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When Dash thinks 'troubled teen' usually an image of someone like Samantha Manson pops into his mind. If only because parents usually think wearing black means they've gone to the dark side.

That was how The Manson's had convinced him to council their only daughter when she first enrolled to Casper High. Funny enough it was with her grandmothers aid and without her parents consent. And the moment he laid his eyes on her, purple lipstick, studded choker and steel toe boots and all he was almost convinced of the parents plight.

And then he talked to her. She was distrusting of authority figures, but she was intelligent, opinionated and knew what she wanted to do and was an avid supporter of seeking justice. There was nothing wrong with the girl. She just liked dark colors. And she preferred to be called Sam.

That was not a troubled child, he was sure.

The boy slumped in the over stuffed seat in front of him however...He looked like a troubled kid.

Danny Fenton was finally in his office after two weeks of avoiding his parents demands that he see the school councilor. It was the third week since the Fenton's enrolled into the high school and this was the first time the older man had actually seen the youngest son.

He was small in stature, the red hoodie he wore practically swallowed him whole. He slumped as if making himself appear as tiny as possible would make him disappear from the adults sight. His hair was in disarray, but Maddie Fenton assured it was always like that. The teenagers startling blue eyes never once looked up to acknowledge him.

Danny Fenton was closed off and tight liped and did not want to be in his office.

"So..." Dash did not miss the way slim shoulders flinched at the sound of his voice. It brought a concerned wrinkle in his brow as he eyed the kid like he was some kind of startled animal. "So..." he tried again with a sigh. "What made you finally decide to grace me with your presence Danie-"

"Don't call me Daniel, uh, please...Just Danny is fine." the young man interrupted with a fleeting glance towards the councilor. Dash shut his mouth for a moment before sitting back in his chair.

Skittish, he was skittish too.

"All right...what brought you here after two weeks, Danny?" he asked. Danny brought a small, pale hand to the back of his neck as he stared at the corner of his desk.

"Jazz...my sister said I have to do this...so, so my parents dont gets too worried..." He answered. His voice was so much clearer than when he heard in over the phone, it really did have that earnest tone about it.

"Do you want to talk about why your here then?"

"No, not really." he admitted with a quirk of his lips.

"Do you even know why you're her?"

Danny finally looked up at Dash with a cross look, his full lips thinned into a dissatisfied grimace.

"I'm not stupid, I understand what I've been putting my parents through Mr. Baxter. And I know they think I'm just screwing around and making trouble, but I could honestly care less about when they bring in some stranger to try and 'fix' me!" Danny snapped before standing, he was really short, probably only about 5"5 more or less.

"Look, I'll come to these stupid counseling sessions, but you can be damn sure I'm not going to be pouring my heart out to you anytime soon."

Dash tried to stand and grab hold of him, to stop him from going before the lunch period was over, but burning ice halted him in his advance as he flinched away from his large hand with a glare.

"I would appreciate it if you don't touch me either." the teenager hissed before picking up his bag and slamming to door shut behind him. Dash blinked up at the door, the glass pane still shaking from the force it took from being slammed. The man heaved a heavy sigh before plopping back down in his seat to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Well...that could have gone better.

Danny was defensive and fully aware of the grief he was giving his family. Dash could tell the boy was feeling remorse for his actions, but still, he continued to do whatever in was he was getting into.

Drugs? He couldn't be so sure, he didn't look to be strung out on something, but he had no proof he wasn't shooting up since the sleeves of that hoodie hid everything. He doubted a kid like him could get roped into some kind of gang related violence. Especially since Amity didn't really have any gangs to speak of.

Dash groaned in confusion, this didn't seem like the atypical troubled teen looking for attention. Especially since Danny Fenton looked like he wanted as little attention as he could get.

Something was up, he just knew it. And maybe it was worse than what even his parents feared.

Dash usually kept his distance around the students that are brought to him. He respects their personal space and usually lets them come and go as they please in an attempt to let them make their own choices.

With the Fentons' son, however, he found himself wandering the halls in the morning and during breaks to understand this strange boy with an aversion to touching and lack of cooperation.

It was not stalking...just supportively checking up on him without his knowledge.

Danny, apparently, made fast friends with Sam Manson and her friend Tucker Foley. In the short span that they had know him all three easily became inseparable. They often sat away from the crowds of students, sometimes with a talk, red haired girl a grade higher than them he realized was Danny's older sister Jazz.

Most of the time, Danny seemed fairly strung out and nervous until his friends or sister joined him. At which time Dash noticed they were the only ones that never had difficulty actually touching him.

And...he was a target for bulling. Dash actually had to break it up sometimes since more often than not it was the jock that were pushing the smaller boy around and the teachers let it slide. It let a sour taste in Dash's mouth to think that he was once one of those jocks whose attitudes were ignored.

When he saved Danny from the jocks was usually the only time he honestly looked up at him and thanked him honestly, if a little embarrassed.

From watching him, Dash learned Danny was also a very soft hearted person, ridiculously so. He saved a freaking kitten that was stuck in a tree for crying out loud. He helped people, was a smart kind when he actually went to class, and rambled on and on about space when the topic was brought up be someone. Dash was sure, even though he's never seen it, that Danny was the type to even help little old lady's cross the street or carry their groceries home when he lives in the opposite direction.

Dash didn't understand what sort of trouble could follow him, he was a god damn endearing character that Dash almost believed his parents were worrying over nothing. But then something would happen. A shift in Danny's expression when he looked out the window, like he caught the sight of something that made his blood run cold. His cell phone would ring at odd times and that usually foretold when he would skip a class or run out with the teacher yelling.

Dash didn't know where he was going and Danny never told him.

During their sessions he wouldn't bring them up no matter who bad he wanted to. Most of the time the two just sat in his office while Dash watched him fidget or do his homework. Usually, those days he would get a call and skip class, only to return later in the day and to his office he would curl up in the seat and just sit in silence, his head buried in his knees. Dash didn't try to touch his back or his shoulder at these times, his sensitivity to being touched always seemed to be at its worse during times like this.

Instead, when the frazzled teenager would burst, uninvited, into his office Dash would raise his brow and watch the kid curl up in the chair. After a while he would stand, close the door, then ask Danny if he wanted some hot chocolate.

He always asked for the packet that had the mini marshmallows.

They would sit in silence, Danny sipping his drink and Dash doing paperwork until the bell that signaled the end of the day rang. Danny would apologize and thank him for letting him stay then leave.

Leaving Dash to wonder what the fuck was happening to this ridiculously meek kid with a figurative heart of gold.