Chapter Text
Danny felt weak as his eyes opened to his alarm blaring in his ear. He slammed his fist down on the clock and groaned. He didn’t want to get out of bed, wishing he could just stay in place and lose track of time, staring at the ceiling for hours and having it feel like mere seconds. That sounded like heaven compared to the hell waiting just outside his door. Danny sighed and rolled onto his side. He groaned as the door opened, and he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. He felt a dip in his bed, and it made him tense slightly.
“Dani? Sweety, it's time to wake up,” Maddie spoke gently. Danny huffed. His parents seemed to only acknowledge his existence at the worst times.
“I know,” he muttered. “I don't feel well.”
“You can't miss school anymore. We could get in trouble, taken to court,” Maddie explained. Danny only curled up further into his blankets. He felt his skin crawl as his mother placed a hand on his arm, moving a bit too close to his shoulder. Danny quickly sat up and sighed.
“I'm getting ready,” he said. “But I'm not eating anything.”
Maddie sighed and left without a word. Danny hated it when she pretended to care. He slowly forced himself out of bed and got dressed for school. His movements were sluggish, lacking the energy to move any quicker. He dragged as he moved to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and fixing his hair. He returned to his room only to grab his bag and keys. He slowly moved down the stairs and walked past his parents silently. None of them acknowledged the others’ presence.
Danny left the house, closing the door silently so he would go unnoticed. He held the strap of his bag tightly as he started walking. His body swayed with each step, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. He didn’t stop moving until he heard two beeps of a car horn. He looked back, seeing Tucker's car slowly approaching. Tucker stopped just beside Danny.
“Need a ride?” He asked jokingly, already knowing the answer. Danny nodded and quickly slipped into the passenger’s seat. He leaned back and yawned, closing his eyes as he tried to get a little more sleep before he was forced to face Casper High School. He dozed off to the sound of Tucker humming along with the radio, a sound much better than his singing. His head lulled to the side, resting against the window, the car’s soft vibrations pulling him into a deeper state of sleep.
As Tucker parked his car, he took one hand off the wheel to gently shake his friend awake. Danny jolted, quickly sitting up with a ragged breath. Tucker quickly retracted his head and frowned.
“You okay?” he asked. Danny swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded his head. He sighed as he unbuckled his seat belt. “Maybe you should stay here for a little while?” Tucker suggested.
“I can’t miss any more of Mr. Lancer’s class. He’ll call my parents if I do,” Danny muttered.
“I can tell him you’re here, you just need to take care of something urgent,” Tucker offered.
“Like what?”
Tucker pointed to Danny’s sleeved shoulders, referring to the many scars he had on them. “You’ve been hurt. The scars will make it easy to pass it off as the truth.”
Danny winced. “I don’t know how good an idea it would be to use these as an excuse. What if he thinks they’re something else?” And they were. Tucker and Sam had no idea where the scars came from—assuming they were from Danny’s many battles with ghosts—all they knew was that they existed, that it was something Danny would live with forever.
“He won’t. Just get some rest,” Tucker said. He grabbed his bag and got out of the car, leaving Danny alone. Danny sighed and moved to the back seat, where he could lie down without being seen. He rested his head against the car seat, trying his best to get comfortable in the cramped space that allowed him no leg room. Still, it was better than nothing, than being awoken in the middle of class by Lancer’s yelling about the importance of staying awake in class and paying attention to the material if he didn’t want to end up with a dead-end job like Nasty Burger. Danny huffed as he closed his eyes, struggling to fall asleep without the aid of Tucker’s humming or the car’s soft rumbling.
Danny yawned softly as he sat up, unsure of how long he had been there. He looked outside, seeing that the sun was only slightly higher than it was when he had lain down to rest. He sighed and got out of the car. He pulled his bag out of the passenger seat and reluctantly walked into the school, not bothering to check in at the front office. He looked at one of the few clocks that were hung up in the hall. First period wouldn’t end for another half-hour, which meant he had to go to Lancer’s class. Danny groaned and turned on his heel to walk to his class. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door, waiting to be let in. Lancer opened the door.
“Late again, Daniel?” he said. “What’s your excuse this time?”
“Didn’t Tucker tell you?” Danny gulped. He looked past Lancer, meeting Tucker’s nervous gaze.
“No. Where were you?” Lancer asked. Danny sighed and gripped his arm, slowly pushing his sleeve up to reveal the many scars tracing his skin, praying no one in the classroom could see it.
“There was an emergency, Sir,” he muttered. “Can I go to my seat now?”
Lancer’s eyes widened at the sight, filling with concern and a hint of pity. Danny hated it. He let his sleeve fall back into place, not wanting to feel Lancer’s gaze on his scars any longer. This was a terrible idea. He knew it was a terrible idea—why did he listen to Tucker?
Lancer turned to the class. “I will be taking Daniel to the front office. Stay in your seats and work on the assignment I passed out.”
Danny’s heart stuttered in his chest. Lancer closed the door and put his hands on the boy's back as they began walking. Danny’s shoulders tensed, and Lancer pulled his hand away.
“Daniel, care to explain?” The man asked. Danny only shook his head. “You can’t just show me something like that and not explain. You know what that looks like, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Danny muttered. “But it isn’t. I swear. I’ve just… been getting beaten a lot. You know. School bullies.”
“Those are cuts, not bruises. Unless they’re coming at you with knives, you can’t expect me to believe that.” Lancer stopped Danny and gently gripped his shoulder, turning the boy to face him. “This is serious. What if they become infected or worse?”
“Mr. Lancer, I'm fine. It isn’t anything extreme,” Danny claimed. Lancer sighed and gently grabbed Danny's arm. He pushed up the boy's sleeve and sighed.
“You know I'll have to report this, right?” he asked. Danny shook his head, looking at his teacher with pleading eyes.
“You can't tell my parents!” he said. “They'll send me away to some freaky hospital that will do nothing but shove pills down my throat!”
“Daniel, they won't admit you unless it's deemed you're a threat to yourself or others. But I could lose my job if I don't report this,” Lancer explained. “I promise you; everything will be fine.”
“You’re grounded,” Jack said firmly. Danny froze where he stood, backing away from the stairs and turning to his parents. He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from getting so angry that it affected his core or turned his eyes green.
“You find out I've been cutting, and your first response is to ground me?” he asked.
“What else do you expect us to do?”
“Get me some help?”
“And be unable to watch you? Absolutely not.”
“Well, I'm already grounded. You can’t ground me twice.”
“Then you're grounded for a month instead of two weeks!”
Danny rolled his eyes and turned to the stairs. “Whatever,” he muttered. He slowly moved up the stairs and hid away in his room. He felt like he was at his lowest point, like nothing mattered anymore. He sank into his bed and stared at the ceiling, seeing the soft glow of the stars Jazz had placed for him years ago. It amazed Danny how they still managed to glow warmly after so much time, but he could barely focus on that. All Danny could think of was how his parents had reacted to the news.
Jack and Maddie had forced him to show them every self-made scar, making him roll up his sleeves and pants without bothering to let Lancer leave first. It was exhausting, being held down as he cried for them to stop, not to do something so invasive in front of his teacher. But they never listen—never had, and it wasn't likely that they ever would.
Danny's body trembled as tears came to his eyes. He hugged himself as tears began to fall. His own home was a nightmare, and he was blocked off from the world. No phone, no way of leaving the house. Not even his sister was there to comfort him. Danny's eyes slipped to the window. He contemplated running. Not forever, just until he could calm down. He slowly sat up and wiped away the tears that threatened to fall.
“Maybe a flight will clear my head?” Danny muttered to himself. He slowly got out of bed, and two familiar rings moved up and down his body as he shifted into Phantom. With a deep breath, he phased through the window and took off into the sky. He closed his eyes as the wind ran through his hair and caressed his skin. It was refreshing, more than anything had been for him in years.
Is that why hours passed like seconds?
Phantom came to an abrupt halt when he realized he was at the edge of Amity Park. He stared at the ending of it, wishing he could go further, leave to be himself, but then he'd be leaving the city to defend itself. Phantom shook his head, finally seeing that the sun was setting. He groaned to himself, wondering how he kept losing track of time like this.
I'm such a mess, he thought. Phantom turned around and started heading home. He tried to stay high enough to keep anyone from seeing him, but the cloudless sky made it hard. Giving in, Phantom moved lower to the ground. He knew his parents would be in their lab, too engrossed in their studies to notice his absence, so he didn’t have to worry too much about being shot out of the sky.
“And be unable to watch you? Absolutely not.”
It was such a sick excuse, one Phantom had run through his head on a loop. His parents didn't want to help him, not properly, anyway. They'd probably have him on a spinning table by the end of the night, claiming to “shake the depression away.” He hated that curséd lab. It only brought him so much pain and suffering, isolation and neglect, and he was forced to go down there nearly every day. It was sickening, exhausting, and enough to make Phantom consider permanent death.
Like a slap across the face, Phantom was pulled from his thoughts by a short call of his name in a familiar voice that made his skin crawl. Phantom stopped and looked around, seeing Dash leaning out his bedroom window with a wide smile, happily waving to him. Phantom sighed and slowly made his way to the window, much to Dash's surprise.
“Dash,” Phantom spoke softly, the tremble in his voice still there despite his crying having stopped hours before. Dash stared at the ghost, unable to pull his gaze away from those bright green eyes. Phantom watched as his cheeks started to turn pink, his pupils growing in size as his eyes filled with adoration.
“Phantom!” Dash cleared his throat. “I didn't mean to stop you. I just wanted to say hi. Um, what are you doing in the area?”
“Just… roaming,” Phantom answered. He crouched on the windowsill, and Dash stepped back to give him some space. He couldn’t believe it. Phantom was so close to being in his room. He was an insignificant part of the world, of the city, yet Phantom was here with him, giving him the time of day he craved.
“Do you want to come inside?” Dash offered, his voice cracking with nervousness. Phantom looked over his shoulder, seeing how much sunlight he had left. He sighed and slipped into Dash's room.
“I can't stay for very long," he said.
“That's fine! Any time with you is perfect,” Dash laughed, though it quickly faded with the slightly disturbed look on Phantom's face. Was it his fault, or did something else happen before he had arrived?
Phantom hovered in place and crossed his legs, trying to take up as little space as possible. He looked around the room, noticing the little details. It was a little bigger than his own, and he couldn’t help but notice the logo Phantom had on his jumpsuit, poorly drawn on a sheet of paper, hanging on the wall by Dash's door. He glided over to it and carefully pulled it off the wall, not wanting to rip the paper.
“What's this?” Phantom asked.
“That's? Just something my little sister drew. Our parents aren't the biggest fans of you, so I just keep it in here,” Dash explained. Phantom looked back, a look of slight shock in his eyes.
“You have a sister?” he asked. Dash nodded, a smile forming on his lips. That was a shock. Phantom had always assumed Dash was an only child, and if he were to have any siblings, he never thought he'd treat them too well.
“She's taking a nap right now, otherwise I'd let you meet her,” Dash said. “Maybe next time.”
“Next time,” Phantom said. Dash's eyes lit up. Confirmation of there being a next time! He had to be dreaming. All of this felt too good to be true, at least for Dash. But Phantom was still a little anxious, both about being around Dash and the inevitability of needing to go home eventually. “Your room is nice,” Phantom said as he put the drawing back in its place.
“You think so?” Dash asked. “Thank you! I just remodeled it, actually. Or, I rearranged it, I guess.”
“I like it,” Phantom said. Dash's smile grew, and he took a seat at the edge of his bed.
“I like you,” Dash said confidently. “You're amazing! Saving the city and our school from ghosts nearly every day? We'd be goners without you!”
Another reminder for Phantom as to why he couldn’t leave, run away from his personal hell that was Amity Park. He sighed and slowly sank to the floor, sitting on his knees and hunching over to hide his face.
“Phantom?” Dash said softly. He slipped off the bed and kneeled before the ghost boy. “Are you okay?”
Phantom didn’t answer. He just stared at the floor, his hands resting against his knees. His fingers closed into shaking fists. He didn’t want Dash to see him so weak. This was the only time he saw him as anything more than a weak nobody who deserves nothing less than death.
“Phantom, look at me,” Dash said. He gently cupped Phantom's cheek and lifted his chin. Their eyes met, Phantom's filled with tears that he desperately tried to keep from falling. Dash's heart ached at the sight. Gently, he guided the ghost into his arms, holding him against his chest in a warm embrace, something Phantom hadn’t felt since Jazz left. It made him break, quietly sobbing into Dash's shoulder, just like he did most nights with Sam and Tucker.
“You don't get comfort often, do you?” Dash asked, his voice the softest Phantom had ever heard. Phantom shook his head, and he shakily gripped Dash's shirt, his body trembling with each agonizing sob. He felt so pathetic, like everyone who had ever called him worthless was right.
How low does someone have to be to let their bully hold and comfort them? Even if said bully didn't know it was them.
Phantom couldn’t see himself getting any lower. He closed his eyes as his body slumped against Dash's. He felt the boy's hands run through his hair, soothing him enough to stop his crying after a few minutes, reducing his sobs to nothing but shaky breathing.
“If you ever need a break, my window's always open,” Dash whispered. Phantom breathed out a soft laugh, and his grip on the boy's shirt lightened.
“Thank you,” he said. “I needed this…”
“Of course,” Dash said. He slowly pulled back just enough to look at Phantom's face. He wiped away any remaining tears with his thumbs and smiled softly, but it faded with a thought forming in his head. “You know, you kind of remind me of this boy at my school.”
“What?” Phantom asked, a lump forming in his throat.
“Yeah. His name's Daniel Fenton. He's such an annoying little pest,” Dash scoffed. “No offense. You just resemble him.”
“I don't know what you're talking about…”
“No, really. You have a similar nose and the same eye shape. But your hair's a little longer than his and lies more to the right. And… Your skin is a bit more tan.”
“You pay that much attention?”
“I've known him for years. It's kinda hard not to notice the little details.”
“Then what about me?”
Dash's face flushed red. He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “What can I say? You're an eye catcher.”
“Thank you,” Phantom said. “Um… I need to go.”
“Oh. Will you come back?” Dash asked hopefully.
“I… Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow night.”