Ghosts don't need eyes.

It was one of the many fundamental facts about himself that sent chills up his arm if he pondered it too long. All in all, it was better for Danny to just accept his quirk with stride lest he succumb to another existential crisis.

Once upon a time, it was jarring being able to see with his eyelids shut in ghost form, but his brain had long adjusted to the sensation. When he slipped back into human form, which often felt like he was shimmying into a false skin with foreign organs and a beating heart that was not his own, it was difficult to familiarize himself with regular vision. He'd never before realized how many times a day he blinked and found himself wondering how humans could stand having such poor vision all the time.

Once he made the mistake of verbalizing such thoughts in front of Sam and Tucker and Tucker had taken his glasses off and stared straight at Danny's chin. "Wow. I wonder how it feels to see perfectly."

After that, he kept his sentiments about his vision to himself. Though Sam did ask about how it felt being able to see through his own eyelids and through solid matter itself but he didn't really know how to describe it to her. It wasn't something that could be explained in human words. Ghosts had plenty of words to describe how three-dimensional space paled in comparison to four-dimensional that space curved around them. There were even more words to describe the soft, ultraviolet hues that wrapped around anything and everything. He knew that Sam would understand those even less, but he tried.

In his explanation he slipped in and out of ghost speak and he could tell that it was simply not sinking in. She thanked him for trying and mentioned off-handedly that she'd like to see what his world looked like one day. Perhaps she wasn't thinking, but the idea that Sam wanted to become a ghost unsettled him. His existence was something that no one should want, yet, his convoluted descriptions enamored her so that she wasn't opposed to the idea. By the time he drew the courage to tell her that, Sam cut him off with a good-natured laugh and walked away.

Human vision was far inferior to his vision as a ghost, but he'd give it all up if he could truly breathe again. When he pulled air into his lungs, all he felt was hollow. He didn't speak on it much but Sam needed to understand that for every upside to being a ghost there was an equal downside. After all, death was no stranger to equivalent exchange.

The next time he caught her alone, they were on the roof at school. He'd just captured Skulker for the umpteenth time and Sam had tagged along for the pursuit. Still, in ghost form, he laid down on the grimy, concrete platform and raised an arm to the sky. He wanted to believe that he could run his gloved fingers through the colors… unbelievable colors. A sly smile curled around Sam's lips and she joined him, her fingers brushing against the edges of his semi-corporeal body. He couldn't say how long they laid there in silence, gazing up into the afternoon sky like it was the most marvelous thing they'd ever seen. It was an ordinary sky, nothing special to behold, save a few lopsided clouds.

"What you said yesterday…" he started, tentatively. "You didn't mean it, did you?"

Her violet eyes cut from the sky to Danny, but he gave no indication he'd seen.

"What did I say?"

"That you hoped one day you could see the colors I see."

She hummed non-committedly. "It would be nice."

"To be a ghost? Is that what you think? That this is nice?"

Neither spoke for a half-a-minute or so but Danny could tell by the way her brows scrunched that he'd made it awkward.

When Sam did speak, it was a little over a whisper. "I didn't mean it like that. I just… I just meant the colors and space, not the… yeah."

"Oh."

"You don't have to worry about me, Danny. I might talk tough, but death is the farthest thing from my mind. Sorry if I seemed a bit... eager."

"No, no. It wasn't you—I took it the wrong way. I was just dumb."

Now she seemed offended.

"You're not dumb. I wasn't thinking when I said what I said."

"You said just last week that I was the dumbest guy on the planet."

"You've got me there. How about we're both dumbasses?"

She linked her fingers with his and he was suddenly aware of how warm she was. Were all human bodies that warm?

"I'll accept that," he said.

With that, they fell back into silence relishing the soft touch of each other's hands. There were several times Danny thought he heard Sam start to say something and stop and finally she did.

"Shut your eyes."

It was a sudden and strange request, yet he did as she asked. Danny scrunched them shut and watched through his eyelids as Sam leaned over to plant a kiss squarely on his jaw. He could feel her tepid breath against his skin and it reminded him once again how much more alive she was. By the time she pulled away, he was almost inclined to reach out to her. The peck on his jawline wasn't nearly enough, he wanted her to breathe more life into him, to ease the cold pit opposite his near-stilled heart. He wanted to run his fingers through her sleek, black-hair, and for her to do the same. He wanted her to wrap her arms around him in a tight, intimate embrace until he stopped feeling numb. He wanted to lose himself to Sam Manson.

With that in mind, all he could bring himself to say was:

"You know, ghosts don't need eyes."

Danny almost felt himself melt under her light-hearted gaze. "Trust me, I know."