Author's Note: Nothing to say.

(after being) Condemned

Never had the school day felt so short before. When the final bell rang, Danny lamented that there couldn't be just one more class.

But it was time to leave, time to go home. He dragged himself down the hall and out of the building and toward the student parking lot. At the very least, it was a relief to get away from Sam and Tucker. Although they did not try to bring up the subject of last night again, he could see the questions etched in their heads every time they spoke to him or even looked at him.

Being apart from them felt better than he wanted it to. But being with them was still so much more preferable to returning home.

Jazz was waiting for him by her car. She looked up as he approached. Danny stopped a short distance away and glared at her. She squinched her brow with a slight tilt of her head.

"Why did you e-mail Sam and Tucker about what happened last night?" he asked when they were both in the car.

Jazz was quiet for only a moment. "Because I knew you wouldn't tell them yourself."

"Oh, you knew, huh? And how did you know I wouldn't tell them myself?"

"Well, was I wrong?"

Danny exhaled sharply through his nose. No, of course not. His perfect sister was never wrong. "It doesn't matter. It wasn't your place to tell them."

"They needed to know. I knew you weren't going to tell them, so I had to do it for you."

"They did not need to know."

"Yes, they did," insisted Jazz, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

"No, they didn't, and even if they did, what makes you think you had any business or right telling them yourself?" Anger, so much of it, replacing the dread for the time being. This sort of weight was so much lighter, felt so much more comfortable in his gut. "If anyone was going to tell them, it should've been me."

"You're right. You should've been the one to tell them. But I knew you wouldn't." She glanced at him. "Right? You wouldn't have ever told them."

"Because they didn't need to know."

"Yes, they did."

"No!" snapped Danny. "Who do you think you are to decide that? It's my life, my friends, my decision." He massaged the back of his neck, kneaded the aching soreness from the injection site in an attempt to spread it, diffuse it. The pain in his arm had dulled significantly, but there was still a heaviness that made it difficult to comfortably rest or move. "Now, because of you, Sam and Tucker are worrying about this little thing that happened. Do you know how hard it is to get them to let things go? They make a huge deal out of everything."

"See? There it is. The fact that you think this is just a little thing proves they needed to know. Because you need help."

Danny clenched his jaw. "It is a little thing. I overreacted, okay? But I'm fine now."

"You're not fine. You're so obviously not fine, Danny."

"What would you know? You're not me."

"I can tell. I know you."

"No, you don't know me. You don't know anything."

"I do know. And I'm not the only one who can tell. Mom and Dad could definitely tell. And Sam and Tucker could tell."

Danny shot her an awry glare. "Sam and Tucker could tell? How would you know that?"

Jazz's neck noticeably tensed. "We... They texted me."

Danny rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "You guys were texting about me? Seriously?"

"We're just concerned about you."

"And you think that's a good excuse?" yelled Danny. "I don't care that you're concerned or that you're older or that you're smarter. I don't care if you think I need help and that I'm just too stupid to admit it."

"Danny, please, that's not—"

"It doesn't mean you can talk about me or make decisions behind my back."

"Danny—"

He was done. Done with this, done with her. He willed intangibility to sweep over his molecules, transformed and shifted into anti-gravity, shot up and out of her car amidst her protests. Away he sped, high above the town and all the people in it that could just never trust him.

The heated pain from the injections was so much cooler in this form, so much more tolerable, he could almost feel them healing with accelerated relief—

But where did they come from—?

Him. What was he thinking? Why had he transformed? He was still angry and still hated him and if he saw him flying like this he'd—

He had to get away. Get away from here.

No, he had to go home. Immediately. He'd be even angrier if he didn't return home right after school like he was supposed to.

He could see the ridiculously obvious house from here. He slowed, stopped, hovered in the air.

He had to go home. He couldn't run away from this.

But he couldn't return on his own. He had to be with Jazz. It would be too suspicious otherwise, and his dad was already so suspicious.

He engaged his hold on gravity and allowed himself to sink to the ground, changing back into his human form, the pain in his neck and arm instantly returning. On the sidewalk about a block away, Danny stared down the street toward Fenton Works.

A car pulled up beside him. Danny warily turned to look at it as the driver's side window rolled down.

"Danny." Jazz leaned out toward him. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer.

"Will you let me drive you the rest of the way home? Please?"

Danny stared back at her for a moment, looked down the street, returned his gaze to her. At last, he moved around to the other side of the car and climbed into the passenger's seat. The siblings sat in silence as Jazz drove down the street, parking at the curb once they arrived at their house.

His father was in there waiting. No escape.

Jazz gently touched his arm. Danny looked down at her fingers, not at her.

"I'm sorry I told Sam and Tucker without your permission," said Jazz seriously, quietly. "That was wrong of me."

She sounded genuinely repentant, but Danny still did not look up. It was over and done. Sam and Tucker knew, and he wouldn't be able to change that. The sooner this next challenge began, the sooner it could end. He picked up his school bag from the car floor and clutched it to him tightly, breathed, readied himself.

"One thing." Jazz leaned over and opened the glove compartment in front of him. She rummaged through and pulled out a small pill bottle. "This should help with the pain and inflammation. I just noticed you rubbing your neck and arm a lot."

Danny took the bottle from Jazz. Ibuprofen. He probably could use more, yes. The relief from the dose he took that morning had definitely worn off. Not that he was about to tell her he had already taken eight hundred milligrams that morning. He poured two pills in his hand, a standard dose, and dry swallowed them. He then leaned back and closed his eyes, arms crossed over the bag held to his chest.

He visualized the medication working, taking all of this away. This would mask the pain and everything would be fine and easy and maybe even normal again.

"Danny," said Jazz. "You can't stay here forever."

Why not? Why did he have to leave? Why did he have to face him again?

because he told you to.

Why couldn't he wait another five or ten minutes, at least?

because he'll hate you even more for making him wait.

His dad didn't hate him.

you remember how he acted this morning don't you?

He was just angry. Not the same as hate.

well then by all means go in and see for yourself

The nerve in his upper chest was shooting and twanging, crumpling his spine in defense. He could see Jazz studying him, and he suddenly wanted so much to confide in her, to tell her just how shaken and tormented he was feeling. She was right, he was wrong. He wasn't fine. He wanted her to know, to share this weight.

But he couldn't trust her with this. She would just tell Sam and Tucker. She would just try to fix him, give him advice. She could never just listen.

She wasn't his ally right now.

He stepped out of the car and walked toward the house, slinging his school bag on his back, even pace, even breathing.

He stood before the front door. He was fine. He was calm. The jolting pulse in his chest was gone. He could stand straight easily.

Good.

Jazz strolled up next to him. "Do you want me to go in first?"

Not looking at her, Danny pushed the door open without further hesitation. In the living room, their parents were sitting on the sofa.

"How was school?" asked Maddie.

"Great," said Jazz.

Jack was smiling. But that couldn't be right. His dad looked happy. Like normal. But things weren't normal right now, were they? How could they be? It hadn't been that long since breakfast. Was his dad over it all now?

Was it or wasn't it over?

"Danny?" asked Jack.

Danny blinked and straightened up. "Hmm?"

"You were just staring at me," said Jack with an amused smile.

"Oh." Danny looked down at the floor. "Sorry."

Jack chuckled. "No need to apologize. You just seem a little dazed. You doing okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you ready to talk now?" asked Maddie. "Or do you need a few minutes? Do you want to eat something first, maybe?"

He needed far longer than a few minutes. He couldn't possibly eat anything now. Nothing could get through his clotted throat prickled with tension.

He was not ready.

He nodded.

Jazz left the room, and then he was alone with his parents. They sat together on one end while he took a seat at the other. He waited for them to begin, hoped that they would maybe never begin and they could just sit here in silence. But none of this could end if it didn't start.

"Danny." Jack was speaking first. Danny focused on the peppered strands in his aging hair. "Can you tell us exactly what you were doing last night?"

"Yes," said Maddie. Danny quickly made eye contact with her. "Tell us from the beginning. When did you leave, where did you go, when did you get back?"

"You were definitely here when we all went to bed," said Jack. "So that means you left the house after ten, well after your curfew of nine on school nights."

Stern but not angry. His father really did sound like his usual self again and yet Danny didn't want to test it. He kept himself turned toward his mother, directed his explanation to her.

"Yes," Danny began. "I left after everyone went to bed. Well, what happened was Tucker and I were texting, and he started telling me about this new game he got for his VR system. And…" Sam and Tucker were both so right. This sounded ridiculous, just stupid. But he was now committed, and Tucker already agreed to corroborate. "And... Well, I just really wanted to check it out, so..."

"You snuck out to play a video game?" said Jack with a lift of hinted incredulity.

Yup, it was official. This sounded way too stupid.

"Must've been a really good game," quipped Maddie. "What was it?"

Damn it. He hadn't even thought to invent that detail.

"It's just a shooter game," said Danny as casually as he could. "You wouldn't know it."

"But do you know it?" asked Maddie with a small raise of her brow.

"Yeah, what's the name?" pressed Jack.

Their tones were almost jocular in their probing. Tiny muscles in his skin tightened, raising the hairs on his arm.

"Farpoint," he blurted, the first VR shooter game he knew Tucker owned. But that wasn't a new game. Tucker bought that months ago. He sucked, he absolutely just sucked.

"Farpoint. Sounds fun," said Maddie. "Where did you play?"

"Downstairs. In his living room. I mean, that's where all his gaming stuff is set up. His mom won't let him keep it in his room anymore."

"And did Tucker ask you to come over? Or did you invite yourself?"

"Ah... I invited myself, I guess. Well, I mean, I asked if I could come over to check it out, and he said yes."

"And so you just went to his house? And played a game in the living room? And his parents didn't hear you at all?"

"Well, Tucker always plays games at night in the living room, so the noise wouldn't have been new to them."

"Do they usually let him play at midnight on school nights?"

Danny hesitated. "Um...no. I mean, they don't let him, but he still does sometimes. But we kept the volume really low. They didn't hear us."

His parents didn't reply. In fact, they said nothing for some time, the silence becoming more and more deafening the longer it dragged.

"Is that the truth, Danny?" asked Jack in a low voice. "Is that really what you were doing last night?"

Danny tentatively locked eyes with his father. So much evident in his father's stare.

Jack knew. Just like Sam and Tucker, he knew. Jack knew he was lying. Jack knew he was out on the streets and knew he was held at gunpoint and knew he was Phantom and knew everything and he was going to lock him up and lock him down and kill him and his dad wouldn't even miss him.

No, no, it had to be another tactic, another ploy to catch him. Once again trapped with his hands up, forced to explain himself, his reasons and defenses challenged and belittled. A test, just another research experiment. Another standoff, another gun aimed at his head.

What should he do? Call this bluff and stick to the story he had worked out with Tucker? Or offer a new story, the story Sam had suggested?

Maybe a little of both?

"Okay, look." Danny exhaled, studied the fibers of the couch. "We... We did play a game, but...there was more to it than that. I mean, that's not the reason I snuck out."

His parents tilted their heads.

"I've just been kind of going through a rough time lately, and... I wanted to talk to Tucker about some things." He rubbed his forearms, tried to smooth out the bristling bumps. "But I really was at his house."

"What things, Danny?" asked Maddie, her forehead creased with motherly concern.

"Just...personal things." Danny slouched his shoulders. "Um... Nothing that serious, honestly. It definitely could've waited until I saw him at school. I really am sorry for doing this to you."

"What personal things?" Maddie asked more forcefully. "You can't just keep this from us, Danny. If something is troubling you or hurting you, we need to know so we can help you."

Danny tensed. What wasn't troubling or hurting him these days? Even his own parents were unknowingly torturing him. "It's nothing, really. I mean, just...stupid dramatic teenage stuff, you know? I just get worked up over little things, overreact. Tucker's just good at helping me talk things out."

He ran his nails over his jeans. His parents scrutinized him from the other end of the couch.

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" asked Jack. "Why did you tell us it was just for a game?"

"Because...I didn't want you to worry about me. It really was nothing, nothing you need to be concerned about or help me with." He raised his head with somber expression. "I'm fine. Really."

Maddie and Jack stared back at him just as solemnly, then turned to each other in whispered conversation. Danny watched them, clasped his hands and bounced them on his thigh.

"All right, Danny." Maddie sighed. "We definitely want to know what you talked about with Tucker, what was so troubling that you felt you had to talk about it in person in the middle of the night, but we won't make you tell us right now."

Danny's muscles relaxed.

"We know you're not a liar," said Jack, "so if you say you were with Tucker, we believe you."

He tensed again but gave no visible reaction. He had been a liar for so long now. He didn't deserve their trust, not as their son. Perhaps he deserved their distrust as their ghost after all, then.

"But you did sneak out," said Maddie. "We can't let that go."

Danny waited. Maddie and Jack shifted their weights, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"Danny, what you did was not only disrespectful to our rules but also dangerous," said Maddie, her eyes fixing with a stern glare. "You know that ghosts are most active at night, and they are rampant in our town."

Danny could see something flash in Jack's eyes, but the older man stayed silent, the corners of his mouth turning down. Maddie stole a glance at him, but he didn't return it.

"We met up with ghosts ourselves last night while looking for you," said Maddie. "And even with our expertise, we definitely could've been killed."

"No," said Jack suddenly, bitingly. "Those ghosts need to watch out for us, not the other way around."

Maddie shot a disapproving look at him. Jack shrugged. Danny studied the exchange but was unsure what it meant.

"Danny, we don't want you to think we don't trust you or that we don't think you're responsible enough to be out on your own," said Maddie, "but you're our son, our child, and we need to know where you are at all times, especially during the night. We have these rules not to restrict you and Jazz but to keep you two safe." She paused and cocked her head. "Do you understand that, Danny?"

He understood every word. But just how much safer was he at night sleeping down the hall from scientists who so often openly discussed the explicit details of the sickening experiments they wanted to put him through?

"I do understand," said Danny quietly. "I really am sorry for sneaking out and worrying you. I won't do it again."

"We believe you," said Maddie with a small smile, "but like I said, we can't just let this go."

Danny looked down. He knew what was coming next.

"Dad and I talked about it." Maddie patted Jack's leg. "Since this was the first—and hopefully only—time, we won't be too harsh, but we will be strict about it." She straightened up. "You are to go to school with Jazz and come home immediately afterwards with her, just like today. No hanging out with Sam or Tucker. When you're home, you're to be out here where we can see you, not in your room. We moved your computer so that you can do your homework down here."

Maddie gestured to Danny's computer that was clearly right there. How could he not have noticed it before?

"You can only be in your room at night to sleep," continued Maddie, "but you must keep your door open."

Danny suppressed an eye roll. After what happened the night before, he didn't think he could possibly feel more debased.

But he had to accept these terms. He had no choice.

"How long?" he asked without looking up.

"One week," said Jack gruffly. "Until next Thursday."

Danny frowned to himself. His father didn't sound nearly as angry as he did that morning, but he certainly sounded more upset than he had when Danny first entered the living room not that long ago.

"Which means no going out this weekend either," said Maddie.

Danny kept his eyes down but nodded to show he understood.

Why did his dad seem like his normal self earlier? And what caused the sudden shift just now?

Was it him? Was it just something about him that irritated his father? Had his father been in a good mood while he was gone but soured the moment he came home?

He had been trying to be respectful and cooperative, and it seemed it just wasn't enough. He wasn't enough for his dad. Could he ever be enough?

"You okay, Danny?"

Danny looked up through half-lidded eyes.

"Is there anything else you want to talk about?" asked Maddie with keen concern.

Danny was sure she was thinking back to the way he acted the night before and at breakfast. Jazz did tell him his odd behavior was obvious. "No," he said with a small shake of his head and a weak smile.

Maddie and Jack exchanged looks but did not press further.

"Well, I'm going to call Tucker's mom again," said Maddie, looking down at her phone. "I want to see if she's talked to Tucker about this. And I want to let her know what you just told us."

Danny numbly watched her thumb her phone screen. "You're going to call her now?" he asked through tightened vocal cords.

Jack and Maddie both looked at him. Danny avoided Jack's stare.

"Is that a problem?" asked Maddie.

Danny held back a gulp. "No."

She stood and walked to the kitchen with her phone. Danny watched her leave and did his best to conceal his panic.

"Do you have homework, Danny?" asked Jack.

Danny continued to look in the direction of the kitchen. "Yeah," he replied absently.

"Do it now. Down here."

"Right now?"

Danny turned to Jack to see him nod. No use arguing. He was the child here. He had to lose.

"Can I go upstairs first?" he asked, once again looking in the direction of the kitchen. He could hear Maddie beginning to talk to Tucker's mother. "Get some things, use the bathroom?"

"Just make it quick," said Jack. "Ten minutes."

Danny practically jumped off the couch, pulling at his shirt collar to conceal the injection site on his neck as he started up the stairs. He took out his cell phone to send Tucker a message, the details of the new story he had told his parents.

"Wait, Danny," Jack called after him.

Danny halted and turned around. Jack approached the stairs but did not ascend them.

"We're taking your phone for the week, too." Jack held out a large gloved hand to him.

Danny froze. "My phone?" He glanced down at it, then back at Jack. "Why?"

"It's what we decided."

Danny clutched his phone. His messages to Sam, Tucker, and even Jazz were hidden in an app disguised as something ordinary, an inconspicuous math app. His father wouldn't find those messages unless he thoroughly investigated the phone, and even if he did, the messages were carefully coded.

But he couldn't risk it. He needed to delete the app before he handed it over.

"Okay," said Danny with a small crack in his voice. "Is it all right if I send a message to Sam and Tuck to let them know?"

"No," said Jack, his hand still held out. "Give it to me now."

Danny recoiled at the harshness in his father's voice, the steel in his glower. Danny looked down at his phone again. If he deleted the app now with his dad staring right at him, he would not only get in more trouble for being openly defiant, but his dad would be suspicious about what he was doing, what he was trying to hide.

He had to play this as cool as possible to quell any wariness. He would just have to invisibly retrieve the phone that night and delete the app then.

He placed his phone in Jack's hand, praying that Tucker would figure out how to play along with the new version of his alibi.

Jack's fingers curled around the phone. He gave Danny a nod, then a smile. Confused by this sudden reaction free of the ire that had been present just seconds before, Danny could not summon a smile of his own as Jack turned away from him and headed to the kitchen. Danny stared after him.

Was his dad angry with him? Annoyed? Fine? What?

Why couldn't he tell?