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Epidemic

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"Now does anybody want to share what their thoughts were on the fog scene in last nights reading?" Mr. Lancer asked, looking around his class and idly waving his heavily used and annotated Huckleberry Finn. He received a few blank stares, but most people were looking down at pages of notes of their desk. Lancer was too realistic to hope for a second they were English notes.

He sighed, and then slapped his book down on his desk, sending a resounding whap! through the room. He goal of startling his students to attention failed. Only a handful bothered to look up before starting to flip through their notes again.

He tried another technique, and resolved not to talk until maybe one of the students realized it was unnaturally quite. He crossed his arms and leaned against his desk casually, glaring lazily out at his students. A minute passed. Finally one student looked up, blinking. He looked remarkably as if he had been awoken from a deep sleep. Then another looked up. They both looked dazed.

Finally Mr. Lancer exclaimed, "did anybody bother to do the reading?!" A few more heads glanced up, as if the sudden sound after the ringing silence startled them. He decided to pick on a few. "Mr. Baxter? Miss Hollingsworth? Mr. Foley?" Their necks all craned up from the notebooks in front of them, and then sheepishly shook their heads.

Lancer sighed through grinding teeth, and looked around his classroom. He remarkably had more attention now that he had broke away from his normal class plan. "Did anybody do the reading?"

Nobody moved, so he assumed the worst. He realized it was pointless to teach a passage if nobody had bothered to read it. "What subject is the test in Mr. Lee?" He asked.

A boy named Jeremiah jumped, being caught red handed, but nevertheless answered. "US History."

"Ah." Mr. Lancer nodded knowingly. He had a suspicion. "Is this THE US History test?"

Jeremiah nodded, and glanced awkwardly between his notes and Mr. Lancer, torn at where to look since Lancer called him out. Mr. Lancer walked slowly around his desk, and sat back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. He saw several students looking at him curiously. "Go back to your studying. I understand that if you fail this test, you have to retake the course?"

At being reminded of this, his class went back to their notes, and he received some of the most grateful looks from his students that he would receive all year. He knew how it worked by this point.

In all of his years of teaching, he had finally realized when to give up… and though rare, this was one of those days. Though annoyed, there was nothing he could do to make his students pay attention, even if he took all of their notes and threw them in the trash. He swiveled his desk chair around, and mentally prepared himself to let his students study for a different class for the last half of the period.

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By the time the bell rang to let out English, Sam had very nearly given up hope on ever passing the US History class. She looked over at her two best friends. They looked like they were about to pull their hair out, and were still pouring over pages of writing. Tucker's eyes were bloodshot while Danny was mumbling quietly to himself.

She was able to decipher words when he raised his voice in to a panicky question. "Shoot… shoot! I don't have any notes on the Johnson administration! Who was he? What did he do?"

"War on poverty," Tucker mumbled back, waving his hand to shut him up. "Foreign policy made him fail domestic… policy…" Tucker trailed off, reading a different part of his notes.

"What was his foreign policy?!" Danny asked hoarsely, finally looking up at his notes and sending a wide-eyed look at Sam.

"He was the one that started sending in troops to Vietnam. We need to go," she reminded, standing up and sliding her notes into her book bag.

Tucker moaned something unintelligible. Seeing that soon they would be the only ones left in Lancer's room, Sam took the initiative. With Danny being closest, she closed his notes and tucked his books under her arm. Grabbing him by his ear, she dragged him out of his seat.

"Ow!" He cried, subconsciously grabbing his backpack and dragging it behind him.

"Wait…" Tucker muttered monotonously, picking up his notes and bag to follow behind the pair, his nose still buried deep in his binder.

Lancer, reading his book, only looked up briefly, and going back to his book, said, "It's good of you to keep those two in check."

Sam laughed humorlessly. "I don't know what they would do without me," she said deadpan, passing her teachers desk. She went out the front door, with Danny trying to pry Sam's grip off his ear as he reached for his notes. Tucker followed behind, gently bumping into the wall next to the door before finding his way out, meanwhile never lifting his eyes from his notes. Mr. Lancer only raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Strange, strange children."

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Out in the hall, Sam let go of Danny's ear for his dignity, but still kept his notes out of reach.

"Sam!" He cried out in frustration, trying to reach around her for his notes. "Can you please let me cram for like two more seconds? I really need to pass this class!"

Sam rolled her eyes, but threw his binder back at him. "I doubt that any information you learn in the next minute will be the difference between a passing and a failing grade. I've personally given it up to fate, now."

Danny muttered, while flipping through his notes, "Well that's your preference… not mine. Fate's been known to be against me whenever possible." Tucker snorted from somewhere behind them.

Sam looked over Danny. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was more messed up than usual. He looked like he was about to crack from the stress, and she also noticed for the first time he was walking with a slight limp.

"Ghost last night?" She asked sympathetically.

Danny replied without looking up from his notes, finally having found his page. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

"You have a limp," Sam stated bluntly. Danny glanced up at her for a moment at that, but then looked back down.

"He caught me off guard. I'll be fine."

Sam continued to look at Danny, but he refused to meet her gaze. Sighing, she looked down the hall towards the history classroom. That's when it happened.

"Oh my God," a girl exclaimed behind them. "Oh my God!"

"Somebody get the nurse!" Another voice called. "Call 911!"

That caught everybody's attention. As one, everybody within ear shot turned towards the commotion, including Sam, Danny, and Tucker. Looking between the figures, Sam could just see two people she didn't know kneeling over somebody laying on the ground, convulsing.

"Danny!" Sam exclaimed turning to him wide eyed, as the crowd pressed in on the disturbance.

With his binder still open in his hands, he looked away from the boy and looked back at her. "What?"

"You have to help him!" She cried.

"What?!" He exclaimed, looking at her like she was insane. Sam saw as Danny looked between her and towards the panic and back again. "I can deal with ghosts… but with this?" He shook his head.

Sam opened her mouth disbelievingly. "You mean you're going to just sit there?!"

She watched as Danny's face took on a defensive edge. "Well, what am I supposed to do, Sam? I can fight ghosts, but I'm no doctor."

Sam opened her mouth to reply, but the bell cut her off. Danny jumped at the noise. "We're late!" He exclaimed, snapping his forgotten notes closed. He grabbed Sam and Tucker. "There's nothing we can do. It's best if we just got out of the way," Danny advised, his eyes already set on the history classroom only a few doors down.

Sam couldn't believe Danny was so ready to just let what was happening in front of them go. "But there are ways you can help!" She said, getting irritated. "He needs to go to the hospital! You can get him there the fastest!" She said, silently accusing him.

Danny sent her a look over his shoulder, "but then we'd be even more late for the test! I need to pass this class, Sam!"

She could have slapped him. Sam wrenched her arm out of his grasp just before they got to the room. "Danny!" She called one last time. He just looked back at her, eyebrows furrowed, and continued to walk into the classroom with out her.

Sam just stood there fuming. After the three years Danny had been fighting to keep the public safe, she was amazed at how uncompassionate he could still be. She looked back. There were less people gathered around the boy now, and she saw the plump little school nurse rushing down the hallway.

The boy had fallen deathly still. He looked like he was just a freshman. There was a girl kneeling over him crying. When the nurse got close enough, the girl said, "I don't know what happened! I knew he was feeling sick… but then all of the sudden he just…" she started sobbing as the nurse pushed her away. The nurse felt for a pulse, and Sam watched closely. The nurse nodded, and told the girl to meet her in her office. Then she whipped out a cell phone.

As frustrated as Sam was with Danny, she hated him even more because she couldn't help. If he didn't want to help, then there wasn't much she could do either. She exhaled sharply, and turned back to the history classroom. She swore to herself that as soon as the test was over, she would walk over to Danny and give him a good beating.

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To Be Continued…

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A/N: I shouldn't be writing this. I have to apply to college. But sometimes I can't help myself.

I'm not quite finished with it yet… maybe a little less than half way through. I'm hoping this story won't be too terribly long, just kinda longish medium.

Review if you want me to continue! Warning: it keeps getting darker from here on out!