In Which A Friend is Officially Made
Danny clipped the Thermos back to his belt, stupid smile still unfortunately intact.
Deciding that it was safe enough for Mack, seeing as the ghostly threat—and her mother—were both gone, he turned towards the bushes where she lay hidden.
"Mack?"
There was a loud rustling followed by a soft sneeze, then a head of black hair was poking out from behind twisted branches. "Safe now, Mr. Phantom?"
He grinned despite himself, gesturing for her to join him. "All safe."
Her returning smile would've outshone the sun, had it not been an overly grey and overcast evening. "You were so cool! I saw all the way from the bush! You pulled him up into the furnace and shwack!" The girl did an improvised high kick of her own, nearly knocking herself flat.
He briefly considered telling her that it was a Thermos, not a furnace, but decided to save that conversation for another time.
"Thanks." He bent down to her level, kneeling as he caught her stare with his own, "You were pretty cool too, you know."
She waved his sentiment away, cherub cheeks tinted red. Then she frowned, face morphing into a surprisingly serious countenance, "Are you…going to tell my momma that you're Mr. Phantom?"
The halfa sighed, running a hand through silver hair as he tried to find the words for what he was feeling. "Mack, I haven't known your mother for very long—only a few days, really—but I…" He trailed off, not entirely sure what he was even saying.
It wasn't that he didn't want Sam to know, per se, it was more just that he didn't want her to look at him differently. To look at him the way Tucker did; with poorly concealed concern. Or the way some of Amity looked at him, like he was a menace. A thing to be feared.
Sam would never be that shallow, he knew that already. But something ugly boiled in his chest and sent his gut into complicated, anxious knots at the mere thought.
Illogical as it may be Danny couldn't handle a 'look' from her. He couldn't.
So he wouldn't risk it, not yet.
"It's okay," Mack patted his knee with small fingers, startling him out of his spiraling thoughts and offering a concerningly sly smile for someone her age. "I once had a crush on someone, too."
Danny wanted to die. Again. Maybe just spontaneously catch fire. Or combust. He was open to any which one, honestly.
Trying to keep a straight face, he rested his hand on his chin, then slid it back to his lap again awkwardly. Feigning nonchalance was harder than it looked. "O-oh?"
"Mhmm, Jimmy Robson." She nodded sagely, "He gave me a purple crayon when mine ran out; we were soulmates. So, I know what you're going through."
"Y-you do? And what is that?"
"You like my momma." The girl grinned, "But don't worry, I won't tell."
That's it. There was no way he was having this conversation again, especially after how horribly it'd gone with Skulker the first time.
Floundering for some sort of escape, Danny glanced down at his wrist (devoid of any actual watch) and widened his eyes, "And would you look at the time. Wow, we really should be—"
Mack patted his knee again, fixing him with that same stern glare her mother had. A glare like that should be illegal. "You like her, and you're scared that she won't like this part of you back. But, that shouldn't be your priority. You," She poked him in the chest, "need to learn to like this part of you first."
Danny blinked, then blinked again, slowly easing himself back onto his calves. He was fairly certain his mouth had popped open, but he couldn't find the willpower to close it.
Were all children this introspective?
And, more importantly, why didn't he want Sam to know? There was no logical reason, no sensical explanation for why he wanted to keep it from her.
Just that same bubbling sense of unidentifiable something. Was it a lack of trust? Stupidity? Was he just a broken human being?
Frowning, he pushed his rioting heap of tumultuous emotions aside and buried them deep, locking them back into whatever trench they'd crawled out of.
Sure, Jazz would have physically dismantled him over such an atrocious coping mechanism, but Danny didn't have the capacity for this right now. Or ever.
"I—" The halfa had to clear his throat when the word came out jumbled, starting his verbal word-vomit from the top. "I don't think I'm ready to tell her yet. I swear I will, just not…I think I just…but if you need me to, I will. If you don't want to keep it a secret from her—if you can't—I can tell her tonight."
Danny met her eyes, seeing his own green glow reflected in her pupils. He'd expected her to be angry, maybe sad. Instead, there was a flickering smile on her face.
He had to remind himself not expect the expected with these Mansons. They seemed to have made it their personal mission to surprise him.
"I don't mind at all, Mr. Phantom." She opened her arms and he obliged her willingly, pulling her small frame against the chest of his jumpsuit. "I don't think all secrets are bad, as long as you share them someday."
"When did you get all wise on me?"
She rolled her eyes as if that was the stupidest question she'd ever faced in her nine-years of existence, "Kids are super wise, Mr. Phantom. It's just that nobody ever listens."
Danny barked a laugh, glad they were leaving the subject of Danny's excruciating self reflection behind them. "You ready to go home?"
The girl held out her arms to him again, giggling when he effortlessly scooped her up off the ground.
Before he took the sky, he craned his neck to look at her, a question on his lips. "Do you want to be a psychologist when you're older?" She seemed to have a natural affinity for it.
Tiny lips tucked down into a confused frown, "No. I wanna be a piñata maker. Why?"
He felt his chest quake with another laugh, but he smothered it. "No reason."
And then they were flying, leaving the park and charred dirt behind them.
BREAK
He kept it slow, as not to scare her, but one look at her face proved she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
Touching down in the house, Danny forwent the door and instead phased them in through the roof.
The kitchen only held the slightest tang of acrid smoke, which meant the pizzas were hopefully intact.
They might be a bit singed, but still edible.
Mack practically leapt out of his arms and dashed towards the oven, hopping from shoeless foot to shoeless foot with child-true glee.
"Hold on," Danny popped the oven door open, listening to the metal groan as he did.
Had he even used the appliance in the past decade? The halfa honestly couldn't recall when he'd last had the motivation to cook anything that didn't fit in a microwave.
Once the two pies were out, however, it quickly became apparent that Danny hadn't lost his touch. Though a little overcooked, the pizzas didn't look half bad.
"Awesome," Mack whispered, standing on tiptoe with her nose level with the counter. "They look even better than the ones momma buys at the store."
"That's because they are." Danny said with no small hint of smugness, slamming the oven door shut and switching the contraption off. "These one's have the secret ingredient."
The girl's eyes widened, "And what's that?" She poked at an innocent herb and raised a brow. "Is it this green stuff?"
"Nope." Danny gave her an exaggerated wink, "It's love."
She giggled, putting a hand over her mouth as her whole body shook. "Don't be silly. That wouldn't make it taste better."
"Guess we'll just have to find out."
"But what about momma? She'll be hungry when she gets back, right?"
Danny frowned, trying to calculate where exactly the Amity Regional Hospital was in comparison to Fenton Works. "She shouldn't be too long."
"Was the lady from my school okay? She fell asleep."
"The doctors and nurses will look after her, and I could hear her heart beating when she left." He pulled out two plates, hesitating on the third.
Would Sam be back in time? Would she need a ride back from the hospital? Danny didn't even own a car. Unless the assault vehicle in the garage still worked.
Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't even have Sam's phone number.
That would have to be rectified as soon as possible.
For communicational purposes, obviously.
He caught Mack staring up at him, blue eyes wide, and came to a conclusion. "Here, how about I put some aside for when she comes home? That way it'll be all nice and ready."
The girl seemed to weigh their options for a moment before nodding, black hair bobbing, "Alright. Will you let me stay up late?"
"You have school tomorrow. No way hose-y." Danny shuddered, seeing his half life flash before his eyes, "'Sides, your mom would probably eat me if I don't get you to bed on time."
Mack giggled, grabbing her now cooled pizza and slapping it onto the plate, "She'd probably eat both of us." Then seemed to concede something, "But you first."
"Thanks," He said dryly, though a sloppy smile was still pulling at his lips.
Briefly leaving the girl alone with her pizza, he made sure Skulker was deposited back into the Zone before sitting down at the table. Hopefully the hunter had the sense not to run his mouth, but Danny wasn't overly optimistic.
By the time they'd both finished eating, the overhead kitchen light keeping the gathering darkness at bay, the weight of Phantom's secret lay long forgotten.
BREAK
She hated hospitals. In fact, Sam was pretty sure everyone hated hospitals. Except maybe doctors, but they were excused.
There was just something about the way the starch scent of too clean clung to every surface, coating even the most casual of objects in a layer of disinfectant.
Which is why Sam practically vibrated in her seat while she waited outside Star's room, people coming and going with the click of leather or heels against tile.
Overhead, the white lights gave off a faint buzz, pounding into her already spiking headache.
Hospitals were bad. The last time she'd been in a hospital was over a year ago, but she remembered it as though it'd been only yesterday.
Blood dripping from her hair—which had been much longer back then, though she wasn't sure why that specific detail was so important—and into her eyes. A frantic nurse hurriedly searching for a vein, the tick of a needle, then—
"Miss? Miss, are you alright?"
Her head was between her knees, breathes coming in sharp bursts. A phantom pain pounded at the back of her head. As though it'd only been yesterday.
She had to reach up, feel the even slice of her chin-length hair, feel the way it slid through her fingers.
He wasn't here anymore.
Breathing was still hard, but she managed, wrenching her neck up towards the speaker. It was a woman in scrubs, a honey-blonde ponytail high on her head.
"Yes, I'm fine." Sam pulled a smile in place, one long since perfected at her mother's pointless and consumeristic galas. "Any news on Star?"
The doctor, for she know recognized the person as such, gave her another concerned once over before seemingly shaking it off, "Right, yes. Ms. Duclair is in near excellent health. Her blood sugar was significantly high. It seems she missed an injection earlier this evening."
Blood sugar? Injection?
"Does she have some kind of eating disorder?" Sam asked, an odd combination of guilt and worry building in her stomach.
The doctor frowned, giving the raven-haired girl a pinched look. "That would be a violation of my patient's privacy, especially considering you are not an immediate family member."
"Oh," She flushed, swallowing the indignant protests that threatened to boil out of her. "Of course."
The woman sighed, "But, seeing as Ms. Duclair is already awake and requesting your presence, why don't you ask her yourself?"
Sam was up in a flash, zipping over to the door after calling a haphazard 'thanks' over her shoulder.
The room was empty, only the steady beep of an EKG filling the silence.
Star sat with her arms crossed over her chest, the plastic nub of an IV poking out the crook of her forearm. Surprisingly, the woman looked more exasperated than scared or hurt, glossed lips pulled into a frown.
"Star?" Sam asked hesitantly, dawdling by the pull-around curtain. She wasn't sure if she was still welcome, or if they're strange bond in the park was now over.
Her fears were proved ungrounded, however, when the blonde's face lit up at the sight of her. "Sam! Are you alright?"
"I feel like I should be asking you that question." She ventured into the room and slid into one of the bedside chairs.
"Me?" Star grimaced, casting the various wires criss-crossing her torso a dark frown. "I'm perfectly fine, Leslie's just a worry-wort. I swear she'd send me off to a merge if I so much as contracted tetanus."
Sam arched a brow, "You can die from tetanus."
The other waved a hand dismissively, loose hospital gown flopping at the motion, "Tomato, tomahto."
"Right," She smiled despite their off-putting surroundings. "Would you mind telling me why you collapsed in the park? I thought for sure you were having some kind of stroke."
"Nothing that serious," The invalid scrunched her brow up "I forgot to take a shot before I left for my walk, then seeing Phantom and that hunter ghost going at it…I guess I got a little overexcited."
Sam tried to keep a poker face, "Most people don't collapse when they're excited, Star."
"Guess I'm just special that way, "The woman shrugged, "That, and the type one diabetes."
Sam winced, eyes dropping to the tile. She'd had no idea...though she supposed there was really no way to just tell. "Sorry."
"The heck are you apologizing for?" Star tossed her mane of glimmering hair over one shoulder, fixing Sam with a surprisingly volatile glare for someone currently bedridden. "Not your fault my body can't make its own insulin."
"I'm still sorry, though." Sam steepled her hands, "That's got to suck."
The woman's glare dropped, lifting into a half-smile. "It's not so bad now. It really sucked when I was younger. And still had a fear of needles."
Sam wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, but fortunately she didn't have to. Star was more than willing to fill the silence for her.
"But, more importantly, what'd you think?" The other woman waggled her sculpted eyebrows, "Pretty good, am I right?"
She didn't have the faintest idea what the blonde could be referring to. "What?"
"Phantom. Wasn't he dreamy?" The EKG rose in frequency as Star held a hand to her chest, eyes sparkling. "He's not really my type—I like mine alive—but even I've got to admit he's a looker."
Sam…wasn't entirely sure she should be having this conversation with her daughter's-school's-receptionist. It seemed inappropriate for some reason.
That, and she'd never been one to ogle men. Sure, she was into them, but that didn't mean she actively stared at them.
A mental image of the way Danny's legs had fit over her, pressing her into the bed as a dark fringe shadowed his boyish grin flashed through her mind. She flushed darkly, hoping Star interpreted the colour as a result of Phantom.
If only such a reaction really had been garnered by the silver-haired wraith. A potentially heroic ghost crush that couldn't possibly ever come to light was better than whatever she was feeling towards her current housemate.
Though there had been something about Phantom that struck a cord within her. Something that just seemed to…make sense. The way his smile had been a little too crooked, eyes just a little too bright.
Yet she couldn't seem to put her finger on it yet.
She was broken out of her speculation by Star's suggestive smirk.
"What?" Sam asked, glancing around as if the answer to her question was written on the hospital room walls. "Why the face?"
"Oh, nothing. You looked a little smitten, is all. Phantom make that much of an impression on you?"
The way his tanned cheeks had glimmered with the lightest spattering of freckles, the way his voice had hitched a little higher when she'd revealed her love of DOOMED… strange. Familiar. "I guess he did," Sam conceded.
"Totally worth passing out, if you ask me. Would do it again, ten out of ten experience."
"You're an idiot," Sam remarked, though there was no real fire behind it.
"And you're only just noticing this," The woman smirked again, "Who's the idiot now?"
"You seemed a lot more innocent at the school, 'Ms. Duclair'," She retorted, lips twitching upward.
"You've caught me." The patient held her wrists out as if someone were snapping handcuffs on them, "It's all a façade."
Sam covered up her laugh with a snort, trying to reign in the wild smile that was threatening to seize her face. "Idiot."
Star rested her hands on top of the non-descript white sheet, fiddling with her hospital bracelet. "Anyway, not that I'm not enjoying tearing you a new one, but my mom will be here soon."
"I can stay, if you want me too." Sam sat up all the way, fixing the blonde with a concerned stare. She wanted to hurry home and make sure Mack and Danny hadn't burned the house down, but she'd stay all night if she was needed.
"No, you go home." The blonde gestured at the dark sky, "It's already pretty late, and you've done more than enough. Most people wouldn't have even bothered accompanying me to the hospital."
"I've always wanted to ride in an ambulance," Sam remarked, which was not in the least bit true. "And I had…fun. At the park, earlier. Before you collapsed, I mean."
Star's smile was massive, "Me too." She seemed to consider something, before extending the arm without the IV sticking out of it, "Friends?"
For the briefest of seconds, Sam was tempted to decline. Sad and pathetic as it may seem, she'd never had a friend. Honestly never even wanted one.
But maybe new places were perfect for new things, and Sam had lots of 'firsts' still waiting to happen.
She took Star's hand. "Friends."
(A/N): Twenty chapters, people! Twenty! I can hardly believe it :o
I combined two and a half chapters into this one, as I haven't been able to post as much lately. I'm hoping I can pick up my old schedule again, since I've been removed from my kind of stress inducing living situation, but we'll just have to see. Sorry :/
Thanks to everyone who's reading! And Especially to Reflective Reader, Phoenixdellaverita, xTorchbearerx, I can cry you a river, ShadowDragon357, Cyber-Geist, darkangeloflove15, Guest 1, ELIZABETH, Guest 2, Guest 3, Sam, and Snowflame98 for reviewing!
You've all played such a big part in the continuation of this fic, whether you realized it or not 333
~ASL