I have given up. Final exams, guys, final exams. They all deserve a violent, ugly death. So watch as I whittle away my precious studying time in order to give you guys a new chapter! Also, my "G" key on my keyboard is officially broken. I have dramatically chucked it out of the window, because I am fifty shades of done.

And WOW, I am so overwhelmed by all the support from you guys! Thank you so much! So close to twenty reviews! But I BELIEVE THAT WE CAN DO IT

Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter 10

That night was the longest night of Stanley's life.

The hospital he rushed Danny to was nearly an hour away from the small, quaint town. Stan drove as fast as he could, praying under his breath and trying to put aside the fact that he had trapped his twin in an alternate dimension. He would handle that issue later – he had more urgent things to worry about at the moment.

However, Danny seemed to recover somewhat after they left the perimeter of Stanford's house; probably a side effect of regaining his ghost powers. Still, the halfa hadn't woken up, and he was Stan's best chance of bringing his twin back.

Not to mention his best friend, a best friend that was bleeding out in the passenger seat of the car –

He let out a shuddering breath after Danny had been rushed to an emergency room, and melted into the hard, cold plastic seats in the hospital's waiting room. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes and buried his face into his trembling hands. He could still hear Ford's cry for help ringing in his ears, and the feeling of helplessness seemed to seep into every bone in his body. What if Danny never woke up? Would Ford be okay?

He knew Ford would blame him for everything. He had heard it out of his twin's own mouth, accusing and saying he ruined his own life –

But would Danny do the same? If he even managed to pull through the surgery?

"Samuel Oak?" a doctor asked after an hour of waiting by the emergency room. Anxiously, Stan raised his head, and the doctor seemed to cringe at the devastated look on the conman's face. "Your friend, Daniel…"

"Yeah?" Stan asked, straightening and leaning forward with worry. His throat clogged up. If anything happened to Danny – he couldn't bear to finish the thought. He'd already lost someone important to him tonight; he couldn't stand to lose another.

"Your friend is recovering well. Actually, better than most. It's almost like he has some sort of superhero accelerated healing thing," the doctor reassured Stan with a grin, and the conman let out an explosive, relieved sigh, slumping in his seat. "Of course, as if that can happen, right?" the doctor laughed obliviously. He pulled up his clipboard tapped at a number circled in black, before he gave Stan a comforting smile. "It's okay to visit him – he's already awake and asking for you. He'll be upstairs, in room 322."

Stan nodded mutely, and dragged himself over to the recovery room. He stood in the doorway for a long moment, staring at Danny's lean frame and more specifically, the clean bandages covering his forehead. The heart monitor attached to the halfa's pulse beeped slowly, rhythmically, and the sound instantly began to ease Stan's frazzled nerves.

Gently, he knocked on the doorframe.

Blue eyes opened, and creased in a soft smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Stan responded automatically, not sure how else to answer. He cleared his throat roughly, and scratched at the back of his head. "Uh, so about earlier –"

"Stanley." At the quiet mention of his name, Stan clammed up. Danny was no longer smiling, but he sat up and scooted to the edge of his bed. Stan's eyes widened when his friend made to stand.

"Hey, hey, hey – Danny, wait – you should –" Stan protested, and hurried over to the halfa's side. However, when he reached the half-ghost, he was yanked into a firm hug.

"Don't worry about me," Danny murmured softly into his ear. "We'll get him back."

Stan froze, before his shoulders began to shake.

It was as if a dam had been opened in his chest, had worn down to its breaking point. Tears began to gather into the corner of his eyes, and his breath hitched.

Finally, after hours of stress and worry, it was all beginning to crash down on him, the reality of their situation. Danny looked grim, but comforting and supporting all the same. And his quiet promise had finally brought Ford's predicament back to the forefront of Stan's mind, and the pain of the burn on his shoulder a stark reminder of how much he – Stanley – had failed that night.

With a shudder, Stan pressed his forehead against Danny's shoulder, and began to let it out.

And so, in the middle of the night, at a hospital in the middle of Oregon, Stanley Filman Pines broke down and began to cry.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into Danny's side. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean any of it –"

"It's okay, we'll get him back, it's okay," Danny soothed. And unbeknownst to Stan, his eyes flashed green for a moment.

"I swear it."

So anyone catch the reference in the chapter? Because it's taken over my life recently. Seriously, it arrived in the mail just before my first final, which was SO AGONIZING

Also, friendly reminder to see if we can hit that 20-review mark! So close! Nineteen, guys, nineteen!

Posted and Edited: 12/2/2016, 3:31 PM