King Dash

A Danny Phantom fanfic

YAJJ

Special thanks to all who favorited/reviewed/loved my story Fourteen, which has received some of the best praise that I've ever gotten. If anyone likes hurt!Danny fics, then I urge you to check it out!

Ahem... now that the shameless advertising is over...

Date: 9/2/2013 12:30 AM

A/N: Curled up at home, bored, and thinking about how much I hate the new Freshman class more and more? Not such a good combination. And thus, this new story was born! I hope you all enjoy Danny's BA-ness.

Summary: Dash has been king of Casper High for too long, especially as a lowly freshman. A few senior boys decide to teach him a lesson. But Danny Fenton won't let them do it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, that's all lucky Butch Hartman. The four bullies are mine, but anyone can use them. They're stupid and unimportant. Except Joe Moore. He's mine and I kind of like his character. Find your own Joe!

Being the king of a high school at any given time really oughtn't have meant anything. You couldn't pass laws, you couldn't throw people in the dungeon if you didn't like them (though throwing them in the dumpster was the next best thing), and the only processions you preside over are Homecoming or Prom stuff, and even then you would have to be voted.

But there was something to be said for being able to control all of the student body just by being there. Especially if said king was only a measly freshman. Dash Baxter knew what it was to be king. He had been king of the middle school, he had been 3rd grade Class President, and there wasn't one day that he wasn't king of the hill in elementary school and daycare. He ruled his subjects with an iron fist: A-List to the front, losers to the back. Anyone with issues could take it up with Thunder and Lightning, Dash's fists (not that he actually named his fists...).

Being king as a freshman did have consequences, though. Ones that Dash had never dealt with. Unhappy seniors, who had waited four years to rule the school only to be trumped by a lowly freshman, for instance. Juniors and sophomores who would also have their places as king swept under their feet to leave them scrabbling for purchase by a young freshman.

It was an ordinary day in April. Ordinary for Amity Park, that is. Dash Baxter strode down the hallway of Casper High, his kingdom, with a confidence that he as a freshman oughtn't possess. He had totally owned Franklin High last night with his last minute play in basketball, where he'd knocked to the side one of the seniors who was about to make a wrong move and shot a three-pointer with four seconds left. Success radiated off of him like incense and he was soaking up all of the attention that last night's game was getting him.

"Oi! Baxter!"

Dash glanced to his right and noticed four guys approaching him. The one at the lead was the one he'd shoved over in the game last night, while the other three were members of the various other sports that he was in. He gave them his winning smile and lifted a hand in greeting. "Hey, guys, how's it going? We totally bossed last night, yeah?" he said.

The one at the lead, Joe, lifted a cocky eyebrow at him. "Dude, I know it," he said with a shrug, sounding outlandish about it. He crossed his arms in front of Dash. The other three guys circled around him.

"Eh... hey, Joe, what are you guys doing? Don't you have to get to class...?" asked Dash. Normally, he wouldn't care in the least whether or not someone was going to be late to class, but he was already failing science and he didn't want to piss off Mr. Faluca even more, and he was starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

The one behind Dash, Evan Rock, snorted. "Naw, man, me and the guys got a free period. We are open."

"That's great," Dash sighed. He shifted a little and made for an opening between Joe and Hanes, on his other side. "But I do have class, so I have to get going."

Hanes grabbed his arm and yanked him back into the circle with a bright grin, nearly sending him tumbling to the floor. "I don't think so, Baxter. We got some things to talk about with you."

"Can it wait until after school?" asked Dash, rubbing his arm. He shifted again as the other two pressed closer to him. "I really do have to get going." Above him, the bell for the next class rang. Dash cursed.

Joe grinned at him. "You're already late, dude, what's five more minutes?"

"Five minutes more on time than I will be...?" Dash offered pathetically.

Joe screwed up his face, glaring a little at him. "You watch your mouth, Baxter. Don't give me shit like that." He lifted up a hand and, before Dash had the time to register what was going on, punched him in the face.

Dash stumbled away weakly, looking at Joe with confusion. "What the heck, man? I'm on your team!"

"Yeah? Well, the team leader has decided that one of his subordinates needs to learn his place!" Joe got up in his face and laughed bitterly. "And, in case you hadn't figured it out, that subordinate is you. Get him, boys."

The other three were on Dash in moments, punching and kicking and pretty much doing to Dash what Dash spent all year doing to Danny Fenton.

Finally, after endless minutes of painful torture, Joe cut them off. He strode up to Dash, who lay cowering against the lockers. He crouched, letting him block the freshie's entire vision. "Learn this lesson, dumbass. You are a freshman. You are no more than the dirt on which we seniors walk. It'd do you some good to stay out of my way until graduation. Got it, Baxter?" he snarled.

Dash meekly nodded, his eyes wide. He glanced frantically between the four seniors, watching to see from whom he should defend himself next.

Joe grinned widely. He lifted his dominant hand to punch Dash in the face once more...

But instead found his own face meeting the tile floor. He looked up and leapt to his feet, snarling, "okay, who's the dweeb?!" He looked down at the ground.

There crouched the lowest of the low in the Casper High social food chain: Danny Fenton. The geek was not crouching like he was trying to make himself smaller like any self-respecting nerd would do. Instead, he glared at the senior with an intensity that scared all five athletes. Fenton had one leg thrown out, the other kneeling to keep him balanced. One arm pressed to the ground and the other was out carefully. Admittedly, he almost looked intimidating.

Keyword: almost.

"Ha! You don't scare me, Fenton. What are you gonna do, call your mommy on me?" said Joe, wiggling his fingers in mock terror. The other seniors around him laughed at the pathetic joke.

Fenton stood to his full height (over a foot shorter than Joe) and crossed his arms. "I don't need to scare you, Moore. Lay off of him," he snarled. His eyes flashed (green? What the hell?) intimidatingly. Despite his tiny stature, Joe took a step backwards when Fenton took one forward. The kid, holy balls, was scary, and he knew it!

"What did you say to me?" Joe recovered deftly. "Go ahead, brat, say it to my face!"

The younger gave a half-laugh. "What? Have I been speaking to your butt the whole time? Well, I'm sure the other end is prettier, anyway. Then again, the rear end of a cow is a fair bit prettier than you. In fact, I think that's an insult to the cow!"

Joe swung before he knew what he was doing. Even though he was certain that he'd landed a hit, he completely missed the kid's face, blowing instead through solid air as the boy grinned.

"What? Too fast for ya? Losing your touch, Moore? Look, just because any freshman could beat your butt everyday doesn't mean you have to get upset about it!"

"I'm gonna kill you, Fenton!" Joe screamed. He lunged for the brat, his arms outstretched

Fenton responded easily in turn. He lifted his chin, and then his legs, and then his entire body, and then he performed two perfect back springs halfway down the hall. No one could say that they were expecting that, nor could they say that they weren't impressed. "Gonna have to catch me first!" With a speed not unlike that of a cheetah, Fenton sped past Joe and found himself in front of Dash, facing three large seniors. The three were down in two seconds. Two of them rushed him and smashed their heads together when he easily dodged them both, and the other was flipped over his back. The three seniors ran away with their tails between their legs.

"How the hell're you doin' that, Fen-turd?" asked Dash dizzily, his eyes wide.

Fenton shrugged. "Lots and lots of practice," he said, squaring off with Joe. The much larger boy had hands who looked like they could smash Fenton's head like it was a tomato. Yet, he didn't seem afraid at all. "Come on, Moore. You afraid that two freshman are gonna beat ya?"

Joe snarled and lunged at him once again. He grabbed ahold of the younger boy's arm and prepared to throw him over his shoulder and pummel him into the ground.

That is, until Fenton clapped his captured hand onto Joe's arm, reunited his two hands, heaved and threw Joe into a wall. By that time, teachers and students alike were out, watching the scene before them, all wide-eyed with surprise at what Fenton could do.

Joe was down for the count. He struggled to get up to his feet, watching almost warily as Fenton approached him, anger and protective defiance shining in his narrowed blue eyes. He crouched until he was eye level with the struggling athlete. "Look, Moore. It's not Dash's fault that you aren't a star basketball player. It's not Dash's fault that you were going to screw up the play if he hadn't butted in. And it's not Dash's fault that you have to be a sourpuss about it. The only one at fault is you, so don't take it out on him. You could at least practice a little more. Maybe ask Dash for pointers, since he seems to know what he's doing. Though I doubt that he'd be willing now." He leaned over to poke Joe in the chest like an accusing parent. "Grow. Up. Leave Dash the heck alone. And go to the library or something on your free periods, don't come looking for freshmen to bully."

The snarl that left Joe's lips would have been threatening to anyone else, but Fenton didn't seem worried at all. "You're a dead man, Fenton. A dead man!"

"And the way that I beat you up today tells me that I have nothing to worry about." Danny stood and tipped a pretend hat to the older boy. "Now get outta here. Jerk."

Once Joe regained his balance, he made for Fenton until he realized that he was surrounded by shocked schoolgoers. Not wanting to aggravate any teachers, and considering how every one of them had probably just seen him get his ass handed to him by a weak freshman, he stormed away to the bathroom to clean up the bloody nose that he had received from meeting the wall.

The entire student body watched on anxious toes as Danny Fenton approached his constant tormentor. Every one of them expected him to turn on Dash when the much more athletic bully was at his weakest moment, to make up for a year of being bullied and beat up.

No one expected for Danny to go up to him and offer a hand. Though Dash looked a little wary - after all, if Fenton had that much power hidden behind a puny body, who was to say he wouldn't turn it on him? - he eventually took Danny's hand and let the much smaller boy pull him up - quite easily - to his feet. Fenton gave a nervous laugh and said, "you're a mess, Dash."

Dash glared at him for a moment before relaxing, remembering just who had saved him, even if he was a little late. "Yeah, well, you're one to talk," he said smartly. He puffed out an annoyed sigh. "Thanks for the hand, Fenton. That was pretty brave. How'd you do that?"

"Mom's a ninth degree black belt. I've had her show me a few things," said Danny with a shrug. "Sorry I was a little late. I had - uh - an 'unexpected mishap' come up that I couldn't get away from. You okay?"

An 'unexpected mishap'? What did that mean? Dash brushed himself off and poked cautiously at a bruise on his cheek. He winced away from it, feeling the sharp sting. "Yeah, I guess. I'm fine. Douchebags didn't need to do any of that..." he grumbled, glaring down at his hands. "And I shoulda been able to get them off! Why couldn't I get them off?" He clenched his fists tightly, angry at his own failure.

"Dude. They were all bigger than you. And there were four of them. Go easy on yourself. You can't expect to be able to kick everyone's butts all of them time just because you can beat up a little freshman."

A little freshman, thought Dash, who was apparently a lot stronger than he acted or looked. "But you did it!" said Dash.

"I also fought them off one at a time," Fenton argued easily. He brushed off his jeans. "It was like I was only fighting one of them. If they all rushed me at once, I don't think that I could have got them."

Dash opened his mouth to protest - Fenton had merely taken one step forward to take out two of the bullies - but then decided to allow the boy to be as humble as he wanted to be. Dash didn't really know why he cared, anyway.

Once Fenton finished brushing the dust from his pants and straightened out his roughed up appearance, he offered something of a comical bow to Dash and strode off toward the science wing. "Well, you and I have to go to class." He stooped and picked up his books from the floor. "See you around, Dash." He pushed his way through the dispersing crowd, lifting his chin almost proudly.

Dash watched in amazement as the whole crowd shifted to let him through. As though, if Dash was the king, Fenton was a noble, respected knight. But 'Fenton' and 'respected' were two words that Dash would never put in the same sentence. The same with 'knight'. Fenton was no noble, respected knight. That was for sure.

Well, it used to be for sure, anyway.

One of the teachers came over to ask if he was alright and escort him to the nurse's office, a hand hovering anxiously by his back. Dash allowed it; he was feeling a bit sore after the brutal attack and wasn't against taking a Tylenol and maybe skipping science for a real reason. At least that way, Mr. Faluca couldn't get on him about it.

After being given a Tylenol and told to lay in bed (the nurse had rolled her eyes at him and mentioned something about Fenton), Dash curled up on his side and looked at the posters surrounding him. Though this place was not a hospital, it still had that nasty sterile smell that Dash hated. But hey, it was here or in Faluca's class with Fenton, who could apparently totally kick his ass and now he (and several students) knew it.

Dash let himself reflect on what in god's name had just happened. This all would take some getting used to. He, Dash Baxter, the king of Casper High, had just gotten himself attacked, beaten to the ground. An attempt at his crown by the very people that he was supposed to trust. The seniors - especially those seniors! - were like his lords and ladies. They were the most trusted of his many followers, whom he had once thought would follow him to the death, so to speak.

And then they'd attacked him. And in his greatest time of need, the lowliest of all serfs, the lowest of the freshman class (who were at the absolute bottom of the food chain, no doubt about it), Danny Fenton had swept in and saved his ass from getting handed to him any easier. Quite easily, too.

Fenton was an enigma, that was for certain. That was the only thing that was for certain, anymore.

Maybe, Dash ought to try to get to know the newest, and probably bravest, knight in his kingdom. Maybe he ought to stop wailing on the nerd, especially since he had just saved him.

Ha, yeah right. Dash may have been knocked around a few times, but if anything was going to continue to make sense, this would do. Fenton would always be Dash's punching bag.

Thank you for reading! Please review! All reviews will, as usual, be answered via PM.

~Until next time,

YAJJ