Jazz had bad dreams from time to time. Bad dreams… or maybe just one bad dream, iterating over and over and over, slightly different each time yet somehow exactly the same. When she was little her parents would hear their bedroom door creak open, would see a figure tiptoe over to the crib in the corner, and when they turned the lights on it'd be Jazz, her eyes red and her face blotchy as she struggled to explain.
"I-I just- I wanted to check he was here still," she'd manage, and her eyes would well up again. "I had, I had a scary dream…"
Jack and Maddie worried about her for a little while; they even took her to a doctor, but he'd said some kids just get nightmares at this age. There was nothing to worry about.
And there wasn't. Time passed, and Danny was still here. He got his own bedroom, and the nightly visits from Jazz slowed, then ceased. The nightmares faded into a cute family story about how much little Jazz cared about her brother, and Jazz herself had learned to laugh it off.
It was silly, wasn't it? The idea that Danny would just up and disappear without a trace - it was clearly just some kind of manifestation of her fears, her brain running unconsciously through worst case scenarios, but that didn't mean it meant anything. It was basic psychology, really. She'd learned to scoff at them when they happened.
…because they were. Still happening, that is.
Not as often as they used to, but every now and then, she'd get the strangest feeling of someone missing, someone left behind. She'd find herself in a hallway of family photos looking for one that had her brother in it, and she'd look and she'd look and she'd find herself sprinting down the hall, faces passing her in a blur brightening and brightening until-
She woke up with a gasp, which almost immediately creased into a scowl. Great, one of those dreams again. She'd been starting to think she'd finally grown out of them - I mean, she was fourteen years old, basically an adult! It had to happen soon, right?
Jazz looked out the window, at the first grey lights of dawn peeking through the buildings. Her alarm clock read 5:47 - earlier than she usually got up, but not so much it'd be worth going to sleep again. With a groan, she turned off the alarm, rolled down the covers, and got out of bed.
"Oh, well," She muttered, "I guess I'll get a head start on things."
On things - there were always things to fill Jazz's schedule, and that was the way she liked it. Midterms coming up, projects due, extra credit assignments to work on; she could make some breakfast, and have a little study time to herself before everyone else woke up.
Yeah, that sounded like a good way to start the day.
It was a slow day at the gift shop. The heat was why - tourists liked the summer, but if it got too hot, no one wanted to get out of their air-conditioned cars.
Danny looked around the room, and gave a slight smile. It was funny, the kind of things he knew now. The kind of things that came second nature, after almost twenty years in the Mystery Shack.
Twenty years. Two decades. The smile he'd mustered died on his face at the thought of it, at the thought of his thirty-second birthday coming up fast like a punch to the face, and he tried to put it out of mind.
He looked down again, down at the paper in his hands, and gave a hard swallow.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Fenton,
I hope you're doing good.
'Hope you're doing good' - Danny made a face, and started erasing it. The paper was grey and worn here, thinned from so many previous attempts. He tried again.
Salutations! I'm a researcher from Harvard and I'm very interested in your portal-
Nope, nope, he was never going to pull that off. Danny pressed hard with the eraser, and blinked as it ripped right through.
"Wha- ugh, seriously?" He scowled, and balled it up. "Of course, you stupid little…"
"Whatcha writing there?"
Stan's voice made Danny jump a bit in his seat. He looked up to see he'd popped his head through the doorway to the museum; as Danny watched he made his way up to the counter.
"Uh!" Danny shot a glance at the balled-up paper in his hands, and tossed it away. "Just… letter to the Astronomical Society! I made a mistake, I'll just rewrite it."
"A mistake?" Stan watched him miss the rubbish bin. "Pretty big mistake."
"Yeah, um, I was trying to draw a constellation but it wasn't looking right - really should have my star charts out when I do that! So that's, um…" he tried for a smile. "Nothing unusual!"
Nothing unusual? Danny cringed a little inside - yeah, good job, that totally doesn't sound suspicious. He could see a gleam in Stan's eyes that told him he wasn't buying it at all… but luckily, Stan seemed to shrug it off, and leaned on the counter.
"Well, alright then," he said, and cleared his throat. "I was just looking for our handyman - golf cart's broken again. You seen him?"
Danny rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, I've seen him." He motioned to a toolbox down at the side of the register. "Dropped off his stuff and said he was taking a break - two hours ago."
"You serious?"
"Uh huh."
Stan shook his head as he pushed off the counter. "Unbelievable. This is exactly what I told him he can't be doing - and now, what, I've got to fix the golf cart and do tours? What the hell am I paying him for!"
Danny gave a shrug. Stan glared down at the toolbox.
"Next time that punk shows his face around here I'm firing him. We've got no handyman already - might as well stop paying like we do. I mean, seriously, we're throwing money away!"
"No arguments here," Danny pulled out a PDA from his back pocket. "I'll write up a job ad tonight."
"Hmph. Good." Stan watched him for a moment longer - his eyes flicked down to the papers on his desk, then he turned around. "Anyway, I got tours to do. You let me know if he comes back!"
"Will do!" Danny said, and finished making the reminder. He grinned down at the PDA for a moment, then carefully slid it back into his pocket. Oh, modern technology - he'd never take it for granted again.
Now that Stan was gone, Danny glanced from side to side, and then back down at his paper.
He picked up his pencil, took a deep breath, and put it down on the first line.
Dear Mr. And Mrs. Fenton,
So far so good. Danny thought for a moment, and continued.
I don't know if you'll remember me, but my name is Stanford Pines. We met during your portal test at the University of Wisconsin in 1983.
Danny paused, and swallowed? Was that too specific, or too vague? Too friendly, or too distant? His heart was hammering in his chest - he just wanted to rub it all out, but for once, he pushed himself to keep going.
It was really great to meet you both, even though the test was
A pause. A grimace.
unsuccessful. I want you to know I don't blame you at all, it's not your fault. I really really hope you haven't blamed yourself all these years, it was me, I was being stupid I never should have gone down there and messed with it and I'm so sorry if I ever made you feel
The door jingled - Danny flinched and looked up. It was just a couple of kids, and they gazed back at him with wide eyes. Oops - did he look weird? His throat felt thick, and his eyes were definitely a bit blurry. He reached a shaking hand over to the tissue box and blew his nose; hopefully they'd just think it was hay fever.
He looked again, and the two were gone. Good, he thought, and cleared his throat. He had to be more careful.
He took a shuddering breath, looked down at that messy paragraph, and erased it all.
"Aw, come on candy," said some kid by the vending machine. "Fall!"
Danny didn't pay him much attention. He wiped away the eraser shavings, and kept going.
unsuccessful. Things have been good for me since that day, and I'm now currently working on my own ghost portal prototype. Have you made any more advancements in this field? I would love to hear everything you know about this, and maybe we could work together.
He gave a wry smile. If his Dad didn't respond to that in at least twenty pages, then he was clearly in a very different timeline.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Stanford Pines
Danny sat back like he'd run a mile, and then leaned forward, picked it up, and started reading through it again.
He didn't get far, though. There was a slight sound that drew his attention: a click, and then a slow, careful creaking. It seemed like it was coming from right under him - he frowned, ducked his head, and saw a kid rummaging through the toolbox.
"Huh?" He started, and the kid - a boy in a blue hat - jumped up and hid something behind his back. "Hey, those aren't souvenirs!"
"Oh, um, they're not?"
"No, they're not." Danny crossed his arms. "So whatever you've got behind your back, you can give it to me, yeah?"
The kid hesitated, and a girl in a pink sweater darted up and pointed at something off to the side.
"Whoa, Danny, look out for that ghost!"
"Ghost?" With a frown, Danny glanced behind him. "What do you mean, I don't see a…"
He turned back, and they were gone. A blink, and then he smacked his head.
"Wow, okay. I, uh… I really fell for that." With a snort, he picked up the toolbox. "Look over there, and I looked, and… hah, wow, alright. Glad Stan didn't see that."
He glanced inside the toolbox, but it was so messy he couldn't even tell what was missing. Oh, well. He closed it, and stashed it behind the counter, much closer to him. He looked around one time, then shrugged, and picked the letter back up.
He read it all over, and grimaced as he got to the last line.
Love… he shouldn't sign off with love. He set it down on the counter again, and started erasing.
It was dark in his bedroom. The only light peeked out from a crack in the doorway, casting a narrow beam onto the floor, up the bed frame, and across the starry sheets. There was a lump in them that shifted, groaned, and settled, a shock of black hair on a white pillow that could just barely be made out in the dimness of early morning.
Jazz let out a breath at the sight of her sleeping brother - and immediately, she felt silly. Yup, he was here, just like always. What else did she expect?
Another noise startled her a little; she looked back, and saw a sleeping bag snoring on the floor next to him. Just Tucker - they must've had a sleepover. Everything was fine. Everything was normal - it was.
Jazz glanced one more time back at Danny, smiled, and shut the door. Her stomach rumbled, calling her downstairs, and she made her way into the kitchen.
There was a sound from down in the lab - huh, voices. She'd already known her Dad was up by the lack of snoring as she passed his bedroom, but her Mom must be down there, too.
She wondered a little what they were working on, but that thought was fleeting; she tossed her bag into a chair and went over to the fridge. She opened it slowly, mindful of the science experiments her parents liked to keep in there… but nothing growled or jumped out at her, and when she looked in there were only a few glowing green jars stashed to the side.
Milk was off, though. Jazz made a face as she poured it down the sink. Okay, maybe she'll make some toast.
The bread on the counter wasn't glowing, so she picked out a few slices and dropped them in the toaster. She got out a plate, a knife, some jam, and then stood there, waiting, tapping her nails on the tile.
Yesterday's mail was on the counter in a messy pile. Jazz made a face, and started going through it.
Junk mail, junk mail, yesterday's paper… oh, a letter from Uncle Vlad! She set that down on the table, and kept flipping.
Not much else. More junk mail, a restaurant ad, one of Danny's space magazines… something fell out of the pages of that one. Another letter - she picked it up, and peered at the return address.
Stanford Pines? In Oregon? That was odd… but it was addressed to Mom and Dad, so she shrugged and put it on the table just as her toast popped up.
She spread them with jam, brought it over to the table, fished out a book, and spent a little time enjoying the quiet of the early morning.
But, of course, quiet was only ever a visitor to the Fenton household. Ceiling creaks and muffled laughter indicated Danny was awake; minutes later, she could hear two footsteps stomping down the stairs and giggling at each other.
"But you gotta, dude!" Tucker's voice rang out from the hall. "Come on, what about for your birthday? That's coming up!"
"Mom and Dad aren't gonna get me a video game for my birthday." Danny wandered into the kitchen. "Besides, where am I gonna play Doomed? The only computer is downstairs, and Jazz is always hogging it to do homework or whatever - oh, hey, Jazz."
"Morning, you two." Jazz arched an eyebrow. "And speaking of homework-"
Danny darted to the fridge. "Rather not, thanks."
"I'm just saying, if you want Mom and Dad to buy you Doom or whatever-"
"It's called Doomed, Jazz."
"-if you want them to buy you Doomed, maybe you could bump up those grades a little! I'd let you use the computer for that."
"Or maybe you could tell them it's about ghosts," Tucker grinned. "I heard Level 3 is filled with all these ghost enemies - you could say you wanna train to be a ghost hunter!"
Both Danny and Jazz snorted at that. "He could do that," Jazz said, "if he wants to hang out in the lab with Dad for a week straight."
"Yeah, trust me, Tuck, that is the last thing I wanna say to him." Danny scanned the fridge. "Hey, where's the milk?"
"It was off so I threw it out." Jazz got to her feet. "I can make you toast?"
"It was off?" Danny frowned. "It was fine yesterday."
"There was no way it was fine yesterday - don't tell me…"
"It tasted fine yesterday - I mean, I guess it was a little sour-"
"Eww!" Jazz swatted at him. "Ugh, boys are so gross! I'm making you two toast."
She started on that, and Danny and Tucker sat at the table chattering about their game. Jazz smiled a little at that - then there was an explosion from the lab, and she frowned.
"What was that?" Danny got up and opened the door. "Mom? Dad? You guys okay?"
"We're right as rain down here, Dann-o!" Came her Dad's booming voice, and her slight concern turned into an eyeroll. "Just overclocked the Fenton Drill and it exploded in my face! Whoo, that'll wake you up!"
Tucker's eyes were saucers, but Danny and Jazz just shook their heads at each other.
"Uh, okay," he called down the stairs. "Glad you're not dead, see you-"
"Danny?" Her mother's voice cut in. "What are you doing up? It's way past your bedtime, young man!"
"It's morning, Mom."
"It's…? Oh! Well, have a nice day at school, sweetie!"
"It's morning?" Her Dad's voice suddenly got louder. "Oh, wow, we've been up all night, no wonder I'm so hungry! I gotta have breakfast!"
Jack burst into the kitchen just as the toast popped up.
"Toast!" He grinned at Jazz. "Wow, I forgot I automated this thing! Where's the Fenton Jam?"
"Right here, Dad." Jazz passed it over, and put another two slices in the toaster. "You guys were up all night?"
"Sure were, Jazzerincess! We're working on our best invention yet!" The table shuddered as he sat down, and he grinned at Danny and Tucker. "You kids wanna hear about it?"
Danny opened his mouth-
"What am I saying, of course you do! It's called the Ghost Portal - we've been working on this baby since college, and I think we've finally got the kinks worked out! We broke ground last night - we're drilling a hole in the side of the basement!"
"A hole?" Jazz arched an eyebrow. "Is that safe? Or legal?"
"Ah, probably! But that's not important - you see, this ghost portal, it's gonna change the game!" Jack took a bite of toast. "Y'schee, e'eyone shinks we'e crackpo's, bu' onesh thish por'al'sh up-" he swallowed. "No one's gonna be able to say they don't exist!"
"Oh-kay." Tucker gave a little laugh. "Good luck with that, I guess."
"Thanks, random kid! You know, Danny, even your old uncle Vladdie thinks we're nuts for trying it again- oh, hey!" He picked up the letters. "He sent us a letter!"
"Yeah, you got two letters." Jazz watched him look at one, and then the other. "I don't know who the other one's from."
"Why that's, um…" Jack grinned as he looked at the return address… but Jazz could see it freeze on his face as his eyes widened and the blood seemed to drain away. "That's… I can't believe it."
He ripped open the envelope, grabbed the letter inside and started reading. The utter silence… to Jazz, it was almost eerie, and when she looked to Danny she could see the same concern in his eyes. The toast popped up, and she jumped at the sound.
Eventually, Danny leaned forward. "Uh," he started. "Dad? Who's that from?"
"I…" Her dad got to the end, and looked up. "I can't believe it."
Tucker frowned. "Can't believe what, Mr. Fenton?"
"I can't believe it! This is… sufferin' spooks, this is amazing!" His shock was turning into a bright beaming grin; he got up from his chair, dashed over to the lab, and threw the door open. "Maddie! Maddie, come quick!"
"What?"
"Come here! Come on! You're not gonna believe this!"
Maddie was up in a flash, a blaster in her hands. "What is it, Jack! What's the-"
"The kid! It's the kid!"
Maddie blinked as the letter was shoved in her face. "The- the what?"
"From college, you remember! The kid, the - Stanford! He's okay!" Jack beamed at her. "And he wants to work on the portal with us! Isn't that amazing, Maddie!"
"Stanford…" a flash of recognition washed through her. "Oh, yes, I remember! He's okay?"
"He's okay!" Jack hugged her, and then immediately pushed himself off and started charging around the house. "I've gotta tell Vladdie! I've gotta - where's the paper, Mads! I've gotta write back, I've gotta…"
Maddie followed him, and their two voices faded to a blur of excitement. Jazz frowned at that, and picked up the ripped envelope with the return address on it.
"Stanford Pines…" She read out, and looked to Danny. "Any idea who this is?"
"Nnnope."
"Me neither." She said, although there was something about the handwriting that was… oddly familiar. She couldn't place it though, so she shrugged it off and put it back down. "Mom and Dad are so weird sometimes. Anyway, here's your toast. You better eat it quick; it's almost time for school."
One last glance at the letter, before Jazz zipped up her bag, slung it over her back, and headed for the door.
Sometimes, ghost powers didn't sound so bad to Stan. And it wasn't for the obvious reasons - sure, walking through walls and disappearing could've gotten him out of tight spots over the years, but he didn't need anything more than his wits to do that already. He could get himself in and out of trouble better than anyone he knew… but there was one thing that was catching up to him scarily fast.
Stan stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, and took a breath.
"Alright, Stan, here we go," he grumbled, and started to sit up. His back hurt, his legs ached; he got his feet down on the floor, and muttered a steady stream of curses as he rose out of bed.
Getting old was terrible. And he wasn't even old - he was in his damn forties! Meanwhile, Danny's still passing for a teenager after twenty years… Stan shook his head as he kicked on some slippers.
He headed down for breakfast, the stairs of the old Shack creaking with every step. The newspaper was on the porch; Stan opened the door, and grimaced as he bent down to pick it up. A couple letters, too; he put the paper under his arm as he shuffled through them all. Great, mostly bills, wasn't that just- huh.
Stan looked at one, addressed to a Mr. Stanford Pines. It was usually Dr. Stanford Pines. And the return address… Stan shuffled back into the house, closed the door, and looked upstairs.
"Danny?" He called out. No answer. "Hello! You there, kid?"
Nothing. He was probably out doing who knows what… which meant he wasn't around to mind if Stan helped himself to some interesting reading material over breakfast today.
Stan dumped the newspaper in the trash as he made his way to the kitchen. If this meant what he thought it did, it was definitely going to be very interesting.
Danny wasn't gone for very long. He'd driven the car back, and Stan could hear the tires crunching on gravel as they pulled into the parking lot. The trunk swung open, and Stan could hear whistling and the rustle of plastic bags. There were no sounds of footsteps; the trunk closed, and a few seconds later Danny phased through the door.
"Oh, hey Stan!" Danny shrugged off his headphones as he came in; he dumped two arms full of grocery bags on the counter and opened the fridge. "Thought I'd do a shopping run - you know, I swear every time I go into town the people get weirder. Have you noticed that? I ran into Lazy Susan in the checkout line and she asked me what pancakes I was ordering today… heh, and I say I'm not a morning person."
Stan just looked at him for a moment. "Yeah," he said, quietly. "Weirder every year… hey, uh, kid, can you come over here?"
"Just a sec, I've got frozens." Danny snorted. "Also, when are you gonna stop calling me kid?"
"Probably when you stop looking like a kid."
He scoffed. "Ugh, any day now, please. Last time I was driving the sheriff pulled me over and asked if my license was fake… I mean it is, but he doesn't ask you that!"
"Could always fly."
"To get groceries? Oh, no, I tried that once - the bags broke over the town square and everyone thought it was raining Pitt Cola and ice cream." Danny chuckled to himself. "Would've been a good prank if I meant to do it."
"Hah!" Stan gave a snort. "I never heard that one before."
"Probably because I didn't tell you." He glanced back to grin at Stan. "I thought you'd laugh at me."
"You weren't wrong, kid!" Stan chuckled and shook his head; he looked back to the letter, and his grin shrank a little. "You, ah, you weren't wrong."
Danny was walking over now. "So what did you need me for?" He noticed the letter in Stan's hand. "What's that?"
"Well, that's the whole question, isn't it." He handed it over. "I got it in the mail today - it's from Jack and Madeline Fenton."
A hundred expressions flashed past Danny's face - shock and excitement… and then, looking back at Stan, a sudden guilt.
"And it's signed, ah, from Stanford Pines." Stan watched Danny shrink back from him. "Mind telling me why my brother's writing to your parents about our secret portal, Danny?"
"Okay, this looks bad." Danny put up his hands. "I know this looks bad, a-and I was gonna tell you-"
"Well the cat's out of the bag, it doesn't matter if you were gonna tell me!"
"I know, I know, I just - I felt weird about it!" Danny rubbed his neck. "You see, I, I used Stanford's name when I met them in college - I didn't know he was your brother yet, but that's the name he knows me by-"
"Stanford Pines?"
"Well, just Stanford back then, but…" Danny grimaced. "I guess I could have thought of a different last name."
"Yeah, you really could've! Smith? Jones? Hell, you could've been Stanford Tree for all I care!"
"Okay, I get it, but - well, he doesn't know who the real Stanford is-"
"Yeah, but I'm Stanford right now! What are we gonna do if your folks rock up to the Shack and see you next to Stanford Pines?"
"They're not gonna come to the Mystery Shack-"
"You don't think so? He has our address, and you better read that letter. Long story short, your dad really wants to visit." Stan watched the blood drain from Danny's face. "You see now? Why this is a problem?
"Uh… yeah." Danny sank into a chair. "Yeah, I… I see."
"Yeah. This was not your smartest move, kid." Stan rubbed his forehead. "And look, I get you wanna see your family - believe me, I get it. But you told them about the portal?"
"I just said I was working on a prototype - I thought, I thought maybe they could give us some new information?"
"But you told them we're working on a portal." Stan groaned, and pinched his forehead. "You told them - I don't mean to be rude, kid, and I don't know your pops, but I did not read that letter and come out thinking he's the kind of guy to keep his mouth shut."
"He's, uh, he's not." Danny tried for a smile. "Usually... usually people don't really take him seriously, though?"
"Agh, but it only takes one." Stan sat there for another moment, and then straightened up. "Danny, did you tell anybody else about the portal?"
"No."
"Are you sure? Anyone at all?"
"No, I didn't." Danny shook his head. "I swear."
"Okay." He stared at Danny a moment longer, then let him go. "This is a mess… but, fine, we can't go back. If you had, ah, told me you were thinking about reaching out to your folks, I might've been a bit more excited about those schematics they sent over - but I'm glad they're here, I guess." He watched Danny take one out and start to unfold it. "You're right, they're way different from our portal, but at least they're complete. Maybe we can do something with them… Maybe tonight." He took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "I got a headache, though. I'm gonna go lie down."
He rose to his feet, and left Danny sitting alone at the table. He was at the doorway when Danny spoke again.
"Stan," he said. "I'm… I'm really sorry."
Stan looked back and met his eyes. Danny gave a helpless shrug.
"I didn't… I really didn't think this through, I should have told you. I'm sorry."
A pause, and then Stan let out a sigh. "I know you are," he said, and grimaced. "I get it, we've both been waiting so long now. But we can't start getting sloppy. And we can't start lying to each other, okay? Not about this." For a moment, Stan stared through him. "It all falls apart if we do."
Danny nodded, but it seemed there was nothing left to say. Stan lingered there for another moment, and then started back upstairs.
Every step creaked too loud, and Stan wondered if anyone was listening.
