Author's Note: Guyyyyyyssssss, I'm sorry for taking so long to update! I was busy writing for PhannieMay/DannyMay on Tumblr, and that surprisingly took a lot of energy. But I am back to writing my normal fics!

And I honestly have no idea what I'm doing anymore...

(after being) Condemned

The grass felt so clean and soft and the air so warm and fresh that there was no way Danny could stop himself from falling asleep. When Jazz shook him awake, everything still felt so comfortable. All of his effort and strength was required just to pull himself up into a sitting position.

"Time for second period already?" he asked through a yawn. The sun didn't seem as bright as before.

"Time for lunch, actually," replied Jazz, showing him the time on her phone.

Danny's mouth dropped open. "You let us skip our first three classes?"

Jazz smiled as she held on to his arm and helped him stand. "You looked so serene. I thought I'd just let you sleep a little longer instead."

Danny did not return the smile as he followed her back to her car. He had been feeling so good just moments before, but now he felt terrible for allowing himself to fall asleep and cause Jazz to skip more classes when he knew how important school was to her.

How could he be so selfish?

"It's fine!" said Jazz, turning to glance back at him as they walked. "I had some books to study, some homework to get ahead on. It was a really good break for me too."

And now she was trying to comfort him. Why was he so easy to read? He really needed to work on hiding his feelings better.

Danny climbed into the passenger seat and lowered his sunglasses to study his eyes in the visor mirror. His eyes looked clear; no need to hide them anymore. He set his sunglasses on the dash of Jazz's car and attempted to wake himself fully during the drive to Casper High.

He and Jazz entered the school building just as the bell for lunch rang. He spotted Sam and Tucker walking down the hall and caught up with them. His balance was back, at least. He did not need to look down at his shoes to keep himself upright.

"Danny, you're here!" greeted Sam.

"Sure was boring without you, dude. I was so bored I actually paid attention in class," quipped Tucker.

"You made it just in time for lunch," said Sam as she placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

"Yeah, well, you know how much I love to eat," said Danny with a wry smile.

Sam and Tucker continued chatting with him as they walked toward the cafeteria, small talk, catching him up on what he missed in class.

But they never asked where he had been for the first part of the day.

Danny had been all set to give them a story and yet they did not seem to be curious. Normally, they'd be expressing concern and demanding all the details of whatever ghost fight he had been caught up in.

But now, they seemed to actually be avoiding the subject.

Danny gradually slowed before finally coming to a full stop right outside the cafeteria. Sam and Tucker also stopped and turned back to him. Impatient students hastily shoved past them to get to the lunchroom.

"Did Jazz text you guys? About where we were this morning?" he asked with no hesitation, figuring he might as well get straight to the point.

Sam and Tucker glanced at each other. That was enough of an answer for Danny.

"We were going to talk to you about it once we were at our table," explained Sam, wringing her bagged lunch in her hands.

"Yeah, really. We weren't going to keep it secret from you," said Tucker.

Danny narrowed his eyes for only a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "No, it's fine. Really. I was just wondering why you weren't asking where I was. But I guess it's just because you already know."

Sam and Tucker looked down at the floor.

Danny gave them a reassuring smile before leading the way into the cafeteria. "It's really fine, guys. We'll talk at our table."

The three waited in line together, but their attempts at small talk faded into quiet. Once they were situated at their normal table outside, Danny opted to go ahead and dive right into what was on all of their minds.

"So." He picked up a fry, brought it to his mouth, set it back down on his tray without taking a bite. "What exactly did Jazz text you two?"

"She, uh…" Sam quickly scanned for any eavesdroppers before continuing. "She told us that both of you would be skipping class. Which Tucker and I couldn't even believe. Jazz, skipping class?"

"Yeah, she always practically killed herself to get perfect attendance each year in the past!" remarked Tucker.

"Yeah, she... Yeah, I thought it was weird, too," murmured Danny, his guilt rekindled over making his sister miss out on something he knew was important to her. "Did she tell you why?"

"She said you weren't, um...feeling very well," said Sam. "She said you didn't sleep enough last night and that you needed more rest before coming to school."

Danny quirked a brow. "Really? She said that?"

Sam and Tucker nodded.

"Is that all she said?"

"She said that we could, er, ask you more about it when we saw you," said Tucker. "So, I mean, if you want to tell us what's up... You know we're here for you, dude."

Sam and Tucker said nothing more. They ate quietly with small, discreet bites. Sam daintily slipped pieces of veggies into her mouth, and even Tucker refrained from inhaling his burger.

Danny drummed his fingers on the table and moved the fries around on his tray to give himself something to do, a way to stimulate his mind so he could figure this out.

He really didn't want them to be aware of just how much he was struggling. How much he was hurting.

But they already knew. He had even admitted to them that he was having a hard time just a couple days ago. All he was hiding from them were the specifics.

He sighed, brought another fry to his mouth, dropped it, sighed again. "Okay, well, I already told you guys that things have been...not so great since my dad trapped me in that alley."

Sam and Tucker raised their eyes to him with rapt attention. Too late to back out now.

"So, Friday—and maybe Jazz told you this already, I don't know what she's been texting you—Dad actually drove me up to Gardner Peak after school."

"She did mention that to us, yeah," said Sam. "But she didn't tell us anything that might've happened."

Danny kept his expression calm, not wanting to betray just how skeptical he was that Jazz would actually respect his privacy for once. "It didn't go very well."

Sam and Tucker leaned in a little closer to him.

"I thought it was fine at first. It seemed fine at first. We were getting along and having a good time. But then I was stupid and told him I didn't think all ghosts are bad, and... Well, you can imagine how my dad took that." He sighed. "And he's just been mad at me ever since."

"We definitely know how your dad gets," said Sam.

"Especially when it comes to ghosts," said Tucker.

Danny lifted a fry to his mouth once again and this time managed to get it past his lips. He forced it down with a hard swallow.

"Um, so…" Sam chewed the inside of her cheek. "When you say your dad is mad at you, what exactly does that mean?"

"The usual, I guess," said Danny. "Being short with me. Finding even the smallest things I do irritating. But mostly just ignoring me, only saying something to me if I do something that bothers him."

"And that's...all?"

Danny looked at Sam curiously.

"I mean, um." Sam looked down at the table and hunched her shoulders. "He doesn't...hit you, does he?"

Danny balked. "What? No, of course not. Why would you even ask that?"

"Well, it's just—"

"You know my dad wouldn't do that."

"We also know your dad can get pretty violent when he's mad," said Tucker.

Danny glared at him. "With ghosts. Not with people. Not with his family." He shakily inhaled. "Not with me."

"It's just—I mean—your dad's been mad at you before," said Sam. "But... We've never seen you act like this."

"Like what?" demanded Danny.

Sam opened and closed her mouth a couple times, but no words ever came out.

"It's not like you're ever happy when your dad is mad at you," said Tucker. "But you at least... In the past, you'd at least smile sometimes." Tucker indicated Danny's barely touched tray. "And eat."

Danny took a sizable bite of his sandwich and kept it in the side of his mouth as he spoke. "And that somehow means my dad must be hitting me?"

Sam groaned. "Okay, I'm sorry I asked that. But you just seem kind of distant and...sad. And the way you broke down with us during lunch on Friday—"

"I didn't break down."

"Yeah, you kind of did. We were both there with you, Danny. We saw you. And last we heard, you were going to tell your dad the truth, but then Jazz tells us later that night that you changed your mind?"

"Yeah. So? I decided it wasn't a good idea after all." Danny shrugged. "That was my choice. I'm allowed to make choices."

"No one is saying you're not," said Tucker.

Danny did not respond.

"This is really hard for us too, Danny," said Sam. "But you seem so empty right now. You don't seem like you, not our friend."

"Yeah," said Tucker. "So we just can't help but wonder what is different this time."

Danny's airway was clenched tight. These concerns, these accusations. On trial for not being himself anymore, for not being a good friend anymore. What defense could he provide?

He took another bite of his sandwich, a bigger one than before, big enough that he wouldn't have to talk for a minute or so. Too big to comfortably go down his tightened throat. The bite pricked his esophagus like a rusted razor.

"Are you still—I mean—" Sam paused. "Are you still trauma—er—bothered by what your dad did to you in that alley?"

"Stop." Danny stared down at his stupid lunch, hating the look of it, the smell of it, the taste of it. "This isn't helping me. You're not helping me. My dad is not hitting me. He's not hurting me."

He might've told them more. If they hadn't charged him with not handling this well or being traumatized—he couldn't believe Sam would even think to use that word!—he might've told them about what his dad said at the observatory, about how his dad would never see his ghost side as someone who could ever be more useful than as a science experiment, about how he clearly wasn't the son his dad wanted. He might've told them about how he stupidly confided in his mom that he thought his dad didn't like him, how his dad came into his room in the middle of the night and yelled at him about it.

But now he never wanted to tell them. If they were just going to blow this out of proportion and accuse him of being too delicate to get through this on his own, then he'd just rather they not know at all.

you liar. why do you always lie? there's no point in lying to yourself. you want them to know.

Yes. He did want them to know. But he did not want their judgment, their pity.

His friends and sister constantly worrying about him was not comforting. It was insulting.

And now it was also tiring and he was just completely done with it.

Sam and Tucker did not try to get him to say anything more on the topic. They played it safe with their normal mundane interests. Teachers, classmates, tests coming up, new video games coming out.

And Danny made it a point to force down everything on his tray.

When the bell rang signaling the end of lunch, Danny walked a short distance behind Sam and Tucker on their way to class, debating his next action. He did not feel particularly comfortable with his friends at the moment.

They were completely right, though. He was definitely not doing very well.

But he hated just how obvious it apparently was.

And he hated most that they seemed to think his situation was worse than it actually was because yes things weren't great between him and his dad but not that bad and he certainly wasn't some traumatized victim who needed their coddling. He was so much stronger than that, and now they had revealed just how frail and powerless they actually perceived him to be.

He really did not want to talk to them for at least the rest of the day.

But...

He really needed more hydrocodone. He definitely did not want to run out, did not want to need it but not have any to take. And Sam's mom had so much of it from various surgeries and all her connections with rich doctors. And it wasn't like he didn't deserve it after all of the pain he suffered daily fighting ghosts. How could he continue being a hero for the town if he was in too much pain to rescue anyone?

Really, it was his obligation to keep himself in good condition for his dangerous vigilante activities.

"Sam."

Sam and Tucker both stopped to turn and look back at him.

"Can I talk to you, Sam?"

"Right now?" asked Sam, checking the time on her phone.

"Yeah, it'll be real quick," said Danny. "We'll make it to class on time."

Tucker grinned, his eyes twinkling. "I'll see you two later, then." He gave a small wave before taking off, leaving the remaining two friends alone with bustling students shuffling past them.

"Here, let's get out of the way." Danny put a gentle hand on Sam's upper arm and guided her to a wall. He checked to make sure that no one was around to notice them or eavesdrop.

"So what is it?" asked Sam, her voice sounding a little softer than usual.

Danny noticed the light blush spread across her cheeks. He took his hand off of her arm and tried to stop his own face from warming.

"Well, um… First, I'm...sorry for being kind of snappish earlier. At lunch." He had thought this apology would be insincere, but as the words came out, he actually did feel bad for being so short with her and Tucker. They were only trying to be good friends. He knew that. "I just... I don't know. I guess I just don't want you guys to think I need serious help or something. That I'm weak."

"Danny, we would never think that," said Sam with the tiniest chuckle. "We just don't like seeing you so unhappy and...distant." She glanced away. "We just miss you, you know? Things haven't been the same between us for a while now, and we don't know what we can do to fix that. Or if there even is a way to fix that."

Danny's whole torso ached with weighty guilt. In his efforts to keep his friends safe and not burden them with too much, he had only ended up making them think they weren't really friends anymore.

"I know, I know." Danny groaned. "This past year and a half has just been so crazy. And I miss us, too. Really."

She smiled at him. She always looked so pretty when she smiled, especially when it was so genuine and not painted with any snark or derision. Just that look of serene approval in his direction was enough to make his heart sigh.

"It's... It's been really hard," Danny continued with a stammer.

He swallowed, rubbed his arm, stalled, tried to choose his next words carefully but they all sounded so stupid all of a sudden, why was he so awkward and stupid. Sam's smile dropped a little.

"I've, uh... I've actually been running kind of low on hydrocodone for a while now."

What a lie, such a lie, he had gone through more in the past week then he had in the past couple months.

"I just kept forgetting to ask you for more. 'Cause, you know, I don't think about it that often."

He thought about it every day, every hour.

"So if there's any way you can get me more, that'd be great because... Well, I'm gonna start going out to fight ghosts again pretty soon—once I'm no longer grounded—and I don't want to run out."

"But I gave you some at the beginning of the month." Sam's smile had now reversed completely into a frown. "How could you already be running low? You're only supposed to use it for emergencies."

"Yeah, I know—"

"Have you been in that much pain lately? Like pain so bad you're needing to take that many narcotics?"

"Ah—"

"Because then why haven't you told me and Tucker? If you're getting beat up that bad, we need to know, Danny! You can't just let yourself get hurt that bad and not tell us."

"It hasn't been that bad," insisted Danny breathily. "I promise. Really. Nothing serious."

"Then why are you running low on the narcotics I gave you? You shouldn't be."

Danny's mouth stayed open for a beat before he could actually get any words out. "It's not like—I mean, it's a lot of pain, but not like—like serious pain, you know? Nothing I've needed first aid for, nothing I'd need a doctor for. Pain like—like soreness, bruises, headaches, sprains."

Sam's brow furrowed.

"You know, pain that's bad but not critical. Not serious."

"And normal painkillers weren't enough? You really needed to take hydrocodone for that?"

"Ah, well, you know. It kept me up at night, made it hard to sleep. And you know how I sometimes come home at three and then have to get up for school just a few hours later. I need as much sleep as I can get."

"Hydrocodone isn't sleeping medication, Danny."

His words were stuck again momentarily. "I—I know, but—"

"You're not supposed to take it to help you sleep. You're supposed to take it when you're in really bad pain. Like really bad pain. Serious pain."

"I know, I know, but it's sometimes hard to sleep when I'm in even a little pain, okay? And Tylenol and Advil aren't always enough to take it all away but hydrocodone is—"

"That's not how you're supposed to use it, Danny," said Sam with a disapproving whine. "I told you this. You promised you would only use it for emergencies. I trusted you, Danny."

Danny felt a twinge in his chest, a stab of something terrible, an awful feeling. "Okay, wait, I think—maybe I didn't explain it correctly. I—I really was in a lot of pain, okay? I promise I'm not lying."

He really wasn't. He knew he wasn't. He was sure he wasn't. Right? It was real pain, for sure. He was only lying about the timeframe in which he swallowed the meds, the number of pills he had taken in a single day, at a single time. But that wasn't something she needed to know.

She stayed silent, waited for him to continue. But her expression did not soften.

She wasn't going to let up. He knew this about her. Maybe it would be better to just let her believe she was right and not argue.

When it came to Sam, that was typically the best course of action.

"Okay, maybe I did take too much," said Danny. "Maybe I should've held back a couple times. But it just… It felt really bad to me, you know? I'm really not lying about that."

"Then maybe we all need to talk about this more," said Sam, her tone sounding pained and pleading. "We don't want you to be in pain, Danny. Maybe this is something we need to have a discussion about. All of us together. We need to figure out what we can do to help you more so that you're not hurting so much."

Oh, he hated that idea. He really, really hated it.

"And maybe we can talk about...ways to get you healthy again." Sam looked at the floor. "Because you know painkillers and meds aren't the only answer, right? You might be getting headaches because you're not getting enough sleep. Or you're really stressed. Or…" She paused. "Or if you're not eating enough."

Danny stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure," he said dully. "We can maybe talk about that. When I'm not grounded. Maybe."

Her lips curved into a small smile. Danny tried to make his own smile as unstrained as possible.

"I should try other ways to relieve my pain, you're right," said Danny with what he hoped was a convincing nod. "But, um... I still am running low on hydrocodone, and emergencies, um... They definitely do happen, you know that. And I can never really know when, so... I'd just rather not run out." He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "So if that's something you could do for me, I'd really appreciate it. And I promise I'll be more careful using it."

He really did mean this promise. He could not risk this situation happening again. He had been going through a hard time, but he was sure everything would be fine once Thursday rolled around and he was no longer grounded.

He meant it. Really.

So why did she look as if she didn't believe him?

She rubbed her lips together. "I don't think I can, Danny."

Danny's eyebrows drew close together. "Doesn't your mom get new prescriptions for it like every three months? She has a ton, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she does because she also likes taking it sometimes, but—"

"So she won't notice if you take a little more ahead of schedule, right?"

Sam checked the time on her phone. "We really need to get to class, Danny. We have two minutes."

"Sam, will you do this for me or not?"

Sam sighed and looked off to the side. "I don't know, Danny. Just—with how you've been lately—and how strange Jazz said you were this morning—"

"You said she only told you I was tired," said Danny.

Her face froze in an expression that betrayed so much.

"You said that's all she told you."

"It—it was, but—"

"What did she really say?"

"That you were tired!" Sam sputtered. "Really, that's what she told us! But she... She also told us some of the things you did. You know, because you were tired."

"Like what?"

"Danny, please, she just wanted to—"

"Just tell me, Sam."

"Just...how you were stumbling a lot. And you apparently knocked over a chair?" Sam kept her eyes down as she wrung her hands. "She just wants to help you, Danny. And we want to help you, too."

"I told you how you can help me," said Danny sharply. "Are you going to help me, Sam?"

Sam raised her eyes. "I really don't think it's a good idea right now. I think we need to talk about it first."

Danny shook his head and started walking away from her.

"Danny, come on, don't—"

He could sense her reaching for him. He willed his cells into intangibility. Her hand went right through his shoulder and caught nothing.

Her pleas faded away, far away.