Chapter 13: Just the Beginning

Tomorrow is the first day of school, Danny's first step into life as a freshman. His high school career is almost here, unfortunately, and he couldn't wish it anymore that it was as far away as possible. Casper High didn't have a terribly great reputation, it's fucking awful actually, the public school has apparently had a bullying problem for years, as in almost four or five decades, since the fucking seventies, and somehow it still wasn't fixed. Principal's have come and gone, some even died while in their positions, and yet despite all of them, the misconduct between students has somehow been a constant. Isn't that what PTA's were for? He had no idea how it was still a problem, but somehow it was.

This doesn't bode well with Danny. The young Halfa has had a bullying problem for years, since sixth grade to be precise. He hasn't heard of anything good from the teachers, they're just average and none of them seem to stand out. If the misconduct and bullying problem has lasted so long, then it seems clear to Danny that the teachers either ignore it, or implore it.

Neither sound good to him, so no one can blame him for being nervous about tomorrow. Those are just the problems for his human half, none of the other kids have to deal with adjusting to life as a half-dead hybrid, and then deal with attacking ghost monsters almost daily. It's burned through his entire 'vacation', if it can even be called that at this point, and Danny can't believe his summer is already over. So much has happened, stuff he never thought would happen to him. Dying, fighting monsters, getting super powers, the pain.

Lot's of pain.

The pain is about as bad as dying. It sucks, truly. The sight in front of him doesn't exactly fill him with excitement for the future either.

Shirtless and in front of the mirror, for a far different reason than normal teenagers, Danny stares tiredly as his body. Cuts and scars, all less than two months old adorn a good amount of his upper body. He couldn't be more grateful for having a healing factor, pain doesn't last that long- longer than he'd like, sure- but he heals incredibly fast. Less than a week for broken bones, something he's gotten way more familiar with than he wanted to admit. Cuts and large gashes, another thing he's become acquainted with, heal in a day or two. Small scrapes? Hours. Bruises vary depending on intensity.

At least he was packing on muscles. Fighting monsters is far better exercise than lifting weights ever could be, and the beginnings of a four pack were starting to show. Not that he'd ever be able to show anyone, not with the disfigurements that come with them. A pity, really. He finally bulked up a bit, but it didn't matter.

Fingers trace along a large cut on his forearm that trails up to his shoulder, a lasting reminder of a giant praying mantis. His other arm has bite marks on the upper arm portion, bear ghost courtesies and all that. Next he moves onto one of the burn holes on his chest, fingering it tenderly, like it would still hurt. Sometimes it does. Sometimes they all do.

The marks on his back are numerous, more than he'd like. His arms don't really have that many, but it's still enough to force him to wear long sleeves. His legs aren't completely unmarred, but he could get away with shorts. Maybe. He hates wearing shorts though, so the option doesn't really register to him.

It sucks.

He's still part human though, he's not all ghost. The damage and fatigue piles up, the dark bags beginning to grow under his eyes are proof. Sore and stiff muscles pulsing with a wanton desire for rest. Well, that's what today was for. Rest and nothing else.

The two weeks following his battle with Skulker were relatively calm, the ghost incidents averaging to four a week now. Slowly the number is increasing, and the young Halfa is getting better, but not fast enough.

More and more, he's been using the Thermos, finding it easier to just capture them than to fight them at all. It's not like it's a permanent solution though, solo targets can be handled like that, the Box Ghost especially, it allows for quick settlements, but groups can retaliate after the first capture. And surprise attacks don't always have the best success rate, not with how varied ghosts and their senses can be.

Not once did what the ghostly hunter say leave his mind. Halfa, his supposed species name. A half-ghost hybrid, or in Skulkers words: abomination. Unnatural atrocity. Danny was still salty about that, if he ever saw the snotty little shit again, he'd let loose some pent up aggression for those comments.

Then there was the other thing he said. The other Halfa that was 'too powerful to hunt'. He so, so, desperately wanted to find him or her. To find out more about their anatomy, their situation. What's going to happen to him. He wanted to learn and be taught what the fuck was going on in his hectic half-life.

Danny turned around in and looked at his back, hissing at the ugly sight. The explosive, irregular star shaped scar from skulker at the small of his back healed well enough, two days and it barely hurt. Two more after that, and it was forgotten in lieu of more damage that accumulated. The large scratches from the rat were still there, a permanent reminder of his first fight. Large tears from ectopuses and their clawed tentacles, bites from wolves, gashes from two large cat ghosts, more blaster holes from Skulker. Seriously, fuck that guy.

The most prominent though, was the Lichtenberg figures that ran across his whole back. Emanating from where his core would be, they spread out across the whole of his back. The odd thing about them was that the other scars didn't overtake them. When the wounds healed, the figures were predominant over them, as if his death scars refused to be overtaken by mere flesh wounds.

Of all his scars and blemishes, Danny liked these the most. They reminded him of his death, yes, but in a way, it showed him that the rest weren't as important. That the other injuries didn't demand as much attention as the electrocution that forced him into hybridism. A horribly painful death that still kept his heart beating, and gave him gifts that others would kill for, that he had actually died for. The branching electric discharges that mapped his back sometimes glowed green, ectoplasm surfacing and giving away that something was wrong with the young human. One time, as Phantom, he had gotten the jumpsuit off to see if there was a difference, and they glowed brightly in his ghostly form. Even more so when he used his electrokinesis. He flexed his hand and small arcs danced across his fingers, and as if to prove his thoughts right, the entire scar pulsed green.

A small chuckle, dry and tired, escaped his throat. It ended quickly and he sat down on his tub and sighed. Danny really didn't want to go to school tomorrow. He didn't feel ready for it, not with all this shit going on. It felt like too much. He had school supplies purchased and ready to go, a new black backpack for the occasion, and even that allowance he so desperately wanted from his parents. No back pay unfortunately, but he didn't think his parents would go for that.

Speaking of his parents, they were beyond thrilled at all the ghost activity. Before their completion of the portal, they had to leave across-country sometimes to get new 'samples'. Now they could get them from a mile down the road. Or their own lab if they ever realized that the damn things kept coming to and from the fucking portal.

When the youngest Fenton asked his parents about putting a containment field of some kind on the portal, they reassured him that while it wasn't necessary, they already had one on it. It was all too clear to the Halfa that no, it did not work. He could feel the call, the pull, the need to go into the portal. Phantom desired it so much, but Fenton feared the idea. He was going to give in soon though, because as much as it scared him, the space explorer in him wanted to dive right in. It was a whole other dimension after all. There was only so much he could do against himself when three-fourths of his very being wanted to just jump in. So he decided, the next time his parents would be gone for a few days, he would go in.

Danny stretched and groaned, stiff joints and muscles popping and stretching as he prepared himself for the inevitable. This time, he could feel it coming. The bouts of pain were going to start soon, and he was ready this time. He phased the rest of his clothes off and neatly folded them on the sink. It was midday, and his parents were in their lab while his sister was getting some last minute cash at the library doing a tutoring gig.

It was a happy thought that he could at least save his clothes if he knew when he was going to be in excruciating, debilitating, ectoplasm induced pain-riddled seizures. It really wasn't that happy of a thought, actually. He frowned at what he knows will be a horrible next two or three hours.

The first spark of discomfort came, a prelude to the coming agony that would undoubtedly last for a while. A small shock, similar to heartburn washed through his whole body, lasting maybe ten seconds. He got up, wobbling on his feet and got into his bathtub. Another wave hit him, far worse than the first but he held strong and gripped the shower rail for support. Danny turned the shower on, flipping the nob to cold. He didn't want warm or hot water, the cold would soothe the burning ectoplasm as it seizured out of his body.

He stumbled onto the tub as the water came full force, barely muting his hisses of pain. The torment was slowly starting to build. He coughed up a mix of ectoplasm and blood, tears of the mixture streamed down his face and into the drain, burning his eyes and forcing them shut. He cried out as the throbbing ache of his core sent more and more. Soon he lost his hearing and sight as the concoction of his life and death blood poured out of his orifices. The ringing in his ears was only matched by the dull hum of the ectoplasm that bled out. A migraine formed in his head, further adding a pulsing ache to his already dulled mind. The strange mixture came from his ears, eyes, nose and mouth; unrelenting and continuously pouring out.

He was prepared this time, the preluding feeling was becoming recognizable, something Danny was ever grateful for. If it was going to be like this every time, then he could escape a situation and hide. Prepare and keep this to himself.

His hair flashed back and forth from white and black, unable to decide which half was to belong at the moment. Phantom or Fenton? He gripped the side of his metal tub, long cold fingers dug into the metal and even now he resisted the urge to scream with a gurgle. Toes curled, the nails scraping the hard tub, causing a screeching sound that sent shivers down his spine. Blue changed sporadically to green and vice versa; the whites of his eyes were red from blood and specks of green lined the veins of the sclera over the red. His back glowed as energy poured out of him uncontrollably, the Lichtenberg figures emitting the deathly glow in full force, small sparks of electricity and flares of ectoplasm breaking out of his skin caught his attention for only a brief moment of time.

As the energy ran rampant through his body, uncontrolled and uncaring for its host, his body burned and healed at the same time. Nerves are frayed and fried, then regenerated so he can feel it all over again. Muscles are imbued with so much energy they break and rebuild, torturing his sanity. Bones heat up and melt, before freezing and reforming again. Organs break down, too human and unable to process the power of the undead blood of ghosts, yet they are rebuilt with screams of agony and otherworldly power.

It's too much.

He fucking hates this. He hates this so fucking much. So out of control of his life, so damn torturous and painful. Why the hell did he have to go through this, he was fourteen! No one his age went through this, they worried about girls, friends, tests, homework; all in that order most of the time too. Him? When were the undead going to attack? When was he going to have an afterlife attack, or whatever the hell it was? Was someone going to find out about his scars and tell his parents? Was he really a fucking freak now? What if someone found out?

Who the hell could he trust?

"AHHHHHHH! FUCKING STOP!" It's only at times like these that he's glad his parents are down in their basement, ignoring the whole world, their own children included. They didn't have to hear him scream bloody murder, literally, as the conflicting energies of his body battled for dominance. For balance.

While they were in their happy, safe little bubble, their son suffered from their mistake. Sure, he had partial blame for pushing the 'ON' button when he was inside of the damn portal, but who puts it inside of the machine? Really? His damn father, that's who. Who leaves the other two-way authorization on as well when going on a trip? His damn father, that's who! Who doesn't realise they turned their own son into a freak of nature? His fucking parents, that's who!

Danny stewed in his dark thoughts for two hours, hating the whole world and everyone in it as he went through horrible pain that no one else went through. The cold water barely helped, but that it soothed the experience even a little bit was all he wanted at the moment. The young Halfa cursed the world, the town he's been protecting, the people in it, the ghosts who hurt him, his social peers, his family, and his friends. Anyone who's ever wronged him, hurt him, slighted him, he wished them this pain; all the while praying and begging for his suffering to end.

Bitter and spiteful thoughts die out as his brain shuts down, unable to keep the tortured teenager awake any longer. The cold shower relaxed his tired and healing body and mind as he drifted off to sleep, all too glad to be relieved of his torment.

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The video compilation of Phantom and Skulkers fight gained massive popularity in days. His photo, one far more clear and detailed than the one from his prior appearance, was even featured as the thumbnail. From the thumbnail, a magazine called Meta Madhouse used his picture as the cover. The title read, "Glowing New Meta Versus Robot". It wasn't very creative, but it caught enough attention, especially when a few photos of his abilities in action caught interest worldwide.

Metahumans are pretty rare at this point in time, a good number of them being villains and using their power for their own personal gain, and the few opposing them are labeled as vigilantes. Add on top of Phantom having multiple abilities, instead of the normal one, and the interest in him is magnified. So when one comes out of nowhere and starts fighting glowing green monsters and robots, several of which have eyewitness accounts and testaments, it garners some attention. News outlets, online forums, social media platforms, influential people and groups. Attention was now on the dead end medium sized town.

One such influential person is Vlad Masters: worldwide billionaire, business tycoon and entrepreneur. A man that stands at the heights of business and economic success, rivaled only by others like Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne. On any given day, the actions of a metahuman wouldn't catch his attention. As long as it doesn't interfere with his doings and operations, both public and private, he couldn't care less.

He would take notes though. Information is gold and green.

The problem with this new 'meta' is that he's in very familiar territory. Not only does he have stakes and claims on the town, his business Axion Labs is stationed there, along with several smaller avenues of profit. Even then, that wouldn't cause concern for him unless there was a break-in.

The Fentons live there, long time friends that he cares for. Especially his nephew and niece. Jack and Maddie Fenton, for all their ridiculous ghost bigotry and racism, can handle themselves. They have an armory in their lab that could level a city block. The zealous they've dived into is disturbing though, and it worries the man when he thinks about young Daniels and Jasmine's upbringings. Danny and Jazz however, do not participate or follow in their parents footsteps. No formal training like their mother, no hair-pin trigger finger with a 'shoot first, ask questions later' outlook like their father.

And he of all people knows that it's not a meta that caught people's attention. The billionaire would recognize the 'Ghost Zone's greatest hunter' anywhere. The pest, in the past had tried to hunt him, on account of being the only Halfa. Skulker learned his lesson that day, especially when he followed the little snot ghost back to his realm and thoroughly destroyed his lab as retaliation. To Vlad's understanding, it took years for him to recover. It still makes him laugh, revenge is truly sweet, and the hunter made a good example to the other ghosts of the infinite realms.

Don't mess with Vladimir Plasmius.

And to this day, the lesson holds stock and he isn't bothered, aside from some stray animalistic specters and ghosts. Even then, only the truly mindless ones attempt anything. Then they're ruthlessly crushed underfoot, sometimes literally for the fun of it.

While Skulker may indeed hunt ghosts every once in a while, he could not for the half-life of him, guess why he was chasing after this ghost child. The child, leaning closer to being a teenager, had to have severely angered the hunter. That was the initial guess, until he caught sight of the manic grin on Skulkers face. That annoying metallic smile that plastered his face only when he was on a special hunt.

The same smile he wore briefly when the buffoon tried to hunt him. Vlad Masters would never assume that there was another Halfa like him. The odds of that happening are slim to none, may as well be zero, and the man had long since given up hope that another would form like him. He also wouldn't wish it on anyone, it's a harrowing and truly testing process that costs far too much for the weak willed to attempt or live through. It's only through extreme and specific circumstances.

Vlad Masters rose from his chair and closed his laptop. It was the picture of the ghost teen that burned its way into his mind. The face felt so familiar, so close, that it genuinely scared him, and he didn't know why. He hadn't been scared in years, even now he hadn't reached the apex of his power, and he had already grown far too powerful to feel scared. To feel fear.

Hands clenched in anger as red sparks danced across his fingers. This required an investigation. One palm scan later and his portal was open, the endless green and black swirl of the zone opened before him.

As ectoplasm formed over him, conforming him into his alter half Plasmius, he stepped into the portal.

It was time to visit a certain hunter, and based off the thrashing he received from the young ghost, he knew where to find the defenseless blob. He had business in the zone anyway, and more often than not, he finds that it really is convenient to be able to be in four places at once.

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High in the sky, Phantom flies in the air, enjoying and relaxing his last day off. It's going to get busy soon. Ghosts seemed to prefer attacking at night so far, although the day time attacks have almost evened out for the week. It was troublesome when they came multiple times on the same day. He can handle it, sure, and he was getting better, but sometimes it's exhausting. Not all ghosts are the same, different bodies and species make for different ways they fight.

A cloud moved over him, engulfing him in the cold icy mist. It's comfortable. It was September in Illinois now, the third to be precise, and wearing warmer clothing is expected, so no one would question his choice of clothing till mid spring maybe. One thing to worry less about.

He was getting kind of hungry. After that episode, he flew up here to relax and calm down. Three hours up here has down wonders for his mood though. Dark and bitter thoughts aren't on his mind anymore, and his nervousness for his upcoming school life isn't as bad as before. It's still there, but he's destressed a fair bit since then.

Danny turns over to view the ground, or at least what's not blocked from sight by clouds. A rustling of leaves catches his attention, and the Halfa glances at his right hand. Now fully healed and in impeccable shape, his hand currently holds a medium sized tree. He gives it a dull look, the entire thing in his grasp had been forgotten, he doesn't even know why he brought it up here. A quick glance at the ground below reveals woodlands, uninhabited and no chance of injuring a bystander.

Fingers release their vice grip on the arbor, and it plummets to the Earth. It's huge, close to one hundred feet in height. In the back of his mind, from an old social studies class, a useless bit of information pops up in his head. A white oak, the state tree. It's falling really fast, and leaves are being torn from it at a rapid pace. Odds are that by the time it reaches the ground, it'll lose a majority of its foliage.

Danny didn't even feel it in his grasp, was his enhanced strength that strong? He needs a way to properly test his strength when in his ghost form. The weights he stole only work for his human half, and even then, they're going to become obsolete in a few months time. Electricity wasn't the only power he could use in his human form, his augmented strength is there as well. It is a far more inferior version of his ghost half's strength, but it was still better than a human's.

A minute later and a dull thud was heard, echoing for miles, the tree had landed on the ground, splintered and embedded itself into the ground. He was above a forest, so no one below would get hurt. It seems it does make a sound even if no one is around. Lazily, he reoriented his position back to view the sky. He still had things he wanted to think about.

His friends for one. They had been a touchy subject in the house, and thankfully, Jazz had kept clear of the subject. But he still thought about them, and even with his anger still being there, he was lonely. A large chunk of his life has been filled with their presence, without them it was weird.

It felt like he was dependent on them, not even the end of summer and he really does want their company back. That thought grated on his self-confidence. He would have to push past his discomfort and anger to rebuild what had been lost, and he didn't want their friendship ruined. It was just hard to do so, they had broken his trust and the Halfa was hesitant to trust again with everything going on in his life.

Danny frowned, tomorrow at school, he'd talk to them. Actually try and communicate to get their friendship back on track. No doubt, it would take time. Time, he again felt was too short. Everything was happening so fast these days. Ever since he got his powers, it's like he's been on the fast track, and there's hardly any breaks. One thing after another.

Danny let his hover end, and he started a free fall plummet back towards the earth. He let the wind push his body around until he naturally came to face the ground. He laughed, feeling adrenaline flood his body and give him a boost out of his gloomy sulk. Quickly he switched to a dive, gaining speed and using his own ghostly flight to aid in his acceleration. The faster he went, the closer the ground got. Phantom pulled up, angling his body and changing direction gradually.

Evening out parallel to the ground, Danny blasted off, burning through energy at an alarming rate. Faster and faster, the trees zoomed by beneath him, and the occasional tall one would need to be dodged. Unknowingly, his feet merged together to make a wispy tail. It was long, five or six feet in length and it slithered behind him like a snake.

When he stopped to 'take a breather', only then did he notice his missing appendages. "Whoa, where the fuck are my legs?!" He was near town, five minutes from his house if he's fast enough. His tail wiggled around in response to his panic. When Danny tried moving his legs, as if to spread them, they reformed back into his normal limbs. When he pushed his legs together, the tail reformed. It's an odd feeling. Not exactly uncomfortable, but not something he entirely enjoys. He finds it a little disturbing that flying with it is so easy, like flying with the ghostly tail was natural. "New ghost thing?"

The whole ghost half thing has already changed some aspects of him physically, like his teeth, but the tail thing caught him off guard. It seems useful, and he can accelerate faster with it, adjustment was needed. He smiled as he had another thing to test and play with. Maybe not tomorrow, but he could test it the day after.

Danny flew back to his house in a happier mood, feeling a little better about the next day. Just a little though.

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September fourth had finally come, a dreaded day for many, Danny Fenton included. The start of school, high school and the next four years of his life. It's an odd feeling, looking at the place he knows is most likely going to drive him up a wall, and he's forced to stay here for almost half a decade. That odd feeling… is most likely dread.

The weather, impeccable as any chilly September day can be, seemed to match the mood. There wasn't really that much of a summer, given the late start the Illinois school system has for their break. The last few months were experienced with an occasional heat wave, instead of full blown 'fun in the sun' weather. The state was located far north as is, and the timing just made for a bad match up.

Because cold and dreary is September through December, starting on day one of high school. It's a match made for the depressing.

The winds didn't bother Danny that much, especially since he's gotten used to flying at high speeds. This small amount of wind? Doesn't even chill him in his human form. The rain, more accurately called sprinkles, was hardly felt as well. It was the kind of drizzle that someone would have to try and get wet in, or stand out for hours on end. For normal humans, it undoubtedly made the weather even worse, but for him? Again, it all felt comfortable and he found himself enjoying it.

Dreary and depressing weather had somehow cheered him up and made the coming day a tad bit easier. He laughs to himself as he continues towards the school, no one even paid him attention. A perk of being the social pariah: no one pays attention to you, or rather, they purposely ignore you. The lower cast on the social rung at least acknowledged him, instead of outcasting him, and some would even be called, dare he say it, acquaintances.

That's about it though.

As he walked up to the entrance, he noticed that the front of the school was clear. No Dash or A-listers in sight, which is a given considering the weather. The front doors have students pouring in en masse. If memory, and the little sheet of paper in his hand serves well, then his locker was at the end of the main hall, right before the staircase. He had checked it out earlier in the week when the school email arrived. It had detailed his locker number, location, schedule, teachers for each class, and the required supplies.

His first of freshman classes included homeroom with a Mr. Lancer, who coincidentally, was his English class teacher for third period. Following homeroom came Art with Mrs. Meddely, he had absolutely no idea who she was, but he knew where her class was. After Art was P.E., physical education with Ms. Tetslaff. Danny had heard that she was a brutal bitch that heavily favored the jocks. The brute of a woman was head coach for all football leagues at the high school, freshmen, JV, and Varsity, so he could see why she was partial to them. After lunch came third period English with Lancer, and finally math, pre-algebra to be exact. Ironically enough, Tetslaff is the teacher of that class too. Great. The Halfa could only hope that Dash wouldn't be in that class with him.

Danny got to his locker with no interruption or call outs from the A-Listers. He had hardly even looked at the walls, and now with some minor comfort from his locker, he could take a look. Ugly green was recognized as the color of choice for the lockers, hard to miss even if you're not exactly looking for it. The walls though, why were they the same… vomit green as the lockers? The ceiling, a dull dark gray, and the tiled floor was a dirty white or maybe light gray; it was completely possible the interior decorator got fired over this ugly combination. Danny looked around for any sign that he would be ambushed, upon finding that the coast is clear, he turned his attention back to his locker.

So far so good, all he had to do was pick up his books and he'd be golden. Art, somehow, had a textbook for the class, and it was half the size of his algebra book. The combination was easy to remember, but he did fumble a bit when his hand turned intangible. Being nervous didn't help with controlling his powers at all.

Danny wanted to wait around and see if Sam and Tucker had lockers near him, but getting to homeroom seemed like a better game plan than waiting out in the open. Homeroom and English are located on the first floor, underneath the math wing. Five minutes later and he found himself in his homeroom seat, cheeks firmly planted in a seat at the back.

The classroom had posters and paintings of famous literature and plays decorating the boring and dull beige walls. The windows lining the wall were nice, plenty of tree cover left them out of the sunlight. Not too much of a view from the first floor though.

It didn't seem that bad, so far the only A-Listers in here were Star and Kwam, both of whom are the friendliest of the bullies. Star was more of a blonde satellite for Paulina, and Kwam was Dash's best friend, even though the guy wasn't a complete ass. He was almost friendly, but he still seemed to find amusement in tormenting those in a lower caste system. Danny couldn't really figure the guy out, it was like he was light-hearted, but liked to hurt people too. Danny didn't really have any interactions with Star, so she was just there. She's never said anything to him directly, but she was with the group that treated him like shit. It was difficult to decide if she should be on his shit list or not.

The warning bell rang out, testing his skittish nerves, and causing some of the nerds in the class to actually jump. Danny wasn't the only one stressing out, that included the rest of the new freshman. It's a tough thing, the first day of high school. For many, it can be the debut for their social lives. For others, that aspect was sealed long before joining high school. Like him.

Sam and Tucker too. On that note, Tucker walks in through the door and spots Danny, smiling at him weakly. Hesitantly, the Halfa waves over his friend. Tuckers smile brightens, now happy that his friend actually wanted to talk to him. With their names both ending in F, it was obvious they would end up in the same room together. Sam was by herself in a different homeroom.

Freshman year has three hundred and forty people, more or less. Ten different homeroom classes spread out students and have them segmented alphabetically. Casper High catered to twelve hundred or so teenagers, with an underpaid staff to match the students. Public education, as it turns out, doesn't pay well. It also isn't well funded.

"Hey man, how you doin'?" Tucker greeted Danny. It's stiff, like they haven't talked in months, which isn't entirely inaccurate.

Danny nodded curtly, "I'm fine." It's not easy to keep eye contact. His hand clenches once, then twice before he asks in turn, "You?"

The tension between the two is so awkward it could be cut by a knife. "Yeah, I'm good… are we good though? Like the three of us." Tucker takes the seat next to Danny's.

He made his decision yesterday, but he can't help but still be angry at them. He shakes his head, "I'm still pissed at you guys, trust me, but I want to salvage this. It's just gonna take some time."

It's not the answer he wanted to hear, but at least it's something. Sam and Tucker had been freaking out that Danny wouldn't want anything to do with them anymore. He's happy to hear that Danny still wants to be friends with them, but Danny still being angry isn't good. They'll have to work around it.

"Okay… what does that mean right now though? Like, are you down for some Nasty Burger later?" They needed to know where they stood with each other, otherwise it could blow up in their face.

Fenton shifted in his seat, debating the idea, before ultimately shaking his head. "Not today, no. Maybe tomorrow or the next day. That sound good?"

The tech geek smiles and gives him a thumbs up, "It's all good man, what about lunch? Stayin' in or dippin' out?"

"I'll have lunch with you guys." He taps his finger on the desk for a few seconds, before turning back to his friend. "How is the lunch here?"

Idle conversations continue through the classroom until the bell rings again. Right on cue, the teacher walks in. So bald it practically shines, his gleaming noggin adorns a middle-aged, pot bellied man. The well trimmed goatee doesn't look terribly great on the man, especially with the grey plaid pants, light blue dress shirt, and cheap tie. His look practically screamed public school teacher.

The overweight teacher clears his throat and slams his briefcase onto the front desk. The students jump in shock and all attention turns toward the lone adult in the room. "Good morning, Casper High teenagers. My name is Donald Lancer, but you all will call me Mr. Lancer." He ends his introduction with a smile.

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First impressions are important, and at least the man knows how to get attention from the hellions known as high schoolers. The rest of homeroom was a blur, the man passed out a student handbook and a syllabus, went over them, and then dismissed them five minutes early. He seemed decent enough, but only time will tell. After checking over each others schedules, finding only English to be matching, they split up to go their separate ways.

Danny was glad to be separated for a bit. He had gotten used to being alone all summer, and with Tucker and Sam still tempering his nerves, it was nice to finally be left alone. Which is ironic considering he was feeling lonely earlier.

Art seemed to be a win. The class was a bit out of the way and the teacher is a crotchety old lady who seemed absolutely enthralled with the idea of punishing everyone, or someone. She didn't try and teach anything since it was day one, but she pretty much told everyone to just draw. So long as he doesn't get on Mrs. Medley's bad side, the class should be a breeze.

Then there was P.E. with Tetslaff. The tall and butchy woman, if you can even call her that, had a husky voice to match, and the lady actually had a mullet. He had never seen anyone with a mullet before, besides the photo of his father, but seeing it in real life, on her ginger colored hair was hilarious. It took every fiber of his being to not make a sarcastic comment about it.

Sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt covered up his body enough, but the problem was changing. He managed it by jumping into a stall this time, but it won't work every time. With a large chunk of the freshman football team in his class, Danny had a hard time dodging Dash, Dale, and Kwam. It's fine for something to start in the open, Dash can't be entirely public about the harassment in front of the teacher, and there's no cameras in the locker room to record it. So long as he outlasts Dash, he'll be golden. Luckily, he can go invisible, so if Danny can sneak away, he won't be found.

The first activity of the day was push ups, something Danny had struggled with before, but not anymore. Ghost fighting has, in the few months he's been doing it, done wonders for his body. On top of actually working out, even if it is kind of half-assed, Danny has never been so fit before in his life. It's actually really nice to be able to keep up with everyone.

After push ups were sit ups, stretches, running two laps around the track field outside, and then there was dodgeball. Again, it's really nice to be able to keep up with everyone; it's even nicer knowing that he could outperform them as well.

ball, jocks vs. everyone else. Danny looks around at his team, nerds and normies. The only people on his team that Danny even remembers the name of are Mickey and Travis, two bottom liners like him. They both got knocked out, literally and in the game, within the first two minutes. Tetslaff is off to the side, looking at her phone and giggling every few minutes, completely uncaring for the beating her students are getting. 'I see.'

Danny kept dodging as his team was slowly whittled down. Eventually a ball came his way, and Dale was right in front of him, unaware. Bitter and hateful feelings rose up from his gut, and Danny grabbed the ball. He hated Dale. The guy was an asshole that was almost worse than Dash. Danny had been pushed down the stairs once before, and after digging around, he found a video going around on snapchat. It showed the douche in all his jock status, letterman and his name on the front and back, pushing him down the stairs. That had gotten him a broken arm and dislocated shoulder. Even after showing the video to a teacher, they had said there was no truly conclusive evidence of the boy in question being at fault. Literally, his name was on the jacket and the video was great quality too!

A small amount of ghostly strength crept its way into his arms, and he reared back. His eyes glow dully under his hair, glaring at the asshole who had hurt him before, just for a laugh. Muscles flexed and less than a second later, the ball was out of his hands and flying straight towards its target. Launching out at over sixty miles per hour, the ball makes a deafening smack. Dales head is rocked back and he stumbles backwards. One, two, three steps and he's on his back, out cold.

The silence in the gymnasium is deafening. Everyone, jock or not, stares at the bewildering scene of Danny Fenton, biggest loser of the school, knocking out Dale, the running back for the freshman team. Dash's mouth is open wide, unable to comprehend how his friend was down and out, literally. His eyes follow along to Danny, who looks back and shrugs. The ball rolls back to him, slowly, and he stares at it. Then back at Dash.

A dark grin pushes its way on his face and before he realizes it, he's already bending down to pick up the ball. If he ever decides to get back at Dash, which he will eventually, it's obvious that fighting him directly is out of the question for the most part. In private, sure, if there's no one else there to back up his story, then it works out. A fight in public? Oh no, he'd be framed as the instigator without a doubt. While he may have decided to not actually fight Dash, unless he's incredibly pissed off, it doesn't mean he won't get back at him. Dodgeball can be one of those ways, easily.

Dash's neck bulged as a vein made its way up, he screams, breaking the silence. "Fenturd! You're dead! You hear me?! DE-?!" His scream is interrupted by the dodgeball that Danny threw. It smacks him right in the gut, and the wind gets knocked out of him. He takes a step back and glares at Danny. The ball bounces back to the teenager, who is all too thrilled at another chance. It's snatched up and being thrown right back at Dash less than three seconds later.

The ball flies low, catching his leg and forcing him off his feet. Dash falls forward and lands right on his face. He rolls over and holds his nose, a bit of blood is leaking out. It's probably not broken, but it's definitely hurt. The quiet that was there before, returns twice as strong. Slowly, the angry and bitter feelings leave him, allowing calm and rational thoughts to return. Satisfaction and a little bit of righteousness replace the darker feelings, but Danny has a feeling that it's about to go south for him.

Danny looks around and takes the scene in before him. Two jocks down, all done by the bottom of the totem pole. This'll be making its runs by the end of the day. He frowns and looks over towards the teacher. There's no feeling of remorse of any kind in his body, the two asshats had it coming. He just didn't want to get back at them like this, especially since he has other options that don't involve physically hurting them out in the open like this.

Tetslaff finally regained her senses when her phone fell out of her hand. The resounding smack of plastic on cheap hard maple snaps everyone else out of their stupor. The teacher looked at the list on her clipboard, flipping through papers until she found her mark. An angry scowl made its way on her face, she glared up at the Halfa. Danny rubbed the back of his neck, but he kept his gaze locked with hers. "Fenton! Detention after school for injuring two classmates!"

Anger comes back in full force, "What?! It's not even that bad! And what about them?!" Danny points at the group of jocks, dodgeballs still in hand. "They've been pelting people whether they're in or out! Look at Mikey!" His hand moves over towards the nerd in question. His glasses were broken with a black eye and blood was pouring out of his nose. Mikey wasn't the only one that looked banged up, anyone of the 'nerd' status had been prime targets.

Ms. Tetslaff seems off put by the declaration, only now realizing that other students were actually hurt, but she shrugs it off. "They'll be going to the nurses, but since you've hurt the other two, I can't exactly keep them for the day can I?" It sounded smug to Danny, and it was becoming all too familiar to him. This had happened enough times in his life to know what was going on. This bitch was favoring them, they had done twice as worse as him to at least three others, and they were going to get off scot-free. She rather casually glossed over the punishment for the other school athletes, bringing attention away from them and back to the 'injured' jocks. It's an inflatable ball that weighs maybe half a pound, and that's pushing it.

"So I get punished because of it instead? That's bull and you know it. There has to be some punishment for them!" He knew that if this argument kept going, the sodding bitch was going to try and dig his hole deeper, but come on. This was ridiculous, they had to get some kind punishment.

Displeased at being talked back to, especially after the little twerp had hurt two of her star players, the tall and stocky teacher fired back. "I will not have that kind of disobedience, Mr. Fenton. And if you're so dead-set on punishment, you can have theirs as well. That'll be detention for the week."

He was going to blow a gasket. Unbelievable. To do this kind of thing so blatantly, it felt wrong, he felt wronged, and he hated it. This damn woman… Danny took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. Emotions were playing footsies with his decision making, his power increasingly crept through his mind with his anger, and arguing further with this woman would only be counterproductive.

He glared at her one more time, just to let her know that she didn't win, and he walked off towards the locker room. His stomps were loud, echoing in the still quiet gym. A short march later and he was in the locker room with a slamming door behind him. The crowd looked on for a few moments, taking it in. When Tetslaff finally reigned everyone in and the game was back on, hushed whispers were what filled the room.

What a great start to the year.

That wasn't the Danny Fenton they were used to seeing. For one, he had never been good at dodgeball or any physical education class. He had knocked out Dale and took down Dash. Then he backtalked a teacher, rather passionately too. Danny has more confidence than he did before summer, and it was put on display before the entire class. He had reason to be, yes, but this wasn't something they were expecting to see on day one. It was a shame they had to leave their phones in their lockers.

Danny was changed and out of the locker room in less than five minutes. It took a lot of restraint to not blow the whole place up. "I can't fu~cking believe this, and I have four more years of this shit? How great." There was no way he was going to those detentions, she can shove it for all he cares. There was also no way he wasn't going to try and get out of her classes, the spiteful bitch would no doubt mess with him non-stop. A growl escaped his throat, and he took his phone out. It was 11: 35, maybe if he went to the front office now, he could get a different math teacher. There wasn't really any hope of swapping out of his gym class, there couldn't be that many Phys Ed certified teachers at the school.

With twenty-five minutes until lunch, that gave him almost an hour to get through the process. The gym wasn't far from his destination, and a short five minutes later he found himself talking to the secretary of the Head of Departments, a short black woman in her forties named Ms. Gloria. She seemed nice enough, but he didn't know or care about the titles at the moment, so he just got on with his purpose.

Danny wanted out of her class, of both classes he has with her if possible. One interaction, one time talking to her, and he already wanted nothing to do with her. If he can beat her here and get the process rolling, maybe he can stop anything she can do. Not that she actually will do anything, she may not, but it still doesn't mean the Halfa isn't going to try and get out of her class. Danny relayed his intentions and wanted to know what he could do to swap classes with a different teacher.

The lady was forthcoming with what was needed, he had to talk to his guidance counselor and get approval from the Head of Departments. His counselor, Mr. Lancer, was out eating lunch on his break and would return around twelve. The Head of Departments, a Professor Jerry Tether, was in and could see him now. Danny was more than happy to get the ball rolling and the short visit with the man made him happy. The guy barely looked up at him, asked what he wanted, and had him leave. Professor Tether barely paid him a glance, but he agreed to his request easily. It was obvious the man just wasn't in the mood to bother with anyone, and for the first time, Danny was glad to be disregarded like this. So when he was waved off, and still had time left till Lancer got back, he went for lunch.

The cafeteria of the school was large and wasn't terrible on the eyes. It was bland and boring, yes, but at least it wasn't painted the same as the lockers. The school's crest, a black raven in embroidery, was painted onto the wall opposite to him. It was above the exit doors, and if memory serves, that way was to the courtyard. To the left was a long stanchioned off lunch line, ending in the middle of the wall. To his right had more doors leading back into school. The light pink floors were about the only thing interesting and the walls were left as unpainted maroon bricks. Since it was before noon, no one was in the cafeteria besides him. The lunch line was manned with some bored looking food workers, lunch ladies, and one cashier.

Danny picked up a tray and walked over to the start of the line. The groans of annoyance were a good indicator that not only were they bored, they also didn't like their job. A short few minutes later and Danny had his lunch, a boring looking chicken sandwich set meal. The food sucked, tasted like cardboard and was only good as a placeholder for sustenance. Hopefully being half-ghost helps with stomach aches, because Danny was positive that he was due for one.

With a task he still had to do, he made his way out of the cafeteria and back to the office. Gloria was still there, now with a lunchbox on her desk and a bowl of… something in her hands. It looked like spaghetti, but with short and stocky noodles.

Luckily, Mr. Lancer was in and could see him. The first thing Danny noticed of his office were the degrees lining the wall. The man was apparently overqualified for being a public high school educator. Along the wall lined a bachelors in Mathematics Education as well as one for science, a Basic Science Educations degree. To top it all off, the guy has a Masters in English Literature and World History. There were a few photos along the shelves, one of which had the guy in a leotard at what looked like a gymnastics competition?

"Ah, Mr. Fenton. It's nice to see you again." Danny turns to look at the Mr. Lancer, given that the guy was overqualified by quite a large extent, Danny made extra effort to show respect to the guy. Especially since he wants something from him.

Said Fenton nods back at the man, "Hi Mr. Lancer, you'll be seeing me later as well." Danny smiles and takes the seat in front of the desk. He wiggles around a bit to get comfy, it's always nerve wracking to be in an office like this. It's like he's a step away from getting in trouble, or maybe he doesn't feel comfortable asking for a class swap on the first day of school.

"So, according to the notes from Ms. Gloria, you desire a class change? I assume you know that it's only the first day, correct?" It's not like it doesn't happen, but it's not common that there's a class change on day one. Danny nods to affirm that he wants to leave, "Had a really bad first impression with Ms. Tetslaff. I know it's only the first day and all, but I can tell that she's not going to make my life easy in any of her classes."

Mr. Lancer nods in understanding. In his school days, life wasn't very easy for the less popular. "I understand where you're coming from Mr. Fenton, but do you truly believe there's no way you can get along with her?" The Halfa grimaces and shakes his head no. "Pretty sure there's not. She gave me a weeks detention for sticking up for myself. I don't even want to get along with her."

The older man rubs his bald head and sighs, how had the first day gone like this already? He'd have to talk to Melisa, he knew she could be skewed in her judgement, she has been before, but what warrants a weeks detention on day one? Lancer grabbed his cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair. "Can you explain everything that happened please? After that, I can figure out if I can help you."

Danny perked up at that, it wasn't often that a teacher listened to him. He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees, now far more eager with his goal now in sight.

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Dark boots tapped on the ground impatiently, and every minute or so, the wear of the footwear would check her phone, eyeing the time. She growled in frustration, before turning her attention back towards her friend. "I thought you said he would be eating with us today? Did he ditch us?" It hurt her to think that he would do that, but she was starting to get angry at the cold treatment.

Tucker put his hands up in surrender, "Hey, chill out. Don't bite my head off for this, okay? I'm just telling you what he told me. We should be glad he's willing to even try so soon Sam, it was all too easy to see that he was still pissed at me."

The goth relents, but she stabs her fork angrily at the romaine lettuce in her salad. Tucker turns his attention back to his PDA, bringing up his messenger app. A slap on his shoulder takes his attention, he groans and turns to Sam. She points at the doors on the other side of the cafeteria where a smiling Danny is making his way over towards them. He wasn't angry, uncomfortable or frustrated like the last few times his attention was focused on them. It's relieving and eases tensions between the two.

While Danny walked through the cafeteria, he gained attention. People turned and looked, whispering about what happened and occasionally pointing at him. It's not like he wasn't aware of what was going on with his surroundings, enhanced hearing is one of the many nice perks of being a Halfa.

He expected it.

But he didn't care, he was in far too good of a mood. Mr. Lancer has already earned himself a spot on the 'good teachers' list. The man had agreed to swapping him out of math, and his Phys Ed was postponed and he was swapped into a science class. Tetslaff won't be his problem until the second semester, but hopefully by then she wouldn't remember. His new second block was math now, taught by Lancer. Biology was now with Mr. Falluca for the fourth class of the day. At one point in the conversation, he had asked what classes the bald man taught in total. He taught one class for each of his degrees; it's no wonder the guy lost all his hair, he was a workaholic who didn't even realise it! That's a monumental amount of work and responsibilities, four different classes on four different subjects, all with twenty-five to forty students in each class. He's a masochist, no doubt about it, because that just sounds awful.

Danny ignored everyone staring at him and plopped down into the seat next to Tucker, across from Sam. "Heya guys, what's up?"

"Hey man, just gettin' done eating." He offered a fist bump, and hesitantly, Danny took it. Having been so mad at them for so long, it's hard to just go back, but he'll have to adapt.

"Hey Danny." Sam started, "I thought you were gonna be here earlier, where were you?" His smile faltered a little, something both noticed.

Danny sighed, but answered anyway: "I was in the office. I had an argument with Tetslaff, and I wanted out of her classes."

Sam relaxed a little, "Oh. What classes did you get? You might be in one of ours."

Danny took out his new schedule, printed on a piece of stiff yellow paper. "I don't have to deal with her at all, for the moment." That was something he was ecstatic about, and Mr. Lancer was already the best teacher he's ever had. "Art with Medley, Science with Falluca, English and Math with Lancer. The guy is our homeroom teacher and my guidance counselor, and I have two classes with him. Did you know he has four degrees?"

Tucker looked at the new schedule, but he wasn't in any of the new classes, English was still the only one he had with his friend. Sam compared it to hers, "We have Biology and English together, sweet." She looked back up, taking in the rest of his words, "He has four? Damn, that's a lot."

Tucker didn't seem to care, he gave a vacant nod and went back to mess with his electronics. He eyes what was left of his food, deciding it's best to be against finishing the 'food'. It didn't exactly taste great, and visually… It kind of looked like slop. It was supposed to be meatloaf, so why does it have the consistency of jelly?

Danny looked around the cafeteria, trying to find the particular trouble making group. The A-Listers were gone, not a single one present. This didn't bode well, especially since they haven't tried to mess with him yet. "Have you guys seen Dash and his followers? I pissed him off earlier, and they haven't tried anything all day."

The gothic girl looked at the spot she spotted them earlier, finding the seats empty. She looked back at Danny, "They were over there before, but aren't you being paranoid?"

Fenton shook his head, "I've been following my gut recently, and it's been helping. I got a feeling they'll try something…"

She couldn't deny that he had bad luck, but it's entirely possible that he was overthinking it. Not that there wasn't reason to be paranoid, the A-Listers have harassed their small group for years.

"So, how've you been doing? You kind of left on a hard note last time." Tucker winced, he told her she should have left it for now, but of course she didn't listen.

The reaction was clear enough, with the last of the smile disappearing he answered the question, "I've been doing fine. A few things I would change if I could, but you know how that goes."

Sam pressed on regardless, "Yeah, I do." Her parents were a prime example. "Danny… What did you mean when you left? That you're not okay?" The tech geek slapped his face, he couldn't believe she was going for this in the first actual conversation they've had in months. This was something they had to build up to, bull-headed stubbornness would help no one in this scenario.

A frown crept onto Danny's face, and his lip twitched. "That's something I'm not comfortable sharing with you guys. Maybe one day, but not now." It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but they're not anywhere near there yet.

And it really wasn't what she wanted to hear, "Come on, Danny. You can't say something like that and leave us in the dark." While she was trying to reach out to him, it was also making her mad. Did he have to be so distant? They had been worried for almost all of summer vacation.

Tucker shook his head, this was going south very fast. He wanted to say something, but when he had kicked her in the shin to get her attention, the look she sent him terrified him.

That good mood was going fast. Danny knew he'd come to regret saying anything about it, he shouldn't have said a damn thing that day. It was nice to know they cared, but the interrogation he was receiving wasn't doing anything besides piss him off. "No Sam. I'm not telling you."

"We're your friends, please Danny." Why was he being so stubborn? Maybe they could even help if it's still a problem.

It took a lot of willpower not to shout at her, he had to remind himself that he does want to be friends with them. Sam's just making it so damn hard. "What's with the inquisition Sam? I'll tell you when I'm ready, so just move on already."

Sam was now ready for a harsher tone, "I ju-"

Tucker stands up, "Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition!"

Sam glares at him, but it's cut off when she hears Danny's laugh. She hadn't thought that she would miss his laugh so much, but hearing it again after so long felt nice. She sighed and dropped the topic. Tuckers timing was spot on, even Sam couldn't deny that.

It was a good one, he'll admit it. Even if they're not on the best of standings, he couldn't help the laugh that got out. It felt good, admittedly, but one joke wouldn't be enough. It helps to lighten the mood though.

The bell rings, and the trio gets up and walks towards the exit. Danny and Tucker already knew where the class was, so Sam just followed them. "Where's your locker Danny?"

"It's close by, near the staircase."

Both perked up at that, "Oh, that's good. Ours is near there too."

Lo and behold, the group finds their lockers all right next to each other. Danny and Sam had theirs right next to each other, and Tucker had his two rows over. Again, Danny looked around and still couldn't find Dash and his followers. It was really starting to get to him, especially since he humiliated both Dash and Dale.

Deciding it's best to stay where he knows he'll be safe, Danny gets their attention. "Hey, you guys ready? I wanna get to class early." The two teens eye each other and shrug, their lockers are shut and locked a minute later. "We're good, what's the rush for?"

Danny slings his backpack over his shoulder and starts walking towards his class. "I actually like Lancer, so I don't want to leave a bad impression, more so since he helped me already. Plus I have him two classes in a row."

Now that she has a moment to look at her friend, actually look at him, she took it. Danny had changed more than just emotionally in the summer. Danny grew taller, maybe two or three inches. He was now taller than her, even if only by a little. He used to wear that white and red shirt before, almost all the time since he had so many, but he dressed differently now. A white long sleeve under a blue short sleeve, button down. The jeans were the same, but they weren't as baggy, possibly because he grew into them. All in all, the outfit looked good on him, it matched his eyes. It was clear that whatever happened in the summer changed him, he was far more confident, defiant, stubborn and independent. Sam was all too happy to see her friend rebel against the school hierarchy, but she doesn't want that newfound attitude directed at her.

The walk back is uninterrupted, thankfully, but Danny's paranoia is rising, especially since this class has multiple A-Listers. Dash, Dale, Paulina, Star, Valerie and a few others all sit at the front of the class on the right side. It doesn't help his nerves that they keep whispering back and forth to each other and laughing, more so since they keep glancing back at him.

Danny gives them the finger. Even with a bandage on his nose, the skin around the dressing was already starting to bruise a sickly yellow and purple. Fenton flipping the bird their way made him want to stand up and beat him then and there. It was easy to see what the dumb blond wanted to do, especially with the glare he was pointing at Danny. Dale was looking at him the same way, but he was always better at waiting and getting back at people. Star had wide eyes, completely stunned that he had it in him to do that, while the queen B herself wasn't even paying attention, the compact mirror in her hand was apparently far more interesting at the moment; Valerie didn't seem to care either, she had her eyes on her phone with her fingers going a mile a minute to send a text.

Sam and Tucker looked at each other worryingly, Danny has always been sarcastic and a little hostile towards the popular kids, especially with the treatment they get. He's never been so open about it before though. Here he is, in broad daylight, giving their whole group the middle finger. And if the rumors were anything to go by? Danny had knocked Dale out at dodgeball and gave Dash a bloody nose with one as well.

If anything, it seems like Danny's going to war with them. Sam rolled her eyes, with the attitude he's giving them, it's no wonder he's getting a little paranoid. He's setting himself up practically, and his antagonism doesn't seem to be going down any either.

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Class is soon on, and soon over; nothing exciting had happened, Lancer just went over the class syllabus like the rest of the teachers. With today being the first day, there wouldn't be any work today. Freshmen had to get acquainted with the new school and get used to a different environment, so normally those in the ninth grade wouldn't receive any homework in the first week either. It's like an extra week to readjust to a new lifestyle, and it's something every teenager that goes to the school is thankful for.

After class was over, the trio split two ways. Danny and Sam had to find their Biology class, and Tucker had Phys Ed with Tetslaff. Tucker may hate P.E., but at least Dash and Dale wouldn't be in his class.

Before they got to the science wing, Danny stopped by to use the restroom. A quick peek in told him that there was no one there, good. He would not be having a swirly ever again, it was disgusting, and he'll break bones before he takes a swirly again. Minutes later he exits, with plenty of time to get to class.

When Danny rounds the corner, he doesn't even have time to mutter a surprise when he's jerked sideways. "Think fast loser!" Enhanced reflexes are another perk of being a Halfa, but this is the first time he's noticed how dull they are in his human form, when compared to his ghost form. That doesn't mean he's not alert enough to see the smug smile of Dash as he's shoved into a locker. Off to the side he can see a few more of the A-Listers, recording the whole thing.

Anger crawls under his skin and before the locker door is closed, Danny kicks off. Dash is sent into the wall on the opposite side of the hall by Danny's two feet. The Halfa grabs the edges of the locker, growling and just barely bottling up just how pissed he is. He knew they would try something like this, to try and humiliate him. Before he can pull himself out, Dale is on him and decks him in the face from his blind spot. His head rocks back into the locker, smacking into the back and he holds his now bleeding nose, but he grabs Dale's wrist at the last second, glares at the surprised jock and yanks. The darker skinned bully kisses the locker, and Danny makes sure that he keeps at it. Dale is slammed into the locker four times before Dash is back up and cup-checks the defender. Danny lets go of the offending arm and grabs his family jewels, hissing in pain and out of breath. The locker is closed on him before his eyes open to reveal burning green. His fist blurs forward and impacts the inside of the locker, denting it slightly. "How's that for thinking fast!"

The people on the outside are in a tense befuddlement, uneasy at what just happened. Was Fenton always like that? Dale and Dash jump in shock when a fist puts a new dent into the locker, from the inside. Dash grits his teeth at the provocation and makes to open the locker again to teach the dork a lesson. "Can you stop messing around? We're going to be late." The impatient voice of Paulina stops him dead in his tracks and he looks back at her in annoyance. "What the hell Sanchez? Did you not hear what he said?!"

Paulina stepped forward towards the quarterback, "I heard what he said, but I also saw him almost beat you two." She points at them, "That was kinda pathetic by the way, you got him in a surprise and in a two on one, and he still hurt you two." She laughed at them before deleting the video. Paulina waves her phone in front of them, "And because of that… poor performance, the video is shot. It's not funny if we get beat up too."

Dash, despite how intelligently inept he is, at least has enough brain cells to understand what she's saying. "Fine," he bites out, clearly frustrated, "but this isn't over yet." Another bang from the locker gets their attention, "Let me out you pricks! Can't even deal with me yourself? Had to get help didn't ya, you dumb blonde bitch!" Dash growls at the trapped teenager, but kicks the locker instead.

The blonde picks up his friend who's rubbing his face and smacks him upside the head, "What the hell man, now we can't use the video." Dale glares at the larger jock, "You were the first to go down, so don't pin this shit on me Baxter. I wasn't even supposed to get involved!" Dash waves it off and walks away, the rest of the group following. "Whatever."

Inside the locker, Danny took out his phone and checked the time. His class is right up the stairs around the corner and there was about five minutes till class started. Livid is too small of a word for what he's feeling right now, but with no targets besides a locker door, it's easier to calm down. He takes a couple breathes before he turns into Phantom. The half-ghost turns invisible and intangible, before he peeks his head out, looking both ways for any witness, and a quick check of the ceiling shows him that there's no cameras either. Phantom smirks before walking through his small cage. "Oh, ghost powers, how convenient you are."

Phantom fades from Fenton and he runs to class, barely making it back before the bell rings. Danny takes the seat next to Sam and starts taking out his supplies. She pokes him to get his attention, "What happened?" She whispered.

Danny sighed and said one word, "Dash." It really was all she needed to know too. If Dash was involved, she can see why he was late. "Ah, I see. Well, good job on getting out." She left out that he was actually right, no one ever wants to hear 'I told you so'. Sam was still surprised by how right he was though, for the future sake, she made a mental note to have him follow his gut.

Biology with Falluca was about as fun it could be, and the teacher himself didn't seem like much, nor did he leave an impression. He was short, comically so, and he was balding. The gray hair that was left on his head didn't look great, it was wispy, thin, and the combover was obvious. To top it all off, he dresses like he's going golfing. His voice was bland and made worse by how nasally and high pitched it was. The man himself didn't even seem like he cared, a true public high school teacher: underpaid, overworked, and no longer caring if it shows.

An hour and a half later and the first day of school was finally over, teenagers and young adults alike bolted home, ready to decompress from a stressful new beginning. Danny trudged through the crowd, tired and still annoyed. The whole day had been ups and downs, and by the end of it Danny just wanted the day to end. Sam and Tucker followed close behind him, giving him cautious stares. They were nervous to say anything, especially after the day he's had.

Tucker decided to take the first leap, "Hey man, you okay?"

Danny blinked and turned around, he stared at Tucker for a few seconds before shrugging. "It's been a long day, and I just want to go home. It could have been worse, but it also could have gone much better." Truthfully, he might have forgotten they were there, his mind was elsewhere and at the moment he just wanted to get home and go flying. Readjustment to school was going to be difficult, far more so for him since he had spent the entire summer primarily alone, devoid of most contact, and flying through the air. The itch to break through the stratosphere was so strong, Danny was starting to suspect that it was closer to withdrawal symptoms. When the whole day is practically spent playing with new superpowers that are far more fun and cool than any video game, it's hard to stay cooped up for so long.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "How could it have gone better? This is high school we're talking about, it's always a colossal shit-show."

Danny couldn't deny that, but he still had to say his piece. "I know that, Sam. I'm just saying, is it normally this complicated for most?" He raised his hand into a ball, before using his other to pick a finger out. "Homeroom and my first class were easy and uneventful, something I'm glad for. Phys Ed with Tetslaff? A disaster. Not only did the jocks get off scot-free," Danny raises a second finger, "I got a weeks worth of detention in their place, how fu~cking fair. Not that I went to those, mind you." The two listeners of the conversation looked at each other, but neither said anything and refocused back on what their estranged friend was saying. It was difficult to say anything when he was on a role like this.

"I actually swapped out of all her classes," He raised a finger again, totaling to three; "That was a blessing, don't get me wrong, but I shouldn't have had to do that. That's a last resort thing right? Well, it was all too obvious that it was necessary, so while I'm glad to be out of her class, I don't think it's a good thing." The half-ghost still wasn't done, however, " Number four, the whole thing with Dash." A fourth finger came up, "The blond ass-hat needs to get something into that empty head of his: I'm not gonna get pushed around anymore. Every time they try, I'll fight them on it." Danny focused his stare back at his friends, "Like I did today." Honestly, one of the few things he was thankful for was that there were no ghost attacks today.

"How did that go down by the way?" Tucker asked. Danny had only told bits and pieces to Sam, but Tucker was completely clueless on the whole event. Sam nodded her head, eager to hear the whole thing.

By the time Danny recounted the whole tellings, which didn't take much time at all, they were already on his street. Tucker was laughing at the mental gif of Dale getting slammed into a locker, while Sam looked amused, but concerned as well. The smug smile on Danny's face made her hesitate, but she wanted to say something. "Danny."

With refocused attention, Danny brought his eyes back to Sam. She cleared her throat before speaking, "You shouldn't stoop to their level." This needed to be said, she didn't want her friend solving his problems with violence!

The smile was gone, and in its place was a blank face. "How am I 'stooping to their level' Sam? I'm not attacking them, it's called self defense."

"You shouldn't solve your problems with violence Danny, you're better than that!" She shouted.

It wasn't anger that came next, but a tired sigh. Danny rubbed his neck, already tired of this conversation and this day. "Sam, drop it. I'm not out looking for a fight, I'm not being violent. All I'm saying is, if they come after me, I'm not gonna just take it."

The goth opened her mouth to say something again, but Danny raised a hand to stop her. "I'm done talking about this now. I'm tired and I want to, no, am now, going home." True to his word, they were in front of his house. It's hard to miss a home that says FENTON WORKS on it with flashing neon lights.

Danny changed direction and walked to his door. He waved his hand back at them in parting, "See ya later guys."

"See ya Danny!" Tucker shouted at the retreating form of his friend. When Danny was finally inside, he turned to Sam and saw an angry scowl on her face. Tucker huffed in frustration and began the trek back to his house. "Lets go Sam, he's clearly not in the mood, and neither am I."

She followed along, still sour about what just happened. "How can he just blow me off like that? I was just trying to help!" Another tired sigh makes its way from him for the umpteenth time today.

"Sam," he started, "I get your stubborn, really, but come on. You're pushin' this way more than you should. This is the first day he's talked to us, and he's still obviously angry at us. You gotta stop badgering him on things, at least for now." That's all they needed, a 'for now', there was no way she would ever stop nagging them, not until the day they died.

She bit her lip, but still tried to stand her ground. "I'm just saying Tucker, he shouldn't act like them and just beat people up." The argument was sounding weaker now that neither of the choirs she was preaching to wanted to listen.

"No Sam," Tucker shook his head, "He's not saying that. I don't know if he worked out or something over the summer, but he's clearly adamant about this and he's confident enough to back it. He's saying he'll defend himself." He turned around and pointed at her, "And your argument was weak, it sounded like you were telling him to let himself get beat up."

Yeah, that's what she was afraid of. Maybe she didn't word it right, but she was scared he'd take it the wrong way, and it seems he did. "Damn it, that's not what I wanted."

Now walking backwards so he can face his friend, Tucker continues the explanation. He wants to get this across quickly, Sam's house is coming up soon. "Look, I get it Sam. But how mad at us was he? We reeeeally gotta take this slow." It's not often he gets to be the lecturer, but it does kind of feel good.

"Fine," Sam bites out, "but-"

"Sammykins!" A shrill voice interrupts her. Sam grimaces at the pet-name her parents have for her, she hates it with every fiber of her being. She turns to her mother, who's standing in the doorway. She's smiling in a way that could only spell annoyance for her soon. Sam turns back to her friend, "I gotta go Tucker, see you tomorrow."

Tucker laughs at her misfortune, but waves her off: "Good luck, 'Sammykins.'" He smirks at the glare he receives.

Sam turns back to her mom, muttering under her breath. "I'll get you back Tucker." The peppy smile and attitude her mom is giving her doesn't make her feel too good about what's about to happen. Slowly, she starts her walk on the plank.

"Hi mom." She greets. She'd walk past her if she could, but since she's standing in the doorway, it means she's not getting by until then. Pamela beamed a shining smile at her daughter and hugged her. Sam groaned at the contact, but didn't resist, it's her mother after all. No matter how annoying.

Pamela pulled away, still smiling and said, "Let's go shopping sweety!"

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"Hey Danny, welcome home." The first voice to greet him was his sister. Apparently she had been waiting for him, given she practically jumped him when he walked in.

Danny eyed his sister carefully, if she was waiting for him, there was a reason why. "Hey Jazz, what's up?" He's had to deal with Sam and her interrogations today, he didn't really want to hear any nagging right now.

Jazz closed her book and sat up straighter on the couch. She smiled at him, sisterly and caring, "How was your first day? It tends to be kind of rough, especially for people with our parents."

Danny relaxed a little and sighed. He dropped his bag off on the coffee table and plopped down onto the couch. After kicking his shoes off to the side, he finally responds.

"It could have been better." His voice was tired, and Jazz had a feeling that he'd been sighing a lot today.

Still, she had a job to do as the older sister. Jazz rubbed his shoulder and gave him another smile, "Cheer up, little brother. It's just the beginning."

Danny closed his eyes and knocked his head back. He knew that. He knew it better than anyone else in this town.