Chapter Text
“I want to make it completely clear that I don’t agree with this.”
There was a beat as they processed her words. It was a statement that came completely out of the blue. This late in the game, it was too late for anything to be done. However, she wasn’t a woman who let her thoughts be unheard and she wasn’t going to let any of them do this without her pointing out just what it was they were really doing in the first place. And how much it didn’t sit right with her. At all.
There was a soft squeak as they turned in their chairs to face her. She didn’t look at them, keeping her gaze focused on a painting on the wall, one of the three of them many years prior. All looked somber, their eyes trying to keep all the horror they’d seen, all the fear they’d felt, from seeping through. The painting had never been finished. They’d taken it anyways, not as a snapshot of the time but as a reminder. A reminder that no matter what they did, they’d lost far too much to ever be themselves again.
“Dory.”
The voice shook her out of her stupor and she turned to face the two men. They both watched her carefully, waiting to hear what she had to say.
“I…” She took a deep breath. “This isn’t going to help us.”
One of her companions, the one who had called her name earlier, cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I said, Jon!” she snapped. “This. Isn’t. Going. To. Help. Us.”
“And how do you know that?”
She stuttered, processing Jon’s response. “I don’t! But subjecting random people to… to this without their permission? What does that make us, Jon?”
Jon flinched and looked away, unable to meet her eyes as he formed his next few sentences. “Nobody asked for our permission. We didn’t get to choose this.”
“Exactly! We didn’t get to choose this!” She stepped forward, gesturing wildly. “If you had a choice, would you choose this life?”
There was hesitation. She saw it in the corners of his mouth and in how he twitched his nose. Finally, he looked up at her, his brow furrowed and a frown forcing its way through the normally jovial man. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” The frown deepened. “Would you?”
The answer had already been ready on her tongue. Yet, now that she’d been asked, it wouldn’t come out. Instead, all she could say was a gentle, “What if it doesn’t work?”
The third member of their trio, who’d been a silent observer to the entire conversation, reached over to his cane, using it to hoist himself out of his seat. All three of them knew he didn’t truly need it, but, at this point, it was second nature for him.
“Anesidora.”
She raised her gaze to meet his.
“Anesidora,” he repeated. “The unfortunate truth of the matter… is that we are far past ‘what if.’”
When he received no response from her, he walked straight past, adjusting his grip on the cane to carry it rather than use it. Anesidora and Jon watched him quietly as he stopped in front of the unfinished painting.
“If we were held up at ‘what if,’ we would not be where we are today.” He reached out to run a hand over the painting, feeling the uneven texture of the paint beneath his fingers. “The hypothetical can be restricting, yes, but if you dwell on it forever, you will never do what needs to be done.”
The other two made eye contact. A silent conversation passed between the two of them, communicated only by the known expressions of an age-old friend.
“The past has already been decided. The present is being decided as we speak.” He turned to look at them. To any outsider, his facial expression would be seen as completely blank, devoid of any emotion and unreadable. But to them, they could feel the sadness hidden in his eyes, the sorrow etched in the lines of his face. Yet within it all, there was not an ounce of hesitation or worry.
“The future will be decided by what we do today and, while time is on our side, I find it incredibly wasteful to spend it debating the hypothetical. I’m giving you both an option.” He walked away from the painting, stopping between Anesidora and Jon. He adjusted his grip on his cane again, placing both hands on it and leaning on it. His eyes flickered between his two oldest friends. “You can leave right now. It’s far too late to stop this, but I am willing to do it all and take the blame myself. I would never let any semblance of guilt rest on your shoulders, my dear friends.” He smiled gently. “So if you truly do feel that what we are doing is wrong, I will not hold it against you if you choose to leave.”
He waited, watching both of them as they looked at each other. Another silent conversation occurred, this one lasting a few minutes as the two of them debated their feelings on what they were about to do.
Finally, Anesidora looked up, meeting her other friend’s eyes. “Will it work?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then it will work.”
If there was one day of the week Sidney couldn’t stand, it was Thursdays. They were such a tease, almost Friday but not quite. As much as he liked learning, even he liked weekends, and Thursday was just one step too far away from them.
On this particular Thursday, Sidney was waiting for the final bell, staring aimlessly at the cracked clock on the wall and resting his head in his hands. At the front of the classroom, Mr. Lancer was discussing the results of the previous day’s quiz. Sidney had known the teacher for only a week and yet he was already nervous. Any teacher that gave a quiz, an actual graded quiz and not any sort of pre-test, during the first week of school was a teacher to be wary of.
Sidney flicked his attention to the window on the opposite side of the room. It was a clear day outside and, down below, he could see some upperclassman, already released with free periods, hanging out on the bleachers. It felt like a Friday and that was, without a doubt, the worst part of Thursdays.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Mr. Lancer placing his quiz down on his desk with a small smile, the kind that teachers gave when they were proud of you but didn’t want to say it out loud. Sure enough, a glance at his paper revealed a “100” written in red pen, accessorized with a smiley face. A bit of pride swelled up in him, both muted by years of good grades and enhanced by the approval of a new teacher at the same time.
The final bell rang almost as soon as Mr. Lancer placed the last test on the last desk, a girl Sidney vaguely knew as Mia, jumping at the sound of both the bell and the paper hitting the desk, shoving what was definitely a phone into her pocket. Sidney was clearly not the only one to notice her lack of subtlety, as a few students snickered and Mr. Lancer gave her a stern look, which was met with a sheepish smile.
“Don’t forget! Read chapters 3 and 4 of To Kill a Mockingbird for Monday. We will have a quick quiz on those chapters!” Mr. Lancer called, even though half the class was already out the door.
Sidney tucked his perfect quiz into a folder and put it in his backpack, alongside his notebook and pencil. He paused briefly, listening to the chatter of students in the hallway, excited for Friday to come and Thursday to end, and watching as the upperclassmen on the bleachers packed up their things and walked off, likely to go to the Nasty Burger for some afterschool snacks, like most of the students were prone to do.
“Mr. Poindexter, may I speak to you, please?”
His head snapped over to Mr. Lancer, subconsciously realizing he was the last student remaining in the room. Worry began to spread through his mind. Was there actually something wrong with his quiz? Had he forgotten some assignment due? Had Mr. Lancer noticed him not listening?
“Yes, sir,” Sidney responded, quickly approaching the teacher’s desk. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, no.” Lancer shook his head and sat himself down in his chair, resting his arms on the desk. “I just wanted to say I’ve heard quite a bit about you from my colleagues at the middle school. After that stellar quiz, I can’t wait to see what else you have in store. Something tells me you have a bright future ahead of you.”
“Oh! Gee, um, thank you, sir.”
Mr. Lancer smiled again, that smile of secret pride, and gestured that he could leave, which he did quickly. He had some place to be soon.
The playground was near barren, with the school-aged kids barely out of school and the parents of the younger kids mostly at work. There were a few kids here and there, but Astro could count them all on one hand, with a few fingers to spare. Pity. He liked kids. They were young and pure and full of dreams for the future, their minds not yet crushed by the harsh reality of the world and the realization of how hard they would have to work to achieve their goals.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of their laughter and happiness. He was sitting far enough away that his presence at the playground would not attract suspicion, especially as he clearly was not with any of the kids, but far enough away that he could listen in.
What big dreams they had. A princess, a veterinarian who treated dragons and mermaids, all unfortunately unobtainable with the current levels of human knowledge. If only they knew of what existed outside of humanity. They would have an absolute field day with that.
His hair stood up on the back of his neck as the air grew damper, a crack of thunder sounding out in the distance, despite the clear skies and the prediction that the weekend would be rain-free. He hummed a quiet note, not yet opening his eyes.
“You’re late.”
There was shuffling to his left. “Air traffic was terrible.”
Astro rolled his head to the side and finally opened his eyes, seeing his companion for the first time in years. He’d shaved since he’d last seen him and now seemed to have a fondness for too much eyeliner, if the black smeared around his eyes was any indication. Despite that, as Astro had expected, he didn’t look a day older, even though it had been almost a decade.
“My, my, Stormy, you look like you walked out of the 80s. You do realize it’s the 21st century now, correct?”
Stormy scowled, crossing his arms, and Astro noticed he was still continuing his trend of cutting the sleeves off his shirts.
“Cut to the chase, Astro,” he grumbled. “Why’d you call me here?”
Astro hummed again, listening in as the children continued to play. “I have reasonable suspicion our old friends are up to something.” At Stormy’s unconvinced look, he continued. “Come on, can’t you feel it? There’s something in the air. Something new. Without a doubt, it smells like dear old Clocky.”
“Oh, yeah?” Stormy said. Astro could detect the boredom in his voice.
“Of course. His dreams…” He took a deep breath and sighed. “They’re different from the rest. Familiar. He feels… hopeful.”
“So what?” Another crack of thunder. “Are we going to stop him or what?”
Astro clicked his tongue as if scolding a young child. “No, no, of course not. I can feel it. He wants to create more, bring us back.” He could feel Stormy’s eyes snapping towards him, his curiosity piqued. “There are so little of us remaining, but Clocky has always been the one to interfere. I don’t want to stop him.” He met Stormy’s eyes and grinned. “I want to see how this plays out.
Sidney’s mom had taken him to New York a few times as a kid, back when they had lived in the state. Even though the memories were fuzzy with age, he’d never forget the many crowded trains they had taken to get around. He was never a huge fan of crowds in the first place, yet those experiences certainly hadn’t helped and were definitely on his list of worst crowded places.
At the top of that list, of course, was the Casper High hallways after the final bell.
Even after staying late to talk to Lancer, the hallways were packed with eager students trying to leave as fast as they could. The bigger kids were able to push past quite easily and didn’t seem to mind the chaos around them, but the smaller kids were shoved around like ping pong balls. Which, unfortunately, did include the scrawny and short Sidney Poindexter.
A few of the other freshmen did make a show of attempting to push their way through the center of the hallway. However, Sidney chose to stick closer to the sides, almost pinning himself against the lockers. There were less people attempting to push their way through the sides, with most of the people there just trying to escape the crowd or access their lockers. Through this method, Sidney slowly made his way out of the main hallways, careful to not step on any poor individuals with lower lockers just trying to get their stuff together so they could leave.
After only stepping on two hands, tripping over one person, and being shoved an indeterminate amount of times, he managed to break free into the side hallway where his locker was located. There were considerably less people in this area, being a dead end of lockers and one classroom-turned-storage closet. However, it was still noisey, mostly from the nearby chatter of students in the crowded main hallway.
Sidney paused for a second, fixing his wrinkled vest and bowtie, before making his way to his locker.
No one paid him much mind, per usual. Not so much as a glance was sent his way and no one paused to greet him as he passed by. Instead, he hummed quietly, opening his locker and grabbing a few books necessary for the night’s homework. He could tell it was going to be a good night. There were plans to meet with his friends for homework and then attend some seminar that night that Lancer offered for extra credit. He smiled at the thought, emptying his bag of a few unnecessary notebooks before zipping up his bag. He reached over to the door of his locker, pausing to glance at a photo hanging in the locker.
In the foreground, Amber smiled broadly, holding the camera, one arm wrapped around Danny next to her, who, in turn, was shyly waving at the camera. Danielle leaned on his shoulder, resting her head in her hand, a cocky grin dusting her face. Just behind her stood Dora and Sidney, the former smiling sweetly, arms clasped behind her back, and the latter looking surprised, seemingly not having noticed the camera beforehand.
The locker door slammed shut, snapping Sidney out of his thoughts with an undignified squeak and narrowly avoiding crushing his fingers in the process. The first sight of a red and white letterman jacket drove fear throughout his body. The sight of Dash Baxter’s face only increased it tenfold.
Dash removed his hand from the now-closed locker, straightening his posture to smile menacingly down at Sidney. In response, he backed up, bumping straight into someone. A glance up confirmed it to be Kwan, one of Dash’s jock friends and fellow A-Lister. Out of the corner of his vision, he caught sight of a few more of their little clique, specifically Paulina, Star, and Valerie, because of course they were a package deal.
“Hey, nerd, have a nice Thursday?”
Sidney glanced around at the A-Listers surrounding him. “It was… average.”
Dash frowned. “Yeah, that wasn’t a question you were supposed to answer. It was a historical question.”
“It’s, uh, ‘rhetorical’, actually.”
“Don’t use big words with me, nerd-face.”
Sidney quirked an eyebrow but stayed silent.
“Rumor has it, you got your quiz from Lancer back today,” Dash continued, taking a step forward. “That true?”
Sidney tried taking another step back, bumping into Kwan again. The jock gripped his shoulders, just tight enough to be uncomfortable. Tensing up a bit, he opted to nod instead of responding verbally.
“That’s great!” Dash said in a way that certainly was not great. “That means I can call in a little favor from you.” When he received no response, he continued on. “You see, I need to do well in classes to stay on my teams and we both know that I’m not too good at school, right?”
Sidney hesitated, not sure how he was expected to respond to that. Eventually, he just nodded, which seemed satisfactory enough for Dash.
“Now, we also both know that you’re a damn nerd, huh Poindexter?”
He hesitantly nodded again.
“And--” Dash leaned in close, grinning. “I’d bet my next game that you got a perfect score on Lancer’s quiz. Which I haven’t even taken yet. So…”
Sidney blinked, realizing what he wanted. “I can’t--” He straightened up, trying to put on his best stubborn face in the unlikely chance that Dash would back off. “I can’t do that! That would be a pretty serious violation of--”
Kwan’s grip tightened as Dash scowled. “Yeah, yeah. But this is for the greater good!” He faked a pout. “You wouldn’t want to be the reason why Casper High loses the state championship because the best player got benched for poor grades, would you?”
Sidney glanced around, noticing the few people that were beginning to gather around the A-Listers and him, whispering to each other. He looked back at Dash, who was visibly growing more annoyed by the second. Tensing up, he stared directly into the jock’s eyes with a scowl.
“No. I’m not giving you the answers.”
That answer only seemed to drive Dash over the edge. He grabbed Sidney by the front of his shirt, Kwan letting go, and slammed him against his own locker, holding him a good foot off the ground and knocking his glasses askew. As if this little exchange didn’t have enough of a crowd, more and more people gathered around, attracted by the sudden violence.
“Now listen,” Dash hissed, leaning in so close that Sidney could smell the sloppy joe he’d had for lunch on his breath. “That wasn’t a request, Poindexter. You don’t get to reject it. Now, where is that damn quiz?”
“Put him down, Baxter.”
The crowd went quiet, parting a bit to search for the source of the voice. It wasn’t hard to find in the first place, however. Standing mildly annoyed in the back of the crowd, arms crossed, stood Danny Fenton. Next to him, his cousin, Danielle, stood, visibly less annoyed than he was, being more focused on the gum she was chewing, yet still clearly angry.
Dash scowled. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you, Fentonerds.”
Danielle snorted in response. “Nice insult, Baxter. Ten out of ten, would enjoy being insulted again.”
Valerie turned around to glare at her. “Can it, Fenton.”
“Make me, Gray,” she said in response, blowing a bubble with her gum.
Kwan grabbed Valerie’s arm just as she was about to lunge at Danielle. When she turned back to glare at him in a vain attempt to convince him to let her go through with it, he shook his head disapprovingly. Instead, she simply glared as she straightened up and backed down. Danielle blew another bubble at her.
With that over, Danny turned his attention back to Dash and Sidney, crossing his arms. “That’s my friend, Dash. I’m making it have something to do with me.”
Sidney glanced between the two, wondering if he could use the distraction to wiggle out of Dash’s grip and run for it.
“Yeah, bad grades won’t look good on your transcript to let you play,” Danny continued. “But I think getting caught beating up a kid for quiz answers in the first week of freshman year might look a little worse.”
Star rolled her eyes. “Scram, Fenton. No one wants your opinions anyways.”
Danny ignored her. “Dash, just go flunk your quiz and leave the rest of us alone.” He rolled his eyes and muttered, just loud enough for Dash to hear, “Maybe if we’re lucky, you’ll flunk out of high school earlier than expected.”
Dash immediately dropped Sidney, who fell to the ground a lot quicker than he expected, and immediately charged Danny as another one of his jock buddies grabbed Danielle to prevent her from interfering.
“Hey!” She grunted, trying to squirm out of his grip as he lifted her off the floor, pinning her arms to her sides.
Danny’s eyes went wide, seconds before Dash slammed into him, knocking him roughly to the ground. He grunted as he landed on his arm and barely got a second before he was grabbed up by his shirt, Dash’s face nearly pressed to his.
“Listen, here,” he hissed. Danny winced at the smell of his breath. “I’m going to pass Lancer’s stupid quiz and I’m going to be the best damn quarterback this school has ever seen. And I’m going to get recruited to the fricking NFL.”
The jock who had grabbed Danielle muffled a cry as she bit into his hand.
“You, Fenton,” Dash continued, ignoring him. “You’re going to crash and burn for the rest of your life. You’re nothing and you will always be nothing.”
Danny didn’t respond, simply glaring at him. He didn’t even try to get away. Behind Dash, Sidney hesitated, wondering if he should do something or even make a run for it. The jock holding Danielle managed to successfully get her to stop biting him, only for her to land a successful kick between his legs, which resulted in him dropping her.
Dash smirked, throwing Danny back to the ground. He landed with a grunt and quickly resumed his glare, trying to seem as intimidating as possible for a scrawny kid currently laying on the ground in front of his lifetime bully.
“C’mon,” Dash hissed. “Let’s get out of here before Lancer or Ishiyama shows up.”
At his command, the rest of the A-Listers vacated and, with them, the crowd dissipated with a few lingering murmurs.
With them gone, Sidney pushed himself up to his feet, rushing over to Danny’s side. Danielle also stumbled to her feet, glaring after the crowd.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Sidney said, offering a hand out to Danny. “I was fine.”
Danny laughed dryly, taking his hand. “No, you weren’t. It’s fine, Sid.”
“No, it isn’t.” Danielle rubbed at her mouth. “Son of a bitch tasted like he hadn’t cleaned himself in years.”
“Maybe don’t bite people then. And language, by the way,” Danny said, ignoring her resulting death glare. “Anyways, it’s totally fine, Sid.” He smiled. “Besides, I’d rather take the brunt of it if it means no one else gets hurt.”
“How poetic,” Sidney said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a self-sacrificing idiot, Danny.”
“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” Danny adjusted the shoulder strap of his backpack, jerking his head towards the main hallway. “C’mon, everyone else is waiting for us.”
The crowd in the main hallway was gone, leaving only a few neglected homework pages and some trash behind. Everyone had already vacated, heading off to the Nasty Burger to hang out or home to relax for the rest of the evening. It seemed like the entire school was suddenly and eerily empty, save for Sidney, Danny, and Danielle.
Danielle stretched with an exaggerated groan. “I had gym last and, damn, I already don’t like Tetslaff. She kicked our asses today.”
“Language again,” Danny said with a sign. “And excuse you--” He paused in the middle of the hallway, placing his hands on his hips and mimicking Tetslaff’s tone of voice. “‘The gym is the room. The class is physical education.’”
Danielle snorted. “Congrats on your potential career in acting.”
“I do agree with Danielle,” Sidney piped in. “All the academic classes are pretty good, but I hate high school physical education more than middle school physical education. I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“Hey, you don’t have Dash in your gym class.” Danny groaned. “Talk about jock privilege.”
“Oh no,” Danielle said. “May whatever god exists out there have mercy on your soul.”
“Too late. I had to play a dodgeball game against him already.”
Sidney laughed, peeking into a nearby classroom. Mr. Lancer leaned over his desk, apparently studying some piece of paper laying on it. Whatever it was, it must’ve been important. He sat still as a statue, not blinking and not even moving his eyes from where he was looking on the page.
With a concerned frown, Sidney continued walking by, past the office and through the front doors of the school. The entire time the Fenton cousins were chatting about gym (excuse them, physical education), neither having even noticed Mr. Lancer.
“Hey, where are we meeting everyone, by the way?”
Sidney snapped out of his thoughts as Danielle asked the question. “The park I think. Amber mentioned something when we had math earlier.”
“Yeah, we’re meeting at the park,” Danny confirmed. “A few hours of homework and then some dumb seminar thing you’re forcing us to go to, Sid.”
“Hey, it’s for extra credit!” Sidney said. “It’ll help your grades in the long run. Good grades are important if you really want to be an astronaut.”
He ignored Danielle’s response of “Nerd!” as something caught his attention on the corner of his vision. He snapped his head around, looking for whatever it was, a strange feeling of nervousness rising in his chest. It was probably just a bug or a bird or something, yet he couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t. It was something more.
Despite that feeling, the school courtyard was completely empty, not a single soul in sight.
“Sidney?”
He turned around, meeting Danny’s concerned gaze.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah… yes!” Sidney responded. Given the look on Danny’s face, it was much too quick of a response. “Thought I saw something. Probably just a bird.”
“But--”
“Best not to keep everyone waiting!” He took off, Danielle following soon with a shrug.
With their backs turned, they missed Danny looking back at the school, his eyes catching sight of a broken clock through the window of a classroom. They also missed his quiet confusion as the clock began to tick again.
“They’re late.”
“We literally just got here two minutes ago.”
“So they’re two minutes late.”
Sam glanced up from her sketchbook, a drawing of a bat half-completed, to glare at Amber. “Am, really?”
“C’mon!” Amber exclaimed. “You act like I pay attention in math class. Sid said he’d help me with this shit.”
“Uh, maybe you should pay attention then?” Tucker said, leaning onto Sam’s shoulder, who immediately pushed him off. “Y’know, instead of relying on Sid all the time.”
“Can it, Foley,” Amber mumbled. “Besides, Falluca’s such a bore to listen to anyways.”
Tucker seemed to think over it for a second before making a face that seemed to say “fair enough.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” Dora said, sitting behind the three of them and focusing on her notebook. “Sid’s locker is kind of out of the way anyways. They must’ve got caught in the crowd.”
Amber grunted, leaning back until she fell over from her sitting position, nearly missing Dora’s knee with her head. “Damn high school.”
“It’s only the first week, calm down.” Sam went back to her sketching, working on the other wing of her bat.
“Why are you drawing anyways?” Tucker asked, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder again. She looked mildly annoyed but didn’t push him off.
“I signed up from a drawing class,” she said, not bothering to look up. “It was either that or music. I’m not very… musically inclined.”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it!” Amber chimed in.
Tucker ignored her, raising an eyebrow. “The options were drawing, music, or computers.”
“Yeah, but I like drawing.”
“All my friends have abandoned me for boring things,” Amber groaned.
“Drawing isn’t boring,” Sam snapped, accidentally messing up a line on her sketch.
“Neither is computers!” Tucker added.
“Computers is a bit debatable,” Dora said with a shrug.
“No, it’s not! It’s cool! Like really cool!”
“Nerd,” Amber said with a laugh.
“What are you guys even talking about?” All four of them glanced over, seeing Sidney approaching the group with Danielle.
“Sid!” Amber snapped back up to sit. “What’s your opinion on computer class?”
He made a face. “Gee, I’m, uh, not very good with technology. I don’t like computer class all that much.”
“Ha!” She turned to Tucker. “Nerd.”
He frowned. “Thanks, Sid. Anyways, where’s Danny? I thought he was with you guys.”
“Oh, yeah,” Danielle said. “He’s right over there.” She pointed past the group, away from where they were all looking.
Amber turned to follow her gaze, frowning when she didn’t see anything but a few trees and a blue jay. The bird turned to look past her and chirped before flying off. Confused, she turned to look where the bird had been looking and found herself face to face with one Danny Fenton.
He grinned. “Boo.”
She let out a yelp, jumping a bit away from him before growling. “Stop doing that!” She tried to punch him but moved too slow, allowing him to easily dodge her fist as he laughed.
Sam grinned. “Hey, Danny. How was escaping school?”
“It was alright,” he said, sitting down between Amber and her. “We had a run in with Dash.”
“Oh dang,” Tucker said.
“It’s just Dash.” Danny stretched before taking off his backpack and pulling out a notebook labeled “Math”. “He hasn’t had any new gimmicks since someone taught him what swirlies were in 3rd grade.”
Amber looked over at him, seemingly about to say something, before deciding against it and looking away.
“Anyways, what did we miss?” Sidney said, sitting down next to Tucker as Danielle sat behind Danny.
“Well, math is boring and Amber doesn’t know how to do it,” Tucker teased.
Amber’s head snapped up. “That’s not true! Well, the boring part is. Still! I know math!”
Danny snorted, tapping his pencil absentmindedly against his notebook. “Alright then, square root of 225?”
“Ha, fifteen.”
“144?”
“Twelve, try harder.”
“480?”
“That’s not a whole number,” she protested.
“Hey, you wanted a harder square root.” Danny grinned.
“Alrighty then, Daniel Fenton,” she said, folding her arms and smirking. “How about you tell me what the square root of 480 is.”
Danny looked stunned for a second as his grin shifted into a frown. He started to scribble on his notebook, but Amber quickly cut him off.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she said. “In your head only.”
“What?” he protested. “No one can do that in their head!”
If Amber wasn’t already smirking, this was the moment where she would have begun. “Wanna bet?” She leaned backwards to see Sidney past Tucker. “Hey, Sid!”
He looked up from his homework, clearly having stopped paying attention prior to the conversation. “Yes?”
“Square root of 480, go!”
“Approximately 21.9.” With that said, he returned to his work.
“Okay, Sid’s an outlier,” Danny said.
“You did say ‘no one,’” Amber responded. “Fairly sure Sid counts as someone.”
“That’s not-- that’s not what I meant! He definitely counts as someone, but he’s still an outlier. Most people don’t know it off the top of their heads!”
“Yeah, but some people do! So saying no one can do it isn’t true!”
“It’s an exaggeration!”
“It’s still not true, dipsh--” Seeing Danny’s responding glare, she quickly rethought her insult. “--dipstick. Dipstick.”
Unseen to them, Danielle rolled her eyes. “Hey, ‘dipsticks,’ this is homework hour, not listening to you idiots’ pointless arguments hour.” She ignored their protests for the most part, the only indication that she was even still listening being another roll of her eyes.
“This is homework related,” Amber insisted. “It’s math! Why would we do math if it’s not school related? You think I think about math outside of school?”
“I don’t think there’s a problem asking for the square root of 480 in our geometry homework, Amber,” Sidney muttered.
“No, but it was in my algebra homework,” Danny said. “So... thanks.”
Amber’s head snapped around. “You tricked us into doing your homework for you?”
He grinned. “Yeah. Thanks!”
“You little dipsh-- dipstick.”
“Hey!” Sam barked, slamming down her pencil onto her bat drawing. “The next one of you two to talk about goddamn square roots is helping me drag bags of plant food home.”
“What?” Tucker asked.
“I need to stop at the gardening shop on the way home,” she explained. “Now, shut up.”
“Amber started it anyway,” Danny mumbled.
“No! You were the one that started this whole square roots bullshit!” Amber snapped, her math homework practically forgotten at this point.
“Hey! You were the one who wanted to prove you knew math!”
“I didn’t want to prove anything! I know I can do math!”
“Please shut up,” Sam cut in. “Anyways, Danny, you talked first. Hope you like carrying bags.”
“I really don’t.”
“Too late, Fenton,” Amber said.
“I thought we were supposed to be doing our homework,” Dora bemoaned, very clearly regretting the kind of people she was friends with.
“Your total comes to $10.78 and I’ve included a little guide for you about your new friend.” Bud Pepper gave a friendly smile, accepting the ten dollar bill, three quarters, and three pennies his customer gave him. In turn, he slid her purchase, a healthy little spider plant over the counter, thanking her for the purchase and waving as she left the shop.
With her gone and the shop empty, save for him and the plants, Bud leaned over the counter, feeling the heat of the sunlight shining through the window. The early mornings were easily his favorite time of the day, yet this hour, not quite sunset but the sun at just the right angle to bathe the earth in its glow, to shine through windows and cast shadows for those strolling on the sidewalks, was a good contestor.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up and grabbed a spray bottle from under the counter. Business was relatively quiet for that day, but he didn’t mind much. Overall, his shop was doing well and he figured he could take a slow day every now and then. He much preferred the company of the plants anyways.
Humming an old tune he barely remembered from his childhood, he made his way around the room, spraying plants as needed and weaving through the tables supporting them. Through the large windows that made up the front of the shop, he waved to a few passerbys. He’d opened his shop up only a couple of years prior and had found himself greatly enjoying his place in the neighborhood. Many of the civilians living there were very friendly and quite a few were already pretty dedicated customers. The other shop owners in the area would often stop by to greet him and a few who worked with food brought him samples every now and then. Bud himself hadn’t been a very trusting man in many, many years, yet Amity Park was tempting him.
He paused, breaking out of his thoughts, at one plant, Rudbeckia hirta, a black-eyed Susan. It was a stunning plant, yet one of its flowers was beginning to droop. Bud frowned, observing the browning, wrinkled petals and limping stem. Gingerly, he held the flower in one hand, positioning his body to block the view of the plant from the window. With a flash of red in his eyes, the plant suddenly perked up, the dropping flower morphing to resume a healthy and beautiful appearance. Smiling, he picked it up. Despite his work, he could still feel that it was pained. He couldn’t yet tell what was the cause, but he was already determined to find it out and treat the poor plant it had attacked.
The bell above the front door rang, signaling a customer had entered. He turned around to see who it was and smiled.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the plant queen herself, my favorite Black Dahlia,” he said.
Sam rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly. “Bud, I thought we talked about the nicknames.” She smiled, indicating she didn’t really mean it. It was their little inside joke. He’d given her the nickname of “Black Dahlia” and she’d pretend to hate it.
He laughed, making his way back behind the counter to set the black-eyed Susan down off to the side. “How are you doing today, Ms. Manson?”
“Pretty good, all things considered,” she said, looking at the poor sick plant. “What’s wrong with that one? It looks fine.”
Bud sighed, gently holding one of its leaves. “I’m… not sure yet. I’m going to have to look further into it.”
“Oh no,” Sam said. “I hope it’ll be okay. It’s a really good looking plant.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Bud looked past Sam, to where a dark-haired boy her age was standing awkwardly. Resting his elbows on the counter, he waved a finger to point at him, thinking. “You’ve been in here before with Ms. Manson, haven’t you?”
The boy took a second to realize he was being talked to. “Oh, uh, yeah. Hi.”
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He held out a hand. “Bud Pepper.”
“Danny Fenton,” the kid said, taking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Fenton?” Bud asked, his voice betraying his shock. “I used to know a Fenton. He was an old friend of mine.”
“It’s a sorta common name,” Danny admitted. “I’ve heard a few people use it as a first name too.”
“I doubt there’s any relation,” Bud said. “Just a fun coincidence.” He cleared his throat, looking at Sam. “Anyways, what do you need today?”
“Some more blood meal for the greenhouse,” she said. “You have the brand I like in stock?”
“Of course,” he said. “Back wall to the left.”
“Thanks, Bud,” Sam said, making her way over to where he had pointed her. “Knew I can count on you.”
He laughed again, turning back towards Danny, who hadn’t followed Sam, instead looking through the first table of plants near the register. His eyes scanned over the potted plants there, roses, dahlias, mums, before his eyes landed on one he clearly hadn’t seen before, judging by the curiosity his face betrayed.
Bud made his way over to the teenager, who had reached out to touch a petal, enamored by the red rose-like flowers and the purplish-black stems and leaves supporting them.
“You have good taste,” he said suddenly, making Danny jump and retract his arm before he was able to touch the plant, clearly not knowing he was there.
“Oh! Uh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t…” Danny cleared his throat, looking from Bud to the plant. “It’s a pretty flower. I like the colors.”
“Yeah,” Bud agreed. “They’re called blood blossoms. They ward off ghosts and can be used to hurt them. They’re known to grow where tears between the Ghost Zone and the Human Realm manifest.” He met Danny’s disbelieving look. “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Huh, sounds like something my parents would like.”
Bud raised an eyebrow. “Your parents?”
“They’re self-proclaimed ‘hunters of the supernatural,’” Danny explained, sheepishly. “I don’t really believe in any of that, especially ghosts, but like, it’s their jobs, I guess.”
He didn’t notice Bud stiffen. “Oh, they’re, uh, Hunters?”
Danny looked at him quizzically.
“I used to live in Europe,” Bud said. “It was… a very long time ago, but, when I did live there, there were quite a few Hunters. Mostly Vampire Hunters and quite a few Werewolf Hunters.”
“Europe sounds weird,” Danny said.
The bell above the door rang again.
“There’s a reason I moved to America, after all,” Bud said with a laugh as he turned to see who had entered.
The smile immediately vanished from his face as he saw his newest guests. They both didn’t look a day older than the last time he’d seen them, the only indication that time had passed was the fact that they had exchanged their cloaks and tunics for dress shirts and home-made tank tops. His eyes met Astro’s violet ones. The dreamweaver grinned slyly and waved.
“Mr. Pepper?”
Bud shook his head looking down at Danny with hollow eyes.
“Mr. Pepper?” Danny said again. “What’s wrong? You look--”
“I’m fine,” Bud interrupted, watching as Astro and Stormy pretended to make themselves interested in some clay flowerpots.
“Are you sur--” Sam asked, walking over, a bag of blood meal in each hand.
“Yes,” he answered, far too quickly to be true. “I’m good.”
Sam passed a bag to Danny and the two shared a look.
Bud quickly slipped behind the counter again, quickly tallying up her purchase. “That’ll be $23.69, Ms. Manson.”
Sam slid a $20 bill and a $5 across the counter, eyeing him curiously.
Bud could feel the eyes of every single person in the shop on him as he fumbled for her change. Sam and Danny watched him confused and concerned at his sudden change in behavior. Astro and Stormy watched him expectedly, waiting for the opportunity to talk to him. In his head, the plants murmured in nervousness aligned with his own. He slid the dollar and 31 cents back towards her, mumbling a thank you for her purchase. Sam eyed him warily, taking the change, and he knew she’d be back either later or tomorrow to check up on him. She tapped Danny on the shoulder and the two made their way to leave the shop.
Astro, seeing them make their leave, began to stride up to the counter, walking exactly like the confident bastard Bud remembered him as. Stormy followed behind, half-uninterested and half-loyal. As the two groups passed each other, Astro and Danny made eye contact, the teenager’s eyes filled with curiosity and confusion and the dreamweaver’s filled with disinterest slowly giving way to likewise curiosity. The moment lasted only a few seconds before Danny vanished out the door, yet it left Bud with an odd feeling, one he couldn’t fully describe but still left him feeling uneasy.
“This is a cozy little place you got here,” Astro said, looming towards Bud and pretending to be interested in his surroundings. “I really like the decor. I never thought I’d ever see you imprisoning plants in these little pots. Weren’t you the one arguing for ‘nature’s freedom’ and all that?”
Bud narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
Stormy laughed, an emotionless laugh befitting of his level of villainy.
“What, no ‘hello’ to your old friends?” Astro poked at a little succulent near the card reader. “What are you even going by these days?”
“Bud. Bud Pepper. And I’d hardly consider the likes of you ‘friends.’”
“Bud, Buddy, I’m wounded. I thought what we had was special.”
“Go to hell.”
“Would love to. I think it would make a great vacation.” He turned his attention away from the succulent to press both hands to the counter and smiled, sinister and menacing, at the gardener. “Now look. We’re here to get the old gang back together.”
Bud glanced at Stormy. “Looks like you’re doing a great job. You got Stormy. Congrats.”
“Looks like you found a sense of humor in the past, what, 400 years? 500?”
“I haven’t exactly been keeping track. Whatever it was feels far too short.” Bud grinned. “I could’ve used a few hundred more before seeing your face again.”
Astro scowled, seeming to contemplate how to respond before ultimately deciding to not respond to the insult. “Anyways, what do you say? I think we’re in business for a little reunion.”
“Why now? Why not 300 years ago? Why not 400? Why. Now.”
Stormy glanced at Astro, itching to say something. However, the latter held up a hand, silencing him before he could talk.
“Because I feel it’s important. Because I feel like dear old Clocky is planning something. Him and the rest of his little gang.”
“Why should I care?” Bud pushed off the counter, leaning against the wall behind him to put as much distance between him and the two as he could.
Astro leaned over the register, hair falling loosely in his eyes, making him look slightly more crazed as he attempted to invade Bud’s personal space as much as he could without stepping behind the counter. “Because you can’t fool me, Buddy. I can feel your dreams. They’re there, boiling and waiting to overflow. You can lie to yourself and you can lie to the world, but you can’t lie to me. Your dreams are identical to what they were however many centuries ago when you were with us. Why deny it?”
Bud took a shaky breath, staring him down. “No.”
“No?”
“You can reform your little league. But don’t you dare count me as a member.”
“Such a shame,” Astro said, clicking his tongue. “You were always at your best when you were with us. What’s the change? Are you scared of what is coming? Tell me, Bud Pepper, do you fear death?”
Bud clenched his jaw. “Death is a welcome guest in my shop. You, however, are not.”
“Looks like flower boy grew a spine all of a sudden,” Stormy finally said, stepping forward to join Astro at the counter. “How shocking .”
Static electricity filled the air as he spoke, a slasher grin forming on his face. Bud ignored the sparks beginning to burn his hair and let his eyes bleed from deep green to a bright, dangerous red.
Astro heard the hissing quickly, turning around as a pair of plant monsters rose from the tables, mouths snapping and teeth (which he knew without a doubt normal plants did not have) gleaming. He backed up into the counter, feeling it press uncomfortably into his back as the plants advanced. To his right, electricity flickered at Stormy’s fingertips as he prepared for the likely fight. Astro’s eyes flickered to the window, with a clear view of the surrounding area. No one was passing by then, but he was sure their luck would be quick to run out. His one advantage over the humans and his enemies was that they didn’t know what was lurking beneath the surface of this world. He didn’t want to lose that just yet.
“Fine,” he hissed. Stormy looked over at him, disappointed. “We were just leaving.” He held his hands up in surrender, the plants moving back just slightly to let him by, Stormy following like a lost puppy not far behind.
As the duo reached the door, Astro turned to look at Bud, eyes still blazing red and plants still guarding him. He gave a simple nod and nothing else, walking out the door and off down the road.
When he was out of view, Bud let the plant monsters retreat back into the sea of green on the tables. He breathed uneasily, leaning on his counter again, staring blankly at the floor. Astro was right after all. He would be a fool to think that something wasn’t amiss. He swallowed uneasily. He just hoped that whatever was happening, Clockwork had truly thought it through.
He clenched his fists and the black-eyed Susan began to wilt.
The sun was nearing the horizon by the time Danny got home. The street was almost empty, save for the occasional car passing by and Danny himself. It was quiet, peaceful, almost too so.
The glaring glow of the Fentonworks sign would flick on soon, illuminating the street in an eerie green and the soft buzzing of neon. With it would come more cars, as the workday concluded and people left to go join their families for dinner.
Danny fumbled for his keys, thinking of what he was going to grab for dinner. He had to meet his friends soon for the seminar thingy and he knew his parents had probably been in the lab all day and would likely be until late tonight. He also knew Jazz was probably at the library studying, especially given that her car was absent from her parking spot. Clicking open the door, he hoped that whatever it was for dinner wasn’t contaminated. He didn’t feel like having a meal and a literal food fight.
Setting a foot in the house, Danny wasn’t greeted by his parents, as expected, but by a loud barking and the feeling of tiny paws jumping up on his leg. He looked down and smiled.
“Hey, Beast.”
The puppy barked, wagging his tail and patting Danny’s leg.
He laughed, squatting down to pet behind Beast’s ears. “How was your day, buddy? Did you do a good job of protecting the house while I was gone?”
Beast barked as if saying “yes.”
“Well then,” Danny said, standing back up. “Let us head upstairs for your mission debriefing.” He began walking towards the stairs, Beast running in circles around his feet, pausing every now and then to attempt to chew on Danny’s pant leg.
The duo paused in the kitchen. Well, at least Danny did. Beast always seemed to be moving and his interest in nipping at Danny’s clothes would not be stopped. Danny eyed the lab door. The lab was soundproof, yet it was hard not to walk by it and not imagine the muffled sounds of his parents talking and working, the occasional hiss of a chemical reaction and the bang of hammers on nails.
Danny opened the door, not daring to step down any further. “I’m home!”
“Hi, sweetie!” That was Maddie of course. He doubted she even looked up from whatever she was working on.
He hesitated, looking down at Beast as if to ask for advice. “I’m just going to put my stuff down in my room and grab some dinner. We’re heading out tonight for extra credit!”
“Don’t be out too late!” Jack called. Much like with Maddie, Danny doubted that he even looked up.
Numbly, he even wondered if they’d heard what he’d said. While he did enjoy the freedom he got from them not really caring what he did, part of him wished they actually would attempt to show some interest.
“I won’t,” he mumbled, closing the door and leaning against it.
Beast whined, sensing that something was up. He ran a tiny circle around himself before sitting down, cocking his head to the side.
Danny laughed dryly. “Teenage angst, Beast. I’m a big old high schooler now. You better get used to it.”
The puppy barked, clearly not understanding what Danny was saying.
He pushed himself off the door, causing Beast’s ears to perk up.
“Hey, buddy,” Danny said. “Race you up to my room.” He took off quickly, resulting in Beast being a second behind him. Still, the dog quickly overtook him on the stairs, especially given that he was, in fact, a dog and Danny was a scrawny teenager who had never really been good active-wise. Beast arrived at Danny’s door a second before he did himself, out of breath and struggling to laugh.
He’d left the door partially open that morning and was able to just push it open, Beast immediately running in to make himself comfortable laying on the bed. Danny joined him a second later, throwing his backpack to the side and flopping down dramatically.
“So,” he said, turning his head to the left to look at Beast. “How was your day, buddy?”
Beast, in response, tilted his head and gave a quizzical whine.
Danny nodded. “Yeah, mine was about the same.” He sighed, closing his eyes and just allowing himself to drown in his own thoughts.
However, he quickly felt a tiny, wet nose nudge him, followed by tiny paws pressing into his abdomen. He opened one eye to see Beast standing on him, head tilting and a tiny whine drawing out of his throat. With a tired smile, he pet the dog’s head, scratching behind his ears, Beast’s favorite spot to be pet.
Above Beast, a miniature rocket hung from the ceiling. Danny, of course, knew it was there, having hung it himself. However, he still found himself staring at it, the smile quickly fading from his face. He didn’t stop petting Beast, and thus the dog didn’t seem to notice his quick change in emotion.
“Hey, Beast,” he finally said, still not catching Beast’s attention. “Y’know, for how the movies like to depict high school, it’s boring as heck.”
Beast nuzzled his head into his hand.
“Being a teenager is boring, Beast,” Danny muttered. “It’s all doing homework and hiding from popular kids.” He glanced back at the dog, eyes peeling off the model rocket. “Or at least it is for me.”
Beast, being a dog, did not give any insight into Danny’s plight, simply letting out a content sigh. Danny matched it with his own, turning his attention back to the ceiling and the rocket. It hung there perfectly still, no slight breeze from the window and no movement from either Danny or Beast rustling it. In that sense, it almost appeared frozen in time, delicate and fragile yet also completely unbreakable. The tiniest sway could push it one way or the other. Or it could entirely break it.
The ticking of the clock suddenly became very clear in Danny’s mind, reminding him of why he came home in the first place. He pushed himself off the bed, gently picking up Beast and putting him down to the side, where he promptly curled up and fell asleep. Checking himself in the mirror to make sure he looked moderately alright, he walked out the door, closing it behind him, seemingly not bothering to think about the fact that he did not own a clock which ticked but rather a digital alarm clock.
When Anesidora was little, her mother had a saying: “History is not the mistakes of long-dead men, but of every minor action of those still living.” Even as a child, she had questioned the validity of that statement (and she had especially questioned it while doing her undergraduate studies), but regardless of whether history included the dead, the living, both, or neither, she had never understood her mother’s words more than she did on that Thursday afternoon, standing on a hillside just outside town, watching the sun begin to set over the trees.
The soft crunch of grass alerted her to Jon’s presence as he joined her. He didn’t speak, his mind seemingly on the same topic hers was on. She snuck a glance at him, noticing the hollow look in his eyes before anything else. It was odd seeing this seriousness in him. He was usually the first of the three of them to crack a joke to lighten the situation. However, the time for jokes was not now, leaving him with nothing but his calm wisdom. Even dressed in heavier clothes than Anesidora was, clothes much too heavy for the warm September evening, he looked cold, his face flushed blue and ice forming on his eyelashes. He was nervous, she noticed. He was nervous and, as much as he wanted to hide it, his ice powers were seeping through now that his mind was elsewhere.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked with a faint, pitying smile.
He frowned, moving his jaw in a way that she could tell he was biting the inside of his lip. “I don’t…” He sighed. “He has my full trust, you know.”
She stayed quiet waiting as he paused to gather his thoughts. Internally, she added, Me too.
“But… We’re the good guys, right?” He looked her in the eyes, looking for some sort of confirmation.
“Jon, we’re far too old to be thinking in terms of heroes and villains.” She smiled somberly. “That’s child’s talk.”
“I know, I know, I… I meant, we’re doing the right thing, right?”
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself ever since…” She trailed off, her eyes going unfocused as she thought back to that fateful day.
“Me too,” he said. “Me too. This will… it will help us. I know that. But humans… humans fear what they don’t understand.”
“And what they can’t control,” Anesidora added. “Many witches and mediums learned that the hard way.”
“Indeed,” Jon said. “I’m just worried we’re exposing these humans to their own species. Marking them as others.”
“We’ve had this conversation,” she noted. “And that’s something we have to live with.”
“Yeah,” he agreed and then went silent, his eyes falling back on the sunset.
She joined him, watching as it began to fall behind the horizon. Night would soon be among them and she watched as the fairy lights the two of them had hung up in the vicinity began to illuminate the area. In a few minutes, the first humans would be arriving and she knew as well as Jon that the two of them couldn’t be here when it went down. The side effects were unknown, especially on nonhumans.
“What if we get it wrong?” she said suddenly, feeling as he turned to look at her. “What if it goes bad? What if the side effects are too much for their bodies to handle? What if… what if we create something far worse?”
“The fear of the unknown is often a hindrance to discovery,” Jon said. “We know what we hope to do and what we hope to do is our expected outcome. We can’t go back, Dory. If we fail, we run. And if we fail, we know what we did wrong.” He eyed the setting sun. “We should go. The Vapor is not meant for superhumans.”
She looked around the area, the fairy lights and the orange-pink sky making it seem beautiful. She hoped it would be a beautiful place of rebirth, of hope, and not a beautiful graveyard. Jon cleared his throat, catching her attention, and offered out an elbow. She took it, resting her head on his shoulder. He paused for a second to rest his on top of hers, a moment of peace between age-old friends, before the inevitable storm that they both knew was about to occur. With that, they took off, calmly walking into the woods and vanishing among the trees.
The last shreds of sunlight were peaking through the trees by the time Danny had arrived at his destination, a small clearing near the observatory but out of sight from the rest of the town. He pushed past the fairy lights hanging around the area to find a small crowd of people had gathered there, not enough to fill the entire area but enough to be considered a crowd. Still, it took a moment for him to catch sight of his friends across the way, standing in a circle chatting.
With a smile, he began to make his way towards them before being yanked back abruptly. He glanced down to see Beast had bit his own leash. His mom had caught him on the way out and said he had to take the dog for a walk. He figured taking Beast with him counted as a walk.
“C’mon, buddy,” he said, lightly tugging back. “We got to go see our friends.”
Beast whined, not loosening his grip and resisting Danny’s pull. The dog’s eyes flickered around at the people and the sky, which made Danny frown. Beast was the kind of dog who barely feared anything and he certainly did not fear people, even in large crowds. Regardless, something was bothering him.
Danny glanced at his friends. Dora seemed to be showing off a new jacket to Amber while Sidney listened intently, clutching a notebook and a pen to his chest. Danielle stood off to the side, clearly listening but also pretty clearly waiting for him. She was a part of their friend group certainly but she was also definitely closer to Danny, being his cousin and all that.
Sighing, he turned back to Beast, who was still trying to pull Danny back, crouching down to his level to look at him better.
“Hey, what’s wrong, buddy?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”
Beast whined, glancing around and continuing to tug on his leash. His ears were pressed against his skull, all his fur standing on end. He looked like he would’ve bolted if not for Danny being there.
Danny frowned. Reaching out he gently placed a hand on Beast’s head. The dog cautiously looked around before pressing his head against the hand. In response, Danny slid closer to him, wrapping his arms around him and lifting him up to cradle him, allowing him to continue to chew on the leash, squeezing him carefully to comfort him. He continued to shake but quickly stopped whining, nuzzling into his owner as much as he could.
Satisfied, Danny turned back around, dog in arms, and made his way over to his friends, weaving through groups of people chatting. He recognized a few people from around town, mostly people he’d seen at the grocery school or the Nasty Burger. A couple he knew by name but not many.
“You got that jacket there?” Amber said as Danny approached, still wrapped up in her conversation with Dora. “For that cheap? Damn. Did they have it in any other colors? I might need to grab one myself.”
Dora nodded, adjusting the seafoam jacket. “Yeah, they had a pretty shade of red and black. I think the black would do you good. You look good in black.”
“Aw, thanks, babypop.” Amber seemed to hear Danny approaching, turning to look at him. “Oh, hey, Danny.”
“Hey, Am,” he said. “Did I miss anything?”
“Just Dora getting a good deal on that cute jacket.” She looked down at Beast. “Oh, you brought your puppy.”
Beast seemed to perk up at the sight of the four of them, if ever so slightly, letting Amber reach out and pet him.
“Yeah,” Danny said. “Mom wanted me to take him on a walk so I figured he could come. Dora, I thought you couldn’t make it?”
She suddenly looked bashful, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “I, um, sort of snuck out.”
Sidney did a double-take. “You snuck out?”
Amber broke out into a wide grin. “Attagirl! We’ll make a rebellious teenager out of you, yet!”
“Yeah,” Dora mumbled. “As long as my brother doesn’t find out.”
Danny and Sidney glanced worryingly at each other. They both knew her brother, Aragon, after all and he really was a piece of work. Unfortunately, he was Dora’s legal guardian, her parents having died years prior and him being the closest adult family member.
“Hey, Danny,” Danielle finally spoke up. “Where’s Sam and Tuck?”
“Tucker’s grounded,” Danny said. “He texted me while I was walking home. Something involving hacking and Mr. Lancer?”
“Nice,” Amber commented. “Not sure what he did but if he hacked Lancer, he’s got my approval.”
Danny muffled a snort. “And Sam’s being forced to attend some business conference with her parents. I helped her grab her plant stuff and brought her home and her dad immediately started talking about it.”
“Ouch,” Danielle said, wincing. “That sounds even more boring than whatever this is.”
Sidney frowned. “It’s a leadership lecture.” He gestured to his notebook. “Lancer’s giving us extra credit for it. Did you guys not get the email?”
“No,” Danny said. “We only knew about it ‘cause you told us.”
“Well, it’s extra credit,” Sidney said. “You guys better pay attention.”
“Probably won’t,” Amber said, stretching and leaning against a nearby tree. “Besides, what do you need extra credit for? You’re like a fucki--”
“Language,” Danny hissed, squeezing Beast closer to him and moving one hand to cover one of the dog’s ears. “There’s a baby here.”
Amber glared at him. “You’re an effing genius, Sid.”
Sidney shrugged. “I’d like to have a cushion there. And, hey, extra credit is extra credit.”
“She doesn’t have a point, Sid,” Danielle said. “You get As on like everything. Wasn’t that why Dash was coming after you this afternoon?”
“Well, yeah. Before he turned his attention onto this self-sacrificing idiot.” He gestured to Danny, who pouted.
“If you want, I’ll leave you to Dash’s mercy next time.” He adjusted how he was holding Beast. “Why would I leave you to get bullied into submission when I could help?”
“Keep talking like that and you’ll get bitten by a spider in no time,” Amber mumbled. “What’s that Spider-Man saying again?”
“‘With great power comes great responsibility,’” Danny said. “Besides, not sure if I want to be Spider-Man. Not sure how I feel about having sticky hands.”
“Let’s be fair, Danny,” Sidney said, adjusting his glasses and glancing around for any indication that the lecture was about to start. “If any one of us would get to be a superhero, it would 100% be you.”
Danny frowned. “Well, yeah, you think I want to be stuck as a boring nobody in high school forever? I want some fun in life, Sid. I want to do something meaningful. Be something meaningful.”
“Poetic,” Sidney muttered.
“Haha, thanks,” Danny responded mockingly, gently letting Beast back down now that his shaking had mostly stopped. “Remind me not to make you my superhero sidekick. Besides, I don’t think my parents would approve of me being a superhero. Fairly sure that falls under their whole ‘anti-superhuman’ stance.”
Amber groaned. “They still on that stuff?”
“Have been since before I was born. ‘Superhumans,’ ghosts, vampires, the full cuckoo gang.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe I believed in ghosts and stuff as a kid but even I grew out of it. Kind of embarrassing to have your parents still believing in it.”
Danielle winced. “Sorry, Danny. Aunt Maddie and Uncle Jack are pretty cool otherwise. My parents are just kind of boring.”
“Yeah, but at least they’re cool. You get to go on fun vacations all the time.”
“Oh, aren’t you leaving on another trip tomorrow?” Dora said. “Where are you going tomorrow?”
“Barcelona, again,” Danielle muttered. “Dad’s got business there for the fourth year in a row. It’s nice but I like exploring new places. And I’m not really looking forward to the abroad homework Lancer’s giving me.”
Danny snorted. Her father was a representative for some company and her mother was a professional photographer. They traveled frequently as her father communicated with potential business opportunities and abroad versions of his company. Sometimes her mother would stay home and other times she went to go get new pictures, dragging Danielle along. He knew she enjoyed travel but he also knew she hated not being around her friends. Plus, she really didn’t like the fact that school still gave her homework when she was abroad due to some deal her parents had worked out with them.
“Oh, I have cousins who just moved to Barcelona,” Dora said. “They just moved there around two months ago from Zaragoza.”
“Oh, I’ve been to Zaragoza,” Danielle responded. “It was pretty nice.”
Danny zoned the two of them out, finally allowing himself a chance to look around the area. It was a tiny clearing, fairy lights marking the perimeter. A folding table was placed on the other side of the clearing from their little group, covered in a plastic purple tablecloth. On it was a charcuterie board and a few bottles of wine, no drinks that were appropriate for young teenagers. The rest of the clearing was full of people gathering in groups, quite a few adults holding clear plastic cups of wine. No one seemed to have touched the charcuterie board. Oddly enough, Danny noticed with a frown, there was no place for a speaker to stand to distinguish themselves from a crowd, no stage, no podium, not even any markings in the grass. There wasn’t even any place for the crowd to sit. Overall, it looked like someone had tried to make it look like a nice and fancy lecture but had ultimately spent all their funds on wine and expensive cheese and given up the rest of the way.
His thoughts were interrupted by a very familiar voice not a single one of them wanted to hear, unfortunately.
“Dorathea Joanna Hydra.” The voice was calm and collected yet anger leaked through with each syllable of her name.
Out of the corner of his eye, Danny noticed Sidney tense up in nervousness and Amber and Danielle straighten up, ready to do something if the speaker even dared to do anything out of line. Dora suddenly seemed much more interested in her dress than anything else again.
Aragon shoved Danny roughly to the side, nearly stepping on Beast, who was still nervously chewing on his leash, and made his way to his sister.
“Hi, Aragon,” Amber said angrily. “How can we help you today?”
“You can be quiet first and foremost, girl,” he hissed, snatching Dora’s wrist and digging his nails into her skin. “And you, Dorathea, should be at home. I did not give you permission to go out.”
“She doesn’t need your permission,” Danielle snapped. “You’re not the boss of her.”
Aragon glared at her, ignoring Dora desperately trying to squirm out of his grasp, pain etched into her face. “You should be more polite to those older than you.”
“You’re like, what, seven years older than me? You’re no elder. Let her go.” Danielle looked ready to pounce at him.
Danny wanted to butt in and tell her she really wasn’t helping but he bit his tongue. At his feet, Beast finally dropped the leash, growling and even barking twice. This caught the attention of the surrounding crowd including two men in police uniforms, who looked like they were considering jumping in between the two siblings.
“You, dear sister--” Aragon yanked at Dora’s arm, causing her to stumble forward. “--are going home right this instant.” He shoved Danny aside again, this time actually kicking Beast to get him out of his way and ignoring the dog’s yelp or Danny’s immediate concern.
“Aragon, please!” Dora pleaded, eyeing the police officers, who still had yet to move. “...It’s for extra credit.”
Danny knelt down to check on Beast, making sure that he wasn’t injured and fussing over him. Sidney watched, worried, as Dora managed to tear herself out of Aragon’s grip near the boundary of fairy lights, saying something to him that the rest could not hear. Amber and Danielle glared after them, both clearly considering going after them. Overall, the crowd had gone back to normal, the police officers seemingly deciding to do nothing.
Amber sighed, starting to walk towards where Dora was pleading with an ever increasingly mad Aragon. Danielle moved towards Danny’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, guys?” Sidney said. “What’s that?”
Danny and Danielle turned to look at where he was looking. Judging by the lack of movement where she’d been, it was clear Amber had also stopped in her tracks.
Opposite the entrance to the clearing, a cloud of what looked like a thick mist had begun to form. A murmur spread among the crowd as it began to seep in, weaving through people’s feet. Danny stood back up, gripping Beast’s leash, Danielle’s hand not leaving his shoulder. He glanced over at Aragon and Dora to see that the former had, once again, grabbed her arm, yet neither of them seemed to be leaving, both watching the mist with curiosity and slight fear.
Beast gave a cry of pain that forced Danny to snap his head back down towards him in panic. The mist was up to his knees and was obscuring his vision, he couldn’t see Beast at all, yet he could feel him at the end of the leash.
“Beast?” Danny said, worried and terrified. “Beast?”
“Guys!” Sidney yelled.
Danny’s head snapped back to see that Sidney had been consumed completely by what looked like a wall of the opaque mist. He barely had time to blink as it consumed him too.
A wave of… not quite pain but something sharp and uncomfortable spread through his body almost immediately. It didn’t hurt but it sent his senses into overdrive. Everything was all too much all at once. Too loud, too bright, too… aware. He could feel everything around him all at once, the grass, the trees, the stupid fairy lights, Danielle’s hand on his shoulder, everyone in the clearing. His legs collapsed out from under him, sending him falling to the ground, Danielle finally letting go in response. The grass blanketed him, blades of it tickling where his skin was exposed. He could feel every single blade, every difference in texture in his clothes, even the rough nylon of the dog leash wrapped around his hand. The air was heavy in his lungs, every fiber of his being screaming at him to stop it stop breathing stop breathing STOP BREATHING.
He gasped for air, the heavy mist settling more and more into his lungs, making his body scream in weird discomfort. He felt like he was being torn apart, in all directions all at once. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t do anything but breathe, as much as his body tried to protest. He had to keep breathing. He didn’t know what was going on, what was happening, but he knew that he needed to breathe. He needed to breathe to stay alive. His body begging for him to stop.
He took a deep breath and everything slammed to black.