Hey-o! Who's got 2 thumbs and is back with a relatively on-time publishing schedule? THIS guy.
That's right. After a purposefully subdued birthday to avoid emotional disaster which I fear even when everything ISN'T shut down for COVID, I've managed to make some progress in drafting a chapter which had no prewritten scenes off of which I could build. I have seventy pages of future plot points written already, but none of them show up until the next chapter and beyond.
But, we're back on track after the delays which put off chapter 6. I can't promise there won't be sporadic delays in the future, but we will see this through to the end.
Now, let's rejoin the action following the Academic Decathlon in Washington, D.C.
Thanks as usual to my friends and beta team. You all are constantly comin' in clutch, and I appreciate each and every one of you. :)
General Notes
"This is dialogue."
"This is alternative dialogue, meaning whispered or spoken from a distance such as on the phone."
'This is thought.'
This and THIS and *this* are emphasis. The *this* emphasis is more along the lines of the snarky or sarcastic.
[This is digital text, such as notifications on a computer or smartphone. It also represents A.I. voices, such as Karen or F.R.I.D.A.Y./"Friday" (because I really don't feel like typing out the full acronym with periods every time she comes up).]
I do not own Danny Phantom nor Spider-Man.
Ch. 07 originally published: Friday, March 5, 2021
FIRE WITH FIRE
07 — Repercuss
Christine Everhart shuffled the papers on her desk before returning her attention to the teleprompter. "And we go live now to the GIW headquarters where the director of operations is about to make a public statement."
The camera feed switched to a podium in front of the Brooklyn Tunnel ventilation building across from Battery Park. A white-suited man in sunglasses approached the podium and squared his shoulders.
"Our nation is under attack," the man began and paused to let his words sink in. "The GIW has received multiple tips over the past weeks regarding increasingly common sightings of unidentified ectoplasmic beings throughout the city. This adds to the numerous sightings across the United States in the past few years. Common Americans are living in fear of an unfamiliar vermin. The supernatural is no longer extraordinary; it is a commonplace threat to the wellbeing of U.S. citizens and the foreign nationals we welcome into our home.
"The GIW is working to determine the catalyst of these recent occurrences, and we will use all of our expertise and resources to eliminate the infestation so we may all sleep well at night once more. We won't stop until our agency is equipped to protect the United States from unseen threats. And soon, we may evolve into a global organization providing protection for the citizens of Earth."
A similarly white-suited aid rapidly walked up to whisper something in the director's ear.
The director cleared his throat before returning his attention to the press for one final message. "The GIW is here to provide security and fight for all people. You may question our relevance now, but rest assured: we are just getting started."
"Get out of there, Danny!"
Emitters sprung to life overhead, dousing Danny with freezing cold liquid. Danny pounded the off button with a vengeance, but the system's automated startup had already initiated. He toppled to the floor and whimpered frantically. Danny thrashed in the growing puddle and wrestled against the cord which had ensnared his ankle and trapped him inside.
"Come on, dude! This is not how you die!"
"No! Stay back!" he shouted, and Tucker stumbled back out of the mouth of the machine. Submerged, Danny returned his focus to the cable keeping him under, even trying to undo his boot, but it was to no avail.
Pmmmmmmmmmmb-
A bass-noted pulse assaulted Danny's gut as it thundered through the water. He stopped struggling, stopped fighting fate. He could only gape. Danny tried one last time to reach for the off button.
His muscles froze. He could do nothing when the pain struck a millisecond later. Millions of volts of foreign energy coursed through the water, targeting him and the cable as a grounding and scorching the panel under his palm. Fluid filled his lungs; Danny could barely scream as an outlet for the pain, building, compounding, intensifying-
His scream echoed through the entire house.
"Danny!" they screamed.
"DANNY!"
Danny bolted upright, gasping laboriously for air. His chest heaved as his body's systems tried to get back under control.
Pmmmmmmmmmmb-
Thunder rumbled loudly overhead amidst the noisy downpour. The rain had completely soaked through his sleeping bag, plastering it to his legs and his apartment block's roof beneath. He fell back onto his sopping-wet pillow and momentarily closed his eyes to focus on slowing his racing heart. Danny futilely wiped the rain from his face before grabbing his phone from the roof beside him and waking it up.
3:31 AM, it read, the digits slightly distorted by raindrops on the screen.
"Right on schedule," Danny mumbled to himself and sighed. He eventually stood and looked out onto Sunnyside. He phased the water off of himself, the sleeping bag, and the pillow before dropping back down into his warm, silent bedroom. He composed a quick text to his group chat with Sam and Tucker.
Danny: [Well I didn't wake up Mom and Dad but I definitely need to bring a tent next time in case it rains lol]
Danny stared at the screen, waiting, but neither of his friends had seen the message. A quick glance at the corner of his phone reminded him of the early hour. Of course neither of them were awake; they finally had a normal sleep schedule, considering ghosts had virtually disappeared from Amity Park.
Danny tried to fall back asleep.
Queens — Thursday, September 15, 07:40
"I can't believe you missed the whole thing!" Danny exclaimed, drawing the attention of a few fellow commuters on the 7 train. "Jazz told me everyone was there. Where were you?"
"I wasn't feeling good," Peter said. "I was stuck back at the hotel for most of the day. I guess I missed all the action. Oh, hey, look: seats!" he diverted and raced to snag the two vacated seats for himself and Danny.
The other teen, however, hadn't been distracted. "She called me right in the middle of it. Man, I was freaked out," Danny admitted. "Jazz drives me crazy, but I can't imagine—if she'd—" He faltered and gulped before anxiously sending Peter a reassuring half-smile and sipping from his coffee.
"Yeah, that would've sucked for a lot of people," Peter agreed.
Danny scoffed lightheartedly. "Thank God for Spider-Man. I owe him my sister's life now."
Peter's chest swelled with suppressed pride.
"It seems like he's becoming a bigger and bigger deal," Danny continued. "I mean, a few months ago he was basically the Jersey-Devil-except-not-evil of Sunnyside. Nowadays he's the hero of Queens with a big enough profile that even my friend Tuck had heard about him back in Amity Park."
"Y-yeah, I guess he's doing his best and people are recognizing that," Peter conceded. "Plus, have you seen his new suit? Talk about upgrades."
"Right?" Danny agreed. "Where'd he get that?"
'The best lies are built around a truth.' "Actually he's also interning for Stark Industries, so Mr. Stark helped him out."
"Wow," Danny said. "Clearly Iron Man sees something in him if he's giving the guy a multimillion-dollar suit."
"As long as he's been using it to actually do something and not just mess around in his free time," Peter grumbled.
Danny smirked. "Mmm, we're not *jealous* of the local super, are we?"
"What?! No, of course not!" Peter denied. "I'm just saying…When you have a gift, you should pay it forward."
Danny stared down at and flexed his free hand for a moment before sighing and looking out the windows opposite them. "So weird that Spider-Man was all the way in D.C. to save the Decathlon team, though," he mused. "Why is no one talking about the fact that a random Queens superhero shows up to save Queens students two hundred and fifty miles away from Queens?"
Peter's stomach dropped. He gulped down his anxiety and replied, "Well, what about a random Amity Park superhero showing up right after some Amity Parkers move five hundred miles away from Amity Park?"
Both boys stared ahead in apprehension for a moment before locking gazes, oblivious to the noisy subway car around them. Each tried to shatter the tension with a nervous chuckle.
Astoria, Queens — 12:35
Danny surveilled the cafeteria before locating a rather preoccupied Ned in the lunch line.
"Hey, Ned, have you seen Peter around?" Danny asked. "I haven't seen him since the subway this morning."
Ned froze for a moment. "I'm sure he's running around doing something important."
"More important than the Spanish quiz later?" Danny was distracted by a buzzing in his pocket. He saw a number he didn't recognize but decided to answer anyway given its Queens-based 917 area code. "Hello?"
"Danny! It's May Parker next door," May replied. "I got your number from your mom."
"Oh, Mrs. Parker!" Danny replied in surprise, noticing Ned's eyes widen. "Can I help you with something?"
"Have you seen Peter today?" May asked.
"Yeah we came to school together like usual," Danny answered. "I guess I haven't really seen him around since then, but we don't have all our classes together."
"He isn't answering his phone, and I found his backpack in his room. And now there's that ferry that almost sank on the news, and I just immediately jump to worse-case scenarios ever since- I'm just a little worried and was hoping you might have some answers."
"Sorry, Mrs. Parker. I'm sure he's okay, though. He doesn't ever get into trouble in class or anything."
"Okay, thanks, Danny. Oh, and if you see Ned, can you tell him to check his phone? I've been going straight to voicemail all morning."
"Ned?" Danny confirmed and glanced over. Ned frantically shook his head and waved his arms around. Danny's eyebrow quirked up, but he said, "If I see him, I'll tell him. Good luck, Mrs. Parker."
"Thanks. Bye, Danny."
"Bye." Danny hung up. "Where the hell is Peter anyway?" he asked Ned.
"He's taking a, uh…mental health day?"
"He seemed fine earlier…"
"Fenton," the teacher called.
Danny shuffled up to the front of the class to retrieve his Spanish quiz. The teacher's voice calling for the next student alphabetically faded into nothing as he read the words every student fears:
See me after class.
The circled 'F' above it didn't bode well. Danny sat slumped at his desk for the remainder of class until the bell rang. The rest of the students filed out of the room in search of their final class of the day.
The teacher plopped down into his desk chair and motioned for Danny to come to the front of the room. "Danny," he said.
Approaching, Danny answered timidly, "Yes, Mr. Rupple?"
"Señor," Sr. Rupple corrected.
"But you're not Spanish?"
"This is a Spanish class. It's immersion."
"Actually I'm pretty sure none of us are Spanish-"
"Danny."
The boy fell silent under the harshness of his teacher's momentary glare.
"You're the only student that failed the quiz today, Danny," Sr. Rupple said. He gestured to the quiz crumpled in Danny's hand.
"I didn't sleep well last night?"
"Not sleeping well doesn't mean you bomb the short quiz I gave at the start of class today."
"Well, to be honest, Mr. R- Señor Rupple," Danny corrected, "I barely passed Spanish 1 last year because I was figh- well, I, uh, had a lot of stuff going on outside of class that was more important."
"What could be more important for a teenager than doing well in school?" Rupple asked.
Danny gulped.
"Were you working? Your family isn't in difficulty, is it? We have some programs to help-" He began reaching for a desk drawer sure to be brimming with pamphlets.
"N-no, not exactly. We're okay, I promise. I just…I just couldn't focus on school very much because of everything going on. So I thought, with the move here, I can pay more attention and do better."
"Well, you're not doing better. If anything, you're doing worse if you can't pass the first quiz of the year. We're two weeks in, Danny," Rupple said, pausing as he stared deep into Danny's eyes. "This quiz was virtually a review of things you should know already. The fact that your old school passed you with this level of knowledge—if you can't even pass this—" he sighed. "It doesn't bode well for your future in this class."
Danny's face fell. He gripped his textbook and quiz a little tighter.
"But I wouldn't be a very good teacher if I only spew doom and gloom without offering a solution," Rupple continued and leaned back in his chair. "You clearly need help, Danny. I can't expect you to improve yourself if you're ill-equipped. So I'm going to organize a tutor for you."
Danny looked up. "A tutor?"
"I'll talk to Principal Morita about setting it up, but I have another student in mind who could also use a little more structure and discipline…who actually…wasn't here today…" the teacher surveyed the room as if the rest of the class were still present. "Anyway, don't panic. You're not going to flunk out of Midtown; but you need to work, hard."
"Yes, Mr. Rupple," Danny mumbled, not meeting his teacher's eyes.
"Señor. Alright, get out of here or you'll be late to your last class."
Hurrying into the hallway, Danny immediately pulled out his phone and dialed Sam. He faltered when the call was declined mid-ring. Danny distractedly bumped into a few other students as he tried composing a text, but a new message arrived before he could send it.
Sam: [Sorry dnn still n class trxt you adftrr]
The boy huffed and locked his phone, balancing it on top of the textbook and failed quiz in his grasp.
Betty stood waiting at Danny's locker when he arrived. "Hey, Danny!" she greeted, visibly brightening as he approached.
"Oh, hey, Betty," Danny greeted, trying to force himself to be cheerful. "What's up?"
"So, uh, you look really tired today."
"I look really tired a lot of days," Danny drawled, swapping out his textbooks for PE clothes.
"Your sister Jazz was in DC, right? In the elevator?"
Danny stopped moving for a moment before continuing to shuffle his books around. "Y-yeah, she—she's okay though."
"Thank goodness! I was so worried."
Danny glanced skeptically at her before grabbing one last notebook and shutting the locker.
"So, um, Danny, I was…wondering…if you were going to Homecoming next week?"
"I hadn't really thought about it."
"Oh…"
"Why? Did—you're going, right?"
"Well I was going to but I don't have a date yet."
"I thought you said you had a date during the announcements last week?"
"Oh, that!" Betty blushed and averted her gaze. "No, I was just saying that so I wouldn't embarrass Jason in front of the whole school."
"Oh. Wait, so—does that mean—what are you asking?"
Betty nodded. "With me? Do you wanna go…with me?" she clarified with a nervous laugh.
A student walking by jostled Danny and caused him to bump the home screen button on his phone. It awoke to display Sam and Tucker's smiling faces filling the lock screen. Danny looked over at a wall blocking his view of the long distance back to Amity Park.
"If you don't, that's totally cool," Betty began rambling. "I just know you're new here and maybe don't have anyone to go with except your sister and that's, like, definitively lame so-"
"Sure." Danny pocketed his phone and returned his attention to Betty. "I mean—that's really kind of you to think of that. Thank you. Yeah, I'd—sure, let's do it."
Betty beamed before schooling her expression. "Sweet," she answered. Betty produced a mechanical pencil from the spine of her own spiral notebook and scrawled some digits in the upper corner of a page. Ripping it out, she said, "Here's my cell number. Text me and I'll send you the details and we can make a plan."
"Great," Danny agreed with a subdued half-smile.
"Great," Betty parroted before rushing off to her final class.
Danny hovered outside the boys' locker room and fiddled with the scrap of paper, hesitantly eyeing the phone number. He woke up his phone once more and stared at Sam's face for a moment. Danny finally brought himself to open the phonebook app and create a new contact for Betty Brant.
"Fenton, quit texting and get dressed," Coach Wilson barked as he passed.
Danny glanced up. "Sorry!" he replied, put the phone away, and went to change his clothes.
The effort of walking to his bedroom was almost too great for Danny, but the beckoning of his bed motivated him to push through. Even a brief run to the grocery store and dinner with his family could not alleviate his mental state. He trudged into his room and planked face-first onto his bed.
Jazz appeared in his doorway. "Hey, you alright? You were kind of out of it at dinner."
" 'm brrrd," Danny grumbled into his comforter.
"Huh?"
Danny arched his back to allow his mouth momentary freedom of movement. "BOOOORRRRRRED-uh," he moaned and face-planted once more. After a moment he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, one arm dangling off the edge of the mattress.
"Are you sure 'bored' is the right word?" Jazz asked.
"Bored, frustrated, pathetic, whatever." Danny sighed. "I failed the Spanish quiz and Mr. Rupple's making me get tutoring."
"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that."
"I don't get it!" he continued, throwing his hands in the air in confusion. "I passed just fine back at Casper. I guess they were just trying to pass a worthless student off onto the next teacher so I'm no longer their problem."
"Danny-"
"Midtown is supposed to be my chance to actually make a life for myself outside of ghost hunting, but fighting all those ghosts back in Amity is still just…*overshadowing* my life." Danny smirked to himself.
Jazz rolled her eyes. "Danny, change doesn't happen overnight-"
"You're right. It happens over an afternoon when you are at the library and Mom and Dad are out shopping."
"Okay, APART FROM freak lab accidents, change doesn't happen overnight," Jazz conceded. "Think of how much time it took for you to adapt to your powers and get into a groove protecting people. It'll be the same thing to refocus on your academics; self-improvement will just take time."
"Well, now I have to figure out what all these wraiths are doing in New York City. So once again, my grades are probably just gonna suffer as the expense of secretly fighting a problem that no one knows about."
"Danny," Jazz said with a sigh, "I've seen you get through so much more than this. You just need a distraction so you're not thinking about it all the time. Start by killing two birds with one stone and do your homework."
"I've done all my homework."
"Hey," Jazz encouraged, "that's great-"
"ALL of it," Danny interrupted. "As in everything, including some stuff that's not due for weeks. Whether it's actually correct or not, who knows at this point. But it's done."
"Okay, well that's a good start. Um...you could exercise?"
"I tried going for a run this afternoon; you know, like a psychopath. Sam and Tucker are back home and now it feels like we're never available for a Doomed session at the same time. I forgot what it was like to have free time to fill. Did I even have any hobbies?"
"Mmm, why not see what's happening in the neighborhood?" Jazz suggested
Danny perked and sat up. "Hey, that's an idea! I could fly around and fight *human* crime! Or see if any wraiths pop up on the Fenton Finder!"
"No, Danny, I meant like activity clubs or something! You can't fight the side effects of superheroing with more superheroing!"
"Too late, I'm already going," Danny said, finishing his transformation into Phantom. "Thanks for the pep talk, Jazz!"
And he was gone.
Jazz rolled her eyes. "Ugh."
Face pressed against the single pane window in his room, Peter's eyes teared as he stared out at the evening sky. He snuggled deeper into his clean sweats and sweater. His mood darkened further as he thought about why he found himself supersuitless and grounded. Every mistake he'd ever made raced through his mind's eye, from nearly drowning a ferry full of people to the night his uncle had—
Peter felt the room compressing around him, so he quickly threw open the window and sucked in the fresh air. He shut his eyes momentarily, allowing the lids to cool in the evening breeze as well.
"…Hey, are you okay?"
Peter yelped and stood from his chair, slamming the back of his skull on the bottom of the window frame. He stared out and noticed a familiar ghost hovering just outside the Fentons' apartment. "Danny Phantom?" Peter croaked.
Phantom glanced down at himself before meeting Peter's gaze once more. "Uh, yeah?" the ghost replied. "Oh God, do you have amnesia from slamming your head on the window just now?! Crap, some hero *I* am, giving people memory loss-"
"What? N-no, I'm okay, I was just…startled," Peter answered. He sniffled and wiped his face with his forearm. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just flying around the neighborhood and heard your window slam open, so… Well, are you okay? You look like you were—like it's been a rough day."
Peter chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, it's not been a great couple of days."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"I—no. I can't really talk about it."
"…Oh."
Peter glanced out past Phantom's hovering form. "I was just— It's been hard since my uncle died, and I thought I could make up for it and take care of everything, but I can't. I—I blew it."
"Why would you need to make up for it?" Phantom asked curiously.
Peter's face fell. He merely shook his head in response.
Phantom backpedaled slightly. "Eh, we don't have to go there." He shifted midair into a lounging position and crossed his arms behind his head. "How about season 6 of Game of Thrones, huh? That Winds of Winter finale episode was killer."
"You watch Game of Thrones?"
"Well, yeah, why not?"
"I mean…you're a ghost, so…"
Phantom's confused expression smoothed into deadpan. "As if ghosts don't get bored," he spat with a huff.
Peter noticed a device shoved into Phantom's belt. "Hey, what's that thing for?"
Phantom contorted to look at his waist. "Oh, this? Ghost tracker. I don't know if you've noticed all the wraiths flying around but it's not normal. They're, like, ghost zone raccoons except extra murdery?"
"Man, those things suck," Peter said then paused, remembering Tony and Happy's previous warnings. "Hey, they're not, like, your *minions* or something, right?"
"My minions?! Those freaky things that give me nightmares every time I get near them?"
"I dunno! You are always there to take them down?"
"What, you think I'm sending them out just so I can fight them and look like the good guy?" Phantom deadpanned. "You're late to the party. The Fentons have been saying that about me for years, that I'm just *pretending* to be a hero so I trick the world into trusting me. The Fentons are really smart, but take everything they say with a grain of salt. Even the official, recognized good guys aren't infallible. Remember how we found out SHIELD was basically Hydra a couple years ago?"
"Alright, alright, sorry for mentioning it," Peter apologized. "It was just a random thought."
"Don't be such a conspiracy theorist," Phantom said with a scoff. "I'll give you a pass, though, because tonight is clearly not your night. Hey, wanna go for a fly? Clear your head a bit?"
Peter winced. "Eh, probably not the best idea to sneak out when I just got grounded. Thanks, though."
"Alright. Rain check," Phantom offered. "Well, I'd better get going to see if I can do something about these wraiths. Or just take out some pent-up frustration on an idiotic mugger or something."
"Heh, I know how that feels," Peter agreed.
"...You do?"
Peter's eyes widened. "I mean, just the—the frustration part."
"Oh." Phantom gave him a disbelieving glance before reorienting midair, his legs melding into a shapeless tail. "Well, catch you on the flipside, Peter."
"See ya."
And with that, the ghost was gone.
"Wait...when did I tell him my name?" Peter thought aloud.
Astoria, Queens — Friday, September 16, 08:45
Peter only registered that Principal Morita had arrived when he realized his slumped posture had his legs extended out to block Morita's path into his office.
"Join me in my office," Morita invited.
Peter struggled to right himself before shouldering his backpack and trudging into the office.
"Shut the door."
Peter did so, just catching Ned's worried eye as his friend took the vacated seat just outside. He sat down across from the principal and waited for the reprimanding to begin.
"Wanna tell me what's going on, Peter?" the principal asked earnestly.
"W-what?"
"Your behavior since the new term started has been erratic and, in the last couple of days, completely unacceptable, but it's out of character for you. You've had great attendance and excellent grades for all of your freshman year. Now, within two weeks of starting as a sophomore, you're dropping out of extracurriculars left and right, running away from your hotel room in the middle of the night, and even resorting to brazen truancy for an entire school day after cutting detention. That doesn't sound like the Peter Parker I know." Morita fell silent, perched his left elbow on the arm of his chair, and rested his chin in his palm.
Peter waited for a specific question but realized none was coming. "Well…a few weeks before summer break, Tony Stark came and offered me an internship at Stark Industries. I did pretty well at the start, but I felt like I was being…undervalued? So I tried working extra hard and tried to prove myself, but—but in the end—I lost it yesterday."
"Peter, I don't care how good an internship will look on your resume. You need a good school record first and foremost, and then an internship adds to that," Principal Morita explained. "And while losing it may be a disappointment, you can't go rogue and ruin the rest of your life too. You need to balance your responsibilities and reconnect with who Peter Parker is, because I don't recognize the boy in front of me right now."
"Does this mean I'm suspended?" Peter asked, dejected.
"Punish missing school with more missed school? That never made sense to me," Morita retorted. "No, you'll have detention for all of next week, and also a sort of…community service." The principal reached for a notepad. "Señor Rupple and I came up with an idea. One of our transfer students is struggling in Spanish and needs some help. Part of your *correction* will be to help him catch up to your class, starting during your lunch break today. Is that understood?"
Peter nodded silently, gaze on the floor.
"Peter, you're a good kid, and you're a smart kid, so just try to keep your head straight, okay?"
"…Okay," Peter agreed.
"Alright. Get outta here."
Peter slowly stood and left the room, meeting Ned as he went.
"Are you expelled?" Ned asked. "Do you have to go to that school on 46th where their principal has a crossbow?"
Peter frowned as he put on his backpack. "Pretty sure that's an urban myth, and, no, I'm not expelled."
Ned shook his head. "You're so lucky."
Peter sighed as he followed Ned to class. "But I do have a week of detention, and I gotta tutor someone in Spanish."
"Still better than going to Cage Match High."
"That's not its name."
Peter couldn't help noticing how light his backpack felt without the tech-laden suit usually stuffed into an inner pocket. He proceeded slowly down the hall, absently counting down the locker numbers as he neared the library. One side of the double doors stood open, and the librarian glanced up as he entered.
"Hey, I'm here to tutor somebody?" Peter mumbled quietly.
The librarian gestured over to a table near the windows overlooking the sports fields. Peter turned and was shocked to find Danny Fenton sitting and staring dejectedly at a piece of paper.
Approaching, Peter asked, "Danny?"
Danny looked up. "Peter? You're my tutor?"
"Yeah, it's part of my punishment for missing school yesterday," Peter explained, sitting across from his new neighbor. "I mean, not that *you* are a punishment, I just mean, like, tutoring in the first place…"
"Where were you yesterday, anyway?" Danny asked, crossing his arms with a curious frown on his face.
"Well I thought I had better things to do, but…guess not. Not anymore."
"What, better than learning a language I never plan on using in the future? I don't buy it."
Peter gave a halfhearted half-smirk in reply.
Danny silently observed Peter for a moment before saying, "You know, if it makes you feel any better…I kinda had a lot of similar stuff to deal with back home."
Peter looked up from searching through his Spanish textbook. "Really?"
Danny faltered. "I mean—I don't know exactly what's up in your life, a-an' I can't really talk about what I was doing in mine back then…but I know how it feels to feel like you have a bigger purpose, like there's something more important than what an average guy normally has to worry about." He glared down at the failed quiz. "And I know how it feels to find out you can't handle it no matter what you do."
The two boys sat in depressed silence, Danny leaned back with his arms crossed and Peter resting his chin on his crossed forearms on the tabletop.
Vacuum.
Danny visibly shivered.
The ambient daylight streaming in darkened as a feeling of dread settled in the pits of the boys' stomachs. Peter glanced around and saw a few scattered students and the librarian soundlessly scurrying for the door. He whipped his head around and saw a wraith phasing in through the window. Its hollow, backward screech compounded in volume until it assaulted Peter's ears as soon as its head had cleared the glass.
"Peter, ru-!" Danny shouted, but he was cut off as the wraith backhanded him into the nearest bookshelf.
The beast of the underworld grabbed Peter by the neck and phased back out through the window, its ghostly energy allowing Peter to pass harmlessly through as well. He suddenly found himself hovering two stories above all the students milling around in front of the school. As the wraith's grip tightened, Peter immediately began appraising the situation to determine just how he might be able to break free of the wraith without outing himself in public, or waiting until he was far enough out of sight to fight it.
Of all the days to no longer have the Stark suit's taser webs.
Out of nowhere, a bolt of plasmic green energy just barely missed Peter's hair and hit the wraith square in the chest. It screeched in protest but didn't loosen its grip on the boy's neck as it turned to face the new threat. A black blur in Peter's periphery materialized, becoming Danny Phantom as he tackled the wraith at full speed. Peter slipped from its grasp and gasped for air as he began to plummet.
Phantom, though, whipped back to Peter while the disoriented wraith righted itself to pursue. "I got you!" the ghost shouted and grabbed Peter's flailing wrist, hurriedly but safely lowering him to the ground. Phantom let go a few feet before Peter had reached the concrete and arced over the gathered crowd to once more face his foe.
The wraith made to go after Peter again, but Phantom's hands charged with ectoplasmic energy, reached under the cloak's hood, and grabbed the wraith's head, searing into its cranium. The beast flailed for a moment before going limp and falling, the vaporized portion of its skull missing from Phantom's grasp. The students below cried out and covered their heads, but all that hit them was a dissipating cloud of black smoke.
Everyone, Peter included, glanced up to look at Danny Phantom floating above them. He panted, wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and then immediately noticed everyone's camera phones out.
"Uuhhh," Phantom said, fidgeting under everyone's scrutiny. "Situation normal? Threat…neutralized? I don't have a catchphrase for when I win; I don't normally have a crowd at this point…. Cow—Cowabunga?"
"Oh my god, are you a Ninja Turtles fan?" one student shouted out.
"What? No!" Phantom protested. "I just—ugh. If anyone has nightmares around 3:30 AM it's a side effect of being near a wraith. Okay? Okay. Bye!" He rocketed away over the school.
Peter mentally fortified himself before re-entering the school and making his way back to the library. Danny stood next to their table guzzling a bottle of water. He swallowed and, upon seeing Peter, said, "Peter! Thank God you're okay!"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Peter replied. "Your old buddy Danny Phantom saved me. How are you, though?"
Danny turned to see the bookshelf which had toppled against the next one just behind it under the brunt of Danny's impact. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. At least it was a flimsy bookcase and not a solid wall. Here, gimme a hand."
The boys each took an end of the bookcase and righted it. The upper shelves on its rear shelves had emptied onto the aisle after it tipped, so they collected the toppled books into some more orderly stacks for the librarian to reorganize later.
Danny took a controlled, deep breath. "Alright, well let's get this over with. Make me intelligente."
This week's references and Easter eggs:
- The Brooklyn Tunnel ventilation building: The Guys in White organization shares its headquarters with eponymous agency in the Men in Black franchise
- Christine Everhart: the Vanity Fair writer from the first 2 Iron Man movies who later became an anchor for the in-universe WHiH news channel
- Cage Match High: subtle nod to Sam Raimi's Spider-Man in which Peter fights in a cage match against Bone Saw McGraw
- Mr./Señor Rupple: I couldn't find the credit for the unseen Spanish teacher, but I looked up the actors that did ADR work for Homecoming and I'm pretty sure John Rupple is the guy.
- Game of Thrones season 6: because, don't forget Homecoming takes place after Civil War in the fall of 2016, which would be a couple months after GoT season 6 aired. I should note, however, that this is from research; I have not watched a single episode of the show.
Feedback/comments/reactions are welcomed as always. Thanks for reading, lovelies, and stay tuned to find out what Danny gets up to on Homecoming night :)