Actions

Work Header

The Kid On The Roof

Summary:

"There was a kid standing on the roof of Casper High. A moment of imbalance, an unexpected breeze, anything could push him off."

The end of a normal school day takes a not-so-normal turn.

Notes:

This is possibly a train-wreck of an idea, but it hit me on the way to the dentist and then I wrote in my paper notebook on the way home.

Somehow reads eternally like your reading comprehension is -2. It's not you. I just Write Like That.

May or may not write a bonus chapter that takes place the night before.

I would very much like feedback. I wasn't able to get a beta for this and any little bit would help.

~~~

I grant blanket permission for podfics, art and translations, and any other transformative work as long as it involves absolutely no monetary profit or monetary exchange of any kind, or contribution to or use of generative AI. Please link back to the original so I can be thrilled you did it! Transformative work is epic, thanks to keriarentikai on tumblr for the blanket statement.

Work Text:

There was a kid standing on the roof of Casper High. He was high in the sky, far away from the world below, barely noticeable and only a step from the edge. A moment of imbalance, an unexpected breeze, anything could push him off.

He wasn’t easy to see, but one person did. Then another. More students gathered, staring raptly at the boy on the roof. When another person came out, they would pause, wondering what was happening, before looking up and seeing him.

The sea of students was choreographed, all facing towards the school and up, incapable of looking away. The bustle of school life was brought to a halt.

Everyone knew this boy.

He wasn’t well-liked, but he was nearly forced to be well-known. It was hard not to be with parents like his.

And so the entirety of the residents of Casper High watched Danny Fenton with bated breath.

~~~

Whispers passed through the crowd, wondering why he was doing this. What had gone so wrong for someone to want to do this? Why was he there?

A drama student speaks up, hesitant, of how once he’d seen Danny in the bathroom, trying to hide his fear and the scars on his arms. How there had been something far too war-torn in his eyes for someone still in high school.

How, while this was sad, it wasn’t surprising.

This story, and others like it, spread. Soon, communicated through murmurs, no one was surprised that this was happening. The questions soon moved on to why this was happening. What had brought him this low?

Dash watches the boy with guilt in his gaze. The question of why is passed by him, and he doesn’t answer. Can’t bring himself to admit the guilt he feels. His thoughts turn over everything he’d done, each punch he’d thrown and each insults he’d hurled, tossing every hurt onto others.

He doesn’t answer, but silence is answer enough for many of them.

This too, is spread. Some agree, but others must disagree. This is more than that, they say, there was something else. Few can dispute.

Danny’s friends weave through the crowd, the only people not frozen by this strange event. Again and again, people ask, Why? It is scared, and sad, and so very quiet. Tucker is calm. Sam seems to smile, something different than the smirks she gives in school. This is not understood. They say, He’s done hiding. They don’t say anything else.

Teachers move aimlessly. There is nothing they can do, no way to help. Even if there was, none of them would have been able to find it. One was inside, there to hear the few short screams before everyone fell to whispers. The gym teacher runs up flights of stairs, trying to get to the roof in time. The door is blocked. She can’t break it down.

~~~

Danny gazes into the sky. He doesn’t move as people file out after school. Watches the clouds as someone screams, drawing everyone’s eyes to him. Stands with his hands to the sky as people begin to whisper, trying to figure out what he’s doing, and then why.

He pays them no mind. He’s spent long enough caring what people think. He’s ready to let that all go.

The wind blows lightly, ruffling his hair. He closes his eyes and enjoys it, swaying in the breeze. People below yell in terror.

Finally, he tilts his head and faces the crowd. Silence falls with his gaze. I suppose you wonder why I’ve gathered you here. He jokes, quieter than the wind. Everyone hears. No one laughs.

He smiles, strange and wide and other. Steps forward. Falls.

~~~

The silence shatters as glass does, suddenly and with a loud cacophony, going everywhere without reason. People move away, but never look away. The moment stretches into eternity, his fall endless. Their gazes are magnetized, forced to watch.

The tension that pulls at time itself is painfully snapped when, right before he hit the ground, Danny Fenton disappears.

~~~

The crowd leaps forward like a single organism, desperate to see. Cries of He’s gone! wash over them, echoing from one side to the other.

The tension is gone, but the confusion isn’t. Is he a ghost? some ask. Others cry Why? needing to know what was so bad that he would do this.

The tone, finally, is freed to move, and rises and falls as people cry and question and mourn.

A teacher wonders if he should have seen, if Danny had died long ago and was a ghost, only now showing them the truth. Wonders if there was more he could have done. Burns this loss into him and takes it as a guide, that it’s time to change.

A bully stares at his hands. Was he the reason? Had he been that bad, that someone would rather die? He doesn’t move till long after most have left.

No one notices the few who slip away, readying for tomorrow and their plans.

People remember the times they saw him, the kid with old eyes, hurting and scared and yet so kind. They mourn.

~~~

People leave in groups of twos and threes, unwilling to be alone. Some go to their homes, locking themselves inside and trying to hide in games and music and life. Others go out on the town, dance and party and sing and surround themselves with life. It works, but never completely.

No one can stand the silence.

The story is shared all over town. Anyone and everyone willing to listen hears of what has happened, Someone tried to die, some start with. Others say I think the Fenton’s son is a ghost. The matter is not settled. It continues to be spoken of.

The town is thrown into mourning, for the death that must have been, days or weeks or years ago.

A very few remember the beginning of his Freshman year, four years ago now, and realize the unwanted truth. They, most of all, cry for what has been.

For a town so surrounded with death, they don’t know how to deal with it.

~~~

The next day, school is somber. Silence has its hold in the cracks and corners of the building, and creeps out into the halls and classrooms. Stories pass, good ones, of the kid everyone knows. Everyone talks, desperately trying to fill the silence. No one talks of what happened yesterday.

The bell rings, and the doors swing open wildly to admit a chronically late student. The throngs of people pause to stare at the intruder. The person pauses in their mad dash, looks up to see all eyes on them.

Danny Fenton laughs, nervous in the way of people who don’t like attention and find themselves the center of it. “Everyone okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”