Behind Blue Eyes

I don't own Danny Phantom, but man I wish I did.

Welcome back! Thanks for the response on the story, keep it up! I love hearing what you guys think.

Last time we got Star's viewpoint on a rather strange scenario, so now here's Star's viewpoint on what should be a rather mundane scenario. Read on, readers.

English Class

The next time Star thinks about Danny Fenton is immediately after she wakes up the next morning, but she pushed him aside until after she popped some Tylenol pills to deal with her possible concussion and got her morning shower.

Only then while drying off did she notice the bruise on her thigh from where the landed so roughly after the ghost blasted at her. It's big, bigger than both her hands and has already started to turn a sickly purple color rather than a soft blue. She poked it, just to be sure, and winced as expected when it hurt.

She would have to be careful if she didn't want anyone seeing it, which she didn't. Her favorite style of jeans would surely irritate it too much, so she went for a long red skirt today that came all the way down to her knees. She threw together the rest of a makeshift outfit and hoped Paulina wouldn't bring up the mismatched clothes, since the blue t-shirt definitely didn't match to her standards with her red skirt or white shoes.

It's not until she got to school that she remembered what she's been trying not to think about, and there he is standing by his locker with his two geek friends just like any other morning. Just like he hadn't fought a ghost less than twenty-four hours ago and won.

It was when Foley let out a snort and shoved Fenton away for something he said, pushing him square in the chest and sending Fenton leaning backwards, that Star decided something was wrong. Fenton showed no signs of injury or even discomfort with the action, even though he had been visibly worse off than she was last night and she had walked away with more to show for it.

Something was going on, and she would get to the bottom of it.

She was Paulina's satellite for a reason; she was the eyes and ears. There was hardly a face in town she didn't recognize, if not know them by first name and she did actually know everybody in the school. Plus, where Paulina only paid attention to gossip pertaining to certain topics and people or the things she herself started, Star was tuned in to it all. She knew what the student body was buzzing about and which little bees were causing a ruckus.

So, rather than doing anything yet she ignored Fenton and his friends, ignored the talk in the halls and the warning bell as she made her way to Spanish, one of the few classes she didn't share with Fenton. Here, she was going to go over all the rumors and gossip she had heard about the Fenton boy over the last few years, which seemed to be when the changes started, and made a decision to watch Fenton a lot closer from now on.

Paulina sat down besides her, talking about how awesome the football game was last night even with the ghost attack. She was under the impression that Phantom had swooped in and saved the day like everyone else and Star couldn't believe how strong the urge was to correct the darker-skinned girl. Alas, she smiled and nodded as class began, pretending like Paulina hadn't totally ditched her last night.

Casper High seemed to unanimously declare Danny Fenton a very strange ordinary person.

Star tried desperately to organize her thoughts, but writing anything down was too risky; if Paulina caught her writing down stuff about Freaky Fenton, her position on the A-list could be in jeopardy and she wasn't sure she was willing to risk it for the sake of answers yet. So, she had to settle for mentally listing a bunch of second or third-hand gossip she had heard through the years about the odd teenager.

Some people have said that he never makes any noise unless he's talking. No footsteps, no outward breathing, no crack of the ankles as he walked; if you didn't see him walk past you, you never would have known he was there. Even just standing still and talking, there was an air of weightlessness around the boy. For someone so clumsy the school board from handling banned them any fragile equipment until he graduated after breaking literally dozens of bottles and vials in chemistry, he never seemed to miss a step or collide with anything. Chair legs, door corners, computer wires, kids swore up and down that he seemed to just pass right through these minor inconveniences that plagued the rest of the student body. He never seemed to notice they were there, how was it possible for him to continue stepping over them so consistently?

On the other hand, he seemed to be constantly injured. There was hardly ever a time when there wasn't a bruise somewhere, a gash concealed, a favored leg or an excuse about a concussion to a teacher. A lot of people noticed the Band-Aids that almost perfectly blended with his skin, the ripped or punctured clothes or the slight limp he seemed to constantly have.

He missed classes, a lot. But nobody ever really talked about seeing him around the halls very often. There were more kids than Fenton that ditched class, like a lot more, and they actually hung out in the hallways, cafeteria and library while they were skipping and hardly any of them saw Fenton around while classes were being held. In the halls before and after, sure, and during lunch too, but almost never during class. He couldn't really be using the bathroom that much, could he? Especially when a boy with a medical emergency pass for Irritable Bowel Syndrome also frequently spent time in the schools bathrooms and hardly crossed paths with Fenton. Statistically, two kids who went to the bathroom almost five or six times a day in a school with only three working boys bathrooms were bound to cross paths multiple times a week but no, apparently encounters with Fenton in the bathroom happened maybe once every two weeks.

And he was a really smart kid, but seemed to be in trouble in all his classes. It wasn't news when someone was doing poorly, but every kid that's worked on an in-class group project with Fenton (and he stayed through the whole thing) swears he's actually really smart and knows the material. So many kids are surprised when the rumor mill starts going on about how many people have overheard the lectures Fenton gets from every one of his teachers.

Then there was gym class. Fenton was always weak and scrawny before, so he's still weak and scrawny now, right? Nope. He didn't look as buff as Dash or anything, but everyone swears that with his physique, he should be doing a lot better in gym class than he is. He's always in last place when they run the mile, but he never seemed winded or tired. And he never took off his shirt no matter how hot it got or what activity they did; Fenton refused to be seen shirtless or even wear tank-tops. He went to great lengths, too, always the last one out of the locker room and he never went back in until everyone else was gone.

Speaking of clothes, his didn't change at all. Like really, almost never. Most of their class had changed something about the way they dressed; it was only natural, they were still finding their own styles. Star herself found that she didn't always like her hair down like Paulina did and that a ponytail looked great too. Even Manson and Foley had changed their looks somewhat; not drastically or anything, but they looked more comfortable than they used to. But even if he found his style first, Fenton never dressed for the weather or the occasion.

Sports days? T-shirt and jeans. Presentation days? T-shirt and jeans. Sweltering heat? T-shirt and jeans. Freezing cold? T-shirt and jeans.

People thought there could be a hurricane outside and Fenton would come strolling through the doors of Casper High, unaffected by the winds, rain and cold without so much as an umbrella to aid him. How had Fenton made something as ordinary as a t-shirt and jeans something to become suspicious about?

"Star? Star! Come on, class is over." Paulina's voice and nudging broke Star from her deep thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, right, sorry. That class was just so boring, I totally spaced." Star apologized quickly to her friend, shoving some books into her bag and standing to meet Paulina's height.

"I totally get it, Ms. Turner is so out of touch. Come on, let's go." Paulina concluded, turning on her new heels to leave.

Star followed.

The rest of the day Star's thoughts were still consumed by Danny Fenton. She went from reflecting on him to watching him as subtly as she could throughout the rest of the day. Easy enough, they shared most of their classes together.

Fenton showed up late to only the second class of the day, math, and it was well after Mr. Falluca took attendance. He was almost twenty minutes late to the class, so nobody was surprised when Falluca scolded the teen.

"Someone ought to teach you about responsibilities, Mr. Fenton. This behavior will not continue to be excused. Detention, today after school." Falluca reprimanded and the class, minus Star, burst into snickers.

"Yes sir." Fenton mumbled his reply and began to walk to his seat.

Star didn't understand at all. Before, Fenton would argue or attempt to explain himself to the teachers as they began to dole out punishments. She wasn't sure when that bit had stopped, but everyone used to enjoy watching Fenton flounder around trying to squirm out of detentions, parent-teacher meetings or any other punishments he was subjected to. But try as she might, she wasn't sure when the troubled teen had started quietly accepting any punishment placed on his shoulders.

There was a flicker of something in his eyes as he said it, but she wasn't sure what it could be. Anger? Guilt? Acceptance? All three? It was like he had given up trying to explain himself, like he realized it was easier to take the punishments and move on. That was kind of sad, in Star's opinion.

She watched him closely as he moved to his seat.

Fenton moved slowly. Very slowly. His steps were light as always, no audible footsteps were heard, but he seemed to be favoring his right leg; it always traveled almost double the distance of his left and every time his left foot touched the ground he leaned right. His right hand gripped the strip of his backpack, slightly picking up the shirt underneath so it wasn't touching his skin. His fingers clenched every time he stepped forward and scrapped against his chest, like he was in pain. The other hand was concealed in his pocket, but his left thigh looked like he spilled soda on his lap due to the darker colored stain on them the size of his hand. When he passed by her to get to his desk, not looking her in the eye, she noticed that it wrapped around to the back of his leg. His whole thigh seemed to be covered in palm-sized splotches of ink or soda or something.

He made his way to the back of the classroom as he usually did, out of the way and the best spot for classroom naps, a whole three rows behind Star, who sat in the second row. It wasn't until she glanced back at him again while he huffed loudly sitting down that she noticed small punctures on his face. One on his neck, one underneath his cheekbone and another above his temple. He turned his head slightly, as if checking the room and Star saw matching marks on the other side. She nearly gasped, but before she could complete her noise Fenton's head swiveled towards her as if he heard the nearly inaudible sound.

Her turquoise eyes locked with his bright blue ones and just for a second, Star felt like that was the safest place in the world. Then he smiled a crooked smile at her, as if silently thanking her for keeping her mouth shut, and slumping over in his desk. Star turned away immediately after, feeling her cheeks heating up.

For the first time that year, Star was glad none of her friends were in her math class.

Star wondered for the rest of the day about how Fenton could've gotten injured. She saw him in the hall before first period and he looked impossibly fine considering last night's events, but somewhere between first and second period that changed.

But, even stranger still was that the next time Star saw him in fourth period he looked just as he had that morning.

He haphazardly walked into class, on time, and only seconds after most of their class had gotten themselves seated. His backpack was slung lazily over his right shoulder, the same one he winced when his shirt brushed nearly two hours ago, and he was no longer limping but his jeans were still discolored on his left leg.

"Heads up Fentoenail!" Dash announced before blowing a spitball at Fenton's forehead.

The class laughed over the teachers' cry of 'Mr. Baxter!' but Star noticed something even through the wince she tried to fight. Fenton's right hand jolted, as if he was attempting to catch the spitball, but dropped even faster than it rose back to his side. Star was dead sure that with that speed, he could've deflected if not caught the projectile.

So why did he let it hit him in the face instead? How long had things like that been happening while nobody noticed? Star was willing to guess too long.

Fenton didn't pay Dash any mind after that and headed to his seat in the back of the room once again, pointedly shrugging his shoulders at something Manson and Foley were saying to him. It seemed like they either got what they wanted or gave up because as Fenton sat down, both his geek friends simply turned to face forward again, the conversation dropped.

Whatever was going on with Fenton, Manson and Foley were involved somehow too. She was sure of it.

It felt wrong, but Star desperately wished Fenton would rush off somewhere as he usually did.

They were in their last period of the day, English, and she had shared every period with him since fourth. For some reason, Star found herself unable to properly concentrate on her own thoughts regarding the boy, let alone whatever Lancer and their other teachers were droning on about, while she had the chance to observe him directly instead.

It wasn't nearly as mentally stimulating as thinking directly about all the strange things that seemed to float around Danny Fenton, and she certainly felt like thinking would be a more productive use of time that staring. Even so, she could hardly bring herself to stop glancing in his direction almost constantly. There were quite a few times Paulina asked who she was checking out, claiming to have had a 'dreamy look in her eye', and she had to pretend she was daydreaming about Kwan but those moments weren't nearly as heart stopping as the times Fenton almost caught her looking.

She found out he did that a lot, actually. For someone who was so tired all the time (his eyes had enough bags to go to London for a month) that he looked like he could collapse into a deep sleep at a moments notice, Fenton was very on-edge. Like, constantly. His eyes, while they weren't closed trying to nap, did nothing but jolt around the room dozens of times as if honing in on every individual noise. And sudden noises? They had his attention instantly, so thoroughly it seemed like he was ready to spring out of his chair if someone started using the electric pencil sharpener without announcing it first.

But beyond that, he seemed to be aware of every zip of a backpack, click of a pen and bump of a knee that was going on in the room. It was like he was constantly operating on nothing but a cup of coffee and a fight or flight response.

Barely five minutes into English, just as Star was turning her eyes away from Fenton again she heard a soft gasp. She quickly glanced back again, noticing Fenton was sitting straight as a board with his hand raised, a far cry from the seemingly passed out position she saw him last in the split second her eyes were off him.

"Yes, Mr. Fenton?" Lancer asked patiently, even if everyone in the room knew what was about to happen.

"Can I use the bathroom?" Fenton asked, glancing around the room again. She swore he lingered on her, longer but his eyes went back to Lancer too quick to be sure.

"I suppose. Be quick about it this time, would you?" Lancer chided, but Fenton was out of the room before he finished talking.

Star watched him go, the boy almost breaking into a dead sprint out of the room as the door slammed shut behind him. It caused her to blink in shock at the loud noise, but she swore there was a flash of light while her eyes were closed. She looked back at Manson and Foley, who seemed unable to stop making eye contact and glancing out the window like they would miss something.

Apparently, Star couldn't think much while Fenton wasn't in the room either. All she felt like she did while he was gone was go between glancing back at his empty seat, the clock and the door in the same pattern. Like if she followed it, it would make Fenton return sooner.

Why did she even care where he was? She wanted her questions answered, that didn't mean she could afford to suddenly start caring about someone who could get her whole social life uprooted. Besides, it's not like they were ever friends before there was an A-list anyways. Why should she care what freaky Fenton did in his free time?

She knew the answer, of course, was that it was because Fenton had made her start looking at things differently. She wasn't sure she could have done any of what Fenton did to save her best friends, let alone someone who hated her the way she hated him. Well, she didn't hate him. Just judged him.

Her thoughts on her exact feelings for Danny Fenton were interrupted by the boy of the hour coming through the door and leaning backwards on it to fully close it.

"Tell me, Mr. Fenton, is twenty-five minutes quick to you?" Lancer asked, hardly glancing over at the returning student.

Most of the class snickered and nobody seemed to pay any mind to his return. Nobody except Star who could not take her eyes off the condition that Fenton was in.

His shirt had holes in it, literal holes that were the size of her index fingers scattered everywhere. She could see red on some of them better than others, which made her think they were bites of some kind. His pants looked like they had been burned, the bottom right pant leg being charred black along with his normally white and red shoe turning an ash grey and maroon-like color. There looked like two gashes by his hip, just above his pocket, which was limply hanging down at his side rather than being sewn on to his thigh.

His face didn't escape unharmed either. The whole left cheek was covered in a black and blue and two the little puncture marks across his shirt were on his neck. If she didn't know any better, she would say a vampire just bit him.

"Won't happen again, Mr. Lancer." Fenton promised. His voice was a bit strained, like he knew he was lying, and he went to walk to his seat.

The minute he moved, Star noticed his arms that were previously hidden behind his back as he leaned against the door. They were both covered in gashes and scratches and cuts from his hands all the way up to his sleeves. There was dozens of them, going in every direction.

She must have made another noise because his eyes found hers again and she glanced down as quickly as she could, not wanting to be caught staring. She couldn't hold out for long though and glanced up again just in time to see him stuff his hands into his pockets so deep only half of his forearms were visible anymore as he walked back to his seat, noticed by nobody else.

She watched Manson and Foley talk to him again, but she couldn't hear anything over the sound of Lancer's voice and she was awful at lip-reading. They talked longer this time, but the conversation still ended with Fenton slamming his head onto his desk and his friends exchanging a glance.

Star contemplated what could have happened to Fenton for the remaining fifteen minutes of English class but could think of nothing to answer any of her questions with. She contemplated so hard, actually, that she had a repeat of first period and Paulina had to shake her out of her thoughts.

"What's with you today? You're acting like Dash when I wear a bathing suit." Paulina asked, nudging her shoulder.

Star only shrugged, going to stand when she noticed Fenton and his friends leaving in front of them. They were usually the last ones out the door, she must have spaced out really bad.

"Yeah sorry, I've just- been thinking a lot today." Star replied as convincing as she could.

She was avoiding eye contact with Paulina, hoping she didn't ask what, when her eyes ever so slightly were caught by a brilliant shade of blue. As quick as before, Fenton looked away and she found herself staring. It was then that she noticed something really, really odd even for Fenton.

He didn't have any cuts on his arms.

Again, tell me what you thought or want to see more! I'm open to answering any questions too, if they pertain to the story!