Author: Alicia of the Temptation.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, materials, etcetera, are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is, in no way, associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Title: Free-Fall.
Rating: Teen.
Fandom: Danny Phantom.
Summary: Maybe, if he would calm down. Maybe, if he would breathe. He'd feel better. But, he doesn't.
Word Count: 796.
Warnings: AU. Disassociation. Depression.
Notes: No free-falling this time, friends. But, there are other things. If you feel uncomfortable any time while reading this fic, please leave. I wouldn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable because of my writing. But, if you don't feel uncomfortable and read my fic, then I do hope you enjoy it.
Breathe
Maybe, if he would calm down. Maybe, if he would breathe. He'd feel better. But, he doesn't. He just doesn't feel good right now. And the worst part is being unable to do anything about it at the current moment. All because of some stupid lesson on essay structure in Lancer's class.
Danny sat in a different desk, looking down at his half-written notes. He hadn't looked up from his papers for the entirety of class, but the stillness he held in his seat wasn't unusual for him. At the beginning, Danny noticed how unsettled the other students looked around him, how they looked at him when he was too still, too quiet. As if he wasn't a freak because of his ghost-hunting parents, his stillness made him worse.
He tapped his fingers slowly on his desk, listening to the soft taps of his fingertips on the wood, and feeling the pressure of each tap.
Why did he have to feel this numbness? The worst part wasn't feeling inhuman; the worst part were the days he was human all day and all night, and he still felt so damn terrible. His head felt like he was underwater, and his hands were moving automatically, rather than under his own control. He felt like he was completely underwater, actually. Inside a fish bowl, floating in the water. Everything and everyone in his life were hands poking at the glass of the fish bowl, tapping and making endless noises to get his attention. But, he wasn't registering any of it.
Danny blinked slowly, and finally looking up at the front of the class. Apparently, the bell had rung, and everyone was already out the door, finally leaving after the long day. Mr. Lancer was erasing the board, mumbling to himself as he cleaned.
Danny sighed, and picked up his notes and pencils. Another school day, another class he completely missed a lecture on. A part of him wanted to care. He was almost expecting to master duplication just to have that duplicate scream at him, "Why aren't you fucking doing anything?!"
He almost wants to yell, "Because I feel like I'm drowning!"
"Mr. Fenton?"
Danny looked up at Mr. Lancer, noticing the man's gray eyes looking over him. "Are you alright, Mr. Fenton?"
Not at fucking all.
"I'm alright, Mr. Lancer. Just haven't been sleeping very well. I'm pretty tired."
Mr. Lancer's eyes narrowed, and Danny felt a block of ice lodge itself into his stomach. If Lancer could catch how he's feeling –
No. No. He can't know. No can know. No one can ever know. He needs to be strong for everyone in this forsaken town.
Danny walked past his teacher before the man could ask any more questions. He didn't look behind him as he left the class, so he never noticed Lancer's brows furrowing. There was concern and curiosity in that stare, but the man did nothing more than sigh and return to his desk.
Some of the bad parts of his day were normally at the end of it, when Danny would walk down the hall to find Sam or Tucker, or both, waiting for him near their conjoined lockers. Tucker was out because of food poisoning. "No thanks to that all-meat diet of his!" Sam chuckled that day.
Sam waited for him with a smile on her face and, for just a moment, Danny felt a little better. She wasn't as observant as Tucker was, mainly due to always being in her head herself. But, that's what Danny liked about her. Sure, she could prod him just as much as Jazz. But, on days where she's always thinking something good, something bad, or something boring, she remained as clueless as he could be.
He needed people to be clueless, so they don't know he's actually drowning. So they don't know he's sinking, and he can't come up for air.
"Hi, Danny. How've you been?"
"Just tired."
Just tired. I'm just tired. If he had to repeat that one more time, he's going to scream. But, what can he say other than that? What would his friends, his family, his teachers, would say or think of him?
Danny curled into a tight, little ball in his bed. The covers pulled over him, and only his eyes and nose were visible.
He was tempted to fly out his bedroom and fall back down to the ground as a human. Tempted to feel that rush of adrenaline hit his system and remind him of how human he truly was. How real everything around him was. How real danger was to even a half-ghost.
But, he was just too numbed out, too sore, too fucking actually tired right now to even move from his bed.
I'm just tired.
"Danny! Look! Vladdy's here!"
Oh. You've got to be kidding me.
And now, he felt worse.