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The smell of instant noodles wafted through the apartment. It filled every corner of the one-room home, from the small kitchen area consisting of a stove, some cupboards, and the sink, to the two windows only showing the dark blue of night, reflections from the lid inside staring back in the glass. The smell would definitely stay in the mostly carpeted floor for a few more days, no matter what Jazz did and experience taught her that the textile of her old lavender armchair in the corner or the duffets over her bed by the window wouldn’t fare much better. But there were far worse fates than that.
Living through one of these worse fates was her younger brother, huddled on the floor. He had long since abandoned the offered armchair, as he always had even when they were little, to huddle on the floor in front of it. Jazz’ fluffiest blanket was flung around his shoulders, making his hunched form seem even smaller. It was a testament to how awful Danny must be feeling that he had barely put up a fight when Jazz had done her best to wrap him up in it. Just as he had not refused when Jazz pressed a steaming hot cup of her favorite tea into his palms. The cup was still there, with the liquid having gone cold a long while ago. Danny didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were glued to Jazz small TV rerunning the kinds of old cartoons and sitcoms that only aired in the deadest of dead hours of the night. The way her little brother’s eyes were unfocused Jazz wasn’t even sure if he could tell her what was on if she asked. But it didn’t really matter. It was the white noise it produced that was important, that made Jazz’ own jitters and rampant thoughts of plans and what ifs quiet down just a little.
Jazz busied herself with the noodles, impatiently stirring the contents of the two styrofoam cups around. One of her favorite’s, one of Danny’s. There were always some in her cupboard, just in case. The girl took a sip out of her own cup of tea, the camomile still not doing much to soothe, even on the third cup. Guess there were some situations even good tea couldn’t fix. Go figure.
Jazz stifled a quiet sigh, deciding that the noodles just had to be ready and carrying the cups over to the small blanket nest on the floor where her brother was absentmindedly fiddling with the blanket. The girl could see a small sheen of frost on the textile form and retreat where his fingers touched, seemingly in sporadic patterns. She wasn’t sure if Danny was aware, but decided it wasn’t too important.
“Here”. Danny blinked owlishly, as if waking from a nap with his eyes open as she placed the steaming cup of noodle soup in front of him on the carpet, fork sticking out.
“Thanks” he commented, while Jazz sat down next to him, crossing her legs and her own late dinner in hand. Or maybe it was early breakfast. Jazz gently bumped her shoulder into him, careful not to startle him.
“You better eat up.” She tried at her best overbearing older sister voice. At this point it wasn’t even much of an act. Which Danny normally relentlessly teased her about. “I don’t know when you last ate but knowing you it was probably too long ago and too little.” She raised her own cup, deliberately raising a clump of noodles and blowing on it, before inhaling it. Even though her favorite noodles tasted like ash right now, her stomach uneasy. But knowing Danny, he really did need this meal badly and would probably just go right back to inner panic mode if she didn’t join him. It worked, Danny joining her, slower than his usual inhalation of food but still it was something. A little smirk even sparked at her nagging, though it seemed more like a grimace on Danny’s face. Though Jazz would take it.
They both sat there for some time like that, eyes and ears following the banter on the TV while their minds were somewhere entirely different. Jazz’ cup was about halfway done when her brother let out a slow sign. It sounded so very tired.
“Jazz, I see you looking. Come on, spit it out.” He leaned back against the armchair, the noodles cradled in his lap. His light blue eyes seemed duller than normal, as if someone had turned down a dimmer to that vibrant spark. “I know you want to ask.”
Jazz shifted a bit, turning towards him and chewing on her own words. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Danny gave her that deadpan look she’d seen a thousand times, way more familiar than the distant defeatedness that had been there before. Though she had grown plenty familiar with that side of her brother in the past years too. “Come on, Jazz. I know it must eat you up inside.”
He cocked his head sardonically. “Besides, it’s not like I can avoid it forever.”
Jazz frowned, fingernails denting styrofoam under her hands as she fixed her brother in her gaze. The one that said ‘I’m the psychology student here and you better take care of yourself right now or I will make you’.
“You can sleep first, if you want to.” She gestured to her bed and the knick-knacks underneath it. “I’ve got that air mattress for a reason, you know. I’ll even let you have Bearberd for the night.” She waved to her beloved stuffed bear on her dresser, fixing her brother with mock sternness. “And you know I don’t do that lightly. You better feel honored.”
Danny rolled his eyes, a bit more liveliness bleeding into him at the pattern of their familiar banter. “I’m not a child, you know.”
“You are and I don’t care.”
“I’m 16 and you are too!”
“I’m a legal adult.” Jazz harrumphed with the superiority only an older sibling possessed. “And I’m in college and have my own place. And you are tired, so you will better sleep here whether you like it or not.”
The spunk fled from Danny’s face as quickly as it had appeared, reality visibly settling in once more. He looked down into his food, as if it would hold the answers to the universe. “You know I can’t.” It was barely more than a mumble. “Mom and Dad will be here in the morning at the latest. It’s not that far to drive. I don’t think I could fall asleep waiting for that, even if I tried.”
Jazz’ frown deepened. “They won’t get in.”
If possible, Danny’s expression became even stormier. “Thanks for trying, but they won’t care if you’ll let them in or not, Jazz. And then they’ll drag me back, the’ll drag be back home and they’ll ask questions and I don’t even want to know what else they’ll do now that they know and oh god they won’t let me leave not again they’ll rip me apart-”
“No” Jazz cut in. The force of it was enough to break Danny out of his spiral, even for just a second, startled gaze flipping up to find his sister’s sea blue eyes. The intensity was nothing new, heck it could even be considered a Fenton family trait, but the cold fury was something Danny hadn’t seen often on his sister. Not when he ripped Bearberd in two in a tantrum-fueled argument when they were little, not at ghosts when they went after her and Danny was unable to help, not even when Plasmius infused her own blood with nanobots to make the Fenton children follow his will. He had seen it, once or twice though, when a playground bully heckled Danny for having crazy parents who believed in something no one thought existed, not back then. When Danny was too weak to fight back against the powerhouse of the week and his sister, his only human sister, would face them with only a too weak ectoblaster and protective anger to her name. Danny knew the sharp steel in her eyes was not directed at him, yet it was still strange on his sister’s normally bubbly and caring face. It always seemed to fit their parents’ better.
“I meant it” Jazz said with the certainty of someone saying the sky was blue. “I meant it when I said Mom and Dad wouldn’t get in.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm some of the tremors that wanted to slip into her voice at the decisions she had made. “I alerted campus security to stop and divert them if they see them on the premises. And you can’t get in here without a key card. And July downstairs also knows not to let them in under any circumstances.”
In fact, the whole RA team for her building knew to watch out. As did some of Jazz’ friends who also lived on campus. Jazz had been pretty busy once she bundled a nearly catatonic Danny up after his long, panic driven flight. A whispered “they know. They found out” was all she needed to get her suspicions confirmed and stepped out of her apartment into the hallway to think. And to act. It had been the middle of the night, but for once choosing to live on her college’s campus proved to be useful.
Her steps had echoed in muffled thumps on the rough carpet of the hallway as she walked towards the front desk of her residence hall. Eyes glued to her phone, typing strings of messages to friends, to RAs that she knew weren’t on duty. Making a quick call to a disgruntled but cooperative campus security officer. All the while, she ignored the silent pings of messages from the two family members that Jazz cared least about right now. Only a quick swipe to block them was all she bothered doing. July had nodded along vehemently as Jazz gave her the quick story she had planned out a long time ago. The RA was in one of Jazz classes and they had talked enough in the past for the girl to already know the rough situation of Jazz’ home life and everything that entailed.
“I’ll be on the look-out,” July had said unusually serious. Bright pink nails flitted across her own phone with practiced ease. “I’ll let people in the group chat know to not let anyone who’s not a student in. It’s policy anyways, but ya know.” A muttered “it’s Alisha’s stepdad all over again” that Jazz was probably not supposed to hear later, the RA looked back up and put her phone aside.
“Anyways.” She had fixed Jazz with big eyes. “You need anything, blankets, toiletries. Oh, does your brother need a toothbrush or something? I think I might have an extra somewhere.”
Jazz was a bit dazed by the fountain of words spewing from a girl who, frankly, Jazz had thought of as a nice acquaintance at most. She’d expected a bit of support, from the poking questions and awkward explanations of her family and growing up that had come up in the past. Someone who would do their job if need be. The extent of compassion on the other girl’s face caught Jazz off guard and sent her tired, panicked brain into overtime for a second as fuzzy relief spread in her Jazz. A certainty. She wouldn’t be alone in this. Danny and her wouldn’t be alone.
But Danny didn’t need to know all that. What was important was to let him know that he was safe and that Jazz would rather fight a horde of ghosts and their stupid, thick-skulled parents and the world before she let anyone get to the one place she had carefully curated as her safe space for the past few years. From picking a college several hours away from Amity, from talking to her friends and support on campus about this, just in case it ever happened. Jazz hated when her anxious emergency plans came to fruition.
In the here and now, she reached out, gripping Danny’s hand that had fallen from his cup to the blanket beneath. It was unnaturally cold to the touch, as always. It was Danny’s. She squeezed it, ever so gently. “You’re safe here. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
Danny shook his head, still not looking at her. “Nowhere’s safe, Jazz.” It broke her heart how certain he sounded.
“If mom and dad don’t get to me, and we both know they can and will break doors, then the ghosts will find me to cause havoc.”
His lip quivered, tears streaming under dark bangs into his lap, barely missing making a salty addition to his soup. “I can’t stay here, Jazz. If not for me, it’s not safe for you. Trouble finds me, it always does. And the ghosts will find me and this isn’t Amity, people don’t KNOW how to react when a ghost attacks and they’ll get hurt and you’ll get hurt and it will a-all-” a hiccup. An embarrassed arm flew up to rub at his eyes. “It will all be my fault. It always is.”
Any additional words that might have come were pressed out of him with all the air as his sister hugged him. Strong, like the Jack-o-ninetail on the highest setting. Danny buried his face in her shoulder, their meal forgotten by both on the floor at their side. Shaky, slow, like they weren’t a part of him, Danny’s arms found their way to return his sister’s hug. Gone was the teenager who might have been embarrassed at the sisterly affection. It all seemed so small compared to reality. Compared to the crushing feeling of loss and helplessness, of the world having fallen apart and not even being able to see where the pieces had landed.
It was all just too much. So he cried. And he breathed. And he tried to listen to the quiet hum of his core and the heart beating beside it. And his sister hugged him as if he would fade away as soon as she let go.
Eventually she did. It took a lot of willpower, but tiredness was catching up to both of them and the tears were just a numb background noise by then, like the tinny laughter and sounds echoing quietly from the TV. Danny sniffled noisily, embarrassment catching up to him at last, dragging his shoulders down even more. Jazz reached over to one of the tissue boxes hiding in the nooks and crannies of her apartment. She held it out for him, the motion reminding Jazz uncannily of all the many times they had been sitting like this in the past. Different circumstances, yet not that different. When their time was spent less and less bickering and living in their own worlds, both drifting apart as they didn’t have to rely on each other that much anymore. They might have continued like that if nothing happened. They might have grown closer again eventually. Jazz would never know. The portal had happened. Ghosts were real and, as her world was already turned upside down, the revelation that her brother was way more entangled in all of that than she would have ever thought soon followed. Slowly but steadily, the two teenagers dealing with all the teenage drama one would expect had taken a backseat. And more and more, they were back to surviving. Again. Only this time it wasn’t a lack of food being made, attention paid, or unsafe lab equipment lying around. Though those had very much still been around and started that whole mess to begin with.
More and more days were disturbed by ghosts causing havoc in their everyday lives. Moreso for Danny than for anyone else in Amity Park. And Jazz was there, as were Danny’s friends, when things went sideways. When he needed to be picked up because his body hurt too much. When they had to distract their parents to quietly dispose of the latest weapon that would risk her brother’s safety. And when nightmares woke Danny up at night in a cold sweat or when life simply was too much. She was there. And in the quiet of her room, it was safe to talk. To cry. To worry about what might have happened and what did. About the future. In some ways, this wasn’t a new situation at all. And Jazz had long since quietly decided that sometimes she needed to hug her brother. For his sake and for her own. Even though he still was her annoying, over energetic, weird little brother.
Danny’s mind seemed to go along a similar tangent as the familiar scene startled a chuckle out of him. It sounded like a rusty engine coming from his stuffy throat, yet it was the best sound Jazz had heard in a while.
“You’re such a therapist, you know that, Jazz? Having tissues lying around everywhere.”
Jazz stuck out her tongue, the stone in her chest loosening just a little bit. “That’s just what you do when you actually have an organized room. You wouldn’t know.”
Her brother blew into one of the tissues, Jazz already having her trashcan ready. “Low blow, sis. It’s an organized chaos and you know it.”
Jazz smiled, just a bit. “As if.”
When Jazz and Danny had been little, they didn’t have much. Parents everyone thought crazy, parents who boasted at every opportunity about their ‘research’, scaring away most sane people who might have looked at the family twice if they had been just a bit more normal. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Either way, for as long as Jazz could remember it had been the two of them. Even when their parents managed to contaminate the food again, hunting down too alive leftovers. Or simply when they would be so entranced by their latest project that dinnertime would just fly by them. And Jazz and Danny would be waiting.
In the beginning Jazz would try to fetch them. Later she didn’t bother. It would only make a mumbled “we’ll be there in a second, honey” of a difference. And no action would be taken either way. So, between the two children and the hazards of the stove and a simple lack of knowing how to get from ingredient to finished dinner, instant noodles soon became a common lunch, dinner, and sometimes breakfast when the cereal ran dry. Jazz couldn’t count the times she had been sitting with her brother, just like this. One space documentary or another running with endless noise while the steam wafted through the air.
She picked her forgotten instant noodles back up, fork fishing for the last noodles while Danny worked on regaining at least some composure. In these moments, with the night outside and just the two of them, it seemed like the rest of the world did not exist. Their own little bubble, safe from anything that could harm them. How easy it would be to just let the lightness carry on, to forget just for a bit longer. But the therapist in Jazz, the part she aspired so much to be one day, mature and being able to help without this overarching cloud of despair, reminded her that things weren’t so simple. And if she left their conversation as it was, Danny wouldn’t trust this sense of safety. And as soon as calm settled in and his mind got back to spinning in circles, he would do something stupid. Jazz knew her brother and his paranoia. Not like it could really be called that when it was founded though.
“Look, our parents-” how to put this diplomatically “-can be rash and don’t take no for an answer. But even they have to obey laws. And believe it or not, our situation isn’t that special.”
Danny raised an incredulous eyebrow at her. “You mean having your ghost hunter parents find out their son is a half ghost, and having their son flying over state lines to his sister’s college dorm to hide from their insane flip out at the revelation.”
Jazz crossed her arms, deadpanning. “Ok, maybe our situation specifically is unique. But what I mean is that situations LIKE it happen all the time. Homes not being safe, parents being weird and sometimes even dangerous. Having to get out and get your distance.”
Jazz lips formed a thin line. “Tons of young people live around here, Danny. From all kinds of backgrounds. Having an environment away from their family, often for the first time. And you know, we talk in our classes. It’s psychology, you get curious about people. Trust me, it’s not rare. Not rare at all, sadly. The people around here know how to handle that kinda stuff is what I’m saying. Mom and dad won’t be the first parents trying to force their way into their child’s dorm. They probably won’t be the last. And honestly, I will call the police on them if it’s what’s necessary for protecting you.”
Danny absentmindedly poked at his soup, brows knitting together. “Mom and dad won’t like that.”
Jazz took a breath, refusing to let her brother see the hurt, the heartbreak inside. “Well, I’m beyond caring what they think.”
And it was true. Jazz had always been the golden child, the brilliant daughter her parents wanted. In those regards, she had it easier than Danny who never seemed to quite measure up to the expectation, even before the accident. Always in the shadow, in competition with his smart older sister. But that limelight had only lasted until some months into the mass appearance of ghosts after the portal. And it had steadily fallen apart whenever Jazz talked about ghosts with her parents. Which, in her family, was nearly all the time, no matter how much Jazz tried to steer conversations towards safer topics. Her parents had been benevolent at first. In their eyes, their daughter was enthusiastic, but foolish. Treating ghosts like living, thinking beings. They were dead, just globs of ectoplasm simulating intelligent life in a twisted, malicious mirror version. Ghosts had no psyche to speak of except malintent. They could not understand morale, they could not feel pain. Or so her parents would argue, again and again. And over time, Jazz’ tolerance for the debate that always seemed to go the same way grew thin. And so did their relationship. Though it still hurt, drawing a clear line like that. But like she said, if that was what needed to be done to keep Danny safe, there was no decision to be made at all.
“They’ll say I’m overshadowed.” Danny argued, with the resignation of a boy reciting his death sentence. “They’ll say I’m weak, diseased. That it is for my own good.” And those did not sound like vague fears at all. Jazz bit her lip.
“I take it they didn’t take the revelation too well?”
Danny shook his head, stopped mid-shake. Fiddling with his fork again.
“They could have taken it worse.” He seemed to silently wince at his own statement. Jazz couldn’t blame him, she was less than impressed. “I mean, they asked questions. They didn’t just start shooting or anything.” He chewed on his cheek.
“But they didn’t take it well either” Jazz supplied. Danny nodded mutely.
Jazz let out a puff of breath. “Well, this isn’t Amity. Just snatching people up, even your family as ghost hunters on the basis of overshadowing won’t cut it.”
She waited until he raised his gaze to meet hers, putting all the sincerity and compassion she felt into her words. “I won’t let them take you, Danny. I promise.”
And for the first time, through dizzy tiredness and resigned denial, her words seemed to actually reach him. Jazz felt that weary tiredness too, felt it in her bones as a bit of tension rushed out of her shoulders. One doubt down, one more to go before they both could fall into well-deserved sleep.
“As for the ghosts”, Jazz went on, taking a sip of her soup, “You forget that you have a bunch of very well equipped friends and allies back in Amity. They’ll survive, at least for a while. And as for here, you forget I’m a Fenton too.” She gave him a cocky smirk that was eerily reminiscent of the one he used as Phantom so often. “You can bet that I’ve squirreled away more than enough ectoweapons from Mom and Dad to equip half the block. Plus the stuff they gave me themselves.”
She glanced around her space a bit sheepishly. “Seriously though, be careful opening the cabinets over there. And the boxes under my bed. I’m FAIRLY sure I’ve fixed all the ones likely to explode, but you know dad’s wiring can be…”
Her brother smirked. “Explosive? Sensitive? Complete and utter chaos?”
Jazz grinned. “All of the above.”
They didn’t have much growing up. But Jazz and Danny had each other, and hugs, and whispered words, and instant noodles.