I'm back! Wow. I didn't know people would be so ... intrigued by my story. Well, I still don't know where this story is heading, but from reading the first chapter, you guys can pretty much get an idea. Hopefully.

Sorry for all the blood in the last chapter, but at least I didn't describe how Sam's wound looked like. That is ... unless you want me to go back and do so ...

Disclaimer: I own this story, its plot, Dr. Roberts, and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do not own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.

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Aka-Nami

CHAPTER TWO: NI

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He had come rushing into the hospital at 2:37 AM.

He stood seething for a good quarter of an hour before one courageous nurse approached him.

His and Sam's parents had been phoned at 2:58 AM.

Panicked and/or sobbing, said parents had arrived at 3:21AM.

They had begun questioning him in vain almost at the exact the moment they walked into the waiting room. The interrogation had lasted for about 7 minutes until both sets of parents realized he wasn't in any shape to be answering them.

All the paperwork for Sam was finished at 3:34 AM.

And it was 3:35 AM when a Hispanic female doctor came walking out of the emergency room.

It was hard to tell what age she was with her hairnet and hospital scrubs, but she obviously had been around long enough not to be phased by the chaos ensuing around the emergency waiting room. Neither Danny nor the adults seemed to take notice of her until she had called out to the Mansons. Within the blink of an eye, the Mansons were hounding the poor medical master.

Dr. Roberts took a deep breath and began her speech of Sam's condition at 3:44 AM, directed at the Mansons for the most part.

"I'm guessing from the questions, none of you adults have a clue of what happened. And since the young boy here is still in shock, we can't ask him of what went on. So I'll tell you of what my colleagues and I have obtained from her injuries.

"There is a deep gash in Samantha's abdomen, cutting through some muscle tissue. The cut itself isn't too deep, but slightly serious because of blood flow. It seems that she was struck a second time in the same area, though cutting up and under the rib cage on her left. This cut is more urgent since this blow punctured her left lung. Luckily, the tissue hasn't healed together yet, so we've managed to save the lung and are just finishing draining the fluid from it. Within time, the lung will operate normally. ((1))

"The good news is that no other vital organs were damaged. However, there is a rusted and jagged piece of metal resting dangerously close to a central artery. We can't leave this shard inside of her for obvious reasons and are currently trying to remove it before it infects the surrounding tissue." She cleared her throat and gazed into each pair of eyes that were filled with concern for Miss Manson at 3:49 AM.

"For the time being, you can ... stay here if you like until further news on her condition." Dr. Roberts' eyes came to rest on Danny's disheveled demeanor before coming back to the Fentons (minus Jazz), who kept their eyes on Danny.

"Your son seems physically fine; he's just in shock. It would be best if you took him home--"

"I'm not leaving." All eyes turned to Danny. He was sitting with his back hunched over, elbows resting on his knees and his hands interlaced in front of him. His head was hung low and he was staring accusingly at the white tile floor beneath him.

Maddie walked over to him, taking an empty seat beside him. "C'mon, sweetheart. There isn't anything we can do for her. Let's just let the doctors do their work and go home--"

His head shot up and he glared daggers at his mother, overwhelmed by anger he was not known of harboring. "I'm not leaving her!"

Sighing with a sort of sympathy, Maddie looked up at Jack for confirmation. The middle-aged ghost hunter averted his gave from his wife with a shrug, not knowing what else do. Maddie looked over at Dr. Roberts.

"We'll be staying just for a bit longer ... At least until we know Sam's pulled through."

Dr. Roberts nodded firmly before making eye contact with the Mansons again. "I'll permit their stay if you're alright with this." Mr. Manson, who looked more like your typical overly stressed father instead of the bright and cheery man that he was, gave a curt nod. Mrs. Manson stifled a sob and looked at Danny and his parents with gratitude through blood-shot eyes. With one last glimpse over the quintet, Dr. Roberts returned to the emergency room.

It was 4:10 AM when all affected parties in the waiting room heard the echo of footsteps grow faint.

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The clock read 5:42 and from what Danny could tell, it was still early morn. He had been immobile ever since he laid eyes on the face of the clock, watching the second hand tick away in circles.

Before the clock had taken his full attention, he had surveyed the waiting room. As to be expected for being located right beside the emergency room, the area was somewhat crowded and full of tension. Nurses were bustling around pushing gerties and wheelchairs. There were pregnant women going into labor, elderly folk that broke some brittle body part, OD victims being dragged in by people that cared, and whoever needed immediate medical attention.

Maddie was comforting a sniffling Mrs. Manson two chairs away from him on his left. Mr. Manson and Jack (who was uncharacteristically not talking about ghosts) were pacing the floor in front of him. Were it not the wee hours of the day, he was certain that the area would've been fully packed with people.

A wisp of blue smoke would rise from Danny's slightly parted lips every now and then, but he forced himself not to think about it. There were no dangerous ghosts in a hospital and Sam wasn't dead, he wouldn't believe any theory countering those thoughts. However, the latter of the two beliefs was hard to accomplish as images of Sam's bloodied prone figure flashed in his mind's eye, making him squirm with each exhale of his ghostly breath. He didn't give his mind time to wander when the forty-eighth curl of blue smoke passed between his lips. Danny had then shut his mouth tight with his jaw set and glued his eyes to the face clock that he was now watching.

It was the sound of squeaky wheels from the emergency room's entrance hall that made a number of people (including Danny, his parents, and the Mansons) stop what he or she was doing and place their sights onto the double doors leading up to the emergency room. And every last one of those individuals hoped it wasn't an empty gertie, accompanied by a distraught doctor.

Dr. Roberts came out with a nurse, who was wheeling out an unconscious hospital-gown-clad Sam on a gertie. Danny was along side the gertie, the Mansons right beside him within seconds. Dr. Roberts pulled the trio away from Sam, allowing enough time for the nurse to get the recovering teen into the intensive care ward.

"Now listen: We were successful in removing the piece of metal out of Samantha without damaging anymore tissue or blood vessels. She will need to stay in the hospital for at least two weeks, three at most, to be discharged.

"Her left lung is still weak, so she will be hooked up to a respirator for a while. The gash will take much time to heal. If she doesn't want to reopen the wound, she will need to rest well and not push herself.

"Since Samantha has just been taken out of surgery, we cannot allow anyone to see her at the moment. The earliest anyone can visit her is later today in the afternoon during visiting hours." At 5:57 AM, sighs of relief were expelled from five sleep-deprived people. Jack patted Maddie on the shoulder, nodding towards the exit.

"There's nothing left to do now except go home." Maddie arose from her seat and said her good-byes to the Mansons. She then gingerly took Danny's hand, following Jack to the hospital exit.

The weight of Jack's words finally hit Danny as they were leaving. He was leaving Sam. She would be in the hospital alone with nothing but the presence of death around her. And just to prove this point, Danny exhaled a cold breath, colored in the faintest of blues.

Something in him snapped and he quickly tore himself loose from Maddie's gentle hold. He vaguely heard the distant call of his name as he rushed toward the intensive care ward. Two male nurses came forward, intending to stop Danny from getting any further. The young hybrid quickened his pace and let himself drop to the waxed floor. White tiles slid beneath him as friction gave way and allowed him to pass between the two nurses. In an instant, he was up and making a mad dash to the end of the room.

Bursting through the swinging double doors and into the intensive care ward, he rounded the first right turn before taking a sharp left, almost crashing into a cart full of food. With a final sprint, Danny threw himself into the last room at the far end of the hall on his left; it seemed to call out to him in an unspoken language, the same as when he took off to find Sam earlier that night. Sam was in that room; that's all he knew.

She lay there with a number of tubes running in and out of her frame. A needle was placed in her right arm, connecting to an IV of blood and another full of a clear liquid. There was a clear plastic mask covering her nose and mouth ((2)). A large tube connected the piece to a machine that gave off a strange air sucking sound. From that, he could only guess it was a respirator. Then he noticed the occasional beep and saw a monitor keeping track of her heartbeat, which was connect to her right index finger with a small device. His gaze drifted over the rest of the machines in the room, and he briefly wondered what they were there for.

Danny took a hesitant step forward and then another, followed with several more until he was right at Sam's bedside. His hand trembled slightly when it grasped around hers, then stilled as he watched the rise and fall of her chest. The simple gesture seemed struggled, despite the respirator.

She looked out of character on the hospital bed; Samantha Manson was strong and steadfast. This couldn't be the same girl who looked like the faintest wind could break her. She didn't even look like a fifteen-year-old young woman, but like some lost little girl who had been left in the mercy of soulless machines.

He didn't even notice that anyone had entered the room from behind him until he felt the gentle touch of his mother's hand.

"Danny ..." He swallowed a lump that had somehow gotten caught in his throat as well as the cold feeling that had been building in his chest.

"She looks so small ..." Surprisingly, his voice hadn't cracked when he spoke.

"Son ..." He ignored the calling of his father's voice and continued to look at Sam.

"So vulnerable ..." This time, his voice came out in a hushed tone, as if he was afraid he would waken her. A gentle squeeze came from Maddie as she pulled Danny into a hug around the shoulders from behind.

"All we can do is let her rest. We'll come back tomorrow during visiting hours. Alright?" Danny's brow creased in concentration, scrutinizing what was being said.

"But she'll be alone." He felt a large hand come to rest on his shoulder.

"It's just for a couple of hours. Besides, the nurses will be here to watch over her." What they were saying was right, she would be okay, but he still felt as if he should be staying with her. It was like he knew Sam was scared. Heck! If he had gone through whatever she did, he'd be just as terrified.

But what ability did he posses could possibly allay that fear?

After a moment of verbal silence, Danny reluctantly let go of Sam's chillingly cold hand and let his parents lead him out of the room. There was a guilty feeling sifting through his every vein, but he knew that there was nothing he could do for Sam in her current condition.

He kept his eyes in the direction of Sam's hospital room as they walked back to the waiting area. Once they went through the double doors, Danny's eyes were downcast and he didn't dare look up at the Mansons as they passed the couple. Throughout the ride home, he stared at his shoes, his mind numb and filled with images of Sam covered in her own blood on the side walk and then laying on her bed alone in that dreary hospital room. Even when Jazz had come up to him and gave him a fierce hug (despite the sight of blood on his clothes), Danny didn't look up, barely noticing her kind gesture nor returning it.

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Danny numbly peeled off his blood-dried clothes, tossing them onto the bathroom floor before stepping into the shower. After the one-sided hug, Jazz had told him to go take a hot shower to calm his nerves. He had nodded and without knowing what else to do, was now following through with the command.

As the water cascaded down onto his being, Danny kept his head down, looking at his open, upward facing palms. There were four small crescent shaped cuts on each hand from his seething earlier that night, or morning if you must. A sharp throbbing resonated from his palms when the water rushed over the broken skin, but he was too numb inside to wince. The blood on his hands was slowly being washed away.

His and Sam's blood.

His brows knitted together. Sam's blood shouldn't have been there. He should be covered in his own blood, not Sam's. He should be the one in that hospital bed with a healing lung and abdomen. After all, he was the Danny Phantom, the one every ghostly villain was after.

His hands began to tremble.

What had Sam done? Was this some twisted method of payback? Had some ghost come looking for him to find vengeance, but instead found Sam? Or was Sam simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and some bitter ghost had taken advantage of the situation?

The wall shook slightly when his right fist collided with the tiled surface of the shower wall.

No. That couldn't have happened. Sam had said so herself that the ghost that had attacked her left a message. 'Life is fleeting; you must live it without regrets.'

Talk about an obvious life lesson.

But who was to say that the message was even for him? Then why was she so urgent in telling him what the ghost said? Was there something else that Sam didn't have time to tell him? She did stop somewhat abruptly. Had the ghost been trying to get Sam alone or had tried to hit a nerve in him? If so, they had done a wonderful job.

He felt a small tremor go through his left arm as his left fist came smashing into the same wall his right had come into contact with just a moment before.

Breathing heavily, Danny kept his gaze on the floor of the shower. The water was still a water-downed red. With a shaky breath, he grabbed the bar of soap and began to scrub away the remaining blood off his body. The water went from red to an angry crimson, then to a bubbly pink before becoming white foam.

Closing his eyes, he worked the shampoo into his hair and rinsed. In all honesty, he didn't feel like washing his messed up mop, but routine was routine. However, he usually shampooed before grabbing the soap. Perhaps he was sick of the blood that seemed to cling to him like some ink stain on your favorite shirt.

He tilted his head upwards and let the showerhead pelt water at his face.

For a brief moment, he let his mind go blank. He just concentrated on the feeling of steaming water rushing over him and the sound of the running water. His eyes snapped open and he blinked a few times against the water before shutting off the shower itself. After toweling off, he noticed a set of clean clothes on the bathroom sink area and managed a small smile.

"Jazz ..." Shaking his head in light amusement, Danny changed into his pink flannel pajamas ((3)). He didn't remember leaving the bathroom or entering his dark room, but he remembered the sensation of walking.

Without even bothering to turn on the lights, he staggered to his bed and fell face first into the familiar and inviting sheets. Shockingly, sleep found Danny all too soon, but his dreams were only to be haunted by Sam's blood and her unknown ghostly attacker.

7:18 AM

((1)) I asked by physiological teacher about collapsed lungs, so the information I have should be pretty accurate now.

((2)) I know that a real respirator is either covering the whole head of the person or has a tube shoved down the person's throat to the lungs. But for the purpose of this fic, let's just say it works with a mask.

((3)) The same pink pjs he wore in 'Bitter Reunions.'

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I know what you guys are thinking: "Nothing happened in this chapter!" Well ... Besides knowing that Sam isn't going to die, at least not anytime soon. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have no clue where this story is going. Then why am I continuing? Because I have a gut feeling. Yup. A gut feeling. That and I asked you guys in the first chapter whether or not I should go on.

NOW TO THANK ALL OF YOU WHO REVIEWED! cheers Thank you lightning streak, Danni-2005, Wiggle Lizard, write!... now!, Ryo's destiny, cheerin4danny, NaruNaruChi-San, MORE!, spiritgirl09, B, Cathy! Without you guys, this story wouldn't be continuing:throws confetti:

Oh! And Ryo's destiny? All you're questions will be answered within time. In fact, why Tucker was ghost hunting with Danny so late at night will be explained in the next chapter.

PLEASE REVIEW! I NEED FEEDBACK OR I LOOSE MY MOTIVATION TO WRITE! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS, &/OR RANTS APPRECIATED!

Sakura Scout