16 is 16, people. Not 11.

"What?" Jazz screamed, jumping off Sam's bed. "What do you mean by that?"

Sam's eyes were wide as she tried to calm the older teen. "Calm down, Jazz. I said I think he's doing that... I didn't say I had any proof..."

Jazz's eyes were set in determination. "Then let's get some..."

I sighed. This was terrible. There was no escape. That knife cut into me even when I hid it in an empty drawer...

Absolutely no escape for the sinful...

I mean. I didn't deserve this life. I took everything in my nearly perfect life... for granted. I sat selfishly in my completely furnished room. A computer. A bed. A bunch of clothes. I was selfish. I was spoiled and selfish. There were people out there with real problems and here I was moping for myself. My selfish, selfish self.

I flopped back onto the bed after going to look at the drawer somberly. I didn't feel like moving, barely felt like breathing. I just lay there. On my bed. Pitying an undeserving creature.

Me.

"What are you talking about, Jazz? How are we going to get proof that's what Danny's doing?" Sam yelled as she followed Jazz down the street.

"Easy... We watch him... I don't really want to believe you," she said, turning to Sam, "but I trust you. So... I'm going to see if you're right." She held her thumb to her teeth. "Besides, if you are right then... then we need to help him, right? It'd be wrong to find out and just ignore it."

"Jazz..." Sam said softly. She didn't want Jazz to be upset and worked up over this. Jazz was always worrying for her little brother. There was only one way Sam could take a bit of that away from her, she thought as Jazz turned her attention back to her. Sam sighed. "I'll help you... find your proof. I—"

She was cut off but Jazz's unexpected hug and chorus of gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much, Sam! Thank you, thank you!"

Sam cringed in her grasp. "Human contact... crushing goth... indifference..."

Jazz, who did not hear Sam's mutterings, slowly released her. She smiled thankfully and said one last time, "Thanks so much, Sam, you don't know how much this means to me."

"I think me and my bruised arms got the message..." she muttered to her self, looking over them for damage.

Jazz had heard that one and said, "Sorry, Sam. Guess I don't know my own strength?"

"Yeah, I heard that before. Ya know, when your super-powered brother squeezed me to death." Sam smiled to let Jazz know she was kidding.

Sam's comment just reminded Jazz what she needed to do. "Come on, let's get to my house."

The girls entered the house as quietly as humanly possible. Danny, Sam thought as she heard the door's dead blot click, could be even quieter, considering he could walk through the door.

They trotted up the steps, their feet making it seem as if someone was continually dropping boulders on the ground, to Sam's ears. She sighed in relief after trekking up what felt like a hundred miles of stairs. She looked to Jazz to see if she was as nervous. "Jazz?" she breathed in a whisper.

Jazz responded in the same manor, "Yeah?"

"Is Danny home?"

Jazz looked at his door. Music was blasting through it and all the tiny cracks the sound could have found. Jazz sighed. "Yes..."

They slipped into Jazz's overly pink bedroom, according to Sam, that is. She walked over to a teetering pile of books on her desk and grabbed the top book. She glanced over the cover to check and make sure it was the right one. She flipped it over to show Sam the title.

Sam read it quickly. "Why'd you get this?" she asked in a whisper.

"I didn't plan on it... Danny picked it up for me. Then he tried to get it back. That should've been my first clue." She sighed sadly and sat on her bed, placing the book on her lap.

Dealing with Self Endangerment, You and Your Self Harming Problems: Cutting stared up at her furiously.

"He couldn't have picked up a better one," Sam muttered, sitting next to her.

Jazz nodded while saying, "You got that right."

Jazz let it slide off her lap and to the ground. "I don't know what to do..." she murmured. "I just don't..." She felt the emotions swirl, colliding with each, mixing in a way that she couldn't tell if she was angry, at herself or at Danny, or sad, for Danny, or even guilty that she didn't see this. She felt like curling in a ball. Her eyes widened. She did see this... and she ignored it.

That day... Danny was overly happy... Like he was trying to be overly happy. Like he was hiding that he wasn't. She remembered when she came up to his room to tell him it was dinner time. He was all gloomy... a real downer all night. Like the effort to be happy was too much to ask. Her mind flashed to the scene Sam described for her. He was completely angry one second, Sam had said, then guilty and compassionate the next. Her brother was...

No. Danny is not bipolar. But... Perhaps Sam is right...

"Do you really think Danny's... c-cutting himself?"

"I have no clue. I want to say no. No. Not in a million years... but... The proof..."

"I never want to be a scientist," Jazz muttered.

"Ditto..."

In reality, I wouldn't just sit in one spot, pity myself and not notice people in my house.

But... When I was concerned, when did reality ever care to be kind to me?

So, no, I did not hear Sam and Jazz come up and go to Jazz's room. If I had, I wouldn't be in the mess I am now. Not even close.

Though, asking Jazz, I'm not in a mess. I'm getting help.

What a load.

But... She's right. I'm not in a mess.

I am the mess.

I sighed and flipped over, still not feeling like moving, but burying my face in my stupidly soft pillow.

I didn't even deserve the pillow.

I noticed it made my breathing harder, the pillow I didn't deserve, so I continued to smother my face. I kept pushing it in farther, farther, until I couldn't breathe at at anymore. I lay like that for a couple of minutes, the pressure on my oxygen deprived lungs increasing with each second and attempted breath, the ectoplasm in my system keeping me from passing out, keeping me aware to indure my self inflicted torture. That's when human instinct kicked in, pulling me away, forcing me to breathe real air, not through a pillow.

I curled into a pathetic ball. I felt hot, liquified shame roll across my face, wishing it would stop. All the tears were was evidence that I was a failure.

The shame wasn't the only thing I wanted to cease.

It was what I just tried to end.

"Here's the plan," Sam said to Jazz, who was sitting on her bed fumbling with the book, the evil tattle tale book, "we watch Danny to get your proof, then we confront him." She slammed her fist down on her other hand on the word confront.

"I don't know..." Jazz muttered. "What if he's more on unstable than we thought? What if something happens?"

"Jazz, no matter how far in he is, no matter how... crazy he gets, he's still your brother and my friend, he'd never hurt us, no matter what." Sam said these words hoping to believe them herself. Just like that day after school. She told Jazz there was nothing wrong with Danny, and she made herself believe that. And look how wrong she turned out with that. She was wrong. She hoped with all her heart, with every piece of her, every molucle, that she was wrong. Wrong.

For her's and Jazz's sake, absolutely wrong.

The next day was a pretty normal day. Lancer was no doubt boring enough to almost put me in a coma. Math did put me in one, as well as PE... And... Science was...

Who am I kidding? Science was a bust, a disaster.

Because of me.

Sam had called the night before. She said she was so sorry for not calling sooner and how she acted Saturday. I told her the only one who needed to apoligizze was me for my behavior. She said it was her fault. I didn't push it, we were okay. That was all that mattered. We met outside of the school, making up in person.

So, we were friends again, occasionally, though, I'd catch Sam just staring at me, not saying anything, just staring, like she was trying to solve a puzzle that had eluded mankind for centuries. All through the day, she'd just stare.

At English.

During History.

At PE. She got hit pretty hard in the head with a basketball, like I did later, because she was watching my group instead of paying attention to her own. I know it sounds weird, why weren't we in the same group? But, even if it's co-ed, they have some separations.

At Lunch. That's when I confronted her.

Sam was staring again. This time, I stared back. This probably freaked out Tucker, but I didn't care. "What?" It came out a little nasty, but, hey, she was the one that couldn't stop staring at me.

Sam blinked a couple of times, her fork was poised in the air halfway from her salad, and said, "Huh?"

I put my chicken salad sandwich down on my plate. "Why do you keep staring at me?" I asked, cocking my head a bit to the right.

"Was it because of his sandwich?" Tucker joked, holding a his stomach as if to control laughter and soothe his ache and laughed.

Sam put her fork down, slammed her left fist on the table and turned slightly to glare at him, her lips pursed slighly as well. "No! Why would I watch someone eat a poor, defenseless animal! Tucker, you're so insensitive!" At the end, Sam stood above Tucker, Tucker lowered away from her.

"Look, Sam, here, I'll eat something else. Here, I'll eat my cookies," I said, picking one up to show her.

Sam sat back down, her lips still pressed against each other. "It's not about the sandwich."

I pulled my eyebrows together in confusion. "Then what is it about?"

She stood again, this leaning over me. I leaned back a bit, mouth gaping. "You know what—Never mind. You guys enjoy your lunch. See you in science." With that said, Sam picked up her bag, leaving her lunch, and exited the cafeteria.

"Does she expect us to throw away her trash?" Tucker asked, eying her unfinished salad.

I ignored his comment. "Should I go after her?"

"Nah, man, let her blow off steam. Something is probably going on and she's a little upset."

I looked doubtful. "If you say so..."

After Tuck and I finished lunch, and I threw away Sam's trash if anyone is asking, we headed to science, which all three of us had together. Sam was propped against the wall outside the science room, looking at her feet. When we came by, she first lifted her eyes then started, jumping from the wall. "Danny!" she said. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." She gave me a quick hug then stepped away.

"Hey, don't I get a hug? You hurt my feelings too, ya know," Tucker piped up.

Sam looked like she was about to tell him off, for a minute there, until her features softened and she smiled. "Of course," she said, leaning toward him as well, "sorry."

Tucker smiled as the bell rang. "Ya know what that is?" he asked us.

I shrugged. "The bell for science?"

"Nope," Tuck said happily, closing his eyes. He continued matter-of-factly, "The signal that there is any two hours left of the day."

We were smiling as we walked into the classroom.

"Today, class," bagan Mr. Faluca, "to keep you interested in science for the rest of your time here at Casper High, you will be permitted to use the chemicals I provide for you."

The class erupted in cheers and I bounced lightly on my feet in anticipation as well. This would be fun, Mr. Faluca never let us use the chemicals due to us being freshman. Only sophomore and up, he said. So, everyone was excited.

"I've paired you up with a Junior, and for those of you who aren't paired up with a Junior are paired with a student who took the Summer Chemistry Course. Now the materials we will be using are..." I turned to my left to look at Sam.

I whispered to her, "You took the Summer Chemistry Course?"

She glanced at me, then back to the broad. "Yes, my parents made me."

"Oh..." I glanced down at my hands fumbling with a small flask.

"But at least it's a good thing... We're partners..." she whispered, no longer paying attention to Mr. Faluca.

I smiled, then noticed Mr. Faluca released the class to do their assignments. I looked at Sam, she had the same look I had. We didn't hear a thing of what we were suppose to do. The look we shared was terror.

"Should we ask him?" I whispered.

"No," she whispered back, "it's Mr. Faluca. You know how he gets."

"Then what are we going to do?" I whisper-yelled.

"Hey," a Junior said from beside me, "are you guys having trouble?"

"Yeah, we, uh, kinda forgot a bit of what we were suppose to do..." I smiled nervously.

"Oh? Which part?" he asked.

I looked at the ground. "Um... All of it?"

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. "Which one of you took the summer course?"

I jerked my thumb behind me to Sam, my sight remained to the ground. He spoke with Sam, telling her to use a bunch of chemicals I had no idea what they were. All I caught was Potassium Chlorate... Whatever that was...

"That's all?" Sam asked, because it was a short list.

"Yep," the Junior said and Sam turned to collect the materials. "Oh," he said, turning to me. "I forgot. Put this in. Last," he added sternly.

I nodded then stopped myself. "Aren't we suppose to use what he provided?"

"He forgot to give it to you, here." He held out his closed fist. I put my hand out and he dropped whatever it was into it. I glanced at my hand to find about five Skittles. I raised my eyebrow and turned back to ask him why would I need those, but he was already talking to his partner, who was Paulina. She was batting her eyelashes and smiling, pretty much getting him to do what she wanted him to do.

I went back to my table where Sam had everything set up on the Bunsen burner. At the bottom of the flask was some white liquid.

"It's not doing anything..." Sam muttered.

I glanced back at the Skittles. That's why it wasn't doing anything. I held my closed fist above the flask. Sam's eyes widened.

"Danny, what are you doing?" she asked, eying my hand.

"That Junior said to put these in last... That's why it wasn't doing anything..."

"What is it?" she said. I opened my hand to show her the Skittles. She frowned. "I'm not sure you should put those in there..."

"Sam, if we don't, we don't pass for today... I don't feel like having an F and a detention in one day." I put my hand back over the flask.

Sam first looked like she wanted to argue, but then said, "Okay."

I dropped one in.

It all happened so fast, and that's the only way to describe it. First, something shot out of the flask and hit a pile of papers on Mr. Faluca's desk, setting them on fire. I dove and covered Sam, us both landing roughly on the ground. Sam told me later she was grateful for that. A couple of students, including Tucker and Valerie, ran for the fire alarm while Mr. Faluca searched frantically for the extinguisher. The alarm began to sound and Mr. Faluca, giving up on the fire extinguisher, called for all of us to evacuate. Mr. Faluca must have forgotten me and Sam because when we got up, everyone was gone and the room was filled with smoke and fire.

"Come on, Danny!" Sam called from the door.

"I can't! I set this fire! I gotta put it out!" I called back.

"Danny," Sam reasoned, "it's spread too much! We have to go!"

I swept the room and decided that it was a lost cause. I ran to the door, using my agility to get through the fire. I met Sam at the door and we ran into the hall, down the steps and out the door.

"There they are!" someone called. Apparently we were being looked for.

"Daniel! Samantha!" Mr. Faluca called. "Are you two alright?"

Sam glared at nothing when he called her "Samantha". I smiled at our teacher for caring. "Yeah... we just got lost."

Mr. Faluca creased his eyebrows but said nothing. A couple of paramedics came up to us saying they had to check us over, no matter how much Sam and I protested.

Jazz ran up to me after they were done. "Danny! Are you okay!" She engulfed me in hug that would kill a bear. When she finally released me, I laughed.

"Thanks for letting me have oxygen."

"You wouldn't be able to if you had stayed in there," Jazz countered. "What took you two so long?"

"I wanted to put the fire out, but Sam wouldn't let me."

Jazz put her hands on her hips. "Why would you want to put out the fire?"

I looked at my feet in shame. "I sorta... set it..."

"Danny, you what?"

"It was an accident!" I defended.

Jazz closed her eye and bowed her head, pinching the bridge of her nose in a Vlad-like fashion. I said nothing because I knew that would make her mad. She looked back up at me and said, "Okay. Okay, I believe you."

"You mean... you didn't at first? Is that what you were thinking about?"

"No. I was thinking about what would've happened if you didn't come out of there..." She smile and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Oh... Well. Thanks for caring." I smiled back to her.

She began to lead me to the RV. "Come on, Mom and Dad are waiting for us."

Mom looked me over twice, at the school and at home.

"Mom, I told you I'm fine."

"Okay..." She looked skeptical. "Go call your friends. See if they're okay."

I nodded and smiled, running to my room.

But, I didn't make it before the blue mist came out with my gasp.

"Danny? Is something wrong?" my mother asked.

"Nope," I said without turning around, "everthing's fine..."

"Okay." Short, sweet and simple. Wasn't she, just a minute ago, fretting over my well being? Nice.

I ran to the door and went ghost. If my mom saw anything, she didn't say anything.

I flew through the door and out into the crisp February air. I breathed it in, as if getting strength from it. I looked in all directions for the ghost that triggered my ghost sense, but saw no one.

"Looking for me?" a female voice said from behind me. I became rigid. Not her. Not now.

"Something wrong?" the voice taunted. Not her. Not now.

Not when I felt like this.

"Danny?" her voice continued to prod.

Not now.

I could feel her smile as well as her perfectly calculating glare.

I was a walking buffet for her.

She slithered up behind me and placed her black hands on my now tense shoulders.

"Danny, why so tense? Tell me all about it. You know us therapists. We love to talk it out."

Ectoenergy gathered in my hands. I wanted nothing but to be far away from her. Far, far away.

Jazz carefully snicked up the stairs to Danny's room. Once there, she knocked on the door to see if her brother was there. Receiving no answer, Jazz slowly opened the door, wincing as it creaked.

Sam said top drawer, she thought to herself as she swiveled her head around to look at the room. She ran over to the dresser and grabbed the knife. The sight of the blood and ectoplasm mixture broke her heart, but she shoved it into her pocket and ran down to the lab, where she intended to hide it.

I turned intangible in Spectra's grasp. I wanted to be far, far, far away from her. Far, far away. I shot a couple of ectoblasts at her, each missing due to her moving and my bad aim caused by my shaking.

"What's the matter, Danny? Look at you. You're shaking."

I hated her. So much.

That's when lunged at me. She turned us intangible and we sailed into my basement. The lab.

Jazz had just found the perfect spot to hide the knife, a filing cabinet drawer, when Danny and a ghost, Spectra, flew in and landed on the floor. Spectra had Danny pinned there, but he was fighting, he was just very tense.

Jazz remained silent, unaware that they didn't know she was there.

"Look at you," Spectra chided. Her hungry laugh sounded through the room. "You, you can't even beat me. You can't stop a fire. You can't even stop that no good Technus. Not only are you a freak, but a failure too!" She laughed as she closed her eyes and threw back her head.

That's when Danny untensed. Jazz gasped quietly and made her away behind the piled garbage, knowing now that they hadn't seen her. She was going for the Fenton Thermos when Spectra threw Danny to the exact spot where she was standing.

Danny lay there motionless for only a few seconds. He picked up something off the ground and stared at it.

"Go ahead. You can't get any lower," Spectra's voice chided. With her deed done, Spectra flew through the roof leaving Danny staring at empty air. He brought his knees to his chest.

He sat there and stared at nothing. Why? What would there be to stare at? What did he deserve to stare at? He breathed heavily and rocked back and forth, clutching the knife tight in his hand. He messed up again. Yet again, another failure. That's all that seem to come from him: failure.

Jazz's eyes became sad as they creased.

He was dematerializing before her eyes. He sat and clutched the knife tightly, like a life-line. What broke her heart the most: This was happening for a while... and she never saw it.

Something snapped when she saw him the knife to his left wrist and push it.

You should thank castyola, people who didn't review. Her review was one of my favorites.

And a special thanks to DizzlyPuzzled and DeliciousKrabKakes for helping me with the science scene.

THIS IS THE LONGEST ONE YET!

Reviewer Challenge: Choose your favorite part of this chapter and say why. The usual stuff, too.