Danny awoke to an ear shattering scream. In his foggy mindset, it didn't register as Sam's voice, all he knew was the urgency, the fear. Without a sound, he was up, phasing through the ceiling. Rushing through walls, he finally found himself in what he surmised was Sam's room. He rushed into the bathroom, not stopping despite noticing the blood on the bed. Goose-pimples rose on his flesh. It was almost like the bed was out of a bad horror flick.

He was jolted to a stop when he saw Sam laying on the bathroom floor, unconcious. He knew she'd dropped after the scream. Rushing to her side, he checked for a pulse, and when he found it, he rolled her over and into his arms. He was careful to avoid the slick red liquid on her body, and the open wounds. Fighting the bile that was rising, Danny rushed to Michelle's room. He only hoped that she was awake.

Sure enough, when he pushed the door open, the 8 year old girl was already up and dressed. The fear was palpable in the room, and without a word, Danny and Michelle rushed to Danny's car. They worked together to situate Sam in the back seats, not bothering with a towel to put under her. Danny didn't really care about blood getting on the backseats.

Michelle got herself situated in the front passanger seat, even if it was dangerous, and Danny barely got in before he got the engine going, and pealed out of the drive way.

"Your mom's gonna be OK, Michelle. Promise."

-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep- The bustle of people around her. -I want that IV NOW!- Ow.- A needle. That hurt. -Drip-Drip-Drip- Cold latex on her arm. Another needle. Black.

-The surgery was a success. She's got stitches in all of the wounds. How did she get them again?- Oh, she was attacked by a cougar. - Drip-Drip-Drip- They're talking again. His voice. Danny? Was he here? Where? -Oh.- A hand in hers. It's small, warm. Child.

-Mommy, wake up.- Hand goes away. -NO!- Replaced by bigger hand. More manly. Snoring. Night? Black.

-Make sure she's got fluids in her system.- Black. -Please wake up.- Mommy...Danny, is she gonna be OK?- So dark. No light. Candle? Hospital?

-Change those sheets- "Go back Sam. It's time to wake up." -Oh, Sammy. Please. If you can hear me...- "Can you hear me? WAKE UP."

Several days had passed. Danny and Michelle came to visit every day at noon. Sam still hadn't woke up, but they didn't stop trying. They read to her. Mostly Robert Frost, Emily Dickenson, Shakespeare. Whatever they liked. Michelle read Dr. Seuss books. Green Eggs and Ham. Cat in the Hat. It didn't matter what the content was, they read to her, hoping she'd come out of it.

Most days, Sam would respond minimally. A knitting of her eyebrows when Danny took his hand from hers to leave, a tightening of her lips whenever Danny stumbled over a word he would normally understand, a tensing of her eyes when Michelle started to cry. Every so often, there would be no response. She was almost dead-like those days.

And in those days, Danny and Michelle developed a system. Danny would read a passage of whatever book he had with him, and Michelle would read after that for however long she wanted. Then he'd take her home, where a sitter waited. He'd come back to the hospital to do more serious things with Sam. He'd make sure she had her tests done, her IV drip changed out, check her blood. All these things he began to do on his own after watching the Nurses a few times. Soon enough, they didn't need to come in unless they were checking her and shooing him out of her room at the appropriate time.

Danny would hole himself up at night when he got to the Manson house, reading medical book after medical book, and often reading his parent's notes on Ghost encounter side affects. He couldn't figure out what would cause her condition. Nothing made sense. Anemia? No, that would be different... hmm...open wounds? His searches would go well into the night, and at 2 o'clock in the morning, each night, he would resign himself to not finding it that time, and would go to bed, so tired that he would pass out in moments. He would dream of Sam dying and coming back as a ghost, blaming him for not finding her cure.

On a Thursday afternoon, at 1:25 pm Sam opened her eyes. It had been a week after she'd gone into a Coma. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw Danny. He was sitting in a chair under the window in her room. He was silently reading to himself - one of the few times he didn't read aloud. The sun bathed his jet black hair in pale light, throwing his face into a silhouette. It made Sams' heart a-flutter.

"Dan-..." Frustration welled up in her. She couldn't speak! She tried to move her arms, and found that they wouldn't respond to her mental commands. "Dan-..."

Danny looked up then. His eyes widened when he saw her tear streaked face. Her eyes were open, and she was looking downward, toward her arms. Sorrow and Pride swelled in him. She couldn't move, but she'd woken up. Tears blurred his vision momentarily, and he took her hand. He'd never been more happy in his entire life at that moment.

"Sam. Welcome back."

A/N: Sorry for such a long wait. I've had so much going on that I just haven't gotten to this story. I'm terribly sorry. Next update should be next month. :)