This spacewalk was turning out to be a disaster.

For starters, the guy who usually checked their equipment was sick, so they'd had to check it themselves, and they were more out of practice than Danny wanted to admit.

For another, he'd been sent out with the person on his team he trusted the least.

Oh, and worst of all?

His suit was ripped.

His space suit.

The one he needed to breathe.

Or, at least, the one he would need to breathe, if he'd been fully human. Luckily for him, being half ghost meant his body was perfectly fine without it.

Of course, that didn't stop the guy floating next to him from freaking out over it.

"Fenton, your suit!" Randall exclaimed, wildly gesturing to the slash in the fabric over Danny's arm.

Danny looked down at the tear, pretending to see it for the first time. He slapped a hand over the gash, clamped his mouth shut, and stared wide-eyed in a late attempt to look as panicked as any human should be.

He really hoped it would work.

Randall pulled a roll of emergency adhesive from his belt and bound Danny's sleeve. When he finished, Danny let out a breath he hadn't been holding in, then chuckled. "Guess duct tape really does fix everything, huh?"

Randall shot him a look, something between concerned and incredulous, if Danny had to guess. "No! No, it doesn't! Quit wasting your breath and get back to the station!" He made his way back to the airlock, dragging Danny by his tether. "'Duct tape fixes everything'- I swear, the second we're back, I'll make him wish I hadn't patched up his suit. Fenton, you idiot!"

Danny was pretty sure he wasn't meant to hear that.

Heck, he was pretty sure he shouldn't be able to.

Plus, talking like the lack of oxygen didn't bother him probably wouldn't do him any favors.

He kept his mouth shut.

By the time they tumbled through the airlock doors, Randall was gasping for air. Chances were, he'd over-exerted himself getting them there. Immediately, they were approached by Todd, who began scanning them for signs of injury.

"Randall, are you alright? Are you breathing okay now?"

"What? I'll be fine; you should be checking on Fenton." There went that look again.

"You were the one with the oxygen breach, weren't you?" Todd's expression shifted from worry to confusion.

"No, I called it in for that idiot."

"But Fenton's fine. You look like you ran a marathon."

"He's- he's what?" Randall whipped around to face Danny, who'd been watching the proceedings with an amused smirk. "You've been low on oxygen for a good five minutes; how are you still standing?"

"I've got good lungs, I guess." Or, y'know, half-dead ones.

Randall stared at him for a moment, eyebrows knitted together like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He was well-known among the crew for his problem-solving skills; there'd been a reason he was chosen as their designated engineer. Danny was fairly confident he was one puzzle he'd never solve, though, so he responded with no more than a raised brow. A challenge.

"What are you?"

Well, frick.

That wasn't good.

He chuffed. "Human, obviously. I mean, what else would I be?"

"I don't know. But there's something… off about you, Fenton, and I intend to figure it out."

"Yeah, good luck with that. Y'know, you kind of remind me of this guy I met in high school."

"Oh? How so?"

"He always dug around where he shouldn't. Jumped to conclusions."

Randall went back to staring at Danny, his gaze cold and calculating. He huffed, then stormed off.

Oh, joy.