It took Jazz a moment to realize her phone was ringing. Spike had to ask her if the sound interrupting their little therapy session was her phone, but when she noticed, she paled. She pulled out her phone and saw the caller id listed as Amity Park Hospital. Tucker had set up something so that when - not if - the hospital called her house, the call would be redirected to her phone.

"I'm sorry, Spike, but I need to take this," she said calmly.

Spike looked her up and down. "Sure," he replied, voice quiet. "Do you need help?"

"Maybe," she said, answering the phone. "Hello, Jazz Fenton speaking. Who am I speaking to?"

"Hi, this is Doctor Martin. I'm looking for Jack or Madeline Fenton?"

Jazz took a deep breath. "They are my parents, but they're not available at the moment. I can pass along a message?"

"They need to hear this immediately," the doctor said firmly.

"May I know what this is about?"

The doctor hesitated for a moment. "There's been an accident. Daniel Fenton was injured and is currently in our care at the hospital."

Jazz stood up. "I'll be there in a few minutes; you'll find that all the paperwork is in place for me to make decisions for Daniel if necessary." Jazz begrudgingly thanked Vlad for pushing along so much paperwork. She wasn't sure if he had done that out of a desire to keep Danny's halfa status hidden from his parents, or just so he could drive a wedge between Danny and the rest of the family, but Jazz was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I… Okay, I'll look for that. I would appreciate it if you'll pass along the message to your parents."

"I will," Jazz lied, hanging up the phone. She turned toward Spike. "I'm sorry, Spike, we'll have to cut this short."

"That's fine," Spike said, looking up from his own phone. "What's going on?"

"Danny's in the hospital. The doctor implied it was urgent."

"Want me to drive you?" Spike offered, putting his phone in his pocket.

"No offense, Spike, but you aren't a Fenton."

Spike let out a quiet hum before saying, "I'll stay off the roads until tomorrow."

"That's probably a good idea," Jazz said, calmly walking away from Spike. She approached her car and took out the fob, unlocking the door and sliding into the front seat. She put on her seatbelt and started the car.

She took a deep breath and then put the car into reverse.

And floored it.

She yanked the steering wheel around and spun the car in the parking lot. With an ease that was completely at odds with her calm and methodical personality, she put the car into drive before it had completely faced forward. Slamming down on the gas, she peeled out of the school parking lot.

Almost immediately, she passed by a police car, who began trying to pull her over. She didn't stop as his lights went on and his siren went off.

However, after he ran her plates, the sirens turned off, and he slowed back down to normal speeds. Amity park was a small town, and the Fentons were well known. The Fentons were never pulled over, ever. Perks of being one of the only ones capable of responding to the ghost threats.

A twenty-minute drive was reduced to five, and Jazz parked in the hospital parking lot. She got out of her car and slammed the door, not bothering to lock it.

She walked into the hospital and up to the receptionist. "Excuse me. I'm here because my little brother is in the hospital? Daniel Fenton."

The receptionist looked up at her. "Room 444," she stated with a calm resulting from dealing with a million crises every day.

Jazz nodded and made her way to the elevator. After waiting for fifteen seconds, she turned toward the stairway. Jazz might not have been a ghost hunter like Danny or her parents, but she still trained like she was one. She took each flight of stairs in two steps; she made it to the fourth floor in almost no time at all. Doctors and nurses glanced at her as she walked by, but she paid them no mind.

She found the room and found Danny sitting upright in the bed, bandaged heavily. The bandages were red with blood, but Jazz could see hints of green ectoplasm.

The doctor turned toward Jazz. "Ah, you're here. That was quick." He looked over at Danny, "He, uh… he's doing surprisingly well, but…"

Jazz glanced over at her brother, who had the gall to smile and wave. "If you don't mind, I'd like some time with my brother?"

The doctor nodded. "Of course! Did you message your parents?"

Jazz grimaced, not needing to fake it. Trying to hide this from their parents was going to be almost impossible. "Oh, I did, but they're out of signal, for now. No idea when they'll see it."

"That's… highly unfortunate." The doctor turned, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes to schedule the surgery."

Jazz nodded. "Thank you, doctor." The doctor gently closed the door. As soon as it clicked, Jazz whirled about. "Danny! What the hell!"

Danny waved his arms about animatedly. "Jazz! Thank god you're here! How do we tell them not to cut off my legs?"

"Oh my god, Danny, what the hell happened! I thought you said it was just the Box Ghost!"

Danny blushed, though it was more green than red, which was a bad sign; it meant he was really low on blood. "It was!"

"Danny!"

"Somehow, he figured that a wood chipper was a box maker!"

"What kind of twisted troll logic is that?" Jazz shouted, pulling at her hair.

"You're telling me?" Danny growled, "You're not the one who got your leg trapped in it!"

"Oh my god, Danny!" Jazz marched over and yanked the blanket off of Danny's lap, revealing a horrific mangled mess of a leg. "You know, I expected worse."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad when I got here."

"Wait, it was worse?"

Danny rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm working on it."

"What do you mean you're working on it?"

"I'm working on it."

Jazz looked up at Danny and noticed a lack of any IV's. "This is really bad. Why aren't you on morphine or something?"

Danny shrugged. "I've had worse."

"Danny, your leg looks like ground beef cooked in ectoplasm!"

"You take a dive in a ghost portal and then you can tell me I should be worried about my leg!" Danny counted, pulling the blanket back over his leg. "Anyways, I didn't want to risk saying something stupid, so I told them our insurance doesn't cover painkillers."

Jazz put a hand to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god."

"Jazz…" Danny began warningly, "does our insurance not cover painkillers?"

Jazz ignored that. Instead, she pinched her nose. "I can't leave you alone, for five minutes…"

"Hey!" Danny shouted, incensed, "You've left me-"

"FOR FIVE MINUTES, DANIEL FENTON!"

Danny's jaw clicked shut.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but we need Vlad," Jazz began.

"Oh, hell no! Let's just cut off my legs."

"Danny!"

"Jazz! He's going to be insufferable!"

"You can't just cut off your legs so you don't have to deal with him!"

"Watch me!" Danny snapped, his eyes flashing green for just a moment. "Mom and Dad will have new legs for me in a week! And they'll probably have built-in cup holders!"

Jazz put her hands on her hips. "Daniel James Fenton!"

Danny folded his arms. "You know that's not my middle name."

"Don't care, you're a James now. I've decided."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"You know what also doesn't make any sense? GETTING YOUR LEG MULCHED BY THE BOX GHOST!"

Danny threw his hands up in the air. "I know! He's going to be insufferable!"

Jazz pulled out her phone. "Anyways, I'm calling Vlad and getting you transferred out so we can fix this."

Danny started floating off the bed. "No! No! Don't you dare!"

"Don't be such a baby!"

"Hey, I'm the one with a-"

The door clicked, and the doctor came back in. "Excuse me, are you ready to talk?"

Jazz looked at Danny, who was back on the bed, with his arms folded in a huff. "Yes, actually," Jazz said calmly, looking back at the doctor, "though if you don't mind, may I make a phone call? I'd like to involve a family friend who has some medical experience."

The doctor raised an eyebrow, obviously disbelieving that there was any recourse other than amputation. "Oh, of course," the doctor said. "I'll be right back then."

The doctor left, leaving the door open. Danny grumbled from his spot on the bed. "I still say you shouldn't call him."

"You lost decision-making privileges when you lost to the box ghost."

"You think I lost? You should see what happened to him!"