Disclaimer: I don't own DP.
A/N: This is a belated Christmas/New Year's gift for my dear friend ErinNovelist, who asked for an AU-Sam-and-Tucker reveal. I am always up for a good revelation fic, so I hope you guys enjoy this!
"Something's wrong, Tuck."
Tucker paused mid-chew, a little bit of Nasty Sauce slipping from the bun and splattering on his chin. "You're not eating," he said, his mouth full, "that's what's wrong."
Her expression twisted into a scowl, and she wrinkled her nose. "You're disgusting, Tucker," Sam scolded, throwing a napkin at him. "Can you be serious for one second, please?"
Tucker followed her gaze to the empty spot beside him, where sat a lukewarm and abandoned meal. He, of course, stole some of the uneaten fries. Tucker did that all the time, even if Danny was there to stop him. They were always taking stuff off each other's plates without asking, and the familiarity of it made Sam's heart ache.
The three of them hadn't been to the Nasty Burger in awhile.
"Something isn't right," she repeated.
"Sam," Tucker sighed. "He's fine."
"Tuck, I don't think he's been fine since his accident."
"Sam, chill. He just got up to go to the bathroom."
Sam grit her teeth. "And I bet if you went in there to ask if he really were okay, you'd actually find him there?" she snapped bitterly.
Tucker was silent for a moment. It had happened earlier this week. Danny had completely ditched third period and had been unaccounted for when the ghost attacked the school grounds. Before she and Tuck could be herded into the gym, they had gone to search for him in the bathroom, which was where he had headed before class started, and when they hadn't been able to find him, it had scared the two friends shitless. Sam still hadn't quite forgiven Danny for popping up out of nowhere once the ghosts were gone. He'd laughed off their concerns.
"Sam, we're his best friends," Tuck finally said.
"It hasn't felt like it lately," Sam muttered under her breath.
If Tucker heard, he gave no sign. "But he doesn't have to tell us everything, you know? Whatever happened in the lab that day…"
"So you do think it has something to do with his accident?" Sam inquired.
Danny had been out of school for a month, and Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had refused to let them see him for a good three weeks of that month. Through text messaging, they had learned he was doing fine and that he'd been in some form of accident in his parents' lab. He hadn't said much else, and they had respected that.
When they had finally been allowed to visit him, his parents had hovered, protective and concerned, as though they thought Danny would pass out on them at any minute and need instant resuscitation.
That was a part of the reason why they hadn't noticed the changes until a week or so after Danny came back to school.
At first, Sam had thought he was suffering from some post-traumatic stress. She didn't blame him. Some of the stuff in his parents' lab was crazy enough to feature in any sane person's nightmares. Getting hurt by one of these inventions, and getting hurt as badly as Danny had…well, he had to live with a nightmare now.
That blinded her for a little while, and that was why they didn't suspect he—and the entire Fenton family, for that matter—was hiding something big from her and Tuck until months after the accident.
"Whatever it is, he'll have to tell us when he's ready. He's always had a hard time opening up about things. You've seen how anxious he gets when you try to press him," Tucker was saying, drawing her out of her thoughts.
"I've been saying that to myself for awhile now, Tuck," Sam said. "I thought he just needed time, but there's something else."
Danny was slowly drifting away, and his sister Jazz had become his shadow at school, which freaked Sam out more than she could admit. Danny and Jazz had an interesting love-hate sort of sibling rivalry, and suddenly he was allowing her to shadow him? Lately, however, school was the only place they ever saw Danny, and sometimes, they didn't even see him then. If it wasn't Jazz making some excuse for any of Danny's strange absences, then it was his parents.
And that was weird too. Danny's parents had never been neglectful, per se, but they were certainly paying more attention to him than they ever had. And if anything, Danny's relationship with them had improved and strengthened in a way she had never foreseen. Teens normally resented when parents got too "in-your-face," after all.
These were all the small things. The big thing tantalized her, dancing at the edges of her vision and settling at the very tip of her tongue. All she knew for certain was that it had something to do with Danny's too-wide and too-innocent eyes whenever she asked if he was alright. It had something to do with the new edge in his voice and the new weight he seemed to bear, and it had everything to do with the fact he refused to talk about what happened in the lab, that he suddenly refused to talk about the ghosts that had infiltrated their world, despite his parents' occupation and direct involvement. It had everything to do with the fact he was making more excuses than he ever had…and that she was losing sight of the boy she thought she—
"I can't do this anymore, Tuck," Sam said, standing from the table. "Everyone has their secrets, but I'm starting to get the feeling…if we don't talk to him soon, we might not get the chance again. He's pushing us away, slowly but surely. Don't you see?"
Jeez, Sam, you worry too much, Danny'd joked time and time again.
Only because he was beginning to avoid her. He was avoiding Tuck, too.
Sam, it's okay, he'd laughed more than once.
But it wasn't. Danny had never ditched them before.
Trust me, Sam, he'd said.
He'd never had to ask for her trust before.
"I'm going to—"
She would later deny that she screamed, but hey, it's not everyday that a green, decomposing ghost, its long teeth dripping with glowing saliva and its long tail whipping back and forth, dropped through the roof right next to you.
In retrospect, she reacted quite well, thank you very much. As the ghost slammed to the ground, the restaurant erupted into screams, and Sam, who'd ducked for cover, yanked Tucker under the table.
Once he was safe, she had just enough time to see a tangled head of white hair beneath the giant raptor's claws. Phantom's blazing green eyes caught hers as he struggled against the hold, his face smeared with ectoplasm, and for a second time stood still.
Fear laced through her when she saw the fear in his eyes.
Phantom hadn't been a part of her life for long. In fact, this was the closest she'd been to the elusive enigma of a ghost, but there was no doubt he'd gained a reputation within the few months after his appearance. Even the Fentons, ghost-hunters and paranormal researchers, trusted him to do what needed to be done. She would have never believed Jack Fenton would side with a ghost until they made a public announcement about the alliance, about how Phantom was different than the others.
She'd trusted him even before that announcement was made.
The moment shattered when the ghost hovering above Phantom gurgled a laugh and took advantage of his distraction, yanking him up by the claws and tearing through his upper arm. She lost the sound of Phantom's cry to the chaos of the remaining people in the Nasty Burger, and she could only watch in horror as a desperate ecto-bolt from Phantom hit his opponent on the snout. It roared in irritation, and before she could blink…
Silence.
"Oh my God," Tucker breathed next to her, releasing a hysterical chuckle. That chuckle quickly converted into a shriek as a loud crash from within the building rattled the very foundations. Of course the two ghosts hadn't gone far. From where Sam and Tuck huddled under the table together, they could hear a groan, several cracks and booms and echoing snarls and sizzling blasts, and a huge burst of running water emitting from the back of the restaurant.
They were fighting near the bathrooms. The pipes in the bathrooms must've…
The bathrooms.
"Oh my God," Sam echoed Tucker. "Danny."
Tucker's eyes widened, and together, the two scrambled out from under the table. Never would Sam have thought she'd be running toward a ghost fight, but at the moment, she didn't care. She didn't care that, moments ago, she had voiced doubts that Danny was in the bathroom at all.
Her friend might very well be back there, and if so, he was stuck in the crossfire.
Water lapped from under the damaged door of the men's restroom, and Sam plowed through, Tucker at her heels.
The ugly dinosaur ghost, contorted in the cramped space and lying prone in shattered pieces of countertop and sink, was currently being sucked into the Fenton Thermos. Phantom's injured arm, oozing ectoplasm, hung limply at his side, and he quaked as he knelt on the flooded bathroom floor.
When the ghost was properly taken care of, the Thermos slipped from Phantom's hand, and he toppled over. The water beneath him was becoming tinted with green.
"Shit," Sam murmured, eyes dancing between Phantom and the destruction from the threshold. "Shit, shit, shit. Holy shit."
He was a ghost. Surely he'd be getting up anytime now? Laughing cockily and darting away? Like he always did? Surely he…
"Sam," Tucker said, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her so that she faced him. His face was pale, but his voice didn't tremble. "Go check on Phantom. I'm going to see if Danny's in one of the stalls." She certainly hoped he wasn't there. The stalls were collapsed on top of one another. "And call his cell," Tucker added.
"Okay," Sam agreed, nodding her head and taking a deep breath. Panicking will do you no good, Sam. Pull it together, she coached herself. "Alright. Okay."
She rushed to Phantom, and taking care not to jostle him too badly, she turned him onto his back so that she could better survey his injuries.
Her breath caught, and she had to close her eyes for a moment. Three long scratches sliced down his torso, and his upper arm was a shredded mess of flesh. Superficial wounds, burns, and bruises colored skin, too, but those could wait. If she had looked closer, she would have noticed that they were already healing by themselves.
He was unconscious. He was bleeding.
Ensure the scene is safe, she had learned. Make sure you or the victim is in no danger before you begin evaluating the need for rescue breathing or CPR.
Sam tore off a few layers of clothing, hoping to use them to stem the flow of ectoplasm, and shivering in her camisole, she began to apply pressure to the wounds on his chest.
"Danny's not in here," Tuck said, coming up beside her, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Not answering his cell either. He must be outside, with everyone else. I'll try again in a few minutes."
Her relief immediately soured to worry, and she nodded absently.
Now closer to Phantom, Tucker winced. Without being told, he took over so that she could have her hands free to wrap her shirt around the bleeding bicep wound. "He's in bad shape," Tuck whispered, eyes fixated on the ghost. "What do we do? He's a ghost. He shouldn't be..."
Sam finished tying off the shirt, and without thinking, she jostled Phantom, hoping to receive some response. When there was none, she lowered her ear to his lips and pressed her green-stained fingers against his cold jugular, as she was trained to do in her CPR certification class.
And withdrew her hand as though electrocuted and sat bolt upright. "Oh my God."
"What!?" Tucker demanded.
"He has a heart beat," she breathed. And he's breathing. He's…a ghost. He's supposed to be a ghost. Ghosts don't… "He's…"
He can die.
An overwhelming feeling of dread settled into her stomach, and with a pounding heart and trembling fingers, she turned his head, brushing his soaked bangs from his eyes.
This was the closest she'd ever been to Phantom. He never stayed still long enough for anyone to get close to him, even when saving someone's ass from a falling piece of concrete. Sure, that hadn't stopped the piranhas of the school from lusting after him, from cooing about his good looks and gallantry, and from spinning elaborate fantasies about him. She couldn't help but notice that some of what they said was true. He was cute. Boyish, almost elfin, not quite grown into his face just yet. There spoke promise of a strong jaw, which was off-set by the subtle splatter of the freckles strewed across his nose and cheekbones. In fact, without the glow and white hair…
Recognition hit Sam all at once, and her heart stopped.
"Call the Fentons," Sam ordered immediately.
Her urgency and the tinge of hilarity in her voice warranted no protest or questions, and after Tuck and Sam exchanged spots again, she stared at Danny's face on Phantom's body and pressed harder on the wounds. Her jacket was soaked through with his… "You idiot," she muttered, unable to believe it. "You… You fucking idiot, Danny."
She only barely heard Tucker talking to the Fentons and did not care to hide her tears when he hung up and told her they were already on the way.
"Sam?" he asked. "Wha—?"
Beneath Sam's hands, Danny Phantom's aura dimmed and then flared. In her shock, she nearly leapt away. Tucker's grip on her arm steadied her, and together, they watched in horrified fascination as Danny Fenton was revealed to him.
Green became red.
~…~
The comforting blanket of sleep slowly rose. Half-awake, Danny inhaled and sighed contentedly. It wasn't often he woke up like this, and he felt every bit ready to fall back asleep. Nothing could stop him. It was the weekend, right? It wasn't as though he had to anywhere to be or anything to…
Memories crashed into him, and he jolted upward, eyes shooting open. His fast movement was abruptly halted when a slash of burning pain ripped through his torso and left arm. Grimacing and restraining a hiss, Danny drew his good arm across his chest in order to brace himself against the whiplash.
Gentle hands pressed against his right shoulder. "Easy, Danny."
"S—Sam?" Danny croaked, peering up at her and realizing for the first time that he was no longer fighting a ghost in the Nasty Burger.
"Here," Sam said. Through pain-induced tears, he saw her maneuver his pillows so that he could sit up, and Tucker—what? Tucker was here too?—handed him a glass of water, which was gratefully accepted by a parched Danny.
He sipped at the water, trying to make sense of what happened. Sam was there, Tucker was there…he was in his bedroom. In his bed. He looked down at himself and caught sight of white bandages crisscrossing across his shirtless torso. That was his mom's work.
But the Nasty Burger…the ghost…
Danny's stomach dropped out from under him, and the cup of water began to slip from his frozen fingers. Sam, standing close by, took it from him before he could spill water all over himself.
"You alright, dude?" Tuck asked. "How're you feeling? We, um—I mean, your parents…were almost ninety-nine-percent sure you wouldn't be up until they got back. They had to get some…things. For you." He was rambling now.
Danny knew they were running low on medical supplies, so the news didn't surprise him. When they got back, he was probably going to get another teary-eyed talk about why he should stop doing this, why he should hold off on these solo missions, at least until he was stronger. Better with his powers. More well-trained.
He should have called them immediately.
He closed his eyes. They were probably beating themselves up again, and that hurt more than his injuries did.
Tucker shuffled when Danny didn't respond, and Sam added softly, "They left some meds here."
His gaze flickered to his nightstand and recognized the usual assortment of ghost-friendly vitamins and painkillers. He'd have to take the former sometime and would probably get in trouble for not doing so right away, but he could hardly swallow. Danny shook his head, refusing to look them in the eye. His lungs constricted with fear, and his heart raced. "No, no, I'm fine."
There was a heartbeat of silence, and Danny continued to gather his scrambled thoughts. If his parents were okay with leaving him home with Sam and Tucker, he must not be too badly hurt. They trusted Sam and Tuck, and he must be healing well. It was exhaustion more than anything that made him pass out, he supposed, recalling hazy images of the fight at the Nasty Burger.
But that meant…
He couldn't avoid them any longer. The bed dipped under their combined weight as they sat beside him, and when Sam placed her hand on his shoulder, he released a shaky sigh and looked up to meet her violet eyes.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
Danny inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. They saw. They know. The fingers in his lap fluttered and picked at his blanket as he stammered, "I—ah, I suppose…I guess this means…You…you guys…"
"Danny, it's okay," Sam said gently.
Danny snorted. "I'm not sure how me being…" He grimaced and swallowed over the lump in his throat. He didn't think this moment would come so soon. He wasn't ready…he lied to them, he hid from them…he was scared of them, scared for them, and he wasn't ready to deal with this. Dropping his eyes and shaking his head, he muttered, "It's really not okay. It isn't okay, Sam."
"But you're okay," Tuck corrected. "Your parents explained some things to us."
Sam nodded. "And we're okay, too."
A little weight was chiseled off his shoulders, and when he exhaled a laugh of relief, Sam took it as an opportunity to ask again, "Why didn't you tell us?"
The truth, she said without words, so even though he felt as pathetic as shit, he gave it to her. "I…I didn't know how to."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam and Tucker exchange a glance. "Danny…"
"Guys." Danny raised his head, bitterness leaking into his voice. God, he was weak. Spineless. "I am a half-dead freak who can morph into his own ghost. Maybe it's more than that. We don't even know what happened to me yet. How could I possibly bring this up in conversation?"
"You could do it just like that," Tucker deadpanned. "Without warning. That's typically how most weird conversations about your family and ghosts start off."
Danny stared at Tucker's serious face for a moment, and he could not help but begin to laugh, almost hysterically so. Tucker, of course, cracked a smug grin and began laughing right along with him. Sam, for her part, smiled, looking more relieved than amused.
"Seriously, though, dude," Tucker said, eyes dancing. "Did you really think we'd not be okay with this?"
Danny stopped laughing and said seriously, "It's pretty fucked up, Tuck. I didn't…I don't know."
"We're your friends, Danny," Sam said. "Best friends. We saw Phan—you in the bathroom at the Nasty Burger, after you passed out. You were still Phantom at that point, and we started to put pressure on your wounds, and when I…recognized you…and when you changed back…all we cared about was that you were bleeding and hurt. We didn't care that you were a ghost one moment and then human the next. You were you, and you really scared us."
Her passionate confession allowed the dam to crack. "At first," Danny admitted, "it…it wasn't easy to be around me. It wasn't…exactly safe. I didn't know how to control it, and I burned my parents and Jazz a few times by accident, and I think I became…terrified. Of what I could do. Then ghosts started coming out of the Portal I activated, and I found myself fighting one off one day because I could, and it was even more dangerous. Don't you see? I just…it was harder and harder to come clean and say it: that I'm not...I'm not human anymore, that I'm not the same, and I never will be. It was easier to make excuses."
"You were worried about us," Tucker stated.
Danny's lips twitched, and he glanced between his two friends. "My parents are training me, and if I want to keep using my powers this way, they want me to continue training until I can fight without getting hurt, but I can't just...do that. Not when I can help. No matter what happens, no matter how much control or strength I get, what I do as Phantom…it isn't safe."
Sam quirked a brow and looked down at his bandaged chest. "Obviously." Her expression sobered, and without reservation, she took one of his hands. His heart fluttered, and he couldn't help but smile brilliantly when she gestured between the three of them and asked, "Does it look like that's stopping us?"
