*peeks* Hello, guys? *hides from thrown tomatoes*
*smirks evilly at other self's situation* How's that for binding me to a chair, huh? How d'you like it?
*tomatoes are thrown* EEP! *also hides*
*also smirks evilly while wiping tomato gush from imaginary face* Idiot.
*blows raspberry and turns to readers* Well, I must apologize (SOOORRRYYYEEE!) on our behalves – but the one–year–plus delay––
*gasps*ONE–YEAR–PLUS DELAY? HOW COULD YOU?
*winces* Um, yes. As I was saying, it was because of the existence of a big computer–crashing virus, which pretty much ruined my old computer. So, no files left, no computer to write, no anything.
Oooooh, I get it. So that's why we are writing in the Microsoft Word '97 in this rickety computer, isn't it?
*nods* Yes, yes it is. My father finally fixed me something to write in, after a year or so. Now, we're busy typing up all the fanfiction written in pen–and–paper during that aforementioned year.
*glares at readers* Did you really think we'd spend all this time lazing about? Well, YOU'RE WRONG!
Ahem. Well, to answer your questions (thanks for the concern), the dog–attack injuries I mentioned last chapter didn't heal without consequence: I have developed a "post–traumatic necrosis" on my right arm (something about the cells in the tissue being dead or whatever; we don't understand doctor–ramblingese) which hurts whenever I make some effort with it or when the air is more humid and the like.
*whistles* Wow. That's a lot of bad luck. Are you sure no one jinxed us?
*shrugs* Probably a classmate of ours. Or our PE teacher. Or really influential world–leaders which we have blackmailed... Or––
Ok, we get it. By the way, last chapter was somewhat angsty wasn't it? I just reread it... Along with the rest of the story. The bad grammar burns my eyes!
O.o' You're right! Wait, you're right?
*glares* I have my moments, you know? Anyways, we will be correcting the old chappies from both NMWAGH (which has also been updated) and STT whenever we have time, as well as posting some new stuff. By the way, a gigantic THANK YOU to all our lovely reviewers, also from last chapter... Which I was certain that I had put there, but it seems like it isn't so. So THANK YOU to piequeenthegreat (x2 - lol), xSerenityIsn'tAlwaystheAnswerx (I didn't think it would be so, either. Hopefully, none of the other chappies will be like that), Looka'sMagicHell (x2), wolfhead, AvalonXNaruto (I'll try to ASAP; the TT one sounds interesting - I've always liked that pairing!), keira-kyuketsuki and Jaded Jimmie!
'Nuff rambling. On with the fic!
NOOOOOO! I WANTED TO SA––
Sam + Twin = Trouble
Girls Who Like Trouble
When she opened her eyes, she didn't recognize her surroundings.
Sam Manson didn't like it.
Sam Manson also wondered why she was thinking about herself in the third person, and then decided not to concern herself with such matters.
Rising from the uncomfortable bed on which she was lying, and frowning in order to escape the blinding whiteness of the room, she surveyed her surroundings dazedly.
The room was almost completely white, with metallic machinery covering one wall. There was a door but no window, the room being illuminated by a single electrical lamp on the ceiling. An IV was attached to her arm, as well as some other tubes that were connected to one of the machines.
She deduced she was in some kind of hospital, if the open back of the medical gown was anything to go by.
Ripping the needles attached to her arm (she hated those things), she unsteadily positioned her feet on the floor, holding the metal handlebars on the sides of her bed to help her rise. The ground whooshed closer, and she just had the time to put her hands in front of her before her face greeted the tiled floor.
"Ouch."
Her voice sounded raspy from the lack of use and she would have been very grateful if she was offered some water right that moment. Alas, if wishes were kittens, beggars would have great purring balls of fuzz to keep them warm and–– what was the point again? Oh, yes. She didn't get any water. Wish not granted and all.
Sam Manson didn't think she could stand up, so she crawled to the door, forehead and nose red from the close meeting with the ground, ready to leave the room before she noticed (once again) the distinct lack of clothing on her backside.
She groaned, laying her head on the floor once again.
OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL
Danny Fenton paced back and forth–– or rather, floated back and forth while swinging his legs in the air, seeing as he wasn't really touching the ground. He muttered repeatedly under his breath, eyebrows furrowed, while Tucker Foley, his oldest friend and one of the best (right next to one ultra–recyclo–vegetarian Goth girl) messed around with his PDA.
"––I mean, what if she doesn't wake up? It's Sam, for Pariah's sake; we might as well be dead without her––"
Samara Manson (the also–ultra–recyclo–vegetarian–but–not–Goth twin of the girl occupying Danny's mind) strolled in holding a pair of Nasty burgers, a third, tofu one shoved in her mouth.
"Eef fonffa fee faffigh, faa fou?"
Danny stopped his pacing – floating, whatever – and Tucker dropped his beloved PDA for a second, rising an eyebrow at the red–headed girl. She swallowed heavily, clearing her throat before repeating:
"She's gonna' be alright, ya' know?" Samara handed both guys their burgers, Tucker immediately biting into his while Danny eyed his before putting it down. "She 'as been through worse and came right up. It's gonna' be ok."
Danny resumed his pacing as if it hadn't been interrupted. Tucker shrugged.
"––she is Sam, and Sam is just––"
"It doesn't stop us from being worried, you know. Sam is our best friend. The third part of the trio. We just... We'd be incomplete without her."
"––should have helped her earlier, stupid Box Ghost for making me late––"
The techno–geek sighed, taking another bite.
"And now Danny is blaming himself."
Samara rolled her eyes.
"I really dunno' what the fuss's all 'bout. It was her own fault––"
"SHUT UP!" Both Samara and Tucker jumped at Danny's shout. "It wasn't her fault and you know it! She was dying when I found her! You're her own damn sister, you should be more concerned!"
A loud crash sounded from the inside, pausing Danny mid–rant.
"SOMEONE GET HER!"
"AAAAAAAH!"
"STOP THAT!"
"MAKE HER STOP, MAKE HER STOP!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
"GET BACK HERE!"
"WHO WAS WATCHING HER ROOOM?"
"GET HER, DAMMIT!"
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAH!"
"OUCH! YOU DAMN BITCH!"
"SHE BIT ME! SHE BLOODY BIT ME!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
"GET HER OFF ME!"
"SHE'S GETTING AWAY!"
"WHO CARES? SHE BIT ME, DAMMIT!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
"WOULD YOU STOP SCREAMIN'!"
Danny, Tucker and Samara exchanged looks. There were very few people capable of inducing such a reaction, and only one of them was inside that same hospital.
"SAM!"
And the three ran to the door.
Things had been going well for Sam Manson until she had bumped into that annoying screaming person. After knocking out the first couple of doctors (finding something to clothe her decently meanwhile, thank you very much), her process to the entrance had been almost straightforward.
Keyword: almost.
Kicking someone's head and clasping her hands over her ears at the same time (really, could the screaming person be any more hysterical? Scratch that – she didn't want to find out), the petite raven–haired teen ran for a window, seeing as the door had too many people on the way. Kick on the left, avoid person on the right, reach for the window...
It was locked.
Bummer.
Not having time to think, since she had gained too much impulse already, she sped up even more, throwing herself against the glass with all her might. The window exploded with the impact, glass shards glinting merrily in the light as she landed heavily on concrete.
Ouch, she thought, looking up at a pair of brilliant blue eyes that seemed strangely familiar for a reason.
"Sam?"
Danny Fenton gaped at the girl that had flown out of the window.
It had been a strangely beautiful sight, the raven–haired beauty clad in white, surrounded by sparkling crystal lights. That is, until gravity took its toll.
The girl slammed down onto the sidewalk, head hitting it with a loud 'crack!' while glass shards rained down on her. She seemed a bit dazed, but managed to look up with blurry eyes as the teenage halfa recognized her.
"Sam?"
She shifted, getting unsteadily on her hands and knees before studying him more intensely.
"Wh––," she coughed, and little droplets of blood fell on the grey concrete. She paid them no mind. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"
Tucker and Samara watched as Danny's world fell apart.
NASTY BURGER
am Manson slurped the last few drops of her Nasty Cherry Explosion Shake, studying the three teens wearily.
"How do I know if you're telling the truth?"
Samara shrugged, looking as if she could care less if her sister believed them or not. Tucker sighed as Danny looked out of the window, his eyes dark and hallowed.
"The thing is," explained Tucker. "You don't. For all you know, we could be telling you a bunch of lies. But how can you explain that we knew your name and that she," he pointed at Samara, who rolled her eyes. "Looks just like you?"
Sam cocked her head.
"I don't trust her," she said, eyes narrowed. "And if she really is Samara, I'll trust her even less. Right now, I only trust myself–– and perhaps Blue Eyes over there."
Danny shifted his gaze towards her but remained silent. Tucker snorted.
"It figures. Once lovebirds, always lovebirds. But why wouldn't you trust your own sister?"
Sam tucked a strand of raven hair, the long red locks concealed under the wig.
"Lovebirds? Why would you–– Nevermind," she sighed, spotting Danny awkwardly shifting in his seat. "And I don't trust Samara for reasons I wouldn't tell strangers about."
Samara looked away, avoiding everyone's gaze.
"Really?" Tucker pressed on. "I'm sure that––"
"She doesn't want to talk about it, Tuck."
Sam's violet eyes shifted towards the sulking teen, who had spoken for the first time since his initial outburst, back at the entrance of the hospital. He stared at the table like it was the most interesting thing in the world since the invention of the little plastic things wrapped around toothpicks.
...Which had been invented by Sam's family. His mind was trapped on single–track mode.
"Why so sullen, Blue Eyes?" Sam's voice was uncharacteristically soft, considering that she had been loud–mouthed and boisterous since her memory loss. "You don't seem like the type to get depressed without a good reason."
Danny glanced at her, meeting her eyes uncomfortably.
"...No reason."
Tucker snorted once again.
"Liar."
Samara rose from her seat, the screeching of the chair breaking the silence that had been instilled over the table once again. She stretched, slinging her bag over her shoulder before announcing:
"Well, I'll be goin' home now. Nice ta see y'all and stuff, but I've got better things ta do."
The three teenagers left watched as she walked out of the double doors, not looking back. Both males gaped at the sight while Sam merely raised an eyebrow.
"...Did she just leave?"
"...I can't believe she just did that. I mean, it's her own sister!"
Sam quickly switched her empty cup of milkshake with Danny's while the boys weren't watching, drinking it in big gulps. The refreshing liquid felt great on her parched throat.
"So," she finally said, catching the boys' attention. "Tell me more about this 'Sam Manson' of yours."
Sam Manson was fascinated by Blue Eyes. Well, Danny, or so he had said.
She had never met anyone quite like him. Even though he was young, he seemed to be burdened by great responsibilities – though she had a feeling that her apparent 'memory loss' only served to weight him down even more. Strangely, she felt fairly guilty because of it, even if it wasn't (directly) her fault.
He seemed... peculiar, to say the least. Not exactly mysterious, but somewhat dark. Powerful, too – he exuded the kind of aura that made her shiver in anticipation. Caring and kind. Protective. He had unconsciously positioned himself so that his presence would ward off anyone who came near them. Though she was rather independent... She liked it.
She found her eyes being constantly drawn to his features. Blue eyes that looked warmer than they ought to be, though their intensity seemed to be shadowed by his thoughts; thoughts that she wanted to know about. A strong jaw line, not quite square but hard enough to give him an air of utter masculinity. Full lips, thinned and white by worry, that her gaze found more times than it should.
"Are you sure you don't remember anything?"
She sighed, line of thought interrupted.
"Quite."
Tucker studied her, shrugged, and went back to playing with his PDA again.
Danny sighed, and Sam found her gaze being drawn to his lips once again. If that hadn't been so, she would have missed the blue mist slipping through them.
Is that even normal?, she thought, watching as the male's eyes widened in alarm. He glanced around warily, going as far as to look up at the sky and crouching to look under the nearest dumpster.
"Tuck," he said warily, catching the techno–geek's attention. "We have a problem. Get Sam out of here."
Now this, Sam thought, is interesting.
Because as soon as Danny verified that the coast was clear, forgetting about the Goth girl's lack of memory, he transformed.
An ethereal white ring surrounded his waist, splitting in two as they ran through his body, substituting his shirt and jeans with a black and white spandex suit, a white 'DP' insignia on his chest. His hair turned ghostly white as his eyes glowed green, power radiating from every pore. Suddenly, Sam could comprehend his mystifying aura.
Huh. I guess I can't call him 'Blue Eyes' anymore, can I? At least, not all the time.
Tucker pulled at her hand, panicking at her blank expression.
"Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap–– This is not good!"
Her lips curled in a cunning smirk.
"Actually," she said as Danny flew off. "I think that things have become definitively more interesting around here."
Danny Phantom cursed under his breath as he searched for the ghost who had caused all this trouble.
I can't believe I transformed in front of her! She doesn't freakin' remember, damnit! How could I have been so stupid?
Ember waved at him, her hand ten centimetres away from his face.
"Oy, dipstick! I'm right here! Wake up!"
Danny stared blankly at her, for a moment. Ember took advantage of that and struck a punch–shaped chord on her guitar.
Needless to say, Danny went flying against a building.
PAY ATTENTION, DAMNIT!
Embarrassed from his lack of focus, Danny used the brick wall as a leverage to deliver a fast sucker punch to Ember's gut. Her ghostly blue hair flared up in rage. Danny clenched his fists, creating twin discs of ectoplasmatic energy. They stared at each other before attacking at the same time.
Under them, Sam watched, mesmerized. She felt shivers running down her spine, anticipation building. She wanted to test him, the ghost boy, Blue Eyes. She wanted to fight him. She wanted to kiss him. She could have cared less about the danger of confronting such a powerful being on her own, regardless of her intentions.
She was a girl who liked trouble, after all.
AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaand that's it for now!
*pouts*
Awww, is wittle inner mind sulkin' over not sayin' 'On with the fic'? Poor wittle–little teensy–weensy––
*sulks* SHADDUP!
*grins* Hehe, you shouldn't have tied me up for that long. Now, I'll have my revenge!
*still sulking* Anyways, we won't say that we'll update soon since... Well, look at all the other times we said it! Whenever we say 'SOON', we take longer to update.
*nods* Well, that's life! Hopefully we have improved our writing (and grammar) skills during the time we've been away.
*also nods* We'll see if we can correct the first chappies from each story (and try to make them better – we just realized how very much plotless they were).
Well, I guess that's it for now! *glares at inner self* Now, about you...
*gulps* Tell us what you think! And review if you want to save me!
*pounces*
*runs away screaming*
CIAAAAAOOOOOO!
Luv u!
GoThYk SyA (terribly sorry for the delay)(soon to change penname)