The End of the NeverEnding (Book 1)

by GhostWriter11202

When Violet moves to town, she takes a special liking to Danny Fenton. But there's more than what meets the eye. When Danny's "amnesia" prevents him from knowing the truth about what happened, he learns the hard way. By being pushed into the road. But when things finally start to fall into place, a chain reaction causes for Clockwork's involvement. That's when Danny has a choice.

3. Amnesia

Chapter 3 *Amnesia*

Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Uugh..." Slapping her alarm clock, Sam snuggled deeper into the warm cocoon of her tangled blankets, letting herself slip farther into unconsciousness. In her near-sleep state, she could hear the creaking of the stairs as a pair of heels and formal shoes made their way up the steps. Murmuring voices followed and Sam knew she had only mere seconds of blissful comfort left, so she decided to just get up rather than let her parents in.
She flung back her sheets and leapt to the door, flinging it open before they could knock. Coincidentally, she opened it to her mother's shaking hand. She still looked angry about the night before, but she tried to keep a tranquil expression. Jeremy stood right behind her, a distracted look in his eyes, almost tired. When he saw his daughter, he forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"You're breakfast is ready," Pamela said stiffly, talking to Sam as if she was a distant stranger, not her own blood and daughter. She refused to look her in the eye.
'Two can play at this game,' Sam thought irately.
"Fine. Thank you." Sam closed the door in her face. She didn't slam it; she wasn't that mad. At least, not at BOTH of them. She wasn't really angry at her father, just her mother.
Sam waited till she heard the footsteps drift down the hall and then down the stairs. When she knew the coast was clear, she pulled on her shoes and grabbed her jacket after a few moments of indecision, then she gently opened the door back up and walked downstairs, remembering to act indifferent all the while. She didn't want her mom thinking she was upset by her avoidance. Honestly, she couldn't care less. Sitting down noisily, just to get on her mother's nerves, Sam picked up her fork with reluctance and poked at her breakfast, glaring at Mrs. Manson's back. Pamela Manson just ignored her like she wasn't even there. Mr. Manson saw, and could probably feel, the tension between them and tried to settle things down.
"H-How about we all just sit down and enjoy this home-cooked meal, huh? That sounds like a great idea," he tried, his eyebrows raised to the point that he actually looked like he had no eyebrows at all. But to no avail. Mrs. Manson seemed to be ignoring him as well. She scurried around the kitchen, pretending to have tons of work to do. She fixed the angle of the pans, organized all the silverware in alphabetical formation, scrubbed the stove, and scrambled with the plates and bowls. She did all these trivial tasks just to evade her daughter and husband. Her own family. Sam felt a twinge of hurt from this new realization, but stamped it down with a passion, not wanting to fall into her mother's pitiful clutches. And by the looks of it, Sam's grandma was smart enough to skip breakfast.
Sam stood up rigidly, her chair scraping loudly against the tiles. "I'm leaving," she announced, snatching her book bag fluidly and marching right out the door. She didn't wait for an "I love you", or a "Goodbye, have a nice day!". Why would she even bother? It's not like she got those any other regular day.
Sam stopped by Tucker's house first, knocking impatiently.
He opened it and stepped past her, seeming overly happy this glum, disappointing morning.
"Hey, Sam! What?" he asked when he saw her sour expression.
"Your happiness is annoying. Can't one girl have a horrible morning without some peppy little twit making it ten times worse?"
He held his hands up in mock surrender, knowing to keep quiet when Sam was in one of her moods. Which was quite often. "Nope! Go ahead, resume your sulking, I won't interrupt!"
"Never mind, I'm sorry. I just can't take anymore bad news."
"Whaddya mean?"
She looked at him with a weary attitude. "We're...moving."
He stared at her vacuously. She continued, "My family and I are moving out of Amity Park. As in "not here"."
"But-Why?" Tucker exclaimed, his eyes wide with confusion. Sam shook her head with the same feeling of confusion.
"My mom is crazy! That's all I have to say! Crazy!"
"Huh. So, this is like, for real?" he asked flatly, no emotion whatsoever.
"Yup. She's lost it."
They walked in silence. Neither of them said a word as they rounded the corner and neared Fenton Works.
"How are you going to break it to Danny?" Tucker asked solemnly, worry filled his teal eyes.
"I...I'll just say it. There's no need for avoiding the topic...I mean...there's no way to break it easily to him," Sam muttered bluntly. Tucker just nodded understandingly.
Walking up the steps seemed to take forever, but when they finally reached the door, they glanced uncertainly at each other. An unspoken signal seemed to pass between them in that moment, a message that agreed to tell the truth no matter what happened. And when Sam thought about it, and no doubt Tucker was thinking the same thing, she really didn't know why she was making such a big deal out of telling Danny that she was moving away. She'd told Tucker just fine. She hadn't broken out in heart wrenching sobs or had a mental breakdown. She was fine. Sad, angry, disappointed, and worried, but fine.
Sam's nervous amethyst eyes traveled back to the door, and she made her hand, if unwillingly, knock on the door precisely three times. At first, nothing happened. But then they could hear movement inside and the suspicious blend of multiple voices. It sounded like they were discussing something important in whispers, because still no one came to the door. Sam cleared her throat vociferously to get their attention. Everything quieted down. The voices stopped and the movement as well.
Sam gave Tucker a weird look before she turned back to the wide door.
"Um, hello? We can hear you," Sam called through the thick wood. Sam thought she heard someone whisper "quiet!", but couldn't be sure when the door swung open to reveal an exhausted-looking Jazz. She only opened the door a fraction, not wide enough for them to slip through and past her.
"Yes?" she asked lightly, pretending to be patient.
Jack came up behind Jazz, irritation written all over his face. "You tell whoever it is to stay away! I cannot deal with th-" But when Jack Fenton saw who it was, he froze mid-threat and put down his shaking fist. He looked tired, too. So did Maddie Fenton, who stood behind him depressingly. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her head hung. She shuffled away and back into the living room. Jack slouched over and rubbed his face, turning around and heading back into the house and out of view. The house was dark and none of the lights were on, like they'd just woken up. Jazz caught on to their confusion and fidgeted uneasily.
"W-What time is it, exactly?" she asked, tilting her head towards them to hear their answer.
Snapping out of her puzzlement, Sam shook her head. "It's 8:30. School."
"What? Oh! I better get ready!" Jazz began to shut the door, but Tucker stuck his foot between the doorway and the door.
"Jazz, what's wrong? Why're you all...like this?" Tucker asked, gesturing to the whole Fenton family. Except for Danny, who didn't seem to be anywhere near. Tucker's apprehension was building to its highest.
"I just...overslept," she replied lamely. "And my parents...they're just tired from working. Yeah." The excuse was totally unconvincing, but she didn't give any more information.
"Jazz, I know you're lying. It's obvious. What's-"
"I have to get ready, see you guys later." She tried to shut the door again, but faster. Tucker caught it with his hand just before it closed.
"Wait, where's Danny?"
Jazz flinched at the name "Danny", and looked away jadedly. Her left hand came up to grasp her upper right arm.
"He's not here," she whispered resignedly, and shut the door before they could ask more.
"So, is he, like, at school already, or something?" Tucker asked through the door. No answer.
Finally, Sam tugged on his sleeve to get him to move. Her eyebrows were knitted together, but she motioned for them to get going. They didn't want to be late.
Once again on their way to seven hours of torture, their footsteps fell in unison, sounding as one pair of feet.
"What's with Jazz?" Tucker eventually asked. He kept his eyes straight ahead.
"You mean what's with ALL of them?" Sam corrected, wondering the same thing. "They look so tired and depressed. It's...different seeing Mr. and Mrs. Fenton like that. They're usually talking a mile a minute."
"Yeah, and Jazz was so out of it. She didn't seem to remember we had school. Usually she's the one nagging us to do good in our academics so we don't end up in jail. You know, I've always questioned that theory..."
"No, Tucker, you won't go to jail for failing school," Sam said flatly, irascible at his easily distracted personality.
"Oh. That's a relief." He sighed.
Rolling her eyes, Sam asked, "So what do you think she meant when she said Danny wasn't there?"
"I'm not sure. But he may be at school."
"And do you honestly believe that? The way Jazz said it made it sound as though they were mourning his death rather than him being at school."
"That's true. But it's a possibility."
"Well, yeah, I guess. But not a likely one. Something's up," Sam said apprehensively.
"Chill out. It's probably nothing," Tucker said, trying to console her. She didn't buy it.
The school appeared quickly and they hurried to class, already 10 minutes late.
"Remember, Sam. Don't worry yourself over it. Promise?" Tucker reminded. He was genuinely concerned. She nodded absently, crossing her fingers behind her back. She wasn't promising anything.
"Sure, whatever."
School dragged. It felt like it was twice as long and twice as boring. All she heard the teachers say was "blah, blah, blah," and didn't pay attention to Paulina when she commented on Sam's outfit like she did every other day.
She finally snapped out of her trance-like state when Tucker flicked her upside the forehead at lunch.
"Sam? Sam? You awake?" Tucker asked as he waved his hand back and forth in front of her face.
Jumping, she looked around dazedly. "Huh? Wha-? O-Oh. Mmhm, I'm fine! Great."
He sat back down with a wary look. Eyeing her suspiciously, he said, "Are you thinking about the Fentons? I told you not to worry!"
"No! I'm not!" Sam protested, splaying her hands out irritatingly.
"Sam," he said knowingly. He raised an eyebrow.
"Fine! But don't tell me you haven't been worried either!" she challenged, pursing her lips.
"Of course! It's all I can think about! But don't you think we should save this talk for after school?" he whispered conspicuously, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth. He subtly flicked his turquoise eyes to an eavesdropping Violet, who stood casually with a nearly empty tray about arm's length away. She gave them a brief, unfriendly smile. She moved on, stalling to hear more, then sat down only a table away. She was still listening as she started up a ploy conversation with another student.
"Why's she being so...rude?" Sam asked, remembering the radiant, smiling Violet that she had seen the last time she'd been at Danny's house.
Tucker was still staring at her darkly. "I don't know, but I don't trust her."
"That's what I said the first time!" Sam exclaimed, frustrated that Tucker was taking the credit for distrusting Violet first. It was totally her idea.
"Okay! Settle down!" Tucker whispered harshly. Violet was still listening. After that they went the rest of the school day in silence, occasionally exchanging hellos or casual everyday things, because no matter where they were, Violet was there. She never missed a chance to spy on them, and it became immensely bothersome.
When the last bell rang Sam zipped up and out of the school doors, begrudgingly waiting for Tucker as he packed his book bag in mega snail speed.
"What's taking so long?" Sam whined when he ambled up to her.
"Violet was stalking my locker, I had to get rid of her! I told her I would meet her outback," he explained in a near whispering voice.
"And are you?" she asked.
"Nope. Let's go!" he yelled when he reached the sidewalk. He ran past, arms flinging wildly, and up the street.
After overcoming her confused shock, she called, "Whoa! Wait up!" And took off after him.
It took only minutes to reach Fenton Works at the speed they were going. Sam had easily outrun Tucker by the time they had reached the corner of the street.
Skidding to a stop at the bottom of the steps, Sam took two at a time. Tucker, well, he couldn't stop fast enough and barreled into the trashcan that sat at the end of the pavement.
"Tucker, we don't have time for this! Stop playing around!" Sam scolded, bounding back down the steps to help him untangle himself. He simply groaned in response. Sam helped him up and went back to the door. Tucker scrabbled to hurry to the door as Sam knocked three times again, just as before.
But, being Tucker, he managed to ram straight into Jazz and end up on his face for the third time that hour. He'd had a run-in with Dash earlier.
"Ow! What in the world!" Jazz screamed when Tucker crashed into her, sending them both flying back into the house. Sam watched with all this with an amused smile, and stepped widely over a sprawled Tucker and a baffled Jazz.
"Hi, Jazz! Just droppin' in," Sam said as she yanked both of them up off the ground. She was still snickering as Jazz brushed off her pants.
"That's one way to get my attention," Jazz grumbled.
"Sorry, I'm not very hand, foot, eye - and for that matter - body coordinated," Tucker apologized, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Taking a long look around, he stopped rubbing his neck and walked slowly into the living room.
"Why's it so dark? Where're all the lights?" he asked, sitting down heavily. Sam and Jazz followed him in, but Jazz seemed distracted. It took a few moments for her to answer.
"We haven't been...around lately."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, eyebrows furrowed. When Jazz spoke it was faltering and hesitant, like she didn't want to tell them anymore than she had to. She never really looked straight at them when she spoke, she was always fidgeting or messing around with strands of hair and miscellaneous objects.
"Well-" she started.
"Jazz! We better get going, honey!" Maddie Fenton's voice called from somewhere else in the house. Jazz glanced at the doorway, then back at Sam and Tucker. They waited for her response.
She eventually sighed in defeat, swatting her hand backwards for them to follow. "Come on. I suppose you're still his friends." Then she left the room, leaving them as confused as ever. She poked her head back around the woodwork. "Coming?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. But where are we going?" Sam asked, not moving despite her words.
Jazz grew grave again, saddening at Sam's curiosity.
"You'll see," was all she said. Sam glanced at Tucker, who gave a halfhearted smile and a shrug. Sam looked back to where Jazz had been standing, then with a deep breath, went after her. Tucker came right behind her. Jazz was waiting at the door patiently and went out when they came along. Then they all got into the Fenton RV. Maddie and Jack were already in their seats talking in hushed tones. When Sam and Tucker climbed in, they stopped talking all together. Sam threw Jazz a questioning glance, but she ignored it, utterly focused on the outside world. And in the midst of all the silence and unspoken words, Tucker found the urge to blurt something out.
"Wait, where's Danny?"
Nobody answered, but that just made Sam all the more paranoid.
"What aren't you telling us?" she snapped. "Where is he?" But again, silence. Instead of prying for more answers, Sam crossed her arms heatedly and sighed loudly. Would they ever explain? Suddenly, Tucker reached over and patted her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. She knew he meant well but didn't want to be bothered, so she just gave him a short, grateful, emotionless grin and turned to the window to watch the newly falling drops of rain race down the glass. Tucker knew this was a sign to back off, so he turned to his own side of the seat and, within a matter of seconds, was snoring softly.
As the vehicle hit a pothole, Sam was jerked awake when her head hit the window pane. She hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep, and found her awakening rather harsh. Yawning, she shook Tucker awake.
"How long have we been asleep?" she asked, suppressing another yawn.
He checked his watch drowsily. "Half an hour to an hour." He looked up to see Jazz still in the exact same position from before they'd fallen asleep. She was rigid and stared out the window unseeingly.
"Jazz? Are you okay?" Sam asked, following Tucker's gaze. Jazz jumped at the sound of her name and whirled around frantically.
"What? Oh, yeah. I'm just tired. I'm fine."
"Why're you so tired? And them, too." Tucker gestured to Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, who was falling asleep at the wheel. "Watch out!"
Jack's eyes widened and he swerved, narrowly missing a school bus.
"We were up all night, okay? I was worried when he didn't come home and then we set out to find him...and-and when we did...I didn't know what to do! So I called my parents and they came and the-then we stayed up with him, waiting for him to wake up! But...he didn't...I was just so worried and they're worried and I don't want you to worry, so I didn't tell you so you wouldn't worry! And then he did wake up...but he doesn't...he doesn't..." Jazz muttered in a rush. It looked like she was talking to herself the way she spoke and stared down at the floor blankly. She looked extremely exhausted, and they could tell the lack of sleep was taking its toll on her.
"Jazz, Jazz, sshh. Relax, it's okay," Sam soothed, uncomfortable by Jazz's out-of-mind condition. She was itching to bombard Jazz with questions, but figured it would be the best idea at the moment. Jazz was shaking.
"How late were you up? You look...eh," Tucker said, concerned.
"All night. When you came by this morning, we'd just gotten home," Jazz murmured, laying down with heavy lids. "We'd just gotten home from the..." And she was sleeping, her eyelids fully closed. Her breathing was even and she looked deep into sleep already. Jack Fenton glanced back at them in the mirror with envy, obviously wishing he was the one laying down.
"What do you think that all meant?" Sam asked Tucker anxiously. She was speaking in a whisper, afraid to wake Jazz. Tucker just shrugged his shoulders feebly, unable to come up with an explanation.
"Are we almost there...wherever that is?" Tucker asked. Maddie nodded her head but didn't say anything. Abruptly, a thought came to mind. Sam thought about what she'd said earlier when they had been heading to school.
"We're not going to the funeral home, right?" she asked, leaning out of her seat.
Maddie actually laughed, a short, bark of a laugh, but a laugh nevertheless. "No, we're not. Although I guess it does seem that way, the way we've been acting. Don't worry."
Sam allowed herself to breath. "Okay, thank goodness."
"Would one of you please wake Jazz? We're here," Jack said, turning on the windshield wipers. Tucker struggled to wake her up as Sam unbuckled quickly and clambered to the front, leaning against the two front seats to see through the blurred glass. They'd reached their destination. The hospital.
Sam blanched.
"What? What happened? You're just visiting a relative or friend or something, right?" Sam scrambled for the words, unsure of their motives.
"Right. Relative," Jack muttered. Tucker came to the front to see what the big deal was. When he saw where they were, apprehension dawned on his face.
Jazz stretched behind them, saying through a yawn, "Are we there?"
"Yes. Let's go," Maddie replied. None of them had any real emotion in them, they all seemed drained. Sam began to wonder how their night had really gone. And more importantly, she wondered how bad it was that they were pushed to such depression. She dreaded to know, so she didn't ask.
She still had a dying hope that it wasn't who she thought it was that they were talking about. It could be any family member! But of course, her fears were confirmed and her hope snuffed out when Jack was talking to the secretary.
"Danny Fenton. Yes. Third floor. Mmhm. Thank you." And they got on the elevator. Sam's stomach seemed to be doing flips, and not just because of the elevator. So this is why Jazz had kicked them out in the morning and it explained her weariness. This is why Danny hadn't walked with them to school and hadn't shown up. What had he been doing last night? There was something he hadn't wanted to tell her, could this be the result of whatever it was? And if so, why hadn't he said anything? When he was better, she'd ask these questions. First, she had to help in any way she could.
The elevator lights flashed at the top and rung once. The silver doors opened with a swoosh and revealed a pure white lobby. The air was stale with disinfectant and medicine. A small TV sat on the far side of the lobby and a couch and a chair encircled it, with only three people occupying them. None of them seemed to know one another, so no conversation was heard. The TV was on mute and had the words flowing across them, too fast for anyone to actually care to read. Without the sound of TV or talking, the silence was deafening, only the ringing in their ears to be heard. A doctor or nurse milled through, but that was it. No matter their job or profession, they all went back behind the huge, metallic doors to the far right that led to the patient's rooms.
Sam let the scene sink in and determined it as a little creepy, only because it looked so empty. But that thought triggered a memory and she gasped and turned to Tucker.
"Aren't you deadly afraid of hospitals?" she asked worriedly. Even as she said it she knew she was right. He was frozen to the spot and stared straight ahead, plain to see in his eyes that he was not too happy to be here. But amazingly, he managed to nod his head once. She didn't think he'd be able to move, because he was so rigid.
"Come on, you two. The elevator's closing," Jazz said as she and her family moved into the waiting room.
"Oh, right. Tuck, get over it just this once," Sam firmly said. She grabbed his arm and tugged him out, just as the door was closing. They heard the click as it snapped shut.
"Is he okay?" Maddie asked fearfully, probably not wanting a throw up scene.
"Naw, he's great, he's just...nervous," Sam said, swatting her hand dismissively. Tucker was stock still.
"Maybe he should sit out here and wait," Maddie suggested, still unsure about letting Tucker around other patients if he was ill.
"Nope! I feel fantastic! Let's go!" Tucker practically shouted, perking up immediately and breaking from his fear-induced state. Sam guessed he didn't want to be alone. He began making his way toward the metal doors and stopped, waiting for them to catch up.
Sam was surprised by his bravado, but went along with them. Now passing the the dividing doors, she could see the ongoing doorways of rooms. There was more nurses and doctors zipping through and around, none of them stopping to chat or ask them anything. Which Sam felt just fine with. She didn't want Tucker hyperventilating.
"310, 311, 312...here. Room 313," Sam heard Jack muttering to himself. The door was closed and no sound came from inside. It was still that endless silence. Sam felt queasiness become overpowering and she took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Before we go in, how serious is it?" she asked, the uneasiness washing over her again.
"Well, in terms, pretty bad. But physically, I don't quite know. But I'm sure the doctors will figure it out...hopefully," Jazz informed, trying to put on a reassuring face, but failing miserably.
"Oh." Sam literally had no idea what that meant, but pretended to know exactly what Jazz was talking about.
Jack put his hand on the doorknob and glanced at Sam and Tucker, but for what reason they don't know. Then he opened the door wide enough only for them to get in and they all went in single file. Tucker went ahead of Sam, so she was last in the line. As she went in, she closed her eyes tightly. She didn't want to see.
"Sam, can you please shut the door?" she heard someone ask. She didn't look to see who it was, but she shut the door quietly, eyes still closed. She could still hear the shuffling of everyone's feet as they all got settled into the small room. She heard a pair of feet that were faster than anybody else's, and it seemed to be Jazz, because she could hear her sniffle and then the groan of a chair as she sat down. When everyone stopped moving around, Sam decided it was time to open her eyes.
Opening her eyes, she saw Tucker in the corner of the room, a bit pale, rocking on his heels and hugging his arms. He was still creeped out by the whole hospital thing. Jack and Maddie Fenton were standing side by side with their arms around each other a little ways off. Jazz was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed, her hand in Danny's.
As far as Sam could tell, he was perfectly fine. No casts, no cuts, no bandages. His head was tilted to the side and his right arm lay across his stomach. He looked like he was just sleeping.
Confused, she asked, "What happened? He looks okay to me."
"I thought I explained to you earlier," Jazz said.
"Well, you weren't very decipherable."
"Oh. Well, he never came home last night, so I was worried. I set out to find him and...I did. But he wasn't conscious and I panicked. I called my parents and they came. They had no idea what to do, so we called 911. They came and we rode along. We stayed up all night waiting. When Danny eventually woke up...he...he didn't...he doesn't...remember." Jazz's eyes filled with tears but she managed to wipe them away before they could fall.
"But...I don't understand," Sam complained, getting frustrated with Jazz.
"He doesn't remember...us. Nothing. Not even his own name!" Jazz was near to hysteria. "The doctors can't figure it out! They're completely lost."
Sam didn't know what to say. Or if she should say something.
But as she searched for anything to say, the door opened and banged into her.
"Oh, dear! I'm so sorry! Excuse me," whoever it was apologized. Sam stepped out of the way quickly and let them pass by. A doctor with gray hair and a mustache came bustling in, clipboard in hand.
"Hello, are you Mr. and Mrs. Fenton?" He pointed to Jack and Maddie.
"Yes," they answered in unison. The doctor beckoned them with his finger and they followed out into the hall. The door was left slightly ajar and Sam leaned against the wall to eavesdrop on the conversation. Jazz's explanation wasn't totally satisfying.
"So?" she heard Jack say.
"There's no evident reports of head trauma. We took some tests, but nothing's wrong. Nothing that we can detect, at least. We have no idea how and why this happened, but we'll keep trying. Trust me, we'll do everything in our power to figure this out. We've been monitoring heart and brain activity, but there's no abnormal occurrences as far as we can see. He's been asleep since 2:00 p.m. and hasn't woken up since. The time is 4:45 p.m. He refuses to speak to us and hasn't eaten yet. He doesn't trust us enough."
"And has he...?" Maddie trailed off, assuming he knew what she meant.
And he did. Shaking his head dismally, he said, "No signs of remembrance. I'm sorry." They just nodded their heads in acceptance, but obviously didn't accept it.
Sam heard their footsteps coming back and darted away from the door so they wouldn't know she was listening. They came in looking as they did before, but anyone could see they were a little distraught. But they tried their best to look indifferent.
"Tucker, sweetie, would you mind coming out from that corner? You should be over here when he wakes up," Maddie said. Tucker looked up from his arms and walked haltingly over. He stood beside Jack and Maddie, unsure of what to do. Sam glanced back at Jazz, who had already fall back asleep on the edge of the bed. Sam guessed she wasn't used to lack of sleep.
"What do we do now?" Sam asked, the excruciating silence becoming awkward, and finding the only thing to look at, being Danny, quiet and unconscious, unsettlingly upsetting. She didn't want to see him when he was like this. It didn't feel right. He always had something to say to break the tension, or some smart comeback if someone insulted him. He was easygoing, but he could be high-strung when the time was right. She was nervous to see what he would say when he was awake.
"What can we do? We'll just have to wait till he wakes up. We don't like to leave him alone now that he has no memory of us. We want his first, new memories to be with his family." Maddie Fenton spoke like she was talking about the death of her son, which, in a strange, sad way, was true. It broke Sam's heart.
"Aaachoooo!" Tucker sneezed, which was probably the loudest sound in the hospital. Sam heard multiple doors slam shut out in the hallway, possibly the annoyed patients and family that didn't want to be interrupted from whatever they were doing. She also heard the crumpling of sheets and blankets and the screeching of a chair as it scraped against the snow white flooring.
Jazz had been startled awake and jumped up from her seat. Danny stirred in his sleep.
"Tucker!" Jazz hissed, fully awake. She gave him an accusatory glare and glanced back to Danny, waiting to see if he woke up. The doctor from earlier came bumbling in and Sam got a glimpse at his name card. His name was Dr. Gorrison. He scurried in with the same clipboard and searched around the room.
"What was that?" he nearly screeched.
"I sneezed," Tucker said bashfully, raising his hand hesitantly. He gave an uneasy grin as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"Really? It sounded like a cat was being put through a shredder. Well, if that's the case, carry on."
Sam watched them converse amiably, but saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Jazz was sitting back in the same seat as before and talking to a dreary Danny. He looked utterly confused and perplexed. The heart monitor sped up a bit as he seemed to panic. And no wonder, he was technically in a room full of strangers and had no idea what was going on.
The doctor noticed he was awake also and came to the opposite side of the bed.
Bending down to eye level with Danny, he said cheerfully, "Ah-ha, Danny, you're awake."
He stared at him blankly. "Huh?"
"Danny. Your name is Danny."
"Oh. It is?"
"Yes. We went over this a while ago. And I'm Dr. Gorrison. This is Maddie and Jack Fenton, or rather, your mother and father. Remember? You spoke earlier with them." Danny nodded tersely. "And this here is Jasmine Fenton, your sister. Again, you met earlier." He nodded again. "And here are your best friends...What's your name?"
"Tucker Foley."
"And I'm Sam Manson."
"Oh, yes. This is Tucker Foley and Sam Manson. Do you remember them?"
Danny eyed them warily, but, unfortunately, shook his head no. Dr. Gorrison sighed but didn't argue.
"I see. Now that you're awake, are you hungry? You can trust us." Dr. Gorrison was speaking quietly to Danny, trying to get him to calm down. Danny flinched away and shook his head, but his eyes gave him away. He did look hungry.
"Okay, but if you want anything, anything at all, just ask," Dr. Gorrison assured. He didn't want to pressure him; that would just make him panic more.
"Well, Danny, I'll leave you to speak with your family and friends." Dr. Gorrison stood up to his full height and nodded his farewell. He took long strides out into the hall, going to attend some other, random patient.
Sam rushed to Danny's side as soon as the doctor left. Jazz gave her a warning look, silently telling her to ease up if she didn't want to frighten him. Sam nodded reluctantly and took a step back. Even Jazz's chair was farther away from the bed. Jack, Maddie, and Tucker hurried to the end of the bed as well.
"How're you feeling?" Jazz asked, worry etched into her eyes. She did well to hide it, though.
Danny looked at her cautiously, refusing to speak. He nodded his head.
"Danny, do you seriously not remember us?" Tucker asked despairingly, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
He shook his head, to Sam's disappointment.
"You can speak, it's alright," Maddie coaxed, afraid he would go on shaking and nodding his head for the rest of his life.
Sam decided to ask some worded questions, so he'd have to talk. She longed to hear his voice, even if it had only been one night and half a day without it.
"Do you remember how old you are?"
He hesitated and retreated farther back into the bed, still distrustful. But he found his voice and said, "I-I don't know...eight?"
"Uh, no. You're 14," Tucker snorted, finding humor in the bleak situation.
"Are you sure? Hm," he said, seeming to take this new information very seriously. He settled down a little, but didn't lose his wariness.
Sam rummaged for more questions to keep him talking. "How about what year it is?"
He shook his head. She didn't know what else to ask.
"Do you know-"
But Dr. Gorrison came back in with a tray of food. He didn't say anything, but sat the tray down on the bedside table and left. Sam looked back to Danny, waiting to see if he said anything. But he showed no sign of acknowledgement. Or he just still didn't trust him. Or anyone.
"Oh! Wait!" Jack suddenly shouted, chasing after Dr. Gorrison out into the hall. Danny jumped and flinched back.
"Dad!" Jazz scolded. She turned back to Danny and started to reach for his hand, but he cringed back, and she pulled her hand back as she remembered. Sighing, she slumped back down into her chair.
Tucker sprung up from shock and accidentally knocked over the tray of food, which clattered loudly to the ground. The sound reverberated throughout the tiny room.
Sam tripped over the fallen tray and ran into the machines on the side of the room, getting tangled in the wires and unplugging over half of them.
"I think we should all just settle down!" Maddie Fenton announced, but as she said this, Tucker stumbled into her and they both tripped over the bed. Tucker collapsed onto Jazz's lap and the chair flipped backwards. Maddie fell onto the other chairs, sending them tipping.
Dr. Gorrison and Jack came back in at the last moment when Maddie sent the last chair to the ground with a dull thud.
It was an eyeful, that was for sure. Danny sat stiffly and stared straight ahead, a little over the frightened level. If the heart monitor machine had still been plugged in, thanks to Sam, it would have sounded like one continuous, monotonous beep.
"Uh, oops?" Tucker said, putting his hand up in a lame wave. He was still laying flat on his back.
"Well, I was just asking Doc here when Danny could come home, but I'm not sure if we're going to have to wait longer in case one of you would like to stay? No broken bones, right?"
"Nope!"
"I'm great!"
"I'm not sure..."
"Fine."
"Eh," Danny replied, still frozen.
"Hey! What happened to the machines?" Dr. Gorrison asked sharply, glaring daggers at Sam. He roughly untangled her and pushed her all too unkindly away from the cords, which cause her to get caught in another wire and trip onto the other side of the bed.
"Ow! Ugh, sorry," she apologized to Danny. Dr. Gorrison frantically shoved all the plugs back into their original places and muttered to himself angrily.
Straightening up, he said, "Now, as we were saying, he can go home anytime today. If he doesn't remember anything by tomorrow morning, it's...I'm sorry and regretful to say, hopeless. Now, if you wouldn't mind, please leave before you break anything else!"
"Of course, of course! Kids, hurry it up! Danny, you just wait."
"I can do that."
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz went out into the hallway to wait. The doctor shut the door so he could speak privately with Danny and his parents.
"Darn it, Tuck! What the heck!" Sam bursted, throwing her hands up.
"What? What about Jazz?"
"What? I didn't do anything! You're the one who tripped into the cords!"
"Me? Tuck hit the tray!"
"Mr. Fenton scared me!"
"You fell into my lap!"
"I never said I didn't!"
The door flew open.
"Excuse me! What's going on?" the doctor demanded, his beady little eyes narrowed.
"Nothing!" they all hollered at him in unison. But then they realized who they were talking to and stopped mid-scream.
"Very well. Goodbye," he replied sharply, putting no effort in keeping the venom out of his voice.
Jack, Maddie, and Danny came out of the room eventually. Danny's arms were folded across his chest as he shuffled out of the room, avoiding everybody's eyes. Sam came to stand beside him, as well as Jazz and Tucker. Sam risked putting her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to help him relax. He didn't shy away, but she saw a fleeting, thankful smile as he looked at her, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. He seemed to be easing into his new life, whether he wanted to or not. So that meant he must be accepting that these two people he'd never even, technically, met were his best and only friends.
"Well, Danny my boy, we better get home," Jack said, trying to resume life as normal. It would be difficult and everyone knew it.
At first Danny didn't respond, but he realized Jack was talking to him when he noticed everyone was watching.
"Oh! Um, right." He gave them a halfhearted thumbs up.
As they headed out, Sam swore she heard the doctor say "Good riddance", but couldn't be sure, because Jack tripped on the wheel of a wheelchair and tumbled into Tucker, Tucker into Sam, Sam into Maddie, Maddie into Jazz, and Jazz into Danny. One big chain reaction. And one thing led to another, they were all at the bottom of the second floor stairs.
"What just happened?" Danny asked, leaning against the far wall. His sparrow black hair was even more mussed than usual.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think we'll be allowed back in the hospital anytime soon," Tucker replied dazedly, getting up, but only to fall back down from dizziness. "And I'm okay with that."
"I suggest we leave before we end up putting more patients in danger," Jazz clarified, standing up and walking down the rest of the stairs.
"Wait for me!" Tucker yelled as he hurried to get away before he could trip anyone else. But as he neared the top of the first few steps, Sam heard a repetitive thumping. He must have tripped again. Soon after, the thudding stopped and they heard him groan in pain.
"I'm okay," he called up.
"I'm surrounded by morons!" Jazz shouted from below. She must have gotten caught in Tucker's carelessness.
"Oh dear..." Maddie sighed, she got up and helped Jack. He'd been the most unfortunate and was now in a very inhumanly position.
"Hehe," Sam laughed nervously. "Ta-da? This is your family..."
"Am I always going to be in mortal danger?" Danny asked flatly.
"Well...yeah. But don't worry, we'll help you."
"That's not very reassuring."
"I know."
"Are you coming? We better keep moving if we want to get back before 7:00," Maddie interrupted. Jack stood slumped over beside her, looking very disoriented. They nodded and hurried down the next flight of stairs.
Now out of the hospital, everyone was squished into the RV. Danny looked around the inside with evident curiosity, but couldn't get up to actually look at anything because he was smashed between Tucker and Sam, who were both just as cramped. There was no way to get up without elbowing someone else in the face or ribs.
"What's this?" Danny asked, pointing at another button on the walls of the vehicle. It was the ninth question he'd asked since they'd set foot in the Assault Vehicle.
"That's the eject button," Sam answered. Jazz had fallen back asleep and Tucker was busy on his PDA.
"And this?"
"Ecto guns."
"This?"
"Ghost shield."
"What about this?"
"That...I actually don't know," she admitted with aversion. It was a big, red button, smack in the middle of the panel. But before Sam could shout out a warning, Danny reached forward and pushed it.
Nothing happened for a few minutes. They waited with bated breath, no one moved a muscle.
Then, they all screamed. The window wipers squeaked back and forth over the dripping window shield.
Jazz's hand went to her heart as she steadied her breathing. "Ugh! Stop scaring me! I just want to get one simple hour of sleep in, if you don't mind being normal for that long!"
"Jazz is back," Sam muttered. She was genuinely relieved by her change in attitude. Being around Jazz earlier was unnerving, but now it didn't even seem like Danny had...lost...his memory. He caught on quickly to names, which was good, she guessed. But she still found it hard to believe he didn't think of her as anything more than a distant stranger.
"That was lucky, but next time, don't press the red button, they usually blow things up," Tucker informed Danny abstractedly, still absorbed with his PDA. Sam was tempted to snatch it and throw it against the wall.
"Got it. No red buttons." Danny stuffed his arms into his jacket, still rattled from the fall down the stairs.
They rode home in silence, but there was occasional snips of conversation. But mostly uneasy friction. Being stuck so close together didn't help to break the gaucheness.
"When will we be there?" Tucker complained shrilly when Jazz kicked him for the umpteenth time as she tried to rearrange herself into a more pleasing sleeping position.
"Any minute now," Jack said densely, gripping the steering wheel with a vehement hold, his patience kindling down to barely a flame. Tucker shrank back when he heard the edge to his voice, afraid to snuff out the remaining bit of patience Mr. Fenton had left.
"We're moving as fast as we can," Maddie added.
"Actually, no, we're not. My driving is usually five times as fast and six times as reckless, but I didn't want to...you know," Jack said lowly to Maddie, subtly nodding his head toward the back seat.
Something in Mrs. Fenton's words had aroused an unpleasant memory in Sam. She reran her sentence and picked the offending adjective out at once. Moving. She now found no reason to tell Danny. He probably wouldn't notice if she left. And right then and there she finalized to go on the camping trip whether her parents liked it or not.