It was just a regular Tuesday. He'd woken at his usual time of 5:00AM, where he'd then proceeded to fight whichever ghost had decided to set off his ghost sense at such an ungodly hour. Then, if he was lucky, he'd be on time for school where Dash would give him his morning beating.

His body ached; the newly formed cuts stung under his usual attire of white shirt and jeans, and Danny knew there were a few bruises forming on his neck and other areas of his body. It had gotten to a point now where he couldn't blame Dash anymore, as even his bully had started to notice how battered he looked each day.

"Danny!" he heard someone hiss, drawing him out of his daydream. Turning his head, he saw Sam, wide eyed as she gestured to his desk. Following her gaze, he almost yelped as he saw his arms through the wood. Quickly retracting them, his eyes frantically swept the room for any sign of one of his classmates witnessing the act. As he'd suspected, they were too lost in their own thoughts to pay any attention to Mr Lancer's dull presentation on Shakespeare never mind nerdy, Daniel Fenton. "You have to stop dozing off, someone will catch you." He knew Sam was right. This was becoming a habit of his, and it wasn't just happening at school, it was home too. If his parents even caught a glimpse of him accidentally showing signs of ghost powers, they'd tear him apart molecule by molecule. He couldn't help but shudder at the thought. He knew his parents would never hurt him, but Phantom? They made threats to the ghost boy at least ten times a day.

"I know Sam, but I can't exac–" The bang of the door opening drowned out his whisper, and fortunately for Mr Lancer, woke up most of the class.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lancer shouted, only to be shoved out of the way by–oh no. Guys in White. The government's pathetic excuse for ghost hunters.

"Is there a Danny Fenton in this class?" One of the men demanded. Danny felt his voice catch at the back of his throat as all heads turned to him. Oh great. In seconds, guns were out and pointing from every direction toward him. "Daniel James Fenton, in accordance with the federal anti-ecto control act, article one, subsection A, you're under arrest." Under arrest? This wasn't the first time they'd tried to arrest him, but last time they knew his secret. Did that mean? They knew?

"Under arrest? For what exactly?" Sam burst out, and Danny was glad to be reminded he had his friend right there with him. Tucker was currently on his way home from visiting his grandparents in Florida, so it had just been the two of them all week.

"That is none of your concern." One agent shot back, only to receive a deadly glare from the goth.

"I think it is." Danny blinked as his teacher spoke, straightening his tie as he gathered himself from being shoved. Two agents glanced at each other, as if communicating something, before one took out a black radio.

"Code Delta. Lock down the school." Finally tearing his eyes off the many guns, Danny gave an uncertain glance to Sam, who returned the expression. He was in trouble. And this wasn't exactly a situation in which he could phase out of. If the Guys in White knew his secret, then his life was over. He'd be hunted, his friends too. He couldn't put them through that. Not again. Pushing away the part of his mind that was screaming for him to run, to hide; Danny stood up. He heard the buzz of their guns as they readied themselves to fire if he were to do anything.

"If I go with you, you'll leave everyone alone?" He could practically feel Sam's eyes burning into his skin as he moved from his desk.

"If you come willingly. Yes."

"And if I don't come willingly? What will you do?" He dreaded the answer, but he knew if he went with them, no one would get hurt. Sam wouldn't get hurt.

"Then your classmates will be in harms way."

"Aren't we already in harms way? Fenton isn't the one pointing guns at us!" Dash shouted from the back, receiving cheers from the other kids in the room.

"The guns are necessary. Subject D, is a class seven threat. He must be detained."

"Detained?" Sam scoffed, standing up and slamming her hands down onto her desk. "This is a school. You can't just burst in, guns blazing!" Glancing at Sam, his eyes softened, silently communicating with her to back down. He knew she was stubborn enough to risk her own neck to save his, but this time, he wasn't going to let her. He didn't want her mixed up in this, nor anyone else in his class.

"Okay. I'll come with you." The leader of the agents, the one who Danny was presuming was in charge, stepped forward. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, actually he did, he'd just pushed down all thoughts on the matter to the back of his mind. The thought of being dissected wasn't a good one, and Danny could feel his heart begin to race as the thoughts began to resurface. He could phase out of there right now, but in doing so, he'd blow his secret and give the G.I.W the proof they needed.

"Hold out your arms. Slowly." Danny did as he was told, watching as thick, metal bracelets were clamped around his wrists. He knew immediately there were to block his abilities, and they were. Before the G.I.W were pitiful, no good ghost hunters but now their technology was actually working? Where had they–Right. How could he be so stupid? They'd bought it off his parents. Or stole it. But then again, if anything was stolen from his parents, he wouldn't hear the end of it. "Subject D, detained. Begin decontamination process."

Decontamination? Danny didn't have time to think about it as a white piercing pain erupted from his wrists. His body trembled at the shock, his legs not able to hold up his weight anymore. As he began to fall, pairs of thick, black gloves tightly grabbed onto him, pulling him onto his feet and toward the door.

"Wha–" He could hear the scrapes of chairs against the classroom's floor, the shouts of the students as they protested to his treatment. One voice in particular is what he tried to focus on, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open. "Sam..." he muttered incoherently, as he fell into an unconscious state.