A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfic, so sorry if the characters are a little (or a lot) OOC. Just blame it on the situation that you are about to read. Also, this will be a multi-chaptered story, so I apologize in advance if I don't update as often as I would like. Anyway, on with the story

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, OWN DANNY PHANTOM IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!


I hear footsteps. Or at least, I think I do. I'm not exactly sure, what with the blood roaring in my ears and the steady beating of rain against pavement. I always liked that sound. I don't know why. Yup. definitely footsteps. They're slightly closer now, but still far enough away. Its pretty dark. Well after midnight I'm sure. Maybe 2:00 in the morning? 3:00? Oh well, I have better things to worry about than the time. Maybe I'm hallucinating, but I'm almost positive I hear two sets of footsteps now, the second much fainter than the first, but definitely there. I have to muster up all the strength I possibly can, but I manage to dive into the alley beside me, right behind a dumpster—A really foul smelling dumpster, mind you— but not before I hear a loud CRACK echoing down the entire street. Pain shoots up my left leg, originating from my ankle, and somewhere in the back of my mind it registers that it probably caught on something and broke it, and I start to feel dizzy. I have more pressing matters to worry about than that right now. Like not being seen—or eaten. I still don't know what's making those foot steps, and I'd rather not find out. All I know is that there are two of them. I hope they don't notice the puddle of blood on the ground from where I was laying moments ago. Speaking of that, I'm pretty sure I should wrap up the cut on my side, but what can I really do? Not much. It sort of hurts to move, and I'm about half a mile from my house anyway. Besides, I'm kinda tired. I don't really feel like walking. How did I even get this wound in the first place? I think I was stabbed, mugged maybe? I was walking in the shitty part of Amity Park, the neighborhood with all the shootings and bank robberies, and the stabbings, I think. It's hard to remember. Tonight was mostly a haze of fighting and pain. And blood. Lots of blood. My shirt starts to feel wet against my chest. I can't tell what's on it though. Sweat? Ectoplasm? Blood? A mixture of the three? I doubt that stain would ever come out. Not that I'd even try to remove it. I know next to nothing about removing stains. Maybe mom would be able to do it for me when I manage to get home. Or Jazz even. She knows about that kind of stuff, I think.

The footsteps are really close now. Close enough for me to hear voices. Voices and... barking? I can hear claws scraping against the pavement. The dog is definitely the closest. It sounds like one of those annoying small dogs. What are they called again? Chihuahuas? The stupid yapping is starting to hurt my ears. Ever since I got my ghost powers, animals have hated me. I think I heard somewhere that they can sense death. Maybe that's why. The dog won't shut up, and I'm getting a headache. And an everything else ache. Damn it. I hope the owners of the two voices don't notice me. That would be embarrassing; Amity's hero found bleeding and injured on the ground in an alley behind a dumpster. Of course they wouldn't know that. I'm in my human form. To them I'm just Danny Fenton: that kid who's parents are crazy ghost hunters. It would probably make the local newspapers but thats really it. It would still be embarrassing. I hate getting attention from people other than my friends. Even attention from mom and dad is a little out of my comfort zone. Wow. That sounds pretty messed up, but what can I do? Its the truth.

"What is it, pookie?" Male. Around my age. His voice is vaguely familiar, but I can't quite place it. And Pookie? I'm going to assume he's referring to the chihuahua. What a dumb name. I can hear the other person laughing now.

"Dude, I still can't believe you actually named your dog Pookie!" Also male. Probably around my age. The new voice sounds vaguely familiar as well. I can't place either.

"I've told you a thousand times! Pookie is my grandma's dog! She named him that. She had to give him to us after she moved!" Who's us? Are there more than one of him? Or does he mean his family? I hope there's only one of him. I don't know why, but I have a feeling I know him, and I'm pretty sure I don't like him. I don't know. I can't really think right now. It hurts my head to try.

"Whatever. I still think its hilarious." The second voice replied.

"Shut up, retard. You can't make fun of an old woman." There was silence after this, and what I could only imagine was the second person holding up his hands in mock defeat. I can't be sure. Its too dark to see. I'm too far away from them anyway.

I can still hear that stupid chihuahua yapping angrily at me. It's making my headache worse. I have to stifle the urge to groan.

"Do you think he sees something in there?" Its the first voice that asks that. He's using a much more serious tone than before. I'm tempted to say: 'Yeah. He does. Right here.' But I decide not to. Mostly because I don't really want to be found. And even if I tried, I don't think I'd be able to get the words out properly.

My hair is getting wet now. It's sticking grossly to my forehead. Something is dripping down my face. I think its water. Is it still raining? I can't really tell. I hear a sound like someone tripping over their feet.

"Shit!" It was the second voice.

"What the hell, man? You almost knocked me over!"

"I fuckin' slipped on something!"

"It's raining, What did you expect? The ground is wet!"

"Well I'm pretty sure it wasn't water! Its too dark to be water!"

"Some drunk probably threw up on the ground! Lets get out of here. C'mon Pookie!" The second voice snickers at the use of the dumb name again.

"Gimme your phone." He demands.

"Why? Use your own!"

"Mine's dead!"

"What do you even need it for?"

"I wanna get the puke off my shoes, and I need light!" The first voice groans, and I can only assume that he hands his friend the device, because neither say anything for a few seconds. I'm pretty sure they haven't left yet.

"Dude..." the second voice says.

"What?" The other snapped.

"Look,"

"Gross! I am so not looking at your pukey shoes!"

"It's not puke." They're both silent for a few seconds.

"I-is that... Blood?"

"Uh-huh."

"Whose do you think it is?"

"I don't know! But there's a trail of it leading into that alley. Look." Oh. Oh shit. Oh my fucking god. They're gonna find me. I try to be cool. Silent, like I'm not even there. Maybe, its too dark. Hopefully they'll skip over me. Somehow, I doubt that. They have a cell phone. And cell phones mean light. The bright kind that hurts your eyes when you look at it in the dark before they have time to adjust. Fuck. A cough escapes my lips before I have time to hold it back. And then another. And another. It fills my mouth with a metallic taste. I don't like it.

"D-did you hear that?" Its the second voice.

"Let's check it out."

"How about no."

"You're such a girl."

"Am not!"

"C'mon."

"Fine. I still don't think its a good idea."

"Shut up."

I want to scream at them to just. Stop. Talking. I can't do it though. My tongue is heavy in my mouth. The footsteps start again. I'm almost positive the two friends are in this alley now. I realize that I can't see them. Did my eyes close at some point? Funny, I don't remember closing them. The cell phone light shines in my face now. I can see it even through my eyelids. Its bright. I squeeze them tighter in an attempt to block it out. It doesn't work.

"Holy shit."

"It's— oh my god. I-is that...?"

"Fenturd?"


What the hell? What the actual fuck? I don't even know what to think. The kid I pick on is on the ground behind a dumpster. He's bleeding, it looks like he has multiple broken bones, and he's littered with bruises. He looks half dead and I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do. Ok, I don't really like him. I never did. No one does. I always thought he was the weird kid in school. Him and his friends, Manson and Foley. But... This? I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. Even I'm not that cruel.

"Dude..." I say to Kwan.

"What the hell? What the hell..." He looks at me with a horrified expression, the same exact one that's probably plastered on my face as well.

"What do we do?" I ask.

"I don't know." Real helpful. I want to say. But I don't. I can't find it in me to be annoyed with him anymore. I'd probably say the same thing if he asked me what to do. I can't blame him right now.

"Should we... You know... Take him to the hospital or something?" He sounds uncertain. To be honest, I don't know. It would probably be a good idea.

"Yeah... Probably..." My voice trails off. Fenton's eyes shoot open. He stares at us for a few moments, his features uncharacteristically dull. The haunted look he gives us is creeping me out. He shakes his head violently.

"No. No, no, no, no, no. No hospitals." He rasped. He sounds scared. He tries to back away from us, but there's a wall in his way. One of his legs kicks out weakly. It collides with my own leg, but it seems to hurt him more than me. He winces and pulls it back towards him. His ankle is twisted in an uncomfortable looking position. I think its safe to assume he broke it somehow. It looks painful.

"Fenton—" Kwan breathes. He was caught off guard by a loud cough.

"No, don't… get up." Too late. He uses the wall to steady himself.

"'M fine... Jus'... Go 'way..." He slurs, taking slow breaths between every few words. I'm not convinced. Neither is Kwan. Clearly, he isn't. He pushes weakly past the two of us. We both part and let him through, too shocked for words.

"No, you're obviously not fine." As if in response to my muttered statement, Fenton collapsed onto his hands and knees in a fit of coughing. It quickly turned into retching. I look away. I don't want to watch. I take this opportunity to see where Pookie ran off too. (And just for the record, my grandma named him that, not me. She had to give him to my family after she moved back to Germany, and we never really bothered to change it. The name just kinda stuck.) Turns out, he wasn't too far away. Only a few meters ahead, I spot him. He's sniffing the side of a rundown brick building. I watch as he turns around, lifts his leg, and takes a piss right there on the sidewalk. I roll my eyes at him. He kicks his back legs to try and cover it up, even though there's nothing there but concrete.

"C'mere Pookie!" I call. He turns, looks at me, then barks and runs over. I turn and start walking back to the alley with the dumpster, and Pookie follows. Kwan spots me quickly.

"If we can't take him to the hospital, we can take him to my house. My parents aren't home. At least there, we could try to call someone and get help." He says. It sounds like a good idea, until another thought reaches my mind.

"What about your sister, though?"

"It's, like, almost 3 in the morning. She'll be asleep."

"Ok..." I still think its a bad idea not bringing him to the hospital, but hey, I know where he's coming from. I've gotten a few concussions playing football before. The hospital is definitely not a fun place to be. Kwan's house clearly seems like the better option here.

"You get his feet, I'll get his arms." Seems easy enough. He's laying motionless on the ground right now. I bend down, and grab his legs. Or at least, I try to. He struggles in our grasp, and it surprises me so much that I yelp and almost drop him. I thought for sure he was unconscious by now. Anyone who loses the amount of blood that he did should be almost dead by now, if not completely. Even if he was still awake, he shouldn't have been able to move at all. I'm not much of a doctor, but I know enough about injuries to at least know that. Kwan seems to have come to the same conclusion, because he too was starting to look confused. I glance at him. He's too preoccupied to look back at me. Fenton continues to struggle, but he's back on the ground now. His movements are unnatural and jerky, kind of like an unlucky fish who happens to be dropped on the ground too far away from its original water source, slowly suffocating to death.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Kwan and I stand outside of his house, the two of us both trying to support Fenton, who was now out cold. Or dead, but I decide it's best not to think like that. As much as I dislike him, I don't want him to just drop dead. 15, in my opinion, is too young an age to die. Anyway, it turns out he's a lot lighter than he looks. He can't be more than 80 or 85 pounds. I know he's short and scrawny, but this is ridiculous. It seems unhealthy. No. The problem with carrying an unconscious Danny Fenton was not his weight, that was for sure. It was the fact that no matter how well supported you think he is, he always seems to become capable of superhuman flexibility, and flops over like a dead fish. Did I already use that analogy? The fish thing I mean? Oh well, it's the best I can think of at the moment. I can only hope it's not the dead kind, but then again, who can really be sure? We heard movement from inside, and instantly froze.

"I thought you said your parents weren't home!" I hissed, keeping my voice as low as I dared, so as not to be heard by anyone besides Kwan, inside or out.

"They aren't! They went away for the entire week! Do you see any cars?"

"If it isn't them, then who the hell is it?"

"…" He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out.

"Well? Who the hell is in your house?"

"How should I know? I haven't been here most of the day!"

"One way to find out..."

"What are you…? Oh my god. Dude, don't... Just don't." I'm not listening. I look at the key, just sitting in the keyhole from where Kwan put it in when we first got here about 30 seconds ago. Thinking fast, I twist it. The door opens relatively easily, and I pull Kwan in front of me before hitting the light switch. I hope he's big enough to hide me. somehow, I doubt it. I push Fenton behind me, using my body to hide his from view. I have a feeling that despite my efforts, someone would still be able to see him if they looked out the door. I may be bigger than him, but I'm not fat. In the very least, I'd be able to block his injuries. I decide to peek around Kwan. There's a girl standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She has dark hair, like Kwan's, but hers is long. She's wearing a pair of fuzzy hot pink zebra patterned shorts and a simple white tank top. I recognize instantly who she is: Kwan's little sister.

"Sarah? What are you doing awake? it's almost like, three thirty in the morning!" He whisper-yelled.

"I could ask you the same question. What were you even doing out of the house so late, anyway?" She asked him in a voice that was only slightly lower than normal.

"Long story…" She scoffed at him.

"Mom and Dad said curfew was ten. They also said no friends over while they were gone." She said, matter of factly, gesturing to the two of us. The two of us being me and Fenton.

"Well, then, I guess Mom and Dad aren't going to find out about this, then. Right Sarah?"

"Oh yeah? And who's gonna stop me from calling them right now, hmm?"

"Look, this is kind of an emergency. Couldn't you just run along up to your room and go to sleep?"

"Couldn't you just run along up to your room and go to sleep?" She mimicked in a falsetto voice that sounded nothing like Kwan's. "I suppose I could do that, couldn't I? But wouldn't it much more fun to see Mom and Dad freak at you?" she asked, holding her cell phone in one hand, the other still crossed over her chest. She was starting to dial the beginnings of some number that I didn't know, but assumed belonged to one of their parents.

"Wait, wait, wait! I told you it was an emergency! There's no need to make any calls!"

"Why shouldn't I call? It's their rules you're breaking, not mine."

"Ok, fine. You know what? I didn't want it to have to come to this, but… there's a 20 on my dresser. It's your's, as long as nobody finds out about this. Especially Mom and Dad."

"Make it 30, and you have a deal."

"But…" She cut him off by lifting her cell again and placing her fingers over the buttons.

"Fine."

"My lips are sealed." She said, bounding up the stairs, in hot pursuit of Kwan's money.

"Dude… you did not just bribe your little sister. What is she 13? Oh my god." I say, laughing like an idiot. I guess it's not actually as funny as it is in my head as it is in real life, but hey, I just saw a person bleed half to death at 3:00 in the morning, can you really blame me?

"12 actually. And yes, I think I did just bribe my little sister." This just causes me to laugh harder.

"You think? Oh my god, dude, this is hilarious." I say in between laughs.

"Ok, you can stop now. You're making a fool of yourself."

"Ok, ok. I think I'm done." I tell him, catching my breath.

"You know, it wasn't that funny." Kwan says.

"C'mon give me a break. It's 3 AM. And just for the record, it was kind of funny."

"Ok. But seriously, we should really do something about…" He glances at the unconscious Fenton, who miraculously seemed to fold himself in half in an almost perfect 180 degree angle, while simultaneously hanging awkwardly in my arms in what had to be a very uncomfortable position.

"Couch?" I ask.

"Bathroom, for now. I don't think I would be able to come up with an excuse for a bloody couch. And I definitely don't think my parents would be happy about that."

"'K." Is all I have to say to that. I follow Kwan down the hallway, even though I know the way. I've been here enough times. The thing is, the walkway is just too narrow for more than one person, so I walk behind him, hauling Fenton after me.

°•°•°•°•°•°

"First things first, we should try to stop the bleeding." Kwan says. I don't argue with him. His mom is a nurse, after all. He would probably know way more about first aid than I do, considering I have very little knowledge of it myself.

"How? I don't see any gashes…" I start awkwardly, even though I know full well that it's hidden under his clothing. I guess I'm just trying to put off the inevitable removal of his shirt. I know It's necessary, but it feels… wrong, to put it lightly. Like a complete invasion of personal space. Kwan gives me a look in somewhere in between a glare and a smirk. It's weird, coming from him. He was never the serious one out of our little group of friends. I suppose neither am I, but still… Its just weird. I guess this entire situation is 'just weird'. I look back at Kwan again, but he's on the other side of the large bathroom, digging through a cabinet for what I assume to be first aid supplies. He seems to sense my eyes on his back, because without turning around, he says,

"Just take it off while I get this stuff, will you?"

"Huh?" I reply stupidly.

"His shirt. Take it off."

Oh. Heh, heh. Right." I don't have to look to know that Kwan is rolling his eyes at me. Fenturd's lying face up on the floor, and his shirt is red with blood. There's so much of it, and I really don't want to see the wound under the cloth, but it's either that or Kwan won't be able to bandage it and stop the bleeding. So, I put both of my hands on it and attempt to pull it over his head. It gets caught a few times on his arms, which hang limply at his sides. It's really gross, and the wetness of it causes the shirt to stick to him, but I manage to peel it off completely. I throw it in the sink, because I have no idea where else to put it, and turn to Kwan, who's holding a few towels and some medical supplies. I suppose it's because his mom is a nurse, as I've already mentioned, but they never seem to have a shortage of that stuff.

"So… what now?" I ask. I'm still looking to him, forcing myself not to look down at Fenton, because I'm sure the sight of his injury will gross me out. Don't get me wrong, I'm not usually squeamish, but with that much blood, it can't be a pretty image to look at. He hands me a towel.

"First, you have to help me try and stop the flow of blood." He tells me.

"And how exactly do I do that?" I'm still refusing to look at him.

"Come here, I'll show you." reluctantly, I bend down and force myself to look at the boy on the floor. That is definitely going on my list of things I regret doing. It's hard to look at. The gash starts half way down his left rib cage and forms a thick, jagged (not to mention red) line all the way down to his hip, as if someone with a shaky hand had dragged a knife through him. His torso is smeared with the thick red blood that's still spilling slowly out of the cut. The skin around it is red and tender, and it's starting to bruise nicely. The most disturbing thing, I think, is that that isn't the only injury. I would be okay with it if it was just a few scrapes here and there, but this… There has to be hundreds of them, some of them old scars, some of them so fresh they're still bleeding. Some of the older ones looked pretty bad too, but not as bad as this one. It looked pretty awful in the harsh fluorescent lighting, and over the backdrop of his pale skin. The bruises didn't do anything to help either. They painted his chest and stomach in the most horrific shades of purple, yellow, and, green. All in all, his whole appearance makes me want to throw up. I wince, but I can't bring myself to look away. What has to have been happening to him to make him look this bad? You know what, I don't even want to think about it. And I certainly don't want to know. I'm sure Fenton doesn't want me to know about this either, let alone see it. And honestly? It's none of my business.

"You have to apply pressure, like this for at least fifteen minutes, see?" Kwan had one of the towels layered between the cut and both of his hands.

"It looks like you have that under control. Why don't I try to call someone instead." In truth, I just don't want to 'apply pressure' as Kwan put it. It looks like it's hurting him, because he flinches. He doesn't wake up, not yet, but at least we know he's still alive. Kwan looks at me and sees my discomfort at the situation, and nods.

"If you can find a way, and a number, go ahead." My expression twists into a smirk. I have just the right idea. It should work, as long as he has his phone on him, which he does. I can see it sticking out of his pocket, so I move to grab it. There're a few drops of blood on it but that doesn't really surprise me, given the situation. What does surprise me is the huge multitude of cracks covering the front. On second thought, it doesn't really surprise me. The kid's a klutz, and I've seen him drop it countless times. I press the button on the top, and a glowing logo appears on the screen. As soon as it's on, a low battery signal pops up, and tells me to 'charge your battery soon. Only 12% left!' He must've turned it off to save the battery. Oh well, because it's being used now. The next thing I notice is a little red circle with a 14 on it on the corner of the green 'messages' icon. And on the yellow 'calls' icon is a little red circle with a 3 on it. Like the good person I am, I ignore both of them. It's probably his girlfriend, Manson, or something like that. I'll tease him for it later, maybe when he isn't busy dying. But for now, I decide it's best not to get caught up in his personal business, especially now, when there is an urgent call to be made. I go through his contact list, and click on the first number I see, which just so happens to be, you guessed it, Manson. I have to admit, I've never actually tried to talk to her, I mean, for real. To be honest, her temper kind of scared me off, but I have to swallow my fear. She is his girlfriend after all, she has a right to know. And I'm sure he'd be less freaked out to see her when he wakes up than me and Kwan. I have to be honest here, I'm a bit mean to him. I can hear the phone ringing, once, twice, three times. And then she picks up.

"Danny! I've been trying to get a hold of you all night! are you ok? What happened?" I swallow before answering. She doesn't sound mad, but she sure as hell doesn't sound happy, either.

"Danny? You're starting to scare me. Just answer already." I gulp. Here goes nothing.


A/N: DUN DUN DUN! Oh no, a cliff hanger. what will Sam do when she finds out that Danny is horrendously injured, and in the custody (well not really, but that's the best word I can think of at 10:35 at night) of Dash and Kwan? You shall see, you shall see. Well that is, if anyone is actually reading this. Anyway, what did you think? Push that sexy lil' button down there and tell me in a review! Pwease? It would make me vewy vewy happy :P :P :P I apologize again if the characters are OOC. Also, we humans are not perfect, so tell me if there are any mistakes in grammar or spelling or anything else and I will gladly go back and fix it! But I won't be able to find them if you don't review so... you know what to do! XD