Danny was aware of three things when he woke up.
First, he was not in his bed. This one was softer and roomier, with silk pillows and a plush mattress he could easily get used to.
Second, despite being on his back—his least favorite position to sleep in—he couldn't remember the last time he had woken up feeling so rested.
And third, his best friend Samantha Manson was practically glued onto him.
Her arm was still draped around his chest and her legs had intertwined with his at some point during the night. Her body wasn't the only one that seemed to have a mind of its own; Danny's hand had somehow found itself around her waist, in contact with the warm skin that had revealed itself when Sam's shirt rode up a few inches in her sleep. It was impossible not to notice that her body, from head to toe, was velvety soft to the touch.
Taking a brief glance down south, Danny breathed out a sigh of relief when he confirmed that the more sensitive region below his waist was behaving itself. He had been friends with Sam for almost too many years to count, and this was dangerously new territory for them. He considered detangling himself and taking the risk of waking her, but one look at her face completely stilled the thought.
She looked so… Peaceful. Her face was still nuzzled into his chest, and she had an adorable case of bedhead. Her expression was free of any stress from ghost fighting, the usual facade of fiery strength that she sported now dissipated into a blank canvas. It was a side of Sam that Danny didn't get to see often or just hadn't fully noticed; he wasn't sure which.
The only telling feature of any sign of distress were the faint shadows underneath her eyes. They were almost imperceptible, only fully noticeable at this proximity and when Sam's usual guards of makeup or snappy remarks were fully down. Danny frowned and lightly ran his thumb across one of the dark crescents.
What is going on, Sam.
He took a quick glance at the vintage, gothic-themed alarm clock on her nightstand. Six fifty-four, and it was Saturday.
He suddenly couldn't think of a good enough reason to wake her.
Sighing, Danny succumbed to the situation and let himself relax into the bed. He absentmindedly ran his thumb over the exposed skin on Sam's waist and inwardly smiled from the memory that popped into his head when he looked up at her ceiling of hand painted, celestial purple swirls.
Golden hour was setting upon Amity Park as a young halfa walked towards the dark grey, sprawling mansion that his best friend called home.
It was spring break of junior year, and Danny had just spent the entire day at Floody Waters with Tucker. The intention was innocent—just a day of water rides, chlorine-soaked fun, and endless junk food—but the muscles they had developed from track and field garnered them way more attention than expected. Tucker almost let out a strangled cry when Paulina and Star asked him and Danny to ride Terror Mountain with them.
The day had felt like a weird dream… Hanging out with the popular kids, getting attention from girls, and feeling like a normal high school student for once. Yet, despite multiple texts insisting she join them, Sam had been a no-show.
It wasn't just today; spring break was almost over, and Sam had rejected all of Danny and Tucker's invites to hang out. She insisted that she was working on a special project and wanted to be alone… But Danny was officially reaching his breaking point.
Sometime between leaving the water park and getting back to his house, he had made up his mind to visit her. He took a quick shower, shoved on a pair of dark blue jeans and the first clean shirt he could find (a dark indigo graphic tee), and headed towards the front door. The day in the sun had left him feeling especially content and relaxed, so he decided to opt out of going ghost and walk to Sam's place instead.
He was in such a good mood that he even chose to enter Sam's house the "human" way—knocking on her front door and being on his best behavior with her high-strung parents. To his delight, he was greeted by her grandmother instead. She gave him a knowing smile and silently pointed up the stairs, where the dulcet tones of a familiar melody were coming from.
Danny thanked her politely and began his trek up. With each step, he could hear the melody more clearly. He smiled as he realized what Sam was playing—"Give Me Novacaine," by Green Day.
'Take away the sensation inside,
Bittersweet migraine in my head'
The song was one of her favorites. She always said that it tugged on her heart in a way that other melodies just couldn't.
As Danny reached the top of the winding staircase, he found the door to Sam's room slightly ajar. Feeling mischievous, he kept his footsteps silent as he decided to peek in and see what had kept her so busy all week.
His jaw dropped from the sight before him.
Sam was standing on the top of a very tall ladder in the middle of her room. She was surrounded by white tarp, covering all of the floors and most of her furniture, and had a paint brush in one hand and a palette tray in the other. She was wearing a black sports bra with an off-the-shoulder black shirt over it and a tattered pair of oversized, grey boyfriend jeans that were rolled up at the bottom. Splattered shades of purple and silver paint were everywhere—on the tarp, Sam's clothes, her right shoulder that had become exposed when her shirt slipped down her arm, and somehow even within strands of hair in her messy bun.
She hummed happily to the Green Day song as she lifted her arm towards the ceiling and swirled the paintbrush over it. Danny's eyes widened as he realized that the starry, celestial ceiling he was looking at—freshly painted to resemble a mystical night sky with purple hues—had been created by her.
'Out of body and out of mind,
Kiss the demons out of my dreams'
It was mesmerizing, raw, and very real. Sam was no artist in any professional nature, but she had created a dark purple sky with swirling shades of lighter purples and silver stars all on her own.
'Give me a long kiss goodnight,
And everything'll be alright,
Tell me that I won't feel a thing'
Danny didn't realize he had literally been drawn in by the art; without meaning to, he had taken a few steps into her room. His foot crunched on the white tarp, loudly enough to pull Sam away from the song. Her eyes shot towards the source of the noise.
"Danny?" Lavender eyes locked in with blue, and Sam's shock from seeing her best friend caused her to wobble on the tiny ladder step she was standing on. She gasped as she realized that she had lost her balance and was about to fall down several feet.
"Sam!" Panic flooded through Danny's system and his eyes flashed green as he sped towards her, tapping into his ghost powers while in human form to ensure that he reached her in time. A millisecond later Sam was in his arms, narrowly saved from a painful crash to the ground.
"Sam," he repeated gently as he brought her to a standing position. He could tell that she was both frazzled and annoyed as she straightened herself up and pushed some stray locks of hair out of her face, looking directly into his eyes.
"God, Danny, were you trying to kill me? Have you ever heard of knocking on a door?" He was almost a foot taller than her now, yet Sam could still manage to look threatening with a simple glare. Realizing she was screaming over the loud music, she let out a frustrated huff and walked over to the remote to pause the song before returning to face Danny with her arms crossed over her chest.
"Hey, it's not my fault that you were playing the music so loudly that you couldn't hear me!" Danny shot back. The awe he had been feeling from her artwork was suddenly on the backburner. It didn't happen often, but he was actually irritated with Sam. She was looking up at him, equally miffed.
Sam opened her mouth to sharply retort back, but then froze. A droplet of water had suddenly landed on her cheek.
Wildly confused, she slowly lifted her hand to touch the wet spot. Her hand stayed unmoving as her amethyst gaze ventured up Danny's face, until she broke into a brilliant smile. Danny was beyond baffled.
"Danny," she was completely amused, with almost a look of tenderness in her expression. "Your hair is still a little wet from your shower."
And just like that, all of the tension dissipated from the room. Danny couldn't help but grin from Sam's smile. He grabbed her arms in a swift movement, startling her, and leaned in with a look of mischief in his eyes.
"Oh, is it? Let me just dry it then—"
Sam had no chance of escaping, with Danny firmly holding her in place, and let out a rare squeal of laughter as Danny tilted his head towards her and gave it a rowdy shake. Tiny droplets adorned her face as she screamed out his name several times, playfully trying to get out of his grasp. But it was no use; she was completely covered by the time he finally let go of her.
They stood in front of each other, letting their heartbeats calm down as they sported silly grins on their faces. Danny could tell that Sam was trying her best to feign disapproval, but her eyes were gleaming with too much mirth for him to believe it.
Danny let out a laugh as he took in Sam's appearance. "You have paint… Everywhere." He chuckled as he gently removed a glob of paint that had dried in her hair. A faint blush flooded Sam's cheeks, and he was surprised that he really enjoyed the sight of it.
"Yeah, well… Your hair has never looked unrulier." Sam snickered as she reached up and combed her hand through his messy hair in a feeble attempt to fix it. Danny tried to ignore the small shiver that went through his body from her touch.
He shook his hair in disobedience one more time, earning an eye roll from Sam and giving him the chance to shake out the weird thoughts that had momentarily taken over. Feeling the need to change the topic, he cleared his throat awkwardly and tilted his head up to address the gigantic, celestial elephant in the room.
"Sam… This is amazing. What you've done… I can't believe you did this."
Clearly, he was the articulate type.
Sam cracked a small smile at him, flushing pink from his compliment. Danny knew that she hadn't planned to show this to anyone so soon, but he hoped that his praise would make her feel better about it.
"Thanks, Danny. It was just an idea I've had for ages. I wanted to do it by myself, for myself. It's taken me all week and I can barely lift my arms up anymore, but I'm really proud of it."
There was a real vulnerability in her voice as she spoke. For some reason, it made him want to pull her close to him—but he shut down the thought before it could go any further.
He looked towards her and found that she was staring at him, inspecting his expression for any signs of fake authenticity. A minute later she seemed satisfied and poked his chest playfully.
"Anyway, it looks like you got a good amount of color at the pool today. A tan suits you, Fenton."
Her eyes widened from her admission, as if she had said something wrong, and she quickly rambled on. "I mean, I'm sure Paulina was happy about it."
There was a touch of sadness in her voice that Danny couldn't place the reason behind. He shrugged at her comment; he didn't exactly know why, but his interest in Paulina was dwindling by the day.
"Yeah well, it would've been way more fun if you had been there too, Sammy," he teased, enjoying the scowl that appeared on her face whenever he mentioned her childhood nickname. He really wished she had been there today; they would have just poked fun at each other and played the same silly pool games they did when they were kids.
The sun had almost completely set, leaving just enough light in the room to highlight the smudges of purple and silver paint on both sides of Sam's face. A perverse idea entered Danny's head and, before he could think twice about it, he cupped her face in his hands and swiped the paint around her cheeks with his thumbs.
For the second time that day, Sam stared at Danny in complete shock. He burst out laughing and slowly took a few steps back, knowing that payback was directly on her mind. Sure enough, a devilish smile graced Sam's face.
"Alright, Danny… Two can play this game."
Before he could process what she meant, Sam had launched herself onto him, holding on as tightly as possible. The image was almost comical—she seemed so tiny compared to him—but she had a surprisingly strong grip. Danny weakly attempted to pull her off of him while doing his best to ignore the weird sensations that were taking over when she put her paint-splattered hands on his neck, reached up and cupped his face, and finally (on her tiptoes) weaved her fingers into his hair.
"There," she announced breathlessly, finally pulling away. She was breathing quite heavily, and he attested it to the physical exertion and nothing else. "Now we're even."
Danny looked down at his appearance; his jeans and dark shirt were covered in blotches of paint, and he was sure his face looked even more chaotic.
"Um, really Sam? I think we can do better."
With a glint of mischief in his eyes, he rushed towards the nearest bucket of paint, dipped a brush into it, and splashed her with the dark purple pigment that was inside. Sam let out a squeal, mixed with a high-pitched laugh, and ran to the nearest bucket beside her.
The remainder of sunset was spent splattering paint on each other, laughing harder than they had in months. When they finally called a truce, another fit of giggles erupted from Sam at the state of their appearance; they were an absolute mess. Danny couldn't remember the last time he had seen her so carefree.
When they finally sobered up from their giddiness, she ordered a pizza for them to enjoy over the speckled, tarp-covered floor. It was the best memory of Danny's spring break, by far.
Danny kept his gaze up at the cosmic atmosphere Sam had painted. He didn't feel sleepy anymore, but he could easily occupy his time analyzing all of the stars, swirls, and small details Sam had incorporated into her work. Deep down, he knew it was an extension of her soul.
Sam shifted in her sleep, letting out a small breath and moving the hand that was wrapped around his torso squarely onto his chest.
There was one last thing Danny was very aware of. He couldn't deny that this felt… Nice.
-:-
Through the haze of consciousness slowly drifting through her, Sam registered that everything felt perfect. Her bed seemed even cozier than usual and, oddly enough, a warmth radiated through her body. Sighing in content, she burrowed her face further into the pillow she was clutching onto in her sleep.
The pillow chuckled.
Sam's eyes flew open. The pillow she had practically gone to second base with was very much not an inanimate object and instead her best friend, Danny Fenton. She was lying on his firm chest and invading every inch of his personal space.
She immediately sat up, stiff as a board with the expression of a deer caught in headlights. Her hair was stuck up in several places and a beet red flush was slowly covering her entire face. Danny couldn't help but smile from how adorable she looked.
"Danny! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—I have no idea how I—I'm so mortified." She looked on the verge of a panic attack. Realizing that, for once, he needed to be the voice of reason in the situation, Danny sat up calmly and gently looked her in the eyes.
"Sam, it's totally fine. After what you went through last night, I just wanted you to rest. Don't worry about it."
Her embarrassment dissolved considerably from his words, and Sam merely nodded before pulling her legs to her chest (well, as successfully as she could with a cast over her ankle) as she waited for her pulse to stabilize. She rubbed her hands over her eyes as the last few hours flooded back to her with an unforgiving ferocity.
"Sam…" Danny had tenderly placed his hand on her shoulder, and his voice was pleading. She wasn't sure if she was ready to look up.
"Sam, please." He let go of her shoulder and closed the space between them, until he was sitting right beside her. He needed her to tell him what was going on.
It took another minute but she finally relented, uncovering her face and wrapping her arms tightly around her legs instead. She was surprised to feel tears prickling on her eyes and chose to look away from him as she spoke.
"Exactly a week ago, I had the most awful nightmare. I don't want to go into the details, but… You and Tucker both died in it. So horrifically."
She shuddered slightly as she said the last word, and Danny placed his hand on her back, rubbing it comfortingly. It gave Sam enough strength to go on.
"I convinced myself that it was a fluke, that it wouldn't happen again… But I had another one last night and it was just as bad, if not worse…"
A tear escaped from Sam's eye, and she quickly swiped it before he could see. He did.
"Both times, I think there was a ghost in my dream. She had lavender eyes, a purple endoplasmic blast, and the creepiest laugh."
Sam was officially trembling at this point, and Danny forwent the hand on her back to instead wrap his arm around her small frame and pull her towards his chest. She succumbed with no hesitation, placing her face in the nook of his neck and trying her hardest not to fully crumble.
"I don't know Danny, at first I thought it was a weird coincidence but the more I think about it, the more it feels targeted. Maybe some ghost is intentionally doing this to me."
Danny's eyes glowed green and he tightened his hold around Sam. His thoughts were going a mile a minute as he tried to piece together the information she was giving him and all of the explanations he could possibly think of.
Neither of them wanted to say it out loud, but they were both thinking about the same thing—Danny's ominous story about the ghost he couldn't find the other day. The concern he had confided to Sam when he had been flying her to school.
They stayed silent for a minute until Danny cleared his throat, causing Sam to shift until she could lock eyes with him again. Every ounce of Danny's expression was pure focus.
"Sammy, I'm not going to let this keep happening to you. We're going to get to the bottom of this."
Another tear silently crept down Sam's face as she felt a mixture of hope and fear. She moved to swipe it away but Danny beat her to it, gently padding his thumb across her cheek before holding her so tightly, it almost hurt.
He didn't want to admit it, but he had a bad feeling about this.
