Anybody want another chapter? Good, because we're not done yet... By the end of this, we'll be a little over halfway done. I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I know I am. «3

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom

Also, if any of you are interested, feel free to follow me on Instagram (thatblondie67).

Also, just because I'm in a super good mood, I'm going to share with you all that my town has a little flower shop and they put out a sign every day, 'if your name is... come in for a free rose.' Today was my day, so now, I have a free rose.


Danny Fenton: I turn to you. I smile when I see your hair reflecting the moonlight "Why do you want to know if I believe in God or not?"

Sam Manson: "It's just a question that popped into my head," I say nervously.

Danny Fenton: "Well, I believe in God..."

Sam Manson: "Why won't you accept that I want for you and Jazz to have the treatments so you two can live?"

Danny Fenton: "I don't accept because by doing so, you would be left behind." I look down. "Again. You seem to have been left behind a lot of times during your life. I know we're close to the end of the world but..." I chuckle coldly. "...I think we still have time to change that fact if you stay with us."

Sam Manson: "Will you please accept the treatment if I go to the other island with you and your sister," I ask?

Danny Fenton: I look back at the forest and stay silent for a moment. "Maybe."

Sam Manson: "If you won't, may Jazz," I offer, "she's the most at risk because of the initial infection, I asked you because you're also at a major risk with the gash on your arm. I should probably rewrap it..."

Danny Fenton: I look down at my arm and see the blood had begun staining the gauze. "That's a good idea. Let Jazz have the treatment when we get to the other island." I turn to you and walk closer so you can take care of my arm.

Sam Manson: "I could heal this right now, but it would sting and leave a scar," I say nervously.

Danny Fenton: I raise an eyebrow. "How?"

Sam Manson: "Styptic pencil," I say, "it's not magic or something. It was something I had to use before the disease, I don't use it often, but I have it, if you want."

Danny Fenton: "Uhmm... You said it would sting, right?" I ask nervously. "How much..?"

Sam Manson: "Less than the transplant. Only a tiny bit."

Danny Fenton: "Alright..." I walk to you and sit by your side, looking at the sea.

Sam Manson: I dip the small white chalk looking thing into the water then I unwrap your gauze. I rub the tip across the gash. "How are you feeling?"

Danny Fenton: "I'm fine." I smile. "It doesn't hurt so much."

Sam Manson: "So," I say, I try to think of questions to ask, "how did you and Jazz hear about this place?"

Danny Fenton: "News... rumors... There were people who didn't believe the severity of the disease but the all believed when it started killing people. It was a mess when we tried to get in the boat. That's why I lost Jazz back then."

Sam Manson: "Did you believe it was severe when you first heard about it," I ask. The shine of the moon brightens the purple in my eyes as I look into yours.

Danny Fenton: I stop for a moment as I lose my line of thought while staring in your eyes "I...ah... I didn't... What? What were you saying?"

Sam Manson: I place a gentle, supportive, if not semi-flirtatious hand on your shoulder and look into your deep eyes before asking in a shy, awkward by not being used to being shy, but still calm way, "When you first heard about the disease, did you think it was going to be this severe?" I smile at you, my tongue pressed to my barely visible teeth through my parted lips, not just smiling at you with my mouth, but also with my eyes, looking into yours with a sense of safety and comfort.

Danny Fenton: "Oh uhh... I don't think so... The symptoms were not so bad at first. I'm not a doctor or... anything... like it. I wouldn't... have guessed..." I say, being continuously distracted by your eyes, your mouth, and your hand on my shoulder.

Sam Manson: "Are you feeling alright," I ask, "something on your mind?"

Danny Fenton: "Ahh No. Not really..." I look away, glad because the night is covering my embarrassed blush.

Sam Manson: I bite my lip gently. "So, uh, why don't you tell me about Jazz," I suggest

Danny Fenton: "Jazz?" I glance at the entrance of the bunker where she sleeps peacefully. "What do you want to know?" I look back at you, smiling.

Sam Manson: "You said she's 11, correct?" I ask.

Danny Fenton: "Yes, she is. 13 years younger than me..." I say warmly. "It's kind of a huge gap but well... I guess if I was younger I would probably not be so ready to take care of her." I pause. "Even with all this difference, I almost lost her..." I look at the dark horizon.

Sam Manson: "You seem like you'd be a really good brother," I comment.

Danny Fenton: I look at you. "Why do you say that? I just told you I almost lost her..."

Sam Manson: "You also carried her for at least 15 miles today," I remind you.

Danny Fenton: "With a gash on my arm..." I chuckle.

Sam Manson: I look down and realize I'm still holding your hand, supporting your forearm with my other hand. "Yeah," I say, "uh... I'm just going to rewrap it as a precaution, even though it doesn't need to be wrapped because of the pencil." I wrap your arm tightly again, being careful not to hurt you.

Danny Fenton: I smile warmly at you as you wrap my arm again. "Thank you..." I whisper.

Sam Manson: "Don't thank me," I tell you, I carress your cheek with my palm, "you would do the same for me if the roles were reversed."

Danny Fenton: I keep looking in your eyes. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like if you thanked me..." I say, in a joking tone.

Sam Manson: I stick my tongue out at you kinda flirting, but enjoying the interaction and talking with you.

Danny Fenton: I chuckle and tickle you on your ribs. "Oh you like to stick your tongue out at people uh... I didn't know that..." I say, tickling you.

Sam Manson: I shreik a bit, but laugh as you tickle me, "you're a meanie!" I begin to tickle you in return, lightly, but enough.

Danny Fenton: I laugh as well. "Meanie? Do you think I'm a meanie? I'm not a meanie. I'm EVIL!" I tickle you even more, knocking you down on the sand, not hurting you.

Sam Manson: I tickle you back, but after a minute, I stop fighting it, accepting being tickled. I laugh more as the moon reflects off of my eyes, landing on yours.

Danny Fenton: When you stop fighting, I stop tickling and look down at your eyes. We're close and our breaths come out in puffs of steam in the cold night.


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Peace, Love, Phantom,
PhantomPhan67
:D :P