I spent my Sunday trying to illustrate a scene from an upcoming chapter of this fic. The results were so abysmal I was almost too depressed to continue writing, but here I am anyway, because this story is devouring my soul. XP I hope I'm not posting these too fast - I've found that when the urge to write calls, I'd better do it, or the story will lose its steam! So, here's chapter 4, despite chapter 3 still being on the second page of stories in the category. u.u;
And, more shout-outs. Hey, why not?
Soni - Thank you! Hope you keep reading!
Kagome M.K. - As you have wished it, so shall it be...
Ohka Breynekai - Thanks! I don't usually do a lot of alternate universe stuff (these days), so it's nice to hear that this attempt is panning out well.
katiesparks - Ow, poor Danny. But who says I'm going to pay him for this? XD
Phantomgirl040304 - Way ahead of you there; Sam was a little more expletive in that scene than I am usually inclined to write her, because she has a lot of pent-up anger and not a lot of ways to express it. She's quite calm now thanks to Danny. (Keep in mind too that this is an alternate universe version of Sam, of course!) Though, I don't usually tend to censor my writing on the basis that someone might stop reading because of a cuss word; I stopped trying to please -everyone- quite a long time ago. Still, thanks for your comments, and I may edit chapter 3 a bit later. :)
chocolatemercury - And you're so good about keeping me encouraged! Thanks so much for your kind reviews. :) As for why it's Phantom and not Fenton...all shall be revealed eventually!
not important - I'm really glad you think so! Thanks!
mrit - Bwahaha. What do you mean by "this type"? XD Danny Phantom? Danny/Sam? Or the super-emo-fest dialogue I've been spitting out?
Fanficaholic - Well...I will, then :D
Ice-Song - What a coincidence, Giroro's my favourite too. :P Keroro Gunso just seems to me like the kind of manga Sam would find amusing.
L'ange-sans-Ailes - Thanks very much, and here you go!
Thanks again for reading, everyone! Please enjoy chapter 4!
Estrelas
Chapter 4
by Shimegami-chan
Sam tried to conceal her reaction, both her shock at his appearance - if he wasn't a ghost, I might have even thought he was attractive - and revulsion that she could even think such a thing. He was a ghost, he was a monster.
But...he was pretty cute.
"You're...so young." she finally managed to say, inspecting him carefully.
"I guess so. Seventeen, or at least I used to be."
"I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
"I don't know." She wasn't entirely certain why she kept apologizing to the spook. "I guess that you died before you got a chance to experience much life."
"You don't need to apologize for that," he told her, tipping his head to one side, still resting his chin in one palm. He blinked, and Sam seemed to experience it in slow motion, the green orbs of his eyes disappearing for a split second before returning to focus on her. She hated to admit it, but they weren't as malevolent and frightening as she might have expected a ghost's eyes to be. "So...do I scare you, or what?"
"What?" Sharply she drew in a breath, sitting up straighter.
"The usual reaction I get is 'Ohmygod, help, it's a ghost!', you know? At some point I just stopped becoming visible altogether. So do I scare you? Make you want to run away screaming?"
"No, no," she assured him, waving her hands in a negative motion. "It just surprised me. I had pictured you a little more...uh..."
"Horrendous."
"Well...yes."
"See, that's what I don't get." Danny flopped backward in the chair, and to Sam's shock sent a plume of dust flying from underneath his ethereal body. The plastic covering on the armchair rustled slightly. "So I glow a little, and I've got a bit less mass than your average person. But whenever I try to make contact with anyone I always end up being chased down by some ghost hunter. Is it because I can fly? Because I died? Why's there some kind of rule that dictates once you're dead you can't come back?"
"How did you do that? You weren't doing that before." Sam gestured at him with one hand.
"What?" He looked down at himself. "You mean disturbing the furniture?"
"Yeah."
"I could have done that before, but I didn't think you'd appreciate it when I was invisible." He patted the arm of the chair. "All it takes is a tiny bit of concentration for me to become completely solid. I haven't done it in years and years, but I guess it's something we don't forget."
Sam couldn't stop herself from being interested from what ghosts, specifically this one, could do. "So you can fly, too? I noticed you have, uh, legs."
"Optional," Danny replied, and immediately his legs faded into a sort of wispy, translucent tail. After a moment, he made them reappear. "But I prefer them when I'm solid."
"What else can you do?"
"The usual ghostly stuff. Translucency, invisibility, passing through solid objects, wailing - trust me, you don't want to hear that one - releasing energy from my hands, duplication...I can split myself into four separate, realistic Dannys."
"That's really cool," Sam replied honestly.
He blushed. "I'm glad you think so. Like I said, people don't seem to take to me very well."
"Do you ever...try to scare people on purpose?"
"Nah." He turned his gaze to the side and frowned. "I don't really remember the first little while after I died very well...I'm not sure why. I guess once you stack a few dozen years on top of something like that, you start to forget, or maybe it's just something about being a ghost. But I don't think I would have tried to scare anyone. I've been in this attic since before I can remember, and I don't recall what caused me to haunt this place in particular."
"That's so strange." Sam couldn't stop herself from saying so, even though she didn't want Danny to take it the wrong way. "Do you remember anything about your life?"
"Not really," he confessed. "My name, my age...I remember bits and pieces here and there."
"I think I saw a ghost movie like that once," she told him.
"Probably, it's a pretty common thing for stranded spirits to be a little bit messed up in the head. I...don't even know how long I've been dead for. Don't remember what I used to look like, though I recall hating looking in mirrors after I became a ghost."
Sam laughed. "I guess that old myth about ghosts not being able to see their reflections is just that, a myth."
"Isn't that vampires?" Danny laughed too, and it startled Sam how at ease he looked. If it wasn't for that faint glow and the unnatural colour of his eyes, she could easily mistake him for a human. Her heart began to beat a little faster, but she didn't want to admit to herself why that could be. He met her gaze steadily and grinned, causing her to smile in return, and at the same time fight back a furious blush.
"Samantha! Are you up there? Come down, please." Grandma Manson's voice drifted through the hatch, a note of urgency in her tone. The moment broken, Sam leapt to her feet and let the quilt fall back onto the sofa. Danny also stood with an audible sigh.
"Listen," she told him hurriedly, one fist still clenched around the fabric of the blanket. "It was really nice talking to you. You made me feel a lot better, and I really do want to...find out more about you."
Danny shrugged. "Well, I'm not going anywhere."
"Good." She smiled at him, hoping to bring back the happy expression he'd been wearing a moment before. She succeeded - he blushed again and looked at the floor, clasping his hands together behind his back like a shy child. Am I supposed to find that flattering? Am I losing my mind? Sam thought to herself. He's a ghost, ghost, ghost, ghost ghost ghostghostghost! Come ON, Sam!
hope he doesn't think I'm trying to flirt with him.
"So I'll see you again?" he asked hopefully.
"Yeah. I'll come back up and visit next time I get a chance, okay?"
"Okay." He stepped aside as she made her way back to the attic hatch, boots clomping heavily on the thin floorboards. "Don't worry about the light, I'll get it."
"Thank you." She grabbed the railing and walked down the steps until only her head and shoulders were visible from where the ghost was standing.
"No, thank you." He paused. "Take care, Sam."
"You too, Danny." She smiled fleetingly and disappeared from his view, touching down on the thick white carpet of the hallway. Above her head, she sensed the light wink out, just as he'd promised. Anticipating her grandmother's voice calling out to her again, Sam quickly hoisted the stairs back up and closed the hatch before heading down to the main floor.
Grandma Manson was in the porch, wrapped in a shawl, holding her purse in both hands. "Oh, there you are, child. I was worried when I realized you weren't in your room."
"Sorry about that," Sam apologized.
"I was just going out to run some errands, would you like to come with me? I'm sure you could use a bit of exercise."
"Sure." Sam pushed her long sleeves back as far as her elbows and shook her hair away from her face. To her dismay, the dust from the attic was thick and very visible on her black clothes. She supposed it would brush or wear off eventually. Pulling the door closed, she followed her grandmother out to the little black car, and got in on the passenger's side.
Ida started the engine and flipped on the air conditioner, but didn't reach for the radio to turn on her favourite easy listening station, which was Sam's first clue that she wasn't just being invited along to get some air. Predictably, as soon as they had backed out of the driveway and were on the road to the shopping plaza, her grandmother brought up the subject Sam was dreading. "How was your discussion with that Penelope woman?"
"Er. I guess it could have been better." Turning her attention to the scenery outside the window, Sam glowered at the mention of her visitor. "She was pretty rude."
"What did you talk about?"
"Mostly just all the terrible things Mom told her about me," Sam replied, but there was no bitterness in her voice this time. For some reason, talking to Danny had calmed her so much that his influence was continuing to keep her rational. "School, social life, mono, all that."
"I called your father after that woman sent me out of the kitchen. He seemed to think that she'd be a great help to you," Grandma said quietly, keeping focused on her driving. "But I heard you crying in your room, when I was on the phone."
"Yeah, Like I said, she wasn't much of a help," Sam replied, still absolutely calm.
"Your father told me she was a psychiatrist."
"She's what?" Finally jarred, the teenager tore her gaze away from the window and looked at her grandmother in shock.
Grandma frowned and narrowed her eyes. "She's a high school therapist with a degree in psychiatry. Your mother seems to think that talking to someone who can help you get back on track for September is important for your recovery."
"Well, it's not going to be of any use. There's nothing wrong with my head."
"Yes...while we're on that subject, I wanted to ask you about something." Grandma pursed her lips, not taking her eyes off the road. "Who were you talking to, in the attic?"
Sam's breath caught in her throat. The idea of lying to her grandmother made her sick to her stomach, but if anyone found out about the ghost, he'd be exorcised in a heartbeat...and she'd promised that she would tell no one. Plus, she was becoming more and more willing to admit that she didn't want Danny to leave the house. "Ah...I was on my cell phone."
"Didn't you leave that in your room?"
Her stomach slowly turning to ice, Sam put a hand to the pocket of her black jeans, finding it empty. She had left the phone on her dresser when she'd gone to talk to Penelope. "Uh..."
"It was ringing while you were upstairs," the elderly woman said matter-of-factly. She didn't speak again as she made a right turn into the plaza parking lot, guiding the car into a space directly outside of the market. In the passenger seat, Sam clenched her teeth and looked out the window, feeling that the nervous seconds passing in silence were more like hours. "Well, we'll have to talk about it later. I have to pick up just a few things, so do you mind busying yourself around here?"
"No problem," Sam said, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears. They both disembarked and Ida went into the market, waving at the teen over her shoulder. Sam merely slumped against the car and exhaled heavily. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You probably hurt her feelings, trying to cover for that ghost!
But she couldn't just allow something to happen to him. He'd tried to help her, had listened to her outpouring, offered support, given her a blanket and his sympathy despite the fact that her problems were so insignificant compared to his...and as much as she was trying to tell herself otherwise, she wanted to get to know him. Maybe she even liked him.
As a friend, of course.
There was still so much about him that she didn't know, Sam thought, idly wandering away from the car and pausing to look in the window of the nearest shop, a bookstore. The display window was filled with hardcover novels, handmade jewellery and Chinese brocade pillows. In the centre of the arrangement was a collection of literature of all shapes and sizes, proudly heralded on the overhanging sign as the products of 'Local Authors.' Sam turned her back on the display and leaned against the glass, still thinking about Danny. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different and special about him, something that set him apart from all those ghosts in campfire stories. Certainly those types of spooks existed, because they had been terrorizing this town for centuries...but Danny...Danny was different; he seemed so friendly and human that most of Sam's initial fright and revulsion with him had completely melted away. Still, she wasn't sure how much she trusted him. Wasn't it a proven fact that ghosts were dangerous? He himself had told Sam about all the harmful things he could do, shooting energy from his hands, and that wail he'd mentioned...no matter how much she was inclined to like him, Sam told herself that Danny's motives might not all be harmless. It wouldn't be the first time that a ghost had tricked a human and gained their trust in order to do something mischievous. She couldn't think of any examples of such a thing, but memories of episodes of Are You Afraid of the Dark? reruns from when she was five lingered in the back of her mind. People used to get trapped in mirrors or possessed by paranormal beings on TV all the time when she was young, she remembered.
Sam was also still a bit embarrassed by the reaction Danny's appearance had caused within her. She didn't want to admit that she was even the tiniest bit attracted to the spook, but he'd made her blush, and that wasn't normal for her. Even thinking about the way he had looked when he was leaned forward in that armchair, listening to her speak with seemingly genuine interest, caused Sam's heart to jump a bit.
Even if he turns out to be harmless, that means nothing, Sam told herself, turning to look in the window again. Nobody dates a ghost. There's no future in that kind of relationship. But...I guess it wouldn't hurt to have him as a friend, at least until I go back to Whipstaff.
A book in the centre of the display suddenly caught her eye, distracting Sam from her thoughts. It was a large tome with a burgundy hardcover, done up to look somewhat like an encyclopaedia. On the front, the words 'Legends of Amity Park' were written in scripted gold letters, accompanied by a photo of the sign that stood outside the city limits to welcome visitors.
I wonder...could that book help me learn about the local hauntings? Maybe Danny's in there somewhere. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder at the market doors, Sam ducked into the bookstore, wincing at the loud jingling of bells that accompanied the door opening and closing. The place was small and empty of other patrons, obviously a local store, and the grey-haired clerk did not so much as look up as Sam entered. Quietly she made her way around the shelf beside the entrance and went to the non-fiction section, where Legends of Amity Park sat on its clear plastic display. She looked around, but no other copies of the book were immediately visible, so she hefted the large volume directly out of the window and sat down on a padded bench beside the sci-fi novels.
Opening the book, Sam could tell immediately that it was just what she was looking for. There was an index on the first page, listing an introduction and several preliminary chapters, as well as a large section called "Ghost Data" that had over three dozen subsections, detailing specific events and hauntings. When she flipped through a few random pages, she recognized names of well-known ghosts from fleeting glimpses of the local newspaper, and to her surprise, even a mention of the Box Ghost. "This is great!" Sam said out loud, thankful that she was carrying a small amount of cash in her pocket. Standing, she brought the volume to the counter and deposited it in front of the clerk. "This one was in the window, is that okay?"
"It's the last one," the woman said in a nasally voice. "That'll be eleven-fifty."
Sam handed her a twenty-dollar-bill and allowed the purchase to be placed in a brown paper bag. She shoved the change in her pocket and left the store with the bag in hand, nodding thanks to the clerk, who was already focusing her attention on her magazine. After the door shut and the sound of the bells muffled, Sam leaned against it, clutching the package to her chest.
This book...maybe this book can help me understand him.
-to be continued...
A/N: I haven't heard complaints about my spelling yet, but indeed, my writing is peppered with Canadian references and English. Hope no one minds. XP Also clocking in at three Casper references now...I should keep a tally.