Danny Phantom Fan Fiction ❯ Photo Opportunities ❯ Why Life Hates Me ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Dash's fingers brushed lightly across the sensitive volume dial, slowly turning up the sound injected into his ears via headphones as he jogged down the street. He waved to the pastor who stood by the door greeting people as they entered a church he didn't go to but always jogged by early Sunday evening. The aged old man with soft eyes and a kind smile waved back to him like he always did and Dash kept on jogging.
The night looked promising, clear skies, warm, the occasional cloud rolling by casting a small shadow across the early rising moon for a few moments as it drifted. It was a night to lie out in the grass and just stare up into the atmosphere.
That is, if you're not currently helping to track a group of zombie ghosts, which was exactly what Dash was doing. Sure it may look like he was going lazily down a street he frequented on his evening jogs, but that was all just slight coincidence, and his slight upturned face wasn't to enjoy the colorful sky, but to keep his ghostly companion Danny Phantom in sight, and those headphones connected to a strange iPod like device, communication. Yup, he was working today.
He heard Sam and Tucker voice their positions, having difficulty maneuvering their motor scooters into the small alleyways and busy streets Danny zoomed over. They were a block away to his left, down a street named after some plant that probably grew there before it was cut down, burned, squashed, and paved over to build the city.
His mind wandered back to the afternoon, Danny up in the Ops Center doing god knows what, and Jack and Maddie, despite Dash's protests, fixed up the guest room next to Danny's for him. They were, apparently, perfectly fine with him practically living there. Dash wondered about that while listening to the three teens bicker over the line. He fully planned to go home; in fact he was going to go home after helping Danny make his rounds. Kwan picked him up in the morning, and it wouldn't due for his mom to, once again, tell his friends he had spent the night at Fenton's.
People were already starting to get the wrong idea.
He had to do something about that.
~*~*~*~
Sam decided it wasn't worth the effort to argue with Danny and Tucker over the bruises and dropped the subject, instead choosing to focus all her attention on scanning the surrounding buildings and alleys for ghost activity.
This patrol wasn't the norm for them, as during the day they usually waited for ghost attacks, reserving the night for actually looking for them. Nightfall was when the haunts began, but apparently something had changed, or so said Danny, and their ever so fearless leader wanted to investigate. So they were out here half hour before sunset, with Dash.
Sam and Tucker protested against his inclusion, well, she had protested, Tucker just quickly agreed and chose not to face off with the only two people who could possibly strike fear into him, his best friend and his bully. Dash and Danny, Sam acknowledged, were quite the intimidating duo, whether they were agreeing on something or debating it.
And they fought worse than her and Tucker.
Dash, much to her chagrin, kept up with Danny better than they ever did, usually staying only a few meters back under him and easily maneuvering into alleyways and hopping fences. She told herself she could vault obstacles as well as the jock, she simply had to take care of Tucker, who often ended up in some dangerous ghost's clutches, resulting in further work for Danny. Still, it was irritating to see someone else doing their work, and doing it better.
For a while she had thought the worst possible thing was for Valerie to join their group, her gadgets and brilliant fighting skills outmatched them and she would have quickly become the public sidekick to Danny Phantom. Then Jazz, in her peppy “lets name things” helpfulness made her wish Valerie was there, at least she took the job seriously.
Now she wondered, while still resenting Dash, if her view of him would change like they did with the two girls. So far he had only been a mild annoyance and a good babysitter for Danny while he'd been injured. Truth be told she could get used to the idea of calling up the obsessed fan boy to play nurse. He was far more qualified to tussle with an angry and hurt Danny then the rest of them, Danny couldn't glare him down like he could with Tucker and her.
He'd been getting rather good at looking menacing these days. Her mind wandered off to his sudden moody attitude changes, usually surfacing around Christmas and when something was seriously bothering him.
She was so caught up in her thoughts she completely forgot where she was going and found herself sliding to a halt in a side street blocked by a wide chain link face. Tucker stopped his scooter with a bit more grace than she did, but squealing tires and black streaks weren't her idea of a turnoff.
“Shit.” She said and Danny laughed in her headset. “Shuddup,” She snapped. “What street are you over, I lost sight of you.”
“Basilisk, down by the docs.” She heard Dash say and her frown depended. Pros and cons in this arrangement, she reminded herself, still she'd never, ever enjoy someone play human sidekick better than her, he may have his uses, but his showing her up was not welcome. He can do all the patrolling he wanted when they were all off to college.
“Right. I know where to go. We'll catch up at the beach.” She said hotly and clicked off her headset. A dangerous and childish act, but Tucker still had his own and she felt a bit of satisfaction as the subtle static snapped instantly to silence.
She saw the way Danny had talked and laughed and played with Dash and his pals. He had always had a big inflatable ego and this newfound acceptance would no doubt go to his head, as it usually did. They all had their faults. She was passionate about things and tended to forget more important pressing matters, Tucker was power hungry, and Danny was, at heart, rather shallow. She knew this, and she accepted it like any good inalienable rights supporter would. But that didn't mean something shouldn't be done. An alcoholic may accept they're an alcoholic, that doesn't mean they shouldn't stop drinking.
Something had to be done about Dash. Just like something had to be done about Valerie and Jazz and every other person who tried to weasel their way into their group or pull Danny out. She and Tucker couldn't just fall to the wayside.
She wouldn't allow it.
~*~*~*~
They were laughing by the time they left the beach, holding their sides, barely able to balance on their stupid little motor scooters. Dash didn't know what to do, didn't know how to work the thermos and press the release button. He was getting frustrated and neither Sam nor Tucker would help. They just sat on the cold damp sand and laughed until they couldn't breathe and their faces were turning different shades. It was an embarrassing moment for both Dash and Danny, the later crammed into the thermos in the most undignified way.
He didn't even have the glory of having been in a fight like he did when Jazz had sucked him in. No, he had decided, as the sun was setting and the beach just happened to be a brilliant spot for watching it recede, to show Dash how to work some of the Fenton gadgets. After all, if he was going to be hanging around on a semi permanent basis, as soon as this whole thing was resolved he was going to pay Clockwork a visit; he would need to at least have a grasp on how to be useful. Football tackles and Hollywood karate chops didn't really work on things that went intangible.
It was a simple exercise; one he had taught Sam and Tucker after he had learned how to activate the thermos without using his powers, point and press the button. Simple, precise, and only really needing a few tries to get a feel for the unreasonable weight of the metal cylinder.
Thinking back it probably wasn't a great idea to do it at sunset, on a terrain where the light had nothing to block it and cast shadows, where the fading rays could hit you right in the face, or at least hit the windows of nearby buildings. Like the windows of the boat rentals shop with the big shiny metal sign with paint across it that says “We rent Boats” in the window, as if the name `Boat Rentals Shop' didn't get the message across clearly enough.
Fading sunlight plus shiny metal surface plus amateur `ghost getter' wielding an open thermos was not an equation Danny really wanted to face that evening, yet there he was, stuck in the thermos after a strategically placed sunbeam had hit Dash right in the eyes and had caused him to stumble and screw his eyes shut, accidentally aiming his `weapon' at the floating Danny Phantom.
Sam and Tucker looked at the uncapped thermos in silence before tumbling onto their backs in crippling laughter. Dash looked horrified as his eyes darted around the air above their heads, hoping he hadn't just done what he had thought he'd just done.
He looked down at the open thermos, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. Sam and Tucker pointed, trying in vain to form words. He tipped the object over, expecting Danny to come pooling out like a liquefied person filling up a mold, feet first, then legs then hips and so on. Instead he got a shout and a curse from inside. Startled he stepped back, dropping the thermos in the sand where it rolled emitting the worst kind of language Dash or any of them heard from him yet.
Sam and Tucker just laughed harder. They really would have been concerned, if this wasn't maybe the fifth time that year one of them accidentally captured him. He tended to get in the way a lot in his fights, once he and Youngblood had been stuck in there together for three hours because Lancer had confiscated the thermos until after school.
The water touched the edge of the device and Dash snatched it up quickly, fearful the tide would take it away. He clutched it to his chest and glared at Sam and Tucker with malice.
“What do I do?” He asked.
“Ju-Just press-” Sam tried to get out.
“Release,” Tucker gasped, on his back now, his heavy breathing interrupted by small shaking spasms of laughter.
“Where's the release?” Dash asked.
“On the thermos,” Tucker said and Dash scowled. Sam just laughed harder. It wasn't that funny, but since she was laughing anyway it really didn't matter. Such was the curse of hilarity; at the moment a meaningless noun would make her wet herself.
Now they were walking their scooters off the sand to head home, leaving Dash to figure out the contraption alone with a muttering, cursing Danny Phantom too busy yelling at his retreating friends in an almost inaudible way to help Dash get him out.
One step forward two steps back…..
~*~*~*~
Dash slammed the door to his house hard enough to cause the pictures on the walls to shudder. His mom, in all her beautiful middle-aged glory, poked her head out of the kitchen to stare curiously at him. Dash never figured out how his mother could be such a feminazi yet dress like she was an alcoholic housewife from the fifties. Complete with headband in hair and pearls around her neck.
The only rebellion from the picture perfect woman he called his mother was the flats that adorned her feet, as working seventy hours a week in three inch heels would not make her the peppy person she was. As usual her hair was impeccable and her makeup artistically done to make her look beautiful, yet not hide her `wisdom lines' as she liked to call her wrinkles.
He smiled at her in the adoring way he always did when he saw her the few hours out of the day. His heart always swelled up when he saw his parents, unlike most of his friend's houses, Paulina living with her divorced father, Valerie having a dead mother, Kwan with his grandparents, he had a perfect family. And he loved being reminded of that every time he walked through the door late to see his mother working to prepare a large family meal despite the fact that she had piles of paperwork sitting on her desk down the hall.
His father screamed from the bedroom, yelling into his cell phone about insane layers and not enough evidence for a warrant.
Deciding it was best not to interrupt his dad he hurried up the stairs as quietly as possible and headed into his room, the thermos still in his hand, capped now, and shut the door on his family, and the world. He had never wanted to shy away from his parents, but sitting there trying to find a single button on a heavy metal thermos that seemed to have a million little lights that all looked like buttons but weren't wasn't what his parents considered sane.
He tossed the Fenton Thermos unceremoniously onto his bed while chucking off his shoes and putting his jacket back up in the closet with his millions of others. There was a frenzied slur of swears omitted from the cylindrical device but Dash ignored them, instead flopping down on his bed and, burying his face in his pillow, he screamed.
Teenagers should not have to go through this much stress in a few days time.
“It's your own fault,” Dash declared when he regained his breath. More muffled curses told him the being in the thermos heard him. “I'm sorry, I know I screwed up but it was all your idea, and it is your fault.”
The thermos was silent, Dash looked over, it almost looked like it was pouting.
“So, if you tell me how to, I can open the thermos.” He said to the device, “I can let you out, if you just tell me how to do it.”
Again silence.
“Why so quiet?” he picked up the thermos. “Say something.”
Just a quiet swear. Dash blushed at the comment.
“Fine, just stay in there and be bitter.” Dash said shoving the thermos on the top of his bed none too gently. “You can just spend the night in there.” Shucking his shirt off and kicking out of his pants he sat back in his bed and flipped open his cell phone. “I'm calling your house to say you're staying the night.”
There were a series of protests and swear words, Dash threw his pillow at it. “Be quiet Fenton, and get some sleep.” He lay down on his bed, feeling the thermos beneath his pillow slip down against the back of his neck. “We've got school in the morning.”
There was more noise but the pillow made it almost impossible to hear.
~*~*~*~
Once again Danny found himself sitting on Dash's bed watching the larger teen go through his closet and, though he didn't think it was possible, he was far more pissed, if somewhat dryer.
“Still have the sling?” Dash asked, pushing aside a row of hangers containing jackets to reach a box behind them.
Danny held up the hated material with his pinky, though he really didn't want to as his arm was already mostly healed, he knew he had to just to keep up appearances.
Dash turned around with a T-shirt and jeans in his hand, he nodded at the sling before handing the cloths to Danny.
Danny just stared at the items. “You know it would only take me a moment to fly home and change. You don't have to babysit me,” he scowled.
“Listen Fenton, you're in no condition to be doing any kind of hovering or passing through walls or the like, not with those things out there and not with your injuries.” Dash pointed his finger in Danny's face. “And besides—”
“That's it!” Danny jumped up, knocking the cloths out of Dash's hand. “I've had enough of your damn overprotective bullshit. You stay at my house without my permission, you follow me everywhere, you trap me in my own damn thermos, and now you tell me I can't even go home and change?! Bullshit!”
Dash looked taken aback. “I was just trying to be helpful.”
“Helpful? Helpful?! I think I preferred you beating me up on a daily basis! You are the furthest thing from helpful anyone could ever get! Jaz was more helpful than you and she was unbearable!” Danny halted in his outburst, a tightness in his chest causing him to unconsciously clench the bottom hem of his shirt, but he knew if he showed weakness, if he backed down even slightly, Dash would never get the point, would never understand that `he' was the protector. That he did not need rescuing. That moment Friday night, it was a onetime breakdown; a small glimpse of weakness and frailty that he would never show again, could never show again.
With a deep breath he met Dash's gaze, determined to take his life back. “I don't need a savior Dash, help maybe, advice sure, a decoy to draw attention, hell yeah, but not a savior. Never a savior. I've played the victim too damn long to go back to the sidelines.” With that he disappeared, like he did before, a popped bubble. Once again leaving Dash in his room, with the empty unfulfilled feeling of someone who didn't get the last word in on an argument.
~*~*~*~
It was no surprise to Danny that when he popped into his house there was no one around to avoid, he knew that Dash had called last night to say he had stayed over, meaning wine and dinner mess in the kitchen and late sleeping parents wrapped in each other's arms upstairs. So a quick change and a slice of bread were well within his ability, without the use of ghost powers, meaning he could conserve energy for fighting off the day's spectral advances.
Life was, at least, slightly more bearable after his first shower of the week, he had started to smell pretty ripe after two days. The soaking he took on Saturday at Dash's house did not count. It had only taken him a good fifteen minutes to get everything ready for Monday, everybody's favorite day of the week.
With a pat on Grimalkin's head he transformed and flew out the window, hoping his dad wouldn't wake up and look outside.
He had no doubt he would run into an irate Dash while at school, they did share pretty much every class, but it was okay, better actually. A kind, considerate Dash would probably make the high school implode. Yeah, pissy Dash Baxter was better, it was the norm, and norm was what he needed now.
~*~*~*~
Ah the joys of being a high school bully; the power, the thrill, the look of pure terror in the eyes of the submissive, and the hatred radiating from those yet to be broken. What more could any jock want out of his high school experience? What else was there to do? What higher standard could the brainless hulking brutes of these sanctified hallways set for themselves but to be the constant torment of those who would one day rule society?
Dash Baxter, star quarterback for Amity Parks own Casper High, was far from being one of the future rulers, but rather was doomed to forever live his life as the low income worker. If he was lucky nothing bad would happen to his parent's finances and he'd get a little something nice when they finally kicked the bucket. All these future plans meant little to him now, however, and every time he walked through the doors of Casper High he was constantly reminded that a few semesters at the community college were all he really had planned after senior year.
To take his mind off these troubling matters he instantly clicked back into bully mode, instinctively searching out his favorite targets to help ease the pain of failure.
However a he stepped through the doors today he was reminded that his favorite and frequent target was pretty much permanently off limits, and as Kwan, the only football star in the history of Casper High to actually have a chance of success outside of playing for the pros, started to slide up beside him and chat about what happened over the weekend he was only reminded more of how useless he was.
Kwan was trying to ask him about why he disappeared yesterday; he just gave some offhanded excuse about needing to be home early and leaving something and Fenton's house. As far as he was concerned the whole weekend was a complete bomb, from the time he figured out who Danny Phantom was to the big verbal fights that had both him and Fenton snarling at each other.
In fact, whatever upside he might have thought was involved in hanging out with Danny Phantom had been mercilessly shredded by the fact that he also had to put up with Danny Fenton. Suddenly his hero didn't seem very godly and heroic anymore, and Fenton didn't seem so much like a wuss. His entire perspective was changing right beneath his feet and he felt like the world would never right itself. He was caught between protecting someone who couldn't protect themselves, and trusting someone capable of protecting an entire town, and these two were one in the same!
“Dash!” He snapped back to the school, away from the crumbling, folding earth beneath his feet.
“Yeah?” He asked, looking at his best friend, up until Friday he was the only person Dash thought he could truly count on. How much could really change in a few short days?
Kwan stared hard at him, they had stopped at Dash's locker, Dash standing, staring at is combination lock for a few moments before the Asian snapped him out of his daze. Kwan was worried; Dash was acting more out of it than usual. “Are you okay buddy?”
“Of course, why?”
“You know…” Kwan paused, looking hard at him. “You know you can trust me with anything right?”
“Yeah.” Dash said. Yeah, right. Like Dash could really trust his blabbermouth friend with anything. He loved Kwan, really he did, but the guy was too gossipy to be trusted with anything you didn't want all over the school. Like Dash's love of Nsync when they were sophomores.
Kwan regarded his short answer and decided he could take a hint. Walking away, back towards their usual group he threw Dash one last worried look. `Fenton's parents probably experimented on him or something.' He thought jokingly, but new it wasn't something as absurd as that. No, Dash was troubled by something.
But what?
~*~*~*~
“I don't believe it!” Tucker said as he grabbed a copy of the school paper, staring at it with such intensity that it was near certain he was trying to make it spontaneously combust. “This must be a dream, somebody pinch me, this can't be real!” he was practically screaming, shaking as he held the paper. “Ouch! I said pinch, not punch!” He glared at the newspaper girl who had socked him. She flipped her thick brown ponytail at him and moved on.
“What's the ruckus?” Sam asked as she approached her sour yet energized looking friend rubbing his arm.
“Something unbelievable, Sam.” He rasped as he turned wild eyes towards her. “Something unbelievable.” He shot his fist up in the air and proudly declared. “I won!”
Sam rolled her eyes, snatching the abused paper from his clenched fist. “Shut up Tucker.”
“That's the picture I took of Danny on Thursday. Wow I thought it'd take longer to do, who knew they'd have it out by Monday? I can't believe they decided to print it in color!” Sam looked pained and Tucker fell momentarily silent. “What's wrong?” He asked.
“Did you see this?”
“What?”
This, this here! Did you see it?” Sam pointed to the paper.
Tucker looked in shock at the page. “I didn't notice that before.” He said squinting reaching for the paper again to take a closer look, willing the text in front of him to change, to display something different. He did not wanting to be reading that line on the cover that his eyes refused to be torn from. “Is that really…?” Sam nodded with a constipated look. “Today's date?”
“We missed his birthday.”
~*~*~*~
“My mind is slipping away from me.” Dash said, taking a seat next to Danny in their first period, something he had never done before.
Danny turned his head and glared from his position, hunched over his desk, arms crossed to pillow his head, not having the energy, or the will, to sit up even to comment on the obvious state of Dash's mind.
With a sigh Dash propped his head up in his hand and waited for Mr. Lancer, their wonderful first and last period teacher, who got them into this whole mess. Neither Danny nor Dash was very pleased to see him walk in through the door with a light smile on his face and a stack of school newspapers under his arm.
“Something must have happened over the weekend,” his need to gossip, even to the deaf ear of Danny Fenton, was almost overpowering. “Wonder if he got a date.”
“Good morning class.” Lancer chirped.
Danny grunted not bothering to lift his head up from his arms long enough to see the glow in his teacher's eyes, it wasn't worth it. “Or somebody got a good grade on Friday's test.”
“Gasp, a response.” Dash mumbled. He refused to believe even Lancer was that far beyond help, but sat up straighter when he came by and set a paper down on his desk. “Hey Mr. Lancer.” He smiled his cocky jock smile and Lancer stopped, his own smile faltering momentarily.
Danny and Dash, sitting next to each other, were met with a strange assessing glance before the teacher moved on, practically singing good morning back to them. A few girls in the class giggled, hiding behind the paper when the jock looked their way.
“As if this place wasn't weird enough.” Dash mumbled, picking up the paper if only to hide behind the stares. Danny didn't respond, perfectly content in his sleepy teenage posture, turning his head away from everything. “What the hell is going on today?” Danny made small mumbling sounds that weren't really words, but sounded like some kind of a response. “Well, Danny Phantom sure looks good on the front page.”
After a few seconds Danny groaned softly and sat up, teenage curiosity forcing him to look at the paper. “Yeah, I guess.” He said, picking it up. It was pretty good quality, Tucker should have joined Photography; nevertheless it was not worth the effort he used to lift his head up, and he wasn't exactly going to let Dash use it as a conversation starter.
When Danny didn't continue, Dash tried again. “Grimalkin looks good too,” then he grimaced, putting the paper back down on the table, why had he brought up that damn cat, oh well, run with it. “People are going to notice it's yours.”
“How?” Danny asked, propping his head up in his hand and turning sideways in his seat to face Dash. “He's just a cat, in this picture he looks like nothing more than a ball of black blurry fuzz.” It was true, Grimalkin looked more like a toy or bundled up feather boa in the picture. “`sides, most people only see Danny Phantom.”
Almost every student was watching them out of the corner of their eye, even if they were talking in hushed whispers and no one could hear what they were saying. “Well, how many black cats do you see around Amity? For some strange reason it's, you know, not common.”
Danny was about to point out that he had seen one, before the knowledge that it was really a shape-changing ghost, and it had happened in sophomore year, crept into his brain and he shut his mouth with a click of teeth. Danny let his hand fall and turned to face the front of the class again, his cheeks burning. In his mind Dash just got another point up on the scoreboard.
Dash smiled, glad to have actually won the argument this time.
So much for angry silence.
“Aren't you supposed to be playing totally pissed bully right now?” He asked finally, when Lancer made his way back up to the front of the class and everyone's attention was diverted for a few seconds.
“For what,” Dash looked surprised, “because you stormed out this morning? It was understandable, excusable, and after spending all this time with you, predictable.”
“Oh, so now I'm predictable?”
“Well, yeah. You're a habitual person, everyone is.” Dash shrugged.
“Wow Dash, such big words.” Danny sneered. “You get tutored by my sister again?”
“No.” Dash said, snippets of the conversation yesterday morning filtered through his brain, forcing him to ignore the jibe. “More like a psychological analysis.” He shook his head, “which is why I definitely think my brain is busted, or at least malfunctioning.”
“Yeah, because being nice to me just about tears everything apart doesn't it?”
“Listen Fenton, if I didn't want to be nice to you, I wouldn't be nice to you. Got it? The school is making me be decent, carry your books, hold the door open for you, and of course, not beat you up. Nothing more, so everything else is voluntary.”
“And would these voluntary acts be triggered by, say, a black jumpsuit?”
“You know damn well it's not all about that.”
“Then what is it about Dash? Because you know `damn well' you wouldn't be half as `decent' if I wasn't running round saving this town's worthless, ungrateful ass.”
“If it's so worthless and ungrateful, why save it anyway?”
“Because I'm the good guy, and that's what good guys do.”
“Sure, like robbing banks and attacking mayors and stealing Christmas gifts? Yeah, that's so what good guys are all about.”
“Boys,” Lancer interrupted and the two looked up, realizing they were getting very close in their argument. There was a silence in the class, Danny and Dash looked at each other, both leaning out of their seats to get in each other's face. “If you're going to flirt please step outside the class.” And then, everyone started laughing.
Everyone, that is, except Danny and Dash, who quickly and quietly sat back in their seats in stunned embarrassment and didn't so much as look at each other the remainder of the period, though they had received plenty of glances themselves. When the bell rang they silently gathered their things and left, shoulder to shoulder, not saying a word.
Leaving Dash's unread newspaper on the desk.
~*~*~*~
Dash carried Danny's government text and folder when they went to the next class, it wasn't particularly heavy, but when Danny attempted to carry it himself they noticed two teachers who were greeting students walking into class tense and stare at them funny. In the end, it was better to simply swallow his pride and allow Dash to carry his things.
Being monitored sucked baboon ass.
Danny took advantage of his free hands to crumble his newspaper up and tossed it at Sam, who was walking about a yard in front of them. It hit the back of her head, bounced off, and smacked Valerie in the face, who was walking slightly behind her, blocking his view of Tucker. The two girls spun around abruptly and glared behind them, their eyes scanning for an instant before focusing on him.
Danny smiled innocently and waved, he really hadn't meant to hit Valerie, but mores the better, the girls stopped, Valerie picking up the paper, Sam grabbing Tucker by the shoulder, and waited for the two.
Somewhere between them stopping and Danny and Dash catching up Kwan and Star joined and they all entered Government together. Valerie socked Danny in the arm and gave him the stupid paper back, which he stuck in his pocket laughing.
“This reminds me creepily of our first day in this class.” Star said to Valerie as they took their seats in the back. Dash had backtracked to grab Danny by his free arm and tug him to the last row when he tried to sit down somewhere in the middle, Sam and Tucker followed. “Except this time I don't think Dash is planning on dumping a vanilla pudding cup in Fenton's lap.”
“From what I hear, white goo should still be expected.” Kwan sniped derisively, tearing at a corner of the newspaper he had spent all of last period glued to in the hope that somewhere, in some tiny near microscopic print, some disclaimer would announce it was a hoax. Photoshoped by so and so and in no way pertaining to actual events.
The two girls were about to remark but hushed when the jock had managed to maneuver a resisting loser into their corner.
“I don't sit back here.” Danny hissed. It wasn't assigned seating, but they had all sat in the same seats since the beginning of the semester and he didn't like the idea of the popular wannabes sending death glares for hijacking their revolving positions.
“You do today.” Dash put his book and folder down on the desk next to his own with a smack. “And you sit next to me next class too, and during lunch, and final period.” Danny glowered and the forgotten trio exchanged glances; “and, you're sitting out in P.E.”
He never hated having Dash in four of his seven classes more in the entire year than he did just then. “Do you recall that little conversation we had in your room this morning?” Danny sat down where Dash had put his stuff, feeling slightly dizzy.
“You were in his room this morning?” Star questioned with feigned disinterest as she fixed her makeup. Dash glared a warning at Danny, who pretended not to notice. Kwan saw it, however, and raised an eyebrow.
“Spent the night,” Danny was too angry to really care what she thought, and too tired to keep having these pointless staring contests with Dash, a throb had started around the bottom edge of his right eye. “Why, you jealous?”
“Danny, really could you stop with that.” Valerie said in a hushed voice, curling her fingers around her textbook. “I know you get snarky when you're irritated or just…whenever, but people are beginning to wonder.”
“People already wonder.” Star clicked her compact shut. She looked at them through the corner of her eye. “Do I need to tell you what they wonder about?”
Danny really wasn't into gossip right now, and pretended to be interested in working, but his pencil wouldn't cooperate, he glanced at his fingers and noticed they were trembling. That throbbing had become more insistent and every pulse sending a pin up to his temple. The light of the overhead projector displaying the daily essay question they had to answer was almost too bright and he had to bury his face in his arms to stop the pain. So much for getting work done.
“Well I did notice a lot of people are looking at us oddly.” Dash answered pointedly in the direction of a girl leaning a bit out of her chair in the row over to eavesdrop. She flinched and scooted as far back into her chair as she could. Danny would have snorted, if he felt like it, instead, he involuntarily listened, willing his ears to go deaf.
“How about we start with this” Kwan waved at the two of them, “any reason why you're suddenly all chummy?”
“ I thought you guys all went over this Saturday?” Tucker crossed his legs on top of the desk and contributed. “Danny's injured and Dash is helping.”
“I seem to recall you being injured before and he didn't do shit for you.” Star snapped, Tucker looked startled at her outburst. Something was eating at her. “And Sunday you insisted on hanging out, and were seen leaving together. And some people are even saying you've been,” she hissed the next part in the smallest whisper she could manage and still be heard, “doing things.”
Danny made a sound that could have been an irritated grumble, could have been an agonized moan. It was hard to tell with his head buried in his arms.
“Doing what?” Dash's eyebrow twitched in irritation and Star looked like she was going to be sick just having to mention it.
Valerie saved her the trouble. “This.” She held the school newspaper up to the jock, folded back to the gossip page where a picture took up most of the page, with two columns of text beneath it.
Kwan had a dark, questioning look on his face as he watched Dash's reaction. “Care to explain?”
“Explain what?” Danny asked, curious now and feeling slightly better since resting his eyes. Nevertheless, as soon as he raised his head, his stomach lurched. Stumbling out of his chair he grabbed the pass from the door and rushed from the class so quickly his teacher never got the chance to refuse. He was vaguely aware of his friends calling after him, but the teacher did manage to hold them back, thankfully.
Hold it in, holditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinhol ditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholdit inholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditinholditin HOLD IT!!!!!!!!!
He slammed into a stall, not bothering to close the door, and vomited. SUCCESS!
He just sat there, trembling, looking down at the toilet until the automatic flush swept away what little he had for breakfast that morning. He felt the disturbed air push against his face and realized with disgusted shock that he was resting his face against what people sat on to crap.
With a scowl he pushed himself up and leaned instead against the cool plastic wall separating his stall from the next, and just breathed. His shoulders were shaking and he couldn't for the life of him understand why, he wasn't even cold, in fact he was burning up. He turned and pressed his cheek to the cool wall and closed his eyes, trying to detach himself from the pain in his chest that threatened to bend him double.
“Fenton?!” He looked up to see three girls who were members of the swarm constantly around Paulina and Star. “Are you okay?!”
The pretty black girl with the beauty mark, he seemed to recall her being one of Jaz's friends, Ashley, knelt down beside him. “You look like hell.” She said putting a hand to his forehead, “and you're as hot as it too.” She looked over at her friends.
“Please don't,” Danny scrunched his eyes closed, “tell me I'm in the girls room.”
“You are.” One of the other girls, the red head with the glasses, ripped off some toilet paper and brushed it beneath his lips. Great, he had vomit on his face. Just great.
“Come on.” The black girl gripped him under his arms and helped him to stand, “Let's get you to the infirmary.” And with the three of them, he managed to get up, out of the bathroom, and to the nurse's without much hassle.
The nurse took one look at him and rushed to fix up the bed so he could rest. “Oh dear, oh dear. I knew this whole ordeal wouldn't work out. Just look at you.” She made him lie down onto the paper covered plush cushion and he didn't complain, not like he normally would have anyway. What was wrong with him? “What did he do this time, break a rib?” Danny kept his eyes open and tried to explain, but his voice was choked inside him.
“Who?” The blonde with pigtails asked about to leave, they stopped at the door when they heard the nurse `tsking' and `tuting.'
“That Dashiel Baxter. I knew, I knew he was the one who hurt him before. Now look at this. Ishiyama and Lancer think they can build bonds by making them work together, but all it does is give that boy time alone to do whatever he wants.” Her scowl deepened.
“But, I thought they were a couple?” The girls looked at each other, then moved back over to Danny, who looked pained and was trying to sit up, his mouth moving but nothing coming out. Gay, they thought he was gay?!
“You don't think?”
“Danny?” The red haired girl said, and Danny realized he didn't know her name, just that she worked at the nasty Burger with Ernie and Val. “Hey, we're going shopping tomorrow after school, you want to come?” She asked.
“If you feel better that is.” Ashley chirped, a worried look on her face.
“Yeah, if you feel better. We can all go to the movies or something.” She smiled, her and her friends nodding. “Paulina and Star and a few of the other girls are coming. It's a girls' afternoon for us since all the guys have somewhere to be.”
“We'd like you to come.”
“Girls.” The nurse ushered them away from the bed. “Leave him be. He's in no condition to be going anywhere.” She was a big woman, and despite the sickly sweet voice, quite imposing when she wanted to be. “I'm calling his parents, now shoo.”
Danny felt himself fall back onto the bed, the strain of holding himself up too much for him. He looked at the girls leaving the office, wishing he had at least a shred of strength to tell him he was not with Dash Baxter.
But really, he didn't even have the energy to feel real upset about that, just…what was he so worried about again? He blinked, unable to remember.
He just wanted to go to sleep.
~*~*~
Dash's nervousness had escalated from gnawing on his pencil to accidentally biting the eraser off and almost choking on it by the time the bell rang to end class. A wannabe from Paulina's cosmetic circle had brought the room's bathroom pass back to class with the information that Danny was in the nurse's office and probably would not be in school the rest of the day. Every time Dash looked over at the empty seat with book and triple R necessities sitting on the top he felt a sinking in his stomach, like that eraser he'd swallowed suddenly turned into a cannonball. The girl had given him a strange look as she left, not that he wasn't getting strange looks from everybody; he had almost had a stroke when he read that gossip article, but this girl's look was different than those curious, questioning, and disturbed glances.
Hers was an angry, confused kind of glare. Like she was pissed, but didn't know what to be pissed about, or if she should really even be pissed at all.
Reading into it only made his head hurt, and with Danny in the nurse's office after he bolted only made him worry and his head hurt more. Danny could be trying to skip out of school to avoid everyone, but he hadn't even glanced at the paper before practically flying out of his chair.
It was lucky the bathroom was right across the hall, because he looked like he was seriously going to puke.
He pressed his middle and index fingers against his temple and started massaging in smooth circular motions, his mother always did that when she was upset about something. In the end it only made him dizzy and with a sigh he gathered Danny's and his stuff up and left the class, head high and eyes straight, ignoring everybody.
He was going to fucking kill whoever took that picture.
He had opted not to tell Kwan and Star anything about the newspaper, more because Danny's abrupt departure made the whole thing so trivial and headache inducing than because he didn't want to outright deny it. He simply told them that if they had to ask, after all these years, than they didn't know him as well as they thought they did.
Truth was, these days he didn't even know himself that well.
Looking back on that idiotic freshman he used to be and feeling disgust wasn't unusual, in fact many people did it, what he couldn't get around was that he didn't even realize how much he grew up until about three days ago, and he was trying to find some other reason for this change, this gradual maturity, and he couldn't.
Well, other than Danny Phantom and his sudden not so secret identity.
When did that picture get taken? He didn't remember ever making out with Danny in a grassy area, so…maybe a Photoshop? Then again, it could have been a ghost possession? He didn't remember so had he been possessed then? He would have to ask Fenton when he saw him next if he knew what it was all about.
And if he did, and hadn't told him. He was going to strangle the dweeb. Danny Phantom or not.
Thing is, he didn't even know Danny Phantom had a secret identity until Friday. He was just another ghost, hanging out around here and protecting everyone.
Maybe they were shape-changing ghosts? Maybe one of them was possessed and the other was a fake? Or maybe it was just a really, really good photo-manip. that no one could see it was a hoax?
Maybe he should be thinking more about his sudden epiphany and less about a stupid school newsletter that could just be some prank.
Hey, maybe it was a prank! Maybe his friends were setting him up! Maybe he should just roll it off his shoulders.
Maybe he should pick a thought topic ans stick with it before he gave himself personality disorders. He shook his head to clear away the resulting strands of thoughts that flittered through his mind, reaching to open his locker to put his stuff away, careful that the bare code said it was his book and not Fenton's before closing the door and turning to return Danny's stuff to its metal stronghold.
It was only when his eye flicked to the locker next to him that it finally, really did hit him. What if he was seriously hurt? What if he had bolted because of a ghost and got injured in the fight and the girl had found him. What if that's what the look had been about?! She thought he had beaten Danny up so badly he had to stay in the health office!
Indescribable images of Danny's broken body flashed like a slide show of crime scene pictures followed on the heels of the revelation, each one disturbing him more and more. He'd been so tired, would he have been able to hold his ground.
Dash's knuckles had turned white as his long fingers clenched the text and note book in his hands, staring at Danny's combination lock, willing its numbered curves to reveal to him the answer to these wild fears. He breathed slowly, sure he was about to hyperventilate. He had to believe Danny could handle it, he could. He COULD!
But the thought of Danny being in the nurses office, the protector, the hero, was in pain somewhere and Sam, Tucker, him and just about everybody else were all just going to head off to their next period class, it wouldn't leave his mind.
Was this how the hero was really rewarded?
Sam and Tucker, he realized, honestly believed he could do it all on his own. Danny Phantom, hero and savior of the city, hell the world on the occasion, but damn it all he was still just a teenager. A teenager who was hurt, and even if he insisted he was fine Dash knew he needed protection. Sure not a savior, certainly not a knight in shining armor, but he still needed looking after. And Dash felt he was more than qualified, more so than those two friends of his at least.
He just needed to get past this constant worry was all. With a heavy sigh he opened the locker and shoved Danny's stuff inside. He'd visit the infirmary on his way to his next period, and then during lunch if he was still there, and check in again during gym, and if he still hadn't gone home by the time school let out he'd pick him up and take him home.
Then he'd ask about the picture.
And depending upon the results of that inquiry he may or may not be disposing of a dead dork later on in the evening.
“Dash!” He turned to see Paulina flouncing over.
Great, just great, she had a stupid newspaper in her arms. Why that stupid article couldn't be put in an issue no one read like all the other articles, was beyond him. No, they had to put it in with Danny Phantom on the cover, and stick it to the foreheads of every blabbermouth that would read the gossip column and tell everyone else to grab an issue.
“Dash! Hey.” She sang in an eerily familiar way to Lancer this morning.
God everything today was starting to make less and more sense at the same time. Was that even possible?!
“Hey.” He smiled slightly, juggling his business math book as he tried to keep Danny's books from falling onto the floor, he was fairly certain there was some kind of method to putting it away, maybe if he leaned it up against the Fenton Peeler, under a small plastic box filled with spare sets of Fenton Phones, next to the shorted out Specter Deflector. “How did things go after I left?” He asked. Referring to Sunday. Many, how much ghost paraphernalia did he keep in there.
“Fine, fine. We all headed back to the field, finished off the game, and went home, the usual for a Sunday.” She smiled, leaning against his locker and he knew something he was not going to like would be coming off those pretty, full lips of hers. “The girls and I, we're going out shopping tomorrow after school, and we wanted to know if you'd come along?”
“We've been through this; I know have terrible taste in fashion, but I'm not going to let you girls dress me up again.” With a huff he managed to shove the door closed. Screw it, if it all fell out tomorrow it served the dope right. You'd think he'd keep it immaculately clean compared to the rest of the boy's life if for no other reason than because he was shoved inside on a regular basis. Nothing like a pencil jammed somewhere it shouldn't be to inspire someone to be tidy. His brow furrowed, yeah right. “Isn't Tuesday the all girls shopping spree day of the week?” He asked, glancing down at her.
Paulina giggled. “Yeah, but Dash you don't count.” She pushed away from the locker and started walking off. What the hell? Didn't count? As what? As a guy or as a guy not invited? `You don't count.' Is there any word in there not meant to attack his manliness? “Oh, and your boyfriend is coming too, so no sneaking off into dark corners.” She said with a wink and several people in the hall turned away from friends and lockers to stare at him.
His cheeks burned.
“We're not dating!” He cried and Paulina turned to look at him in mild surprise blinking her painted eyelids in confusion. “We have absolutely no romantic feelings for each other,” Dash declared pointing his finger down at her, “and before you ask no sexual feelings either. God we didn't even like each other until Friday.”
“So, what changed Friday?” Paulina asked.
“He —” Dash shut his mouth real quick, spine going ramrod. He was not just about to say that! He was not about to tell Danny Phantom's number two fan, aside from himself, that her Ghost Boy was someone who crushed on her for years. Biting his bottom lip a second he glared down at her. “Danny and I don't like each like that.”
“Danny?” Paulina asked with a slight smile, “So its Danny now?” and before he said anything else she sauntered off with a smile.
God, did nothing he say pierce that thick hair of hers?!
He glared down at the tiled floor, jaw tight, fists clenched so tight around his math book he feared he'd rip it in two, right through the cardboard cover and everything. Trying hopelessly to ignore the whispered conversations going on around him, the curious stares, the assumptions. He was the King of Casper High!!! They did not do this to him, they did not question and speculate behind his back, he did not walk down a hallway of whispers and points. It didn't happen. Not to him.
Not to Dash Baxter!
With a clenched fist he punched the lockers using enough force to rattle the whole isle, leaving a warped dent in a Danny's door and startling everyone. He leaned his head on his forearm against the lockers, looking away from everyone, their silent stares at his back.
This simply did not happen to him.
Or rather, it wasn't supposed to.