Author's Note:
I'm SO sorry, I can't remember whether I actually replied to the reviews... ugh, I am really sorry for that. I hope to be better with the replies in future. I'm so glad for all of your reviews, though, and appreciate every single one of them. I really do. –hearts you guys-

Hopefully the characterization will be better this chapter. I've never written Amorpho before, and so therefore found his character difficult to write correctly. But I'm still just learning, after all, so let's see how I go this time around. :) I'll keep trying, and even if I don't get it quite right here, I'll keep trying to learn. Any and all critique appreciated with a tackle-glomp! And virtual chocolate. :P

Psyched Out
-MoonlightUmbreon-

It was already the next morning by the time I'd started to doubt my decision of letting the ghost in on this. He seemed sincere enough, of course, but what if he reported back to some other ghosts? I lay in my bed, mulling the idea back and forth in my head, beginning to get increasingly worried. Still hadn't had my coffee yet, which was irritating me to no extent. Although I hated to admit it, coffee was one of the reasons I got up of a morning.

I still refused to call it an addiction, however. Even though I was up and out of bed no less than five minutes later, tiredly pouring myself a cup. It was Monday morning, and for once, I didn't have work. I'd personally phoned my patients to move their appointments to another day other than today or tomorrow, because the plan I had in mind would require the next two days off. Or, at least one day off; I put down two, just in case.

Amorpho and I had discussed what we were going to do, and it all seemed fair and decent when we were talking. As far as I could tell, there weren't loopholes, and he was, for the most part, rather well-mannered for a ghost.

But that didn't stop the worries coming back after he'd left. I went to bed; nervously. I'd slept; fitfully. And I'd awoken; slightly sick. Why the hell had I been so trusting of him? Had it been because he'd let me go when most other ghosts wouldn't? Whatever the reason, the potential damage had been done.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my contemplations. Embarrassed, I noticed that I was still wrapped up in my dressing gown – which, whilst very warm and comfortable, was hardly the dress to be answering the door in. Still, I opened it up, trying to keep the mad blush that was covering my face to a minimum.

And to whom did I open the door to? Myself. Standing there, right in front of me, was... it was me, wearing exactly what I'd been wearing yesterday. Before I could stop myself, I slammed the door shut, breathing in and out unsteadily. How the heck could that, I, that, her, what?!

It was impossible. There was no way that I could have been standing out there – I was here, wasn't I? Perhaps all this craziness had gotten to my head. Perhaps I was hallucinating. But it looked real... still, so did many hallucinations. So, suppose this was one. Did anything else look out of place? Not as far as I could tell. Everything was in order... except for what stood behind my front door.

Before I had any more time to trip over my own thoughts, the other me stepped through the wall. I stared at her, unsure as to whether scooping my eyes out might stop the hallucination altogether. The other me smiled placidly and waved, scanning my face with turquoise-coloured eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Don't sound so incredulous, Jasmine." she mocked, a slight chuckle apparent. "I thought you were a psychiatrist!"

"What do you mean by that? How can you be – be me?!"

"Perhaps you should have listened to my wording a little better, when we first met." She grinned, before changing into – Amorpho. "I did say I was a shape shifter."

I felt like slapping myself. Somehow, the ghost managed to grin broadly even without a mouth, and had obviously gotten a fair bit of enjoyment from scaring me half to death. I glared, but this only seemed to make him even more satisfied.

"Well, we are on better terms. I figured that just a little fright couldn't hurt."

"What's that? Oh, just tell me after I've recovered from the bi-pass, will you?"

Amorpho seemed far too delighted to reply. And now I remembered that I was standing in front of him in a powdery blue dressing gown and slippers. It made me feel humiliated. This was probably his aim, especially since I hadn't expected him back so early.

"So, we're putting this plan into action today, yes?" I'm sure I sounded a little harsh, but who could blame me? "And we're not going to have any of... what you just displayed then interrupt any of it, right?"

"I suppose so," Amorpho sulkily replied. However, he brightened up when he continued, "It is in the name of detective work."

That was as good as a "Yes, definitely!", I figured, and so decided to go with it. Today the plan would be put into place, and perhaps... just perhaps, we'd figure out what on Earth was going on with Danny.

I wanted – perhaps even needed – to find out. It was for Danny's sake, and perhaps even mine.

And, not to mention, I was beginning to feel rather sure that Danny wasn't going to tell me anything in great detail on his own.

It was not a dark and stormy night.

For one, it was the middle of the day and the sun was shining in a sunburn-threatening manner. At least it was a cheery mood. Not that there was anything cheery about going to put a plot which defied truthfulness and involved a ghost into action. Amorpho had still failed to specify how he was going to avoid Danny's ghost sense, which was rather worrying. He may have been a detective, yes, but the only kind of ghost that got past Danny's notice was a half-ghost.

Amorpho approached the door, and then pulled up his index finger and tapped it where his mouth should have been, apparently wondering about our next move.

"How often for each ghost does your brother's ghost sense go off?"

I had to think about it for a moment, as it wasn't something that we'd ever actually discussed. It can't have gone off every five minutes for the same ghost, and I knew it – I would've seen it while he was fighting. I was willing to bet two hours, at least, since I'd seen one of his longer battles before...

Amorpho crossed his arms and tapped his fingers on them impatiently.

"Erm, I think it's something like two hours." I quickly began. "I don't know. It could be until the ghost goes away – but I've never seen it go off for the same ghost more than once during one... interaction."

The detective ghost nodded and readjusted his shades. He seemed to be thinking some more, head leaning to one side...

This was making me suspicious that he wasn't going to stick to the plan. At all. I really should have expected as much, especially when, unexpectedly, his hand closed in a tight grip around my wrist and yanked me, in a very swift motion, flew up from the street and phased through the wall to my brother's bedroom.

It made me feel ill. And the inertia didn't help, because unlike ghosts, I had no control over midair movement, and was thrown forwards when Amorpho abruptly stopped. My arm cracked as a result in the most excruciating manner, before I was slowly reeled back. I was fairly sure it wasn't broken, but it had certainly hurt.

I turned back to glare at Amorpho, but quickly found that he'd vanished. And I'd vanished, too –suddenly, I knew why he was a detective. He was quick, stealthy, logical (for the most part), and was very good at going about his business without being seen. Biting my tongue so I didn't snap at him, I turned to look at the occupant of Danny's room, which was, almost inevitably, Danny.

Suddenly, he shivered, spine stiffening as a breath of icy blue mist poured from his mouth. Amorpho pulled back, sharply, as the two of us were uncomfortably close to him.

"Where are you... c'mon... come out... I promise I won't bite..."

I began to feel a strong emotional wave, even at a fair distance away. But I didn't need the waves to figure out my brother, at the moment. The statement, with the underlying tone of near-cruelty, was more than enough to portray his mood.

There had definitely been something that he hadn't been telling me...