Phantom Falls

17: Discovered

The above artwork does not belong to me.

There was no way Danny could brush this off.

Wendy narrowed her eyes. "Danny, answer me. Why are you bleeding?"

The boy had frozen, zipping up his hoodie and looking around wildly. He took quick, shallow breaths for a few seconds before trying to slow them down.

The lumberjack's daughter saw that it was no use, however. Danny was totally freaking out. "I . . . uh . . . I got a cut on my chest. From the fall. Yeah, that totally happened."

He started frantically making his way to the shack, swinging his crutches in wide arcs.

"Danny!" Dipper yelled. "What the heck, man? That's not safe, you're going to fall."

They ran after him. "I'm just gonna grab my phone and go. C'mon, Jazz, you can patch me up at home."

Wendy stepped in front of the door, blocking it. "Uh, no. You aren't going anywhere but inside."

The boy looked between her and the others. He seemed to think for a moment, then decided something. "I'll just leave without my phone."

The twins and Pacifica were in his way, though, and Ford and Jazz hung out behind them. He seemed to be trying to tell Jazz something with his eyes, but she just stared.

Ford finally spoke. "Let's get you fixed up, kid. I've got medical supplies in the shack."

Danny glared at him. "I don't think so, Ford," he snapped.

Wendy was shocked. She'd thought that Danny had only ever met the scientist once, without really talking to him. Had they somehow spoken when no one was around?

Mabel looked at him with wide, chocolate eyes. "Danny," she began slowly, as if talking to a frightened puppy, "it's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell us."

He shook his head, still glancing around. His face was pale, and he looked like he wanted to bolt. She'd never seen him act this anxious.

No one moved for a few moments, until Ford strode over to the group. "Come on, Danny, inside." The scientist grabbed Danny, picking him up bridal style.

"Hey! Ford, you'd better put me down!"

He ignored the boy, and Wendy opened the door. Everyone poured into the living room. "Dipper, run down to the lab and grab some supplies," he said. Dipper obliged.

Stan walked in, drinking Pitt cola. He nearly did a spit take. "What are you doing, Ford?"

The scientist set Danny on the couch. He struggled to get up. "Give me back my crutches, or I will drag myself out of here without them!"

Blood was starting to seep through his sweater, now. "Dude, stop flipping out! You're hurt, and you're just making it worse!" Wendy gently pushed him down.

Dipper ran back into the room. "I got bandages, rubbing alcohol, gauze--"

"Good, good," Ford interrupted. "Danny, take off your shirt."

"No!"

He sounded almost like a child to Wendy, only more desperate. "Danny! You're bleeding, so let Ford help and quit being a butthead."

Again, he refused, crossing his arms over his chest. Finally, Ford snapped. "Boy, if you don't let me bandage you right now, I'll tell them your secret!"

Dead silence. Jazz raised her eyebrows in surprise. Pacifica and the twins just stared. Wendy couldn't even form a coherent thought.

The boy stuttered out, "You-- you wouldn't."