Summary: Valerie and Danny have a déjà vu, but now things are different.
Walking down a dark tunnel hand in hand with the boyfriend she used to hunt restlessly had Valerie attempt to clamp shut her thoughts and focus on surviving the night.
As usual, 'attempt' was an imperative word, and she had to consciously hold back and not press too hard on Danny's hand as she remembered once upon a time when they were forced to be in a similar situation.
Under their feet, the dark, stale water rippled with every step they took. The darkness prevented it from showing their reflections, but not from seeing the ripples. Valerie ad trained her sight for that –even if ghosts had that unnatural fluorescence of theirs– because you never know when it'll come in hand. Like now.
Danny didn't need to, though. Even with his powers temporarily zapped out of him –and how dare Vlad do something like that? When he knew what Danny had gone through, what he himself had experienced–, he still had a certain otherworldliness about him, his breathing was too light, his heartbeat too slow, his footsteps too silent –she could hear them, now, she wanted to make sure to notice him, so he could know he was seen–, he could see in the dark, and sometimes when she brought her hands up to cup his face he was cold.
That was a good confirmation for her, that he wasn't just ecto-contaminated, wasn't just some guy with ghost powers. He was dead, him being alive somehow didn't negate that.
Her boyfriend was dead.
Valerie let go of his hand without a word, and Danny scrambled after her, terrified.
Do you hate me? Do you want to kill me for good? Do you finally see me for the freak I am and have decided that risking death is better than being one more second in my company?
"Val?" Was all he managed to say, and immediately hated himself for how his voice broke.
Valerie said nothing, and kept walking, with Danny trailing uncertainly after her.
"Do you… do you want to talk?" Whatever it was, he would ace it head on. Even if it broke his heart.
Valerie turned around, her eyes down and kept walking backwards. Danny stopped, afraid she wanted to put space between them and he was bothering her, but she took his hand and pulled him along, going so far as to put his hands on her hips and entwine her fingers behind his neck holding him close in a poor pantomime of dancing as they walked.
"Danny…" She finally said in a voice so low he only heard it because of how close they were. "… if it's only the two of us here, then why are there three different sets of footsteps?"
Get it? Because three sets of steps are six feet!
*ba dum tss*