Author's Note: Still don't own Danny Phantom or any characters from it.

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She rubbed her elbow as he stood and stared. Finally he shook himself fully awake. Somehow he'd changed back into human form, probably when he fell asleep. He walked over to kneel next to her. "Are you alright?"

She laughed. God help him, she just laughed. Like he'd just told the biggest joke in the world. She laughed while she hauled herself into a sitting position on his beige carpet, and she was still laughing when she dropped her face into her hands. He watched her shoulders shake and wondered if he was dreaming. She eventually lifted her head and looked around the apartment as though she were searching for something.

"Sam?"

"My bag. I was wearing it when I came after you behind the school. It has to be here. If it's there we have to go get it. Danny, was I carrying my bag when we got here?" Her voice was raising excitedly as she spoke and he reached over next to the futon and tossed her large black bag at her.

She grabbed it and yanked it open, reaching in to pull out a medium-sized notebook. It was covered in black fabric and had a border of tiny skulls along one side. He smiled a little, glad to see that she was still a goth at heart. "There," she said as she thrust the notebook at him like it contained all the answers. He flipped it open and realized that maybe it did.

Sam had always been a reasonably good artist. She was constantly doodling in school, sketching pictures, designs, logos, caricatures of teachers and annoying classmates. She'd obviously improved over the years. He was staring down at the perfectly-drawn image of the fire ghost he'd fought that afternoon. Right down to the details of the armor and the flames at the fingertips.

He turned the page. There was the beast that had attacked him in the park last week, towering over a tree, huge green and slimy with deep black holes where his eyes should be. And the two-headed dragon ghost he'd found tearing the local grocery store to pieces. He flipped the pages faster and faster, recognizing each of the horrible ghosts that had recently unleashed their wrath on Amity Park. And even scarier, a few he hadn't seen yet. He raised his gaze from the last page, a vortex of energy with hundreds of menacing faces peering from it, to Sam's face. He realized she'd been staring at him the entire time.

He looked into her eyes and saw something that didn't belong there. Fear. Flat-out terror. He raised his eyebrow, the question unspoken but tangible between them. She reached out and took the notebook from him while he resisted the urge to grasp her shaking hands.

"I've been having dreams." She stopped as though she couldn't think where to go after that phrase. She tapped the book lightly. "This is my dream diary. I...I sketch what I dream when I wake up. It helps, you know, get the pictures out of my head."

He just kept looking at her. She looked down at the book. "I thought they were just nightmares. I didn't know they were real." Her violet eyes found his, locked with them. "How are they real, Danny? This doesn't make any sense."

"What made you come here, Sam?" His voice was more urgent now, his eyes still not leaving her face.

She broke the gaze first. "I talked to Jazz. She said...she said things weren't going very well here. That there were new ghosts. I wasn't sure, I mean I didn't think there was a connection, except..."

"Except what, Sam? What's going on here?" He hadn't realized how much he'd raised his voice until he saw her pull back. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly. "What's the connection. What are you seeing in these dreams?"

She swallowed, then swallowed again. "Well...mostly stuff like what happened today. I see you, fighting these ghosts..." She ran her hand through her hair. It had come loose from the ponytail and was now falling around her shoulders, partially covering her face. He couldn't read her expression, and an unwelcome panic was rising in his chest.

"And in one of them...that thing on the last page...Danny, maybe I shouldn't tell you. I mean, it's just a dream. It's just a stupid dream."

He forced himself to stay patient. He knew this wasn't easy for her. After the way he'd pushed her away he wouldn't have blamed her if she never wanted to speak to him again. And yet she'd come here because she was afraid he was in trouble. "Sam, tell me all of it."

"You die." She blurted it out harshly, then looked him right in the eye. "Everyone dies. Everyone in Amity Park. Your family, my family, everyone. The town is wrecked. Gone. Danny, it's a dream. But it's so real." He did it then. He reached out and took both of her hands in his. He hadn't realized how much he'd been wishing for just that simple touch, the feel of her fingers against his. She was crying. Sam didn't cry. And yet there was a wet trail down each of her porcelain cheeks and her eyes were a dark amethyst.

"I'll figure it out, Sam. Don't worry. It'll be ok." He was babbling, telling her anything to make her stop worrying. He ran his thumbs over her palms as he spoke. "You have to leave now. Go home and get away from here. You've got to go."

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She stood in the front door of her parent's mansion in Amity Park. A pile of matched luggage stood next to her. She looked up and down the street as though she was waiting for something. "Idiot," the ghost hovering across the street said to himself, "of course she is. She's waiting for her taxi."

She looked down at her watch, then back up and down the street. Her face lit up as she saw a figure approach. Tucker. He ran up and wrapped her in a huge bear hug. "Where's Danny?" The ghost that was now hovering over the pile of luggage fought hard with himself. The urge to materialize and get one of those hugs for himself was strong. The urge to ask her not to go was stronger. He knew once that happened it was all over. Sam would stay, not go to Europe, not go to college, not live her life.

He flew up into the air above the pair on the sidewalk and looked down. And she looked up. He jumped. She couldn't see him. He knew she couldn't. But she stared straight at him with those wide, lilac eyes. Tucker was holding her hand. "I'm sure he wanted to be here, Sam. Probably fighting a ghost. You know how it is."

Danny flew as far and as fast as he could. Over the park where he'd lost his breath and his mind when Sam had kissed him, past his own house, past the mall, outside of town. A pair of cats sitting on a fence jumped three feet in the air when the wind behind them howled two words. "Don't go!"