Chapter Text
It had been a long day. But then again, when hadn’t it? Danny had fallen into bed battered and bruised after a long night of never-ending fighting. Back when he’d first started his second life as Phantom, he’d had trouble getting to sleep after a night out. But now he was down for the count nearly before his head hit the pillow. One of the few mercies his body offered him, once the extent of his injuries showed themselves when he turned human again. They never hurt as badly as they would when he first got them. At least in ghost form, he could put off the hurt. Sometimes it was tempting to try sleeping in ghost form, to fend off the aches until he woke up. But no, he couldn’t risk being found that way.
The worst nights were always the ones where his parents were the ones hunting him. No matter how many times it happened, getting shot at by his mother never got any easier. Especially because they always left him with injuries that were difficult to explain away. Danny was pretty sure he’d accidentally convinced Tucker’s mom that he was being abused at home, after the third or fourth time he’d shown up with mysterious injuries and needed a place to claim he’d been. To Mrs. Foley’s credit, she hadn’t asked questions when Tucker and Danny had asked her not to. Once or twice she’d even assisted the pair of them in bandaging one of Danny’s injuries. A burn, clearly made with a Fenton Blaster by the green-tinged edges of the burn. Which was only emphasized by Tucker’s clear anger when they’d arrived. She hadn’t asked where it came from, and hadn’t suggested calling his parents over it. She’d stopped suggesting that after the second time Danny had panicked, and begged her not to.
Sam’s parents still hadn’t warmed to him, but he hadn’t expected them to. They had grown to grudgingly tolerate his friendship with their daughter, especially after they had broken off their romantic relationship. Though even they seemed to accept that sometimes he couldn’t be at home, and accepted his presence in their house. And if at some point he needed to claim he’d been there? The house was large. Perhaps they simply hadn’t seen him. He was there.
It was getting harder to hide the bruises at school. A long-sleeved black shirt had soon taken a place in his usual outfits, under whatever T-shirt he deemed most appropriate for the day. It cut down on the stares he got, and made it less obvious when he had something to hide. His ghostly healing made the marks fade in a day or two, but that was still long enough to bring unwanted attention to him. Every so often, a teacher expressed concern. He didn’t care, but he supposed it was nice of them anyway.
Once or twice, Sam had broached the subject of temporarily retiring Phantom. Taking a break. But how many people would end up hurt because Danny ‘took a break’? He couldn’t be sure. His lunch conversations with his friends had grown tense, talking about nothing and ignoring the elephant in the room.
His sixteenth birthday loomed in the distance, unimportant compared to the rest of his life. Before that was the ever-menacing spectre of Christmas, and winter break alone with his family. His sister Jazz did her best to keep their parents off his back, but even the most dedicated individual could only keep the Doctors Fenton focussed on something they were uninterested in for so long. And with her looming graduation shortly after Danny’s birthday, and her pending application to Gotham University, she wasn’t likely to be a long-term pillar of support to him. And while he couldn’t hold it against her, it still hurt.
For now though, he was stuck in the cafeteria of Casper High, poking disdainfully at a blob of reconstituted mashed potatoes, and listening to Tucker explain his latest upgrade to his PDA.
“-and the Palm TX is already one of the best on the market for the time -not as good as the Pilot, of course, per time-standard, but still very good- but with an extra memory card for my extension, I’ve managed to bring it up to a full 200 megabytes!”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Tuck, you don’t need all that. People are going to think you’re a drug dealer.” Tucker scoffed at her remark, going back to piling mashed potatoes into his mouth between arguments. “Or,” he countered, his mouth half-full. “A good future recruit for a position as a software engineer.”
Sam grimaced at him. “Please swallow before you talk. And besides, Tucker. No job worth a damn is going to care how much memory your PDA had in highschool. They’ll care what college you went to, and what experience you have.” Tucker swallowed his food and glared at her before responding tersely, “This IS experience, Sam! I’m practising improving tech models through both hardware and software, and proving I can engineer my own upgrades!”
Sam snorted, and returned her attention to her lunch. Danny chuckled at their antics, and continued to poke at his entirely unappealing food. Eating was a necessary burden, but it seemed uncharacteristically bothersome lately. Sam and Tucker both continuously glanced at his full plate, but said nothing. Eventually they all fell into a tense silence, which seemed to grow moment by moment, until Sam gingerly attempted to break it.
“...so, I heard Jazz is graduating early.”
Danny nodded tersely. He supposed he should be proud of her for it. She’d certainly earned it. “Yeah. This summer.” He didn’t feel like elaborating further. Sam apparently didn’t feel like pressing further. Easy compromise. Tucker, however, did not seem cowed by his ever-so-subtle implications to drop the subject.
“What are you gonna do after she leaves? Isn’t she covering our asses for dealing with your parents?” Tucker had a good point, even if it wasn’t one Danny wanted to listen to.
“I don’t know,” Danny said, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on his lunch. “I guess we just have to be more careful. At least the whole shitshow with Pariah’s over, even if we do have to worry about Vlad allying with Fright Knight now, we’ve got one headache off our plate.”
Tucker still didn’t look satisfied with this explanation, raising an eyebrow at Danny and looking concerned. Danny shuffled his feet awkwardly and averted his eyes before continuing.
“Look, Tuck. Every time I try to make a plan, the universe throws me another curveball. Strategy hasn’t helped jack shit, and at this point my five-year plan is just to hopefully live to SEE the next five years.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the three friends, lasting until the end of lunch.
By the time the bell rang, Danny was genuinely glad to be leaving. It made pangs of guilt echo through his chest to be grateful to not be talking to his friends anymore, but everything just felt like too much lately. He couldn’t help but feel an apprehension in the air, like there was a coming storm. He wasn’t sure how he could tell, but something was going to happen. Then again, maybe it was just anxiety. He hadn’t been sleeping enough lately -though when was the last time he HAD slept enough?- and he’d read somewhere that sleep deprivation made anxiety worse. Though even if it didn’t, he still had plenty of things to be anxious about, probably.
Their next class was fairly unremarkable. Math, thankfully. A class he was actually fairly decent at. Mostly he could nod at the right times and bullshit his notes, unless-
“Who can tell me the name of the symbol used to represent the coefficient of friction? Mr. Fenton?”
Shit.
Well, at least he knew that one. Probably.
“Er- The greek letter μ. Pronounced ‘mew’, drawn like a ‘u’ with an extra weird tail thingie.”
The teacher raised an eyebrow.
“And the full formula?”
…okay, so he’d said the wrong thing. Fuck. He still knew this one, probably.
“...F=μN, ‘F’ standing for friction, and ‘N’ standing for Normal force, or downward force. Which is equal to weight on a flat surface.”
The teacher nodded, and Danny internally sighed with relief. He’d memorized that one because F=μN looked like the word ‘Fun’ and the irony stuck with him.
He heard Dash snicker from somewhere behind him, and mutter ‘nerd’ under his breath. Because knowing the answer to a question was bad, apparently. Though not knowing would have gotten him mocked even more. Really, there was no good way to respond when the teacher called on him. A metaphor for life, maybe.
His teacher and classmates droning on blended together into one amorphous cacophony of inescapable ‘too much’, and Danny tried in vain to cover his ears. He was too close to the front of the room to get away with it, but it was nice to imagine he could. Finally, the bell freed him from mathematics. Only for him to be forced into english, which was even worse.
He’d never had a particular fondness for english the way he had for math or science. He never quite seemed to understand the symbolism that his teachers wanted him to see, and when he found his own he was promptly informed that he was wrong. That kinda took all the fun out of english, and most of reading in general. Nothing he liked was ‘real’ literature, and whenever he tried to find something about ‘real’ literature to like, he was wrong. At least he got through this class without being called on. Maybe Mr. Lancer had finally learned that Danny was useless at this class, and to just ignore him.
Next -and thankfully last- was history, which he shared with Sam. And she ALWAYS had something to say, so it was generally an entertaining one.
They’d finished their last unit faster than the teacher had expected, apparently. So he was trying to introduce a new one that would be fairly short before the next planned one.
“Alright, class. So, for today’s short unit we’re going to be learning about a bit more british history. Today’s topic is Mary, Queen of Scots. Otherwise known as Bloody Mary.”
Sam immediately raised her hand, and Danny knew this was going to be good. It always was, when Sam had an opinion on women’s history. The teacher tried to ignore her at first, but eventually sighed and gestured to her.
“...yes, Miss Manson?”
Sam cleared her throat and stood up.
“You’ve started off with false information. The nickname ‘Bloody Mary’ referred to Mary the 1st of England. Mary Queen of Scots is a completely different historical figure, and you’ve literally started the unit by announcing that you don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s an error on the scale of claiming that Alexander Hamilton was one of the Presidents because he appears on the 10-dollar bill. Just because her name was Mary doesn’t mean she’s related.”
The teacher reddened in embarrassment, and glared daggers at Sam. Various snickers circulated the class, especially from the girls. Danny himself also cracked a smile, and shot Sam a thumbs-up.
The rest of the class was comparatively boring. They got homework back, and Danny had managed a C-. Which wasn’t amazing, but he technically passed and he’d gladly accept that. A year ago, getting a C- would have meant he panicked and threw himself into studying in hopes to get his grade up, but now he simply didn’t have the energy to care. And based on familial reactions to his dramatic nosedive in academic performance, neither did his parents.
Jazz cared about his grades, but not more than his little remaining sleep. And if he had to sacrifice one, she’d tell him to sacrifice grades. Of course, she didn’t like much of anything about the situation. But she was a good sister, and she would keep her lips sealed about his vigilante life. She’d even done his homework a few times, in some futile attempt to help save his future. He appreciated the gesture, but two good papers still hadn’t saved his grades. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to save his future, when he wasn’t even sure that he’d be able to beat back Skulker and Plasmius long enough for school scores to matter.
He was startled out of his pessimistic internal monologue by the bell, and class wrapping up. About time, too. His binder was starting to chafe, and he was damn ready to be home already. He grabbed his bag and ran out the door quickly, heading to the front of the school. He looked for a familiar head of red hair, searching for his sister and avoiding everyone else. When he finally spotted her, he waved and ran toward her. Only for a leg to be stuck out into his path, tripping him and sending him sprawling.
The breath was knocked out of him as he hit the ground, scraping his hands on the concrete. He scrabbled up to his knees, trying to ignore the laughter he heard from behind him. A quick glance told him it was Dash -because it was always fucking Dash- but he didn’t have the energy or self-restraint to talk to Dash right now. So he just stood up, and continued on. Trying to ignore the jibes pointed his way.
Jazz looked concerned as Danny limped over to her, but she didn’t say anything. Just glared at Dash from across the courtyard as he and his friends walked away. As far as any teacher or adult was concerned, there was no proof. Danny was just jealous, and acting out for attention by trying to get his classmate in trouble. Of course, it didn’t help that it was an unpopular trans teenager trying to get help against a trust-fund jock with a future.
The only comfort Danny had from it was that it was easy to hate Dash for it. He didn’t have an excuse, so Danny didn’t have to feel guilty for despising him. He caught up to Jazz, and the pair of them turned east toward Fenton Works. Danny had taken the route so many times he could do it in his sleep, and Jazz had been taking it longer than he had.
The two of them used to make smalltalk as they walked home, but it’d been happening less lately. Ever since the accident, when Danny had turned. Danny thought they were both grateful for the break without having to answer any questions. Jazz finally seemed tired of talking about university, and Danny was certainly tired of talking about school. Or the ghost-fighting. At least at home, nobody asked questions anymore. If he left for a while, nobody noticed. Well, Jazz might. But she’d stopped telling their parents when she found out why he was disappearing. Jack and Maddie never seemed to have picked up on anything having changed.
But when the pair got home today, the house seemed unusually lively. Both Jack and Maddie were out of the basement laboratory, sitting at the kitchen and staring intently at the door when the pair walked in. Danny almost questioned what they were doing, until he saw the letter in front of them. It had an official-looking type, with a big logo that said ‘Gotham University’ on it. Jazz’s acceptance letter. It wouldn’t be a rejection, with the giddy look on his mother’s face. The envelope was torn open on the floor, visibly crumpled. Danny could almost see his parents ripping open the letter as soon as they received it, not even waiting for Jazz to get home. That was illegal, but so were a lot of the things his parents did.
Jazz blinked at them, clearly processing the open letter at the same time Danny did.
“Mom, Dad… You do know it’s a federal crime to open someone else’s mail, right?” Jazz said curtly, doing a poor job of disguising her anger. Jack had the decency to look sheepish, while Maddie just kept smiling at them.
“Oh, but honey-” She said, looking at her daughter proudly. “You got in! And not even just that, you got the full scholarship!” Jazz tried to force a smile, then glanced worriedly at Danny. “...I’m still thinking about it, of course. But I’m glad to have the option cemented.” Maddie looked surprised, pushing the letter across the table as if it were an ace in a card game. “Jazzy, you got the full scholarship. You’d be able to get the highest qualifications available for someone in your field, without a penny in student debt! How can you still be ‘thinking about it’? I would have killed for this chance at your age!”
Somehow, Danny completely believed that she would have. Jazz also seemed to, as he noticed her subtly stiffen at the remark. His older sister sighed, and shot their mother a stern look.
“I still have responsibilities to deal with here. Gotham University is prestigious, but it’s also three states away. If I looked for something closer, I could come back to visit more, and still keep in closer contact with Danny. And besides, I need to-”
“You should take it.” Danny interrupted, looking at Jazz with what he hoped was reassurance. “I’ll be fine. Don’t sacrifice your future just to stay here a little longer. If I can get my grades up again, maybe I’ll even join you someday.”
Jazz still looked worried, but Maddie nodded approvingly. “See? Danny agrees with me. It’s the best choice, for you and everyone else. Just think of how much you’ll learn in Gotham’s psychology course! And if you really miss us that much, you can always come back after you’ve got your qualifications.” Jazz swallowed, looking at Danny again. Then she slowly nodded, looking uncertain. “...I guess I should get working on my response, then. If I’m going to register, I should do it soon.”
Maddie lit up with pride. Jack smiled at her gleefully, and Danny could see him already picturing Jazz all grown up, wearing her own lab coat and conducting her own experiments. Danny felt a twinge in his chest as he pictured it. Jazz chewed her lip, still looking contemplative. Danny managed a smile, and elbowed her playfully.
“C’mon. Go do good in college, so you can visit as soon as possible. I’ll miss you.”
And the protection she gave him from their parents. But that wasn’t something he could say to her. Because Jazz was strong, but she was also incredibly selfless. And however much he wanted to cling to her forever, she wasn’t meant to stay here. She was meant for bigger things than this stupid little town, and their backwards family. But she would stay forever, if it meant protecting her brother. And Danny couldn’t let that happen.
Jazz slowly nodded and sighed, looking simultaneously fond and afraid. “...we’ll talk later.” she said, patting Danny on the shoulder. Danny nodded, and Maddie raised an eyebrow. But Jack was still beaming. “Gosh, can you believe it, Maddie?? Our little Jazzypants, getting into a top university! Aw, the family’s gonna be so proud.”
Danny and Jazz quickly made excuses to go upstairs, as their parents kept talking among themselves. Jazz stopped in the hallway, looking at Danny with an obnoxious amount of sympathy. “...I really could stay, if it meant you were safer.”
Danny tried to give her a smile, but it turned into more of a lopsided grimace. “Jazz, you’re sweet. And I get why you say that, I really do. But… You staying here isn’t going to help you keep going. I’ll survive a few years without the extra help. Your grades might not.” He tried to turn the last part into a joke, to lighten the mood. But Jazz only furrowed her brow. “I don’t care about my grades more than your life, Danny.” Dammit. Of course it wouldn’t work.
“C’mon, Jazz. They’ve never managed to keep me down before. Besides, I’m already dead? How much worse can they do than that?”