From their home town to the city in Michigan they were visiting was going to be a six hour trip with minimal stops. Danny was used to long trips with his family -although his parents drove crazy and fast- so when three hours passed quickly, he wasn't too surprised to find they were already half way there. So far, everything had been going better than he could have imagined. Dash wasn't throwing things at the back of his head, Paulina and Star weren't gossiping about everyone on the cramped school bus -although the entire back of the bus was rather loud, they weren't being necessarily mean- Sam and Tucker weren't bickering beside him. Somehow, it was bliss. For a while.

He just couldn't pay attention to things; he sighed and leaned heavier on the shaking and rattling window, squished himself further in the two person seat. An elbow jabbed into his ribs and a hip push him deeper into the shiny, cold metal, he heard a passing apology before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

Gravity told him they were swerving or drifting or sliding or swinging, his head bounced off the window harshly further dazing his fogged mind, yet making things somewhat sharper. It was a dream. A few of the students were screaming, more talking loudly or muttering, some gasping; one particular girl screamed louder than the others. Paulina was the first name to register. He smiled. Another elbow to the ribs made him turn to Sam, she was pushing further into him, Tucker into her, the bus had started tipping. They were looking at him, begging him to do something with powers that couldn't do anything quick enough. They were over the cliff, glass shattered, something rammed deep into his skull, into his brain. He watched the continuation from above.

"You know," Danny turned to ClockWork's adult form, but never took his eyes from the rolling bus, "you weren't supposed to die." He looked to the older man briefly and nodded, eyes trailing back to his friends, enemies, acquaintances, teachers...

"What-" He choked, swallowed, and looked away, "what happened?"

ClockWork shook his head, "It was an accident, or maybe your driver didn't check everything before leaving." He knew, but Danny didn't question the vagueness. "I'll come back."

He was gone and Danny was alone.

The bus finished its decent with the help of a now bent out tree, but he didn't move, didn't help; there were people alive, he could hear them. Hear their whispering lungs, their small cries for help, their pleas to not be dead, the screams over crushed and destroyed extremities. Hear their blame. "No..." He shook his head, it wasn't his fault. There wasn't anything he could do in a split second. Yet he still fell to his knees in shame, sat between his bent legs with a bent head, shuddering and gripping his hair.

It was white. His hair was white. "I saved my selfish self." He muttered and gripped his ears, his hair, his skull tighter and tighter, and returned with bloody hands. Red and green.

Someone walked through him, ran -more of- down the hill and to the crash while shouting and hollering for someone to answer. Another person ran through him also, they were on the phone, shouting to someone from the police department or so and quickly joined the first one. Danny guessed they were family -a father and son. The father was digging through the rubble with work gloves and fighting to reach the barely heard, to the man, whimpers. Danny could hear them all too clearly; the son shoved his phone into his pocket and pulled on work gloves that were shoved in his belt loops. The man was able to fish out the driver and shut off the automotive before returning and pulled out Lancer. Danny gasped at the torn familiar face, bruises and blood that was all his fault.

"No way..."

The son had started at the back of the bus and pulled out Paulina. She was dead. Danny could sense the lack of life in her. Next was Star, dead. Valerie, dead. Kwan was dead. Dash was dead. Shauna Peters, Shari Johnson, Craig Micheal, John Mark, Sam, and Tucker, Mikey, Micheal M, Teddy, PJ, Jacob E, everyone was dead.

Then one of the firemen pulled him out -him, his body, lifeless, bloody- and laid him beside Tucker and Dash. There was a large gash in his head, an indent, that was pouring warm, milky blood and staining the dusty and dirty ground.

The medics didn't even check him, just placed his body on a unzipped bag and closed the curtain on his human life. Half of the dead students were treated the same and shipped off in ambulances that returned when minutes passed. The other half were almost resuscitated, but only gripped life for seconds more and fell flat on their backs, cold, red, dead. Paulina was standing in the forest line, like Danny she could only stare at her dead body. Dash stood from inside the glass and twisted metal, as if only waking, and turned frightened eyes at his body being covered. Danny wondered what the other boy had been doing for, at least, ten minutes, before Dash's eyes filled with understanding and turned to his defiant ones.

Danny looked away, Dash disappeared.

But reappeared beside Danny causing the smaller to flinch and jolt away. Dash sat beside him and watched the happenings silently.

Tucker was dead, actually dead. Sam wasn't. However, she wasn't awake yet either.

He could hear whispers of accusation coming from her soul.

Tucker was dead.

Everyone was dead!

He was dead!

A raw sob ripped from his throat and drowned any companionship he had with every person that was on the bus. Dash was straight faced, looking forward -ignoring?- yet fidgety and confused. "I'm sorry." Danny muttered, "I'm sorry."

"There wasn't anything you could have done." He murmured, the usual fire and hate that would cloud his voice had seemed to disappear with his life. "No one could have done anything."

"I- I- Yes there was! I should have-"

"Daniel." ClockWork. "Don't speak what you'll regret." Dash looked surprised, Danny wondered if ClockWork knew he was being hypocritical; he nodded once more, but his crying didn't cease. ClockWork, too, disappeared, but he never came back.

The second bus filled with the rest of their class year pulled up behind them.