#if i had a nickel for every time I've written about danny wearing makeup I'd have two nickels

[payeehay]

In short, going into the unfinished portal had been a bad idea.

Danny thinks he's dead, now? He can't be sure, but he has no other way to explain the way that when his friends had brought him over to the mirror after he stumbled out of the glowing green expanse, there was nothing but a cottonball of white hair and a literal skull grinning grotesquely back at him.

Putting a shaky hand to his face, he'd realized that there was flesh there, it was just... invisible.

And so, one mental breakdown, an outfit change, a hairdye job, and an hour in front of sam's makeup mirror later, he was looking normal enough to go to school the next day.

Before they had left her house, she had warned him that only some of his makeup was waterproof, told him not to sweat too much, or to get it wet.

Which made his current situation a problem.

Dash steered him roughly out of the locker room toward the bathroom stalls, Kwan and Tony blocking his hopes of escape.

Fuck. He couldn't let them get his face wet.

"Hey! Why don't you hit me? You like hitting me, right?" he tried.

Dash grinned. "Good idea!" He stopped long enough to sock Danny in the stomach, before shoving him into the stall.

He struggled, but wasn't able to stop Dash from shoving his face right in the toilet.

30 seconds later, he was coughing and rubbing at his eyes while the jocks laughed.

Until they stopped laughing, one by one, peering closely at Danny. "Hey Fenton, what's wrong with your face?" Kwan asked.

Double fuck. He glanced down at his gloved hands, saw the watery foundation smeared across them. "Uh," he schooled his face, or however much was left of it, "Nothing. What's wrong with your face?"

Dash squinted at him. "No, it's- are you wearing makeup?"

"No," Danny scoffed. "I'm a guy, remember?"

"He is!" Tony exclaimed, pulling him out of the stall and into the lights.

Danny caught himself in one of the mirrors and froze. His skin looked translucent, blotches of white and black showing through.

He tried to run, was caught by the arms by Kwan and Tony, and put up a token struggle, already knowing they had him held fast.

He struggled in earnest when he saw Dash coming at him with a wet paper towel.

"No! You don't want to-"

Dash ran it down his cheek, and Danny froze as Dash's brows scrunched together. "What the fuck?" he asked curiously.

Another couple of strokes, and Danny could see bone, teeth, dark hollows in the mirror. Dash looked legitimately unnerved. "What the fuck, Fenton??" he asked again. "Where's your skin??"

Danny thought quickly. "Flesh-eating virus. It's contagious, by the way."

The three football players glanced at each other. "No..." Dash disagreed. "Something weird's going on here." He experimentally poked Danny's face, right where he'd wiped it clean, and both boys cringed. "I'll ask one more time, Fenton," he said, trying to sound intimidating. "What the fuck?"

Danny stared him down, studying him. Finally, he sighed. There was no good answer to this. "I don't know, okay? Something weird happened last night and I'm trying to hide it until I can at least figure out what the hell it was, so can I please go get my makeup and fix... this??" he asked, gesturing at his face. He gave another pull on his arms, and Kwan let go, soon followed by Tony.

Danny almost turned and ran right then, but Kwan asked, voice barely above a whisper, "Are you dead??"

Danny groaned. "I don't know! Can I please go now?"

The jocks glanced at each other again, and Dash looked almost scared. "You're a freak, Fenturd." He pushed past Danny and out toward the lockers, turned, pointed back at him. "Keep your freak shit away from me." Kwan and Tony nodded and followed him, leaving Danny gratefully alone.

When his classmates teased him the next day for wearing makeup, he could only thank whatever gods may be out there that that was all they were saying about him.