I realized while cleaning out some tumblr drafts that I never posted the last two of these oneshots. Sorry about that
Unflinching
4/27/16
Lancer was droning. On and on and on and on. Talking about something that he should probably be listening to, but no matter how hard he tried to focus, the words didn't seem to mean anything to him.
He blinked his eyes open, realizing that they had been closed too long. Not good. He really shouldn't fall asleep in math again. Or maybe this was history? Huh. He wasn't even sure anymore. He should probably…
He kept his head from drooping just in time to keep it from thunking on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remind himself of the dire consequences of falling asleep, of getting caught snoozing in class, of drooling over his textbook, of getting assigned to another detention, of the school contacting his parents.
Yeah, that would be bad, he had to remind himself. Not good. Not…
He blinked, and realized that he probably hadn't heard a single thing Lancer had said in the past five minutes. Ten minutes? Probably the entire class, if he was truly honest with himself. The guy's voice just had that effect on him, what could he say? It also didn't help that he hadn't really had a full night's sleep in over a week.
Stupid ghosts. Stupid, stupid…
Sleep. Sleep would be a good thing. But. Not here. Not in class. Because that was not the place to sleep.
He focused on the edge of the chalkboard. Blinked when he started seeing double erasers. Then the bird sitting on the sunny windowsill of the classroom until it flew away. Then the shining patch on top of his teacher's bald head.
It was mesmerizing the way it swung back and forth. Back. And forth. Back and…
He dreamt of ghosts.
He always dreamt of ghosts, of glowing green that covered everything, of clawed hands that sliced through the sky, of red eyes that narrowed before the attack. He dreamt of electricity streaming through him, too much for any human body to hold. He dreamt of his enemies targeting the people he loved and the people he loved shooting at him. He dreamt of cracked pavement and broken bones, and messy stitches in his side and blood stained jeans, of being controlled and being dissected…
He bolted upright, barely reigning in an ectoblast when Lancer dropped the teacher's manual on the desktop beside him. His heart raced until he caught Sam's sharp eyes and Tucker's sympathetic glance. No ghosts, then. Nothing he needed to worry about. Just…
He blinked up at his teacher, trying to come up with an apologetic grin but from the expression on Lancer's face, it turned out like more of a grimace. Lancer's palms came down with a smack and then they gripped the edges on each side of his desk.
"Do you know…" Lancer asked, clearly trying to remain calm, "how much trouble you are in right now?"
Danny couldn't help the yawn.
Eyes narrowing, the Vice Principal stood up straight again and counted off on his fingers. "Late to school this morning, failing your math quiz, falling asleep in class… not to mention disappearing halfway through your detention last night. I'd give you another one but I don't foresee it going any better than the last five."
Danny blinked up slowly, trying to digest this. "So… I'm in pretty big trouble, is what you're saying?"
"More trouble," Lancer ground out through gritted teeth, "than you can possibly imagine."
Danny stared at him for a long moment, too tired to even pretend that Lancer saying those words meant something to him. Because, somehow, Danny doubted it.