Chapter Text
"Ghosts!"
"Not everything is about ghosts, Dad, take this seriously! Danny is missing!"
How could this have happened?
Were her resolve to find her brother swiftly not as strong as it were, Jazz might've curled up into a ball and cried, right there in Danny's room.
Her parents had been working on breakfast--well, her mother had, her father was tinkering with some undoubtedly dangerous weapon at the table--when they'd been called down to eat. Naturally, she'd made it down after the first call, and Danny taking a bit of time wasn't terribly unusual.
What was unusual was Danny not racing down after hearing their mother announce that the pancakes had little chocolate chips in them. With both parents busy, she'd been the one sent to go check on him. Her knuckles were turning red, throat a little dry, in her attempts to get his attention through the door, but nothing.
Not even a groan? Danny always grumbles at being woken up.
The bed was empty. Cool to the touch like it'd been vacant for awhile, but not made. A glance down the hall to the bathroom--light's off, door closed.
She screamed.
Screamed because of what her brain was trying to process. A sound so full of terror and denial sent her parents up running to her defense, guns blazing. It pierced the calm of the morning, reverberated against the walls, and echoed through the silence, deafening. Overwhelming.
She felt her mind and body go numb while her parents hastily scoured every inch of their home.
Who really did this? What do they want with my brother?
"I'm taking this to the police; Jack, stay here with Jazz." Gone with the sole purpose of finding her little boy Maddie left, but Jack scooped Jazz up, for once not countering that it had to be ghosts, or who else could’ve done this?—no, he sat on the couch, keeping her close and she was grateful.
“It’s gonna be alright, Jazzy-pants, Danny’ll be back home in no time!” But the usual confident cheer lacked from his voice, and it was obvious he was as worried as she was. They stayed in the silence, tormented by their thoughts, and she shifted her head to rest more comfortably against her father’s shoulder. Which was damp, and apparently she really had started to cry now, but she couldn’t tell when.
Why? Why Danny?
“We’ll bring the ghost that did this to justice in no time, just you see!”
No.
She seethed. If she were in one of those cartoons Danny insisted she watch with him all the time, she was pretty sure smoke would be coming out of her ears right about now.
“What?”
Why did her father think anything bad had to do with ghosts? Like humans aren’t capable of wrongdoing? Is it a coping thing? Is it easier to just assume something you’re not similar to to be responsible for all the harm in the world? Thinking like that will only risk Danny’s life more!
“Jazz, what do you mean “no”?”
It was her fault; she’d heard him leave his room last night—all she knew was that it was still rather dark—but had been too tired to see what he was up to, and had carelessly fallen back asleep. Damn if she’d not go out herself to get him back.
“Jazz, where are you going? Jazz! Jasmine!”
Bulky arms picked her back up—
When did I get outside?
—and she was carried back in, reflecting on her thoughts some, and how she’d acted without realizing.
I need to calm down. But how when Danny’s missing and I don’t know where he is?
“Jazzerincess, I know you’re upset, I am too, but you can’t-“
“Did Danny run away?”
It was by far a more reasonable explanation to Danny’s disappearance compared to her father’s theory, in her opinion. Despite the bed not being made—
He always hated doing that anyway—
his room at least looked generally undisturbed; no less disorganized than usual.
“Never! Why would you think that?”
“It didn’t… feel like someone had broken in—and it wasn’t ghosts!”
He sighed, suddenly looking more tired than she’d ever seen him. “Arguing about the “what” isn’t going to find Danny.”
That stung her, and she looked down guiltily.
“For now, until your mom gets back, why don’t you come with me; I could use a second pair of eyes to look more closely for any clues.”
They stood, and went back up to Danny’s room—
If we’re going to find anything, it’ll be in here.
“Have you seen his blanket anywhere?”
She whirled away from his dresser, her father standing over Danny’s twin size bed—
I remember peeking into his crib; and how excited he’d been about getting a “big kid” bed.
She faltered. “No.”
“I wonder if he still has it with him, that could help…” His voice was vacant—he was thinking aloud—but it was true, any potential marker to help identify him if he’s spotted could help. It was a long shot that he’d even still have it, but it was something to start with.
After Danny’s room they checked the rest of the rooms upstairs—but unsurprisingly, there wasn’t any kind of hint left behind.
I need to tell him what I heard last night; they might know what to make of that better than I do.
“Uh, Dad…”
“Find something, Jazzy-pants?” The hope in his voice made her feel guiltier.
“Well, not exactly… Last night. I heard Danny leave his room and—“
“What? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I didn’t want you or mom to be mad at me! It’s my fault, isn’t it?”
“No, no, Jazzy-pants, it’s not. Just- can you tell me what happened after Danny left his room?”
“I don’t know. He went downstairs, but it was dark out and I was too tired to go check up on him. I fell asleep not long after. I should’ve followed him anyway I’m-“
“Don’t blame yourself, Jazz. This is not your fault.” Hearing him speak so seriously was a change that caught her attention and cleared her mind some. “So, you said he went down, did you... Hear anything else?”
“I only heard his footsteps. And I didn’t hear any talking, or any other noise either. He went downstairs alone.”
“Ghost must’ve grabbed him after he made it down then.”
She tried not to be exasperated. He wasn’t going to let go of that theory, she knew. He never did. Once he claimed ghosts it wouldn’t let it rest. But it didn’t make sense. Why risk going into the home of ghost hunters, just to kidnap their son?
Assuming they’re even real.
But she’d seen the portal her parents built, which hardly looked like just an intricately made light source on the far wall, and she could feel her strong disbelief wavering.
“Jack, Jazz, a couple of police detectives have come.”
Going down and seeing the officers hit home wither her how real this all was, that it was really happening and not just a bad dream, and she broke down. This time it was her mother that held her close while her father told them what he knew—from when he’d last seen Danny, if there was any notable strange behavior. Vaguely she heard him recount what she’d told him about last night, but she couldn’t focus on his words or the responses of the detectives. She was in her own world while they poked around the house—
“We’ve already looked everywhere.”
“The only hint we have is that his favorite blanket is gone too.”
The four adults spoke more, questions being asked and answered from both sides; her father made the claim of ghosts once more, blatantly ignored by the cops. Eventually they left with a “We’ll keep you updated,” and the family—sans the youngest member—sat back down at the kitchen table, things looking like they had just a few hours ago, before this mess started.
How long has he really been gone? Hours before we even noticed, probably.
Still in her arms, she clutched the teal material of her mother’s jumpsuit in fear. “We’ll find him, Jazz. Danny’s gonna be okay.”
I hope so, for his sake.