First fic, I suppose. I'll try to be as decent as I can...XP

Disclaimer: I am a seventeen year old female and I most certainly do not own DP and am not making profit off it. :I Honestly, would I be sitting here writing fanfics of it if that were the case?

I guess this particular story takes place in the span between My Brother's Keeper and The Ultimate Enemy. :P

Anyway, enjoy

He came home late, again.

Missing his curfew was almost coming as a regular occurrence these days. Often times these tardies would come with a new bruise or cut somewhere, and a typical excuse on top of that.

I fell off my scooter.

Bullies at school did it.

I ran into a pole.

It was an accident, it doesn't matter.

Whatever the real reason, his parents were unaware yet concerned about it. A teenage boy coming home past curfew most nights, usually injured in some way, was something to be taken seriously. However, not all of the other Fentons were unknowing of these regular occurrences. And while Jazz knew what was keeping her brother Danny away from home and what was causing these injuries, she worried just as much as their parents did.

It had been maybe a month, give or take a few weeks, since Jazz first found out about Danny's ghost half. She had felt compelled to let him know that she found, but ultimately decided to let him tell her when he was ready. She expected to wait a while, knowing that that sort information hovering around a family with two raving ghost hunters was risky, especially knowing that Danny still considered her a bigmouth with information.

So Jazz would just secretly keep a watchful eye on him. She tried her best to help cover for his absences and the like, whether he appreciated it or not. She was his older sister, after all. She felt obligated to be protective over him, especially with something as big of a deal as this.

...

"You're late again, young man!"

Jazz looked up from her magazine, eyeing her parents as they confronted her scrawny teenage brother. He looked defeated, as if he was already anticipating this confrontation; it would have been surprising if he wasn't, considering the pattern of his arrival times at home. Jazz glanced sideways at the ghost-shaped clock hanging on the wall, hands indicating it was twenty past ten.

She looked back toward Danny, biting her lip as she noticed a small, bright red line crossed over his left cheek. It wasn't bleeding at that moment, but it looked like it had been before. Which ghost gave that to you? She wondered silently, glad that at least that seemed like the full extent of tonight's injuries. Jazz heard their parents ask him about the scratch, to which the boy evaded the question by mentioning tripping over a break in the sidewalk and landing on something. It was a rather unfitting excuse this time, the scratch looked like the work of a blade, or a claw, and falling on something probably wouldn't have left such a neatly straight line.

Nevertheless, her parents didn't press about the wound, but went into questioning him about his almost daily lateness home, and that it was becoming rather tiresome.

Danny's eyes were downcast tiredly during the questioning, to which he only gave a weak shrug in reply, "I don't know...I just...lost track of time..." Jazz heard him murmur under his breath, and adding, "Can't we just talk about this tomorrow...I had a long day..."

The elder sister eyed him curiously from her seat on the couch. He looked rather disheveled tonight, his raven hair unkempt and shading over his tired blue eyes. His posture was almost slouched, obviously in exhaustion, and his arms hung limply by his side. Jazz considered rising from the couch to step in if their parents continued to keep him there, sensing his need to be left alone. However, Jack and Maddie reluctantly let him go, Maddie adding that they would continue this conversation in the morning as the fourteen-year-old departed upstairs. Jazz's eyes strayed back down to her magazine, but didn't really register the article she was attempting to read. I think I'll check on him in a few minutes...she thought, staring indifferently at the pictures in the magazine.

She heard her mother speaking in the background, asking what on earth could be so important that it was keeping Danny away from home past curfew. Then Jack replied an eager announcement of the invention of something called the Fenton Ghost Liquidizer, designed to suck in ghosts and shred them down to ectoplasmic residue...

At this point Jazz sighed and moved upstairs, not much in the mood to watch another Fenton invention demonstration...and probably failure. She glanced back a last time to see her parents excitedly gathering around for a trial of the new machine, and was up the stairs quickly.

She found herself in front of Danny's bedroom door before long, however, tightly shut and silent on the other side. The lights appeared to be turned off as well, evident by the lack of light shining from underneath the door. Deciding while she was here to use this time to see if he was alright, or even there at all. He could have gone out for more ghost hunting, perhaps, making it look like he was only asleep in his room. Grabbing the doorknob and twisting, Jazz let herself in as silently as she could, gazing about the darkened room. She spotted her brother's figure in the bed, breathing a small sigh of relief that he really was here and not out fighting some wraith.

She approached the bedside, giving the sleeping form a pitied look. Danny was laying heavily in bed, motionless, as if he had just fallen into it and retained the position upon landing. He hadn't even changed out of his school clothes, save for kicking off his shoes before collapsing into bed. Jazz glanced around, spotting his computer. The monitor was black and had no indication of ever being powered on that night. His backpack had been tossed into a corner, carelessly, the homework for the night most likely forgotten.

Jazz sighed, tugging the covers out from under his body gently and replacing them over him, careful not to wake him. He didn't move, save for a very slight fluttering of his eyes at the movement. Jazz's hands absently rested on his covered arm, her eyes gazing sympathetically at the red mark on his cheek from whatever battle he had been that night. Did he manage to catch the ghost though? Hopefully. Jazz looked toward his backpack, considering going over and retrieving the thermos that was probably inside, but decided to leave it be for now.

Sighing, she turned back to look down on her little brother, "Hard work, huh?" she whispered, as if she were holding a conversation with the sleeping boy, "Being a kid is already hard enough, I wish there was a way for people to understand this...fighting ghosts..." Her hand rested on an uncovered part of his arm, and she frowned, noticing how heat suddenly blazed against her hand. Jazz moved it away, tentatively resting it on Danny's forehead.

She tensed at the blaze she received there, and she pulled her hand away, staring down at Danny sorrowfully. Did you work yourself too hard, little brother? she thought, just as Danny suddenly shifted on the bed with a small sound. He rolled to his side, fingers clutching the bedsheets and curling into fists. His brow creased, a frown coming to his face, "Can't you...just...stay in the stupid...Ghost Zone...?" he murmured, fidgeting in his sleep a little before stilling. Probably still fighting those battles in his sleep, Jazz supposed, and shifted to move toward the door.

No wonder he looked so wrung out earlier...he must have been logging major hours dedicated to capturing runaway ghosts and perhaps the sheer stress of it all on top of an already stressful average life must have taken its toll on his health. Either way, Jazz wasn't going to let him go to school tomorrow. Amity Park's self-proclaimed protector needed at least a day off, especially when he was ill. Sighing, Jazz retired from the bedroom, closing the door silently behind her and turning in the direction of her own room.

The next day seemed to come too fast for Danny. Last night's sleep felt more like a blink than an actual rest, and the thought of another dayof late-night ghost-chasing after a long day at high school was almost dizzying. The boy rose into a sitting position with a groan, joints aching stubbornly and head throbbing annoyingly. He pushed some of his black hair out of his face, blinking the room into focus.

Crap, the lecture.

Danny growled under his breath at the thought of that unfinished lecture he cut short last night about missing curfew yet again. He knew he was definitely not in the mood for it, on top of everything else that was probably waiting in anticipation in the extent of this day. What I wouldn't give to just go back to sleep for the next few weeks...

He swung out of bed, getting to his feet and lurching sideways as he suddenly lost his balance to the headache plaguing his skull. He found the wall and regained his feet, noticing morosely that he was still in his outfit from the previous day. With a sigh, he crossed the room toward his backpack and knelt down to retrieve the thermos that still held the catch from last night: A few wayward ghouls, the Box Ghost (again!), and Skulker, who put up the longest fight out of the total ghosts and managed to scrape him at a glancing blow before getting sucked in. And all in time for Valerie to soar in out of nowhere and nearly blast him to smithereens. A regular day, basically.

Danny sighed, rubbing his head tenderly at the pain. His whole body felt like it was weighed down, aching and sapped of all strength, like he had just gotten out of the battle of his life. Barely. His head felt like a persistent nova blast behind his eyes, escalating with each movement of his head, along with an overall groggy feeling. He rose back to his feet, swamped with another feeling of weakness and light-headedness. Slowly, he made his way back toward his bed to sit down for a moment, believing it might just be from the rather disruptive sleep he had the previous night. He'd dreamt of more ghosts coming to attack him, and more trying to escape. There was no hope for a break, at the very least, not even in sleep!

Danny didn't expect for one of his legs to suddenly give out on the way, another weak feeling pulling him to the floor. With an irritated growl, the boy simply sat on the floor, trembling, and leaned his back into the wall. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on it, feeling a slight feeling of vertigo as he tried to relax. Ugh, don't let me be sick. I can't get sick. I can't afford it...he thought miserably, shutting his tired eyes for a moment.

A sudden knock at the door startled him, and before he could speak the door flew open, heralding Jazz, "Morning Danny!" she mewled with a perky tone, before she caught sight of him and frowned grimly.

Danny grimaced, rubbing his head again as her loud voice struck a bolt of pain through his temples. He rose his head a little, glaring at her, "Can't a guy get any privacy in the morning? I could've been dressing for all you know!" he growled, hoping that the brief rest gave him back enough strength to saunter casually out of the room and away from his overly peppy sister.

Jazz didn't reply, but drew closer to Danny, concern etched on her face, "Are you alright? I...came in to see if you were awake yet. I was gonna tell you not to go to school today."

Danny rolled his blue eyes at her, shakily and slowly regaining his feet as his limbs achingly protested, "Why wouldn't I?" he asked, cursing inwardly as pain roiled angrily in his skull.

"You're sick, Danny. Don't try and tell me you're not." Jazz said sternly, "Whatever business you've been seeing to past curfew is obviously stressing your health, therefore you're not going anywhere or doing anything today."

Danny scoffed, "What I do outside school is none of your business, Jazz." he said, trying to make his way past her and toward the entrance. He found himself tripping over himself and ungracefully hitting the floor, a bit heavily than intended. It certainly didn't help his case of trying to seem healthy enough to get back into his regular schedule. Jazz gave a startled noise as she saw him trip, and immediately rushed over to help him up. Danny shrugged her off, trying to regain his feet but hopelessly falling back to his knees. Why am I so weak now?! he thought with exasperation, rubbing his pained head again.

Sighing in defeat, Danny let Jazz help him up and guide him back to his bed, "Alright, Jazz..." he huffed tiredly, "I'll stay home. Happy now?"

Jazz didn't reply, but gave him a small smile. She knelt down to eye level with him, a sympathetic yet concerned expression on her face, "Now..." she said, "Where does it hurt?"

Danny remembered a time, years back, where a younger Jazz asked his younger self the same thing, about the same time in the morning, before they were due at their elementary school. He instantly regretted his sour attitude earlier in response to Jazz's kindly tone. Heaving another sigh, Danny lowered his gaze, "Everything, really..." he murmured, absently tugging at the bedsheets.

Jazz lifted one of her hands, placing it gently on Danny's forehead. He flinched slightly at her touch, and watched with dismay as her expression fell and became grim. He already knew he was feverish that morning, but he wasn't exactly sure how bad it was. Jazz's expression was somewhat worrying.

She lowered her hand, biting her lip and turning her head toward the bedroom door, "I'll...I'll go tell mom and dad you're sick and staying home today. Why don't you change out of those clothes?" she said, rising to her feet and exiting the room quietly, closing the door behind her.

Danny watched her go, his form deflating a little under the exhaustion. He unsteadily rose to his feet, and made his way to his closet. Once he had changed into sleepwear, he resumed his spot on the bed and laid down, stretching out a moment before relaxing and fixing an absent gaze on the ceiling. I guess Tucker and Sam get to take over the ghost-hunting tonight. he thought, turning his head toward his window. Blinking as the light aggravated his headache, he turned away, sighing, If I need to, though, there's nothing stopping me from going ghost and doing my job like I should be doing. He thought stubbornly. After all, he was more or less the sole protector of Amity Park against evil spirits, despite that he got little to no appreciation for it, outside of his friends anyway.

He heard Jazz re-enter his room with a thermometer, looking a bit on edge all of a sudden, "Ugh, I had to convince Mom and Dad to keep their freakish ghost inventions away from you when I told them..." she grumbled, shooting another glance over her shoulder at the doorway entrance. She handed the thermometer to Danny, who placed it in his mouth with another sigh.

After a few seconds, a loud pounding of feet on stairs sounded, with their parents barreling into the vicinity, wielding some ghost devices that made Jazz grimace at the sight of them. Danny stiffened, always a bit more on edge around these ghost devices, as they often managed to detect his ghost side. Even though they would be passed over as defective if they did that, it still unnerved him.

"Don't worry son!" Jack proclaimed, holding up his latest creation that had somehow not blown up yet, "If there's a ghost around here that's plaguing you it's getting blown sky-high!"

Jazz growled in frustration, "Do you guys mind? Obviously all this ghost hunting nonsense is stressing him out even more than his regular sad, pathetic life! Get that stuff out of here and leave Danny in peace like I said already!" she cried, urging the two ghost hunters out of the room.

"Awh, all right." Jack said, disappointed, "But if I get even the faintest sense of a ghost around here I'll...!"

Jazz already slammed the door on his sentence, cutting off his threat, "We'll be fine, thanks!" she hissed, turning around toward Danny and regaining a calmer composure.

Danny removed the then-beeping thermometer from his mouth, and raised a brow at his sister, "'Sad, pathetic life'?" he echoed, to which Jazz only shrugged indifferently. She took the thermometer device, grimacing as she read the digital numbers as 100.7.

"Not good," she sighed, "it's 100.7. I'll get some water," she said, turning back toward the door. Danny yawned and eased back into his pillow, tugging up the blankets around him and curling up on his side as Jazz hurried out.

100.7. Now what's that for a ghost? Danny thought with worry. Ever since he became a halfa, he believed his normal body temperature must have become lower than the average human's, although he didn't really know exactly what the number would be, unsure if a regular thermometer would measure back enough degrees before simply stating LOW as the temperature. A temperature of over 98 degrees was probably bad news-no, it was bad news. 98 would have already been too hot for a ghost, probably too hot for a half-ghost too. Sighing, Danny pulled the blankets tighter around him, trying to push his concern down. He was still functioning, after all, and he supposed he shouldn't worry over the blanks in ghost information that he couldn't do anything about, at the moment. He decided to change his train of thought.

When was the last time Jazz tended to him? Was it really that last time back when they were young children? It had been years, and re-enacting a similar scene felt more awkward and strange this time around than the last. Any other times in the past he was mostly just left to himself, save for the outbursts of his parents trying to scan for any 'ghost bacteria' that could have infected him. He never really considered Jazz as close as she seemed to be acting today...or recently...He knew they had forged a strong sibling relationship as children, but eventually grew apart into more of a minimal tolerance of the other-at least in Danny's case, he supposed.

Danny felt his eyelids falling as the need for sleep crept up on him. He let them shut, embracing the darkness that enveloped his mind and sight.

Finally, some sleep.

Jazz had started climbing the stairs, glass of ice water in hand before she realized that she should probably tell Sam and Tucker that Danny wasn't going to show up for school that day, or for ghost hunting. She fetched her cell phone, dialing Sam's number. She leaned against the stair railing as the receiver buzzed on the other end, before a voice responded, "Hello?"

"Sam? It's Jazz."

"Jazz?" the voice sounded somewhat confused, "How'd you...get my number?"

"Nevermind, I just wanted to let you know that Danny's sick and won't be showing up for school, so could you maybe bring him his homework? And handle some of his other things too?" Jazz tried to be as subtle as possible with her implication of the two friends having to take over ghost-hunting duties, as she knew they were involved in her little brother's secret life and she herself wasn't supposed to know any of it.

"He's sick? Is he alright?" Sam's worried voice replied.

"Uh, yeah. He probably just needs to sleep it off..." Jazz said, "You can see him after school, I guess..."

"Alright...well we'll handle things for him at school. See you later I guess." Sam replied, before hanging up. Jazz put away the phone and continued up the stairs, up to Danny's room. She knocked on the door as a warning before she let herself in.

She saw Danny curled up in a nest of bedsheets on his bed, probably finally getting the sleep he needed. Jazz frowned, wishing she had at least caught him awake for a moment to let him drink and hydrate himself, but she supposed it could wait until after his sleep. Quietly, she moved forward to set down the water glass on the bedside table before she noticed Danny's body was trembling quite noticeably.

Alarm rising in her chest, Jazz bent over his body, touching his shoulder gently, "D-Danny? You alright?" she whispered, giving him a small shake.

Suddenly the boy cried out, swiping once at her hand and turning away, "G-get away!" he cried in his sleep, clutching a handful of the blankets in a deathgrip.

Nightmares? Jazz wondered, watching her brother shiver almost fearfully where he lay. She looked nervously at the doorway, hoping his episode wouldn't draw in their parents, who would probably assume this was more paranormal activity in the works and blast him with some ghost-ridding device or something.

She lowered over Danny's body again, shaking him slightly and calling out to him again. Danny recoiled from her touch, crushing the sheet fabric in his hand, "You c-can't take them...get away from me...!" he hissed painfully, still shaking. B-but his fever is only 100 degrees...that can't be high enough for delirium can it? Jazz thought worriedly, staring helplessly at her ailing brother, Ahh wait, half-ghost...if he's half-ghost, wouldn't that make it worse for him than a regular human? 100 degrees...she looked around helplessly, trying not to be frightened by her brother's crying and shaking at whatever nightmares were plaguing him. She almost considered running to their parents for help, hopefully none that involve anti-ghost blasters or extractors or the like...but it would probably come with it anyway. Jazz was on her own.

"S-st-stop hurting them..!" Danny groaned, and Jazz saw tears escaping and running from his closed eyes. He's really scared, by whatever he's dreaming of...how do I snap him out of it?! she tried calling to him again and again, only to receive no coherent response or even an indication that he'd even heard her. Beginning to cross the border into panic, Jazz's voice rose in desperation, her own hands shaking as her brother writhed fearfully on the bed,

"Danny please wake up!"

No reply.

In an act of panic, Jazz spotted the water glass she had brought up, and without much thought, emptied its contents right into her brother's sleeping form.

Danny jolted for a moment, still shivered, and his eyes flew open, "Don't kill them!" he cried out, bolting upright and looking frantically about the room. Jazz anticipated him to still be confused, but the fear in his glassy blue eyes slowly receded as he seemed to recognize his room. He let out a long sigh, before staring in confusion as his wet hair and the water spot on his sheets and pillow. He looked at Jazz, eyes hardening with accusation.

Jazz couldn't help but giggle in spite of herself, putting down the now empty glass and giving an awkward smile, "You ah...you were crying out in your sleep..." she explained, adverting her gaze for a moment.

Danny looked back down at his damp sheets, pushing them away from him and drawing his knees back up to his chest. He turned his eyes back toward Jazz, "So you dumped cold water on me?" he huffed, shivering as the water seeped through his clothes and plastered uncomfortably against his skin.

Jazz shrugged, the humor dying from her expression as concern replaced it, "Ah...I'm sorry Danny...you looked like you having some horrible nightmare or something, you kept crying out for someone to not hurt you or someone else..." she continued, "I couldn't bear watching it, and you wouldn't wake up when I tried to wake you...I guess I panicked."

Danny looked like he would retort sharply, but didn't, and looked away guiltily. Jazz saw him raise one of his hands to touch the tear stream that had been running down his face during his episode. He looked somewhat taken aback by it, and sighed, "Sorry..."

Jazz blinked, "For what?"

The younger brother sighed, shrugging, "I'm being an awful person...and you're just trying to help...not just this time but a lot of times..." he seemed to be rambling, his eyes growing unfocused, "...And I can't keep hating on you knowing I could lose all of you any time..."

Jazz blinked again, a bit surprised by his apology. Lose us at any time? Jazz supposed that she was meant to think it meant that accidents could occur any time, and losing someone can come quite suddenly. Yet she assumed deep down that he must have been somewhat referring to his situation too. He probably had made quite a number of enemies in the work he does; no doubt having enough enemies already poses a threat to them all. The mere thought made Jazz shudder.

But she didn't let it show. She sat down on the edge of the bed with him, and pulled him into a sudden hug, "It's alright, Danny. As long as you know I'm here for you when you need me. No one's perfect, not you, not me, not anyone, so I can always forgive you when stressful times come."

Cheesy, most definitely...Jazz thought right after, before releasing Danny from the embrace. Her brother sighed, "Thanks...Jazz..." he blinked, frowning at his bed again, "I guess I have to sleep in a drenched bed now?"

Jazz giggled again, rising back to her feet, "Nah, I won't make you sleep in that. As payback, you can sleep in my bed and I'll sleep on the couch tonight, deal?"

Danny gave her a mischievous smile, "Sounds good." He stood up slowly, still rather weak on his feet, and paused at the sight of the clock in the room, "Wait...Jazz, weren't you supposed to go to school...like half an hour ago?"

Jazz jumped, "Ah! Has it really been half an hour? I lost track of time..." she muttered, with a withering sigh. There goes my perfect attendance record...

She quickly hustled out of the doorway to retrieve her things, and Danny slowly made his way after her, toward her bedroom. As he approached, Jazz passed him on the way out and gave him a hurried kiss on the cheek, "Get better soon, little brother." she murmured, hurrying downstairs before he had time to react.

Danny watched he go, touching the spot she kissed with a small smile, before crying out, "Ew, Jazz!" mischievously and scrubbing it off his face.

The rest of the day was peaceful afterwards, as the nightmares finally let him be.