When Danny left, Jazz got up and went into the bathroom that was on the first floor. She had thrown up the water that she had just drunk. When she got done, she went back into the kitchen and saw that Vladimir was there. When she made eye contact with Vladimir, she nodded, acknowledging that his was there. He waved back; concern was in his face and eyes. Jazz grabbed her glass and made another glass of water, then grabbed some crackers and sat back down at the table next to Vladimir. She began snacking on the crackers. She thought it would help, it was so far working.

"Why are you here?" She asked him weakly and raspy.

"I was concerned for your well being. I still am." He answered honestly. Jazz didn't respond to that. They sat there in silence for a few moments. Not really in silence, Jazz's snacking upon crackers echoed in the kitchen. "Did you really make that doctors appointment?" He asked. Jazz nodded. "When is it?"

"Twelve thirty." She answered.

"Good. You should have made the appointment sooner."

"I thought it was just the common cold." She spoke in her raspy voice.

"I understand that." He said. He looked like he wanted to say something else but Jazz's mother had walked into the kitchen. "Hello, Maddie. How are you doing this morning?"

"Fine." She answered quickly. "Jazz, are you still feeling queasy?" Both Jazz and Vladimir thought that was a stupid question to ask. Jazz nodded in agreement; her stomach was becoming too sensitive, even a small nod was making her be on the verge of puking. "I'll make you something with more nutrients and easy on the stomach."

"Danny had to go out." Jazz said, her sounding a tiny bit better.

"At this hour? Where? With who?"

"He went to go get Sam and they went to the police station."

Maddie dropped a pot. "Why does he have to be there? What is going on? Is it ghosts?"

"He didn't know." Jazz answered as the nausea became intense. "And probably not on the ghosts. Excuse me." Jazz stood up and went back into the bathroom. For a good ten minutes once again, puked up what little she had just eaten. When she returned her mom and Vladimir were still in the kitchen and there was a bowl of soup where she was sitting. She sat down, feeling light headed. "Thanks." Jazz began to eat with caution.

"I should make you an appointment or take you to a doctor without one." Maddie said, looking concern.

"I already made one. It's today at twelve thirty." Jazz said. The soup made her realize that she was hungrier than she thought she was.

"That is good." Her mother spoke in a motherly tone. "I will take you."

"It is alright, Maddie. I will take her." Vladimir volunteered.

"What about your business meeting?" Jazz's mother asked.

"It's not until tomorrow." He answered.

"What's not until tomorrow?" Jazz's father came into the kitchen as he spoke. He was wearing pajamas over his obnoxious orange jumpsuit. Jazz rolled her eyes as she ate in silence, adding a few crackers to the soup.

"My business meeting is tomorrow." Vladimir answered.

"Are we really having soup for breakfast?" Jazz's father asked.

"Only Jazz is. She is sick." Maddie answered.

"Is it ghosts?"

"No, it's probably the flu." Jazz answered. Then she had the sudden craving for peanut butter and bananas but at the same time that craving made her feel even more nauseous.

As Maddie began to cook a breakfast for the rest of family, the front door opened and closed. Danny and Sam, looking grim, came into the kitchen. Sam looked around. Jazz raised an eyebrow, usually she make some sort of sarcastic joke about everyone being here.

"I'm home and I brought Sam over." Danny announced.

"You left the house?" Jack asked.

"Yes, I did. I had to go to the police station."

"Why? Was it ghosts?" Jack asked.

"No ghosts. The detective had to inform us of something, which we will tell you later." Jazz say that Danny squeezed Sam's hand. Both of their eyes were red and puffy. Had they been crying? "We will be upstairs, in my room, with the door open." Danny informed them all.

"Very well." Maddie said as Danny and Sam disappeared from Jazz's view. What was going on? "Here Jazz. It's something a bit more solid." Maddie said as she gave Jazz a plate of toast with butter and cinnamon and sugar on top. Jazz nodded in appreciation with a weak smile. Maddie smiled and went back to cooking.

When Jazz finished both the soup and toast, she put the dishes in the sink and went upstairs. She had to pass Danny's room to get to hers, she saw that they were cuddling and holding each other like if they let go one of them was going to go away. Jazz stopped looking at went into her room. She laid down on her bed, going into the fetal position. It helped somewhat of the nausea. She heard a glass being put down on her bedside table, it made her jump. It was Vladimir. The sudden movement caused her have a huge wave of nausea, like she was on the verge of puking; but when she laid back down, it settled down a bit. Vladimir sat down on the floor and held Jazz's hand. "We'll get caught." Jazz whispered.

"I don't care. Now go to sleep, I'll wake you in plenty of time for the appointment." Without any hesitation, Jazz fell asleep.

ZzZzZzZz Danny

We lay there, not saying a word. We had nothing to say to each other. As soon as we left the police station Sam had to do everything she could to stop from going after Paulina and co and rip them to shreds. How were we supposed to tell our respective families? He didn't have to . . . but he did. He had other options. He could have done anything else, but why that? Sam squeezed my hand hard as she went into another fit of tears. I held her closer, if that was even possible, until she settled down again. How are we suppose to deal with this? How are we suppose to move on?

"Sam?" I whispered, ten minutes after she started crying again.

"Yes, Danny?" She whispered back, she sounded tired.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Tucker. What about you?"

"Tucker as well." Sam rolled over and looked at me. She continued using my arm as a pillow.

"Do you have any theories as to why he did it? I mean, he had other options besides that."

"I've been thinking about that since we got the news. All I can think of is that Tucker probably had more going on besides just that. We don't know because he never told us." I explained in a whisper and as best I could. "Does that make since?" I asked.

"Perfectly."

"How are we going to tell our families?" I asked.

"I don't know. That was cruel of his parents to have us do, but I understand why. They lost their son. Their only son."

"I know." I heard loud footsteps outside my door. I sat up. Sam made a "hmmm?" sound. "Hello." I said to my parents.

"Danny what is going on? Why did you have to go the police station? Why is Sam still here? Why are you too up in your room and in the same bed no less?" My mother asked, sounding both concerned and angered. Sam sat up as my mother was interrogating us.

"A detective had to tell us something in person." I answered. "Sam is here and in my bed because it is comforting for the both of us."

"What did the detective have to say? Was it about ghosts?" My dad asked.

I squeezed Sam's hand. "No, it was about Tucker." Sam answered for me.

"What about Tucker? Is he alright?" My mom asked.

"And does it have anything to do with ghosts?" My dad asked.

"No, it had nothing to do with ghosts. Tucker, he," Sam burst into tears and held her close. "he's dead."

"What?" My mom had the same reaction as I did.

"Did ghosts have anything to do with it?" My dad asked angrily. I could see the tears forming in his eyes.

"No, dad. No ghosts. Tuckers dead because he killed himself." I couldn't handle it. I burst into tears. I thought I was doing pretty well. Damn you Tucker! Damn you! My dad and mom left us, and once again, held onto each other like we would drown if we didn't.

ZzZzZzZz

"So what are your symptoms?" The elder doctor asked.

"Throwing up, it's worst in the morning. I ache a lot and often. I'm overly sensitive to foods. I'm tired. My emotions are everywhere. I'm thirsty, but that could be just from the throwing up. My nose is stuffed or feels that way. It feels like when I cough, I'm trying to cough up my lungs. That's about it, from what I can remember."

"How long have you been feeling like this?"

"About two weeks."

The doctor looked at Jazz in disbelief. "Why didn't you come in sooner?" He asked curiosity in his voice.

"I thought it was the common cold."

"Fair enough. I'm going to draw some blood, just in case it's not something more, and have you pee in a cup as well."

"Okay." Jazz agreed.

The doctor got up, with his back facing Jazz, and went through a cabinet. When he turned around he pulled out a needle, an alcohol swab, and a bandage. Jazz automatically rolled up her left arm sleeve. The doctor, put on some gloves, opened alcohol swab, and rubbed it against Jazz's arm. He stuck the needle into Jazz and withdrew Jazz's blood. He quickly capped the needle and put the bandage on Jazz. "I'll be right back, in the mean time go pee in a cup." He chuckled at some joke that Jazz did not understand. He went into cupboard again and withdrew a few items. He pulled off a piece of tape and wrote something that Jazz could not see and stuck the tape on the cup. Jazz always thought that they had those, and needles someplace else. She guessed that it's probably recommended but not enforced. Jazz mentally shrugged it off. "Here." He said with a smile. Jazz took the cup. Her first initial and last name was on the tape. "The bathroom is right down the hall to the left. When you are all done, put it on the little cubby. It'll say 'urine samples only'. Leave it there. Then come back into this room."

"Okay." Jazz said as she got off the table. She followed the doctor out of the room. However, he went one way and she went another. She found the bathroom. Jazz always felt silly doing this, but she had to. So Jazz urinated into the cup and put it in the cubby. She washed her hands and arms really well. Jazz then left the bathroom and headed down to the room that she was in. She had to pass the entrance to this section of the office and she wondered how Vladimir was doing. He must be bored out of his mind. Jazz entered the room; she went straight to the table, got up and laid down on the table. Walking to the bathroom and back had made her nausea worse. Lying down did help tremendously.

"Ms. Fenton?" She heard the doctors voice.

"What?" Jazz said groggily as she opened her eyes. Everything was blurry. She sat up as she rubbed her eyes.

"You fell asleep waiting for me."

"How long was I out?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"It doesn't feel like fifteen minutes. Feels like three hours." Jazz said.

He chuckled. "I have a possibility of your health. Do you want to hear it or wait until it is confirmed or denied?"

"I'll hear it now." Jazz said.

"You may be pregnant as well with the flu."

"What?"

"You have the flu and you may be pregnant."

"When will this be confirmed?"

"In about two weeks, you will be hearing from someone about it."

"What is the percentage that I can be pregnant?"

"It is at least sixty five percent."

"What about the flu?"

"That should be going away soon."

"How soon is soon?"

"Within five days, or at least that it should be. If it doesn't go away, come back and see me."

"Okay. Are we all done?"

"Yes, I think we are."

"Good." He laughed and then left. Jazz got off the table, the nausea hitting her again from the swift movement. After a moment of deep breathings, she left the room. When she left the area with the rooms, she saw that Vladimir was already paying for her medical bill; he was way too generous. Jazz went up to him. "Hey." She said.

"Hey." He said back with a smile.

"Here you go sir." A pretty nurse said as she handed Vladimir some papers. She winked at him as she spoke, "have a nice day." Jazz was jealous. She wished that she could flirt like that.

"Feeling any better?" Vladimir asked, ignoring the nurse.

"No, but I have good news for you."

"What is it?" He asked. Jazz noticed that the flirty nurse was listening in.

"Some place else."

"Okay." He said with a smile, but threw a cautious look towards the nurse, who was not hiding that she was listening in. They left the office. "So what's the news?"

"I may be pregnant." Vladimir stopped at stared at Jazz with disbelief. "There is a sixty-five percent possibility that I am pregnant. I will get the confirming or denying phone in about two weeks. I think having the flu really through off the symptoms of the pregnancy."

Vladimir grabbed her hand and pulled her into the nearby alley. He pushed her up against the wall, and kissed her. Jazz kissed right now. Vladimir knew that he would be getting sick from this, but he didn't care. The woman that he loved was pregnant with his child. He was over the moon in joy and happiness.

When he pulled back, he asked "what about your parents?"

"I'll tell them. Eventually. I'm just not sure when."

"Good idea."

ZzZzZzZz

So whose feels did I destroy with chapter eleven and most of chapter twelve? Sorry if I did. Like I said, I'm not a Tucker hater, it's all part of the story.

Reviews please.

Thank you if you do.