Author's note: So many ups and downs, my heart's a battleground~

Ghost on the Couch

April 10 (part one)

Danny frequently checked the clock throughout the day. Checking the clock seemed to make time go so much slower, and he really hoped that somehow the late afternoon wouldn't come at all.

In the cafeteria, he picked at his taco salad with his fork, stabbing and moving its contents around and around.

"Dude, are you just gonna play with your food all lunch period?" asked Tucker.

Danny looked up. "Hmm?"

"You know, you could try out the vegan option instead," said Sam. "I'd even buy it for you if you want."

"No, this is fine," muttered Danny. "I'm just not feeling that hungry."

"Is something on your mind?" asked Sam.

Danny shrugged.

"Maybe it's something you could talk over with your therapist," offered Tucker amicably. "Aren't you seeing him today?"

Danny flicked a sliced black olive in his direction. Tucker moved to the side as it sailed past his head.

"Oh." Tucker looked back over his shoulder at the olive on the floor. "I'm guessing that's maybe the reason you're not feeling so hot, huh?"

Danny propped an elbow on the table and pressed his fingers against his face. "I've never hated Mondays as much as I do now."

"But it's only five more times, right?" said Sam. "That's just a little over a month left."

"Yeah, but now that Jazz knows too, she won't stop bugging me about it. And I've been grounded all week, so I haven't been able to get away from her." Danny groaned. "She keeps telling me why therapy is actually really great and that I'm actually really lucky to be seeing one. Yeah, I'm so very lucky that Mom and Dad think I'm the broken child in this family who needs it while she's perfect and doesn't need it."

"Danny, I'm sure that's not what Jazz meant," said Sam.

"Yeah, Jazz loves all that psychotherapy stuff," said Tucker. "I could see her thinking you're the lucky one to get to talk to a real therapist, something she wants to be."

"And I really don't think your parents think you're broken while Jazz is perfect," said Sam.

"Well, they sure know how to make me feel that way," Danny muttered. "Always praising her grades right in front of me."

"She gets better grades than all of us," said Tucker. "Like, better grades than anyone at this school. It's not just you she has beat there."

"Yeah, yeah, she's really smart." Danny forced a breath through his closed lips, creating a small raspberry sound. "She keeps trying to tell me all about what exactly cognitive behavioral therapy is, too, like why it's effective, why it works, why I should trust it and give it a try. But I really don't care how it works. So far, I just feel so…frustrated every time I'm there, like there's just no way this is going to help me somehow convince my parents I'm not broken."

"Oh, Danny," sighed Sam.

Danny winced. Great. Now he was disappointing her with his unhealthy, self-destructive thoughts. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

A lie. But she didn't need to know that.

Danny rested his arms on the table and slumped over them. "I just really liked it better when Jazz didn't know I was getting therapy."

"Did you like it better when we didn't know either?" asked Sam, her mouth tugged down in a somber frown.

Danny looked at his two friends, remembering when he had to make up excuses for why he couldn't hang out with them the first couple Mondays.

It was still a little embarrassing that they now knew his mom was forcing him to see a therapist, but it was a relief to not have to lie anymore.

And now he had two people to hear his venting and complaints. Two people who really understood him and what his real problems were, problems he could never actually talk to his therapist about.

"No." Danny smiled. "I like it better that you know now."

Sam and Tucker also smiled.

"We can get some fries after you're done," said Sam.

"And burgers and milkshakes!" said Tucker.

"You guys should really try the vegan alternatives one day," muttered Sam.

"Not a chance," said Tucker.

Danny groaned. "I might still be grounded today, guys. I asked my mom this morning if I was ungrounded yet, and she just said she'd have to think about it."

Sam pouted. "We got lucky last week, but I'm not sure Tucker and I could charm her into letting us hang out with you today."

"Yeah, no birthday this time. Just a regular Monday," said Tucker.

"Regular Monday for you guys, maybe." Danny glanced at his phone. "I just keep hoping to get a text message from my mom saying my therapist had to cancel or something."

"Sorry, Danny," said Sam. "If there was some way we could get you out of it, we would help."

Danny chewed the inside of his cheek. "No. You guys can't get me out of it. But maybe someone else can."

"What, get you out of therapy?" asked Tucker.

Sam eyed him. "What are you plotting?"

Danny shrugged and forked up a bite of his taco salad, suddenly feeling much hungrier. "Oh, you know, same ol', same ol'. Just something I do pretty much every day."

"Why is that not at all comforting?" Sam shook her head.

"It's not something that's gonna ruin your chances of getting ungrounded today, right?" asked Tucker.

"I'd rather be grounded another week than go to therapy today."

"Man, I kind of wanna meet this therapist of yours." Tucker laughed. "I wanna meet the guy that can get under your skin this much."

"He's more annoying than the Box Ghost and Klemper combined."

"Whoa, you serious? Damn, dude. If that's true, I can see why you'd want to get out of it somehow."

"But what are you gonna do?" asked Sam.

"Well, you two know I can count on you for anything, but there's one other person I can always count on, too," said Danny.

"Who?"

"Lancer."

Sam groaned. "Danny, don't do anything stupid, please."

"Nothing more stupid than what I normally do."

Over the next few hours, Danny actually hoped for a ghost to float into the school and terrorize some students or a teacher. For once, he would gladly welcome an actual excuse to be late to class. But when no ghost had shown itself after his second to last class of the day, he knew he'd just have to find his own way to be late for English with Lancer.

Maybe just a quick flight around the town. And if he ran into any ghosts, well, he couldn't just leave them. He'd have to fight them off.

About twenty minutes after the bell for the final class had rung, Danny walked down the empty halls toward the English classroom, carefully watching for any hall monitors because it had to be Lancer who reprimanded him and no one else.

Danny smirked as he stood outside the closed classroom door and listened to the muffled drawl of Lancer's voice. He was a true rebel now. He certainly deserved detention for real this time. Not like those other times when he didn't mean to be late to class.

And he'd definitely take hanging out with Lancer over Brandan any day.

He looked at his phone. He was now twenty-two minutes late for class. Perfect.

All eyes turned to him when he opened the classroom door. Danny normally hated this part when all of the students stared at him and he would give them a sheepish smile, but he merely shrugged and waited patiently for Lancer to address him.

Lancer stood at the front of the class with an open textbook in his hand. "Mr. Fenton. I was starting to think you were going to skip out on my class entirely."

"Oh, I'd never do that, Mr. Lancer," said Danny.

"Mind telling me your excuse for being so late this time?"

"Just had some other things to do and lost track of time, sir."

"Is that so?" Lancer shook his head. "See me after class and we'll talk about it in detention."

The students jeered and gasped and giggled while Lancer gestured for Danny to take his seat. Danny kept a straight face until he reached his desk, returning the smirk from Tucker and shrugging off the disapproval from Sam.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and held it discreetly under his desk to text a short message to Maddie: Got detention with Lancer after school. Can't do therapy today. Sorry.

He dropped the phone into his lap, his muscles relaxing. He wouldn't have to see Brandan's dumb face or stupid fluffy hair after all, not until next week. And maybe he could just get detention again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his phone screen light up with a new message. He slipped the phone into his pocket and ignored it.

After the final bell, Danny was actually excited to go to detention. Each step felt so much lighter as he walked down the hall toward his locker with Sam and Tucker.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd actually try to get detention from Lancer," said Tucker.

"Detention beats therapy, trust me," said Danny.

"Does it really?" asked Sam. "I mean, wouldn't you rather just talk about stuff for an hour than study or do homework or whatever else Lancer makes you do in detention?"

"I have to study and do homework anyway," said Danny. "Might as well be forced to do it in detention."

"But weren't you telling us last week how maybe you could get something out of therapy?" asked Sam. "You only have to go five more times, right?"

"Sam, come on, don't ruin this for me." Danny phased his arm through his locker and pulled out his backpack. "If you met my therapist, you'd understand why I don't want to see him today. After three weeks in a row, I just need a break."

"All right, all right," sighed Sam. "But I still think you should give it a chance."

"I am giving it a chance." Danny stuffed everything he needed into his backpack and zipped it up. "Just not today." He slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I better get going to Lancer's. I'll just end up getting detention tomorrow too if I'm late."

"Have fun in detention, I guess," said Tucker, smiling and shaking his head.

"I'm sure your mom isn't going to unground you now." Sam rolled her eyes. "So see you tomorrow, Danny."

Danny gave a small wave and headed back down the hall to Lancer's classroom. He still couldn't get over how easy this was. Why hadn't he thought of this before? He could probably get Lancer to give him detention every Monday.

When Danny reached the classroom, he frowned at the closed door. Lancer usually kept his door open when he was expecting someone for detention. At least, that had always been Danny's experience. Surely Lancer hadn't already forgotten he had given Danny detention?

On the other side of the door, Danny could hear Lancer speaking. He turned his ear to the door and tried to make out any words, but Lancer's voice was unintelligible and muffled.

After waiting another minute, Danny knocked on the door. He could hear Lancer say something else, then the scraping of his chair on the floor, then footsteps. Danny straightened up as the door handle clicked and the door swung open.

"Mr. Fenton, sorry to keep you waiting," said Lancer, his expression appearing much kinder than Danny would've expected.

"That's okay." Danny peered inside the room. "Is someone else here? I thought I heard you talking."

"Yes, on the phone." Lancer held the door open and gestured for him to step inside. "Let's chat for a moment."

Danny entered the room. "Just a moment? You want me to do independent study the whole hour?"

"No. Just take a seat."

Danny dropped his bag beside the front center desk and sat down. Lancer stood before him and leaned back against his own desk.

"Mr. Fenton." Lancer paused. "Danny."

Danny winced. He hated when Lancer used his first name because it meant he was going to say something serious.

"I want you to go to therapy today."

Danny stared at Lancer. "What?" He shook his head. "How do you…?"

Lancer gestured to his desk phone. "That was your mother on the phone."

Danny's facial muscles twitched. "She told you?"

"She sent me an email during class and asked me to call her." Lancer smiled. "I guess you were pretty quick to text her you received detention, weren't you?"

Danny thinned his lips.

"She asked me to rescind your detention so you can attend therapy instead," said Lancer. "And after telling her the details of why you received detention, it became apparent to both of us that you may have purposely been late to my class just so you could get detention and skip therapy today."

"What—no—I mean—I wouldn't do that," sputtered Danny.

"So you weren't late to my class on purpose?" Lancer raised a brow. "Does this mean you do want to go to therapy today?"

Danny hunched his shoulders and stared down at his desk. No point in lying now. "No. I don't. I… I really hate it, Mr. Lancer. And I don't feel like it's helping me." He exhaled deeply. "I just hate being in that guy's office so much."

"I understand," said Lancer. "Therapy is often not very fun. Perhaps especially for someone your age."

Danny tentatively raised his eyes. Lancer continued to lean against his desk but bent his upper body forward.

"But your mother—and I—feel that therapy is too important for you to miss," said Lancer. "So I am letting you out of detention so you can go."

Danny blinked a couple times. "You really think therapy is important for me? That I…need it?"

Lancer thought he was broken, Lancer thought he needed fixing, Lancer would rather get rid of him and hand him over to a professional who might be able to actually do something about him instead of wasting time in detention never getting better never improving going nowhere—

He was doing it again, jumping to conclusions. Brandan wasn't kidding when he said that was Danny's most common thinking error.

What was the first step again? Examine the evidence. What did Lancer actually say? Therapy was too important for him to miss. Right, yes. He didn't actually say Danny needed it.

"I'm not saying you need therapy," said Lancer. "But therapy can help anyone. Everyone."

Danny propped his elbow on his desk and pressed his face into his palm.

"You're a good kid, Danny," said Lancer. "I know I get stern with you sometimes, but you have a lot of potential. When you really do try, you do well. You ask very interesting questions that make me think, questions no one has ever asked me before. And I appreciate that about you."

Danny uncovered his face and looked at Lancer warily.

"But I can see you're struggling," said Lancer gently. "You come to class late, you don't turn in assignments, you don't study for tests. You keep getting low grades not because you're unintelligent but because you just don't seem to want to try."

There it was. Danny knew Lancer was going to throw a wrench in this somehow.

"I get it," grumbled Danny. "I'm a bad student. I know. You've been telling me that forever. My parents and Jazz have been telling me that, too."

"No, Danny, I didn't say that," said Lancer, his voice getting a little harsher. He softened again. "And if I've ever made you feel that way, I'm sorry. Admittedly, I thought maybe you were just lazy at first, but the more I've gotten to know you, it seems more like lack of self-esteem."

Danny crossed his arms and slumped in his seat.

"And I would love to see if therapy can help you feel more confident in yourself," said Lancer.

Danny groaned and rubbed his knuckles against his forehead.

"Your mother said she'll be waiting out at parent pickup like usual," said Lancer, walking around his desk to sit in his chair. "You should probably get going."

Danny did not move. He stared at his desk's surface, at the barely legible curse word someone had etched in the corner and someone else tried to scratch out.

"But I don't want to go," he said quietly. "I'd really rather just stay here in detention."

"Well, if you're so intent on it, you could do detention with me tomorrow instead."

Danny glared at him. Lancer smiled back with that same infuriating pleasantness Brandan so often displayed.

Fine. Once again, just another person not on his side. Just another person who wanted therapy to fix him already.

Jumping to—

YES he knew, okay, he knew he did that one a lot.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and stormed out of the classroom.

Maddie's car was waiting for him at the curb. Danny could see her staring at him as he approached.

Guilt hit him hard. He had already betrayed her trust the week before by breaking curfew. Now what would she say about him getting detention and almost missing therapy because of it?

He opened the passenger door. Maddie did not smile at him as he lowered into the seat.

Great. Now he was never going to be ungrounded.

Maddie put the car in drive. "You really thought you could get out of therapy that easily, huh?"

Danny wrung his hands.

"I was half surprised you actually did get detention." Maddie chuckled. "I thought maybe you were lying and just said you did."

Danny looked at her face. She was smiling now. "Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"No," said Maddie. "A little disappointed, especially since you actually were late to class. But I'm not mad. At least you came to the car without me having to go find you."

This didn't make sense. She wasn't going to yell at him? But he felt so guilty, so bad. Shouldn't she be upset with him for trying to break their deal?

"I know you don't like going to therapy," said Maddie. "I don't blame you for trying to get out of it. But please don't do anything like that again, okay?" She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. "I definitely don't want you doing anything on purpose to get in trouble at school."

Danny stared ahead at the traffic in front of them. His teeth rubbed against his inner bottom lip.

"What is it?" asked Maddie, glancing at him.

Danny shook his head. "Nothing."

"No. You seem confused about something. I can tell."

Danny shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought you'd be mad, I guess."

Maddie didn't speak for a moment. "I was frustrated when you texted me," she said. "But when I spoke to Mr. Lancer, it made sense why you did it." She sighed. "I really wish you didn't see therapy as a punishment, Danny."

Danny folded his arms and held them close to his body. "You're probably not going to be ungrounding me anytime soon, huh?"

"You did get detention for a legitimate reason, so I probably shouldn't."

Danny sank in his seat.

"But as I said, I know why you did it. And I know you've been going through a hard time with this therapy, and I don't want to keep contributing to any depression when I'm hoping that therapy will help you feel better." Maddie paused. "Seems counterproductive to keep you grounded if it's just making you more miserable."

Danny studied Maddie's face but could not discern her expression in profile.

"I'll tell you what," said Maddie. "If you have a good attitude with the therapist today and actually listen to what he has to say, I'll unground you. You can hang out with Sam and Tucker after you're done. I'll even drive you to the Nasty Burger or wherever you three want to meet up."

Danny straightened. "Really?"

"Yes," said Maddie. "But you have to promise to be good for Brandan, okay?"

Danny stopped himself from making a face. "Yeah, okay, fine."

"I'm serious. I'm going to ask him how you were, and if he tells me you weren't cooperative, then you're still going to be grounded."

"All right, yes." Danny took out his phone and started typing a group text to Sam and Tucker.

Maddie parked the car near the familiar pizza restaurant and held out her hand to him. "Phone, please."

Danny groaned. "Mom, come on, can't I just keep it?"

"What did I just get finished saying? About how you need to have a good attitude if you want me to unground you?"

Danny winced and looked down at his lap. "Sorry," he muttered.

He handed her the phone. Maddie placed it in her purse before opening her car door. Danny followed after her toward the pizza restaurant and then up the stairs to the therapy offices. Maddie checked him in at the front desk and took a seat in one of the waiting room chairs. Danny stood nearby, leaning against a wall.

"You can sit with me while we wait, Danny," said Maddie, patting the armrest of the chair next to her.

Danny glanced at the beginning of the hallway leading to the offices.

"We're a few minutes early," said Maddie. "Come sit with me."

Danny stood a moment longer before taking a seat next to her, hunching over. Maddie squeezed his shoulder.

"Thanks for doing this, sweetie," she said quietly.

Danny gave her a small smile.

Brandan entered the waiting room a few minutes later. "Danny! You ready?"

Maddie rubbed Danny's back. "He's ready."

Danny stood and walked toward Brandan.

"I didn't hear it from you," said Brandan. "Are you ready?"

Danny hesitated. His mom was still right behind him in earshot.

He put on his most practiced smile. "Ready."

Brandan studied him for a moment before also smiling and gesturing for Danny to lead the way. Danny did not look back once at Maddie as he headed down the hall to Brandan's office.