Chapter #14: Nightmares
The smoke stings his eyes as he sweeps the crumbled, ruined buildings. Fear and guilt squeeze his heart, and he falls to the ground, unable to fly. Screams reach his ears, along with a menacing laugh.
He looks to the sky, where a single figure hovers. He smiles.
"Hello…me," he rumbles.
"I…" he manages to cough, "…I am not you…"
"Oh, but you will be," he smiles, "It's not very hard, you know. For instance…" his hand glows, and a familiar yelp sounds as a single figure is pulled from the rubble, struggling against a ghostly glow.
"Tucker!" Danny shouts.
"Danny!" Tucker replies, "Don't…!"
"One down," his future self almost sings, clenching his fist. Tucker convulses, and the sickening snap overcomes all other noise. His limp form falls to the ground, eyes dull and unseeing.
Danny screams, trying to scramble closer to his friend.
"And another on the way," he snickers, lifting another body from the ruins.
Danny's breathing stops, "Sam," he rasps weakly, "don't touch her!"
"Oh, but I already have," he grins.
"Danny, don't listen to him!" Sam shouts, "Just–" her voice cuts off as a clawed hand wraps around her throat, and a forked tongue dances across her cheek.
He feels burning rage pool in his stomach, "Get your hands off of her!" He can't move, still pinned to the ground by some unknown force.
"She tastes good," he purrs, "If I still had my humanity, I'd probably crave this. But right now…"
::Danny, you have to wake up.::
"Right now, I'm just curious…"
::Danny, please, it isn't real!::
"…what would it do to you…"
::Danny? Danny! I'm okay, this is all just a dream!::
"…if I took her right here…"
::Danny, you're okay. I'm okay too!::
"…and made you watch it all?"
His heart thuds in his ears, and his vision goes red, "Don't you dare!" he roars.
::Danny, it's a dream! Wake up!::
Everything begins to vanish around him, it all fades to black. He's in the church, the church from that dream, and gentle fingers stroke his hair. His head is in Sam's lap, and she stares down at him with tear-filled eyes. She's in the dress, the hood of her cloak pushed all the way down, over her shoulders.
"It's okay, Danny," she whispers, "It was all a dream. You're okay. I'm okay. Just sleep."
He reaches a hand up and strokes her jaw with trembling fingers, "I…" he chokes up, "I can't lose you, Sam."
"You won't," she promises, "Ever. Or Tucker. If anybody is losing anyone, we'll be…" she cups his jaw, "you're the one most likely to get lost, you stupid halfa."
"I know," he whispers, "I'm selfish like that."
"Just…get some rest."
His eyes slip closed, and he fades away. She looks out the window of the church, where a funeral takes place. The dream she'd been having before being pulled to Danny's.
A black coffin, decorated with silver, is slowly lowered into the earth. Mrs. Fenton stares on numbly, arms wrapped around her husband. Jazz mirrors her, clinging to some unknown figure – her husband, presumably, but Sam can't see his face. Valerie stands dutifully aside, and, like everyone else, keeps her gaze from straying to the shape huddled by the gravestone.
Sam watches as Tucker holds her, his eyes dry and haunted as she cries into his shoulder. He never lets himself cry in these dreams. Ever. She doesn't know why. Images flash through her mind, scenes after the funeral. Tucker calling her daily, checking on her, being at her side and pretending he doesn't notice her tears. She knows he hurts just as badly, but he won't show it. He's being strong. For her.
She knows this nightmare like the back of her hand. She's screaming right now, screaming at Danny. Asking him how it's possible to simultaneously be the most selfless and the most selfish person she knows. Begs him to phase through the casket, laugh it off, and apologize for such a tasteless joke.
He doesn't.
The sky fills with ghosts, and they all land respectfully behind the circle of human mourners. Frostbite looks as though he's melted. His icy prosthetic is gone, the bone hanging limply at his side, and his fur is wet and matted. Dora and her maidens wail beside the group of yeti. Skulker is yelling furiously, held back only by his girlfriend – no, his wife in this dream – whose mascara is smeared by tears. Johnny and Kitty simply hold each other in respectful silence.
Clockwork approaches her. Though she's watching from the church windows, she knows what Clockwork is telling her.
"Daniel is at peace," he assuages every time, "He died to protect those he loved. He carried the world on his shoulders, Samantha. Now he's truly free. It's the only way he could be. He would be carrying that burden until the day it crushed him."
"Is there…nothing I could have done?" she sobs, both at the gravesite and in the church.
"Not without dooming the world in his stead. Stand tall," he lifts her to her feet, "You are the widow of Danny Phantom, King of Ghosts. We will all stand behind our queen in her time of need."
Her eyes flick open, to the darkness of the room.
"Sam? Sweetie?" Pamela asks.
"What?"
"Are…" she can hear her mother's voice tremble, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she wipes away a traitorous tear, "Is it my turn on guard duty?"
"No, your grandmother is watching right now," she replies, "The pirates have been working through the floors. They…they can't be far away now."
"We'll need to get moving soon then," Sam replies, sitting up, "There are a lot of ways up and down, they can't possibly cover all of them–"
"You were crying," someone else interrupts.
"As I was saying–"
"Don't pretend I'm not here," Natalie Lacroix pouts, "You were crying and saying something about Danny."
Sam takes a deep breath, counting to ten, "It's not relevant, Barbie," she snorts.
"Look, I know you don't like me," she frowns, "But I'd like to think we can get along. We're literally in the same boat here."
Sam chews her lip, "Keep your plastic mitts off of Danny."
"I can still eat the eye candy though, right?"
"No."
"Can you seriously blame me for wanting to look at that?! Admit it," she smirks, "if our positions were switched, you probably couldn't either. That's a bit unfair, don't you think?"
Sam clenches her jaw, "…yeah. Fine. Just look quietly."
"I can't believe you two are arguing over him," Pamela frowns.
"…she's joking, right?" Natalie raises an eyebrow, "She realizes that he's like…smoking hot, doesn't she? I mean, he was cute in the pool, but now he's just…" she hums.
"Sexy," Sam finishes.
Pamela coughs, "Wait, Sammykins, you haven't–surely not, right?"
"Have you?" Natalie presses, "You seem really…comfortable around each other…familiar with his body…"
"That's because I've had to patch him up for years," Sam replies quietly, "Not because we…" she groans, "…conversations I never thought I'd have and don't know how I got into…"
"So…those scars…he said they were from a car crash…"
"Ghost hunting," Sam replies, "there are a lot of supernatural villains that show up in Amity Park."
"I should've kept that restraining order on him," Pamela growls, "Something so dangerous…"
"Restraining order?"
"Not for any real reason," Sam snorts, "she just decided that she didn't like my choice in friends because Danny's parents are…eccentric…and put one on him."
"They made her wear a floral-print dress before they would remove it!" Ida shouts from beyond the door, "Talk about cruel and unusual punishment!"
"And it looked so good on you–"
"It was a superbly ugly dress," Sam grimaces, "Not just because I'm a Goth. I don't think anyone in their right mind would wear that."
"What did it look like?" Natalie presses.
"Bright, Pepto-Bismol pink, with puffy sleeves and canary-yellow flowers," She makes a face, "Awful. Absolutely awful."
"You really need to wear more color," Pamela defends.
"Black is always in fashion," she retorts, "Besides, pink is the puddle's color."
"…puddle?" the blond questions.
"Paulina Sanchez," she spits, "The most popular girl of Casper High. Head cheerleader. Freshman year, Danny drooled after her every time she walked into sight…it ticked me off. I could step in her and not get wet."
"You sure?" Natalie asks, "You seem prone to judge pretty quickly."
"We were trapped in the ghost zone, with several groups scattered around, Danny was hurt – his mom thought he was dead – and what does Paulina do? Complain about the fact that the explosion that separated us all made her hair a little frizzy."
"Oh…"
"And not to mention, when Danny asked her to Homecoming, she only said yes because she thought she was stealing him from me. When I told her it didn't – we weren't dating at the time – she immediately left to dump him."
"Wait…she didn't want to date him?" Natalie holds up her hands, "I mean–"
"Danny wasn't very popular," Sam shrugs, "It was the beginning of Freshman year, and he'd only just begun hunting ghosts. He wasn't as tall as he is now, and he hadn't built up much muscle. Even when he did, he and Tucker kept to baggy clothes and purposely made it look like they were failing gym. He continued to let Dash shove him into lockers and pound him."
"Why?!"
"Because we didn't want anyone to know what we were doing. Beating up Dash would've tipped people off. Baggy clothes hide the muscles, but…they also help hide the bandages and gauze. No one knew what we were doing until the field trip in Junior year. We still keep it quiet, though. My parents only learned about it all the other day. Danny's parents found out during the field trip…I think Tuck's parents are still completely clueless."
"You…really live a dangerous life, don't you?" Natalie asks soberly.
"Yeah, we do," she thinks back to the dream, "And if anyone ends up dead, it'll be Danny. He's reckless like that."
His voice when his evil, future self had threatened her…
"Don't you dare!"
It hadn't sounded like him. It was raw, burning rage, refined in hatred. It was an unfamiliar voice, but it sent shivers down her spine. She'd heard the darkness in him; perhaps that had been the goal. Perhaps that was part of the nightmare.
The only way he can be free…"He's the type to try and carry the world on his shoulders," she whispers, "He'll die long before he lets anyone get hurt,"…is to die.
But...could I survive that?