For Chaos Dragon. Get well soon, dearest.
Anathema's Abode
Chapter 20
Redemption
Dressed in nothing but her nightclothes and barefoot on the balcony of her bedroom overlooking the gardens of Manson Estate, Sam couldn't help but vehemently wish that this was all nothing more than an ill dream. Vivid green artificial ecto energy flared violently from her ghost gauntlet clad fists, enveloping her pale features in an eerie, almost inhuman glow.
However, other than his nightmarish presence, there was nothing surreal about the worn intruder standing before her, his form battered and bloodied. The muscles in Sam's legs were tense and coiled, her weight primarily resting on the balls of her feet as she prepared to make a lunge at the white haired ghost should he attempt to forego their staring contest and gain entrance to her home.
"I'm glad that you weren't on duty tonight," Phantom greeted softly, breaking their silent stalemate. "It made my task of tracking you down significantly easier."
"How did you find me here?" Sam demanded viciously. "This is my home."
"I was going to seek you out at the Brotherhood," Phantom's tone was apologetic. "But your brethren would have shot me out of the sky before the opportunity to see you face to face presented itself."
"What do you want from me?" the ghost hunter's voice was dangerously low.
"No death threats this time?" Phantom commented softly, raising an eyebrow at Sam. "I suppose that's an improvement. How've you been, Sam?"
The ghost hunter stood in cold, defiant silence as she stared down the ghost before her, her clenched fists burning with ecto energy from her gauntlets as she shook with rage at the utter audacity of the monster standing so casually before her.
Refusing to meet her gaze, Phantom focused on inspecting a particularly sordid injury to his left collarbone where his rough silk shirt was drenched in caking ectoplasm, "I hadn't expected a warm reception, but if I had wished to bring harm to you, I would have done so already."
Clicking his tongue, the white haired ghost wrenched the poorly healed shoulder into two with a bone-splintering snap. Despite how her hatred of the enemy really ought to bring her joy in his suffering, Sam couldn't help but wince at the sound, her sharp intake of breath whistling between her gritted teeth.
"You should've seen the state that I was in an hour ago," Phantom grunted as he reset the bone, before ending his elucidation with a chuckle of bitter amusement at his own weakness.
Slow, she noticed abruptly, as her gaze focused on the shoulder that Phantom had just realigned. His healing is much too slow.
Maddie's apprentice's eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation ruthlessly. For a Midian of his calibre to have expended such vast quantities of energy- what could have possibly befallen the Ghost General? Compared to the last high level duel between Phantom and the Fright Knight that she had witnessed, his injuries then were nothing compared to those adorning his form now. For a selfish moment, Sam couldn't help but inwardly smirk, silently thanking the white haired ghost's opponent for dealing out the punishment that Phantom had taken.
The lavender eyed girl's mind whirled with the possibilities- Phantom's presence here tonight, alone and devastatedly wounded, presented an unprecedented opportunity for her brethren. If she could stall for enough time, Sam was certain that there would never again be such a ripe opportunity to slay him. For once, the odds would be stacked slightly more evenly in the Brotherhood's favour, even if the mortalities in attempting such a feat would still be high. She snuck a glance at the moon overhead out of the corner of her eye out of sheer habit than an actual need of verification. A waxing half moon illuminated the edge of her vision, forcing her eyes to readjust from the darkness. It wasn't the most ideal stages of the lunar cycle, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Sam bit her bottom lip as she contemplated running indoors to fetch the thermos on her bedside table. Phantom had once told her that he was capable of breaking out of the Brotherhood invention, but doing so would provide him with unwanted inconvenience. But in his weakened state, there was a small possibility that he might be incapable of escaping the confines of the containment device. And it was far more favourable to face the white haired ghost alone, than suffer needless deaths amongst her brethren. After all, the Ghost General had shown significant reluctance in the past in harming her, a failing that the ghost hunter was keen to exploit. That, and Sam was determined to singlehandedly make him pay for his betrayal.
"Not talking, huh?" Phantom leaned resignedly against her balcony to keep upright, as the otherworldly flesh surrounding his clavicle reknitted. "If it makes any difference to you, I no longer serve the Ghost King."
"You're lying," Sam's response was automatic, her form stiffening as the ectoplasm at her fingertips flared once more.
"No," he answered levelly, in a tone that left little room for argument. "I'm not."
"In which case, were you cast out for the same incompetence you accused your predecessor of?" Sam queried in cold satisfaction, despite her previous decision to avoid conversation with Phantom, to prevent herself from once again making the mistake of humanising him.
She would play along for now, but that didn't mean that she believed a word of his treachery. He was attempting to deceive her again- if Phantom truly no longer commanded Pariah Dark's armies, there was no way that he would still be alive. Immensely powerful as the white haired spectre had displayed himself to be, no being, supernatural or otherwise, even came close to the strength of the Ghost King.
"Spare me the insults," the white haired ghost parried tiredly, ignoring the taunt. "Again, if it makes any difference, I defected. Took a couple of Pariah Dark's fingers and made quite a mess of his castle while I was at it," he informed wryly, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.
"So you fled again," the Brotherhood girl summarised succinctly, squashing the glimmer of hope in her chest that he was telling the truth. "What else have you ever been good for, Phantom?"
"Information, if nothing else," the former General replied. "Unless my presence is so repugnant to you that you cannot endure it long enough to hear what I have to say?"
Grudgingly, Sam's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth as she glared at Phantom, prompting him to continue. Even if the monster before her was about to attempt to feed her more untruths, she could leave no stone unturned where information necessary to the Brotherhood's survival was concerned.
"I'm sure you are aware of this by now," Phantom began, "but Pariah planned to invade Amity Park, to storm the city and force out the rebels."
"Tell me something I don't know," the ghost hunter interjected fiercely, fearing what would happen if she were to allowed their conversation to take any longer than necessary, "Ember's relaying of your message was more than clear- wait," Sam's eyes widened, as she stumbled over her next words, not daring to hope against hope, "what do you mean, he planned to invade Amity Park?"
Despite the gravity of the wounds interspersed across Phantom's slowly healing form, the former Lord General of the Ghost King's troops managed to curve his lips into a knowing smirk that still garnered him to be more of a force to be reckoned with than an utter fool. "Let's just say that he's been forced reorder his priorities, for now."
"I don't understand," cold sweat trickled down the nape of Sam's neck to her back as her voice acquired a hard edge, "what are you saying, Phantom? Did you just come here to gloat over your escape, or do you actually have information of value to the Brotherhood?"
"Amity's safe for now," he paused, "or it will be, the instance that I leave, and make my presence known elsewhere."
"What are you talking about?" Sam questioned pushing her dark hair out of her eyes as she regarded him in worn out confusion, sick of waiting for the ghost before her to finally fill her in with the details. He had always been this way, right from the moment that she had met him. Despite how servitude under Pariah Dark might have changed Phantom, prying answers from one as stubborn as him was still an exhaustive task.
"You just got here. If you've truly defected from Pariah's circle of warlords as you have claimed, then you possess invaluable information about the condition of the Empire's armies that must be relayed firsthand to our leader at once," lavender eyes bore into green with unrelenting determination.
"I'm leaving," the white haired ghost replied shortly, and Sam instinctively knew that she had not imagined the bitter wistfulness lacing his tone. "If I were to remain here, my actions this evening would have been for naught."
"I'm surprised that you turned your back on the Ghost King and walked away with your existence," Sam commented, crossing her arms to stave off the chills of the cold night air. She regarded her former ally with suspicion as she took a calculated risk, laying her cards on the table. "How do I know that you weren't sent here to once again deceive us? After all, you've left me very little reason to believe you."
"Ember has always known where your headquarters reside," Phantom reminded her brutally. "If I had truly desired to lay waste to the Brotherhood, the rebels would have long since perished. And I don't necessarily need your trust if I can guarantee that Amity Park will escape Pariah's wrath unscathed," he growled. "But what would it take to convince you that I am on your side?"
"Stay," the ghost hunter replied curtly. "Defend Amity."
"I can't stay," the white haired ghost snorted softly in frustration. "Christ Sam, don't you understand? "Believe me," Phantom gritted his teeth. "Others have paid dearly for my reckless actions. I am not going to belittle their sacrifices to linger here on a whim."
A violent chill shot up the ghost hunter's spine at his words, her glare softening as she gazed upon the fury of his countenance, so evidently fixated on vengeance. "She's been slain, hasn't she?" Sam murmured softly, unsure if she wanted to know the answer to the question she was posing. "Ember McLain?"
Ember couldn't be gone; not yet. Not before Sam's debt to her was repaid. Whatever the flamed haired ghost's reasons for betraying the Brotherhood, her mentor's former partner had still chosen to lend Sam her aid when she had needed it the most. Ember had sacrificed to keep Sam alive, even giving up her old ghost gauntlets that she had used in active duty. Whether she had done so for Phantom's sake or Maddie's was irrelevant. Sam refused to be eternally indebted to a ghost, yet loathe as she was to admit it, the previous festering jealousy that the ghost hunter had felt for the former Brotherhood member had been replaced with what could almost amount to grudging respect.
"I don't know," Phantom's replied bitterly, gripping the balustrade as his upper body coiled in anguish. In that singular, fragile moment the ghost who wielded such terrifying power and struck fear in the hearts of countless appeared to be no more than a young man, lost and confused, and despite herself, the ghost hunter could not stop her heart from going out to him in his fear for Ember.
Despite the path that the azure haired woman had chosen, she had once been a part of the brotherhood, one of Sam's brethren. It had been a conclusion that the ghost hunter had been uneasy about reaching, but the night that Ember had rescued Sam and her partner, beseeching her to bring word of the impending invasion to Maddie, the pyrokine had proved that whatever her motives were, her lingering affection for the Brotherhood – for Maddie – was still genuine. She was more than a good partner, her mentor's voice echoed in Sam's mind, her tone heavy with sadness. To me, she was a good friend. The best.
"I'm sorry," Sam offered, shaken as she realised that not a shred of doubt pertaining to Phantom's apparent defection from Pariah's services remained in her mind. "If she's managed to escape, do you have any idea where to start looking for her?"
"No," the bitterness in the former General's voice thickened and curdled, "I don't."
"So the two of you never discussed escape plans? Did she even know that you were going to defect?" the violet eyed girl queried incredulously. "Surely you would have foreseen-"
"She refused to tell me where she was going," for the first time that night, Phantom truly appeared to be at a loss. "I bade her to take Arion along with her for protection," he hissed. "But we were both fully aware that it might not be enough."
Before Sam was even fully conscious of what she was doing, the tips of her fingers were brushing comfortingly against his gauntlet clad forearm as they leaned over the balcony overlooking the Manson gardens, as Phantom met her gaze in surprise. It wasn't until then that Maddie's apprentice noticed the thin silver bracelet encircling her wrist, realising that sometime down the line, she had unconsciously deactivated her ghost gauntlets and closed the distance between them.
"You'll find her," she affirmed, brutally dispelling the twang in her chest of an old jealousy she had long since put to death, "I know you will."
"I will," the former General gritted his teeth in steely determination. "I'll start looking for her the instant I leave Amity Park."
"You can't leave," Maddie's apprentice protested fiercely, the unspoken sentiment lingering in the air between them: I don't want you to go. Not yet. "Now that you're no longer enlisted under the Ghost King's services, you have the chance to actually do some good, for once. You can't run away," her voice was laced with frost as a measure of her old anger returned. "I'm sick of watching you take the coward's way out."
"I can't stay. Don't you see?" White eyebrows furrowed in desperation. "I escaped to save Amity Park from destruction. My lingering would spell its doom. Pariah knows that I have links in Amity, which makes this city the first place he'll tear apart looking for me. Compared to his invasion plans, the danger that you would be in when he hunts me down will be multiplied tenfold."
"Why?" Sam demanded in exasperation, planting her fists firmly on her hips as she her gaze locked with his, willing herself not to break contact as cold spikes of fear scuttled their way up her spine. "Phantom, what have you done?" she whispered.
"I'm sorry, Sam," he began helplessly, rummaging to untie what appeared to be a small bundle of rags from his formerly exquisite belt. "But it seems that I'm going to have to be a burden to you once more."
"What have you done?" she repeated with more conviction, willing herself to stop shaking as she silently begged for her hunch to be far off the mark.
"In a few hours, the former General of the Ghost King's armies is going to be sighted at the other side of the world, as far from Amity Park as physically possible," Phantom paused momentarily to allow the magnitude of their current situation to sink in. "In order to regain what is dear to the King, the Empire, perhaps even Pariah Dark himself, will give chase in an attempt to subdue him, and Amity Park will be saved from being reduced to rubble. For in comparison, a handful of rebels will become a tuppence to be dealt with at leisure when compared to a rogue warlord of Pariah's elite –"
"Oh god," Sam interjected with a strangled whisper. "You didn't."
"Which makes this city the safest place in the world to hide this," the ghost steeled himself, resolute as he unfurled the scrap of fabric that had formerly originated as part of the General's mantle.
For some reason beyond her comprehension, even before her line of vision focused on the artefact glowing eerily in the moonlight, illuminating the tattered fabric on which it rested, Sam had already instinctively identified the tiny object as the Ring of Rage.
"How did you –" Sam grappled for the appropriate words to respond with as helpless terror of forthcoming repercussions ate at her form. Yet simultaneously, for the first time in months, the first ray of hope of the Brotherhood's survival began to blossom in the ghost hunter's chest at the incredible feat that Phantom had accomplished. With Pariah Dark's power diminished...
"I told you that I took a couple of his fingers," Phantom exhaled, regarding the stunned ghost hunter in dark mirth. "I should have deigned to mention which ones. I think you would agree that it's evident why I can no longer remain in Amity Park?" The white haired ghost favoured her with a significant look.
"Y-yes," Sam fought to keep her knees from giving way. "But there's no way that the King will ever let you get away with this," despair for his well-being bubbled and rose from the pit of her stomach, a sick feeling that the ghost hunter didn't fight to keep back.
"I know," a small smile crossed the former General's countenance. "Which is why I'm entrusting the Ring of Rage to you."
"What?" the Brotherhood girl's head snapped upwards as their gazes locked, not daring to believe anything other than that she had misheard him. "What did you say?" she repeated nervously, taking a step backwards despite herself.
"I'm leaving the Ring with you," he affirmed gently, his tone laced with what could almost be classified as tenderness.
"You can't," she floundered lamely, "I don't want it."
"I have already proven myself to be no match for him," firmly, Phantom grasped her left hand with his right as he tilted his other palm, allowing the Ring of Rage to tumble into the ghost hunter's trembling grasp. "This is the only way, Sam. If he hunts me down and the Ring of Rage is still in my possession, Pariah will destroy me and reclaim it, and all this will be for naught," softly, Phantom's fingers enveloped hers as he closed her fingers around the Ring, the air between them sparking at the contact.
"I hate you," she hissed weakly, unable to stop her vision from swimming with tears as she gripped the spectral artefact so hard that it bit into the soft flesh of her hand. "You can't do this to me."
"I don't understand," he intoned slowly, confusion painfully evident on his features. "I've brought you the Ring of Rage, Pariah Dark's sigil of his reigning power," never before had Sam seen him so vulnerable, "shouldn't that be sufficient for redemption in your eyes? Shouldn't everything be alright between us?"
"Things don't work that way, Phantom," Sam bit the words out. "Nothing's that simple."
"And why shouldn't it be?" he growled. "Are you looking for an apology, Sam?" he challenged roughly. "Is that what this is about? Because I'm not going to provide one. You're well aware that the Empire threatened Ember's well being if I failed to comply with Pariah's demands. And for that one reason alone, I am not sorry that I joined them," raw emotion bled as his eyes searched hers. "I'm not sorry for what I was forced to become."
"You're still the enemy," she uttered bluntly, endeavouring to ignore the hurt that flashed across his features at her rejection of absolution. How could Phantom possibly bring himself to gaze at her with such tenderness, when the last time that their paths had crossed, she had named him a monster? And even worse, she had sworn to his face to slay him with her own hand.
"Perhaps," the white haired ghost paused, as his lips set into a grim line. "But this enemy has also just delivered half the power of the Empire into your hands."
"What do you want from me?" Sam couldn't hold back the confused desperation lacing her tone, as she clutched at the Ring of Rage nestled in the palm of her left fist.
"Nothing more than your forgiveness, Sam," Phantom assured her softly, as he released his grip on her dominant hand. "I swear it."
"Why should I believe you?" once again, the ghost hunter posed the challenge, but even she could make out the battering that her convictions had taken from the tremors in her voice.
"I'm a wanted man in both realms," the former general elucidated bitterly. "I've lost everything valued by my kind. Power, influence, the Ghost King's favour…" Phantom's voice trailed off. "And far worse, I have no idea where in hell's name my only friend is, or if she's even alive. And even when I was being blackmailed into leading Pariah's troops, I saved your life, and repeatedly attempted to warn you to leave Amity for your own safety," his eyes flared burnished green, "Believe it or not, I have nothing to lose anymore. What motives could I possibly have to lie to you?"
"You cannot ask this of me," she protested faintly. "If the Ring of Rage is ever discovered to be in my possession, it'll spell the Brotherhood's end."
"But you're human," he argued. "Pariah will never sense the Ring's location if you don't put it on."
"What if this thing," Sam's lip twisted, "contaminates me? I've seen firsthand what exposure to ectoplasm has done to Maddie –"
"God, Sam, I'm not asking you to wear it," Phantom growled. "I just need you to keep it safe until we can figure out how to destroy it. However," he paused, hesitant. "If you are ever in sufficient danger, promise me you'll use the Ring's power to defend yourself."
"No," Sam replied fiercely, revolted by his audacity to even suggest it. "I'll never become like you. And you can't leave it here, either. When Pariah finally tracks you down, he'll kill you," she stated bluntly, ignoring the beads of moisture accumulating at the corners of her eyes as well as the voice at the back of her head telling her that it was no longer merely the safekeeping of the Ghost King's Ring that they were arguing about, "you'll need to be able to defend yourself."
"I'm a dead man anyway, even if I go into hiding," his laugh was hollow as he turned to overlook the garden below them. "We might as well make sure that I die for a worthy cause."
"So this is goodbye, then?" Sam queried hopelessly as she timidly rested her head on his shoulder, wishing that she could summon up the courage to touch him.
"Apparently so," Phantom agreed, as a gauntlet clad hand reached out to smooth her hair. The Brotherhood girl did nothing to stop him, closing her eyes as she leaned instinctively into his touch.
Despite herself, Sam couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if things had worked out differently between them, if the white haired ghost has agreed with her initial request for him to fight alongside her brethren, almost a year ago. Or better yet, she sighed wistfully, if only Phantom had been born six hundred or so years later, if he were human. But loathe as the Brotherhood girl was to admit it, if Phantom were human, would she remain as blithely drawn to him as she was now?
"You should go," the ghost hunter murmured mournfully after a moment of enjoying each other's company, coming to her senses. "If you are spotted in Amity Park, then all this will be for nothing."
"You're right," he acquiesced reluctantly. "Goodbye, Sam," he whispered, bowing in departure as he raised the back of her hand to his lips.
It was the one shred of indulgence that neither should have allowed the other, as Maddie's apprentice tried to ignore the feel of his lips pressed against the back of her hand. She struggled to look away, her heartbeat pounding in her chest in an all too persistent staccato.
Phantom, similarly, appeared to share her reluctance in letting go as his form visibly stiffened, drawing himself up to his full height as he stared at her in askance.
Don't," she warned, her voice strained, as his grip on her hand tightened. He had to leave. Now, while her sanity was still retrievable. Every second in his presence was causing her self control to unravel.
"Don't?" he repeated softly, intertwining their fingers.
"This is wrong," Sam strove to keep her voice from shaking, yet unable to summon the willpower to snatch her hand from his.
"This is wrong," he acceded, looking at her as though in challenge.
Their gazes locked, and Sam couldn't suppress a shiver at the intensity of his stare. The last time Phantom's gaze had held this terrifying, yet exhilarating ferocity, the ghost hunter had found herself caged between the white haired ghost and a brick wall, with no means of breaking out of his grip. But that was then, and this was now. Back then, despite how the very thought of the former general made her sick, a part of her had still longed for his touch when she had been pinned against him, regardless of his betrayal.
Now that he had proven his loyalty to her all along... The most unsettling fact of the matter was that if he were to repeat his previous actions, Sam wasn't sure if she'd want to escape.
She had a thermos in her room, on her bedside table. Hell, she even had a communicator within reach. The ghost hunter could tell her team members what was happening. She could call for help. Given how reluctant Phantom had always been to reveal himself to humans other than herself, that in itself would probably be sufficient to scare him off. Sam knew that she alone could put an end to this, because it didn't look as though Phantom was prepared to back down.
This was all wrong. Lavender eyes squeezed shut, as she struggled to make sense of the whirlwind of conflicting emotions and desires running through her head. The back of her hand still tingled where his lips had met her skin, and Sam had to struggle against the mounting urge to run her own fingers over it.
He's a ghost, her surviving reasoning screamed. You can't trust him! But from the way he was looking at her, how could she bring herself not to?
Phantom must have grown tired of her indecision, for he gave her no warning before crushing his lips against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss that left her breathless and weak kneed.
Returning the kiss, Sam's mind went black as she clutched at him wildly for support, her left hand still curled around the Ring of Rage as she threw her arms around his neck, her legs encircling his waist. The white haired ghost stumbled forwards, and Sam tried not to wince she was propped roughly on the top of the balustrade with a dull thud, fully aware that she was going to bruise. And before Sam's mind could keep up with the absurdity of the situation he had kissed her again, running a hand through her hair with surprising gentleness.
"We shouldn't be doing this," her protest sounded weak even to her own ears.
"No," Phantom murmured in agreement, but made no move to quell the fiery trail of butterfly kisses along the base of her neck, as his other arm enclosed her waist to prevent her toppling several storeys down. "We shouldn't."
Sam had to wonder if the ghost was even really listening to her as her top was turned intangible and pulled from her form, before being promptly discarded behind her to flutter down into the garden below. Their gazes locked and his unspoken sentiments lingered between them, as real and as feverish as the intoxicating feeling of his fingers on her skin: But we are, and you've yet to stop me.
Then their hips grazed as he laid a hand on her thigh, drawing a shaky whimper from the ghost hunter's throat, a sound she was only half aware that she was making in response to his ministrations. It was strange, Sam thought, raising a hand to stroke his cheek as he nibbled gently on her sensitive ear lobe. Despite the icy chill of his lifeless body, every time his lips brushed her skin, the ghost hunter half expected to find herself branded by the heat.
You're being propositioned by a ghost, her failing rationality moaned. If Maddie ever finds out what you've done, or what he intends to do-
His right thumb ghosted across a nipple as he cupped her breast, and Sam lost what little train of coherent thought that remained, taking with it all mental objections protesting the insanity of her current situation. The ghost hunter didn't stop the mewl that escaped her lips as he started to knead the pliable flesh in his grasp, her lithe form relaxing softly into his touch as their lips once again met. After all that she had given to the Brotherhood, surely her brethren could not deny her this one fleeting moment of happiness?
The end of Phantom's amused chuckle caught her attention, subjecting Sam to an abrupt onset of embarrassment about how damned vocal she was being, as she was forcibly reminded of the teasing that he used to subject her to when matters had been far less complicated between them. Despite herself, the lavender eyed girl scowled. She ought to smack him, bite him, pull at his hair, anything to let him know that his teasing wasn't appreciated. The smug bastard she was straddling seemed to have nearly nothing in common with the remorseful Midian begging for her forgiveness just moments before, yet God – how she'd missed that smile.
"Phantom," her admonition was curt, yet all objections regarding his behaviour died on her tongue the instant his started its descent down the pale expanse of her exposed breasts, his lips finding a nipple.
He hummed distractedly in reply, too preoccupied for a proper conversation to be held. And although Sam wouldn't go as far as to say that she missed his self-satisfied teasing, Sam knew that even though things between them weren't back to the way that they had once been, nor was she sure that they ever would be, Phantom had come back to her. For now, that was all that truly mattered.
Her nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, as her palm flattened against his chest, trailing appreciatively down the sinews of his torso. Sam's legs, still wrapped around his waist from when she had hoisted herself against him for support, tightened their grip as her left fist unfurled to untangle the windblown knots wrought from battle in his white hair.
It wasn't until Sam's hand was comfortably interwoven between his locks that she managed correlate the sharp, startling clack that seemed to reverberate out of nowhere with her realisation that in opening her hand, she had dropped the Ring of Rage.
Coming to her senses, she started away from Phantom as though she had been burned, her eyes scanning the marble floor for the Ring before she realised that the white haired ghost was doing exactly the same thing, but not before he could hide the hurt that flashed across his features at her initial panic. Clearing his throat as she stooped down to retrieve the Ring, he busied himself with doing up the buttons of his ectoplasm stained shirt. Judging from the fact that his previously exquisite shirt was now in no fit state to ever be used again, the act struck Sam as altogether pointless.
"Forgive me," Phantom muttered nearly inaudibly, running a hand through the stark white of his hair as he pointedly averted his eyes from her bared chest.
"What for?" Sam replied breathlessly, crossing her arms to regain some measure of decency as she strove to regain her composure. "It was a lack of discipline on both our parts."
"I have to go," the ghost's tone was apologetic as he gathered her half dressed form in a tight hug. "I've already stayed far longer than I expected. Any longer and I'll be endangering you and the rest of Amity."
She strained on her tiptoes to reach his lips with hers as she pressed a final, relatively chaste kiss to his lips, her moist tongue grazing his bottom lip as she fought to keep her own mounting sadness at the transience of what had just transpired between them at bay.
"You're right," Sam struggled to force a small smile of encouragement to cross her features. What Phantom was about to attempt on Amity's behalf was most likely going to spell his doom; she ought not to make his life any more difficult.
"Promise me you'll stay safe," he supplicated.
"You know I can't promise that," she laughed softly in reply. "Don't let Pariah slay you," she raised her chin as she regarded him, turning his request on its head.
"You know that I can't promise that either," he echoed in bitter mirth.
"Survive," she demanded, making no move to stop the hot tears streaking abruptly down her cheeks as he released her. "Survive, and come back to me."
Phantom appeared taken aback by her display, and her own sudden honest, heartfelt disclosure of her emotions mortified Sam far more than her physical exposure. Abruptly, she was cruelly reminded that no matter what had just transpired between them, they were still enemies, and the next time that she saw him would probably be in battle, with her brethren after his blood. And she would still aid them, she realised – she would never forgo her duty to.
"I still can't promise that," tenderly, he cupped her chin before a far more familiar, bestial expression overtook his features, that of a warrior's bloodlust. "But I can promise that I'll do my damndest."
"Go," she whispered, fully aware that if he didn't leave now, he probably never would, an indulgence that their current precarious circumstances could not afford.
Subjecting her to a final lingering glance, Phantom ruffled her hair almost as though he was placating a small child before he dematerialised in a blinding flash of white light that robbed Sam of more than just her vision, leaving the ghost hunter to fall to her knees, speechless and feeling oddly alone in the starkness of the night.
A/N: Happy V-day, everyone! :D A slightly longer chapter this time.
I've now gotten a place at med school, so fingers crossed I'll be churning out the chapters at the speed that I was previously. I'm rather eager to move forward with the plot, as you can probably tell from the leaps that the past two chapters have taken. Do let me know if you enjoyed the chapter.
As always, concrit is greatly appreciated! :)
Hugs and Kisses,
Twisted