My Empty Thingie

Danny who is there at least this time, but is quiet and shy. Bart wants Danny to feel okay.

He wanted Danny to like his friends. His team.

(Maybe they could be Danny’s team too.)

“It's a location,” Tim repeats in breathless excitement. “Technus is pinging us a location in his calls.”

“What location?” Danny breaths.

“The location,” Tim says as he flings maps up onto the monitors. “Look, these are the GIW locations that we know of. All either part of an existing government locations or by the book rented facilities. There’s nothing there that matches what we know we should be seeing scale wise. The only place that gets close is Amity Park, and we know that’s been scaled down. Afterimage was found here. His path matches leaving Amity Park. The timing of the GIW scaling down operations match Danny’s escape. So where did they go?”

“Let me guess, the location,” Cassie drawled.

“Excatly!” Tim says, ignoring the sarcasm. “Technus has been pinging us back ‘Phantom’, right? But it’s not just us he’s been pinging. He’s been sending… like this electronic echo out with it. That echo keeps going, lighting up slightly at the other locations that we know of. But right here? Right here it goes dead.”

Tim’s finger is jabbed into the middle of nowhere Missouri.

“Anti ghost shielding,” Cassie says as she leans forward. “It’s one of the things GIW claims that they were developing as an act of protection. It makes sense that they wouldn’t want angry ghosts getting into somewhere that they were experimenting on them.”

“Or getting out,” Bart chirps.

“Or both,” Tim says. “I bet that’s where where we’ll find what we need.”

Kon crosses his arms and leans back into the couch. “They won’t let us go. You know that, right? They’ll want to handle this at the JL level.”

“That didn’t stop us when we rescued you,” Cassie pointed out.

“Yeah, but…” Kon shoots Danny a look. Bart hasn’t asked yet, but something about Danny twiggs Kon out. He’s trying, though.

“Technus needs you online,” Danny says, his soft voice interrupting all their thoughts. “When the raid happens, he’s going to need Robin’s help before they erase him. Maybe people to go into those other locations. His core might still be physical.”

“Mop up duty,” Kon grumbles.

“Search and rescue,” Danny argues. “He didn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to be ended. And he’s helping.”

Kon sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair, messing up the black curls. “Yeah, no, you’re right. Sorry. Just… lab experiments are a thing with me.”

“Yeah… me too,” Danny says.

Tim looks between them before he decides something and nods. “I’ll inform the Justice League of what I’ve found. Both myself and Oracle will be online and ready when the raid happens. “Wonder Girl, you’ll take point in the field. Afterimage, you’re benched for this one.”

Danny blinks back at Tim. “That’s… I’m not… I’m not even a hero…”

“Sure,” Tim says with a wave and a jaw cracking yawn. “You’re still benched. You can sit on comms though.”

“Right,” Danny mumbles and leans into Bart’s side.

“Right,” Bart agrees even if there’s really nothing to agree too. It’s more that he just… it would be cool if Danny was on the team too, even if it was only sometimes. But Bart knew that was up to Danny and what they found out there.

It shouldn’t even be out right then. The other’s had dropped back, exhausted after a high of nerves, but they were not in danger. Here was safe, it had decided. There was a father, but not Father. There were brothers and a sister. There was no mother (or Mother), but there was a caretaker. There was no reason for it to be there.

But it was.

Drops of water splashed suddenly against the window, and it jerked back with soft noise of surprise.

“It’s just rain.”

Now it really jolted. It spun, crouched now on the window seat and ready to run. Or not. Sometimes running made it all worse. Sometimes Father wanted him to run run run—

“We’ve spoken before, haven’t we?” They had come closer and were squatted now. Trying to make themselves small. Why?

It shook it’s head to clear it. It had talked with them before. They had been kind. It nodded, a small, barely there move. “Jason.”

They smile like it had done something good. “That’s right, I’m Jason. And I’m pretty sure you aren’t Tim, Alvin, or Caroline.”

It pressed further back against the cool window.

It shouldn’t be out.

“Hey,” Jason said, voice low and gentle. “That’s okay. I just was hoping to know your name.”

It shook its head slowly, not taking its eyes off Jason.

“No? That’s okay, maybe you’ll feel okay telling me later.”

“No,” it whispered. It didn’t want Jason to have it wrong. It didn’t… it wanted Jason to like it maybe. “No name.”

Jason’s brow scrunched up. “You don’t have a name?”

It nodded, please that Jason had understood.

Jason rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Right. Yeah, I guess that tracks. Tim didn’t mention you when he talked about the others. He doesn’t know about you, does he?”

It flinched back. The glass rattled, making it jump in surprise. It stumbled, feet cold against the floor. Always cold. Cold cold cold—

The breath it sucked in burned at its lungs. It took another shaky breath, following the gentle press of the large hand on its chest.

“There you go,” Jason rumbled. Their voice vibrated through its bones like it was the only thing holding it together.

Oh.

It was behind held by them. Somehow now it was on the couch, with a blanket, wrapped up in their arms. Jason’s large hand pressed a rhythm for it to breath.

It had messed up.

It had lost time.

It couldn’t—

“Hey, no, don’t,” Jason ordered. “I just got you back. Just keep breathing, okay baby bird?”

It tried to listen. It breathed. It got easier.

“There you go. You’re okay. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

It shook its head. “Need to be… aware. To protect.”

“…not here,” Jason said. Their voice sounded odd. “You don’t have to worry about that here, okay? We’ll all protect you. All of you.”

It wanted to argue. Jason was wrong. But Jason was safe. Here was safe.

It breathed with with rhythm.

Its eyes closed.

“There you go, baby bird, just rest, okay?”

It couldn’t—

Yeah, I kinda figured lol. Conners reply is already waiting by the time he finishes wiping down his plate. Then, moments later, Like, no pressure, but it would be cool to hang if you have a free day. We could, like, go do something or whatever.

Danny finishes reading, then goes back to loading the dishwasher. It would be nice to do something else, really. The daily flow of life is shockingly easy, really, but it's not like he's going to get less busy any time soon, and he does want to hang out with his friend. Plus, as he counts off time in his head, he realizes it's been almost a month since they got together for fajitas.

Mostly, he's been trying not to think about that evening. Every time he does, he just starts thinking about his little freak-out before. Conner hadn't asked about his trip to Metropolis, and Danny hadn't wanted to bring it up himself.

There'd been nothing in the form of consequences, really.

It should be a relief, but instead it's had him perpetualy on edge. He's still half-expecting Robin to message or even just show up in his apartment, demanding answers.

But it keeps not happening.

Danny doesn't know what to do with that.

Mostly, he just avoids thinking about it, and when his brain can't stop running in circles, he takes his body out running to match it. At this point, he's probably more physically fit than he's been in his entire life.

Really, life has been stupidly easy, lately. School takes effort, sure, but the lecture videos and assignments are mostly straightforward, and without being constantly distracted by ghostly nonsense, he manages to breeze through most of it in record time. Even his English class isn't giving him as much trouble. He may not really enjoy it, and his essays probably aren't A material, or anything, but he's fallen into a rhythm with the discussion boards. He waits until other people have poster their thoughts, and usually reading them is enough to give him an idea of something to talk about.

He might even manage to earn himself straight As this semester, if he's lucky.

And then there's the firefighting materials. He's read a couple dozen articles already, and watched some really interesting videos, and he keeps finding himself mulling over it all, while he's at work, or out running. There's just so much to fire and rescue work. Especially the firefighting stuff. Danny had always sort of imagined it as just spraying water at the fire until it's out, but no.

Firefighting is science, actually. And not just science, but a fascinating combination of physics and chemistry that continually sends new questions tumbling through his brain. There's so many factors that go into it all, and on top of the technical side, there's an entire other layer of complication when it comes to safety and protection. The procedures even consider ways to limit property damage, let alone keeping victims safe and protecting the firefighters themselves.

That last detail chokes Danny up every time he lets himself think about it.

Drills for low vision environments, drills for retrieving a downed firefighter, drills for everything, really. Firefighting is dangerous work, obviously. There's never not going to be risk involved in literally walking into a burning building. And yet, at every turn, it seems like there's some new consideration being made to try and make sure that the people walking in there can also get out, no matter what.

It's good, of course, but it's still a lot. Taking a day off and just hanging out with a friend sounds like a fucking relief, but…

Maybe sometime next weekend? Danny sends. I’m supposed to go observe a live burn training this weekend.

What's that? Conner asks.

Danny frowns. He'd figured as an active hero, Conner must have some of this sort of training, but. Well, maybe they just didn't use the same terminology. And of course, in most situations, a hero would probably be more useful doing things other than putting out fires. They certainly hadn't handed Danny a hose when he helped with the train crash.

But then, he had gone in with one of the fire attack teams, hadn't he? Sure he wasn't actually wielding the hose, but wouldn't it still be useful to understand all the technical details?

Basically, he types out. The firefighters are gonna set some intention fires in controlled environments so they can practice putting them out.

The invitation had been sitting in his email the Monday before last. Apparently, it was a standard practice thing; they run practice drills regularly, just to make sure everyone's got recent experience. Of course, usually it's just already trained firefighters at them, but everybody seems to think that Danny's meta status means he's an exemption.

He still can't decide if that's a good thing, or not.

If he didn't have these powers, they'd undoubtedly have told him to wait until he was old enough to attend one of their firefighter academies. They'd certainly not be expecting him to help them out yet. But then, even with the powers they'd never once implied that he should help them. Everything they've let him do has been at his own request.

Dude, that's so cool! Conner replies. I’ll make sure to keep next weekend as open as I can, so you better not get yourself hurt! I already have some ideas for what we could do :D

Friday dawns gray and dull. Danny gets up and grumbles his way through his morning routine, and gets to work, only to be faced with a dreadfully boring series of tasks that slugs its way by in a miserable blur. He jams the cheap earbuds he'd bought into his ear, so he can listen to music as he stocks and faces shelves, keeping an eye out for misplaced items and cleaning up the messes left by unthinking customers. The day feels like it's going on forever, and Danny's about to suspect that he's slipped into some sort of time loop, when all of a sudden he realizes his shift is finally finished. He makes it home in record time, only to find himself falling back into the routine of reviewing and updating schoolwork; finishing up what few things he wanted to get done before the weekend hits, and double-checking his work on his current math assignment before submitting it.

He settles himself down with the intent to go over the essay he's working and make at least some effort to refine it, but his brain and eyes seem to be working in concert to slide away from the screen from the moment he opens the file, so he eventually gives in, and lets himself relax for the rest of his evening.

And then it’s suddenly Saturday morning and his alarm is going off at eight am sharp.

Danny technically doesn't need to be there until ten, but he’s found a distinct joy in having time in the morning. There's just something beautiful about being able to wake up and not jump immediately out of bed, or the freedom to take his time with breakfast, rather than jamming simple food in his mouth as quickly as possible.

Today, he lounges in bed for a good fifteen minutes, before getting dressed in some light clothes, and wandering out to the kitchen for a light snack. He opens the fridge to grab a hard-boiled egg, and bites it in half as he shuts the fridge door. The yolk is a little gray, but Danny doesn't even care because he'd boiled them himself and that was worth more than a little imperfection.

Finishing the egg, Danny grabs his shoes from by the front door, and laces them up. He doesn't always start his days with a run, but today it feels like a good idea. He's not really sure what to expect of the live burn, and at the very least, a light jog should help him burn off the least of his nervous energy. So he heads out to do a few laps of the block, before returning home to make his actual breakfast.

Proper exercise is constantly referenced in all the training material – a firefighter needs to be able to all sorts of things, like climb ladders and run up loads of stairs and carry unconscious people, so of course they need to be in good shape. Of course, Danny's got the unique benefit of super strength, but he's been through enough miserable gym classes to know that exercise is about a lot more than just strength. Besides, the running has been helping a lot with his anxious tendencies, so he’s been trying to incorporate at least some of the stuff he’s learned into his habits; like proper warm-up stretches, and conditioning.

It's already paying dividends, really. Almost everyone at work seems to have clocked him as being useful when heavy stuff needs lifting or moving, and running only keeps getting easier the more he does it. Sure, he still sometimes feels sore and exhausted after a harder run, but compared to the way he used to ache for days after a fight, the brief aches of a hard workout are practically comforting.

Proper breakfasts are another novelty, Danny's found he adores. Really, it's just having regular meals in general, but there's something special about taking the time to make himself a hot meal, and take his time eating it. He's not worked himself up to anything fancy yet – a couple weeks ago, he’d tried to make pancakes, and just barely managed to avoid setting off the fire alarm – but food that tastes good and doesn’t fight him is probably never going to stop feeling like a miracle.

Today, he scrolls through the news feed on the NASA website while he eats. The discovery of a whole feed of space-related news is probably Danny's favorite new-dimension detail. Granted, it kind of makes sense; knowledge of space is clearly much more advanced here, and with the addition of known aliens and the like, the government undoubtedly has far stronger incentive to toss funding that way.

Today, there’s a new article about an upcoming rocket launch – sending new people to the ISS, for some research mission to do with low gravity effects on plants. Too many technical words for Danny to understand, especially when it starts talking about biology stuff, but Danny does pause to note the date of the launch in his calendar.

It would be really cool if he could manage to get away and watch the launch.

Danny finishes his breakfast while watching videos of past launches, then heads back to his room to relax until he needs to leave for the day's activity.

Flying, it doesn't take Danny long to arrive at the location Chief Branson had sent him, but when he gets there, Danny takes a moment to just hover in the air and watch. It's still five minutes before ten am, but the place is already alight with activity. Firefighters move around on the ground below; Danny's high enough up that they look sort of like a hive of bees, with their yellow suits and the way they all seem to be moving around with purpose.

He closes his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to breathe in deep and out slow, before letting his invisibility seep away, and beginning a slow, calm descent.

“Hey, Phantom!” The first of the firemen notices Danny well before he reaches the ground, and he awkwardly waves back as he floats the rest of the way down to them.

“Kid,” Chief Branson greets, walking over to where Danny’s landed. Danny notices his white helmet and lets himself indulge in a little childish delight at the fact that he properly knows what that means now. It’s silly, considering he already knew he was the chief, but as Danny glances around, he realizes there actually a couple other people milling about wearing white helmets.

“Hi,” Danny says. “There’s multiple chiefs?”

“Joint exercise with a couple other towns,” The chief replies. “I already let them know you’d be joining us. Now. First order of business for you is to suit up.”

“Suit up?”

“Yup.”

“I… already am?”

The chief snorts. “Kid. You’re untrained, and that suit of yours may be nice but it sure as hell ain’t up to our standards.”

“I can just be intangible, though?”

“There’s nothing that can disrupt your powers?”

“Uh…”

“Not even going unconscious?”

Danny blinks and frowns. He's… honestly not sure what would happen if he managed to go unconscisous. Granted, in ghost form, he doesn't exactly need to breathe, so the likelihood of that happening is low, but at the same time…

Chief Branson sighs. “Look, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but it’s incredibly important to recognize your limits. None of us are impervious. Not even Superman.”

“Isn’t he literally invulnerable?”

“Not entirely. And when he goes down, he goes down hard.”

“Huh…” Well, he had been marvelling about how much care they take with protecting their own, hadn't he? "Yeah, okay."

“Over here,” Another of the firefighters – Danny remembers him introducing himself as Jackson – shouts, waving Danny over to where he’s standing beside a layout that Danny recognizes from the videos of donning drills.

“Oh, I remember this!” Danny says, stepping over towards Jackson. “I don’t have to do it full speed, do I?” He grins, as the firefighters around him laugh.

“Definitely not,” the chief affirms.

“Thank god,” Danny is definitely not prepared to do this in under a minute.

“I’ll walk you through it,” Jackson says, then nods down at the little piece of fabric draped over the shoes. “First step, flash hood on.” Danny nods, and bends down to pick up the stretchy fabric, yanking it over his head.

“Great. Now, shoes off.” And at that, Danny frowns. He’d… not considered that. But there’s nothing for it, and hopefully they’ll just write it off as weird magic or another one of his powers or something. So, with a frown of concentration, he focuses his powers, and shifts his shoes into something more like socks.

“...huh.” Jackson mutters, staring down at Danny’s feet. “Well, I guess that keeps you from losing them. Now, just step into the boots.” Danny nods, slipping his feet into the boots. They feel a little loose, so Danny frowns, focusing on his ghostly form again. It’s not actually something he’s ever specifically tried before, but after a few moments, he manages to shift his shape just enough to fit the boots more properly.

“Not too loose?” Jackson asks, as Danny adjusts his stance.

“Nah, we’re good.”

“Okay, then grab the pants and pull them up.” Danny nods, reaching down through the straps to pull the pants on as Jackson talks.

“Next is the coat, right?” Danny asks as he fastens the pants into place and tightens the suspenders.

“Exactly.”

Danny bends down again, grabbing the coat from its spot on the ground, and swings it on. The flourish is definitely not as smooth as in some of the videos he’d watched, and his arm gets a little bit stuck for a moment, but then it’s settling on his shoulders. He zips it up, secures the velcro, then frowns. The next step is…

“Velcro the neck closed, then fold your flash hood down,” Jackson says. Right. That. Danny folds the stretchy material down over the collar of the jacket, and leans down to grab the helmet. He plops it onto his head, and gets the strap in place, as Jackson moves to stand in front of him.

“You want to make absolutely sure that your helmet strap is secure, and then tuck the tail of the strap into your coat,” Jackson tugs gently on the strap, checking the tightness, before stepping back as Danny follows the rest of the instruction. “The last thing is your gloves.”

Danny frowns, but bends down to grab the bulky things. He doesn’t really want to complain; the chief’s logic had been entirely reasonable. Besides, they’re just gloves; it shouldn’t matter at all. Still, as he pulls them over his hands, he has to make an effort to keep his breathing steady.

He knows. He knows it shouldn’t be a problem. There’s no reason he should need his ectoblasts here. And if something happens and he does, he can easily take the gloves off. Hell, he could probably blast through them, if he needed to. And yet, the absence of the thermos at his hip; the idea of covering his hands; the feeling of the pants and jacket, wrapped around him, making him bulky and slow – it all sets his core on edge.

After a moment, he blinks his eyes open (when did he close them?). Jackson is staring at him, a soft little frown on his face. Fuck, way to weird him out, Danny.

“Right,” Danny says. “This feels weird.” He grins as impetuously as he can manage, and has to choke back a sigh of relief when the concern melts from Jackson’s face.

“Well, you’d best get used to it. Unless your contacts in the justice league can make you something better, you’re stuck with our gear.”

“Is there better?”

“Oh, absolutely. Granted, I dunno how much better it is, or if its got its own flaws, but, well. Either the Justice League are all morons who run into burning buildings without even a hint of proper PPE, or their suits are made of something we don’t got.”

“It’s a funding matter,” Chief Branson says, walking over to them. “Generally we don’t need stuff that can withstand as much as they do, and the kind of materials they use are supposedly nightmarishly difficult to make, so it’s just not worth it for general crew.”

“Huh.”

Danny waits as Jackson carefully checks his gear, making sure everything is properly in place and fitting right. It’s a little weird having someone else fussing about his body like that, but at least having all this gear on makes him feel a little less exposed about the scrutiny.

After that, Jackson pulls Danny in the direction of one of the fire trucks, where other firefighters are pulling down and hooking up hoses.

“Okay, so first things first, fire attack patterns.” Jackson says. “Do you remember what the different kinds are?”

“Uhhh,” Danny frowns. Fire attack had been… “It’s like, when you aim the water at the fire versus above it, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Jackson grins. “Aiming the hose directly at the fire is direct attack, and aiming it elsewhere is indirect.” One of the other firefighters turns on a nearby hose, and Danny watches as the spray of water kicks up. It’s a bit uneven at first; the air in the system taking a few moments to work its way out. Still, it’s not long before Danny can see that familiar, consistent spray of water.

Firefighters had visited their school once, as a kid. Danny remembers how excited he’d been as they sat through the fire safety assembly, because everyone knew that after it was over, they’d all get to go outside and take turns using the fire hose and sitting in the truck. It had been so exciting; one of those moments where nobody had really cared about who was or wasn’t friends with who, because the activity was just so novel.

Now, he’s standing right next to a nearly-identical fire hose, but this time he’s sort of gonna be actually using it. And that’s kind of crazy.

“So, posture,” Jackson says, dragging Danny away from his thoughts. “It’s important that you hold the hose so that the nozzle is about arms length away from you.”

“So you can use leverage to your advantage,” Danny nods. He remembers this from some of the videos.

“Exactly. And you brace the body of the hose either under your knee or against your hip. So let’s try that, yeah?”

Danny nods, and takes the hose, letting himself drop into position. At Jackson’s guidance he puts himself low to the ground, with the hose snaking under his leg. He lets Jackson adjust his foot until the hose is bracketed between it and his knee, without putting any pressure onto it.

“Good, just like that.” Jackson says. “Now lets try a fire attack pattern. Make sure you’ve got a good grip on the hose, right about here, and then reach up and turn it on.”

Danny nods, tightening his grip a bit, then reaching up with his other hand to pull the valve. Jackson’s got him positioned so that he’s facing a load of bushes, Danny realizes with some amusement. Might as well make the water useful for something, he supposes. Sam would like that.

The spray of water startles Danny, and he forces his thoughts to refocus on the here and now. With Jackson at his side, guiding him through the process, he follows the motions he’s watched in so many videos; up the water goes, targeting the thermal layer above the ‘fire’, then down to attack the fire directly. It’s important to get both in a careful, moving pattern. Don’t focus too much on one area and let the fire grow freely elsewhere.

There’s obviously not an actual fire in front of Danny, but still. The motions feel more complicated than he expected; there’s just so many parts of the process to keep track of. And it’s not like it’s easy to see where he has and hasn’t let the water hit, either.

Maybe that part would be easier, with an actual fire, though, since there he’d have the intensity of the flames to help him track it.

Still, most fires aren’t gonna just stick to one small area, are they?

Danny practices for a bit longer, listening to Jackson’s advice as he follows the motion, keeping careful control of the hose. Then Jackson guides him to switch it off, and has him practice advancement techniques, slipping the leg that isn’t bracing the hose out in front of him, and using it to drag himself forward.

He could probably use his powers to simplify that process, at least. But for the moment, it seems a bit complicated to worry about figuring out how to do it without losing control of the hose or accidentally making the wrong thing intangible (suddenly the idea of relying on his powers to protect him seems even more absurd), so for now he focuses on learning the standard motions, and nevermind how awkward it feels.

Then, before Danny knows it, they're starting with the actual live burn process.

The first exercise the firefighters run is pretty simple. They’ve stacked a pile of wood and crates and things – like their own miniature junk yard – and one of the chiefs lights the mess on fire. Everybody stands around, just watching as the flames build and grow.

“See how it catches and spreads?” Jackson murmurs, pointing at the wood, as the flames build up and out. Danny nods. This is a relatively simple situation right now – more like an over-sized campfire than any of the more complicated shit he’s seen or read about.

That doesn't mean it doesn't have it's challenges, though.

“It’s got basically unlimited airflow,” Danny says. That’s one of the main tactics the training material had talked about in fighting building fires; controlling the airflow, both in and out of the building. Most of those videos don’t even start using water, until the fire’s already halfway under control.

“Right,” Jackson nods. “An open air fire means a constant supply of oxygen. So what are the other two elements of the fire triangle?”

“Heat and fuel,” Danny replies. Without all three a fire can’t sustain itself, and with less of one, you need more of the other two. “but with that much oxygen, you’re not gonna need much, right?”

“That’s true. So what do we do?” Jackson grins over at him, and raises his eyebrows. Danny glances down at the hose he’s still holding.

“Use water.”

“Because?”

“It pulls heat out of the air.” That had been something Danny hadn’t ever really thought about. Obviously, everyone knew that water put out fire, but he hadn’t really questioned why. And it sort of made sense, in retrospect, but still. There’s knowing, and then there’s actually understanding. He hadn’t expected to like understanding the process this much.

“Exactly,” Jackson says. “It can also help to limit oxygen flow, and even disperse fuel in some situations, but that last part isn’t really relevant right now.”

“That’s for if there’s, like, an oil spill or something?”

“Stuff like that, yeah. Though you still gotta be careful about how you disperse it, so you create a different problem. We’ll wait for the fire to grow a little bit more, then you’re on, kid.”

Danny blinks, glancing back at the hose, then up to the burning wood.

“Oh.”

Jackson laughs, clapping him heartily on the back. They watch for a few more minutes, the heat building. It’s not bad, with the distance, and the protective gear covering ninety percent of his body, but Danny can still feel it; like an oppressive wall of warning, telling his body there’s danger ahead of him.

He feels like he’s sweating; even though he’s not actually sure he can in ghost form. But then, Danny’s always run much colder since the incident, in both forms, so maybe it’s just his brain struggling to interpret the intense heat.

“Right, kid, lets see you in action, yeah?” Jackson guides Danny to a clear spot maybe fifty feet away from the fire, and taps him on the shoulder. Danny takes the hint, and drops down into the position he’d practiced before; hose braced under his knee and hand carefully gripping it, so it doesn’t get away from him when he turns the water on.

The spray kicks up, and Danny tries not to think about all the properly trained firefighters watching him work. He carefully moves the hose in slow, smooth motions, watching the water rain down on the flames. Just like he thought earlier, it's a lot to focus on; trying to make sure he evenly targets all the different sections of the fire. Smoke billows up, both the darker, sooty, smoke of a burning fire, and the whiter steam, as his water evaporates, pulling heat away and taking up airspace around the flames.

He’s got this. It’s a lot, sure, but he’s read and he’s watched videos, and he even got to practice ahead of the actual fire, and maybe he has to actively think about it as he works, but he knows exactly what he’s supposed to do. After that, it’s just a matter of thinking, remembering, and acting on it all, keeping the flow of water moving across the space, watching for areas that are burning more heavily and targeting them more aggressively.

Jackson murmurs occasional advice beside him, and as Danny works, the fire slowly sputters it’s way lower and lower, until it chokes and dies under Danny’s careful watch.

As the last flames die, Danny feels a sense of elation flood his body like it never has before in his life. He did that. He put out a fire all by himself. And that’s what all this work has been for, these last couple months. Reading and watching and studying this extra material, between all the normal school-work and the newer work-work. All that effort so he can do this thing that helps people; that keeps people safe.

It’s a better high than he’s ever gotten from winning a fight against some dumb ghost.

He relaxes into the feeling, as Jackson takes the hose back; just sits there, trying not to laugh from the giddy feeling, as everyone moves to set up the next drill. This one appears to be a car, of all things, and Danny frowns. He’s not seen a lot of videos about car fires, yet, but he can imagine how it would be much more complicated.

He knows electric fires are weird, and more complicated. You’re not supposed to put water on them, he's pretty sure, so he's not really certain what their plan is. But that part isn't Danny's problem yet, so instead of worrying he just finds a good spot to watcho Danny sits back and watches as the more properly trained folk prepare, and the flames build in the body of the car, popping and sparking in a way that the wood never had.