Hidden Secrets (There is More Than One)

Chapter Two

He had just finished getting his last binder out of his locker when he heard something slamming into metal. When he turned the corner to investigate, he saw Dash had Mikey pressed up against one of the lockers. A quick thought of sympathy went out to the poor kid who now had a sizeable dent in their locker.

He sped walked down the hallway until he was four feet or so away from the situation. "Hey, Dash, what did your girlfriend dump you because you collect every toenail you've ever clipped? Or maybe it's your teddy bear collection?"

Just as he had planned, the comment got Dash's attention, even if it wasn't the most desired outcome. "What was that Fenton?" he asked angrily. "You heard me, Dash," he responded, "now why don't you let Mikey go and we can talk this out?"

"I have a better idea," was all the warning he got before Dash's hand fisted the top of his shirt and he was hoisted up into the air. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Mikey running down the halls and turning in the direction of the front of the school. Good. "You see Fentrash, Lancer gave me a C- on my English paper, and I thought I'd celebrate by whaling on some nerds, but now I can rough up the school's biggest loser."

Suddenly, the blonde haired male's other fist was hitting his chest and arms; not hard enough to break something or cause serious injury, but definitely hard enough to leave some bruises behind. It didn't matter though, because he could take it. He was cut, blasted, hit, burned, electrified, and so much more almost every day, so this is fine. It's okay because he can take it (just nobody else) (protect, protect, PROTECT!). It was all right. Right? (WRONG!)

By the time Dash was finished with venting out his frustration, bruises had already started to become visible along his arms. He was sure that there were more hidden underneath his shirt, and more to come, but they would all be gone after a few hours. Just like always.

He couldn't remember Dash leaving, but he must have, because he was the only one left in the hallway. He picked up his backpack from where he had discarded it by his own locker before glancing up at the clock on the wall, noticing that the two hands pointed to 3:14. A reminder that Tucker and Sam were supposed to be waiting on him ran through his mind before he turned on his heel and ran in the direction of Sam's locker.

"Sam!" "Tuck!"

Thank Clockwork, they're still here. "Sorry," he said, his breath slightly hitched from a mix of the beating he had just taken, his sprint, and the toll that breathing was taking on his aching chest, "Dash got a C- on his English paper and wanted to take it out on Mikey. I got there before he could hurt him though." Their eyes roamed up and down his body, focusing on the forming bruises one after another.

But Tucker was the one to point it out with a question in his eyes, "Umm, Dude, it looks like he decided to take it out on you?"

"Better that he picks on someone who can take it;" he stood up taller," besides, this doesn't even hurt anymore." He decided to ignore the looks that his two best friends sent to each other. He caught them doing that often now, but he wasn't sure if they realized just how much he caught them in the act. "So should we leave now or wait for Dash to come back for round two?"

A few blocks away from the school, Sam asked him a question about his parents, but he stopped in his tracks when she made mention of their dinner last night, if it could be classified as such. He could feel the lingering pains as though they were still biting him several hours after their "meal" had taken place.

"We do not speak of the food in the Fenton household." He was confident that his parents were the only beings in existence that could mess up food worse than M'gann, although she had been getting better lately.

Tucker then echoed the first part of Sam's question. Oh yeah, his parents. He cared about them, but he couldn't stand to think about what his parents said about Phantom and what they would do if they ever captured him.

Knowing that Sam would just press harder without some form of an answer, he responded, "Oh the usual, got another bright idea that they're going to use, and I quote," he said through a melancholy tone, "'rip that ectoplasmic piece of skum Phantom apart molecule by molecule.' Good news, Jazz told them that it is not a good topic to discuss in the kitchen, bad news, they will say it literally anywhere else."

Sam opened her mouth, but Tucker not so subtly motioned for her to stop pushing. He was just glad that she left it alone this time.

Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar ring tone coming from the inside of his bag. A brief look of surprise crossed his face before he placed his backpack on the ground. He grabbed the phone that The League had given him from the secret pocket inside of his bag (he wouldn't want the odd, high-tech phone to be obvious to anybody who glanced into the backpack) before checking the caller ID.

Seeing that it was Robin, he apologized to Sam and Tucker, noting that he had to take this call before turning away slightly, but making sure that his friends still remained within his sight.

"Hey Robbie, nice to hear from you and all, but why are you calling me?"

"Would you stop calling me that? It's annoying."

"Well, I can't use your actual name now can I?" It was true. With the exception of Wally, the team was not privy to the true identity of the Boy Wonder. Also, his friends were not stupid, and fans of the Dynamic Duo. If they heard him calling some unknown person that he couldn't explain "Robin" they would be even more suspicious than they're already going to be. The chances that they would assume that this Robin was the same Robin who went swinging through Gotham were very low, but he wouldn't put it past them.

"Do what everyone else does and call me 'Rob.'"

"But 'Robbie' is so much better than 'Rob.'"

"What would it take you to stop calling me that?"

"I'm not going to stop until I have something better to call you."

"Ugh, you're impossible!" Danny could hear muffled words coming from the other line, presumably talking to Robin. "Oh yeah, um right.. where are you right now?"

"I'm in Amity with my friends right now." Maybe Batman had an unexpected mission for them come up and he was needed? "Is this some sort of emergency?"

"You were supposed to be here for training twenty-two minutes ago. You're late," Robin said through a sing-song voice. He panicked.

"But that's not until Thursday, it's Wednesday?"

"No? Today is Thursday. Did you sleep last night?"

The question went ignored as he turned to Tucker and Sam, "What day of the week is it?!" After receiving confirmation that it was, in fact, Thursday and not Wednesday, he turned his head back towards the phone.

"Oh man, BC's going to kill me as much as possible before making me do extra!" He was not looking forward to the brutal training that was in his future. "I'll be there as fast as I can."

He tossed his phone back into his backpack before running off, giving his friends a rushed "goodbye" and "sorry," saying that he'd find time to reschedule before coming around the corner, turning invisible, and flying off in the direction of the recently installed zeta tube.