Disclaimer: Butch Hartman's and Nickelodeon's. Not mine, sadly.

Rating: K+

Warnings and Pairings: Spoilers for Control Freaks. DxS-ish. Really more friendshippy than relationshippy, but still fairly sentimental. I'm a sap, what can I say?

Author's Notes: This one-shot is something that's been floating around my head, and now that the kids are back in school and I have time to write the sequel to Infinite Potential, I'm having trouble getting started, so I thought I'd wet the old writing appetite by doing this one instead. Forgive the errors… I didn't even bother getting it beta-tested because my usual beta-tester already has three chapters from me and I hate inundating her with more. But if you read this, Dragon, and have any suggestions for me, let me know and I'll revise.

ETA: And a big thanks to DragonDancer5150 for catching a redundancy. This is why I need her to beta for me. (sheepish grin)

And for anyone who's interested: the other novel-length story I'm working on besides the IP sequel is still on track for posting at the end of this month or the beginning of next month. :)

BY A WIRE

It had been a long night, what with breaking Freak Show's weird control on him—and the other ghosts—explaining to the police exactly what had happened (as best they could without giving away his identity), and then the group grounding at Sam's house. By the time his parents were driving him and Tucker home, Danny was spent.

Tucker seemed to have a little more energy, however, and couldn't stop talking about the night's events, confident that the noise from the Fenton RV's engines and the distance between the two of them in the back seats and Danny's parents in the front seats would keep them from being overheard. "Man, that was really creepy, the way Freak Show could just control you and the other ghosts like that. Remind me not to get on your bad side. You're kinda scary when you're evil."

Danny slumped in his seat, weary. "It's all kind of fuzzy to me. I know I robbed all those banks and jewelry stores and junk, but the only part I really remember is when Sam fell off the train and I had to save her." He tried not to think about how close a call that had been, how he could have lost one of the two most important people in his lives, outside of his family, had he not been able to shake Freak Show's control long enough to dive after her. Then something else niggled at the back of his brain, and he frowned. "Wait. That was the second time I saved her from falling, right? I think I vaguely remember her… falling off a high wire at Circus Gothica?" What the heck would Sam have been doing on a high wire at Circus Gothica anyway?

Tucker snorted. "Yeah, you got to be the hero twice. Although, she wouldn't have needed rescuing if it weren't for you being under Freak Show's control in the first place."

"Yeah, I know." Danny gave Tucker a sheepish grin. "She would've never been in danger in the first place if you guys hadn't come after me. Thanks for that, by the way."

"Well, yeah, but I'm talking about you cutting the wire on Sam back at Circus Gothica." Tucker shook his head. "'Bout gave me a heart attack."

Danny blinked. "Wait. I what?"

"You cut the wire. Then when she fell, I guess you kinda snapped out of it and went after her."

Danny's heart froze in his chest as hazy imagines came back to him. Sam, struggling to keep her balance on a high wire. Danny, listen. You don't want to do this. You're being controlled… Himself, with a huge scythe in his hands, and… He swallowed. It's true! I cut the wire!

Tucker shook his head, oblivious to Danny's horror. "Good thing you snapped out of it when you did."

Danny closed his eyes, trying to stop the flow of fuzzy memories. "Yeah. Good thing."

Tap tap tap…

Sam blinked and rubbed bleary eyes. What was that annoying noise that woke her up at—she glanced at the clock on her nightstand—1:13 AM? And there it was again, tap tap tap… It sounded like someone knocking at her window. And then she knew what it was, the only thing it could be, and she sat upright, instantly awake. Slipping out of bed, she grabbed her fluffy, purple robe off the back of her chair and pulled it on as she hurried to the window to draw back the heavy red drapes. As she expected, Danny was floating just outside, and he phased into the room as soon as she opened the drapes.

"What's wrong?" she asked him as he re-solidified. "Did that one ghost Freak Show wasn't controlling come back?"

Danny shook his head and morphed into human form. "No ghosts. I just... I needed to talk to you."

"You needed to...?" She crossed her arms in front of her half-open robe. "Are you nuts? We just got off one of the worst groundings of our lives, I only barely convinced my parents to lift that restraining order against you, and you decide it'd be a good idea to come over here after one AM to talk?"

"I know, Sam, but it's driving me crazy. I couldn't sleep, couldn't get it out of my head, so I had to come and see you. It couldn't wait."

It was then that she noticed how haggard he looked, with dark circles under heavy-lidded eyes. She frowned, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What couldn't wait? What's wrong?"

"I..." He looked at her, but seemed unable to quite meet her eyes, and quickly looked down at the floor. "I didn't remember most of what happened while I was under Freak Show's control, but Tucker told me, and now it's kinda coming back. It's still a blur, but I... I remember what I did now."

She scoffed. "Is that all? You already fixed everything with the police, Danny. They know Freak Show was responsible for the robberies, and all the money and junk was in that train car, so—"

"I'm not talking about the robberies, Sam. I'm talking about what happened to you. I just... I'm so sorry."

Rolling her eyes, she waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, please. It was no big deal."

His head snapped up and he finally met her gaze and she was surprised by the pain she saw there. "You almost died. Twice! That's a huge deal!"

"Danny, it's not like it's the first time all this ghost stuff has been dangerous. The Lunch Lady, Ember, the Fright Knight... being a target for these creeps comes with the territory. I know that, you know that, and Tucker knows that. But it's never caused you to lose sleep before."

"This is different."

"How is it different?"

"Because this time it was my fault!"

She let out an impatient huff of air. "Just because you're the one with the super powers doesn't mean it's your fault whenever one of us ends up in the crosshairs. I told you, it comes with the territory. Tucker and I make our own choices."

"I'm not talking about that, Sam!" He ran a hand over his hair, pulling it back away from his forehead before letting it fall forward again. "I'm not talking about it being indirectly my fault. I'm talking about what I personally did. To you. One of the most important people in my life ever, and I almost killed you. I put you up on that wire. I cut it. Not Freak Show. Me!"

"You were being controlled, Danny!"

"It doesn't matter!"

"Of course it matters! I know that wasn't you, that you didn't want to cut that wire. You were fighting it the whole time!"

"But it still was me who put you in danger in the first place. I know you were scared, Sam. That much I do remember. So don't tell me this isn't going to haunt you. You can't fall like that—twice—and not have nightmares about it afterwards. And what are you going to see in those nightmares? What will you remember when it comes flashing back? My face. My hand. Me doing it to you."

She swallowed, completely taken aback by his intensity. "Danny..." She put her hand on his shoulder again, but he brushed it off and turned away from her. With a resolute breath, she took him by the shoulder again, more firmly this time, and turned him towards her. "Do you wanna know what I remember when I see it in my head? That even though you were being controlled, even though all of the other ghosts being controlled had no free will at all, you shook it off. Twice. Just for a moment, but it was still more than anyone else could do. And you did it to save me. And do you know what that says to me? It says that our friendship is stronger than anything any two-bit villain can throw at us. That's what I'll remember about all this, Danny."

He stared at her a moment, blinking rapidly, then suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if she were a life preserver. With his cheek pressed against her hair, he said in a ragged voice, "I love you, Sam."

Her heart almost stopped beating. There was no mistaking what he meant, that he was talking about their friendship and nothing more. But somehow, that made it more meaningful. He wasn't being a hormone-driven teenage boy, looking to say whatever words would get him the most action. He was speaking from his heart, saying that she was important to him. That she mattered. And she wanted to tell him that she loved him, too, but the words stuck in her throat, so instead she just held him and let him hold her.

A knock on the door shattered the moment, and her mother's voice came through the door. "Sammy? Are you still up?"

Danny disappeared, evaporating from Sam's grasp—literally—and she had to bite back a bitter sigh before heading for the door to open it for her mother. "Sorry, Mom. I got up to go the bathroom."

"Why did I hear voices?" Her mother peered past her to look into the room. "You'd better not be on the phone with one of your friends. It's almost one-thirty."

"I wasn't on the phone." She indicated her desk where her cell phone was plugged into the charger. "I just stubbed my toe. Sorry if I made too much noise."

Her mom took another cursory look around the room, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. But then she nodded. "All right, then. Just go back to bed. It's late."

"I know. Night, Mom."

"Good night, sweetie."

Her mom withdrew, and Sam closed the door behind her. Leaning against it, she waited a beat before whispering as quietly as she could, "Danny? Are you still here?"

There was no answer, and this time she did sigh. Pulling off her robe, she flung it over the back of her desk chair, then got back into bed. And when she closed her eyes, it wasn't falling that she remembered, or his words afterwards: How should I scare you? Rather, it was the feel of his cheek pressed against her hair, and the warmth of his arms wrapped around her, and his ragged whisper in her ear.

And only now that he was gone could she finally whisper back. "I love you, too."