DANNY POV

I'd be lying if I said my parents and my sister weren't broken by the fact that I was dead for fifteen minutes. They know I'm part human, part ghost. But to them, I'm just a kid. A sweet, beautiful, loving kid. I've been getting calls from them ever since I got back to my dorm. Every day, Jazz checks in on me. She says that she loves me every time, which she rarely used to say. My parents say the same thing. They say that they wouldn't know what to do if their baby boy died. But that's the thing: I'm a human and a ghost. I can't die permanently.

I've come to the conclusion that what happened was this…

So happy I only had two classes today. I'm not feeling the best right now, but that's because my mind is overwhelmed at the thought of having to see his face again. If I ever see him again, I'd have to break his face open like I almost did before break. Damn, it's cold out here. I better hurry back to my dorm.

I usually go to the football field—not the big one in the stadium, the smaller one they use for practices—for a moment after all my classes to clear my head. I cut through the track because it's quicker to get to my dorm than going all the way around the other side of campus.

"Fuck… I'm cold." I muttered, shivering slightly at the biting wind.

It's most likely thirty-five degrees, and even with the sun out, I'm still cold. I get halfway across the track, but before I know it, I get a chill running down my spine. I stop walking.

"You always were a little predictable."

Kwan was behind me, stepping out from the shadows, hands in his jacket pockets like this was just another day. Like this was a game.

I didn't back away.

"You've got some nerve showing your face to me." I shot, turning to face him. My voice cracked, dry from the cold and the panic pulsing in my throat.

"I could say the same to you, bitch boy. Running your mouth. Crying to Sean and Mikey. Playing the victim."

"I am the victim, asshole. You made sure of that. Would never let me forget it."

He clicked his tongue, slow and condescending. "Nah. You wanted it. You always wanted me to touch you. You liked it. You still do."

My fists clenched. Every part of me boiled.

"You're fucking sick, Kwan." I grunted through my teeth. "You raped me. And you think that's something to be proud of?"

Kwan stepped closer. The air between us went cold. He ran his fingers up my arm and lightly grazed my face.

"I don't feel guilt for taming a whiny little bitch who begged for attention. You paraded around like you were untouchable. So I touched."

"Don't fucking touch me."

He kept his fingers near my face, then grazed my skin again.

"I told you, don't fucking touch me." I grunted, pushing him away.

His smirk deepened. "You love it when I do that, huh? I knew you did, because you're a little, whiny, bitch." Then, he slapped me.

I didn't wait. I snapped.

I threw a hard punch—knuckles raw and uncoordinated but fueled by everything I'd held in for years. It caught him right in the jaw. He stumbled, spit flying from his mouth as he laughed.

"You really think you can take me?" He growled.

"You don't get to touch me again..." I hissed.

He lunged forward and I ducked, slamming my shoulder into his ribs. We crashed to the pavement. Gravel bit into my palms as I scrambled to swing again, landing one hit to his cheek—but then he grabbed my wrist and twisted... hard. A white-hot pain shot through my arm as he flipped us.

"You little punk!" Kwan snarled, fist crashing into my stomach. I gasped, the air knocked out of me. Then another punch—my jaw this time. My head snapped back against the concrete. My vision went fuzzy. That's a concussion waiting to happen.

But even still, I pushed.

I fought.

I kicked and punched as much as I could, one blow in particular catching in the ribs. He yelled, staggered back, and I took the chance to scramble to my feet.

Blood was already dripping down my chin. My head screamed with pain. But I stood.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore, Kwan." I said, voice shaking but sharp. "You don't scare me. You can't scare me."

"You should be..." Kwan snickered.

Then he reached into his coat and pulled something out.

A pair of brass knuckles.

Cold metal glinting under the light.

"Guess you forgot. I never play fair."

The next hit came so fast I barely registered it. My cheek split open with a crack, and I hit the ground again. Blood sprayed across the concrete.

I rolled, tried to crawl, but he was on me.

One hit.

Two.

Three.

Each one thudded like thunder, each one slamming into my ribs, my jaw, my chest. A really strong hit to my chest. My vision blurred. The world spun sideways. My ears rang.

I screamed. Not words. Just sound.

He leaned down, breath hot and venomous against my ear.

"After tonight, no one's gonna believe a word you say. They'll think you provoked me. That you lied about it all. That you couldn't handle rejection."

I felt the tears slide down the sides of my face. Not out of fear.

Out of rage.

"I hate you." I groaned in pain and anger. "Every second. Every touch. I hated myself for letting it happen."

He pulled back, looking almost amused. "So poetic."

He raised his fist again.

I caught it.

Somehow. Somehow I still had strength left.

"Guess you forgot, too. I'm smarter than you."

I dug my nails into his wrist, gritted my teeth, and slammed my forehead into his. Stars exploded behind my eyes. He grunted, fell back, and hit the concrete track. I scrambled up again.

My legs shook. My body screamed. But I got to my feet. I staggered forward and mounted him, pressing his body into the track.

"I'm done being your prey."

I punched him in the stomach. He gasped, coughing up blood. But he pushed me off. He was much stronger than I was. I raised my foot and kicked him in the ribs with everything I had left. Once. Twice. Three times.

He crumpled back down to the track.

But so did I.

My knees buckled. The world dipped sideways again. I felt something wet down my torso. Warm. Sticky.

I looked down.

Blood.

So much blood.

My hoodie clung to my stomach, soaked red from the bleeding from my head. My arms were trembling. My breath… shallow.

Too shallow.

My vision tunneled. I saw lights, but they weren't from the streetlamps.

They were from inside.

Memories. Sean's laugh. Mikey's jokes. Dash's eyes. Dash's arms around me after a bad dream. His lips. His voice.

The stars above me pulsed like dying embers.

Everything felt heavy.

Far away.

I then saw Kwan standing over me, obviously beaten, but still cocky. "I got the... last laugh, Fenton..." He chuckled.

I tried to say his name—Dash.

But I couldn't make a sound.

Nothing.

Then everything started fading to black.

Kwan must've seen me pass out, because I heard him start to panic.

"Oh, fuck… did I… did I kill him? Shit… I got to go…."

Then he ran away.

I felt myself losing consciousness, losing more blood than ever. I often thought death would be louder. More dramatic. More final.

But instead, it was... soft.

Like a whisper curling in the back of my throat. Like a thought unfinished.

I couldn't move anymore. My body was still. But my mind... my mind was racing, panicking, pleading. Like maybe if I focused hard enough, I could restart my lungs. Undo time. Blink back to before this night even began.

I didn't want to die on this icy ground.

Not like this.

Not with blood in my mouth and the taste of copper painting my tongue.

Not with blood soaking my body.

I tried to open my eyes. Tried to lift even a finger. Nothing moved.

But inside—inside everything was screaming.

I thought of Dash.

My protective partner. My best friend.

Dash.

Would he be mad? Would he blame himself? Would he break?

Would he hold my hoodie in his hands, still wet with blood, and remember how many times I said I was "fine"?

Would he scream my name into the cold sky?

Would he shut down, or light the world on fire?

I wanted to reach him. Just once. One last time.

Tell him everything.

That I loved him. That I always did. Even when I was scared. Even when I pushed him away. I wanted to say it out loud without trembling.

Dash… I'm sorry.

But what about Sean and Mikey—how would they even hear about it? A phone call? A headline? I imagined Sean punching a hole in the wall out of pain, and Mikey practically drinking himself to his own demise.

Would they blame themselves?

Would anyone?

…Or would they just forget me?

Would I become a headline? Another statistic? Another "quiet kid with a troubled past" who didn't make it to senior year?

No.

No.

I didn't want this to be my story.

I didn't want him to be the last chapter.

I started to fight. Started to fight back. I clawed at the darkness, tried to scream into the void, tried to will myself back.

But all I could feel now was floating. Like my body was being peeled away layer by layer. My skin, my voice, my memories—unraveling.

And beneath all of it, there was this terrifying emptiness.

Not peace.

Not warmth.

Just…

Nothing.

And yet—I wasn't gone. Not fully. Not yet.

There was still a heartbeat somewhere. Distant. Unsteady. But it's mine.

I wasn't dead.

Not yet.

And that terrified me even more.

Because if I wasn't dead, then that meant I was still here.

Still bleeding.

Still alone.

Still waiting—for someone to find me.

For someone to see me.

Please.

Please.

Don't let me die here.

And then… that's when I heard those muffled voices.

"Wait… is that… Danny? Oh, shit. It is Danny! Danny, wake up… oh, fuck... he's not waking up… and dude, I'm not getting a pulse. Damnit, Danny! Wake up, wake up!"

Sean.

"Oh, shit… where's Dash when you need him?!"

Mikey.

The two people I didn't expect to find me. The two people I didn't want to find me.

Sean's probably shaking my beaten body right now, or performing CPR. His hands are most likely dripping in my blood from touching me. Mikey's probably having a panic attack. Again, the two people I didn't want to find me have found me.

Then it got real silent.

I don't know why it got really silent, but it did.

My heart was beating slower and slower.

And then I was able to make out a screaming voice. A voice that I know so well. A voice that is usually so cool, calm, and collected. But he's far from that right now.

"Danny!"

It was Dash's voice. He was screaming. Screaming so loud. By this point, my hearing had nearly faded completely. I wasn't breathing. I wasn't moving. Everything was failing.

I couldn't feel his touch. I couldn't feel the pain. I couldn't feel the blood dripping anymore. I just felt… peace.

My heart is still beating, but… everything's fading.

The last thing I can make out the sound to is the ambulance sirens. And the last thing that fully registered in my head was Dash saying something to me.

"I love you."

After that, it went silent.

Fully silent.

My heart was beating so slowly.

I'm dying. And the story would've went like this:

I died at the hands of my rapist.

Please. Just don't let me go yet. It's not my time.

I'm not ready.

I can't watch my family go through the heartache.

I can't watch Dash go through the heartache.

DASH POV, PRESENT DAY AFTER CLASS

Sean was waiting for me and Mikey outside of my room. Danny was inside, resting his body again. He has to get back to 100% the right way, even if he is a supernatural kid.

"You broke his nose." Mikey smirked, impressed.

"I did." I confirmed. "Would've aimed for more, but we got that covered."

Sean handed me the folder from his backpack—thick, sealed, official-looking. I took it without looking. "You know what to do now, Dash."

I took a deep breath. "I'm very appreciative of all your help. I know dealing with me these past few weeks hasn't been easy."

Mikey chuckled. "Dude, we'd do anything to help you. Danny is your boyfriend and our little brother. We weren't gonna watch Kwan get away with this."

"Plus, after what Mikey and I added to that folder, there's no way he doesn't get put in prison." Sean remarked.

"What is all in here?" I asked.

"It's everything you originally had plus more. His texts to Danny and the frat guys about Danny. The hazing incident. The bruise patterns. The assault. Pictures. Dates. Testimonies. Witnesses. And I found a note he wrote to one of the guys about how he wanted to have his way with Danny again and again. It's all there."

I have a mission. And I'm going to accomplish that mission now. But there's something missing.

The file is done.

Everything's compiled in one spot.

It's enough.

Should be enough.

All I had to do was give this to the Dean, the campus conduct board, the scholarship committee, and the local police department.

But I hesitated.

"Why does this feel… incomplete?" I muttered angrily as I stood outside in front of the Dean's office.

Kwan was done. He's been physically wrecked. His reputation? Shredded. But I know Kwan.

He'll find a way to spin it.

Because Kwan always did.

He has the bruises to prove it. He has the broken nose as well. But I know how these things go with him. Kwan would cry victim and say it was mutual. He'd say Danny was asking for it. He'll say I'm violent and insane. Anything that will make him the vulnerable one.

My knuckles tensed again. The bruises on my hand still burned from the hit earlier. A small price I have to pay.

But this won't be enough.

Not unless the world hears it from Kwan himself.

"I need a video, guys." I sighed. "Of him saying it. Out loud. No way to talk around it."

Mikey looked up from his phone. "What, like an actual confession?"

"Yes. I need him to say it. Say everything he did to Danny."

Sean exhaled. "Mikey and I got a video of him screaming that he hurt him. He's panicked, bleeding out his face. It's real."

"It's not enough. He'll claim it was under duress. Or that he was saying it to stop us from hitting him again. You guys know Kwan. He'll do anything to look like the victim."

"He was under duress, though. But, you're right." Mikey added with a shrug and a heavy sigh.

"Exactly." I remarked.

I leaned against the edge of the table, eyes locked on the folder in my hand, my heart pounding like a drum.

What if this was overkill? What if he was going too far?

I don't want to lose Danny over this. I don't want to cross a line and never find my way back.

But then Sean spoke—quiet and certain.

"Don't tell me you're hesitating. You're doing this for us—no. You're doing this for him, man."

I didn't look at him, but I heard it.

"You're not doing this for payback. Not just to ruin Kwan. You're doing this so Danny never has to look over his shoulder again. So Danny never has to worry about his violent and unhinged rapist coming after him."

Mikey chimed in, softer. "So Danny can sleep without hearing that guy's voice in his nightmares. So he can go back to the Danny you remember. The Danny we all know and love." He got closer to me. "Dash. You need to do this."

I swallowed hard.

Yeah.

That is it.

This isn't about vengeance.

It's about freedom.

It's about giving Danny his future back. His life.

My jaw locked, and my voice dropped to a growl.

"Then we're getting that fucking confession."

I grabbed my phone and tapped the record button. Then I looked at Sean. "We need him alone. No pressure. No yelling. Just… the truth."

Sean raised a brow. "Think he'll give in?"

"He has no choice. Because I'm not asking."

Mikey smirked. "Then let's finish this. Tonight."

There was no one inside the gym. No players or coaches. Just the dim glow of cold lights overhead and the weight of everything I've been carrying pressing down on my shoulders.

Kwan sat in the bleachers like a ghost of himself—bruised, swollen, face stitched in red and purple. A tissue jammed under one nostril, dried blood flaking at the edges of his mouth. His once-clean varsity jacket looked more like a war trophy now. He clutched at his ribs. Danny must've done some damage to him recently. Good.

He wasn't restrained.

He wasn't guarded.

He was just... waiting.

He didn't even flinch when I walked in.

I didn't speak at first. Just stood there with the door closing softly behind me, the recording still going on my phone and kept it in my front pocket.

It's capturing everything.

Kwan scoffed and winced. "Back for… round two? Thought you got your shot in already today. When you broke my nose."

My voice was low. Calm. Controlled. "Not here to fight you, Kwan."

Kwan leaned back with a bitter smile, the movement clearly painful. "Then what? Want me to beg you for forgiveness now? That's it?"

"No." I answered, stepping closer. "I want the truth."

Kwan gave me an incredulous look. "I told you already."

"Not all of it, man. Not the part I need to hear. Not the part he deserves to hear."

Kwan's eyes narrowed. "So this is for Danny." A smirk slowly formed on his face. "Little whiny bitch boy."

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes burning with anger, but I had to keep it cool. "This isn't just for Danny. This is for me."

Kwan laughed—a hollow, grating laugh. "Oh, yeah. I forgot you were always trying to be the hero."

"No." I exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. "But I was your friend."

Silence.

Kwan blinked.

I took another step forward.

"Do you remember that?" My voice cracked ever so slightly—not with weakness, but with rage barely contained. "Do you remember what it was like to actually be friends? Before football. Before the image. Before all the bullshit."

Kwan's eyes darted away.

"When we were kids. I defended you from everyone. Fought for you. Took hits for you. And you—"

My voice dropped again. It was low. Bitter.

"You turned into this disgusting person. This coward in designer cleats. You tried hiding behind frat letters and cheap shots. You chose to become the monster."

Kwan swallowed, his breath uneven. "You think I chose this? You think I wanted to turn out like this?"

"You didn't have to, though, Kwan. Neither of us did. But you did it anyway. You hurt people. But not just anyone—you hurt a kid that did nothing to you. Over and over."

Kwan froze. Like I fired a bullet in the chamber at him.

I stepped closer, fire in every word now. "You didn't just haze him. You didn't just assault him, either. You put your hands on him. You left him bleeding on the track like trash—like his life meant nothing. Like he meant nothing. You broke him, Kwan. But that was what you wanted."

Kwan was trembling now. Whether from pain or shame, I didn't care. All I knew is that I had him.

"You shattered every part of him you could get your hands on. And for what? Because you couldn't stand that he wouldn't back down from you? Because he has people who actually care about him?"

Kwan didn't speak.

Dash leaned in. "Say it."

"What?" Kwan croaked.

"Say what you did. Out loud. Right now. I want the words. All of them." I hissed.

Kwan's lips parted. But nothing came.

My hands started to shake—not from fear, but fury. "You say everything. Every touch. Every hit. Every second of what you did. You owe him that."

More silence. Kwan's eyes flicked to the floor.

Then, finally, a breath. Shaky. Shattered.

"I followed him." Kwan whispered. "That morning... I followed him after his class. He was going back to his dorm, I guess."

I didn't move. Just listened.

"I waited until he was alone. I had him trapped on the track." Kwan's voice cracked, something in his chest folding in on itself. "I—I said things. Threats. Stuff I knew would shut him up."

I swallowed. Tears were starting to brim my eyes. But I stayed strong. For now.

Kwan kept going. "But he didn't. So… I slapped him in a last ditch effort to get ahead. I didn't expect him to fire back the way he did. We fought. Hard. I busted his nose. One of my punches caused him to ricochet his head off the track, but he didn't seem to be too fazed by it. He tried to fight me off, but I—I hit him with a pair of brass knuckles. Then again. And again. Harder. More powerful. Until he was bleeding out so much that he… stopped moving."

His voice dropped to a hollow whisper.

"He was bleeding. From his nose. His head. There was so much blood."

My throat burned. My heart ached. I wanted to jump at Kwan.

Kwan didn't look up. "I freaked out because I… thought I killed him. So, I left him there. I didn't even check if he was breathing. I just... sprinted away as fast as I could."

I stepped back from him, my hand clenched over my mouth. "You did kill him." I thought angrily. "You took him from me."

Kwan continued, regret dripping in his voice. "I didn't care. I didn't think I had to."

"And before that?"

Kwan flinched. "What?"

"High school, Kwan. What'd you do to him junior year?"

Kwan looked like he might vomit.

My voice was ice. "Say it."

Kwan's breath hitched. "I... some of the teammates and I hazed him in the locker room. Scarred his face with those same brass knuckles. Told everyone it was just roughhousing. Then, weeks later, I… I grabbed him in the locker room during gym class. Slammed his head into the locker. Forcefully held him down. And that day, I took his pride and innocence..."

My chest rose and fell as I steadied myself. Tears were starting to come down now because of how upset I was getting. The feeling of rage is harder to contain than I thought.

"I told him I'd tell everyone he was weak..." Kwan added, eyes glassy. "That he asked for it. That he wanted me to… to do it. That no one would believe him if he said I—"

He broke off, trembling. He looked like he was ready to break down.

I don't need the rest. But I'm still getting it.

The silence stretched between us, like tension that could be cut with a knife.

Then I spoke to him—low, final, and as steady as I could.

"You stole his safety, Kwan. His sense of self. His right to be okay. You…" Even as tears fell from my eyes, I kept my voice strong. "You took something he'll never get back."

Kwan nodded slowly, face pale. "I regret it. All of it."

"You can never undo it… you can't change what you did. But now? Now, at least, he'll be heard."

I took the phone from my pocket and stopped the recording.

Kwan's head slowly lifted, eyes flickering with something like defeat.

But I'm not done.

"Here's what is going to happen. You're going to face charges, and you're going to jail. You're going to be expelled. And your name—your legacy? It'll rot with you."

With that, I walked to the door, pausing before opening it.

"This isn't revenge, Kwan Lee. This is justice. And justice has finally been served."

Then I left.

And behind me, Kwan sat alone—surrounded not by friends, fans, or power—but the echoes of every truth he finally admitted.

TWO MONTHS LATER

It's been a lot quieter lately. Two months ago, I put a former friend of mine behind bars. Kwan was given life in prison for everything he did. He lost all scholarships. Got expelled. I succeeded in taking him down. I couldn't have done it without Sean and Mikey's help, though.

And Danny?

I got my baby boy back. Only this time, we're both more appreciative of sharing every moment together. What has happened to him in the past three years taught us both that life is so precious, and it can be taken from you at any moment. Life is also cruel and punishing. People that you thought you could trust turn out to be people that do things you wouldn't ever imagine. His injuries have all healed, but his mental state is still recovering.

As for me, well…

I've been different. Losing Danny, even if it was for that brief amount of time, changed me forever. I've been learning how to channel my anger more. How to stay calm when things get heated. The sunlight filters through the blinds like gold-dipped thread across the sheets. It's early. That kind of early where the birds are still getting their shit together, where the campus is silent except for a stray breeze rattling a branch outside the window.

"Danny…" I hummed quietly. "Good morning, baby." I said, planting a kiss on his forehead.

He begins to stir and after a moment, I see those baby blue eyes flutter open. I see that beautiful smile. I see him. God, how I've missed this version of him. "Mmm… hmmm…" He tilts his head up to see me. "Good morning, Dashi..." A soft smile is on his face.

"Hey, baby."

He nuzzles his head back into the crook of my neck, voice still thick with sleep. "Still sunrise. I missed mornings like this."

There was a time—a time not too long ago—when mornings like this felt like hell. When silence was heavy. Unbearable. When he'd jolt awake and flinch away from my arms because the darkness still clung to him, because the quiet reminded him of that night.

Now? Now the silence is calm again. Safe. Filled with things we don't need to say anymore.

"How are you feeling?" I ask softly, running my hand along his back again.

He doesn't respond for a minute. His breathing is still light and calm. "Physically? Like I'm at 150%. Mentally, I'm at 60%."

I know Danny still has his days where he has some rough nights. Some weird dreams about what happened. But I know he's not scared anymore.

"I don't flinch when someone runs up behind me. I... I feel more like me again." He sighed calmly.

"That's all I want for you, baby." I smile.

I feel him cling to my body tighter. Like he's scared to let go. He doesn't want to. A part of me feels like he thinks I won't keep my promise to him. A part of me feels like he thinks that I'm going somewhere. I'm not.

"I'm not going anywhere, ghost boy…" I kiss the side of his head and hold him closer to me.

"I know." Danny replies. "I just… you know I love clinging to you like this." He chuckled.

I chuckle as well. "Yeah, yeah…" I pause for a moment, unsure of what to say. The truth is, I really don't know what to say. Danny means so much to me, so I guess it's harder to find the words now after everything that's happened.

"Dash?"

His voice is soft and quiet. Softer than I remembered it being.

"Yes?" I hesitate to answer.

For a second, Danny doesn't say anything. Then, he does. "I know this is weird, but… when we first became friends, did you ever… notice anything?"

"Notice anything?" I repeated to myself. "What do you mean?"

He moves his head so I can see his face again. "I mean, did you ever notice the… the way I'd kind of freeze up around him?"

I hesitate again. Danny doesn't know yet just how much I saw. I saw everything. "I noticed how you'd freeze up. How you would get this look on your face any time he came up behind you in the locker room. And this was only after the hazing. After the other situation…" I had to be careful not to trigger him. "You would almost instantly panic whenever he was around. I wish I would've known what he did to you. Danny… I'm so sorry I didn't protect you."

The look in Danny's eyes… man, I wish I could look away. I feel so guilty for not protecting him. As his friend at the time, I had one job, and I failed. As his boyfriend, I didn't protect him from Kwan and he slipped out of my fingers. I failed then, as well.

"You didn't know how bad it was, Dash. Don't blame yourself for that. I didn't want to tell you how scared I was. How I wanted to run and hide every time I saw him. Around that time, you were still friends with him, too. So, I thought I couldn't trust you."

My eyes didn't leave his.

"I didn't know if I could tell you that your best friend had done something so traumatizing. Plus, I had never been in that situation before, which didn't make my survivor's remorse any better. I thought it was my fault. Even though I'm sexual with you, it was hard to get to that point. I had to teach myself that even though I went through something like that, I couldn't let that control me. So, I hid it from everyone. I suppressed the thoughts and buried them. That was my darkest secret, and no one knew for a long time. Until I told you."

He's a survivor. I always want him to know that he's a survivor. He's a fighter. What he's been through in this life makes him so much stronger than he'll ever realize. Yes, there are going to be scars and wounds. But for Danny, they aren't just normal wounds or scars: they're battle wounds and battle scars.

"Like I've told you before, you're a survivor. Like the medics told you, you're a warrior. It's never your fault. Plus, you can always tell me anything. I don't want you to ever feel like you can't trust me. I'll always protect you, and I'll always be here for you. We're in this together."

His fingers curl around mine. "Promise?"

I kiss his knuckles. "Promise, my love."

And as we all know now, that every promise I make, I keep.