Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.



The industrial estate was deserted, apart from the two teenagers who had jumped the gate a couple of blocks back. They navigated their way through the derelict buildings, the chill of the late Autumn wind cold against their skin. There seemed to be a heavy, almost unnatural weight in the air that night, as the scrawny, dark haired boy led the goth girl to their destination with practiced ease.

"Is this the place?" Sam asked, as they entered the grey, derelict warehouse.

"Yeah." Danny replied. "It's perfect, isn't it?" He beamed. "I couldn't think of a better place to die. It'll be weeks before they discover our bodies."

The Goth's eye twitched as she noticed the various insects scuttling across the cracked cement floor, in an attempt to escape from the pale moonlight entering through the open door. She would never figure out why Danny adored this place. She for one could think of multiple, far more dignified places to carry out their suicide than a glorified cardboard box. It was degrading, almost.

"I can't believe we're finally going to do this." Danny grinned widely in anticipation, in an almost maniacal fashion that Sam would have found disturbing mere weeks ago, as he handed her one of twin silver guns.

Sam opened the revolver, checking that the reloads she had inserted were still as she had left them short hours ago.

Five bullets. She thought idly, as unexpected fear began to overwhelm her entire being. Five chances to die. Although it was highly unlikely she would need more than one to finish the job. It was remarkable, the frailty of the human body. The five tiny pieces of metal loaded into the gun she held in her hands would be sufficient to take five lives.

"I feel kind of bad about stealing the guns from Valerie's dad." Danny's brow furrowed, as if the notion had just occurred to him. "We should have left him a note."

"It's too late now." Sam shrugged. She had never liked Valerie anyway. She wasn't going to start now, moments prior to her death. "Besides, it's best that we didn't tell anyone what we were planning."

"You're right." Danny agreed, playing with the safety of the weapon with unconcealed glee.

They sat in silence for what seemed to Sam like forever, as she shut her eyes and attempted to gather her final thoughts. The sporadic clacking of Danny fiddling with his gun the was only sound in the vast empty building, the crushing weight of the old, musty air surrounding them.

"Are you ready?" Danny asked, rising to his feet.

"I don't know if I can do this." The Goth admitted, weighing the Smith and Wesson in her hand. Sam never thought that guns would be this heavy. Then again, she had never thought that when this moment finally arrived, she would be afraid.

Sam wasn't sure if she could bear to meet Danny's gaze, to see the look of disbelief etched on her lover's face.

If Sam succumbed to her fear now, she would be letting Danny down. Today was the day that she had looked forward to for the past fortnight. She wasn't about to let petty fears ruin it for both her and Danny.

"Forget what I just said." She shook her head, rising to join him. "I was being stupid."

Danny tensed, as the wail of sirens abruptly pierced the night air.

"They've found us already." The Goth whispered, unsure if she should feel panicked, or immensely relieved.

"We have to do it now." Danny burst out, his eyes wild. "They're coming for us. If we don't do it now, they'll separate us, take our guns away, and we'll never be able to hurt ourselves again." His voice rose in pitch with every syllable he uttered, desperation evident.

For a single, chilling moment, Sam was certain that he was going to shoot her himself.

Her lover suddenly slumped, as though defeated. "If they take us away, I'll never see you again." His voice broke. "I need you, Sam."

"You're never going to see me again anyway." Sam replied dryly.

"Of course we'll see each other again." Danny insisted, as though it was an incontrovertible fact.

Sam shrugged, still not convinced.

"Do you love me?" Danny asked, unsure, doubt apparent in his eyes.

Sam looked down, cradling her wrist where "DANNY" had been carved into her flesh in messy block writing. The stings of the gash were still fresh, and Sam took comfort in the hurt.

Suddenly, the wound seemed ugly to her. Why had she ever allowed him to mark her like that? Sam didn't belong to anyone but herself. But she supposed it was unimportant. Especially since this body would soon be nothing but a pile of putrid decomposing flesh. Danny was the only thing she cared about, and that was all that mattered.

God she loved the pain. Then why was she so unsure about taking this final step?

"I love you." Sam replied, some of her doubt ebbing.

The Goth couldn't figure out why she was so afraid. She had never had anything to live for. Sam had always hated her life. She hated her parents, her school, and the superficiality they worshiped. She despised the entire world. It made no sense that she was suddenly so desperate to cling to her last remaining moments in it.

"I love you too." Danny's face broke into a huge, lopsided grin as the uncertainty that had previously clouded his eyes evaporated. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Sam." He declared, with sincerity that made Sam's heart bleed.

"Let's do this before I lose my nerve." Sam said, her absolution firm in her mind. She would not abandon him now.

"On the count of three?" He asked, unable to keep the unbridled excitement from entering his voice, as he raised the barrel of the gun to his temple.

"On the count of three." Sam affirmed, hands shaking as she mirrored his actions. She was on the brink of hysteria as Danny's eager gaze entered her line of vision.

"One." Danny began, and Sam could feel the clamminess out of her palms intensifying.

The Goth wasn't sure if she would even be able to keep her grip on the trigger long enough to pull it. At least Danny would be the last thing she would ever see before the bullet embedded itself into her skull. No matter how much she hated her life, she wanted her final memory to be a good one.


The goth took a deep breath, knowing it would be one of her last.

In all honesty, Sam knew she didn't want to die. But she had promised Danny a double suicide. That she would die with him. After all, Danny was the only thing that was important to her. If he died, there would be nothing left in this world that she didn't hate. She could either die right now, or old and alone in unnumbered years' time, hating herself and regretting the fact that she hadn't died tonight.

Sam closed her eyes, preparing herself to pull the trigger, to empty the single bullet into her brain that would forever put an end to her existence as she violently quelled her remaining doubts.

But was this truly what she wanted?


Only one shot was fired.

Author's Notes: Sorry that I haven't uploaded anything in absolute ages, but I've been busy with exams. But now that they're finally over, you can expect a lot more writing from me. I know I shouldn't be starting new fics, but I'm still somewhat disillusioned by the fact that if I start them, I'll actually get around to finishing them. Metanoia and Anathema's Abode have updates coming up very shortly, so please stick around for those.

This fic isn't depressing for the sake of being depressing. There's a twist to it, but you're not going to find out until later chapters:D

If you've enjoyed the prologue of Chasm, please leave a review, I really do appreciate them!

Hugs and kisses