Author's note: I got it bad; you don't know how bad I got it. You got it easy; you don't know when you've got it good.
It's getting harder just keeping life and soul together. I'm sick of fighting even though I know I should.
The cold is biting through each and every nerve and fiber. My broken spirit is frozen to the core.
I don't wanna be here no more. - Nik Kershaw
Disillusioned
I'm terrified
…
The sun hadn't set just yet but it was already chilly. Danny was glad for the excuse to continue wearing long sleeves because he still had no idea how he was going to explain the scars on his arms.
He sat in the bleachers next to the Casper High football field with the rest of his family. The noise from all the excited spectators was almost deafening, a buzz of high-pitched chatter and obnoxious laughter.
Maddie placed a hand on his back and rubbed it, massaging her palm against his shoulder blades. Danny let her. Because he was in public and he couldn't let anyone see him coldly shrug her off. He couldn't raise any suspicion that there was something sinister going on between the two of them.
He just wished she hadn't insisted on sitting next to him.
Out on the football field, all the graduating seniors sat in chairs facing a large makeshift stage. They talked and laughed with each other as they waited for the ceremony to begin, wearing their red graduation gowns and square caps with the tassels on the right side. Ishiyama, Lancer, and a couple other faculty members were on the stage, preparing the podium and making last-minute changes. Ishiyama and Lancer were also dressed in gowns, along with academic hoods that wrapped around the front of their necks and draped down their backs.
Jazz was sitting on the stage next to the student body president, the senior class president, and the salutatorian. Jazz's posture was straight and poised, her shiny red hair tumbling in soft curls from under her cap and over the prestigious white stole worn on her shoulders. Danny could not see her face clearly from this distance, but he could imagine her smile, practiced and perfect.
Just like his.
Behind him, Sam and Tucker were sitting by themselves a few rows up. Danny had tried to pretend he didn't see them at all when he and his family first arrived, but he could feel their eyes boring into his back now, even through his mother's hand sliding up and down his spine. They hadn't even bothered texting to ask if they could come with him and his family, but of course they would show up. Jazz was their friend, and the three of them had probably bonded quite a bit when Danny was missing.
Danny was sure they had regular secret meetings behind his back, secret text conversations devoted solely to figuring out just what the hell was wrong with him.
What the hell is wrong with you?
Tucker's question kept snapping in his brain, over and over, but Danny had no idea how to answer.
Principal Ishiyama approached the microphone at the podium on stage and began addressing everyone to begin the ceremony, her voice crackling and echoing over the speakers. Danny barely heard anything she said as he watched each senior on the field. He wondered what they were all thinking about. Excitement for the future?
Danny couldn't imagine his own future anymore, couldn't even picture himself reaching his own graduation day. It didn't seem like something that could ever be real, like his life couldn't possibly go on for that long.
Did he even want it to?
Another two years of what, this? Whatever this was?
His mother's nails raked his back.
Was this what he wanted?
The sudden sound of Lancer's voice booming over the speakers made Danny jump. Maddie's eyes widened slightly as she turned her face to him, but Danny shook his head and did not look at her.
"It is my pleasure to announce that the Casper High School students who sit before you have met all the requirements set forth by the Amity Park Unified School District to participate in this ceremony," said Lancer. The bright lights surrounding the stage made his bald pate shine. "And now, I ask our seniors to come forward to accept all the honors that they've earned as graduates."
He paused, looked down at his notes, then raised his head again. "We will begin by reading the names of Casper High's top ten students for this graduating year."
Everyone hushed as Lancer stepped away from the podium and stood at the center of the stage with Ishiyama. Jazz was now standing off to the side of the stage in a line of other students who had also achieved high academic excellence. A teacher wearing a red and white suit and holding a sheet of paper approached the podium.
"Jasmine Elizabeth Fenton," said the teacher.
Danny's family burst into wild applause and cheers, many of them jumping to their feet as Jazz walked onto the stage and took a red folder from a teacher wearing a dark suit. She then shook hands with both Lancer and Ishiyama, all three turning to pose as a photographer standing just below the front of the stage snapped their picture. Jazz stood in the center, taller than Ishiyama but shorter than Lancer. Her smile was dazzling, her cheeks flushed with rosy color.
She then walked off the stage and looked up at the bleachers. Many in the family waved, but Danny could almost swear Jazz was looking right at him.
More students marched on stage, taking red folders and shaking hands and smiling, smiling, smiling. Danny tuned out as the succession continued in a blur, different areas of the bleachers breaking into applause as each name was read.
He only came to when he heard Jazz's voice. But her voice did not make him jump like Lancer's did. No, Jazz's voice stilled him, smoothed his frayed nerves with its bright but gentle tone.
The sun dipped low as Jazz stood at the podium and began her valediction. The sky purpled, blazing orange and white at the horizon.
"Honorable guests and attendees," said Jazz, "esteemed faculty, proud parents, supportive families, cherished friends…"
She looked up at the bleachers. And again, Danny was sure she was looking at him.
"And my fellow graduates." Jazz breathed in. "Here we all are, surrounded by the echoes of our journeys, standing on the precipice of the future—a future that is as bright as stardust woven into constellations."
Danny reflexively looked up at the night sky, at all the stars popping out in their familiar patterns that Danny still recognized even though he hadn't done any stargazing for two months now.
The stars were the same, exactly the same, no change at all.
It should've been comforting but it only made him want to cry.
He closed his eyes and lowered his head. Maddie started rubbing his back again.
Jazz continued, speaking of gratitude and nostalgia and bittersweet anticipation. Struggles with locker combinations and lost souls roaming the halls. Clutching newly printed schedules like ancient scrolls. Legacies stamped in transcripts. Friendships formed and lessons learned. Realizing that life was not a multiple-choice test but an open-ended essay that could be drafted and edited unlimited times. Becoming the authors of destiny.
High above, more and more stars shimmered into view as the sun dropped away.
"It is now our turn to create our own constellations," said Jazz. "May our paths diverge but our bonds remain unbreakable."
She moved her tassel from the right side of her cap to the left. All the seniors on the field did the same. Lancer then picked up a microphone and congratulated the entire class. Applause and cheers erupted as the seniors threw their caps high into the air. Triumphant music started blasting from the loudspeakers, but everyone turned once the first firework flared up and exploded behind the bleachers.
Danny forced himself to watch the fireworks just like everyone else, but the sparkling fire and fizzling colors quickly became dull. Each pop! was painful as it reverberated in his chest, the smell of gunpowder burning in his nose.
When the show finally ended, everyone clapped and cheered. The thick smoke from all the fireworks blotted out many of the stars. Danny rubbed his arms as he lowered his head, already feeling muscle strain in his neck.
He followed the crowd off the bleachers and onto the field to mingle with all of the seniors. Everyone in Danny's family congratulated Jazz, grandmothers and aunts kissing her, grandfathers and uncles squeezing her in tight hugs. Danny hung back as he watched Jazz greet everyone in turn, her cheeks stretching as she smiled and said thanks dozens of times.
Maddie stood beside him, looking at Jazz but Danny could sense that her focus was on him, that she was paying very close attention to him.
But Danny wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend to smile.
Alicia struck up a conversation with Maddie just then, something about what kind of housing she and Jack were going to find for Jazz when she left for college at the end of the summer. Danny took the opportunity to back away. Maddie tensed but was unable to stop him as she continued speaking with Alicia.
Danny headed for the bleachers, which were now mostly empty as everyone gathered on the field. Upbeat music continued to play from the speakers, adding a nauseating layer to the cacophony of chatter and laughter. Danny leaned against one of the railings lining the bleachers and looked up at the sky, at the thinning smoke from the fireworks. But although he longed to go home, he had no desire to do so by soaring beneath the stars.
Strange. He used to love flying, but he couldn't remember why.
"Danny!"
Danny furrowed his brow as he turned toward the voice. Jazz ran up and threw her arms around him. Danny blinked and stiffened in her tight embrace. After a couple moments of not moving, he remembered that he was supposed to return the hug. He wrapped his arms around her, awkward and gangling, but he did not squeeze.
"Why are you way over here?" asked Jazz, still hugging him. "Didn't you want to say hi to me?"
Danny looked over her shoulder. He could see Maddie and Jack in the center of the field with the rest of the family. They were both looking in his direction, frowning.
"It was just crowded," said Danny. "I figured I'd let everyone else say hi to you first. I get to see you all the time, after all."
"For now," said Jazz. "But that will change, you know."
She pulled out of the hug but kept her hands on his upper arms. Danny tried to hide his discomfort as he forced himself to make eye contact.
"I've been thinking back on when we were younger lately," said Jazz softly. "Even just a couple years ago, how much has changed between us." She paused. "I wasn't always very nice to you."
Danny kept a straight face but he knew exactly what Jazz was talking about. The snarky quips she used to make when he said or did something she thought was stupid. The snide comments about his clumsiness and how unappealing he was to girls. Point-blank telling him that their parents saw so much potential in Jazz and almost none in Danny.
Yes, he certainly remembered a time when Jazz didn't seem to think very much of him at all.
"I didn't even like driving you to school when I first got my license," said Jazz. "We didn't have much in common, and I guess I just…never understood you." She sucked her lip. "Even with all the psychology books I was reading, I just couldn't find a way to actually relate to you."
Danny lowered his eyes, not at all sure why she was telling him all this. Not at all sure if he wanted her to keep going.
"But then I saw just how much you were carrying on your shoulders." Jazz's hands moved up his arms a little. "How much you were suffering even as you tried your best to hide it. And I realized just how incredible you are, all the greatness you had inside you that I was too blind and"—her mouth puckered sheepishly—"frankly, too stuck-up to see before."
Danny's heart knotted up. He knew she was saying something nice about him and yet it didn't actually feel good to hear it. Why didn't it feel good?
"And now when I think about living so far away from you when I leave for college…it hurts." Jazz clutched at the front of her gown with one hand. "Graduating's made me realize just how real it is. You'll be here and I'll be there. And sure, I'll visit, but you and I will probably never live in the same house again."
Her words hit hard. Danny's knotted heart twisted and sank.
He was about to be alone with his parents, alone with his mother. Jazz would no longer be there to shield him, to give him an excuse to break away, to defend him when he was acting in ways he couldn't explain.
So many nights he lay awake in bed, shaken from a bad dream, staring at his door, imagining his mother coming in and yanking him up by the arm, pushing an ecto-gun into his back as she forced him out into the hall and down the stairs into the lab.
But Jazz would never let that happen. Jazz would definitely hear it and would block the way past her bedroom.
That was the only reason he could allow himself to fall asleep again, the only way he could calm his sick paranoia.
With Jazz gone, would he ever be able to sleep again?
Danny started trembling, could feel the unease rippling in his arms and legs, prickling at his lips. He sucked in a deep breath, straining to keep back the tears.
"Danny?" Jazz leaned in closer to his face. "What's wrong?"
Danny jerked his head to shake out the bad thoughts. "Nothing. Just… I'm going to miss you, too."
"Are you sure there's nothing more than that?" Jazz grasped his fingers in both hands, gently caressing his knuckles.
Danny opened his mouth to answer, to lie, but stopped when he saw Sam and Tucker standing a few feet behind Jazz. Danny stepped back, and Jazz turned around.
"Sam! Tucker!" Jazz grinned and held out her arms as she approached them. "I'm so glad you came!"
She draped one arm over Sam's shoulder and the other over Tucker's, drawing them in close so their heads touched. Danny watched as the three of them chatted and laughed, Sam and Tucker congratulating Jazz and Jazz thanking them.
And then Sam's eyes locked onto Danny, and Danny immediately ducked his head and walked away, out of sight under the bleachers.
He looked out at the brightly lit field from underneath the tiered benches. He knew he couldn't hide here forever—Maddie would not approve of it, would reprimand him for once again shutting everyone out and raising more red flags—but he just needed a break, a chance to breathe and not pretend that he was fine for just a moment.
Someone else appeared under the bleachers. Danny instantly recognized the blond hair, beefy build, and letterman jacket.
Shit.
He started walking in the opposite direction.
"Fenton, wait." Dash ran after him. "Fenton, come on. I've been trying to talk to you all week."
Danny groaned and grudgingly turned around. Dash stopped a few feet away from him.
"What are you doing here?" asked Danny.
"I saw you come under here, so I—"
"No, I mean here, at the ceremony."
Dash ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back. "A few of my buddies on the football team graduated today."
"You came to support some friends?" clarified Danny.
Dash's hand moved down the back of his head. "Yeah. Well, but I also knew you'd be here, your sister being valedictorian and all." Dash looked off at the ceremony stage from under the benches. "She's as weird as the rest of your family, but damn if she isn't crazy hot."
"Dash," said Danny in warning.
"Sorry, that's not why I'm here." Dash held up both hands, palms out. "I just wanted to ask you something."
Danny folded his arms. "I'm listening."
"They, uh—the cops, I mean." Dash rubbed his neck. "They don't think I had anything to do with why you ran away, right?"
Danny raised a brow.
Dash pinched above his collarbone. "Well, it's just—the first time they talked to me—back when you were missing—I wasn't too surprised. It seemed like standard procedure. They talked to a bunch of us at school, not just me. Asked questions about you, where we think you might've run off to, stuff like that." Dash paused. "They asked me about my relationship with you. They brought up that other people mentioned me being your bully."
Danny chewed the inside of his cheek.
"And I didn't deny it or anything." Dash gripped the front of his letterman jacket. "But I told them I hadn't really talked to you much in the days before you ran away. Which is true, isn't it, Fenton? I didn't harass you or say anything to you that week, right?"
Danny thought back to the week in question, his time at school right before his own mother chased him down and abducted him. He could not recall any meaningful interactions with Dash.
"Right," confirmed Danny.
Dash looked relieved. "Thankfully, the cops didn't grill me too hard on it. And then they never talked to me again, and then you came back, so I figured that was the end of it."
"Was it not?" asked Danny, feeling uneasy.
"No, they talked to me again earlier this week," said Dash. "They were waiting for me near the football field on Tuesday after finals."
"Who was waiting for you?" asked Danny.
"The cops," articulated Dash, almost irritably.
"The same cops that talked to you the first time?" asked Danny impatiently. "Was one of them Detective Calhoun?"
Dash's mouth scrunched in thought. "That was the name of the cop who talked to me the first time. No, these were definitely different guys."
Danny's eyes narrowed as he tried to think of any other cops he remembered seeing at the police station. Was this some new tactic the detective was trying? Getting other cops to interview people who might know something about his disappearance, see if they could gather some new evidence from a fresh perspective?
"What did they look like?" Danny finally asked when he came up empty.
"I'm not good at explaining faces," said Dash, his eyes darting upward before focusing on Danny again. "But they were wearing white suits, like all white. Hard to forget something like that."
Blood drained from Danny's face and pooled in his gut, sinking his insides.
"White suits?" repeated Danny, his voice hoarse.
"Yeah," said Dash with a nod. "Oh, and sunglasses."
Danny could only stare at Dash, at the strip of light coming from between the benches that fell across his face. The music playing from the speakers on the field grew distant, distorted.
"And look, Fenton." Dash made a sound that was something between a groan and a sigh. "I know I've been giving you a hard time since the start of freshman year, but I'm not the reason you ran away, am I? I mean, did you tell the cops I was bullying you?" Dash began speaking more quickly, his voice rising in pitch. "Because I can't get kicked off the football team, Fenton. I've got nothing else going for me. I can't have this ruining my shot at getting a scholarship or impressing recruiters."
"What exactly did they say to you?" asked Danny, coming out more like a demand as he pushed strength into his voice.
"The cops in the white suits? They just asked me how I knew you," said Dash. "Your hobbies, your interests, who you hang out with, if I ever noticed anything weird about you. They also asked me if I knew anything about your family, your mom." Dash shrugged. "But they mostly just asked me questions about you."
Danny's lungs seized. Painful adrenaline rushed in twisting ripples under his skin.
"They asked about me?" Danny jabbed a couple fingers into his chest. "Me? As in Danny Fenton, me?"
Dash looked at him warily. "Yeah? What other you is there?"
Danny's stomach flooded with dizzy dread. He remembered his conversations with Theia about the Guys in White the week before. Her words, or were they warnings?
They've been especially aggressive since you went missing.
Yes, you. Of course you. You're their ultimate prize.
They will never stop looking for you.
But she had been talking about Danny Phantom, so why were the Guys in White asking his classmates about Danny Fenton?
He knew the answer. Perhaps he had known it for a while now, all those times he had caught glimpses of white vans around the school, white suits ducking behind trees in parking lots. Following him.
Stalking him?
"What…" Danny tried to swallow, tried to get some saliva back into his dry mouth. "What did you tell them?"
"I told them the truth," said Dash, not apologetically. "I told them I didn't actually know you all that well, but I knew you liked geeky stuff like space and comic books." He stuck out his bottom lip. "I think, right? I've seen stuff like that in your locker."
"That's really all you said?" asked Danny, trying not to sound too panicked.
"What more is there to say?" asked Dash. "Apart from your freakazoid parents being obsessed with ghosts."
Danny tried to breathe in, his chest shuddering with the effort.
"I told them I wasn't sure if you also had an interest in ghosts," Dash went on. "But I remember that one time when those ghosts took our parents and you seemed to know exactly what you were doing when you got us onto that pirate ship and helped us fight them off. I told them you were surprisingly good at fighting ghosts; I never would've guessed it considering how scrawny you are."
Danny almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. Really, Dash? He told the Guys in White he was good at fighting ghosts, really?
"Did they talk to anyone else?" asked Danny.
"Uh—I don't think so," said Dash. "I mean, I don't think they talked to any of my friends, at least. No one in the A-List or on the football team has mentioned it." Dash paused to think. "But I did see them walking out of the principal's office on Monday after school. I just figured they were new security guards or something. But I guess not."
Danny thought back to his conversations with Ishiyama and Lancer that week. They had both stopped him just to talk to him. They both asked if they could help him with anything, more pleading than simply polite. They both seemed nervous, as if they definitely wanted to say more but were uncertain if they should.
Exactly what had the Guys in White said to them?
"Have you told anyone about this yet?" asked Danny.
"Um…" Dash scratched behind his ear as his gaze dropped to the ground. "No, I've been kind of afraid to, honestly. I'm just…kind of freaked out that the cops think I had something to do with you running away, and I don't want my coach to find out." He puffed out his cheeks. "I just know he'd kick me off the team."
Dash shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still scratching behind his ear, the back of his head, his hand traveling down his neck and rubbing under his jaw. Danny stared at him, almost in awe that Dash's biggest concern in his day-to-day life was just whether or not he'd be able to play football in college.
How nice it must've been to be Dash.
God, he wished he could be Dash.
"You're going to be fine," said Danny with all the calm he could muster. "This isn't going to get you kicked off the football team." He swallowed. "You're going to be okay."
Dash tilted his head. "Are you going to be okay?"
Danny blew out a harsh breath, not meeting Dash's gaze as tears pricked his eyes.
"I don't know," he said truthfully.
Dash's brow creased. "Fenton."
Danny shook his head. "I need you to promise that you are not going to tell anyone about this. Not your A-List friends, not your football buddies, not any teachers or your parents, nobody." He locked eyes with Dash and tried to sound strong, but he couldn't keep his voice from breaking. "I really need this from you, Dash."
Dash held up his hands and spread out his palms. "All right, I won't tell anyone, I promise." He lowered his hands, sucking in his lips before adding, "As long as you promise not to say anything to the cops about me."
Danny's eyelids fluttered, barely hiding an eye roll. "Yeah, sure, I promise," he said in a tight whisper.
Dash's head dropped to one side as he squinted and stared at Danny hard. "Fenton, what is really going on here?"
Danny's breath caught in his throat. He pushed it out, fast, then sucked in a long gulp of air as he tried to hold Dash's gaze.
His fingers started tingling, shooting up into his knuckles.
Damn it, damn it—
His knees threatened to buckle, his head started to pound. Danny grabbed at one of the angled steel beams supporting the bleachers, clawing at it as he struggled to hold on and keep himself up. His hands crawled with sharp pain that started needling into his wrists.
"You're not going to pass out on me, are you?"
Danny pressed his shoulder against the beam and looked at Dash. Dash's eyes were wide under his furrowed brow.
"Because I gotta be honest," continued Dash, "I really don't know what I'd do if you did."
Danny closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. In, deep, out, deep. Even and slow, again and again. Feeling gradually returned to his hands as the tingling subsided. He let go of the beam and was relieved to find he could stand on his own, but the pain in his head still remained, thumping at his temples, throbbing behind his eyes.
Dash was staring at him. Danny stared back, his headache blurring his vision. He remembered what Dash said to him in the cafeteria when Danny first returned to school. Did Dash really have friends who could hook him up with some narcotics?
An itch niggled at Danny's brain as he very seriously debated asking Dash to please, tell him more about these friends.
But instead, he turned away. "I have to go."
He broke into a brisk walk, ducking under angled support beams as he left Dash behind under the bleachers. Dash did not call after him, and Danny did not look back.
Out on the football field, families and seniors were still gathered together, but the density of the crowd was shifting toward the parking lot. Danny could see Sam and Tucker standing with Jazz as she introduced them to members of their family. Maddie was speaking to her parents but turned as Danny approached.
"Danny, there you are!" Maddie sounded relieved. "We were just talking about heading back. Are you ready to go?"
Danny nodded and forced his lips to spread into a smile, hoping that would be enough of a response. He wrung one wrist behind his back, his nails digging into his skin.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ishiyama and Lancer having a conversation on the ceremony stage. He was afraid to look at them, afraid to find them looking right back at him.
The family started walking toward the parking lot. Jazz hugged Sam and Tucker goodbye. Danny pretended he didn't see them at all, and thankfully, they didn't even try to talk to him. They simply waved and disappeared into the shuffling crowd.
"You're not going to party with the other grads tonight?" asked Alicia, gesturing to all the seniors who were heading for the nearby gymnasium. The gym doors were propped open, and the party inside was already in full swing with colorful strobing lights and blaring pop music.
"Nah," said Jazz, removing her cap and fluffing up her red curls against her scalp. "Parties have never been my thing. I didn't even go to prom."
A memory of Jazz's unused prom dress hanging in her closet. Danny felt a pang of guilt stab his chest, a nauseous mix with the panic gnarling his insides and the pain drumming in his head.
"Besides, I'd rather party with my family!" Jazz giggled.
Alicia blew out a breath that flapped her lips. "Not much of a party when your house has no booze at all."
Jack cleared his throat and kept his eyes straight ahead as he continued walking.
The school parking lot was packed with cars trying to file out through the only exit. Danny trembled as he looked at each car closely, startling every time he glimpsed shiny white paint catching the bright artificial light streaming from the lamps surrounding the lot. But when he saw it was just a white Nissan Armada or Hyundai Tucson, he pushed a breath out of his aching lungs, not even realizing he had been holding it.
A cold gust blew through the lot, ruffling his sleeves. Danny rubbed his arms and clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering.
When they made it to the parked GAV, he was only too eager to hop inside. Desperate, even. No embarrassment this time. No, this time, the GAV seemed like the absolute safest place in the world to be.
He sat next to Jazz in the back along with their preteen cousins, who just couldn't get enough of the GAV's strange gadgets, all rendered useless by the switch Jack had flipped to shut off power to the rear controls. The kids pressed buttons and slammed levers, whining about how nothing was happening.
Danny crossed his arms and pinned his shaking hands against his waist with his elbows. The GAV lurched with Jack's ever-erratic driving, and he tried to hold back the sick rising in his throat. His heels bounced, and he pushed them hard against the floor to keep them still.
"Are you okay?" asked Jazz. Her voice was low, barely audible above the shrieking and cackling of their cousins.
Danny put on his best smile. "Just cold."
He shivered and rubbed his arms, exaggerated motions, hoping she'd buy the lie. Jazz furrowed her brow and seemed to be studying him very hard.
But then she relaxed and sat back in her seat, clutching at the loose sleeves of her graduation gown and pulling them tighter around her arms.
"It is kind of a cold night, huh?" She looked out the window, at the orange street lights rushing past. "I hate when the weather can't make up its mind about whether it's spring or still winter."
Danny nodded, not in agreement but because he had no idea what to say. He caught Maddie staring at him from the front passenger seat, her neck craning. She was quick to turn forward when he met her gaze.
When the GAV pulled up into its usual spot behind Fenton Works and Jazz opened the rear door, it took all of Danny's effort not to break into a run for the house. He glanced at the street, looking for any white vans parked by the curb, but all he could see were the headlights of cars belonging to his family as they arrived.
His parents, sister, and cousins walked toward the house, and Danny forced himself to keep pace with them instead of charging ahead. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to focus on his breathing as the wind nipped at his ears and pain clenched in his skull.
Once Jack unlocked the back door and ushered everyone through, Danny sighed and took his hands out of his pockets as he entered the kitchen. But the relief did not last long as he remembered that the Guys in White knew exactly where he lived and he wasn't actually safe here at all. All the shields and weapons and safety measures built into the house were designed to protect them from ghosts, not humans.
Danny had never in his life thought that he would actually be more afraid of humans than ghosts.
The sound of the front door opening made Danny jump. But then he heard Maddie's voice singing in greeting as familiar voices belonging to his family answered her. Her voice started moving, getting closer and closer to the kitchen.
Danny panted and swallowed, struggling against his dry mouth. He pressed a hand over his racing heart and pulled in a long breath. He could see Jack and Jazz frowning at him, deep concern in their eyes.
"Who's ready for cake and ice cream?" asked Maddie as she strolled into the kitchen.
His cousins squealed with delight. Danny's stomach flipped while his scalp tingled with cold pinpricks.
Maddie caught his eye as she walked past him toward the refrigerator and frowned at him, just as Jack and Jazz were still frowning. Danny snapped into a power walk and left the kitchen, dropping onto the couch in the living room, wishing he could just go up to his room and hide under his covers or maybe even under his bed or in his closet but no no no he had to stay here with his family because he had to act normal, had to act like he was a completely ordinary teenage boy and not a ghost hybrid that a merciless government organization wanted to lock up and strip bare and slice open until all of his secrets spilled out of him.
No red flags.
The living room quickly became crowded as his family filled up the remaining seats on the couch, a few adults sitting in folding chairs while his cousins sat on the floor around the coffee table. Everyone held disposable plastic bowls of red velvet cake topped with ice cream. His cousins were already halfway done, their pink mouths ringed with chocolate syrup.
Maddie's parents sat next to him and tried to engage him in conversation. His aunts sat on the other side in chairs and tried to jostle him to say something, tell them all about just how proud he was of his sister and whether he was planning on being valedictorian as well. Danny attempted to control his shivering and smiled weakly at the joke, because it was so obviously a joke. Not a single person in this goddamn room believed he could graduate with any kind of honors, if they even believed he could graduate at all.
And maybe they were right. Maybe the Guys in White would see to it that he never got his diploma.
"Here, Danny," said Maddie, standing above him and holding out a bowl for him to take.
Danny's insides squeezed at the sight of the gluey ice cream and crumbly cake that he was sure would sit in his stomach like a brick.
"No thanks," he mumbled, shaking his head.
Maddie pushed the bowl into his face. "Are you sure you don't want any?" she asked through tight teeth.
Danny caught on immediately, got her hint. He could see his grandparents watching him with furrowed brows and he knew exactly what he had to do.
Danny took the bowl and muttered his thanks. But he couldn't bring himself to look Maddie in the eyes again and kept his head down until she walked away. He forced a few bites of cake covered with ice cream into his mouth, just a few, enough to make his grandparents look away and talk about something that had nothing to do with him.
"Shall we let Jazz open her presents now?" asked Maddie.
A big cheer went up, and Jack and Maddie began placing wrapped gifts on the coffee table. Danny took the opportunity to slip his unfinished dessert underneath the couch while everyone was distracted by the sparkly wrapping paper.
Jazz was quickly ushered into the sofa armchair, no longer in her graduation gown but instead a classy black dress with a teal belt cinching her waist. She gasped at the pile of presents, as if she just couldn't believe that they were all for her.
She opened each gift slowly, thoughtfully, commenting on each one. Kitchen gadgets, a hoodie and coffee mugs stamped with the Harvard logo, chic travel bags with dozens of pockets. But Danny had no idea which gift was from who, had no idea what the point of some of them were.
His headache gnawed behind his eyes, splitting his skull, and yet he could do nothing about it, couldn't just go to the medicine cabinet and pop eight hundred milligrams of ibuprofen like he used to, couldn't go up to his room and phase through his wall to grab the hydrocodone he used to stash there because it was gone, all gone, and he just had to deal with this pain with no help at all.
He tried to distract himself, tried to pay attention to his grandfather's very detailed explanation of why exactly Jazz needed a gold pen with her full name engraved on it. But Danny didn't understand, could barely understand what anyone was saying.
His thoughts kept shifting to white vans following him. Men in white suits watching him.
He wondered how they planned on taking him. Would they jump him on the streets in public? Would they wait until he was alone and corner him in a dark alley? Force him onto his knees and hold a gun to his head?
Or would they break into his house one night, drag him out of bed, cuff his hands behind his back and shove him down the stairs, bruising his skin as they held him tight?
He pressed his hands together and wedged them between his knees to keep them from shaking. But his knees were also shaking. And his chest was fluttering, his stomach churning, his neck sweating and yet he felt cold, so cold, his jaw muscles ached with the force of gnashing his teeth together so they wouldn't chatter.
He could see the front door from where he sat on the couch. Anyone looking at him probably would've thought he was just watching Jazz like everyone else, but he was really looking over her shoulder and watching the door, knowing it was unlocked. The Guys in White wouldn't even have to break in; they could just open the door and waltz right in.
And what would he do if they did?
He imagined them barging in, a dozen men in starchy white suits breaking the front door off its hinges, splintering the wooden frame. Maddie and Jack would spring up immediately, grabbing for weapons they always stashed in convenient places around the house. But what good would those weapons be? They were designed to pulverize ghosts, not humans. The Guys in White would almost certainly have real guns, guns that could atomize spectral beings and blow holes through mortal flesh.
He imagined other agents blasting through the windows, leaping into the house as glass shards scattered all over the carpet. And he imagined himself, struggling to transform but failing because Phantom was still too broken to come out. Or was he too scared? And what did it matter? Even if he did transform, they would be ready for him with anti-ghost shields and manacles and containment devices that he could never break out of.
He saw himself backing up until he hit the wall, right next to the door leading down to the basement lab. A man in a white suit advanced on him, eyes hidden by dark sunglasses. Danny could see his frightened reflection in the shiny lenses. The man aimed a whirring ecto-gun right in his face, ordering him to get down on his knees if he didn't want his family to be hurt.
Yes, that was right, down on the floor like a good—
The front door burst open and Danny jumped off the couch, banging his shin on the coffee table and nearly knocking over Aunt Stacy's chair as he clamped his hand on the back of it to regain his balance. He stared at the front door, wheezing and wild-eyed.
Uncle Roy stood in the doorway holding a wrapped present. Danny hadn't even realized he had left the house. Roy shut the front door behind him and walked down the hallway into the now completely silent living room. He frowned at everyone before turning his gaze on Danny and frowning even more.
Danny panted as he kept his grip on the back of Aunt Stacy's chair, his hand clammy with sweat that made the metal slippery. His skin tingled and crawled as his racing heart pumped adrenaline through his wobbling legs, his trembling arms.
And everyone was staring at him. His grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, all gaping at him. Jack's forehead was creased with more lines than Danny had ever seen before. Jazz held a hand over her heart, eyes large.
And Maddie looked furious, her jaw tight as her deep red lips twitched and her nostrils flared.
Pain exploded in Danny's head, thudded behind his eyes.
Had to make it stop, had to—
He dashed. He sprinted. He darted, weaving through aunts in chairs and cousins on the floor, up and up the stairs, around the corner and down the hall.
what are you running away from this time?
No, not what he was running from what he was running to—
His parents' bedroom, their bathroom. It was the only place in the entire house he hadn't checked yet, the only place he had been too afraid to search because he didn't want to get caught—
—would they catch him—?
There just had to be something here—
He threw open the cabinet doors above the sink and began rifling through the items on the shelves, knocking aftershave and cologne and face oil and eye serum and retinol cream down onto the counter. He picked up the orange prescription bottles, reading each label before throwing them over his shoulder. He could hear them clattering to the floor behind him—metoprolol, levothyroxine, zolpidem—but no painkillers, none, didn't his parents ever have to deal with pain or was he seriously the only goddamn person in this house who did?
"What the hell are you doing?"
Danny froze. He slowly pulled his hand out of the cabinet and turned to face his mother. She stood in the doorway, a bright angry flush spread across her nose and cheekbones.
"Well?" Maddie stuck her hands on her hips. "You gonna tell me?"
Danny parted his lips but could not get any words out, only squeaky noises that tangled with his vocal cords.
"Danny, we talked about this." Maddie groaned. "I had to send an emergency text to Vlad; we can only hope he can get here fast enough to keep Dad from coming up. But everyone else—Danny, Vlad can't have ghosts overshadow everyone." She shook her head, sighing deeply. "We can't keep doing this kind of damage control."
Danny's lungs quaked as he tried to gulp in air, but he could not bring in enough to calm his pounding heart and spiking nerves.
Maddie's bottom lip jutted as she cocked her head to one side. "What is the matter with you?"
Danny's breath caught, his chest heaved. He tried to speak, but he didn't have the air, couldn't push the words past his closed throat.
He gripped the counter with one hand to steady himself as he forced in a breath, filled his lungs. He blew it out shakily, a few frail words coming out with it. "I can't do it again."
Maddie's brows dropped low over her eyes. "Can't do what again? What are you talking about?"
Another deep breath. "The Guys in White know who I am," he whispered.
Maddie stared at him. Not a single muscle moved in her face.
"How do you know?" she asked, her voice low.
Danny's breath caught again, loud enough to be heard this time. "Dash told me the Guys in White came up to him and they asked him about me." He pressed his fingers to his chest as tears sprang to his eyes. "Me, Mom."
Maddie said nothing. Did nothing. Simply stood there blinking.
"I can't do it again." The tears started misting Danny's vision. "I can't. I will kill myself before I let myself be a lab specimen again."
"Don't say that." Maddie moved forward and grabbed his upper arms. "Danny, I don't ever want to hear you talk like that again."
She shook him, making Danny's head flop and swim with pain and building pressure behind his eyes, more tears stinging at the corners.
He locked eyes with her, afraid to look away, afraid to say anything at all, afraid to give her another reason to yell at him.
Afraid. Yes, he was afraid.
But he didn't use to be this much of a coward.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Ever since his own mother cornered him in that dark alley, he had been living on his knees, unable to get up, to stand.
Or was he waiting for someone to give him permission to stand?
Permission from her—?
For the year and a half he had been "playing superhero," as Theia called it, all the time he had gone up against dangerous enemies, he had never before been as frightened as he was now.
Death, he could face that. Sigh into its cold and painless embrace, completely safe from anything and everything that could hurt him.
But what the Guys in White had planned for him, no, he didn't think he could ever have the courage for that.
He burst into tears, gushing streams rushing down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw, traveling down his neck. His chest convulsed and his breaths hitched but he couldn't stop, no control at all. His heart ached and he felt so heavy, so tired, so scared.
Maddie pulled him close, hugging him to her as she wrapped her arms around him, one hand pressed against his lower back, the other cradling the back of his head. Danny buried his face into her shoulder, sobbing and blubbering, his tears beading on the waterproof material of her jumpsuit and sliding down her arm, her back, her breast.
Maddie shushed him, gently stroked the back of his neck and trailed her fingers up and down his spine.
"I'm going to fix this, Danny," she murmured in his ear. "I'm going to make this go away. I will not let anyone hurt you."
Danny's tears immediately stopped. Incredulous, stunned. He pulled back out of her hold and stared at her, salty tear tracks burning his skin. She held his stare, no faltering, as if she truly found no fault with what she was promising him.
But didn't she understand just how much she had already hurt him?
Someone new stepped into the bathroom doorway. Jazz. Danny stiffened and turned away, wiping the tears off his face with several swift flicks of his fingers.
"What's going on?" asked Jazz.
She entered the bathroom, came up right behind Maddie's shoulder. She looked at the toiletries on the counter, her gaze traveling to the orange prescription bottles scattered over the floor.
"Were you looking for painkillers, Danny?" she screeched.
Maddie turned and placed her hands on Jazz's shoulders, gently pushing her back toward the doorway. "Jazz, sweetie—"
Jazz stepped to the side, shrugging her off. "I'm talking to Danny."
Danny took in a deep breath as he forced himself to meet her gaze. "Go back downstairs, Jazz."
"No," said Jazz, her fists bunching down by her sides. "Tell me what's going on."
"Nothing is going on," said Danny, trying to sound firm but his voice cracked with weakness.
"Really?" Jazz raised both eyebrows over her wide eyes as she threw out her hands in his direction, palms up. "You're just going to lie to me right now?"
Danny felt new tears pushing at the corners of his eyes, angry and hot. "It's none of your business," he spat through clenched teeth.
"Whose business is it, Danny?" asked Jazz, though she was glaring at Maddie.
Danny stomped close and spoke right in her face, harshly enunciating each word. "Not. Yours."
He shoved between Jazz and Maddie, out of the bathroom and his parents' bedroom and into the hallway. He could hear Jazz and Maddie arguing behind him, Jazz's voice shrill and whiny while Maddie's was low and mollifying. Downstairs, he could hear a chorus of whispers and murmurs, rumors and gossip.
He shut and locked his bedroom door behind him, and then his knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor. His tears had gone, leaving behind a heavy ache in his limbs, dark emptiness in his head, gnawing dread in his stomach.
He knew that all the painkillers in the world couldn't possibly make this hurt any less.
But damn if he didn't want to try anyway.
Wouldn't it be good to be in your shoes even if it was for just one day? Wouldn't it be good if we could wish ourselves away?
Wouldn't it be good to be on your side? The grass is always greener over there. Wouldn't it be good if we could live without a care?
- Nik Kershaw
