Only Half

Peace

Valerie had left the Fentons' not long after Jazz had begun talking to Jack and Maddie at the door. Danny's older sister had managed to strike a distracting conversation with ease, asking her mother whether she had any time in her busy ghost-hunting career to review her newest psychology thesis for errors. Of course, there weren't any, and she didn't actually need Maddie to look it over, but it took up a bit of their time nonetheless.

As Maddie scrolled through the tedious pages of Jazz's thesis, located on her personal laptop at the moment, Jack had taken to rummaging through the fridge in an attempt to find the remnants of the fudge he had nearly finished the day before. As Maddie finished reading Jazz's documents, she smiled at her daughter warmly, handing her back the laptop as she said, "It sounds great, sweetie." She then began busying herself with preparing dinner.

Jazz took the chance of her parents' occupation in the kitchen to see what the situation was upstairs. She traveled up pretty fast, leaving her laptop on the desk in her room before heading towards her brother's. Upon stepping through the open doorway, Jazz could see both Sam and Tucker sitting against the walls near Danny's bed. Danny was passed out and sleeping soundly, and Jazz could immediately tell that he wasn't the only one who was exhausted. She could see the slump of Tucker's shoulders and the restless expression that laid in Sam's eyes. They had been worried sick for too long a time. Jazz had been too, but... She tried her best not to overdo it or make it too obvious (she tended to get carried away and turn in to a nervous wreck.

She smiled faintly, turning off the light and giving Sam a smile. Tucker had dozed off in the few minutes she had been in the room, and Sam smiled back at her. Jazz could see peace in her eyes. A tired peace. As if her world had been taped together and was finally mending itself not long after being shattered into a million broken pieces.

With that, Jazz crept out the room and closed the door, returning to her parents who she meant to keep busy for the remainder of the evening.

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The next few days were concerning, to say the least. Jazz especially knew how fragile Danny's life was going to be over the course of his recovery. He had made it through the worst, yes, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. But so far, two days later, all seemed well. It was currently the afternoon, and Jazz had finally convinced Danny to eat more than just breakfast for the day. He'd been refusing lunch and dinner previously on account of a gentle stomach and a faint headache. Jazz had let it go then, but now it was time to crack down a bit.

Her brother was getting much better, and color was returning to his face again, though he had always been a bit pale. Jazz smiled at him now, making idle conversation as he finished up some leftover pasta from the fridge (thankfully it wasn't alive this time). "How are you feeling, little brother?" she asked Danny as an attempt to fill in the silence.

"Better. A lot better," replied the halfa, smiling up genuinely at his sister. Though in the past he had always found her repetitive worry irritating, now he almost appreciated it. It was nice to know that he still had his family and friends, even in his worst hours. That was his greatest fear, after all... Not to have them there to catch him when he fell.

"I'm glad," said Jazz, just as Danny finished the spaghetti. She stood halfway up from her chair before she was stopped by Danny. Her younger brother waved his hand in a "I got this" gesture before picking up his plate and taking it to the sink. Jazz stood up fully before raising an eyebrow, the slightest quirk of a smile to the edge of her lips. "Are you sure you don't want me to do it? You hate washing the dishes, and well..." She trailed off, for once unsure of what else to say besides the obvious.

Danny chuckled lightly, "Jazz, stop worrying. I'm fine. See?" He held up the dripping plate which was only half covered in soap so far. "And I don't think washing one of the dishes is too much of a strain. Besides, it's almost my turn anyway."