(Edit March 2009: With the passing of time comes a change in writing style - hopefully an improvement. Dedicated to reviewers: Thanks again for reading, everybody!)

Disclaimer: I do not own. I am no Butch Hartman. Opening/ending lines from "I'm Not Okay" by My Chemical Romance. References* taken from Samuel Daniel's Sonnet IX: If This Be Love.

Lifeboats

What will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems?

She hears
his whisper's descent gently onto the wind.

She sees
his smile tainted with the rain by day and grimly shadowed by night.

She writes
a prayer to absolve the tormented, the damned, and the sinned.

She remembers
a letter for a life and a life lost, salvation and empty promises, withering into the pyre.

She knows
tonight is her last grasp at redemption.

She loves
in order to live, and lives to love even after death.

She'll let this sorrow prick her heart
until she can ache no more and draw her weary breath.*

;;;

I honestly don't think today is my day to shine. It's not always about waking up on the 'wrong side of bed', you know.

Tapping my pencil, I pick my head up off the graffiti-ridden desk to glance at the clock. It's only ten - had it really only been two minutes since I last looked? - and the sunlight streaming in through the blinds is currently a little too bright for my liking.

I'm fully aware of the stack of exam papers being passed towards my direction now, but I make no move to take it.

"Uh, hey, the test...?"

Precisely twelve hours ago, Danny and I had another fight. We seem to go off on a schedule nowadays, but last night nailed it to the wall. And it isn't even my fault.

"Are you even listening, goth chick?"

At least, that's what I want to believe.

"Whatever, man."

Here's the story: It's been two years since he's acquired his ghost powers, and all of that came with a price. It led him away from his social life (I guess, not that he really has any) and other school stuff he's supposed to be involved in. I understand that it's tough on him. It's not exactly child's play to be dealing with troubles such as warding off evil supernatural beings when he has other important matters to tend to. So, I told him to lay off the superhero deal and leave it to those who were fit for the job. That's when he snapped.

;;;

"Danny, please listen to me. I'm only saying this because I care about you." Pause. Taking his taciturnity as a sign that it was alright to continue, she spoke once more.

"Tell me, what's the use in trying to save this dumb, forsaken city from ghosts when not a single person can appreciate you for it? Really, you should leave the ghost-butt-kicking to the people who live to seek that kind of thrill, the people who go to bed every night knowing that stomping another ghost down will make their next day. When I say that, I'm talking about your parents."

An anxious sigh was heard coming from the other end of the line.

"Yeah, well, what if they can't handle it? What if they end up hurt more than I have been and ever will be? I know my parents aren't your average citizens and can be downright aggravating at times, but the last thing I'd want is for them to be injured no thanks to my selfish behavior." She could sense his rising frustration over the phone.

"Just what are you rambling on about? So it's perfectly fine if you alone are pulverized every day, and two experts aren't? And you actually think that said experts would get beaten up as much as you do, with all the gear they're equipped with? Get real. You're just some sixteen-year old high school kid, who's been doing this for not enough time!"

"I don't want to hear that coming from you of all people, Sam. I really, really don't. When it comes down to it, if you had never suggested me to go into the goddamn portal back then...!" She inhaled sharply at his unfinished statement. Memories of the fateful day came flooding back, overwhelming her with a truth she suddenly found difficult to handle.

Strike one.

From his room, Danny realized the impact of his words on her composure. Although his inner voice of reason attempted to mentally restrain him, he grew further incensed by his reality and felt his free hand clenching into a tight fist. He cruelly plowed on, undeterred by the likes of sympathy.

"Think about it. If you really hadn't made me walk in there, I wouldn't have these powers now, would I? Are you sure you're even worried? It looks to me as if you don't want your solid effort and triumph at creating the ultimate weapon to go to waste, as accidental as it may be. When you decided on your own that once wasn't enough, you went ahead and did it again when Desiree returned. I sure as hell wouldn't have to be stressed all the time, juggling two identities in one day and one body. It won't be of much difference to me, whether you stuck around or not any longer, Sam. Because frankly, if you truly care, you'd simply back off or let me keep at what I've been doing while being my support. Or are you trying to insinuate to me now that you don't even want to bother with giving me a hand anymore? Even then it would be nothing more than medicine for a permanent wound you yourself have inflicted upon me."

He felt regret stirring dully within him. He knew it was wrong of him to corner her so viciously this way, but he had no control. The pent-up thoughts running through the very recesses of his mind had finally purged their way out, and probably pierced his best friend like arrows to the chest.

She didn't have to tell him she was crying for him to know. Tears rolled slowly down her face into the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she quickly wiped them off, retaliating with a trembling voice.

"I can't even...I don't even know where to start, Danny." He could almost hear her smiling dryly in disbelief, shaking her head as though this were a wild dream. They both knew it wasn't.

"So, you've sunken so low as to doubt my worry for you? You're absolutely right, you're suffering now because of me. But I thought you were aware that I was always on your side no matter what you chose to do, especially because I knew that was the best way I could make up for what I've done. They say time heals and that time helps forget, but I guess I'm an exception to that rule. My mistakes do make sure to come back and give me hell every waking moment of my life, don't they? Every time a ghost shows up, every time you take a hit, every time you're out of sight for more than five minutes..." There was a cumbersome silence, broken only by the girl as she choked down a sob and abruptly feigned a derisive chuckle.

"I only said what I said because...because I don't want to wake up one morning to find myself going to school alone and just having to make it through without a Danny Fenton. But that's also part of being a selfish bitch too, right?" Another pause that felt an eternity and then some. Despite his conscience repeatedly hammering at him to apologize and tell her he was fighting for her, no words came.

"Yeah. You win. I sincerely hope you're fucking happy."

Strike two.

With that, Danny was greeted by a monotonous dial tone.

;;;

I groan inwardly and clamp my hands to my ears to wrest the wicked thoughts out of my head. My eyes slowly open to question number one on my paper: Which scientists showed that DNA is the carrier of genetic information?

DNA, DNA, DNA... That's right. Danny is a half-human half-ghost hybrid, and thus possesses the appropriate mutated DNA to reflect that state.

This is doing nothing to help me. I shuffle through the packet absentmindedly, not at all paying attention to its contents. My mind is elsewhere, gravitating towards a certain stupid someone.

Was it a crime to let him know how I felt? Perhaps I should have played dumb, not said a single word, including voicing my concern. Apparently it hurts him more than it does any good. But that doesn't sound right either. What kind of friend would I become then? I'm supposed to lead him back on his path should he ever go astray, give him my honest opinion even if it serves as salt to the cut. No one else can share a bond like the one we have. In the end, Danny's my best friend, lover, stranger, everything that matters and none at the same time. I want to believe he needs me as much as I need him, but I'm not so sure anymore.

I turned around and glanced at Danny just in time to see his ghost sense go off. His eyes widened as he raised his hand to "be excused". He ran out of the room, and left me alone to my thoughts again. I couldn't forget the things he said to me.

Well then, you should've never told me to go into the fucking portal two years ago...

I never knew what it could've done to you.

If I didn't, I didn't have these ghost powers... and no one would ever have to worry about me getting hurt all the time...

Even if you didn't have ghost powers, I'd worry about you all the same.

If you were truly concerned, you'd just leave me alone... leave me alone...

Friends don't ignore each other when they're in trouble.

...and even if my parents knew about my ghost powers, they wouldn't care...

...They'd care about you as much as I do.

Suddenly, I heard a loud crashing noise, followed by what sounded like a gunshot. Everyone else must've heard it too, because the class was suddenly deadly quiet. Sensing that something was very wrong, I stood up and ran out, ignoring Lancer yelling my name, obviously furious. But I didn't care. Danny didn't carry around weapons with him—he wouldn't need them, much thanks to his powers. That had to mean he got hurt, big time. I didn't even know where I was running to; all I knew was that I had to find Danny, fast. A couple of minutes later, I realised my legs had taken me to an empty room in the school's basement. I pulled the door open, and all I could do was gasp in horror.

There he was, his hand on his side, trying to stop the bleeding. It actually looked like green goo, but it had to be blood, right? He seemed to be oblivious of the fact that I was standing there, until the door slammed shut. Then something flew towards him. I tried to call out, in desperation to get that thing away from him. Suddenly, that "thing" lunged at me instead, and I saw that it was none other than Danny's archenemy, Vlad Plasmius. He clearly didn't want any witnesses around. He blasted a red beam out of his hand and I crashed against the wall. I fell to down to my knees and looked up. Plasmius was about to do it again when Danny flew in front of my face, grabbed my arm, and made us both go intangible. He dropped me behind a wooden crate, and gave me what looked like a microscopic smile. But before he could turn around, Plasmius made seven duplicates of himself and blasted at Danny. I covered my ears; I couldn't bear hearing him screaming out in pain.

Plasmius took a small ray gun out of his cape pocket and pointed it at Danny, who struggled to pick himself effortlessly off the ground. No...

"You know, Daniel, you should've listened to me when I told you to be my apprentice. You refused, and look where it has gotten you now. When I'm finished with you, I will move on to kill your idiot father—and your little friend there, who you seem to care a lot about. You know what, I should make you live so that you are forced to deal with the pain of living in a life of hell without the people you love and care about."

"My life is a fucking hell already, since you're in it." said Danny, seething.

"Well then, since it's bad enough already, what difference would it make to make it more worse?" Plasmius responded, with a malevolent smile. He threw the gun aside, and he made several duplicates of himself once more; his hands glowed a pale red—and it was pointed at me. Danny summoned all his strength to get up and hissed, "Leave her alone." He'd become very weak. He bent over, and unexpectedly suddenly morphed back into Danny Fenton. He looked shocked himself; what was he going to do without his powers? I had to do something, but what? The only thing I was sure of now was that I'd never forgive myself if something bad happened to Danny.

Plasmius and his duplicates were laughing now. "Hilarious; a ghost boy who can't even control his own powers!" He took this chance to blast his energy beams at me. I was frozen to the spot, so I shut my eyes and braced myself for the impact. But it never came. The only thing I could feel was Danny knocking me out of the way, and then my world went black.

It must've been a few hours before I opened my eyes and sat up, only to find myself in the dark. I squinted and saw a bloody and limp figure lying a few feet away from me.

Danny.

Panicking, I scrambled over to his seemingly-lifeless figure, and tried to shake him awake. God, please don't take him away from me... there are so many things I never told him... things I was afraid to tell him.

I felt like crying when he finally opened his eyes after what seemed like an eternity. "Sam, you're an idiot—" he coughed into his hand, and there were splatters of blood. "—you could've really gotten hurt. What were you thinking?" I just gaped at him. Here he was, bloody and hurt and he was worrying about me? And I sat there stupidly, watching him wipe the blood off his mouth.

I realised it was as if everything that happened now was my fault. No, it really was my fault. If only I hadn't been dumb enough to make Danny go into the portal, then this wouldn't have happened. Everything was a big mess, and it was all because of me. I had to say something. "Danny?"

He just looked at me with a gaunt face. He suddenly looked so different, so weak. "You didn't have to protect and idiot like me." Silence. "You were right. All this is...is all...all my fault." More silence. The silence was so uncomfortable, and I couldn't take it. "I'm sorry. I'm just really sorry. I just wanted to help. That's what friends do, don't they? And I...I shouldn't have made you go in the portal..." I could feel hot tears streaming down my face. "What happened to Plasmius?" I whispered. Danny looked away.

As if on cue, he crawled out from behind the crate, also looking pretty beat up. "And I'm glad you remembered." Holy shit, I thought. I'd half-expected him to be gone. I looked at Danny, feeling scared for him. He was in no shape to fight, and Plasmius's blood-red eyes were filled with more hatred than it had ever been before.

"Like father, like son." He chuckled. I could hear a tinge of hysteria in it. "I simply wanted to kill your father, but I guess you'll do." And without waiting another second, he grabbed the gun and shot it at Danny's heart. As he did, I saw my life flash before my eyes, as if in slow motion. I couldn't watch.

My life had become a complete nightmare.

I whirled around and ran to Danny who was kneeling down on the floor, facing the ground. There was nothing more terrifying than watching my best friend vomit blood. I held him in my arms, choking on my tears. And to think that even yesterday—before the stupid fight—we were just hanging out at the Nasty Burger, talking and making fun of Tucker's corny jokes. Yesterday seemed so far away.

He quickly wrapped his bloodied arms around my waist and buried his face into my shoulder. I held onto him tighter. Nothing, not even death, was going to take my Danny away from me. It was then I realised that he was struggling to talk.

"I didn't mean it... when I said those... things to you..." He closed his eyes, and took deep, ragged breaths. "The only reason I was strong... was because of... you." I held my breath for a few seconds. Why was he telling me this now?

"Stop talking, Danny... you're wearing yourself out. You're gonna be okay, I promise. And as long as you're okay, I'll be okay too."

After being quiet for a moment, I noticed that he'd stopped breathing.

No. He can't be... gone.

All I could do was to hold his body in my arms and cry while I whispered the same thing over and over again.

I love you.

His name was Daniel Fenton, but I called him Danny, sometimes Danny-kins. He was my best friend, and I loved him in every way possible. Today marks the day he's been dead for a year now, but I don't think of him as "gone". Not my Danny.

I believe that he's here, in spirit. In my heart.

Sometimes, I can feel him watching over me, making sure I'm alright. He's there and yet he's not there, drifting somewhere about in between my streams of consciousness. His laugh, his funny faces, his corny jokes, and even the one time he yelled at me… play like a broken tape on repeat in my monochrome memories. I sing a broken melody in return, wanting more than anything for him to know I'm always thinking of him wherever he is, wherever he goes.

And maybe I can't go back to my past, my memories, my love… but that's okay, because he's still listening to me wherever I go.

But you really need to listen to me, because I'm telling you the truth.

End, and with that a new beginning. Here's to looking up! -cheers-