*Danny drops his gaze, expression shutting down. The moment is brief: horror, and 'if we cut off your hands now, do you think you'd wake up with them next week? don't have enough time to really get off the ground, and he's tapping into the Danny Fenton side of himself. It's a tell in its own right: 'Danny Fenton' is the crutch that doesn't have to worry about ghost fighting. Danny Fenton has the freedom to stop caring about his latest traumas, because if he starts caring he'll go insane.*

*Damian is trying to go against this game. He's demanding to see a wound that Danny's managed to hide so far, and Danny can't tell if he's hysterically pleased that someone recognizes something is very, very wrong, or terrified that he might actually talk about it. Czes was right: Danny wants to talk. He's equally right that Danny can't tell anyone if he wants to keep them safe.*

*Danny leaves heavily into his mental shield, swinging guilt and regret over one shoulder like grocery bags. Damian just confided this in him. Danny will confide back in him some other day, and he'll tell him even more to make up for his lies now.*

Dude...

I'm--really sorry about your mom, but--don't you think that was kind of the point I was making all along?

The technicians are strangers, and they've never really cared about us.