"Hello?" Jazz picked up the telephone the next day as she arrived home from school, skipping some of her after-school activities to check up on Danny, seeing as their parents had gone to some sort of Ghost Hunter's meeting and wouldn't be back until later that night.
"Jazz?" A familiar voice asked over the reciever. Jazz smiled.
"Hey, Sam."
"Hi," Sam sounded a little nervous, but she continued. "Um...Danny wasn't in school today...is he okay?"
"Well," Jazz sighed and pulled up a chair. This would take some explaining. "Well, Mom excused him from school today because he's sick."
"Sick?" Sam repeted, "with what?"
"We don't know," Jazz bit her lip and hesitated before continuing. "It took mom forever to wake him up this morning. She started freaking out after 7 minutes of trying to wake him up without a response. I heard a comotion and and walked in just as he opened his eyes. We were able to talk mom out of taking him to the hospital–"
"What! Why?" Sam interrupted. "Even if they find out he is half ghost, it's better than him dying or something!"
"Sam," Jazz said soothingly, "I know he's your best friend, but calm down, okay. The reason we didn't want her to take him to the hospital is because they probably wouldn't be able to do anything for him."
"How do you know that?" Sam asked, a little more calmly.
"Because he had a run in with a ghost named Walker yesterday," she paused, knowing Sam had probably just lost a few shades of color in her face. 'Wait,' she thought to herself, 'how did I know his name? I've never met the ghost, and Danny never mentioned him...' She brushed the thought from her mind with a shake of her head, and continued. "We think he did something to Danny, because he can barely sit up, let alone stand or walk anywhere."
"Sorry to panic on you like that," Sam said. "Ugh, I just sounded like Tucker." Jazz laughed at her comment. "So, how is he now? Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Well," Jazz looked up, "I was just going to check on him when you called, and I don't think you can do anything until we actually figure out what's going on." Sam hesitated for a minute before answering.
"You know," she said finally, "you sounded like Danny for a minute there." Jazz laughed again.
"Well, he is my brother."
"Yeah," Sam returned the laugh. "Well, have him call me when he wakes up, okay? And Tucker too. We should be on later tonight."
"Okay, I will," she promised. "Later."
"Later," Sam replied. Jazz smiled as she hung up the phone and trudged up the stairs to her sleeping brother's room.
—
"Danny?" Jazz whispered, sticking her head inside the darkened room. A soft groan and some rustling movement answered her. "Hey," she walked in and flipped on the light. Danny looked around groggily, before sitting up to where he leaned on his elbows, and ran a hand through his messy, bed hair.
"What time is it?" he croaked. Jazz sat on the end of his bed, looking at him with sympathy.
"About three-thirty."
"Wow," Danny yawned.
"Do you feel any better?" Danny looked up as his sister addressed him.
"Um..." he put a hand back on his head, "A little, I guess."
"Do you have any idea what that Walker guy did to you?" Danny struggled to sit up fully, all the while, shaking his head.
"No."
"Have your powers come back?" He shrugged and closed his eyes.
"No," he replied finally and glanced down. Jazz realized how sick he looked. His skin looked pale and clammy, while his normally vibrent, blue eyes seemed almost grey. Heavy bags rested under his eyes, and the askew hair didn't really help his look either. His shirt, the same he'd worn the day before, looked wrinkled and used, and his bed cover still covered his pante, but she was sure that he hadn't changed those either.
"How long has it been since you've eaten?" she asked suddenly. Danny scratched his head.
"Um...Mom brought something up–"
"This morning?" Jazz interrupted. Danny nodded. "Yeah, I saw."
"But I fell asleep before I finished it. Just after you left."
"That's it?" Jazz asked. Danny nodded, stifling another yawn. "I'll make you some soup, then." She patted his leg and walked across the room.
"Okay, thanks," he nodded with a smile and watched her walk out of the room. No sooner had she left then he fell back onto his pillow again. "Why am I so tired?" he muttered to himself as the blissful darkness overtook him once again.
Thanks for all the wishes to get better. I appreciate it. Talking hurts, and my voice is almost completely gone. Result: Writing and Readingmore. ;)
Squeakie: Where did you get your name? It reminds me of some stories my grandfather used to tell me when I was little. :D I'm glad you like the idea. :hug:
Thanks again everyone!
