"Danny, the whole thing about truces are that you need to ask us for help," his mother scolded him, hands on her hips.
Danny stood his ground, arms folded across from his mother in their living room. Jack watched the both of them carefully, wondering which side would win in this battle of wits. Jazz watched from over her book occasionally, silently amused. "And I did get for help," Danny replied tartly. "Sam, Tucker and even Jazz!"
"I heard that," Jazz grumbled with a narrow glare. "I don't remember you complaining at the warehouse where we fought that army of Creepwalkers."
Danny rolled his eyes. "Sleepwalkers," he corrected.
"An army?" Jack asked with a frown.
Maddie sighed. "Danny, we're supposed to be a team, why are you shutting us out?"
Danny's left eyebrow twitched upward incredulously. "Did you really want me, your fifteen year old son to have gone into your dreams? The same dreams that were placed there by a creepy dream ghost who made them exactly what we wanted. With no control of what I would see and would never unsee?"
They stood staring at each other for a couple minutes at his question.
Jack coughed. "Good call there, son." He looked at Maddie with empathetic eyes. "I think we can let him off the hook." Maddie pursed her lips in thought, before nodding.
Danny shuddered. "Good, I have my own to deal with."
"Which was what exactly?" Jazz asked mischievously. "'Cause I remember you explicitly saying you couldn't remember what woke you out of Nocturn's sleep helmet."
Danny turned red. "I don't," he replied very quickly.
"You seemed awfully close to -"
"Jazz!"