[Third Person's PoV]
Date: January 31st
Location: Fenton Works' Basement
Time: 2:24 Am
Danny casually walked down to the basement, stifling a strong yawn, with the Fenton Thermos clutched in his hand. He pointed the Thermos toward the Ghost Zone portal and pressed the button, releasing the mischievous ghosts he had captured.
A haunting wail echoed through the room as ghosts flew out from the Thermos. Once the last one was expelled, Danny capped the Thermos shut. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the portal.
"I am the Box Ghost~ Oooooh~ FEAR ME!" declared a short, round man with blue skin and short black hair. He wore gray overalls, a matching hat, light gray gloves, a light gray undershirt, and dark gray shoes.
"What you're going to fear is me if you don't leave me alone! It's the middle of the night! I'm trying to go to bed!" Danny snapped, kicking the Box Ghost in the face, sending him flying backward.
Danny slapped the button on the side, closing the Ghost Portal, then turned intangible and flew away.
In the Ghost Zone, the Box Ghost tumbled through the air, accidentally crashing into someone.
"Oops, sorry— I MEAN FEAR ME! For I am the Box Ghost!" he declared, turning around and waving his arms in the air.
A large hand covered his face, silencing him. He was held at arm's length by a ghost with electric green eyes, flaming green hair, a goatee, and jagged teeth. His off-white 'skin' had metal seams, and he wore a black tank top, pants, a dark gray shoulder guard, and a dark gray belt slung across his chest.
"What's with all these ghosts? What's going on?" the ghost asked, intrigued.
"The Box Ghost answers to no one!" the Box Ghost mumbled through the hand.
The larger ghost pulled him closer, threateningly. "Listen here, since it seems you have no idea who you're messing with. I am Skulker, the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter! If you don't want to be turned into a ghost rug beneath my feet, you'd better start talking."
The Box Ghost shivered. "We were all captured by this Ghost-boy… He's becoming a legend around here. I went to teach him his place so he wouldn't think he was above the Box Ghost and fear me…"
Skulker tossed the Box Ghost aside and placed a hand on his chin. "A Ghost-boy hunting other ghosts… Is he trying to upstage me?" Skulker huffed. "I'll teach him that no one is a better ghost hunter than Skulker!"
---
Date: February 1st
Location: Gotham Academy
Time: 11:45 AM
"DANNY FENTON!"
Danny jolted awake, standing up with a piece of paper stuck to his face. "The Boston Tea Party!" he exclaimed, still half-asleep.
The class burst into laughter.
"Mr. Fenton, if you had bothered to stay awake in my class, you'd know we're in math," Mr. Lancer said, his voice stern but calm.
The bell rang, saving Danny from further embarrassment as he peeled the paper off his face.
"As they say, saved by the bell once again, Mr. Fenton. Try to stay awake next time," Mr. Lancer said coolly.
"Sorry…" Danny mumbled, as the class giggled at his expense. Two students, Sam and Tucker, didn't laugh, their faces etched with concern.
Danny rubbed his eyes, packed his backpack, and lazily slung it over his shoulder. Sam and Tucker hurriedly followed him.
"Dude, Danny, are you okay?" Tucker asked, raising an eyebrow. "You look a little worse for wear."
"That's an understatement," Sam scoffed. "You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I'm fine, you guys. Just stayed up a little late doing revisions," Danny yawned, struggling to open his locker, messing up the combination three times in a row due to his exhaustion.
"Yeah, right," Sam said skeptically, snatching the combination lock from his hands and swiftly opening it for him.
"Thanks," Danny said awkwardly, placing his books inside. He paused and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How did you know the number to my combination lock?"
"I saw you mess up the order with the same three numbers, and don't try to change the subject," Sam replied reproachingly. "What's going on with you, Danny? This isn't the first time. You've been looking more and more tired. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Fine, you got me… I've been staying up all night playing video games…" Danny admitted, a bit embarrassed.
"Ah, I totally understand~ I'm the same way," Tucker said with a nod, patting Danny's back. "It's the grind, isn't it? That intoxicating feeling of seeing your level rise and saying to yourself, 'just one more level,' and the next thing you know, it's already morning."
Sam still had a skeptical look, clearly not believing a word Danny just said. She grabbed his wrist, along with Tucker's, and began to drag them away.
Danny let out a sigh. "Sam, where are you taking us?"
"Yeah, Sam, the lunchroom is the opposite way! You know, as they say, 'Lunch is the most important meal of the day!'" Tucker whined.
"I thought it was breakfast?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow at Tucker.
"Danny, you should know me by now—any time food is supposed to be in my mouth is an important meal of the day," Tucker said expertly.
Danny chuckled as Sam kicked open a door to an empty stairwell.
"What are we doing here?" Danny asked, looking around.
"Tucker and I are forming an intervention against you," Sam said, crossing her arms.
"We are?" Tucker asked. Sam gave him a look, and he quickly corrected himself. "I mean, we definitely are!"
"An intervention about what exactly?" Tucker asked, turning to Sam in confusion.
Sam crossed her arms and glared at Danny. "Danny, I want you to be completely honest with us… Are you being abused?" she asked, her tone quieter and sadder.
"What?!" Both Danny and Tucker exclaimed in disbelief.
"Are you?" Tucker asked, turning to look at Danny, his nonchalant expression turning serious.
Danny couldn't help but laugh slightly. "Pfft, no, I'm not being abused. You guys are being ridiculous. Why would you even think that?"
"Because you're showing symptoms of someone being abused, obviously. You started wearing long sleeves."
"It's February, it's cold," Danny retorted.
"You show multiple signs of fatigue."
"I just can't fall asleep on time."
"Insomnia," she pointed out.
"That's due to my lack of time management. Can't blame that on anyone but myself," Danny continued.
Tucker took out his PDA. "I can help you with that! I can make you a tight schedule so you can get the eight hours of sleep you need."
"For god's sake, Danny, you wince when someone touches you!" Sam exclaimed, her eyes growing misty. "It's Bruce Wayne, isn't it? It all began ever since you started staying with him!"
"Sam, Bruce isn't—"
Before Danny had a chance to finish, Sam grabbed his shirt and lifted it over his head. Both Sam and Tucker gasped.
Danny's body was covered in multiple bruises, some green and purple. Danny clicked his tongue in annoyance, tussling with Sam to lower his shirt. "It's not what you guy—"
Danny froze as he saw tears streaming down Sam's face, while Tucker had a look of rage.
Danny groaned and looked up at the ceiling. 'Lord, give me strength…' he prayed. How was he supposed to explain he got all those bruises from training? To ordinary people, the intensity of his training could easily be mistaken for abuse, especially since it increases every time he had improved.
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