[Third Person's PoV]
Sam and Tucker strolled down the school hallway, heading in the direction of Jazz, who stood by her locker seemingly lost in a world of her own thoughts. Her brow was furrowed and she didn't even seem to notice them until they were only a few feet away.
"Hey, Jazz," Sam greeted casually, eyeing her curiously. "Where's Danny? He didn't show up to first period."
Jazz blinked, clearly startled from whatever mental loop she had been trapped in. She shut her locker with a soft thud and turned to face them. "Huh? Oh—Danny…" she trailed off for a moment before composing herself. "He's not feeling well. He stayed home today."
Sam's expression shifted into concern. "Not feeling well? Is he sick?"
Jazz looked slightly uncomfortable, glancing away and fiddling with the strap of her backpack. "Well… not exactly. I mean, I wouldn't say he's sick, sick. He's just… not feeling great, I guess."
Tucker raised an eyebrow. "That's not exactly reassuring."
"Yeah," Sam added, crossing her arms. "That's pretty vague, Jazz."
"I know, I just—he's dealing with something. That's all I can really say right now." Jazz offered them a faint, forced smile. "Anyway, I don't want to be late. I'll see you guys later, okay?"
She turned on her heel and walked off quickly, disappearing into the crowd of students flooding the halls.
Sam and Tucker watched her go, both clearly perplexed.
"That was weird," Tucker muttered, glancing sideways at Sam. "Did that sound normal to you?"
Sam shook her head. "Not even close."
"What was that about?" he asked aloud.
Sam hesitated, then leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you think it could be… some kind of ghost virus?"
Tucker gave her a skeptical look. "Ghost virus? Are you serious?"
"Think about it," Sam said insistently. "What if it's something that only affects ghosts? Maybe Danny's going through something his human side doesn't understand—and neither does Jazz."
Tucker opened his mouth to argue but paused. The logic wasn't totally off. He scratched the back of his neck. "Okay… now you've got me worried."
Sam threw her hands up. "What? I was just throwing out a possibility!"
The bell rang, signaling that class was about to start. Students hurried past them toward their respective classrooms. The hallway rapidly emptied, leaving the two of them standing in the growing silence.
Tucker looked around, then back at Sam. "Should we… I don't know, go check on him?"
Sam hesitated for a second, her lips pressed in a thin line. "Yeah. I mean, I know we're not supposed to ditch but—this feels serious. I'd rather get in trouble for skipping than regret not going when we had the chance."
Without another word, the two of them turned on their heels and quickly slipped out of the school through a side exit. They sprinted down the familiar streets, weaving between pedestrians and dodging traffic until they reached the Fenton household.
…
They quietly made their way to the backyard and approached the side of the house, where they often used to sneak into Danny's room. Sam climbed first, her movements practiced and sure, while Tucker followed behind—much less gracefully.
As Sam reached Danny's window, she froze.
Her eyes widened.
"Danny?" she whispered at first, but her voice rose quickly in alarm. "Danny!"
Inside, Danny lay curled on the floor beside his bed, clutching his chest. His breathing was ragged and uneven, his eyes wild and unfocused. He looked pale—sweating and trembling.
Sam yanked open the window without hesitation and vaulted inside, landing beside him.
Tucker, puffing and sweating, hauled himself up just in time to see Sam kneeling at Danny's side.
"Sam? What's going on—?" he asked, struggling to climb through the window. He awkwardly flopped into the room, grunting as he hit the floor, then scrambled toward them.
But Danny didn't seem to notice either of them. His eyes were locked on something that wasn't there—something internal. His breathing came in harsh, stuttering gasps, like he was on the verge of passing out.
Inside his mind, everything was chaos.
'A month. I only have a month before the spell becomes permanent… before this becomes my life—my reality. I have to choose between my family or the entire world. If I don't stop this, Batman will remain dead, there won't be a Justice League. Without them, there's no defense against world ending threats.'
His arms tightened around himself, body trembling.
'If I choose the world… I lose Mom. Dad. Jazz. I'd be killing them all over again… I can't… I can't do that.'
'Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?'
Each breath grew sharper, more erratic. A high-pitched wheeze left his throat as his lungs threatened to give out.
Sam's panic surged. She gripped Danny's shoulders and shook him slightly. "Danny! Danny, look at me!"
No response.
Without thinking, acting purely on instinct and desperation, she drew her hand back and slapped him across the face.
The sound cracked through the air like a whip, silencing everything for a moment.
Tucker froze in stunned disbelief.
Sam gasped, cradling her now-stinging hand. "Ow…"
Danny blinked, his hand slowly rising to touch the red mark forming on his cheek. He stared at Sam, his chest slowly rising and falling as he momentarily forgot all what he was thinking and the only thing on his mind was the pain and heat across his cheek.
"Ow!" Danny shouted, still clutching his cheek. "What the hell was that for?!"
Sam, blowing on her hand and wincing from the sting, shot him an incredulous look. "You know what that was for! You were having a full-blown panic attack."
"So your bright idea was to slap me?!" Danny exclaimed, his voice rising as he stared at her like she'd completely lost it. "Who slaps someone during a panic attack?!"
"Me!" Sam snapped, gesturing to herself. "And hey—it worked, didn't it?"
Danny blinked, his chest still rising and falling quickly, though more steadily now. His eyes were glassy with leftover tears, and he winced again. "Okay, sure, it worked. But did you have to hit me that hard? My face is still ringing!"
"Well, yeah!" Sam huffed, standing and flicking her sore wrist again. "It's supposed to hurt. That's the point. The shock pulls your brain out of whatever you were thinking about."
Danny groaned, letting his head fall back briefly before Tucker knelt beside him. Together, the two helped him off the floor. Danny swayed slightly as he stood, still visibly shaken, but stable enough.
As Danny looked from Sam to Tucker, confusion finally settled across his face. "Wait… what are you guys doing here? Shouldn't you still be in school?"
"Jazz told us you weren't feeling well," Tucker replied. "You know, vague and suspicious—so we got worried."
Sam added, "So we escaped school and came over to check on you. That's when we found you on the floor, gasping like you were dying."
The two stared at him, concern written plainly across their faces.
"Mind telling us what that was all about?" Sam asked gently.
"Yeah, dude. That didn't look like a normal panic. You okay?" Tucker followed up, his usual humor gone for once.
Danny opened his mouth—almost spoke the truth—but then faltered. The words got caught in his throat. The weight of it all came crashing down again, and he looked away, jaw tight.
"I'm sorry… I can't tell you," he said quietly.
"What?" Sam blinked. "Why not?"
"I just… can't," Danny murmured, his voice low with frustration. "I want to, I do… but this isn't something I can share."
Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance. It wasn't like Danny to shut them out. They'd fought together side by side, risked their lives—hell, they'd almost been turned into ectoplasm more than once. They were a team.
Sam folded her arms, visibly hurt. "You know, after everything we've been through, I thought you trusted us more than that."
Tucker exhaled and tried to break the tension with a weak chuckle. "Well, at least you're not infected by some ghost virus."
Danny looked up sharply, his expression suddenly alert. "Wait. What did you just say?"
"Huh?" Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Oh. That? It's just something Sam made up. When Jazz said you weren't feeling well, she panicked and started thinking maybe you'd caught, I don't know, a ghost-specific virus or something. It was dumb."
"Ghost virus…" Danny echoed slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Why… why would I be infected with a ghost virus?"
"Because Jazz said you weren't feeling well?" Sam offered, tilting her head.
"No, not that," Danny said, staring between them. "Why assume it's a ghost virus and not just a regular one?"
Tucker raised a brow. "Because… you're half ghost now? Like, do normal viruses even affect you anymore? Or is your biology just… ghost weirdness now?"
Danny's mouth slowly opened, his eyes growing wide. A shiver of realization crept up his spine.
"You guys… you know. You know about my ghost powers."
Sam gave him the most unimpressed look imaginable. "Well, duh. We were there when it happened, remember? You stepped into your parents' freaky ghost portal, got zapped, and woke up glowing. Pretty unforgettable."
Danny's jaw dropped. He just stared at them, speechless.
'This… This is just like in the show. I haven't even used my powers yet. But if Sam remembers that… then my transformation must've gone exactly the same way. Just like it did in the show!'
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