WAAAAAAAAAH! Yes...I started to cry when I wrote this...forgive me...

You know the disclaimer drill...

Danny gasped as he saw the face, quickly changing into his ghost form. "How…how did you get out of the thermos?" Danny managed as he staggered upright. Dan chuckled darkly, hands engulfed in green flame.

"I had help," was all he would offer as an answer. He quickly began to attack Danny, but Danny created a shield bubble over him before Dan could attack. Sam watched, her face contorted in shock.

Unknowingly, she had lured Danny into his own death trap. All because she didn't want to die. I'm so selfish, she thought numbly as she watched Danny fight. She cursed herself for not asking him to bring the thermos—how could they both be so stupid as to forget the thermos?—and she also cursed herself for ever listening to Vlad.

Dan laughed at Danny's weak attempts to block his blows. Dan was as good as Vlad, times ten; unbeatable, as far as Danny was concerned. The only reason he had beaten Dan before was surprise and the thermos. He didn't have the thermos on him now, and this time, Dan had the element of surprise under his belt.

Throwing an ecto-energy blast at Danny, Dan began to taunt him. "Even though you didn't cheat, I'm still here. What does that say?" Danny caught all of the ecto-energy blasts in his hand, causing the material of his costume to get eaten away near the hands.

The pale flesh shown through as he threw more and more blasts at Dan. They were almost Frisbee-like, and some sliced through Dan's costume—but only some.

"It says that you're just a mistake of nature," Danny grunted as he dodged a punch from Dan, but only to be caught from below—into the crotch—by a hard kick from Dan. Danny doubled over from pain and shock, clutching the sides of his stomach in pain. Dan laughed at his pain.

"No," Dan smirked. "It says that I'm not co-dependant on your existence. I'll still exist even if you're good and never become me…and even if you die."

Danny finally caught on that he was probably scheduled to die right then and there. Sam couldn't see a hint of worry in his facial expression, though; only a blind fury and a fierce desire to kill Dan. "I'm not dying today!" Danny roared as he punched Dan in the face.

Dan staggered back, shock consuming his body. An ectoplasmic ray shot from the darkness, square in Danny's face also. Danny flew backwards and into the brick wall. His body smashed into it, causing a dent to appear, one that would probably last forever. He grunted as he pulled himself away from the wall.

"No! It's me against Danny," Dan growled into the darkness. Danny hovered away from the wall and shot straight towards Dan, going intangible as he did so. Danny reached to punch Dan in the face again—but Dan caught it.

"Isn't it amazing what powers one gets after a little practice?" Dan said in an evilly cheerful voice. "When ghosts are intangible, I can see the faint outline of them. It may only be faint, but it's there." He grinned wickedly and smashed Danny into the ground, somehow solidifying him even though normally he would have sunk right through the ground.

Danny became tangible again as he lay on the concrete. His head had a huge gash in it from the impact of the hit, and it seeped through his white hair and dyed it an unnatural red that only screamed death.

Staggering up, Danny wiped the blood away from his face and eyes and glared at Dan angrily. "You're not going to kill me," Danny said thickly. He stopped for a moment and coughed sickly, blood spurting from his cracked lips. "Not today, at least," he told him sternly. "You're not going to get the satisfaction!"

Sam was frozen in her spot, unable to help. If she ran towards Dan, he'd go intangible—she knew that. And she couldn't help Danny at all. The other option was attack Vlad, but that wouldn't do any good either.

She was also considering just giving up her life to save Danny—but how much time would it buy him? Dan would throw a few meager punches, kill her, and go and kill Danny. No matter what she thought of, Danny's death was inevitable.

Dan smirked. "Don't sound so cocky," he said in mock-surprise, "you're making me feel as if I'm going to fail!"

Danny glared at him and tried to kick him in the chest, but the kick was so feeble Dan caught it once more. Danny couldn't summon the energy to fight against him as he was slammed ruthlessly into the concrete for a second time.

"Should I kill you quickly, and make it painless?" Dan mused, "or should I just leave you and let you and Sam trade loving remarks and let Sam suffer from your death also?"

"Don't…don't kill Sam," Danny choked out. A new gash appeared across his chest, a large rock lodged into it. He looked at it, obviously not really comprehending what it was. Sam wanted to rush to his side and find some way to help him, but she knew there was no way to help him. He was dying, and that was the end of that.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to kill your girlfriend," Dan sneered.

"You're…you're not going to kill me?" Sam blurted out. Dan turned to face her and winked.

"No. It's painful enough for you already—knowing you're the cause for his death, and having to live without him. It will be fun to watch you suffer this endless torment."

Dan quickly faded away, back into the darkness and also going intangible. Once Sam was sure her and Danny were alone, she went to his side and held his hands. "Oh goodness, Danny," she groaned as she saw his condition.

His hair, now stained dark red and the dye dripping down his cheeks, was matted across his face. His nose was caked with blood, as was his whole entire chest. Sam knew the rock was close enough to his heart that even if he were to survive the head injuries—an unlikely feat—the rock would kill him.

The white emblem was dark red, red, and a slight pink color. She sighed and raised a trembling hand to his face and rubbed off the blood from his face. "Oh, Danny," she moaned again. "Oh, Danny."

"Sam…don't worry," he told her, blood trickling from his lips. "I don't blame you." His green eyes flicked blue slightly, but faded back to green quickly. "I would never blame you."

"How can you not blame me?" Sam choked out, now letting the tears splash onto the black asphalt. Danny's lips curved into a calming smile. Sam knew only people at their deathbeds could ever be so…calm and…happy, even.

"You did what you thought you had to do," he told her. "I did that every day—fighting ghosts, I mean. I don't blame you one bit."

She brushed away his hair from his face, gently running her fingers against his feverish flesh. "I'm so sorry," she choked out. Danny managed to shake his head slightly, at least enough that Sam got the message. You worry too much.

"Don't be sorry," Danny told her sternly. "Just…tell my parents I'm sorry, and tell Jazz that too. I'm sorry I couldn't beat him…"

"Don't blame yourself, either," Sam sobbed. "Danny…please don't leave me…"

His smile warmed her heart and made her feel as if she wasn't responsible, but her heart screamed at her that she was to blame for his unnecessary and inevitable death. "Don't worry," he said in the weak voice that only belongs to the dying. "Just protect Amity Park from ghosts…and my parents…for me, okay?"

She nodded, tears raining down on his costume, seeping slowly though the material. "Anything," she sobbed silently. He looked down at himself with his last energy and nearly giggled.

"I'm a mess," he told her. "But I don't feel anything." Sam let her lips pull into a smile as she considered his words. But I don't feel anything. Well, at least he wasn't in pain…right? she thought dismally.

His smile remained plastered on his face as his eyes clouded over in the final stages of death. "…Sam?" he whispered. Sam knelt closer, holding his head in her weary hands. "I…I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back as she watched his eyes fade to the blank expression of death.

Suddenly, a ring of light appeared around his middle, and it slowly went up his whole entire body. Now he wore his jeans, and a blood-soaked white T-shirt. You could no longer see the blood through his already darkened hair, which Sam considered a blessing. He took in his last shuddering breath. She watched his chest rise, and then slowly fall. She also saw his feeble attempts at breaths, but none succeeded.

Sam sat and watched him slowly die, his body going limp in her grasping hands. She knew there was nothing she could do to help him now. She gently rested her lips on his lips as she leaned over to pick up the body.

He's heavier than I thought, she thought inwardly as she staggered out of the alleyway. Oh God, what am I going to tell everyone? "Hey, everyone, I was just watching a ghost fight my best friend and I watched him kill him?" No!

Sam finally settled on she saw his shoe in the gloom of the alleyway, came to investigate, and found his corpse. She would get interviewed, for sure, but she wasn't worried about that.

Running into the mall, screaming, her eyes welling with tears again, she was more worried about Danny than anything else.

I sat and watched him die, replayed numbly in her mind. I sat and watched my best friend die. And I didn't do anything to stop it. I probably could have helped—

—no! Don't torture yourself with that. You couldn't have helped. He was past help.

She clutched to his corpse as the police tried to pry it from her hands. She screamed at them that she didn't want to; she wanted to keep holding him. She knew he'd come back to life if she just hugged him long enough.

Finally they pried him away from her, saying that if she didn't let go, they'd never be able to find out who the killer was. Too bad for Sam, she knew that the DNA would never show up on his body—a ghost doesn't have DNA, and even so, it would look like Danny gave himself those wounds.

She watched as they took him away in the ambulance, the lights unblinking. There was no emergency.

The patient was already dead.