Oy, I can't wait for this! Now, as I said last chapter (and purrbaby101 was observant enough—or she has the CD—to go and check out the next song) you would find a very interesting chapter title for this one. Well, now you know! Have fun, dearies! Ay, the chapter name is damn long!

Unlike another story, Danny is going straight there. No fighting about it. I just have to speed it up instead of the other story, which was made for suspense.

DISCLAIMER: what do you think? NO for both of them.

RATED: T for obvious reasons. If you've read the other three chapters (which I presume you did), you'd know where I'm going here.

WARNING: do NOT read this chapter if you hate fluff! This chapter is going to be major fluff. It's going to be so fluffy that if you end up in heaven after reading this, it'll seem like dirt and weeds up there.

Pretype Start: September 11, 2005, 10:18 pm

Pretype End: September 14, 2005, 7:00 pm

Chapter 4

"You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison"

Danny laid on his bed, going over some thoughts. He never did anything else, even when he had to fight ghosts. He just shoved them in the thermos first thing and resumed his deep thoughts. Jazz often did the same, but walls separated them. However, this tangible object seemed to only make their connection stronger; they were on the same train of thought and it almost seemed like they telekinetically spoke to each other.

The doorbell rang, and no one spoke. In other words, it meant that Danny had to go get it.

Sighing, he trudged off the bed and opened the door. There two men in blue shirts, black pants held up by utility belts full of small weapons, black leather shoes, and handcuffs, a badge pinned to their shirts.

"Um, what can I do for you?" asked Danny as politely as he could, which was hard. Two policemen showed up at his doorstep. Sounding polite is not easy.

"Come with us," said the first one, clicking on the handcuffs. Danny tried to resist, but it didn't work, so instead, he yelled.

"HELP!" he bellowed. Three family members rushed down the staircase to him, where the two policemen stood.

"What's the problem, officers?" asked Maddie worriedly.

"It turns out your son here has assaulted Vlad Masters twice."

"What? No way!" said Jazz.

"Not Vlad!" said Jack in horror.

"Oh," said Maddie plainly.

"Who's the witness?" asked Jazz.

"This man," said the second policeman, pointing to a pale man. Danny instantly recognized him from two places: New Orleans and the dinner party. He was in the crowd at New Orleans and was down the hall, going to the elevator, at the dinner party.

"WHAT?" asked Danny angrily. "But didn't he see Vlad assault me first?"

The pale man shook no. Danny sighed angrily and walked into the police car, his anger melting away into sadness. What would happen to him? What would his sentence be? And most importantly, what would happen to everyone else?

The long ride to the police station ended, where the two policemen shoved Danny out of the car and led him to a cell.

As the policemen walked away from his cell, he didn't even know what to feel: anger, sorrow, or what? Tucker was in the hospital, about to commit s u i c i d e, Sam was…what was Sam doing at the moment?

Danny couldn't believe himself! He didn't even know what Sam had been doing this whole time! In fact, the last time he saw her, it was…when Tucker was rushed to the hospital. How could he not remember what she was doing? What kind of an ass was he?

But right now…what was he to do? Who would come and find him? Would anyone beside his family know he was here? Probably not…the Foleys have enough on their hands right now and the Mansons haven't a clue about me since then. As for everyone else…would they notice his absence from school? Again, a probably not. Tucker and Sam were the only ones who ever noticed if he was gone, but they were both out or preoccupied with something else, he was sure of it.

Days passed, then weeks, and eventually that time spanned into months, and it ended up a year. Nothing had ever felt longer for him…time had gone slower than a snail and hours seemed like weeks for Danny. For how long could an assault land you in jail? That ass must have embellished it all. Must've said I pointed a gun to his head and shot or some other bull like that…

All that time, the only thing that kept him from saying, "SO LONG, world!" was one person. Only one person, although she never bothered to visit him. He was a hopeful, ridiculous boy, even at eighteen, which, he reminded himself, would no longer be his age, as in a week or two his birthday was coming up. Only one person has kept him going.

Sam.

And that person would be the only one he'd ever feel for. She was everything to him and more. She helped him in troubled times, more than Tucker ever could. She always shone to him, and in his dreams he desperately hoped he would eventually kiss her. He always wanted to know what she would do every day, and supported everything she represented.

Sam was the perfect g i r l for him, and he loved her so much. He had waited so long in that cell, those barred poles, only to wait to see that wonderful, beautiful, elegant face of hers. He wanted to hear that song of a voice of hers. He wanted to feel her warmth again. If he could see her just once more, it would make his life complete and he wouldn't care if he made it out of jail or not: if he saw Sam, he knew that everything would be okay.

After a year behind those wretched and cruel metal sticks, Danny was beginning to lose his mind and was just barely clutching on to sanity. His fingers were slipping, and he would have let go six months ago if he hadn't kept praying for that angel stuck on earth: Sam. He'd be totally lost at the moment if he had never met her, and the first person to visit him, even though he highly doubted at this point anyone would come, would listen to the boy's rantings about her and would get the desperate request to drag her there.

By then, the twinkle in his eyes had long gone and his hair was no longer shiny nor was it in it's usual organized but messy spikes. Now it had grown down past his ears and so messy that his dump of a room would be Jazz's closet compared to his mane. His clothes were tattered and now hung very loosely on his form. He had stopped eating much when no one visited him, let alone Sam, for six months.

He would give anything for anyone to visit him.

And eventually, his wish came true.

One week before his nineteenth birthday, a 20-year-old young lady with short red hair and teal eyes came to visit him. Danny usually spent his time looking at the light the sun cast on the wall, wondering deeply about how the world really worked when she disturbed his thoughts.

"Danny!" she said, gripping the bars of the cell. He shook out of his thoughts.

"Wha…" he said. "Who are you?"

"Don't you remember me?" she said tearfully. "I'm your sister, Jazz!"

"Jazz?" he asked as if it was unfamiliar. "OH, Jazz, oh my God, what do I do? When am I going to be let out?"

"Soon, Danny, very soon."

"Jazz," he said, his now dark eyes tearing, "do you know how long ago I would've lost my sanity in this torture chamber?"

Jazz shook her head.

"I keep wondering! Will they inject me with some crap? Will they shock me with the chair? What punishments await me? Do you know the only thing I've been clutching on to the past year? The only little dreg of hope I have left?" he said in a sudden whisper.

Jazz shook her head, tortured seeing her brother like this. She remembered how a year ago he would hold her close and comfort her. She remembered how warm he was, how soothing he felt. He was like a teddy bear, but a living one. He knew exactly what to do when someone needed help. And seeing him in need now was k i l ling her.

"What is it?" she said shakily.

"Sam," he said hoarsely. "Sam's been keeping me alive, even though she's probably forgotten me a long time ago."

Jazz stayed silent. She really didn't know. She hadn't seen Sam for quite a while.

"What have you been up to for an entire year that prevented you from coming? It tore me apart, waiting here for hours, clutching those poles, waiting for anyone to come. Other people come and gawk at me as if I'm a slug! Or worse, dirt!"

Jazz still stayed silent, racking her brain for answers. How was a sister supposed to fix a broken brother? She needed to make it up to him, but she couldn't. She was a bad sister, but that didn't stop her from racking every single thing in her brain about psychology for her brother as if it were all in file cabinets.

"Had I not met Sam, I'd be saying that Danny Fenton works at a morgue inside his own dissected mind. Just the thought of seeing her again…it lifts my heart and that's my only desire now. Please, Jazz!" He scrambled to her level, also grabbing the bars. They nearly touched noses. "Bring Sam! I'm desperate!"

A tear crawled out of his eye and fell off the tip of his nose, staining the floor like the several others that had before.

"I-I can't, Danny," she said. She didn't know what to do anymore. She had to console him somehow, but how could she?

"Why not, Jazz?" he asked fearfully, but firmly.

"I haven't seen her in quite a while."

"You don't know what happened to her?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"What if she's gone?" he whispered shakily.

"No, Danny, I know she isn't. She still goes to school."

"And what about Tucker?" he asked.

"Out of the hospital, good as new." Jazz forced a small smile. Danny did the same.

"Is life still the same?"

"If you mean that Dad tries activating a ghost gadget while Mom has to run around fixing it, yes." Danny let out a small chuckle.

"So I'm getting out soon?" asked Danny hopefully, his eyes gaining some hope in them.

"Yes," assured Jazz and gave him a hug as well as she could from the other side of the bars. "Look, Danny, I have to go, I'm really sorry I haven't visited in a year."

From how she felt, Jazz felt like she was the prisoner herself and Danny was…she didn't know. But he was still in worse condition than her. Permanent damage had been done, and he only wanted one thing now that no one could give him.

"But I'm warning you now," she said quietly as she walked out of the station and looked back at it. "Don't be surprised at what you find."

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LYRICS TO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DO TO GUYS LIKE US IN PRISON:

In the middle of a gunfight. In the center of a restaurant. They say. Come with your arms raised high. Well they're never gonna get me. Like a bullet through a flock of doves. To wage this war against your faith in me. Your life will never be the same. On our mother's eyes say a prayer. Say a prayer. Now, but I can't. And I don't know. How we're just two men as god had made us. Well I can't. Well I can. Too much too late. Or just not enough of this. Pain in my heart for your dying wish. I'll kiss your lips again. they all cheat at cards and checkers are lost. My cellmate's a k i l ler. They make me do pushups in drag. But nobody cares if you're losing yourself am I losing myself and well I miss my mom! Will they give me the chair? Or lethal injection swing from a rope if you dare. Oh nobody knows all the trouble I seen. Life is but a dream for the dead and well I can't go down by myself but I'll go down with my friends. Take it like a man.

Chapter 4

Chapter 5: when my friend asks for chapter 4…

Yeah, my friend's now a chapter behind. I love this one so much! Very emotional. It makes me feel so bad! I can't believe what I'm doing in the next few chapters! Prepare for one of the few climaxes you'll find. There's one in chapter 10…whee! I love screwing with you guys! And be happy! It's a school night and way past my bedtime. About 45 minutes.

It broke my heart to do that conversation…Please tell me exactly how it made you feel and if it was a change of direction from my usual emotions in this story? Tell me what it really is…or express it as best you can. I'm dying to know if I got the right mood…