Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Notes: It's been a while! The 10th anniversary of the show is coming up, so I've been thinking of working on fanfiction lately. I finally got around to writing another chapter of this, so enjoy.

"Ghost Town"
Chapter 3

"You're gonna have to get it eventually."

The smug look on Tucker's face drove Sam nuts. They had sat in silence for what felt like an immesurarable amount of time: maybe a handful minutes, maybe an hour or so - long enough that Sam had finally caught her breath from her sprint to the car, but short enough that the A/C hadn't dried the thin layer of sweat clinging to her skin. She twisted the cap off of the plastic bottle in her hands and took a swig of water, lukewarm from sitting in the car for several hours.

"Like, you've got your camera and everything in there," he said. "All of that gear's gonna go to waste. Because you're scared. You're scared and I was right about this whole thing."

Sam finished the last of the water. She clenched her fingers around the empty bottle, which crackled loudly, sharply, in a sound that reminded her of bones snapping, of necks breaking beneath the vice of a thick rope. In spite of herself, she nearly shuddered. "Oh, shut up," she said, shooting a very pointed glare at him. "I'm not scared."

"Right," Tucker said. "You didn't drop your stuff and run to the car, screaming, 'Holy shit,' either."

"I was surprised! Not scared! There's a difference!"

"Then why aren't you going back for your backpack?"

"Because I. . . don't feel like it," Sam said, looking out the window and into the darkening direction of the cemetery, through the abandoned town.

"Uh huh." Tuck grinned. "I was totally right."

"No way!"

"Yes way!"

"Augh! You're so annoying sometimes!" Sam shoved the car door open and got out. "If I die or get possessed or get sucked into a portal to Hell or something, you're totally responsible. Just so you know." She slammed the door shut before Tucker could respond and stormed off in the direction of the cemetery.

Run in, grab the bag, run out, she thought, and you'll be fine.

Run in, grab bag, run out. Ghosts aren't scary. Phantom isn't scary.

Run in, grab bag, run out. Show Tucker he's all wrong about you and about this trip.

Run in, grab bag, run out. This is a mantra now. Real uplifting.

Run in, grab bag, run out. I feel like there are eyes in every one of these windows. They're staring at me. Except they're not, because I'm being stupid and paranoid.

Run in, grab bag, run out. Shit, there it is. No one. Thank god.

Run in, into the fire, out of the frying pan. Too late to turn back.

Grab the bag, which is inevitably sitting on someone's - maybe his? - grave. Damn. Don't think about that. I've got it. Tucker can't say anything now.

Run out, as fast as I ran before, because I know this dead boy's watching me with eyes as bright as a neon sign, from wherever he's hiding. Run out past the dead eyes watching you in the town. Run out until the car's in sight. Walk up to Tucker like it was nothing.

"That was nothing," Sam said, striding up to the car, nonchalantly. She opened the door and got in, tossing her backpack into the back seat.

"See anything?" Tucker asked.

"Nope. Just grabbed my stuff and left," Sam said, feeling extremely pleased with herself, albeit a little shaky.

"Hm." Tucker seemed a little crestfallen that he lost his end of the argument, but flashed a smile, anyway. "Can we get the hell out of here now?"

"Yep! I'm beat," Sam said. "Once we hit civilization, we should hit up a drive thru for food."

"Oh, there are ultra-recylco fast food places now? . . . Ew," Tucker asked, starting the ignition. He laughed.

"Ha ha, very funny," Sam said. "I wish. Anyway, salads work." She pulled the car vizor down and fixed her hair in the mirror. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw a flash of green in the back seat. She shivered, half-heartedly looking for it again. She saw only the receding outline of the ghost town of Amity fading into the blackness of night as they sped away. And, by the time they were sitting beneath the flourescent lights of the Tasty Taco parking lot, eating cheeseless black bean tacos with extra lettuce and triple meat burritos (respectively), Amity was more distant in their minds than in the miles they had put between it and them.

Somewhere between Tasty Taco and campus, Sam fell asleep and betrayed herself by dreaming of a town like Amity used to be, but better. A great place to live. She dreamt of someone like Phantom used to be, but alive. A real person - just someone named Danny, without scars around his neck or green eyes burning like dying stars. Sam couldn't remember everything when she woke up, but she knew that, in her dream, she and Danny were friends. It wasn't a sad dream, but that didn't stop the gnawing feeling that Sam felt in her chest from lingering.