it took me a while, but by golly ive finally got it!
Sam was nearly certain that death was no parallel to the excruciating pain that seemed to breathe inside her being. Every muscle ached, every tendon seemed to be on fire and, to worsen this little problem, for the second time in a week she awoke to Tucker's face far too near her own. Naturally, she screamed in indignation, though he seemed to pay it no never mind.
He weaved a sewing needle through the air, a near invisible strand of thread following. "Aren't you a morning person?" He questioned wryly, reaching for her arm and watching in amusement as she prepared herself for some sort of pain. "It's just stitches, baby." He joked, gesturing to her already sewn knee.
"Danny?" She grunted, her throat irritatingly dry and sore. He glanced at her pityingly, patting her shoulder tensely.
"No, it's Tucker." He stated with arrogant deliberation, fully meriting the slap that she delivered without hesitation. "They retreated after we reloaded, thanks to you. It is pretty bad, now that he knows you're here. Things are only going to get worse." And with those words of encouragement, Sam stretched lazily, observing the practically empty facilities.
"Where's Jazz?" She realized the mistake in this inquiry the instant Tucker's eyes darkened furtively.
"Talking...with Dash. Stupid muscly-armed, flexed abs, tight thighed jerk." Sam's dark eyebrow raised slightly in confusion, her head still swimming.
"I'm confused, Tuck, are you jealous of Dash or Jazz?" This stab at humor was entirely unappreciated and was rewarded with a rather rough jab with the needle.
"Neither, I don't care. If Jazz is going to take him back every time he rears his pretty little bullying head, that's her problem." He stated bravely, though everything in his expression and previous behavior suggested otherwise.
"So what happened with the two of them? I'm feeling sort of fish-out-of-water here." He bristled at the mention of their former relationship and Sam almost regretted bringing it up, almost being the imperative word.
"It was a while before this whole thing started, and she was getting into ghost fighting and so was Dash, unfortunately. I wasn't here, but from what I've heard...they were together for a while. I don't know who dumped who, but I think that Jazz finally came to her senses." He stated stoically, as though attempting to sound confident.
Sam smiled, finally coming to her feet, alarmed by the Jello-like consistency of her leg muscles, melting to the ground within an instant. "Whoa!" She exclaimed, a hand enclosing over the side of the cafeteria table as her legs came out from underneath her.
Tucker looked bashful, lazily leaning over in an attempt to help her. "It's the anesthetic, forgot to tell you that it can cause temporary loss of muscle control." She supposed it could be worse though she couldn't quite see how.
"Thanks for the head's up, Tuck." She stated sarcastically, turning as Dash and Jazz entered the room, the former with his hand placed casually on the latter's shoulder. She shrugged him off, looking surprisingly unassuming without her jumpsuit.
"Glad to see you awake, Sam." She stated brightly, increasing her speed and leaving Dash behind and ignoring his indignation with ease. "Did Tuck sew you up?" She questioned, frowning at Sam's current position. "Oh, the anesthetic. You didn't warn her?" The blush in reply seemed to be all the answer she needed.
"I'm fine." She stated, locking her knees and attempting to retain some sort of posture, as well as dignity. "Anything happen while I was out?" The very conspicuous exchange of eye contact between Dash and Jazz and then Jazz and Tucker answered that. "Alright," she said more to herself than to anyone else. "I have to call Tim, don't kill each other." She forewarned, stumbling into the empty hallway, cell phone in hand.
She didn't even recall dialing the number when Tim's voice sounded on the other line, sobering her significantly. "I'm all right, I'm trying to resolve the issue and I've sent the job a few text messages." She informed him, hoping to alleviate any stress.
"I'm coming down." He informed her, as though tempting her resolve and independence.
"No!" She blurted spontaneously, eyes widening and horrified objection echoing throughout the empty hallways. He was startled into a suspicious silence, and Sam knew that she would pay for this dearly.
"What's going on, Sammy?" he asked cautiously, and she was well aware of the fact that this was about to become an incredibly colossal argument.
"A friend is having some...issues and h...she is about to get into some serious stuff soon, it could be...bad." She finished lamely, comprehending the incredible vagueness which surrounded this.
She could practically hear the gears going in his head, turning slowly. "I want you to get out of there, it can't be safe. If you don't leave...I'm coming to Amity Park, that's what it's called, right?" She gaped, her expression reminiscent of a fish.
"Don't do that. I can handle it, I'm not in any danger." Her knee stung guiltily, and she had never in her life felt so completely pathetic before.
"If you're not done in a week...I'm coming to help you." This was non-negotiable. "I'm worried about you, and doesn't that Davey guy you were in love with in high school live there? I don't trust him around you." He informed her with blunt perseverance that she knew all too well.
"We'll talk about this later, Tim, okay? This isn't up for discussion right now, and even if it was I owe a friend a favor, and I'm making good on a promise." But he was no longer there, he had hung up on her, something he had beaten her to.
"Oh, Sammy, problems with your love life?" The back of her neck prickled, that voice sending a discernible chill up and down her spine. In her weakened condition, Sam was in no position to outrun Danny Phantom.
Haha, I just cliffed ya! I worked hard on this chappie, so please, tell me what you think.