"Are you almost ready, Kwan? Breakfast is nearly done now, and we don't want it to get cold!" A woman, his mother, shouted from the floor below. Checking himself again in the standing mirror just beside his bed, he teased his cropped, jet-black locks just once more before giving his outfit a once over, and with a nod of approval, he turned towards his open door, parting his lips to respond.

"Yes! Coming in a sec, Mā!" He called, hoping his voice had traveled far enough for her to hear him, but when she didn't respond back, he assumed she'd heard him just fine; she was never shy about making him repeat himself however many times until she heard what she needed to. Walking across his room, he glanced over his tidy bed and cleaned space, ensuring that it was in tip-top shape before he left for the day, and making it to his desk, he grabbed him cellphone and bookbag, the former lying idly on the surface of the desk, and the second, his bag, hung over the back of the chair.

However, before he left, he slipped quietly into the chair that rested at his desk, and, at his already open computer, he flipped over to the window that was an open chat line. Kwan figured he at least had a minute to talk, spotting a few of the other members of the room already in. Amongst them, he smiled, checking in on his own username to see them talking amongst themselves, and, with a click, he was in, imparting his own greeting once he had.

k-dog: hey guys

Kwan typed, slipping quietly into the conversation, and just like that, they greet him.

BIG D: sup kwan! nice hearing from u again

paula love: omg kwan! we missed u

starXOXO: how are you?! ^^

Smiling, Kwan responded in kind, only then noticing how excited he was at the notion of meeting them again. Sure, he'd managed to keep in contact (minimally at that) through the chat room, but to hear from them after having been gone for the entire summer...it was enough to make him giddy in a way he hadn't been...in a long time.

k-dog: good. about to leave now. wanted to say hi :)

At his response, the others did the same.

paula love: so ready to see you guys! :D

starXOXO: totes! its been way too long

BIG D: u talked to dash? he isn't part of the chat :/

Reading Dale's question, Kwan couldn't really answer him. That was something else, too, knowing that he'd see Dash again. Something that pretty much all of them could agree on was how difficult it was to get in contact with him. It wasn't a secret, even before school let out for the year back in June, that Dash didn't have a phone and, as far as they knew, he didn't have a computer, either, which, honestly, was a little weird to him.

Who didn't have a computer?

Or a phone, for that matter?

Regardless, they'd lost contact...and Kwan was no different. As far as he'd known, none of them had been in contact with Dash for the whole summer, so it was definitely going to be interesting meeting with him again, too, though...Kwan was going to have to remain...discreet about that who thing.

k-dog: no. havent heard from him. u guys havent either?

paula love: nope.

starXOXO: thought you would. we were doing stuff over summer, so we couldnt

BIG D: yeah. just coming back from vacation

k-dog: oh

At their answers, Kwan couldn't say he was surprised. Dash wasn't exactly known for his stellar communication skills, so as far as all of them knew, he just chose not to have a phone or that sort of thing. As annoying as it was, there wasn't much any of them could do about it, so they shifted to another topic.

BIG D: u guys wanna meet on the field? we can walk to homeroom from there

starXOXO: yeah but who do you have for homeroom? i have falluca

paula love: omg so do i!

BIG D: same here :)

Quick to pull out his own schedule, it didn't take long for him to spot the same name on the margins, and he couldn't help the broad smile that parted his lips at the notion.

k-dog: so do i. meet on football field?

BIG D: yeah. leaving in 15. gonna eat breakfast

paula love: yeah. abuela is making menudo and i don't want to miss it ^^

starXOXO: have to pack lunch. forgot to last night, so see u guys at school

Just then, Kwan's own mother called again.

"Kwan! Breakfast is finished; are you coming down?" She shouted up the staircase, and at the sound of her voice, he knew that it was time to go.

"Oh, coming, Mā! Be right down!" The teen answered, turning back to his screen once he had. Coincidentally, the rest seemed to have the same idea as, once he'd gone to respond, the others seemed to be called in the same way.

starXOXO: bye. see u guys later. cant wait so meet up again XD

paula love: we have so much to tell u guys when we get to school. summer was crazy

BIG D: yeah see u guys there :)

Finally, that left only Kwan, and at last, he closed out the chat with his own response.

k-dog: see u soon!

With that, he logged out, and shutting down his computer, he double-checked to make sure everything was tidy, that he'd grabbed everything that he needed for the day, and deciding that he had, he stood from his chair, pushing it back in carefully and making his way towards the door, he'd only just noticed the lovely, wafting scent of food down below.

Stuffing his phone in his pocket, and throwing his bag over his shoulder, he made his way from the room, mindful to shut the door before he departed down the hallway leading to the rest of the house.

Immediately leading from his room, statues of clay and marble, and paintings, too, stood careful guard along each section of the wall, each staring at him as he passed along, though they didn't bother him much; he'd gotten quite used to their many eyes over the course of his childhood. Tokens of their presence, born through certificates, medals, and all manner of award adorned each work, markings of prestige that outlined each room that he passed. Kwan traveled down the hall, giving them little attention, just the same as he hadn't the rest of the sleek, pristine halls, a sight he knew well enough, and as such, wasn't worth much attention in his eyes.

Kwan had always known big things.

Big rooms, big houses, big kitchens; honestly, Kwan couldn't say if he'd ever had a small house in all of the places that he'd lived. He knew the best, and that was likely because his parents believed that he was entitled to it.

Part of him thought he had been, too.

How could he think any differently?

The atrium of their lavish home sprawled before him as he came upon a spiraling staircase leading down onto the main level. Stepping up the balcony, an outcropping of glass and polished wood that allowed him to gaze down below serving as the catwalk above the lower floor, he caught a glimpse of the passing figures of his mother and father, both taking turns setting up the table and assembling the vast dishes of breakfast food that was typical of their routine. Upon noticing him, just as they always did, he was greeted with beaming smiles, each waving to him from below. A woman, long, dark, cascading hair, and a soft, round face, came to greet him, his father remaining in the background as he made the last of the preparations for their breakfast, though he gave his son a knowing nod, a warm expression upon his face.

"Zǎo shàng hǎo! Did you sleep well?" His mother started, meeting him at the bottom of the staircase and pulling him into a gentle hug, sending beads of warmth through him despite him dwarfing her in size. Parting, she led him over to the table, seating him expectantly, as had become the ritual of their family, and as such, he didn't fight her on it, his father taking a seat at the same time as him, right at the head of the table. It would be just a few minutes before his mother would return, no longer donning her gloves and apron that had since been stained with food, recovered in her standard, comfortable clothes. In that time, he and his father sat in a comfortable silence, making occasional conversation in the time that she'd been gone.

Which, admittedly, hadn't been that long.

Upon her return, she sat in her spot, and immediately, they grasped hands, mouthed a small prayer, and soon, they began to eat.

Grabbing a few of steamed buns that had been set just in-front of him, he nodded, smiling as he pulled one to his lips with his chopsticks. Remembering that she'd asked him a question a few minutes ago, and he opened his mouth to answer.

"Ah, yeah. It was fine, but it took a while for me to fall asleep." Kwan started, savoring the delicate flavor of the food, though it wasn't as though he'd missed their off-putting looks, something that he was, regrettably, used to. He probably should have seen it coming, knowing that his parents weren't exactly ecstatic when it came to hearing something was wrong...which it wasn't! Sometimes, Kwan couldn't help but think, they blew things out of proportion sometimes. His father didn't comment at first, though he looked just as interested as his mother did at his words.

"Oh? Why is that? You aren't sick or anything, are you? You drank that tea I gave you? With the lavender?" She asked, setting down her own bowl of congee to give her son her attention. Noting her worry, much of it unwarranted, her felt, he smiled, doing what he could in this little way to try and quell her fears.

"Yes, don't worry. I did, just...been a little nervous. You know, about school..." He started, taking in another spoon of his food, but noticing their silence, he doubled back. It wasn't hard to tell when they were worried, their caring, but nervous, glances amongst themselves all the indication he needed to know of the uncertainty in their running thoughts. Between the two of them, Kwan didn't want to give them any other reason to be more reluctant about this than they probably already were; he'd learned very early on that saying things that made his parents worry more was not in his best interest.

It was hard enough to get them to loosen the leash on a normal day, and as far as any of them were concerned...none of this was really normal.

"...but don't worry! I'm fine, seriously." He assured them, giving his mother a look he intended to calm her, though he couldn't tell if if had worked as shadows of doubt had settled deeply in her amber eyes. His father's own didn't reflect much less than suspicions of his own, and turning back to his meal, the older man sighed, a sound Kwan knew well enough to know that it preceded a rebuttal of some sort.

"You know, your anxiety wouldn't have been an issue if you'd have just gone to Polter Heights." He started, not looking to Kwan, though the teen knew he didn't need to. It was enough knowing that Kwan wasn't the sort to put up much of a fight about these sorts of things, that is, trying to reframe his parents' opinions. It had been surprising enough that they relented when he asked to still attend Casper (much to his own surprise, seeing as they didn't tend to change their minds when they were set on something), but even more that they were willing to pass up Polter Heights of all places, though he couldn't imagine pushing the issue too much was in his best interest. He figured it was best to let them stew in their dissatisfaction, a fate much better than having them double-down and sign him up for the former on the spot, but it was harder when they attributed each and every ailment and thought he had to Casper and...that.

The accident.

Though, in their defense, it had only happened a few months ago; he doubted something like that would have left their minds so easily and so soon.

But that didn't mean that he was made of glass.

He was more than capable of thinking for himself, and that included protecting himself, too.

Sure, he had a lot on his mind, but having them over his shoulder, worrying non-stop...that wasn't much better.

"You're father isn't wrong...they have a wonderful STEM program that I feel you would have benefitted from, hǔ zi. I don't know why you wanted to go back there, to that place..." His mother chimed in, and he had only noticed that she had barely touched her food. Kwan figured she was far too focused on the conversation to give her meal much attention, though he figured it was probably cold by now. Regarding her, it wasn't as if he knew himself.

Sure, he'd wanted to see his friends again, what, after only having gotten back in town himself (which, by all accounts, surprised him even more), but it wasn't as though he couldn't see them outside of school...if his parents were feeling lenient, that is. It was by all accounts that his instincts told him to leave, to never go back to Casper, but...maybe another part of him felt drawn to it, or maybe...he didn't take kindly to the idea of running.

Sure, what happened had been terrible, but...he was safe enough home. He didn't live a risky life.

Maybe this was just his little way, that tiny, imperceivable way...of having just a little bit of control.

He wasn't used to having much of that as far as his parents were concerned.

"I know, but...Casper's got good programs, too. And besides, all of my friends are in Casper; I wouldn't really want to have to start over. And..." Biting his lip, he considered saying what was really on his mind, though he couldn't help the hesitation that gave him pause. The teen was careful with what he said, and even how he said it; he had always been told that being obedient, being a good son, was what he was supposed to do, and that included not questioning them too much, at least not more than he reasonably thought he could get away with. He respected them, yes, but he...still had a will, desires of his own.

Shouldn't he be allowed to act on them?

Taking a breath, he looked to his father, though the grip of his mother's hand still rested firmly in his own, as if she could hear his words coming before he'd said them, the defiance before it was wrought, but he continued anyway.

He'd already started on this path.

"...I know that Dash is going to be there, too. I know you guys don't like him much, but...he's still my friend. Besides, it should be my choice, right? I can choose for myself, you know..." He said, his words coming out quieter than he'd intended for them to, but it was loud enough to earn a collective look of disgust and disdain from the two of them. Ironically enough, his comment at the end, about making his own choices, seemed far less offensive than his initial comment, the one about...Dash. A sore spot for sure, one that, over the summer, he'd refrained from really talking much about, though admittedly, he wasn't exactly occupied much with him given the circumstances and their lack of communication.

Though, he couldn't imagine his parents would have been too pleased hearing that he would have been talking to the very person they didn't approve of.

But that didn't stop the two from regarding the idea with more dissent than the idea of going back to Casper.

"Haven't we told you about associating with him? We've told you; he's no good. He's a terrible influence, and we don't want you around him, is that clear?" His father, his deep, booming voice rising in volume at the mention of him. Kwan wasn't surprised at their reaction, but it still gave rise to a present, if muted, defiance.

"I know, but it's been years since then! You guys haven't even seen him - " His mother cut him off, dismissing his words, pulling her arms away in exasperation at the notion.

"And we should have known better, letting someone like him come in here, spending time with you. We are telling you, he is no good. We will allow you to go back to Casper, but you are not allowed to be around him. You have a future! He...he's..." She began, becoming flustered as she tried to muster the words to say, all of which, he was sure, were all the things that they both didn't like about Dash.

They had plenty to say about him in that regard.

They'd made their distaste for him clear enough with what they thought of him on a regular day.

'Have you seen his clothes?' His mother would say when they would come to pick Kwan up after school and Dash was next to him, looking comparatively less put together than the rest of them.

'He's always getting into trouble.' His father would remark, knowing of Dash's habit of harassing the other students.

'He drinks, doesn't he? Having alcohol around you is a terrible influence.' His mother would speculate. Kwan couldn't exactly argue with this, what, with Dash somehow managing to score booze here and there and out-drinking the rest of them, his tolerance strangely high.

'I bet you he's sexually active. Who knows what he might be up to.' Honestly, Kwan never argued with this one. Dash wasn't called "Banging Baxter" for no reason. He had a knack for...getting around. Almost to an obsessive degree. Kwan couldn't name a single girl in the school that hasn't had a turn with him, whereas he, admittedly...hadn't lost his v-card. Not that he talked about that much.

All manner of things that he was sure his mother had thought up, and were probably thinking of now, which was probably why she was almost shaking at the thought of her perfect little boy being around such an objectively bad youth.

The horror.

But his father, sensing her growing unease, stepped in, placing a large, careful hand over her own with a breath of calm, his tone careful and knowing.

"Be calm, Ai. Kwan, you are not to speak to him. He isn't good for you, or any of you. Not Dale. Not Paulina. Not Star; you all know what you are doing, where you're going. You all have a future. It isn't good to be around someone that doesn't have ambition, that comes from a family like...his..." His father added somewhat bitterly at the end, though this struck Kwan.

What did he mean by 'a family like his'? They never talked about anything relating to him, or his family, he should say, so this was the first time he'd heard it mentioned since the last time Dash had been over their house...and that hadn't been in years.

And just as much, Kwan never had any luck when it came to asking about anything that had to do with the even. Even stranger, his mother seemed to agree, shaking her head with disapproval at the idea of it, lending itself well to his curiosity, but equal parts, confusion. Something about the way that they talked about him, the disgust, their disdain...in didn't rub him the right way.

Just what happened?

But he didn't have the heart to push the issue, knowing that he was already treading on thin ice even bringing him up.

Of course, as much as he wanted to ask, he knew better than to make things harder, at least for the time being. Sighing, he just smiled, nodding quietly to their words, hoping that it was enough to convince him of his docility.

"Okay. I understand..." The teen answered, and at his compliance, they appeared to be more at ease, smiling back at him with approval.

"Good. Now, finish eating. It's almost time to get you to school, so make sure that you have everything so we can leave." His father commanded, and Kwan followed suit, both of his parents looking amongst themselves, then to their food, and the family continued to eat in silence.

- (Same Time, Elsewhere) -

The border of trees had finally split, allowing the furthest outskirts of the city to come into view, though what was first to enter his vision was the television station. It's old, worn lettering on the paneling of the building shuttered slightly overhead with the passing breeze, beaten with drops of rain as the rolling storm above gave way to booming thunder. Dash regarded it slightly, giving the road ahead into town a tired glance as he stepped from the brush and cold woods, sparing a glance back over his shoulder to the rising sun, though its warm rays have been out, blocked by black, twisting clouds.

Guessing the time to be later, but not too much later as he'd made an effort to practically run the rest of the way, or rather, what he assumed was running, whatever his aching body would allow. Rubbing his lower back, he knew that the pain would settle soon enough, that there wasn't much point in complaining about it...though it didn't make it hurt any less.

'A nice, warm shower will definitely help...after a whole summer not having one, I'm totally overdue...' Dash couldn't help but think, relishing the memory of encompassing warmth of gentle water, imagining it washing away the dirt, grime, and...other things that clung to his body in a thick layer, accumulated from months of inactivity. His excitement collected in his chest, almost serving as a distraction from the dull ache of his bones and the frigid hand of rain and wind that beat into his worn body.

Almost.

It was impossible to tell what time it was now, he realized with a start, but he knew he didn't exactly have time to waste trying to figure it out. It was better to do his best to get where he needed to, that is, school, knowing full well that he couldn't afford to spend the rest of the day smelling the way he did, and being soaking wet to boot. It was even more poignant since he needed to make sure he could get to the gym at all, knowing that things were...a little different now, but he wouldn't know until he got there. At the very least, he needed to wash up, even if it wasn't a full shower, anything was better than nothing.

What kind of impression would he make on the first day if he was caught walking around with oily hair and greasy skin?

'A bad one, that's for sure.' He reminded himself.

Dash Baxter couldn't make bad impressions.

He couldn't afford to.

'Look good?'

'Have to look perfect...'

'People will laugh at you if you don't.'

'Laugh at you, LAUGH AT YOU - '

Shaking his head, he didn't respond to their words. Those were already things he knew, and besides, he didn't have time to entertain them. He had to focus, making note of his surroundings.

Getting his bearings, he could see the community college not far from where he was, the cold, bricked building standing out over the heads of other buildings nearby.

"I could probably make the trip if I go down Brenner's St.,...don't have much of a choice, anyway...just need to get there as fast as I can, and going that way would probably work..." He muttered to himself, checking around for anyone else that would be walking by. His eyes didn't catch wind of anyone, the teen thankful that, as far as he could tell, it was still early enough (and the weather surely helped) that there was hardly anyone out. Sure, in the distance he could see the occasional wanderer, even pairs and groups here and there if he searched hard enough. Most of them were older, but he could definitely pick out the odd student here and there, and all that told him was that his time was running low.

'If there are more students out here, that means that things are about to get busier...' He figured he could make an easy job of avoiding them, of staying mostly out of sight; it wasn't something he liked doing, having people see him when he wasn't...put together.

If he'd been faster, if he'd left sooner, he wouldn't have to worry about any of this. Feeling exposed, he felt his nerves grow worse, the teen wringing his hands nervously as his thoughts began to race.

Dash wasn't supposed to look like this.

'Imagine what people will think when they see you like this?' Someone whispered in his ear.

He was...he was a mess right now. They would think he was a joke. What would happen to his reputation?

'If you had left sooner, you wouldn't have to worry...no one would see you looking like this...' Another spat into his ear.

He didn't smell nice.

The voices agreed.

He...didn't look good.

They seconded the notion.

He had to look good.

They thought so too.

That's what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to look perfect, he was -

'Hide...don't let anyone see you...'

'You look disgusting...DISGUSTING - '

'Hurry...need to go...'

'They'll look at you...they can smell you, you know...'

The voices, they chimed, and Dash could have sworn they were right. Maybe...maybe they could see him, no matter how hard he tried to stay out of sight, or could they smell him? Over the rain? Would the smell of the wetness outside to hide his smell.? He knew he smelled bad, he didn't mean to.

It was hard to keep clean when he wasn't allowed to touch the sink unless he really had to...what could he do? He tried to keep clean, he really did, but there was only so much that spraying himself with air freshener would do. That's what Dad said to do for the clients, that what he -

'What? You want them coming in here, smelling you? Spray it! NOW!' The older man screamed at him, throwing a beaten can of air freshener at him.

That was right.

He just needed to smell nice, right?

They wouldn't like it, smelling his stench, the scent of his unwashed body.

So he did what he always did.

Opening his legs, he sprayed himself, ignoring the terrible sting as the particles covered the gashes and tears that covered his nether regions.

Good whores smelled good, didn't they?

That's what he was, right?

Right?

'I know...I need to get to school, I need to - ', In the middle of his thoughts, the sound of a vehicle passing by shook him from his musings, a white, blinding truck, the letters GIW plastered boldly on the side as his wide, unblinking eyes tracked it with a twinge of fear, the teen slinking back out of sight. The teen felt for certain his thoughts, his fears, had been proven true; how could he be seen out and about looking like this? He was certain that the agents inside, despite knowing of their presence around town from what little news he could garner from the television at home, were staring at him, remarking on his appearance, at how ugly he was, how disgusting he was, weren't they?

'They have to be', his mind bit back him.

He could see them, staring at him from the window, even though the windows were pitch black. It didn't matter though, they were staring at him, judging him, laughing at his clothes. He could hear them now -

'Disgusting!' They screamed at him from the windows.

'Why aren't you at school?!'They yelled, faces twisted into smiles.

'Aren't you ashamed of yourself?! Aren't YOU?!' Their eyes were wide, wide with disgust, wide with anger.

anger, Anger, ANGER -

Dash felt his body move, thrown from the shadows of the television station, bathed on the side of the building where he'd begun to kneel down, his body once frozen, not thrown into motion, violent motion, and out into the rain again, ghosts of panic making him tense wildly with strain.

HE HAD TO GET CLEAN.

HE HAD TO GET TO SCHOOL.

HE COULDN'T LOOK LIKE THIS.

PEOPLE WOULD MAKE FUN OF HIM.

THEY WOULD...THEY WOULD -

In his panicked state, he didn't notice the person, the body, that pushed back, the former remaining sturdy and in-place, even as he had been knocked onto his haunches, his lower back whining in protest at the pain that erupted along his spine. Pulling in a quiet breath, a stunned act of self-control, the teen's dull eyes were squeezed shut for a breath, then another, when he opened them again...and immediately, he felt his breath hitch in his throat. The person that greeted him, the one on the other side, met him with ice-blue ones, far clearer than his own, their face touched with an expression he couldn't understand, not through the haze of discomfort that claimed his senses, but he knew that face well enough, he knew who they were.

It was just hard to really come to terms with the fact that he'd come fact-to-face with Daniel Fenton at exactly the same moment.

Sputtering, the teen scrambled clumsily to his feet, ignoring the growing pain that throbbed along his backside at the strain, but he paid it little mind, gathering what little dignity he could in the moment, doing what he could to push the virulent words and screams of the voices to the back of his mind the best that he could. He'd only noticed that Danny was staring at him, giving him a look that, the best that he could describe it, was akin to someone seeing a ghost. In matching Dash's silence, the two stared at each for a long moment before the latter finally managed to gather his thoughts, or, at the very least, tried to.

But it was hard.

Of course it was; he hardly recognized him.

'Fenton? FENTON?!' The teen couldn't help it, tracing the length of the other's body once he'd stood at full height, and for lack of a better word...he was completely thrown for a loop.

Between Danny's towering height, a trait that, if Dash could remember right, was not something he could recall just a few months prior when they had all been released for the summer, was the first thing he noticed. To scale, he was nearly two heads taller than him, with Dash having to look up to meet Danny's eyes, though he'd quickly resorted to averting them, backing away as he'd just realized how close they actually were.

When had he become so...tall?

When had he become so...fit?

Just...what happened? The teen couldn't wrap his head around the utter confusion that filled him.

People don't just...grow a whole foot taller over just one summer...it wasn't that long ago that Dash himself had dwarfed him in height, sporting an advantage in height, but now? He couldn't help it, swallowing thickly, though that didn't do much to clear his throat.

What the hell was happening?

Realizing that he'd been silent for what he felt had been too long, the teen tried to regain his composure, hoping that the other didn't notice just how much he'd been thrown for a loop. He couldn't have him thinking that he'd lost his touch or anything.

"F-Fentoni?! W-watch where you're goin'! I...I was walking there!" He started, though he also just remembered that he was at a loss for what to say, losing his train of thought.

What was he supposed to say? He hadn't exactly had time to really...plan what to do, actually. Dash was never really good with trying to come up with stuff on the fly, and it didn't help that the other was sort of...distracting. Dash couldn't help it, looking his face over again and again as the other's features were cemented in his mind.

And all he could think was that Danny was pretty.

Really, really pretty.

Between wild, dark hair, his clear, perfect skin...his parted lips, pink and perfect...Dash felt himself grow warm in the face, surely becoming red as his thoughts deviated from himself. It wasn't a secret to himself that he'd always felt...something for him, things that he wasn't...proud of.

Things that he was desperate to deny. Sensing it, that familiar sense of longing, of confusion, the teen was sickened by it, the flushing heat that grew in his stomach, in his body, at the sight of him.

He didn't know how to stop it.

He didn't...like feeling like this.

He didn't want to feel like this.

It made him sick, disgusted at himself.

'You should be...' A voice reminded him, only adding to his anger. He didn't need them, reminding him of all of the things that he knew were the worst parts of himself.

Didn't they think that he knew that already?!

Boys...weren't supposed to feel this for other boys. Boys didn't think each other were pretty. Dash could recall it well, those words from his parents, from others on the subject; liking boys was gay.

That was it.

That was all.

No matter the context, the moment, the thought, just the sheer fact that he even considered any of it was enough to raise the red flag in the back of his mind.

And that was not something Dash could tolerate.

No matter how many times he tried to tell himself this, no matter how many times he disregarded the idea, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, it came, again ,and again, and again.

The way his heart raced when he saw boys, the way he grew warm, how he wanted to...do things. Something was wrong with him, this wasn't...normal.

He was sure of it.

His parents were clear on the issue; that only faggots liked other boys, that it was worst thing a "man" could be, his father would say. It didn't stop the old man from calling him just that, all manner of 'gay', a 'fag', a 'bithc'...no matter how many times he tried to prove that he didn't like boys.

That he was "normal" kid who liked girls, only girls.

That's what he told himself.

That's what he wanted to believe.

His mother felt the same way.

'God made women for men', she would say to him, she would scream at him...and he wanted it to be true. He was good, he did what they said, so why? Why did his stomach feel so strange looking at him? Why did he feel...things...when he thought of other boys?

WHY DID HE TOUCH HIMSELF WHEN HE THOUGHT ABOUT HIM?

WHY DID HE WANT DANNY TO TOUCH HIM?

WHY DID HE FINGER HIMSELF, IMAGINING THAT DANNY WAS -

'No! NO!' He screamed in his own mind, shutting the idea down.

Stop thinking about that, stop thinking about that, he repeated in his mind, a common mantra.

He wasn't gay. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't do that. He didn't like boys. He was straight, he was normal, he was -

Danny had moved, something that caught his eye, and Dash had only realized that he hadn't said anything for a long time, or what felt like a long time, he thought. He could recall just standing there, being lost in his thoughts, and he was embarrassed. It was clear to him that he wasn't making a good impression, and recalling himself, he realized that he was still...unclean.

In fact, his disheveled appearance felt even more exposed, a raw feeling of disgust rising in his throat again at himself, at the thought that he'd even presented in-front of someone like this.

How was he supposed to explain why he looked like this? Why he smelled the way he did?!

Dash couldn't even begin to think about what Danny thought of him.

'What else would he think? He thinks you're disgusting...' A voice whispered in his ear, playing on his fears, but didn't contend with it. Of course it was right, he thought. What would he think otherwise, yet in the same breath, he wasn't sure why it mattered so much to him. He didn't care what that loser thought, he was sure he didn't...yet why did he feel compelled to hide himself from his eyes? Why did the urge to leave fill him at the thought of being in Danny's presence like...this?

'Don't you have any shame? Look, he's judging you, he thinks you're filthy. You are, and everyone knows it.' They spat, and he knew it was true. He could see it on his face, the way his eyes scrunched up strangely, staring at him, beating him with his eyes.

Or...did he? Danny was giving him a look, but it didn't look good. But Dash couldn't tell what it meant, not when his mind was already racing, not when he couldn't think straight. Why did he have to run into him right now?

WHY RIGHT NOW OF ALL TIMES?!

"Uh...you okay? You're...sort of just standing here, so..." Danny said at last, giving Dash a start with how...deep his voice was, the sound sending shivers through him.

'His voice, too? God, what the fuck happened to him?' He exclaimed in his own mind, but he ejected the thought. No, that didn't matter right now, the teen tried to remind himself, focusing, instead, on what he had said.

He had just been standing there, making everything worse.

Especially with Danny himself being at a loss for what to say himself. In fact, the teen hadn't changed the way that he was looking at him, and quickly, things were becoming even more awkward than they already probably were.

He needed to say something. Something to get this stuff out of his mind, something to distract himself. It was too much, thinking of all of this right now, today...in general; Dash could feel himself repressing it...the fear, the apprehension. He knew the answer to his own self-loathing lied somewhere else, rising in his chest with a trembling grin as he focused these emotions to the one place he knew he could.

Into anger.

When things became too difficult, when his mind raced and festered, at the very least, he direct it all somewhere, into the one place that he was sure that he could forget everything else in. He couldn't focus on his own insecurities if he was focusing on that...at least.

What else could he do but that?

"Shut-up, Fen-toenail! You should watch where the fuck you're goin'!" He shouted, shoving Danny again, though the other didn't move much, something that wasn't missed by the latter. Danny's lean body felt warm to his hands, a notion he immediately noticed when his hands made contact with the other's shirt, and he could have sworn...that he felt muscles, a sculpted chest that sent shivers of need through him.

He could imagine it, touching him, feeling him.

He felt...strong, solid...wait, what?!

'Stop thinking that! What is wrong with me?!' He reminded himself, stopping himself mid-thought.

He needed to get out of here, get to school where he could clear his head, be without Danny looking at him the way that he was. If he could just get cleaned up, look the way that Dash Baxter ought to look...then he could save face. He wasn't in the right state of mind to even attempt to and without so much as another glance to Danny, he shoved past him, desperate to get to where he needed to be to fix it...fix him.

He could feel Danny's eyes on him as he made his escape, but in the back of his mind, he convinced himself otherwise.

He was letting him off of the hook, yeah, that was right. Dash just needed to get himself together, Danny just caught him off guard.

'Run...run...'

'He's looking at you, judging you...'

'You look stupid.'

'He's laughing at you...he knows what you think of him...'

'Run!'

'That's what you do best, right?'

'He knows, he can hear you...'

'Hear you, HEAR YOU - '

His mind turned over the voices, writhing as he tried to focus on the way ahead.

No one knew, he didn't...no. Dash could keep quiet, no one knew anything, there was nothing to know! Dash was just a regular person, he wasn't...he wasn't like that. He was normal, he was...he was...Dash Baxter. He didn't lose his cool.

He smiled, even as his heart raced in his chest.

He just needed to get himself together.

He didn't look back.

He had a school to get to.

- (Same time) -

Danny watched as the former stomped off further into town, leaving him on his own as his mind reeled from the interaction...to say the least. He'd been lucky enough to have dodged the GIW agents when they went by just a few minutes ago, though admittedly, he'd been so preoccupied with finding a spot to land and shift that he hadn't even heard Dash come up behind him into until the other had been knocked back onto the ground. Of course, he wasn't too effected by the motion, his strong, sturdy frame an abject benefit to be certain, however, as he turned around, and saw him there...

...his stomach turned at the sight of him...and the memory that came forth with it.

He was back there again, to the halls, to the dark...to the blood. His ghost formed flickered and wavered, worn and beaten from strain that he couldn't diffuse, ailed by distant screams. Danny stumbled forward, leaning against the wall for support, yet even so, his legs still trembled, threatening to give out at any moment, though the teen felt himself grow sick at the thought of falling in the mess of sinew and gore beneath his feet.

The stench was enough.

In fact, the hlafa blanched as he raised a bloodied hand to his mouth, cupping it as he dry-heaved into his palm, he could bear to look at it, shutting his eyes against it all...yet they didn't stay that way for long.

Somewhere in-front of him, down a distant hallway, he could hear it.

Shoes, squelching and squishing in time, came towards him with each moment that passed. He didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to see what was on the other side, not when a wisp of cold parted from his lips as it entered the space immediately before him, letting the teen know that they were close...too close.

And he could hear them beathing, too.

Cracking open his eyes, he started at their feet.

A pair of white shoes, or rather, he figured, were once white, but now laid blackened in the dark, painted crimson with each flicker of the broken fluorescent light overhead, snaking their way up exposed ankles to give way to worn, blue, denim jeans. They were laughing, just like the others had been, but it sounded empty, like strained vocal cords that were being used in a way that they weren't supposed to be, he knew. The one in-front of him had long since stopped walking, pausing before him just a few meters away, enough that as his tired, green eyes traveled up their body, noting their black shirt, and red, varsity jacket, he could make them out and the dripping, bloodied smile that graced their lips.

Danny didn't move, finally resting on luminous pools of red that had become their eyes, resting beneath tendrils of drenched, blonde hair, and he opened his lips to speak, his own eyes wide with horror.

Their name felt strange on his tongue, but there was no mistaking it.

No, he was certain of it.

"Dash?"

Danny was snapped from his thoughts with a start, flinching at the chiming tone of his Fenton Phone as he remembered himself, and looking again to where Dash had been walking, his figure was long gone now. Unsure of how long he'd been there, he was sure they wouldn't be pleased, though it took him a bit to collect himself, doing whatever he could to push the thought, the memory, into the recesses of his mind, but it didn't stop the wave of nausea from filling him.

No, he had to get it together.

All of that stuff...it was over now. None of that...mattered now. If anything, the halfa thought, though his mind wouldn't leave it be, wouldn't...forget it. Not when his Dash's face flashed behind his eyes, not when his heart raced at the thought of him, and despite everything he told himself...he still felt afraid, as ashamed as he was to admit it. He was supposed to be Danny Phantom, the Specter that protects this town...how could he call himself any of those things when he still acted like...this?!

No, he wasn't afraid. He should have been over it already...no, he was over it already.

He was fine.

"Oh, hey, guys..." He answered at last, realizing that his Fenton Phone was still ringing. On the other end, Tucker was the one that answered, though he could hear Sam's line open, too. Danny cleared his throat, flashing a grin that, despite it feeling fake, he wore it anyway, hoping that it would show through the phone in his voice.

He didn't need Sam and Tucker becoming worried about him...well, more than they already were.

"Hey, just letting you know that we're at school, now. Well, almost. Comin' up the lot; found a bench and it's still pretty empty. " Tucker said, and at his words, Danny realized that he was cutting it close on time himself. Watching the road that Dash had taken to go where, he assumed, was Casper, too, the halfa took another path, opposite to the former's in a strange sense of avoidance, the teen subconsciously wanting to steer clear of him.

Not that he would admit that.

"Oh, okay. On my way now...just had a bit of a... " He started, though he stopped short.

Did he want to tell them about that? About...Dash? Admittedly, there wasn't much to tell, and looking back, Danny had to admit that the former was looking a little worse for wear. He couldn't explain it; between the disheveled hair, to the darting eyes, Danny wasn't even sure, now that he could feel himself calming down, and looking back, that was Dash, at least not initially.

He couldn't see the harm in having them know that he'd encountered him, and besides, he probably didn't do well to keep stuff from them, not when it was something like this.

That, and if they did find out that he'd met with him after...everything, and didn't tell them...he definitely wouldn't hear the end of it.

"...run-in." Danny started, giving them the space to inquire about it.

"With who?" Sam asked, her voice coming in first this time. The halfa figured that beating around the bush would be a waste of time, and with little pomp and circumstance, he came out with it, sparing little breath in-between.

"You wouldn't believe this, but...Dash?" Came his answer, and immediately, they were electric.

"Wait, are you serious?!" Tucker blanched, panic clear over the phone.

"No way! Are you okay, he didn't do anything right - " Sam asked, panicked, clearly, but Danny tried to calm them down, speaking over the two of them before the question began to flow, knowing that once they did, they wouldn't stop.

"No, I'm okay. He didn't...do anything, really. He was the same as he always was, but..." Well, as much as he could assume. He wouldn't lie; something just felt...off with him. Danny wasn't sure what to say, what, between him being caught in his own thoughts and being taken aback by the presence of the former at all, but he had to admit that Dash also seemed a lot...smaller than he had been last time he'd seen him...over four months ago. Not height-wise, no, but more...in terms of weight? Danny just assumed it was a diet, maybe, but even that felt...wrong. His clothes just didn't seem to fit right, his skin seemed...paler, at least, he thought it did.

Honestly, he hadn't really gotten the chance to get a good look at him, but from what he could tell...something was up.

But he wasn't in the business of making assumptions.

However, his silence must have tipped them off as, just before he'd gotten the chance to speak, Tucker was back again, this time with a question that he wasn't prepared to answer.

"What is it? Did he still look...posse - " Tucker began, but Danny, upon hearing the start of the last word, cut him off faster than he was able to think of a reason why, it was mere instinct that gave rise to the speed in which he cut in.

But it wasn't fast enough.

Not when he could see him smiling again, not when he could smell the stench of blood, clinging to his skin.

Not when Dash look back at him, there, in the dark -

"No! I mean...no...he just looked..." Danny started, panic clear in his voice as, in closing himself off from the thoughts, Tucker seemed to catch onto his mistake, and didn't press the issue, in fact, no one spoke at all, not for a few breaths until Danny continued, making sure to control his voice, if only to not betray the fear that would be clear in it.

After all, Danny wasn't afraid of anything.

"...off. He looked off. I...I don't know, maybe it was just me..." He continued, picking up as if nothing about it had been said at all. Both Sam and Tucker, doing the same, hummed in thought, musing on their own for a moment before Sam picked up the conversation again, doing her best to ignore the awkward air.

Something he appreciated as he wasn't sure he was equipped to handle anything heavy today.

"What do you mean?" She asked, and Danny wasn't sure he knew how to put it into words yet, or whether he wanted to. If anything, he was over talking about Dash; it had been enough that he'd run into him at all, but all this was doing was putting a bad taste in his mouth, so without much explanation, he changed subject, not that he felt as though the two of them would fight him on it.

When he didn't answer the question, just as he suspected, the two didn't push...something that he appreciated.

"Ah, nothing, just...nevermind. It's fine; I'm on my way." He said finally, and without another word, he clicked off of the call, continuing on his way.