He was standing alone in the hallways, school far past over as he simply stood there and thought to himself, not having the sense to lean against the lockers. No, instead, he was staring blankly at the wall as he mulled over his thoughts, trying to keep them from getting the better of his actions. It took a few minutes, but he snapped out of it when he realized that the roar of kids grabbing their backpacks and homework from their lockers and stampeding out of the school was replaced with an eerie silence as he turned his head back and forth, trying to catch sight of any strays that had lagged behind.

Upon being met with empty classrooms and hallways, his shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh, the straps of his backpack sliding down his arms with them. He glared down at them in annoyance before roughly tugging them back up, noting the green light that bounced off of the material - right now, he just didn't care. His best friends were enamored with this Gregor guy, and now he was ditched constantly by them. Yeah, he'd had his moments where he had ditched them in an attempt to be 'popular', but he'd quickly realized that was bust and vowed not to do it again.

But here he stood, despite his silent vow, alone again.

He was used to being alone, sure - everyone locks themselves in their bedroom after school. But he always walked home with Sam and Tucker. Always. The lack of their presence almost seemed to make the air around him colder, though he promptly pushed that thought aside. It was September, of course it'd be cold. As he began to head for the main doors that led out of the school, he could hear the buzzing static in his ears and head grow louder, closing his eyes against it - white, blue, red, black - before it gradually faded into a dull roar at the back of his mind.

Pushing open the doors, he was met with the sight of the two people he'd been missing - however, at the head of their little group was Gregor, who was pulling open the door for Sam. The buzzing was immediately back, dizzyingly humming along his fingers and arms. The two of his friends exchanged glances, a thick, awkward silence hanging in the air. Finally, Sam decided to speak for them, but Danny didn't want to hear it - not today. Instead, he hunched his shoulders and dipped his head like a predator would stalking its prey, but in reality, he was agitated and moping.

Over the past couple of weeks, he had watched them - invisibly, from afar. He was still convinced that the 'exchange' student was working for the Guys in White, but now? It was even more personal than it had already been before. Seeing them laughing along with him and sharing jokes and just being so normal and at ease planted a surge of bitterness rising in his chest, along with bile that he hastily had to swallow back, pushing back the flood of frustration and jealousy that snarled to be let out.

Tearing himself from his experiences, he realized he'd completely zoned out, halfway up the stairs to his room with one strap of the backpack hanging loosely where it had once been around his arm. He glanced back down at the kitchen, silently thanking Clockwork that his parents were gone for some ghost thing. He still had Jazz to worry about, but she was going to be at the library until 6:30, and it was only 4:34. Sighing, he closed his door and made his way to his bed, exhaustedly letting the remaining strap slide off his shoulder, causing the purple backpack to rest on his bed with a heavy 'thwumph'. Out of habit, he looked over at his computer, expecting a message from them, but to his dismay, he reminded himself that they weren't exactly on speaking terms.

Tucker was mad at him for spying on Sam and mentioning the kiss, but what else could he do? First, there's the possibility the guy could be working for the people who were trying to torture him and dissect him, and she goes and starts macking on him, just like that? His lips twisted into a disgusted snarl, canines showing beneath his lips before he calmed himself down, instead flopping heavily onto his bed on his back, the mattress shaking with his backwards dive as he lay there and wait for it to come to a stop.

When it did, he began to count the glow in the dark stars that his dad had helped him glue on the ceiling (very cautiously and with a small ladder, Jack sometimes holding up the younger Danny so he could reach). Each one gradually began to fade the memories of the day, and, eventually, the last few weeks. He was at thirty one when his eyes started to feel heavy, At least I can get some extra rest, he thought bitterly, rolling onto his side and away from his window where he could pick up the sounds of Sam and Tucker talking avidly if he focused hard enough. He started counting again until every star on the ceiling had been gone over twice, the light outside dimming as he finally shut his eyes.

The only thing Danny was currently aware of was the asphalt biting into his skin and the throbbing, all encompassing pain that had erupted only second before he hit the ground. After a few seconds, he lifted himself from the street, stray bits of black falling from him. He looked up to see where the ghost had gone, only to be met with the sight of two rockets heading straight for him. He only just barely was able to leap away at the last second, but the resulting explosion singed his suit and skin, making him inhale sharply, staggering as he tried to keep standing. Once the debris cleared, he was meet with the leering eyes of Skulker, and he glared back viciously. This fight had no banter, no humor to it - Danny was getting sick of irony and puns, quite frankly, because this was getting ridiculous.

He launched himself at the metal exterior of the ghost, fists wrapped in seething ectoplasm that seemed to writhe with the anger he felt at that moment, landing a swift uppercut to his jaw and dislocating the metal piece entirely, leaving him jawless - well, his suit, at least. He startled at a shocked gasp that seemed to come from the sidewalk, glancing over only to see Sam, Tucker, and of course, Gregor. Resentment immediately burned in him, but that was what Skulker was looking for.

While he was distracted, the older ghost had lunged forwards with a new device he'd managed to acquire, electricity crackling from the end of the odd prongs that poked out of what looked like some gun attached to his arm. This, however, proved not to be a gun, but more of a controlled stream of electricity. At the sound of the charge, Danny had whipped around, but at that point, it was useless. He was hit point blank with a strong wave of electricity, a strangled scream escaping him despite the way he bit his tongue so hard that it bled into the back of his throat.

It seemed like a century, but when it was finally over, he was left on his hands and knees, ectoplasm dripping from his mouth (he wasn't sure if that was from biting his tongue or the electricity, though chalked it up to 'probably both'.) and onto the pavement below. He shakily raised a gloved hand and wiped it away, ignoring the tense way that his friends were standing as Gregor watched with awe and shock, seemingly unable to take his eyes off the battle.

He felt the air begin to part behind him and quickly rolled to the side, a bright green blade lodging into the hard rock-like asphalt that he'd been lying on moments before, a quivering breath escaping the halfa as he watched as Skulker dislodged it slowly.

"Clearly, you've lost your ability," Skulker finally stated, retracting his guns and other weapons (Danny thought it was cheating, personally, with how many weapons he had, but the hunter declared that all was fair in love in war. He'd been shot at when he made a joke about the love part.) back into his suit as he hovered over Danny, who'd propped himself up on his arm and glared at him in response. The other ghost only chuckled menacingly in response, a much less than joyful grin expanding across his face.

"When you are at peak performance, only then will you be suitable as a trophy," Skulker announced, which seemed to startle Sam and Tucker from their frozen positions, glaring at Skulker. However, Skulker gave them an oddly pointed look, but it was quickly gone when Danny managed to fire an ectoblast at his chest, however weak it may have been. A frown replaced that expression, a sudden thought occurring to him as he looked down upon his prey.

"Whelp, stand up," he commanded, his eyes holding an unusual seriousness to them. He'd obviously noticed the halfa recoil like a snake, an angry remark of retaliation readied along with what little energy he had left. However, Skulker yanked him up by the collar of his HAZMAT suit, making him give a strangled gasp, his feet no longer touching the ground. The older of the two seemed to study his form intently, the boy unable to stop himself from shrinking under such an intense gaze.

Finally, he released his grip on him, letting Danny stumble as he regained his footing, pressing a gloved hand to a gash on his side as he glared.

"What was that all about?" He snapped, irritability clear in his tone - it wasn't out of the normal for Phantom to be snippy with those who attacked him, but he was clearly more frustrated and bitter than usual.

"Your form is sloppy," Skulker replied after a long moment of silence, looking back at the ghost boy, who seemed to be confused as he cocked his head.

"Hey, I'm no black belt but I could beat your rusty tin can any ti-"

"That was not what I was referring to."

This made him shut up, eyebrows arching in confusion and slight shock. When it became apparent that the child wasn't going to further question him on his own, the flaming ghost let out a rumbling sigh, crossing his arms and narrowing his gaze onto Danny once again.

"Your ghostly form is destabilizing. Surely you noticed the liquid running down your neck," He went on, gesturing to his form, which indeed looked somewhat like a melting opsicle at the moment, though not as badly as Dani had been. He glowered and wiped the 'sweat' from his brow, flicking it onto the asphalt where it dissolved into ectoplasm and turned into a gaseous state with a faint hiss.

"Great, so I'm losing my ghost half. Anything else anyone wants to tell me?" He spat between gritted teeth, fists clenched. He'd have to check if they had any ecto-dejecto left from dad's whole array of experimental weapons, though he doubted that his dad would keep it if it failed. If worse came to worse, he'd go to Frostbite or Clockwork, and if necessary, and only if necessary, Vlad.

"Your ghost form's appearance and health relies heavily on your mental health and mentality in general. You seem to be in a troubling spot, seeing as you're currently melting into the asphalt," Skulker replied, arching an eyebrow in amusement. Danny promptly looked down and yelped, absorbing the ectoplasm back into his body before glaring back.

"Whatever. Just..." He trailed off, finding himself at a lack of words at the new information - he had been going through a lot, lately, he supposed. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut and captured the ghost in a bright blue beam of light, sucked into the thermos without even a death threat. For this, Danny was thankful - he already had an unwelcome audience watching him, and he knew Sam would confront him right then and there.

So, he did the Danny thing to do and turned intangible, flying out of the area just as Sam began to shout.