Alternate timeline in which through some course of incidents that I won't bother with creating Danny never saved the ghost world from being blown up and still remained rich and still lives next door to Vlad. Let's not think too much into it, yes? Just go along.
Amity Park's traffic was as terrifying and fierce as any large city's should be. From little pedestrians and commuter cars to pickup trucks hauling the latest crap, semi trucks heading to or from pickup and drop-off areas, sports cars trying to avoid getting within fender-bender distance and the infamous transit busses and their devil may care attitude. Little crazed mosquitoes swimming in the air in a huge swarm of horns and movements that it made one wonder why they didn't all end up in some big heap in the middle, which one or two did occasionally. It was fear inducing and horrific, and certainly perfect evidence against the sanity for those actually in said vehicles. Particularly that little silver one, the Mercedes Benz that gleamed in the sickly yellow glow of the city streetlights, the one that just ran that red li—yeah, you see it now? Good, keep an eye on that one, it's important.
The pretty little car sped down the dark streets with a fervor attributed to the criminally insane and suicidal, weaving in, out, and through traffic in a blaze of hotheaded teenage driving stunts best left undescribed for the benefit of those with acute fear of rollercosters, and earning a series of what appear to be hyperactive fans behind, new friends with colorful vocabularies. Swerving, fishtailing, riding the asses of fellow automobiles until the severe suicidal cuteness of the car, and the blazing carefree face of its driver, forced some kind of sense into whoever was blocking it from its path, and they moved over to a less dangerous stretch of narrow two-lane road, allowing the threat to all of humanity to pass. Immediate life threatening situation expertly avoided! A choir of angelic horn blaring sent this lost soul of a car onward towards its destination.
There appear to be three occupants in the Benz, more if you count whatever may live in the dump on the floorboards. Do you notice how the Chinese container seems to be migrating towards the- never mind, it's not important, I'm sure all eggrolls can do that.
The Benz took a curb too tightly and drug a tire against the concrete, causing one occupant's head to give the roof of the vehicle a bruising kiss; chaste, but painful.
"Curb check." Dash called to the driver. "Fenton stop your moaning, it sounds like the last row of a drive-in back there."
If Danny hadn't been clutching at his abused noggin he would have reached out and smacked Dash. Hell if he hadn't been smashed up in the middle of the back seat between boxes full of who knew what, dirty laundry, and the last few years worth of fast food refuse he would have kicked the back of Dash's seat and if he hadn't been threatened with a gag in the earlier portion of this kidnapping he would have made a tasty little remark about that comment. Sadly, he was, in fact, experiencing all of the above, and contented himself with a childish act of sticking out his tongue.
That is of course until Kwan, the crazed driver, dipped into a pothole and he chomped down on the pink muscle. This time his yowl of pain was louder and Dash reached back and clocked him upside the head, causing said cranium to knock against the plastic boxes, dazing the teen. "I said shut up, god you're such a whiner."
"Excuse me for voicing my pain!" he lashed out. "Where the hell do you think you're taking me? You can't just do this you know, do you know how much trouble you'll be in?" And so went the usual list of complaints about Dash and Kwan not being allowed to just grab people up off the street at nine o`clock at night and toss them into the back seat of a car and then throw bags of LAUNDRY on them! Which led to complaints of the moldy fries, half-eaten burgers, stale pizza slices and various other garbage, then they'd hit another bump in the road and he'd start complaining about Kwan's driving and Dash would have to either give him another mild nock or threaten to find some kind of orifice to stuff a pair of Kwan's dirty underwear which would promptly shut the teen up until the next incident ripped ranting out of him.
Overall, it was a very noisy and very annoying way to get the teen alone with them.
He scowled, two years, two incredibly long, incredibly boring years without a short wimpy little geek to pummel and throttle to his heart's content. Dash didn't think he could stand it any longer. He needed his favorite. A substitute wouldn't work, he needed Danny. Needed him back. For two years he needed him back, and tonight, heading out with Kwan to finish some last minute chores so they could hit the movies, he had spotted him.
Daniel Fenton, here, in Amity Park just walking on down the street. What else was he supposed to do? What could he have done? Certainly not just get in the car and drive on by and pretend he hadn't noticed him, because to do so would be childishly stubborn. Not that grabbing him, stuffing him in the back with a bunch of boxes of supplies and dirty laundry, and refusing to let him out until they reached somewhere wasn't childishly stubborn, and Dash had to admit he was kind of regretting it every time Danny opened his big smart mouth. Dash had wanted him to start interacting with him again, and he sure got it. Still obsession is what Danny had become, so obsession is what he had to put up with.
Dash didn't even know where to go or what he was going to do when they got there, which was why he wanted the guy to just shut up and let him think for a moment or ten.
"We're going where I say we're going Fenton, you're so not in the place to be doing anything but sit still and shut up." Dash finally told him, after about the third time Danny opened his mouth to demand or criticize something. "For all you know maybe we picked you up for a little slumber party, what would you say to that?" Dash turned to smirk at him.
"I'd say you were sick and to let me out." Danny answered flatly, shoving a mesh bag of stinking cloths that seemed to like leaning on his shoulder away. It reeked, probably gym crap. Ew.
"Yeah, I thought you would." He replied, turning back to face the front. Danny, irritated by the situation and the fact that he had to share personal space with unwashed things fazed his leg up past the crap blocking his foot and gave Dash's seat a good hard kick, consequences be damned.
In truth it had felt pretty damn good, some of the irritated tension and uneasy chills even fled his spine and its surrounding back muscles, even when he noticed what resembled a moldy eggroll suckling on his pant leg like some kind of cartoony octopus and Dash whipped around to give him a nice charley horse. Very nice, he'd forgotten how good Dash was at deadening muscles. He sucked in some air through clenched teeth and clutched the leg to his chest, unintentionally showing off his flexibility to the ragefull eyes glaring at him from the front seat.
"Okay, okay truce." Danny grumbled, returning Dash's scowl with one of his own. "Just don't hit me anymore." His eyes strayed to the thing clinging to his pants and flicked it back to the floorboards. Man, things could be living down there.
"Deal." Dash said, turning back around. Not hit him? Hadn't hitting him been his entire reason for nabbing him in the first place? Hadn't that been his entire reason for doing anything these past few years, to find some way to get just one last hit in on Danny Fenton? "You just have to shut your mouth until we get there." He pointed.
"Umncheye" he declared, lips pressed firmly shut. Dash raised his fist above Danny's remaining leg and the boy burst out in smiles. "Okay, okay sheesh, no wit from me, promise." Danny adjusted both legs until they were propped up on the folded down middle seat in front of him.
Satisfied Dash went to put his weight on the middle, but stopped, his elbow hovering just above Danny's foreleg, before mentally shrugging and settling there as if it were an armrest. What had he been planning all these years for when he saw Fenton again? He couldn't remember even one, though he was pretty certain a few pertained to a futuristic ghost attack and him hiring Danny to take care of it.
His seatbelt strained against his stomach as Kwan took another sharp turn, making even more wonderful friends.
How had that one ended again?
His thumb began to slide back and forth over denim.
He was almost positive one ended with Danny is some kind of coma, yeah that had been a rejected idea, can't beat up someone who wasn't even technically aware, there was something just wrong about that. Hadn't one been based during Dash's new job as a janitor for some big business? That one hadn't gotten past imagining Fenton in a three-piece suit. Why did he always give Danny great jobs and he end up with shit-shift? Damn high school placement test.
He followed that trail of thought some before jerking back on course, much as Kwan jerked the car out of the way of a bicycle. What to do, what to do.
Danny pursed his lips, feeling just a little bit uncomfortable with what Dash was doing. How about another charley horse please, that's what he expected, pain is what he always expected from Dash. Something wasn't right here. He felt a blush creep up from his neck and burn his cheeks, Dash's thumb continuing its monotonous sliding, like some kind of pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth, hypnotizing, distracting. Was it just a reflex or was Dash actually trying to mess with him?
Some kind of new prank? Watch Fenton squirm? Yeah, that was it, just another joke, stupid jocks, never serious.
Dash, for his part, just kept staring out the windshield with this far away lost in thought look. Which Danny found pretty comical since he couldn't ever remember Dash actually thinking. Danny took in a calming breath, feeling the calf muscle of his right leg twitch, just a small fraction of a movement, beneath the ministrations. Physical contact he did not like.
"Hey Fenton what's your deal?" he started, eyes returning to the blonde in front of him. His lower back had developed an ache from the constant tension. "Dude, you're beat red, something wrong?"
Something wrong? Something wrong?! He was being molested in the back of a filthy cluttered car by a high school bully he hadn't seen in years, what could possibly be wrong?
He took another deep breath. He was freaking out, for some reason he was freaking. Dash wasn't doing anything wrong, only an incredibly insane homophobic would think such a thing. He was fine.
"Fenton." He focused his eyes.
"Fine," he said, "fine, just hurts. You always did pack a punch."
"And you forgot this? You were gone way to long." Dash teased. "I think you need a refresher course." He squeezed Danny's leg harshly.
Danny bit his lips. Dash had intended to hurt, no doubt, but it certainly wasn't having that effect. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face, and he tried to convince himself the flush of heat from where Dash was gripping was pain, he'd just built up such a tolerance that the little pinching didn't faze him. It was PAIN.
"I think I remember just fine thanks, lets rain check," he offered, "maybe ten years from now."
"Don't think so."
Kwan bit his lips, shifting gears and trying, very hard, to keep his eyes on the road. This was very un-Dash-like, couldn't the dude just have walloped Fenton when he saw him on the sidewalk and been done with it? Kwan seriously didn't want to spend his night chauffeuring the two around as they bantered, beat-up, and tap-danced around each other for old time's sake. He had laundry to do and supplies to get home, and what ever happened to going to the movies?
Okay, focus on driving, deal with the two when he dropped his baggage off at the coin laundry for his cousin to take care of.
They rolled to a stop, Kwan got out and Danny shifted, trying to put his feet back on the floorboards, but Dash gripped an ankle and held him there. "Stay put Fenton, this isn't our stop." He said, never looking away from Danny's face.
So far, way better than the older version. I certainly like the kidnap and arguing part.
And as for you people and your griping about the fourth wall, I say to you: What fourth way?