I'm taking my first sick day in like a year but I wrote a thing, so. Have an AU.

in a world of

September 19, 2016

Tucker kicked up his feet on the empty desk in front of him and stretched out, putting his hands behind his head and staring back at Sam upside down.

"So," he drawled.

Sam heaved a long suffering sigh before glancing over at him. He stared at her unblinking until she finally caved. "Fine," she muttered under her breath before asking him "what?"

Tucker grinned and sat back up again. "So," he repeated, drawing out the word.

Sam rolled her eyes. "So?" she parroted back at him.

"So," Tucker said, pursing his lips and crossing his arms. "Imaginary friends."

"What?" Sam asked.

"You know, imaginary friends?"

She stared at him warily.

"What do you think about 'em? Ever have one growing up?"

She stared at him for another moment before saying, "This is stupid," and turning back to her notebook.

"Nah," Tucker said, "detention is stupid," he corrected. "And I'm bored," he said, flopping over his desk with a groan. "So tell me about your imaginary friends."

"No," she said, trying to shut down the entire topic of conversation.

Tucker grinned mischievously. "Everyone had one growing up. So lemme guess... yours was… a black vampire bat sidekick of death and doom who took out your worst enemies on demand and ate your homework, digesting it into a shadow realm causing it to never have existed in the first place!"

Sam briefly closed her eyes, wondering once again why she put up with this kid.

"No," she said again, trying to infuse as much apathy as possible into her voice.

"Aww, but what else are we gonna talk about?" Tucker whined. "We already finished our homework!"

"I already finished my homework," Sam pointedly corrected. "You on the other hand…"

Tucker made a dismissive noise and slouched down in his desk chair. "So," he mused, completely ignoring the homework issue. "It wasn't a black vampire bat who did your bidding and ate your homework out of existence…"

"Tucker…" Sam warned.

"Was it Mr. Fluffles the teddy bear who drinks tea with his cookies instead of apple juice?" he asked with a grin. "How about a seven foot tall unicorn with a fluffy pink mane and rainbow glitter coming out of its horn when he took Princess Samantha on magical adventures?"

Sam was already half out of her chair, ready to throttle him when Lancer coughed and looked at them from over the top of his stack of papers. "Miss Manson. Mr. Foley," he shouted from across the room and they both froze.

"Is there a problem?" he asked slowly, gaze promising a fate worse than death if the answer was 'yes.'

"No, Mr. Lancer," they chorused in unison, Sam slowly climbing back into her desk chair as Tucker resumed his position next to her.

"Very good, then." He looked at them for another minute before turning back to his papers, writing a grade in red pen and shuffling it to the other side of his desk as he reached for the next work page.

Tucker was quiet for about three minutes. Then he looked over with a grin that made Sam want to face plant straight into the desk before she'd even heard what he was going to say.

"So I guess it really was the unicorn, huh?" he said.

"Tucker," Sam ground out.

"Yeah?" he asked, cheerfully oblivious as to his impending doom.

But then Lancer glanced at them again and Sam sighed, knowing she couldn't forcibly make Tucker stop in full view of their teacher.

She clenched her jaw. "If I tell you, will you stop?"

"Of course!" he promised, with a bright smile.

Sam sighed. "Fine. I did have one imaginary friend growing up."

Tucker fist pumped. "I knew it!"

She glared at him and he quieted down immediately, turning his full attention to her and, for once, actually looking serious.

"Sorry," he said. "Please, continue."

"Okay," Sam said, although now that he was waiting, she wasn't entirely sure what to say. "Well, I was probably four or five," she began, and Tucker nodded earnestly.

"And his name was Danny."

"Heh," Tucker said.

Sam whirled around, all indignation. "What?" she demanded, tone quickly taking on a dark edge. "You think it's funny?" she spat, eyes glinting. "You're the one who asked. Plenty of people have-"

"Nah," he waved his hands, trying to assuage her unjustified anger before it really took hold. "I know that. It's just that… I had an imaginary friend named Danny too," he said. "But he was actually a ghost, so. Well…" he trailed off with a new thought.

"A half ghost," Sam corrected breathlessly.

"Yeah," Tucker agreed easily, "but…"

She unfroze and leaned over the space between their desks, quickly asking, "Tight black suit? Crazy white hair?"

Tucker blinked at her for a moment, wondering how she could possibly know that. Then he threw his hands up in the air. "Oh come on, no fair!" he shouted toward the ceiling.

Sam didn't quite know how to respond to that. "I…" she started before Tucker cut her off again.

"You mean my first friend was an imaginary ghost and now my first real friend is a psychic? What is this?"

Sam blinked, now having no clue what he was talking about. "What?" she finally asked, face scrunched up in confusion.

"You're reading my mind!" Tucker exclaimed, hands waving around his head. "When did you obtain this power?" he asked. "Have you been staring into my innermost thoughts this entire time? Quick," he said, leaning down until his head was nearly touching her desk, "who do I have a crush on?"

Sam pulled back, trying to escape the invasion of her personal space. "I don't-"

"Wait, no!" Tucker exclaimed, whipping his head back up and covering his face with his hands like it could shield him from her powers. "I don't want you looking for that. Okay, okay," he said, looking out from between his fingers, "what's my favorite food?"

Sam shook her head, but Tucker kept staring at her. "Come on, what's my favorite food?" he asked again, waving his hands in a frantic give-it-to-me motion.

"… meat," she eventually said with a huff, hoping the obvious generic answer would shut him up.

Instead, his eyes went wide. "Yes!" he said, like he couldn't believe it. Like everyone who had ever known him for more than a day couldn't have given him the answer to that particular question. "Oh you're good," he gasped. "Okay, what number am I thinking-"

"No, Tucker!" Sam said, getting fed up with this useless sidetrack.

"What?"

"I'm not reading your mind," she said.

He squinted at her. "But…"

"I'm not-" she blurted out before continuing very slowly, "reading your mind. I have never read your mind. I cannot read minds, okay?"

"Sure you can," he countered. "How else could you have known about Danny?"

"Because I'm telling you that I had an imaginary friend named Danny too," she said

"… that was half ghost?" Tucker asked skeptically.

"Yes," Sam said, "that's exactly what I'm tell you."

Tucker blinked. "Wait," he said, then paused as he tried to process that. "Wait, so…?"

Sam took a deep breath and leaned forward, hands folded together. "Look, my Danny had glowing green eyes and white gloves and boots. Did yours?"

"Yeah…" he said, leaning forward too.

"And he was the son of like… scientists?" she asked again.

"Inventors," Tucker supplied.

"Yeah," Sam nodded meaningfully.

"And one of their inventions was a portal to like, the land of the ghosts," Tucker said, picking up where she left off, increasing in speed as he went. "But it didn't work at first because it wasn't finished…"

"But then Danny tried to fix it and got in an accident," Sam broke in, getting even faster in her excitement.

"And it zapped him and that's how he became a ghost!" Tucker exclaimed.

"Half ghost," Sam belatedly corrected after a moment.

"Right," Tucker said.

Their heavy breathing was the only thing that broke the silence for a long time.

"Right, but... but that's not possible," Tucker said, laughing nervously for a second. "Like… like, how could we both…?" he asked, hands moving like he couldn't decide what to do with them.

"Unless…" Sam whispered very slowly, "he wasn't an imaginary friend."

Tucker stared at her, mind whirring as he tried to understand what she was actually saying, because she couldn't be saying what he thought she was saying. "But… but that means…"

"… That he was real?" Sam asked, a smile ghosting over her lips

"Yeah," he said, swallowing heavily.

"… That ghosts are real?" Sam pressed on, eyes shining.

Tucker covered his face with his hands. "Oh man," he said. Dragged his hands up and down his face. "Oh man."