Shy Danny ahead.

Chapter TW: Emotional Distress - Strong Language

~ Messages Left Unsaid ~

The world was a blur of muted sounds and shadows. Slowly, like a curtain being pulled back, the darkness began to fade. Danny's eyes fluttered open, his vision unfocused, hazy. A dull, throbbing pain radiated from his ribs and head, his body heavy and stiff as if every part of him had been weighed down by lead.

The first thing he became aware of was the steady murmur of voices, soft but urgent, like distant whispers that gradually sharpened into something recognizable.

"Danny… Danny, can you hear me?" Sam's voice, low and worried, pierced through the fog.

A groan slipped from his lips as he tried to move, every muscle in his body protesting with a wave of sharp, aching pain. His head felt like it was wrapped in cotton, heavy and disoriented, but slowly, the blurred figures around him began to take shape.

He was lying down—on something soft but unfamiliar. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, and the bright overhead lights made him squint. A small frown creased his brow as he turned his head, his vision gradually sharpening. Sam was sitting at his left, leaning forward with concern etched into her features. On his right, Tucker hovered, his hands fidgeting nervously.

"Thank God," Tucker muttered, relief evident in his voice as he saw Danny's eyes open. "We thought you were out cold for good."

Danny blinked slowly, trying to piece everything together. The last thing he remembered was the cold tile floor, the excruciating pain in his ribs, and Dash's cruel voice echoing in his ears. He winced as the memories flooded back, his body instinctively curling slightly at the thought.

"W—where am I?" he croaked, his voice hoarse, throat dry.

"You're in the nurse's office," Sam said softly, her gaze never leaving his face. "We found you in the hallway… You were unconscious. Dash and his goons—" She trailed off, her voice tightening with anger.

Danny groaned again, attempting to sit up, but the pain in his side flared up instantly, causing him to gasp and collapse back onto the makeshift bed. His hand instinctively went to his ribs, wincing at the soreness beneath his fingertips.

"Easy, man," Tucker warned, gently placing a hand on Danny's shoulder to keep him from moving. "You took a serious beating. The nurse said you might have bruised ribs… maybe worse. You've been out for a while."

"Guys—" Danny's voice cracked as he tried to sit up again, his body protesting with sharp pain radiating from his ribs. He winced but forced the words out, quieter this time, almost a whisper. "You know—I can heal myself, right? It's fine."

His eyes darted between Sam and Tucker, a faint attempt at reassurance in his gaze. But even as he spoke, there was a strain in his voice, like he wasn't fully convinced himself.

Sam's brows furrowed, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Concern etched deeply into her expression, and she leaned closer. "Yeah, we know, Danny," she said softly, her voice laced with worry. "But still… that doesn't make it okay. You're hurt."

Her eyes flickered down to where his hand rested protectively over his ribs, and she bit her lip. "You shouldn't have to heal yourself just because of… them."

Tucker chimed in, nodding. "Dude, just because you can doesn't mean you should have to. It's not right, what happened."

Danny shifted uncomfortably on the small cot, the tension in his body unmistakable. He glanced at the door of the nurse's office, then at Sam and Tucker, who were still hovering close by. His hands fidgeted in his lap, fingers nervously brushing over the fabric of the thin blanket draped across his legs. The fear gnawing at the back of his mind wasn't just about the physical pain—it was something deeper.

"I should… probably go to the counselor," he mumbled, barely audible. His voice was tight, unsure, like he didn't believe his own words.

But even as he said it, his stomach churned with anxiety. The idea of walking into the counselor's office, explaining the bullying, revealing how weak he felt—it made his chest tighten, his throat dry. No he thought, I can't do that. What if it made things worse? What if speaking out just painted a bigger target on his back?

His heart raced with the thought, and he instinctively lowered his gaze to the floor, his eyes fixating on a small scuff mark on the tile. He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fear that clawed at his insides.

But Sam, ever watchful, noticed. "Danny, you don't have to be afraid to talk about it. You deserve better than this, it's really getting out of hand," she said softly, her voice was a mix of sympathy and frustration. She reached out as if to touch his arm, but Danny shifted slightly away, not wanting the conversation to continue down this path. He couldn't talk about it. Not yet.

Instead, he sighed and turned inward, focusing on the one thing he knew he could control—healing himself. His hand moved slowly, almost instinctively, up to his head, the fingers trembling just slightly from the lingering pain.

Danny closed his eyes, his breathing steadying as he concentrated, summoning the energy from deep within him. A cold sensation began to gather in his palm, growing stronger with each passing second, the familiar pulse of his ghostly abilities flowing through him. His hand hovered over the sore spot on his head, and then, with a soft exhale, he directed the energy downward.

A thin layer of ice began to form beneath his fingertips, cool and comforting. It spread slowly, like a soft frost, the cold seeping into his skin and numbing the pain in his skull. He felt the pressure and throbbing in his head begin to fade, the sharp ache dissolving as the ice mended the damage. His posture relaxed slightly, his shoulders slumping as the tension eased out of him.

He kept his eyes closed, savoring the brief moment of relief, before lowering his hand back down. His fingers brushed absently against his temple, checking for any lingering soreness—but there was none. The pain was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Danny then shifted his attention to his ribs, the area that had taken the brunt of Dash's attack. He grimaced as his hand hovered over his side, wincing at the sharp ache that still burned deep in his torso. Slowly, he placed his hand over the tender spot, feeling the faint rise and fall of his breath beneath his palm.

Again, he concentrated, drawing the cold energy from within. A cool blue glow flickered under his hand as the ice formed once more, sinking into his skin, soothing the bruised muscles and bones beneath. He felt the tightness in his ribs loosen, the sharp pain dulling until it was barely a memory.

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep, relieved breath. The ache in his body was gone, replaced by a sense of numb calm. He was healed. As if nothing had happened.

Danny's eyes flickered open, his gaze drifting to Sam and Tucker, who were still watching him closely. He straightened slightly, sitting up taller on the cot, but the weight of everything that had just happened still pressed heavily on his mind.

He forced a small, shaky smile, trying to pretend that the healing had somehow erased all of the fear and frustration inside him. But it hadn't.

"So, uh—how long was I out?" Danny asked, forcing a small smile as he sat up, trying to ease the weight of the tension that still lingered in the air. His voice felt rough, like it hadn't been used in hours, but at least he was awake, right?

Tucker, who was fiddling with his phone, glanced down at the screen and didn't even hesitate. "Like, four whole days," he said casually, his eyes still on the screen.

Danny's heart skipped a beat. "Fuck! Four days?!" he blurted out, feeling a sudden wave of panic rising in his chest.

"Tucker! No!" Sam shot Tucker a glare, shaking her head before turning back to Danny. Her voice softened as she explained, "We're just past school hours, Danny. You were only out for a little while."

Danny let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived. "Oh, really?" He blinked, realizing what that meant. His eyes widened in alarm. "Wait—school's over? I have to go, now!"

He bolted up from the bed, his heart was racing. There wasn't time to think, only to act. Without hesitation, Danny let his ghost powers surge to the surface.

It happened instinctively. A bright white halo appeared around his waist, duplicated itself, one shooting up and the other going down like lightning. His humon form was swallowed up in a flash, the familiar rush of energy crackling through his skin as he transformed. His body now weightless and charged with his ghostly power. His hair shifted to its snowy white, glowing faintly under the dim lights of the nurse's office, his eyes glowing green that bounced of his facial features. His vision sharpened, and his breath came out in cool, even streams.

A cool, weightless sensation wrapped around him as he flew a little upward, hovering above the ground. He didn't even pause to look back—he just went intangible and phased through the ceiling effortlessly, his body blending with the solid matter until he was outside, shooting up into the open air.

The autumn afternoon stretched out in peaceful stillness, with the sun casting its golden light over the quiet streets. The breeze stirred gently, rustling the dry, brittle leaves that tumbled lazily across the pavement. As the sun dipped lower, long shadows stretched out from the trees, their vibrant red and gold leaves glowing in the warm light.

But unseen by anyone, Danny soared silently through the air, his white hair gleaming faintly in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun. The crisp breeze brushed against his face as he flew high above the town, his form blending seamlessly with the golden sky as he glided effortlessly, weightless, through the crisp autumn air.

With a soft, controlled exhale, he faded from view, his body vanishing into thin air as he turned invisible. The clear blue sky remained uninterrupted, the bright sun shining down, but no one could see the ghostly figure darting between the treetops, his silhouette now nothing more than a whisper in the air.

Danny's flight was quick, his pace steady as he headed toward the bus station. Below him, the streets were bathed in warm light, the occasional crunch of leaves underfoot marking the passage of those lingering after school. But Danny's presence went unnoticed, his invisible form slipping through the stillness like a shadow lost in the brightness of the day.

The wind swept around him, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves and distant wood smoke. He could see the bus station in the distance now, its small gathering of students waiting for their rides home, unaware of the invisible figure soaring above them. The light danced off the windows of the buses, casting flickers of gold against the dark asphalt.

Danny adjusted his speed, slowing as he approached, he hovered for a moment, completely unseen, a quiet observer of the peaceful scene below, before lowering himself softly toward the bus station, waiting, watching, invisible to all.

As he hovered above the bus station, his eyes scanned the small gathering of students below. His gaze flitted over each person quickly, searching for that one face he was looking for. The golden light bathed everyone in a warm glow, making the scene almost picturesque, but his focus was razor-sharp.

And then he saw her.

Hailey stood near a group of people, casually talking and laughing, her presence standing out against the backdrop of the bustling station. Something in the way she carried herself drew his attention, a familiar pull that tugged at the corners of his mind. She hadn't noticed him, of course—not that she could, with him still invisible.

Danny floated just above the group, watching her quietly for a moment. He felt a relief and anticipation, but also that gnawing hesitation that made his chest tighten. Seeing her like this, normal and unaware, it reminded him of the distance between them—how much he kept hidden from her, how much she didn't know. His thoughts flickered back to the messages he hadn't yet read. They'd been nagging at the back of his mind all day, and now more than ever, he felt the weight of those unanswered words.

But now wasn't the time. Or was it?

Danny exhaled softly and backed away, glancing around for a quiet spot where he could safely change back. The trees lining the bus station provided just enough cover. He spotted a small, secluded corner behind one of the trees, hidden from view but close enough that he could still keep an eye on Hailey.

In one smooth motion, Danny lowered himself to the ground and slipped into the shadowed area. The moment his feet touched down, the familiar rings of bright white light appeared around him. The halos circled him with a soft hum, moving up and down his body, and within seconds, the ghostly figure was gone—replaced by the familiar human form.

His breath felt heavier now, human again, as he leaned against the tree for a moment, collecting himself. Going through his hair as if he wanted to smooth it, while his other fingers absently brushed the phone in his pocket. Should he check the messages now? He could feel the vibration still buzzing faintly in his mind, reminding him of the unknown, waiting for him.

Maybe I should… He hesitated, glancing toward Hailey from behind the tree, who was still deep in conversation with that group of people around her. He had time. No one would notice him for a minute.

He pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up with the notification of the missed messages. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, the curiosity gnawing at him. What could she have said? Was it something important? Something personal?

Danny bit his lower lip, his eyes flickering between the phone and Hailey. He needed to know. With a sigh, he swiped the screen and opened the messages.

There were six unread messages?

94x-xxx-673: 'You can think 'bout it, tho.'

94x-xxx-673: 'Danny, r u okay? I'm bored here at school. Everyone is so annoying atm. Especially the teachers.'

94x-xxx-673: 'Stupid math class over here, hope u having a better class.'

94x-xxx-673: 'She ripped my fckn' drawing! I hit her 'cause I was angry.'

94x-xxx-673: 'Uh, Danny? This is ur number, right?'

94x-xxx-673: 'I guess it isn't. Fuck! Sorry for bothering.'

After reading those messages, Danny felt a warmth spread through his chest, and without even realizing it, a soft smile tugged at his lips. It shouldn't be funny, but she made him laugh a little. The tension that had knotted in his shoulders for the past few hours eased, if only for a moment. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, his gaze shifting toward the crowd gathered at the bus station.

Hailey was not far away now, cheerful and smiling, her laughter blending with the chatter of the people around her. She looked so comfortable, so at ease. Seeing her like this, it was hard not to feel a pull toward her—like something familiar, something that grounded him in a way he couldn't quite explain.

But just as he took a step forward, something in him faltered. The sea of people surrounding her—talking, laughing, moving—suddenly felt suffocating. His heart tightened, anxiety rising like a slow, unwelcome tide. Normally, it was just the two of them here, with only a few others scattered about, waiting quietly for their buses. But today, it was crowded. Too crowded. The thought of weaving through all those people, of being watched as he approached her, made his stomach twist.

His feet stopped moving, hesitation pulling him back like an invisible chain. He couldn't do it. Not like this. Not with all these eyes.

Instead, Danny turned sharply to his right, his eyes darting around for an escape. He passed by Hailey, his steps quick and quiet as he avoided her gaze, blending into the edges of the crowd. He headed toward the small building behind the bus station, where he knew there was a bench tucked away—somewhere he could still see her but wouldn't have to face the crowded space between them.

Sitting down, Danny leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he pulled his phone from his pocket again. His fingers hovered over the screen for a moment as he opened Hailey's messages, the same smile she had brought to his face still flickering faintly. But his hands were trembling slightly, the familiar weight of social anxiety pressing down on him.

Maybe I'll just message her instead… It felt easier. Less exposed. Less vulnerable.

His fingers moved over the keyboard, typing out a quick reply:

'Yeah. This is Danny, sorry. Lot happened at school today, I couldn't answer.'

He pressed send and immediately glanced up, his eyes locking on Hailey in the distance. He watched her, waiting to see if she would reach for her phone, hoping that maybe this was the right way to approach her after all. But she didn't notice—still caught up in conversation, her phone forgotten for the moment.

Danny sighed, leaning back against the bench as the phone sat loosely in his hands. He kept his gaze fixed on her, that familiar pull still there, but the anxiety kept him rooted to the bench, watching from afar.

A bus pulled into the station with a loud hiss, the rumble of its engine breaking the quiet rhythm of the afternoon. The small crowd around Hailey began to disperse, stepping onto the bus one by one. Danny watched them go, his eyes flicking back to Hailey. But she didn't move. She stood there, still, watching the bus leave as if she were waiting for something—or someone.

Wait… wasn't that her bus?

The station was less crowded now, a little more peaceful, and Hailey was standing alone, her gaze following the bus as it pulled away. She looked exactly like she always did—familiar, yet striking. Her black bomber jacket hugged her frame, her blue baggy jeans hanging loose over a pair of worn white sneakers. And then there was her hair—split right down the middle, one side pearl white, the other side pitch black. It was something bold, alternative, that only she could pull off. Her black backpack with stitched patches was slung lazily over one shoulder, adding to the casual yet confident vibe she always had.

Danny's fingers fidgeted over his phone, brushing the screen, pretending to refresh the messages just to kill time. His heart was still beating a little faster from the sight of her, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to actually face her. What would he even say?

But suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"Danny?"

His name, spoken softly but with the usual confidence, cut through his internal monologue. His eyes snapped up, and there she was—standing just a few feet in front of him, a small smile on her lips.

How did she—? He hadn't even noticed her approach.

"Hailey, hi…" He felt the heat rising in his face, his heart doing that awkward little flip in his chest. He opened his mouth to explain, but the words seemed to get caught somewhere between his brain and his mouth. "Sorry, I couldn't…" he started, but the sentence trailed off.

There was a brief pause, the air hanging between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Hailey gave him a small, knowing smile before she sat down next to him on the bench. She shuffled her backpack between her legs, resting it on the ground. The soft creak of the bench under her weight seemed louder than it should've been, and Danny could feel his pulse in his ears.

"Are you… okay?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with concern.

Danny swallowed hard, feeling her blue eyes on him. Should he tell her about his day? About what really happened at school? The bullying, the pain, the way Dash had left him crumpled on the ground? What would she think of him if she knew? That he was weak? That he was just a freaky nerd who couldn't stand up for himself?

He met her gaze briefly, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to look right through him. She knew. Somehow, she could always tell when something was off. He forced a smile, but it felt thin and unconvincing.

"Yeah—I'm fine. How are you?"

Hailey let out a sigh and leaned back against the bench, resting her arms on the backrest. "Well, everything was going smooth… at first. But then in math class, I wasn't paying attention because, honestly, who cares about math?" She waved her hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. "So, I started drawing instead. And then, out of nowhere, my teacher just—" Hailey clenched her hands into tight fists, raising her eyebrows in mock fury. "—she ripped my drawing apart. Into pieces. Like, how dare she? So, of course, I kinda… lost it."

Danny couldn't help it—he felt a warmth spread through his stomach, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. She had that effect on him, even when she was mad. "Wait… lost it how?"

"I punched her. With my fist," Hailey said, deadpan, before breaking into a mischievous grin.

Danny's eyes widened. "You punched your teacher? Really?" He bit back a laugh, though he was more surprised than anything. "And you couldn't, I don't know, calm yourself down first?"

"She. Ripped. My. Drawing." Hailey punctuated each word like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "My personal drawing, Danny. How do you expect me to stay calm after that?"

Danny chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay, I'd be mad too. But maybe not enough to punch someone…"

"I know, I know," Hailey sighed, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. "My impulse control sucks. You probably wouldn't understand, though. You're too… I don't know, nice." She shot him a teasing glance, her smile softening. "So… how was your day?"

Danny froze for a second, feeling the weight of the question sink into him. How was his day? The image of Dash slamming him into the lockers flashed through his mind. Him lying on the cold ground. The kicks, the laughter, the pain—it all came rushing back, and suddenly his throat felt tight again.

"Well, uh—" He hesitated, shifting awkwardly on the bench. "I almost got kicked out of class because you, uh, sent me a message."

Hailey's eyes lit up, her playful smile returning. "Oh, so you did get my messages?" Her tone was light but teasing, as if she'd been waiting for him to admit it.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly followed by going through his hair. "Yeah… it's kind of a long story. I'm sorry I didn't text you back sooner. I did, like, five minutes ago."

Hailey raised an eyebrow, looking both amused and mockingly indignant. "Five minutes ago? And here I thought I was being ignored."

"No, I swear," Danny said, feeling a little shy under her gaze. "It's just… a lot happened today."

Hailey shifted, turning her upper body to face him more fully, her legs folded up on the bench. "What happened, Danny? I can tell something's up. You can talk to me, you know."

Her voice was gentle, and the sincerity in her eyes made him feel… safe. For a moment, he considered telling her everything. But then she spoke again, breaking the moment. "Wait… do you have plans right now? Like, do you need to be somewhere?"

"Well, I—probably should go home," Danny admitted, though part of him didn't really want to.

Hailey's gaze flicked to him sharply, her expression curious. "Where's your backpack?"

Danny blinked, suddenly realizing he had no idea where it was. He hadn't even thought about it until now. His stomach dropped slightly as he glanced around, half expecting it to magically appear. But of course, it didn't. Sure it was still laying in the hallway back at school, with all his stuff thrown out. Or maybe Sam and Tucker gathered his stuff back together.

"I… I don't know," he muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Hailey's laugh rang out, not mocking but warm. "You lost your backpack?" she asked, her tone teasing but light.

Danny chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Yeah, well… things got a little complicated today."

Yeah, meet Hailey. My OC.

I know it can be tricky to introduce an OC into a FanFiction, but she plays a role I couldn't imagine anyone else filling. I initially considered characters like Valerie or even Starr, but they would've led the story in a completely different direction than I intended.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!