Man, the follower count on this story is just insane and overwhelming. Thank you so much, all! This chapter is, again, not plot-heavy, but I'm giving Danny and Dipper just a little bit of time together.
I have baskets of muffins for anyone who leaves a review. I mean, I can't send them to you or anything, I'll eat them myself, but I'll do it in your honor.
"Coach Tetslaff, can I go to the – "
"No."
Danny blinked, taken aback by the coach's sharp interruption. "No?"
"You were about to ask to go to the restroom, weren't you?" Tetslaff grunted.
"Um, I – "
"Well, you can forget it. Last year you took more bathroom breaks than everyone else in the class put together. I'm sick of it. I've been going easy on you for a while, but no more. Go to the bathroom during passing period or don't go at all."
"But – but it's an emergency!" Danny spluttered. "Seriously, I'm pretty sure my bladder is about to explode!"
Tetslaff looked entirely unfazed. "Why didn't you go before class?"
"I didn't have to go then."
"Too bad. You're just going to have to hold it."
Danny ground his teeth in frustration. "Look, I mean it, I really have to go. I legitimately might end up just making a mess on the track if I wait much longer. What will you do then?"
"I'll clean it up and get you a change of shorts," Tetslaff answered dryly. "Now get back over to the shotput line, everyone's gotta make a throw."
"But Coach Tetslaff – "
Instead of answering him again, Tetslaff blew her whistle shrilly in Danny's face, leaving his ears ringing as he went back to the shotput sector, grumbling furiously under his breath the whole time. Tucker fell back in line to stand next to him, brow wrinkled in curiosity. "I didn't see your ghost sense go off," he said quietly.
"It didn't," Danny muttered.
"Well then, what was that about?"
Danny glanced around, seeing if Dipper was within earshot. Luckily, he spotted him over on the track, with the group currently working on running hurdles. "Remember yesterday, when I said a freshman held me up getting to class?"
"Actually, you just said they were 'being weird'," Tucker said. "But go on."
"Dipper was that freshman. He'd dropped his bag in the hall, and when I was putting his stuff back into it… it hurt. Felt like I was sticking my hand down the barrel of one of dad's weapons. And now he's been keeping his eye on me, not letting me anywhere near that backpack."
"Ah, classic story of wanting what you can't have, huh, Danny?"
"Tucker."
"Sorry, I'm taking this seriously, I am. But, come on, you said he's the nephew of that ghost expert, right? Doesn't seem so weird that he'd want to keep an ecto-weapon around, for protection or something."
Danny shook his head. "If that's the case, why is he hiding it, and from me specifically? My parents are ghost hunters, it's not like he'd be embarrassed about me finding out he's got a ghost weapon."
"Huh, guess that's true…" Tucker said slowly. "Okay, how about this, maybe he nicked his ghost weapon out of Fentonworks. He looks like the kind of kid who could be sneaky if he puts his mind to it. Maybe he slipped down into the lab yesterday while he was at your house, grabbed something shiny, and doesn't want you to know he stole something from you?"
"No, he started acting like this yesterday morning. As in, before he ever came to my house. Can't be that."
Tucker shrugged. "Fine. Maybe he's carrying around a non-ghost weapon, maybe a whole bag full of vials of acid, and he's planning to use it to attack people all over the school, and he's afraid that you're on to his little game."
Danny scowled. "I thought you said you were taking this seriously."
"No, no, I am. But I ran out of serious ideas. So, guess you're just gonna have to wait until it's unattended, go ghost, and take a look?"
"That's what I was trying to do. This is the only time I've ever seen him let that bag out of his sight, and Tetslaff's decided to go all prison warden on us. Maybe I could make myself throw up or something, get sent to the nurse."
Tucker wrinkled his nose up at the thought. "Ew. You're not planning on doing that every time you have to get out of gym, are you? Your breath is gonna become a deadly weapon."
"Fine, fine, I won't do that," Danny said. They had reached the front of the line for the shotput, and Tucker scooped up one of the heavy balls, tucked it into his shoulder, and launched it as hard as he could. The ball bounced to a halt no more than three feet away, and a few snickers rose up from the students in line behind them.
"Say, Tucker," Danny whispered. "How badly do you think I could injure myself with one of those balls? Bad enough to go to the nurse?"
"Are you serious?" Tucker hissed back. "You're really that desperate to get into that backpack?"
"I'm that desperate. I've got ghost healing powers, it'll mend itself."
Tucker sighed and threw his hands up in surrender. "All right, go nuts. It's your funeral."
With a nod, Danny stepped up to the white line, picking up one of the shotput balls. Carefully, he set up his stance the way Tetslaff had demonstrated – palm out, the weight of the ball on his fingers, hand tucked along his cheek. Then, with a grunt of effort, he threw the ball. Straight down onto his foot.
He bit his lip to keep himself from yelping as the sharp squelch sounded and his foot immediately began throbbing in pain. He could even hear some sympathetic intakes of breath from the students behind him. Tucker hurried over, and the two of them pried Danny's shoe off, both wincing when they saw the spot of red that had soaked through his sock.
"Coach Tetslaff!" Tucker called, spotting her across the track. "We've got an injury!"
He appeared to have stopped her in the middle of yelling at Dash about something or another – honestly, with Dash, there was no end to the possibilities of what she could be getting mad at him for. Tetslaff glanced between Dash and Tucker, apparently torn between continuing her diatribe and tending to an injured student. It seemed the injury won out, because she snapped, "Detention, Mr. Baxter. For the rest of the week," before stomping over to the shotput circle.
"All right, what's going on here?" she demanded as she approached. "Fenton, you hurt?"
"Yeah," Danny said, putting on his best wounded-puppy face. "The shotput ball, I hit myself in the foot with it. I think it might be broken."
Tetslaff stared at Danny's bleeding foot, incredulity written across her face. "Are you serious, Fenton? How the hell did you manage to throw the shotput ball at your foot?!"
"Um, well, you know," Danny replied with a timid shrug. "I'm clumsy."
"Clumsy? Fenton, were you not paying any attention at all when I went over how to throw for shotput? Honestly, of all the goddamned – "
"Uh, Coach Tetslaff?" Tucker interrupted. "Shouldn't Danny go to the nurse?"
"Right, right, fine," Tetslaff grunted. "You can split the hall pass with Pines. Between the two of you, you've got two good legs, you can make it down there."
"Wait, Pines?" Danny asked. An eerie, sinking feeling began to settle in his stomach.
"Yeah." Tetslaff pointed with her thumb to a bench next to the hurdles, where Danny now noticed Dipper Pines sitting, a washcloth held against his knee and rivulets of red snaking down his leg. "Mr. Baxter over here – " she shot a deathly scowl toward Dash – "thought it'd be real funny to kick one of the hurdles over while people were running them. Lucky the kid's kneecap didn't shatter. Reckless, thoughtless little…" Her muttering continued under her breath, and Danny was sure he caught a few words that weren't intended for young ears.
Still seething, Tetslaff ripped a hall pass from her clipboard and shoved it into Danny's hands. Danny cast one last hopeless look toward Tucker before straightening up and hobbling toward Dipper. Great, he thought, just great. He smashed his foot and he still didn't get a chance to peek into that bag.
Life wasn't fair.
He reached Dipper at the bench, and could see now that the kid had his eyes screwed shut and his teeth clenched, breathing deeply through the pain in his bloodied left knee. Danny felt bad for him – of course, he would have felt much worse for him were he not so frustrated with him at the moment, but that was neither here nor there. "Asphalt really did a number on you, huh?"
Dipper wrenched his eyes open. "Yeah," he said, the strain in his voice not quite disguised. "Guess you're taking me over to the nurse?"
"Actually, we're taking each other," Danny said, lifting his foot to show Dipper the blood on it.
"Ouch," Dipper mumbled with a grimace. "Well, let's get this over with." Slowly he climbed off the bench and stood up straight, or at least, at straight as he could while trying to keep all his weight on his right leg.
Danny slipped his arm around Dipper's back and onto his shoulder. Dipper was shorter than him, but not so much that he couldn't comfortably keep him upright. "Come on," Danny said. "We'll three-legged-race this, okay?"
Dipper nodded, and the two of them set off into the school, ignoring the scattering drops of scarlet they left in their wake. It was uncomfortably silent for a little while. Danny kept trying to think of a lead-in to a conversation, but all he really wanted to talk to Dipper about was that damn backpack. Still, he doubted Dipper would be up for a pleasant chat about it, so he selected a different topic instead. "So, this was Dash's doing, I hear?" he asked.
"Dash… is he the blond one with the shoulders?"
"That's Dash."
"Then yeah, it was him. Is he kind of, um…"
"A jerk?" Danny supplied. "Obnoxious? The crown king of assholes?"
Dipper snorted. "Okay, good, I wasn't just imagining things. Does he do this sort of thing often, then?"
"It's his bread and butter. Trust me, as someone who's been his favorite chew toy for years, you do not want him to take an interest in you."
Dipper peered up at Danny. "Favorite chew toy?"
Danny sighed. "Let's just say I'm not the most popular guy at Casper High. And Dash especially likes to make my life miserable whenever the opportunity strikes. Not exactly a fun time for me."
Dipper turned his gaze back to his feet, or, his foot, which he and Danny were still placing slowly and cautiously. "I know the feeling."
"Do you?" Danny asked. "How many times have you been stuffed into your own locker, huh?"
"I don't know. I lost count."
Danny stopped in his tracks, nearly causing Dipper to tip forward at the sudden halt. "Wait, are you serious?"
"Yeah," Dipper answered, furrowing his brow at Danny's change in tone. "And once in a sousaphone case. Took hours before someone finally got me out. I decided to drop out of band after that one."
"…Huh." Danny continued moving forward, but this time he was looking at Dipper rather than his feet. Now that he thought about it, Dipper was the sort of kid who would make a prime target for bullies. Short, scrawny, bookish, timid, and, if Danny's impression of him so far was correct, pretty awkward. "You know, Dash once forced me to eat a pair of undershorts. Like, actually eat it."
Dipper nodded in understanding. "Had something a bit like that happen back in middle school, except it was a live goldfish instead of underwear. Still not enjoyable."
"And in elementary school, whichever kid picked me for Secret Santa would get me coal. Don't know how they managed to talk their parents into going along with that, but they did it."
"My whole class would straight-up refuse to get me cards on Valentine's day."
"Ever been tied to the flagpole?" Danny asked.
"Naturally. Had your clothes tossed into the dumpster during gym class?"
"Of course. Rotten eggs in your backpack?"
"Never got the smell out. They steal your school projects often?"
"Obviously, that's just classic. Swirlies?"
"Once in one that hadn't been flushed beforehand."
Danny shuddered. "Good God," he said. "We should start making bingo cards or something. Hand out candy bars if you get five in a row."
"Sure. Bonus points will be handed out based on severity of injuries and cost of property damage."
Danny snorted. Of all the things that he and Dipper could bond over, he never would have expected it to be sharing bullying experiences. But it seemed to be doing the job. This was the least tense he had seen Dipper since he'd met him, and he himself had even finally stopped thinking about what the kid could be hiding long enough to just chat. Maybe Dash had done some good this time, if you ignored the part where Dipper tore his knee open on the track.
By this point they had arrived at the front office, and they sank into two of the stiff metal chairs lining the front wall while the receptionist paged the nurse.
"So, I take it that I'll still have to worry about that sort of thing at this school?" Dipper asked Danny as they waited for the nurse to come out.
"Yeah. Sorry. I know, it sucks. If it helps, I'm usually pretty good at taking the brunt of it. As long as you stay off Dash's radar, it won't be so bad."
"He already injured me in gym class and got detention for it," Dipper pointed out. "I think I'm already on his radar."
"Oh yeah. Well, in that case… um, best of luck to you."
"Thanks," Dipper said, the single syllable drenched in sarcasm.
Danny chuckled, and the two of them sat up as the nurse finally arrived. "Which one of you first?" she asked.
"You go ahead," Danny said. "Think the bleeding on my foot's nearly stopped already."
Dipper glanced uncertainly toward the nurse and back to Danny. The latter was tempted to point out that if he needn't worry about him taking off and trying to get to his backpack; the receptionist was still here keeping a close eye on him. It seemed, though, that Dipper figured that out himself, since he nodded and followed the nurse into her office. "See you later, Danny," he said as he walked by.
"Yeah. See you, Dipper." Danny watched as the nurse shut her door, then he stretched in his seat to get comfortable, crossing his legs and resting his folded hands behind his head.
The kid was growing on him, he realized. Who would have guessed it?