Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, but if I did, it would definitely be a different kind of show. And that not-so-platonic friendship between Danny and Sam would be public and so much more.
Author's Note: This is my first Danny Phantom fic, and hopefully not my last. Please review and tell me what you think! ;D
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You Never Were Alone
1 August 2004
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She's a mystery, that one. She manages to hide and push everyone away that wants to help her; she's independent, and won't give into weakness easily. I keep trying and trying to get her to talk to me, but she just makes some lame excuse about cramps or something and leaves me alone; well, Tucker is there, too, but, still, I feel alone at heart.
When I see her upset, I end up getting upset, too. When she cries, which is not often at all, it pulls on my heart and I have to hold everything back in me to reach out and cradle her in my arms as sobs let free. When she's happy, hell, I'm flying high in the sky, loving the way her violet eyes sparkle as her smile widens.
I've been thinking I'm getting soft, but I've always had a soft spot for Sam in my heart; she's like a sister to me. But, thinking more into it, that would be illegal, the thoughts I think about her. So, we're like hick cousins that could possibly end up on a talk show because of things going on that shouldn't be.
Recently, though, she's been hiding more and more, not coming out of her room, only for school. I check up on her in my ghost form sometimes, but she's usually sleeping, her face mascara-stained from crying. She also switched from wearing her tank top to long sleeves, and doesn't even bother putting her hair up anymore. I feel horrible as I watch her, practically ghastly, walking through the halls to her next class, only talking to me and Tucker; plus, she won't even talk during class anymore. It was getting to a point where something had to be done, but she wouldn't allow it.
Now, however, it has been rumored she's skipping fourth period to go sit in the bathroom and vent. I don't know what happens to be bothering her at this point in time, but I want to be there. I sound like a stalker, don't I?
Putting my books from third period in my locker, but lamely forgetting to get my Chemistry stuff out, due to my mind being far away. I sighed as I realized I locked it already, then gave up trying to fumble for the combination and stalked off to the boys' bathroom. My hands wouldn't cooperate with me and I couldn't make it to class before the bell rang. It worked out for the best, however, since I share a table with Sam, and I would have been alone anyways, just as I am now.
I go ghost, then turn invisible on instinct as I sit on the window ledge in the boys bathroom; I hear a few other guys walk in, talking about their 'lays' of the week, probably.
"You hear that goth girl that hangs around with Fenton got suspended?" one jock said to the other, walking in a stall.
I felt my eyes widen in shock as I listened to them talk about Sam. No, I mouthed, a million thoughts running through my head. Is she okay?
"Nah, I didn't hear, did that really happen?"
"Yeah, it's been spreading throughout the whole school; they found her passed out in the bathroom with a razor blade."
My heart began beating more rapidly than before as I phased through the wall of the boys' bathroom and made my way to the girls' bathroom. Why would she ever do such a thing to herself? Didn't she know that people care about her?
I flew through the halls, hell-bent on finding Sam; I had to see if she was all right. Maybe she's still in there, I thought. Searching through every classroom and every bathroom on every floor, she was nowhere to be found. So, that left one last possible place for her to be: home. I know she probably got screamed at and is now awaiting her first appointment at a psychiatrist, but I hope she hasn't done anything more that she'll regret; more than cutting herself.
As it's known by many, I don't know how to act around girls, but with Sam, she gives me reason to believe in myself, since every once in a while, she flirts back with me. I don't overdo anything, but it's nice to believe she'd always be there for me. If she were ever to...
I shook my head to clear my head from those kind of thoughts. I don't want to think about anything revolving around her dying. Never.
I finally reach her house and go up to her bedroom, hoping to find Sam, safe and sound, possibly watching tv, reading, or sleeping. But, as luck would have it, I found her sleeping–on the floor, curled up in a ball.
It looked as if she fainted, just as she was about to get to the bed, and I could see something red staining the carpet. I flew to her door and locked it, then turned back to my normal form. I ran to her side and dropped to my knees. She was heavy and listless, not moving at all; I feared the worst, but I could see the rise and fall of her chest, so she was still alive.
I sighed quietly in relief and I brought her head to my lap. Staying silent, I lifted her left arm and pulled down the sleeve to see how much damage she inflicted onto herself.
I looked down in disbelief as I found deep, ragged scars. Some looked as if they had been reopened numerous times, close to healing, and some looked very fresh. Blood got on my fingers as I held her arm up, but I couldn't care less.
My eyes darted around the room to find something to stop the bleeding. Seeing a box of tissues above and to the left, I reached up, grabbed the box and nearly ripped it apart as I got the tissues out. I held the tissues with pressure against her left wrist as I carefully checked her right wrist. Only small wounds, but nothing as bad as her left wrist, as I could see. She is right-handed, of course damage would be worse on the left wrist.
With my left hand still holding onto her left wrist, pressing down the tissue, I raised my right and ran my fingers through her hair, hoping not to wake her up. She stirred a little, but didn't wake fully. I know she's a heavy sleeper, so the only way I could wake her up would be if I screamed something about a sale at that store she's always in–something like that would work for the old Sam. But now, I had no clue how I was going to help her, save her. I needed to, even if it resulted in hurting us both.
I felt her begin to stir after around ten minutes of watching her delicate, but pained features. She looked unhealthily pale, and that added onto the weight that was pushing down in my chest. I heard a moan of pain from Sam, and felt her try and tug her arm from mine, not realizing the fact we were both in her room, her passed out due to loss of blood.
"Huh...?" the words toppled out of her mouth in a low mumble as she opened her eyes and hazily looked up at me. "Danny...? What are you doing here?"
I tried to keep it in, I swear; I don't know what came over me. One second I'm looking down at her looking up at me, and the next second I'm sobbing onto her shoulder.
"Why did you do it? Why do you still do it?" I managed to choke out between sobs.
"Do wh-" she realized what I was implying and looked at her arms. "Oh."
"Why?" I asked again, regaining my composure enough to stop crying. "I never want to lose you to something so stupid, Sam!"
She hung her head as she whispered, "I have no purpose here, Danny. Why should I stay in a place where I get made fun of and I don't get taken seriously. Why should I stay in a place where there wouldn't be a difference if I wasn't there?!"
I felt her shoulders start to shake and I held her closer to me. I sighed, everything would change if she was gone.
"You make a difference, Sam."
"Oh, yeah?" her voice rose as she turned to look into my eyes, her violet ones leaking with tears. "To whom?"
"To me," I whispered, looking away after hearing her gasp briefly.
"Danny... I-I don't need to be here. I'm alone, no one-"
"Shut up!" I looked back to her with a wild fire in my eyes, "I would probably kill myself and come right after you – if, er, I wasn't a halfa. You're my best friend, Sam, I would do anything for you, but you trying to inflict pain on yourself and possibly trying to kill yourself? It kills part of me thinking that you want to get out of here so badly. You know people have it much worse than you? They continue living on the streets and begging for money, not slicing themselves. You need to have hope. In a year we'll be out of high school, and you can go wherever you want! You don't need to end your life over something so stupid as people not accepting you! You're accepted by many people; too bad we're not high on the popularity status, but we still care about you!
"My life would have been completely different if I hadn't met you, Sam. I wouldn't be so happy and optimistic all the time. I wouldn't know a lot of things without you. I wouldn't know how it feels to be a vegetarian, since you made me do that for a month. Most of all, I..." I couldn't do it, that's what. I felt the words die on my lips as she looked up at me with interest. I took a deep breath, steadying myself before telling her my biggest secret. It should be known by now what that secret was. "I wouldn't know what love feels like."
I felt that feeling in my throat again, but tried pushing it back. Resistance was futile in my case, when two small streams of tears fell from my eyes.
Her anger faded as she thought about what I said. Oh, please, if there is a God, make her believe in what I said. I really did mean all of it.
"D-Do you think that's true?" she stammered, looking down at where we were connected still. The blood-stained tissue not picking up any more blood since the bleeding must have stopped by now, I hope.
"Every single word I said is true, and I won't take any of it back."
She started to cry, "I-I'm sorry, Danny. I never... I never wanted to hurt you."
"But you hurt yourself."
She brought up her right hand to cover her face as she cried. I sniffled a little bit, but rocked her back and forth slowly as she cried.
"Please stop crying," I whispered, pulling her right hand down.
I finally let go of her wrist and pulled the tissue away. I saw her eyes dart to her wrist and she bit her bottom lip.
"Do you hate me?"
I was taken back by that question, but rested my head on top of hers, "The opposite."
"You... love me?" she asked hesitantly, as if I was speaking another language and she needed to listen to every syllable in order to get the correct meaning.
I felt pretty sure of myself as I nodded when she turned her head slightly to see my eyes. For the first time in weeks she smiled. That beautiful smile, but with something different in it. Something I was sure I would be the only one to see. She blinked back tears as she pushed herself away me, and woozily stood up.
"I should... get cleaned up," she looked around her dark room briefly, her eyes resting on her bed. I could feel the air thick with uncertainty and uncomfortableness. I stood, too, then threw away the tissue I was still holding onto.
"Yeah," I agreed, looking in her direction.
"I'm sorry you–I wish you never saw that," she said sheepishly, rubbing her arm.
I chuckled in embarrassment as I shot back, "I wish you never saw me cry."
"Everyone shows weakness to another at one point in their lives. You're the only person who has seen me cry," she said quietly, looking into my eyes.
Right then, I wanted to scoop her into my arms and never let go, but I replied, "You're the only person who has seen me cry, also."
"Then it's our little secret," she looked to the floor, but then looked up. "Do you mind waiting while I go take a shower?"
I know that she is emotionally unstable, but the thoughts of her in the shower flooded through my mind. I imagined her hair wet, water cascading down her–
"Danny?" my head shot up as her voice broke through my inappropriate thoughts.
"Yes?"
"Do you mind?" she asked again.
"No, I don't mind," I thought as pictures of a towel-clad Sam ran across my mind. I know she knew something was up since I felt a hot blush cross my cheeks. Great, this is wonderful.
"Do you want to get cleaned up, too?"
WHAT?
"What?" I asked, somewhat alarmed. My voice cracked somewhere in there, as well.
She gestured to my hands, "Just to wash... my blood off your hands."
I sighed and nodded, but couldn't help feel down that I wasn't going to be in there–yeah. I am horrible.
Quickly, I walked into her bathroom and shut the door behind me. I washed my hands, then my face. I sighed again as I was drying myself off, then exited the bathroom.
I'd like to thank the Lord, wherever he may be right now, as I saw a towel-clad Sam rummaging through her drawers for clothing.
I did everything in my power not to have a nosebleed at her legs, or even at the part of the towel were could see a bit of her – Oh, man, I really need a cold shower.
She looked over to me as I exited the bathroom, and I guess the look on my face was priceless, because the next second she smirked and laughed. Laughed. There was hope for her yet.
"Hey, uh, what did your parents say about this whole thing?"
"They don't know," she answered calmly.
"What? How could they not know?" I asked in curiosity as I sat on her bed. Make myself at home, why don't I?
"They're both gone on business for the next two weeks, but still, they won't know since I had a maid pick me up. They've never really seen my parents at that school, so she got a great talking to about my 'behavior' and I have to go to the school psychiatrist when I get back. They thought she was my mom," she shook her head at the stupidity and threw me the remote to her TV. "Have fun."
"Wait a sec," I called out as she walked into the bathroom.
"Yeah?" she turned, her towel slipping a little.
Trying to keep myself under control, I replied, "How long are you out of school for?"
"Just a week, then I go back – but, hey, isn't school still going on now?"
My eyes widened as I realized she was right. It was last period. "Should I try and get back and then say I was in the boys' bathroom sick all day?"
She stood there pondering about my predicament, then answered, "No, there could have been people in all three bathrooms on each floor vouching that you weren't in there. Hmm–they know your parents, so it's a hopeless cause trying to send a maid over there, but..." she paused, tapping her foot as she thought. "I got it! You go in there all ghost-like and leave a note saying that you were supposed to get an early dismissal (you know, just for that stupid documentation rule), and take over the guidance counselor and tell that blonde who works at the desk now that 'he' personally saw you out and there shouldn't be a problem."
"That's crazy enough to work, you know?" I put the remote down and stood up. "I'm going ghost!" Turning into my alter-ego, Danny Phantom, I stood there, with a smirk on my face. "I'll be back by the time you get out of the shower, and – wait-" I walked up to her and held out a gloved hand. "Give me all of the razor blades you have." I meant business, I didn't want her hurting herself at all while I was gone.
"Danny-"
"Now!"
She sighed and went into her medicine cabinet and pulled out two and handed them to me.
"Is that all?" I prodded – even though she seemed as if she was in a better mood, I wasn't going to take any chances.
"Ye-No," she sighed in defeat, her shoulders slumping.
I still held out my hand expectantly as she went into her purse and pulled out one more and handed it to me. "Good." I flushed them down the toilet. Is that possible? Oh well. I turned to her and smiled, then began to leave.
"Hey, uh, Mr. Phantom?" she asked with an innocent look on her face. Wait, Sam... innocent?
"Yeah, Sam?" I stopped just in front of her, the smile never leaving my face.
She pointed to her cheek with a shy smile. It seemed a bit weird as I looked at her with a confused look on my face, but then I realized what she meant.
I chuckled and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. I was blushing, I knew that for sure, and so was she by the looks of it. Suddenly, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her in a way that I only dreamed about. Yeah, she was still in a towel. Insert big cheesy smile here.
"You never were alone, okay? You've always got me. Don't forget about that," I pulled away a little bit from the hug so she could see my face.
"I will never forget that," she reassured me as she smiled up at me.
I looked down to her and felt myself leaning down slowly, giving her enough time to back away if she wanted to. She reached one hand up to my cheek, but still held onto the towel with her other hand. Our lips met (finally), and for once, nothing was wrong with the world. After a few minutes, she pulled away.
"Now I know I'll never be alone, Danny, since I have you."
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End Note: Did you like it? Let me know! It's nice to get reviews...
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