(What's this? Another chapter?! :O)
He was absolutely captivating. The wind blew his hair back, the moon illuminated his face. Not that Sam really needed to see it; she had already memorized every excruciating detail.
He smiled at her, green eyes flashing, and she couldn't help the large, goofy grin that spread over her own features. They dipped a little lower, towards the trees that reached out for them. The ghost boy and the goth girl. Together again.
The trees were thinning, becoming smaller. Eventually, all too soon, they left the silvery branches behind. Sam grew nervous, glancing up at Danny. It was getting closer- their midnight rendezvous. Lake Eerie shone before them in the distance, beckoning them with the promise of years to come. Years that they would spend on its banks, saying farewell to the moon and the stars before the sun stole the sky.
The silver water was fast approaching, too fast. While Sam loved seeing the lake, it was a bittersweet moment. Soon, she would have to leave.
So she asked him to go slow over the mirror-like surface. They trailed their fingertips in the cool liquid, as they did every night. Their touches created ripples that warped and disturbed the reflections of the stars, scaring away whatever creatures might dwell in the lake's depths.
Sam could feel his gaze on her, watching quietly. She looked away from the water and smiled softly at him, before they both returned their eyes to the mirror below them. Sam felt a tingle of hope, as she did every night. Maybe this time would be different.
Maybe this time, they could be together again.
She could see the water getting less deep; the bank was close ahead. She didn't want to reach the bank. She never wanted to reach the bank. It was there that... it would end.
But she couldn't stop it- here was when the dream became a nightmare.
Screaming, because he would never listen. Hearing the sand beneath her boots. Begging the scene to stop, to spare her the agony of watching it again. His hand on hers burned, but still she could not pull away from his touch.
"I love you," he whispered into her ear, each word like a knife twisting inside of her. "Nothing will be able to change that. Never."
No matter what she did, Sam couldn't stop the words that always came tumbling out of her mouth.
"You can read my mind."
Could he really? Could he hear how each time he whispered those words to her, she died a little more? Could he hear her choking on the knowledge that afflicted her? Could he hear her pleading with him not to close those beautiful eyes of his? Because once he closed those beautiful eyes... the dream would disappear.
But he did it anyway. Slowly, torturously... he blinked. In that one long second, Sam was wrenched away from his side, her hand still held up in front of her, the cool from his touch lingering on her fingertips.
She knew. It was a dream, just like all the other nights since his death. But this time... it felt different.
Her arthritic hands clawed at the sheets that had tangled around her frail body. They trembled in desperation and sorrow, longing for what could have been. Tears ran through the deep wrinkles that cut pathways around her tired, amethyst eyes. Old age hadn't come quickly to Sam Manson, but her heart still yearned for the one she had loved as a teenager.
With the moon still shining brightly outside her window, Sam shuffled over to the wardrobe. Her thick, black dressing gown hung loosely over her hunched form, showing just how old she was. She couldn't wear that to see Danny.
At the very back of the wardrobe, collecting dust, was a dirty plastic bag. Sam pulled it out and placed it on the bed, staring at it wistfully. Inside lay the clothes that she had worn with him. With Danny.
They took a bit longer to pull on this time; her fingers didn't want to cooperate. But they still fit. And somehow, that made it worse.
The graveyard where he lay was just down the street, and not by any accident on Sam's behalf. Her breath, as she limped down the road, puffed out in white, misty clouds. A 'ghost sense'. That's what she still called it. Just like he had.
The concrete footpath changed to pavement as she passed through the gates. Two stone angels, their expressions kind, watched the old woman walk between them, urging her onwards. They might have winced, if they had not been made of stone, when she stumbled slightly on the overgrown grass.
Finally, she reached his marker, reading the carved words one last time.
"I'm sorry, Danny," Sam chuckled, hating the way her voice sounded. "I didn't bring a flower this time."
Slowly, painfully, she lowered herself to the ground and leant against his gravestone. A fresh rose, from just the other day, rested beside her swollen knee. Sam picked it up and examined the petals.
"This one still looks good," she told the stone, as if confiding in her dearest friend. "It should be okay for tonight."
A gust of wind swept through the cemetery, blowing leaves into Sam's lap. Groaning, she brushed them away. The simple movement caused her to gasp for breath.
"Oh, Danny," she wheezed, closing her eyes. "Don't ever get old. It's not as fun as it looks, trust me."
Then it was silent, but for her rattling breaths. The rose had fallen out of her grasp, back onto the grass where she had found it.
You're still beautiful, Sam.
Her eyes cracked open, about all that she could do. It was enough for her to see what she had been craving all those long years.
Danny. Her Danny. Less than a foot away.
He hovered nervously by her feet, anxiously waiting for her reply.
"Huh," Sam said weakly, without energy. "You came."
While she felt herself becoming fainter, his form only grew in brightness. He grinned at her.
I never left. You just couldn't see me.
Sam tried to nod, but her head wouldn't move.
"Danny," she whispered, eyes drifting closed once more. "What will it take for us to be together again?"
Sam felt his cool hand slip into hers, as solid as it had been while he was alive. Gently, he pulled her up. Sam came willingly, easily, as if all of the troubles that came with old age had just melted away.
Open your eyes, Sam.
Stubbornly, Sam shook her head, afraid of what she might see.
Please? For me?
Sam hesitated, then carefully blinked. She was standing straight again, almost at the same height as the ghost in front of her.
"D-Danny?" She whispered. "Am I... A-are you..."
Yes, he ran a hand through her thick, black hair. As if nothing ever happened.
As if time had gone back and deposited them both where they wanted to be. As if Danny hadn't died. As if Sam had never grown old. The only clue as to what happened was the glow that surrounded not just Danny, but Sam as well.
Struck by a thought, fifteen-year-old Sam turned and looked down at her older self, slumped against the marker with her wrinkled face hidden. A cold hand slipped over the young girl's shoulders, guiding her away.
Are you ready? Danny asked once the grave vanished from sight, smiling encouragingly.
Sam nodded, and at the same time, they vanished from the mortal world.
Hey! pale-blue11 here!
This is really unexpected- I never planned for another chapter, but... well, please tell me what you think. I wrote the first part a while ago, so I'd appreciate it if someone told me if they think I've gotten better. What do you like/hate about my writing style, that sort of thing :)
Did anyone cry?
So people who follow my other one-shots will know that I shouldn't be here! I'll put more information into that story- I've already written three more chapters for it!
Anyway, you guys aren't interested in that :)
So have a nice day!