#fun imagery

“I think if there were any ‘wayward spirits’ here, our spirit would have said something.” Tucker added jokingly.

“Mhm” Danny nodded, ignoring how the word ‘our’ made something itch. It was too true here, in front of these stupid cardboard letters.

“Just because Danny can’t sense it doesn’t mean there aren’t any. These things take time.” Sam said sagely.

She pointedly ignored Tucker’s murmur of “Isn’t that exactly what it means.”

Danny couldn’t stop the small snicker that left him. Which, as a ghost concentrating very hard, was just all around not a good idea.

The candles flickered, and the wood spun back and forth. Danny shut his eyes.

Tucker yelped, jumping back. Sam tensed in excitement.

The piece stopped. Nothing more happened.

“Okay…” Tucker said after a while, “that was weird right.”

“Something’s trying to break through the veil.” Sam insisted. The only thing Danny wanted to break was the Ouija board. “This proves it works.” Sam added eagerly.

“You’re ghost sense picking anything up, Danny?” Tucker asked.

Danny didn’t open his eyes, only shaking his head mutely, posture rigid.

“…You get spooked?” Sam asked him. She sounded worried, but Danny couldn’t focus on that even as the want to reassure her was added to with the lightest pang of obsession.

He slowly nodded, putting all of his energy into breathing at that slow, steady snails pace his lungs worked.

Finally, he opened his eyes to twin expressions of concern. “That. Scared me.” He lied shortly.

Sam and Tucker exchanged glances. “Do you want to stop?” Tucker asked.

“Yes.” Danny answered, his candles darkening. Not his, he reminded himself, pulling them out of his senses.

“What, but-“ Sam started at the same time before stopping as the room grew dimmer. “You know, yeah. Let’s do that. I mean, if we really need to see a ghost, we can just go outside.”

Danny quenched the urge to drop the room to an icy chill as Sam put away the board.

They hadn’t said goodbye.

Danny let out a shuddering breath.

“Do you… need some air?” Sam asked as Tucker began putting out candles. He felt his mind grow heavier as the room was plunged further into darkness.

He didn’t remember answering but in a moment later the curtains of Sam’s room were pulled back and sunset was shining through the window as she made to open it.

Everything in his head was shoved back into the right place and Danny realized his hands were clutching his hair. He slowly let go.

His friends didn’t ask about it, letting him gather himself.

And later, when Danny wasn’t rung so tight, maybe he’d tell them.

He’d explain how instinctually offended he’d been that something so small, so normal, so human and fragile, could bind him with such ease.

He’d stumble through the discombobulating experience of having a dozen candles eyes and darkness for a body and a single wooden mouthpiece.

He’d incorporate every pun that had been unable to escape him as he fought against the board, and laugh as his friends suffered them.

…