This Place Will Become Your Tomb

Are You Really Okay?

The morning light filtered through the windows of Amity Park High School, casting soft, golden rays across the tiled floors. It was a bright, crisp day—one of those rare mornings where the world seemed almost peaceful, as if everything was as it should be.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Danny felt... okay.

He sat at the usual table in the cafeteria, his hands wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee, the faint hum of conversation swirling around him like a comfortable background noise. Sam and Tucker sat across from him, chatting about some new video game they'd picked up over the weekend, their voices relaxed, familiar. Danny hadn't said much, but that was normal. He didn't need to say much.

The past few days had been... better. Not great, but better. The suffocating pressure that had been sitting on his chest, crushing him from the inside out, had eased a little. The constant nausea had lessened, and his powers had been relatively stable, at least as far as anyone else could tell. He hadn't had a panic attack in days, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Danny felt like he could breathe without it hurting.

Maybe things are turning around.

He'd even slept a little better last night, the nightmares fading into a dull, distant haze rather than the sharp, visceral images that had haunted him for so long. When he woke up that morning, he didn't feel the immediate surge of dread twisting in his stomach, and that alone felt like a victory.

He didn't tell Sam or Tucker about the shift—didn't want to jinx it. But when they'd asked him to grab coffee with them after school, Danny had actually said yes. And now, sitting here the next morning across from his friends and listening to them laugh and talk like everything was normal, Danny almost let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, things were getting better.

He smiled, a small, tentative thing, but real. Sam noticed and nudged Tucker with her elbow, a triumphant look on her face. "See? I told you he just needed some time."

Tucker grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied nod. "I knew you'd come around. We missed you, dude."

Danny chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I missed you guys too."

The words felt genuine. He had missed them. He'd missed feeling normal, missed laughing and joking with his friends without the constant weight of anxiety pulling him under. The lightness in his chest was unfamiliar, almost strange, but not unwelcome.

They spent the next hour just hanging out—talking, laughing, catching up on everything Danny had missed while he'd been retreating into himself. It felt good. It felt easy, for the first time in weeks. The pressure was still there, lingering at the edges, but it wasn't suffocating him. Not today.

As the bell rang for their next class, Danny stood up, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over one shoulder. He felt a little lighter, like some of the weight he'd been carrying had lifted, even if just for a moment.

"See you guys later," he called over his shoulder, giving Sam and Tucker a small wave as they headed in opposite directions down the hall. His steps felt more even, his breath easier.

Maybe I'm finally getting through this.

But as Danny made his way down the hallway, weaving through the crowd of students, a strange, nagging feeling settled in the back of his mind. It was faint at first, like a whisper, but it grew louder with each step he took.

The voices, the laughter, the noise—it all felt too loud, too close. The walls of the hallway seemed to close in, the air growing thick, suffocating. His heart, which had been steady only moments ago, began to race, thudding in his chest like a drumbeat. His breath hitched, coming in shorter, sharper bursts as the familiar knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach.