.

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.

the friend


He swore, long ago, that he would always stand by Danny's side.


Through the all-consuming haze of pain and terror, Tucker is sure he is going to die.

He doesn't have time to contemplate life after death (though he supposes he knows more than most); he doesn't have time to think of his family and friends; he doesn't even have time to be angry at Dash for getting him into this situation in the first place.

His whole body is screaming in pain. (He's probably screaming as well, but the roaring flames surely block the sound. Any rescuers stupid enough to come looking for him will never hear.) He doubts that the cloth he is using as a desperate shield from the heat will last much longer, and he can't get out. He is going to die this horrible death, stuck in a tiny locker with absolutely no hope of survival—

Suddenly, he feels a curious tingling sensation. It is almost...cold. This must be death, he realizes. It is an earlier release than he expected—early, but not unwelcome. Ghosts are cold, he remembers suddenly; Danny is cold; maybe this is what it is like to die—

But then he realizes that he is moving, passing clear through the locker door to stare around at the crumbling hallway of what once was Casper High. He's too delirious to process this, at first. This is what Heaven looks like? He was half-expecting seventy-two virgins, a choir of angels...or, at the least, the emptiness of the Ghost Zone...

The pain comes back full-force, though, and he is rudely informed that he is still alive. Before he can ponder this fact, a sharp slap across his cheek brings his world back into focus. "Tuck? Tucker! Dammit, don't you die on me—"

"D-Da—" He cannot properly form words by this point, but the ash-white, terrified face of his best friend is slowly swimming into view. What is Danny doing here? He's at home, too sick to even fight the Box Ghost... Either Tucker is delirious, or Danny has gone mad.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, there's an ambulance outside, don't worry," Danny says quickly, and though his voice is hoarse with illness and exhaustion, Tucker can hear the bravado, the optimism trying desperately to shine through. They are floating, now, toward an open section of what was once the roof...and though it is much slower than Danny normally flies, though Tucker can feel his friend's usually-herculean grip shaking from exertion, he feels safe. Danny is here; Danny can save him; Danny will never fail.

(He's a superhero, and that's what superheroes do. They save people; they go out of their way to help. And even if Danny is only a fourteen-year-old-boy, he's special.)

Tucker knows immediately when they break free of the smoke—the air is clear and beautiful, and he doesn't think he's ever tasted anything so wonderful in his life. But his entire world is still agony—agony and Danny—and he knows their problems aren't over yet.

(Please let everyone else be okay... He doesn't think Danny can handle another trip into the burning wreckage, knows his friend is stretching his limits as it is. They tumble the last few feet to the ground.)

(But he also knows that if anyone else is trapped inside, if anyone else needs help, Danny won't hesitate to go back. That's the way he's always been.)

(Tucker knows it's part of his friend's personality, knows that Danny is heroic and kind and a better person than anyone else in town could ever be...but it's always terrified him.)

He's always worried that, one day, his friend's luck will run out, and then he and Sam will be left to pick up the pieces.

Paramedics are swarming all around them, and Tucker feels an oxygen mask being held to his face. He breathes in greedily—even if the outside air is cleaner than inside the school, it is still clogged with ash—as they lift him onto a gurney.

Sam is by his side within seconds, holding carefully to his scorched hand, doing her best to smile encouragingly down at him. He feels Danny at his other side, his cold, gloved hand resting reassuringly on Tucker's arm...

For a few precious seconds, he thinks everything is going to be all right.

But then Danny's hand is wrenched away, and a terrified, male voice shatters the illusion—"Phantom—please—Dash went back inside to get Tucker—he's still—"

Tucker tilts his head to look at Kwan and the crumbling school behind him. It's in much worse shape than he thought; the green flames—Aragon? Dora?—are reaching ever-higher; the walls are crumbling; heat waves roll through the air like water.

There is surely only a small chance that Dash is still alive.

But Tucker knows immediately what Danny will do. Even if Dash is a jerk, a bully, the one who can't stand Danny Fenton...he is still human. He's still a citizen of Amity Park, and Danny has sworn to protect everyone he possibly can.

"I'll be right back out, all right?" Danny says, turning back to Tucker and Sam with a bit of a grin. He looks exhausted, spent, but his eyes are shining with reassurance. "Wait for me."

He stands there for a moment longer, as if deciding whether to say anything else. But he only grins down at Tucker one last time and pats his arm gently, then pulls Sam into a one-armed hug before running toward Casper High again.

Tucker distantly hears Kwan wondering at this—he's running? Wouldn't it be faster to fly?—but his attention is diverted when the paramedics begin to wheel him away.

"W-wait!" he is able to rasp out, pushing the oxygen mask away. "I gotta—Danny said—"

"Kid, you're covered in at least second-degree burns. You need to be at the hospital," one of them says, looking down at him with worry in his eyes. "We'll let you know—"

"But—Danny!" Tucker turns his head toward the school, wondering if he can get another glimpse of his friend, but he has already disappeared into the building. "Please—he said—"

"Danny Phantom is our friend," Sam says forcefully, articulating what Tucker's tortured throat cannot. "We're not going anywhere until he comes back out."

As Tucker meets her eyes, he knows they are thinking the same thing—we have to know he's okay. Danny was sick that morning—horribly sick—Mrs. Fenton did not even allow them upstairs to see him. And if he is even too exhausted to fly...

The paramedics seem to hesitate for a moment before finally relenting, pushing the oxygen mask back in place and bustling around doing God-knows-what. Tucker only lies there in silence, grasping Sam's badly-shaking hand, and waits.

A hush, it seems, has fallen over the crowd. Many of them saw the shape Danny is in, how he ran rather than flew, how his exuberance and cockiness and everything that makes him Phantom were dimmed.

But ghosts can't die. Ghosts can't get hurt. Even if something happens in there, something that would kill any of us, he'll be okay, right?

They have such platitudes—false as they are—to offer them comfort. Tucker and Sam are not so blind.

Minutes pass in near-silence. Something is twisting in Tucker's gut, something large and insidious and lethal... He can barely feel the pain that once wracked his body; the terror thick in the air is so much worse.

The firefighters continue to douse the ghostly flames, to little effect; at the very least, the fire doesn't seem to be spreading. It is only a small blessing, but it is something Tucker clings to. He's all right. He's going to be fine and come out and hit us over the head for worrying so much...

Even the Fentons have fallen silent, still, in anticipation of what is to come. Jazz stands close to her parents, her face a sickening shade of white, her eyes never leaving the small hole in the wall Danny disappeared through. They are all suspended timelessly, waiting, praying, begging that both boys will get out alive...

.

It seems an eternity before anything happens. There is movement within the school, just inside that small opening. Tucker strains to see without his shattered glasses, hopes and prays—

A figure comes stumbling out, and for a moment, Tucker wants to shout for joy. Danny is all right! Even if he passes out from exhaustion then and there, reveals himself to the town, it is surely better than—

But there is something wrong. As his eyes strain to see, to focus, to understand, he realizes that this figure cannot be Danny. It is too wide, too tall, too—

It's Dash stumbling toward them all, unbalanced and burned and horrified.

But if he's alive...surely Danny is as well?

Tucker directs his attention to the opening in the wall once again, heart swelling in anticipation. He doesn't notice as Kwan quickly leads his friend toward the ambulance, doesn't notice as Dash is loaded onto a stretcher mere feet from him...

Sam's grip has become painful, but he barely feels it as the seconds stretch ever longer. Where is Danny? Dash is alive, Dash is here—that is incredible in and of itself. Surely, that wouldn't be possible without Danny's help...?

"I'm...I'm..." A small, hoarse voice comes from next to him, and it takes several seconds for Tucker to realize that it is Dash. It sounds so meek, so terrified, that he doubts himself for a moment; after all, why would the great Dash Baxter show weakness before so many people?

He doesn't avert his gaze from the school, though, because whatever Dash has to say can wait until after Danny's safe arrival. Even if he wants to apologize, such words mean nothing right now; Tucker does not care; all he wants is for his best friend to come running back outside...

But as the seconds stretch longer, his anticipation slowly gives way to terror. Is there someone else trapped inside that Danny has gone to save? Why is he not reappearing, grinning around at them all, taking off for home so his parents don't realize he has left?

He distantly hears Dash talking again, but he does not turn, cannot turn. Maybe, if he stares long enough, he can will Danny to reappear...

"Tucker..."

He hears his own name, foreign on the boy's lips, and replies without turning, "Yeah?" He wants to ask Dash, to demand to know what is taking Danny so long. But his throat is burning; his mouth is dry; he's not so sure he'll be able to say anything else. He stays silent.

"Please...I'm sorry..."

There is something wrong with Dash's tone, he realizes suddenly. His voice catches; the pitch is too high; it sounds guilty and confused and scared. "Please...I never meant..."

Tucker's first thought is to blow him off, to tell him he doesn't care as long as Danny is safe. But the boy's voice—usually so arrogant—has been reduced to a shell of its former self, and Tucker knows that something is terribly wrong. So he rips his gaze at last from the half-collapsed school and turns his head. It takes a moment for his muddled mind to realize, but...

Dash is crying.

Something churns in his gut, stabs in his chest, and he knows that Danny is not all right. Dash has barely said anything, has scarcely hinted at what he means by that pain-stricken gaze, but somehow, Tucker knows.

Danny is never coming out of Casper High...and it's Tucker's fault.

He knows it, knows everything, even before Dash takes a shaky breath and summons the will to continue—"He—he pushed me out of the way—the ceiling gave out—I couldn't—"

Tucker feels Sam's grip tighten, feels his throat clench dangerously. They both know what Dash is trying to say...but it doesn't make it any easier to realize the true impact of these words.

Danny.

Dead.

Crushed to death...

Tucker begs whatever deities exist that he is jumping to the wrong conclusion. Maybe he sprained an ankle, broke a leg, but he has to be alive...

But it's been nearly five minutes since Dash broke free of the building, nearly twenty since Danny went in to save him... There is just no way...

"What are you saying?" Kwan cuts in, his voice anxious and hurried. "He's a ghost—couldn't he just phase you both through...?"

Most of the crowd has congregated around them, now; the three Fentons (there should be four) push their way to the front. Jazz looks on the verge of hyperventilation, stumbling to Tucker's side and gripping the gurney with white knuckles.

Mrs. Fenton, distantly, is addressing Dash—"Where's Phantom? Why hasn't he come out yet?"

The pain and terror on Dash's face as he struggles to look her in the eye—Tucker realizes—he knows. Danny must have transformed back when he...he...

"He—he's gone. For good..." Dash barely whispers, apparently giving up on meeting her gaze. "He—you—he said to tell you that he's so sorry...asked that you don't be mad..."

Mrs. Fenton gives a sort of disbelieving snort, but Tucker is too busy realizing the implications of what Dash has just said. Danny lived long enough to give Dash his last words—lived long enough, buried under so much rubble, in horrible pain... If neither he nor Dash had been able to free him...

Suddenly, the nausea catches up with him. He barely has enough time to lean over as he is sick all over the grass.

Dash is talking, but Tucker cannot hear. The world is spinning; his vision is tunneling to pinpricks...he cannot understand.

Danny is gone...

Forever.

The world will never be the same again.

.

.

The next place he knows is a sterile, white hospital room. He feels numb, physically and mentally; he realizes there are people around his bed, realizes that someone is calling his name, but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters anymore.

He slowly slips back into blissful oblivion.

.

.

But even in dreams, his is not free from the pain. Danny is there, both Dannys, wearing identical, accusing looks. Why couldn't you save me? Why do you deserve to live? I'm the superhero—you're just the techno-geek that nobody really likes...

He knows, intellectually, that this isn't—can't be—real. Danny would never say things like that; the two of them are—were—best friends.

(Right?)

But it's hell, locked in his own mind, accused and taunted and hated by the vision of his best friend—the boy he's always had in his life.

He's realizing, horror twisting his insides—how is he going to figure out how to live without him?

.

.

It is almost a blessing when he wakes, slowly and painfully. There are people in the room, people talking and moving and living, but they do not matter.

If Danny can't live, why should they?

His mother is at his side, her eyes red and puffy, staring at all the machines he has been hooked up to. At any other time, in any other situation, Tucker might have cringed at the thought of being in a hospital, of being surrounded by doctors and antiseptic and machines, even, that are keeping him alive...

But Danny—Danny has no use for such things, is not so lucky as to still be alive and hooked up to them. He should not be so ungrateful for the things he only wishes his friend could have.

He makes an attempt at speaking, if only to get his mother's attention. He does not know how long he has been here, how much time has passed since... The least he can do is comfort his mother—the woman who has always been there for him, the one who gave him life...

(And look, now, how easy it is to take it all away.)

She looks down at the noise, and her eyes well up anew as she sees him awake. "Sweetie...thank God..." She embraces him in a gentle hug, her body shaking with suppressed sobs. Tucker returns the embrace, feeling empty despite his mother's warm arms. The doctors rush over, usher his mother away, ask him question after question. He barely has the will to answer them.

Eventually, they leave him alone with his mother, and she returns to his side, pulling him again into her arms. "It'll be all right, honey, you'll see...the doctors say you and Dash will both be okay...the danger is past..."

He does not reply, cannot reply, because she does not know. His best friend is dead; Danny is gone; it will not be all right.

Nothing will ever be all right again.

.

.

That afternoon, Sam walks into the room, her eyes exhausted and lifeless. She sits next to him silently, takes his bandaged hand... For a moment, it almost feels normal.

But there should be three of them...Danny should be there as well, laughing and joking and doing his best to make Tucker feel better.

(He supposes, though, that if Danny were here...there would be no need to cheer each other up.)

"You don't think—he would..." Sam starts, her voice barely more than a whisper. She cannot continue; a few tears roll down her cheeks, and she is silent.

But Tucker knows what she means. Will he come back, she wants to know. Will we ever see him again? He shakes his head, though, because he knows their friend will never return. Danny saw what true ghosts are, what they are reduced to in death—and, even if it will never happen, that dark image of a Phantom with flaming blue hair...

He knows Danny would never take that chance.

So he can only hug Sam—strong, unbreakable Samantha Manson—as she dissolves, sobbing, screaming, breaking. They have each other, and that is more than Danny has—wherever he is—but it isn't enough.

(How are they going to live the rest of their lives like this?)

.

.

Vlad Masters walks into the room a few days later. Dark circles are under his eyes, though, and his presence lacks the domineering, arrogant attitude that has long been his trademark.

Tucker cannot even bring himself to glare at the man.

His mind has spun with possibilities since he woke up in the hospital—mad visions and desperate guesses that have driven him to the brink of insanity. Why didn't Vlad—the immensely powerful half-ghost—rush into Casper High when it was clear Danny was too weak? Plasmius and Danny were rivals—enemies, even—but they always knew that Vlad viewed Danny as a sort of surrogate son.

Before, it was creepy. Now, Tucker would give anything to make Vlad go back and get Danny out of there alive.

But he heard the news days ago—the nurses had it on the television. Mayor Masters arrived after the disaster, arrived as Dash was leaving the wreckage... Even if he had transformed then and there, Tucker knows, it would have been too late.

(Dash had watched Danny die, after all. His best friend died buried under the rubble of a burning building, facing down the finality of death with only Dash Baxter at his side.)

"I...I did some research in the Ghost Zone," Vlad says, breaking through the haze of Tucker's crumbling mind. "It wasn't Aragon or Dora...some new dragon...nobody had heard of it."

It. It was just a monster, not even a rational, thinking being like Skulker or Technus. Danny was killed by an animal, something young and new and unexpected.

"They're all searching the Zone," Vlad continues, his voice catching momentarily before he rights himself. "I'll be keeping an eye over town...they've all agreed not to attack..."

Vlad is helping. He is starting a massive search for the beast that took Danny's life, is taking over Danny's job of protecting the town...this tragedy, it seems, has changed everyone.

(Is it worth it? Of course not.)

"Tell me when you find it," he says suddenly. His voice is still hoarse, his throat is still scratchy, but the venom seeps through his words all the same. "Tell me where it is, and I'll kill it."

Vlad looks taken aback by this announcement, potent and dangerous, but eventually nods. His eyes flash, though, as he replies—"If you are not well, I will not let you fight. I don't care what you think you'll be able to do—I will not have the deaths of two children on my hands."

The haunted look in his eyes as he takes his leave finally hits home for Tucker. Vlad knows he didn't get there fast enough, knows that if he had done something different, Danny would still be alive.

The guilt is weighing down on him just like everyone else. If only they had known...

.

.

Dash is released from the hospital before Tucker—his burns, evidently, are not as severe. He finds his way to Tucker's room once he's discharged, looking in relatively god health...though his palms are heavily bandaged, and he opens the door gingerly with his elbow. He clutches the door frame as he looks anywhere but Tucker's eyes—"Danny...Danny wanted me to tell you something, if you'll listen to me..."

The shame is heavy in his voice, in the way his hands shake violently, but Tucker nods immediately. He is far past blaming Dash for this—if he, Tucker, had stood up to him, yelled for help in those precious minutes before all Hell broke loose, they wouldn't be in this situation at all.

(He can't be mad at Dash. Danny forgave him, trusted him enough with these final words. It feels only right that Tucker does the same.)

"He said—you're the best friend he's ever had," Dash's voice catches, and he must swallow thickly before he continues—"And he said not to blame yourself. If anything, this is my fault..."

"I don't blame you," Tucker says, quietly, turning away to hide the sudden moisture in his eyes. "It—it was an accident..."

Dash makes a noise, as if he wants to say something in reply...but he ultimately does not. He only whispers "I'm sorry" before leaving the room.

The silence is deafening, and Tucker can only close his eyes and cry.

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That night, when he is finally able to fall asleep, Danny appears in his dreams again. He says nothing; this time, he only stares at Tucker with hurt and anger in his eyes.

Somehow, it is worse than before.

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.

Later that week, the Fentons visit.

Jazz looks like she hasn't slept since the fire; her face is a sickly white, and dark bags hang under her red-ringed eyes. Tucker wonders whether the Fentons really are that oblivious, or if Jazz has been lying to them. Surely, they would notice...?

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" Mrs. Fenton sounds worried as she sits in a chair next to his bed. "I'm sorry we weren't able to come earlier...we had a lot to figure out, trying to find that dragon before it hurts anyone else..."

Before it kills someone, just like it killed your son.

Tucker wants to rage at them, to scream the truth to the heavens, if only to get those all-too-cheerful expressions off their faces. Mr. Fenton is happily talking about their designs for a containment unit big enough to hold the dragon, while his wife smiles and nods along.

Tucker wonders how Jazz can stand it.

"This thing killed Danny," he grinds out when Mr. Fenton pauses for breath. "We should kill it, not study it."

Mrs. Fenton's mouth drops open slightly before a smile slowly replaces it. (Stop it! Just stop it!) "Ghosts can't die—you know that. That poor boy—Dash—was hysterical. Phantom probably just went back to the Ghost Zone to rest up. He did look ill..."

Something like worry almost flashes across her features before Mr. Fenton says—"It's confusing, calling Phantom by the same name as our boy! For a minute, I thought you meant—"

That is what I meant! It's so obvious—why can't you figure it out? But one look from Jazz silences him. They do not know; they should not know, not now...

"It's really good of Vladdie to take Danny in while we're dealing with this mess," Jack says, suddenly magnanimous. "His own private hospital and everything! Danny-boy'll be better in no time! No puny little flu virus will take down a Fenton..."

(No, but a huge, fire-breathing dragon will.)

Tucker assures Mrs. Fenton that he is fine for a third time, forcing a strained smile on his face as she pats his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, this will all blow over in a few weeks. Everything will be fine."

"I know, Mrs. Fenton. Thank you." Fake smile. She has no idea how wrong she is.

He's spent twenty minutes with them and is ready to crack. For Jazz to survive for nearly a week... She is the last to hug him, and he feels a few tears stain his hospital gown before she pulls away, wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry...I just can't..."

Tucker does his best to smile, squeezing her arm...knows he needs to alleviate some of her pain. Whatever he is feeling, it must be so much worse for Jazz. After all, Danny was her little brother, someone she promised to protect...

(We all promised to protect him. Look how that turned out...)

They leave soon enough, Jazz claiming exhaustion and her parents saying they need to get back to the lab. Tucker nods his agreement, giving them all a small wave as they disappear through the door. But he drops the facade as soon as they are gone... How long will the five of them have to keep this secret? How long will Danny be unrecognized? How long will they have to lie about this to the people they love?

It's so much different than before. Keeping Phantom a secret—it had almost been a game to them, dancing around the rest of the town, knowing they held information none of them ever would...

But it isn't a game anymore...because one wrong move will destroy them even more than they already are.

.

.

When Vlad Plasmius appears in his hospital room, a Fenton Thermos held securely in his hand, Tucker perks up like he has not in a week. The man is burned, injured, but alive, looking down at Tucker grimly as his grip spasms on the Thermos.

It takes him a moment to realize—"That's—the dragon? You got it?" He can barely believe it; he had expected an epic chase, several months' worth of searching, finally taking it down with guns blazing, using every resource they had...

(Or maybe that's just the kind of fight he thinks Danny deserves. If this thing is monstrous enough to...to...)

Vlad nods, his brows pulling deeper, his lips thining. "Technus found him in some obscure corner of the Ghost Zone..."

"Did it say anything?" He hopes viciously that the dragon doesn't repent, that it feels no remorse. Tucker will not have a problem tearing it apart limb from limb.

But Vlad shakes his head. "It wasn't capable of speech. A lower-level ghost, but powerful...the fire..."

Tucker's gaze flickers to Vlad's frayed, burnt cape and his smoking hair. The bastard had put up a fight—a hell of a good fight—but Vlad had won in the end. But that didn't matter—"When I get out of here, I'll get Sam and Jazz, and we'll help you kill it."

There is finality in his tone, no room for questions, just as he wants it. But Vlad's grip only grows tighter, looking at Tucker levelly for a moment. "This ghost is too powerful for you and your friends to deal with. I am burying the thermos, and that will be the end of it."

"What?" What kind of retribution is that? It is timeless in the thermos, or so Danny says—the damn thing won't be suffering nearly enough for what it did—

"I told you—I will not have your blood on my hands." And with one last look, Vlad is gone.

.

.

A week after Danny died, Tucker is released from the hospital.

His parents are smiling as he is wheeled to the car, telling him all that he has missed, how construction for a memorial has started in front of Casper High... But he barely hears them, looking around the street. Instinctively, he looks to the sky, searching for Danny. He should be patrolling his city, protecting its inhabitants...

(But that won't happen—not anymore.)

He spends the car ride home in silence, looking out the window, wishing and praying and hoping that this past week has been a horrible dream. But it is far too vivid, too painful; he knows there is no waking up from this.

His parents look worried, but they do not push him; apparently, someone told them that Phantom was his friend. They "understand he may need his space right now."

He knows it's supposed to get better with time, knows the pain is supposed to dull eventually, but he doubts it will happen. Danny was—is—his best friend...and now he is gone. Danny is dead, and Tucker is alive, and now he must deal with the consequences, no matter how impossible it seems.

.

.

That night, he dreams only of glowing, green eyes.

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