"Alright, so you can regrow limbs…" Sam stated in utter shock, looking down at Danny's newly formed arm with a mild look of awe and disturbance - he couldn't really blame her, he'd be freaked out, too, if she had suddenly regrown a limb.

"Dude! You're like a starfish!" Tucker exclaimed, grinning widely as he brought up an article about them on his PDA with a few taps, smirking proudly to himself as he thrust the device in Danny's face, making him recoil and blink in confusion. Sam promptly elbowed the techno geek in the side, met with a sharp 'hey!' in response.

"Okay, you can regenerate. But that doesn't explain how the scars are still there," Sam scrutinized, narrowing her eyes as he glanced over the new arm - it was slightly more pale than the other, like when you would take off a band-aid and there'd be gross untouched skin under it. (The thought made Danny shudder - he hated that.) Across the length of his arm, however, much like the rest of his body, it was still marred with small and large scars alike, some already fading to white, others a dark contrasting red that shown starkly against his skin.

Danny, however, found himself with a green blush dusting his cheeks as a hand reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck nervously as he thought of how to explain just how they were still there when everything else had healed within a period of a week.

"Uh, well," He started, eyes flickering between Sam and Tucker anxiously before he continued, "Scars are… They're emotional," he blurted.

"Emotional?" Tucker questioned, cocking his head to the side, his beret nearly falling off his head.

"Each scar has emotional value in it," he explained, diverting his gaze to his boots. "You don't just… forget something that leaves a mark on you. Neither does your body. I mean… Some of them are faded, see?" He gestured to some of various little white nicks scattered across his arm.

"The, uh, more damaging ones, they're kind of…" He paused, biting his lip before his hand hesitantly reached up to the neck of his HAZMAT suit, a finger hooked behind the material as he paused, looking at the two before him with a somewhat ashamed look before he lowered it, revealing a rather large scar that seemed to stretch from the lower portion of his throat to his right shoulder blade before trailing off, an angry pink red that shown easily.

As expected, Sam and Tucker visibly cringed and grimaced, each respectively, at the sight of the scar that had remained. It wasn't unfamiliar, which, in a way, made things even worse, in their eyes.

"That's the one Valerie gave you," Tucker blurted out, though he quickly realized what he'd said and drew back at the angry glare that Sam threw him before she turned back to Danny with concern and a strange guilt to her expression.

"Danny, I-"

"Don't," he cut her off, almost violently tugging his suit up to cover up the wound once more. He'd grown tense at the mention, and hearing his friend try to console him only made it worse. He knew she felt guilty for not having stepped into the line of fire, but that was exactly what he was trying to prevent.

He just wished it hadn't been Valerie.

The stood there for several long moments as they all gathered themselves, Sam looking at the clock that adorned the wall, Tucker staring blankly at the black screen of his PDA, and Danny at the concrete beneath them.

"Hey, my mom's making meatloaf tonight," Tucker suddenly spoke up, his voice only wavering a little, to his credit. "You guys wanna come over?"

"Sure, anything to escape my parents," Sam snorted, a look of contempt on her face. Danny simply nodded, following after them as they exited the old warehouse in favor for Tucker's home, the halfa listening to his best friends begin to argue over the benefits of their diets.