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Danny was heaving with worry--- for the first time in forever, Dash learned to put two and two together, and now? He was taking a step back, more anguished than Phantom---er---Fenton, as the remnant of the white rings disappeared over the last locks of black hair, efficiently bleaching them white.
Pushing the nerd into the lockers every other moment, Dash failed to notice the veined lightning bolts covering his entire figure and, even though they were faint and barely noticeable, they were definitely there on his face. Now, every stem and branch of the Lichtenbergs were visibly in a faint ghostly glow.
Dash had only barely opened his mouth to question it all, immediately shutting himself up as he dodged a blow from Skulker, floating up to a few feet above Dash's head to start throwing his own.
That was the best thing he could do in that moment, just shut up and watch.
Watch.
Watch.
He watched as phantom was slammed onto the floor, flung into the air and he watched as a blade missed Danny by a nanometer.
"It's wondrous, isn't it? To see him to nimble and able to fend off anything you could throw at him, but then you realize he must've gotten the practice from somewhere. How much did you contribute to his practice?"
He looked down at the ghost, standing there, not as an invasive entity, but just as another viewer.
Dash couldn't answer, he stood there gaping, too flabbergasted to speak, so instead, he chose to berate yet another.
"What're you doing here, ghost?"
"The name's Poindexter,"
The ghost started, a glint of light shining across his ancient glasses as the words whistled past his rabbit teeth.
"and Fenton was slammed into the locker really aggressively. I thought I saw ectoplasm flowing from a fresh wound so I came to see if I could help."
Dash looked at Phantom flipping in the air, then at the ghost next to him, then at the Mecha-ghost assaulting Fenton, then at the meek ghost again.
"So then help."
He didn't mean for it to come out like that, he really didn't, but then again, he hadn't a clue the scaredy-cat who was running off each time there was a ghost was actually running off to protect the rotten lot of them.
Oh god he had a lot to apologize for.
"Why don't you help him then?"
Agonizing words coming from a useless ghost. Dash couldn't help but ponder over those words, though. He fell silent, suddenly growing interested in the old tiles of the hallway.
Poindexter noticed his lack of violent enthusiasm.
"If it makes you feel better, none of us could do anything against Skulker, he just wants Phantom as wall decor."
How long was this fight going? Phantom usually had already kicked the ghosts sorry butts into the thermos by now.
The thermos.
It had only been a few minutes since, but it felt like forever ago.
Wispy blue air escaped Fenton's lips as he scrambled to grab a hold onto his soup thermos. It was then, Dash had decided, to try and see how much of a mess Danny's blood made inside the locker if he smashed the the thermos in his face before stuffing him in. He was just about to execute the second part of the plan, when an imaginary hand rose, and slammed the both of them on the wall behind them.
Fear paralyzing Dash now fuelled him as he scrammed to rip Danny's locker off its hinges. If he really was Phantom then he was fighting ghosts on the daily, and if he was fighting ghosts on the daily---the implications of which made him shudder--- then he must have something in situations like these, he absolutely must.
He did.
It was all the way at the back of the bottom of his locker, but it was there. A Fenton thermos. A perfect replica of the one he destroyed in Danny's face.
"Hey Fentur- Phantom!"
That little switch of language was enough to catch Danny's attention, even more so as the glint of the metal caught his eye.
He flung the soup- Fenton thermos to Danny, who caught it and made quick use of it for capturing Skulker as his empty threats faded into thin air.
The lights flickered back to their normal state almost instantly, and Dash finally noticed the sad, old, tired eyes that had seen just an ounce too much for someone soon to say goodbye to high school.
Danny was hunching, curling in on himself. He was clutching tight onto his side, Dash finally getting an answer as to why he sometimes smelt of battery acid, as well as to many other things.
"I guess you know, huh?"
Danny gave him a weak smile before collapsing, his hand sliding against the wall in an effort to catch himself as the transformation washed over him.
"Fenton!"
Danny had collapsed because of the ectoplasm flowing out his side, and Dash had collapsed by his side in panic. Skulker must've landed a blow on Danny when he was out of his element talking to Poindexter.
"Is that your blood? What do I do?"
"It's fine, Dash. It's just skin-deep, and I have accelerated healing. That was probably the last ghost at school for today considering we both are supposed to be at home by now."
A pool of green with crimson speckles started forming around the negligent halfa, slowly but surely growing. Now, yet still, all Dash could do was watch.
A few moments passed in silence, only the sound of Fenton heaving from pain now audible.
"Hey, Dash. Could you get the white box from my locker? It's on the top shelf, under my jacket."
Dash wasted no time getting the box, quiet to judge as even he could see that moving around with that cut would send bolts and twinges of electric pain.
Phantom took the box from him, and, with one hand still clasping onto the wound, opened the box of medical supplies with the other. He silently struggled to clean the puddle around him with a rag until Dash snatched it from him, muttering how he can't believe he'd been doing this for so long like this.
With the floor out of the way, Danny now focused on cleaning the wound itself, glad beyond relief that the blade missed shredding up the new binder Sam got him, if only by an inch. It was doing fairly well, had mostly closed itself up, but cleaning it up would most definitely help.
A distant chatter was beginning to be heard, and almost on instinct, he let the white rings pass over himself. Dash gave him a questioning look, one that would be easily answered.
"It's easier to explain Phantom getting hurt as compared to just blaming it on a bully without getting them in trouble."
Dash winced at his heroic avoidance of getting him in trouble, wishing he made it easier for him to do so.
The sound of rubber soles grating against tiles grew louder and louder, till the Fentons slammed the door open screaming bloody murder at ghosts. They bared their teeth before a white light flashed in front of their eyes, leaving them gasping as Danny gave them a cheeky grin from the floor.
The gloved but loving hand of a mother stroked his cheek as she pushed her goggles back.
"Oh, Danny."