#TW: Spectra is in her element

[echoghost1]

Dannymay 2021 Day 08: Gravity

Weighed Down By Your Heavy Heart

~This is part 3 of my Role Swap AU~

Summary: Danny struggles to deal with the sudden loss of his father so his sister suggests he visit the school counselor, Penelope Spectra.

Word Count: 2,266

TW: Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, Bad Therapy

Guys the prompt is Gravity and my brain said "let's make it heavy"

If you're okay with all that...

you can read it on AO3 or down below the cut

Danny hadn’t said a word to anyone in days. How could he? What was there to say?

His dad was dead. Murdered. And he hadn’t been able to help. He had been completely useless as that monster stole his father away.

Of course, no one knew what really happened. The police filed it as an accident. The people at the reunion whispered that it was suicide.

Danny knew better.

But it didn’t matter what he knew. There wasn’t anything to do.

So he didn’t say anything. Not to the cops. Not to his mother. Not to the doctors that said they just wanted to help him.

Vlad sent his gear back a week after the funeral.

Danny hunted the ghosts that plagued his town and he didn’t say anything to them either.

After almost a month of silence, his friends stopped coming around. Good. The fewer people he had to worry about the better.

The only good thing that came out of what happened was that Dash finally stopped bothering him. Who knew the guy had rules about picking on orphans, or half orphaned anyway.

Or maybe the silent treatment was too much. Maybe the jerk actually enjoyed it when Danny mouthed off?

It didn’t matter.

He was done wasting words.

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It was Jazz that had suggested it. She said it was time to focus on healing now, so she signed him up to talk to the school counselor.

He didn’t want to go, but that look she gave him when she asked him to at least give it a try wasn’t one he wanted to see again.

So he went. For her.

��So Danny. I’ve heard you’ve become a man of few words lately. Did you want to talk about it?” Ms. Spectra said with her sickeningly sweet voice. Then she laughed, “Oh silly me, I guess you wouldn’t want to talk about it now would you?”

He just rolled his eyes and slouched in his seat.

He said he’d give it a try but if she was just going to make fun of him he wasn’t going to bother listening.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear,” she stood up from behind her desk and easily made her way around it. She leaned against the corner of the desk and casually crossed her ankles, “Have you tried journaling?”

He shook his head and kept his gaze from lingering on her long bare legs. How was she able to get away with wearing a skirt that short? Didn’t she know what teenage boys were like? Heck girls too! The dress code was for the staff too right?

“Sometimes words come out easier when you write them down. Maybe if you jot them down, all the thoughts flying around in that head of yours will settle.”

Would writing help? He never really thought about it before. It would be nice if his brain could shut up long enough for him to actually get some sleep.

He looked back at her but wasn’t sure how to show he was willing to try.

She must have been pretty smart because she smiled and went to fetch a blank journal for him to use.

“Now I want you to carry this with you wherever you go. Anytime those thoughts of yours get too loud, you write it down. Anything and everything. Don’t worry about what they are. This is just for you.”

He took the book and wondered if maybe everything in the world wasn’t awful after all.

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He’d been seeing Ms. Spectra for a week now and he had already used up most of the notebook she had given him.

“So how’s the writing going?” she asked as he sat down.

“Okay,” he said softly as he traced the edges of the pages with his fingertips.

“Oh and we’re talking today? That sure is an improvement!”

“Yeah,” he hated that his voice cracked on such a simple little word.

She frowned, “Don’t tell me you’ve got a stutter now?”

“No,” he stammered then realized what he did and winced. He didn’t have a stutter. His voice just wasn’t used to talking.

“Oh well, maybe you’re voice is still a little weak from misuse.”

He relaxed, happy that she understood.

“Unless that’s just what you’re telling yourself?”

“Wait, what?”

That wasn’t right. He didn’t have a stutter. He never did before!

Well unless he was nervous, but he wasn’t nervous now.

Was he?

“Don’t worry about it dear, I can help you fix that little issue too.”

He wasn’t sure he liked how she worded that.

She stood up abruptly and walked around the desk and before he could stop her, she snatched the notebook off his lap.

“Hey!” he tried to take it back but she just kept walking until she was out of his reach.

She started to flip through the pages, “Oh you’ve got some dark stuff in here, Danny.”

She said it was private! Why was she reading it? She never said she was going to read it! God, he had written a lot of terrible things in there.

“So many violent things.” she flipped through more pages. Violated more of his privacy. “I love this drawing.” she turned the book so he could see and he immediately looked away.

It was a scribbled sketch of him in his hunter gear ripping a ghost apart with his bare hands. He’d been having a bad day when he drew that.

She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Aw what’s the matter? Shy?”

“I didn’t know you were going to look at that.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she tucked the book under her arm and tapped her lip in thought, “I could have sworn I told you I was going to review this at the end of the week.”

“No, you didn’t.” he wouldn’t have written most of what was in there if he knew that.

“No, I know I did. You must have just forgotten. That’s okay.” she idly flipped through the book again before she turned her attention back to him, “So anything in there you want to talk about?”

He shook his head. He didn’t feel like talking anymore.

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Another week passed and he couldn’t tell if he was getting better or worse. He started talking again, but it was mostly just to yell.

He was just so angry and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

He was so miserable that even the air felt too heavy. It filled his lungs like lead and he constantly felt like he was drowning.

He just wanted it to stop.

“Danny, you haven’t been writing as much in your journal. Why is that?”

He shrugged but didn’t even bother to say anything.

“You’re not trying to hide things from me, are you?”

He kept his eyes fixed on the crack near the floor.

“You know you’re secrets are safe with me, right?”

He shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie.

“Because if I wanted to tell on you, I would have done it by now.”

That wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“I have a question for you, and I need you to answer honestly, okay?”

He really wasn’t in the mood to talk today. Couldn’t she just let him leave?

“Danny,” she said in a tone that almost sounded like a warning.

He looked up but didn’t say anything. If she wanted to talk then she could just go ahead.

“Have you ever hurt yourself?”

That was an odd question.

His confusion must have been obvious because she smiled before clarifying, “I meant on purpose. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?”

He shook his head. Of course he’d never hurt himself on purpose. Why would she ask him that?

“You’re not lying to me are you Danny?”

He shook his head with more determination. She had to know he wasn’t doing that. Sure he might be a little reckless when he hunts, but she didn’t need to know about that. Besides, that’s not what she asked about.

“Really?” she tilted her head to the sided curiously, “Despite all the pain you’re in? Don’t you want to make it stop?”

Of course, he wanted it to stop. “Why would I hurt myself if I’m already hurting?”

“Because the brain is an easy thing to fool. You can’t feel two types of pain at the same time. So if you, for example,” she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a long pair of scissors, “we’re having a day so bad that it hurt just to breathe,” she stood up and slowly made her way over to him, “that it felt like your lungs were filling up with molten hot lead,” she grabbed him by the left wrist and pushed his sleeve up to the crook of his elbow, “that it felt like you’re head was going to explode with all those dark horrible thoughts of yours”, she opened the scissors all the way and pressed the blade against his bare arm, “you could just cut it out!”

The blade sliced through his skin much easier than he would have imagined. The sharp sting as the skin tore and the blood pooled to the surface was so sudden all he could do was gasp.

“See what I mean?” she carefully tucked the scissors into his waiting right hand, her slender finger just as cold as the blade. “You want to give it a go?”

She guided his hand back to his bleeding arm and placed the blade parallel to the first cut, “just think about the things that hurt you, and then slice along the dotted line.”

Danny’s hands shook. Did he really want to do this? Was this really the best way?

It had to be, right? She wouldn’t make him do this if it didn’t help. She was a professional.

“Just remember Danny, you only ever want to cross the street” she lightly scratched her nail across this arm the same way the scissors were aimed, “But never go down the lane.” she scratched a little hard down the length of his arm all the way down to his wrist. “You’d bleed out too fast for anyone to help you.” she pet his cheek, “if you did that you’d die. And you don’t want to die, right?”

He blinked and for a moment he wasn’t sure.

“Danny,” she warned.

He looked up when she called but kept quiet.

“You don’t want to die. You’re no good to me dead.”

“No good?”

“No.” she sat on the edge of her desk, “I want you to repeat after me, okay?”

He nodded slowly. He could still feel the cold metal against his arm.

“I,” she started.

“I,” he repeated and he focused on how it bit into his fingers.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t”, He gripped it a little tighter.

“Want.”

“Want,” Just to feel something.

“To die.”

“To die.”

“Now again. From the top.”

“I don’t wanna die.” he relaxed his grip on the blade.

“Again.”

“I don’t want to die.” he pushed it into his arm instead.

“Again.”

“I don’t want to die.” he bit his lip to keep from whimpering.

“Cut yourself.”

And he did.

“Again.”

He did.

Over and over until all he could see was the color red.

His arm.

Her dress.

Her smile.

Why was she always smiling?

She lifted his head up with just one of her long red manicured nails, “I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you?”

He heard a thump and realized he dropped the scissors. He was surprised he had been able to hold on to them for as long as he did considering how wet they were.

She cleaned and dressed his wounds chatting all the while.

She was always so happy. He wondered if he’d ever be happy again.

“Alright, now Bertrand has your new clothes so go ahead and use the closet over there to get dressed.

“Clothes?” he turned to see that, yes he was there and he was holding a perfectly folded outfit that looked suspiciously similar to something he owned but thought he had lost a while ago.

“Well you can’t go walking around the school looking like that?” she said pointing down to his outfit like it personally offended her.

He followed her gesture and saw that there was a lot of blood there.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He hadn’t meant to bleed so much.

“Oh it’s fine.” she waved him off, “Now get dress. You do have class in less than ten minutes.”

“Class?” His head felt so fuzzy like it was full of static. He wasn’t sure he would do very well in class now, but what else was he going to do. “Okay.”

“That’s a good boy.” she placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he didn’t resist leaning into it. “Perfectly scrumptious.”

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It was Spirit Week when everything fell apart again.

First, Valerie noticed his scars after he had to roll up his sleeves during science class. She hadn’t said anything, but he caught her staring.

Second, the ghost girl revealed that Spectra was actually a ghost that fed off of people’s misery. Well that certainly explained a lot.

And he hated it.

Third, after finding out he was a favored snack to a terrible demon woman, he didn’t exactly take the news well. In fact, he took it so poorly he decided to break his razor and take a nice warm bath with the blade.

The doctor said he was lucky his sister found him when she did.

He wasn’t so sure about that just yet.