DP ONE-SHOT - rest

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"Come on, guys, I can handle finishing my patrol," Danny whines.

"Nope, no you won't," Sam says definitively. "You're injured and it's well past curfew." She tugs on his arm, pulling him back in her room.

Tucker's standing back with his arms crossed, amused, letting Sam deal with him. "Not the one you guys set for me." Danny halfheartedly tries prying his arm out of her grip, but it isn't worth the effort. She doesn't let up, just starts dragging him where she wants him to go.

Tucker makes a pshh sound, flapping a hand. "Semantics, semantics. You're injured, you can survive going to bed early for once in your afterlife."

"It's just a scratch!" Danny protests.

Sam rolls her eyes and says, "Yeah, a scratch with stitches in it. Get over here."

Tucker unfolds his arms and joins in the dragging-Danny procession, them dumping him on Sam's bed with just enough warning for him to shield his freshly-bandaged side from impact. An oof makes its way out of his mouth without his permission when Tucker flops himself sideways across his chest, pinning him to the bed with his stomach. Sam chuckles and adds to the pile soon after, covering his legs and propping her head up on Tuck's thighs. He's glad they were mindful of his side, but still!

Danny groans at the weight, trying to free his arms. The position's honestly not that bad; Sam's bed is soft enough that he just sinks in instead of suffocating under his two best friends, and they're pleasantly warm next to his ice core. But still... "Gamers, if I don't cover the south side, it'll bother me..."

"Probably, but you also haven't phased out from under us, so you must not be having too bad of a time," Tucker says, Danny able to feel every word he says as well as the following snicker. Danny's face heats up, and he huffs strongly enough for Tuck to feel it right back.

Sam adds on, "Also I'll get my revenge eventually, one way or another, if you try to escape this. You can't avoid me forever." She stretches to bop him on the nose, soliciting an agghg from him.

After a good few minutes of silence wherein Danny suesses out how to breathe most unobtrusively, he groans in defeat. "I hate you guys."

"Love ya too, buddy," Tucker slurs sleepily.

"Ditto." Sam then nudges him in the calf. "Now shut up and yeet yourself to dreamland already. We're tired."

"Aye aye, captain."