I can't really remember what happened that day. Not a single thing as a matter of fact. A lot of people look at me weirdly when I tell them that. Yeah, it was a pretty traumatic moment in my life, but I was two years old, give me a break. You think I wouldn't like to know how I turned out that way? A cripple, handicapped and sick, meagerly subsisting on pills and experimental medicine for 14 years, and then off to risking my life every single day for people I don't even know? Ah, jeez, now I'm whining. See what you made me do.
Ahem, anyways, where was I. Oh yes, my tortured past. Well, I'm not gonna sugar-coat it that much, it did kinda suck. But as it so happens that I can't remember my life before my little incident, it wasn't like I really knew what I was missing. I didn't have any perspective to go on. Not that I have any now either. In fact, my perspective is probably worse now. At least when I was sick, there were still other people in similar positions. Now, well, you'll have to keep reading, I guess.
So it really did start 14 years ago. With the accident. You still paying attention here? Good. To get the full story you'd have to weasle it out of my parents (which probably won't happen seeing as I've been trying the same thing for at least a decade), consorting with the darkest of powers (again, not recommended unless you're prepared to give up your oh so precious soul), or somehow going back in time (if I have to explain why this is a bad idea with all the possible world ending paradoxes, alternate timelines, and accidentally crossing over into a world filled with colorful ponies (don't ask) then maybe you picked up the wrong tale to read here). In other words, you're royally screwed, I'm royally screwed, and cross dimensional traveling sucks.
I can tell you however that whatever happened that night made me what I am today. Or at least started it. It took a hell of a long time to get from there to here. Luckily for you, I'm just gonna skip to the point where things really started getting interesting in this place, glossing over a lot of key moments in my life, like being separated from my only friend, the fragility and struggle of growing up infected with highly concentrated ectoplasm, and even the necessary foreknowledge you're supposed to have about the spirits of the dead, because, well, it's frickin' hilarious. Just imagining that confused look on your face while trying to keep up still makes me chuckle. And because I'm lazy. It's really a win-win for me.
And did I mention that I live in a city? Yeah, Amity City, Supernatural Capital of the World. What? Expecting a little quaint town, in the middle of Supernatural Nowhere? Ohoho no, that would be way too easy. Nah, crank it up to insanity difficulty and set phasers for annihilation because everyone knows that the more the merrier. And by merrier I mean absolute chaos.
Hmmm… I think I've taken enough of your time, so without further ado… wait a second. Did I even tell you my name? No, of course I didn't. Well, it's good to meetcha reader, my name is…
XxX
"Daniel Fenton." Each syllable of my name was droned out with enthusiasm of a Phone Operator, enunciating every letter to its most monotone.
"Here," I replied with the same vigor.
"Grant Fiore…" The teacher continued, "Grant Fiore… Grant Fiore! Raise your hand!" One of my classmates near the back jumped a bit at that, him and his friends going silent from their discussion as they turned to the teacher.
"Uh, sorry, here, I'm here," Grant said. The teacher glared at him for a couple more seconds before finally checking his name off too.
"Valerie Gray… Valerie Gray!" He looked up from his list again to find said student still embroiled in a conversation amongst the others in her niche. A scowl cracked his already aggravated visage, and the aging clipboard croaked in protest under his grip.
I sighed tiredly as he began to chew all of us out for their disrespectful behavior, going on about this and that and pretty much just wasting time. Glancing around at the sterile world my class had entered, from its white-washed walls to the similarly clad scientists, I almost missed the synthetic taint in the air, something I'd become accustomed to over the years.
A familiar grasping sensation sprouted from my lungs, not really so much as painful as it was uncomfortable. Taking out my puffer, I shook it a couple of times, pressing the button and breathing the chemicals in. The feeling subsided.
Our teacher, having finally finished his tirade by that time, checked off the rest of the class with relative ease, finishing the last student in our alphabetical lineup just as a man dressed in a suit approached us.
"Valerie! Vally-baby! How's my little girl doing?" He rushed forward and enveloped Valerie Gray in a giant hug, seemingly not noticing her struggles to get him off.
Valerie turned a shade of red more commonly found on firetrucks as everyone around her started laughing. "D-Dad, s-stop it you're embarrassing me!" I blinked. Now that I looked twice I could definitely see the resemblance between the two. They both shared the same caramel skin and green eyes, and I guess the general facial structure as well, but you'd probably find more similarities with her mother in that area.
Mr. Gray kept his daughter enveloped for a few more seconds before finally letting her go, where she promptly crossed her arms and glared at him from a safe distance. He laughed it off good-naturedly, and turned to the rest of the class.
"Hello students of Casper High! If we haven't already met I'm Mr. Gray, Valerie's Dad." He smiled at his daughter, earning himself another glare as she continued to blush fiercely in front of front of all her giggling friends. Mr Gray chuckled and continued, "I can tell you're all in for a treat today! There's stuff going on in this place that wows me everyday, and I work here!" He broke off into another round of laughter, and despite his apparent goofiness managed to get most of the class to join in with how contagious it was.
That's when our worm of a teacher prostrated himself in front of Mr. Gray, practically scrapping at the floor as he thanked him on behalf of the school, himself, and all the Students of Casper High School for this great educational experience. I gotta hand it to Mr. Gray though, his expression didn't even twitch as he dealt with what was arguably one of the lowest life forms on the planet.
Annoying chaperone out of the way, Mr. Gray led us to one of the scientists that wasn't bustling around trying to look as busy as possible. This one was waiting next to a steel door that seemed more at place with a vault than a research laboratory. Clapping the scientist on the shoulder with gusto, Mr. Gray introduced him as Dr. Gauss, one of the leading researchers currently working there. Which was kind of surprising, considering he didn't look much older than us.
Adjusting his glasses, and shrugging Mr. Gray's hand off as well, Dr. Gauss started dissecting us individually with his eyes, causing many to flinch or wriggle uncomfortably as his gaze passed over them. They stopped for a split-second on me, registering stunned surprise as if he knew me, before they finally continued on to torment the rest of the class.
"Let us get one thing straight," he began suddenly, a superior sneer dragging itself horribly across his face, "while our security liaison, Mr. Gray, and the people that finance our work in this facility believe that showing a group of children around one of the most expensive and highly regarded setups for pushing the scientific boundary in the world as a good idea, I, do not. You will therefore through the course of your tour not touch anything, you will not interrupt me, or any of the ongoing experiments currently being conducted, and you will absolutely never leave the group at any time. Many sections of this department of research are dedicated to studying some extremely dangerous subjects, and should one of you happen to die or get injured it would severely hamper our ability to continue our work here. Do not let your stupidity get in the way of scientific advancement," he ended by turning around and walking away with a disgusted sniff, which may or may not have been sent in my direction. I could only guess as to why.
The rest of the class were a lot more vocal in their thoughts however.
"What a dick!"
"Yeah, what's up with this guy?"
"Isn't he part of our class?"
"No dumbass. He's some kind of genius or something. It was a big deal a couple of years ago."
"Sooo, he's like Doogie Howser?..."
"...Who the fuck is Doogie Howser?"
"What? Doogie Howser is that kid… that was a doctor… he was played by Neil Patrick Harris. Anyone? Ah, screw it!"
"..."
"..."
"...that guy was kinda hot, though."
Okay, now they're just getting seriously off-track.
"Ehem," Mr. Gray interrupted, "Don't worry about him. He's just a little bit miffed from the previous group we brought here." He pointed towards a hallway, a dual figurine of a man and a woman stuck in the wall a little ways down it. "That's the restroom, I suggest you use it now, it doesn't seem like you're going to get another chance. Meanwhile I'm going to get the rest of your tour cleared in our systems, and make sure the security measures are well and truly off. Don't want a repeat of last time, now do we..." He left off lost in thought, before departing from our group toward and leaving us with our teacher.
Very reassuring.
Everyone else clustered into groups while they waited. I just sort of stood awkwardly thinking about whether or not they would even show us any of the good stuff. Hopefully they would. I might even be able to get some good ideas to work on when I got back to my parents' lab.
"You're Danny right, Danny Fenton?" A voice questioned inquisitively from behind me. The question itself wasn't really a question though, more of a formality; I'm pretty sure everyone in Casper High knows who I am. But I played along anyways, like I always do.
"Yeah, me? Yep, I'm Danny. Fenton that is. I mean you can call me Danny! Not Fenton. Wait! No! I mean..." Holy crap how was I messing this up so badly. I might as well just encase by body in cement and throw myself into the sun before this gets any worse. I'd need to rework on of my spacecraft designs but I'm pretty sure I could manage it.
"Whoa! Whoa! Slow down there!" The girl (Freaking perfect I know!) looked familiar but I couldn't place a name with her face. She was around the same height as me, so on the short side, even for a girl. I probably weighed less than her. Heh, look at me. Making all the girls jealous. Ugh, even in my head that was bad.
"Well… Danny," she stressed, raising an eyebrow, "I'm Emma Knight. I run the school paper, The Phantasm, and I was thinking that writing about Axion labs would be a pretty good idea seeing as we're getting a tour of the place." Oh. Now I remember her. I don't think I ever talked to her before this, and me obviously being me meant there was never a reason to.
"Uh, yeah, sure, makes sense, I guess. But what does that have to do with me?" I questioned suspiciously.
"You're parents are scientists, right?" she asked, "you've got to have at least some inkling of all the stuff that goes on in this place. I could really use some help here."
I frowned, really concerned about the direction this conversation was going. "Yeah, they're scientists," I confirmed a bit hesitantly, "but not really the kind you're thinking of." And not exactly the most sane either.
"Oh yeah, haven't you heard?" someone interposed loudly, "His parents hunt ghosts!" Crap. Now that was one voice I really did not want to hear; preferably after the Earth revolved around the Sun several more times.
Sauntering his way over, the quintessence of Aryan Perfection inserted himself between us, basically taking my place and forcing me to backpedal into the people standing behind me. The thought of resistance barely even occurred to me as I lowered my head and tried to stay as unnoticeable as possible. Judging from the look in Dash's eyes though he was going to make this really unpleasant.
"I'm not even joking here," the quarterback raised his voice so everyone could hear him, "they're actual people that are completely obsessed with ghosts and dress up in spandex to go hunt them." Behind him, his ever-present group of followers began laughing in an annoying over-the-top manner.
Always the center of attention, it was no surprise everyone started regarding us more closely, scrutinizing us and waiting for their show to begin.
One of Dash's teammates Kyle Claybourne, who I'm pretty sure played wide-receiver, started guffawing. "Wait, that's actually true?" Kyle said in between chuckles, "I thought that was just a joke or something. I mean, that's just too ridiculous."
"Nope, it's all true, and get this; it's the best part." Dash leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "Fenton's parents are so fucked up that they're the ones that caused his accident, I mean, how screwed up in the head do you have to be to do something like that?"
I don't really know what I was thinking at that point, I was lost somewhere between pure rage and absolute disbelief, and all my earlier thoughts of, well... anything, fled my mind so completely that for a moment everything seemed to freeze, or at least slow down to the point where nothing noticeably moved. All the while something deep within me... I don't really know the words to describe it. It... awakened. Something that I knew in that instant had always been there with me for as long as I can remember. The power begged for release, I could feel it responding to my anger, thrashing and exploding, trying to drive itself free of whatever restraints were still holding it back and strike out at whatever threatened it. My chest tightened and my body felt as light as a feather, and for a moment I thought I could fly, unshackled from everything the world could possibly tie me down with.. And everything became so focused too. Things I'd never have noticed before dominated my senses relentlessly to the point I was sure I was feeling everything and nothing at the same time. It was the single most glorious experience of my life.
Then it ended.
The power, the sense, the time all retreated to its hidden corner in my mind, and I was brought back to normality so starkly that I didn't even know who I was and what I was doing. It took several moments for my synapses to start firing off correctly, my thought processes finally trying to make sense of what the hell just happened. The real world softly developed before my eyes, so muted compared to the wonder I'd gazed through, but at least it was familiar, a grounding force that reminded me to start thinking rationally again. Time flowed back to its normal speed, not snapping back instantly like it had first been stopped with, but sort of accelerating until it reached its usual speed, which was probably a good thing too, as it gave me the time to get myself rehabilitated. It's too bad that I still happened to be standing in front of Dash.
"Awww, is little baby Fenton crying?" Dash mocked, using that voice people speak to toddlers and dogs and the like with. Bringing my hands up to my face, I did indeed discover myself to be practically drenched with my own tears, right out in the open for everyone to see. Oh shit.
They all began pointing and gesturing at me derisively, save the few like Emma and some others who could only look upon me with pity. I wasn't sure whose hurt more.
I stumbled back drunkenly, it felt like I was relearning how to walk upright again, which made it all the more embarrassing as I zigzagged my way to the bathrooms, their laughs echoing through the walls around me.
I managed to find my way to the door of the bathroom, clenching my hand around the handle, twisting it open and throwing myself inside before closing it behind me to muffle the sardonic cackling that followed me. Sagging against it I slowly drooped until I was sitting on the floor, my head sheltered under my arms. What the hell was happening to me?
Looking up at the far side of the spotlessly clean lavatory where a large mirror dominated the entire wall above several motion sensing faucets, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't even know if I was alone, which was usually a prerequisite for dealing with these sorts of situations. You know… angsting, and stuff like that. Luckily, I had a good vantage point from my downed position, even able to see, uh, under the stalls… which I swear was not purposeful.
Making a mental note to wash my hands thoroughly as I used them to push myself off the floor, no matter how clean it looked, I sort of shuffled over to the sinks, swiping my hand under one of them to be greeted by a welcome blast of cold water. I let it collect in my cupped hands for a couple of seconds before splashing it over my face, rejuvenating me in a way that only seemed possible when they did it on TV. Taking several deep breaths to calm down my heart rate that had skyrocketed to danger levels sometime during my… episode. The uncomfortable grasping sensation returned in my chest, only this time to a much greater degree, like someone was strangling my windpipe really slowly. Fishing my inhaler out of my pocket, I repeated my routine again, except this time it took three full puffs of medicine laced gas to relieve the agitation. My full treatment at home would be agonizing at the rate I was going.
The grasping feeling stayed though, muted, but still constantly present like a bug bite you couldn't scratch. I scrutinized over every detail of my inhaler's ordinary appearance before squeezing my nail under its hidden latch to pop it open to its more interesting innards. Neon green ichor flowed through a set of intersecting tubes, constantly being pumped through a filter and back into its reservoir ready for use. Examining the dials located intermittently around the edges, I noticed the largest gauge was nearly all the way on the side branded with a single capital "E".
Looks like I'm going to have to refill this too. It's funny really, the very thing that made me the way I am now is the only thing keeping me alive. A chuckle filled with mirth escaped my lips, becoming just another tired sigh as I slipped my lifesaver back into my pocket to finally focus on my own haggard appearance. I looked as bad as usual, deep lines of weariness had etched themselves into the unhealthy, nearly translucent skin, giving me a hallowed empty visage, complete with full raccoon circles circumnavigating my dulled blue eyes. Disheveled black hair hid some of it, the unkempt mess of dead cells shadowing over my features to lessen the more severe details. It was sad, but I couldn't remember looking that much different than I did now.
By then I was sufficiently calmed down and rational, so I immediately focused on the weirdness this day had degenerated to, starting with the most pressing concern; my not so little freakout.
First, was I going crazy?
Probably. An incurable illness and years of school bullying had to add up, definitely enough to cause possible psychological issues. But for the sake of personal reflection and discovery I'm going to pretend my mental faculties are still intact. Partially intact. Whatever.
So, what the hell happened?
No clue. The best I can come up with that makes any sort of sense is an extreme panic or anxiety attack, spawning a hallucinatory effect that made me experience things that weren't actually real. Something about the whole situation told me that no logical reasoning had any part in it though.
Then, why did it happen?
It had to be something peculiar about me. Or maybe not, for all I knew Axion labs had a super electronic phasing decimator or something that emitted some sort of radiation or energy that started affecting me. But then why wasn't anyone else being affected by it? I'm sure that if it weren't for Dash and his friends unintentionally covering up my reaction as a response to their jeering then someone would have definitely noticed if I spontaneously began to cry and lose all sense of balance from a freaky hyperrealistic experience. Not to mention the dozens of employees who worked in this building year-round; plenty of opportunity for one of them to get exposed to the same hypothetical thing I did. And the timing was too perfect, the episode occurring almost exactly after my impromptu hazing, probably a direct result from the intensity of emotions flying through my head at the time. And the only thing I could think of that was special about me was the ectoplasm currently flowing through my entire body. Either way there isn't enough information to know for sure, and I'd just have to make it through the rest of the day to find out.
They only had motion sensing air dryers, so I had to wipe most of my face off on my clothes. I considered putting my entire face under it for a second after leaving a bunch cold water spots up and down my long-sleeve shirt, but I thankfully didn't go through with it. They had one of those super powerful Xlerators that practically rip the water off of your body, along with any skin that got in its way.
Enough delaying, I told myself, the sooner I got this over with the sooner I can just forget all about it. And who knows, a tour of one of the greatest scientific warehouses was definitely something to look forward to, even if I had to share the experience with some idiots that were annoying me.
Taking another deep breath, this time in preparation, I left the sanctuary of the bathroom. Everyone was still where they were before, except that Mr. Gray and Dr. Gauss had rejoined them at some point. They all seemed to have forgotten about me.
Trying to sneak back into the group I slithered slowly around them at a distance attempting to approach them from where most their backs were turned. I was halfway there when my teacher suddenly spun around, eyes locking onto me in surprise before he stormed over and grabbed me by the arm.
"Fenton! Where were you!?" he asked angrily, starting to drag me along with him. "While you've been off dillydallying we've had to delay the tour for you." Dillydallying!? Where the hell was this guy when I had to deal with Dash?
"Hey! Ow!" I exclaimed as his grip tightened painfully. He could at least be a little gentler about the whole thing.
"I hope you're happy with squandering your opportunities like this," he continued, "don't think just because of your condition you're entitled to special treatment. Do you see any of your friends acting out like you do?" He pointed to my class, waiting for an answer.
"But-" I tried explaining.
"I said, do you see any of your classmates acting like you do?" Looking at them, I saw a mix of expressions from the anger directed at our teacher from Emma, which was kinda nice, and and the malicious knowing grin from Dash that reignited my hatred for him all over again.
"Just let me-" I tried again, but it was useless. He didn't want to hear my opinion, he just wanted me to agree with him.
"One week's worth of detention, Mr. Fenton," he said vindictively, "right after school, no excuses. And don't think you'll be staying with us for our tour today. That's a privilege for the students who have earned it." He began pulling me towards the entrance of the building roughly, and I was almost sure I would cry of my own volition this time. The universe just had to hate Danny Fenton, it was the only explanation for why everything was so damn unfair.
"Hey, wait a second Mr. Reilly," surprisingly it was Emma who spoke out. "You think maybe you could make an exception, just this once?" She stumbled over her words a bit as everyone's attention turned to her, but she pushed through it, standing tall defiantly. "He promised he would help me out, with the school paper that is," she explained.
I felt my eyes widen as I stared at her in disbelief. Was she actually sticking up for me?
"Are you volunteering to join Mr. Fenton, Ms. Knight?" Mr. Reilly threatened ominously, trying to get her to back down.
Emma hesitated, glancing at me momentarily before smirking. "Yeah, I guess I am," she challenged.
Mr. Reilly opened and closed his mouth, but was left bereft of words. "You… You…" he finally managed, opening and closing his mouth in shock and frustration. He suddenly snapped his jaw shut, his whole body stiffening and the anger draining from his face completely until he more resembled a stoic sculpture than a short-tempered teacher. His eyes flashed a luminescent green and… wait a second.
I zeroed in back on his eyes with my full focus but they were already back to their normal unnoticeable brown color, if not a bit more dulled and emotionless than before though. He robotically turned his head back and forth, and peering down he stared at us unrecognizingly until we both started squirming uncomfortably. "You may continue," he said vacantly, releasing our arms and leaving everyone dumbfounded as he stiffly walked away.
"Sooo, I guess we're still allowed to go then?" Emma asked, rubbing her wrist unconciously.
I shrugged my shoulders, unsure myself. I squinted at Mr. Reilly's back suspiciously. It was almost like he was… no… It couldn't be. I looked at Emma contemplatively, trying to discern whether or not she saw it too.
She caught me staring and I quickly averted my eyes, a little blood rushing up to my cheeks, which was probably very conspicuous given my pallor. "What?" She asked, a hint of a smile tugging at her cheeks.
"Nothing," I said a little too quickly. "It's just that… no one's ever done something like that for me before."
"It's something I should've done a long time ago," she replied regretfully. "I'm still going to need your help writing that paper though."
I smiled. "I'm looking forward to it."
XxX
Author's Note: Sooo... yeah. It's been in my mind to write this for a while now, and it has been written, multiple times in fact. This is my rewrite of my rewrite of my rewrite and so on. Putting this out was kind of impulsive, this wasn't even supposed to be the full chapter, I'm just cutting it off here and finally posting it before I decide to rewrite it again. So tell me what you think... and ignore the Doogie Howser reference.