The category says "Hurt/Comfort" but this story is minus the comfort part. At least there's humor to combat the angst. This was written in response to other reviewers proclaiming how much Danny needs a hug in my other stories. And in the show, really. Danny's POV, and yes, snarky!Danny is back. Enjoy~
This day couldn't get any worse.
In the middle of the night, I had gotten the rudest awakening ever. Skulker somehow came into my room and destroyed my computer. Either his bromance with Technus was falling apart, or the missile had really been aimed at me. But seriously, who attacks a guy trying to sleep?
Then he had the audacity to haul me off to the Ghost Zone before I could even get the drool off of my chin. No matter how many times I asked if I could just wait four more hours to kick his butt, he wouldn't budge. Worse yet, the net he had captured me in was starting to give me a rash. Through my suit! I guess prisoners' bills of rights don't exist in the Ghost Zone.
I thought he was just going to take me to his lair and try to fight me with some lame new weapons before Tucker's PDA directed him to go to South America to find purple backed gorillas and such, but instead, he was taking me to Walker's prison.
There, I learned that Walker and Skulker had an agreement that if Skulker caught me and Walker could imprison me for one hundred years, then he would give me back to Skulker so my pelt could finally hang on his wall. Ghost Zone's greatest hunter, my ass. Scammer? More appropriate.
It must have taken me two or three hours to escape this time. Nobody was willing to help out human-loving Danny Phantom this time around, leaving me to absorb all the attacks the guards threw my way. Their weaponry had definitely improved since my last visit here. Whips. Lazer guns (that looked strangely similar to Fenton tech). Morning stars. Hand flails. Even what appeared to be a portable cannon. Huh?
Needless to say, fighting them off with only two hours of sleep was not fun.
When I finally made it back through the portal, the clock on the wall told me I had twenty minutes before school started. Apparently that had taken a lot longer than I had been anticipating. My whole body ached and I couldn't hide the limp in my step, but I trudged up the stairs anyway, knowing my loving family would be there to comfort me, at least.
At the top of the stairs, I smelled pancakes. My mouth watered greedily, since a fight with Ember the night before had forced me to forgo dinner and I was starving.
"Danny! What are you doing in the lab so early, sweetie? If I knew you were awake, I could have made you some pancakes."
My shoulders sagged as I noticed my mom washing some dishes. My sister was gone, and my dad was sitting at the table, poring over some new invention. My eyes widened at the sight of a lone pancake sitting on his plate. The mouth watering recommenced, and my sore legs dragged my beaten body over to the table.
"Hey Dad, could I-"
My heart panicked as my dad plunged the pancake into his mouth before looking up at me. The entire thing. One, two, three chews and it was gone. Forever lost in the digestive tract of Jack Fenton.
"What is it Danny? Did you see a ghost?"
My shoulders sagged and my stomach gave off a cry that would have put my ghostly wail to shame. Meanwhile, my dad just grinned at me. Some excess maple syrup was dribbling down his chin as though it was reminding me of what I had just lost.
"I'm going to school," I said irritably.
"Don't forget to do your chores this afternoon!" my mom called after me. "It's Tuesday, remember?"
Right. Tuesdays. Oh, how I loathe them. The day of the week that my dad sneaks all of his chores onto my list just because he's the parent and Mom would rather argue with me than him over who has to do them.
I transformed and tried flying to school. It hurt less to fly than to walk, but it still hurt regardless. Then, I got mobbed by camera crews from local tv stations. Reporters asking intimate questions, and more idiots asking me to shave their chests/backs/don't-go-there's.
Seriously. Some people in Amity Park horrify me. And I fight ghosts.
Turning invisible solved that problem, but school, as usual, managed to make everything worse.
I was late, but that's nothing new so I won't bother complaining about that anymore. When I actually made it to class, I realized I left my backpack at home. With the homework that I had actually completed this time.
"If you don't have it right now, Mr. Fenton, then it's considered late," Lancer informed me.
My fists clenched together, fighting the urge to just flat-out punch the guy. I guess fighting off Walker's goonies hadn't been enough to release all the anger welled up inside of me today.
"Hey, are you okay?" Tucker asked when I stomped to the back of the classroom to sit by him and Sam.
"I'm fine!" I snapped, nearly certain that my eyes were glowing green like they always did when I got mad.
Tucker didn't seem to notice. "Okay, just checking. You just look kind of off today."
"YEAH! YOU THINK SO?" I shouted, unable to control myself. Now everyone was staring at me, including Mr. Lancer, who later gave me a detention for my outburst.
Needless to say, Tucker avoided me the rest of the day. Sam stuck around, though she was mostly quiet.
I flew home alone after school.
The chores that should have taken me two hours took four, thanks to three separate ghost attacks. Oh, and the aftermath, where my parents joined in and starting shooting every weapon they had at me.
At least I would have something to eat tonight, right?
My mom, twenty minutes after her latest assault on my ghost half, informed me that she and my dad were going out to celebrate. Just the two of them. Why? My dad's aim had improved and he managed to shoot "that awful Danny Phantom" not once, but twice. I tugged my shirt down my back, hoping they wouldn't see the burn marks that still remained from that shot.
Jazz was who-knows-where, leaving me alone in my darkened house without any food. With no money to go out for fast food, I just went upstairs and laid in bed, hoping to end this awful day as quickly as possible.
I need a hug.
Just then, my ghost sense went off for what had to be the thousandth time that day. I swear, whatever ghost it was, they were going to get the wrath of a furious Danny Phantom.
It was Klemper.
I hadn't seen him in ages, not since he flew away from that fight with Jazz. Strangely, he was a welcomed sight.
"Will you be my friend?" he asked in his usual, whiny voice.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Sure Klemper, I'll be your friend."
After nearly twenty-four hours of sheer misery, I finally got a hug.
That's all, folks. Written on a whim, it was. I'm curious to know what others thought of this, so reviews are appreciated :)