Cirque Berserk
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5
Tension
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He was feeling awkward.
Severely awkward ,as he walked down a familiar path in the town he had once resided in. His hand unconsciously went to his bottom lip, touching the place where his piercing would be fitted. He had taken them all off and ditched his utterly gloomy attire. Instead he donned a painfully ordinary t-shirt matched along with jeans and sneakers. His hair was still spiked up – as he had always done since he had left Amity Park – but he felt strangely naked without his usually dark and menacing clothing.
Many would keep their distance when he wore his stage clothes. But he wanted to roam around the town; he wanted to see the changes, the people; smell the familiar scents of his childhood home and admire the places he and his friends would once hang out in.
He felt nostalgic when he slowly walked past the Nasty Burger – wistfully watching as a laughing teenager flanked with friends, who would probably be there for him through thick and thin, entered the fast food restaurant.
He sighed and continued to walk, pausing only once to let a pregnant woman wobble past him – hands full of grocery – and helping her when she inevitably dropped her bags. She smiled gratefully at him, her brows creasing with recognition, and said: "I've seen you somewhere before."
Danny didn't freeze up. He was used to this reaction.
Thankfully he had a well-rehearsed response to it.
"I'm part of Cirque Gothica, ma'am," he smiled, holding her bags in his hands. He tried to keep his face as neutral as possible – the bags were starting to weigh on him and he wondered how a woman with child could ever carry such heavy things.
Hormones, he thought silently, watching as her expression morphed to that of shock before changing to excitement.
"Oh! You're the handsome boy from the poster!"
"Uh, thanks?" he said unsurely, not used to this response. Usually, they would ask for his autograph or try to coax a discount out of him – or straight out send him a sneer matched along with distasteful eyes for his career option.
"My son admires you," she said kindly. "Recently he's bought tickets for your show. I'm coming too – I hear your show is something out of this world."
Danny only kept his smile. "So they say."
"I do hope you live up to the title," she joked good naturely.
"Oh, I do." Danny replied, finally getting a hold of the conversation. "Don't worry, you won't be disappointed. Though," he glanced down at her swollen belly and smiled sheepishly, "it isn't really for the faint of heart."
She giggled and touched her stomach. "I wouldn't worry about that! I'm not squeamish like those other girls. I'm actually a Doctor – can't have a squeamish doctor, right? What use would I be if I was!"
Danny felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten at her words. The serenity fell to his ankles and a gloom settled overhead. He cast his gaze down to his shoes and struggled to get a hold of the sudden wave of despair that washed over him. This was no time to be emotional.
Sam wanted to be a doctor...
"You alright there?" she asked concernedly.
"I'm fine, thanks," he replied, glancing at the Nasty Burger briefly to see the aforementioned teenagers still in their careless mood. He bitterly thought that perhaps they should cherish these moments – they didn't really understand how unappreciative they were until those joyful moments disappeared.
He did.
He really did.
"I have to go," he said abruptly, cutting the woman off mid-sentence. She looked slightly taken aback. He handed her the bags. "Sorry, but I'm running late – take care!" he added, continuing his walk as she waved.
He paused at a intersection, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waited for the light to change. A black car consumed him vision and Danny lifted his eyes to met two very shocked violet ones. He froze, staring back.
They stared for quite a while, neither making a move.
The light turned green yet Sam had yet to pull forward as per usual. Instead she stared back at the man she hadn't seen for the last 5 years and felt an irrevocable wave of affection flood though her system. She felt the impulsive need to leap out of the car, embrace him, give him a good knee in the groin and watch him writhe in pain as she gave him the scolding of a lifetime before giving him one last crushing hug.
A series of honks brought her back to reality, where her foot jerked to the gas, making the car lurch forward with such speed she was slammed back into her seat. Thankfully, no one had been in front of her at the time and all she got out of it was a great rush of adrenaline and a few rapid heartbeats.
She continued on her way home like usual, though this time her mind lingered on the shell-shocked expression of Daniel Fenton.
And just as she parked the car in her usual spot, pushing the door open as she usually did, and taking the regular rout that would lead to her apartment, she felt something not so usual.
She felt longing.
And hurt.
Let's not forget hurt, considering the instant she entered her house, she felt her eyes sting brutally and she figured this was the beginning of a sob-fest.
Danny locked the door behind him and rested against the door, drawing in a clear stream of air through his nose before releasing it just as easy. His heart was still hammering from the incident not too long ago.
He could feel his cheeks start to flush and his pulse quicken as he summoned the picture of her: Samantha "Sam" Manson.
He ran his fingers though his unkempt hair, sighed loudly, and decided that letting out a good, loud, groan would help ease his frustration.
"Nice Fenton," he mumbled. "You could've said 'hi', at least." He grumped to himself, moodily staring at his black trench coat, which hung haphazardly off a wooden chair near his desk. "But instead you stared." He let his gaze dip to his shoes, his regular sneakers. "... and she stared back." A small smile replaced his frown but it still did nothing to calm the constricting feel of his stomach. Many emotions had flitted through her eyes – recognition, shock, hurt, pain – and a few others he could not identify. He wondered what type of emotions shifted through his face in that private moment they both shared...
A knock made him jump, automatically transforming him into his ghost counterpart; a blazing ball of green hovering on his palm.
He blinked.
Not again.
"Uh, come in!" He quickly put out the ecot-blast and reverted back to his human shape, fixing his hair again once he caught sight of his disheveled it looked from the mirror adjacent to him.
"Danny?" a female voice called carefully. "Lydia asks if we may start our rehearsal early for she has a rather important engagement to attend in a few hours." She came into full-view, her skin a leathery, glowing, blue. Her eyes were the normal vibrant green of any ghost and her hair swirled about her in sleek curls, cascading down her back; her outfit much too skimpy to be considered decent. But Danny was already used to seeing such exposed skin, as his trips of the Ghost Zone had become more frequent during the past years.
Female ghosts tended to dress explicitly, for what reasons he could not fathom.
"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, I'll be there in a sec. Thanks ."
She looked at him oddly. "You alright, Danny?"
"What?! Oh, yeah!" He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Of course I'm fine, why wouldn't I?"
She cocked a brow but otherwise stayed silent. "I shall go round up everyone, then." She disappeared from view and Danny let out a sigh of relief.
"That was close," he glanced at himself in the mirror, prodding his forehead and cheek. "Do I really look that bad?" He shook his head and flopped on the bed.
"I'm so stupid." He mumbled under his breath, picking at his dark coloured sheets. Shes going to come to my show. He lifted his gaze. I can barely say her name without feeling bad. How the heck am I going to be able to face her?
He groaned and stuffed his face deeper into his pillows.
... She's prettier than before.
Danny set his jaw and groaned even louder. He didn't find it fair that snap shots of her persisted to plague his mind.
Especially her eyes, which seemed to have intensified in colour... and decreased in vibrancy.
They seemed almost blank and he was deftly sure that it was because of him, which wrenched him with an unstoppable amount of guilt. It felt as if his stomach was going to explode with it.
Oh, man, why do these things always happen to me? He brooded.
Someone called his name.
He stifled a sigh and sat up, cracking his back before heading towards his door and to the flock of freaks that awaited him beyond it for another rehearsal...
Breath, breath, breath—BREATH!! Were her rushed thoughts as paced back and forth in her apartment, hearing her heart drum in her ears to the point where the normal sounds of the city were droned. Dry tear streaks adorned her pale face; puffy, red eyes matching the tired limp in every step.
She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected this at all. She did not think she would meet him under such normal circumstances.
Normal?! She snorted inwardly. Nothing is normal with him around! Sam was sure his eyes had blazed an ardent emerald when they connected but she couldn't be so sure. It could have been a play of the lights; his eyes being angled in a way that made them appear green...
She groaned and flopped back on her bed, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it over her face. She could feel the awful twinge morph into a stabbing sort of sensation. It hurt to think that he was so close yet so far.
"Well," she sighed woefully. "At least – at least I don't have to attend his show, right?" Her spirits felt lifting already. "Ha! D... Danny? Running a goth show?" Sam shook her head in disbelief. "He never showed even an ounce of interest in rock music... or Gothic clothing.. or anything else that I was interested in," she sighed, "except ghosts – but that was inevitable. His family runs a Ghost Hunting agency, for crying out loud!"
Her small rant was met with infinite silence, leaving her far more frustrated than before.
She ended up grumbling to herself as she trudged to her living room, relieved that he would only be present for a few weeks for the show she used to adore. But the more she thought of him, the more conflicted she became.
How was he?
How did he become the owner of Circus Gothica?
What in the world was he thinking?
And most importantly... "Did he really have a reason?"
Her answer came in the form of Tucker jumping from his spot in her couch, guiltily hiding his PDA from view.
"T-Tucker?" Sam stumbled, "what are you doing here?" She searched for someone tall, dark, and bossy. "Where's Valerie?"
"Uh," was his genius response. "She's not here right now."
"O... kay. Why are you here then?" Sam made her way towards her dining table, pushing away the bag and sunglasses atop. "Do you need anything?"
"No... erm, not really." Tucker stood up and cautiously walked towards her, keeping his distance in a way that made her suspicious. "I, uh, used the key you have me to come in...?" He lifted his keychain to show her. "Yeah..."
What was he so anxious about?
"Something the matter?" she asked after seeing him jump when she tapped her foot."Tucker, I know you're hiding something from me. You suck at being secretive." She laughed at his horrified expression. "Oh, come on! What could be so secretive that even I can't know?"
She paused. "You're... not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?" She eyed him.
Tucker, meanwhile, was having a mini-panic attack inside. He could feel thick, wet drops of sweat drip down the side of his temple and his hands felt clammy and moist. Every little noise he would usually overlook or not hear at all made him jump for cover and his mind was reeling from the encounter with Danny.
He had to tell Sam.
He just had to.
Even if it got him pinned under a myriad of lit black candles, sharp daggers, ecto-bombs, and other dangerous things Sam kept under her bed and in her closet...
... and randomly on the floor...
The problem was that Sam wasn't very... welcoming to conversations regarding the snowy haired hero. She usually ended up spatting his name and stalking out of her room only to come out hours later, looking even more broody than when she left, as well as apologetic.
It was a process he preferred to avoid.
But this was big, this was important. And Sam had told him once that if anything regarding Danny pops up, he would tell her.
Then again... Sam was depressed and desperate for the halfa to come back... was the statement still valid five years later?
Tucker decided, yes, it was.
"U-Uh... by 'you're not gonna do exactly what I think you're gonna do' you don't mean..." he swallowed.
Sam nodded slowly. "Are you?"
"Er, yes?"
Sam sprung her eye wide open, her jaw slacking. "Oh, my God... you're actually going to – going to..."
Tucker felt a tad bit more confident now. "Yes, I'm going to tell you the truth!"
Sam grinned and jumped up from her seat, nearly knocking the chair back in the process. She clapped her hands together and smirked. "It's about time you sucked up your cowardice and did it! I'm so proud of you, Tuck!"
"Yeah!" Tucker yelled back, mildly confused. "Yeah, I'm proud of myself too?"
Sam crushed him in a hug and patted his back friendlily. "Tying the knot already, huh?"
For a moment, all Tucker could hear was an eerie beep as her words registered in his head. And when they did, he felt even more horrified than before.
"NO!" he cried, panic-stricken. "No! No way! Nu uh! Nope! Nen! Nein!" Tucker ducked from her headlock and shook his head feverishly. "I'm not going to marry Valerie, Sam, are you crazy?!"
Sam looked puzzled. "You're not?"
"NO!"
"Then what were you going to tell me that's so important you have to come to my house without Val?" Sam plopped back into her seat. "You two are usually inseparable."
"Yeah, well..." Tucker coughed awkwardly. "It's not that, okay? I'm not going to... to..." He shuddered.
"Oh, come on. Would it really be so bad if you were to tie the knot with Val?" she pressed.
"Well, no, but, you know..."
"No, I don't know," Sam smirked. "Why don't you elaborate?" She just loved making him feel uncomfortable.
"Look, Sam..." Tucker hesitated. "It's about—It's about—COOKIES!" He bailed, cursing himself inside. He had seen the tiredness in his friends eyes, the veiled sadness that sifted through them. He couldn't make her day any worse than it had already been.
Oh, crap, but I'm gonna have to tell her soon, he thought agitatedly. Maybe tomorrow. After she sleeps this day off... yeah. So he was taking the cowards way out, and?He honestly did not want to be on the receiving end of Sam's wrath. She had a tendency to play with her 'victims', as Val joked.
Humph, Tucker thought moodily, That's 'cause she's never witnessed her throwing a fit. Man, can she throw a punch! He shook his head, brushing off that days memories.
"So, cookies? Tucker, you know that I can't bake without something burning," she said dryly. Cookies? He was definitely hiding something if what he wanted to talk about was cookies.
"Y-Yeah," he stammered, frantically trying to avoid any contact with the college student. "Cook—"
Suddenly, a loud alarm blared through the room.
Sam acted quickly.
She bolted to her room soundlessly and reemerged in a suit similar to Valerie's back in the day. It was skintight and clashed menacingly with her narrowed, determined eyes. It was a combination of black and red; it held various secret compartment all filled with special Anti-Ghost devices that would help her in her battles. She heaved out her ecto-gun, sliding it in place and feeling the familiar feel of cold metal.
She dropped her gun to the floor and watched it transform into a hover board similar to Valerie's own – only this one was much sleeker, more refined and revolutionized. It floated a few feet above the floor, ready for combat.
She pulled on her fingerless gloves.
"Hold that thought, Tuck!" Sam's voice rang clearly though the mask that covered more than half of her features. "I'll be right back!" In a blink of an eye, Sam was riding out of her apartment through the open window in her living room.
Silence ensued once the alarm died out.
Tucker stood idly, the silence deafening him to the point where he groaned loudly simply to fill the gap of nothing.
"Well, at least I don't have her the truth."
"Tell who the truth?" Val pipped, slamming the door behind her. She rose a brow when his dark face paled several shades.
"N-No one..."
"Tucker..." Valerie warned, drawing closer. She dropped her backpack on Sam's couch and set her hands on her hips. "What are you hiding?"
"NOTHING!" Tucker exploded, springing to his feet. "Man, why does everyone think I'm hiding something!?"
Valerie scowled.
Tucker sighed and sank back into his chair, put out. "Right... Sam almost managed to—to make me spill where you guys are taking her," Tucker lied rather efficiently, watching his girlfriends annoyed expression melt into slight concern.
"Does she know, though?"
"Nah," he shook his head, twiddling his PDA in his hands. "I doubt it – before she managed to get it out of me, her Ghost Sensor went off."
"Ah, yes," Valerie said at length, slipping out a round, blinking, device from her pocket. She dropped it on the couch beside her bag. "That thing nearly made me crash into the car behind me when I was parking." She shuffled out her car keys and eyed Tuckers pocket. "Trade?"
Tucker sighed but smiled anyways – the guilt he felt for lying was slowly fading...
"Yeah, sure."
At least he could keep his encounter with Danny secret for a while longer.
A/N: I'll try to make these chapters longer, but four thousand is the limit. I want to keep them short; it won't be long now, though.
BAD NEWS: I won't be able to update within the next 3 weeks since I will be at Mexico, enjoying the awful smell of the ranch. La di freakin' da.
GOOD NEWS: I WILL complete at least 5 chapters in those 3 weeks! Haha! I love the fact that I will be doing nothing for at least half that time. Whoop de freakin' do.
REVIEW!! It'll make me update quicker.
Adiós, amigos!
Scarlett.