Photo Opportunities X

“My mind is slipping away from me.” Dash said, taking a seat next to Danny in their first period.

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, lifting his head up from his arms long enough to see the glow in his teacher’s eyes. “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.

Danny and Dash 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 either of the boys 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 nodded, settling back 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 wasn’t 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 as well, turning sideways in his seat to face Dash. “He’s a tinny black cat, in this picture he looks like nothing more than a kitten, he has no identifying marks, no obvious physical traits that would incite anything more than a subtle first glance curiosity.”

“Well really, how many black cats do you see around Amity? For some strange reason it’s a rarity.”

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.

Dash smiled, 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. 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.

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. “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 in a skin tight hazmat suit 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. “If you’re going to flirt please step outside the class.”

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, and then, everyone started laughing.

Everyone, that is, except Danny and Dash, who quickly and quietly sat back in their seats in stunned embarrassment.

They didn’t so much as look at each other the remainder of the period, though they had received plenty of glances themselves.

-

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 toss it at Sam’s head, who was walking about a yard in front of them.

It hit her and 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 harm 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 grabbed Danny by his free arm and tugged him to the last row with them when he tried to sit down somewhere in the middle. Sam and Tucker followed.

“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 said and put his book and folder down on the desk next to his with a smack. “And you sit next to me next class too, and during lunch, and final period.” Danny glowered; “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, and Dash glared at Danny.

“Spent the night,” Danny said, 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.

“Danny, really could you stop with that.” Valerie said in a hushed voice, curling her fingers around her textbook. “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.

“I kind of made the mistake of coming up with some lame excuse Friday.” Dash said in answer and mild form of explanation. Danny would have snorted, if he felt like it, instead he involuntarily listened, willing his ears to go deaf.

“Then Saturday you and Danny gave Paulina, Kwan and us completely different sides to the story, neither of them matching that particular one you told the night before, right?” Tucker crossed his legs on top of the desk and he contributed.

“And Sunday you hung out, and were seen leaving together.” Sam nodded. 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. Things were not looking good, especially with what he said Saturday. He knew he should be kicking himself right then, but for some reason he couldn’t conjure the energy to even scold himself.

“And,” Star said, crossing her ankles and she held up the school newspaper with slim, well-manicure fingers, “this.”

Kwan had a dark, questioning look on his face as he watched Dash’s reaction. “Care to explain?”

-

As soon as he raised his eyes to that picture Danny’s stomach lurched and he stumbled out of his chair, grabbing the pass from the door and rushing from the class so quickly his teacher never got the chance to refuse. He was vaguely aware of his friends calling after them, but the teacher did manage to hold them back, thankfully.

He slammed into a stall, not bothering to close the door, and vomited.

He just sat there, trembling, looking down at the toilet until the automatic flush swept away what little he had for breakfast this 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 in legwarmers, purple legwarmers, 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 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, of dear. I knew this whole ordeal wouldn’t work out. Just look at you.” She made him lie down, 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 girls 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.”

“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 black girl said, and Danny realized he didn’t know her name. “Hey, we’re going shopping tomorrow after school, you want to come?” She asked.

“If you feel better that is.” Her friend 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 upset about that.

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 cycle 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. 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 had barely 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 and his stuff up and left the class, head high and eyes straight, ignoring everybody.

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.

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. He shook his head, reaching to open his locker. It was only when his eye flicked to the locker next to him that it finally, really did hit him. Danny was sick, and 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?

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. And he 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 that qualified, more so than those two friends of his at least.

“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 chirped in an eerily familiar way to Lancer this morning.

God everything today was starting to make sense.

“Hey.” He smiled slightly, closing his locker and, juggling his business math book, tried to open Danny’s locker to put his stuff away. “How did things go after I left?” He asked.

“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.” Dash paused in shutting Danny’s locker, kept immaculately clean compared to the rest of the boy’s life, no doubt 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, “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! Biting his bottom lip a second he glared down at her. “Danny and I don’t like each like that.”

“Danny, so its Danny now?” Paulina asked with a slight smile, 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, trying to ignore the whispered conversations going on around him, the curious stares, the assumptions. He was the kind 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 locker door slamming it shut with a crash that rattling the whole isle, startling everyone. He leaned his head on his forearm against the lockers, looking away from everyone, their silent stares at his back.

-

Danny groaned, splashing water on his face in a futile attempt to pacify the microscopic construction workers hammering down on his brain. The nurse coughed lightly from her position near the door and he quickly wiped the water from his eyes with his forearm before sending her an assuring smile.

“It’s okay; I was just a little exhausted is all.” He said and she nodded.

“Your parents are on a call just outside city limits,” she informed him, “they’ll be here in an hour or so, so go get your things. When you get home, go straight to bed. No games, no TV, no reading, and no homework. I’ll give your teachers a note to excuse you until tomorrow.” She turned to leave the small nurse’s bathroom but stopped. “Paulina stopped by when you were asleep to remind you of the shopping date, don’t go if you’re not up to it, they can be very energetic when at the store, and Mr. Baxter will be there with them.” She almost curled her lip at the name.

Danny thanked her, reassuring her once again that he was simply tired and Dash had absolutely nothing to do with it. Though he highly doubted she wouldn’t bring it to the principal or Lancer’s attention, and they would probably all end up here again tomorrow for more analysis.

Gad damn it all.

-

There was nothing more absolutely unnecessary in Dash’s life right now then basketball. Sure, maybe football would have had a slight hold on his schedule even with the Danny Phantom thing, but basketball had always been a filler sport, something to do when he wasn’t doing anything anymore, and gradually had become a fun pastime.

It was like Lancer told him in freshman year when he talked about joining the team, Basketball may be a great ‘sport’, but football was a lifestyle.

It didn’t help that during practice Dash’s coach and team members were giving him appraising looks, totally non subtle appraising looks. As though now that a newspaper article, in the GOSSIP column, said he was gay he’d suddenly wear rainbow rubber wristbands and have a lisp and dye his hair unnatural colors, like blue or flamingo pink, though he was seriously considering going brunette for a while junior year, Paulina and Star said brunettes were sexier after all.

He wasn’t so agitated about the looks, he’d be giving them too if he had read something about his teammate that surprised him, it was the thought of Danny Fenton, the towns god damned hero, lying on some stiff cot in the infirmary that tweaked at his nerves. He had tried to visit after math, but the busty nurse, whose first name was probably Olga or something like that, had given him the evil eye and showed him away.

Dash knew school nurses, like science, math, and music teachers, didn’t particularly like jocks. He wasn’t really surprised to be turned away, when the popular, successful, and rich sports players got hurt they were sent to their private doctors and massage therapists, not to some underpaid school nurse. Not to mention he had sent his own fair share of losers to her door throughout the year.

But just because he expected it, in some disconnected portion of his mind, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be pissed about it. His hero and ward was laying, looking for all the world like he was unconscious when he had glimpsed him through the entranceway, in that cold room without anyone in there to keep him company but an overbearing burly nurse with a voice like a little too much sugar in the coffee.

“Baxter, get your head out of your ass and get back to work!” Mrs. Tetslaff shouted and he almost tripped over his own feet, startled out of his thoughts.

Shaking his head he focused on practice. He couldn’t keep worrying about Fenton like this, he’s a big kid, or rather a scrawny kid, but he could take care of himself and had been doing so for the past, what four years? Longer? When did Danny Phantom first start to show up? Whatever, he had his own problems to worry about, and his own burly woman to be weary of.

“Baxter!”

The yell rattled his brain, shaking out all the loose parts and focusing him perfectly on what he was supposed to do.

The last thing he should be doing was basketball practice, but it was the only thing he had left that he could get lost in.

-

Danny knew he had promised that he would go straight to bed, and that was exactly what he had meant to do, exactly what he had wanted to do, as he practically crawled up the stairs to his room. But somewhere between stripping down to his boxers, because sleeping in his jeans made him uncomfortable, and actually reaching the bed he made the unfortunate decision to look down.

And now he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror contemplating the horrific changes happening to his body. A deep breath, then another, god he had seen moldy black bananas that looked healthier. He was a walking lattice of discolorations, slashes of black and angry red with just the barest hint of green edging around it all like an ectoplasmic glow. It reached down his torso, where the original smattering of bruises had formed, and dipped low around his waistband, hovering there as though afraid to delve deeper, or had yet to have the time, then streached up across his chest towards his shoulders and down his arms like thick veins of pollution until it brushed the tips of his fingers, thin little wisps of black lines looking for all the world like felt-tip pen tattoos done in usual teenage boredom. The only hint of purple left on his body was the welt that had come from the crashing blow of the projectile, and that had become brighter and more disturbing with the rest of his body, like some jewel in the center of his being. Before long, he’d be darker than Othello.


Danny felt the scratching thought at the back of his mind, like a dog begging to be let in, that he had some strange ghostly version of gangrene, but discarded the thought, this was something far different.

He had lied to Dash and his friends when he had told them all it didn’t hurt, it did, horribly, but not at all like a bruise. Danny couldn’t quite explain it, he had always had a high pain tolerance, what with ghost fighting and bullying and just basic accidents that happened around the lab, but this pushed his limits. He flexed his hands and felt the sharp prickles of pain shoot up through his arm to grip at his chest.

Removing his boxers Danny saw that the discolorations would no doubt take the same route as his shoulders, stretching down his legs along the upper lines of his bones and spreading out from there, the thought disturbed him and he quickly grabbed a robe, covering himself from his own searching eyes.


Grimacing he walked over to the tub, plugged up the drain, and turned on the tap at its highest point of heat. He made an attempt at shouting down to his parents that he was getting in the bath, but all that came out was a hoarse gurgle.

Fear and fatigue had clogged his throat.

Knowing that they would hear the water running and come to their own conclusions he turned his attention back to himself. It was so easy these days, transforming, like going intangible and reaching into his locker, he barely had to think about it anymore, sometimes not at all, and it would happen. So when he shed the bathrobe, not wanting it to go through one of the very awesome, but slightly annoying, changes clothes and various other apparatus went through when he transformed while connected to it, it was satisfying to see his bare feet already clad in squeaky, white rubber boots before it even touched to the floor.

When the tub was full, and the steam was sure to last a long enough time to give the right impression, he dropped a bar of soap into the water to give off the ‘bathing smell’ and sailed through the roof.

The pain in his body flared whenever he moved, and the dizzy feeling he had hanging over him since Dash first realized how to release him from the Thermos that morning kept sweeping down and clouding his mind, but all that for him just seemed like a typical day.

Which could pretty much meant he wouldn’t live past his thirties if this kind of stress was viewed as normal for him, just as well he didn’t mind so much as long as no one attacked while he was this messed up inside.

Actually, Danny stopped and hovered above the city, crossing his arms, brow furrowed in thought, up until a few days ago ghosts cropped up like usual, a few stray one-timers not yet expunged from their usual haunts, a couple ghost-zone escapees whose names and faces he actually bothered to remember, if mispronounced and/or mixed up, and the occasional actual big battle with people, err ghosts, like Skulker, or Ember, or someone equally challenging, but still as uselessly time consuming.

Lately it seemed, if he could get away with one more cliché in his superhero career, a little too quiet.

Other then the shambling legions of the unruly, nobody seemed at all interested in destroying him, or capturing him, or tearing him limb from limb, aside from his parents of course, or even taking over the planet, well Amity Park at least.

“Wonder what everyone’s up to.” He questioned aloud, scanning the bustling streets of his town. “Guess I could always go check up on things in the Ghost Zone, but it’s not like it’s all that uncommon for them to take a few days off.”

It was true, after a few good battles, usually something big that either saved ghost butt, or pretty much pummeled everyone’s collective ghostly morale, many of the bigger, badder, and more frequent ghosts took a bit of time for planning, forming alliances, creating new techniques, or just relaxed, leaving him with nothing but small fry down at the docs, and the Box Ghost, to deal with.

Yet even the annoyances that were harbor warehouse hauntings, and the Box Ghost, were nowhere to be found. Danny, in all his years of ghost fighting, had never had such a long period of rest. There had always been some kind of nameless blob of ectoplasm wreaking havoc somewhere, but not here.

Not for almost four days.

Just those rotting specters and their creepy appearances, and they only came up twice, and only the first encounter could accurately be deemed hostile, not that he didn’t file scaring the afterlife out of him under reason to kick ass.

And that dream. The ghost in the restaurant had born such a strong resemblance to the boy in his dream, to him in his dream.

Had they somehow synced up and he experienced the ghost’s death? It would explain things, and the ghost might not feel hostile towards him anymore, if they had felt hostile towards him in the first place.

Hi shoulders slumped. He was far too tired to bother thinking about all this alone, he would just have to wait until Sam and Tucker, and unfortunately Dash, to come over after school so they could put their heads together and figure out the mess.

He wouldn’t show them the marks though, that would just worry them and he’d have to listen to Sam mothering him and Tucker being all uncomfortable and concerned, and needless to say Dash would throw a bitching.

No, he could not handle Dash’s fan-boyish level of concern right now when he had strategizing to do.

He looked down at his gloved hand, clenching it into a tight fist level with his clavicle, feeling the searing pain rush up and embrace his heart in hot fire. He could almost picture the lines striking through his hand, pulsing with dark energy like some anime-like affliction. With a sigh he let his hand fall back to his side and began drifted off in the direction of the docks. He could always try to check out some of the warehouses and catch up on the local ghostly gossip.

Translating of course into beating the crap out of some spirits until they coughed up answers as to why it was so quiet.

-

Dash and Sam sat opposite each other in fifth period, eyes locked, fiery determination raging within the sockets turning irises to bright embers and furrowing brows down in deep concentration. The tension had been bubbling up for the majority of the class time, the teens having been sending furtive glances filled with purpose towards each other with the unmistakable message woven between the casual lock of eyes. There would be no mercy.

Tucker glanced nervously between the two, eyes darting back and forth in worry and apprehension. He had expected it to get a bit competitive between them; it was after all their very nature to fight one another even before being thrust into this situation, but this clash of wills went beyond even his calculations. It seemed everyone in the room was waiting for the next move.



“Three of hearts?”

“Go fish.”

“Damnit!” And the tension dissipated.

Tucker let out a sigh as the move was switched to the next person in their group, Lester, who never did get the whole idea of Super Go Fish.

“Got any aces Tucker?”

“Ace of what?” he asked. Tucker had all four types of aces in his hand at the moment and knew from the previous circles that Lester only had an ace of spades, Dash had the ace of hearts and of clubs, and the ace of diamonds was still in the deck, but he still felt the pricking need to ask the question.

“Why do I have to say what ace it is? Shouldn’t they all work the same?” The small group groaned once again, they had explained this to him five times already.

Website Design fifth period had to be the most lax, restive time of the school day, not because it was an easy class, but because the period was filled with tech geeks and popular kids, all of whom already had personal websites and learned how to operate Dreamweaver early on, and as such finished the textbook, if you could call it s textbook, before the second semester had even started.

Problem was the school district network filtered out big bandwidth eaters. So MySpace, Gaia, Hi5, YouTube, and other such teenage necessities were inaccessible to the populace and so unless the teacher had some wild hair up his ass or the principal or some evaluator came in, the period was mostly passed with fifteen students, give or take depending if the slacker dropout wannabes attended, finding some way to relieve the boredom.

Thus why Mikey, Lester, Tucker, Dash, Sam, Paulina, and Melvin all sat in a circle on the big square meeting table with a deck of cards between them, a considerable change from the rounds of solitaire they were used to doing at their respective computers.

“Super Go Fish means you have to have the exact copy of the card Lester.” Paulina answered in an annoyed tone, even she knew how to play this game.

“But why?”

“Because it makes it more interesting.”

“Why make it more interesting? Its Go Fish, it’s meant to not be interesting.”

He had a point, but when you have almost a complete hour of nothing to do but stare at your desktop and listen to a playlist, making even a boring game of Go Fish between classmates a slight bit more entertaining was welcome.

“Just say what ace you have!” Sam snapped and Lester asked for his ace, Tucker gave it to him, Lester then asked Paulina for a card she didn’t have, drew from the deck, and then Tucker proceeded to ask Dash for his ace of hearts, which Dash grudgingly handed over, and the game continued on from there.

Fifth period was the most lax and restive period of the day, but god was it boring.

-

The docs were strangely deserted, even for early afternoon.

Not deserted of citizens, there were plenty of those meandering about doing various odd jobs only people who worked down at the docs really understood; rather it was completely devoid of all ghostly presence. Which, in Amity Park the most haunted city in the United States, if not the whole flippin world, said quite a bit.

He slipped in and out of the warehouses quickly, only staying inside long enough for a quick glance through and a chance for his ghost sense to react. Nobody bothered to stop him, even when they did catch a glimpse of him zipping through the walls; they were well used to him at the shipping yards. In fact it was probably the most popular place for him, second only to Casper High itself but since that was just full of teenage fans it really didn’t count. With all the ghostly activity at this place it was hard to get work done, Danny Phantom had always been welcome to come down once or twice a week to straighten things out and apprehend some of the spiritual populace. Not all of course, there were some permitted ghosts, like ghosts who prevented drowning and who led ships to safety on stormy nights, all that clichéd yet hilariously true sea men stories.

After giving a thorough, and time consuming, check of some of the more popular ghostly hangouts in the vicinity Danny admitted defeat, swallowed his pride, and headed down to the break area, not a designated sector for breaks, but rather a place where the workers simply congregated.

It was actually just an old lot where a moldy warehouse once stood but was torn down when the roof collapsed, they had never rebuilt it and as such there was this big vacant lot stacked with empty miscellaneous crates, equipment, and other such nonsense. It was always loud and playful, especially on a nice day when people were well past their early morning grumblings and far from their late afternoon exhaustion.

A couple guys called out to him when he landed, ghostly tail splitting and taking the shape of two long legs and squeaky white rubber boots in a slight flash of light, and he waved to them in response, heading in they’re direction.

“Anything lately?” he asked casually, proud that the worry and weariness didn’t invade his voice.

“Naw actually, not a spook. Strange, even that overall fella been missin.”

“Box ghosts too? That’s strange.” Danny ran and hand through his hair. “When did everything quiet down?”

“Friday night, the big storm was the last we saw a any of ‘em.”

“Ol` Jan usually hangs around the Pioneer those rainy nights,” another man said, “but when we went up ta greet her she weren’t there.” The burly man jutted a finger out to the old boat dragged up onto the roof of a big warehouse. The Pioneer was a sunken wreck that had surfaced one rainy night bringing with it the ghost of an old fisherman’s wife. She didn’t do anything really, harm or good, but just hung around her boat ever now and then and scoffed at the workers. The guys had taken a liking to her after a while, said she was like a stubborn old boat, Danny never did get the metaphor.

“Yeah, Jan doesn’t always show herself these days, but she’s always around on rainy nights, gets real edgy.” There was a crowd now, everybody talking about the strange disappearance of ghosts. “But she wasn’t there.”

“All dem other ones who get riled during the showers weren’t causing nothing either.”

“Every crack was calm and quiet.”

“Even that weird one with the crates.”

“Yeah, and we just got some new ones too, surprised me he wasn’t looming.”

The Box Ghost missed the new shipment? Something wasn’t right.

As much as the doc wished there weren’t ghosts around, they had gotten used to having them. Amity Park’s Harbor, completely ghost free?

“Something’s not right.” He repeated aloud, immediately flying up and zooming off, leaving the workers to chat amongst themselves.

Figuring he’d gathered enough information for the moment, and that his bath was probably cooled, he headed back home to get some rest and try and figure what the disappearances meant. They may not mean anything at all, may not be linked in the slightest to the zombie ghosts and his discolorations, in fact all three could be completely unrelated and he could be going though just yet another weird ghostly metamorphosis, like with puberty when his powers had practically developed a mind of their own for a few months.

But then again, they could all me tied together, and he could be heading straight for yet another big boss battle with some knew unknown ghost.

Back in his bathroom he breathed in the smell of soapy bathwater, a bath really would be nice. Pulling off a glove he tested the water, just as he suspected it was cool, but that was fine, he had taken a quick shower that morning and was relatively clean. Glancing at the small likes on his exposed skin his swore. A bath may be nice, but all it would do would be remind him of his bruises. With a frustrated grunt he pulled the drain plug, toweled off his hand, and shoved the white glove back on.

He had to figure this all out, before things got nasty.

There was a knock at the bathroom door, startling him.

“Danny? Sweetie you’ve been in there for a long time, did you fall asleep?”

With a start he quickly transformed back to his human self, the misty air hitting his bare skin and raising the goose flesh from wherever it lay dormant within him.

He had completely forgotten he was naked under the suit. But by then the doorknob was already turning.

He had barely managed to grab the discarded robe when the door opened and his mother stood in the doorway, a worried look on her face, Dash, Sam, and Tucker in the hallway behind her peaking over her shoulder.


“Do you mind?!” Danny screamed, his hands flashing in front of him to close the fabric, hiding the marring discolorations and his nudity.

“Sorry!” His mother quipped quickly shutting the door and marching off towards the stairs. “Wait for him in his room kids, kay?”

Tucker coughed and started to head off in that direction, walking a few paces before he noticed the absence of companionable footsteps on the hollow floors. Glancing back he noticed Dash and Sam were still standing there, staring at the door.

“Uh, guys?”

They cast a quick look out to each other with a blush, then turned to follow Tucker, who rolled his eyes heavenward.

Why was he always the one to have to notice this crap.