Chapter Text
Jazz has had it about up to here, with these so called ghosts, with her parents dangerous obsession and neglect that bordered on abuse, with the town even vaguely entertaining all this foolishness, with a skin tight costume wearing wannabe vigilante. She couldn’t do much of anything about the seeming mass hallucinations. She couldn’t do anything about her parents, she’s spent years trying after all. She couldn’t do anything about the town as a whole, even if she’s still trying to figure out why everyone’s decided that now is the time to go along with her parents insanity. However she can at least try to do something about the vigilante, she can talk to him and try to get it through his head that feeding into this was bad and if someone real took him seriously he could get really hurt.
It wasn’t like it would be all that difficult to chase the boy down, he got spotted multiple times a day so all she had to do was wait for a ‘ghost sighting’ and track him down. She, once again, was proven to be firmly correct. She’s easily able to spot him at the next ‘ghost’ sighting; she’d really like to figure out what was causing so many people to either have hallucinations or to just be going along with certain people’s delusions.
The thing that gets her though… is he is actually glowing from head to toe. How? Some sort of spray perhaps? That seemed like a lot of effort just to play into all this foolishness. Was this a teen who genuinely desperately wished to be ‘a superhero’ and thus took the first chance he could get? That was incredibly unhealthy and spoke of a very unbalanced and unkind childhood. Neglect perhaps? Or parentification maybe? Trying to make up for childhood feelings of helplessness?
Now how to best get his attention? pretending to be injured or under attack posed the risk of attracting her parents or genuinely worrying the teen. She couldn’t simply wait around to talk to him, as he was known to not stick around after catching ‘the ghost’. Perhaps she can flex her big sister muscles and point aggressively at the ground in his direction? he looked young enough that that very well might work.
Well that’s the best she’s got so that’s what she does. Waving in the air at the teen and then pointing at the ground very firmly with a ‘you better come here, mister’ eyebrow. The teen looking cautious and unsure as he lowers himself to the ground, her absently wondering how he’s managing this floating ability; cords? a wire system? magnets?
The teen giving an awkward, “yes, random citizen?”. Oh he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t know exactly who she is, with her parents it’s no surprise that a so called ‘ghost’ would know them and thusly her. Her parents have talked about shooting at him, she’s been on the receiving end of their inventions enough to know how unpleasant that could be.
Jazz crossing her arms at the ghost, “I think it’s about time we talked”. The teen seems more fidgety at that, and she doesn’t want him running off. Gesturing at a bench and making a point to smile softly, comfortingly, “how about we sit down? It’s nothing bad, I promise. I just want to understand why you’re doing this?”.
Somehow she gets the feeling that actually annoys him but he sighs, ‘lands’ on the ground, and walks with her to a more out of eye sight picknick table than the bench she’d pointed out. Was he paranoid of being seen in general? Or of being seen talking to her specifically? The later she could understand due to her parents reputation, but the former? If it’s the former then she’s even more confused and concerned over why he’s doing this… unless he’s suffering from genuine delusions himself and truly believes his ‘heroics’ are necessary.
What she gets from him is snark, defensive snark. He’s absolutely paranoid and nervous. “So what does the daughter of the ghost hunters constantly shouting about shooting me and how I’m evil, want with me?”, him gesturing at her body, “you aren’t armed so doubt they sent you to try and shoot me”.
Even though he’s being defensive, he’s not wrong either. Her parents did shoot at him and did tell everyone they could that all ‘ghosts’ including ‘the ghost boy’ were evil ‘ectoplasmic’ manifestations of ‘post human consciousness’. If ghosts were somehow real, which they were not, it would make sense to behave defensively regarding her parents and anyone closely associated with them. She puts her hands up in a surrendering motion for a few seconds, “no ‘weapons’ or ‘inventions’ I promise. I meant what I said, all I want is to know why you’re doing everything. I’d simply like to ask you some questions and hope to get honest answers in return”.
He seems… more annoyed but less fidgety, less paranoid. He believes her but finds what she’s doing annoying. Perhaps he’s been taken to therapists before? And has had less than positive interactions with them for one reason or another? She’s fully aware that the wrong therapist to patient relationship can do more harm than good, and that there are bad actors out there and those who are simply looking for the paycheck. Unfortunate, but true. “I’m going to be annoyed if this winds up on the news but alright”, making ‘go ahead’ gestures at her, “ask your questions”.
Jazz’s response is near automatic, “I believe in absolute confidentiality, it will not”. He eyes her with those green eyes, expensive contacts she imagines, and seems to take her word for it. So she asked her first question, “throughout your childhood, have you always had an inclination towards vigilantism? A desire to monitor your environment for signs of deviance or punish those who do wrong onto others, perhaps?”.
The teen scoffs, actually scoffs, at her, “my home is and was always ‘deviant’, looking for that would be dumb. And I don’t like bullies sure, but no, I’ve never wanted to ‘punish’ people’”, he shakes his head softly, like he’s trying to be gentle with her, “I’m not a vigilante, I’m not fighting crime or evil doers or whatever. I’m not Batman or robin and I’m not trying to be. I’m just protecting people and ghosts, and a little bit of socialising”.
She’s not one hundred percent sure if he’s simply really good at going along with the ‘ghost’ bit or if he actually believes in them. “So you would describe what you’re doing as ‘protecting the masses from harm’ then, yes? Would you say that’s for people’s general physical safety or for protecting societal integrity and status quo?”. There was a very big difference between the two after all. “And why would you seek to go about protecting in this manner? Rather than working towards a career in a protective field, such as a police officer or fireman?”.
Now this, he actually looks like he’s genuinely considering her question before responding, “physical safety, of everyone including myself. Your parents are menaces.-”. She can’t argue that last statement. “-I never wanted those kinds of jobs, I didn’t really even want this one at first”, shrugging, “no one else was or could, no offence but also full offence, deal with all the ghosts causing problems”.
… He might actually genuinely believe this ghost thing. She can acquiesce that if ghosts were somehow real that her parents would not actually be all that great at dealing with them. Her dad was far too forgetful and easy going, while her mom would be held back by her dad. The fact that everyone justly thought them insane wouldn’t help either. “Physical safety, of others and ourselves is important, however aren’t you putting yourself in danger by doing this? From ‘ghost hunters’, yes like my parents, and the ‘ghosts’?”; it’s incredibly hard to keep the disbelief out of her voice but she needs to tackle the ‘superhero’ identity first. Maybe getting him to see how illogical and backwards it ultimately was would help break the delusion.
“Obviously I’m putting myself in danger, but I am either way-”. That makes her furrow her eyebrows at him. “-nearly every fight I get into I did not start, they’re picking fights with me. Some super directly by literally hunting me down to try and beat me up for one reason or another. Others are more invading my territory I guess, and harming those people and objects inside it”; it looks like that genuinely really bothers him on a deep level.
Now if he is actually just being attacked by these mass hallucinations or projections perhaps then self defence did make sense. But if these were mass hallucinations why would they be specifically targeting one person like this? That wouldn’t make sense. Now if they’re projections that someone, who is definitely insane, is creating then why are they going after this one teen so much? “Do you believe you know why you’re being targeted so much? Outside of my parents being crazy”. As for him being apparently territorial… “and why do you view Amity as your territory?”. Yes people did often claim their city or town as part of them and then part of it, but to be explicitly territorial and possessive was abnormal.
He actually chuckles a little, “outside of your parents being crazy, it varies. They usually tell me why, though Boxy seems to just be looking to get beat up? Or he is insanely nuts about how strong and scary he is. The Lunchlady threw stoves at me because her food got messed with. Skulker wants to skin me, which is very gross and something I want nothing to do with. Plasmius is angry I won’t ’let him adopt me’, and wants to constantly try to prove he’s better and stronger than me in every way. I could go on”, sighing, “as for the town? It’s just is my town? That’s really all there is to it. It’s mine and other ghosts aren’t welcome to harm anything inside it”. He says that like it’s a given, like it’s obvious and simple, like it’s not supremely abnormal and unhealthy.
If someone is indeed creating and controlling projections then they are a very cruel person, as it seems that this teen genuinely believes these reasonings; meaning it is unlikely this is some sort of game or set up that the teen is in the know on. “What if the ‘other ghosts’ aren’t doing any harm? Would they be welcome then?”.
He blinks, looking a bit confused and surprised by that question, before humming to himself, it vibrates oddly. “I suppose so. If Cujo was less accidentally destructive I’d be fine with him running around, he’s pretty much just a dog after all. A green dog but still just a dog. And Piondexter I would leave alone since I know he doesn’t actually mean harm, he just really hates bullies and unties their shoes and shit”.
Right, that Valerie girl claimed a ‘large green dog’ had gotten her dad fired and destroyed practically all of their belongs and that said dog belonged to ‘the ghost boy’. This ‘Poindexter’ though, “I’ve heard the ‘stories’ about the ‘green dog’, but I can’t say I’m familiar with Piondexter”.
The teen shrugs, “he lives in a mirror in that ‘haunted locker’ in Casperhigh, he can kinda use it like a personal portal”.
Oh not that stupid rumour. Of course who or what ever is causing all of this included that into everything. “Is there any others that seem tied to local myth and legend?”.
The teen shakes his head immediately actually, “no. Piondexter seems more like a coincidence than the trend.-”. Why would only one local legend be utlisied and not all of them? Strange. “-Just like how most of the ghosts want to fight and cause some chaos, so him being mostly chill isn’t the trend either”.
Honestly, that sounded a bit like her parent’s view of ghosts, just far less inhumane and illogical. This teen believed the ‘ghosts’ wanted to fight and cause chaos out of fun, it seems. Whereas her parents just thought they were inherently evil, living hating, monsters. She can admit this teens view point is far more logical. “So you believe these ‘ghosts’ are doing this out of enjoyment? Rather than being villains, or evil for that matter”.
“Some are just assholes, like people who pickpocket people in wheelchairs. Fighting is just, kinda part of how ghosts socialise, most aren’t actually trying to seriously hurt me or the citizens, they just forget how fragile the living can be; and that I’m not a freaking mind reader. Also more than a few of the ghosts who’ve shown up here have been to jail multiple times”.
So there’s some sort of judiciary system in his mind? Or is this something conjured up by the projection controller? A way to make it seem more believable perhaps? But in that case wouldn’t it make more sense to simply go along with what her parents say fully and have them be simply evil monsters? She will give this some credit on being a bit more complex than she had initially thought though. “Do you know how this jailing system works?”.
He blushes… green? How? At that, “not really, no. I do know that each prison is basically ran like a freaking dictatorship by the warden though, and that the prison that’s super close to your parents portal, you know on the ghost side, is ran by a hardass with a serious sadistic streak”.
She blinks, he says that like he’s been ‘on the other side’ of her parents contraption -because she is not calling it a freaking portal, that’s absurd- and like there actually is something on the other side of it. “You’ve been to this ghost side?”; that question is pure curiosity, no diagnosis involved.
He quirks an eyebrow at her, “of course? Every ghost has? That’s kinda where we’ve all come from?”, running a hand through his impossibly pure white hair, that she honestly thought was a wig but up close she can tell that’s not the case. “Honestly? The ghost problem is that portals fault”, gesturing with his hands, “your parents made a permanent, frequently opening, pass into the living world. Of course ghosts were going to take advantage of that, they know exactly where and when they’ll come out and they have a guaranteed ticket home. Which fine, I do speed along, since I just send every ghost I catch back, but that’s not the cause for them being here in the first place”. He eyes her for a beat before sighing and giving her an amused smirk, “you don’t believe in ghosts, do you? You think this is all a big conspiracy, or mass hallucinations, or projections, or just a bunch cock and bull people are making up for some reason. Am I right?”.
The way he says that tells her that she was right that he wasn’t ready to have to face that reality yet. Sighing at him and trying to be gentle about shaking her head, “no. No I do not. The idea of souls alone is unproven and highly unlikely. The idea of those souls creating their own forms out of energy and existing in a connected realm seems too far fetched. This isn’t a belief in the afterlife as a form of coping with death, which would be perfectly healthy and often religiously significant”.
“So if you don’t believe in ghosts, why are you even talking to me?”. He obviously thinks she believes that he’s one of these ‘ghosts’.
She shakes her head at him, “you’re not fantastical like all the images and reported sightings of ghosts are. You’re physical, you always read as more solid and human. A teen who’s dressed up and seen a chance to be the hero they’ve always wanted to be perhaps. Your behaviours vary according to situation, you have clear fight or flight. Your behaviour shows far more than simple: show up, cause chaos, and leave”. She’s not going to tell him that she hasn’t quite decided if he’s simply experiencing the same hallucinations or projections as everyone else, or is actually suffering delusional issues.
For whatever reason that makes him more nervous. He makes an aborted attempt to rub his neck before seemingly releasing that wasn’t very ‘professional hero’ of him, clearing his throat, “you pay way too much attention, geez”, shaking his head and frowning at her in a way that feels like pity, “spend any amount of time around any ghost and you’ll find the same stuff. Skulker makes awesome lemon creme pies and has a girlfriend. Technus keeps changing up his style to seem ‘cool’. Half the time Johnny and Kitty show up it’s because they’re having a lovers spat again. They’re people. Your parents aren’t crazy ‘cause they believe in ghosts, they’re crazy because they think ghosts are emotionless evil monsters.-”. So he’s delusional, not good… but outright dismissing him would do no good. He puts a hand to his chest, “-I’m not dressed up in some costume, or wearing contacts, or using some glow spray. I died in this, and no you don’t get to ask about the how of that”, he stares a bit before continuing, “I don’t breath, Jazz Fenton, does that sound alive to you? I certainly pretend to around humans, because they get freaked out otherwise. If you hook me up to an ekg you’ll get a whole lotta nothin’. If you were as cold as I am you would be severely hypothermic and dying”, and for the first time a so called ‘ghost’ touches her.
He’s solid yet feels like static, and he’s right, his skin feels ice cold. How? He’s solid, clearly a person. A bit unintentionally she watches his chest, it doesn’t move. No rise and fall. Nothing. Her furrowing her brows at him, still holding his arm, “this doesn’t make sense”.
The teen shrugs at her, “since when does everything ever make sense? I’m dead, that’s really all there is to it. Ghosts are cool with being dead so it doesn’t bother us, but at least I’m aware that the living aren’t super cool with death. You believe I’m real and all the others aren’t because I act more like what you know, aka, living humans”.
She frowns, could that really be the case? Her parents be both right and wrong? and her be wrong entirely? But that never happened, she was always in the right when she set her mind on something. When she was wrong it was over simple things she had no real opinion on. Matters of taste or what the weather would be like, perhaps what in all was going to be on a test. When it came to matters of the mind, behaviours, human nature, states of being; she was always right. Always. There was no real proof for souls, and thusly ghosts, none. Even studies claiming to be able to determine the weight of a soul were ludicrously biased and far too open for interpretation.
And yet…
Here was someone who was clearly not a hallucination nor a projection. He was solid, there was thought behind those green eyes, he could hold a conversation. Yet he did not seem to breathe, and cold radiated off of him like his insides were packed with dry ice.
He was a person, a being, and yet wasn’t behaving as one, a living one. She eyes him as he pulls his arm away, “so you don’t ‘float’ by a string system or magnets perhaps?”.
He attempts to cover up a laugh, she doesn’t even feel insulted because this is just all too strange, her being wrong. He shakes his head, “no, I don’t”, gesturing at the glow over his suit, “my energy, my ectoplasm, simply grabs onto the air particles and pulls me along as I want to”.
Ectoplasm shouldn’t be real. It shouldn’t be possible. “Ectoplasm doesn’t exist”.
“I am quite literally made of it so yeah it definitely does”, him then humming and tilting his head, then he… spits into his hand. Ew. Boys. EuGH. She absolutely recoils when he ‘offers’ said hand to her, but… all that’s in his hand is a glowing green goo-like substance. He… sticks his finger in it and pushes it around before pulling his finger up, the green substance sticking to his finger and stretching in strands of goo. It looks to be getting slowly absorbed into him until it’s all gone.
That should be impossible, shouldn’t it? She just witnessed an impossibility. But if she’s witnessing it then it isn’t impossible, improbable perhaps but not impossible. And it was impossible for any living mammal to survive without oxygen, meaning that no matter how improbable, what he’s saying must be true. What came out of his mouth he absorbed through his finger… as if it was a part of any area of his body rather than specialised by area as it would be for a living mammal. She stares at his hands, which are now simply resting on the table while he waits for her to think. “So, you’re a ghost and ghosts are real?”.
“Yup”.
“And the afterlife is real”.
“Bit more complicated than that but yup”, he snorts, “Zone I barely understand a quarter of it”.
Was that unusual? She doesn’t know. She feels like everything’s out of balance now. Like she doesn’t really know anything anymore. Like she’s fallen into the god complex trap. Where she’s convinced herself she’s infallible and perfect. Perfectly logical. Perfectly rational. Perfectly understanding. Perfectly right. “And the towns plagued by the dead”.
“Eh, it’s more like a hot spot, a vacation with fist-a-cuffs being the main dish on the menu”.
“And… it’s my crazy parent’s fault”.
“I accidentally made the connection actually work, so only partly”.
“You… did?”.
“Yup”.
Was… that part of why he was doing this? A sense of responsibility perhaps? “So you feel responsible? Like if you don’t, someone getting hurt will be, in a way, your own fault?”.
He shrugs, “I have the ability to help, so I help, and Amity is mine”.
This still didn’t make sense though, why… this ‘ghost’? Why was he acting as a protector and claiming this town to be his? “Why you?”.
The smile he gives her is a bit rueful, “I was here first. This town was my home long before these other ghosts made some kind of game out of stirring shit in it”.
“So you haunt this town? Why?”.
“Because it’s mine, there really ain’t anything more to it”.
That still seems illogical to her, “wouldn’t it be easier to go ‘haunt’ somewhere else?”.
“Easier, but wrong”, he shrugs, “no ghost in their right mind would abandon what’s theirs just because some other ghost is being an asshole”.
So then were these ‘ghosts’ territorial to a fault by nature? Intentionally putting themselves in harms way for ‘their possessions’? That seems so foolish, to risk throwing away one’s life over objects and places… but then again, this boy… wasn’t alive, was he? She, logically, can’t ascribe living values on someone non-living. A strange thought in and of itself. “So you have no issue being involved in fights and risking injury, while also taking great issue with loss or harm to what you claim as yours?”.
He chuckles, genuinely, “oh I also just enjoy a good fight, you know? Stretching my ectoplasmic hide and whatnot. Like you guys and stretching those muscle things”, pursing his lips, “but if I get my arm lopt off I can just slap that shit right back on or reform a new one. Yeah I get hurt, yeah it’s painful, but it ain’t that serious. I mean I’m probably totally gonna pick a fight I can’t win someday and that’ll be that. The way the cookie crumbles and all that”.
“So you don’t care that you might die- stop existing?”.
“I care about my own end, simply less than you care about yours. I’d rather risk being ended than not protect”. The way he says that had such a firm definiteness to it that it sounded like an unmovable unalterable fact. No different from the colour of the sky or the name of their planet. Unchangeable and absolute.
So for him, this was need. It was a drilled in fact of who and apparently what he was. Something every person in Amity could bend steel around. That was sort of… a comfort actually. With this new reality that ghosts are real, that her parents are right, that this town is truly plagued by death, that it even needed a ‘protector’ at all. It made sense to feel comforted, after all weaker prey animals always felt safer with a larger more dangerous animal protecting them. The sheep relied on the dogs, and the dogs fought the wolves even if it died doing so. “Wouldn’t it be better to get rid of the portal?”.
He’s response is immediate and almost aggressive, “no”; his eyes even have a brightness to them they normally did not. His eyes could change brightness… that was bizarre to witness. Perhaps, in his apparent accidental aid in its connection, that he hasn’t expanded upon, he became aggressively fond of the device. He shakes his head and the light dims, “anymore questions about my whole existence thing? Or attempts to ‘analyze’ me?”.
She shakes her head slowly, she needed to digest all of this, think on it all. “No. I suppose, if you truly are not human, there’s no rationalising you to me, and no rationalise myself to you”.
“You say that as if I don’t remember being human. You’ve never been a ghost, I’ve been human”.
Jazz smiles a little at that, “so something else my parents are wrong about”; it was comforting to know they were still wrong about a lot of things, just not everything.
He waves her off, “eh, I’m kinda a weirdo. Don’t think too much about it or you’ll hurt yourself, you over analyzer”. He sounds honest and she didn’t realize then how glad she’d be for that.