Some of you might notice that I changed the genre from "Hurt/Comfort" to "Angst." This chapter made me realize how much hell I'm putting poor Danny through, so... :P

Chapter Three: Guilty Conscience

"If I'm upset, hold me and tell me how beautiful I am. If I growl, retreat to a safe distance and throw chocolate." - Unknown

Disassociation is a necessary skill when danger strikes. I know that better than most people. That's why I'm able to stay so calm as I form a thick sheet of ice over the hole in the wall. The reason the doctor supervising is so calm is because I'm kind of a fixture in this place. Whenever people get hurt in a ghost attack or some other thing I try to protect them from, I come here to make sure they're okay.

"Will that hold up?" the medical director, Dr. Nigel Kumar, asks me. He is a man with light brown skin and dark brown hair that, like his mustache, is dappled with gray.

"Oh, yeah." I rap my knuckle against the ice. "This stuff doesn't melt unless I want it to. And believe me, I do not want it to."

Dr. Kumar nods, satisfied with my answer. "Will the construction workers be able to break through it?"

"Well, I'd have to remove it myself. When will they get here? I can just meet them here."

"They should be here in about a half-hour, surprising as that is. Can you stay that long?"

"Totally." As if anything could keep me away. I've already sent a duplicate home because I wasn't sure how long this would take. And, there's a good chance Mom and Dad will be called about Jazz. I don't want them to find two empty beds in the house. "Why is it surprising?" I slap my hand over the ice. "There is a giant hole in the wall of a hospital! Of course they're gonna come right away."

Dr. Kumar smiles humorlessly. "You've never worked in a union, have you?"

I don't know what that means which I guess makes his point.

"This isn't your fault, you know," he adds suddenly.

Confused, I walk up to him. "How did you know I was blaming myself?"

"You've got that look," he says kindly. "I've been in this line of work for over thirty years. I've seen looks like that before."

Of course. He's a doctor. He's probably seen all kinds of injuries, of illnesses…of loved ones.

"I'm pretty sure you didn't tell that…whatever it was to charge in here."

It didn't charge in here. I threw the damn thing, and I'm too much of a coward to admit it out loud. "Will Ja- that girl be okay?"

Dr. Kumar doesn't say anything for a moment. "It's difficult to say. Either way, I can only give the details to her family."

I want to scream out my secret identity, but I don't. "What if I'm a deceased relative?" Dr. Kumar raises an eyebrow. "Worth a shot. Has her family been contacted?" A thought strikes, a flash of hope with it. "Her parents are ghost hunters. They probably have something that can help with ecto-contamination."

Dr. Kumar strokes his chin thoughtfully…but not in a good way. "Well, theoretically. Her father actually suggested such a thing. The problem is that the exposure to ectoplasm is affecting both a human ailment and the medication in her body. Adding in anti-ghost remedies causes more problems than it solves. It's like mixing prescriptions that weren't meant to be mixed. You just don't do it."

So much for that idea. My hands lock up so badly that I almost flinch. "You sound like you speak from experience."

"I don't need to tell you what goes on in this town, Phantom. Ecto-contamination in patients isn't common, but this isn't the first case of it nor will it be the last."

I stay until the construction workers arrive, and I can remove the ice barrier and let them do their thing. On my way out, I mentally check on my copy, but it's still asleep. Mom and Dad must not have wanted to wake me up. They probably want me to have one last peaceful night before dropping the bomb.

Little do they know...

I recall the conversation I'd heard (read: eavesdropped on while invisible because I couldn't stand not knowing what was happening) before I left. I'd found Jazz's new room on a different floor and listened as two nurses discussed her condition. Their words are muddled together in my mind, but three words are painfully clear.

"Comatose" and "life support."

Don't you dare cry, Daniel. You don't deserve the release.

I fly around aimlessly until my Ghost Sense goes off. Good. A distraction. A way to let it all out that doesn't involve falling apart. I'll have to be more careful this time.

Then a certain someone flies up to me, and I wonder just how careful I'll really be.

"I'm not in the mood, Plasmius," I growl.

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Vlad says. "Imagine my surprise when I'm heading home after a drink with some colleagues, only to find a giant green insect hurdling into the wall of the hospital. At first, I thought I'd drank a little too much!" His humor turns to a sneer. "I did warn you to be careful, didn't I? What will become of your dear sister now?"

My core screams and my hands tingle. I cross my arms so that he doesn't notice the latter. "Need I remind you that you are the reason Jazz is in the hospital to begin with?"

Vlad scowls and mimics my pose. "Need I remind you that your recklessness has made things infinitely worse?"

As if he needs to tell me that.

"Let this serve as a reminder to you, Daniel," Vlad goes on, sounding genuinely sympathetic. "Mortality is a fickle thing. As halfas, you and I are guaranteed to become true spirits when our human bodies give out. Not everyone is so lucky."

There it is. The one thing I'd been trying not to dwell on through all this. Not everyone becomes a ghost when they die. A lot of people just…stop being here.

I'll always be here, even after I die. What about my parents? My friends?

My sister…

The thought is incredibly selfish, but it's never been more present.

Don't react. Don't give him the show he's hoping to see.

And, the guy just keeps running his mouth. "I am man enough to take the blame for your sister's initial fragile state, but the contamination was all you."

I did make things worse. Jazz might…because of my actions.

But, I didn't bring poison into my house. I made things worse, but the man - the utter monster - before me is the cause of all this.

All my grief and guilt rises to the surface at thought, merging into something else.

The final straw is when he has the nerve to give me that mocking grin and say, "Whatever happens next will be on your head."

A tear falls. Then another. I'm too…everything to care that I'm crying in front of Vlad Plasmius. "Shut up," I whisper.

Vlad flies closer and cups his hand around his ear. "Hm? What was that?"

"I said. Shut. UUUUUPPPPP!"

My Ghostly Wail is my most powerful attack. It's ridiculously loud, it causes massive shock waves, and it sends an intense wave of fear into anyone who hears it (which is everyone because again, loud). Using it also takes a serious toll on my body, causing me to change forms after use. Because of all this, I reserve it for only the most dire emergencies.

But right now, it's just cathartic.

Vlad is thrown out of the air and crashes into the grass below, a crater forming on the impact. Driven by fury, I fly lower, keeping my distance but staying close enough that the crater grows and Vlad's ghostly form is trapped under the pressure. I put everything I'm feeling - the rage, the sorrow, the mind-numbing terror - into my voice, giving him a taste of everything he put me and, more importantly, my family through. I don't stop when pitch black rings appear around his waist and move up and down his body, turning him back into a human.

I do stop when dots coat my vision, my throat is raw and scratchy, and my whole body feels weak.

I fall into the grass as my own transformation occurs. I crouch there, panting and coughing, and survey the area. Thankfully, we'd ended up outside of town, and there isn't much beyond grassy plains and trees. I hadn't realized how far I'd gotten, but I'm grateful that no bystanders got hurt. Or, saw us change.

Vlad groans from the deep crater I'd formed around him. I crawl on wobbly limbs and peek into the hole to see him slowly prop himself up on his elbows. The look he gives me could melt even my own ice. "This," he pants, "is what I was talking about. Your temper, your soft heart. Your emotions will be your undoing, my boy. I hope you realize that."

No empathy. No remorse. Nothing but calculating dark blue eyes and the cruelty that no one who needs to see it ever does.

To the public eye, Vlad Masters is a kind man who's standoffish at worst. That's certainly what I thought when I first met him.

It didn't take long for me to discover that he's actually a heartless creep with no concern for anyone but himself.

His words piss me off enough to give me a second wind. I let the cold rings run over my body, and I leap into the crater. I land on top of Vlad and pin him down by his arms. This man has done nothing but hurt me and the people I care about since the day we met and probably long before that. I am fueled by hatred, the likes of which I've never felt before.

"If my sister doesn't pull through," I say through gritted teeth, my voice a low rumble not unlike my Ghostly Wail, "I won't. Hold. Back."

As I speak, Vlad's skin turns a similar shade of blue to his ghost-form's. His eyes bug out as a thin layer of frost forms over his skin, his hair, even his eyelashes. He shivers so fiercely that he appears to be having a seizure. He makes harsh choking sounds as he convulses. Black sparks shoot harmlessly from his waist, like he's trying to change forms but can't.

Holy shit, what did I just do?

I jump off him. My hands aren't the only parts of me that can no longer function.

Vlad is a terrible person; there's no denying that.

But, this is… What did I just do?

With shaking, barely working hands, I lift him into my arms and fly us back to the hospital.

I can freeze blood.

Like I did with Jazz, I'd invisibly eavesdropped on the nurses. I'd told the doctors that Vlad's condition was the result of a ghost attack, which isn't a lie. In hindsight, I don't know if bringing him to a human hospital was the best idea, but I couldn't think of anything else in the heat of the moment. It sounds like he's doing okay though, and since it's Vlad, that shouldn't be as big a relief as it is.

Anyway, it turns out that the blood in Vlad's veins was frozen solid. That is one aspect of my ice powers that I did not need to know about.

What is wrong with me anymore? Why does the guy who's Obsessed with helping people keep hurting them? It says a lot about my mental state that I feel guilty about hurting Vlad.

And, that I'm walking into his room to check on him. Dear God, I'm actually worried about Vlad.

He is lying in a hospital bed and shivering despite the piles of blankets on top of him and the - I assume - high temperature of the room. Ghosts are only supposed to feel temperature changes when using their own powers. I really, really messed him up.

Vlad sees me and sits up, cringing when the blankets fall off him. He is in a fluffy robe, his face is beet red, and his silver hair is out of its usual low ponytail and hangs in a frizzy mess about his face. If he's trying to save his bravado, he's not doing a very good job.

"Come to check on your latest victim?" he says with that calculating look. "You continue to surprise me, Daniel."

"It's called having a conscience, Vlad," I retort. "I don't expect you to understand. But, I am sorry for what happened. Not for the Ghostly Wail. You had that coming."

"You're apologizing for freezing the blood in my veins." I'm very proud of myself for not flinching. "Did you know you could do that? I certainly didn't."

Does he have to remind me? "It's news to me."

Vlad chuckles. "Yes, I suppose there is a lot you don't know about your ghost-half. I've made more than one offer to guide you, Daniel, but you've always declined. Such a stubborn young man, you are."

I cross my arms. "I wouldn't let you guide me across an empty street. I came in here to apologize, but you're making it pretty hard for me to feel bad."

"And yet, you do," Vlad says knowingly. He isn't wrong, and I hate being the good guy sometimes. "It's that soft heart of yours at work. I pity you for that, Daniel. That's why I didn't tell anyone just what ghost attacked me." Before I can respond, he adds, "Which reminds me, how is your sister holding up? I haven't heard anything."

Comatose. Life support. "Like you care," I snap, choosing anger. "You don't care about anyone but yourself. You know what? Maybe it's good that you're here. A taste of your own medicine, that's what this is."

That grin, damn him! "I did not freeze your sister's blood, Daniel, but I know what you mean."

My core. My hands. I hate Vlad so much.

"I was the catalyst for Jasmine's condition, yes. But as I've told you, whatever happens next will be on your head."

I don't know what I was about to do, but I'm interrupted by heavy footsteps that stop beside me. Caroline is the biggest, ugliest, burliest nurse I've ever seen, the type you thought only existed in cartoons. She ignores me in favor of Vlad, who looks as disturbed as I felt the first time I saw her. And, still feel. She's good at her job, but...

"Mayor Masters," Caroline says in a low, scary voice that's also straight out of a cartoon. She holds up a large sponge. "It's time for your sponge bath."

She squeezes the sponge, and water drips menacingly to the floor. Vlad's disturbed look turns to one of raw horror, and some of the redness leaves his face.

"I was gonna throttle you," I quip then point to Caroline, "but I think this lady's better equipped for it. Have fun!" I add and turn away.

On my way out, Vlad calls, "Wait! Take me with you!"

Not a snowball's chance in hell.

Oof. Bad choice of words.

Before I leave, I seek out Jazz's new room, mentally preparing myself for what I'll find. The receptionist doesn't bat an eye when I ask where "that girl from the room with the hole" is now. Like I said, they know me here, and they know I like to check on people.

Jazz is on a different floor than Vlad, thank God. I phase down to the second floor and locate room 213, mentally preparing myself for what I'll find.

I wasn't prepared enough.

Jazz is lying in bed and hooked up to a whole new set of things, including an oxygen mask. For the first time since this whole mess started, she doesn't react when I enter the room and close the door. There is no greeting, no bright smile, not even sleepy eyes blinking into focus. She just…lies there.

Like a corpse.

My core and my hands hurt worse than ever, and my heart isn't any better. Vlad's right; he started this, but the scene in front of me is my fault. Tears threaten, and I bite down hard on the knuckle of my index finger, desperate to hold them back. They're made of ectoplasm in this form, and if I change, I risk someone coming in and asking why there's a random teenager here after visiting hours.

"I'm sorry," I whisper shakily. "I'm so sorry, Jazzie."

I take off before I can break down. When I get home, I send the butterfly back to the Ghost Zone, remove my copy, change forms, and crawl into bed, hoping to get at least a little sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, after maybe an hour of sleep, I got ready for school as I normally would and played dumb. The only reason I came downstairs was because I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable.

Mom had been pacing and crying and ranting about Phantom and how this was his doing and she knew he couldn't be trusted and blah blah blah. Dad was sitting on the couch in a trance and with tears on his face.

When they finally noticed me standing there, Mom asked brokenly, "You heard all that?"

I just nodded. At that point, I was too numb to react any other way.

They told me I didn't have to go to school. I reminded them that education is important to Jazz, and she wouldn't want me to miss a day because of her. That makes no sense in this context, but it's how I feel! They didn't argue, just gave me extra hugs and kisses and sent me on my way, telling me to call if I changed my mind so they could pick me up. They asked if I wanted them to be there with me when I went to see Jazz after school. I told them I want some alone time with her and to go see her without me.

The truth is that I'm worried about what I might do or say in front of them. Any thoughts of ever telling them I'm Danny Phantom are officially out the window.

"Danny? Danny!" Sam cries out.

I should have known she and Tucker would come after me. Word travels fast in this town, especially when ghosts are involved. As soon as I appeared in the courtyard, the murmuring started. Most of the time, my peers don't spare me a second glance. Now, I'm "the coma girl's" little brother.

I thought I'd at least get inside the building before I had to answer questions, but my friends run up to me before I make it halfway to the entrance.

"Danny," Tucker says, "we didn't think you'd be in school today."

Sam narrows her violet eyes protectively. "Don't tell me your parents made you come."

"Just the opposite," I sigh. "I'm here for dumb sibling reasons that only make sense in my mind."

"So, it's true?" Sam asks. "Jazz is really…"

My throat tightens. "On life support?"

Tucker sucks in air between his teeth. Sam stares open-mouthed at me. It's one thing to hear a rumor. It's another to have that rumor confirmed.

Sam runs a hand through her hair. "Danny, why are you here? You should take a mental health day."

"Or, a mental health week," Tucker suggests. "You are not having a good time, dude!"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock!" I shout. My friends flinch, giving me another reason to feel awful. "I'm sorry. I barely slept last night. Everything's happening at once and," my voice thickens, "and I know that's not an excuse-"

Tucker grabs my arm. "Dude. Danny, it's cool."

Sam steps between us and puts a hand on both our shoulders. "Look, we'll all go see Jazz after school like we've been doing. Maybe she'll wake up and be happy to see us. Miracles happen, right?" I can tell she doesn't believe her own words.

"Can we change the subject?" I beg.

"Yeah, sure," Tucker says. He leans in and whispers, "I heard you use the Ghostly Wail last night. I think everyone heard you use it. That thing is loud. So, what was that about?"

I went ballistic and then froze a person's blood. I fight a shiver and summarize, "Vlad showed up, and I snapped. New topic, please?"

My friends look like they have a million questions, but they're kind enough to move on from that. Sam peers at something behind me and scowls. "Here comes your new topic."

I turn around as a nervous-looking Valerie walks up to me. "Hey, Danny," she says. "I heard about what happened. You got a sec?"

"No, he doesn't," Sam says.

"Yes, he does," I counter. "I'll see you guys later."

As Valerie leads me away, Sam calls after me, but Tucker cuts her off with a, "He's a big boy, Sam."

Valerie and I stop at the side of the building, away from curious eyes. Valerie doesn't say anything at first, so I start us off. "Please don't ask about Jazz. I'm trying not to think too hard about her."

"Well, word of warning," Valerie says sympathetically, "she's the main topic of conversation. Her and Phantom busting out his Ghostly Wail." Now, there's a deep scowl on her face. "I know you're a ghost sympathizer, Danny, and I respect that, but even you can't deny who's to blame for this. Have you seen the news? Everyone's going on about how Phantom took out the ghost who rammed into the hospital. Meanwhile, I heard that Phantom was fighting that bug-thing at the time, and we all know how wild his fights get. I swear that guy could get away with murder-"

"Please stop!" I beg, barely holding on. "Valerie, I respect that you hate ghosts, but please stop!"

"I'm sorry," she says. She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. "This isn't why I brought you over. I just get so riled up." She blows out a calming breath and tries again. "Danny, do you remember freshman year, when those ghosts cost my dad his job, and we had to sell our house and everything?"

"I remember," I say. That kind of thing is hard to forget when you were there and had a giant dog-ghost dragging you around by the ankle.

I have a lot to feel bad about. Though that particular incident was mostly on the dog, who turned out to be pretty nice once I found the squeaky toy he'd been looking for at the time. In fact, Cujo - at least, that's what I started calling him - has taken a liking to me and has been paying me frequent visits ever since. He even realized that I don't like him scaring people by showing up as a huge, monstrous beast and sticks to his small, cute form unless there's trouble. I've gotten kind of attached to him. What can I say? I love dogs. Too bad my folks won't even let me have a living one, let alone a dead one.

"When that happened," Valerie goes on, "you were one of the only people who stuck by me. Even though I'd been nothing but mean to you up to that point, you still made an effort to be nice."

I duck my head as a blush creeps over my face. "I-I was just, you know…" Feeling guilty about what happened. No way I can tell her that. Having her try to destroy just my ghost-half is enough, thank you very much. I rub the back of my neck. "You were having a rough time. I wanted to make it easier. It's just basic decency."

"Well, it wasn't basic to everyone," Valerie says with a bitter eye roll. She was one of the popular kids before all that. When they found she wasn't rich anymore, they dumped her like expired milk. Jerks. "The point is, you were there when I was at rock bottom." She smiles. "I'm just letting you know Sam and Tucker aren't the only ones who have your back."

I grip the straps of my backpack just for something to hold. "I appreciate that," I say shakily.

Valerie wrings her hands and bites her lip before asking, "Is it true, what I'm hearing? Is Jazz really on life support?"

A sob breaks loose, and I swipe at the tear that came with it. "Sorry." I sniff hard. "I'll be okay. I just need a minute to get my head on straight."

"Alright," Valerie coos, having her answer. She gives my shoulder a squeeze. "I'll give you space. Unless you want me to stay here." I shake my head. "Okay. I'll see you later, then."

When she walks away, I have to restrain myself from calling her back. But, I don't deserve company, not after everything I've done.

But, I still have company whether Valerie's here or not. "Coast is clear, Eileen," I tell that person.

Eileen Merryweather, who had no doubt been hiding from Valerie, appears beside me in what I've come to think of as her teacher-form: a pretty black woman with short, tightly curled hair and reddish-brown eyes. I'd initially thought she was a fellow halfa. But no, she's just really good at Shapeshifting.

"How'd you know I was there?" Eileen asks. "I thought your Ghost Sense didn't work on me anymore."

"I felt the change in the atmosphere." I shrug. "A half-ghost is still a ghost."

Eileen hums then puts her hands on her hips. "I was prepared to mark you absent. What are you doing here?"

I slouch, already exhausted, and the school day hasn't even started yet. "Like I told my friends, dumb sibling reasons that only make sense in my mind."

"Ah." Eileen smiles wistfully. "I had two brothers. I think I can relate."

Had. Does that mean her brothers didn't become ghosts when they died? I wrap my arms around my stomach. "I just wanna get through the day."

Because no one's watching, Eileen pulls me close. I lean into the touch and press my wet eyes to her shoulder. Something about this woman always makes me feel safe. Maybe it's her calm demeanor. Maybe it's the fact that we're both ghosts who work with and care about humans. Maybe it's because I'd started seeing her as a second mother at some point. Not that I'd ever say that last part out loud.

"I've been a ghost for over three hundred years," Eileen reminds me. "I'm sure I've learned something over the centuries that can help your sister." The bell rings, and she pulls away. "I'll start racking my brain. I'll also write you a late pass so you can cool off."

I frown. "Uh, thank you, but I have you for homeroom."

"A late pass for first period, Danny. Your eyes turned black while we were talking. I don't know how long that lasts for you, and I don't think you want anyone seeing it."