Chapter Text
The human brain is a marvelous thing. Its ability to adapt, understand, and ultimately dismiss even the most downright bizarre phenomena is a feat Danny would probably appreciate more if he were a normal teenager with normal parents and a normal life. As it stands (or more accurately, as he stands) on the sidewalk just outside the monstrosity that happens to be his house he thinks to himself that his brain could stand to be more sensitive to the idea of what most people considered normal .
“As neat as it is on the outside—” Sam’s voice breaks through his mental berating— “I’ve seen the Fenton church from the street before. It isn’t actually all that…” She waves a hand at the imposing, ridiculous structure. “ Inconspicuous .”
Danny feels a bead of sweat drip down his neck. Sam stands with her hip cocked to one side and crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. She grins, matte purple lipstick framing her teeth and making Danny feel suspiciously like a prey animal. “You aren’t backing out now are you? I recall someone promising a tour for my first visit to this Amity Park landmark, followed by a sweet horror movie marathon.”
The horrifying stained glass window loudly proclaiming “FENTONWORKS” in garish shades of neon green and orange leers down at them from the center of the building like a one-eyed giant, catching the afternoon sun in a way that makes it seem like its glowing. Framed on either side by large brick towers the effect was rather striking, highlighting all the ways Danny Fenton didn’t get the luxury of normal .
He groans. “Please don’t call it the ‘Fenton church’.” He makes exaggerated air quotes with his fingers. “It’s not actually a church it just used to be and my parents bought it—”
“For their crazy weird pseudo-religious science stuff yeah yeah we’ve heard the spiel before.” Tucker interrupts, tapping away on his PDA and thoroughly uninterested in Danny’s current crisis. Traitor.
The feeling multiplies when Tucker glances up at him and, registering his embarrassment, adds “You know I’ve practically grown up with you and I’m still not one hundred percent convinced your parents don’t run some kind of secret cult out of the basement. Even I’ve never been down there.”
“E tu, Brute?” Danny mutters, fixing him with a Look. Tucker knew very well what his parents did for a living, and why the basement was off limits. Sam on the other hand…
He sees the glint in her eye, registering that he’s doing himself no favors by putting off the inevitable.
He points at Tucker.“You know even Jazz and I aren’t allowed in the basement, so don’t go giving anyone any ideas.” His gaze meets Sam’s briefly as he turns, stomping to the front door and ripping it open with unnecessary force. “It’s where our parents do the bulk of their research and they’ve told us a million times—” His words cut off as he runs face first into a solid wall of day-glo orange.
“It’s dangerous stuff! That's right Danny boy!” Danny doesn't quite manage to repress his groan as his dad’s large gloved hand lands on his head with a forceful thunk , mussing up his hair. He swats it away— glaring up, up, up at his dad.
Jack Fenton is a brick wall of a man, and about as subtle as one too. Clad neck to toe in a protective hazmat suit he would be easy to spot even if he wasn’t well over six feet tall. Danny was used to the protective sigils in his dad’s signature orange embossed on every inch of the material, but he could see Sam’s eyes flicking over the patterns as she took in his dad up close for the first time. He sees her linger on the strange opaque goggles covering his eyes, the iron cross hanging from a thick chain around his neck, and the dozen or so charms dangling from his other hand.
Jack takes no notice of Danny’s discomfort as he reaches up to remove the goggles from his face, his gaze focusing instead on the teenagers loitering on the sidewalk. “Hey Tuck! And you must be the Sam girl my boy has been going on about!” He grins at her, the expression overshooting friendly and instead landing somewhere around maniacal. Danny feels his face heat up as his dad goes on, oblivious.
“I heard Danny mention he was bringing his new friend by tonight, so I grabbed a couple of protective charms to make sure you were safe!” Danny sees as his dad takes in Sam’s dark makeup and gothic appearance, his attempt at a friendly expression closing a bit. He curses inwardly. He should've known his dad would do something like this he should've warned her— as Jack nods to himself and thrusts a cross in her direction. “How about this one?”
Sam flinches “Uh—”
Danny grabs his arm, gut twisting in embarrassment. “Dad. We talked about this—”
His dad looks at his hand, then registers his expression. “Oh, right!” He pulls the cross back out of her face sheepishly. Danny lets go of his arm, watching carefully as he picks through the other charms in his hand. “Lets see we’ve got…” A variety of vaguely recognizable symbols in the form of pendants clink as Jack picks through his collection, dropping them from his hand as he dismisses them.
Sam clears her throat, causing both Fentons to snap their gaze to her. She shuffles a bit under the scrutiny, then points to a vaguely hand shaped charm dangling from his palm. “If it’s really necessary I’ll take that one.”
Jack’s eyes light up. “Oh! Good eye— hah. Get it? Eye?” He grins while handing over the hamsa pendant. “A classic protection against evil. This bad boy’ll make sure nothing in here can harm you!”
Danny feels his dad shift next to him, shoulders relaxing as Sam’s hand closes over the charm.
He almost misses as Sam registers Jack’s words, posture stiffening and expression going strangely flat as her eyes shift to meet his. She raises an eyebrow. “Harm me..?”
Time for damage control.
Danny shoves at his dad’s bulky frame. “OKAY dad that’s enough of that, she’s been given the charm can you just—” Jack grins down at his son as Danny fails to budge him— “go bother Mom or Jazz or someone please.” And leave him to explain the whole thing to his newest friend in peace—
Jack laughs, scooting over and allowing Danny a feeling of victory. “Alright alright. Your mom and I are going to be down in the basement most of the night, so shoot her text if you need anything. Enjoy your movies!” He raises an arm in a quick wave as he walks away, turning a corner and disappearing further into the house.
Tucker barks out a laugh, causing Sam to startle. She turns to glare at him as he wipes imaginary tears from his eyes.
“Ohhhh classic Mr. Fenton.” He walks up and slings an arm around Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve passed the first test. Now you can officially enter el casa de Fenton .”
Sam rolls her eyes, shoving a hand in his face to push him off her. “Har har. You got me. A little warning would have been nice?” She looks sharply at Danny.
He flinches a bit under her glare. Fair.
He rubs the back of his neck and ignores the heat creeping into his face.. “Sorry. I had hoped to get you in and get you a charm before he caught wind of us.” He looks at the charm she chose. “Cool choice though.”
She eyes it warily, looking back at him with a questioning look. “...And why exactly do I need a charm to enter your house?” She pauses. “Wait, no. More important question. What did your dad mean by ‘harm me’?”
Danny gestures for her to enter the house.
She stays put, one eyebrow quirking upward.
He sighs. “It’s one of my parents ‘Rules’. Capital R.” He holds up a hand, ticking off fingers as he recites the rules drilled into him for as long as he could remember. “Don’t enter the basement. Wear a protective charm at all times. Don’t speak to anyone that looks ‘weird’.”
He pauses, glancing upward with a look of consideration. “Well, the last one leaves room for interpretation, because they never really explained what they meant by weird and no amount of questions Jazz and I have asked have really cleared it up so…” He wiggles his hand back and forth in a ‘so-so’ gesture and refocuses his gaze on her. “Anyways there’s nothing really dangerous in my house as far as I’ve seen? You’ll see soon enough.” He gestures towards the front door, still standing slightly ajar from his dad’s exit.
Then his eyes narrow, mouth breaking into a grin that would almost be sinister on anyone else. “...unless the great Sam Manson is scared of the spooky Fenton house of course…”
He fights down the urge to laugh as she scoffs, shoving him aside. “As if. You better get on with it if you want to be able to get through all three dead teacher movies tonight.” She slips the necklace with the hamsa over her neck, tucking it into her shirt before pausing just inside the door. “Wow. this is…” She trails off as Danny and Tucker slip in behind her, closing the door.
Danny watches as she takes in the view, her expression falling. The interior is actually rather modern, with slate gray marble floors and a seating area off to the right of the door. Soft blue carpet runners line a path directly ahead to the stairs, matching the large rug that defines the seating area and compliments the pale lilac of the walls. Across the room a small set of steps leads up into the kitchen, butter yellow cabinets peaking through the service window connecting the two spaces.
He sees her gaze drift up the stairs to the second level, lingering on the portraits lining the walls. From their vantage point in the entryway the wrought-iron banisters that enclose the lofted hallway are all that is visible of the second floor, which he knows lead to his and Jazzs’ rooms. To the left of the entryway another hallway leads to his parent’s room as well as a laundry room and a bathroom.
For all the outside was grand and ostentatious, you could hardly tell the inside was anything other than an average home. There were a few signs if you knew where to look, the most obvious being the bright green and orange circle cast onto the floor of the foyer from the stained glass window and the high, arched ceilings.
Danny laughs at the disappointed look on her face. “Yeah. Nobody believes me when I tell them so it’s usually better to just see it for yourself.”
He steps in front of her and spreads his arms. “Welcome to my perfectly normal house that just happens to be built in an old church.”
Sam sputters, clearly put out. “You… you jerk you made me think it was going to be all crazy cool with your dramatic pausing and your dad’s whole thing .” She swats him on the arm which only causes him to laugh harder. “This is just…. Why would you parents build it in an old church if they were just gonna make it look so… plain ?”
Danny shrugs again and looks up to the stained glass window, then back at her. “Something to do with their research. Says it still counts as ‘sacred ground’ because it used to be used as a ‘house of the lord’ or something.” He says with an air of exasperation and a roll of his eyes. He turns, leading them up the stairs.
He lets the conversation lapse as they make their way to his room. Jazz’s door is closed, a neatly handwritten sign proclaiming ‘KEEP OUT’ in glittery pink gel pen taped carefully to the wood. His door is ajar, space stickers and other various monikers of his interests scattered around a sign his dad had made for him as a child, declaring the room as his.
He pushes the door open, allowing himself a moment to be thankful that he had had the foresight to pick up a little before he left for school this morning. He gestures to the bed at the center of the room, walking over to the TV perched on his dresser and searching for the remote.
“So…” Sam begins, plopping down in the desk chair beside his bed. “What does your house being ‘sacred ground’ have to do with your parents research anyways?”
He groans internally. He really wanted to put off this conversation, but after the disastrous first impression his dad had made it would probably be better to warn her sooner rather than later. He made a half-hearted effort to shuffle through the junk on his dresser before answering.
“Look. I don’t talk about it at school because it’s bad enough everyone thinks they’re running a weird cult—” He pauses to glare at Tucker where he’s seated on the bed. Tucker sticks out his tongue in response. “But my parents,the stuff they research…” He sighs. Blows the hair out of his eyes. “They keep telling Jazz and I it comes from demons of all things.”
He sees Sam perk up, curiosity piqued, and ponders whether that’s a good sign. “Not that Jazz and I believe them of course! I mean about the demons, not the energy stuff I mean—” He groans, running his hands through his hair. “I’m not explaining this very well.”
Tucker claps his hands together, drawing both their attention. “Don’t worry man, I got this.” He shifts around on the bed so he's facing Sam more fully.
Danny nods, allowing Tucker to take over as he continues his search for the remote.
“So the stuff Danny’s parents research is some weird new energy thing?” Tucker begins. “They call it Etherium. Crazy powerful stuff— not that I’ve got to see much of it even though I’ve been coming around here for years .” He hears the bed-springs creak as Tucker throws out his hands for emphasis.
There's a pause. “Well, there’s the toaster oven, but I wouldn’t recommend using that as an example…” Tucker rubs his chin as Danny turns, gritting his teeth and slashing his hand across his throat in a shush-ing gesture.
Sam glances between them and makes a face. “Toaster oven..?”
Tucker grins, ignoring him. “Yeah it’s supposedly run on the stuff. Wicked cool to watch but anything you make in it comes out burnt and smelling like rotten eggs. Also it has a tendency to catch fire…” Tucker shudders theatrically. “Nasty stuff.” He leans closer to Sam and puts up a hand, as though whispering. “But if you’re up to it later I think they still have it in the kitchen—”
“Please do not go messing with the toaster oven.” Danny deadpans. He walks over and motions for Sam to move so he can search his desk. She obliges, lips quirked in amusement.
He hears Tucker chuckle. “Whaaaat? We would never…” he trails off. “Anyways— yeah Danny’s parents seem to think it's going to be the next big energy source, but they also say it’s caustic or something?”
“They keep saying in its raw form it’s ‘corruptive’. Whatever that means.” Danny says. He searches his desk for a moment, grunting in triumph as he pulls out the remote.
"That's right. Gave me the impression that if we went down there it would 'warp our souls' or something." Tucker holds up his arms, wiggling his fingers in Sam's direction. He laughs. "Not that I've ever been able to try. They usually keep the basement locked up pretty tight."
Danny nods. “That’s also why they wear weird suits and make us wear charms.” He plucks at his own charm under his shirt. "They say it provides some protection against it."
Sam follows the motion of his hand and he can see the question in her eyes, so he fishes the charm out. It’s three looping points interconnected by a circle, gleaming in polished silver.
He colors a bit at her unimpressed look. “It’s a celtic knot. Triquetra. I didn’t want to pick a cross and the pentagram was way too goth-y for me." He rubs the back of his head sheepishly and allows the charm to drop back beneath his shirt.
"If it's that dangerous, why would they work with it at all?" Sam's eyes are bright and full of questions.
Danny shrugs. "Like Tucker said, it's pretty powerful. Even the toaster oven is fully run off of a drop of the stuff." He waves the remote and smiles. "But really, my parent's stuff isn't nearly as interesting as watching all three Dead Teacher movies back to back on a Friday night!" He spins and hits play on the remote, the menu for Dead Teacher I flickering onto the screen.
The change of subject is jarring and unsubtle, but Danny didn’t bring his friends over to talk about his weird parents.
He notices Sam open her mouth to argue, but instead closes it, slumping a bit in disappointment. He shoves down the guilt and pushes Tucker over so he can also claim a spot on the bed. He tries not to feel too hurt by it, he knew Sam would probably be interested in the demon stuff. It’s part of why he put off having her over for so long.
He pulls up the movie and presses play, allowing his thoughts to drift.
Tucker had lived down the street when his parents first bought the house and they had become fast friends in the way that young kids do. He had been there for half the weirdness that his parents job had inflicted on his life.
Sam, on the other hand, was his first new friend in a long time. He knew of her before high school, they were in the same grade and had some classes together, but their social circles had never really overlapped until she walked into homeroom freshman year with half her head shaved and clad head to toe in black.
Him and Tucker had quickly learned that the change in style had left her at odds with her previous social circle, and it hadn’t been long before her dry humor and quick wit had turned their duo into a trio. He knew with her interest in all that was ‘dark and spooky’ she would probably find the truth of his parents' research fascinating, but…
He glances over to where she’s sat, one leg curled under the other and the chair turned sideways so she could use the back as an armrest. He can’t see her whole face from this direction, mostly obscured as it is by her now-even hair.
Was it so bad that he wanted to have her get to know him first, without the truth of his parents' weird obsession to color her judgment?
He’s startled out of his thoughts by an elbow jamming him in the side. He looks over to Tucker with a glare, face heating as Tucker nods in Sam’s direction and wiggles his eyebrows. He quickly turns back to the movie, resolutely ignoring the muffled snort from his best friend.
He shakes his head and pushes thoughts of his parents and their weirdness out of his mind. Sam had already passed the biggest hurdle by surviving an ambush by his dad, so the rest of his planned horror movie marathon should be smooth sailing.