Author Note: Okay, Okay. I know I said I would be updating sooner, but I didn't have any time!! I'm sooooo sorry.It's been exactly a month since I've updated last. Please oh please don't hate me. I hope I haven't lost any of my reviewers!! EEEp!!!

Disclaimer: I still, and never will, don't own a damn thing.

All Sam could feel was an unbelievable painful pressure on her head as she slowly came to. She was dying—well, at least that's what it felt like. Her head was pounding unbelievably hard, and she felt like she would vomit any minute. Suddenly she wished she was unconscious again. Her eyes fluttered open and she realized she was in a hospital bed, an IV attached to her right arm. The room was dark, so she figured it was late into the night. She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn't respond to her. Growing slightly panicked, Sam's eyes flicked to a chair beside her bed, and immediately she felt relief. Danny was lying in the chair; his feet sprawled out in front of him, his neck arching uncomfortably on the wooden chair, sleeping what looked like a fitful slumber. He had several cuts and bruises on his face, and a deep cut just above his eyebrow. His hair was tousled, and he looked sallow and exhausted. Sam tried to remember anything from the previous night, but nothing came to. Then, suddenly, as if a light bulb went off in her head, Sam remembered the wine, the near kiss, the ghost, and the red eyes. She shivered despite herself and once again felt as if she would vomit.

She was so tired, her bones felt numb. Looking around the room, another figure caught her eye. Tucker was lying sprawled out on another chair in the far right corner. He adorned no bruises or cuts, but looked absolutely exhausted. Sam could have cried—she loved her friends so much. And they looked so tired—she didn't want to wake them up. They'd probably been through enough.

With a sigh of exhaustion, Sam settled back onto the itchy hospital pillows and let black overtake her world yet again.

Danny watched Sam's lifeless body fall to the ground as the black mist sailed directly through it. She looked dead—his heart stopped beating and he felt himself go completely numb. There was a trickle of blood escaping her mouth and Danny had to close his eyes for a moment before he was sure he wouldn't pass out. He wanted to fly down to her immediately but he had a ghost to take care of, and if he didn't get rid of it immediately the situation could only get worse. Danny needed no interruptions when he aided Sam.

Blue eyes met blood red ones as the ghost began to hurl itself toward Danny. Danny tried to regain his thought but he just couldn't—he felt so weak, he just wanted it all to go away—he suddenly wished then, as Sam's unconscious body lay beneath him and this ghost was about to murder him—he suddenly wished then so bad that he was a normal teenager. He wanted to worry nothing more than about grades, he wanted a girlfriend, and he wanted to just hang out with his two best friends. He sure as hell didn't want this. Not this, no, this was hell. It was beyond hell—it was a slow, tortured, never ending death, a nightmare that he'd never wake up from. Something he could never, never escape.

But what he needed to deal with was the ghost right now. But how the hell was he going to beat this thing if he didn't have the thermos? And he just couldn't very well run back to his house, grab it, and come back. Thinking, panicking, Danny cringed as the ghost came nearer.

"Danny Phantom," the black blur spat. Its voice was low and raspy, a voice that Danny didn't care to listen to. "I'll let you off this time, but not for long. You better believe that I'll be back...and so help me God next time—next time I won't be so nice."

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but the black blur took of into the night. What the hell was that? Why had that ghost just let Danny go? And why had he even hurt Sam? And what the hell was going on?

Danny immediately flew down to Sam and changed back into his regular mode. He knelt down beside her, and once again felt as if he'd faint.

"Oh God please be okay," he whispered. He cradled her in his arms and felt sick. He didn't know what he would do if something bad happened to Sam...he wouldn't be able to live with himself. He felt the back of his throat close up and he closed his eyes. He needed to think clearly. Hospital. He needed to get Sam to a hospital. With that, he held her bruised and frail body close to him, changed into his intangible ghost mode, and headed for Amity Park Hospital.

The second time Sam woke up, the hospital room was dimly lit. Her head was still pounding, and she could barely open her eyes. Noticing a clock in the far corner, she read that it was seven o'clock in the evening. She had been sleeping for hours. She felt queasy and dirty—she wanted a bath incredibly bad. Trying to sit herself up, she looked around the room. Tucker was no longer in the chair sleeping, and Danny was gone too. She was slightly disappointed—she wished somebody was there, anyone, she just had to see a face, something to remind her that she wasn't sleeping still.

Trying to sit up, she found that the IV was still in her right arm. She had never had an IV in her before, and she was afraid to move and have it ripped out. She knew that was absurd, but Sam had never been in a hospital before, her being the one injured, and she couldn't help but feel scared. She felt like she was six again—all she wanted to do was run under her covers and lay there until all her troubles were swept away. But she wasn't six. And she wasn't under her covers. She was in an itchy hospital gown, the uncomfortable hospital bed making her back ache. It smelled of hospital, and she felt queasy and dirty. She abandoned her hopes of sitting up and just laid there, trying to piece together the events that caused her to be there.

Just as she was about to fall back asleep, the door opened and Sam's heart immediately lifted at the sight of Danny. His eyes were downcast, his hair completely tousled. He looked exhausted. There was a scratch above his eyebrow and his lip had crusted over in the corner with blood. As soon as his eyes met Sam's, he rushed over to her side, his breathing haggard.

"Sam...thank God you're awake," he said, his voice raspy and scratchy. He pulled over a chair and sat down, taking a deep breath. "I was so scared—I thought I might have lo—"

"I'm okay," Sam interrupted him. She didn't want to hear him say it—she didn't want to know she almost died. It would just make everything worse. "My head hurts...what day is it?"

"It's Monday night," Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You've been asleep for about forty-eight hours."

Sam groaned. She was so confused. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she didn't think she'd be able to rest for a long time. She laid there, watching Danny watch her. His eyes were so tired, their usual blue sparkle dead and empty. He looked anxious too—like he was hiding something. Something was definitely wrong.

"Danny—what's the matter?" She asked in a low voice. She didn't have much energy. He jumped a little and looked down at her tenderly.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "I'm just so grateful you're alive. Tucker was here earlier, we came as soon as school was out. My parents made me go. Your parents are here too, and my parents and Jazz. They're down in the cafeteria getting something to eat."

Sam grinned a tired grin. She was happy her family was here—all of her family. The Fenton's, her parents. She didn't want to think about the night before, and Danny seemed to read her mind. Her gave her a small grin and brushed her bangs to the side. Sam felt a little tingle where his hand lingered on her cheek. She hadn't forgotten about their 'drunken almost kiss'. But she doubted Danny remembered, he never held liquor nearly as well as she had, and besides, there wasn't time for a crush.

Danny pulled his hand away from her cheek awkwardly and coughed. Sam looked away. It was so awkward.

"Why don't you get some rest," Danny said, sitting back in his chair. "I'm gonna do some homework. Tuck's doing some research for us about the ghost that got you—"

Sam frowned, but it was getting harder and harder to stay awake. "What do you mean research? Why do we need research? The ghost's in the thermos, isn't he?"

Danny grimaced. He didn't want to tell Sam about this now, not when she was so tired. "Not exactly...don't worry Sam, just get back to sleep."

"Not...exactly? Danny...what..." but her eyelids had closed and once again Sam drifted off to a fitful sleep.

Danny watched her from his chair, his stomach in a knot. That ghost was still out there, lurking about, ready to strike. Sam and Tucker and himself were in danger, and it was up to Danny to protect them all—the burden was suffocating him, but he would die rather than one of them become hurt again.

A small voice in the back of Danny's mind that he tried to ignore pierced through him. He had a very strong feeling that the next time he saw that ghost, was the last time he ever saw anything again.

Again, I'm soooooo sorry!!!! Don't stone me, please!!! AHH! I hope to get this thing rollin' again.Thanks to all my reviewers!!!! I love you ALL!!!! MWHA!!!!! My sisters a bitch and is making get off but I SWEAR, next time, LONG shout outs!!!! YAY!!