Author's note: Danny's having a hard time but that's fine because we can all enjoy the therapy. :)

Ghost on the Couch

April 24 (part one)

"Danny, can I have your fries?"

Danny rested his head in his hand with his elbow on the cafeteria table. He looked across at Tucker. "Hmm? My what?"

"Your fries," Tucker articulated more clearly, pointing to the pile of fries on Danny's tray. "I might as well take full advantage of your Monday blues and eat whatever you don't want."

Danny pushed the tray over to him. "Fine. Whatever. Eat it all."

"I still can't believe your mom let you skip therapy last week," said Sam.

"Why?" asked Danny, lifting his head. "Because you think she should've made me go?"

"Danny." Sam frowned. "That's not what I meant."

Danny groaned and pressed his palm against the bridge of his nose. "I know. I'm sorry. I was jumping to conclusions. You didn't actually say that. I'm still really bad at that one."

"'That one'? What do you mean?" asked Sam.

Danny shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered.

"It's just your mom is usually so stubborn," said Sam, sounding apologetic. "I'm just amazed you were able to get her to change her mind."

"I didn't change her mind," said Danny. "Paulina did."

Sam scowled. "Of course, it just had to be her."

"Oh, man." Tucker grinned. "I'm not surprised. Paulina could probably convince me to do anything, honestly."

"Think she could get you to jump off a cliff?" asked Sam.

"Okay, maybe nothing like that, but I think I might actually eat your grass garbage if she insisted I should."

"Has anyone ever told you how easy you are, Tucker?"

"Hey, Danny would do anything for Paulina, too. Right, Danny?"

Danny folded his arms and slumped in his chair, shrugging.

"Is everything okay?" asked Sam. "I know it's Monday, but you seem more down than usual."

Danny sighed deeply and stared at the table for a few quiet moments. "It's not about therapy this time," he finally said. "My mom made me take my driving test on Saturday."

"Oh, that's right. How'd it go?" asked Tucker. "Did you get your license?"

Sam elbowed him. "Tucker, really?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "No, I did not get my license."

An awkward silence. Sam and Tucker waited for him to continue, staring at him with sympathy. Or was it pity? Danny had no idea but he knew he couldn't jump to conclusions either way. They were looking at him and waiting; that was all he knew for sure.

"I really didn't want to do it." Danny directed his words to the table. "I knew I wasn't ready. Even before I took the test, I just had a really bad feeling about it, like something bad was going to happen."

"Something bad like what?" asked Sam.

"Like I was going to crash the car or run someone over or bang up another car when parallel parking," said Danny. "I just had all these ideas in my head of what could go wrong."

"Did any of that happen?" asked Tucker.

"Well, no," said Danny. "I mean, apart from the worst parallel park job ever when I hit the curb and majorly scuffed the car's paint job, no. The lady testing me actually just told me to give up and stop trying after it was clear I was never going to get it. I'm surprised she didn't stop the whole test sooner with how much I had been screwing up before that."

"I'm sure you didn't do that bad," said Sam.

"Oh, no, I did," said Danny. "I really did. It was that bad. And I screwed up from the very start. Like literally the first thing I did, I pulled out of the parking spot and started turning too soon and clipped the back corner of the car next to me."

"Ooh," said Sam under her breath.

"I felt so stupid," said Danny with a groan. "The test barely started and I had already completely fucked it up."

"I'm sure they wouldn't have failed you for just that," said Tucker.

"But it wasn't just that," said Danny. "Everything after that—I mean, it just never got better. I kept trying to make up for that shitty start, but I just couldn't. I sped up to get through a yellow light but it turned red right as I got there so I had to run through it. I didn't stop at a crosswalk when there were people wanting to cross. And I didn't stop before the stupid white line when I was making a right turn at a red light."

Danny folded his arms on the table and buried his face in one elbow.

"Everything that I could've possibly done wrong, I did," he grumbled without lifting his head.

"I get it," said Tucker. "My driving test was pretty brutal, too. I kept taking turns too fast, I was so jerky. And I'm pretty sure I forgot to use my turn signal a couple times. I really think I just barely passed."

"Barely passing is still passing," said Danny testily, lifting his head. "I didn't even do that. I failed, Tucker."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way," said Tucker, shrinking back. "I know it's not the same."

"Yeah, Danny. That's really rough," said Sam, her tone kind. "I don't even know what else to say except…that sucks."

Danny sighed, slumping over with his elbows on the table. "I didn't even know how to tell my mom I failed. I just didn't want to see that frustrated look on her face again, like when I failed the written driving test not just once but twice."

"How did she take it?" asked Tucker.

"She wasn't happy," Danny grumbled. "She says she's gonna have to make me practice more often."

"Well, that's okay!" said Sam. "You can practice more and try the test again later."

"Yeah, I think you can take the road test, like, three times at least," said Tucker.

"Why would I take it a second or third time?" asked Danny. "Just so I can fail again and disappoint my mom even more?"

"You're not gonna fail next time." Sam brushed his hand with her fingers. "You'll get it. I've seen you drive; you're a good driver."

"Obviously not." Danny pulled his hand away. "I actually did try my best, you know. It's not like I half-assed it."

"No one's saying you did," said Sam.

"And that's what my best got me," said Danny. "Failure. I honestly don't even see the point in trying again."

"Danny, lots of people fail the road test their first time," said Sam. "But they take it again and pass later. It's common, it's normal."

"But I don't even need to drive," said Danny. "I can fly wherever I want."

Tucker laughed. "You gonna tell your mom that?"

Danny groaned and shielded his eyes with one hand. "I don't know what I'm gonna tell her. I just can't take that test again. I'm so sick of failing everything I try."

"You know, maybe it's a good thing you have therapy today," said Sam.

Danny uncovered his eyes and shot her a warning look.

"Look, I'm sorry," said Sam. "But if Tucker and I can't convince you that failing your driving test isn't the end of the world, then maybe your therapist can."

Danny sighed. "I know, you're right. These are thinking errors. I know they are and yet I can't stop doing them."

"You've mentioned that term a few times, thinking errors," said Tucker. "I'm still not really sure I get it."

"They're just ways of thinking about the world that aren't actually true," said Danny. "But when you convince yourself that they are true, that's when it's a thinking error."

"Like thinking you'll never pass your road test just because you failed once?" asked Sam with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, all right, I get it," said Danny. "I probably will end up talking about that with him today. Especially since he does like to talk about real examples from my life." He rolled his eyes. "And when I refuse to give him a real example from my life, he just tries to talk about an example related to ghosts instead. Or one ghost in particular: me."

"You, as in Danny Phantom?" asked Tucker, raising a brow.

"He doesn't know that's you, does he?" asked Sam, sounding worried.

"Wait, or did you tell him?" asked Tucker.

Danny hesitated before answering, remembering Brandan's very odd compliment to him during their last session.

The things you are willing to do for others are nothing short of extraordinary.

Danny's skin prickled. But Brandan never explained what that meant, and he wasn't supposed to jump to conclusions. There was no evidence that Brandan was referring to his vigilantism.

"I don't think he knows it's me," said Danny. "I think he's just seen that I get annoyed when he brings up ghosts or Phantom, so he does it to try to convince me to cooperate with his mind games." Danny scowled. "And it usually works. God, I can't stand that guy."

"That just makes me want to meet him even more," said Tucker with a wide grin.

"I know, I just have to see this guy that can get such a rise out of Danny for myself," said Sam.

"Okay, sure, you want me to ask him if he's accepting new patients?" asked Danny, narrowing his eyes.

"Aw, dude," said Tucker with a pout.

"And I said I'm willing to get my parents to sign me up for therapy, too," said Sam. "That offer's still on the table. Although I don't think they'd let me see the same therapist as you."

"No, it's fine. You don't have to do that," said Danny. "I don't need my best friends suffering through therapy with me so I can feel better about it." He sat up straighter. "I only have to do this three more times anyway."

"Really? Just three more times?" said Tucker. "That went fast."

"Only because you haven't been the one going," Danny muttered.

"Here's to three more times." Sam raised her glass of plant-based milk. "You've got this, Danny."

"I just wish my mom would let me quit therapy now," said Danny, resting his elbow on the table and pressing his face into his hand. "Because nothing's changing. I'm not getting any better."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Sam.

"Well. Do I seem any different to you two?"

Sam and Tucker exchanged glances, shrugging.

"I'm still having all these thinking errors, these cognitive distortions," said Danny, more to himself as he looked down at the table. "And I just don't see how that could possibly change in just three more sessions." He paused. "Or ever, really. If nothing's changed in over a month, why would it ever change?"

Silence. Danny looked up to find Sam and Tucker frowning at him.

"What?" asked Danny.

"Nothing," said Tucker, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We just…don't know what to say to cheer you up," said Sam.

Guilt stabbed through Danny's chest. He made his friends put up with so much for him. And yet between risking their lives to fight ghosts and listening to him vent his frustrations, they continued to stick right by his side, never even hinting that they wanted to quit or leave him to do it all alone.

"Sorry, guys. I know I haven't been much fun lately, but I'll be better tomorrow. I promise." Danny smiled as genuinely as he could. "Tuesday's definitely my new favorite day of the week."

"Hey, it's all right," said Tucker, picking up one of Danny's fries. "I like getting to eat pretty much all of your lunch every Monday now."

"And things will get better, Danny," said Sam. "You'll see."

Danny nodded but didn't actually believe her.

After the final class of the day, Danny walked to the parent pickup area and sighed when he saw his mom sitting in the passenger seat of her car. She rolled down the window as he approached.

"I have to drive?" asked Danny, his tone sinking with his heart.

"Yes, of course," said Maddie. "You obviously need a lot more practice."

Danny held in a scowl. He obviously needed it—did she really have to say it that way?

"You didn't forget your permit today, right?" asked Maddie.

"I have it," said Danny irritably.

"Then get in, let's get going."

Danny lingered a moment longer before walking around to the other side of the car. Arguing with his mother was always useless, and he really didn't want to give her any more reason to be cross with him.

The drive to the joint pizza restaurant and therapy office building was easy, uneventful. Danny kept his hands in proper position on the steering wheel at all times, drove right at the speed limit, stepped on the pedals evenly and slowly for smooth braking and accelerating, watched for all possible obstacles, made all the right defensive decisions.

And he stayed quiet the whole time. No conversation at all, only focus.

Danny pulled into a parking space in front of the pizza restaurant near the stairs leading up to the second floor where the therapy offices were located. He put the car in park and took his foot off the pedal at last, dropping his hands off the steering wheel, his muscles relaxing. He hadn't even realized how much he had tensed during the drive.

"That was good, Danny. See, you can do it when you really concentrate," said Maddie, smiling at him. "Now why couldn't you drive like that for the test on Saturday?"

Danny looked down at his hands in his lap. "I don't know," he mumbled.

"Well, hopefully with more practice, you'll feel confident enough to drive this well next time you take the test." Maddie held out her hand. "Let me have your phone, please."

Danny pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave it to her without a word. She put it in her purse and zipped it up.

"I have some errands to run," said Maddie, "so you'll need to go up and check yourself in. But I'll be back in an hour to pick you up."

"Okay," said Danny quietly, not looking at her.

"Are you doing okay, Danny?" Maddie reached toward him and stroked the hair behind his ear.

Danny mustered a half smile. "Well. Even if I'm not, at least I'm about to go get some therapy, right?"

Maddie frowned. "Oh, Danny."

"What?" Danny chuckled. "That's why you're having me see someone, isn't it?"

"But you know that you can still talk to me too, right?"

Her thumb brushed his forehead, then she cupped his face with her hand. Danny stayed still a moment before covering her hand with his.

"Of course I know that," he said with his most sincere smile.

Maddie's thumb caressed him a couple more times before she also smiled and pulled her hand back. "Okay. Go on up. I'll be back later."

They both unbuckled their seat belts and got out of the car. Maddie crossed over to the driver's side while Danny headed toward the stairs leading up to the therapy offices.

But he stopped dead when he saw the car parked on the other side of his mother's car. A sleek black Mustang with red tire rims.

Dash's car.

He had seen it in the student parking lot so many times now, had watched Dash sneering at him from behind its wheel as he drove by.

Of course Dash's parents would get him a freaking Mustang.

And it was right here.

Which meant—

Danny ducked and got out of the way of the pizza restaurant's window, not daring to look through it in case Dash was right there. Shit. He had forgotten all about Dash possibly coming to pay him a visit at his "new job" after he successfully convinced his mom to let him skip therapy the previous week.

He needed to text Sam and Tucker, tell them to get over here right now to distract Dash or somehow convince him to leave.

But his mom had his phone. And she was already pulling out of the parking lot.

And even if he were able to ask for his phone back, what would he tell her? That he lied to her when he said Dash had stopped bullying him? That Dash was actually here right now looking to torment him and he needed to ask Sam and Tucker to stop him?

Dash would possibly get kicked off the football team if Maddie reported his bullying to the principal again. And Danny knew Dash would definitely take that out on him.

But even worse than that, he'd never hear the end of it if Dash found out his mom was making him talk to a therapist every week.

Danny stayed still, watching the door to the pizza restaurant. But no one came out.

If Dash was inside, then he must not have seen Danny.

Danny turned and darted up the stairs toward the therapy offices. He could only hope that Dash would give up trying to find him and leave before the hour was over.