#middayglories

"Was it a fight?” Jazz swallowed consciously in the silence that followed. “If you don’t want to tell me, well that’s fine too. I just—”

"We didn't fight," Danny answered with sudden force. His head jerked up, eyes in hers. "Everything was great between us. And she broke up with me." His words cracked at the end, but Danny made no attempts to amend it.

Jazz lowered herself onto the first stair and motioned for Danny to do the same. “Okay. Okay tell me what happened.”

He shook his head but sat anyway. “It's complicated. You wouldn't get it.”

"Try me," Jazz countered his fierceness, and the words seemed to crack something inside her hapless little brother.

"She broke up with me…" Danny motioned at something with his hand "because she doesn't want me to get hurt."

Jazz let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Everyone’s afraid of getting hurt in a relationship. But you've got to power through it. Tell her…tell her that’s why you've got to put work into a relationship—if everyone broke up because they were afraid of getting their heart bro—”

Danny cut her off with two fingers to her mouth. He countered her humorless laugh with an incredulous one. “No, no like physically hurt. Like bruised up and bloody.”

"…You?"

"Yeah—me." His attention fell to his hands. "Because she hunts ghosts, and she’s afraid for me."

Jazz shook her head. “She’s a hunter? Since when were there other hunters?”

He looked up into the corner, considering. "Since about 5 months ago I guess."

"Why though?"

Danny bit down a bitter smile. “A ghost kind if ruined her life.”

"Who?"

"Me."

Jazz hid her mouth behind her mug of tea as she choked. She held her breath, suppressing the sputtering coughs as she processed this. “And she’s hunting—”

"Me."

"While trying to protect—"

"Me."

Jazz let out a held breath, head rocking. “Wow...and she doesn't know you and Phantom—?”

"Nope."

"Ah."

"You kind of see the dilemma here, don’t you?"

"I think I’m starting to get the picture." Jazz stood and ushered Danny to follow her. He hovered by the kitchen entrance as she extracted a second mug and second tea bag from the cabinet. "So you can’t convince her you’ll be okay without revealing your identity, and you can’t reveal your identity without making her hate you."

"Bingo," Danny muttered as he accepted the tea she gave him. He sipped it, puckered his lips, and muttered "It just tastes like hot water."

Jazz ignored the comment and leaned over the counter opposite her brother. “So set the record straight with her—let her see Phantom's not such a bad guy.”

Danny snorted into his mug, dark eyes peering over the rim. “Oh trust me I've tried. Usually guns get involved before we reach that stage of our little 'heart-to-heart.'” He set his tea down, dissatisfied. “She doesn't trust ghosts, and she doesn't have the patience to listen to everything I've got to say.”

"…Who says it’s got to be everything?" Jazz offered quietly as she stirred another sugar cube into her tea. It clanged against the rims, refusing to melt. "At least—all at once that is."

"What? Do I tell her in pieces then?" Danny tried another sip of the tea and looked up somewhat more dissatisfied. "Should I shout half a sentence at her each day over gunfire until I feel I've explained myself?""

"No, not like that at all." Jazz grabbed her keys and wallet from the counter and, with a twist of her shoulder, encouraged Danny to follow. "Basement first."

"Why?"

"Mom and I have been refitting the wristrays. There’s a bunch of them lying around."

"And what are we doing with those?"

Jazz flashed her wrist before descending the stairs, a sleek green band caught the light, crossed with tasteful rings of silver. “Decorating them.”

…

Valerie clicked her heel twice against the face of her board. It shot out a hazy map of the park, hologram shimmering as it tried to hold itself together. A distant blip registered in its field.

"Come on out!" She called, ectogun at the ready. "You just gonna hide forever?"

"We’ll that was the plan, at least until you lowered your gun." Valerie spun at the voice that tingled in her ear, behind her, met with two sharp green eyes. "I kinda get that that’s not happening though."

"I knew it," she growled, and let the gun charge with a satisfied smile on her face.

Both of Phantom's hands shot up into the air, a gift bag dangling loosely from his left pinky. “Hey hey just hear me out! Just for a second! I promise I’m not gonna attack you.”

"What’s in the bag, Phantom?"

"Oh this?" He made to lower it to her, but Valerie countered instantly with the gun in his face.

"You open it. Show me what’s inside."

"You don’t trust me?"

"You tried to kill me. So no."

Phantom blinked, suddenly hurt. “No, I tried to kill the maniac ghost that took over your suit. There’s a difference.”

The response caught Valerie off guard, but she hid it from her face. “The bag. Now.”

Phantom nodded and stuck one glowing hand into the flimsy paper. The silhouettes of his fingers were visible through the crinkled side. They snatched something, clamped between his thumb and index, and he pulled it from the wrapping paper depths. It looked like a rubber band, but larger, thicker--red with black stripes.

"It’s a wrist ray. A good one. Fenton quality. I mean I know most of your gadgets function only when you've got the suit on, but you can wear this just like a bracelet. Always be prepared, and it’s cute…I-I think."

Valerie nodded stiffly. “Uh-huh, and why are you giving me this?”

The corners of Phantom's eyes crinkled with a smile, his pupils dropping. “Because I’m sorry for the way I ruined your life, and because I just want to help you get past that however I can.” He offered the bracelet forward. “And if hunting ghosts is how you’re doing that, then I want to help.”

"…What else is in the bag?"

Phantom's nervous smile flickered, a fearful sobriety piercing his eyes. He seemed to snap back into reality, and his face paled.

"Just…just a flower," he muttered as his hand surfaced with a rose. "From a gas station."

"Did you steal it?"

"No! I bought it."

Valerie ran her tongue over the lips, eyes trained on Phantom's nervous face.

"Go home Phantom, before I blast you into a thousand smoldering little pieces."

"But—"

Valerie raised her gun. "I don’t feel like cleaning bits of you off the sidewalk! Go!"

Phantom gave a quick nod, eyes wide, before vanishing on spot. The gift bag fell to the ground, tipped over in a mess of weeds sprouting by the pond.

…

At 7:45 am, Valerie gray stood with a hairbrush in front of her mirror. Newspaper clippings littered the back wall, reflected and unreadable in the cut of mirror. She yanked through the last tangle of knots in her hair and grabbed a spray bottle to tame the frizz that cropped up in patches. She snatched a headband and snapped it into her hair.

She smiled halfheartedly at the mirror. She'd done her best to cover the dark bags blooming under her eyes and painted over the few bruises with concealer. Her reflection still looked tired, worried, and she tried for a bigger smile.

Her attention didn't stick to her face, instead it flickered to the corner of her mirror frame. Seated on the dresser was a little vase, the one usually stowed in her mom's old porcelain cabinet which hadn't been touched in at least ten years. It was crystal, a zigzag design distorting the stem that stretched to the glass’s bottom. With a quick flick of her fingers, Valerie took hold of the lone flower stem and turned the petals to face her.

The little rose housed inside wilted to the side, its petals jagged and raw from the scrubbing she'd given it. She had to be safe, had to be certain, had to make sure Phantom hadn't soaked it in anything meant to poison her, so she cleaned its every last petal, leaf, and thorn. Deep down, she never really believed he would.