-cough-

This chapter sucks, FYI. XD

I do not own DP, nupe.

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“I think he’s been poisoned.”

“What? You’re kidding me!”

If anything, Tucker was shocked. His glasses were steaming up, a sign of nervousness, and his teal eyes were wide with panic. Jazz had only just relayed the tale of Danny’s impending doom in hopes that, being the only other brains in the small four-person knot of Team Phantom, he might be able to help her out. She had arrived at his house about a half-hour ago while Sam watched over Danny. Once Tucker got over his panic, Jazz hoped they could move forward a tad.

“But – but – Danny, poisoned?” Tucker cried. “That’s – not possible! I mean, how would Danny be poisoned?”

“Easily,” Jazz replied crisply. “Although I’m not sure if it was administered before or after he passed out and our mystery girl dumped him in the park.”

“Jazz, this – I’m not just in denial about this; the last thing we did was fight!” Tucker wailed. “And if he doesn’t make it through this, I’ll have to live with the fact that the last thing I did to my best friend was practically break his heart!”

“I thought that was Sam’s job,” Jazz muttered under her breath, having heard about Sam and Danny’s disaster through the grapevine of Casper High.

“Maybe it was,” Tucker sighed. “Ever since that new girl showed up, both my and Sam’s relationship with him has really deteriorated – all in just a day! First he dumps his lunch on Sam, and then he blows a gasket at me. I don’t get what his problem is; he’s barely talked to me since lunch today.”

Jazz sighed.

“I know, same story on my side of the rectangle. When he got home from school today he all but yelled at me to buzz off. Barely even talked to me. When I called up to ask him if he wanted a snack or something, he just started acting all emotional and replied with a maudlin tone, ‘food wouldn’t help.’” she shrugged, rolling her eyes, before suddenly noticing something quite obvious about Tucker’s speech. She mentally smacked herself for not noticing it earlier. “What new girl?”

“About time you asked,” Tucker grumbled. “I checked her up on the school student files – Adelaide Monteith, freshman, from Chicago.” he shrugged. “Nothing interesting. Just same old stuff.”

“Adelaide… Monteith… ohh, why does that ring a bell?” Jazz moaned. “Chicago, huh? Did she have a Chicago accent?”

Tucker frowned.

“No… come to think of it… sounded more like a Californian to me – maybe even from the Badger State; couldn’t tell.”

“Wisconsin…” Jazz muttered. “Could she maybe have something to do with Vlad?”

“I doubt it,” Tucker replied, shaking his head. “I mean, if she were, wouldn’t Vlad have already come cackling over here, blathering about his plan and blasting Danny a few times before getting booted back to home sweet home? No. She probably doesn’t have anything to do with that quack.”

“Probably not,” Jazz sighed dully, defeated.

“Where’s Sam, anyway?” Tucker inquired.

“Oh – I left her back at home with Danny. She told Mom and Dad about Danny’s room and they pretty quickly moved him into the spare. He’s resting… well, more like writhing…”

“You left Sam at the house?” Tucker whimpered, his glasses steaming up again. “Jazz, no offense, but – that was very stupid.”

“What do you mean?” Jazz asked quizzically.

“With that ‘girl’ that attacked Danny still flying around like some sort of fugitive from justice, couldn’t she be in danger?”

“Oh, my God – Tucker, you could be right.” Jazz bolted to her feet and zoomed out the door. “COME ON!”

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Meanwhile, Sam was alone at FentonWorks, sitting patiently by Danny’s bedside as she watched him with worried eyes. Jack and Maddie had gone out – perhaps to find a doctor, perhaps to buy some new equipment for the lab; she wasn’t sure. She sighed and hung her head, feeling tired, and her black hair fell around her in an obsidian curtain. Tears slid down her face.

She stayed in this pose for such a long time that it startled her when the curtain parted. A hand brushed aside her bangs; another made its way to her chin and lifted it up.

Danny was awake.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice quiet and enervated.

Sam quickly reached out and touched his hand.

“Danny.”

Danny cringed slightly as he sat up a tad. He smiled weakly at Sam.

“Hey,” he greeted her.

Sam nodded, eyes teary.

“Hey.”

“Sam, about… the lunch tray thing…” Danny sighed, gazing down with shame. “I’m… I’m so, so sorry…”

“No problemo,” Sam whispered back. “Apology humbly and most graciously accepted.”

Danny smiled warmly.

“That’s what I love about you,” he mumbled. “You’re just so… forgiving.” He cracked a tiny smile. “And so beautiful…”

He must be delusional. Or on crack.

“And – and I…” Danny suddenly stopped. He stared off into space, his eyes wide, and frowned slightly. He was completely silent, completely unaware of Sam’s presence. Sam frowned worriedly.

“Danny?” she asked cautiously.

And then he screamed. It shattered the silence of the room… pain, agony – terror? No, Sam concluded… no – what was there to be scared of? Danny didn’t stop – the wail was endless – he all but writhed around on the bed, clutching his abdomen, doubled over with pain.

Sam sat up abruptly, horror mounting like a climactic event deep within her chest.

“Danny!” she yelled.

His scream suddenly began to fade. Within an instant, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Danny pitched forward, and then lay still.

Sam shot to his side.

“Danny!” she moaned.

She took his shoulders and sat him up. His head lolled about loosely, looking like it was about to fall off.

“Danny, come on!” she wailed. “I hate to sound cliché, but SPEAK TO ME!”

He did nothing of the sort. No one ever did.

Sam sighed and set him back down.

Better check his pulse before I start freaking… she thought. Just to be on the safe side. Oh, God, would Jazz be proud.

She took his wrist and put her thumb on it to feel for a pulse. A tremor ran through her body and she drew back sharply as if she’d been badly burned.

Danny had no pulse.