For best results, read "Teacher's Threat" first. It's not a requirement, but there is a very specific scene in that story that coincides with this one, which takes place almost immediately after it.

Just a Touch of Fear!

Chapter One: Emergency

"I'm really afraid to feel happy because it never lasts." - Unknown

My sister has been sick for a few days. The first day, I thought it was the salsa she'd been spooning into her mouth the night before. She'd been stress-eating at the time, and I don't need a doctor to tell me that stress and jalapeno peppers are a bad combination. But, my sister has never had a problem with spicy food. Let's just say that she's the only one in this house who can stand Aunt Alicia's five-alarm chili…and complain that it's not hot enough.

Jazz's sickness had started out mild. She had no appetite, no energy, and she got lightheaded if she moved around too much. We all just assumed she'd caught some bug. Worrisome, but hey, these things happen.

Yesterday, she was better. She ate a little more than she had been, and she could walk around without getting dizzy if she moved slowly.

Today, she's practically bedridden. I don't understand it. Our whole family talked it over, and we decided that if Jazz doesn't improve by tomorrow, we're going to call a doctor.

I had pulled a chair up to her bedside and am now reading to her from one of her books. It's something we did when we were kids and one of us was sick. We haven't done it in years, but for some reason it felt appropriate to bring it back.

I just wish Jazz had better taste in literature.

"'He pulled me against him and kissed me hard, fast. My whole body vibrated with pleasure as he brought one hand up to fondle my breast-' Jazz, do I have to read this part?"

Jazz grins at me. "You're the one who offered to read to me."

Her voice is quiet and raspy. Her skin is almost as pale as my ghost-form's. Sweat beads on her forehead. Her blue-green eyes are dull and glassy. Her hair needs washed, but she can barely stay conscious enough to even sit in the bathtub. This isn't my big sister.

My Obsession is helping others, yet I can't do anything to help one of the most important people in my life. The best I can do is try to make her comfortable.

Jazz has spent most of her life taking care of me. This is one of the rare chances I get to return the favor.

I blow out an annoyed breath. "I made my bed." I clear my throat dramatically and continue where I left off. "'The feel of him against me made me daring. I clamped my hand over the hardness of his erec-' And, I'm uncomfortable again."

"Not everyone is into science fiction, Danny."

"Not everyone is this horny, either."

Jazz bursts out laughing, but it immediately turns into a coughing fit. I feel horrible as I wait for her to stop. It feels like an eternity before she groans and collapses back on to her pillow.

"Sorry. No more jokes," I promise.

"It's okay," Jazz says. "The laughing part felt good."

I'm about to force myself to keep reading when suddenly there's a tingling that starts at my wrists and spreads over both hands. This has been happening periodically since this morning. At random intervals, my hands will barely move and become enveloped by a pins-and-needles sensation, as if I'd sat on them for too long. I haven't told anyone. There's enough to worry about in this house right now. Today's Sunday. I hope it goes away by tomorrow. I can't imagine trying to get through the school day like this.

I try to push through the feeling and turn the page. My hands have other ideas. While I'm trying to bend the fingers of one hand to grab the page, my other hand drops the book entirely. I play it off as a happy accident, which it is in a way. "Whoops. Looks like I lost the page. Oh, well. You'll just have to enjoy your porn another time."

"One: it's romance, not porn," Jazz says. I beg to differ. "And two: you totally did that on purpose." Rather than deny that, I play the annoying little brother card and stick my tongue out at her. She rolls her eyes then yawns. "I could use a nap anyway."

A wisp of blue bursts out of my mouth: my Ghost Sense. "And, I've got places to be. Unless you want me to stay here," I offer. "I could duplicate myself, let that me deal with it."

"I'll be fine," Jazz rasps, snuggling under the covers. "Mom and Dad are here. And, I know you like to do this stuff yourself."

I bend over to kiss her forehead then straighten. "In that case, I'm going ghost!"

My temperature lowers as two ice-cold rings form around my waist and travel up and down my body, replacing my clothes with a familiar black jumpsuit and turning my black hair white and my blue eyes a glowing neon green. As I'd thought, my ghost-form's skin is similar to Jazz's current complexion, but if hers becomes as pale and withered as mine, that's when I'll really worry.

Jazz wishes me luck as I phase through the wall and float outside until I spot a large green mass flying downtown. I take off after it. Once I'm closer, I can see that the ghoul - a ghost without sentience, you can always tell - resembles a butterfly the size of a truck. Its wings have no designs and end in sharp points. It has two black antennae on its head, dark green compound eyes, and jagged pincers on either side of its mouth. At least it has the correct amount of legs for a butterfly.

Below, people spot the ghoul and naturally run away screaming when the thing descends and lands on top of a moving car, crushing it instantly. Miraculously, the driver himself is unharmed and throws himself out of the vehicle. The butterfly rears back on four of its legs and lets out a high-pitched screech while waving its front feet.

"Hey, Butter-freak," I call as I fly toward it, "will you quit bugging the civilians?" Two puns in one sentence. Not bad, though the "bugging" part kind of writes itself.

The butterfly sees me coming and shoots glowing white webbing from its mouth. I counter with my ice powers and watch as ice travels along the webbing until the ghoul's whole head is frozen. The ghoul starts to flail around in panic, but I latch on to the frozen string of webbing before any more damage can be done. Thank goodness my hands are cooperating again. I throw the butterfly in the air, letting the ice web melt but keeping the ghoul's head frozen so it can't try anything else. The ghoul rights itself in the air but ignores me in favor of batting at its frozen face.

I pull the Fenton Thermos out of pocketspace - the pocket dimension that ghosts store things in - and meet the ghoul up there. "Clearly, no one told you that if you make the same face for too long, your face will freeze that way. Ah, well. You live and you learn."

I aim the Thermos at the ghoul and press the button. A fierce blast of air sucks the shrieking ghoul inside, and I clamp the lid back on. A cool, rhythmic pulsing spreads through my chest, my core congratulating me for a job well done.

Until my Ghost Sense goes off again.

My first thought is that the butterfly brought its bug friends. Then, I hear a slow clapping behind me and turn around. And, contemplate siccing the butterfly on the halfa floating before me.

"Not bad, Daniel," Vlad says. "Could have been better, but not bad at all."

What can I say about Vladimir Masters/Plasmius? He's super rich because he used his ghost powers to rob banks and trick people into selling him their businesses. He became the mayor of Amity Park in a landslide victory by overshadowing the voters. He acts chummy with my dad but has made multiple attempts on Dad's life. He has a creepy fantasy about marrying my mom and making me his son and/or minion (never mentions anything about Jazz, though). The only humans who know he's half-ghost are my team and myself. The only reason we keep his secret is because he'll reveal my own otherwise. He tried to clone me more than once. He has holograms of my mother that do his bidding and compliment him every chance they get.

In summary, the man is one seriously crazed-up fruit loop.

"So, how have you been, little badger?" Did I mention the pet name? No? He has a pet name for me. "How is your family doing?"

I put the Thermos away and keep my distance. "Just tell me what you want, Plasmius."

Vlad puts his hand over his heart in mock-offense. "What? Can I not simply stop by for a friendly chat?" His glowing red eyes glance down toward the hospital, which I notice is directly beneath us. He gives me one of those smirks of his, baring his fangs. "You know, Daniel, you really should be more careful. Human diseases don't mix well with ectoplasm."

"It's not like I'm gonna dump ectoplasm all over a sick person," I argue. "Is this going somewhere, or do you just feel like hearing yourself talk?"

Vlad chuckles as if talking to a precocious child. Maybe he is in his twisted mind. "Well, as much as I enjoy our little tit-for-tats, I'm afraid I don't have time for it today. But, remember what I said. Be careful."

"I'll show you careful," I retort and fire a ghost ray at him.

Without lifting a finger, he lets a magenta-colored shield appear in front of him, blocking my attack. "And, work on your temper while you're at it," he taunts as the shield disappears. "Until next time, Daniel. And, give your father my best." With that, he flies away.

I don't give chase because I know that's what he's hoping for. I ponder our encounter as I watch him vanish from sight. Anytime Vlad, human- or ghost-form, approaches me, it's either because he wants something or he has something up his sleeve. Since he didn't ask for anything, it's probably the latter.

Give my father his best, huh? If something happened to my father, Vlad would break out the champagne and celebrate. And, why the emphasis on the hospital?

If he did something to Dad, then so help me…

My phone vibrates before I can finish that vengeful train of thought. I pull it out and see that it's a call from home.

I answer the call, and Dad's on the other line. His voice isn't angry, but there's an edge to it that I don't like. "Danny, where are you?"

"I'm at the drugstore," I fib, "picking up some stuff for Jazz."

"Well, you're gonna have to put it all back. We…tried to wake up your sister, and…"

My already slow heartbeat stops instantly. "Tell me. I can handle it."

Dad clears his throat and speaks with a forced calmness. "She woke up, but she started coughing… I'm afraid there was blood." Oh my God. "Then, she fainted, and we couldn't wake her again. Your mother called 9-1-1. The ambulance is on its way."

My hands pick that moment to lock up. My phone slips from my grasp, but I manage to catch it before it can drop however many feet and shatter on the roof below.

"Danny? Are you still there?"

Balancing my phone over my awkwardly positioned hands, I respond, "Yeah, yeah, sorry. I'll just meet you at the hospital then."

We say our goodbyes, and my hands start working just enough for me to hang up and put my phone away. I descend into a secluded area, change back into a human, and run to the hospital entrance to wait.

I pace back and forth as my core screams for me to do something. But, I'm not a doctor. Jazz is sick, even more so than anyone thought, and I can't do a thing about it. I've never felt so powerless.

My big sister is about to be hospitalized, Vlad is plotting something, and my hands keep acting up. You ever feel like the universe just hates you?

After an eternity, the ambulance pulls up, the Ghost Assault Vehicle not far behind. Mom and Dad jump out of the GAV and run over to hold me, but I barely feel it.

We all watch in stunned silence as the paramedics wheel my big sister out of the ambulance on a stretcher. There's an oxygen mask over her face. She looks so…lifeless.

Mom is crying softly. Dad tightens his grip around her and I and murmurs empty reassurances. My core is pulsating so hard that it feels like I have a broken ice machine in my chest. I don't think the situation really hit us until now.

"Can I do anything?" I ask the paramedics, driven by Obsession, by the need to soothe my core. "Can I help at all? Please? She's my sister!"

They glance at me pityingly. The guy who was driving the ambulance walks up to me and pats my shoulder. "We have it under control, son. Your sister's in good hands."

I wish I had good hands. Mine are paralyzed again, tingling now to the point of pain. The driver talks to my parents. I don't hear them. My core aches. Doesn't it realize that there's nothing I can do about this?

We sit in the waiting room for a long time. Or, maybe it just feels that way. No word on Jazz yet. No one else in the room besides the receptionist, which means there's no one who needs help, and I need to help someone.

If a ghost goes too long without satisfying their Obsession, they get…volatile in their desperation for whatever they're Obsessed with. This has never happened to me because my Obsession is vague enough that I can do pretty much anything with it.

Less than an hour ago, I had saved the townsfolk from a rampaging ghoul. My core should be fine or at least less terrible. Is it because of Jazz? I can't help her with this!

Maybe it's because I can't help her.

"Sweetheart, sit down," Mom coos. "You've been pacing since we got here."

I can't sit down. I'm too restless, and I don't want them to see that I still can't move my fingers.

Dad pats the seat next to him. "C'mere, son. Let's talk."

Oh, fine. I sit down beside Dad, and he throws one arm around me and the other around Mom, drawing us closer.

"Jazz is a Fenton," Dad says. "We're made of strong stuff. It takes a lot more than some random illness to knock us down. Jazz will get through this, one way or another."

"I need to help her," I whisper.

Mom gives me a sad smile and reaches for my hand. "We'll all help her, Danny."

My hand relaxes enough that I can hold hers.

Inconclusive. The test results were inconclusive. They don't know why Jazz is so sick. They wouldn't even let us see her until they were certain she wasn't contagious.

We went home. What else could we do?

I've been doing my chores and doing everyone else's chores, both to soothe my core and give me something to do. At least my hands are working again.

I keep at it until my parents practically beg me to take a break. I do so for their sake. Helping so much with the housework relaxed my core, but it still feels so fragile.

I walk up to my room to do I-don't-know-what and see a note on my calendar: Doomed 2 4:00.

Crap. I was supposed to play the new Doomed sequel with Sam and Tucker. I boot up my laptop and request a video chat with them.

Tucker is the first to respond. When his face appears on the screen, he says, "Dude, where were you? That game is sick!"

I cringe at his choice of words. "Sorry. I totally forgot. Today's been hectic."

Sam appears, looking annoyed. "Well, look who decided to log on." Then, she really looks at me. "Although, your expression tells me there's a reason you flaked on us."

"I'm so sorry," I say. I explain what happened with Jazz and how my Obsession's been driving me nuts.

"They seriously don't know what's wrong?" Sam asks.

"No, they don't." I groan and run my hands through my hair. "I don't get it. She's been sick, but she wasn't that bad until today. I'm really scared, guys."

"Maybe they'll know more tomorrow," Tucker says. "Why don't we all go see her after school?"

I smile despite everything. "You'd do that?"

"She's part of the team, dude," Tucker says. Sam agrees.

The next day, Sam and Tucker manage to meet me at my locker between classes. "Any word on Jazz?" Sam asks.

"Well, she's not contagious, which I guess is good," I say, slamming my locker in frustration and clutching my science book to my chest like a lifeline. "She did wake up supposedly, but we still don't know what's wrong."

Tucker gives me a reassuring smile. "Hey, we'll head to the hospital like we planned, and I bet Jazz'll be wide awake and happy to see us."

"I hope so," I say.

We part ways to head to our next classes. Before I can get far, I'm approached by a pretty black girl with long, wavy black hair and green eyes. To ghosts, she is known as the Red Huntress because of the red bodysuit she wears. It has, like, a million ghost-hunting gadgets, fitting for a person who utterly despises ghosts and turns feral at the sight of them, particularly my alter-ego.

But since I'm currently a human, her name is Valerie Gray, and she's a friend.

"Hey, Danny," she says, concerned. "I overheard you guys. Is your sister really in the hospital?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "She was admitted yesterday. I don't know what's going on." The warning bell rings. "We should get to class."

"I hope Jazz is okay," Valerie calls as I walk past her.

"You and me both," I respond.

I'd called my parents during free period and let them know about my after-school plans. Turns out, they had just gotten back from the hospital themselves. Still no word on what exactly Jazz has, and I could hear the frustration in Mom's voice when she said that. On the plus side, Jazz was coherent but very tired and slept for most of the visit.

"How can they not know what's wrong by now?" Sam asks as she, Tucker, and I walk to the hospital.

Tucker's face brightens, but it looks fake. "Hey, maybe it's some new thing, and she'll get a disease named after her. That'd be cool, right?" Sam glares at him, but it's the low growl in my throat and possible glowing of my eyes that makes him shrink back. "Sorry. I realize that was inappropriate."

I let my temper cool. "It's okay. I really appreciate you guys coming with me. Especially you, Tucker. I know how you feel about hospitals."

Tucker smiles for real. "Hey, I can do it for Jazz."

Above us, we spot Valerie in her hunting garb, flying around on her hoverboard.

Sam scowls at the sight. "Man, Valerie's really ramped up her patrols lately."

Tucker and I just nod. We all know why. Less than a week ago, it was revealed that one of our teachers, Ms. Francesca Mae, was actually a ghost named Eileen Merryweather. I was already aware of this and had become quite close with her while she helped me perfect my Duplication power. It was my fault that she'd been outed, despite her assuring me otherwise, and I still haven't quite forgiven myself for it. Fortunately, Eileen, who continues to go by Ms. Mae at school for simplicity, was well-liked enough that she was allowed to continue teaching at Casper High. Valerie has been on edge ever since, and I have to be extra careful when making my own rounds.

When we reach the hospital, the receptionist directs us to Jazz's room. The closer we get, the more my core pulses. I try to ignore it. What I can't ignore is the way my hands tingle and lock up again. I got through school without this happening, so I'd assumed it was over. I grunt at the feeling, trying to move my fingers but can only twitch them a little. My friends take notice of my shift in focus. I may as well come clean. They'll figure it out eventually, since it doesn't seem to be stopping.

I wait until one of the nurses passes before whispering, "Something's up with my hands. Every now and then, they get all numb and tingly and they barely move."

Sam frowns deeper. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

"And, let them run tests and junk? I'm not exactly…normal, Sam."

"Hey, maybe it's a ghost thing," Tucker suggests. "Like when you first got your ice powers and couldn't stop shivering."

I hadn't thought of that. Could I be getting a new power? My mind wanders to my eyes. Supposedly, there are times when they turn completely black, as in pitch darkness. Could that be a new power, too?

Of course, it's just as likely that my eyes are just weird and I have some nerve problem that I should talk to a doctor about. It's hard to tell when you're half-ghost.

But, that thought gets shoved to the side when we reach Jazz's room. She has her own room, which I'm sure she prefers. And, she is lying in bed and watching TV but mutes the sound when she sees us and greets us with a big smile.

I can't enjoy that smile because she's hooked up to a bunch of IVs or whatever they are, and she still has that damn oxygen mask over her face. Her face is even paler than yesterday. Did she get thinner, or am I imagining that? At least they were kind enough to wash her hair.

My core throbs painfully. Or, maybe that's my heart breaking.

"Hey, guys," Jazz greets. Her voice is stronger, right? It has to be!

I rush to her side, kneel down, and try to take her hand, but my fingers still won't cooperate. "Do you need help? Let me help you!" She blinks at my desperation, and embarrassment takes its place. "Sorry. My core's kind of freaking out right now."

She hums in understanding then curiously runs her fingers over my frozen hands. "Are you okay? Physically?"

She still wants to look after me, even when she's like this. I swallow the lump in my throat. "It's just ghost stuff." Maybe. Hopefully. The stiffness wears off enough that I can wrap her hand in both of mine. "I don't want you worrying about me. Let me worry about you for once, Jazzie."

Our friends approach the bed. "We all have your back, Jazz," Sam says.

"Yeah," Tucker agrees. "You just lay back and chill, and you'll be out of here in no time at all."

Jazz smiles wider and her eyes start to close.

I brush a stray hair out of her face. "Sleep, sis. I'll be here every day until you're better. I promise."

But, she's already drifted off mid-sentence. I want to stay longer, but I know she needs her rest. I place a kiss on her head and walk away with a heavy heart, a furious core, and hands that aren't working again. I think Sam and Tucker talk, but my mind is far away from here.

I can't move my hands until we're out of the hospital. My friends lead me to the side of the building, away from the public eye, and Tucker puts his arm over my shoulders and tells me to let it out. So, I throw my hands over my face and cry.