Chapter Text
“Maybe it’s not the ghosts I’m afraid of.”
That one sentence, it all its quietness and simplicity, shook Dash to his very core.
There was fear in those boy’s baby-blue hues, and suddenly he realised what exactly Danny was saying.
“You’re scared of your parents.”
It wasn’t a question- it was a statement.
Daniel Fenton was afraid of his own flesh and blood. He was afraid of the dark because the thought that they- his own parents- could be lurking in the corners of the room, wrapped in shadows, genuinely terrified him. It made Dash feel ill. What could they have possibly done to him? Yeah, they were a little eccentric, but he’d never thought for even a second that they’d had it in them to be abusive.
"Every time I turn off the lights- they’re there. Their smiles don’t look right in the dark and I hate it, I hate that I don’t even feel safe in my own home anymore and-"
Danny was panicking. His clenched hands were shaking, his breathing was harsh and uneven in a way that made it seem like he wasn’t doing it out of necessity, merely for the familiarity of the motion, and his eyes were glassy, like he was close to tears.
(Dash wouldn’t blame him at all if he was.)
“Danny- Danny, you’ve gotta calm down. You’ll work yourself into a panic attack, and I don’t think anyone wants that.”
Danny took a few haphazard breaths in what looked like a feeble attempt to soothe himself. It didn’t seem to do much, but he began to speak again anyway.
"I’m sorry, it’s- it’s just-"
He stopped talking abruptly, and something inside him must have snapped, because he looked at Dash with dead-set determination glinting in his eyes.
“You know what? Secrets are overrated- Fuck them. I might as well tell you everything else, too.” Danny took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve not felt safe around my parents for about a year now, because I’m frightened half to death that I’m going to wake up on a dissection table again one day, only next time as this me; their son.
“Because one of my greatest fears is that they hate him more than they love me.”
Now how the hell was Dash supposed to respond to that? Luckily, he didn’t have to, because the raven-haired boy ploughed right on.
“I can see the red eyes of their jumpsuits staring at me in the dark. But, there’s something else as well. It sounds absurd, it really does but, I’ve started so, I’ll finish, I guess.” Danny took another brief moment to collect himself before starting another explanation (now that he thought about it, this was the longest conversation he’d ever had with the young Fenton), “I’ve been shown snippets of stuff that could happen. It was me but, it just- it just wasn’t. He was horrible, he destroyed everything. And, even if Clockwork’s told me he’s not coming back, I’m scared to look at my shadow in case it’s not mine that’s behind me. I can see his stupid face and his stupid smile whenever I look in the mirror. And he’ll say, in the calmest of tones: ‘I’m inevitable’. It’s all he ever says, but it keeps me up at night- and if I do manage sleep- Dan or that damned metal surgical table is there behind my eyelids.
“And you know why I haven’t just gone insane from lack of sleep? I have a fucking nightlight, Dash. Nobody else knows about it. Not my friends, not Jazz, and especially not my parents. It’s a shitting rocket nightlight that projects little stars onto my ceiling at night. And you know what I’ve done, Dash? I’ve fucking lost it. How the shit do you lose something when you know exactly where it should be and nobody else knows it exists? No shitting clue, which is why it’s still fucking lost. I haven’t slept in weeks- and the only reason I’m not completely dead is because I’ve got one damn foot in the grave already.” Danny had hissed it with such immense hatred, like the words were poison that he wanted extracted from his system as soon as possible. He had gotten progressively louder over the course of the explanation, but he had never shouted, and he commended him for that. Dash didn’t know if the crazy amount of self-control that Danny seemed to posses was admirable or downright scary.
“What do you ‘one foot in the’- wait.”
And suddenly all of Danny’s unexplained absences made perfect sense. All of his half-assed, frequently missing homework assignment. All his friends’ incessant worrying. His complete disregard for his own life. All of his bathroom breaks- which had become such a commonplace occurrence that Dash had heard Lancer mutter quietly under his breath on a fair few occasions about getting him to talk to a doctor about his apparent bladder issues (it made Dash feel no small amount of guilt to think that he had even considered teasing Danny about that).
Because the reality of what Danny had said had just hit him like a freight train at the speed of light.
And so Dash uttered, in the tenderest of baritone whispers:
“What the fuck? You’re Phantom? You’re Phantom? How the actual shitting dick fuck did I not fucking see this before? You look exactly the fucking same.”
Now that Danny was not acting in the heat of the moment and was now aware of the implications of what he had just revealed, he was looking a fair few shades paler, and sporting a rather bewildered expression.
“Wait shit, no. Uhm- fuck- wait, I meant like- y’know… ah shit I’m screwed.”
“Hang on- you have a nightlight?”
(Danny was pretty surprised that he had remained on the topic of Fenton and Phantom for such a brief moment- which could be a cause for relief, or a cause for distress as he might be going into shock. But still, trust Dash Baxter- however considerate he was being at the moment- to focus on the more embarrassing of the two.)
He really was screwed. Jazz was right- being impulsive was the last thing anyone needed from him. Turns out it took telling the worst human teenager he knew two of his best-kept secrets for him to realise that she had a pretty good point.
Nevertheless, Danny decided that he could dwell on the fact that he had agreed with his psychoanalytic sister for once in his life later. Now? He had to claw his way out of the hole he’d just dug himself into.
Too bad his rational side had shown up late to the party. He hadn’t just dug himself into this mess, he’d buried himself.
“Yeah, I guess… please say you’re not changing your mind on the whole ‘moral compass’ thing, because this’ll ruin me.”
“I know,” Dash spoke with all the clarity of a middle-aged, vegan coffee-shop hippie with a guitar who’d just discovered a way to save the rainforest, “I also know the reason why you have one and, not gonna lie- it’s pretty fucked-up. So, I think that, by teasing someone about something that fucked-up, I- by extension- would also be pretty fucked up too.”
Danny was surprised in a good way for once in his half-life. He wasn’t being made fun of for this by Dash even a little bit. And, although it wasn’t because Dash liked him in any way, it was a start.
Baby steps, he told himself.
“And hey, Danny? If… if you want some help looking for that light, or, hell, if you need someone to help you get a new one, I’ll be here. I really do owe you one- you’ve saved the town from ghosts and put up with me and my friends’ bullshit every day for ages. And, besides, you’re really not all that bad, you know- as Fenton, I mean.”
Dash had made it sound as if he was just paying his dues or something, but Danny had a sneaking suspicion that that wasn’t the case. For a second, he had even forgot that Dash was talking about his nightlight, because it had sounded an awful lot like he was offering Danny his companionship.
He hoped (what a rare thing for him to do) that maybe, maybe, he and Dash could become friends someday. It really would be a nice change.
So, they stood silently in the empty corridor of Casper High School, both gazing into the blue orbs of the other and, for the first time in what felt like years, Danny Fenton smiled.
And Dash Baxter smiled back.