Author's note: I hit some milestones with the last chapter! 200 reviews, 200 favorites, and 20,000 views! Thank you all so much! I'm happy that you guys are liking this, especially since I had no ideas for how to continue it when I first uploaded what I thought was just a one-shot. ^^
I just got back from a month and a half-long vacation which included a month-long road trip. My skin/eczema was really acting up in addition to intermittent headaches and sunburns and horrible neck muscle strain. I tried to combat all the inflammation in my body with ibuprofen, but I just couldn't stop thinking about Danny starting out the same way. And then I saw a billboard on the way home that said something like "painkillers are easy to get into but hard to get out of! :D" And I was like "this story is haunting me. D:"
(after being) Disparaged
"You ready to go, Jack?"
Maddie took one last look in the mirror next to the front door. She ran her fingers through her hair, checked for make-up smudges. She wanted to make a good impression on the therapist she and Jack had selected for Danny. She certainly didn't want him to think she was an unfit mother. She wanted to come across as presentable and caring and totally sane.
Jack appeared next to her. "What's that?" he asked curiously, pointing to the bag she was carrying.
Maddie looked down at the bag. It contained a Thermos, a small ecto-gun, and a dart gun ready to shoot her molecule-halting concoction she still hadn't named. "Ghost-hunting equipment."
Jack blinked. "Huh." He crossed his arms in thought. "And why are you bringing ghost-hunting equipment? Are you expecting something to happen?"
"No," said Maddie casually, "but I want to be prepared."
"Prepared?"
"For Phantom."
"Phantom," Jack echoed. "It's been a while since you've mentioned him."
"I haven't given up on him," said Maddie as she walked out the front door. "I've just been preoccupied with Danny's issues. But you know how elusive Phantom is. I'm tired of him always getting away or not being prepared when he does happen to show up. I'm not letting that happen again." She tapped her bag. "The hunt is on. I plan on going out more often at night, too."
"It really would be something to capture him," said Jack. "We could learn so much from him. And imagine all of the publicity and funding we'd get for future inventions. Our names would forever be in ghost textbooks."
"I don't care so much about glory," said Maddie. "This is all for the pursuit of knowledge."
"Don't lie to me. I know you want to gloat about it and stick it to everyone who told us we were crazy."
Maddie laughed. "Okay, you got me there."
The therapist's office was situated above a pizza restaurant. Jack's eyes were round and wide as they passed the entrance to the restaurant. "That smells way too good."
Maddie led him up the stairs to the offices above. "Don't get distracted, Jack."
"This place must have the best therapy ever. When you're done, you can get pizza! Or eat it before. Or during." Jack hummed to himself as he considered all the delicious possibilities.
"Well, you know our son," said Maddie. "He doesn't eat when he's nervous, so I doubt he'd even be tempted when he's here."
"I wish I had that problem." Jack patted his overweight belly a few times.
The therapist greeted both of them warmly. He was a young man with a head full of blond hair and quite the winning smile.
"Jack and Maddie Fenton, pleasure to meet you both. I'm Brandan Cross." He shook Jack's hand first, then Maddie's. "You're the one I spoke with on the phone, correct?" he asked while holding Maddie's hand.
"I am indeed." Maddie gave him her own best smile. She had seen his picture beforehand and knew he was handsome even before this moment, and although her heart was completely devoted to Jack, her naturally flirty nature always came out when in the presence of an attractive man.
Brandan instructed the couple to sit on a comfortable couch in his office while he sat in an office chair across from them. He began by introducing himself and his work as a child psychologist who specialized in depression, anxiety, and substance abuse in adolescents in addition to a number of other areas. Maddie listened intently, nodding and noting his credentials.
And then Brandan asked them to talk about themselves. Jack happily rambled about himself and how much he adored his wife. Maddie blushed both from embarrassment and flattery.
"Ghost research." Brandan sounded intrigued when Jack brought this up. "That's right. You two are the resident ghost experts of Amity Park. How is that going? Any progress on a plan to eliminate the ghosts here altogether?"
"We're working on it," said Jack, "although Maddie's particularly set on one ghost."
Maddie elbowed him. "Jack!"
"Well, it's true! You even brought that ghost hunting bag into this office."
Maddie looked down at the bag on the floor by her legs. "I just want to be prepared."
Brandan frowned just a little as he noted the bag. "What ghost are we talking about?"
"The ghost kid," said Jack.
"Danny Phantom, you mean?" Like everyone else in town, Brandan seemed to know exactly who this was. "Same first name as your son." He leaned forward and pressed his fingertips together. "And speaking of your son, let's talk about him now. We talked a little about him on the phone, but I of course want to know more before I see him this afternoon. He's in school right now, correct?"
"Right." Maddie decided to take the initiative, not sure if Jack would be able to adequately describe their son's issues. "He's a sophomore, fifteen, almost sixteen."
"Tough age," said Brandan. "But also an exciting one. Is he close to getting his driver's license, then?"
"Um, well…" Maddie hesitated. "He doesn't really like driving. He rarely wants to practice. I have to force him to do it, usually." She glanced at Jack. "You see, Danny is…well, like I told you over the phone, he has a lot of anxiety and insecurities. And I think driving really heightens that."
"That's not uncommon for someone with anxiety," said Brandan.
"But he really is a good kid. Jack and I couldn't have asked for a better son, really. He's mild-mannered, obedient, polite." Maddie smiled fondly to herself. "He was always such a sweetheart when he was little, and that hasn't really changed now that he's a teenager, honestly." Her smiled faltered. "But he's also always been pretty sensitive. He always hated to get in trouble, was the kind of person to blame himself for anything that went wrong, or he'd just internalize every little mistake he made and obsess over it until he fixed it."
Brandan made a note on his notepad but did not say anything.
"But he still did okay in school. He still had some friends. He seemed happy." She paused. "Until he started high school. And then things seemed to change with him."
"High school can have that effect," said Brandan with a small smile.
Maddie returned the smile and continued with her narrative of Danny, of how his grades started slipping and how he started being late to classes or even skipping classes altogether, something he had never done before. His problems with bullies and how he seemed to only ever hang out with just his two best friends Sam and Tucker and no others even though he used to hang out with other friends at least sometimes. His fatigue at odd times of the day or his restlessness at night. The way he always looked so tired in the morning at breakfast, as if he never got enough sleep.
And how secretive he suddenly was when he used to be fairly open with her and Jack about everything.
"Admittedly, Jack and I were not as attentive to Danny as we should've been." Maddie looked down at her lap in shame. "Neither one of us wanted to believe that there was anything wrong at all, I suppose."
"And that's why I want to meet with you two regularly as well," said Brandan. "As his parents, you two are going to have a great influence on the success of his treatment, especially while he's still living with you."
"Of course," said Maddie with a glance at Jack. "We'll do anything."
"So, you've talked a lot about reasons for his possible anxiety and depression. Can you tell me about his use of analgesics?"
Maddie sighed deeply. "Truthfully, I don't know a whole lot about it. I don't know when it started or even why it started. He only just confirmed it for me two days ago. I'm still surprised you could fit us in so quickly."
"Mondays aren't usually that busy for me," explained Brandan.
"Anyway, I just didn't want to pressure him too much into telling me." She looked at Brandan worriedly. "Was that the wrong thing to do? Should I have made him tell me?"
"Might not have done much good," said Brandan. "It's probably a good idea to build a level of trust so that he'll be more comfortable talking about it."
"Well, we're hoping you can help with that," said Maddie. "Maybe if he had someone other than his parents to talk to, he'd be more willing to open up."
"That can help, yes."
Maddie continued by describing how Danny had snuck out one night to see Sam and didn't return until after one in the morning. Immediately after that, he had a noticeable change in demeanor, unusually avoidant and agitated. After a tip from Sam's mother, it didn't take her long to conclude that Danny was taking far more painkillers than was reasonable or even safe for him to take.
"He finally confessed to me that he had gone to see his friend Sam to get narcotics," said Maddie. "You see, he's just not the type to sneak out just to be rebellious or to fool around, and especially with the way he was acting, I was sure there was more to it."
"I see," said Brandan. "And you don't know how long this has been going on? Was that his first time sneaking out?"
"First time that we know of," said Jack.
"Right. I mean, I don't usually check on him in the middle of the night. That was kind of a coincidence," said Maddie.
Brandan nodded and made several notes on his notepad.
"Listen, can you tell us what you think is best for Danny?" asked Maddie. "Jack and I have no idea, and I just want to be sure we're doing the right thing. Do you think we should put him in a program?"
"That depends on how we think he'd do in a program," said Brandan. "A program can be effective, but he'd be with other teens struggling with substance abuse, and often, those kids can be pretty rough." Brandan sucked his teeth, as if recalling his memories of working in such programs. "So, it depends on how deep his apparent addiction is, how open he is to treatment, and how he would fare with other teens in that program when he is as sensitive as you claim he is." He made another note. "I think a detox treatment should definitely be done, and I would also suggest a physical and blood work to see if he has any hormonal imbalances that could be factoring in. But aside from therapy, he might not need a full program. If you'd like, I can give you a recommendation when I meet with him this afternoon."
"That'd be great," said Maddie. "Thank you."
"What do you think we should do about his friends?" asked Jack. "In particular, his friend Sam who has been giving him the narcotics in the first place. Should we allow him to keep hanging out with her, or…?"
"That's difficult for me to say right now," said Brandan. "But I would caution against letting them be alone together at her house. Or alone anywhere, really. Truthfully, you're going to want to have someone keeping an eye on him at all times for a while."
"What about his phone, then?" asked Jack. "I mean, we took it away as punishment for sneaking out, but do you think we should continue to keep it from him?"
"We don't want to completely cut off his social life," said Brandan. "But you should definitely monitor his phone and computer activity. But let him know. Don't keep it secret from him. Be stricter at first, maybe have him give you his phone at night and look through his messages daily, but as his treatment progresses, you can be more lenient. Again, I can give recommendations and guide you through that as I continue meeting with all of you."
"So we should look through his messages?" clarified Maddie.
"He's going to hate it," said Brandan. "No one likes such invasion of privacy. But he can choose to not use his phone or social media accounts at all if he doesn't want you reading his messages."
"We actually did look through his phone messages and e-mails Saturday," said Jack thoughtfully. "After we found out what was going on. But we didn't find any noteworthy messages."
"Right," said Maddie. "Not even one to Sam about going to her house Wednesday night."
"And there's no way he had time to delete them because we kind of caught him off-guard when we took his phone and computer," said Jack. He thought for a moment. "Although I guess it's possible that he anticipated us doing that and only pretended to be so surprised."
"It's certainly possible," replied Brandan, "but teens are pretty resourceful nowadays. There are texting apps that are disguised as something else for the sole purpose of keeping conversations hidden from snooping parents."
Maddie and Jack exchanged glances. "You think he could be using an app like that?" asked Maddie.
"I can't say for sure," said Brandan, "but if you weren't able to find anything in his messages, it's a strong possibility."
Maddie mulled this over. Could Danny really be that secretive? Could he have really gone that far just to keep this from her? And if that were true, was there anything else he was keeping from her? She had managed to convince herself that this was it, that she had solved the mystery of why he had snuck out and why he had been struggling so much since beginning high school, but what if that wasn't all there was?
Maddie leaned over and rested her head in her hands.
"Maddie?" Jack put a hand on her back.
"What's on your mind, Maddie?" asked Brandan with a practiced therapist's tone.
"I'm just…afraid." Maddie kept her head down as she spoke. "I'm afraid of what more we might find out, of what this will do to him or our relationship with him."
"You clearly love him a lot," said Brandan softly. "Based on what you've told me about him, I'm sure he'll feel that."
Maddie raised her head and blinked back tears as she looked up at the ceiling. "I really don't want to do this to him. I don't want to put him through this."
Jack put his arm around her.
"No parent wants to see her child suffer," said Brandan. "And this will be a difficult process for him." He leaned forward. "But at least you care enough to get him help. Do you have any idea how many parents don't care about their children at all? How many teens with drug issues the state ends up having to take away from their homes because their parents are unable or unwilling to help them overcome their addictions?"
Maddie sniffled and smiled but did not say anything.
Brandan handed her a box of tissues. "And listen, be sure to not make him feel like therapy is a terrible thing meant only for those really screwed-up in the head." He chuckled. "Everyone on this planet needs therapy for something, honestly. Even I have a colleague I talk with sometimes."
Maddie considered this, wondered what she herself needed therapy for. She had never given much thought to her own mental and emotional health. Was there indeed some personal problem she should be talking to an expert about?
Well, she couldn't think about herself now. Her son came first. As long as he was well and healthy, she was sure she'd be just fine.
She glanced down at the bag by her feet.
And if she could just capture Phantom, she'd be the happiest scientist in the world.
"I like him," said Jack as he drove home with Maddie in the passenger seat. "Nice guy. I think Danny will respond well to him."
"I think so, too," said Maddie. She groaned. "But now I need to call Pam. I can't keep putting that off."
"Danny and Sam are such good friends," said Jack. "Knowing Pam, she's not going to want Danny anywhere near her daughter after you tell her."
"Well, her daughter isn't completely innocent here," retorted Maddie bitterly. "She's been enabling this drug habit of Danny's, and who knows? Maybe she's dabbling in drugs herself."
"We shouldn't be speculating on that," said Jack gently.
"I know. You're right." Maddie put a hand to her head. "I just hate giving Pam yet another reason to look down her nose at us."
"She would've found another reason all on her own," said Jack with a smirk.
"We also need to talk with Jazz."
"About Danny's treatment?"
"Yes, but also…" Maddie bit her lip. "I didn't tell you, but when I tried asking Jazz about Danny possibly abusing painkillers, she actually tried to pretend that she was the one taking them." She looked at Jack. "That's odd, right? Why would she do that?"
"That is odd," agreed Jack. "As if she already knew but wanted to protect him."
"And that just doesn't seem like her. She was always so keen to analyze Danny and wouldn't hesitate to get him in trouble if she was aware he was doing something he shouldn't."
"I agree. That is strange." Jack tapped the steering wheel a couple times. "We're likely going to discover a lot of new things about our kids."
Maddie nodded and leaned back in her seat, looked straight ahead at the road. She couldn't help but be afraid to learn just what she didn't know about her children, especially Danny.
But she'd be sure to keep their family together no matter what secrets were revealed.
-DP-
During Lancer's boring lecture on who even had any idea what, Danny flexed and massaged his aching arm underneath his desk. He had spent a couple hours the past two nights trying to duplicate himself, but he had the most difficult time just getting his arm to divide.
And the effects of so much splitting and tearing for hours were really starting to make themselves known. His whole arm felt like it had been shot with a dose of tetanus, locked up and heavy and so irritatingly sore.
Yes, irritatingly. He really did not have time for this. He had to figure out how to duplicate himself as soon as possible (why was it so damn hard?), and all of this pain was just getting in his way.
But he hadn't taken anything for the pain. No medication at all, not even the narcotics he still had hidden in his wall. See? He didn't have an addiction. He could stop himself when he wanted to. Sure, it had been tempting as hell, but the point was that he did resist. He could handle pain. He didn't have to resort to numbing it with meds.
Although they really did work so quickly and effectively and prevented him from dreaming when he slept which was always a plus especially since lately his dreams were all nightmares.
"Danny, you okay?" asked Tucker in a hushed voice as he turned around to face him and Sam. Lancer had instructed them to work on their group reports, and as usual, the three friends were working together.
"Fine." Danny lifted his arm, stretched it out one last time, and then picked up his pencil. "I just wish I had tried duplicating my left arm instead. That was stupid of me."
"I don't remember you being sore after trying to duplicate before," said Sam curiously.
"I never tried for hours at a time before," replied Danny. "I guess it's kind of like how you get sore after working out, you know? It won't hurt once I finally get it, I'm sure."
"And you will get it," said Tucker. "Don't stress over it."
Don't stress. Don't be so glum. Don't worry. Can't you be happy again, Danny?
Impossible requests. How could he possibly feel anything other than these negative feelings ever again? All of this frustration and agitation and consternation—
He winced as he tried to write something.
—and God all of this goddamned pain that he could not even take anything for without being accused of being an addict by even his own sister!
"Danny?" questioned Sam with concern.
"I'm fine. Seriously, don't worry about me."
"Have you taken anything for it?" asked Sam hesitantly.
Danny eyed her warily, noting her uneasy tone. "No. Why do you ask?"
Sam glanced at Tucker. "Well, you know, just considering all that's happened. Your parents thinking you have a…well, you know."
"Do you think I have a drug problem?" Danny asked pointedly. If his best friends were going to do this to him as well, he might as well know exactly what they were thinking.
Sam fell quiet and leaned back a little.
"We know what you go through," said Tucker. "We know that you get hurt a lot. But I guess even we had no idea that you were taking enough pain medication for your parents to actually conclude you have a problem."
"What are you trying to say?"
"We're just…" Sam sighed. "Listen, just promise me that you're only using those narcotics I gave you for severe pain."
"I already promised you that."
"Danny, please. I don't mind getting in trouble for giving them to you—that was fully my decision—but maybe…maybe you should talk to Jazz before you take them from now on? Maybe we can all make that call together."
"Are you kidding me right now?" cried Danny. Several heads in the class turned in their direction. Danny leaned in closer to Sam and hissed in a low whisper, "I don't need you to tell me if I'm in pain or not."
"We know, but—"
"And how would you even know? How could you possibly decide if my pain is bad enough or not when you're not me?"
"Dude, Danny, chill," whispered Tucker quickly, raising his hands to make peace. "Sorry, okay? We're just worried about this whole thing."
Danny glared at Tucker. These two were as bad as his sister, making judgments they had no grounds to make and having the audacity to think they could understand his level of pain when they could never even begin to understand all the while insisting that it was just because they were his dear friends who just cared about him way too much to let him keep hurting himself.
Danny sat back in his seat. "Well, you don't even have to worry about it because I gave all the narcotics to my parents," he said quietly while keeping his gaze lowered to his desk.
Sam and Tucker said nothing. Did they know he was lying?
He decided to change the subject. "How has monitoring the town been going?"
"Great. We haven't seen any serious threats yet," said Tucker. "Sam and I watched together last night for a little while."
Sam smirked. "Yeah, and Tucker spent way more time than he needed to checking out Ember."
"Hey, she's one of Danny's most capable enemies!"
"She was just looking at some records in a music store."
"She could've been up to something. Maybe she wanted to write over them with her hypnotic music."
"She doesn't even need to sing to hypnotize you. She had you totally transfixed."
"Okay, I admit it. She's hot, all right? You got me." Tucker held up his hands. "I mean, wow, she is really hot. Like, li—"
"You say 'literally,' and I will deck you," said Sam.
Tucker huffed. "I highly doubt that. Not while we're in class."
Sam rested her chin on her hands. "Try me, tech-boy."
The corners of Danny's mouth were twitching and begging to move upwards. He coughed and looked down, refocused on the pain in his arm because that was the only thing that was real now and the only thing he should be thinking about because everything that had happened this past week was horrible and there was no way he could find anything to be happy about right now.
He tried to write something down, but a spasm in his wrist caused him to yelp before he could stop himself.
Sam's hands wrapped around his sore arm. She gently massaged it. "How's that?" she asked.
Danny blushed at her touch, her soothing rubbing and squeezing motions. "Um…good."
If only she could touch other parts of him like that—
Danny pulled his arm away. Sam had a gift for sending his mind straight to the gutter quicker than any other girl he had ever had an interest in, and he really didn't want to do that to himself right now. "Ah, um, we should really get to work on this project."
"Yeah, well, I don't think you're going to be much help if you can't write anything." Sam sighed. "I guess it's all up to me once again."
"You're the best, Sam. We'd be lost without you," said Tucker.
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
"But Danny, if trying to duplicate yourself really hurts that much, then maybe you should give it a rest? Or maybe only try for half an hour?" asked Tucker.
"I have to get it by Thursday. It's either that or…" Danny groaned.
"The Fenton Ghost Catcher?" Tucker grinned. "It totally works. You're still more than capable of fighting ghosts even when you're split in half."
"Yeah, but I don't like keeping the humanity out of my ghost side." Danny lowered his voice. "I mean, that's what led to…you know." He didn't want to say it, to bring up the possibility of his dark future and ultimate enemy right here.
"It would just be temporary," said Sam. "You'll get the hang of duplicating soon enough, I'm sure."
"But until then, if you have to use the Ghost Catcher…" Tucker shot a mischievous look at Sam.
"What?" asked Sam.
Tucker gleefully grinned. "I call the Fun Danny!"
Sam's jaw dropped with a disbelieving gasp. "No way, you got him last time!"
"And I get him next time, too."
"That's not fair, you jerk!"
The two continued their playful argument. Danny's mouth once again twitched, and he could feel himself shaking.
But no, he couldn't feel this way. Such a feeling would betray everything that had happened, would make light of something that really was terrible and awful and unfair.
He couldn't laugh. He couldn't feel joy. Not with all this pain he knew he had to keep enduring just living in the same house as his mother who unknowingly kept inflicting the worst pain on him he had ever felt. It made no sense to be happy now. It would negate everything and reduce its significance and it was all way too big a deal for him to just laugh now.
But why was he thinking that? Why was he giving his negative feelings so much control? Who said he couldn't laugh right now if he wanted to?
He was giving her too much control. She still had him down on his knees. She still had him feeling so powerless and frightened. She was still holding a gun to his head and threatening to shoot him if he even dared to feel anything but the emasculation she wanted him to feel.
And he was really sick of it.
Tucker and Sam were still bickering about laying claim to his "fun" side.
That was just too hilarious.
He couldn't hold back any longer. He broke into uncontrollable laughter that began quiet and grew louder. Sam and Tucker stopped their jocular quarrel and stared at him in stunned silence.
His abdomen was tensing and seizing. His cheeks were hurting from being stretched so far.
But this kind of pain just felt so good for once. And as he reveled in this feeling that he hadn't felt in way too long, the elation and hilarity of it all only increased.
"Dude, Fenton, what the hell is wrong with you?" demanded Dash from across the room.
He couldn't reply. He couldn't talk at all. He could barely pull in enough air as tears streamed down his face.
"Mr. Fenton," said the drawling voice of Lancer. He approached and stood right next to Danny. "What is so funny that you have to disrupt my class with such incessant laughter?"
Danny gulped in air and tried to answer. "It's actually—it's not—really not that funny at all—but—" He broke into another fit of laughter but quelled it with deep breathing. "But doesn't it just feel so good to laugh?" He swept his fingers over his eyes that were still tearing up. "It does. It really does. Oh, my God, it's the best."
He calmed a little, his hearty laughter turning into chuckles. Lancer was still beside him, but to Danny's surprise as he looked up at his teacher, the older man was smiling.
"Well," Lancer began with a warm tone, "it's certainly an improvement, I suppose, considering how mopey you were the end of last week."
"Oh." Danny's eyes fell a little. "You noticed that?"
"Of course I noticed." Lancer put an amicable hand on his shoulder. "I've been your teacher for nearly two years now." He used a single finger to gesture to the three friends. "I'm glad you're feeling good again, but do you think you can get back to work now?"
Danny smiled and nodded. He turned to Sam and Tucker as Lancer walked away. They stared at him curiously with smiles of their own.
"What?" asked Danny sheepishly.
"Lancer's right," said Sam. "It's nice to see you happy again."
"Yeah. We were both really starting to worry about you," said Tucker.
"It's nice to feel happy again." He thought about having to go home later, about having to be with his mother in just a few hours. "Even if it doesn't last long."
"But you can feel it again," assured Sam. "And you can feel it for longer."
"This will all be in the past someday," said Tucker. "And we'll help you get past this so you can be happy all the time again."
Happy again?
All the time?
Danny smiled to himself as he considered this. Just minutes before, that had seemed like an impossibility, but now, he felt something he hadn't in a while.
Hope. Hope for his future, hope for a time when this would all be over and everything would be okay and he wouldn't feel so much anxiety and depression and pain.
She didn't want him to feel hope. She wanted him to be afraid of her.
But he couldn't keep giving her such control over him. He had to take back his power.