"Woah, woah, woah. I need you to go back, rewind."
Dash looked at Wes who was standing in front of him, staring up into his face with a glare on his own, hands on his hips.
"You're trying to tell me that Danny Fenton… Is Danny Phantom?"
Wes nodded. "Yes! I've been connecting all these dots and I finally saw him transform! I don't know how he's never been caught before, he just does it in the middle of anywhere!"
Dash rubbed his face and sighed. "Wes you know how crazy you sound, right? How is Fenton Phantom? Phantom's dead, a ghost. Why would a dead kid keep going to school?"
"I… I don't know." Wes faltered. "I don't know what his deal is. I think he might be some kind of hybrid but I don't know how that would ever be possible."
"What are you saying that one of Fenton's parents is dead too?"
"What? No!" Wes exclaimed before sighing. "I don't know what I'm saying. All I know is that Fenton is Phantom."
"Pff." Dash let out a breath of air. "I think if Phantom were Fenton, he would've told me. We're like, best buds."
Wes rolled his eyes. "Why would the kid you wail on tell you his secret identity?"
Dash's eyes furrowed. "Because me and Phantom are friends and he trusts me."
"Clearly he doesn't trust you enough."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Wes threw his arms in the air, shouting. "Him and Fenton are the same person! Why would he trust you with a secret like that when you beat him up everyday?"
"I don't-"
"Yes you do. Think about it, Fenton and Phantom are never seen in the same place together. Don't either of them ever do anything strange? Weird?"
Dash rolled his eyes. "Fenton's a freak so of course he does."
"Not like- Does he ever do anything that doesn't seem like something he'd do?"
Thinking, Dash looked at the ground. Fenton has always had that stubborn attitude of his, being defiant towards Dash even though he had no way to fight back. He still had that of course, but now there seemed to be strength behind it. Something in his eyes that didn't fit with Fenton the freak.
"Fenton just likes to make himself look bigger, like a scared animal. He's been doing that for years." Dash said, something starting to nag in the back of his mind.
"Okay. What about Phantom then? Does he do things a ghost shouldn't do?"
"Phantom's not like the other ghosts, that's a hard thing to judge him on."
"What makes him different?" Wes asked pointedly.
"He still likes to eat." Dash started slowly. "And he has a cell phone. Sometimes it goes off when we're hanging out. I don't know who he talks to on it though, it's not my business. "
"But how do you think he got the-"
Dash stopped listening when he saw the doors to the school open behind Wes. Out walked Fenton and his nerdy friends. He watched as they talked. One of them made a joke and Danny laughed, when his eyes opened again his gaze drifted towards Dash and the impossible familiarity hit him like a train.
The conversation with Wes seemed to open the dam in his brain and Dash's mind was whirling. Memories of time spent hanging out with Phantom were flying through his head.
Walking through the forest together, Danny floating on the trail in front of him, gently pulling him down the path by the shoulder. Danny turning to face forward instead, his hand going down and grabbing Dash's hand.
Laying down in a grassy clearing together, staring up at the stars. Their hands still intertwined.
Dash's face paled, his eyes wide, and he realized he was still making eye contact with Danny who now had fear etched into his face. Dash's gaze turned back to Wes who still hadn't stopped talking.
"-and of course it'd be Manson or Foley he'd be talking to. They always follow Phantom around when he's fighting ghosts. I wonder-"
"No, he's not Phantom." Dash interrupted.
Wes stared up at him before yelling again. "Have you even been listening to me?!"
"Yeah." Dash glared down at him. "And I'm telling you it's impossible. How can a dead kid be alive or vice versa?"
"But he's-"
"Can it, Wes!" Dash shouted. "Danny Fenton is not Danny Phantom! Would you just leave it alone?"
And with that, Dash turned and walked away, his shaky hands gripping the straps of his backpack tightly.