Part One: Dark Eyes


Chapter Seven: Soft Touch


He didn't become invisible and then intangible. He usually did so around Sam, for he liked to surprise her and try to catch her in some sort of compromising position, but that wasn't the case now. He felt that his invasion on her privacy wouldn't be as funny as it had been before and result in a more serious manner then he would expect, and so he landed heavily on the balcony, making sure to cause noise so she'd know he was there. She still didn't turn around, only left the room and went to her walk in closet, all at a leisurely pace.

That was strange. Why was she acting so…herself? He knew she was good at concealing emotion, but he didn't expect her to be so calm.

"If you stand out there any longer, I will call the police and tell them I have a peeping Tom problem."

He phased through the closed glass doors, cautiously, as if he might be going into a trap. Music was softly playing in the back round; the sounds of one of Sam's J-Rock bands, Glay, white noise for him. Clothes were flying out of the closet at a high speed, allowing him to only see a few things: a black mini skirt, cargo pants, an old pair of combat boots, and something silky that hit Danny right in the face. To his horror (or was it perverted glee?), after peeling the item off of him, he saw that it was one of her bras. Hmmm…what size was this? Before he could check, Sam came out of the closet. He dropped the piece of lingerie before she could notice.

The change came over him, and he was back to his natural, clumsy, but charming form. And, that was probably for the best. She saw him and smiled softly; however, the smile didn't reach her eyes. He smiled back, desperately trying to control the heat rising to his face. He knew that Sam might be a little…different after the whole encounter, but this…he had been thinking she'd be…sulking. The last thing he expected her to be was, well, outgoing. At least, outgoing was what the outfit was saying. She was no longer wearing her usual tank top, skirt, and combat boots. She wore a small tube top that hugged her body, a dark purple, her breasts pushed to the top. She had a black mini skirt that was so short that if she sat down wrong, he'd find out if she was wearing underwear or not, with her old combat boots, and purple socks. Black, fingerless gloves that went up to her elbows adorned her, and her attitude said to basically "bring it."

"You never seen a girl in clothes before?" she asked challengingly. She flopped down on her bed and grabbed the remote at hand. The high definition TV, with just a press of a button, came out from its hiding place in the ceiling and lowered so that one could watch entertainment from the comfort of a bed, but she didn't turn it on. He sat down next to her, slightly cautious, no, not slightly cautious, very cautious because flopping down had caused her skirt to ride up and to his relief (or was it disappointment?) that she was indeed wearing underwear. But, more then anything, he wanted to tear off the gloves, look at the pale skin on the length of her arms, and see that the strange dream or a strange hallucination or whatever he had was just that...not real. He prayed for no red mark across her flesh. She caught him staring. "What? What are you looking at?"

His eyes were so full of love, but so very sad. Her attitude halted for a moment and it seemed as if her personality was unsure of itself, and she sat up, slightly confused Sam, the real Sam, was back. She wasn't the Sam that had finally broken but she was the Sam unsure of her identity, the one who fought against society norms. She was the sweet young woman who went through life and questioned anything and everything. He reached out and stroked her face, and she flinched slightly, as if scared, but in actuality was only unsure. However, his hand didn't move, there was no disappointment on his face, and she fell back into his comforting touch. His other arm pulled her closer to him so that she was directly in front of him, their faces inches from each other. His eyes were half closed, his beautiful blueness unreadable. Her mouth opened and closed several times, each movement closer and closer to his lips. It was as if she had to have some part of him, a strange sense of desperation.

She kissed him, softly, but as if she was hungry for something, and that hunger seemed to grow; however, he didn't respond. He was unmoving and she stopped, her lips still resting on his. Her breath shuddered softly. She slowly pulled away, looked off. She was suddenly uncomfortable, confused. She could have sworn that Danny would go for her, and this made her feel that she might be unworthy of his affections. And feeling unworthy of Danny made her feel dirty, sullied. Did he not want her because someone else had gotten to her? Was Shade right? No, please, he couldn't be right, because if he was, that meant he would be winning.

"Movie time," she was able to get out. Her mask was on in a second: no clear emotions. With her mask, it always seemed as if she was on the point of boredom, but nothing else was given. "I don't know if there's anything good to watch or not."

"Sam," he whispered, like he was sorry for her. She shook her head slightly, as if she wouldn't have, couldn't have it. She hated pity used on her, like it was some sort of disease. It always felt like a weakness to her, even is she would feel pity for someone.

"I sort of feel like watching something cool. How about Sin City? Yeah, that's great." She was babbling. She did that every time she wanted to scream in frustration or was nervous. "I have it in anyways and I don't have anything else. Well…what about The Crow or Blood: The Last Vampire? I like those two a lot. What do you think?"

He rolled her over so that she was lying on her back. He set himself on top of her, burying his head by her neck. She let out a soft sigh, barely audible, but he heard it pass through her throat, and placed a very soft kiss on her skin. She let out another sigh, this one just a bit louder. "I don't want to watch anything, Sam," he answered. "I just want to be with you." His hands trailed up and down her body, just along the sides, so light, so soft. Her eyes fluttered close. His fingers pulled her socks down and then his head went down, kissing each leg, starting from the bottom, going no higher than the shins. She let out yet another sigh, this one sounding slightly happy. "Just you…" Her stomach, just a few quick kisses there. A draw in of breath from her...And then, he tore her fingerless gloves off of her, his intention all along, and it was too late to realize what he was looking for when he found it. And there it was, the angry mark, marring the perfect, white skin. The moment was gone instantly, any feelings of passion dashed away, now replaced with fear, sadness, confusion. "It was true," he whispered. She felt shame course through her. "Oh Sam…why did you do such a terrible thing to yourself? Why?"

Here mouth opened and closed, yet nothing but air came out. No comprehensible words were produced. She pulled away from him, her eyes tearing up, unable to cope with it. "I…I did it because…I…" Her breathing was in large gulps. Was it possible for her to hyperventilate? "I…I c-can't…I just can't…handle it anymore…"

"And that's when I step in, when you can't handle anything. I didn't mean to overreact, but I'm over it." He cradled her small form against his chest, wonderful protection, wonderfully caring. "I'm here for you Sam. If something's too hard to take on, I'm supposed to come in and take care of it for you. That's what a friend is for, and I can assure you that Tucker would also do anything in his power to stop you from hurting." He held the sullied wrist, his gaze still soft. "This…this isn't the answer, no matter what you feel like. This is too destructive. This is horrible." He grabbed both of her hands, made her look him in the eyes, and yet again twilight met the skies, yet this time the skies had cleared, clarity so much more, and she was lost in his gaze. "Promise me…" The skies clouded again and outside, as if to accentuate the importance, there was a low rumble of thunder. "Promise me that you won't do this again. Never…"

"Never," she whispered. Her gaze became determined and she nodded slightly, the nod very strong. "Never. I'll never do it again. Promise. I swear…" He hugged her tightly. "But…you promise to help me, right?" She buried her head into him. "He's just…so strong. At first, I thought they were dreams, but then it came more and more, and then I woke up with bruises around my neck one time. They were from his hands, I was so sure of it. He says he loved me, but he hurts me when I don't do what he wants me to." Danny's grip didn't get any tighter and she was grateful that he was staying so calm. He was nothing like Shade. She needed to remember that and hold it close to her heart for dark times ahead. "How do I get rid of someone who wants me like that and rules my dreams?" Her hands gripped the material of his t-shirt, clenching so hard. "What does stop you from going mad? What stops you from wanting to just die?"

"I kill him."


It was after almost an hour of silence that they began to move and talk, light conversation to hide the tension, but thankfully that tension was fast fading. And even though Sam didn't say much, Danny didn't really care, because he would bring up small incidents that happened a long time ago: Sam trying to save the frogs, Danny challenging Dash to who could make the best haunted house, Tucker conquering his fear of the doctor's, all of this to comfort Sam.

Pictures…they went through a shoebox full of them. Every picture included at least two or three of them in it. They were most smiling in every one. Some were actually failed attempts to block the camera from capturing embarrassment. There were a few where they were asleep, but all of it was such happiness. Sam had gotten so many pictures of Danny and Tucker: the two locked in a fierce round of Halo 2, Danny grinning at the camera and holding a distressed Tucker in a headlock, Tucker pulling a prank on Danny, Danny and Tucker hugging each other in their sleep (her favorite blackmail picture to date). There were more: all three of them at a dance or two, shots of them swimming, gorging on pizza, a game of poker, and the favorite pose where each of them did something ridiculous. She had kept them all, all through the years and saved them for times like these, when she felt like going through them, just to have a laugh, to remember for the sake of remembering, one of the last defenses before all of them might break, the hope that made them want to pull through.

"I can't believe that you wore Tucker's hat," Danny laughed.

"I wasn't exactly wearing it," she replied. "If you look a little closer, you can see that he's shoving it on me."

She smiled and fell back on the pillow, her eyes half closed. She tried to hold a yawn, but it escaped anyways, a small O. Her eyes opened and closed, but he could see there was a slight worry in what part of her was awake. He lay beside her, his head propped up with his hand, and he stroked her hair, his way of letting her know that he was there to comfort her when she woke up, that everything would be okay. There was still worry in her eyes, but just a bit of faith.

"If you're going to win, you need energy and that involves sleeping." He pulled her closer to him and she snuggled up against his body, enjoying the last bit of warmth she would experience before falling into the shadow world that haunted her. Each time she blinked, reality became hazier, darker, more impending. She hung onto his shirt as if it were the most important thing to her, and maybe it was, for it was part of Danny and he promised to protect her. "Do you want me to come with you again?" She shook her head quickly. His brow furrowed slightly. "Why not?"

She could barely get the words out she was so tired. "I don't want you getting hurt right now. I just want you to be here when I wake up." He nodded, disappointed, but he would do as he was told. Sam was his everything. "Thank you."

Her world became hazy, shores of black sleep creeping closer and closer.

Open.

Close.

Open.

Close.

And then it came. He held her, praying that she would wake up sane.

Outside, lightening flared and thunder rolled. The rain came down.

Crimson was the color of a drop that hit the window pane, and slowly slid down, but it was lost to Danny. Everything was lost to him, for his whole world was just out of his reach, sleeping soundly, lost in the shadows.


"A toast, my dear." A table was laid out before her, an amazing feast, and there he was, dressed as a nobleman. He was donned with a magnificent white shirt, lace spilling around his hands. A black coat, tailored to fit him, was over it. There was a ring on his right hand, antique, and was a shining green, the green to match his eyes. His hair was pulled over to the side, the nobleman's look enhanced. A length of black silk was tied around his neck, an emerald S on it. He gave a confident smile, raising his champagne glass high. "I must say you're looking quite beautiful tonight."

She looked to her left, and saw her image in the mirror. It was a long dress of black and purple silk, with a tight fitting, strapless top, and flared out at the waist. Her hair was curled, softly framing her face, some of it held back with a purple bow. There was a matching purple necklace with a large locket on it.

She looked back to him, to see that he was still smiling, holding his glass high. She grabbed her own, bringing it up.

"I hide in the shadows of lies, of self doubt and darkness," she said softly. Her eyes widened slightly. Where did that come from? Why did she say that?

"Yet seeing her gives me never ending bliss," he replied, speaking right by her ear, suddenly at her side. His glass clinked lightly with hers, a small chime, and bubbles rising from bottom to top in the smooth liquid. His breath was warm and inviting, lips touching to her cheek. Why was it that everything seemed so peaceful, so romantic? Where was the violence in all of this, the violence that up until now had been the main point of her nightmares. This was…not frightening, even pleasant. Why? "Oh kitty," he whispered, "all your questions will be answered if you let me show my love." Her chair was gone and she was now standing. Music was softly playing, a mournful tune that made her feel like weeping, yet it was still beautiful. There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned around to see that he was standing slightly bowed, left arm behind his back, right held out in offering. There was a slight smile on his face, a knowing sense about him. "Would you honor me with a dance?"

She took a breath in, lightly so, and then nodded. She lightly placed her hand in his and he led her to a dance floor, bright and lonely. His hand on her wais, hers on his shoulder, and the remaining for each of them intertwined with each other. And then, they were moving around on the floor in large, flowing circles, both moving like water, their bodies fitting perfectly together. He was strong, but gentle, leading the way, and she was lost in his arms, lost in all of him.

On and on they danced, and she lost track of time. Everything was irrelevant at the moment, save for the moment itself. Past, future, any rational thinking was gone, far, far away, just like reality was, just like Danny was. She was here, in this now, in this dream, dancing with this man who had done horrible things to her, said horrible things to her, and she was still dancing with him. She was not afraid, not terrified, not angry, just intrigued. For all the nightmares, for everything that happened, she was still intrigued by this man called Shade, one who would not take his own form, but took that of his creator's, the one he had once been part of, a darkness that lay within. For some reason, she was drawn to him, her soul reaching out to him.

The music's tempo became livelier, and their steps became faster. He looked into her eyes and she did not see the shell of Danny Phantom anymore in his eyes. They were his own; an amazing dark green, brilliant gold flecks held within their depths. She saw the intelligence, the stubbornness, the determination, the strength, the obsession held within those eyes. It was a completely different person and she now realized that, but then she remembered that he had once been a part of Danny, the dark desires, the deeps sins, the side that was never supposed to be, but was actual.

The music went on and they danced, never tiring. Round and round the floor they went and there was no end in sight. Everything around the room seemed to become one continual blur. Time came to a halt, only their steps and the music moving on. And even as that happened, Sam became unaware of those two things, and was then lost in his eyes.

"My Sam," he whispered hotly. "Let me be with you for once. None of this violent shit." The music was gone, the twirling round and round replaced with standing still. His mouth inches from her skin, drinking in her scent, sending Goosebumps down her arms. She gulped down the lump forming in her throat. Tears pricked at her eyes because of the decision she knew she'd make. "Be with me one time and I'll show you what I really am." He held her hands in his. Why was this so hard? How could she deny him when he had confessed that he loved her? She knew he did even though he was violent, possessive, and very obsessive. She knew that he was dangerous but her soul called out to him. What was this ache she felt deep in her heart? "And if you still hate me, I'll disappear. I can't be without you. It's as simple as that."

Her breathing stopped and the ache in her heart doubled. She knew how to kill him. She knew that she could be rid of him, no more wanting to hurt herself, no sleepless nights, could return everything to normal. She could be at peace. All she had to do was give her self to him once, just once.

She knew that wouldn't happen.

As she nodded her head and found herself on the bed that magically appeared, she knew that couldn't happen.

He kissed her softly, pouring himself into it, and she gave herself to him. She pulled him to her and he embraced her. The soft kisses gave way to soft touches, and then gave way to a harder kiss that left them both breathless. The soft touches became desperate tugs and pulls at clothing, ripping them off, but it didn't matter anymore because they would never wear them again anyways. Such passion that had been held back was now out. Sam had resisted because she had thought him a rapist, an evil creature, but the more she met him, the more it was increasingly clear that there was no black and white, only gray. The more she met him the more she realized that he wasn't so easy to deny. And now, there was no resistance. Both were giving themselves completely in both body and soul. It would be no other way.

And that was why she knew she couldn't kill him.

Sam Manson was falling in love.

It may have been sick and twisted, but she was falling in love.

She may have been full of sin, but at the moment, she was one of the happiest lambs in the world, her soul satisfied, not wandering or crying anymore. She became one with him and was changed, the ache in her heart lessening. And after it was all done, she lay there in his arms, slightly damp, breathing heavily. She felt his warmth, his fingers lightly running up and down her skin, and she realized that she was truly falling in love.

She was falling in love with someone who wasn't Danny.

There was no way to stop it. She didn't want it to.


In the darkness of the room, there came a light, suddenly, brilliantly. He turned his head to see that her computer had, without warning, come to life. As he studied it, he realized that words were appearing on the screen, even though the keyboard wasn't being used and he or Sam clearly had never turned on the computer. Slowly, he made his way over until he could read the blinding screen.

As the words registered in his mind, he became confused and angry.

The object of my affection

This was so familiar, so horribly familiar. He didn't want to see this, to read it, but he had to. He knew this was important and it was already tearing him apart.

is the object of my obsession.

There was a sinking in the pit of his stomach. Something had happened or was happening, something that was very important and he might have lost it without even knowing what it was. Did it have something to do with Sam? Of course, it had to. It was almost as if everything was revolving around her, so did that mean he might have actually lost her? Quickly turning around, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw her chest fall and rise in a slow rhythm, the rhythm of sleep. For a split second, he had the most horrible thought that she might have left her body. But still, he still had the feeling of loss. What was it then? It was such a heart wrenching feeling that it felt as if tears could easily come to his eyes.

She looks at me, but doesn't see my eyes.

It was all starting to make sense. It was almost like they had been given such an obvious answer, but they were still too stupid to see it. He had been so fucking stupid! Why? Why had he been blind? And now, even though he saw it all, he felt it was too late. Whatever he had lost, it might never come back.

I hide in the shadows of lies,

Shadows of lies…did that mean that Shade had been part of all those lies Danny had told in the past? How was it that Shade took a physical form? How could he be defeated? Could he even be taken down?

of self-doubt and darkness.

The words were coming up by themselves. How was he doing this?

Yet seeing her gives me never ending bliss.

Fuck that bastard! Fuck that bastard! He was going to die and that was all there was to it!

He placed his hands on the keyboard and typed furiously: Who the hell do you think you are!

The reply: I am your sin, your desires, everything that you rejected, a darkness that you didn't want. But now, I am my own, with my thoughts, my feelings, my obsessions. You will lose her Danny Fenton. I love her. She is what I live for and always will.

You're a sick son-of-a-bitch. She doesn't want you. She wants to get rid of you because she's going fucking crazy. He was furious, his hands pounding at the keyboard. He wanted to destroy the computer. Did he also annoy Sam in this manner? Did he talk to her all the time? Did she talk back to him? What did they talk about? Those dreams she had been having…what had she been doing with him all along? How the hell had this all started and when the hell would it stop?

We shall see within the next few days, Danny Fenton, we shall see.

I'm gonna fucking kill you!

Goodbye.

And the computer screen went blank.


End Chapter


Author's Notes: Okay, just kick me right now. I deserve it for not updating so long. I tried my best, so I hope this chapter made up for all the time in between. It's tournament time, so I've been ridiculously busy with basketball. There's a chance to go to state! Oh yeah! Just keep your fingers crossed for us to make it! And there's prom coming and speech and all kinds of things! In the meantime, I'll try my best to hurry and put out another chapter. However, we all know that lots and lots of reviews would make me type even faster! Any questions should be sent as a PM and I don't mind any criticism if you have any. However, I looovveee reviews! Okay, I'll stop my rambling now. Reviews! Till next time. Ciao.