Hi!

Thanks and love are extended to my five super cool reviewers, Diamond Raider, Funkatron, Meagainsttheworld, Epona Harper, and cordria. I'm extremely thankful for the support and comments, and remember to throw stuff at me if I do something too stupid. I'd rather have the bruise than write badly.

For those who have read and not reviewed yet or have just found this piece: I look forward to hearing from you. I love reviews, they're like candy...or something. Anywho, I love reviews, so if you see something to review, please go ahead. I'll listen and answer. That said, here's chapter two.

Ta,

HiddenAuthor

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Chapter 2 – Alternates

"Clockwork. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Danny asked with a touch of amusement. The ancient time spirit smiled sardonically from his seat.

"Just here for a friendly game."

Danny's relationship with the powerful ghost had undergone a lot of turmoil since he lost Danielle. Especially during the staged funeral. Every time someone had come to say what an unexpected tragedy it was, the time ghost had flashed before his eyes. Despite all the good that had come from the ghost's meddling, Danny wasn't sure he could ever forgive him for his role in Dani's condition. But Clockwork had worked very hard to rebuild their friendship, going so far as to drop the occasional forecast for Dani's recovery. While he couldn't tell Danny the future, he could give him the odds, and the ghost boy could compare them with what his parents tried to help narrow down what worked and what didn't. While not taking back his actions, Clockwork's sincere efforts to make things right had succeeded in repairing their friendship, though it was not unchanged. Danny now knew that while Clockwork was both powerful and knowledgeable, he did not actually know everything and could be every bit as uncertain as anyone else, even if he didn't show it often. Knowing this, he doubted he could ever be in awe of the ancient spirit as he used to, but his friend seemed to enjoy being able to drop the 'god' act around his young charge and sort out his confusion with someone who talked back. Their new relationship was based largely around a mutual respect, rather than a sort of reverence, and Danny had to admit he liked spending time with Clockwork much more because of it.

Back in January Danny had come to Clockwork on a friendly visit and found the time ghost looking slightly uncomfortable.

'Danny, I cannot tell you very much, but certain futures are becoming increasingly more likely. Futures where you will need to be prepared to succeed.'

Danny quirked an eyebrow at that. 'Prepared?'

Clockwork sighed, sitting back in his usual lounge chair. 'You need to work on your strategy skills. Vlad may be insane, and currently frozen, but he was not entirely wrong when he said some knowledge on the subject would be beneficial. And he won't be frozen forever.' Danny snorted at this.

'That chess garbage? He's been going on and on about that for as long as I've known him, and he still hasn't succeeded. At anything.' Clockwork smiled.

'True. We will play chess, but not exclusively. While Vlad is right that a great deal of strategy is involved in chess, it is not a perfect metaphor for life. No matter the arrangement, chess pieces will always move the same way. So Vlad expects the people he's manipulating to do the same, which is why he always fails. While I recommend we play chess to improve your logic skills, for true random strategy I recommend a different game.' The time ghost whipped out a deck of cards and shuffled, grinning. 'Do you play poker?'

Clockwork had chosen his games well. While chess helped Danny to learn to plan ahead, Poker was geared towards knowing your opponent; his tells, his habits, what hands he might be hiding. And one of the other benefits of the card game was that for some reason, Clockwork could not accurately predict the results of a shuffle. Something about momentary friction and minute hand tremors. The two had been playing each other for months now, sometimes in the time ghost's study, sometimes in a special room prepared for the powerful guest near Danny's ghost door. Danny usually lost, but he was gradually improving, much to Clockwork's pleasure and slight dismay. He wasn't perfect, and one thing he hated was being wrong when he predicted something.

"Straight, king high." The ancient ghost smiled smugly, wrapping his arm around the pot and pulling it towards himself. Danny slapped his hand down on his opponent's arm, stopping it. Grinning, he laid down his hand.

"Full house, aces over fives." Clockwork groaned, rubbing his temples, as Danny pulled the sizable pot towards himself.

"I could have sworn you had a flush. You seemed far too confident." Danny shrugged.

"I usually look confident when I have a good hand. You just always assume I have less than my looks would indicate." The time ghost grumbled.

"I swear, if luck were a ghost power…"

His friend shifted uncomfortably. "It is." He said shortly. "Bad luck, anyway. Don't know about good." His face fell. "How's Johnny?"

Clockwork fell back with a sigh, absently shuffling the deck. "His existence will continue. But Dan's rage was intense. His back was broken in five places, slowly. His arms and legs are at very odd angles, and he has no use of any of his limbs. However, it does not seem to be true paralysis, and he may recover eventually. I have heard that he is using his shadow creatively to manipulate his body, though the bad luck he absorbs tends to draw dangerous ghost animals. Kitty hasn't left his side the entire time." Danny nodded mutely and accepted his cards. Garbage.

"Is anyone else that bad off?" He asked quietly as he requested three replacement cards.

Dan's rampage had devastated the ghost zone, and many were still in the process of rebuilding both their homes and bodies. While he certainly didn't like most of the ghosts this had happened to, he wouldn't have wished such a horrible thing to happen to them. It was stupid, but he couldn't help feeling slightly guilty. He and his alternate future self shared the same hates, and in his other self they had been painfully expressed. Danny couldn't help but feel that if he had only tried to make peace with them, this might not have happened. More bad news, his new hand still had nothing.

"No." Clockwork responded soberly. "Technus and Skulker seem to have reached a truce, and are helping each other to recover. Ember might never sing again, but I've heard she still writes songs, and Ghost Writer is teaching her to create poetry. It's not singing, but she may find something new to enjoy. Klemper hasn't been seen, but his lair is still there, so I assume he's hiding while he recovers. It seems very little permanent damage was done." He set down a sizable opening bet, and Danny matched it, trying to keep a straight face for reasons beyond poker.

"And Dani?" Clockwork suddenly smiled.

"Well," he said nonchalantly, "if I happened to be checking the time stream before I came, and I happened to check the futures of you and those close to you as I often do, I may have seen several negative futures vanish after you started that temperature experiment."

Danny grinned. "Really?"

The time ghost doubled his bet, and Danny quickly folded. Smiling in satisfaction, he raked in his winnings and showed a worthless hand.

"I still bluff better than you. But I suppose I've had more practice. Yes, really. The odds went from about 52-48 to 56-44 in her favor, the most dramatic shift yet. Your parents really are amazing. Incidentally, I heard they've developed a ghost-proofing material. The odds they would succeed were actually quite small; my chips were on Axion figuring it out first. Still, every new technology helps, right?"

Danny nodded, wincing slightly as his head throbbed in memory. The side of Clockwork's mouth curled up and he dealt another hand.

"So," Danny asked as he looked at a decent hand, trying to sound casual, "is that 'strategy' future still coming?" Clockwork paused, and then nodded slowly.

"Yes. In more ways than one. I can't give you any specifics, Danny; I never could. Just remember that things have a way of working out if you can find a good plan."

"Weird." Danny said, taking the pot. "Tucker said the exact same thing. Still, I guess I can always come to you for advice when I need it." The older ghost paused for a moment, and seemed about to say something. Then, he sighed and sat back as he placed his chips.

"You should learn to be confident in yourself Danny. You don't really need me."

The two spent the next few hours playing poker in the permanent ethereal moonlight of Danny's lair, the nearby fountains creating a pleasant, if eerie, echo around them. Finally, after a quick last-minute chess match, Clockwork bid his young friend farewell and headed out, promising to meet with him again shortly. Smiling at the good news, Danny headed out and finished his math work. After replacing his alarm clock, the ghost boy drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

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'Danielle! Don't do this!' Danny watched helplessly once again as his brave, desperate cousin threw her head forward and froze his powerful enemy solid, tears falling down his face. Sadness gave way to confusion as he watched his enemy. He wasn't in the ice. Something else was inside. Floating to his feet, the ghost boy walked over and brushed flecks of ice off of the strange, smooth object.

It was a mirror. The young ghost watched in horror as his reflection rippled and blurred in the glass, and found himself gazing at Dan Phantom, laughing at him in his terror.

'They say a ghost's lair is a place they go to find themselves.' He said, smiling evilly, and gave a half bow. 'Well, here I am.'

Terrified and furious, Danny punched the mirror as hard as he could. The glass shattered with a deafening explosion, tiny fragments clinking onto the stone floor below. The ghost boy's look of satisfaction turned once again to terror as he looked at his hand. His blue hand. With cruel, pointed nails, red with Valerie's blood. His swirling cape could be seen billowing around his feet. Confused and ashamed, he turned to run, and froze, staring down.

Danielle was glaring at him darkly, standing between him and a helpless cowering dark-haired boy. 'No,' she said back to him, 'I'm going to protect you now.'

And the ghost girl threw her head forward and screamed, even as her body fell apart.

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"Ahhh!" Jazz sat bolt upright in bed, eyes shooting open. A moment later, recognition dawned on her face and she quietly walked across the hall into her brother's room. Danny was tossing and turning in his sleep, moaning. Every so often he would float up off of the bed in his agitation. The temperature was ice cold, and several small knick knacks were hovering in the air.

"Danny." She whispered quietly, rushing over and easing her brother down onto his bed, gently gripping his hand. Taking her other hand up from her side, she carefully placed its contents in his arms. It was the Phantom plushy she'd bought at the Amusement Park, after Danielle had first entered their lives. She'd never used it herself; even in her own rare insecure moments, she only ever used her old stuffed bear. But Danny clung to the small thing for dear life, unconsciously seeming to beg for Phantom to save him from his bad dreams. Jazz frowned sadly. He was always saving others, but who was supposed to save him?

"I will." She answered herself quietly. The older girl absently ran her free hand through his messy hair. Her brother was drenched in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably.

"Dani," he mumbled incoherently. "I won't…" His big sister could only sit there, holding his hand and ruffling his hair softly as he thrashed about under his covers in yet another night terror, desperately holding on to his stuffed protector, crying into his pillow. "I won't." He moaned. "Please." All of the floating objects abruptly dropped. His body jerked one last time, and fell limp. His breathing steadied, and the temperature slowly began to rise again. Jazz stood up and pulled the stuffed object from her brother's arms. He seemed to protest for a minute, then calmed back down, wrapping his arms around his pillow instead. Yawning slightly, Jazz added ten minutes to Danny's alarm and went back to bed.

Danny had been having nightmares like this off and on for months, but whatever trauma caused them, things only seemed to be getting worse. The interruption to normal, healthy sleep was starting to affect him. Jazz, too, for that matter, but if she could help her brother get through this, she was willing to miss some sleep. He never remembered the dream when awake, which made her think he was desperately repressing whatever it was. At first, she'd thought it was watching Dani melt before his eyes; that would give anyone nightmares. But he should have at least stopped having such terrible dreams by now. It had been over six months since Dan had been destroyed, but if anything, Danny was having more nightmares. She just couldn't understand it. Lost in her own uncomfortable thoughts, Jazz settled back into bed to sleep. She didn't even notice that she was still holding the stuffed Phantom protectively against her chest.

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Danny seemed none the worse for wear the next morning as he changed places with Jazz in the bathroom. The older girl gave him a reassuring pat on the back and ignored his curious look as she untoweled her hair. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she saw him unconsciously flinch when he turned towards the mirror. Lost in thought, she absently went downstairs to have some tea.

Danny for his part had been seriously freaked out by the random physical contact; he was going to have to watch Jazz for a while, she looked like she was losing sleep. After a discrete look over at his sister to check how she looked, he quickly grabbed some toast and took a seat.

"So, how'd the temperature thing go?" He asked casually. Jack beamed over at him excitedly.

"Great! At a higher temperature the shocks worked much better! The little chunks of…er… you, tried to solidify. They didn't quite manage, but it's a good sign!" Maddie smiled and kissed her husband of the forehead, slipping him another cup of coffee.

"Oh, Danny?" Her son looked up. Maddie frowned slightly. "I'm sorry to ask you this, but Damon called yesterday afternoon while you were out. He apologized for the short notice, but asked us if the next time we ran into Phantom, we could persuade him to attend the Police weapons commissioning this afternoon at two." Danny sank down, groaning. His mother smiled sympathetically. "I know its short notice, but this is the first time city police will carry standard ecto-weapons. He wants you there to talk ghost."

Danny just nodded to the table. "Whatever. Sam's grounded anyway, Val will probably show as the Red Huntress, and Tucker spent yesterday with me. I guess I can go." Jack nodded.

"Right. I'll tell D-man you're coming! Your mother and I will be there too. This is a big step for him, son. It took a long time to get funding for all these weapons, and having you there will help boost morale and give them an idea what to aim at." Danny stared at his dad for a second, who flushed, realizing what he'd said. "I don't mean you, I mean other ghosts." Jazz laughed slightly, and smiled at her brother.

"Want a ride to school?" Her brother seemed taken aback by the offer for a moment, and then nodded hesitantly.

"Uh, sure." Jazz hadn't offered him a ride for a while. Something was definitely up, and it was probably best to get it over with quickly. Grabbing his bag, Danny let his sister lead him out to the car. Turning the ignition, his sister looked around and pulled out.

"So…nice weather huh?" Danny raised an eyebrow. Even if he hadn't been working with Clockwork for months to improve his understanding of others, Jazz was being painfully obvious. Something was wrong.

"Yeah, it is." He said casually. "But that's not why you asked to give me a ride. What's up?" Jazz frowned, apparently having an intense internal debate, then sighed, her eyes firmly on the road.

"I'm worried about you Danny. You had some sort of nightmare last night. I heard you yelling from down the hall." Her brother shot her an incredulous look. "I guess you don't remember it, but I heard you talking in your sleep. Something's bothering you, a lot. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"

A brief flash of a blue, clawed hand dripping blood flashed through his head, but quickly vanished, leaving no trace. "Nope, not a clue. Are you sure I'm having bad dreams? Talking in my sleep might mean anything." His sister shook her head, shuddering.

"No, I'm sure. You seemed so…afraid. And you're starting to get tired during the day. Whatever you're dreaming, it's not like normal sleep. You aren't dealing with whatever caused it when you're awake, and I think this might get worse. Just," she paused, "just remember I'm here for you if you do figure out what you're dreaming, okay?" Her brother nodded with a small smile. She returned it as they pulled into the school lot.

With that, the two siblings walked into the school and headed towards their respective classes. It was going to be a long day.

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Danny transformed into his ghost form within seconds of getting out of class. Crouched cautiously in the bathroom stall, he closed his eyes in concentration, focusing his mind on the air over the local police station. A sharp pain shot through his head, and he fell back onto the toilet seat, wincing.

"Ah!" He grabbed his aching head, blinking the spots from his eyes. Suspicious, he looked closely at the exposed bathroom all behind him. It seemed to have a thin coat of new paint on it, with an occasional fleck of gold glittering on the surface. "Ethren. Great. You'd think they'd just coat the locker rooms." Danny muttered to himself. Turning invisible, he shoved open the bathroom door and phased through any random students to get to the outside doors. Shaking off the various emotions and memories he'd accidentally picked up on the way; the ghost boy broke out into the open and tried again. Seconds later he popped back into the visible world above the police station, lightly touching down and pushing in the front doors. Damon was waiting for him in the front lobby, smiling next to his red-suited daughter.

"Mr. Gray. Red." Phantom said good-naturedly. He might know it was Valerie, but one never knew who was listening. The two nodded at him, Gray smiling.

"Phantom. I'm glad you could come. Sorry about the short notice, but I thought you could use some good publicity, and maybe publicly state that certain…current news articles are not entirely accurate." Valerie nodded irritably.

"Yeah, like the ones that say we're dating. Not that I don't like you Phantom, but I'm not into dead people." Danny winced slightly at that. Valerie's eyes widened when she realized what she'd just said. "Sorry. No offense. You really are a great guy." Sighing, the ghost boy shrugged good-naturedly.

"It's no big deal. Besides, I need to clear my name as some sort of invisible pervert. Who writes that stuff anyway?" Damon shook his head in response.

"We don't know. The finished copy is sent to the printers from an anonymous source." He shot a glance down at his daughter. "And that might be a good thing." Danny nodded slightly after getting a look at Val's eyes. He'd been on her bad side long enough to know that that look meant death. Checking his watch, Damon waved for the two teens to follow him and headed into the large private meeting hall towards the back of the station.

"The Fentons developed a new material that's completely phase-proof." He said conversationally. "They say you helped." Danny gulped slightly.

"I…might have given them an idea or two on how to make it. It doesn't really keep you much safer if a ghost is willing to just blow your wall up, but it should kill all of those invisible peeping ghost rumors that are floating around." Valerie raised an eyebrow and gave him a sideways look as they stood behind a podium at the front of the long hall, a display of gleaming new weapons and Fenton Thermoses on their right, under the guard of Jack and Maddie Fenton.

"Where do you go all the time anyway?" She whispered. Danny shrugged slightly and looked over at the girl.

"The Fentons' house or the Ghost Zone." He whispered back. "Ghosts need energy to keep going, and I either get mine from resting in my lair, or terrorizing humans. Doesn't give me many options." Valerie thought about it as her father gave the police a long speech about 'the way of the future' and 'civil responsibility.'

"Hey, how come you put this side's door to your lair in Danny's bedroom closet? Aren't there better places in that house?" Danny flushed slightly, his mind working as fast as it could.

"Um…he knew I was on your side for a long time, and he knew I needed to have a door, so he let me hide it in his room. I can't really move it now. Hehe…" Danny turned his gaze back towards the crowd as Valerie narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Damon abruptly cut off his speech.

"And now to say a few words, Amity Park's own Phantom!" Danny suddenly felt two hands grip his shoulders and push him forward. A few flashes hit him in the face from the sides of the room as the local reporters snapped off shots and pulled out notepads. Gulping, Danny felt himself briefly go invisible. Counting to five, he slowly returned to the visible world.

"Er, sorry about that. Not too big on crowds." There was some scattered laughter throughout the room, then nothing. "Well, I guess I just want to say thanks for carrying these new weapons. They work on ghosts like regular weapons work on humans. Just know that ghosts are made of some pretty tough stuff, so we're not hurt easily. It'll take a lot of damage to bring down a ghost if you find yourself facing one alone, so you should probably go after them in groups, or wait for me or the Red Huntress to come help out. I think that's about all I have to say about the new weapons. Did, uh, did any of you have any questions?" Half the room erupted into chaos for a few seconds, and Danny looked on bemusedly. Still, he supposed that after six months of no public appearances of any kind, people would want to know something. Visibly bracing himself, he turned to the once again calm crowd and waited for them to sort out an order. Eventually, a gentleman in the front row stood up.

"Yes, eh, Phantom. I'm lieutenant Patson, I usually handle the night divisions, when ghost activity is up. Is there anything you can do to keep the ghosts out? I think you said something about that in your last, uh, interview." Danny sighed up on the podium, annoyed with himself yet again for saying that.

"To be honest, I wish I hadn't said anything." He said irritably. "Ghost law says I 'own' this town," he said, using air quotes when appropriate, "so other ghosts aren't allowed in uninvited. Unfortunately, anyone who lives here can make the invitation, and some nut out there apparently likes ghosts. So no, besides fighting them and asking people not to invite them here, I can't do anything to keep them out. Sorry." Nodding, the gentleman retook his seat, and visibly deferred the floor to a man a few seats to his left.

"Phantom, how much safer do you think this new 'Ethren' material the Fentons told us about will make the city? Is it worth mass production or is it a comfort blanket?" Danny raised an eyebrow, impressed with the question if unsure how to answer.

"Well, they know more about it than I do; they make the stuff. But I know from a ghost's perspective that it doesn't do much to stop us. If a violent ghost wants to get into an Ethren coated room, he'll just break the wall down. But it does stop ghosts from just phasing through the walls and floors of a room" Danny winced "or teleporting, so they can't use sneak attacks. Is it worth it?" Danny shrugged. "I don't know. I'll leave that up to you. But I will tell you that you don't have to use it to keep me out. No matter what that Spook paper said, I don't spy on people when I'm not on patrol. I'm either at the Fentons' helping them with their work or resting in the Ghost Zone. Just wanted to clear my name."

This man also retook his seat, unsure about the answer but convinced the young ghost had said all he could on the subject. A young woman in the back stood up and locked gazes with Phantom.

"Anne Hoss, first officer. How effective are these weapons?" The ghost boy frowned at that, and shot his parents a look.

"Didn't the Fentons cover that already?" The woman shook her head. Danny sighed.

"It would depend on the ghost. The less energy a ghost has the less stable their form is. If they're not completely together, they won't heal as quickly and the weapons will probably do more damage. Also, some ghosts can create shields or use other powers to defend themselves. You'll just have to hope for the best with each new ghost. But these weapons are probably fairly effective." Jack and Maddie nodded enthusiastically.

"They're the best we've designed yet. A single ecto-gun of this power is a significant threat to any ghost up to about class 5. Higher than that and you'll need more weapons. A small squad could probably hold off a class 7 until reinforcements arrived." Danny nodded in approval, but Anne seemed confused.

"Class? What are you talking about?" Danny sighed and turned towards his parents slightly desperately. The two just shrugged. Apparently he was supposed to know more about ghosts since he was one. But this was going in a bad direction, fast.

"Well, the Guys in White, the government's official ghost hunting division, developed a class system to rate the power of a ghost based on how much energy they could use at any one time. The scale goes from one up, and going up by one increases the threat ten times. So a class two ghost is ten times as powerful as a class one, and a class three is ten times as powerful as a class two. Most ghosts below a class four aren't really much of a threat; the Box ghost is a 2.5 or something, barely enough energy for a form and box control powers. But some ghosts are very powerful. If these weapons can hold a class 7, they're pretty good, so you shouldn't have too much to worry about."

"What class are you?" Came the inevitable question from some random cop in the back. Danny closed his eyes, slightly nervous about saying. Even though he new where things were going, he'd hoped this wouldn't happen.

"Uh, I'm a…7.5. Or almost, anyway." The crowd was fairly silent at that. "But I'm on your side, so don't worry about it too much." Slightly pale, the woman who'd brought the topic up tentatively voiced her next question.

"Er, what's the most powerful ghost you know of? That might attack, I mean." Danny swallowed slightly, and turned towards the young woman.

"Pariah Dark, the ghost king. He's the one that sucked the entire town into the Ghost Zone a year ago. He's around a 9, I think. I was just under 7 then, and I needed that Fenton Suit that increases the wearer's power 100 fold to beat him, so I think that's right." He scratched his neck slightly. "Is it?" A few people nodded, as Valerie shot him a second odd look.

"What will those weapons do to a ghost as powerful as you?" Danny shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable, uncertain how to answer. Finally, he settled for the easiest way and turned towards his parents.

"Shoot me."

"What?" Both hunters' eyes bugged slightly.

"Just do it, please." He said irritably. Finally with a great deal of reluctance, Jack aimed the ecto-weapon at his son and fired. He'd aimed to get a glancing blow on the arm, but Danny quickly shifted to catch it on the side of his face. Wincing at the pain, he turned back towards the shocked officers, the burned skin on his face already rippling and flowing back together.

"That much." He said simply. "It hurts, but I'll live. If you run into anything above a class 7, wait for me and the huntress, or get a tank." The others stared at him blankly as his face finished knitting itself back together. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Look, I think I've said enough. I'll let Red and the Fentons take it from here." Danny abruptly turned invisible and walked out through the doors. The police might question the value of Ethren, but he didn't doubt someone had coated this place with it anyway. After all, what good was a jail where a potential convict could walk through the walls? Rubbing his head at the unexpected math question, Danny took off and headed for home. Judging by the sun it was at least five o'clock.

Stepping inside, he walked tiredly into the kitchen for a quick microwave dinner.

And ran right into his sister. Face completely still, she thrust out her hand, holding the dreaded metal thermos. "Drink it." Danny took an involuntary step back, eyes locked in terror at the horrible gunk.

"Why? I drank that junk three times yesterday!" Jazz just narrowed her eyes.

"Mom and Dad both noticed how tired you've been lately. I think it's just the sleep, but this might help too. It can't hurt anyway. So drink it." Knowing any pleas would fall on deaf ears, Danny took the canister with a quiet whimper and gagged it down. Finally his sister's look turned sympathetic, and she held out a glass of water as a peace offering. He immediately chugged the water, gargling to see if it would help.

"Look, I know you don't know what your dreams are about, but please…whatever it is, let me help you work it out when you know. Okay?" Danny nodded and went upstairs to do his homework. Jazz just sat downstairs, deep in thought.

"Mirrors?"