Be With You
Upon request by……practically everybody, this has officially become a one-shot turned two-shot. This is dedicated for everyone who requested it and who reviewed, you rock majorly, and I appreciate your enthusiasm. I only hope I could top the last chapter, well, you tell me what'cha think.
Disclaimer: DP belongs to Butch Hartman. So yeah.
"I wish I could hold your hand or something."
"Just hold it up, I can see it."
Feebly, the boy in the white shirt and blue jeans waved his right hand, fingers flexed, behind the glass at her bed stricken form, "Sam, you're the bravest person I know."
She made a face despite the total weakness spreading rapidly in her system, "If you get mushy on me Fenton I'm throwing my bedpan at you." Even with his absolutely shaken nerves, Danny cracked a smile. It wasn't the needles or operation that had him jittery, he went through the procedure without a compliant, it was seeing her so pasty and lost in an ocean of white sterile sheets. Did they intentionally put her in a big bed to have the piles of useless sheets swallow her naturally petite body up? He had seen her in the hospital gown; she was so thin it looked as if if someone had seized her arm, it would have inadvertently broken it into two.
Lacing her bony fingers, Sam kicked her feet free of the tangle, "Well, I've got an hour before sleepy time. Any last requests?"
His whole attitude darkened, "Sam…..don't…"
Facial expression still nonchalant, she replied, staring up at him with a vulnerable unmade-up face, "Didn't you hear me the first time? I told you, stop hanging onto a false hope that everything is going to be alright. The transplant might not work, I might not live tomorrow."
After the last sentence was spoken, the flat of his hands slammed into the thick glass angrily, it only quivered in response to his feat.
"What is your problem? How can you think like that!"
Normally, Sam's hot headed temper would come into a play with a verbal fight but recent events seemed to have deflated the hot air and she admitted openly with an intended sneer, "I'm terrified Danny. I'm terrified that if not tomorrow then in a week I won't wake up. That I won't see my parent's faces again, even if they don't understand me I love them regardless, they got me this far and so did you," her haunting sneer dulled, "You call me brave--"
The young girl shook her head neglectfully at his gripe, he insisted, breathing heavier in effort to keep his voice from cracking, "You have to be to do this. I know you want to live Sam, but the way you act makes me want to second guess myself."
Danny leaned against the pane, bright blue indulgent with sobriety, "Sam……tell me you want to live, I need to hear it from you…."
With a shuddering breath, she covered her mouth with a hand, the curl of jet black bangs shielding her dampening eyes from his visual. At the echo of her nickname, softened with a plea only Danny could make without shame, her hand shifted to cup the side of her face. Something glistening trickled down her jaw line,"I don't care anymore."
One week earlier…
"Tucker, pick a channel and stick with it before I chuck my fruit salad at your fat head."
Both boys in the cozy one-person hospital room glanced at Sam's food tray. Danny commented, picking up the small foam cup with the small drying wedges of melon, "This doesn't look very lethal."
Sam folded her thin arms stubbornly, "I'll think of something."
Their other best friend stuck out his tongue in a very teasing child-like manner and found a program "Awesome! My favorite show!" ogling starry-eyed at the television screen as pictures of monster trucks crushed metal with much tougher dent-proof metal. That left the pair to amuse themselves. As Danny settled his heelson Sam's bed and rocked back on the legs of his chair, she informed the only person listening, "Better get use to it, tomorrow they're kicking out all guests."
At his confused expression, lovable too she thought to herself, Sam added as an afterthought, "They're putting me in a germ-free room to get ready for the operation."
"So this is the last day we get to see you?"
"Oh, you can still see me; you just can't be in the same room as me."
Danny nodded to signal his understanding, Sam looked past him to glare heatedly at the back of Tucker's beret, "Tucker, I would appreciate it if you'd turn that damn thing off; it's giving me a headache."
Strangely obedient that day, he switched off the sound to the monitor and parked himself at the end of her bed to gaze shrewdly between them. They could almost see the wheels revolving within the confines of the geek's head. Tucker beamed in a supposedly harmless approach, "So…Danny, I heard that you visit Sam's house late a few nights back."
"How did you…..?"
Penetrating blue peered over at his best friend who took a sudden interest in the color of her fingernails. He caught himself to ask tonelessly, "What about it?"
Tucker's curiosity seemed to be fueled by their concealed discomfort, "Anything happen? What did I miss?"
The first three seconds that passed were oddly blank before Sam shrugged calmly, "Not much," followed immediately by Danny who managed to choke out, "It rained….outside."
"So what, no fake out make outs?"
An ugly red flourished over the ghost boy's face, Sam snapped dryly, keeping firm eye contact on the bed of her nails, "Tucker, just watch your show."
He wickedly grinned and happily turned around to un-mute the TV monitor, his attention once again consumed thoughtlessly. Aggravated, she rubbed the skin around her eye with a slim finger. The no-longer blushing boy caught the exasperated behavior and questioned, "Do you want me to get you something Sam?"
"A muzzle and a cage for Meatboy….maybe some ibuprofen."
Danny reached for the red call button and she grabbed his wrist in a rather quick motion, "No don't bother, I'm not allowed." It took a moment for her to realize that he was eyeing the clench she had on him and how much he must have hated to feel her papery flesh. She was well aware of how she must have looked, gaunt, pale, and downright repulsive. She never really cared how she looked around other people, her nonconformist side knew that, but…Danny wasn't other people. He sorta….made her want to look better. Not like some cancer patient.
Disappointed, her cool fingers retracted from their source of heat.
Tucker went home around six, everyone was fairly aware of how he still feared hospitals, and it was summer after all. No one was willing enough to stay in a creepy smelly hospital for all hours of the day.
Well…almost no one.
Icy blue flicked up to the oversized clock above the hospital bed drearily, he suppressed an unintelligible yawn to which his best friend frowned dimly at, "You should go home. Besides the night nurse will be here any minute and she's gonna kick you out."
"My ride doesn't come until a half an hour anyway," He stretched his arms over his head, popping a few achy joints. Sam returned the yawn, sitting on the edge of the mattress directly across from him and curled her bare feet up. The lone window in the room full of twilight, obscurity enveloped everything save where they resided. She moved around uncomfortably, rolling her shoulders, "I hate this gown."
As if on cue, her left shoulder slipped free of the gown's grasp to allure Danny's observance with its flawless white curve.
"Yeah…yeah, I hate it too."
Sam coughed on her bottle of water she had been sipping, blinking amused, "Excuse me?"
Bright red burning him with embarrassment, he gestured wildly, a little too wildly thus only provoking her to coyly raise her eyebrows. Danny invaded her personal space by scooting his chair closer and fixing the sleeve of the gown himself. Her spine stiffened when a light fingertip strayed over her exposed skin and stayed there to blaze even after contact was lost. He didn't quite pull away and quietly glanced up at her dumbfounded stare, he didn't become aware of his actions until one of her slender hands pushed into his chest, they had almost been nose to nose and he was dangerously close to sealing the boundaries in between them.
Familiar violet, from his dreams, from childhood, darted rapidly left to right, "What are you doing?"
"I don't know."
Something in the way he said it confessed honesty…maybe a little too much. But there was something in the way the illumination from the lamp at the headboard clung to her dark lashes, and it might have been his imagination but he could have sworn she was smirking just the tiniest bit.
Sam tilted her head aside to let him have more access as their lips touched, the deep warmth, the affection from his kiss drowning the bitter colddecaying inside her senses. How this was happening, why this was happening, explanations could be damned. Along with pride. Nothing mattered, absolutely nothing but Danny's heartbeat against hers.
With an intensity that was not anticipated by either of them, she wrapped her delicate arms around his neck to kiss him back with the earnestly she had been holding back for so many years. Surprised, Danny's weight fell forward and his hands landed on the bedspread to steady himself. Her arms slid away from his neck, coming to rest at her sides. Still leaning over her, right in the middle, nearness was broken much to the boy's discontent. She panted, keeping a firm clasp on his shirt collar, "Danny, I have to tell you…"
He held back these new urges to kiss spaces on her face unexplored, her neck, the tips of her pinkened ears by biting down on his lips when she glanced upwards in a state of artless sincerity, throat raspy, "Danny….I…"
Bright white light poured from an unnamed source, blinding both teenagers when they jerkily gazed at it. A disembodied voice declared, "Time to go Prince Charming, your parents are waiting for you. You can see your girlfriend tomorrow during visiting hours."
Almost automatically, they opened their mouths.
"He's not my….."
"She's not my….."
The unfinished sentences hung in the air. The disembodied voice now associated to the chunky outline in the doorway threatened sternly, "Ms. Manson…"
Sam growled annoyed, gritting her teeth, "I got it, can you give the sick girl a minute?" With a free hand, she managed to unkindly shove him away and mumble an apology when he stumbled, turning her back to them and hiding herself beneath her blankets.
Someone up there….really hated her.
Turmoil became too great to ignore. With a furious roar, an earsplitting crush, several fragile items took a nasty tumble onto the basement floor of FentonWorks. Footsteps were heard right above it, pounding down the staircase in time to watch as the single occupant smashed his large fists on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Jazz winced as she daintily stepped on a shattered beaker, coming forward to take her enraged brother's shoulder in a motion of succor, "Danny."
The boy, looking particularly beaten up and scratched not only on his body but visibly in the condition of his clothes whirled around, stance rigid as if he was expecting to fight someone, instead slumped back into the now cleared workstation. Noisy breathes wrung between his parted lips.
With a heavy thump, Danny fell to the floor, mumbling into his nicked hands. She heard one word unmistakably.
A wash of protectiveness prevented her from getting angry at his rage-filled carelessness and his red-headed big sister stroked his hair, numbly, he accepted her concern.
"They won't even let me see her."
Jazz offered in a whisper, "Sam's parents probably don't want to get her upset when she's recovering." She absentmindedly examined a developing bruise on the side of his scratched face, probably from a recent fight with a ghost, his unreleased fury becoming unstoppable when he took it out on objects in the lab.
Her little brother's face screwed up into an unpleasant glower, not meant for her, "Sam's my best friend, I gave her the marrow, the least her parents could do is tell me if my best friend is alive. That's all I fuc--"
He ignored her screech of a scolding defensively, "I just want to know. That's all I want."
Jazz frowned sympathetically, some people. Danny was right, after all he did the Manson's could at least let him in on her progress instead of shunning him from their lives. Times was beginning to border on the line of almost a month now. If Sam was awake, chances were she was probably too weak to do anything out of bed, she would have found a way to reach him. Unless they were purposely keeping the subject away from her friends.
Mouth set in a straight red line, she hoisted him up by the arm, "C'mon, I think it's time we make a phone call."
"What if they don't answer?" Her brother could already see where this was going.
She released an unusually malicious smile, "Oh believe me, they'll be answering to somebody."
Amethyst widened at the small uncertain voice coming from her left. Nearby, clutching the railing of the swing set, a boy with spiky black hair glanced at her reluctantly.
She knew him...the boy who asked for her lollipop. Nicely she might add. She couldn't remember why she let him though, maybe because he was the one boy who smelled good when she had to share her sleeping rug with him during naptime. Plus he didn't shove bugs in her face like that boy with the glasses and weird red hat.
Using a sweet haughty accent, Sam said, "Hi Danny. Whadda want?" Her little legs pumped slightly so that she was swinging back and forth during their conversation.
Young Danny shuffled his feet, incoherent words coming from his closing mouth.
Sam swung higher, calling out, "I can't hear you! Talk louder!"
His little face flushed with a mixture of mortification and exertion.
"I said, thank you!"
With a cloud of dirt, the little girl gasped and came to an abrupt halt. Her black Mary Jane's caked with mud, Sam rose from the swing seat, "Did you just say thank you?"
He replied crossly, "Yeah, you wanna make something out of it?" When he puffed out his chest to look more intimidating, Sam held back her hysterics. This boy was just too funny…and kind of goofy looking too.
"Well, since I gave you something you have to give me back a favor."
Danny narrowed his tiny ice blue eyes, "A favor?"
She nodded, "Yep. I'll tell you when you paid it back though." With another nod signaling the conversation was over, Sam sat back down on her swing domineeringly. He joined her on the other swing, challenging her to a contest. Drowsy heat encircled the playground.
Several lone strangers walked the up and down gravel path past the hill in Amity Park, giving the shadow underneath one of the park's oversized trees the once-over before going on their apathetic way.
It had been nicknamed 'Green-Skin Hill' from elementry school. Once you were done skidding down the hill with your bare knees, the fresh lush grass would stain your skin for weeks.
To have those happy-go-lucky days back…before shots…before testing….
The shadow adjusted her faux-leather coat around her front, clasping the ends together when a cold breeze pushed it off her shoulders. She was still too tiny.
Her life had been put on standby every hour in that hospital miles away from home, now back in Amity Park, everything seemed newer, the leaves were shiner, faces were pinker. They were envy worthy, the vitality surging through their bones, she could almost see the fresh strong blood seeping their veins, maintaining life.
Her marrow failed, it needed help, and now Danny's marrow was inside her. And it was working. The doctors told her there was a chance of rejection, always be prepared for complications, but somehow they were functioning together. His marrow would not give in without a fight.
A quiet smile twitched her mouth as the Manson girl shifted her scarf to cover her mouth, the corners of her eyes crinkling when the smile broadened.
Danny would always fight.
She fixed her arms closely to herself, crossing them comfortably underneath her zipped jacket and leaned with one elbow jutting out on the bark to balance. When another gust of wind blew, her scarf flew away into the distance, the gust hit her back and she moved forward slightly only to be helped back into her original position with the aid of two warm arms enfolding around the only area open to grab.
Tremors of delight went up through her spine in currents at the weight of his secure hands touching her waist.
There was only one person who could do that to her. One of her hands freed themselves from confinement to reach up and get a handful of soft black. She murmured, not turning around in this safe hug, "Thank you by the way." Her best friend stayed silent as Sam inserted gratefully, "For everything you've done."
"I love you Sam, I don't expect anything back."
His firm arms tightened kindly, reminding her of his place in her heart, and did not go on with a further explanation, nor recognizing their friendship. Silence would hold them in their dream world of what they wanted so dearly. With the failing dying autumn painting their scenery, she let go of all self-conscious feelings to fall back, her slim body grazing against his chest.
His kiss burned tenderly into her neck.
"I love you too Danny."