Work Text:
There’s something off about Fenton.
There’s something about that boy, ever since freshman year, something deeply wrong going on with him, and the whole school knows it.
It starts with little things during Danny’s freshman year.
Out of the blue, he becomes clumsier, breaking things left and right, tripping over his own feet and even once — rather embarrassing accident really— falling feet first in a toilet bowl.
But as time goes on these little accidents stop and with them comes an even bigger change.
At first, most Casper High students that give a crap, or consider Freaky Fenton their personal entertainment of the day in an otherwise dull, ghost-infested routine, think nothing about the abrupt height gain. After all, they’re teenagers, it’s not uncalled for kids to grow like beanstalks. But when Danny goes from 5’2” to 6’6” in a couple of months, they gotta admit something’s not exactly right with him.
He’s still the same old awkward nerd he’s always been though. Height or not, he still gets the short end of the stick with one asscrap of a quarterback by the name of Dash Baxter.
The changes don’t end there though.
Paulina will deny vehemently, to her last breath, that she keeps an eye out for Danny Fenton. She doesn’t like him, not really; he’s too much of a nerd and a loser to be on her radar.
And yet…
Perhaps her sudden interest in him has to do with how many classes they share. This gives her the unique opportunity to witness Fenton’s freakishness up close daily.
It’s how she knows that he sleeps throughout English class more often than not. It’s how she knows that he has a bathroom problem , running out of the classroom abruptly even if they are in the process of writing a test.
But more importantly, it’s how she knows that his breath mists even if it’s warm inside and his eyes shine a radioactive green when the light catches on them just right.
She has a theory, which she shares with the rest of the A-listers: Danny Fenton is being experimented upon by his nut-job ghosthunting parents.
It’s plausible, right? Else how would one explain all the weirdness that surrounds him?
Dash and Dale agree with her but Star and Kwan are sceptical.
Hmpf. If they can’t appreciate her genius it’s their loss, really.
Kwan doesn’t believe that even someone as crazy as the Doctors Fenton would experiment on their own child. His theory is simpler. All this ghost attacks nonsense is messing with everyone’s minds and it’s all a mass delusion that just happens to surround a scrawny nerdy child.
After all, they’ve all witnessed multiple times absurd— impossible— things like the Wish Ghost that can wield literal reality-altering magic. It’s not a stretch that someone wished for Fenton to become even freakier than he already is.
He doesn’t put it beside Dash or Dale to do something like this for shits and giggles and then forget about it.
And okay, Kwan doesn’t really agree with all the nasty crap Dash pulls on Danny but he admits it’s really fun watching Dash all stuttering and nervous around the much taller Danny.
Still, spell gone wrong or not, Fenton is objectively freaky .
It’s not until the day he catches Danny changing into his gym clothes in the locker room, that his whole theory crumbles into dust.
Usually — and that in itself is odd as well— Danny changes way before anyone else for gym class. Today though, he’s running late, rushing into the locker room like a man possessed and slamming the metal door behind him. Equally fast he scrambles out of his usual NASA hoodie, removing with it his undershirt.
Lightning scars — Lichtenberg, Kwan recalls that they are called— span from his left arm to his torso and back, reaching as far as his navel and neck.
Kwan has to do a double take because, first of all, What? And secondly, are they glowing green? Yep, they are.
Danny glances at him— he’s been staring, hasn’t he?— and winks knowingly at him. He fucking winks!
What does that even mean?
Maybe Paulina was right and some unethical experimentation did happen to him. Maybe, again, there’s something entirely different at play none of them is capable of comprehending.
“Have you seen his ears?” Star hiss-whispers during lunch break.
All the A-listers sans Valerie who’s been kicked out for being poor— it’s quite unfair if you ask Star— are gathered at their signature table, munching on the absolutely gross cafeteria meatloaf.
“What about Fenturd’s ears?” Dash speaks around a quite frankly, gross bite of meat.
“Oh my gosh,” Paulina exclaims and quickly lowers her voice when she catches the inquisitive glances of the students around them. “I thought I was the only one that noticed!” She takes Star’s hands in her own and shakes them excitedly.
“Will you all tell us already?” Dale asks boredly, playing with a stray pea that somehow made it in his meatloaf.
Star leans in conspiratorially. “So,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “Fenton’s ears have been getting pointier by the day.”
Paulina nods seriously, “He’s even started wearing beanies the past week. No doubt trying to hide them.”
“So what?” Dash raises a brow, “We already knew Fentini is a freak.”
“Oh, my gosh, Dash,” Paulina shakes her head, “Don’t you see? He’s turning into a monster one freaky mutation at a time.”
“And who knows where it’ll end?” Star adds as an afterthought and then shudders at the mental image of a monstery Danny going on a rampage because he’s had enough of Dash’s bullying. “Dash, maybe stop bothering him for a while, yeah?”
Dash snorts and crosses his arms, “Monster or not, Fenturd is a weakling crybaby and he’ll always be. And I’ll beat him up, like always, until he knows his place. Wait and see.” He pauses for a bit, thinking. “Besides, if he goes bananas Phantom will stop him!”
In the corner of her eye, Star catches Danny smiling a too-sharp-toothed smile at Dash. It’s almost like he can hear him spouting macho bravado.
Yikes.
Danny can’t say he’s having a blast going through ghost puberty at the same time as regular puberty but it does have its upside. Quite frankly, he doesn’t mind how uneasy he makes the A-listers feel (except Dash who has no fear of god, apparently), and listening to their wild speculating is fun in itself.
So despite how uncomfortable he feels being stretched into a beanpole of a human(-adjacent) and of growing fangs and claws and, well, his ears growing pointier not unlike a vampire’s, a mischievous part of himself that’s being fully endorsed by his two menaces best friends, wants to mess with the A-listers some more.
It starts with strategically showing Kwan his death scars. Okay, that’s a lie.
To be completely honest, Danny was fighting Technus in the break between math and gym class and it took him a bit longer to trap Nikolai in a thermos than he thought it would. Hence, Kwan ends up seeing the glowy lightning pattern that adorns Danny’s skin. He can’t complain though, it did wonders for the rumour-mill to start spewing absurd theories (like the one saying that he’s been struck by lightning [semi-accurate] and that he’s been replaced by a parasitic alien [what the everloving fuck]).
The too-sharp smile he flashed Dash, even if the knucklehead didn’t notice it, was planned though. Okay? Sam, Tucker and Danny were giggling over Star’s terrified and mildly concerned expression for the rest of the day. Also that day a rumour starts that Danny’s secretly a day-walking vampire like that Edward dude from Twilight. Congrats on the creativity, everyone! You could have chosen Blade but noooo, it had to be Sparkly Dude.
Later, over Nasty burgers and an extra vegetarian super deluxe salad (for Sam, of course) the trio schemes and plots how to get back at Dash’s relentless bullying. And thus, a sort-of plan is formed!
Wes Weston considers himself to be really smart.
It’s everybody else who’s stupid as bricks, in his humble opinion. How else could they possibly believe that Fenton is a vampire? Vampire??? Honestly??? Out of every possible theory, he’s heard the past few months, this one has to be the stupidest.
Can’t they see that Fenton and Phantom are the same person? It’s clear as day!
Around the same time Fenton gained that absurd amount of height— and honestly, it looks like it hurt a lot— so did Phantom. Phantom grew fangs, same as, of course, Fenton, etcetera etcetera. Wes could be talking about it the whole day.
And yet, nobody believes him! Even when he presents photographs of Fenton and Phantom everybody just laughs at him! It’s not fair!
He takes it upon himself to gather all the proof one might need for those massive idiots to finally see the truth. That’s precisely why he’ll become Danny’s shadow henceforth. He won’t leave him alone not even a second; Danny requests to go to the bathroom to fight ghosts? Wes will follow.
He knows he’s acting a bit obsessive , but the truth must come to the surface no matter the cost.
He doesn’t even last a week.
It’s been going relatively well, even if Wes’s grades suffered a bit during that time. He manages to snap several more photos of Fenton’s glowing eyes, his too-sharp smile and the pointy ears he’s been hiding under his black beanie. Wes also manages to capture Phantom in a video. It’s a bit staticky and Wes definitely doesn’t recall Danny having so many arms but there are some great shots that show his fangs and the rumoured Lichtenberg scar that’s on his left arm. Thank you Skulker for being so brutal!
On the way home from school, Danny takes a sharp turn in a creepy, trash-infested alley and without sparing a second to think it through, Wes follows.
He’s expecting to see Danny change into Phantom or maybe go invisible to evade Wes —it wouldn’t be the first time— but…
Danny is standing between a brick wall and a dumpster, arms crossed before his chest, looking straight at him.
“Drop it, Wes,” he says in a low, and quite frankly intimidating, voice.
“Never!” Wes counters defiantly.
Danny cracks his neck, pupilless eyes glowing a toxic green. “You’re ruining the fun, Wes.”
“That’s all this is for you? Fun?”
“No,” Danny says but his mouth isn’t moving. Eek! How’s he doing that? A grin splits his face, too many and too sharp teeth showing, a lime green tongue barely visible behind the rows and rows of teeth. “Listen,” Danny speaks with his mouth now, “if you don’t want both of us to end up locked inside a GIW facility, you gotta stop.”
Wes sniffs. “Both? I am not the one pretending to be human, Fenton. And besides, it’s gonna be your own fault if you get caught. You’re really going all ghost in school.”
Danny sighs and closes his eyes. When he opens them again they’re their usual blue colour.
“I can’t really help it, okay? I’m trying to minimise who- who sees something . And it’s not like those stupid vampire rumours-”
“Thank you!” Wes blurts out.
“Uh, what?”
“The vampire rumours! They’re stupid!”
“Ah,” Danny rubs the nape of his neck awkwardly, “yeah, they are, aren’t they? What I was going to say though, is that they have no basis, and it’s unlikely those idiots in white will connect them to… you know. It’s more likely they’re gonna think it’s just some stupid teenage thing. So please, Wes, delete all the stalking footage you got of me. Please. ”
Wes gulps. He’s never seen Fenton look so scared and serious. So human.
“Okay,” he says reluctantly.
“Okay?”
“Don’t make me regret it. But you gotta stop-” he waves abstractly in Danny’s direction.
Danny gives him a tight-lipped smile. “After I scare the living shit out of Dash.”
“I can live with that.”
Dash definitely deserves what’s coming for him.
Dash has— however reluctantly— to admit that he’s very much not in control of the whole ‘bother Fenturd’ situation.
It would be a lie to say that he’s not intimidated by the nerd and all the weirdness that seems to surround him. But he has to ignore the instincts that scream to him ‘run run run run run’ whenever Fentonio exists in the same room as him unless he wants to end up a social pariah much like the loser in question and his friends.
That’s why Dash sucks it up , as his father likes to say, and continues pestering Creepy Fenton hoping that no one will see through his carefully crafted facade of macho bravado.
It’s one of these endlessly boring days in Casper High, where the absence of a ghost attack has the teachers metaphorically shoving the teaching material down proverbial throats— or whatever— that Dash decides he has to try to shove Fentrash inside a locker. He won’t fit, Danny’s too tall and too broad to after all, but Dash has no doubt the attempt itself will grant him at least some popularity points.
Problem is, he has to find Fentini and that is often somewhat of a challenge in itself. The nerd, despite his height, tends to be extremely slippery.
Dash’s eyes catch the silhouette of something vaguely Fenton-shaped moving quickly towards the locker room. Realising it gives him the perfect opportunity to enact his plan, Dash gives chase, silent on his feet, a feat acquired by years and years (some months, really) following Phantom (for the epic fights, of course. Nothing stalkerish going on, nu-uh, he swears.)
The locker room is bound to be empty at this hour— gym class is done and over for the day and sport team practices don’t start till school’s over anyway. Dash would like to have a bigger audience, that much is true, but he can’t miss a chance like this to put Fenturd in his place.
He enters the room, slamming the door behind him loud enough for any curious bystander to catch the bait and open it to witness the spectacle that’s about to happen. He puffs out his chest, strides big and confident, and…
In the middle of the room stands Fenton, his back turned to Dash.
The lights up above their heads crackle ominously and a static hiss reverberates in the air. A laugh, echoing and hollow leaves Fenton’s lips as the much taller— gosh, was he always this ginormous? — boy turns to face the jock.
The toxic green vastness that leaves no room for sclera or pupil shines brightly, a smile too long, too sharp, stretches out human skin in an unholy grin and myriad arms, shadowy and malformed glitch in and out of existence behind the thing wearing Fenton’s body.
Dash gulps audibly.
Phantom will come and save me, Dash chants inwardly as the creature tilts its head in question, the angle impossible— painful.
That creepy Cheshire grin parts, a lime green tongue licking stretched chapped lips.
.
“P̷̼̎̅͑͋͒͝h̶̬͔̟͍͉͓̗͈͇͂̊́̈́̍̓̅̀̿̊̀͂̕͘â̷̹̂̓͗́̽̈́̌̍̓̒̆̐͋͝ň̶̡̩̻̻̖̦̮̱͚͋͐͌͗̇̈́̿͠͝͝t̴̢̧̨̘̰͚͈̹̳̺͛͆͑̍̽̐o̸̰͒̓͊̉̿͋̽̀̓̾̓̚͠m̵̻̫̠̟͚̼̓́͐̔͒̋̑̈͌͘̚̚͠͝͝’̴̢̧̟̝̞̥̳̈́̒̃̊͒̌̌̋͝ͅs̵̠̜̤̯̙͉̺͈̠̽́̀̏̈̇̄̾͘ ̵͕̱̫̉̈͌͐͛̀͐̅̎́͝n̸̹̠̭̰͇͗̄ǒ̵͇͕̰̭̰̝̱͊̆̂̿̒͛͂̏̎t̶̢͚͙͈̼̜̖͎͎̻̗͎̝̼̊̿̍͋̚͘ ̴̛̛̜͖̰̽̏̓̌̑̔̓̽́̽̈͜͝c̴̢̡̥̳̙̻̦̤̝̯̗͍͇̺̍ͅo̵̧̢̢͉͇̪̪̗̬̝͗̅̏͐̑͒̚͜ͅm̷̙̫̪̼̒̓̓̽̃̅̿̎̚͝į̷̣̅͆̇͐̑̓̏͒͛̅̉̈́͂͌̕ņ̷̛̠̭̽̀̉̎̄̍͘͠ĝ̵̨̧̖̞̭̙̼̠͖̥̮̙̻͎̀,̶̛͖͚̬̠͔̬̔̾͒̐͆̉̀͒͠ ̶̝̏͌̇̀͗̈̚Ď̷̰̼̼̟͓̤̫̣̙̈́̊̀͛̀̈́̿̇͂ͅå̵̡̗̯̼͙̳͎̥̦̺̓ͅͅs̶̨̧̨̧̖̙̰̩̗͎̔͒̌͂͒͜ͅh̷̛̞͉͉̣̞̦̜̀̀̈̆̓̊̐̚ͅ,̷̛̻̹̟̹̆̈́̾͑̓.”
An involuntary whimper leaves Dash’s throat. A step, two, three and he’s backed against a wall of stinky lockers.
The creature cackles in glee.
“Y̵̡͕̤̍̌͝o̶̤̩̤̹͒́̌u̴͓̐'̶̠̼͂̆̊͑r̶̤̼̮͓͑͝e̶͕͎̖̫̋̊̈́̄ ̷̥͒̓g̸̮̘̳̎̿ó̴̲͈́͜ͅǹ̶̨͔̱̜͑̕ņ̵̿́͂͊á̶͍̬͋̈́ͅ ̷̥̲͗̇̀l̶̫̻̜̀ë̷̢̱̤̪́̈́ḁ̵̂͑v̶͍̻̥̦̔̔͌̔ë̸͓̤́̂̀ ̸͓̥͂͗̔̍F̶͖̺̂͠ẻ̸̩̦̅͜ṅ̷̞̮̿͗̍t̶̜̼͎̔̚o̷̮̣̔͜n̶̛͇͕̎͝ ̸͚̗̎͝ă̶̢̭̲l̸̙͚͉̓̓̉͂ö̸͇́͑̆n̷̠͉͇͂̈̕e̴̡̯͋̔.̸̦̩̄ͅ ̸͓͂͂́̍Ŭ̵͕̱̬͌́n̶̫͛̀̃ḓ̶́̓͊̚e̴̮̘̪̒ṟ̵̻͊̒́́ͅs̴̢̱͒̅t̷͓̓͂̓o̷̗̭̱̤̽ǫ̴͈͛͌͆́d̷̺̻̟͙̄̍͊?̴̥̰͇̀̔̐” The creature stares at him with cold dead eyes. When Dash is too frozen in fear to respond the evil monstrosity in front of him continues:
“I̵̡̡̨̨̨̢̛̱̱̫̱͎̩̹̩͈̙̮͇̮͇̤͙̱̗̲̩̦̥̠̙͓͖̮̠̭̞̗̣̭̘̳̹̻͙͒̾͒̋͆̒̄͛̄̓́͜͜ͅͅ ̷̨̡̢̢̫͚͔͍̥͖͙̯̬̹̱̣̩̘̠̼̟̹͓̹͍̙͓͔̥̜͖̯̹̰̦̥̟̩͖̭̰͍͍̫̫̦̠̥̱͔̔̾̑̉̐̽̽͒̓̋̓͒͐͒̋̑̌̔̒̊͌͒͒͂̊̇̽̎̈́͐̚̕̕͜͜͜͠͝͝ķ̶̧̢͓͚͓̳̜̣͇͕͚͇̟͎̖͔̟̫͎̖̳̯̬̰͉̘̤̣̙̮͚͚̗̤͈̙͉̲̺͕̼̫̖̦̀͌̓̃͒͠ͅņ̶̧̢̧̨̢̛̛̖̤͉̥̬̣̘̘͍̞̯̼̻̫̬̻͙̟̞̪̹͕͔͉̣̠͈̮̯͖̼̪̪̲̱̘̲̦̣͙̺͈̥̣͔̆̎̉̉̐̑̾̿̎̐͌̂͛͌̈́̏̅͆͂̄͐̍͆̎̀̔̋́̎̿͛͂̐͂́͘͘͝͠͠͝͝ͅō̷̢̧͙̩̱̺͉͙̪͉͎͙͖̫̲̹̪͕̙͙̠͇͚̳͎̭̬̱̲̜͎̱͗̔͌͋͘̕̚͜w̶̨̡̢̧̧̛̤̮̮̼̤̪͔̲̳̯͕̮̩̻̖̫͇̦̪̻̪̲̯̗̺̲̮͈͍̦͎̹̝͈͉̰̯̹͍̳̩̞̮͊͋̽̎̔́̈̄͌̔͋͐͋͌̆̏̽̈́̀̀̒̌̍͌̐͋͋͑́̆̚̚̚̕͘͜͠͝ͅͅͅ ̷̨̛̙͎͔͕̿̂̍͒́̀̐̐̇̇̏̊͌̒̽̑̅̑͑͒͑̃̍̂͋̓̿̀̅̋̎̐͋̒͒̇͘̚͠͠͝͠ẃ̶̺̳̳̋̎̊͋͒̾͛̈́͝͝͠͝h̴̢̨̛̛̝͖̦͎̭̤̟̤̹̟̩̯̳̻͙̞̠̼͕̲̤̬͙͎̗̺̬̜̱̘̥͎̟͉̝͙̞̼̝͎͖̿̍͋͆̒̇̓̈́͐͒̓̂̅̍̐̀̆̀̀̀́͆̈́̎̑̈́́͗̀̂́̒̍͋̅͌̒̈̉͗̉̍͑͐̋̚͘̚̚̕͜͜͝͝ͅͅe̸̢̡̢̛͙͍̞̱̬͓̩̬̜̠̪͉̞̞̙̝̣̳̰̠̜͙̭͚̲̦̺̹̻͎̦̫͙̩̰̱̦̼͕͇̥͎̰̯̰̋̑̓̽͋̀̂͂́̅́̏̒̃̍̅̔̐̊̒͛̾͋̽͋̓͐̾̌̄̌̑̃̃̾̈̕̚̕̚͝͠ȑ̴̢̧͎̤̜̙͉̙̗̮͎̠̙͉͉̻͙͙̪̙̫̼͙̪̉̽̊̎͋͛̍̋͊̑̆̾́͒̂̀͆͘̚͘͝͝͝ͅę̸̨̧̡̡̡̹͎̠͕̖̩͚̞̼̞̦̥̦̺͔̯̩͔̬͔̘̻̰͖̩̱̜̣̠̥̲͚̺̻͙̳͚̊͒͗ ̵̢̧̛̼̮̼̘̙̬̮͖̜̤̥͈̣̣̫̗͚͈͇̘̫̼̩̱̰͈̺̃̿̇̉͂͊̂͐̍̿͌̊̍̅̓̈́́̽́̀̏̀̓͛́̈́̑̂̎̋̒̽͌̓̀̆̀͗̄̈́̔́̕̕̕͝͝͠ẏ̷̧̨̢̨͍̞̳͚͍̫͓̬̼̜̻̼̜̖̪͖̾̄̀͑͛̿͆̈́̆̒͗͑̍̒̈́̈́̿̓́̉̔͊͂̀̓̾̈́̋͂̅̅̌̃̋̎̀̓̓̃͛́͗́̏͒̓̃̚̚͝͝ͅͅõ̸̗͒̓̚ŭ̷̧̮͙͙̜̲̙̠̩̮̘̠̬̩͎̰͍̌̀̽̄͐̋͐͆͊̊̒͗͑̑͘͝ͅ ̶̨̨̬̠̪̗̹̲̠̞̳͎̲̫̻̳̺̭͇͔̼̣̯̭̲̣͚̠̪̖̠͑̍̏̌̑̀̍͂̉͗̓̄̅̉͌̉̅̐͛͐́̌̑̑̏̓͛̿́̀͗̅̏͂̃̔̕͘͘͝͝͝ͅl̵̡̡̡̡̛͔͙̪̹̪̫̤͓͓͇͖̫͇̰̣͈̞͓̻̪͖͉̠̩̪̪̭̯̤͙̯̺̥̭͇͉̲̗̼̞͔̙͍̘̮̙̄̃̂̀̍̀̀̊̎̅̅͐̋͂̾̑͐̚̕͜͜͝ͅḯ̴͎͈̬̹̬̫̫̣̙͕̭̭͈̣͈͋̑̂̐̇͐̄̀̇̀̊̔̈͗͗̿̆̏̀̈́͐̍͗͒̇͒͐̎͘̚̚͝͝͝ͅv̴̢̡̢̧̢̢̖͎̰̘̘̟̟̤̮̱͙̱̝͔̥͉̫̼̹̹̖͎͕̳̲̭͕̳̱͎̦̲̺̞̰̬̲̖̦̠͋̀̅̄͒̊̆̔́͐̏̀̀̍̈͆̐̏͆͋͛̒̽̕̚͠͠͝͝͝ͅͅe̸̡̨̧̧̛̫͕͔͍͍̝̪͇͈̙͈̺̻̲̰͖̘̖̬̣̼̮͖̙͓̜͚͍̯̗̟͚̮̝͔͙͚̳̣͇͉̺̞̠̻̲͕̳̪͛͗̽̾̅͛̃͂̈́͌̒̿̓͗̎̀́̏̉̐͑́̋̊̽̊̈́́́͆̕̕͘̚͝ͅ ̶̢͕̼̥͖̜̯̖͎̇͊͗̍̔͛̽͑̅́͌̓́͂̈́̀͆͘͘Ḍ̶̛̖̦͙̏̏̽͊̈̀̅̈́͛̈̿̎̈́̓̋̄̏̈́̈́͂͐̒̍̕ą̶̧̺͕̗̟͖͙̲̗̹͚̗͍̞̗͓̘̲̔̏̍́̄͝s̵̨̡̡̡̠͙̲̺̘̻̼͔̭̜̠̫̣̤̝̹͔̗̤̠̰̗̫̗̘̦̥̺̱̯͈̥̼͖̬̞͉͙͔͙͕̙̀̎̒̌̽̐͑̀̃̇́͋͐̅̇̅̏̌ͅḩ̸̺̳̞̫̬̬̼̩̲̼̩̲̰̫̩̞̟̦̗̮̻̙̼͖̱͚͕͙̜͘͜͜ͅ ̵̧̧̧̬̻̥̲̞͔̟͚͇̯̞̜̞̝̟͇̮̝̩̞̮̣̺͈͉̹͍̳̞̥̞̻͎͕̜̪̥̖̱̝̱͉̻̻̳̀͜͜ͅͅB̸̧͚̦͈͔̹̗̩̖̰̤̥̣̝̰̞̱͇̙̹̜̐́̽͛͂͆̾̄̂̈́̄̓̓͑̃͋̃̃̆͂̽̊̇̀͊̌̽̓̄̈́̑̐̚̕̕͘̕ͅã̸̧̛̠̝͓̱̱̖̬̙̘̙͍̍̀̈́̆͆̇̽͛͌̂̔͗͒̀͌̂́͌͊̇͗͗̈́́͆͠͝ͅx̵̢̦̰͍̩̓̊̍̓̿̽̆̄́͐͋̅̏̌̚ͅt̵̡̧̨̡̡͙̟͓̫͓̝̪͔̮̥͇͔̟̤̦̟͙̳̏̐͂̾̓̒̏̈̓̿͂͑̇͘ę̶̡̡̱̼̼͍̱̺͓͖̜̦͔͈̋̏̍̃̇̈́̄͝ŗ̵̨̧̻͈̹͙̜͉̠̭͎̲̫̺͕̥̠̘͊͑̑̀̉̈́̐̆̓̋̊͆͑̌͂̅̈́̈́͆̀̔̿̐̓̔̐́̏͑́̓͘͘͠͝͝ͅ.̶̖͙͊͐̓̎̊̃̄̃͗͠͠ ̶̢̛̛̻̠͚̲̲̙̰̻̣̰̑͐͒̿͛̆̀̍͋̈́͂͗͆̐̓͆̈͐́̂̀̅̍̊͂̐̾̑̚͝͠͝ͅÃ̸̢̳̘̠̟̫̳̭̹̙͚͚͚͍͍͙͚͊̀̉͌̋̏̈́́̈́̂̉̏̆̅̅̍̑ṅ̷̢̧̧̨̛̛̲̦͙̳̟̮̺̘̱͓͔̰͔̙̥͇͎̣͕͎̺͇͙̼̝̮͚̯̻̩̗̝̻̣̪̣͇̬̠̙͓̰̣̭̼͍̣͑̿̽͐͆̓̎̌̎̆̔̿́̀̉̄́̌̃͑͌͛̑̏̽́̈́̄̋̂̔̋̒̀̔̒͘͝͝͠͝d̴̼͇̗͓̦̻̙̈́̃͌̍̊̎̒̉̄̚̚ ̷̧̡̠͔͈̘͕̰͓̺̳̤̯͎̺̹͚̖͎͚͈̙͍̥̙̲͈̜͈̣̏̑͜ͅͅn̷̢̛̖̫͐̎͌̄̑̈̽̾̍̒̌͊̓̚͘ơ̸̡̡̧̧̢̢̢̛̛̤̭͉͉̬͙̜̠͖̤͕̫̱͇̺̤̫̹̞̮̜͇͍̫̭̠͙̙̮͎͍̥̪̙͚̳̒̃͂̈́̽̌̀̓͂̊͂͌̑͌̍̑̌̊̈́̉̿̌̃̒̃̂͗͒̋͐̓͒͘͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅ ̵̧̛̛͈̠̺͎̹̺̜̪͔͕̼̻̰̰̭̈́̈́̑̆̅̓͑̍͑͋̓̀̍͋̓͒̀̋̀͑̊̾́̓̏̇͒̽͂̈́́̉̓͊̽̀́̒̚̚͜ớ̵̡̨̢̢̗̳̺̟̳͕͉͙̥̭̞̣̜͔̤̫͔̤͍͚͚̓̓̎͒͂̉̌̄̆̋̈́͒̊̊̀͊̎̽̇͋̀̽̏̽͆̃̈́̿̅̌̃͘͝͝͝͠͝ņ̵̰͚̠̱̝̭̰̻̬͔̺̻̹͙̙̪̣̠͍̯̣̪́͒̇͒̓e̸̢̛̺̞̤̠̲̰̦͕͖̮̟̱̓̾̈́̿.̸̧̧̢̳͙̜̺͍͈̜̘͓͔̹̬̺͚̞̗̮̺͍͉̳̪͓̣̬̬͓̟̮̝͇̮̩͖͇̿̓̇̋̎́͌̔̄̀͑́̒̿͑͋̾̈́̌̆̈́̑̏̈́̈̈́̓̽̄͑̚͜͜͠͝͝ͅ ̵̢̨̝̤͚̫̭̰̫̖̼̬̝̫̫̱̞̗̫̘̦̩̹̭̝̫̰̠̖̼͚̪̞̹̭̺̥͍̭̟̲̞͎̦͑̆̄̍̑̃̔̽͗̈͂̉̐̋̋͂́͌̌͑̀̅̔͗̀̀͋̆͜͝͠͝ͅŅ̴̢̡̛̛̲̫̺̗̟͎͖͔̜̥̜̥̹̝̣͍̫̱̹̭͙̹̱̺͍̥̏̋̍̀̂́͋̀̓͊̿̔̎̀̾̈͠͝͠O̸̧̢̤͓͍̲͇͖̪̦̺̗̣͕̭̱͙̯̯͎̝̞̤̱̰̞̙̮̘͓̼̳̬̟̳̗͙̮̱̔́̀͊́̏̾̉̅͆̆̄̊̃͛͌̅̋̿̓͒̏̈̄̋͗̆̆̅̄͒͛̽͆͂̀̏̓̍̔̀̓͗͘̚̚̚̕͝ ̵̧̨̧̢̡͍̘͎̯͇͉̮̺̟̪͙̱̠̤̰̙̹̠̰̬̣̥͎̜̹̯͕̘̣͔̠͚̻͉̻͇̖͈̤͗̾̿̐͗̋͆̉̍͗̄̀͗̇̏̏̄̈́̓́͋̑̂͛͛̉̚̚̕̕̕͜͝ͅǪ̵̛̛̦̺̲͔̦͕͎͍̼̳̤̟̩͇̂̄̔́̽̄̅̈̑̇͊̇̑̾̎̌͑̆̾͋͊̿̐́̐̊͑̎̋͆̊͠͠͠͠N̵̡̡̡͓̲̻͎̟̞͔̜̰͎̝̫͖͎̯͖͉̞̘̝̮̺̺̩̪̘̩͖̤̼̬̺̜̻̩̟̼̱͙̜͖̗̖̣͙͍̮̠̋̒̀̀̀͋̈́̐͋͗͒̏̆̑̽͒̌́̒̆́̀̏̈́̅̇̒̑̓̓̒̓̍́̊̐̚͘̚̚͝͝͠͝ͅE̷̡̧̢̛͇͔͉͎̜̺̝̯͎̦̮̦̠͔̻͎̱͍͇̭̜͙͇̜̙̙̝͓͚͔͇̯̝̹̪͕̹͈̼͓̪̖̞͎̊̀́́̔̍̈́̎̒̑͋͋ͅ ̷̢̢̨̡̛͕͇̰͙̪̻͈͈̫̳͚̖̫̤̱̫̫͍͍̙̱̘̱͚̮̞͍͇̭̑̐̂̍̒͌̋̎͐̀͗͊̈́̏͂̈́̑̉̀͑̒̈́̇̒͆́̀̐͊̄̇͐̍͆̈́̕̚͘͜͠ͅͅẄ̷̧̢̧̨̧̨̖̹̼̳̞̣̥̟̺̩͉̗͔̮̱͔̤͓͍͚̼̱̭́͒́̍͂̿̓͛̾̾̌͐̎̒̃̓̿͊̈́͜͝͝͝Į̸̢̻̜̥̭͚͔̯̳̞̟̟̞̪̖͖̹̭͈̩̤̳͇͎̜̪̮̻̗͆͌̄̀̈̽́͗͋̍̈́̈́̾͠͝ͅͅL̴̢̧̨̛͈͕̖̣̞̙̥̯̟͉̺͇̬̩͙̤̄̋̈́̍͗̓̌̉̏̓̓̋̎̕͝ͅL̸̛̠͎͓̬̳̗͕̺͒̈́̊̒̈́͛͐͗̑͊̓͆̓̈́̂̆̈́̋̋͑̈́̚ͅ ̷̧̧͉̤͍̠̮̗̩̠̫͚͎̯͕̱̤̻͖͚̜͕̱̥̗̹̼͋̊̈́̀͑̅̀̓̒͂͊̉̈́̍̍͋͗̈́̓̽͑̕̕͘̚͜͝͝C̶̡̡̢̨͎͓͖̦͕̝̙̭̪̲̪̠̘͓̱̮̮̙̘͙̳̳̝̬͓̗͙̜͕̻̱̗̞̰̖̊̉͆͜Ǫ̷̢̢̡̡̧̡̣͙̲͎̪̮̝͇̙̗͚̲̠̳̩̩̬̦͇͔̦̪̗̰̫͖̺̮̯̱̞͚͇̲̦͎̩͕̗͍̫͍̳̋̓̋͛̔̇̅͜ͅM̷̲͇̞̫̫̳̦͈͛̀̑E̴̡̧͙͉͚͙̜̤̣̟̫͉̤̳̬̣͈͍̣̞̬̣̖̙̦̹̤̘̺̻̮̟̙̮̻͉̤͈͙̬̘̠̎͒͑̂̉̀̈́̈̿́̎̔̃̂͂̃̈́̄̏̓̿͑̋̚̕̕̚͜͜͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅ ̷̨̡̧̗̘̫̪̘̱̳͇̦͍̮̣̜̦͈͚̲̪͙̼̟̭͔̦͇̙̩͚̘̥͙̜̮̭͉̂̓̉͑̆́́̆͊̿̈͋̀͊̄͌̏̾͗͘̕͝͝ͅͅͅṰ̶̡̢̛̛̗̮̩̦̘̘͍̣̈́͛̍̈́̎͆̎͌̀̉̄͆͆̉̎̿̀͗͗͗̔̑͆͆͌͗̑̀̾̅́͆̾̊̽̆͛͗͜͝͝͝͝͝O̷̫̱͔̖̻̮̭͙͖̒̔̒͑̃̂̆͌̋̒̎͒̈́́͐́͊͐͛͒͆̑̿̌̓̐̈́̉̈́̆͗̀̕ ̶̧̧̨̛̩̩̰̤͚̪̼̫̼̗͙̙̯̩͇̲̫̤̘͍͊͌̿̀̐̐̇̔̑̒̆̈́͛̄͐̌͋̉̓́̍̔̐͋̍̔͗̎̑͑͐̊̚͘̕͘͝S̴̨̗̜̱̻̘͇̜̥̜̜̳͙͙̫̠̺̪̖̈́̀̈͠͠Ā̷̢̧̨͉̻̱̩̗̲̳̞͎̙̱͍̥̜̠̖̦͖̥͕͔̼̝͓̙̺͔̗̬̺̤͉̠͎͙̺̫̽͐̾̎̓̅̽̑̓̈́́͒̀͊̀͆̌͐͗͌́̀̈́̐̂̌̈́̽̌́̋͐͆̓̇̓̄̏͆̚̕̕̕͘͘͠͝͝ͅͅV̵̡̢̧̨̧̛̛͎̱̩̠̠͈̬̪̦̝̬̯̥͖̬͙͉̰̲̝̩̙̻̯̬̤̘̠͙͚͚̦͙̥̗̠̝̠̘̺̰̮̺̦̭̋̇̈͋̔̆̒̎̀̅͒̃̽͌̍̾͋̾̑̈́̚̕̕͜͜͜͠͝ͅE̴̢̢̨̢̛̮̫̰̹̱̩̗̩͕̠̮͖̮̣̦̦̺̩͖̣͎̼͔̯̺͚̲̬̖͔̳̻͔͚̱̩͈̯̜̲̰̯̠̭̤̰̦̤̿̈́͌̄̓̔̽͐̊̓̽̔͊̈̔̂͑̇̂̍̀̃̐̑̃͐͆̀͆̐̒͐̑̍̒̀͂̚̚͘͘͠͠ ̶̧̢̹͓̞͇͎͉̺͇̼͉͙͖̳̹̜͉̦͍̈̓̓̀̈̈́͝Ỳ̶̧̗̼̤̦͍͉͓̣̝̺̣̠̟̜̤̩̮͍͉̳̲͕̘͙̯̺͈͉̖̠̖̮͋̋̇̈́̉̄͋̀͋̽̆̈́͊̍̈́̊̈́̏͑̇͜͜͝͝Ǫ̷̪̫̟͈̤͇̱̣̟̘̤̹̬̹̝͓̟̲̗͚̥̗̪͉̩̩̗̘͇͖̟͔̭̱̘̠̬͗̄͑̒̈́͑̑̈́̊ͅŲ̸̨̨̢̛̘̼̯̺̝̝̩̜̘͕͈̩͔̟͉̝͈̣͖̲͍̳̝̳̝͈̩̮̟͚̙͈̪̬̣̪͇̠̜͇̖̙̺̹̈́͋́̉̅̍̈́͊̆̀̔͜͜ͅͅ.̸̢̛̛̫̠̠̭̰̞̪̥̩̹̮̬̖͓̥̂̿͛́͒͛̎͛̉̿͋̈́̏̀̇͊̈́͘͠͝͠”
D̸̗̰̒ő̵̞͘ ̷͉̽͘ŵ̶̮͔é̸̖̅ͅ ̷̭̯̑͝h̵̙̯̑̅â̸̜͇͝v̵̡̭́e̸͖̾ ̴͔̠͌a̶̪͇͝ň̶͓ ̵̰̀û̷̗̫n̷͎̈́̃d̸̢̤̍e̷͇̙̓ŕ̸̦s̴̢͇͗͛t̶̼͕̿a̷͙͋̕n̸͍̍ḓ̵̫͗i̶̗̒ņ̴͊̿ğ̴̤?̸̢̓̈́
Dash nods furiously and the lights go out.
“That was siiiiiiiiiiiiick!” Wes applauds from behind the turn that leads to the showers.
“Thank you, thank you,” Danny bows theatrically. “Do you think I overdid it a dash? ” He prods at Dash’s unconscious form which he caught and gently laid on the floor before the jock could hurt himself badly.
Wes snorts at the pun. “Nah, he’s gonna be fine.”
Danny hums. “Well let’s hope he doesn’t suddenly acquire any brain cells because—” Danny cuts himself off and licks his lips nervously.
“He won’t put one and two together, Fenton. Don’t worry.”
“Let’s hope so.”