leads, what more could they hope for…

But a body?

Tucker shivered, even though the weather was warm and crisp that day. Just the thought of Danny coming home in a body bag was chilling enough. It was something he didn't want to think about.

But what more could he do?

I don't own Danny Phantom.