Chapter Text
A sharp and piercing ring ran throughout the dark bedroom. The object from which the sound originated from sat harmlessly on the side table of a certain teenager's bed, waiting for said teenager to wake up and turn its piercing cries off. The rings echoed off the dark walls of the bedroom as light from the bright morning sun attempted to push through the closed blinds. Dark shadows blanketed the room and offered peace and solitude to the sleeping adolescent who had yet to hear the noise blaring through his room.
Covers made their way over a head of messy ebony hair. A grumble and a whimper sounded from under the blankets. The whimper resonated with lingering pain, not something normally heard from a child waking in the morning. Suddenly, a hand shot out from underneath the covers - not without another pained whimper - and flailed aimlessly in the general vicinity of where the alarm clock lay. That alarm clock continued to wail its demanding tones through the room until, finally, it stopped.
“Stu-id alaaa- cloo…” slurred a certain Danny Fenton, breathing heavy underneath the pile of blankets. He took another deep breath and attempted to stretch his arms above his head.
AH!
A stabbing pain split through Danny’s body and rendered him motionless in abrupt shock. With a shout of delayed pain, he curled in on himself in agony. His head was POUNDING. It felt as if someone was taking a large sledgehammer and repeatedly smashing his head. He felt it all the way through his temple and down into his eyes, and as he opened his eyes, his vision swam. Tears pricked the corners of Danny’s eyes and he felt them threatening to spill over if this pain continued any longer.
Why was he in so much pain? Questions bombarded his foggy mind: Did he get seriously hurt? Why couldn’t he remember? What was going on? Why…. why….. WHY???
Still in the same position as he was left in after the shot of pain, he finally breathed out and brought his arms down to ready himself to sit up.
“Come… on.. -ou… -do. -it.”
Why was his voice slurring so much? How tired was he this morning?
His voice SHOULDN'T slur like that. Something was wrong.
Slowly, Danny placed his hands on either side of his body and heaved himself up. Nothing felt right…. his brain was a foggy mess and his head wouldn’t stop pounding with pain. He could barely comprehend where he was, looking around his bedroom in confusion. He didn’t remember going to bed last night…
Where was he yesterday?
He shifted his body to ready himself to stand up, feet dangling off the side of the bed. His desk and computer in front of his eyes danced. Danny couldn’t seem to focus his eyes on anything, not even the posters above his desk. But why?
“Whaaaa…. heck.”
He felt like he was underwater. Under a sea of confusion, haze, and pain that wasn’t going away. His voice wasn’t working, his mouth wasn’t moving like it should.
And the PAIN!
Tears finally trickled down his face as his breath hitched and a crackly whimper left his mouth. His body began to shake and bile rose in his throat.
All of a sudden he shot up and slammed his door open, numbed now to the continuous pain stemming from his head and shooting all down his body. He ran, not seeing where he was going. Following the layout of the house he knew so well, slamming open another door before falling in front of the toilet bowl. Footsteps could have been heard in the distance, but Danny did not hear. In fact, he couldn’t hear. Bile finally made its way up his throat and he wretched into the toilet.
His body spasmed as he dry-heaved, nothing more making its way up his esophagus but air. Danny’s face was brushed with tears, and they wouldn’t stop! His face was glassy and the tears dampened his face. His breathing came in short, spasmed bursts.
A warmth pressed against his back. “Danny.” A firm, grounding voice boomed through the bathroom. “Danny, you need to breath!”
“Hmmmm?” He mumbled, head still buzzing as he stared into the toilet bowl. His vision was starting to focus, but his brain was still… so… fuzzy. He looked down at himself, sitting on the cold bathroom floor, pajamas sticking with a sickening sheen of sweat to his body. “Wha.. goi…n?”
“You just threw up.” The grounding voice explained. The hand began making circles on his back. “Danny, can you hear me?”
“Mom…” he sighed.
“Thats right. I’m right here. I’ve got you. You, sir, need to breath so we can get you off this cold floor. Can you do that for me?” Maddie Fenton asked gently, continuing to rub circles on her son’s back. “We need to get you back to bed, Danny. I’ll call your Dad to get you the barf bucket and we can set it up, hmm? How’s that sound?”
“G’d?”
“Good? I agree, sweetie. Let’s get you up.” Carefully, Maddie slipped her arms underneath her son’s armpits and slowly raised him to a standing position. Danny’s knees shook and tears continued to run down his face. What happened that he was like this? He couldn’t seem to answer that question now, and no such answer was coming to his mind.
“One step at a time, okay Danny?”
Finally hearing and processing his mom’s words, Danny managed to take a step. His legs felt weak and heavy but he continued to step in line with his mom who still had her arms firmly holding him up. Slowly, they made their way down the hallway which was coasted with an early morning light. Danny lifted his head and peered down the hallway to the window at the end of the hall. The sun was peaking through the buildings as it rose above the horizon. He winced, head throbbing once again.
“So bright.” he managed to mutter quietly through stiff lips.
“That sun is bright this morning, isn’t it?” Maddie replied, nodding her head as they neared Danny’s room. “That must be really bothering your head this morning. Let’s get you back in bed and we’ll put up some extra blankets over your windows to block it out. I would give you some pain medicine, but I worry you may throw it back up without food in your system and I am hesitant to give you any food just yet, either, if your stomach is going to just reject it.”
Danny nodded in response, although he only heard half of what his mother was saying. Something about blankets, pain medicine, and stomachs? Odd….
“Okay, Danny, let’s lay you back down.”
He felt himself being lowered back into his bed, and his body sagged in immense relief the moment he reached the soft mattress. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt so weak. Instinctively, he reached inwards and tried to pull at the freezing cold sensation in his chest, hoping to pull out energy and power to his body - or perhaps it was pure instinct that his body was running on. But the cold didn’t spread. It stayed in the same spot, refusing - no - resisting! What? Tirelessly, Danny sighed heavily and gave up on trying. He really didn’t have the mental capacity to even acknowledge what his intent had been.
Next to him, Maddie was there standing over her son. Her eyes wide with pure shock.
A small, blue spark… was it even a spark? A small sliver of light had appeared above her son’s chest, a bright blue. But no, it couldn’t have been. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. She was imagining it, surely. Her own body ached with exhaustion which was finally setting in at an alarming rate after barely sleeping all night.
But she couldn’t just ignore what had happened last night.
Wordlessly, she brushes her hand over Danny’s face, feeling the excruciating heat radiating from his forehead. A fever, too?
“Just rest, sweetie. I’ll be back soon with the barf bucket and a cold cloth.” She whispered quietly before standing up and exiting the room. She walked down the hallway to the linen closet and grabbed some extra blankets. She returned to Danny’s room, moving to put the blankets over his windows. Immediately, the entire room was blanketed in darkness and a calm atmosphere descended. Maddie breathed a sigh of relief at the change of lighting and quietly left the room.