Ectober Day 4: Box and Staff
Title: Sleepy Time
Word Count: 5243
AO3 Link
Summary:
Danny is a very sleepy ghost boy and at this point anything qualifies as a bed.
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What Danny wouldn’t give for just one peaceful night. One night where he could lie down, fall fast asleep, and stay asleep for a humane amount of hours. No matter how often he patrolled, it seemed there was always a ghost waiting to attack at the unholy hour of 2AM.
The entire weekend had followed this pattern, with ghost attacks interspersed throughout the day. Skulker woke Danny up with a loud, resounding shout Friday night that had his parents up in arms. Between running Skulker a safe distance away– determined not to have another fight destroy part of the lab– and his parents chasing after, firing indiscriminately, Danny had no chance to rest that night.
He still had traces of a bruise on his chin from that particular debacle.
Saturday had been little better when Technus decided that their neighbor’s old sedan fit perfectly with his latest collection of tech. There were still trees blocking part of the road outside their house from the bulky machine careening down the street.
Sunday followed this same pattern, with Johnny 13 making a mad dash away from Amity Park on his motorcycle, forcing Danny to chase after him. They’d almost wound up in West Virginia by the time Danny caught him, and the lonely flight back took what little energy he had left at that point.
Danny thought he might finally get some rest when he returned to Illinois and sank into his bed– until an ectopus drifted past his bedroom window.
The ectopus hardly put up a fight, but Danny struggled to fall asleep afterwards, waking up at random intervals, tossing and turning. By the time the sun rose, Danny stared out his window with squinted eyes, groaning.
Of course he had to have school today. He already had a headache.
Danny dragged his feet through the halls of Casper High, head hung low, messy black bangs draped over his eyes as he made his way to his locker. Tucker already stood there waiting for him and gave a sympathetic ‘oof’ when Danny smacked his head against the door to his locker.
“Another bad night, then?” Tucker asked, patting Danny on the shoulder.
Danny lifted his head just high enough to smack it back against the locker with a clang.
“Ow…” he mumbled, wincing as his headache pounded.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tucker observed.
Danny turned his head to look up at Tucker. His friend was several inches taller now, though that didn’t say much when Danny barely brushed five feet.
“I think I slept maybe two hours all weekend,” Danny groaned.
Tucker grimaced. “You gonna be okay, dude? You sure you can make it today?”
Danny stood up straight long enough to root through his locker and pull out the books he needed for the day. He shoved them into his backpack and fought with the zipper to close it.
“At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I make it through our first class,” Danny grumbled, teeth gritted as he tugged harder on the zipper.
Yanking too hard, Danny accidentally ripped the zipper clean off of his bag.
Staring at the piece of shattered metal in his hand, Danny slumped back against his locker, shut his eyes, and rhythmically smacked the back of his head against it.
“Yikes, what’s eating him?” Danny heard Sam ask.
“No sleep again, and he just decimated the zipper on his bag,” Tucker said.
Sam audibly sighed. Danny felt a hand grab his arm and pull him away from his locker.
“You get enough blows to the head without giving yourself more of them,” Sam said. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
Sam helped Danny get his bag rearranged, but there wasn’t much they could do for the zipper. They managed to strap it closed with an old cable, but it looked an absolute mess. At least the thermos wouldn’t fall out of the bag, which was frankly all that mattered to Danny. He had a spare bag at home he could swap it out with later.
Danny tried his best to stay awake during his first class, but it seemed as if the universe was conspiring against him. Danny sat by the window and the warm sunlight filtering through the blinds dragged his eyelids low. It was all he could do to resist the urge to curl up on his desk like a cat and soak in the warmth.
It didn’t help that Mr. Lancer’s history lesson droned into a monotonous lecture. Mr. Lancer usually tried to show some level of enthusiasm for what he was teaching, but it seemed even he had no interest in the particular branch of US history they were learning. That or, judging by the way he pinched at his tear ducts, he might simply have had a migraine.
Between lack of sleep, his sun-warmed desk, and the droning lecture, Danny was asleep within five minutes.
Mercifully, Tucker noticed in time to shake him awake. Danny gave him an awkward thumbs up over his shoulder.
This proceeded to happen no less than three times, until Tucker just took to rhythmically kicking the back of Danny’s seat to keep him awake. That worked for a while, but Danny eventually still managed to slip back into a light doze.
When the bell rang, Danny startled awake, lurching as his head fell out of his hand and he tipped dangerously to the side. He jumped to his feet, as though ready to fight something, and only calmed when Tucker patted his shoulder.
“Come on, Spooky, there’s nothing to punch,” he said.
Blushing slightly, Danny gathered his mess of a bag and slung it over his shoulder. He followed Tucker to the front of the class, pausing when Mr. Lancer cleared his throat.
“Mr. Fenton, I expect you to be more alert in time for my English quiz,” he said while rubbing at his left temple.
Danny nodded his head. “Sorry, I will be,” he mumbled.
Mr. Lancer gave a firm nod and went back to reading from the book on his desk. Danny quickly sped to catch up with Tucker at the door. They met with Sam in the hall and headed for gym class.
Danny grabbed his gym clothes and took them to the toilet stalls to change as usual. It was a hot day, easily over eighty degrees, but Danny kept his red sweatshirt on over his gym clothes. He’d rather flare his core to keep cool than go without it.
Unfortunately, flaring his core required using more energy. It was fine at first when their class walked down the field to play soccer, but Danny quickly lost steam from there. He trudged along beside Tucker, who stuck resolutely close to the slight chill Danny put off. It was a struggle to keep up the pretense of trying– though Dash helped, in an ironic way. He kept kicking the ball towards (at) Danny, and running past him close enough to knock shoulders. With him constantly engaging Danny, it at least gave the appearance of him participating. Danny could have done without the bruises to his shoulder, but at least Ms. Tetslaff wasn’t yelling at him.
Still, by the time they headed back towards the gym, Danny wasn’t able to keep the chill of his core flared enough to stave off the heat. He leaned miserably against Sam, letting her half-drag him up the hill. She reviewed book notes for their English quiz as they walked, though Danny hardly absorbed the words.
Between Tucker keeping him awake in class, and Sam almost carrying him, Danny owed his friends big time. He wasn’t sure where he’d be without them.
Probably in a ditch somewhere.
(Asleep, that is. The dying thing had already sailed.)
Danny welcomed their lunch period with open arms, prepared to put his head down and have a well-deserved nap.
Unfortunately, a ghost had other ideas.
The timing was impressive, in all honesty. No sooner had Danny pillowed his head on his arms, sighing contently, when that sigh turned into a puff of blue mist.
The expletive he shouted drew a few stares.
It didn't take long for Danny to find the culprit. A loud crashing sound echoed from the hallway outside the cafeteria. After darting in the restroom to transform, Danny followed the noise.
He found Boxy wreaking havoc on the science department, upending what appeared to be boxes of new lab equipment. Danny watched as one of the boxes tipped upside down. It sent a large package of beakers crashing to the ground, smashing Danny's own record within seconds.
Were he better rested and thinking straight, Danny might have been able to save the rest of the supplies from destruction. Seeing as he was barely awake and squinting through bleary eyes, however, it didn't occur to Danny to catch any of the boxes when he souped the Box Ghost from the air.
The rest of the lab equipment crashed down in Boxy's absence, the sound a monstrous crescendo of shattering glass and crunching metal.
Danny noticed a teacher in the corner of the room. She stared, open-mouthed with horror at the destruction.
As Danny awkwardly backstepped out of the room, a sheepish grin on his face, she burst into tears.
When Danny returned to the cafeteria with nine minutes to spare, he gave Sam and Tucker a dispassionate, "Don't ask," before planting his forehead on the table and passing out.
The day continued to nosedive, as it often did, with Mr. Lancer's English class.
Danny liked Mr. Lancer well enough as a teacher, but he unfortunately still believed in Danny enough to keep him on his toes. Many of the teachers no longer reprimanded him for falling asleep or missing assignments, but Mr. Lancer was determined to make Danny apply himself. It would have been touching that he cared, were it not so frustrating.
As it was, Danny stared at his English quiz, seeing double. The words blurred and morphed together, smudged through his bleary vision. It was all Danny could do to keep his drooping eyelids from shutting tight.
Tucker didn't sit behind him in this class, so there was no rhythmic chair kicking to keep Danny awake. Sam did sit beside him– and she definitely threw a pencil at him the first time his eyes snapped shut– but there wasn't much she could do discreetly during a test.
Inevitably, Danny's eyes shut tight as he leaned into his hand, propped up on his elbow.
Danny was flying, drifting on a warm breeze. A clear sky glittered overhead, the stars turning, spinning, blinking in wavering patterns.
Flipping on his back, crossing his arms behind his head, Danny watched as the stars coalesced in a brilliant tapestry. A landscape opened up across the heavens, towering mountains and low valleys of radiant stardust.
“Mr. Fenton.”
The landscape rippled, as though caught in a rough breeze. The wind blew harshly against Danny’s face, suddenly cold.
“Mr. Fenton.”
A strong gust of wind scattered the stardust to nothing. It left the sky inky black and empty, yawning overhead– crashing down as the wind roared loudly in Danny’s ears, icy and sharp.
Soon, all that remained was that wind. Danny tensed, searching for something– anything in the darkness that sprung up around him.
Something tapped his shoulder.
Danny shot up suddenly, his desk scraping loudly across the floor as he stood. He braced himself for a fight, but… froze when he saw Mr. Lancer staring down at him with an eyebrow raised.
Snickers broke out around him and Danny glanced to his right in time to see Sam facepalm.
“Is there any particular reason you can’t stay awake today, Mr. Fenton?” Mr. Lancer asked, drawing Danny’s attention back to him.
Danny was now as sure as he could be that Mr. Lancer had a migraine. The bags under his eyes weren’t as dark as Danny’s, but they were deeper than usual. He kept rubbing at his temple still, almost absently.
“Sorry, Mr. Lancer,” Danny said as he awkwardly sat back down. “Just… a headache.”
Truthfully, he did still have a headache. Probably not one as bad as Mr. Lancer’s, but Danny didn’t think that sleep deprivation was an answer his teacher would take lightly.
Glancing across the classroom, Danny could see Tucker giving him a commiserating smile, and Dash miming someone startling badly. Several classmates weren’t even watching, though. This situation happened frequently enough that it had lost some of its novelty.
Mr. Lancer sighed. “Do you need to go to the nurse’s office, Mr. Fenton?” he asked.
Danny cringed, sinking down a little in his seat. He hadn’t been to the nurse’s office for over a year now, since the Accident, and he wasn’t about to start now over a small headache.
“N–no I think I’m good,” he said quickly.
Mr. Lancer sighed again, shaking his head. “I’d like you to stay after class, Mr. Fenton. Please try to stay awake enough to finish your quiz until then.”
He turned and went back to his desk, saying, “Ten more minutes; use your time wisely,” to the class before he sat down.
Danny rubbed at his face in frustration, groaning as he distinctly heard Dash snicker.
By the time class ended, Danny had managed to stay awake, but he had not managed to finish the quiz. It didn’t help that he had hardly read the book assignment– The Catcher in the Rye– and his memory of Sam’s notes was vague at best. He was confident in maybe three of his answers, and certain that his incomplete essay at the end would be poorly received.
Sam and Tucker gave Danny encouraging thumbs up as they left the room. He knew they’d both wait for him in the hall.
After tying the cable back around his backpack, Danny dragged his feet to the front of the classroom. He stood in front of Mr. Lancer’s desk, waiting for the man to address him. He was grading a stack of papers, marking them with a red pen as he went.
“How is your head feeling?” Mr. Lancer asked without looking up.
The question threw Danny off kilter. He paused, wracking his mind for suitable words. “Uh, it’s getting better. I took some ibuprofen earlier,” he said.
Danny had not taken ibuprofen earlier. He had to take three or four times the recommended dose for it to even touch his pain these days, and a small headache wasn’t worth the trouble.
Mr. Lancer gave him a nod. He made one last mark on the paper in front of him, circling a line of text near the bottom of the page, before he finally looked up.
“Is there anything else going on, Mr. Fenton?” he asked.
His green eyes bored into Danny’s, and he had the distinct feeling of being scanned. It was moments like this that reminded Danny why Jazz liked Mr. Lancer as a teacher so much. Both of them were perceptive when it came to people.
“No?” Danny started, cringing a little at the uncertain tone in his own voice. “I mean, I didn’t really sleep well last night, but… yeah.”
He trailed off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
Mr. Lancer looked him up and down, his eyes settling on the slight bruising he still had on his cheek.
"If there's anything troubling you at home, I am always here to listen, Daniel," he said.
Danny shuffled uncomfortably, digging his shoe into the linoleum floor.
“Now,” Mr. Lancer began, reaching for a folder on the far side of his desk, “I won’t give you detention this time, but if I catch you sleeping in my classroom tomorrow I won’t be so lenient. Forgo any… extracurriculars tonight and get some sleep, Mr. Fenton. Have a good evening.”
Blinking dazedly, Danny could only nod and stutter out a confused, “Y-you too– the good evening thing, that is.”
Gripping the straps of his book bag tightly, Danny hurried out the door before Mr. Lancer could change his mind.
Sam and Tucker were the only people left in the hallway. It was the end of the school day and most people had already left or carried on to after school activities. Tucker swung an arm over Danny’s shoulders as they fell into step together.
“So, when’s your detention?” Tucker asked him.
Danny snorted. For once, he was happy to have an answer for that question. “Didn’t get detention,” he said, shooting his friend a fanged grin.
Tucker gasped and ground to a stop, jostling Danny beneath his arm. “Wait, really? What did he say?”
“He just… asked what was wrong. Told me I could talk to him if something was bothering me,” he said with a shrug. “It was kind of weird– but in a nice way.”
The trio resumed walking, turning around the corner. They passed by the science department where several staff members were still cleaning up the broken glass. Sam slowed, craning her neck to get a better look, but Danny grabbed her arm and sped up, not wanting to linger by the mess.
He had forgotten how hot it was outside. The moment they stepped out into the heat, Danny groaned. What little energy had been startled into him by his nervous interaction with Mr. Lancer had faded, sapped away by fatigue. He leaned into Tucker as they went down the school steps and towards the sidewalk.
“You really should go get some sleep, dude,” Tucker said, eyeing Danny. “You look dead on your feet.”
Sam punched him in the shoulder while Danny laughed.
“He’s right, though,” Sam said. “You always look exhausted, but this is a bit much, even for you.”
Danny groaned exasperatedly. “Tell that to the ghosts that keep floating by my bedroom window,” he said.
“What was it last night?” Tucker asked.
“After Johnny? A fucking ectopus,” Danny said, throwing his arms up in exasperation, nearly shrugging off Tucker’s arm. “I almost would have preferred Skulker again. At least then I’d have something to take my frustration out on,” he added in a low grumble.
“With how tired you are, I don’t think fighting Skulker is the best idea right now,” Sam said. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. We heading to FentonWorks?”
“Please no,” Danny said a little too quickly. “My parents are still fixing the lab wall. I don’t think I could sleep through that racket if I tried.”
Tucker snorted. “Still? Hasn’t it been like a week?”
“Five days. Five miserable, loud days. Were you not reading my texts? Did I not complain enough?”
Tucker rolled his eyes. “In my defense, you didn’t update us on the lab wall fiasco over the weekend, so I assumed it was over.”
“I’m sorry if I was a little too busy complaining about the trio of dumbasses that is Skulker, Technus, and Johnny. I’ll try to squeeze in loud Fenton bullshit hours next time.”
“See that you do,” Tucker said, nodding sagely.
Danny snorted, waving his arm to slap at him.
“So, where we going then?” Sam pressed. “I don’t know about you two, but I want to get out of this heat.”
They hadn’t made it very far from the school. With Danny leaning into Tucker, and no clear destination decided, they’d stopped at the corner.
Tucker made a thoughtful humming sound. “How about my place? My mom’s working and my dad shouldn’t bug us. Danny can take a nap while we play games or something.”
“Yeah, sure. Better than standing out here all day,” Sam said with a shrug.
“You’re going to play games without me?” Danny whined, doing his best attempt at puppy dog eyes (the effect probably ruined, at least somewhat, by how squinted they were).
“Yep,” Sam said, popping the ‘p’. She gave him a once-over with her arms crossed, her smile twisting into a concerned frown.
“Go transform and I’ll carry you,” she offered.
Danny perked up immediately, throwing Tucker’s arm off his shoulder. He glanced around quickly to make sure there was no one watching before darting into the tall bushes nearby. He heard Sam mutter, “That woke him up a little,” as he transformed.
As soon as the cold rings washed over him, Danny felt for his invisibility, letting it wash over in the same way. Floating back over to Sam and Tucker, he gave a quiet, “Here,” to let Sam know where he was before settling across the tops of her shoulders and spider backpack like a very large snake.
He let his spectral tail hang down one side of her neck and his arm down the other. He nestled his head on her shoulder and sighed happily. Thankfully, Danny was light enough in this form for Sam to carry him without issue.
“Just stay awake long enough for us to get to Tuck’s house. If you turn visible on me in the middle of the street, I will personally soup you,” she whispered.
“Noted.”
Danny put every last ounce of his energy into keeping his eyelids open on the walk to Tucker’s house. The gentle sway of Sam walking, paired with the heat, made for a sleepy combination. By the time they stepped over the threshold of Tucker’s house, blissfully welcomed by air conditioning, Danny had finally lost the battle against his eyelids.
He heard Tucker gasp loudly, hissing out a frightened, “Danny!” before he felt– and heard– Sam thunder up the steps to Tucker’s bedroom. Danny opened his eyes in time to watch Tucker slam the door behind him, turning the lock.
“That was a close one,” Tucker said, pressing his ear expectantly to the door, his red beanie askew. “I think my dad’s outside– otherwise he might’ve seen the ghost who was supposed to stay invisible.”
“‘M sorry,” Danny mumbled, shutting his eyes again.
Sam sighed. Danny felt her pivot and heard her boots take a couple of steps on the wooden floor.
“You’re hopeless when you’re tired,” she said. “How have you kept your secret this long?”
“Talent,” Danny mumbled into her shoulder.
Sam snorted. Her shoulders rose and Danny felt her hands grab him under the armpits. He kept his eyes closed, expecting her to flop him onto Tucker’s bed, but was surprised when he felt himself land inside something.
Tucker began to cackle, his laughter quickly devolving into wheezes. Danny opened his eyes and came face to face with–
Cardboard. He was inside a box.
Groaning, Danny rolled onto his back, brushing his white bangs out of his eyes. His tail fell the rest of the way into the box with him, curled over his stomach.
“Sam. Why am I in a box?” he asked,
It was a pretty big box, though Danny wasn’t sure why Tucker had it. Judging by the give in the bottom, it was sitting on his bed. Danny couldn’t stretch out his arms inside the thing, but he could curl up with some room to spare.
“I dunno. It just seemed funny,” Sam said, laughing.
“What’s this thing even from?” Danny asked. “It’s a pretty nice box.”
Tucker’s face swam into view as he leaned over the box, still chuckling. He lifted his glasses, wiping away a tear.
“It’s from my new desk,” he said between chuckles. “I figured I’d keep it to store shit in. Think we could replace the thermos with one of these bad boys?”
“I want you to think for two seconds about Boxy before you seriously consider that statement,” Sam said.
Danny huffed a laugh. Rolling onto his side, he let his tail curl around him and pillowed his head on his arms. He felt the bed sink down a bit on one side and heard someone fumbling with what sounded like game controllers.
“Are you seriously comfortable in there?” Sam asked, her voice hovering just over his ear.
Danny hummed in response, nestling into his arms. It probably would be more comfortable on the bed, but he was already so tired, and the walls of the box made him feel strangely safe…
Sam laughed again, more quietly this time. He heard the telltale sounds of Tucker starting up Smash Bros., followed by him quickly lowering the volume.
A hand fell into Danny's hair, gently scratching his scalp. In his sleepy, half-awake state, Danny was faintly aware of the contented rumble in his chest.
"Just like a cat," Danny heard Tucker snicker.
The noise of a cell phone camera going off followed.
It was the last thing Danny heard, other than the distant sounds of their game, before he fell into a fitful sleep.
~*~
Danny's mind was sluggish as he woke. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the familiar stars on his ceiling, but was surprised to see a dark room with a spinning ceiling fan instead.
Turning on his side, Danny noticed short walls surrounding him. He panicked for a moment, thinking he was trapped, before remembering he'd fallen asleep in…
A box.
A box, of all things.
Danny was still in his ghost form, and in the dark he could see that part of the box was dented. Danny could only assume he’d crushed it in his sleep. Coiling up on his tail, slipping out of a blanket Sam or Tucker must’ve thrown over him, Danny rose up like a cobra and glanced around Tucker’s bedroom. He couldn't tell what time it was, though it must’ve been well past sunset, judging by the darkness.
Sam was nowhere to be seen, but Tucker was curled up in bed, fast asleep. At least, he was asleep– until Danny leaned too heavily on the box and it tore down the side, causing him to tumble forward and land on his friend’s legs.
Startling awake, Tucker quickly sat up, pulling his legs to his chest.
“Wha– Danny? You good?” he groggily asked, stifling a yawn.
Danny yawned as well, still feeling rather tired despite what must have been several hours of rest.
“I feel a bit better,” he said. “How long was I out? What time is it? Where’s Sam?”
Tucker rolled on his side and groped a hand across his nightstand, grabbing his glasses and phone. Both of them squinted as the phone powered on, singing their retinas with its sudden light.
“It’s almost eleven, so uhhh… seven hours or so? Sam left hours ago.”
“Ancients…” Danny muttered, rubbing his tired eyes.
A sobering thought suddenly came to mind.
“Wait, shit, I should get home, I–”
“Already taken care of,” Tucker said, yawning again. “As far as your parents are concerned, you’re sleeping over tonight. My parents don’t know, though, so try to keep it down.”
He gave a cheeky grin and Danny felt his anxiety melt away with it.
“So, are you going to keep sleeping in my box– which you totally destroyed, by the way– or do you want to actually use the bed?”
Danny glanced down at the cardboard under him. The box had certainly seen better days. It had been surprisingly comfortable while it lasted, at least.
“Bed sounds good,” Danny said wearily. “I can’t believe you let me sleep in a box.”
Tucker just laughed at that.
Danny crawled across the bed to the side closest to the wall. Tucker lifted his blanket and Danny phased his way under it. He settled down, burying his face in one of Tucker’s many pillows.
“Am I too cold like this?” he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I can transform if you want.”
Danny was getting considerably better at controlling his powers. Aside from being able to maintain his form while unconscious now, he also had significantly more control over his temperature. He couldn’t necessarily make himself warm as Phantom, but he could decrease the chill he put off.
Sleeping as a ghost appealed to Danny– seeing as it meant he wouldn’t have to take off his binder– but he would transform for Tucker’s comfort if not his own.
Tucker hummed thoughtfully. “Naw, you’re good. Just let me turn off the ceiling fan.”
He reached for something else on his nightstand, producing a tiny remote. It shut off the fan and Danny watched as the blades slowly ground to a halt.
Tucker settled back into bed, taking off his glasses, carding a hand through his curly bangs. He let loose another yawn and rolled over to look at Danny.
“You’re not hungry or anything are you? You did sleep most of the day,” he said.
Danny shook his head. He never had much of an appetite since the Accident. Sam suspected it had something to do with all of the ambient ectoplasm in Amity.
“Just tired still,” he said. “Thanks for letting me sleep for so long, by the way.”
Tucker hummed, shutting his eyes. “You needed it,” he mumbled.
Danny certainly agreed. Those seven hours of sleep had helped, but he still felt pretty exhausted. Not every week of fighting ghosts was like this, but the ones that were dragged him down. He was only thankful for no major injuries this time around.
Snuggling deeper under the blanket, Danny wiggled his way closer to Tucker, burying his head under his friend’s chin. Tucker shifted, lifting his arm over Danny in a practiced manner, draping it over his shoulders.
Listening to the rhythmic sound of Tucker’s breathing and the steady beat of his heart, Danny quickly found himself falling into a restful sleep.
“G’nigh,” Tucker mumbled, hardly coherent.
Danny’s core rumbled contently in response.
~*~
Danny awoke the next day feeling, at last, actually awake. After changing into some clothes Tucker kept at his house for him, Danny slipped out of Tucker’s bedroom window and waited outside to give him a lift to school.
He didn’t manage to replace his book bag, but dealing with the broken zipper felt considerably more manageable when well-rested.
They met up with Sam in the hall as usual, and there was something in her grin that had him feeling nervous.
“What did you do?” Danny warily asked her.
Sam’s grin widened. She leaned against her locker, flicking through something on her phone.
“Oh, you know… just thinking about photography,” she said.
Danny paused, trying to parse out whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Then, with dawning horror, he remembered hearing the sound of a phone camera the night before.
“You didn’t,” he said, standing up straight, eyes narrowed at Sam.
“Oh, I did.”
She tapped something on her phone and turned the screen towards him. On it was a picture of Phantom, curled up inside of a box with his tail tucked around his messy white hair.
Danny quickly made to grab for the phone, but Sam held it up high, far out of his short reach.
“Tucker has copies too, so don’t you dare,” she said with a laugh.
Danny grabbed at her shoulders, shaking her lightly. “Sam, please tell me you didn’t post that anywhere,” he said, practically begging.
Sam waved her hand dismissively. “Why post it when we can keep it all to ourselves?” she said.
“And when we can threaten to post it the next time you spill one of those ectoplasm shakes on–”
“That was one time!” Danny interrupted Tucker with a whine.
“I can see the meme caption now,” Tucker continued dramatically, ignoring Danny’s interjection, “‘The New Box Ghost’!”
Sam snorted with laughter while Danny continued to groan, making one last, futile grab for her phone.
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