"I'm gonna need you to take off your shirt," Sam requested gingerly as she walked into her room with some towels and a first aid kit. She saw him slumping over her bed his legs dangling off haphazardly, generally he looked like hell. She thanked the lack of parental control in her household because she knew she'd never be able to explain why there was a bleeding beaten boy in her room.
Danny complied with a shrug; it had never been awkward for him to have to adhere to request like that. He had after all spent a good amount of his teenage years being examined by countless doctors and nurses in endless procedures. She bit her lip looking at the damage that was already beginning to show. Dark bruises and different sized gashes were apparent and they looked painful. She then looked to his jeans and noticed blood was starting to seep through on his upper leg.
"Um Danny...you're going to need to take off...erm your pants," she added with a nervous blush.
He looked at her with a quirked eyebrow obviously finding the same nervous amusement from the request. He blushed a little as he tugged them off but was grateful that mankind had the glorious invention of boxers. It was strange and a little chilly for him to be sitting shirtless and pantless on Sam Manson's bed. He wondered how many other boys dreamed for this moment, Sam was very attractive and something told him she got attention at school.
He inwardly winced at the idea of other guys putting their hands on her. Suddenly images of a number of boys sitting in the same position flashed through his head making his stomach recoil. He shook his head as she came closer he had to sort these thoughts in his head. He wasn't sure if he was over-protective because she was like his sister or if he was just experiencing jealousy. He'd be a fool to think she was his alone and even more so to fall for her, he tried to recall the way he felt when she broke his heart. If he could just hold onto that maybe he could repel her.
"Are you alright?" she whispered bringing him back to reality; he hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes or that she'd been dabbing his wounds with a damp cloth. "I feel like I'm hurting you."
"Nonsense," Danny said waving and noticed just how bad his hands were shaking, "it would hurt either way."
She bit her lip and examined him further. "I don't know anything past first aid really. I can't even be sure I'm treating some of these wounds correctly. My grandmother only ever taught me simple patch up routines, cauterizing at the worst. I don't really want to stitch you..."
Danny looked at what she'd been looking at so doubtfully. There were towels pressed against the side of his abdomen but not covering the large gash. He grimaced remembering the way the wood had splintered around his body, jabbing into his side; he gritted his teeth and hissed. It was as if it were happening again and the pain was overwhelming. Sam promptly apologized but just before his vision lingered out he could see she had a piece of wood between her fingers.
His head got heavy and he fell backwards with a pained moan. Sam acted immediately and leaned over him gripping his shoulders to give him a gentle shake. "Danny," she called the panic ebbing into her voice, "Danny, come on open your eyes. You gotta stay with me." She became more frantic when he seemed almost unresponsive. She gave him another shake and stared at him her body tensed with fear and anticipation.
His hand shot up and took a hold of her wrist. "Please warn me before you do something like that," he said forcefully with his eyes still closed.
She let loose a heavy sigh and a weary smile found its way on her face. "I'm sorry," she offered now alleviated to see half lidded blue eyes staring up at her coupled with a faint smile. "Here let's get you more comfortable."
Sam carefully helped move Danny and the bundles of towels she'd positioned under his more serious injuries to her the center of her bed. She made sure his head was propped up under her two pillows and he was rested in a comfortable position. She quickly returned to her work and nimbly bandaged him up deciding against attempting to stitch up anything, knowing well he'd never be able to stand the pain.
"You don't have to fuss," he mumbled while laying straight and limp with his eyes closed.
She pursed her lips as she sat beside him collecting the towels and rested them on her lap. "I do you know," the violet eyed girl stated proudly.
"You know, Spiderman made this look easy," he groggily mused. "I'm glad you're here Sam, I don't think Mary Jane could've done better in handling this."
She smiled at him sadly. "I still think you should talk to Jazz about this. I'm happy to be there for you Danny but this may be too dangerous to keep from her, she's your sister and-"
"I couldn't take it if she never accepted me for what I am. She may not even see me as her brother any more. She's all I've ever had in the world..." he sounded so far off, barely coherent, she knew he was speaking from his soul.
The eccentric girl hated to have a serious conversation with him when he wasn't composed but she knew the matter was too serious to wait. He was vulnerable now and she was getting the raw truth and it was tough to swallow. Danny may fight a hero's battle but he wasn't indestructible and he wasn't limitless. He was weak just like everyone else but he just knew how to hide it in the heat of a battle.
"My own parents Sam...they can't stand the sight of me, they abandoned me. Jazz stuck by but how could she if she saw what I really am, what I've always been. The world will never accept me and Jazz can only be stretched so far..."
"Danny that's not true, why would she give up? I didn't, I know you Danny and I know that no matter what you look like or do you're a good person with the best intentions. I think she'd be just as proud."
"I'm afraid of everything," he groaned and his head lulled over not even realizing how he struck Sam with his honesty.
Sam sighed, defeated, and ran her fingers through his hair. Like it or not he'd taken on a responsibility and an identity that held all the weight of the world on his shoulders. He'd taken a stake in the world where he had very little to gain and everything to lose. While she watched him sleep she realized the matter was final, he'd never tell anyone else. Out of respect for his wishes Sam made her own personal vow, he'd protect the lives of many and she'd protect his. She'd take it all to her grave if she had to, knowing that was just what he intended to do. It was the least she could do because he was looking out for everyone but number one.
When Danny finally woke up he was treated to the unmistakable grating sound of muffled sobs. He rubbed his head in groggy confusion and realized he was still in Sam's room and it was late; Jazz was going to kill him. He sat off the edge of the bed but didn't see the girl who he could hear crying distinctly. Wondering what was troubling her he wandered toward the sound, hardly even feeling any pain from the injuries from the rather violent ghost fight. He found her sitting disheveled on the floor of her private bathroom, surrounded by bloodied towels. The sink was reddened with the blood from her hands.
"Sam?" he asked cautiously wondering if letting her play nurse was a good idea; maybe she couldn't handle it.
Her response was a wide-eyed stare and a sudden yelp. All the tears seemed to dry up and her face was starched white. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," he stated ironically, giving her a smile.
She pointed a shaking finger at him and shook her head. "No, no, no, you were dead. You were dead."
"Well yeah, that's kinda been established a while ago," Danny said giving her a confused look; was she mocking him? He couldn't for the life of him grasp what her problem was. Regardless, he walked over to her and joined her on the floor. "Seriously Sam, you're freaking me out."
"I'm freaking you out? You weren't ghost dead, you were Danny Fenton dead," she explained taking a calming breath and dropping her hands between her knees. "I tried everything to get you to wake up...you just wouldn't wake up."
"I guess I was tired." She turned her head to stare at him wide-eyed and in disbelief. "Look, Sam I'm fine and most definitely not Danny Fenton dead."
"Well you were," she argued firmly while crossing her arms. "I know you were but I can't prove it." Danny sighed reproachfully and let his hand dust over the rather large bandage on his side. He winced at the memory of being thrown into those wooden crates and then rested his hand over it.
"Does it hurt?" Sam asked softly having been watching him warily.
Danny patted his head and shook his head with wide blue eyes. "No, not at all," Danny answered as a wave of realization washed over him. "In fact I feel great."
She cupped her hands loosely and raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding."
He shrugged and shook his head again. Furrowing her brow Sam leaned over him and slowly began to loosen the bandaging to inspect what she distinctly remembered to be a rather brutal gash. She clearly recalled thinking it had been the injury that had killed him; it had to have been three or four inches deep. They both looked in amazement to see that the wound was almost just a scar now, as if he had gotten it weeks ago. Sam nimbly brushed her fingers over the smoothed over skin, unable to grasp that only three hours ago it had been bleeding at an alarming rate. Holding her hand on his side she silently met eyes with him to find that he shared her look of surprise; impulsively she wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him as though her life and his depended on it.
Danny returned her hug with a loose arm around her back until he felt her shake; quickly he gathered his strength and locked her tightly in his arms. "Don't worry about it," he said gently. "Just think of this as a new ghost thing, it's not so bad Sam, it's not."
"This is too real," she murmured.
"It's not that bad, really." He hoped she believed him because at least it would make one of them.
xxxx
All Danny could think to do was slam his head repeatedly into the wall, he didn't but he wanted to. He had just received a frantic call from Sam begging him to come help, telling him there was a ghost, but he was uneasy about responding. The ghost attack was happening at the high school and suddenly he was wracked with anxiety. Sure the kids and teachers wouldn't know he was Danny Fenton but he'd still have to face them and save them; the very same people that had spread ugly rumors and told false stories until Danny Fenton was believed dead. He really hated when people thought he was dead.
He kept telling himself he was ready to go back to society but he was starting to realize that he may not be able to. He had changed so much and had missed so much. Connecting to people wasn't something he did well and now that he had even more to hide it would be incredibly difficult to make friends, or even acquaintances. How could he face any of them? He was so far from being like them, he'd missed everything.
His flight to the school was agonizing. He kept oscillating between his need to protect Sam and his fear of the public. People scared him, they were capable of great compassion and, as he learned in the past few years, great brutality. When he reached the looming building he hesitated at entering and watched as students flocked out screaming for help. No one had come, at least not yet. Danny zipped past them and went through the double doors in search of whatever had caused the terror.
He found Sam first; she was standing against a side wall in attempt to avoid being trampled by the panicking students. "Danny," she called sharply motioning for him to come over. "It's in the lunch room."
"Brave New World! Miss Manson, run!" a teacher cried seeing a dangerous being hovering over the student.
"Was that Mr. Lancer?" Danny returned looking at his violet eyed friend.
A faltering smile appeared on her face. "I gotta run, they can't think we're connected. Just go to the lunch room, trust me you'll find the ghost."
Danny heard a loud bang and the two recoiled. "I could've guessed." Sam broke away from him disappearing into the crowd barely able to give him a last reassuring glance.
As Danny continued his flight over the throngs of students acting like a herd of crazed beasts he began to hear them take notice of him. Some screamed louder others started passing names along through the crowd. Danny was aware his ghost half had not been exactly off the radar. The town of Amity Park recognized him as one of the many "attacking" ghosts. He really hated that.
"Hey is that Inviso-Bill?" some cried as he made his way past the fleeing students.
"What the-" Distracted by the idiotic name he missed the flying fist made of meat that slammed him down the hallway. Danny struggled out of the meat pile and nearly vomited to find that the meat wasn't ghostly. "Good thing Sam left," he mused, "'cause even I think this is gross."
"Oh dear, are you alright?" a sweet saccharine voice questioned.
Danny looked up and rubbed his arm for effect as he met eyes with an overweight ghost that was dressed to work the lunch line at any school. Her pale pink lips were pursed in a half-smiled as she gazed at him with concerned spectral eyes. He sniffed for a moment and immediately got a terrible feeling in his stomach. Every ghostly instinct he had was telling him that though she appeared friendly now she was surrounded by her own malcontent energy. For a moment his more rational human mind battled with his feral ghost urges. The ghost in him wanted to attack without formulating a single plan but the human in him told him to counter her carefully, gauge her reactions and go from there. Maybe this didn't need to be violent.
"I think so," he responded firmly hiding his own violent urges with his calm voice.
Her features seemed to soften for a moment but then suddenly her face fell and regressed into a twisted scowl. "Too bad because you're well being isn't on my menu of doom!" she cried viciously as all the meat that had been in a pile on the ground lifted into the air and swirled around them in a maelstrom of beef.
The ghost boy quirked an eyebrow in amusement and shock; was she serious? Were all ghosts this...eccentric? He had come here expecting a serious battle that could very well mean life or death. But it seemed here that this melodramatic ghost was, at her worst, only going to chuck meat at him. Sure he'd be grossed out and would probably need to shower excessively but this was hardly a fight, at least the kind he was looking for. Maybe this whole paranormal thing wasn't so bad after all; at least it was worth a few laughs.
Danny blasted her backwards and the ghostly lunch lady retorted with a slab of mystery meat that nearly slapped into his face. Intangibility was a good defense against her though. In the brunt of the battle, wherein Danny was now making a game out of dodging the various cuts of meats something metallic clanged into his skull.
"Oops, sorry," he heard a meek girl call.
He turned his green eyes on the voice and saw Sam crouching in the corner of the hallway. She waved at him nervously with a big awkward smile on her face; obviously she had poor aim. He looked to the floor while shaking his head and saw the Fenton Thermos lying on the linoleum between a beef patty and a pork chop.
"Danny, look out!" Sam called.
Too late a mountain of ghostly driven meat slammed him into a wall, the ghostly lunch lady laughed. Sam raced forward and grabbed the thermos she'd originally tried to give to him. Had she aimed better she probably wouldn't have distracted him like that and he probably wouldn't be pinned to the wall. Uncapping it she aimed it at the ghost and pressed the small button.
Danny darted out of the way lest they repeat their previous mistake, that is to say mistakes, of trapping him in the thermos. With a feigned sigh the half-ghost landed near her. "Shouldn't you be running from the spooky ghost?"
She smiled to see he wasn't angry with her. "Heh, I ain't afraid of no ghosts," Sam returned in amusement and gave the thermos a shake. He landed beside her and smiled in politeness; that joke wasn't very funny but he wasn't going to rob her of the opportunity to use it. "You okay?" she asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I could use a shower but yeah I'm alright."
"Then you should probably get back, you know before you start to reek." She held her nose in feigned disgust but when he didn't seem to want to play along she gave up the charade. "Danny, everything okay?"
He looked around the still empty hallways, now littered with various meat bi-products, and gave a nod. "Yeah, just...it hasn't changed at all."
Sam shifted on one foot and then the other, wrapping her left arm around her arm to grip the right one. She knew he hadn't set foot in a school since he was a freshman and she knew that didn't settle right with him. He didn't like things that reminded him of what he missed out on and he especially didn't like things that reminded him that he was different. Sure, he wanted to come back to school for his senior year but he knew the dynamics would be difficult to conform to. "What did you expect?"
Danny blinked suddenly, pulled from his thoughts. He guessed it wouldn't be truthful if he said he'd expected the school to have fallen in some way without him. He knew that it didn't matter the school whether or not he was there. "Nothing, I guess."
"Sam? Miss. Manson, Lord of the Flies, can you hear me?"
Sam gritted her teeth and sent a fearful expression to Danny. Lancer was looking for her, he probably thought something terrible had happened. As for Sam, it did matter if she was there and it especially mattered that she was accounted for. Danny shook his head, his white hair falling over the spectral green eyes he still wasn't ready to call his own. "I better go," Danny said softly.
Sorry guys for the hiatus on this, I had some revisioning to do just because I felt it necessary, it probably wasn't. Also I've been really busy and trying to actually focus on my art for a while, I kept saying I'd stop drafting so many damn comics and actually start one. That hasn't happened yet, art school is gonna be a killer next year but I promise I'll always write. Again sorry for the wait, feel free to yell mean things at me.