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reallydumbdannyphantomaus · 2 years

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hey!!! so i'm posting a day earlier than i said i would. really, i'm just impatient by nature. kwan's, uh, struggling in this one. (ao3) (masterpost)

Part 2 Chapter 6

Kwan didn’t mean to ignore Danny. It’s just that Danny seemed to want this to be about him and it wasn’t. Just like Mom since the news came out, Danny was pushing and pushing for him to talk about it. Tyson dying had nothing to do with him. He didn’t need comfort or whatever. He wasn’t avoiding Danny, he was avoiding the awkwardness of Danny trying to soothe him.

Okay, maybe he was avoiding Danny.

Kwan didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t sad right now, but talking about it would make him miserable. The assembly was unbearable; all that emotion and eulogy nonsense—it’s like they were trying to make him cry. He wasn’t even friends with Tyson anymore. He had no business crying over him. Putting in his headphones, he listened to a football podcast instead.

The gym doors swung closed behind him and he headed the throng of students moving toward the classrooms. Pete Prisco was theorizing that the Patriots would be back on top of their division by the end of the month; Jason LaCanfora called him an idiot. Kwan hoped LaCanfora was right; Dash was always a huge Patriots fan.

Maybe he should get his own team. The Dolphins? No, if he picks a rival of the Patriots to spite Dash that’s still making the decision about Dash. Maybe the Bengals? No, their uniforms were ugly. The Panthers? Did he want to watch a whole team just for Christian McCaffrey?

This bore thinking about. Way more thinking about than being sad.

As he was mulling on the merits of becoming a Colts fan (pros: Indianapolis is close enough that he could maybe go to some games; cons: they suck), he bumped into someone as he tried to push through the door of his Creative Writing class.

“Watch it,” he said without looking.

The person scoffed. “You bumped into me, dick.”

Normally, turning to see Sam Manson, hands on hips and glaring at him, would’ve caused his heart to stutter in anxiety. Today, though, Kwan just felt exhausted. His shoulders slumped and the straps of his backpack slipped down.

“Whatever,” he said. He fixed his eyes back on the floor and shuffled toward his desk, dropping his bag to the floor with a thunk.

Manson frowned at him. “Are you… okay?”

Jesus. Why did everyone keep asking him that? Manson didn’t even like him.

Kwan rolled his eyes and said, “If I’m ever not, I’ll make sure you’re the first I call.”

“Tell me something: do you have to try to be such a dick, or does it come naturally.”

“You already called me a dick ten seconds ago. Get some new material, Manson.” Kwan put his head in his arms. “And go to your own desk.”

The thing was: Kwan knew he was being a jerk. He knew that Manson was actually trying to be nice to him. It’s just that anyone being nice to him right now felt kind of like swallowing glass, felt like reaching into his stomach with a red hot poker and swirling it around. They should save their niceness for Tyson’s older brother, for his father and mother, even for Dash and Valerie.

Kwan wasn’t even friends with him anymore.

“You know, you already stole my best friend. You could at least act like a person to me.”

“Danny’s his own person. He makes his own choices.”

“You know what I mean.” Manson moved like she was going to sit down, then stopped and turned back. “Is he… is he doing alright?”

Kwan blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s okay.”

“Because I know he wasn’t doing so great earlier, and I’m sure our fight didn’t help, and Tucker said—I just, he’s okay, right?”

Kwan met her eyes for the first time. “He will be. And—and he’ll come to you when he’s ready. Promise.��

Manson bit her lip, nodded once, and finally, finally sat down. Kwan turned his attention to his desk, scribbling on a sheet of paper.

He was only vaguely aware when Ms. Suarez closed the door and began class. He doodled in the margins of his notebook as Ms. Suarez discussed the concept of ekphrasis and the ekphrastic poem. Normally, this was the only class he could focus on, but today, he couldn’t hear anything over the buzzing in his head.

He moved through the rest of his classes the same way. Like he was wading in the ocean, struggling against the waves for each step forward. He ate lunch in the library. He stared out the window in English. His notebook was covered with little pictures of the ectopus and the robot ghost even though looking at them made him kind of queasy.

—

He barely noticed when Danny split off from him after school, going to his own house instead of Kwan’s, and he walked the rest of the way home alone.

He walked in, said hello to Mom, ignoring her questions as he slipped into his room. He kept his answers monosyllabic through dinner, picked at his food, then excused himself and collapsed in bed.

The next day, he kept to himself again. Danny kept trying to talk to him, but he avoided him in the hallways. He was just tired of people being worried. He just wanted to be left alone.

He ate lunch in the library, again. Didn’t look at Danny. Didn’t wait for Danny after class, instead jogged out of the school and home before Danny could said one word to him.

“No Danny again today?” Mom said as he walked in the door.

“No.” He dropped his bag on the floor and moved toward his room, avoiding his mother’s eyes as best he could. He just had to get out of here before—

“Honey,” Mom said, “are you alright?”

Before that.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

“You are not.”

“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me how I feel?” Something hot and ugly was bubbling in his chest, ready to burst out. He was so sick of this, of having to deal with everyone’s concern for no reason.

“I don’t know how you feel, but I’d wager that ‘fine’ doesn’t factor in.”

“Well, I’d feel better if people would stop bothering me and leave me alone.”

“Kwan.”

“What?”

“Do you want to have this conversation now or later?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation at all. And I don’t need it, either.”

Mom held up her hands in retreat. “Okay! Okay. I’ll table this conversation for the rest of the day, if you do just one thing for me.”

Kwan groaned, setting his bag on the floor. When Mom got an idea in her head, she was impossible to talk out of it. If it wasn’t today, sometime soon he was going to have to sit down and talk about his feelings with her because she’d decided that he had to be sad about what happened.

Well, it was sad. Just not sad for him in particular. Sad for Tyson.

Still, he’d take his one day reprieve. Maybe she’d forget in the meantime.

(She would not forget. He knew she would not forget.)

“Would you come with me to the park? I think we could both use some sun and fresh air.”

Kwan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

The walk to the park was short, filled with Mom’s idle chatter about her day, about the patients she saw, about her frustration with one particular nurse who couldn’t seem to figure out how to put in an IV (“I know she’s new, but she’s been new for about six months now and she ought to have learned something in that time”). It was nice, not to have to react beyond a considering hmm.

Mom led him to a park bench that had been warmed in the sun all day. The air was cool, but not chilly. In the sun, it was nearly warm enough to take off his jacket. Mom stopped talking, instead taking the spot next to him and grabbing his hand.

Just sitting on the bench, Kwan could feel the gentle, low warmth of the late autumn sun hit his face. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, ignoring the nip of the wind at his chin and ears and focusing on the energy of the sun.

Of course, it couldn’t last.

“It’s okay to grieve, hon. Even if you weren’t friends anymore.”

“Cool,” he said, keeping his eyes closed.

“I know he wasn’t your best friend, not like Dash, but you invited him to your birthday party last year. You made him cupcakes when he made the football team. You loved him. That doesn’t go away after a month.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to talk about this.”

“I’m just worried about you. This isn’t something you should ignore.”

“There’s nothing to ignore!”

Mom buried her face in her hands. “I’m not a therapist, baby, I don’t know the right words to say. I just know you’re hurting and I want to help.”

“Why don’t you try helping me by listening to what I’m actually saying, not what you’ve decided is wrong with me?”

Whatever Mom was going to say, she was cut off as people started to scream. To the side, he saw a sickening green glow. Another one, then. He was almost grateful; at least it got him out of this conversation.

“We need to go,” Mom said, reaching into her bag. “I will call the Fentons myself, and then we’re leaving.”

The glow was getting closer. “Uh, Mom?”

Mom turned just as the ghost (some kind of green panther? Except, no, it just shapeshifted into a giant wasp. Great) crested the hill into their line of sight. “Now!” she said. She grabbed Kwan’s hand and pulled.

Kwan stood, still feeling sluggish from the day's events, and turned to follow. This was why he didn’t notice as the shapeshifting ghost flew directly at him, turning into a gorilla just as it landed on him.

“Kwan!” his mother screamed as he felt one of his ribs snap. Or maybe he was screaming. How had Danny put up with this so well? It felt like his torso was on fire.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her holding the stupid Fenton thermos, shaking like a leaf everywhere except her ever-steady hands. She fired it at the gorilla on his chest, but the gorilla batted it away like it was nothing.

“Another kid, too!” the ghost said. “She’ll be so happy with me for this one.” Then it lowered its fangs to Kwan’s throat.

Kwan had heard that your life flashed before your eyes when you were about to die. He didn’t know if that was true for other people, but the only thing in his head as his death approached was a prayer he couldn’t speak: oh no, don’t let my mom watch me die.

And maybe he should take up religion, because the godawful, unrelenting pressure on his chest suddenly vanished.

“Kwan! Kwan, baby, are you alright? Can you speak?” And his mom was there, gently cradling his head in her lap, holding him at an angle so that he could just barely see the shape of Danny, in his ghost form, brawling with the other ghost, now in the shape of a bear.

(Of course it wasn’t a god. Of course it was Danny.)

“If you can’t speak, then could you blink for me? Once for yes, twice for no.”

“I can—” he coughed and his ribs burned “—I can talk. I’m okay.”

Mom laughed. “I don’t think any of us are okay right now, but I’m so, so happy you’re alive.”

Tears pricked at Kwan’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said, voice wobbling, “I’m happy I’m alive, too.”

He passed out.

—

“Is he okay?”

Kwan bumbled back into awareness like swimming through so much molasses. He could hear the world around him, someone (Danny?) talking, but he hadn’t quite found his way back to the place where he could open his eyes or move his mouth.

“He’ll be fine.” That was Mom. She sounded so tired. He should let her know that he’s awake.

Once his mouth works again.

“I owe you an apology.”

“You don’t have to—"

“I do. You were right.” Mom sighed. Something was beeping in the background, making it harder to hear the next thing she said. “I just… I couldn’t let you put yourself in danger like that. Except I could, it turns out, to save Kwan.”

“Hey, I came out of it fine this time!”

“I know. But you won’t always.”

“… I know.”

“I don’t know what the answer is. But if you hadn’t been there, then Kwan would’ve died. I was useless. Your parents didn’t get there until the ghost was already gone. You came from halfway across town and got there just in time.”

“Maybe there’s a compromise.”

A shaky laugh. “A compromise, huh?”

“Yeah. Maybe… maybe I can just fight until we figure out something else. Just until my parents finish their exoskeleton or the government becomes aware of ghosts and can do something about it.”

“A stopgap.”

“Yeah.”

Mom sighed again. “I can’t believe I’m compromising on having a child fight deadly ghosts.”

“Sorry?”

“Not your fault. Just what it is.”

Before Kwan could breach the surface, a wave crashed down and dragged him back under.

—

“I thought getting injured was my thing,” Danny said when Kwan finally opened his eyes.

Kwan dragged his lips into a smile. “You can take it back, dude. Tried it. Didn’t like it.”

He was in a hospital room; he had fuzzy memories of waking up once before, but the specifics of the encounter eluded his sleep-addled mind. Danny and Mom were there, he was sure.

Danny chuckled. “Your mom’s getting you checked out,” he said. “The doctor was ready to let you go a while ago, but you took your sweet time waking up. Apparently, your body needed the sleep.”

Kwan flushed. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time since the mall attack. He hoped Mom didn’t put it together; she’d use it as another excuse to pester him about Tyson.

Danny’s hands were on the bed, fiddling with his hospital blanket. The silence stretched on for a long moment.

“What?”

“You look like you want to say something.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Danny’s eyes shifted down to Kwan’s feet. “I just—are we good? You’ve been avoiding me for a couple days.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. I didn’t mean—I just wanted to be left alone for a little bit, there. Mom keeps trying to get me to—talk about feelings, or whatever. I’m just sick of it is all.”

“Is there… something to talk about?”

“No! Fuck!” Kwan slammed his head against the back of the hospital bed, ignoring the dull twinge of his side. “Not you too.”

Danny held up his hands in surrender. “Okay! Just asking.”

Kwan sighed. “I know. I know. I’m just… really, really sick of it.”

“Okay. I won’t ask again. Promise.” Danny held out his pinky.

Kwan laughed and shook his head. “You’re still such a dork.” But he wrapped his pinky around Danny’s, and felt something warm and glowing in his chest.

—

“So,” the man in the white suit said, “your injuries came from… a wild gorilla? In Indiana?”

“Maybe it escaped from the zoo,” Kwan said, scratching at the bandages on his chest. Mom nudged his hand away. “How should I know?”

The man had introduced himself as “Agent O” and said he had some questions to ask about Kwan’s attack. Mom hadn’t wanted to let him through the door, but he’d pushed his way through anyway and when she told him to leave, he rested his hand on the gun at his hip. Mom closed her mouth with an audible click.

Kwan had spent the last ten hours since being released from the hospital propped up on the couch, still woozy from whatever drugs they’d given him. He wasn’t sure if it was because of this haziness or not, but he couldn’t figure out why a government suit was so interested in an animal attack.

“Hm,” Agent O said. He scribbled something in his notebook. “And what color was the gorilla?”

Well, the gorilla had been green. And not always a gorilla. But he shouldn’t say that, right?

“I was… more focused on it trying to kill me.” Yeah. That could work.

“Really? You didn’t notice the color at all? Nothing about its appearance stuck out to you?”

Who was this guy?

“That’s what he said,” Mom said before Kwan could try to put together a sentence. “Now, who did you say you worked for?”

Agent O pursed his lips and stood up. “Thank you for your… cooperation. We’ll be in touch.”

Mom’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of my house.”

“Of course. Mrs. Huang. Mr. Huang.”

And the agent left, closing the door with a soft click.

A moment passed. Mom picked up one of the spare throw pillows lying in the room and threw it at the door, letting out a screech.

“To come in here—no warrant, no name, no agency even—to come in here while my child is injured and interrogate him, to badger him while he’s still—and to threaten me! To put your hand on your gun in my house! I just—he just—” Mom grabbed another pillow, held it to her face, and screamed.

Kwan’s brain took the opportunity to catch up with what was going on. “Did that guy… did he know it wasn’t a normal gorilla?”

“I don’t know, baby. Maybe. That whole interaction was… sketchy.” Mom ran her hand through her hair and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for freaking out like that. He just… he gave me the willies.”

Yeah. He’d given Kwan the willies too.

Mom moved to replace the pillows to their rightful spots, humming under her breath. It was nice. Peaceful, even. Until:

“We do need to talk, though.”

Oh no. That was never good. Kwan thought back to what had happened yesterday, just before the attack. He had a sneaking suspicion.

“About Tyson?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. And now he was only kind of mobile, so he couldn’t escape the conversation. He stared at the arm of the couch, picking at the fibers. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You know that’s not true.”

It would be if he tried hard enough.

“Now,” Mom said, “you don’t have to talk to me, but you do have to talk to someone. I’ve arranged for you to meet with the new grief counselor at school when you go back on Monday. Either you can talk to her then, or me now. Take your pick.”

Kwan groaned. He had no good choices, it seemed. Well, maybe the grief counselor would finally believe him when he said he was fine. If she didn’t, at least he doesn’t have to deal with her until Monday.

“Fine, if it will make you calm down, I’ll go talk to the grief counselor so she can tell you herself that I’m fine.”

Mom smiled. “Wonderful! I’ll let Dr. Spectra know to expect you Monday morning.”

“Yeah.” Kwan sighed. “Wonderful.”

#danny phantom #dp switch #bug posts #my fic #kwan #my writing #he's so sad!!!!!!#what a boy #anyway its a day early because i am incapable of waiting

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