Chapter Text
Gwyn ran blindly. She didn’t know how far she had gotten, but it wasn’t far enough. Her legs kept carrying her further and further. Her heart raced to beat faster than her feet. Her chest ached. Gwyn was certain she was dying. She was dying. She was going to die!
Gwyn tripped over a couple of trash cans. She laid in the midst of the garbage for a moment before crawling to a nearby wall, sitting against it. Her breathing was still fast and shallow. Sweat drenched her forehead. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it until it hurt. She had to get back up. Had to keep running. It wasn’t safe to stop. She wasn’t safe yet. She needed to find her dad. She needed her dad. He would keep her safe. He was safe. She wanted her dad.
“Hey, honey,” a soft, soothing voice quietly cooed from in front of her. “My name’s Angela. I'm a nurse. Is it okay if I sit next to you?”
Gwyn’s attention snapped to the owner of the voice. A woman who’s purple scrubs complimented her umber skin tone was squatting in front of her. Her short hair framed her round, kind face. Her expression was as gentle as her voice. The woman, Angela, waited until Gwyn shifted to allow the adult to sit next to her. Angela made herself comfortable just outside of Gwyn’s personal space.
“Is it okay if I rub your back? It used to help my son when he got upset,” the woman offered.
Gwyn barely managed a shrug. She still couldn’t breathe right. And her brain kept telling her she was going to die. She was going to die. She was going to- A hand started to slowly rub gentle circles into her back.
Angela kept her voice calm. “Want to know a trick to use when things get a bit overwhelming?”
Gwyn glanced at the adult.
“Copy me, okay.” She held up four fingers and started to breathe in. Once all four fingers were curled in, she started breathing out. As she did, she slowly started raising one finger at a time.
Gwyn slowly, subconsciously, started copying her breathing. Her heart gradually returned to its normal rhythm. Her hands were still in her hair, but they weren’t pulling at it anymore. Just twisting it between her fingers.
“Did that help?” The woman asked, stopping her hand that was rubbing Gwyn’s back.
Gwyn nodded slowly.
“I’m glad. Would you like to get cleaned up? You’re welcome to use my shower,” Angela offered. “I don’t think you should walk around covered in trash. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable.”
“No, no, that’s fine. I’ll just take a shower when I get home. I’ve bothered you enough.” Gwyn went to stand but stopped when her hand touched something wet on her knee.
“I can’t in good conscience let you go home like that. At least let me clean the scrape on your knee so it doesn’t get infected.” The adult insisted gently.
The auburn-haired teen chewed her lip. Ms. Angela seemed nice, and Gwyn was told a few times she was good at telling such things. Plus, it would be nice to get all the gross off. But, she also wasn’t stupid. Stranger danger was a thing for a reason, even if the person who initially taught her went a little overboard with it. She couldn’t always trust that her “vibe checks”, as Danny called it, were always right. Of course, if it was a trap, she could always use her powers to escape. Unless…what if Ms. Angela knew about her being half-ghost? What if she had lied about being a nurse? What if she was just being nice so she could capture her?
“I-I don’t know…” Gwyn started pulling on her hair again.
Ms. Angela’s smile didn’t falter. “Don’t worry. My son should be home from hanging out with his friends. And my husband is just at the store. He’ll be back soon too. Please, let me clean you up as an apology for your falling over my trash.”
“...okay…” Gwyn quietly acquiesced. If things turned south, she would run.
The adult woman led Gwyn into the house they were next to. The living room looked cozy. Two overstuffed armchairs flanked a used but still nice couch. A soft yellow area rug gave the room a pop of color to contrast the laminate floors. There was a staircase to their left. A blue door was open under the stairs, revealing a nice though cramped bathroom with a standing shower.
“Go ahead in there and change into these. I’ll wash your dirty clothes.” Ms. Angela passed her a purple sweatsuit. “Sorry, it’s the best I can do. I promise it’s clean, and you’ll only have to wear it until your clothes are done being washed”
Gwyn nodded before shutting the bathroom door. It seemed like it wasn’t a trick, at least. Ms. Angela let Gwyn lock the door without any issue. The room filled with steam as the water ran, and there was still no sign of unwanted entry from an unwanted party. So she went ahead and took a shower. The hot water helped her completely ground herself. It was like the panic washed away along with the trash.
“I’ll get these clean for you. Don’t worry about the mess outside either.” Ms. Angela collected the dirty clothes once Gwyn finished and opened the door. “My son didn’t put the trash cans out properly, so he can handle the clean up. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
Gwyn watched as the adult climbed the stairs. Her hands still felt weird from her freak-out. Like they were asleep but different. She shook them out as she settled into the armchair facing the door. Her eyes absently scanned the room until Ms. Angela reappeared in the armchair across from her.
“So, I don’t think I know your name.” Ms. Angela folded her hands in her lap, her expression open and gentle.
“It’s Gwyn,” she answered as her left arm wrapped around her middle.
“Well, Gwyn, do you want to talk about what upset you?” Ms. Angela leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “Don’t tell me that you weren’t upset either, young lady. I’m smarter than that.”
Gwyn closed her mouth for a moment. “I’ve already told my therapist. We’re working on it.”
“I think you should have an emergency session, sweetie. Not trying to push you or anything, but you just had a panic attack, dear.”
“I can’t.” Gwyn pulled her knees in tighter.
“Can I ask why?”
“Not to be impolite, but it’s really none of your business.”
Gwyn hadn’t meant her answer to be so clipped, but she also didn’t want to talk about her mental health with a complete stranger. Ms. Angela didn’t press the matter either. She quietly got up and went to check on the clothes. Gwyn laid her head back to rest on the back of the chair.
“Gwyn?” A familiar voice came from the door.
The teenage girl snapped her head up to make eye contact with a familiar teenage boy in glasses. “Tucker?”
“What are you doing here?” Tucker shut the door behind him with his foot.
“I…I tripped over your trash cans.” Gwyn’s eyes flitted down to her clothes. Her nose started turning pink. “I’m guessing Ms. Angela is your mom. She let me borrow these while she washes my clothes.”
“Ah, so you’re the person who made the mess I just cleaned,” Tucker smirked.
“Maybe put them where they’re supposed to be next time. I scraped my knee falling over them.” Gwyn turned to fully face him.
“Look where you’re going, and you won’t have that problem.”
“Is this how you treat your rumored girlfriend?”
“As only a rumored boyfriend should.”
Gwyn gave him a look of disappointment. One that he met. Then they both started laughing.
“So, why were you in the area anyway?” Tucker asked once he washed his hands and sat on the arm of her chair.
“Oh, um…” Gwyn picked at her nails.
Mrs. Angela Foley appeared around the corner. Her hands were empty. The laundry was probably still running. She paused for a moment at the sight of her son with the girl she found in the trash.
“Tucker? Do you know her?” Mrs. Foley stepped into the room fully.
“Yeah, she’s the friend I told you about. Danny’s pen pal from Alaska.” Tucker stood up. “We all have the same classes. Though she gets to have art instead of P.E.”
“Meet the requirements and maybe you won’t have to take P.E. next year,” His mother mused.
“Everyone says that.” Tucker’s shoulder slumped.
Gwyn rolled her eyes. “It must be true then.”
“So, back to my question. Why were you in the area? I thought you and Danny were gonna work on your part of the project when Sam and I left.” Tucker returned his focus to the auburn-haired girl in the chair.
“Well, I…I needed some air.” Gwyn rubbed her right arm.
“Was Jazz cooking again?” Tucker joked.
Mrs. Foley stood beside her son. “She seemed a bit upset when I found her. Since she’s your friend, do you mind entertaining her? I’ll let the Fenton’s know where she is and get dinner started.”
“Sure,” Tucker smiled at his mom before looking at his friend. “Come on, I just got a new mod for Doom. We can play together.”
“I’m not that good at video games.” Gwyn stood up and started following Tucker up the stairs.
“Liar, Danny told me how good you actually are. Don’t try to get out of it. I’ve already hit a boss I can’t beat on my own. At least play support,” Tucker playfully argued.
“...fine, I’ll do my best. No promises that I’ll actually be helpful though,” Gwyn conceded.
Tucker pulled out his phone and turned on some kind of sound effects. Probably for a video game. He sat down in his computer chair next to his desk and motioned for Gwyn to make herself comfortable. She sat on the edge of the bed.
“Okay, so spill. Why were you really walking around my house?” Tucker asked. “Do you need something? Is Danny in trouble?”
“No, no, he’s fine. Like I said, I just needed some air.” Gwyn ran a finger over the baseboard of his bed.
“Gwyn, I can obviously tell something is bothering you, whether you believe me or not.” Tucker rolled his eyes.
Gwyn let out a loud breath through her nose. “I thought you said we were going to be playing video games, not interrogate me.”
“That’s a cover to make sure mom doesn’t overhear us. Now, back to my question. I know something’s bothering you. Do you want to tell me about it?” Tucker waved off her objection.
“I’m just an open book to everyone,” Gwyn huffed.
“Plus Danny texted and told me you ran out of his house all freaked out,” Tucker pointed out.
“I’m not surprised.” Gwyn rested her head on the metal baseboard, eyes closed. “I panicked right in front of him. I even threw up.”
“Standard question that I think I know the answer to, but I have to ask again, do you want to talk about it?” Tucker rolled his chair a little closer to the bed.
Gwyn shook her head. Tucker rolled away. The video game sound effects stopped, replaced by quiet music. She didn’t make a sound as the sound of a ukelele and a quiet voice filled the room. She just breathed. The clacking of a computer keyboard joined the music a few moments later. It oddly made her feel more at ease. She took in a few more slow, calming breaths.
“I…I saw a syringe…” Gwyn muttered into the quiet room, unsure if she wanted Tucker to hear her or not.
“A what?” Tucker rolled closer to the bed once more.
“Mrs. Fenton, she-she had a syringe in her hand when I walked inside.” Gwyn turned her head enough for him to see the side of her face. “My head kept telling me I needed to run…so I did.”
Tucker hummed in response. “I remember you said you’re scared of needles. It’s that bad?”
“I-I can’t help it. My chest starts to feel like someone is squeezing my lungs until they pop, and-and my stomach feels like a boulder found its way inside and I might throw-up,”Gwyn rapidly explained, feeling some of the panic from before take hold once again.
“You don’t have to defend yourself. I totally get it. I just didn’t know it was this bad. You want to rinse out your mouth from…you know?” Tucker suggested.
“I already did when I washed the trash off. Thanks though.”
“Is it the same for medicine?”
Gwyn closed her eyes for a brief moment. “It depends on the medicine, but sometimes. Liquid medicine is the worst, but I can handle pills. Barely.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever have to do first aid on you like I do Danny.” Tucker leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Gwyn mindlessly nodded, turning away once more. The cool metal felt nice, but it seemed like it was just missing the mark. Like it was just not quite scratching the incessant itch plaguing her, not letting her completely calm down until it was sated. The metal needed to be colder, so she made it colder. Her frost filtered into it until it was as cold as she needed. A contented sigh fell from her lips as the last of the tension fell from her shoulders.
“Try not to freeze over my bed, okay?” Tucker’s voice lightly cut in.
Tucker couldn’t see her face, but Gwyn’s ears started to burn a light shade of pink. The frost that had been creeping across the metal frame stopped. Her hands tightened around it.
“Sorry.” Her voice was quiet, just barely over a whisper.
The song had switched at some point. Now it was something about wonderland. Mostly piano and vocals. And the cold was still seeping into her skin. Her breathing deepened. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Song after song played. Her frost renewed every now and then to keep it as cold as she liked it.
“I’m guessing you’ve texted Danny?” Gwyn mused. “Is he on his way? Or do I need to head back to Fenton Works on my own?”
“Yeah, I told him you were here, plus my mom called a bit ago. He’s gonna walk you back. Didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be by yourself. Something about not wanting you wandering Amity with how you left his house,” Tucker affirmed.
Gwyn saw movement out of the corner of her eye. “I wouldn’t touch the metal. You’ll freeze to it.”
Tucker pulled his hand back. Instead, he reached for a pile of cloth that had been resting next to her.
“Here, mom said they’re all clean now. You can change so you’re ready when Danny gets here.” Tucker held out the clothes.
“Thanks. Didn’t notice her come in.” Gwyn sat up and took them with a sigh. She moved her hand over the metal baseboard and removed her ice before standing up. “I guess I should do that now. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
“There’s a bathroom next door, so you don’t have to go downstairs if you don’t want to.” Tucker pointed to his right.
Gwyn nodded and went to change back into her clothes. She sat on the edge of the bathtub for a moment. Preparing herself for when Danny got there. He would most likely have questions. Questions she wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet.
She got dressed and headed back to Tucker’s room. He was messing around on his computer. She laid on her stomach across the bed. Face first into his dark blue comforter. The sweatsuit Mrs. Foley had let her borrow was tossed beside her. Her hair was almost dry from the shower and splayed around her head.
“How much time until Danny gets here?” Gwyn asked through the blanket.
“Maybe fifteen minutes? He said he was talking to his mom and couldn’t get away. Plus a ghost showed up.” Tucker didn’t turn from the computer.
“I bet I know what they were talking about.” Gwyn’s voice came out as a monotone muffle.
Tucker chuckled a little. “You know, I could probably understand you better if you weren’t face-first on my bed.”
“But that would make sense.” Gwyn looked up with a whine.
“I can tell you aren’t looking forward to the inevitable conversation you’re going to have when you get back.” Tucker paused his game and spun around. “Want to try talking to me so it’s not so bad?”
Gwyn’s mouth opened, moving as if to say something. No sound came out, and she quickly pressed her mouth into a thin line. She buried her face back into the blanket.
“You know, I’ve never really been in a situation like yours. But I have had some crazy things happen. Like, having to fight Technus in a videogame. You know what the worst one was, though?” Tucker asked.
Gwyn peeked up from the bed.
“When Danny’s future self tried to kill me and Sam.” Tucker turned on some music once more. “I know that Danny has far worse trauma from it, but the image of an older version of my best friend trying to crush me under rubble…”
“That would mess anyone up,” Gwyn muttered.
“It took me some time to even realize how much it had affected me. And then a bit longer to even deal with those feelings. I flinched every time I saw an ectoblast. It helped to talk it out with Danny and Sam.”
“Well, they were there when it happened. It makes sense to talk to them about it.”
“It was more than that though. Letting my friends know how it had bothered me helped them know how to help me get better. I’m trying to say a support system is an important part of dealing with some tough things.”
“You’re starting to sound like Jazz.”
“How dare you. But also, yeah. She’s the one that helped me too. Can’t exactly go to a regular therapist with this kind of stuff. I’m just trying to say you don’t have to deal with whatever you’re dealing with alone.”
Gwyn readjusted to sit on the bed. She pushed her auburn hair out of her face, her hands resting on her neck. “You guys are way too smart and mature for teenagers.”
“Can you tell my mom that?” Tucker joked.
“No. I’m gonna tell her the absolute opposite.” Gwyn laughed despite herself before the small smile faded once more. “It’s going to take some time, but thanks for wanting to listen.”
“No problem. And the offer stands no matter when you decide to talk.”
Danny walked into the room as Gwyn shoved her face back into the comforter. “Hey, sorry for taking so long.”
“Who was it this time?” Tucker pulled up a document on his computer.
“Ember was scaring people in a music store. Then the Box Ghost decided to show up after I dealt with her.” Danny leaned against the wall.
“Need any patching up?” Tucker asked, typing away.
“No, I’m fine.” Danny waved him off. “Ember’s new ‘song’ was a complete joke. Didn’t do anything but scratch my shoulder.”
Tucker typed some more before closing the document. He turned his chair around to face his two friends once more. Gwyn had turned so she could see both boys. Her eyes were glued to her hands. Probably had been since Danny walked in. Danny was looking at her though.
“Are you okay, Gwyn?” Danny eventually asked.
Gwyn nodded. “Sorry for worrying you.”
“It’s not something you have to be sorry about,” Danny reassured. “From what I saw, you couldn’t exactly help it.”
“What’d you tell your mom?” Gwyn picked at her nails. She wished she had her hoodie.
Danny glanced at Tucker for a moment before sighing. “She was asking why you freaked out like you did. I just told her what I knew. That you had some bad experiences with needles.”
“She’s going to ask me about it when we get back.” Gwyn fell back on the bed.
“She’s just worried about you, Gwyn. She wants to help if you’ll let her. We all want to help with whatever is going on with you.” Danny walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
“No.” Gwyn’s voice was firm and terse. She crossed her arms. “I’m not talking about it. Not with your mom.”
“I didn’t say you have to. But talk to us,” Danny insisted.
Gwyn looked away. “Like I literally just told Tucker, I’m not ready. I’m not going to talk about it right now. Stop trying to make me.”
Danny sighed, starting to say something else before Gwyn stood up.
“Let’s just head back to Fenton Works.” Gwyn picked up the sweatsuit Mrs. Foley had let her borrow, folding it.
“Sure,” Danny nodded, standing up as well. “I’m sure mom’s done with dinner.”
Danny left the room first. Gwyn went to follow him before turning to face Tucker. He had yet to get up from his computer chair.
“Thanks, Tucker,” Gwyn said with a small smile. “Sorry for being a bit of a downer.”
“Don’t worry about it. Danny used to be this way. I’m used to it. I’ll be glad to listen whenever you do want to talk, okay?” Tucker smiled back.
Gwyn nodded before walking out. Danny was already downstairs, talking to Mrs. Foley. They both looked up at her as she neared the bottom of the steps.
“Hope to see you again, dear,” Mrs. Foley said as she took the clothes Gwyn held out for her. “Be safe on your way back. It’s getting a bit late.”
“It’s just a short walk. We’ll be careful,” Danny replied.
“Thanks for helping me. Sorry for staying so long.” Gwyn put her hands in her pockets.
Mrs. Foley shook her head, her short dark hair swaying slightly. “You don’t need to be sorry. It was a pleasure to meet another of my son’s friends. You’re welcome here anytime. Just try to avoid the trash cans next time.”
“I’ll do my best,” Gwyn shrugged before walking out of the house with Danny.