I do not own Danny Phantom, so don't sue!

I bring to you my first attempt at writing Danny Phantom fiction. I got the idea from the episode of Danny Phantom that I believe is called "Doctor's Disorders" or something along those lines. Anyway, there is a scene where Jack and Maddie are demanding information about Jazz, and Jack lets the little sentence from which this story grew slip. I thought it was kind of mean to say that when Danny was standing right next to him (yes, I get way into this stuff.) and poof, this story was born.

Anyway, like I said. This is my first try at a Danny Phantom story, so i'd love to hear some feedback. Loved it? Hated it? Let me know. Enjoy x

Danny sighed and closed his eyes, willing sleep upon himself. It was 1:40 AM on the dot. A time where most adults and children are fast asleep and most teenagers are just settling in for the night. He'd been lying in bed for exactly 2 hours and 10 minutes. There had been no calmful wave of dreams washing over him, and no ghostly intruders, so Danny didn't really have anything else to do other than talk to his imagination.

After he had counted a few hundred sheep, and made up a couple of theme songs for himself that famous bands would make into real records once people realised he was actually the good guy. (Yes, alright, so they were all to the same tune and blatantly showed his lack of musical talent, but he was bored out of his mind.) He let his mind wander around the events and situations that he'd faced in all his 14 years of gracing the Earth. There was a very plentiful selection as, let's face it, the life of a 14 year old boy who has suddenly obtained ghostly powers which he uses to battle the evil ghosts that enter the human world is hardly going to be boring. However, for some reason, instead of remembering heroic battles to save the Earth from world domination or nostalgic memories of a time before he had his paranormal mission thrust upon him, his mind had stumbled upon a memory that he thought he'd buried.

His father had seemed almost oblivious to his sons presence as he wept for his beloved daughter, who had been taken to the spooky abandoned hospital at the edge of town due to a contagious virus that had swept the school. Yes, he could understand why Jack Fenton was over-reacting. If he was a parent at that time, Danny thought he would've been upset about the lack of information for his sick child, okay - probably not upset enough to be reduced to tears, but still pretty damn upset. And yes, he could understand his father not noticing his son standing by his side. His eyes were probably too blurry to see an inch in front of his face anyway.

"Poor Jazz," Wailed Jack Fenton, his nose blocked and his eyes puffy. "She was always my favourite!"

Ouch. Danny shifted slightly and pulled his duvet closer around him. Even now, months later, that still hurt. He remembered the hollow feeling that slammed into his chest as his father had finished speaking, he was pretty sure his eyes had flashed green for a split second, but he couldn't really recall. Time seemed to have slowed down as the 5 little words sank into Danny's brain so nothing really got through to him at the time. He had stared at the floor, wishing that he wasn't there and knowing that he could just easily turn intangible and get away from it all. Although the repercussions for turning invisible in front of his parents would probably not be worth the escape. (He could imagine several months of 'spiritual cleansing' which would obviously mean his parents chasing him around the house with ghost hunting devices convinced he was possessed by a ghost that liked to turn their son invisible.)

And so he stood in silence, waiting for his father to acknowledge him. Thinking back, Danny wondered why he hadn't stuck up for himself, or at least made a curt comment and walked away. He sat up and let the bed covers fall away, shuddering as freezing night air manipulated his skin allowing goose pimples to arrive. Oh he was still so very alive, even with the spooky half dead thing he had going on. Usually at times like this he would transform and go sit on the roof to look at the stars, or his ghost sense would've gone off and he'd be out battling some evil dead villain who was attempting to take over the world. However tonight the rain was lashing at the tree's and the wind sounded like something out of the ghost zone so he didn't really fancy venturing outside. His ghost sense had been passive since 3rd period where the box ghost had made an attempt to - snigger - take over the world. That had taken all of 5 minutes to sort out and nothing had happened since.

Sighing slightly, Danny raised his eyes to the ceiling as his mind replayed the scene over and over.

"Poor Jazz," Howled Jack Fenton, blowing his nose loudly into a large hankerchief. "She was always my favourite!"

Ah yes, the hankerchief. It was the only thing that his father had used to even imply that he realised his son was next to him, and that was only because he had handed it to him. So, Jazz got all the love in the world and Danny got .. Well.. A dirty tissue. He felt a lump appear in his throat and realised his eyes were glowing green as they usually did when he was feeling emotional. Alright so the tissue had ended up saving his life and everyone elses (although he was not hesitant to give credit to Tuckers cologne.. Foley, by Tucker Foley.) but that wasn't really the point. He felt like blasting the stupid piece of fabric into oblivion with his ectoblasts when his father dropped it into his hands, he could remember that much.

Danny slid slowly back under the covers, instinctively relaxing under the warm and comforting sheets. He suddenly felt so drained, yet slightly pleased as the oblivion that is sleep suddenly seemed very near. If he fell asleep he would stop thinking about things like this that got him so down, and right now that was all he wanted. He lay for a moment longer, blinking away the green glow of his eyes so that they resumed their normal sky blue colour, now tired and tinged with a wistful melancholy. They closed unintentionally and Danny found that for once his wish had been forfilled as he drifted into calm, soothing nothingness.

"Poor Jazz," Moaned Jack Fenton, crying out from a distant place in Danny's dreams. "She was always my favourite!"