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Disclaimer: I do not own Danny, Sam, Tucker, or Vlad. The three belong to Butch Hartman.
I do not own the band AFI; I do not own the band MCR; I do not own the band Linkin Park; I do not own the band Blaqk Audio; I do not own the band the Used; I do not own the band Rise Against.
Some ideas in this story were taken from Glamorous(insertunderscorehere)death, a member of the website from her story "Will You Cry for me?...or Will you cry with me?"
I do, however, own most of the plot to this fanfiction. IF SOMEONE STEALS IT I WILL EAT THEM.

Warning (so you guys don't eat my brain): DANNY FENTON AND SAM MANSON ARE ALTERED IN THIS FANFICTION. SAM IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN DANNY; DANNY GOT HIS POWERS AT AGE TEN. If you do not want to read a fanfiction that is not "true" to the series, then please, do not read this. I'm sorry, but in order to make the fanfiction work, they had to be seperate ages. Once again...Danny and Sam are different ages; this fanfiction does not correspond whatsoever with the actual series.

This fanfiction is a work of fiction that came from the screwed up hole I call a brain. It is flufftastical, romantic, terribly tragic, and using the characters and most of their family history/backgrounds as bases. Thank you for understanding!

YAYA

-Sam's POV-

I threw myself upon my bed and sobbed. I had accidentally stumbled into Danny's room, already accustomed to returning to his room instead of my own, and was weakened by the utter blankness. None of his aura remained in there; posters were gone, no clothes sprawled around. It was all I could do to drag myself away from the room and into my own room.

Gagging, I pressed his shirt into my face (I had changed into a tank top so I could hold his shirt) and inhaled his scent. Musky, but not in a cologne or deodorant way; it was his smell, his unique scent. Tears leaked from my eyes as I thought that I would have to sleep alone again tonight.

It was funny, really, how one could form a habit in two days, but the shock of breaking it was immensely strong. I knew I would not get any sleep that night; no matter how tired I was from crying, I would stay up all night until the wells in my eyes were dried up and I had to search for a backup valve for my tears. I would hold his picture close to my chest (as I was doing then), and sob into his shirt.

"I miss you," I croaked thickly, before beginning another round of sobs. I had school tomorrow; how could I bear it? Being alone, knowing no one was waiting for me. Knowing that I was, truthfully, more alone than I ever was in my entire life. I had two days of being alone; then I met Danny. But now, I knew he was out there somewhere, and the shock of not having him by me was just too much to bare.

Karin came into my room, uninvited. She sat down on my bed and watched me cry for a few moments. What the hell was she doing? Couldn't she see I wanted to be alone?

"Sam," she said softly. "I think you should forget him. It's always sad to see a friend go, but it's been a day. He left yesterday morning; you spent the entire afternoon, all through until nine o'clock, sobbing outside, gripping his shirt. And then you haven't even left your room at all today! Sam, honestly. He was just one person…it wasn't as if you two were in love, or anything…"

I tried not to laugh. Yeah, it's so totally not called love when you feel as if you gave your heart to someone.

I felt my stomach clench, unbearable pain in my lower abdomen, and my heart flare on fire. "I miss him," I whispered. "So, so much."

Karin's gaze filtered through my bleak wall of self pity. It was a glare of confusion, wondering how I could have been so close to a kid she thought so bad. I was about to shake her and scream at him that I actually did love him and she wasn't aloud to think such bad thoughts about him when she stood up.

"Sam." Her voice was gentle. "I know how you feel; losing a friend is never easy. But please…try to make a friend tomorrow, okay?" She sounded almost worried. "I don't need you breaking down on me." And then she left.

She didn't need me breaking down on her?

Yeah. What a laugh.

---

The next day, at recess, I had my head on the table and my arms splayed out in front of them. I was just sitting there, fighting back tears, not wanting to cry in front of my classmates. Didn't need any more people thinking I was suicidal.

Randomly, a kid I had seen but never talked to sat down next to me. "You okay, Sam?" he asked. I puzzled briefly over the fact that he knew my name. But it didn't matter; nothing mattered, now that Danny was gone.

Danny…

Danny…

Danny…

I missed him. I missed him so much.

I raised my head and looked at the kid. I had seen a glimpse of him from the holes in the table; dark skin, baggy green shorts. That was it. But as I looked up, I saw the red beanie on his head, the concerned look in his large, chocolate eyes. Why did he care? He didn't even know me.

He had a PDA in one of his clenched hands. I had my head barely up, just grazing over the top of the table. "No, I'm not okay," I sighed, searching my brain for his name. I might as well be courteous to him, since he was the first person to talk to me and not goad me or tease me.

"What's wrong?" he asked kindly.

I sighed. I didn't feel like telling him; but it sort of spilled out. "My best friend was just adopted from the orphanage the two of us lived in. But…dude, I loved him!" Tears betrayed me and spilled from my eyes. "I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. And it's so hard being without him."

The kid but his arm sympathetically around me. It felt nice, having a hand around me again.

But it certainly wasn't as nice as Danny's.