#asj post

Danny had signed his name, and drew a smiley face beside it. It wasn’t as nice as Sam’s vining purple flowers along the border of the poster-sized card, or Paulina’s Sayonara Pussycat stickers, but it was all Danny could think to contribute.

When Mr. Lancer returned one morning with his usual optimistic smile, the class cheered. Like during a football game. Though Danny was pretty sure Dash and the other jocks just wanted to make as much noise as possible for the fun of it when they started letting out ear-piercing whistles and stomping their feet.

Lancer actually sniffed and used a finger to wipe away a tear, before asking the class to quiet down.

He thanked everyone for the card and well-wishes, and said he was feeling much better and was eager to get back to teaching them all.

Then he turned to write on the chalkboard.

As he filled the board with writing, the class started whispering. And once he was done, and turned around to tell the class that the page numbers and questions to answer were on the board; Star had hesitantly raised her hand and delicately told him that none of the class could read it.

It took a few minutes for Lancer to be convinced that the class truly couldn’t make out his writing. Then he paled. And went back to the hospital.

He didn't come to school the next day, but did return the day after.

Each time he picked up the chalk to write something on the board, he paused, and then put the chalk back down.

Even Lancer’s notes on their returned assignments were unreadable to the class. But, as the weeks passed, people stopped mentioning it.

The thing was... Danny could read it.

For the rest of the class, Lancer’s writing was nothing but odd squiggles—a lingering side-effect of his stroke; maybe brain damage to the language part of his brain, or nerve damage in his hand messing up his fine motor skills. But to Danny, Lancer’s writing was as clear as day.

Lancer was writing in Ghost Script.

---

He, Mr. Lancer, glanced around, pulling the collar of his coat a bit higher around his face, before entering the door to the old warehouse.

He couldn’t let anyone from Casper High know about his extracurricular activities. About his secret double life after dark.

---

When Danny got an invite from the Ghost Writer to join a book club, his first impulse was to shred the invitation.

But he managed to keep from destroying it—barely.

The last time he’d destroyed something of the Ghost Writer’s and mocked the guy, he’d stuck him inside a story. Danny thought he’d never get out of those rhymes!

So, Danny, with gritted teeth, took the invitation politely, and thanked him for the invite.

If the Ghost Writer saw Danny’s eye twitching, he said nothing.

---

After a week of his eyes randomly landing on the invitation sitting on his dresser, Danny decided to go and see what that book club was like.

Even if he didn’t particularly like reading.

When Danny got to the rusted door, he double-checked the address.

Was that a 6, or a 9 that got loose and flipped upside down?

No, it really was a 6.

Danny tried the doorknob, but, though it turned, the door wouldn’t budge. When he shoved his shoulder against it, he heard a little rust falling, but that was all that happened.

Eventually, he sighed and went intangible through the door.

He’d gone to the address as Fenton, not wanting to draw attention by going as Danny Phantom, so he’d of preferred not to need ghost powers. But it did look like an abandoned part of town, so it probably didn’t matter.

Entering the warehouse, and letting his eyes adjust for a moment, he looked around and saw the Ghost Writer and several other ghosts sitting in midair in a circle, glowing books in their hands.

Then Danny squinted at a ghost he didn’t instantly remember. His back was to Danny, and Danny traced his eyes across the ghost’s pointed ears and bald head, and his maroon shirt.

Johnny called out to Danny, grabbing his attention for a moment, and all the other ghosts turned their heads to see Danny as well, waving or welcoming him to the club.

The mystery ghost looked over his shoulder, and Danny’s eyes widened. “Mr. Lancer?”

Lancer’s mouth dropped open.

Then the Box Ghost asked, “The teacher often found at your school?”

The Lunch Lady said, sweetly, “The one who took all the meat from the poor students?”

“The one who keeps hiding the boxes?” The Box Ghost added.

“The one who tried to give me detention for riding my motorcycle in the halls?” Johnny asked boredly.

Lancer glanced around, wide-eyed, at the ghosts in front of him, and at Danny Fenton.

“Fuck!”

---

I used these prompts:

@pennerjones "Mr. Lancer returns to school about a week after suffering an apparent stroke and needing to be rushed to the hospital. He's feeling much better and is ready to get back to teaching...only, when he tries to write anything on the chalkboard, all he can seem to write is a series of odd squiggles. --- Only Danny realizes that Mr. Lancer is now writing exclusively in ghost script"

@higgidigs "Mr. Lancer has a secret double life that nobody else knows about."

@ecto-mochi "All the ghosts decide to make a book club. To their surprise, Lancer shows up!"

She sees signs of it during the day through his winces, and feels the soreness radiate through her own muscles and bones. She sees him startle, and feels the spike of fear through her own heart. She hears him at night as he struggles to get a good night’s sleep, due to both soreness and nightmares, and she’s left unable to drift off at all.

Proximity helps.

The closer she is to Danny, the more soothing relief he will feel. She sits pressed against their shared wall each night, hoping to give him rest, hoping she herself can close her eyes.

A packed suitcase sits beside her bedroom door.

Her top choice of university... she can still barely believe it. And a scholarship at that. Her parents are set to drive her to the airport tomorrow morning for the flight there. The university’s several hundred miles from Amity Park. Several hundred miles from Danny.

She doesn’t know what to do.

---

Danny's woken up by the sounds of stuff banging around. He knows it's his parents and Jazz, getting ready to leave in time for her flight.

He groans and tries using a pillow to block out the sounds.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. He can't get back to sleep. So he goes ahead and gets dressed.

Maybe he'll say bye to her before she leaves.

As he walks down the stairs, he hears a conversation.

"I know it's short notice," Jazz says. "I can pay you back for the plane ticket."

"But Sweetie," his mom says, and Danny can now see them on the living room couch, his mom running a hand through Jazz's hair, "I thought you really liked this university."

Jazz sighs. "I do. But I think I'll take a year off. If I can't get the scholarship after that, then I'll go to a different university."

Danny frowns.

Something isn't right.

As Jazz starts back up the stairs with her suitcase, Danny invisibly slides partway through the wall to let her pass.

She pauses and looks to the side for a long moment, as though she can sense him somehow, before continuing to her room.

Danny follows her and knocks on the door. "Jazz?"

The door opens. "Danny?" She blinks at him, looking confused.

"We need to talk," he says and walks into the room. It's weird... being in the bright pink room seems to relax him. "What's going on? You've been talking nonstop about college for the past five years. There's no way you'd change your mind. So what happened?" He crosses his arms. Jazz is his sister, and whatever is bothering her, he's going to fix it. And get her on that plane.

Jazz stares at him. Her eyes seem to glow for a moment. Then she blinks and shakes her head with a sigh. "You really aren't going to let this feeling go, are you?"

Feeling?

"Danny..." She sits on the edge of her bed and gestures for him to sit as well.

Even after he sits, she doesn't start talking. He can see her face twitching and eyes shifting slightly, as though mentally sifting through what to tell him.

"Danny... Ghost appearances are up right now. I want to help— to be here to help. I can go to college anytime—"

Danny shakes his head. "No. You said you might not get the scholarship if you wait. I have Sam and Tucker to help me, it's fine. Plus there's Valerie, and Mom and Dad. They can catch ghosts, too."

She shakes her head. "You don't understand." Again, it looks like her eyes are glowing. "I can feel it. Fighting all these ghosts is overwhelming you right now."

He rolls his eyes. "Nothing's overwhelming me." He actually feels really good right now. The only thing bothering him is Jazz not getting on her plane.

Jazz grabs his hands. "Danny," she says urgently.

He can feel himself relaxing farther, her room is so nice and peaceful. If she will just get on the plane, everything will be perfect in life.

Jazz snatches her hands away as though burned. "No! Danny," she says again, like his name is a filler word for grasping her thoughts, "I... I have ghost powers, too." Then she continues, saying everything quickly, like the words are just spilling out, "It started some time ago, but then I really started to notice a few months ago when I could feel you through the wall, and I can feel everyone's emotions but you're the one who's always hurting and I can soothe that and take some of the ache and help you sleep and, and..." she takes a breath, and her eyes slide downward. She says softly, "And I can't do that if I'm not here."

Danny blinks as he tries to work out what she just said. She has ghost powers? She... can feel emotions? She can soothe...

Danny glances around her room, taking in the pink walls and large pink rug and pink pillows on her bed, and her teddy bear sitting there like it's listening to them.

It's not her room that feels so comforting—it's her.

That's why he feels so at peace right now. Jazz has weird psycho-powers. ...That's why he's been busier lately but hasn't felt a toll from it. Without Jazz... he might not be able to fight ghosts at the rate he's been doing lately.

"How sure are you that I would be overwhelmed without you here?" Danny checks. Maybe she's overreacting a little.

"...I haven't actually slept in three months."

"Oh."

"But I'm pretty sure sleep isn't a necessity with my version of ecto-contamination, since a normal human would start showing psychological symptoms after just two or three nights."

"Jazz, that's not really reassuring."

"...Yeah, I can tell," she says, eyebrows furrowing a little.

So Jazz has been staying up every night because of him? That was even more reason for her to go to college.

"Look. The problem's how many ghosts I've been having to fight lately, right?"

Jazz half nods, half tilts her head to the side; like trying to make a so-so gesture with her head. "Well... mostly."

"Then I'll ask for help."

Jazz's eyebrows wrinkle in confusion, her bottom lip pushing out slightly in the rare look she makes when she doesn't understand something. Apparently she can't actually read his thoughts, just his emotions.

"I'll tell Mom and Dad. Once they know, they can help take some of the weight off, and I can tell them what I know about different ghosts so they'll be able to catch them easier."

"But I thought you didn't want to tell them," Jazz asked. "If I'm influencing your decision..."

"It's not like that. I've wanted to tell them ever since the accident. But... I never find the right time, or I keep making excuses. I know they'll accept me. But," he shrugs, "I just can't seem to go through with it. But now, it would help if they know. And if you're with me steadying my nerves, and keeping an eye on Mom and Dad's feelings... I think I can do it now."

---

Jazz goes downstairs with Danny. Their parents feel confused at seeing them. And a little hopeful—they ask if she's changed her mind about college.

Jazz can feel Danny begin to get nervous, and she squeezes his hand, soothing away irrational fears, and letting them pool into her own stomach. She can feel confidence and determination take its place within Danny.

She's careful not to take any emotions other than Danny's nervousness. Their parents' reactions need to be true. Not prone to change once she leaves—if she decides to leave.

Their parents are shocked when he tells them, overwhelmed and concerned. There's horror and guilt, but also love and acceptance. Jazz is pretty sure the horror is about Danny getting hurt in the portal accident, and not about what Danny is.

She can't feel any revulsion or uncertainty in them. And she tells Danny this later.

"Did you cancel your flight?" Danny asks.

"Oh. It'd slipped my mind. I guess a refund isn't going to be possible."

"What time did you need to get there?"

Jazz looks at her watch. "The plane leaves in ten minutes. There's no way I can get there in time."

"I can take you. How much luggage do you have?" Danny asks and searches around her room.

She doesn't like the amount of confidence radiating from him.

"Danny, it takes thirty-five minutes to get to the airport. Even with Dad's driving, we wouldn't get there in time."

"No, seriously. I'll take you," Danny says. "Here." He hands her her suitcase. "What direction's the airport from here?"

"It's down route—"

Danny holds up a hand. "Never mind, I'll just ask Tucker for directions." He pushes a Fenton Phone into his ear. "Tucker?"

About a year back, Tucker hooked up the Fenton Phones to work together with cellphones, so that it was possible to call anyone's cell phone by voice command.

"Hey, Tuck, what direction's the Airport from Fenton Works?"

Danny walks over to her window and pulls it open.

She very much does not like this.

"Danny, what—" Jazz asks.

Danny grabs her around the waist and pulls her through the window and surrounding wall.

She screams as the roofs of buildings start to streak by beneath her.

---

I used these prompts:

from @echoghost1: "Jazz finds out the hard way that living with her parents lack of lab safety is starting to effect her physically."

from @lostlitany: "Jazz doesn’t know what to do. Her brother is hurting, she sees it in the winces, and flinches, she hears it in the hisses and groans on the other side of their shared bedroom wall. He says he’s fine. She’s not, though."

from @ashleyreyland: "It's time for Jazz to leave for college, but she's struggling to leave Danny alone with her parents. She doesn't want to put her future on hold, but she's not sure what to do."

from @bellsandmischief: "How does it feel to be helpless? How does it feel to know pain?"

from @rgbyshipper101: "Danny notices something is up with Jazz. He decides to find out what. Danny and Jazz bonding!"

It was a view of this dreamer's future—or her hope for it. A common theme. Tonight she dreamed of winning a Nobel Peace Prize. Apparently her second Nobel prize, having previously won one for medicine.

She gave a speech when she accepted the medal, thanking her little brother, her parents, and her teachers for their help and support during her research into ghost psychology and how to reconcile and unite the two worlds.

Nocturn had been drawn to this girl's dreams night after night.

It had nothing to do with the girl herself, of course. Nor the dream power he had sensed deep within her while at the mattress factory.

He was not drawn to the girl's dreams, either. He simply happened to notice them during the nights he could not sleep.

He narrowed his eyes at himself while he continued to watch the dream. There was applause and a standing ovation, even roses tossed onstage, and there was her bright smile.

The dream faded, and he sighed, hoping there would be a double-feature tonight.

...Perhaps... he could possibly be getting attached to the halfa's older sister after all.

But he was not father material. More of a wine aunt, if anything at all.

He wasn't interested in having a child. The burden of fatherhood, the responsibility. And the budding part-ghost would need someone to teach her. Nocturn was not that someone.

However... the abilities he had sensed within her—the power to make dreams come to pass... What wonderful things she could accomplish in time, given the right guidance.

Yet, time was the key word. He could not be bothered to spend such time on guiding a child. He was quite busy.

Nocturn continued to channel surf the night's dreams, for lack of anything else to do.

It was quite dull, when he had nothing to do with his time during the night.

---

The prompts used are:

"Nocturn is not father material. Really more wine aunt than anything. He is also not growing attached to the sunshine-filled thoughts and can do attitude of the halfa’s older sister" by @bubblegumbeech

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