Disclaimer: I wish I wish I owned Danny Phantom! Desiree: -turns me into Butch Hartman- AHHHHHHHHH! CHANGE ME BACK CHANGE ME BACK! -is changed back-


Summary: Dealing with the attempted suicide of a loved one is never easy. Even for a future physiatrist

Rating: T

Inspiration: Read the last chapter

Pairings: None

Warnings: Read the last chapter

Other Notes: Nope


I remembered when Dad called me to tell me that Danny had attempted suicide. I was sitting at my dorm, doing homework with my roommate, Hannah. We were talking about the upcoming lab when my cell phone rang.

"Go ahead and take it. I'm going to go ahead and grab a cup of coffee from that one shop with the hot cashier," she told me as she got up. I answered my cell as she zipped up her jacket and walked out.

"Jazz, Danny's in the hospital," was the reply to my hello.

"What happened?" I immediately asked, my heart beginning to pound faster with fear. "Is he okay? What happened?"

I prayed that it was just a cut that needed stitches. I hoped that it wasn't a broken arm or leg. I wished that it was being knocked unconscious by Ghost X or the Crate Creeper. I prayed that nothing was seriously wrong, that it was just a large bruise or a small burn. Now that I looked back, I would have given anything for it to be one of those. At least the injuries I was thinking of wasn't an attempted suicide or self-inflicted.

"Danny tried to kill himself," he said a bit softly. He sounded like he had been crying. Dad never cried.

"I'll be there...in…I have no idea but I'll be there soon!" I said, struggling to breath. A large portion of my world had just shattered and I was also beginning to hope that Dad just mistook it for a suicide. For once, I prayed for Dad's stupidity.

I tried to stay reasonable as I quickly tore apart our room in search of my clothing and things I would need.

"Jazz? What are you doing?"

I looked up to see my roommate sipping her coffee.

"Packing. I have to go home," I told her briefly as I found my suitcase and threw in clothing. I don't know if they even matched or if I ended up packing all shirts and no pants or vise versa. My mind was occupied with thoughts burning into my brain. Danny? Suicide? Last time I talked to him he seemed pretty happy! Why would he commit suicide! Sure, he was having a few problems but it was sure not an excuse to commit suicide! Danny? Suicide? Oh god I think I'm going to faint.

"Our lab is tomorrow. You can't just leave!" she said, almost dropping her coffee in amazement. I have never missed a class or a lab to that date.

"I have to go!" I said, suddenly bursting into tears. Hannah patted my back and sat me on the bed, despite my protests. Then Hannah, that amazingly sweet and understanding girl, unpacked my suitcase and calmly folded and put in seven sets of clothing in there, another pair of shoes, my laptop and my toiletries. She then zipped it up and got my purse, making sure my cell phone, wallet and car keys were in there. This entire time I was basically breaking down on the bed. Even the thought of Danny committing suicide made my heart ache, but the knowledge that he tried broke it. I was studying to be a physiatrist. If I couldn't help my own baby brother, how was I supposed to help a total stranger?

Not to mention, was I part of the reason? Did the fact that I made him shorten my phone calls because I was too busy with less important things help drive him? If my phone calls were a little longer, would I have known about the problem? Could I have solved it?

Hannah made me stop crying long enough to tell me that all I needed to do was take my suitcase and bag to the car. It was then when it hit me that she repacked (much more neatly this time) my suitcase and purse for me. I sniffed and thanked her as I wiped away tears. I slowly dragged myself out of my room. As I dragged myself down the hall, I wondered if I was part of the reason. As I slowly loaded my things into the car, I questioned my abilities as a future physiatrist. The entire, long, painful trip from my college to Amity Park, the biggest and most painful question burned into my skull. The question kept repeating itself so loud and so often that not even music could drown it out.

If I had just paid a little more attention, would I have been able to solve the problem before it progressed to suicide?

I had to pull over once on the trip because I ended up crying too hard after harshly answering my own question mentally. A few stares, but nobody asked to see what was wrong.

I arrived that late afternoon, getting lost often even though I was in the familiar streets of Amity Park. The questions of why he tried kept burning into my mind. I realized four hours ago that not even my dad was stupid enough to mistaken an injury for an attempted suicide.

Before I headed to the hospital, I stopped by the flower shop. I think now that it was mainly an excuse. As badly as I wanted to see Danny, I was too scared of not being able to handle the sight of him just yet. My eyes red and puffy, I walked in. I took the scent of fresh flowers deeply as I looked around. Roses. I had to get snow-white roses. Danny loved roses, but he loved snow-white ones the best.

The shopkeeper didn't question my puffy and red eyes, but he seemed to sense that these roses were important, for he took them away and brought really fresh ones out to me. The smell was stronger; they looked so much healthier and beautiful too. I paid for them and left. I sniffed the flowers before setting them gently on the passenger seat.

I then made my way to the hospital. The questions had silenced while in the flower shop, but began to whisper the questions over and over again as I drove and parked. I slung my purse over my shoulder before grabbing the flowers.

The journey to his room seemed like a long one. The entire time, I sniffed the flowers and tried to ignore my scared thoughts. Did he shoot himself? If so, was there going to be a giant, gaping hole in him somewhere? Was he on life support? IVs? I didn't know what to expect, since Dad never mentioned the suicide method so that alone scared me.

As I began to walk in, a nurse was beginning to walk out.

"Can you tell me anything about my brother?" I quickly asked. My grip on the roses tightened, but I ignored the small sharp pains on my hands. It was nothing compared to the pain Danny was probably feeling right now.

"He tried to overdose on sleeping pills, but we got most of the drugs out of his system so he should make a full recovery," the nurse told me, smiling. "From what your mother told me, he seems like a sweet boy. It'd be a shame if he died."

"He's more important to Amity Park and us then he'll ever know," I said truthfully, sniffing loudly in an attempt to hold back the tears. She smiled and made her way down the hall, letting me go inside.

"Hi Danny," I whispered softly to the silent room. Silent aside from Dad's snores and the life support machine.

It wasn't as bad as I thought. Sleeping pills were normally a cry for attention, not very deadly and hard to die from. He didn't seem to have any physical injuries, and when I slowly walked over, there were no cuts on his wrists. So he wasn't cutting or self-injuring himself. That was good. I noticed that he didn't have a breathing tube and was breathing normally through his nose, so I picked a flower to put near his nose.

"The shopkeeper told me that they were really fresh," I whispered to his unconscious body before pulling it away and setting in it the vase. After quickly pulling a few thorns from my hands, I sat in the chair near his feet.

I stared at his unconscious body.

"I'm a horrible sister, aren't I?" I asked softly, watching him. A few stray tears were beginning to form and fall down my cheeks. "Mom and Dad are paying a lot of money for me to become a physiatrist…and I couldn't even see the signs in you…my baby brother…Danny, how am I ever supposed to see them in a stranger when I couldn't even see them in you? I must be such a horrible sister."

The only replies were the beeping of the machine. I wiped my tears on my sleeve and stared at his body. He looked so pale and sick.

"If my phone calls were a little longer…do you think I would have seen the signs?" I whispered to him. "If I wasn't so caught up other things, do you think I would have been able to notice how upset and depressed you are?"

I just sniffed loudly again and let more tears fall. Danny shifted slightly in his sleep, taking a deep breath before it turned back to the slow, regular patterns of sleep. I smiled and stood so that I could kiss his forehead.

"I love you Danny. So does Mom and Dad. We love you so much. I'm so sorry I wasn't good enough to see the signs in my own brother. Maybe I'm not meant to be a physiatrist…"

I sat back down and rested my head on his hospital bed. I closed my eyes. Somehow, seeing my baby brother alive and on the road to recovery eased the burning questions into a small burn. Enough for me to rest in peace.


I woke up to the nurse asking my brother if he was hungry. I heard no reply from him, but I woke up anyway. I rubbing my eyes before noticing him. He stared at me as my eyes watered up at him. Before I knew it, I had burst into tears and latched onto him. I asked him several times: Why did he do it? Was I part of the reasons? Could I have stopped it?

He didn't reply. He just held onto me as I cried. When I finally had myself together, I began to pester him about it. It took me an hour before my questions cause me to become furious and upset. Why wouldn't he tell me? A mixture of angry and upset tears began to come out as I turned on my heel to stomp out the door. The second I reached outside, I began to cry again. I think I cried more in the last twenty-four hours then I had in months.

I cried softly to myself.


He still wouldn't answer. Danny was willing to talk to me, just not about his attempted suicide. After the forty-eight hours were up, he came home and he started therapy. I began to see an improvement. He seemed to be a tad happier, despite the fact that the therapist was telling us that he barely spoke during the sessions. I didn't care. He seemed happier. He even talked to me, although very briefly, about his suicide attempt. All he did was promise that he'd never try suicide again.

The second time I heard about his suicide attempt, I literally broke down in the middle of the grocery store. I got weird stares from everybody and so many people laughed or rolled their eyes at me. I knew that they were thinking that I got dumped by a boyfriend or some other stupid teenage drama. I would have loved to see the look on their faces if they knew that it was because my brother attempted suicide for the second time, despite his promise to me.

I was horrified and devastated at first, especially after hearing the weapon of choice. Then I was boiling mad. Beyond furious. He lied to me. He LIED to me about his promise to try and recover!

I left my cart there and ran to my car. I drove to the hospital and sat with my crying mother as we waited. My dad kept making coffee excuses, but I knew it was because he needed to cry in private. I was too furious, although upset, to really cry. He lied about his promise. I couldn't believe he'd lie about something that big. Well, he technically lied about his ghost powers, but he had a good reason! He had NO reason to do this type of lie.

Three months after he shot himself, he was declared dead from the infections it caused. My mom and I cried like crazy in the waiting room when Vlad came out and told us the grave news. I hated myself. I hated myself for not being able to see the signs as a future physiatrist. I hated myself for not being there in his final moments, but him being forced to spend his last few moments on Earth as a live human with Vlad. If I wasn't such an awful sister, I would have seen the signs and prevented this. God, I'm so horrible.

To make things worse, Vlad told my parents Danny's secret and showed him the proof. This caused them to become a distressed mess. Dad couldn't even eat fudge without remembering how Danny would help him smuggle some and Mom was unable to look at most video games without thinking about how much Danny loved them. Neither could invent ghost weapons without the memories of hunting down Danny Phantom, their son.

Vlad and I ended up planning the funeral. Mom and Dad were too emotionally messed up in order to do so, and I needed him because I sometimes ended up becoming a mess too. I was pleased at how so many people came to share their grief. Nobody knew he was Danny Phantom but us. It was now a family and old college friend secret.

I had Danny cremated, and put the ashes in my room. Mom didn't want them in the living room, in case a young cousin were to mess with them, but I suspect it was because even know, the site of his ashes still makes her tear up. I transferred to a closer college. I'm not sure why, but I did.

We searched the Ghost Zone. No trace of him. We cried at the thought of him not even being back as a ghost.

I still wonder, even to this day. Even though it's been almost seven years since his suicide and I'm now a graduated college student with a great job and a fiancé.

If I had simply paid more attention…would I have seen the signs?