Knowledge Is An Advantage (to some)
Caspar High, Lunch Break
The dark shadow loomed over him, hands clawing into the collar of his shirt as Adam felt his feet leave the floor, flailing in pitiful helplessness. An echoing bang of his back on the metal reverberated through the halls as he blinked blearily.
"Finally! It's been too long since I've thrown one of you dweebs into a locker. Lancer's too stupidly depressed about Phantom to care, I gotta grab the opportunity while I can." Dash snarled.
The dark blue eyed boy had tried to run out the lesson as fast as possible — Mr Lancer was weary still from yesterday — probably still coming to the terms about finding Phantom's death certificate. It was weird, to now put a face with the town's hero.
He knew Dash would be after him quickly. It had been clear the jock had resisted millions of times to insult him, shove him, punch him, and Adam had a slightest bit of hope that maybe he'd get away unscathed. In his dreams!
Dash didn't say anything else after that, simply taking another opportunity to throw a blow at his stomach, making Adam curl over, gasping for breath. Somehow, somewhere, he found the words through the courage of being injured.
"Are you oblivious Dash? Why do you think Lancer and the rest of us are sad?" He spluttered, rubbing his aching abdomen just before he was yanked up again by the back of his collar.
"I don't know! You're all acting stupid — we found the stupid records — and that's a good thing!"
Adam could only blink incredulously at Dash, mouth agape. He was partially right, it was good that they'd found the records — but to be so oblivious? They'd found the key to Phantom's past life, the horrific death and experiences he'd gone through, hiding it from his parents and still continuing to do so — and Dash called it stupid. There was no empathy.
Fiery anger burned in his stomach, and the dark blue eyed boy raged. All the pent up anger from the past few days, Dash's obliviousness, there was no care. Dash was only at the club because he idolised Phantom on a pedestal, not because he cared about discovering the ghost's life and paying respects to him. Phantom was just another comic book superhero to Dash.
'He's dead, Dash. Do you not get that? We found his death certificate, everything that shows his past identity, who he once was, and you can't even have one bit of remorse for the life he lost? You remember what Lancer said, he has a sister. How would your sister feel if you died, huh? Or how would you feel if your sister died?" He spat, it was a low blow, involving Dash's sister, but if it got through to him, so be it.
The grip on Adam's shirt loosened slightly as Dash turned his head away, pondering. Hope simmered in his heart, maybe finally he'd get through to the jock.
To his bitter disappointment, there was no look of realisation on Dash's face that Adam had hoped for. He seemed bewildered with a look of disbelief, then finally settling on anger.
"But I'm not dead, and neither is she. Phantom's a ghost, of course he's dead. He's probably over it by now."
Adam couldn't help the small cough of disbelief that left him as he blinked owlishly. Did Dash just say that Phantom was over his death?
"I doubt he is, or ever will be over his death. Not if he's still hiding it from his family! Phantom isn't just some cartoon superhero Dash, and you need to realise that! He has feelings, and he has flaws-"
"Are you saying he's not capable of being Amity's hero?" Dash narrowed his eyes, anger glimmering in his features. He was getting the wrong impression, again.
Frantically, Adam shook his head, kicking his legs wildly. He didn't want this to get worse than it was, he'd already provoked Dash enough. Neither did the fourteen year old want to spend another afternoon wedged in a pitch black locker, confined and trapped in inky blackness, no matter how loud his shouts, how much he pelted his feet against metal that wouldn't move, the space getting more constricting by the second, darkness entangled around his neck and compressing his chest—
"No! Please! Let go!" His breath was heavy as he shouted, a desperate edge to his voice. His hands clawed at his throat where Dash's were tightly compressed. He wasn't going to be put in a locker again! He wouldn't!
"Then what do you mean? Cause otherwise you're going in this locker, and I know how much you hate em." There was a devilish taunt in Dash's voice as his hands squeezed Adam's neck against the cold metal.
"Phantom isn't in-invincible." He spluttered and coughed weakly, "He's a h-hero, but that doesn't m-mean he doesn't get h-hurt. Ahh!'" Jolted up, Adam yelped aloud, Dash holding him firmly when the sound of footsteps traipsed down the corridor behind the two.
Dash turned his head, and Adam watched as he saw the figure of Danny Fenton walk down the corridor, looking exhausted and jittery. Somehow, he didn't notice either of them, especially Dash, who was now focused on glaring daggers at the black haired boy.
Suddenly, he was released, and the dark blue eyed boy crumpled to the floor as he felt the pressure on his throat release like a waterfall. He remained frozen, just in case Dash felt the need to turn back to him. Silently creeping behind the two, he snuck down another corridor, hiding behind the side of a stack of lockers and the wall, near the fire exit. There was no point going to lunch, Dash could find him again. Best just to lay low in the corner until the rest of the time was up.
"Now here's the least invincible and most flawed person I know. Fenturd. You decided to return after you ran a runner from me yesterday?"
Dash's voice faintly echoed down the corridor, and a twinge of sympathy ran through Adam's heart. If his beating had been as brutal as it was, he couldn't imagine what Fenton's would be like.
He waited, listening out for anymore shouts or footsteps. Fenton didn't respond to Dash's shouts, probably more focused on running, he figured. Dash was still letting out repeated yells for the boy.
All for not throwing him under the bus.
Albeit unintentionally, he faintly remembered reprimanding himself for considering throwing Danny Fenton under the bus into the path of Dash's bullying, then scolded himself. However, in a cruel twist of fate, it now seemed that way.
"I hope he's okay." Adam murmured to himself, kneeling down on the floor. Footsteps pattered around the corner. He stiffened.
Cautiously peering out, Adam braced to prevent himself from trembling, worried that it was Dash. To his relief and sheepishness, Danny Fenton trailed around the corner, with surprising grace and speed. The raven haired boy wandered a few steps back, once he was fully encased by the shadows, only the neon green light of the exit sign allowing Adam to see him.
Danny moved with ease, compared to yesterday, his shoulder wound now just a faded red mark, and his burn swaddled in a gauze that thankfully wasn't causing much pain except a slight burning twinge.
Danny could feel the anger build up in him, as Dash sprinted after him in the corridors. One mistake, and it'd all be over. He needed to get away.
It was too much, everything. His parents finding out, the club finding the wacko fake records, the event happening tomorrow that still loomed over in his mind, the assignment about himself with Valerie. It was too much. He needed a nice fly around Amity, to feel free of responsibility and watch the clouds drifting by. It wasn't as if he hadn't skipped before.
There was some guilt at not spending as much time with Sam and Tucker as usual, but he'd been too busy the past couple of days to even think about hanging out at the Nasty Burger or even going on patrol. They could manage without him. He couldn't manage without them, but he'd never admit that.
Dash and Adam had been talking about him too, something about Dash and his hero worship over him, which Adam persistently tried to dissuade the jock from. He appreciated it, but it wasn't worth almost getting strangled to death.
The whole situation was a mess really, Dash talking about his ghost half as if it was an angel on a pedestal, and somehow the club had managed to track down his ghost half's forged death records. Why did everyone need to know about him?
"I don't even know how they got them records. Why are they looking for them? And now Dash is worshipping me, while hunting me down. The irony of this situation is so bitterly stupid." Danny spat, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Even though he knew they'd gotten the records, they still refused to tell him why. Why were they doing this? Why did a bunch of them band together and start stalking him?
And now the jock that saw him as a thing to be worshipped, was hunting Danny down the corridors to stuff him in a locker. The irony was beautiful, really.
Adam blinked, catching a gasp that almost escaped his mouth as Fenton took another step back. Fingers digging into the cold metal of the locker, he ducked back as much as possible when the corridor illuminated a neon green, and Danny's eyes scoured left, and then looked to the right.
Did his eyes just turn green? Disbelief rattled in his head. No, Adam was just imagining things. Probably something to do with his parents and ghosts. Overshadowing, was it called?
He braced himself unknowingly, when suddenly, a bright flicker of stark white light illuminated the dark corridor, bouncing off the walls, making him wince and look away. Where had that light come from?
Turning and looking again, he found the source of the light, that was unbelievably radiating as a halo that formed around Fenton's waist. The light was bright, so vivid and radiant silvery against the mellow, waxen grey of the shadows that it burned his eyes. But Adam found himself fixated. This wasn't something he could look away from. There was an inkling, that this was majorly important.
Danny Fenton was an enigma, and this was it. The biggest secret in all of Caspar High. And he was a front row ticket to the experience.
Then the halo began to split? Such a trancing light that travelled up Danny's chest and down his abdomen. As far as Adam could see, there was nothing different, except a strange halo that Danny could form. But everyone knew Fenton was never really normal.
What was that? His thoughts screamed as the fourteen year old narrowed his eyes, trying to get a closer look. Between where the rings had slightly split, he swore he could see a snippet of black.
And it continued, the strangely slimming murky black began to follow behind where the halos travelled. Were his clothes changing?
And then, the halo fully rose above his chest, gone with a red oval, replacing it with a very familiar logo that almost made Adam collapse. His breathing was heavy, but he managed to catch it, dropping to his knees on the floor. It couldn't be..
That's Phantom's HAZMAT suit! I — how? What's going on?
Then the rings finally rose up, then simply disappeared into the air. Leaving white hair, green eyes, and a ghostly glow from where a black haired, blue eyed, human teenager had been standing previously.
"At least Dash won't hunt me in this form." Danny Fenton — or Phantom — said aloud, and launched into the air, disappearing and flying through the ceiling.
He could do nothing but stay silent and watch the spot where — Fenton — Phantom? — had just disappeared. A weak chuckle escaped his lips.
All for Dash telling him that he couldn't find anything out, and worshipping Phantom so badly.
Oh God, Fenton was Phantom. The hero that Dash worshipped to the heavens themselves was the small, geeky and wimpy kid that Dash had bullied since 1st grade. Fenton, Phantom, the son of ghost hunters. No wonder they didn't know he was dead.
He paused.
Fenton was dead.
The realisation of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. One of his classmates was dead, and had been living like that for at least near a year. Adam put his face in his hands. Despite being uttermost confused, things fell into place. Those records had to be fake — since Tucker Foley was friends with Fenton — who was Phantom — his theory of them making fake death records could have some legitimacy. Being fully identified yet his parents not knowing — also clued up to fake death records. Of course his parents wouldn't know, he'd be concerned if they did know and had Phantom up so high on their dissection list.
Maybe his sister found out a bit later, she couldn't have signed off the records. Why fake death records though? It was almost as if he wanted to keep people off his back.
Adam paused. This was obviously a secret, and Danny had gone so far to keep people off his back of his identity. He didn't want anyone knowing. And who could blame him? He was a ghost, his parents were ghost hunters.
A tiny tiny part of him nagged that this was the secret the club was looking for, that if he gave out this information then he'd be seen as actually having contributed something, and finally Dash would lay off his back. That would be great. No more being thrown into claustrophobic lockers, and actually being respected for finding out a massive bit of information—
But that wasn't fair. Even if it had been the secret the club was looking for, it'd reveal Danny to his parents, who hunted Phantom. It was a secret, otherwise Fenton would've punched Dash way earlier — Adam knew he would've if he had the strength.
And if he was dead, (who was he kidding, Danny was a ghost), then it wasn't fair for Adam to get in the way of that. He probably just wanted as normal a life as possible.
And even if it meant Adam was seen as the club member who contributed nothing, or thrown into lockers a few extra times to keep Dash off Danny's tail. Then so what?
He didn't need to prove himself to the club, or Dash. He didn't need to rely on the approval of others to feel confident about himself.
He'd try and make Danny's life that bit easier, he decided. Distract Dash away from Danny and focus on him instead. Not push the theories of the fake death records. Slip worksheets Danny had missed into his locker when he wasn't looking.
It would be worth it, in the end, if it meant Danny could have an easier life.
Football Field, Caspar High School, Lunch
Fenton had disappeared.
The dweeb wasn't anywhere to be seen, no sound of pounding feet or pathetically scared blue eyes. Dash didn't know where he'd gone.
It was like he'd gone invisible.
Barely suppressing his anger, Dash clenched his fists, walking to the front entrance of the school, to the football field. Harshly, he swung the door open, not caring as it groaned and creaked from such force.
It had been too long since he was prevented from taunting any of the nerds — for once — Lancer had actually noticed. All because of that Adam wimp wailing on him.
To his anger — Adam had also disappeared too. He'd scrambled after the jock had gone after Fenturd.
Dash didn't understand. The club had found the records they'd been mooching over, they should be happy, not depressed. Phantom was their hero — the ghost that was good and protected them no matter what.
And then there was Adam, all up in his face, telling him Phantom was flawed and hurt and was in pain. But he couldn't — he wouldn't believe it. Because Phantom was a hero, heroes didn't have faults.
Dash's thoughts trailed on as he ran down the steps, around the side of the school, to meet up with Kwan or any of the other football players. A good distraction.
Suddenly, somebody tumbled into him with a strangled yell of shock, both him and the person tumbling to the grass.
He turned, ready to sputter out insults and grab whatever nerd had knocked him over, hoping that no one was in the vicinity to witness that.
"Who do you think you are, you little shrimp?!" Swiftly, Dash grabbed the offenders collar and tugged them up, which was strangely cold under his grasp.
"I-"
An echoey voice replied, and Dash opened his eyes — he knew that voice!
To be met, staring directly at Phantom. He had the ghost — his hero — grasped by the neck of his HAZMAT suit, strung and pulled up like a fish on a rod. Phantom's gaze was one of confusion and alarm, his mouth puckered in lost words.
Almost instantaneously, Dash dropped the ghost.
Oh God — that was his hero! Embarrassment filled him. He'd insulted his hero and lifted him by the collar. Who knew what the ghost would think of him now.
"You're —you're Phantom." The boy murmured.
"Yeah." The ghost responded, taking a step back, as if to leave.
"Wait! Don't leave!" Dash exclaimed, and the ghost turned, head tilted in curiosity.
"What do you want?" The ghost turned fully, taking a few steps towards Dash. His eyes scanned the jock up and down, slightly wary.
"Well like, dude! You're our town's hero. You're awesome!."
"Thanks, Dash." The ghost bobbed his head, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Dash ignored this, and settled on the fact the the ghost remembered his name.
"Dude, you remember my name?" Dash gaped in awe.
"Well yeah, I dunno. You're not exactly hard to forget." The ghost's eyes narrowed in anger, and he gritted his teeth as he stared sideways. The jock blinked, perplexed. Why was the ghost acting like that? Had he done something wrong?
"Did I do something?" Dash blinked. Whatever he had done to the ghost, he would make up for it, he didn't want Phantom to be angry because of him!
"Did you do something?" Phantom put his head in his hands. "Did you do something?!" He looked back up at Dash, green eyes flaring poisonously, his tone of voice slick with anger.
Biting back a gulp, Dash took a step back. This was his hero, but he was also powerful. And if Phantom saw him as a villain…
"Dash, on the daily, you shove people into lockers! You chase them down the corridors, you insult them, punch them, slap them, trip them, and you're asking if you've done something!?" Phantom yelled, his green eyes wide with exasperation and almost shock. "I can't even — you do all this and you have the audacity to question what you've even done wrong?"
Dash braced himself as the ghost continued to rant. He hasn't thought the bullying was that bad — heck — it was even fun to shove Fenturd in a lock every day or two.
Like a light switch, the glow of Phantom's eyes dulled quickly, and he stood, in an almost sense of frozen horror.
"I shouldn't have lashed out." The ghost murmured.
Taken aback, the jock eventually steadied his quickening breathing, taking in Phantom's words. Personally, he didn't think the bullying was bad — it entertained him, plus, the teacher never noticed so there weren't exactly any consequences for it.
But maybe the protector's words had an utterance of truth. If he had gotten Phantom that riled up, then, maybe it was wrong.
"Were you bullied when you were alive?" Dash questioned, the ghost seemed experienced in the situation, like he was talking about his perspective.
You were once Daniel Jay. Dash thought internally. The club had been depressed and disheartened by finding the records, and he didn't understand. Because why would Phantom react like that? Surely he was fine, his death was nearly over a year ago.
But now Dash couldn't say the same. Just the raw, bitter emotions that came from Phantom as he ranted on about Dash's wrongdoings, which Phantom definitely wasn't fine with.
Phantom seemed to ponder his question, before letting out a slow singular nod.
"I was." The ghost said, his eyes distant, seemingly reflecting on past events, "It was awful. There was this gang of jocks — one in particular, that used to track me down. It was as if I was his prey. As soon as I was out of the classroom, it'd be straight into a locker, chased, books thrown out my hands, or a spurt of insults that never stopped."
He didn't know what to say. What could he? A bitter feeling rose in his chest, he felt almost nauseous, Phantom's retelling sounding exactly like what he'd do to Fenton.
Phantom had been bullied. And now he was a ghost. But he knew that the ghost had died after electrocution in a lab accident.
Even so, the thought of death made him fearful. What if he bullied so bad that he drove Fenton—
No. That wouldn't happen. He couldn't live with the thought of someone's death on his hands.
"I'm sorry dude." Dash sighed, his apology awkward and stiff, refusing to make eye contact with the ghost.
"What do you mean?" The ghost straightened his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed.
"Well, when everyone found your records, they were being all weird and depressed and I thought it was stupid, because we'd found them and there was nothing to be sad about." Dash explained, "But, like now, I dunno, I'm sorry for assuming stuff."
"I don't think it's me you should be apologising to." Phantom shrugged, then shifted his head again, "Well in a way you kinda should. But I think you know exactly who you owe apologies."
Admittedly, Dash was mildly perplexed by the ghost's thoughts, (in what way should he be apologising?), but he did know who he needed to apologise to.
And boy, was it long overdue.
He wouldn't expect forgiveness, and that was even if he could catch up to Fenton, the enigma he was, or manage to see Adam without him scrambling away, or any other nerds that'd been tormented by him.
"Yeah, yeah I do." A small flicker of a smile grew on his features as he smiled down at Phantom, who was surprisingly smaller than him.
"Still doesn't make sense why you'd need them records though." Phantom shifted, drifting to another topic. Dash stiffened. He couldn't tell the ghost why they needed them records, it would blow the whole plan!
"I don't know how to explain it. Just keep an eye out, tomorrow town square. If not, keep an eye out for the next few days."
"Ok?" Phantom responded, although it was more of a hesitant question then a response. Suddenly, he jumped, catching himself in the air and floating a few feet off the ground.
"I- better get going." The ghost gestured with his hands, pointing to nowhere in particular.
Dash nodded. He probably had somewhere to be — ghosts to hunt, people to rescue.
"See ya!"
"Bye, I guess." Phantom waved, and Dash watched the sky, as Phantom's figure suddenly popped into invisibility, making him jump lightly in fright.
A few minutes had passed before Danny decided to spark out of invisibility, waiting for Dash to go around the corner and accompany his friends in a football game. Observantly, he swung his head to scan the area that he was in. It was empty.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the half ghost trundled into some bushes, letting the familiar halo of bright light spark around his waist and turn him into human form. His former anger had now dissipated, and now Danny was left strangely hollow. That conversation had been weird.
His anger had gotten the best of him and he'd ranted — Dash had looked terrified. There was a little bit of pride at getting the jock to be scared, but also a nagging sense of guilt. Was Dash really going to redeem his past actions and give an apology? Danny snorted. He looked forward to it.
"Hey — Danny!" A shout interrupted him, "—wait, what are you doing in the bushes?"
He looked up to see Valerie, the faintest hint of amusement on her face. Looking down, Danny flushed, realising how ridiculous he must look to be frozen, gawking in a clump of bushes.
"Well I uh.. I.. yeah." He trailed off. Stumbling through the bushes, he approached Valerie, tensing his shoulders slightly. Even though they were friends, he still stayed alert.
"You're such a dork." Valerie shook her head, then gestured towards the entrance of the school, "Wanna walk?"
"Sure." The fourteen year old responded, successfully hiding a wince as his foot hit the floor, jolting the burn on his hip. It was still taking a while to heal, and he supposed being chased down the hallway by Dash and flying around in ghost form hadn't done much good for it. Progressively though, it was getting better. The shoulder wound was nothing more than a red mark.
He was met by Valerie giving him a strange look as he winced, her voice showing a slight layer of worry.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine. Injured my hip in gym."
"You weren't even present at gym yesterday, plus I'm pretty sure you had that limp even before gym started." Valerie raised an eyebrow, a concerned look on her face, "Don't try to lie to me, Danny. I just want to help."
It would help if you weren't hunting me! He thought internally, but shook his head.
Placing a tentative hand on his hip, Danny shrugged. Time to lie through his teeth.
"Fine. It's kinda embarrassing really. My parents made a new shield thing to go around the house, but they used some new chemicals or something. And of course, I had to be right there when the shield closed on top of me and burned my hip. Kind of like a Spectre Deflector.. but not."
He knew that Valerie wasn't dumb. Telling her that a ghost shield injured him would just make him more vulnerable and her more suspicious, especially if she figured that Danny Fenton was affected by ghost weapons. So, blame it on some strange new chemicals.
"That must be painful." The girl's eyebrows furrowed as she took a step back, "Speaking of ghosts, the assignment? You're a Fenton, you can't exactly skip this one, Danny."
"True, true." He nodded, trying to act dismissive.
"Should we do this assignment at your house? It'd make the most sense."
A lightning strike of fear bolted down his back and Danny found himself rubbing the back of his neck. What if Valerie saw something? What if he needed to catch a ghost?
But of course, his mouth spoke faster than his thoughts.
"Sure! You can walk with me, Tucker and Sam tonight. They were gonna come around anyway but I suppose we could spend that time doing this stupid assignment." He shrugged, and gave a small smile.
The two students walked up to the front door as Valerie held the door open, waiting for Danny to pass.
"That's great. I mean we do have only until Monday, so it's probably the only time we can do anything." Valerie nodded, "And I'm eager to learn some stuff. You know lots about Phantom, I presume. Your parents are the town's ghost hunters."
"Uh. Yeah. Yeah! Of course, I know lots about Phantom.." He trailed off, waiting for Valerie to react to his awkwardness, but her face shone with a beam sunny enough to blind.
"Awesome! I'll see you after school then!" The black haired girl waved as she bounced jovially down the corridor, a spring in her step.
Almost collapsing to the floor, Danny backed into a locker. Well he just made things worse. Now the girl would be expecting something — heck he'd literally just told her that he knew lots about Phantom. Turning, he opened his locker, a few doors down, hoping that his backpack was there.
There was the Thermos from a few days ago — Vlad was still stuck in there, but Danny didn't have the strength or motivation to deal with him, plus Vlad pissed him off — so that wouldn't be moved. He found his backpack, shoved at the back in the abyss of the locker. On top of that were a few worksheets.
He did a double take. Those hadn't been there before.
The papers showed they were a science pop quiz, more specifically from yesterday last lesson, a period he had missed. No names or clues except a "you missed this!" scrawled along the top.
Disconcerted, the boy shoved them back in his locker, mind racking for who would've put them there. It couldn't have been Sam or Tucker, they would've handed the sheets to him directly. Picking up his backpack, Danny swung the locker door shut, still mulling over the mysterious worksheets.
Just another mystery to solve over the weekend.