Another week passed in the blink of an eye. Training had continued, school had resumed, and ghost attacks went as normal. And somehow, after everything, Wes was still barred from participating in said attacks. It was unfair, if you asked him.

But, he supposed it was an arrangement that worked for now. Danny had his superhero thing. Wes had basketball, and practices he needed to attend.

He made his way to his locker after one such practice session, paradoxically both exhausted and wound-up. He took out his backpack in preparation to head out, internally debating on whether he should burn his excess energy on the way home or before bed, when his ghost sense prickled on the back of his neck. Something was close.

Wes turned around, hand still resting on the locker door, and stared down the empty hallway. If he strained to listen, he could hear the beginnings of a commotion he couldn't see. That soon changed, as Danny stumbled back-first out of a classroom and into a row of lockers, Dash stomping out a moment later. Wes couldn't quite make out what was being said, but it definitely wasn't friendly. He held his breath and kept perfectly still, effectively silencing himself, and that was just enough for him to catch snatches of the conversation.

"I was supposed to have football practice!" Dash was saying, approaching until he was looming over his victim. "I wasn't supposed to get stuck in detention with you!"

Danny, to his credit, was unperturbed. "Hey, how is it my fault if you got caught shoving me into a locker by a teacher that wasn't Lancer?"

"I'm the star quarterback!" Dash shouted, grabbing Danny by the collar and shoving him against the lockers behind him. Wes's breath hitched, but he didn't move. Danny could handle himself. "This is gonna have an impact on my chance to get into a good team in college! If I can't manage a sports scholarship, then what else do I have to look forward to?!"

"Huh. You're actually considering your options now? Last year you acted like there was no hope for you at all after high school."

"Shut it, Fentwerp!" Dash gave Danny a brutal uppercut to the stomach, forcing him to double over. Anger curled in Wes's gut, and he tightened his grip on the locker door, which quietly creaked in protest. Why wasn't Danny defending himself? He was definitely stronger than Dash. Faster, too. He could end a fight in half a second, or slip away and escape. Dash would never be able to lay a finger on him. Not if Danny didn't allow it. So why didn't he fight back?

"I'm probably gonna get grounded now because of you!" Dash continued, giving Danny another harsh shove. "I was already on thin ice because of the C I got on the algebra test last week! Which reminds me, that was your fault too!"

"Oh come on, you already beat me up for that!" Danny protested.

"I wasn't finished!" Dash swung, and this time his fist connected with Danny's nose, landing with a sickening crack. His head snapped to the side, a fine bloody mist spraying from his nose and onto the locker next to him.

SLAM!

Danny's breath escaped as a fog that Dash didn't notice, and the air grew heavy around them. Though the hallway was well-lit, everything seemed muted, as if all the light had been sucked out of their surroundings. Danny could feel the hairs on his arms raising. Whatever was happening, Dash could feel it, too. The two of them looked over in unison.

Wes still had his hand pressed against his closed locker. His shoulders were hunched almost to his ears, his free hand balled in a fist at his side. Even from a distance his scowl was as clear as day, the corner of his mouth curling just enough to show his teeth. "...Let him go."

Danny sighed. "Oh, boy..."

Dash barked a high-pitched laugh, shaking himself from the unease that lay thick over the hall like a blanket. "Like I would listen to you, Weston. I need to teach this punk a lesson. What are you gonna do, stop me?"

That was clearly the wrong answer. Wes's hand slid down from the locker, and he stalked forwards, that suffocating presence seeming to follow him. The air practically hummed with it. "I said let him go," he growled.

Struck once again by the mysterious pressure, Dash "eeped," relinquishing his hold on Danny. But Wes was already upon him, grabbing him by the front of his letterman jacket with both hands and forcing him against the lockers. His eyes promised pain. "I bet you think you're tough, don't you. Does picking on people smaller than you make you feel strong? Does it?"

"Wes-" Danny tried to get a word in, hand clasped over his nose.

"What makes you think you get to wail on him whenever you want, huh?!" Wes snarled, fingers tightening around red fabric. "What gives you the right?!"

Dash whimpered, afraid for reasons he didn't quite understand. Wes was not an intimidating figure. He was round-faced and gangly, and several inches shorter than Dash. But in that moment, the jock found himself looking up at that seething glare, shrinking against the lockers like he was. Wes's face was largely cast in shadow, and his eyes reflected the faulty light above him, giving the appearance that they were glimmering a dour red, like a bad photograph. "Wh-What do you want from me?" Dash squeaked.

Wes leaned in close, close enough that their noses were almost touching. Dash whined and tried to lean away, but he had no room to move. Even if he did, he wasn't sure he would be able to do more than wiggle his fingers. Wes's jaw was clenched when he spoke, his teeth only barely parting. "Don't. Touch. Him. You're not allowed to touch him. If I ever find out you hurt him like this again, if you ever even look at him funny-"

"That's enough, Wes," Danny cut him off.

Wes stopped, watching his friend out of the corner of his eye. Dash didn't dare to make a sound. Several tense seconds passed before anyone moved. With a huff, Wes released Dash, that strange pressure evaporating like it was never there. Dash fell on his rear with a gasp, staggering sideways before stumbling to his feet. He looked between the pair, and when neither made a motion to stop him, he booked it down the hallway.

Wes watched Dash as he fled, and then his gaze was back on Danny, anger spent and instead replaced with frantic worry. "Danny, are you okay? That looks really painful." His hand reached forwards, and then withdrew, unsure of how to help.

"Ugh, yep, I'm fine," Danny replied, dabbing at his nostrils. "...You know, you really shouldn't do that."

Wes reared back, indignant. "What, I shouldn't help you when you get beat up, since you obviously weren't gonna help yourself?"

"I can handle myself just fine," Danny grunted. He pinched his nose, then readjusted it in one quick motion, not making a sound as the blood that had been trapped inside spilled out and onto the floor. "You shouldn't have done... you know. The other thing."

Wes quirked a brow, trying and failing not to think about how often Danny must have reset a broken nose before to not even react to the realignment. "What other thing?"

"...You really didn't know what you were doing, did you." Wes shook his head, brows furrowed. Danny sighed, cocking his head and heading towards the exit. "Come on, looks like you need another lesson."

"Lesson?" Wes parroted, trailing after him. "...I wasn't doing a ghost thing, was I? God, Dash was right there. How much trouble am I gonna be in?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing that would be too obvious after one slip-up," Danny told him without breaking stride. "But if it keeps happening, it won't be long before someone figures out something's up. I'll explain later, we shouldn't talk about this at school." Wes gulped, then kept his lips pursed shut.

Soon, the pair found themselves once again in the woods. It was late enough in the year that the trees shielded them from the little lingering sunlight that remained, leaving them almost completely in the dark. Despite that, Wes could easily make out the blue in Danny's eyes, unnaturally vivid in the darkness. Idly, he wondered if his own were the same.

"Okay, so this is gonna be a hard one to explain," said Danny, "because it's kind of a ghost thing, not really a power. Uh, pretty much every ghost has like... I guess it's an aura? Or a pressure? Every ghost is a little different, but it sorta makes everyone around you know what you're feeling. Sort of a projection of your emotions."

"...Empath power. Great." Wes snorted. "So, what, Dash knew I was mad at him? That would have been obvious anyway, right?"

"It's kinda different from that," Danny replied. "I mean, yes. But it's more like... you would have given him a sense of what you wanted to do to him. And then made it feel about ten times worse. There's a reason guys like the Box Ghost are still somehow considered scary. Even though he really, really isn't."

Wes opened his mouth, then closed it. It made a weird sort of sense. The Box Ghost wasn't even remotely scary, in appearance or in presentation. And yet somehow, whenever he showed up, the air around him just felt wrong. Really, every ghost that Wes could recall coming face to face with had the same effect. They made their threats and promises, and every single time, without fail, Wes believed them.

"...So it's like, the ghost version of trying to look big and scary?"

Danny shrugged. "That's how most ghosts use it. And the stronger the ghost, the stronger the effect they have, so it's pretty effective that way. But not every ghost does it to seem scary. It can be used to calm someone down, too. But it isn't as obvious that way."

"I'm guessing that's how you use it?" Wes asked.

"It keeps people from panicking as much when I'm trying to rescue them," Danny replied with another shrug. "And if I'm lucky, it makes the ghost hunters stop long enough for me to get away without getting shot at."

Wes hummed. "That sounds pretty handy. Are you gonna teach me how to do it now?"

Danny nodded. "Yep. It's kind of like intangibility, in a way. Once you can do it on purpose, it's easier not to do it on accident. Once in a while is fine, but it's a really bad idea to let it happen too often. And I'm gonna show you why, before we get into any actual practice."

That was all the warning Wes got before the atmosphere changed. The temperature dropped by several degrees, his breath escaping in small puffs of fog. A pit of dread that didn't belong pooled in his stomach, and he tried to move, to move away from a source he logically knew but couldn't connect the foreign feeling to. But he found that he couldn't, his limbs completely frozen in fear. He stared at Danny with wide, unblinking eyes, unable to look away. Danny's were loaded with an intensity Wes didn't think he'd ever seen in them before, icy blue replaced with ghastly, sickly green. Wes sensed, in that moment, that Danny could strike him down right then and there, and he would be powerless to stop it.

And then the feeling lifted, the air immediately warming as Danny broke eye contact. Wes's legs gave out, and he released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, breaking out in shivers. "...W-Woah..."

Danny frowned, clasping one of his arms. He'd enjoyed that about as much as Wes had. "See what I mean? Setting off someone's fight or flight instinct isn't much of a giveaway on its own. But I'm willing to bet I was doing the Scary Eyes."

"...The green glowy thing? Yeah," Wes squeaked, finally mustering the presence of mind to get back to his feet. The residual fear was quickly fading; whether it was a natural calm, or an effect of Danny's influence, he couldn't say. "...I didn't do that to Dash, did I?"

"The eyes? Sort of. With you it's more like the pupils change color at certain angles. It's a little more subtle," Danny assured him. "Your presence isn't nearly as strong as mine is, though. Definitely a lot of raw emotion there, but not really enough power to back it up."

"And knowing how to do this intentionally is gonna help me?" asked Wes.

Danny nodded. "It's really easy to get caught up in the moment and do it without thinking about it. But once you can do it on command, it gets a bit easier to feel it coming. Luckily, it's not too hard to figure out."

"...Okay. So how do I do this?"

"Alright, so the most important thing to keep in mind is what you want the people around you to feel," Danny began. "The tricky part is that if you wanna convince them, you gotta be able to convince yourself, too. It helps me if I think about something that makes me feel a certain way. If I want to keep someone calm, I picture myself making sure they stay safe. If I want someone to leave me alone, I think about punching that dumb Fruitloop in the face when he hits on my mom."

"...Fruitloop?"

Danny waved a hand, shaking his head. "Not important right now. To start out, I want you to make yourself as scary as possible. Ghost form helps, but whichever way you wanna do it doesn't matter."

After some deliberation, Wes opted to stay in human form. If it was a matter of making sure his secret stayed safe, then it only made sense to practice in the form that would be most vulnerable to being exposed. And if getting angry was what made him slip up before, then he supposed that getting angry again would help him here.

Though it pained him to do so, he brought forth the memory from a scant half hour before. Danny being forced against the row of lockers, the handles certainly leaving bruises along his spine. A punch to the stomach from someone who weighed at least 200 pounds, and could probably bench twice that. A hook to the face that Danny didn't even try to block. Blood on the lockers, on his chin, on his teeth. Nose purple and swollen, and just a tad crooked. No way he could have breathed through it. And Wes knew that, had he not been there, Danny would have likely received much worse.

Just like before, the air around him changed. The atmosphere grew thick and tense, and even the trees seemed to still, as if they were holding their breath in anticipation. The backs of Wes's eyes glinted in the darkness.

Danny let the stifling air linger a moment longer, then clapped once. "Alright, great, super scary."

It took Wes a moment to reel it back in, but once he had, life and sound gradually returned to the woods surrounding them. "You didn't seem all that scared," he said.

"I already knew what you were doing, which pretty much ruins the effect," Danny replied. "Besides, it doesn't work as well on ghosts, anyway. But for the sake of training let's say I'm terrified. So now, I want you to try to make me feel calm instead. Whatever you did before worked, so this time, basically do the exact opposite of that."

This came to Wes just as easily as the anger. Thoughts surfaced in his mind of warm meals at home, his dad feasting with him. The squeak of tennis shoes on the court. His trip to the carnival when he was nine. Danny, standing across from him now, safe from any bullies who would wish him harm.

That same stillness settled over the woods once again. But this time, it wasn't the tense silence that comes with the threat of something about to give. Instead, it was relaxed. Calm. A quiet that was easy and gentle, rather than loaded and taut.

Danny smiled. "Awesome, I think you've got it."

Wes relinquished his concentration, but the calm still lingered. He smiled back.

"So you remember how that felt, right? If you ever feel like you're getting too emotional or something, try to remember not to make everyone else emotional, too. I haven't been able to break that habit yet, but maybe you can curb it before it actually becomes one."

Wes nodded. "Alright, I'll try to be careful from now on. And thanks for telling me about it. I don't think I ever would have noticed if you hadn't pointed it out."

Danny grinned. "Yeah, any time. Now go home, I've got homework that I should at least pretend to try to work on."

Wes snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Can't believe you live with a tutor and you're still failing most of your classes."

"Pfft, ask my sister to loom over me when I'm trying to fill out a worksheet she explained in way too much detail to make any sense out of? Thanks, I'll pass."

Wes rolled his eyes. "You and your excuses... Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Danny waved. "Yep, see you." The two transformed, briefly illuminating the woods as they took off towards home.

({O})

The bell rung, signalling the end of the last class the following day. Students filtered out of the classrooms, the halls filling and emptying at a dizzying pace. Danny was one of the last ones out, shouldering his backpack and scanning the nearly empty school for his two best friends.

And then an arm stretched out in front of him, blocking his exit. He looked up, and found Dash, predictably, leering over him. "I wasn't finished with you, Fenturf Grass."

Danny frowned. "Ugh, great. Can't you leave me alone today? I'm pretty sure you already hit your 'bully Danny' quota for the week."

"Well, the quota's gone up," Dash sneered, free hand smashing his victim's face against the wall. "So what's it gonna be this time, dweeb? Shove you in a locker? Give you a wedgie-swirlie combo? Or finish what I started yesterday? Or maybe I'll indulge a little and do all three."

"Aww, all that just for me?" Danny gushed, hand coming to rest on his chest.

"Shut up!" Dash grabbed Danny by the shirt and spun him so that his back was to the wall. "I think I'll start with the 'beating up' part, and see if you're still making wisecracks then!"

Danny's breath fogged. The lights overhead flickered, casting the hall in all sorts of strange colors. The air hummed with tension, thick enough that breathing was almost a conscious effort. It didn't take a genius to know that this was a ghost's doing. Dash seemed aware of it too, having toughed out far more ghost attacks than anyone could be bothered to count. Deciding that his hide wasn't worth picking on someone over, the jock released Danny, looking both ways before picking a random direction and taking off in search of a hiding place.

The moment he was gone, the oppressive air dissipated. Danny glanced side to side, and then sighed. "You can come out now. There's nobody here."

The wall next to him rippled, and then a head of red hair appeared, the rest of the body hidden behind the distortion. He looked rather smug. "He can't be clued in if he can't see me, right?"

"A fair point," Danny admitted, an amused smirk creeping onto his face. "Probably still a bad idea, but at least now it's an informed bad idea."

Wes grinned. "Well, somebody has to watch your back, right? If you're not gonna defend yourself, then the least I can do is pick up the slack."

Danny rolled his eyes, not nearly as annoyed as he tried to look. "So, what, you're gonna be my new bodyguard now?"

Wes shrugged, his shoulders briefly appearing before they slumped behind the wall once more. "I don't mind if you don't."

"...Nah, I actually don't think I mind it too much," said Danny, his smirk melting into something softer. "Just don't get yourself into trouble for me, alright?"

"Don't worry, I'll be careful," Wes promised, fully emerging from the wall. "But you gotta promise to try to stay out of trouble, too."

Danny shook his head, the gesture more fond than anything. "You know I can't promise that. But, sure. I'll try to avoid getting cornered by weirdly clingy bullies in the future."

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Wes nodded, readjusting his backpack and heading towards the exit. But before he disappeared from view completely, he tossed a look over his shoulder with one last message. "Oh, Sam and Tucker are waiting in the art room. Tucker had a sewing project he had to finish."

Danny huffed a laugh, turning and walking towards the classroom in question. Despite Wes's apparent... protectiveness? ...he was pleased to see the more inexperienced Halfa growing more comfortable with his powers. After barely a month of developing them, he had no doubt that there would still be some hiccups here and there. But to see him using them so casually already, and in such creative fashion— Danny couldn't deny that Wes imposing his presence where he couldn't be seen in order to avoid suspicion was pretty clever— put Danny at ease, perhaps for the first time since he had inflicted those powers on him.

Everything was going to be okay.

I always thought it was pretty neat how lighting and background colors change in the show whenever a ghost shows up, but I noticed it doesn't happen every time. It almost never happens when a ghost is hiding its presence, and Danny himself very rarely causes a color shift. It seems to only really happen when a ghost is being outright hostile. I thought it would be interesting to come up with an in-universe explanation for that.

I've got a pretty good idea for what the next chapter is gonna be about, so I should see you guys soon!