The light spring breeze drifted through the semi-open window, filtering the classroom with some much needed fresh air. The students sat at their desks; suffering in the uncomfortable, muggy heat that came along with the changing seasons. Some of the students sat up straight, listening intently and taking notes as the teacher read out scripture as fluently as a priest would recite passages of the bible; with passion and knowledge. Others however, sat on their technologic devices planning events or checking up on their social network profiles, completely oblivious to the importance of classical english literature.

The bald, overweight teacher leaned against his desk facing towards his students. His shirt collar was open and his tie lose so he could cool himself down. His legs were crossed over and he pressed one hand against the desk for support while clutching a book in the other; a piece of his personal favorite collection. For the English teacher had nothing but admiration for the literary arts and was now trying with all his ability to pass along the great inspiration to the new, and uninterested, generation.

With his eyes on the book, he continued to read out passages. He added his own personal commentary after what he considered to be a very important note of how the author has intently used descriptive devices to illustrate social stigma, or how they have used repetition to focus on certain points of the book that held significance and foreshadowed what was to come.

His voice changed with the tones of the book as he got absorbed between the lines. For those that were listening, it caught their attention and helped visualize the scene in a much more vivid way than they could comprehend; if they were to read the book alone. When combined with his own personal commentary, he could paint a pretty clear picture. It was one of his unappreciated talents that ,more often than not, went unnoticed by the disinterested teenagers.

He was cut off very rudely however by a loud, profound snore emitting from the classroom. He stopped abruptly, lifting his head from the novel. His eyes focused on the raven haired teen slumped over at his desk; his form moving gently up and down as he breathed. The rest of the kids snorted and laughed except for the self confessed techno geek and goth girl who looked over at the unconscious teen with concerned glances. They groaned in unison and tried in vain to wake him up.

The teacher calmly folded the corner of the page across like a dog's ear and placed the book down with the spine facing towards the class. They suddenly became quiet, realizing that this would not end well. When the teacher was mad, he was mad he would not shout. Instead, he would become strict and stern, which lead to an uneasy experience for the rest of those present.

He took exaggerated steps towards the desk; the heels of his smart shoes clicking against the worn tiles that had seen their years of abuse from being trampled over since Casper High first opened it's doors. Eyes watched intently as the teacher came to a stop at the front of the teenager's desk. He loomed over the teen and looked at him with a unamused face. He coughed once; not to clear his throat, but to draw attention to his presence.

"Mr. Fenton." He spoke with a loud but firm voice. At once, the teens eyes snapped open and he sat up a little too fast, causing him to wince and his breath to catch in the back of his throat. He tried to apologize but all he could muster was a cough as his lungs were starved of oxygen. The rest of the class giggled and mocked him, amused at the sight before them. The teacher's gaze did not falter from the youngster and he gave him a disapproving look.

"This is a classroom for education and learning, Daniel. It is not a bedroom and it is not for sleeping. That is what you do in your home and in your own time. From 7:30am to 3pm, you are required to be here; conscious and alert, to be educated. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr Lancer." His voice cracked in response, causing Lancer to raise an eyebrow at him. Hadn't the boy already been through puberty? Or was this a result of an illness? He dismissed his curiosity and concern; now was not the time for questioning. It was for discipline.

"That is the third time this term I have caught you...What was your pervious excuse? Listening intently with your eyes closed? I have warned you time and time again, Mr. Fenton. I want you to stay behind after class, so that I can have a word with you about your unacceptable behavior."

Danny groaned, running his hand through his tussled hair. He lowered his head to hide his red cheeks; clearly embarrassed. "Yes, Mr. Lancer."

"Good. Now please, pay attention." The teacher turned around again and proceeded to the front of the class. He took his position again and kept his eye on Danny for a moment longer before he turned his focus back to the page where he left off. He said one last comment that was aimed at all of the students, to serve as a reminder. "This is set literature for your examination. You are required not only to learn to the book, but also the plot, themes, characters and social normalities of the time. It is a lot to get through, so let's continue please; without anymore interruptions."

With that, Lancer went back to reciting the novel. Danny however, felt ashamed for falling asleep in class yet again. He sighed and sat up straight, despite his back screaming agony at him. He hated these stupid rigid school chairs. It was the last thing he needed after a night ghost fighting.

"Nice one, loser." The familiar sound of condemnation and misery spoke up behind him in a mocking voice and before Danny could even turn to address him, there was a thump at the back of his chair that jerked him forward. He slammed his elbows down against the desk to catch himself and prevent him from smacking his face against it.

The commotion caused the teacher to lift his eyes from the book once again. They bore down on Danny like a lion about to make it's slaughter. He certainly didn't like to be interrupted twice in the space of five minutes. "Mr. Fenton, Mr. Baxter. Is there a problem you would like to share with the rest of us, since you insist on interrupting me?"

"Oh no Mr. Lancer." Dash sat up straight in his chair and offered the man an apologetic smile. His persona suddenly change, to a charming young man that could fool many of the adults into believing he was as good as gold; that he would never hurt a fly. "I was simply explaining to Danny what he missed while he was sleeping so that he was up to date and understood what you are explaining, sir."

"Of course..." Lancer responded, his tone full of sarcasm and bitterness. Dash Baxter may have pulled the wool over the eyes of the junior teachers, but he was more than aware of his bullying tendencies. Unfortunately, due to Dash being so sneaky about his methods it was almost impossible to catch him in the act and respectfully punish him. Yet he knew from Danny's expression that something had happened. "Well Mr. Baxter, it is my job as a teacher to educate Daniel. So I will have to ask you to keep to yourself and refrain from anymore tutoring, so that I may continue my lesson."

"Yes sir. Of course." Dash said in response, folding his hands over one another as a way of showing respect. Lancer nodded and gave both boys a weary glance, almost as a warning not to do it again. He went back to the novel and it wasn't until Dash was sure the teacher was back in his zone that he narrowed his eyes and gave the raven haired teen a venom-filed glare. "I'll get you later, Fen-tosser. When the teachers can't protect you."

"Cut it out Dash." Sam glared at him, having had just about enough of his performance. "Leave Danny alone and stop being such a jerk."

"Shut up, you emo freak." Dash simply snarled back in retaliation. Sam just rolled her eyes at his pathetic insult and rubbed Danny's arm reassuringly. He looked at her from under his curtain of hair with a pitiful expression and offered her a small smile. She returned it but she knew it was fake. Something was bothering him.

The class came to an end with the ring of the bell. It echoed through the students' ears and brought them back to reality. They stood up, eager to stretch their aching limbs and get moving towards the cafeteria before all the good grub was gone. Sam and Tucker loitered behind the mass that was exiting through the door, casting concerned glances back at Danny. He arose from his seat awkwardly and pulled his backpack over his shoulder. Upon noticing their concerned stares, he just offered them a wave of reassurance and with that they were gone, leaving him alone with the disappointed teacher.

Lancer walked around his desk and lowered himself into the dated tan chair, leaning back. He pulled open his left side drawer and pulled out a thick, bounded folder and placed it on the desk in front of him before closing the drawer again. As the teen came to a stop at the front of the desk, Lancer flipped open the folder and updated himself with the most accurate information. It also gave him a moment to consider how to start this conversation.

After a moment of composing and planning his thoughts, he began to speak. His tone was softer than it had been in front of class; a compassionate tone. "Danny, this is becoming a regular occurrence not only in my class but with your other subject teachers as well. Usually we will tolerate the odd accident such as this, with you all being teenagers and needing the extra sleep. However, I am concerned. The frequency of your "accidents" suggest to me that there may be something more malicious going on underneath the surface, something I think you may be afraid to tell us."

Danny blinked for a moment. He was predicting that Lancer would have just gave him detention; the usual punishment. He had in no way expected this. His shock was evident and he paused before responding. "No Sir. I've just had problems sleeping recently."

"Uh huh." Lancer stared at him with such intensity that it made Danny squirm. He sat up in his chair and crossed his arms, intwining his fingers. "You see, we as your teachers are concerned about your welfare, although you may not believe that."

"Yes Mr. Lancer. I understand. I'm fine really, I just haven't gotten a good night sleep for a couple of weeks now..." The teen trailed off, having never felt so uncomfortable. He could only think of how similar this was to being strapped down on a lab table and interrogated. He felt trapped.

Lancer just sighed and rubbed his temple with frustration. This was never easy. Obviously, he would have to give up his authority. He couldn't be the strict and affirming teacher all the time. He would have to take a more reasonable approach to connect with the boy.

"Daniel, please." He addressed the child. "I've taught you for many years now. I am an English teacher. I break down characters and study every inch of their presentation and personalities every single day. Years of experience have taught me not to take things for face value. I also know that you are lying to me, Danny. I'm not mad, I just want to know why you feel like you can't talk to me. I realise that you all see me as the boring, lame English teacher. Despite what you think of me, I don't want any of my students to be in danger or to come to any harm."

By now, Danny's hands were starting to sweat and his normally cool demeanor was starting to crack. His heart beat a little faster in his chest and his eyes darted in any direction other than Lancer as he thought of what to say. Panic was starting to settle in and this bothered Danny. He could fly, fight ghosts and save the world but this one bald, average English teacher with a horrendous dress sense was capable of getting under his skin. It was unsettling.

"Mr. Lancer." Danny started, his voice threatening to crack again. The teen brought his hand to his mouth and coughed to try and clear his raspy throat. It burned, feeling similar to a desert. His body lurched forward as he coughed, causing him to hunch and reveal that he was much more frail than Lancer had first thought.

"Daniel." Lancer pressed his two index fingers together and brought them to his lip in thought. He tapped it repetitively; his foot mirroring his actions as he thought of what to say. "You are clearly malnourished and ill. Your grades are failing, your attendance is poor. I'm going to be straight with you. I don't want you to be worried or frightened to tell me Danny. Are you being abused at home?" He pressed the question, leaning forward to focus on the boy's reaction.

Danny opened his mouth to answer but instead of words, a ice blue wisp escaped his lips and his eyes widened. A chill went down his spine and he involuntarily shivered, crossing his arms. He lowered his head and thought about what to do. Why here? Why now?

Lancer stared at the boy with an eyebrow raised and stood up. He walked around his desk, coming to a stop beside the boy. Despite looming over him, he placed his hand on his shoulder reassuringly and leaned over to comfort the boy. His voice held nothing but genuine concern. "Danny, are you okay?"

He didn't get a response. Suddenly, a tremor rumbled underneath their feet and shook the building violently, causing Lancer to fall back. He caught himself on his desk just before he fell to the ground and exclaimed in shock. "Great Gatsby! What on earth was that?!"

Danny wobbled, but managed to maintain his balance. He ignored the teacher's question and without hesitation, rushed over to the window. Lancer blinked at his actions and proceeded after the youngster. He followed his line of vision but when he glanced out his eyes widened in horror and his body froze with fear.

That was when the emergency alarms began to blaze.