Author's Note: This one started as what was supposed to be a long one-shot, and I guess it still is, but in my mind it became so much more. I'm going to convert this one into a real story to go in my original collection, and maybe one day I'll get it published. Also, I've split it into two parts as one song just didn't cut it. So here ya go; my latest baby.
Missing: Rated M for some language and sexual references.
July, 2016
There was a very annoying beeping resounding somewhere alongside her head.
It wouldn't shut up.
Growling in frustration and lack of sleep, Sam Manson rolled over and gazed at the red numbers of her digital clock. 1:30… in the AM. She slammed her fist down onto the alarm, but wasn't rewarded at all for her efforts. The beeping continued, confusing her sleep-muddled mind. It was then that she heard the vibrating, and noticed that her beeper was slowly shifting around on her night table.
Whoever was calling her this early had to be crazy… or they had a death wish. Angrily, Sam picked up the beeper and gazed at the number. A frustrated groan echoed in the dark room.
Tucker…
Sam waited patiently until the beeping and buzzing stopped before replacing the beeper on the table and curling up to go back to sleep. It was about thirty seconds later, when…
"Tucker!" she yelled audibly, not even bothering to look at the beeping beeper. She just threw it across the room and then got up to go to the phone.
The apartment was cold, and she wasn't wearing much, but she didn't care. She let the cold wake her up, taking satisfaction in the lack of heat. It was her apartment. It was her heating bill she'd missed the payment on. It was her fault, and it was her mess to get out of. And she would do it, too. That's why Sam had planned on talking to the chief the next day about possibly helping her to get a part-time job. She'd wanted to get a lot of sleep so maybe the circles under her eyes wouldn't be so prominent… for once. Thanks, Tuck, she told him in her head. Thanks a lot.
She reached the phone and punched in the numbers she knew by heart. Cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear, she reached into the cabinet for some tea. Ring… ring…
"Sam, what the hell took so long?"
"Hello to you, too, Tucker. It's one-thirty in the morning and it took me five minutes. You're lucky I called you at all."
"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm just excited."
She grimaced. "I don't need to hear about your sexual exploits, Tuck."
"Oh, ha-ha." Sam smiled as she imagined him rolling his eyes. "That's not the kind of excited I mean and you know it."
"I don't know a damn thing this early." She put the teapot on the stove before remembering that gas stoves got nixed along with the heat. Microwave it was.
"You will in a minute. I've got a lead."
The pot hit the counter with a clank. "Tell me."
Tucker laughed. "I knew you'd be interested."
"Yeah, yeah, you're a genius and you know it. Clap your hands. Now tell me what you've got."
"I couldn't sleep and went out to the warehouse we didn't finish inspecting—and before you say anything, yes, I know it was stupid of me to go alone." Sam shut her mouth over the words he'd just spoken for her. "I just had to do something, you know? So I went over there with some of the equipment and did a sweep of the thirteenth floor…"
He couldn't stop her admonition this time. "Tucker! You went alone to the thirteenth floor of a nearly abandoned building? You know better than that! I thought we decided to save the thirteenth for last."
"We did, but you'll be glad I decided to up our time schedule. Turns out I met an old friend."
Sam's heart leapt, but she held herself under control. It's not him. If it was him, Tucker would have come and gotten me. It's not him. Don't get your hopes up, Sam. "Who?"
"Walker."
"No!"
"Yes. Turns out his jail got so crowded because of all the rampant ghosts that they overthrew him, and kicked him out of the ghost zone. He's been hiding in the warehouse, and that's why—"
"That's why our sensors picked up the paranormal reading!" Sam said, cutting him off enthusiastically. "What kind of information did he have?"
"A lot, but not much he was willing to part with. I managed to capture him… I don't know if ghosts can get drunk, but he was sure acting it…" Tucker paused while Sam laughed. "I figured you'd want to interrogate him with me."
"Hell yes!" She laughed again, this time out of pure triumph. Finally, something to go off of!
Tucker paused. "You know, Sam, it's good to hear you laugh again. You should do it more often. Experts say it helps relieve stress."
"I have too much stress to laugh a lot," she retorted, finally realizing she'd forgotten about her tea. It was lukewarm by then, but she didn't care. They had a lead! "Listen, Tuck, I'll give you a shout tomorrow… er, later today I mean. I know I was mad before, but thanks for calling. I want to take some time and make sure I've got my questions right."
It was Tucker's turn to laugh. "You've been making sure those questions are perfect for almost ten years now, Sam. I'm sure they're fine. At least you're finally getting a chance to use them. Now, go get some sleep."
He hung up the phone before she could even answer, and she pressed the off button happily. Swigging down the last of her cold tea, Sam returned to her tiny bedroom and curled up under her blankets, reveling in their warmth. This good news sparked old memories. Sam stared at her ceiling, reliving her younger years of life. She did this every night, but for once there was an inkling of hope behind the bitterness…
March, 1998
A slim girl with dark hair hid behind the bushes in front of her elementary school. She was curled up against the brick wall, waiting for the teacher to call them back to class.
Stupid boys… stupid school… stupid eyes. She didn't want to cry.
There was a rustle from the bushes beside her and she tensed, waiting for another one of the bullies to come and find her. Instead, a dark-haired boy came tumbling through. His clothes were messed up and his hair was in a funny shape, but the girl didn't dare laugh at him. He might be mean, too.
The boy shook himself before leaning against the wall like she was and looking at her.
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
The girl glared. "I'm not crying," she stated firmly. "I'm hiding."
"Okay. Why are you hiding?"
She frowned at him. "Because boys are stupid and don't understand my individuality."
"Huh? What does individuality mean?"
"It means I'm different from other people."
The boy thought seriously for a moment. "Okay. But my mom tells me that everyone's different in their own way."
"But some people are more different, and boys make fun of them for it."
Again, the little boy paused. "I'm not making fun of you."
This time, the girl had to think. After she was done, she nodded. "I'm Sam."
He smiled. "I'm Danny."
Just then the teacher blew the whistle and the two children were forced to come inside. They didn't talk again, but when a larger boy pushed Sam to the ground on the way in, she looked at Danny, and he smiled at her.
September, 2004
Stupid guys… stupid high school… stupid life. Sam sighed and let her head fall back hard against the brick wall outside the school. How many times had she done this? How many times had she been apathetic on the outside, while on the inside she was just waiting for a chance to get away? A million… maybe more. She was skipping again, and though she'd probably get caught this time, as it was early, she really couldn't care.
Sometimes it got hard being different, but that's what being different is all about. You have to work to be yourself, even if everyone around you hates that person…
She'd thought high school might be different. Surely there would be someone to take her in, be her friend? But no. There were even more popular kids up here than there had been in middle school, and none of the current Goths had any open spaces in their groups, apparently. So she had nowhere to go.
Sometimes, being an individual sucked.
Just then, the front doors of the school opened and a gangly boy in jeans and a t-shirt came tumbling out. He landed a few feet away from her, followed by the sounds of laughter from inside the school.
"That'll teach you to be late for class, Fen-toad! See you later for your daily locker-stuffing!"
The laughing receded as 'Fen-toad' picked himself up. He leaned against the brick wall and sighed.
"I'm surprised to see someone else out here," he said casually. Sam lifted an eyebrow.
"Why are you talking to me?"
He glanced at her. "Because I just got thrown out the front door of my school by a bunch of jerks, and there's no one else around. What are you doing here?"
"Refusing to care."
The boy paused for a moment. "Care about what?"
"People hating me. People hurting me."
"Hurting you?"
Sam just sighed and showed him her upper arm, where a bruise had formed. "Some kid thought it'd be funny to shove the Goth girl into the janitor's closet. I fought back."
Once again, the boy paused. "I'll protect you," he said finally, smiling brilliantly.
She scoffed. "I don't need protection."
"Then I'll befriend you. I'm Danny."
"I'm Sam."
Immediately, both teens put a hand to their heads. "Whoa, déjà vu," they said simultaneously.
And that's where the fun began.
July, 2016
Sam smiled, remembering that day. It was the second time she and Danny had met, though they wouldn't remember that until much later. They'd become fast friends, and it wasn't long before their get-togethers outside were joined by another member, Tucker. He was a techno-geek; another misfit.
So there they'd been: a Goth, a geek, and a wimp, best friends forever. They did everything together, and when Danny's parents' experiments went wrong and Danny was imbued with ghost powers, Sam and Tucker had been there to back him up. They'd fought countless ghosts their freshman and sophomore years, and it really brought them closer together. Sam had even thought she loved Danny…
She wouldn't think about that. She refused to. Sam effectively cut off her thoughts and stopped the memories there, ending with one of their successful ghost fights. That was all she could bear to remember.
Uneasily, she slipped into sleep…
"I swear, one day when we graduate out of this hole, I'm going to find my own apartment, and my parents won't be able to say a darn thing."
"Sam, you live in the lap of luxury."
"But I don't want to! I was never given the choice of whether I wanted to be rich or not, it just happened. Now I'm making the choice."
Danny smiled. "So you're giving up convenience in the face of your ethical personal freedoms?"
Sam sent him an anxious, side-long glance. Things weren't usually good when Danny used big words… "Yes."
He caught her looking at him strangely and swung his arm around her shoulder. "Cool. Maybe someday I'll have the guts to do that, too."
Outside, Sam smiled. Inside, she jumped for joy. He put his arm around me! Her mind screamed. She felt jittery suddenly and slightly giddy. "Danny, you fight ghosts that threaten our world on a near-daily basis. You've got guts. I've just got stubbornness and a superiority complex."
"Isn't that supposed to be 'inferiority' complex?" Tucker asked, joining them. His nose was buried in a video game, but apparently his ears still worked.
She shook her head, and her hair brushed Danny's arm. "Nope. People with an inferiority complex feel like they're inferior to everyone and want to be superior. I want the opposite. Hence, superiority complex."
"Right." Tucker looked up to grin at her then, and noticed the arm. "Uh, Danny? Are you feeling okay?"
"Sure, Tuck. Why?"
"Because you've got your arm around Sam like she's your girlfriend…"
Danny took one look at his arm and drew it away. Sam was ready to throttle Tucker. "It's not like that, Tuck, and you know it. We've told you millions of times; we're just friends," Danny insisted as they entered the school.
Sam hung back, a frown on her face. Yeah, she denied it, but she would always want to be more than friends with Danny…
"Morning, Sam," Tucker greeted. She growled in return. "Hey, down girl. You sounded grumpy on the phone, but I figured it was just that you were tired. What's got you in a tizzy?"
"I didn't sleep well." No, she hadn't slept well. She'd been dreaming about Danny all night. And waking up every time she got to that point in her life story was not conducive to a normal sleep pattern. She scowled. "Let's just do this. I've got the ghost shield."
Pressing a button, a green dome with a ten foot diameter appeared around them in the warehouse. They backed to the edge and Tucker pulled from his bag a very technical-looking thermos. "And I've got the ghost," he said, twisting off the lid. A bright blue light appeared from the thermos, and in seconds a tall pale man in what looked to be a warden's clothing stood before them. They stepped out from under the dome.
"Walker," Sam greeted the man in white, who was slamming his fist against the green wall that Tucker and Sam had just walked through. He couldn't get through it. "No, you're not getting out. We're not stupid."
"Can't blame a guy for trying." Walker gazed around him. "Can't say I like captivity much," he stated with a Southern drawl.
"Yeah, well, now you know how it feels," Tucker retorted. He pulled up a folding chair from along the wall and sat down. "How've you been?"
Walker frowned. "Funny thing to ask a ghost, don't you think?"
"Not the ghosts we deal with," Sam replied, calmly fishing in her backpack for something. "Let's just cut the trivialities, shall we? What do you know about Danny?"
Walker just smiled wickedly. "Danny who?"
Sam didn't appreciate his humor. Silently, she withdrew from her bag a small cylinder, on which she pressed a button. Long green threads extended from one end. Unceremoniously, Sam lashed out and struck Walker with the ghostly cat-o-nine-tails, causing large red slashes to appear on the arm he'd defended himself with. Sam retracted the weapon as Walker nursed his arm. "I'm asking again. What do you know about Danny?"
Walker glanced hopefully at Tucker, but found no help from the blank-stared boy. He sighed as Sam readied the whip again. "You've got your work cut out for you," he conceded.
"What do you mean?" Tucker asked.
"He won't be easy to find. I only know so much, and I've been out of the ghost zone for a while."
"Just tell us anything you know."
"I will, but I need something in return first."
Sam laughed bitterly. "I'm not destroying you. Isn't that enough?"
"No, because at this point there's not much to exist for. All I need is a ride back to… Amity Park."
Immediately, both humans' spines tingled and their bodies tensed. "Why?" Tucker asked harshly.
"Because," Walker explained. "That's where my old station was. I'm bound to it, and this far away, my powers are weakened. I can't get back on my own."
"What about the other ghosts there?"
"I figure I can handle them. I need something to do for eternity, after all."
For a few moments, Sam and Tucker contemplated this. They sent each other a look, clearly showing their feelings about going back to Amity Park. They had so much history there, and now that the ghosts were in charge, it wasn't exactly safe…
"I'll do it," Sam said, her gaze still locked on Tucker's. "Just help us find Danny."
"Sam," he whispered, caressing her cheek. "Sam, I'll see you soon."
She couldn't stop the tears. "You don't know that, Danny! You could die out there; there's too many of them! Please, don't go. We'll run away to where it's safer. I can't stand to lose you."
"This is my job, Sammy. It's what I do. I fight ghosts. I have to go, and you know that. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine. I always am."
"But—"
"Shhh." He cut her off and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're my best friend, and you rock. When I get back, we'll go see that new thriller-slasher-romance you wanted to check out at the movies. My treat."
He started to move, but Sam caught his hand. She stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Danny, I… I…"
"I know, Sam." Slowly, he set her away from him, the blue of his eyes changing to green, but holding the same emotion. He touched her hand with his gently. "I do, too."
And he walked away.
Sobs racked Sam's body as she lay curled up on her bed. The tears began while she was sleeping, and hadn't stopped in half an hour. The ripping feeling in her heart intensified every moment, as if she were being torn to shreds. Oh, she missed him! She'd loved him so much, and he went and left her. He'd left her, and after ten years he wasn't back. She wanted him back!
Finally not able to stand it anymore, Sam stood and ran to the bathroom, vomiting in the toilet. She knelt there a few moments more before flushing it away and washing her face. She was still crying. She braced her hands on the counter and looked up through dripping eyes to gaze at her reflection. Sam gazed deeply into the glass, and soon, her image began to change. Her face became more square, her eyes more blue. Her hair shortened and fell across her forehead rakishly, matching her charming, boyish grin. It was Danny staring back at her from the mirror, the same Danny from years ago she'd known and loved.
Was he still the same? Did he still smile readily? Were he here, could she still make him laugh by making farting noises in her arm? Would he call her Sammy? Would he love her again?
She knew he loved her. He had to. That look in his eyes as he left—there was just no other explanation. He'd known what she was trying to say, and said it back. She knew this with the same certainty that somewhere, he was still alive. He was Danny Fenton, her love, and Danny Phantom, her hero. He couldn't die. He just couldn't.
Ever since that day he disappeared from her life, her mind had been taken over by thoughts of him. She'd lie in bed and think of nothing but him, no matter how hard she tried to fall asleep. And when sleep did greet her, her dreams were always of him. She had to find him; there was no choice in the matter. For her own sanity, if nothing else. She'd do anything to have her love beside her again. When Tucker tried to stop her crying, he told her to breathe, but if felt like Sam hadn't lived, hadn't breathed, since Danny left.
I believe in you, she told him with her mind. I always have, Danny. I'm going to find you, no matter how long it takes. With my last breath I'll know that even my spirit won't give up the search. You took over my life and my heart… I love you too much to let you go.
She'd said it to him many times like that in the nights she couldn't stop thinking about him. It comforted her and gave her some kind of security. She wouldn't stop looking. Ever.
Slowly, Sam made her way back to her room. The clock read 4:30 in the morning, and she couldn't go back to sleep. Seeing as she'd taken the next day off-duty to return Walker to Amity Park, she didn't see why she couldn't start then. She'd be on the highway for a while.
Walker… he'd given them more than he knew; a new place to start. And, as the person he said to go to was only to be found in Amity Park, she was killing two birds with one stone. True, Tucker had ordered her not to dare go without him, but she wasn't one to take orders, so…
She started up the car.
The ride to her old hometown was long, and it was early afternoon by the time she reached the city's outer limits. Already she could sense the devastation… the old welcome sign had been torn down and smashed to pieces. As Sam drove farther into the town, she noticed that buildings looked darker and more menacing, and every once in a while she would catch a ghost weaving between windows. She had to navigate slowly to avoid large amounts of garbage lying in the road, but soon she'd pulled up to the bane and blessing of her teenage years—Casper High.
Reaching into the backseat she grabbed the Fenton Thermos and got out of the car. She pressed the release button quickly, and then reached back for the Jack-o-nine-tails, just for protection. Walker came slipping back into the world, and he looked healthier now that he was back in Amity Park. For Sam, however, the town gave her chills.
"Thanks."
"Um… you're welcome," Sam replied awkwardly. She wasn't used to ghosts being friendly at all. "Thanks for the information. Now I know a place to go, at least. I'll be seeing—"
"Plasmius!" Walker yelled, and Sam could tell from his face that he wasn't just finishing her sentence. She whirled around to face the infamous half-a, her grip tight on the whip.
"Ah, Walker. So good to see you again. And… young Samantha Manson! What a surprise," he said, smiling charmingly.
"I'm not so young anymore, Vlad, and cut the crap. I know you're not happy to see me."
He tried to look shocked. "Why, my dear girl, wouldn't I be? I always welcome visitors, and we don't get many of the living kind nowadays. It does get lonely here, especially with out my lovely Maddie…"
"Ew. Stop right there. You're not happy to see me because you know I'm here to ask questions."
"Questions? About what?"
"Danny."
"Ah, of course, young Daniel. It's a shame, really… I always warned him about letting his guard down. Stupid really, when so much was going on."
Sam cracked the whip menacingly. "Don't talk about him like that!"
For a moment, Vlad's gaze widened. Then he smiled. "You really should watch your temper, Sam. Danny had that problem, too, you know."
Unbeknownst to her, Sam's eyes glowed green for a split second in her rage. Vlad nearly peed himself, but managed to keep from appearing too shocked. The girl… was she a half-a? "Just answer my questions and I'll get out of your hair, Vlad. I've got it on good authority that you should be able to tell me something." Sam looked around, but saw that Walker had gone. That was fine with her.
"Do you really? Well, ask away."
"What happened to Danny on the day of the attack?"
Vlad sighed. "I told you this already, Ms. Manson. In the ghost zone there is a certain hierarchy. The lesser ghosts, usually left behind, bound together and fought back. They managed to recruit or overpower the higher beings, and set forth to take over Amity Park. Danny, having the hero complex he did, decided to fight them. I, on the other hand, had been swept along for the ride and got to watch him fight as the rest of the city fled. He was doing very well for a while, but then he got distracted and… he fell."
"What happened to his body?"
Vlad frowned. "Must you really be hearing this? It can't possible be good for your psyche."
"Just. Answer."
"Alright, alright. It was… completely destroyed. Blown to smithereens."
Bile rose in the back of Sam's throat, but she pushed it back down. Danny… "What would you say if I said that I know Danny's still alive?"
"I'd say you were foolish and wishful. I'm sorry, Samantha. He's gone."
With that, he flew away. Sam glared at his retreating form and spat, showing how much she cared for the evil half-a. Sam was about to get back in her car and drive away, her attempt at following the lead a failure, when her instinct caused her to pause.
Wait… there's something more here.
Uneasily, Sam let go of the car handle and began to walk down the street. She let her feet guide her, remembering all the times she'd done this with Danny; aimlessly strutted the streets of their city. She walked up the front steps of the school and into the main hallway. She let the memories and pain grip her. She felt it, accepted it, and learned from it. It wasn't often that Sam bothered to learn about herself, but the idea that she missed this old place intrigued her. Maybe it's not the building I miss… it's the people.
Sam moved from familiar room to familiar locker to familiar stairwell to familiar window; she looked out at the view she'd seen a million times, but it was so different… dilapidated buildings and broken homes. That's all that was left.
She retraced her steps, this time heading for the Nasty Burger, or what was left of it. Managing to crack a smile, Sam bent to pick a packet of the famous hot sauce from the ruins. That stuff was deadly… She pocketed the packet and moved on. Next was the park, where Sam sat beside the cracked and drained fountain. She was sure there were many ghosts gazing at her invisibly, as this had been one of the main places to be hit by the sudden attack.
For obvious reasons, Sam was stalling. She didn't want to travel down the road she, Tucker, and Danny had lived on as kids. But somehow, she knew she had to. And so she began with slow, small steps at first, but soon she was running, running right past her own home and right to Danny's, the two-story building with a huge metal contraption on top. One corner of the building had been blown off but Sam went in anyway, running up the stairs and down the hall to the room she'd spent countless afternoons in…
What met her eyes when she reached the bedroom couldn't have surprised her more. Sam stepped in, spinning as she did so. While the hallway and other rooms were a mess, from Danny's door in the house had been untouched. Everything was still there, and when Sam closed the door she was sucked into the past, her breath taken by the memories. It was like she was home again or at least at Danny's like any normal day after school, waiting for him to come up with snacks so they could study… or, at least, try to study. They would get distracted by a tickle fight or Tucker on instant message or one of Danny's dad's new inventions, which would invariably try to harm him or suck him into an alternate universe, and Danny would make an excuse and Jack would leave and they'd laugh about it for days…
It was like he'd never left.
Sam moved jerkily to the bed and lay down, resting her head on Danny's pillow like she had on lazy summer days of doing nothing whatsoever. She gazed at the walls filled with posters and pictures, and on a whim she reached under the bed. Her fingertips met something hard, and she pulled it out. Yes, there it was; the photo album that she and her friends had kept from the moment they were together…
She didn't dare open it. She could see Danny's face clearly enough, even after all these years. Instead, she pressed it against her chest, slipped under the covers, and fell asleep.
After all the screaming and running and explosions and crashes, it was far too quiet outside. Sam and Tucker looked at each other, and then at their families, all of which had opted to stay under the protection of the Fenton's ghost shield… except Danny. After everyone else's efforts had failed, he'd risked his secret and revealed himself to the people who knew him best, and then flown off to save the world… and hadn't come back. They were all thinking the same thing, and yet couldn't bring themselves to say it aloud.
Finally, Maddie Fenton stood. "I have to go out there. I have to go find my boy."
No one stopped her; instead the entire group rose and followed her out the front door. Their homes were all fallen, as were most of the buildings in the residential district. Even then, some ghosts were still out and about, cackling and crying out their unforgettable obsessions. Other than the nine people walking as a pack down the streets of Amity Park, it was deserted. Everyone else in the entire city had run far, far away. Slowly, the group picked their way through the rubble, searching for a young boy who was just trying to do the right thing…
They never did find him.
Everyone but the Fentons and Sam and Tucker had given up after a few days. They continued on, however, until one day as the two teenagers were going through the destroyed mall…
"Oh, no," Sam murmured, reaching down to the ground. Tucker saw this and came over quickly, looking over her shoulder to see what she'd found.
It was a backpack, and inside were a Fenton Thermos, some Fenton Phones, a mini ghost shield, and a change of clothes. The bag was clearly Danny's, and most of the electronics inside had been smashed. Sam dropped the bag onto the ground, unable to think.
"Sam, we have to show Danny's parents."
The tears began to well up in her eyes, and her hands shook as they hung by her side. "He can't be gone, Tucker… he was a hero. I know I always told him he wasn't invincible, but I don't think I ever believed myself…" She started to cry outright then, and found herself wrapped in Tucker's unfamiliar but comforting embrace.
"Danny was a strong guy. He could still be out there."
She couldn't respond, simply buried her face in Tuck's shoulder and held on for dear life.
Tucker couldn't believe he was walking into Danny's house again. It was so surreal—the entire experience was. As soon as he realized Sam had gone against him and headed off alone, he was after her, and once he'd checked a few other places, he knew she had to be here.
And he was right.
Tucker walked into Danny's room, smiling to see Sam asleep in his bed. It took him a minute to register why this was strange; once he did, however, he was amazed to find everything perfectly in place. It even seemed natural that Sam was there, clutching a photo album like a lifesaver.
He knew he had to wake her up. Sam's dreams could turn mentally dangerous, dragging her into sorrow more easily than anything Tucker could think of, and in an environment like this, it would happen even faster. He crossed the room to her side and squeezed her arm, what he always did when trying to wake her up. He squeezed her arm lightly and bent down to her ear.
"Sam… Sam… Wake up, Sam."
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around. She didn't seem surprised to see him there. Instead, she sat up and showed him what she held.
"Look, Tuck, our old photo album. I couldn't open it; I was scared."
Tucker was extremely worried for his friend. For once she wasn't sarcastic, or menacing, or even depressed. She was speaking like a child, and moving with an innocent manner that touched him. Tears came to his eyes as he took the book from her hands and laid it on the bed between them. "You don't have to be scared, Sam. Danny's not gone, remember? He's just lost. We probably should look at it… it might just give us a clue."
She nodded, and reached out to open the cover.
Together they flipped through the pictures. There was one from almost every conceivable place around town, and even a few from conventions or concerts they'd gone to together. The whole time, Sam just stared, turning pages and occasionally touching a particular picture lightly. Tucker was crying silently; the first time he'd let go since the ceremonial service the Fentons insisted on having… in Danny's memory.
Eventually, they reached the end of the book. Tucker closed it and slipped it to the floor, and then reached back for Sam. He took the position he always did when they thought together about Danny; him sitting with her on his lap. Usually, he'd be saying words of encouragement to her, trying to get her to stop crying. This time, it was him that needed the comfort.
In the back of Sam's car, there was a bag. In the bag were the photo album, a few CDs, and Danny's cologne. She'd snuck them out without Tucker knowing because she knew he'd disapprove of her having such tangible and painful reminders of their past. But now that she knew they were there, Sam insisted on having them. She couldn't live without them.
They hadn't found any clues at all, just a creepy feeling that something powerful was watching them and the urge to get out of Amity Park as soon as possible. And so they left, driving home in the middle of the night. The next day, they would have to get up for work and pretend the world was okay.
Sam rolled into bed around three, dropping her bag of memories on the floor beside her nightstand. Without even bothering to change, she crashed into sleep.
He started to move, but Sam caught his hand. She stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Danny, I… I…"
"I know, Sam." Slowly, he set her away from him, the blue of his eyes changing to green, but holding the same emotion. He touched her hand with his gently. "I love you, too."
Wait… that wasn't right! Danny was supposed to remain ambiguous and turn to leave just in time for his parents to come and catch him as the half-a. But he'd just told her he loved her, and that had never happened before… Sam went along with it.
"Danny, I never want to lose you," she said.
"You won't, Sam. Have faith. I'll always be with you, no matter what happens. Just have faith."
He kissed her cheek before turning and heading out the door, no parents interrupting. Intrigued and insanely hopeful, Sam followed him, her body gliding after the boy with white hair and glowing green eyes.
She saw him leave the house and begin to fight. She saw as he gained the upper hand and lost it again, and then gained it back again. In fact, Danny had captured or destroyed over a dozen ghosts single-handedly before…Vlad. He rose up out of nothing and taunted Danny, causing the tired young man with a temper to attack. Vlad pulled out some strange gun, however, and fired it at Danny in his weakened state. Sam tried to cry out but her voice was blocked, and Danny was hit by the ray from the gun.
oOoOoOo
Sam stared at the sudden change of scenery. She was in the ghost zone, but she couldn't figure out why. Never after the attack had she gone back to the ghost zone… it was something she and Tucker needed to work up the courage to do together, and until recently they hadn't known a portal still existed.
She heard a noise then and turned around. There was a large figure holding a smaller one and carrying him into one of the many floating doors. They were almost through when they were forced to turn a certain way, and Sam saw that the figure being carried was Danny. Thrown into a panic from Danny being taken away, Sam shot forward, only to just miss the door as it closed… and disappeared.
That was odd. Usually the doors just closed and stayed that way until someone opened them. But this one was gone completely, not even just invisible. It was not there, and neither was any sign of Danny.
It had been a very long night.
Sam sighed and brushed the hair out of her face as she walked into the precinct building she worked at. After the attack and Danny's disappearance, the three families had moved far away from Amity Park. Tucker and Sam had finished out high school and then attended the same college, both becoming part of the police force—Tucker as a weaponry and electronics technician, Sam as a field agent.
She was known for her strict attitude toward crime, her lax attitude toward the rules, and her lethal combat training. He was known for his 'mad computer skills,' his efficiency at hacking into any computer on Earth, and his willingness to do absolutely anything for Sam.
"Manson!" someone called out, causing her to stop the sluggish migration to her desk. She turned to find Chief Langdon striding confidently towards her. He was a large man; in stature, voice, and personality. Behind him, trying to keep up was a very young-looking girl. Immediately, Sam became uneasy. This couldn't possibly be good…
"Yes, Chief?" Sam answered, turning fully around.
"I'm glad I caught you before anyone else—I wanted to give you the news."
"News, sir?" The uneasiness increased.
"I'm promoting you."
And then it disappeared.
"A promotion! But Chief, I've only been here about a year…"
"Yes, I know, but you've got a good record, and as crazy as it sounds, I like you." Langdon patted Sam on the shoulder, nearly knocking her over. She managed to crack a smile. In all honesty, she liked him, too. Langdon reminded her of a slightly saner Jack Fenton. "Now, don't get too high and mighty, Manson, your rank isn't changing, per se, but if you play your cards right and don't get into any trouble…" He lifted his eyebrows, insinuating a future furtherance of her career. She nodded.
"Yes, sir, I understand. So, what's my job?"
"I'm giving you a trainee."
Suddenly, the uneasiness made sense. The small girl that Sam had seen earlier stepped into view, smiling brightly. She appeared very… happy. This was not what Sam needed.
"A trainee, sir? What am I supposed to do with her?"
"She's got the code book; make her memorize it. Run the simulations until she's got them down and then take her in the field for a week or so. She's a fast learner, and I think you might like her. If she does well, you've got a brighter future for yourself here, Sam, and I've already upped your pay." Langdon paused, coughing slightly. "I, uh, heard about your heating troubles."
"You—oh, Tucker! I was supposed to do this on my own!" she said to the boy that wasn't there. Langdon smiled.
"He's just looking out for you, Manson, and he's right to. You're a tough lady, but everyone needs help now and again. Well, I'll leave you to it, then."
He hiked his belt and walked away, whistling softly. Sam gazed at the short, light-haired girl in front of her, who was still smiling. She turned and finished the trip to her desk. When she turned around, the girl was still there.
"And here I was hoping it was an early-morning nightmare."
"I'm Sandy! Sandy Manning. I understand you probably don't want me around, but I've always wanted to be a police officer and they say you're the best, so I guess I should be honored to work with you, and I promise I'll do my very best to be my very best, and I'll listen to everything you say, and—"
"First, stop talking. Second, you're right; I don't want you around. Third, lose the bubble. You need to be harder than that to be a cop, especially if you want to be a good one. Get some grit."
Sandy nodded and took out a notepad from her bag, beginning to scribble on it furiously. "Get… some… grit. Right! What's next?"
It had been a very long night… it was going to be an even longer morning.
Haha! That's the first installment, and though it's done, I'm not giving you the second installment until I've got at least ten reviews and five correct answers to the SagePoint! I know, I'm evil, but I love this one too much to not get feedback. Please, when you review, say something constructive!
SagePoint: This one is by Evanescence, and since this story is so long and Evanescence has so many songs, I'm giving you some extra clues. The bold section is the best place to find the info from the song, and the lyrics are kind of out of order for this one. Also, it's from the "Fallen" album. Remember, the name of the story is not the name of the song! Good luck!
