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"I'm dying!" cries Tucker, barely getting out those few words before gasping air again. I grin, loving the fruits of my torture. The victim lands heavily on a nearby exercise bench, grabbing his water bottle and alternating between drinking and breathing.
"Can't have that~" I sing, and I play a new song for him: Stronger, by Kelly Clarkson (What else?). I give him one of my signature grins that is usually followed with a punch from the recipient. But Tucker can't land a punch on a dummy, let alone me.
"I hate this song," he groans.
"I hate your attitude," I snipe. "Fifty more laps!! MWAHAHA!"
"I'm dying because I ran seven!" he cries.
"Fine. I'll call in KF and he'll run with you. It'll be fun!"
He points at me, swallowing his mouthful of water. "You overestimate my pride. As unhealthy as I am, I've accepted it."
I smile, this time humorously. "Seven almost doubles your last try. Have you been following the training schedule I sent home with you?"
"I tried not to," he whines, standing again. "But Jazz wouldn't let me be lazy!" I laugh. Jazz is a hard trainer. She's so driven it borders on obsessive, and her level of determination reminds me of a younger Batman.
"I don't mean to offend, I promise, but are you not as invested as Jazz?" I don't really know how to phrase it. The look on his face tells me I did it wrong.
But instead of yelling, he gives a heavy sigh and sits back down, hands on his knees. "No, I would do anything to find my friends. I just... I feel like none of this will help. I'm waiting for something to happen. We still haven't found anything, and I- I don't know. I guess I'm just tired."
"I get it." I go to sit next to him. "I've solved hundreds of cases with Batman, many of which I personally identified with. Sometimes giving your all isn't going to help anything. Sometimes it's just out of your control." Tucker stays silent, so I decide to lighten the mood. "But somehow I doubt that'll stop Jazz."
He shakes his head, a secret smile making his way into his face. "She and Danny... They're really close."
"Dating?"
He does a complete 180, shaking his head vigorously and sputtering. "OH, no, no, no, ew no." He shakes his head once more. "The very image. No."
Surprised at his reaction, I defend, "That's usually what 'close' means..."
"No. Danny and Sam are close. The romantic way. Though they won't really admit it. But Jazz and Danny, they're... well, they're related."
"This didn't come up before," I exclaim, but my voice drops in volume.
"In terms of closeness," he elaborates, but it's almost like he's correcting himself. "Danny and Sam are close like boyfriend/girlfriend, Danny and Jazz are close like brother/sister."
"Ah." But I'm not really convinced. Jazz does act like a protective older sister about Danny. I let it drop, though. They haven't told us everything, and it's obvious that there are secrets they are trying to keep for this Phantom person. But Batman, in all his paranoia, hasn't pushed for answers, so he must not think it important or malicious. "What about Sam?"
"What about her?"
"You guys seem a lot more concerned with Danny, to be honest."
He shrugs. "They want Danny because he's a ghost. Technically, ghosts aren't allowed to be in the human world. But Sam's human. She can take care of herself. I think maybe something happened to her memory, or she's trapped in the Ghost Zone, somehow. At the very least, she's with Danny but safe."
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Touch Of The Past
FanfictionDanny's gone. Not just from Amity Park. He's gone inside his own mind. Danny Fenton/Phantom doesn't exist anymore. There is only pain and blurry images where his memories used to be. Sam's missing. Not a trace. Jazz and Tucker head to Gotham, unabl...