Danny tossed a low-powered ecto-ball between his hands, letting it trail across his flowing aura before pushing it back the way it came. Back and forth, over and over again.
It was exactly the sort of monotonous task he needed while he thought.
The primary issue Danny had with his new partnership with Drew was that he, admittedly, was broke.
Very broke.
He'd spent the last of his measly savings account on Christmas gifts for his family. And even if he asked his parents to reinstitute a chore chart that he could feasibly do now, even then, his $20-per-week allowance wouldn't come close to what buying opioids from Drew was going to cost.
Which, as it turned out, was a lot. Danny had no idea how expensive oxycodone was, but as he found out, it was way more than he thought it would be.
Thankfully, Drew seemed to be at least a halfway decent guy and informed Danny that hydrocodone or Percocet might be a little more in his budget. And sure, they weren't as good as oxy, but right now, Danny would take anything.
But considering his current savings of zero dollars and zero cents, even a single hydrocodone pill was too costly.
It would have been so much easier if he could publicly be Phantom. Because then, he could just do what other celebrities did and host an occasional livestream on social media, giving bashful shoutouts when people donated money. With as huge of a celebrity as Phantom was, it wouldn't take long for him to get a month's supply of medication.
But no, Phantom was still a secret, and Fenton was pretty unemployable right now too. And that was a problem. A huge problem. It meant that neither Phantom nor Fenton could get money for drugs.
Which Danny needed. Badly.
He hadn't slept last night. It was his first night without in weeks, and he couldn't sleep.
Drew had texted him that morning that he could come by anytime today and pick up as much as he wanted. The issue was, all Danny had to pay with was a blossoming headache and the whining of his increasingly angry nerves.
He couldn't just rob a bank. They all had so much anti-ghost security; they probably had ecto-signature readers and shields. Not to mention, if he got caught, he could kiss his freedom goodbye.
He didn't sleep last night. He needed those damn pills. At this rate, his heart was going to beat out of his damn chest.
Tomorrow was his IEP meeting where they planned to talk about switching him to a full school day with regular classes. He was going to be a normal student again, or at least partially.
There was no fucking way he'd be able to get through that meeting without support.
But what could he do? He had no money.
Then, a snake-like voice wormed into the darkest shadow of his mind and hissed, But your parents have money. They're famous now too.
His breathing stopped.
He stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, the ecto-ball fizzling out in midair.
No. There was no way he'd just thought that.
There was no way he'd even consider it. His parents worked hard for their money, and stealing from them would be a new low Danny didn't think he'd ever be able to come back from.
But why? the voice asked. It sounded innocent in the most insincere way.
It disgusted him.
They were his parents. They were the ones that got him home! They cared about him!
All their money they have now? That's because of you, Danny. That's because you're their son. Why should they get all of it when you were the one who sacrificed his body, his health, everything to the Guys in White? Why do they get to profit off your fame while you get nothing?
No, people were buying their designs. He'd helped them become a recognizable brand, sure, but at the end of the day, people bought their tech because it worked.
And it works because of you. Phantom was their muse. Phantom was the reason they designed half the pieces they did. You deserve compensation for your work.
No.
No.
No.
But I'm right, Danny. You know I'm right.
The voice was right, but that didn't mean that he needed to stoop to that depravity and steal from his fucking parents.
He was a good person. He wouldn't do something like that.
But did he really have a choice?
They owe you. You wouldn't need to do this if they'd let you be Phantom.
That was true…but still…
Why fight me? You've already made up your mind.
No, he hadn't. The voice was right, he needed to do this, but…but…
What if they caught him?
They won't notice. You know how they get when they're all wrapped up in a new project.
That was true.
Just this once. Just until you can figure some other way out.
Okay. Just this once.
Danny released a shuddering breath.
Just this once.
He transformed and grabbed hold of his intangibility and invisibility, slinking through the floor into the kitchen. Hovering near the ceiling, he looked down, the knot in his chest only releasing once he saw the coast was clear.
Of course it was clear. His parents were glued to their work.
If they saw him, they'd hate him. They'd send him back to the hospital, or ground him, or do a mix of both. They'd install the new chip in him and never take it out.
He needed to be quick.
He darted to the living room where, on a side table against the wall, there was a fruit bowl containing a few key rings, a mini ecto-gun, and a wallet.
His dad's wallet, to be specific. Jack Fenton had a habit of misplacing his wallet and wasting precious time tearing the house apart to find it just when the family was in a hurry to leave, so this fruit bowl was installed. Now, upon entering the home, Jack always dropped his keys and wallet in the bowl.
It was just sitting there. Waiting for Danny to open it up and glimpse the goodies that lay inside.
He wrapped delicate fingers around the worn leather wallet, unfurled the sides, and almost cried with happiness.
A hundred and fifty dollars now rested in the palm of his hand. It wouldn't buy him much, but it would buy him time. And if he was smart and rationed appropriately, it might buy him enough time to figure out what to do about Phantom.
He was going to be okay.
Breathe.
It was going to be okay.
Rain pattered on the roof above him. Around him, voices hushed to a lull.
Danny relaxed into his chair. His head felt light and clear, and his previous nerves had been swept away by the passing breeze of two little white pills on his palm.
Glancing around the conference room, he recognized some faces in the dim light. Mr. Lancer and Ms. Perez settled into their chairs, exchanging pleasantries with his parents and a woman Danny didn't know.
Or maybe, he had met her. He wasn't sure. There was a lot from last fall he didn't remember.
Fatigue edged his vision, and he fought the yawn, losing briefly. He couldn't help it. It was rare that his body was just so relaxed.
He hoped he wasn't being suspicious. He just needed to be convincing enough for these perceptive adults to place him in a normal classroom again. That meant no nerves, no shaky voice, nothing that could make them doubt for a second that he didn't belong with his peers.
The voices settled in the room, and a few people muted their phones and slipped them into their pockets. The woman Danny didn't recognize with frizzy brown hair and glasses nodded to the group and said, "Thank you."
The last of the wandering attention had snapped onto her now, and she began. "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for being here for Danny's IEP meeting. Today, our goal is to review the current plan and Danny's progress in the learning center, and update his IEP for his transition into the inclusion setting."
Danny glanced around the table, and everyone else seemed to be nodding to her words like this were rehearsed.
"Why don't we start with introductions?" the woman said. "I'm Lina Fayed, the special education coordinator."
"I'm Sam Morin, the school psychologist."
"I'm William Lancer, Mr. Fenton's homeroom and English teacher."
"I'm Jocelyn Hill, the speech-language pathologist," said a woman Danny had unfortunately become familiar with.
Although, he'd never known her name.
…and just like that, it was gone from his brain.
"I'm Yasmin Perez, Danny's special education teacher."
"I'm Maddie Fenton, Danny's mother."
"I'm Jack Fenton, Danny's father."
It was Danny's turn, but fatigue was pushing at his eyelids, and he didn't feel like speaking. He supposed he should have been embarrassed, but he was too busy enjoying the feeling of his muscles melting into the cushioned seat under him to feel much of anything at all.
"I'm Danny Fenton," he said with a buttery tongue.
If only it could always be this easy to speak.
"Alright! Thank you, everyone, for the introductions, and thank you, Danny, for being here with us. We always encourage students to attend their IEP meetings when they enter high school. To begin, the purpose of today's meeting is a reassessment of Danny's IEP to determine his placements for the next semester. We will review Danny's current levels of performance, which will also include his evaluation results, strengths, weaknesses, concerns from team members, progress toward goals, proposed goals, placement options, and services for access in the general education classroom. Before we start, are there any time limitations today?"
"None for us," Maddie said. "And again, thank you all for meeting with us."
"Of course. As I said, we all want the reintegration process to go as smoothly as possible for Danny. Just a reminder, if the IEP reconvene cannot conclude today, we will schedule another meeting as soon as possible. But with that out of the way, let's continue the meeting!"
They didn't have to worry about that because they wouldn't need a second meeting. Everyone was going to see how well he'd progressed, how calm and confident he now was, and they would release him into the normal, general ed classroom.
The coordinator was now discussing legal rights and handing some pieces of paper to Danny's parents. It was probably a load of word salad, likely said to cover the school's ass. Maddie had warned Danny that these meetings could get a bit official, and a bit boring.
But again, they didn't need to stress about any of that. They could just shove him in a classroom, and he was sure he would adapt without any complications.
"…are there any discussion areas you would like to add to the agenda?" the coordinator asked, though more to Danny's parents than to him.
"None that we can think of." Maddie shot a questioning look at Jack, then to Danny himself.
It took Danny a second to realize they were looking at him expectantly. He shrugged.
"Alright, continuing, decisions about Danny's placement and supports are made through a consensus. Although team members may have varying opinions on certain decisions, consensus is built when all team members come together for the final decision. Does everyone agree and support this?"
All heads around the table nodded.
The coordinator gave what Danny assumed was supposed to be a warm nod, though she looked slightly stiff doing it. Perhaps, she was nervous because of what he was. Which, if that was the case, she shouldn't have been.
Phantom was the town's protector. He was the good guy.
See? It was okay.
His core twinged in dissent, and it took him a moment to remember that he hadn't actually done any protecting lately. But just when his brain began to spiral, the medication took charge, shushing him and lulling his fears back to sleep.
There was no reason to be stressing about that right now.
So, he tuned back into the conversation where the coordinator was now addressing Danny's parents directly.
"Here is a copy of your Parent's Rights and Procedural Safeguards. Please remember that it is very important that you are actively involved in the educational planning for your child and that the IEP team will make no changes in your child's program or services without your input, knowledge, and consent. Do you understand your Parents' Rights? Would you like to review or discuss any part of them?"
She handed some papers to them across the table and said a few more legal buzzwords. Danny's parents responded, though Danny couldn't really hear them. Not because they were being quiet, but just because his brain had decided to take a small break.
They tossed words back and forth, at one point looking at him like they wanted something, though Danny couldn't understand what or why. So he simply said, "Yeah."
There was a pause, and then Maddie supplied, "Danny, you understand that you can provide input too? That since you're in high school, everyone at this table will consider your opinions about your education seriously?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course." He yawned.
He hoped he was conveying exactly how calm he felt about this meeting. He was all better now, he was all healed, he was truly a normal student and could be in a normal classroom.
See? Look at him, all confident and mature. If he were truly drowning in PTSD, could he be sitting here so nonchalantly with all these adults discussing his problems?
"Alright, so now diving into the drafted IEP, I'd like to begin by going over the current Transition Plan and update it with more of Danny's input. The point of the transition plan is to look at the next one to five years and develop a vision for what Danny would like his life to look like after high school. Danny has begun working on his vision statement in learning center with Ms. Perez. Danny, would you like to share your current vision statement?"
Danny could only vaguely remember working on a vision statement in learning center, and he was pretty sure he hadn't finished it.
Still, he looked down at one of the sheets of paper placed before him, searching until he saw his chicken-scratch handwriting. Although he hadn't noticed it before, his handwriting had definitely improved since last fall. Where before it was barely legible, now at least he could read it without too much squinting.
"Um..." Danny's tongue felt heavy, but his head was light. "I'd like to get better at math. I missed a lot of math this year and I don't want to have to repeat algebra two next year. I'd like to earn my high school diploma and attend either a community college or a regular college after high school. I want to work in a field with space or engineering, but I'm worried that my—my current issues might prevent that from happening." He glanced at his parents, who at least appeared to be listening to him. "I'd like to be in all general education classes by the end of the year."
To his delayed surprise, his mother smoothed his shirt sleeve as she praised him. "Good job, honey."
Something stirred in his stomach, but he was drifting too far from his body to decipher what kind of emotion it was.
It likely wasn't important anyway.
"Thank you for sharing." The coordinator beamed at him. "It's really important for the team to remember, as we continue through this meeting, that ultimately, our decisions regarding Danny's placement next semester and accommodations should all be in service of helping Danny work toward his goals both in and after high school. Danny, we understand your situation and history, and we understand that this has made the transition back to an academic environment tremendously difficult for you. Our goal in both this meeting and through this contract is to help provide the tools necessary to ease some of that stress.
"So, now for the present levels of performance. With Danny's injuries still healing, as well as the benefit to the healing process that his, uh, ghost half gives him"—Danny was impressed that she was able to say it so casually—"much of our assessment data from the fall may now be out of date. Typically, we retest every other year, but because of the nature of Danny's injuries, we will be conducting a full re-eval next fall at the beginning of the school year. So this IEP meeting will be using the evaluations from last fall. However, we do have observational data from the BCBA that she's kindly summarized for us, as well as samples and reports from Mr. Lancer and Ms. Perez."
Danny didn't remember ever being observed. He wasn't even sure what a BCBA was or what she looked like.
That meant that people were watching him while he didn't know. Hopefully, she had only seen the good things, the times when he'd been doing his work and paying attention and sitting still with a relaxed and calm face, just like he was doing now.
Hopefully, she hadn't seen those other times, like the other day when he took a nap in the middle of the learning center instead of doing his math work. Or that time when one of the footballers had asked him a question about Phantom and he'd been so thrown for a loop that he stuttered nonsense instead of responding like he normally would.
Well, if she had seen those things, then everyone was probably really confused because his data may have painted him as emotionally unstable, but here he was, the perfect picture of mental health.
At this rate, his parents would have to give him the okay to have full access to his Phantom form.
"Presently," the coordinator continued, eyes glued to the sheets of paper in front of her, "Danny is a very bright young man receiving supports for health, academic, and social-emotional needs. Danny's able to come to school for half of the day to complete his schoolwork in the learning center with Ms. Perez. He's able to access the eleventh-grade core curriculum with significant modifications to his schoolwork, including a reduced workload, modified curriculum, and aide support for executive functioning. He is able to take his tests and quizzes in the learning center with an aide or Ms. Perez proctoring and assisting and redirecting as needed."
Ms. Perez took over, giving him a gentle grin as she did. "Yup, Danny's been working with me in the learning center for most of his current school day, and has been working both on his own, with a para, and with myself and various teachers who have prep and availability to visit our room during those hours. He's been making steady progress catching up with the curriculum, but since he's only in school for half the day, he is behind on most subjects. Though, we have made some steady progress these last few weeks with the hopes that he will be able to finish out the year in the classroom."
"Yup! We're hoping Danno will be able to finish this year strong too! Right?" Jack turned to Danny, who had to remind himself that he was supposed to be making eye contact with the adults rather than studying how the scratches on the table were disrupting the reflections from the lights above.
"Huh? Yeah."
Jack beamed. "Atta boy!"
"That's great!" the coordinator said. "And today, we're going to discuss classroom placements for next semester, so I think a good segue into that would be to go over the current performance data we have on Danny. I'm going to go over both the evaluation scores and the recent data collected from Ms. Perez and the BCBA.
"In the psychoeducational eval, we assessed cognitive, academic, social-emotional, and behavioral functioning. Both Danny's parents and Danny's teachers reported global challenges across all areas of academic, internalization, externalization, and behavioral symptoms. According to the Weschler score summary, Danny's results indicate that verbal comprehension, processing speed, and working memory are all significant areas of weakness, although visual-spatial and fluid reasoning scored below average too. The academic achievement testing results showed that Danny could benefit from direct and explicit instruction across all subject areas, with areas of focus being reading and math..."
The coordinator's voice drifted off, becoming noise with the air vents and the puttering of raindrops against the roof. Danny could see her lips moving, he could see the other adults around nodding at what she was saying, but at this moment, he just couldn't find it in himself to care.
So what if some test results said something about how emotionally unavailable to math he was? Why should it matter?
Life was short. There was no reason to waste it thinking about what a silly little test said.
And besides, he was Danny Phantom, wasn't he? Getting a job after high school would be a cinch.
He leaned back in his chair and let his head loll. It would have been such a nice day if not for the rain washing away the light dusting of snow they'd gotten the night before.
It hadn't been a snowy winter. Maybe that would have been odd, but then again, it had been an odd year all around.
The woman was still talking.
Wow.
It was kind of incredible how long people could talk for.
He wondered if he was supposed to be saying anything. But then, maybe it was better to remain silent because then maybe everyone would forget about those assessment results and his brain injury that was affecting his speech and making him sound more disabled than he was.
So he sat there. The adults talked. At one point, his parents had looked at him in confirmation, and he'd nodded. They seemed pleased at that, which was great because pleasing his parents meant he was following their instructions, and following their instructions meant that maybe they'd realize he was mentally sound enough to handle having his ghost half back.
"...I've noticed that Danny tends to shut down when he encounters a difficult problem, or when he gets stuck on an assignment and gets frustrated. He does respond relatively well to redirection, although some days are tougher than others," Lancer was saying.
"I can get better at that," Danny interjected.
He must have been sitting in silence for a while because a few of the adults seemed surprised that he spoke. The speech counselor, however, gave him a thumbs up. She was always praising him for what she kept calling "self-advocacy."
Maddie glanced at Danny. "His doctors believe this to be a side effect."
A side effect of what?
"And we agreed as well, which is why we chose to list that as one of the updated IEP goals. Do you agree, Danny?" the school psychologist asked.
"Sure."
See? Easygoing and calm.
"So, Danny will respond to redirection with no more than two prompts eight out of ten times as measured across a six-month period," the coordinator recited. "And to help with this, along with the other listed accommodations and goals, we recommend he receive aide support in his general education courses for the remainder of the semester."
Danny blinked at the coordinator.
He was pretty sure his brain was behaving a little slower than normal because, for a second there, it sounded like the coordinator had just said the words "aide support."
"We completely agree," Maddie said. To Danny's bewilderment, she put her hand on his arm and began lightly stroking his sleeve with her thumb.
"As do I," Lancer said.
Danny's jaw opened, and he couldn't tell whether he should stare at Lancer in awe or betrayal. His brain was too jumbled to piece together any tangible emotions anyway.
For a second, he almost wished he weren't high. But then, that was a silly thought. Because if he were sober right now, he might have started yelling.
Perhaps Lancer was worried about these diminished emotions in Danny bubbling to the surface and causing a scene, because he held Danny's gaze as he said, too seriously and compassionately, "This is not a punishment, nor is this a one-on-one. You will still be a normal student. There will be another adult in all your classes. She will help you when you need it, and she'll leave you alone when you do not."
When Lancer put it like that, it was fine, wasn't it? Maybe that was the denial talking, or the fog shielding his brain from the shadows, but it was okay.
"There are lots of students who receive inclusion support," the psychologist added. "You're not the first, nor the only student in the building."
Yeah. He was still going to be a normal student attending normal classes. No one would have to know that the aide was there for him. Not if he did all his work in a timely manner and focused and took notes and raised his hand and always paid attention to what the teacher was saying and...and...
"Danny understands," Maddie said. She was still rubbing his arm. "Right?"
"Right."
"See? It's all okay!" Jack said.
And, right. It was all okay. Right now, he had nothing to worry about.
He would be fine. He was going to be so fine. He was going to do good in classes—great, even! He was Phantom after all, and Phantom was cool, popular, and everything that Fenton had always wanted to be. Aide or no aide, he was going to be fine.
So, he let himself bask in that delusion under the safety of the fog, and he was very calm and behaved appropriately for the rest of the meeting. No outbursts, no crying, because everything was wonderful!
Everything was so wonderful.
If he just let the drugs take the wheel.
Danny lay on the roof, staring up at the partially cloud-covered sky above him. The air smelled of rain, earthy and electric, and felt of decaying humidity. He tried to admire the way the stars twinkled, he tried to differentiate the red ones from the white ones to play his old game of which was moving the fastest toward and away from Earth, he tried to find Mars and Saturn, usually visible in the sky.
But everything seemed so…
He didn't know.
He never, never thought that he would seriously be the student who had to get…this. Whatever this was in that stupid, twenty-thousand-page contract.
Were all IEP documents that many pages? Or was it just Danny's?
Ms. Perez's learning center had a para. He remembered there being a para in his history class last year too. This annoying, mousy woman who joined midway through the year and kept harassing Danny to "stay in the classroom, please, don't leave! Where are you going?"
But he never seriously thought that he would be the sole cause of an aide joining a class. Or all his classes.
Would the other students know? Would the aide always be hovering over his shoulder? Or would it be like last year, where the para walked around the room and spent most of her time with the rowdy boys in the back of the class?
Danny had so many questions. And so many fears. None of which could be solved by a white pill.
Which, judging by the steadily increasing burning in his chest, was just about due.
But that would require getting up. It would require going home. It would require turning back into his human form.
All things Danny didn't want to do.
So he stayed there, trying to ignore the prickling in his chest, distracting himself with the preview of the night sky he could see through the clouds. He ignored the fact that he didn't understand why he didn't want to go home.
And he lay there until a slightly muffled voice, one that drove spikes into Danny's stomach, piped up from behind him. "Phantom? Danny?"
Shit.
It was just his freaking luck.
He debated turning around and offering his friendly, signature Phantom wave that he used to give back when he was trying to win her over.
But he just didn't have the energy for that tonight. And besides, there was no point. There was nothing left to win.
"Danny," Valerie repeated, though not a question this time.
"S'me," he responded dully.
She landed beside him, retracting her hoverboard, and from the corner of his eye, he watched as she twisted her gloves together and studied her boots.
Good. Let her feel uncomfortable for once.
"Hey. You have your ghost form back?" she tried.
"Yup."
Despite his internal voice begging him to try a little, he did not sound enthusiastic at all.
"Oh. Um, that's nice." She took a hesitant step toward him.
Was she afraid of him?
"Sure is," he said. If possible, his tone was even blander than before.
His chest was really hurting. And he was tired. Something dark was beginning to crawl in the corners of his eyes. He clearly wasn't up for this, so maybe they could wrap this conversation up?
"Um…the tail…it's—it's—" she stammered.
His eyes narrowed.
"You know, I wasn't sure—"
"What, if I'd have legs as a ghost? Well, I'm sure it's really pleasing for you to see that I obviously don't."
Danny couldn't see her expression under the mask, but judging by how she stepped back, he guessed he'd struck a blow to her confidence.
After all the shit he'd been through, she could take one measly little dig.
The silence stretched between them, dark and twisting, pulsing like a wave filling Danny's hollow body with all the resentment he'd been burying for months and years. His skin prickled while shadows loomed over his eyes, and suddenly, it was too much. Hiding was too much.
He pushed himself upright to mimic a seated position, his glower snapping to her because really? After everything he'd been through, she was going to bring up his paraplegia? That was how she really planned on opening this conversation?
After she'd tried so long to eradicate not just his lower half, but his entire fucking body?
His brain quietly pinged that he needed to leave now. He didn't feel right. It was going to get too dark soon.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to say that." She held her arms up, placating. "I—I never wanted…"
Her voice trailed off, and for good reason. Such a good reason, in fact, that Danny snorted. "You're such a liar, Val."
His tone was a deathly sharp dagger slicing whatever clumsy air simmered between them. Raw emotions spilled out, ripping both their histories to the forefront and pouring them all on the ground between them.
"I know!" Valerie slapped her helmet, her hand trembling as she exclaimed, "I know last year I was trying to…to…ugh!"
She crouched low on the gravel, and her fingers dug into her carbon-fiber head.
Danny didn't say anything. Just watched. He didn't understand this emotion bubbling in his chest. Why it made him want to snap, lash out, hurt Valerie.
He didn't understand why he couldn't leave.
"You never told me who you were," she said, her voice like sand on stone. "How was I supposed to know? I would never have hunted you if I'd known."
If anything, her words further deepened the hole that leaked his stock of patience from his body. "If that was supposed to be reassuring, it sucked. Oh, so I'm sup—supposed to be thankful now that I have a human heartbeat, because if I—if I didn't, then what? You would have no remorse killing me? Well, guess fucking what, Val, I don't have a heartbeat in this form."
He wasn't supposed to say that out loud, but he really didn't give a shit. Valerie was many things, but a snitch was not one of them.
Valerie dropped her gloves from her helmet screen, and Danny could imagine her dumbstruck face locking eyes with his.
Good.
He spread his arms out wide, giving her the best shot he could. "If you want to fucking blow my brains out, here's your opportunity!"
But she didn't move a muscle.
"Well?" he said, after the silence was beginning to turn awkward. "What the hell are you—are you waiting for?"
Another beat, then a quiet, "You were my friend. No, my boyfriend. I broke up with you because…because…"
"Because of Phantom."
"And you let me."
"What, did you seriously expect me to just—just out myself to you like that?"
What should have been an easy "no" left Valerie in silence.
"Come on, Val, you of all people should know why I couldn't say anything. You were at my fucking house. You saw…"
Danny couldn't finish. You saw me, he wanted to say. You saw everything they did to me.
She finally sat on the roof. Not right next to him, of course. They weren't ready for that yet. She gave him—or herself, Danny couldn't tell—several feet of space. But she was sitting, where before, she would have been attacking.
"I was so mad when you were revealed. So mad."
Darkness nipped at his cheeks, and he bit down the urge to snap at her again.
"I had made a whole speech I was going to give you when you got out. Had rehearsed it in the mirror and everything." Her voice grew weak. "I was so stupid to believe what they were saying. That it was just an imprisonment."
"You were," Danny said, not kindly, because really, she should have known. "You'd heard them before. You knew what—what they were going to do to me. You wanted to do that...too, I bet."
"Nothing like that," Valerie snapped. "Even in my worst moments, I would never have done anything like that."
The darkness slithered up his throat, and he didn't fight it when it took control of him and snarled, "Well, I guess I should—I should be flattered, then. You wanted to kill me, but at least you didn't want to torture me on the way out!"
"You ruined my life, Danny. And your parents always talked about how evil ghosts were. What the hell did you expect?"
Oh, so they were going there.
"I ruined your life, how—how, exactly? Because now you know—you know that I don't have a dog, Val. So whose dog was that?"
"Just because he's not your dog doesn't mean you don't babysit him all the time. I've seen those TikToks!"
"That weekend? In Axiom? That was the first time I'd ever met Cujo!"
"So he has a name, now?"
Danny wanted to scream. "Of course he has a name! He's a dog! He's a dog that your dad killed!"
"Shut up!" Her helmet whipped over to him again. "Don't you dare talk about my dad!"
"Well, it was! Your dad's security system replaced Axiom's last one. Wanna know what the last secure—last security system was? Because it wasn't a piece of—of technology, Val!"
"Shut up!" Valerie's voice broke.
Danny should have felt like an asshole, but he didn't. Instead, he looked numbly as Valerie's chest moved erratically, and listened as her cries ripped from her throat. And all he could feel was the urge to scream that he needed to leave and go home because it was going to be too dark soon, and he didn't understand what that meant but just that he knew he needed to flee.
"No, no, no. My dad—my dad would never do anything like that," Valerie said through clenched teeth. She retracted her helmet finally, her hands mopping her eyes and runny nose. "He would never."
But Danny didn't stop. "Cujo was just trying to get his squeaky toy back from one of—one of the closets inside. He was looking for it. He wasn't trying to do—to do anything else. Once he got his toy, he…he left. He went back to the Zone. Whatever happened to your dad, that wasn't my fault."
He always fantasized about the moment when he could finally sit Valerie down and explain himself. In all his daydreams, he approached her with empathy and understanding, and they ended their discussion with an embrace.
So what the hell was wrong with him tonight?
Why did he suddenly remember all the months she spent hunting him down, shooting him with every weapon in her arsenal, consequences to his body be damned. More than one night, he'd had to stitch his skin back together because of her.
Sam was always the one angry about that—not Danny. Danny always had excuses for Valerie. She didn't know he was Phantom, she was going through a hard time, he didn't figure out what Cujo was after soon enough.
But deep down inside, had he always been this angry?
"Fuck," she murmured.
She was right. This—no, they were fucked up. Their relationship was fucked up. Danny was fucked up.
And Valerie had seen that, the day she visited him in his bedroom. Back when he used to trace the cracks in his wall because without that, he couldn't be sure he existed at all.
"Why did you come visit me that day?" Danny finally asked. "You knew I—I'd just gotten home from the hospital. You knew—"
"I didn't," Valerie said, wiping her eyes. "I mean, I knew you'd gotten out of the hospital, but I didn't know, really. I mean, I didn't know the extent of…it."
Danny cocked his head. "I thought I was all over the news? That's what they told me."
"Yeah, but not you. Just people talking about you. Or old videos of you. There were rumors online, but nothing substantial."
"So that—that's why you thought it was just an imprisonment." Danny stared down at the foggy mist that was his spectral tail.
"I was in denial," Valerie said.
"Yeah."
He wondered if he would ever get his legs back in this form.
This darkness was beginning to get suffocating.
It was stemming from his chest, he realized.
He heard his voice ask, "Did you like what you saw? That day in my room?"
"That's sick, Danny."
But again, he didn't care. He didn't know why, but he didn't care. "What? I didn't put—put on a good enough show for you? All drugged up like that?"
He wanted to stop. He was a good person; why was he saying this? His words didn't even have any bite left to them. They were just…hollow. Just like the rest of him.
"You know that's not true. Just stop, please."
Was he an asshole?
No. No, he wasn't.
"Sorry," he conceded with.
He really needed another pill. He should have taken one with him before he left. He was so stupid for leaving all of them behind.
The darkness agreed with him.
You should take another pill now, a voice said in barely a whisper.
The darkness growled. It sounded like a dog.
"What was the trial like?" he asked, trying to ignore the pain in his chest.
"You mean you haven't seen it?" She sounded startled.
"No."
"Oh..." Valerie shifted awkwardly. "Um...I don't really know. It's on YouTube, you know?"
"I don't want to see it."
He should have gone home. He should have listened to the darkness.
There's still time for you to save yourself.
"Yeah, I got you. Um, I don't know, though. The legal jargon slipped over my head. And it was pretty fast, you know? There was a big celebration in town when the judge ordered you to be freed."
That was ironic, he realized. That while the town was celebrating, he had been dying from the final incision.
"What did they do to you in there?" her quiet voice said.
The air was getting darker now. Soon, the stars might be gone from view.
And the shadows were beginning to eat his skin.
So instead of answering, Danny turned invisible and flew away.
Getting the tones in each scene in this chapter right was sooooo hard.
Anyway, hooray for Valerie's appearance! I love that girl, for real. She doesn't play that big of a role in this fic, but I've been really wanting to have their confrontation happen for so long!
Thank you to imekitty for betaing this chapter!