"For the record? This is exactly what I was worried about."
Danny ignored the ghost— could it actually be his ghost?— and focused instead on navigating Amity Park's streets under the orange sodium vapor glow. Focusing on a tangible end goal was good. The mental tunnel vision stopped him from thinking too much about what had happened that night, or for that matter what he would do when he got to his destination.
"Couldn't you at least have put on something besides PJs before you ran out of the house?"
There was also the matter of how he was getting there. He had, in fact, put on his shoes before leaving. At least in the heat of the moment, he had remembered that much. Otherwise, it was just him, blue cotton pajamas, and untied Converse Oxfords, running down darkened sidewalks. It might have been funny in a way if it wasn't for the clammy sweat or his heart making its best effort to beat right out of his chest.
"I'm pretty sure this is what Jazz would call a panic attack. Or maybe just like, 'a bad idea'. Me, I say, why not call it both? You're panicking and this is a bad idea. Please, please stop and think this through!"
However, to Danny's mind, he had already done all the thinking he needed to. Concord Avenue to 11th Street. 11th for three blocks then turn left onto Arlington. Two blocks north, right on 9th Street, next left onto Park Avenue. Five houses down on the west side, throw a pebble or two at the third window on the second floor. The rest he could work out from there.
"OK, I get it. You found out that you're kind of dead. Just a bit dead, even. Like, barely a noticeable amount of dead-ness. Sure, that's a bummer, but is it worth trying to wake her up at 3:30 in the morning?"
For the first time in over 10 minutes, he fired back. 'I told her I'd talk about it before school, and that's what I'm gonna do.'
"Oh good, you can still talk. I was getting worried. So tell me this, is it really worth getting so worked up about this when Sam is 100% going to 100% kill you for this?"
Just then, Danny skidded to a stop in front of number 717. 'Don't care. I need to tell somebody that isn't you.' He counted windows, bent over to grab some pebbles, and threw one.
And then he threw another.
And another.
"Well, you tried your best. Looks like she's not waking up champ. Now, can we—"
The window opened silently, and a half-asleep Sam leaned out into the humid night air. She blinked blearily a few times, before connecting the dots and realizing that Danny Fenton was actually standing outside on the curb.
"D- Danny? What the hell are you doing out there?"
"Can we talk?"
It was either a testament to their friendship, or that Sam was far too tired to argue, but she disappeared from the window without further comment. A moment later, a rope ladder rolled out in her place.
With shaky hands, Danny clambered up and over the windowsill, before promptly collapsing on the floor. As he was catching his breath, Sam was sitting on the bed in a pair of purple flannel pants and an old Late Greats concert t-shirt. She hadn't even looked at him, being preoccupied with scribbling in the book that lay open in her lap. They were both silent for a full minute before heavy purple eyes leveled on the boy splayed across her floor.
"...Hi."
She just raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry to wake you up."
Sam looked down and her pen began moving rapidly again, in long, looping, scratchy arcs.
"What... What are you writing?"
"Journal," she stated simply, without ceasing her writing. "I'm pretty sure Danny wouldn't wake me up at 3 am unless it was important, so either this is a really weird dream and the entry won't be here when I wake up, or you need to start talking." She looked back up at him expectantly.
"Oh, right. Sorry."
"You said that already."
Danny sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees. "You wanted to know what was up with me." It was suddenly very hard to meet Sam's gaze. How the hell was he supposed to start this conversation?
"You could start at the beginning," the voice offered helpfully.
"You stay out of this!" came the grumbled response.
"...Did you seriously come here just to tell you don't want to talk about it?"
His attention snapped back to Sam. "No, no, sorry, that was addressed to... Him."
She frowned and began writing again.
Danny sighed and brought his hands up to rub at his eyes. "Sam, you're not dreaming. Please, just, let me start over... Do you remember Monday morning?"
After a moment's hesitation, she set the dream journal aside. "Sure. You nearly broke your neck and then spent half the day staring off into space."
"Yeah, well... I've been having these... Lapses, I guess you'd call them. Like, I'll be walking along, and suddenly I realize I have no idea how I got there. I'll never remember anything, either. And... They're getting worse." His heart was pounding again, although Danny suspected it had nothing to do with physical exertion. He could see Sam was fully awake now, the concern in her expression having only grown as he had spoken.
"How bad are we talking here?"
"Yesterday, or Tuesday or whatever, I walked out the front door, and next thing I know I'm standing next to you out front of the Stationary Hut. Then earlier, Wednesday, I don't even really remember waking up. I just... Appeared at school that morning."
He took a deep breath. This was the scariest one to admit to. The one he himself was still trying to wrap his head around. "And... You know when I went to the bathroom at lunch?"
"Sure. Do you not remember what you did in there? Because that wouldn't be too bad, right?" She tried to smile, but it failed horribly. The lightness of tone was buried under the obvious implications.
"No, but... I don't remember anything after that. Not until I woke up about 20 minutes ago."
Sam's jaw dropped. On the one hand, Danny felt horrible for worrying her like this, but on the other hand...
"No, talking is healthy. I mean, your timing needs work, but..."
"Again, would you shut up?"
"Danny, I didn't say anything!" It sounded like worry was about to give way to panic. Another pang of guilt hit when Danny realized he probably sounded like he was losing his mind. If he had been in Sam's position, he would have been panicking already.
"I know, I know, sorry I sound so crazy right now..."
"Will you stop apologizing? This could be really serious!"
"Right, sorr— I mean, yeah. It could. That's the other thing." He flopped back down onto the soft carpet. The soft orange glow from the window played across the stucco ceiling, leaving little trails of shadow among the peaks and valleys. It looked like a mountain range viewed from above.
"After the portal accident, I've... had a ghost."
Silence followed, punctuated only the engine of a car speeding down the empty street below. Its headlights briefly overwhelmed the streetlights and sent a patch of bright light washing over the mountains.
"...Sam, please say something."
"What... Do you mean, 'I've had a ghost'?"
Right. That could have been worded better. "I mean, there's a ghost that talks to me, and—"
"Wait, like an actual ghost? Like, a floating dead person that can go through walls? Why can't I see it?" Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her quickly glancing around the room.
"Well, it's in my head."
"You do know you sound crazy again, right?"
"You're not helping."
"Neither are you, you said that one out loud, too."
Danny bit back a curse. "Look, I know how it sounds..."
"Danny, that sounds really... Are you sure you aren't imagining it? You really got knocked around on Monday."
He took a deep breath and sat up again, holding his right arm in front of him. He wracked his brain searching for the memory of the bathroom incident, to his recollection not even half an hour beforehand. It was a buzz, he knew that much. Almost like he had been lying down on his arm. There was also the chill. Somewhere deep inside him, he knew he could still feel that... Sensation. He closed his eyes and concentrated.
Suddenly, in his mind, he could see a glint of blue. It glimmered a soft aquamarine, like the sun shining on the calming, sparkling waters at some Caribbean resort in a TV commercial. Off to the right side, there was another smaller spark; a frantic, urgent shade of peridot, flitting slightly back and forth in a frenzy. To his mind, the light felt like a cold buzz. It had to be what he was looking for...
As he reached out for it, it seemed to jump the gap, suddenly arcing into his arm.
Danny opened his eyes and saw a familiar spectral glow emanating from his palm. A small orb of swirling green flame, no bigger than a marble, gradually formed and detached from his hand, floating half an inch above it.
"Whoa. Nice work champ."
Danny couldn't help but smile.
Sam was just staring. She got off the bed wordlessly, before closing the gap between the two teens. Danny's smile vanished (and with it, the orb of light) when all she did was hold out a hand toward his face.
She poked him in the chest, and then blinked a few times, sitting down across from him. "So you're really here. And not dead."
In spite of himself, he chuckled. "Heh, yeah. I really am."
He felt a sudden warmth rush over him, causing him to shiver slightly. The energy he had felt a moment ago was now long gone, replaced by a deep tiredness.
"Oh, yeah. We kinda forgot what comes after an adrenaline rush, huh?"
His arms and legs felt like lead. Danny realized he probably wasn't going to be running home anytime soon.
"Uh, hey, Sam?"
"...yeah?"
"Would you mind if I crashed here tonight?"
"...And risk causing a scandal? Of course you can."
They shared a grin before Sam got up and moved to the closet. Reaching for the top shelf, she produced a frilly pink pillow and blanket and threw them at Danny from across the room. At his inquisitive look, she just shook her head. "Don't ask."
Even though the bedding smelled powerfully of lilacs, Danny had rarely ever slept better. The world could wait until the dawn.
Author's Note:
I am glad that reception of chapters 5 and 6 was mostly positive, even if it was a bit confusing. To answer GhostAnn's question from earlier; yes, Sam (and, spoiler warning, Tucker as well) will be finding out about the ghost.
Otherwise, there is little to report. This chapter is a bit shorter than more recent ones. It just worked out that way, I suppose. I did not want to needlessly tack on the events of the morning when I feel as though this was a good stopping point. Hopefully, you agree.
