Author's Note: Hello! :) I got sucked into PhannieMay, as many others have, and I figured now was as good as a time as any to start posting here. I haven't written much DP yet, but let me assure you I've been stalking fics for a loooong while. I've probably wanted to write for the phandom for just as long, so here I am. Enjoy this collection! It will be updated whenever inspiration hits…and whenever homework allows. ;)

Prompt: PhannieMay2014 - Space

Category: Gen (Canon)

Characters/Pairings: Sam, Danny, Tucker

Ratings/Warnings: K+; set before "Mystery Meat"

Word Count: 915

Summary: She thought what each of them needed was space. She was wrong.

Extra Note: Inspired by ectoimp's beautiful headcanon. You can find it on ectoimp's tumblr (page two of "DP HeadCanons/Discussions"). *rolls eyes at FF for not allowing us to post links* Special thank you to ErinNovelist for looking this over for me!

This Time

At first, she hadn't known what to do, what to say. She had seen the way his smile suddenly dropped; she had seen the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers clenched at his bed sheets, the way he looked at her and Tucker. She had noticed how afraid he was and how desperately he tried to hide the green glow filtering into his eyes.

Sam hadn't followed him when he mumbled an excuse, panic and shame painfully clear in his tone, and escaped to the bathroom.

She and Tucker could hardly look at each other. The power slip-ups were one thing, but this was another. They had sat in stunned silence until a jittery and subdued Danny returned, and to her shame, she'd smiled at him and acted as though nothing was wrong, though they all knew perfectly well what had happened in the bathroom. The utter relief on his face had almost been worth the guilt she felt clawing through her gut.

The next few times this occurred… He needs space is all, she had tried to tell herself. Tuck had silently agreed with her when they were alone. She had tried to tell herself that Danny, too, was giving them space, just so that they might get used to the idea that…

But if that was true, why had she lied awake the past few nights, unable to sleep? Unable to stop staring at the ceiling? Unable to prevent the dread and guilt from immobilizing her completely? Why was it that, whenever she had managed to close her eyes, all she saw were flashes of acidic green light? And all she heard were his screams?

Tucker had admitted that he hadn't been sleeping well either, and the pair lived like zombies at school without Danny there. The other students knew better than to tease them, and the teachers cut them some slack.

Even then, they hadn't realized.

This time, as she watched his face crumple and fear overcome his blue—now green—eyes, she realized how disgustingly selfish she had been.

I did this to him. It was the first time she could face the truth for what it was. If she hadn't dared him into the Portal…

Space, was it? Was that really their excuse? It was never space they needed, and Sam wished she could black her own eye for neglecting to realize sooner.

Sam and Tucker thought they lost Danny that day. They very nearly did, and his…ghost form was a reminder of how, for one second, they thought he was dead—fully dead. It was this very same form that made Danny think he might lose them now. It was a reminder he…wasn't completely human anymore.

This needed to end. Fears needed to be faced. Danny was alive, and whatever else, he was no monster.

So this time, Sam followed him. Tucker was only a step behind her.

Jazz and his parents weren't home tonight—they thought Danny was well on his way to recovery from his "shock" and did not mind them staying to catch their son up on what he missed at school—so they were in no danger of being overheard.

Sam knocked on the door and called, "Danny?"

It appeared that in his haste, Danny neglected to fully close the door, so it popped open the moment her knuckles hit it. Without waiting for a response from him, she pushed through the door and strode in with Tucker at her side.

Danny was huddled on the floor, his forehead pressed against the toilet seat. Shudders wracked his frame, and upon hearing them enter, he shifted slightly and stared at them with frenzied, glowing eyes.

But they were his eyes. Sam would know them anywhere.

"G—guys," Danny rasped, curling into tighter ball as they came closer. He sounded as though he was hyperventilating. "Please…please…I—"

"It's okay," Sam interrupted soothingly. She ignored the stench of vomit and sat directly on the floor beside him. He flinched when she took his hand, but his teeth were chattering far too loudly for her to make out whatever protest he made.

Tucker, who perched himself on the edge of the tub, however, seemed to have been able to interpret what their friend said. "We're not going anywhere, dude."

"We're so sorry," Sam added. "Don't fight it, Danny. Please. You're making yourself sick."

A glowing tear slipped down his cheek, and he grit his teeth. "Sam, I…"

"No, listen to me," Sam said, gently turning him toward her and forcing him to look her in the eye. "We haven't been here for you these past few days, but we're here now, and Tucker's right: we're not going anywhere. We're in this together, Danny."

Her friend released a sharp sob, and she continued, "Stop fighting it. It will be okay, I promise. We'll still be here, and we're going to help you figure this out."

Sam Manson wasn't normally one for hugging, but a few days ago, she nearly lost her best friend. She needed this just as much as he did. Danny shuddered once more before relaxing fully into her embrace. That strange halo of light passed over his body, and though he was freezing cold, Sam didn't release him. Not for a single second.

By this point, Tucker had slipped onto the floor and joined them. His hands were firm on both Danny and Sam's shoulders. "We aren't going anywhere," he repeated. "And neither are you."