Author's note: I'm still here~
Disillusioned
I don't remember how to be me
...
"Seat belt, Danny."
Danny looked over at Jazz in the driver's seat of her car. She was watching him, waiting. Without a word, Danny pulled the belt over his shoulder. Jazz then put the car in drive and headed in the direction of Casper High.
The first minute or so was silent. Danny could tell Jazz wanted to say something, and while he would prefer to stay quiet the whole drive, he wished she would just spit out what was on her mind already.
"So," Jazz finally said, looking straight ahead as she drove. "We haven't really had a chance to talk since you've come home."
"I guess not," said Danny.
"I mean, I've been at school all day during the week, then I had homework, of course. I've really only been seeing you at dinner, and then you go to bed early."
"Yeah. I've been tired."
"Have you gone out on patrol even once since you've been back?"
Danny paused before mumbling, "No."
Jazz said nothing as she concentrated on making a right turn at a red light. Danny thought about leaning over and switching on the radio, turning the volume way up to drown out all of her unasked questions.
"Tucker and Sam have been asking me about you," said Jazz after she completed the turn. "I told them you got a new phone since the police still have custody of your old phone. But I didn't give them the new number yet."
Danny could feel the weight of his new phone in his pocket, but he had barely touched it at all since his mom had given it to him. All of the mobile games he used to play and the social media feeds he used to mindlessly scroll through seemed unappealing to him at the moment. He couldn't even remember why he used to enjoy wasting so much time on his phone.
"I lost all of my contacts," said Danny, "and I couldn't remember their numbers."
"You could've asked me. I have their numbers."
"Yeah, I know. I kept meaning to ask you. I just forgot."
"Well, I guess you can ask them for their numbers yourself when you see them today."
"I guess so."
Both fell into another silence. Danny again glanced at the radio console, wondering if the same songs from more than a month ago were still popular or if he wouldn't recognize anything playing now.
"You will tell us what really happened, won't you?" asked Jazz suddenly.
Danny frowned. "What really happened?"
"While you were gone," clarified Jazz. "Where you went, what you were doing, how you got that eye scar—"
"It's really not a big deal."
"What isn't? Where you went, or how you got that scar?"
Danny shook his head and looked out the window.
"We know you can't tell Mom and Dad or the police the truth," continued Jazz, "but we also know that you weren't just living on the streets while you were gone. Were you in the Ghost Zone? Were you staying with a ghost like Frostbite? Or someone else?" Jazz huffed. "You certainly weren't staying with Clockwork."
Danny tensed, his shoulders lifting as he scowled, remembering how Vlad told him that Clockwork refused to reveal Danny's location when Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Vlad had visited him in his lair.
He still wasn't entirely sure if that was true or not—and he certainly couldn't ask Jazz if it was, not without her wondering how he could possibly know that—but it sounded just like something Clockwork would do in his obsession to watch time and let it unfold the way it was destined to.
And judging by Jazz's bitter tone when she mentioned the time ghost's name, he was only more convinced that Clockwork really did just allow his own mother to continue torturing him in that lab for nearly a month.
"Please, Danny," begged Jazz. "Please talk to us. We're so worried."
"Worried about what?" asked Danny.
Jazz hesitated. "That something…bad happened to you."
"Something like what?"
Jazz flipped her turn signal but said nothing.
Danny sighed, realizing that it was no use trying to convince her and his friends of the same lie he tried telling the police. They knew too much about him; he had to come up with a better lie for them.
"I really did run away," said Danny quietly. "But you're right that I wasn't just living on the streets. I didn't want to be found, so I was hiding in the Ghost Zone. Had a few bad run-ins with some ghosts."
"Is that how your eye got injured?" asked Jazz.
"Ah—yes," stammered Danny, not sure how else he could possibly explain it. It was certainly a more believable story than trying to insist he tripped and fell.
"But how exactly did it happen?" pressed Jazz.
Danny turned over ideas in his head, explanations, whereabouts, ghosts he could make up so Jazz and his friends would never be able to find and ask them for the truth.
"I'll tell you later," said Danny. "I'll tell all of you—Sam and Tucker too—when we all get together again."
"You really will?" Jazz's tone was hopeful but worried.
No. He really wouldn't.
"Yes," said Danny.
Jazz swallowed and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Danny, um… I know that our last conversation… I mean, you know, the night you left. We had a bit of an argument."
Oh, yes, Danny remembered Jazz coming into his room and demanding that he hand over the last of his narcotics because she thought he was just a drug addict like everyone else. He folded his arms, digging his nails into his skin through his sleeves.
"I know that maybe you still don't exactly trust me after what happened that night," Jazz continued, "but please just know that I'm here for you, Danny. Always." She sniffled. "And…and next time you feel like running away, please… Will you at least just come to me and tell me first?"
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Even if it's three in the morning, I don't care." Jazz's voice weakened. "Just let me know what's going on."
Danny slumped in his seat as her silent tears continued to fall. But he didn't answer, because he couldn't possibly make her any promises like that right now.
The rest of the drive to Casper High was agonizingly slow. Danny almost wondered if Jazz was driving slowly on purpose, or perhaps there was just more traffic than usual. Either way, he was quick to jump out of the car the moment Jazz parked in the student lot.
"Danny!" Jazz called after him as he started walking ahead of her toward the school.
"I'll see you later, Jazz," Danny responded without another look back. He just had to get away from her, away from all of her questions and scrutiny before she saw right through him like she always did.
He powered his way to school, brisk pace, the morning spring breeze cool but already holding the promise of a warm summer. He could only hope the scars on his arms would fade enough so he could wear short-sleeved shirts again before the heat started sweltering.
His right lower leg jammed up with shooting pain. Danny hissed and stumbled, dropping to the sidewalk and massaging the spasms in his shin.
An image popped into his head, his mother holding a sledgehammer high above her head and then swinging it down into his leg, bone cracking and splintering out of his skin—
He screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth against the memory. The pain dulled, faded, and Danny stood again, taking in his surroundings. On one side, a few cars were parked along the curb—a hefty blue pickup, a small green sedan, a large white van—and on the other, the walkway leading to the school's main entrance.
He walked slowly, his shin flaring with sharp but tolerable pain. When he reached the school's front steps, he stared up at the main entrance, suddenly very aware of exactly where he was and what he was doing. Several students walked past him, some giving him curious looks before turning and whispering with their friends.
The large words labeling the school loomed high above the main entry window: Casper High. Stark, bold, proud lettering.
He realized fully that it had been well over a month since he was last here.
A cold sweat broke out on his neck and dripped down his back as he wondered if he even remembered his class schedule or where his locker was.
And now he was becoming intensely more aware of the students pushing past and staring at him, whispering behind their hands.
Danny Fenton—
Isn't that Danny Fenton?—
Danny Fenton, I thought he was missing?—
Yes, but you saw the news, didn't you? He came back—
Where was he?—
Nobody knows, but I'll tell you what I've heard—
Danny Danny Danny Danny—
"Danny."
Danny jumped, his heart pounding as he turned to see who was addressing him. Principal Ishiyama smiled at him—up at him, Danny couldn't help but notice after his freshman year when he was definitely shorter than her.
"I'm so glad to see you today, and that you've come a little early," said Ishiyama. "Please, will you follow me to my office? Just so we can go over what the rest of the semester might look like for you."
She lightly brushed his arm before gesturing to the school doors. Danny did not object, happy to follow her because this meant he could delay seeing Sam and Tucker just a little bit longer.
He had only been in Principal Ishiyama's office a couple times—he usually ended up in Vice-Principal Lancer's office when he was in trouble—but he was surprised how familiar it all was. The decor, the chairs, the books on the shelves, the knickknacks and raven bobbleheads wearing football helmets.
Familiar, yes, and yet he still had that queer feeling of being out of place, of not belonging, like he shouldn't be here even though she had invited him in.
Ishiyama flitted from topic to topic, schedules and makeup homework and how she had a meeting with all of his teachers the week before and they were all so completely thrilled he was home safe and sound again, so enthusiastic about helping him get caught up and complete the semester on time. Final exams were coming up, but if he needed an extra week to study for them, all he had to do was ask, really! Ishiyama was willing to work with him in whatever way he needed and she really was just so relieved he was back again, safe and unharmed. Oh, it was just so good to see him again! Really! She had been so worried, so very worried. Everyone had just been worried sick about him the whole three weeks he was gone.
Danny nodded, thanked her, smiled, nodded again, over and over and over.
"Please come see me anytime, Danny," said Ishiyama, sitting at her desk and clasping her hands. "My door is always open. And you might already have a therapist of your own that you're seeing, but our school counselor, Ms. Epps, is available if you need someone to talk to about anything."
Memories of the therapist he only saw once replayed in Danny's head. Brandan Cross. It had been so long ago now, but he still remembered that guy's pleasant smile and perceptive gaze, the way he was able to catch on so quickly to Danny's uneasy feelings about his mother.
God, that guy was infuriating.
But perhaps even more infuriating was Ishiyama suggesting that he already had his own therapist. Did she really think he was that broken? That he definitely needed that kind of help?
"Sounds good," said Danny. "Thanks so much."
The bell rang. Ishiyama jumped up and held open the door for Danny.
"Mr. Lancer can go over more details with you if you'd like," she said. "He was very insistent about doing anything possible to help you. I think he was probably the most worried of all of us."
"He was?" asked Danny, not sure he could possibly believe that.
"Oh, yes," said Ishiyama. "But we were all so worried, really. It's just so very good to see you again, Danny."
She had said it so many times now that Danny was starting to wonder if she actually meant it or was just hoping if she said it often enough that he would believe it.
"It's good to see you again too, Principal Ishiyama," said Danny.
Ishiyama smiled and waved goodbye as he walked past her and down the hall to homeroom. Even after weeks, his steps were automatic, the layout of the school just as he remembered it.
But he glanced at the schedule Ishiyama had printed for him anyway just to be sure he was definitely standing in front of the right doorway. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. The classroom was busy with loud chatter, but the noise died almost instantly as soon as he entered.
Everyone was staring at him, including Sam and Tucker, who were already sitting at their desks.
Time seemed to stop, and for a moment, Danny wondered if maybe his mom had been right. Maybe he should've just stayed home.
"Danny!" Mrs. Werner greeted him with warm enthusiasm. "It's so wonderful to have you back with us."
"Thank you," said Danny, not sure how else to reply. Were all of his teachers going to say the same thing to him all day long?
The silence in the class broke, and all the students began expressing their excitement that he was back. Many of the students had barely even spoken to him before, but they all acted as if his presence really had been missed.
He took a seat beside Tucker and behind Sam, his usual spot. Sam turned around and Tucker leaned over.
"Hey," said Danny, forcing a smile but keeping his mouth closed as he set his books down.
"Hey," said Sam. "You, uh, you look—wait, no, that's not how I meant to start." Sam shut her eyes tight, her head shaking in an indication of wanting to start over. "We've been wondering when we would finally see you."
"Yeah," said Tucker. "We've been texting Jazz, asking how you're doing."
"She said the police still have your old phone," said Sam. "She said you have a new number?"
Sam and Tucker waited, looking at him expectantly. Danny blinked and reached into his pocket.
"Oh. Yeah." Danny pulled out his phone. "My parents did buy me a new phone."
"It's the latest Android!" Tucker's eyes lit up. "I'm so jealous!"
"Is it?" Danny turned the phone over. "I honestly haven't done much with it. I haven't set it up or downloaded any apps."
Tucker dropped his jaw. "You're kidding! You've had a phone like that and you've done nothing with it?"
"I've just been busy," said Danny with a shrug. "I don't even know what my new number is."
"Here, I'll add myself to your contacts," said Sam, holding out her hand.
Danny gave her his phone without any hesitation. Sam took it and quickly tapped away, then handed it to Tucker, who spent a little longer adding his contact information along with going through the settings.
"I sent myself a text," said Sam, holding up her own phone. "So now we're connected again."
Danny nodded. "Great. Thanks, Sam."
"A phone this cool really is so wasted on you, Danny," muttered Tucker. "I wish my parents would buy me a new phone, but they insist my old one is just as good. My phone used to belong to my mom, and it's already three years old!"
"My parents always buy me the latest phone model each year," said Sam. "Such a waste of money, and do you know how harmful to our planet it is to mine the rare metals used to make those phones? All of the toxic runoff it produces?"
"Yeah, sure, of course," said Tucker. "Feel free to give me the next phone your parents try to force on you, Sam."
Sam rolled her eyes, and Danny felt relieved. This sort of interaction, this bickering, it was normal. Sam and Tucker were acting just as he remembered.
And anything normal was welcome right now.
A flash of blond hair by the open classroom door caught Danny's attention. He looked up to find Dash poking his head in, scanning the room until he locked eyes with Danny and smirked. Danny immediately tensed, wishing he could shrink down into his seat.
"Hey, Fenton! So you're really not dead," said Dash, standing by the classroom door and never fully entering the room. "I heard rumors that you were coming back today, but I said I wasn't gonna believe it until I saw it myself. But I guess the rumors were true." He leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. "I wonder if the other rumors about you are true, too."
Danny furrowed his brow. The unknown but ominous implication behind Dash's words did not settle well in his gut. He looked at Sam and Tucker, but they were both avoiding his gaze.
"Dash, the bell is going to ring soon," said Mrs. Werner. "Get going to your own homeroom right now, please."
Dash patted the doorframe a couple times. "Sure thing, Mrs. Werner." He gave Danny a final nod before disappearing.
"What rumors is he talking about?" Danny asked Sam and Tucker when Dash was completely out of sight.
"Oh, you know." Tucker shrugged. "You going missing was kind of big news for our small town, and people talk. And with how famous your parents are for ghost research and ghost hunting, it attracted quite a few conspiracy theorists."
"Conspiracy theorists?" Danny's heart thumped. "What were they saying?"
"People just like to gossip, Danny," Sam said quickly. "It was just crazy ideas about what really happened to you."
"What crazy ideas?"
Sam flinched and glanced around. "Danny, let's not talk about this here."
"Yeah, this is the first time we've seen you in a while, and class is about to start," said Tucker.
"No, I want to know now," said Danny. "What have people been saying about me?"
"Danny." Sam's voice dropped to just above a whisper. "We'll tell you later, okay?"
She gestured around the classroom, indicating several students who were turned toward them, not even pretending they weren't eavesdropping. Danny flushed as he gave in, slumping in his seat just as the bell rang.
Danny held his pencil and began tapping the eraser against his desk in rapid succession, but his mind would not focus as he wondered what rumors and conspiracy theories and "crazy ideas" about his disappearance had been floating around town.
His thoughts raced over all of the reporters who had been waiting outside of the police station, all of their probing questions, one of them even asking if his mother was a suspect in his disappearance.
If the reporters were asking that question, then that could only mean others were asking it, too.
And what other questions were they asking? What answers were they coming up with?
His nerves chilled and shivered. He could only hope that no one was guessing anything even close to the truth.
…
Danny, Danny, Danny…
He kept hearing his name being whispered everywhere he went. Through the halls during passing period when heads would turn in his direction. During class when they were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture but would instead steal glances at him.
He could not decide if he was imagining this or not. Sam kept insisting that no one was looking at him, really! But Dash's words kept coming back to him, how he wondered if the "rumors" about Danny were true.
He still had no idea what these rumors were, and Tucker and Sam kept evading his questions, insisting there wasn't enough time, they only had a few minutes to get to their next class, later, later, later, Danny.
But if Dash was wondering about these rumors, that meant other students were wondering about them, too.
Just what else were they saying about him as they whispered his name? What rumors and gossip were they exchanging behind their secret smiles?
Each class started exactly the same. He would appear and the teacher would break into a wide grin and greet him enthusiastically with some variation on "oh, Danny, it's so good to see you again!"
Danny almost hated this more than the whispers. Because did his teachers ever think it was "good" to see him back before he went missing? It certainly never seemed that way.
It felt like everyone was keeping something from him, hiding something as they pretended to be so very excited he was back in class.
But he was hiding something, too. Oh, yes, he was a player in this game as well.
So he wore his own secret smile. Because lying was practically his hobby now.
At lunch, Danny sat with Sam and Tucker at their usual table in the cafeteria.
"I can't believe it's raining again," said Sam with a sigh. She raised a bottle of kombucha to her mouth and gulped it down with a smack of her lips. "I mean, I love rain, but I also love eating outside in the fresh air."
"Yeah, Danny, it rained so much last week," said Tucker, taking a bite of his burger. "We were able to eat outside, like, once. Just rain almost every day."
"I know," said Danny. "I live here, too."
Sam and Tucker became very quiet. Tucker stopped chewing entirely.
"Right, yeah." Tucker swallowed his bite hard and shook his head. "Sorry, it's just—I mean, you weren't here. With us." He looked down at the table. "You were home, of course you knew it rained a lot last week," he muttered.
"It really is so great to have you back," said Sam. "Do you have any idea what it's like to eat lunch alone with Tucker?"
"Hey, eating with just you isn't a fun time either," said Tucker. He then threw back his shoulders and started speaking in a high-pitched imitation of Sam. "'Tucker, don't you know that burger you're eating was once a cow that had thoughts and feelings and didn't want to die?' 'Tucker, don't you realize you're shoving literal cancer into your mouth right now?'"
"Well, it's true," said Sam. "Don't come crying to me when you give yourself a heart attack at age forty."
"Oh, my God, are we still going to be eating lunch together when we're forty?" Tucker's jaw dropped in mock horror.
"No, 'cause you'll be dead," said Sam, primly stabbing a piece of her salad. "Now whether it's clogged arteries or the cows finally rising up and getting their revenge, I couldn't say."
Tucker rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He chomped another huge bite out of his burger.
Sam made a face of disgust, then turned to look at Danny. And at that moment, Danny realized that he wasn't smiling at all when he normally would've found this banter quite amusing. He furrowed his brow, just a little puzzled over it.
"Where's your lunch, Danny?" asked Sam with a slight tilt of her head.
"Oh." Danny looked down at the empty table space in front of him. "I—uh—I forgot to bring lunch money today."
"Don't your parents usually prepay for your lunches?"
"Uh—yeah, but it's been over five weeks since I was last here, so—I mean, I think they just forgot."
"Well, here." Sam reached into her pocket. "I have money you can have."
"No, Sam, don't." Danny held out his hand to stop her. "Okay, the truth is, I'm just not hungry right now."
"Is something wrong? I mean, are you worried about something?" asked Sam with a frown.
Tucker also looked concerned, causing Danny to sigh.
"Yes, actually," said Danny. "I really want to know what the rumors about me are, what Dash and everyone else have been saying about me."
"Oh, Danny." Sam shook her head. "You don't really want to talk about this now, do you?"
"Yeah, can't we wait until we're somewhere more private and just enjoy our lunch right now?" asked Tucker.
"I can't enjoy anything until I know," said Danny. "And I don't think privacy is really going to make much of a difference at this point. Everyone here is already talking about me, so I just want to know what they're saying."
"Well, of course everyone has been talking about you," said Sam. "Your mom put up posters all over town, and we even had an assembly about you."
"An assembly?" Danny raised a brow.
"Yeah," said Sam. "It was like a week after you—well, after you disappeared. Students were starting to talk. I mean, everyone was aware that you were missing, and some were pretty worried about you."
"Teachers too," said Tucker. "Lancer led the assembly and told us how the teachers that knew you were just as concerned as the rest of us."
"Lancer?" echoed Danny. "And other teachers and students? Worried about me?"
"Well, yeah," said Sam. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Uh, yeah, kind of," said Danny. "Since most of my teachers only ever talked to me when I was late to class or failed a test or forgot to turn in my homework. And everyone else either ignored me completely or made my life hell."
"Well, okay, Dash and his meathead friends weren't really all that concerned, and the kids that didn't know you at all probably didn't care much either," said Sam. "But a lot of kids who did know you asked about you. Like we had someone asking every single day if we had heard from you."
"Yeah, like Valerie, and even Paulina asked us once," said Tucker, waggling his eyebrows.
Valerie. Paulina. Danny remembered how he usually felt very warm under the collar when thinking about them, but the mention of their names now barely fazed him at all.
"Valerie, I can see that," he said. "Paulina, I don't believe that for a second."
"It's true!" insisted Tucker. "Sam, tell him!"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it's true. She did seem to be a little worried about you." She shrugged. "But, you know, not like more so than other people who knew you better."
"A lot of people really were worried and wanted to know more about what was going on," said Tucker. "That's why they had the assembly."
"What exactly was said in this assembly?" asked Danny.
"They just wanted to reassure us that efforts were being made to locate you," said Sam. "And they also wanted to let us know why we were seeing cops on school grounds."
"Cops?"
"Yeah, they were interviewing different teachers," said Tucker. "And we were told that if we had any information about where you might be that we could tell a teacher if we weren't comfortable talking to the police."
"Of course, the only ones with useful information were us and Jazz," said Sam.
"They really wanted to interview Sam bad," said Tucker. "Just because—well, you know."
Danny nodded because yes, he did know. Sam had been the one helping him steal opioids from her mother, and the police were well aware of that.
"My mom wouldn't let me," said Sam, twirling a fork in her salad. "Which was fine with me. I hate cops. Useless bastards."
"But my mom was fine with me being interviewed," said Tucker. "And we—Sam, Jazz, and I—we all knew that your mom was aware of the secret texting app on your phone, which meant the police knew about it, too. And we knew they took your computer, which meant they definitely knew a lot of files had been deleted even if they couldn't find them."
"The ghost logs and data files, right," said Danny. "You were somehow able to delete those remotely and made sure they were completely gone, unable to be retrieved."
"Somehow? Accessing a computer from a remote location is easy as piss, my dude," said Tucker. "Even you could learn to do it."
Danny shrugged and mustered a smile but had no quip to shoot back.
"But anyway, the police were suspicious about the deleted files, so we decided I should talk to the police to throw them off that trail." Tucker grinned. "I told the detective I deleted lots and lots of porn for you."
"Ah." Danny groaned. "Thanks, buddy."
"You're so welcome." Tucker chuckled. "I told him you just really didn't want your mom to find it."
Danny's heart chilled. "My mom?"
"Yeah. I said that you really try to avoid making your mom mad or disappointing her in any way and that you were really paranoid about her finding porn on your computer. I mean, that would make any mom blow her top, but I tried to emphasize that you really didn't want to make things worse for yourself."
"Worse for myself?"
"Yeah, you know. Um…" Tucker lowered his voice. "Just the whole thing with getting caught sneaking out in the middle of the night to go to Sam's place and the…the painkiller thing."
Danny folded his arms in an attempt to still his shaky nerves. "You told him that?"
"Yeah," said Tucker. "I mean, I had to say something to make him believe that you would go to such extremes and get an experienced techie to delete just porn. I didn't want him thinking it was illegal porn or anything."
"Or ghost data," said Sam.
"Yeah, that too," said Tucker. "That especially."
"Did you say anything else about her?" asked Danny.
Tucker furrowed his brow.
"My mom," said Danny. "Did you tell the detective anything else about her?"
"Uh…" Tucker pressed his lips in thought. "I said that she had been watching you like a hawk lately ever since she caught you sneaking out that one night, and because of that, you were feeling like you couldn't slip up around her even once. I think how I worded it was that you felt like she—"
"—is obsessed with me?"
Tucker blinked, looking too stunned to answer right away. "Uh, yeah, I might've worded it like that," he said eventually.
Danny fumed, his nostrils flaring. God damn it, this meant the detective really wasn't lying.
"Is something wrong, Danny?" asked Sam.
Danny looked back and forth between Sam and Tucker a couple times. His jaw ached as he clenched his teeth.
"Fine, everything's fine," said Danny, his tone edged with irritation he couldn't control. "But what else did you tell him?"
"Hey, don't worry," said Tucker. "I didn't tell him about you being a ghost or anything like that. Your secret is still safe." He paused. "Although we did debate whether we should tell anyone or not."
"Tell who? My parents? The cops?" Danny's tone became snappish. "Why would you ever debate that? Of course you shouldn't tell anyone."
"We know that," said Sam. "Normally. But this wasn't a normal situation. We had no idea where you were, Danny. For weeks."
"Yeah, I mean, we weren't too worried the first day or two," said Tucker. "We thought you just ran away and that you'd come home when you cooled off."
"That's exactly right," said Danny. "That's exactly what I did."
"But for a month, Danny?" asked Sam.
"It wasn't a month," said Danny.
"It was over three weeks," said Sam. "But even after just a few days, we started getting scared."
"We even went to Vlad to see if he knew anything about where you were," said Tucker.
"I really thought he was behind it somehow." Sam narrowed her eyes. "I mean, he's kidnapped you before. You can't trust that creep."
Danny recalled the sound of Vlad's retreating footsteps as he left Danny to die in the lab. The detective's strange smile as his eyes glowed red.
"No, you really can't," murmured Danny.
"And then when we determined it wasn't Vlad, we started wondering if you had been captured by Skulker or the Guys in White or…" Sam paused. "Someone else."
Danny quirked a brow. "Someone else like who?"
Sam and Tucker glanced at each other but said nothing.
"What kind of rumors have you been hearing?" demanded Danny.
He stared at them, and they stared back. No movement, no words. Several long moments. The normal cafeteria chatter seemed to deaden all around them.
"I can tell you that," said Dash, plopping down on the bench next to Danny. "I've been hearing a lot about you, Fenturd."
Danny studied Dash's smug face, his neatly combed hair and that taunting grin Danny still knew all too well even after weeks of not seeing it at all. In the past, Dash ambushing him like this might've made him uneasy, but he had experienced so much worse now, far worse.
"What do you want, Dash?" barked Sam.
"You still let your girlfriend talk for you, huh?" said Dash with a sneer, never even glancing at Sam.
"What do you want, Dash?" asked Danny more quietly, seriously.
"I just haven't seen you in weeks, Fentnerd," said Dash. "It's been a lot less fun without you around. Other nerds don't fit in their lockers as well as you do."
"Dash, get out of here." Sam snapped her fingers and pointed. "Go back to your table."
"But I heard Fenton ask you two a question, a question you don't seem to want to answer." Dash rested his elbow on the table and turned his body toward Danny. "But I can tell you all about the rumors flying around, Fenton. Or should I call you Fentanyl?"
Danny pouted, his brows lowering.
"Yeah, we all know you're a druggie," said Dash. "Your girlfriend's mom told the media all about how you stole her prescription painkillers."
Sam's face glowed red as she looked down and chewed her bottom lip. Danny felt anger boiling his blood, but he knew he couldn't be mad at Sam. Of course Pam Manson still hated him and took the perfect opportunity to make him look bad. She wasn't about to just let everyone think her sweet perfect Sammykins would actually steal the narcotics from her own mother and give them to a boy, no. Pam had to make it known that Danny was just a drugged-up thieving hoodlum and her daughter was certainly not a drug dealer.
"So do you prefer lighting up or snorting, Fentanyl?" asked Dash.
"That's not clever or funny, Dash," said Sam, looking up again and narrowing her eyes.
"Well, thankfully, you nerds aren't the ones I'm trying to make laugh," said Dash, meeting her glare with a sparkle in his eye.
Sam gripped her bottle of kombucha, looking ready to throw it in Dash's face.
"Sam, don't," said Danny, holding his hand out to stop her.
Sam scrunched her mouth but relaxed her hold on her kombucha. Tucker wasn't even eating anymore, his glasses slipping down his nose as he simply watched.
"But your little drug problem wasn't huge news to anyone," said Dash. "I mean, everyone steals meds from their parents, that's no big deal." Dash leaned in closer. "I've even got some buddies that could hook you up if you want."
Danny's neck sweated as he remembered the last narcotic pain pill his mom refused to let him take. Because God it still sounded so good and he wondered what Dash's "buddies" might be able to offer instead.
"Dash, what is literally wrong with you?" snapped Sam.
"Calm down, Emily Strange," Dash bit back before returning his attention to Danny. "Actually, the A-List sent me over here to ask you the big question on everyone's mind."
Dash gestured to the A-List table across the cafeteria. Danny could see Kwan, Paulina, Star, and a couple other jocks and cheerleaders staring at him, waiting for something to happen.
"Was it really your mom?"
A spike of adrenaline. Danny turned back to Dash with wide eyes.
"Did she tie you up somewhere?" Dash spoke rapidly, grinning, every movement of his tongue exaggerated and obvious. "And then what did she do to you? I mean, your mom's like the hottest MILF in town; you can't blame us for wanting details."
Sam's jaw dropped as she clutched the front of her shirt. "Dash—"
"The police interrogated her, didn't they?" Dash continued. "It was in the news. And your mom may be hot but she's batshit crazy, too. We've all seen the way she goes off on ghosts."
"I'm not a ghost," insisted Danny without thinking. He swallowed but his panic was rising up up up—
"But you were gone for like a month," said Dash. "They say it's almost always a parent when a kid goes missing. So was it your mom?"
Oh God oh God oh God oh God—
This was EXACTLY what he was trying to avoid!
Hey guys, friends, classmates, peers, what do you think Danny's hot crazy mom did to him? Do you think he deserved it? Do you think he wanted it? Do you think he begged for it over and over and over—
NO he didn't want ANY of it just drop it let it die—
He was supposed to die! He was ready for her to kill him.
Why didn't she just kill him?
Do you think he enjoyed it?
"No," said Danny, staring past Dash.
Dash clicked his tongue and lowered his voice to just above a murmur, moving his face close to Danny's. "Come on. Fenton, Danny, buddy, you can tell me. It was your psycho mom, right?"
"No, Dash," said Danny more loudly, leaning away from him and scowling.
Dash huffed. "So, what? You really just ran away?"
"Yes. I really did. That's it."
"Then what were you running from?" asked Dash. "Or who? Me? Someone else?"
Dash's grin was back. Danny narrowed his eyes.
"Would it make you happy if it were you?" asked Danny. "Is that what you want me to say, that you were so good at bullying me that I ran to get away from you? Is that what you want the police to think, Dash?"
Dash's grin vanished, his face paling as his eyes darted around the cafeteria. Several students at nearby tables were eavesdropping, not even being subtle about it.
Dash scoffed and stood. "Whatever. I'm sure the truth will come out eventually." He rapped his knuckles on the table a couple times. "Later, nerds."
He threw his shoulders back as he walked toward the A-List table. Danny watched him reunite with the other popular kids, who fired off inaudible questions.
"Yeah, so Dash is still a dick," said Tucker apologetically. "But most people here really were worried about you, dude."
"Don't let Dash get to you, Danny." Sam waved a dismissive hand in Dash's direction. "And listen, the rumors about your mom—I mean, really, they're nothing, just speculation. The media just likes sensational headlines and clickbait, you know?"
"But you've both heard the rumors, too?" asked Danny.
Sam and Tucker looked at each other, appearing uneasy.
Danny's attention returned to the A-List. Dash was laughing about something, and the others quickly joined in, their mouths stretched wide.
On the edge of his vision, he could see Tucker staring at him. Danny turned to him.
"What?" he asked.
Tucker recoiled, looking almost guilty. "Sorry, it's just…" He squinted, studying Danny closely. "Are you wearing contacts?"
Danny shrank back, lowering his eyes, saying nothing.
In his final class of the day, Lancer was quick to get up from his desk when Danny walked through the door.
"Danny!" Lancer sounded so cheerful that Danny might not have recognized his voice if his lips weren't also moving. "It's so good to see you again."
Danny froze, in place, in time. Students filed in behind him, around him, greeting him or ignoring him or whispering about him, he couldn't be sure.
He looked around the room. Dash was sitting at the back of the classroom and shot Danny a quick smirk before resuming his conversation with Kwan. A couple students openly stared at him, curious, mouths drawn into inquisitive pouts.
Concern? Amusement? Pity?
Were they all wondering what his mother did to him?
Danny turned back to Lancer, who was smiling and letting him know that there was still plenty of time to get all caught up before the end of the year, don't worry, and oh how good it was to have him back in class.
But Danny couldn't help trying to read between the lines, what Lancer was really thinking, how he really felt about seeing Danny again, if the days of being called "Mr. Fenton" were gone because adults always called other adults by their first names and Lancer could sense that Danny was no longer a child.
