Schrodinger's Artist

And yet here it was, close enough to her to bring its ambient ghost chill to her skin, staring up at her with it’s fiery red eyes, and vocalising it’s low, echoing whine. 

Valerie had, up until now, tried to hold her tongue about her… Distaste, displeasure, disgust, rage, betrayal- at the ghost dog, Cujo’s, recurring presence at her school. She kept her mouth shut, if only for Danny’s sake- seeing as the boy couldn’t decide whether he was terrified of ghosts, or if his heart bled for them. She’d overheard more than enough conversations of him and his friends complaining about his own parent’s stance on ghosts.  And she didn’t miss the awkward and uncomfortable look on his face, or the way it paled, whenever Val had found herself speaking up in class about her opinions. 

How Danny could be raised by ghost hunters, and live in the country’s most haunted town, and still come away with anything other than fear and hatred of ghosts eluded Valerie. Though, then again, she may just be biased. Unlikely.

The mangy ghost mutt just seems to insist on being an obnoxious staple, an inescapable factor, in her life. It started with Phantom bringing the hound out on patrols with him. He’d just claimed that “Cujo’s a sweetheart, he just likes to play- and if I can get him to consider ghost hunting as play, then he’d be a lot easier to handle.” She had rolled her eyes. 

And then, somehow- Valerie had no idea how this had gotten approved- Danny Fenton had turned up with the glowing green hound in a service dog vest and mobility support harness. It followed him around throughout the day, helping him navigate the school, and conveniently warding off Dash and the other A-listers. The ghosts’ “Danny Phantom Certified Safe Ghost” patch was made to infuriate her, specifically, she thinks. 

The ghost had, fortunately, stayed under Danny’s control so far. Most likely that was thanks to the promise of that infernal pink squeaky toy and a pouch of glowing green dog treats. But Valerie was sure it was only a matter of time before the dog got into an incident. 

And that time was now. 

Cujo’s presence in the school was a nuisance to her on most days, but she definitely didn’t have the patience for it today. 

She was the definition of bone tired. Yesterday, she had barely gotten any sleep in preparation for an exam, which was followed by a gruelling shift at work. 

After work, she’d gotten her complimentary manager’s meal- Nasty Burger had definitely lost all of it’s allure to her after 2 years straight of seeing how it was made- but she never got the chance to eat it. Almost as soon as the paper bag was in her hand, her ghost alert on her wrist had beeped and she was thrust into action. 

It was an easy fight, no sweat off her back- but by the time she returned to her meal, it was cold, and the grease had turned the chips and burger buns soggy. With a grimace, she binned it and headed home. 

Another few ghost fights had followed her that night, and she never did find herself something for dinner. She’d fallen into a lackluster 5 hours of sleep the second she got through her front door. 

She slept through her alarm, not having the time to grab even a protein bar before she was racing out of the door.

And as she had entered the cafeteria, her stomach angrily protesting it’s emptiness, she discovered that she’d also managed to forget her wallet in the rush to get out the door. It was probably still sitting in the pocket of her work pants back at home, and she definitely didn't have the energy to fly there and back right now. It'd be best to conserve it for the rest of the day, she thought. So, she sank into her usual seat in the corner of the cafeteria and groaned, and ran a hand down her face. Maybe that explained the headache she had been developing… 

It could also be the reason she didn’t notice the creature's approach until it was right by her side, threatening to soak her with its ecto-slobber. Sure, it’s ecto-signature had been coded out of her tracking devices, but the mutt wasn’t usually this subtle or stealthy. Especially with the very physical leash attached to its collar; which was laying on the floor tiles by the dog’s large, clawed paws. 

Valerie growled under her breath and gripped the pendant of her necklace tight in her hands; the buzz of her suit's energy radiated off the golden medallion in her palm. She met the ghosts’ eyes with a deep glare, and it seemed to return its own. 

It’s shoulders twitched, as if preparing to jump up at her- maybe it finally recognised her and had come to finish her off for good? ... Good luck with that, Mutt. He wasn't getting any closer, not if she had anything to say about it- 

“Yeah, that’s right… Hold still, and I’ll make this quick.” The anticipation of a fight rolled over her body, making her limbs feel shaky. She held her fist out, scanning the room around her subtly to make sure her weapon would be hidden enough, but found her sight of the crowd to be slightly disorienting. 

No matter, vision seeming to swim or no, concealing her blaster beneath the cafeteria table should be fine. But, before she managed to pull her focus together enough to summon it, one Danny Fenton comes to the rescue. 

Though who was he rescuing? Valerie, or Cujo? Valerie would argue he was rushing to the aid of the ghost, if he was wise. 

Fenton sped over before gripping his wheels tight to come to a stop at the head of her cafeteria table. “Cujo- what the hell, boy, heel.” He commanded between huffed out breaths. He must have raced across to her from the other side of the cafeteria, Val realises. 

The ghost ducks its head and looks at Danny guiltily, but makes no effort to return to Fenton’s side.

She scowls, bringing both of her fists to her chest. Hopefully Danny didn’t see the glowing red energy she had been trying (and failing) to summon. “You know, I’ve tried to keep quiet about you bringing this ghost, of all ghosts, to school.” She mutters. 

“I know.” Danny murmurs, averting his eyes from her and shuffling forward in his chair. 

“Because against my better judgement, I trust you.” She expresses, her shoulders relax when she sees Danny lean forward to pick up the dropped end of Cujo’s leash. “But if you can’t keep him under control-” She grumbles, issuing him a warning that she knows he doesn’t understand. She’s been able to keep her identity as the Red Huntress under-wraps, after all. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry Val.” Danny says. He plants a foot on the ground for stability and leans the rest of the way forward to pick the handle of the leash up. “I thought Tucker had a better grip on his leash. But Cujo just took off- Cujo, heel.” He tries again, glaring at the ghost. 

Once again, the ghost makes no attempt to move. Valerie watches as it’s shoulders tremble again and it draws its paws closer together while it stares at her intensely. The ghosts swirling red eyes cloud her vision, so she pointedly looks away before it makes her more light-headed- since when did the sight of a ghost make dizzy? She’s so off her game. 

Cujo nods it’s head, poking it’s bright green tongue at her and letting glops of glowing drool fall to the ground. Gross. Danny seems off-put by it too, if the way his brows rocket up to his hairline and his eyes widen is any indication. 

“It shouldn’t be allowed to do that at all- It’s a monster, remember.” She hisses. 

Leash in hand, Danny rests his elbows on his knees and looks back at her with a frown. “Ix-nay on the onster-may, Val.” He says with an unimpressed tone. “He’s just doing his job.” He says slowly, reaching out to scratch behind the ghost's ear. He whispers a quiet “Good boy” to him, which has Valerie’s frown setting deeper. 

“Nuh-uh, not good- that damn ghost is anything but good.” She protests, “It nearly attacked me!”

“Cujo would never,” Danny says, rubbing Cujo’s cheeks and smushing around the excess skin of his face with his palms. “Look at this sweet little face.” He says, guiding Cujo to face her. Any other student might describe Cujo’s eyes as round and sparkling, as his tongue lolls out of his maw happily. Valerie only sees those large fangs of his. “He just loves to do what he was trained for.”

“Oh I bet.” Val says bitterly. “Phantom would train him to attack me.”

Fenton shoots her a look, one brow quirked higher than the other, and his head tilts to the side. “Why would Phantom want Cujo to attack a random student?” He asks, letting go of the dog and sitting back in the wheelchair again. As soon as Danny settles and pats his lap in invitation, Cujo morphs back into his (deceiving) puppy form and plops down. Danny fishes out a treat for him, and hands him that damn pink squeaky toy. The ghosts’ deceptively blunt fangs sink into the pink rubber as the squeaker inside whines. 

“He’s not all that great.” Valerie huffs. With Cujo back on his leash and distracted, she feels comfortable relaxing a bit more. She slept horribly, she doesn’t need to be this tense- she leans forward against her empty table. “Someday he’s going to show his true colours.”

“Colour, singular; he’s just green. Black and white doesn't count, they’re tones.” Danny quips. Valerie rolls her eyes so hard her headache flares up again and she winces. “Anyway- Val, out of curiosity-”

“What is it Fenton?” Valerie mutters through gritted teeth, rubbing a circle on her temples to try and soothe her headache. 

“Did you- Oh, I don’t know- Stay up all of last night, potentially doing something physically draining, without eating before or after?” Danny asks without a breath. 

“... What?” Eyes narrowing, Valerie looks back at Danny again. He can’t have any clue that she’s the Red Hunter, Danny never sticks around during ghost fights, and no one else has ever alluded to knowing her secret. 

“It’s a normal question-” Danny says quickly. “You- Uh- You work out, right? If I remember correctly, you’re a black belt. Did you, like-” He pauses, eyes flitting around as he tries to think, “Do you have a competition you were training for? Or something?” He guesses. 

Val flinches. She can't tell him the truth, that she was out ghost hunting, so she accepts the excuse he doesn’t know he’s offered her. “Yeah… That’s it. I don’t have time to train during the day between work and school.” She agrees. “Yeah, I was training.”

“Right,” Danny nods, “and you haven’t eaten.”

“How could you possibly know that?” She asks.

“Oh, uh- Sam’s diabetic, and Cujo’s trained for diabetic alert.” Danny points out. Which… Yeah, Val remembers seeing Cujo’s patch for that now, and she thinks she’s seen the dog alerting to civilians after ghost fights. She had just brushed it off as a PR thing; if Cujo could alert to a random civilian's low or high blood sugar, that meant that Phantom got to swoop in and educate the public and look like a hero. Though Valerie knew better. She knew to be suspicious of how he even got those resources in the first place. 

“Cujo was alerting to your low blood sugar.” Danny continues, “And you look-”

“How do I look, Fenton?” Valerie challenges

“... Like you- uh… Like you’re- um.” Danny struggles, voice cracking, “Uh- You look lovely?” Danny winces.

“That was a terrible save.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Danny sighs, “Look, the point is, do you have food? You need to eat.” 

“That’s none of your business.” She huffs, though her cheeks feel a little warm at the reminder that she forgot her wallet. 

“It is if Cujo’s gonna break away again to alert to you.” He says. “He’s too helpful.” He mutters, stroking Cujo’s back. 

“He’s a good for nothing ghost.” Valerie retorts instinctively. 

“He’s been quite good for me, actually. Sam, too.” Danny points out, an almost smug expression spreads across his face.

Valerie frowns and looks away from him. 

"And he’s good for all those civilians he alerts to during fights…” Danny points out, his tone sickly sweet, before he chokes and stutters out, “or so I've been told, because- obviously- I'm not... at those..." Danny coughs. "Anyway. You need to eat something. Come on."

"I don't have lunch money today." Valerie points out. "I'll be fine, I've got work right after school, I'll eat there."

"You should eat now, though, is the thing." Danny says. "Don't worry about the money. The second Sam hears Cujo alerted to you, you'll have to fight her not to buy you lunch." Danny continues. 

"I don't need your pity, Danny." Valerie says.

"It's not pity-” Danny groans, “Look, it can just be a juice box and a granola bar if you're that bothered by it." Danny says. "That's like... 3 bucks worth of food. You can pay us back or give us extra fries next time we're at Nasty Burger. Just... please, come with me, have some juice, get your blood sugar back up." Danny locks the wheels of his chair and extends a gloved hand to her. 

Valerie glares at it, then flicks her eyes to where Sam and Tucker are sitting. Tucker’s head is down, he’s either got his nose buried in some gadget, or he’s scarfing down his meal. Sam, though, is staring right at her with a puzzling look, as if she were trying to read their lips to gauge what they were talking about. But when she sees Valerie notice her, she quickly turns away and sits back down.

Valerie glances back at Danny’s hand and sighs, not rolling her eyes this time, and takes it. It’s preformative, she didn’t need him to help her stand- he’s seated too- but she still uses his help up. Disengaging his breaks, Danny spins around and guides her back to the table. 

“Hey Tuck,” Danny calls out, “Do you mind getting another juice and a granola bar?” 

The moment the request is out of Danny’s mouth, Sam’s eyes widen and her mouth falls open. She turns around to start digging through her bag.

Tucker looks up from his PDA, “What for- you know I’m saving right now-” He begins, but he’s cut off when Sam thrusts her card into his face with her manicured hands.

“Use that. Juice, granola, and something else substantial. Doesn’t matter what, my treat.” Sam says quickly. 

Tucker looks between the card and her, shrugs, turns his PDA off, accepts the card, and stands “Whatever. Can I get something too?” He asks. Sam has already turned back to face Valerie and has shuffled to make room on the seat next to her. Tucker takes Sam’s dismissive handwave as a yes and walks away.

“What’s happening?” Valerie asks cautiously, slowly lowering to the seat beside Sam, as the goth places a small, plastic wrapped fabric container on the table. It strikes Valerie with an odd sense of familiarity, but she can’t remember where she’s seen one of these packages before. When did her mind start to get this foggy?

“I told you, once Sam figures out Cujo alerted to you, you’d have to fight her to get her to back down.” Danny said, situating himself back at his usual spot at the head of their table. Cujo’s leash has been tied back to the frame of his chair, not that it looks like the dog has any intention of gallivanting off now that he has his favourite toy between his paws. 

Sam rips open the plastic packaging to reveal a small, orange fabric case. “I hope you don’t mind the colour, I’m all out of anything else.” She says. She unzips the case, revealing a small device inside. 

Oh, now she remembers. This is one of those blood glucose monitor kits that she’s seen Phantom handing out when Cujo alerts. “I suppose you’re where Phantom gets these kits then.” She says, unable to hide her displeased tone. She already knew that most of the school was head over heels for the vigilante ghost, but she assumed he acted as a lone wolf. Which, yes, meant she assumed that these kits were likely stolen- but somehow she feels worse knowing that Samantha Manson was his supplier. You would think that her best friends’ ghost hunter parents would have taught her a bit more sense. 

“Yep, they were my idea. It’s easier to educate some people about blood glucose levels when they actually get to experience a test.” She says proudly, unpacking one of the test strips and loading it into the machine. “One test kit per person; may as well put my parent’s gross amount of money to good use.” She explains. "Now c'mere, gimme your hand!" Sam says, holding out her palm.