Sam was wrapping a towel around her dripping hair when someone knocked on the bedroom door, loud enough to be heard over the heavy metal blasting from her set of tower speakers. "Coming!" she called, thumbing the volume on her phone so that the music dropped to a more reasonable level. She checked that her lacy black bathrobe was cinched securely around her waist before exiting her ensuite bathroom, sighing at the rush of cooler, steam-free morning air that streamed through the open bedroom windows.

When she opened the door Valerie was standing on the other side, hands shoved in the pockets of her skirt and shoulders hunched in obvious discomfort. Sam swept out her bare arm in invitation. "Hey, come in."

She looked around as she stepped over the threshold, and Sam closed the door and made a show of casually leaning back against it. Her room was probably bigger than Valerie's entire apartment, and although she wasn't usually petty enough to flaunt her wealth, she felt a small spark of satisfaction at the way Valerie turned on the spot, mouth slightly open and eyes wide as she took in the expansive living space. Sam had been trying to be nice to Valerie, but it was still that tiny bit of revenge to see the person who had once looked down her nose at their 'loser' group be so out of her depth.

After milking the moment for another few seconds, Sam pushed off the door and headed for her closet. "Sorry," she said, "I didn't realise the time. Give me a moment." She waved her hand in a general gesture. "Sit anywhere, I'll only be a minute."

She didn't wait for a response, ducking into the large walk-in wardrobe and shutting the door firmly behind her. She'd already chosen what to wear for the day, so it was only a matter of quickly slipping on the outfit and lacing her black boots up to her knees before heading out to re-join her guest.

Valerie stared from where she perched on the window seat. "You can't be serious."

"Dead serious," Sam retorted. When Valerie didn't so much as smile, she rolled her eyes and tried again. "C'mon, dead serious? We're Team Phantom, the morbid humour's a given."

Valerie huffed. "Still, that's a bit much, don't you think?"

Sam kept her expression innocently confused and made a show of looking down at herself. "What, this? I'm just a cute pastel goth girl expressing myself."

She shook her head, slowly, like Mr Lancer did when Danny was late for the fifth time in a week. "You'll never get away with that."

She shrugged and headed back to the bathroom. "I don't mean to," she confessed. "I just want to give people something to talk about aside from the obvious. It could always be worse, y'know — it's not like I'm wearing any of my leather corsets or anything." She threw her head forward and towelled her hair vigorously. Once satisfied with the preliminary drying, she threw the towel over the edge of the bathtub and grabbed the hairbrush and dryer. "Sorry, give me about ten minutes."

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you without makeup before," Valerie commented, moving to stand at the doorway. "It's not a bad look, just surprising… What. The. Hell."

Sam smirked at Valerie's gaping reflection in the mirror and switched the hairdryer on. "I'll be the talk of the school," she preened, running the brush through her new undercut and blasting it with a stream of hot air.

"You'll be suspended."

She shrugged. "Trouble's sort of the goal. The more people focus on me, the better."

Valerie ran a hand down her face with a groan. "Why'd you rope me into this?"

"Stop griping." Sam jerked her head in the direction of her bedroom. "You said you wanted to help, so go have a look at the stuff on my desk. Hopefully it fits."

"If it matches your outfit then I'm not wearing it."

She rolled her eyes. "Just go try it on. I'm sure you can put up with it for one day."

Valerie disappeared back through the door and Sam concentrated on making sure her hair dried without going too frizzy. She still wasn't sure this would work, despite her bravado, but it was the only thing she could think of to keep attention away from Danny on his first day back aside from an all-out brawl. The only reason she didn't choose the latter option was that Danny probably wouldn't be too happy with her for it, and she struggled enough with social relationships already without making one of her only friends mad at her.

Things had gotten easier over the past couple of weeks, but having Valerie visit for the first time was weird in a way she couldn't quite identify. Her mother had driven past them when they were walking home the other day and was thrilled that Sam finally had a girl hanging out with her, who was feminine and wore sensible clothing, even if they weren't exactly the newest or most expensive outfits. In fact, Valerie's wardrobe was pretty much the same as it had been for the past couple of years, and Sam wondered if she ever really got to buy new things. She probably just continually tried to salvage jeans and shirts from second-hand discount racks.

If Valerie wasn't so damned proud then Sam would offer to take her shopping, but right now, this was the only way to help her new friend update her look a bit. Sure, Valerie hunted ghosts in a cool suit and all, but she still wore those tired old clothes Paulina had helped her pick back when they were still friends.

Sam clicked off the hairdryer and began to apply her makeup. She'd go darker on the eyes and lips than she usually did, to offset her hair a bit. She had to rock this look for all it was worth. There was nothing really going on at school that she could protest about, and people tended to ignore that anyway, so this was hopefully enough to keep attention away from where she didn't want it.

Valerie came back just as Sam was applying the final touches, and they both looked each other over approvingly. "Black looks good on you," Sam decided.

Valerie shrugged. "I need a bit of colour in my wardrobe," she defended.

"Hence the shirt."

Her head tilted in the approximation of a nod. "Yeah, I guess. You sure it'll work?"

She flashed a grin, all teeth and confidence. "Sure it will. I get a dress code infringement and cause a scene, Tucker has his fun, and Paulina'll get stroppy because you're obviously not even trying to win her approval anymore."

"She's not that shallow."

Sam rolled her eyes. "We'll see," she said, with the carefully restrained tone that parents use when trying to hide amusement from their children. "This is the first time you're not wearing the fashion style she picked out with you since they ditched you. You just have to act like none of the A-Listers even exist."

Valerie shrugged, but her lips pressed together as she tried to hold back a smile. "I don't know why you think this'll work, but sure, let's give it a go."

Sam nodded decisively and ushered her back into the bedroom, grabbing her purple spider backpack off the floor. She took another look at Valerie's new outfit, placing her hands on her hips and giving a satisfied nod. "You should try going goth. It'd suit you."

Valerie grabbed her bag from where she'd left it by the window seat. "I'm in ripped jeans and a band shirt. I don't think I've ever worn so much black in my entire life! If I knew that's why you asked what punk bands I like I don't know if I would've told you."

"Well, you rock the look. If your suit wasn't stored in your bracelets I'd get you to take them off, but I guess we have to work with what we've got."

Valerie frowned. "They're the smallest accessory I could fit it in."

Sam rolled her shoulders as though her backpack was going to drag her to the floor. "Tell me about it. Danny's so lucky, the only thing he ever has to carry is the Thermos. Which ends up in my bag, like, all the time."

Valerie snorted and followed Sam out the door. "What are you gonna do if your mother sees you wearing that?"

"She's already out." The heels of her boots clicked on marble as they descended the sweeping staircase. "We'd be using the window otherwise."

They crossed the foyer without incident, stepping out the front door into sunlight. Sam smirked as her bangs practically glowed in her peripheral vision. This was lighter than she'd ever done her hair before, and was so far beyond what the school deemed acceptable that she was bound to get in trouble as soon as she stepped foot in the building. Couple the new hairstyle with the 'inappropriate' slogan on her shirt, and she knew she wouldn't escape without a string of detentions. It was for the greater good though! With Danny returning for the first time in weeks, she'd do anything she could to keep him out of the spotlight. He said he had a handle on hiding everything with his illusion things, but he always said he was better when he wasn't and she didn't want too much attention to cause a slip in his control. Sometimes, when Dash pushed him into a locker particularly hard, or when Wes hounded him with conspiracy theories, Danny's illusions wavered, and his scars flickered through. Most people were just too oblivious to notice.

Now that he was hiding a lot more than just a bunch of scars, Sam didn't want to risk any slip-ups.

Sunlight glanced off metal as Valerie's suit flowed over her body, and her hoverboard folded out from the soles of her boots. "Here," she offered, holding out her hand.

Sam allowed herself to be hoisted onto the board and hooked her arms around Valerie's waist. The trip was short but the rush of air was exhilarating, and Sam closed her eyes and sighed deeply as gravity tugged at her gut. They arrived without incident, and Valerie landed in one of the side streets that Danny regularly used.

Tucker was waiting for them, leaning against the wall and playing with his phone. He looked up as they arrived and gave a little wave before his mouth fell open. "Are you trying to get suspended?" he gasped as Sam dismounted.

"If it distracts people from Danny, then sure." Sam rolled her eyes as his mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. "Besides, I needed a haircut anyway."

"You're insane," he muttered. "Did you tell her she's insane?"

Valerie shrugged as her suit tucked itself back into her bracelets. "Not like she'd listen to me anyway. And how is it that I'm the only one not dressed like I want to be kicked out of class?"

Sam snorted as Tucker clapped a hand over his heart, glasses slipping down his face as he faked offence. "I'll have you know, this shirt is a classic!"

"And banned on school grounds, after last year."

"That's the point, though, isn't it?" He pushed his glasses back up his nose and stepped closer, reaching out to touch Sam's hair with a look of wonder on his face. "Dude, how did you manage this? Your hair was still black yesterday!"

She smirked and swatted him away. "You forget who you're talking to."

"I still don't think this'll work," Valerie muttered. "Nobody's seen him since he got shot. People'll want to talk to him. It'll suck for a few days, then die down, like it always does."

Sam rolled her eyes and made a show of adjusting her backpack. "It'll keep some people off his back a bit," she said. "The last thing we need is for him to be distracted enough that his illusions fail. If his powers mess up, we can cause a scene so people don't notice, and if anyone tries to bother him I'll punch them in the face. Now can we go? My bag's super heavy today." She headed for the end of the street, not bothering to check if they were following her.

Danny would probably be disappointed if he were here to sense her irritation, but Sam was trying to get along with Valerie. It was just hard to break old habits, that's all.

She stepped out of the alleyway and into the sun. There was a steady stream of students walking to school, and Sam grinned when a couple of freshmen jumped out of her path with looks of absolute horror. They hurried past, whispering and glancing back once they were at a safe distance.

Tucker and Valerie fell into step beside her, and the gaggle of students parted like the red sea as the trio approached the school. Her boots clicked against the front steps and she felt invincible, holding her chin high and looping her arms through her friends' as they walked inside the building.

They made it to their lockers without incident, and Sam dumped all her books except the ones she needed for her first class. The ectoguns stayed in her bag, but she pulled out a shirt and put it in her locker, for when she was inevitably sent to change. Sure, it was fun, and certain to get her in trouble, but she already didn't like the way people whooped and jeered when they managed to read what her shirt said.

Maybe she could stage a protest after all…

Tucker nudged her shoulder, breaking her out of the daydream of initiating an anti-discrimination protest before first period. "Ready?" he asked.

She shrugged and slammed her locker closed as the bell rang. "Let's do this." The two of them walked in the direction of their first class, Valerie joining them as they passed her locker. They reached the room before anybody else, and Sam tried to keep the smile off her face. Maybe this was a stupid idea, but it was better than sitting back and doing nothing.

As agreed, Danny was already sitting at his desk, looking completely and utterly normal. Not a single shining scale in sight. He looked up from his phone as they entered, eyes going wide and mouth falling open. "Uh… what?!"

She gave him her biggest, most innocent smile, and dumped her bag on the desk next to his. "Morning, Danny."

He blinked, and small, strangled sounds worked their way out of his throat as he looked at each of them in turn, but then Danny got a proper look at Sam and Tucker's shirts and moaned. "You… oh man, I thought we burned those!"

Valerie rolled her eyes. "They're crazy," she insisted.

Sam leaned against her desk, flipping her significantly shorter hair like she was in one of those stupid shampoo commercials. "But Danny, I needed a haircut!"

"You're gonna get suspended," he sighed. "As soon as Lancer gets here, I give it ten seconds before he kicks you out."

"What the hell?"

Sam smiled sweetly at the doorway as a gaggle of their classmates stood there in shock. Danny shrank back in his seat at their appearance, ducking his head and pretending to be busy with his phone. They filtered into the room, tittering and commenting on her sudden change in appearance. A few people wished Danny a quiet welcome back, but with a smiling Sam perched on her desk looking like a walking detention, they kept a wide berth.

Somehow, unbelievably, it seemed to be working, and when Danny's shoulders visibly relaxed Sam deemed it safe enough to move into her chair. She still smiled whenever someone caught her eye, and they quickly looked away every time. A smiling Sam was a dangerous Sam, and none of them would really want to be in her firing line this early on a Monday morning.

None of them, of course, except a certain conspiracy theorist.

Wes Weston stopped so abruptly in the doorway that Nathan walked right into his back. He stumbled into the room, spluttering as he pointed at the group. "Um… what?!"

Sam smiled at him, soft and predatory, and she could see the hesitation in the way he paused, eyes widening and the lump in his throat bobbing as he swallowed. She didn't need Danny's ability to sense emotions to read this flicker of uncertainty, and it bolstered her confidence. She could pull this off, she could.

It took a moment, but Wes regrettably overcame his reservations. He dropped his bag on his empty desk and stalked down the aisle until he was looming over Danny. "Fenton."

Danny leaned his chin in one hand, using the other to scroll through his phone. His invisible tail curled around Sam's ankle, and she leaned slightly closer, brushing against his arm. Sure, he appeared nonplussed, but the way he leaned into her touch was all the proof she needed of his building tension.

"Beat it, Weston," she snapped. Danny didn't need the stress of Wes so early in the day, not when he had to keep a perfect illusion over his scales and his extra limbs invisible for the next six hours.

The idiot ignored her. "Where have you been, hm?" He narrowed his eyes, and his tone was low with the threat of confidence. "You know, it's so strange. The day you got shot by the Guys in White, by a ghost-hunting gun, Phantom disappeared for weeks."

She clenched her fists in her lap as the room went quiet. Danny tensed beside her. "It's too early for this," he grumbled.

Wes snorted. "What, you don't deny being a ghost? You'll finally admit—"

"Maybe he just doesn't want to talk about how he literally had holes punched through his organs?" Sam snapped with a caustic glare. "He almost died, so maybe you could stop reminding him of his trauma on his first day back?"

Next to her, Danny kept his head down, and Sam wanted nothing more than to slap that smug grin off Wes' face. It was okay, they'd planned for something like this. They'd just follow their script…

Wes slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a photograph. "You sure that's all?" he taunted, smugly waving it close enough so that they could see the image of Danny Fenton pulling a shirt over his head. The photo was shot through his half-open curtains, at an angle that would have been impossible from the ground. Wes must have climbed the tree across the road to be able to see Danny standing in the middle of the second-storey bedroom.

Something in the photo caught Sam's eye and her hand tightened around Danny's wrist.

Two black wings were partially unfolded from his scaly back.

"I only got this one this morning," Wes crowed. "He can shapeshift, and last time I checked, that's not something that living people can do."

The rapidly filling classroom murmured with quiet laughter. Sam hoped that it was aimed at the absurdity of the claim.

"Oh, come on," Valerie cut in, "you totally photoshopped that." She leaned over from the desk behind Sam and plucked the picture from his hand. "This is such an amateur job. Do you think we're stupid?"

Wes audibly ground his teeth as some of the other students tittered. "You're just protecting him!" he shouted, pointing dramatically at Valerie. Sam watched warily, slipping her arm through Danny's and squeezing his wrist. He'd tensed the moment he'd seen the picture, and she really needed him to stay calm right now. This was unexpected, and he never really did well with unexpected threats to his secret.

"Why would I protect a ghost?" Valerie was saying.

"Put on your suit then!" he shot back. "Show me your ghost tracker! That'll prove it!"

"Oh, but I'm not allowed to use it when there isn't a threat to student safety," she drawled, and Sam couldn't hold back a chuckle at the sheer condescension that oozed from Valerie's voice. "If I recall, you were one of the people who insisted I have new school rules, especially for me."

Wes' face was slowly turning red beneath his freckles, the colour seeping down his neck and over his ears. "I'm tired of you people making a fool out of me! I know what the truth is, so show me your tracker!"

"Enough."

Everyone went still as ice cracked in Danny Fenton's usually carefree voice, and the room fell silent once again. Wes' forehead creased and he opened his mouth, but Danny spoke first. "I almost died, Wes. Not only that, but a video of me bleeding out on the pavement went viral, and people keep reuploading it every time it gets taken down. I'm sure you've seen it?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Great," Danny interrupted, looking past Wes to the rest of the room. "All of you saw it?" There was barely a moment for them to nod. "Great." He glared at the spluttering boy standing beside him. "Everyone's seen me practically bleed to death on the ground. And guess what? I think we can all agree that I'm not dead, because you all saw in the video that I bleed red."

It was like time stopped, and for a moment Sam wondered if Clockwork had intervened, but Wes' mouth opened and closed like he couldn't figure out how to break the silence and the motion was enough to get her moving. Danny had grown too tense, and she needed to get Wes away from him now. "You can go," she said, staring straight into the idiot's wide green eyes.

Wes didn't move. The tail around her ankle was so tight that Sam's toes were starting to tingle, and she subtly shifted her foot. The pressure lessened, and she gently pulled her arm out of his grasp and stood up. Nobody spoke, their eyes following her movements. "Go on." She moved around the desk, placing herself between the two boys. "I think you've caused enough PTSD for one day."

To his credit, he took a moment to back down, but after a breath or two his shoulders dropped and he took the photo back from Valerie. "You're just his tramp," he snapped, giving her a final glare.

She didn't mean to, she really didn't mean to, but before Sam registered what she was doing her knuckles cracked across his jaw.

"Samantha Manson!" a dreadfully familiar voice bellowed from the doorway as Mr Lancer stepped into the room.

Wes reeled back, sprawling against Star's desk behind him and sending the contents of her open pencil case scattering across the floor. He clapped his hands over his mouth and made a choked noise as sudden tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. Tears were a natural reaction to being punched in the mouth, but it was still so satisfying for Sam to see.

Their teacher dumped an armful of papers on his desk and glared at her. "Go to the office and wait for me there," he snapped. Ooh, she could practically feel the suspension just from the way he looked at her. Funny. He hadn't even had time to put his coffee down, or notice her inappropriate shirt or pastel lilac hair. Nope, she was going to get suspended for slugging Wes Weston in the face, and as her knuckles began to sting and blood dripped off his chin she couldn't have been happier.

"He deserved it," Tucker interrupted, standing so quickly that his chair slammed into the desk behind him. "He was teasing Danny about what happened, and saying he was a ghost again, and photoshopped a picture of him. He also called Sam a tramp. If she didn't punch him, I was going to."

Mr Lancer pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Sam, Wes, Tucker. Go to the office. Now."

"Why me?" Tucker whined. "I didn't hit anyone!"

Their teacher looked bone-achingly weary, and the bell to begin the first class of the week hadn't even rung yet. "Your shirt."

Tucker made a show of looking down at himself. "This old thing? Mr Lancer, it's a classic!"

"Now."

"But it's not gay if he's dead!"

The class erupted into laughter. Even after all this time, the joke was still great. Sam wound back to her seat and grabbed her bag, smirking at the memory of how almost the entire school had exploded with the meme about a year ago. Back when Wes had first started spreading his theories Tucker had the brilliant idea of making it seem like the poor guy just had a crush on Phantom. It became bad enough to warrant a total ban, and she inwardly admitted that it had been maybe a little too mean, but at least nobody had taken Wes seriously after that.

Sam and Tucker both wearing the shirt now, with everything that had just happened, was the perfect amount of irony. It was probably why Wes had insulted her as well, come to think of it, but she shook out her fist and grinned anyway.

She gave Danny's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Mr Lancer pointed to the door. "Just go," he sighed, running a hand over his balding head with an exasperation that was usually reserved for the last period of the day.

Valerie slid into the vacated seat next to Danny, and as Sam led the way to the door, she hoped that their new friend would be able to keep Danny steady without them.

She almost regretted getting kicked out so quickly, but the sight of Wes with blood pouring between his fingers after a year of harassing them was absolutely worth it.

She flashed the class a smile, gave a jaunty little wave, and stepped out the door.

For any readers confused about this random character, go google "who the heck is Wes?"

Thanks for reading!