For Catherine. Because I got inspiration at 1 AM last night, and I knew I had to write it now, or I would never get anything out. Sorry I've been such a fail all summer, what with our original plan. :3 I'm so bad. And this isn't even based off of any of our prompts. I don't actually have any idea where this came from. But I hope, whatever this is, you like it. :)

She always felt so out of place here. Blinding-white walls with cell doors and padding inside to match. Hiding the true darkness of what happened in these cells, these halls, these rooms. Every noise made her squirm. Was that the guard's shoe squeaking or…something else?

She shouldn't think about it. And she tried not to. But her mind was always racing, always thinking, relating everything back to what she knew of the human mind and how much it could stand. It was days like these she hated the fact that she'd gone into Psychology.

Or perhaps she just hated that her little brother's predicament forced her to put the practice to use on herself.

She stopped walking, having counted the doors and knowing where he was. The same cell every week. For over a year. She shook her head slightly. Don't think about it.

The guard came up behind her and placed the key in the lock. He turned it, but before he pulled, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Smiling her most understanding smile, she nodded at him to continue with unlocking the door. Whatever awaited her on the other side was nothing new.

There he was. Looking smaller and smaller every week. Not just because his cell was large - ready to contain any energy he may unpredictably detonate - but because his strong, resilient force of will had weakened as days turned into weeks turned into months turned into…over a year. She knew it was hard to hold out hope, but that's why she kept coming. She was allowed one visit per week, and she'd taken every one of them since he'd been taken into custody by the government. She figured that her continued visits would show him that they all still cared—that they all still were trying to get him out of here.

But every time she walked in, she felt a shimmer of defeat creep into her heart.

Hearing the door open, he lifted his head just slightly from where it had been dangling before. His arms and legs were strapped inside of thick, metal tubes emanating from the ceiling and floor, precautions for any ghost rays. She could see just a vague outline of eyes that once shined so brightly underneath the clear, glass shield over his eyes - to protect from any plasma or ice rays. And the shield connected to a cold, metal device placed around his lower face and neck, so as not to encourage a ghostly wail as means of escape.

Jazz felt a spark of anger leap into her heart at that, "I signed the waiver form," she reminded the guard. "This room is indestructible. I want that metal thing removed from his mouth so I can talk to my brother."

The guard started at her outburst, but he grabbed the clipboard that hung outside of the cell, checking to see that she had, indeed, signed the waiver taking all responsibility for injury into her own hands. He nodded slightly, and he gave her the key that she knew only too well how to use before closing the door on the siblings.

"Damn guards forget every week. I swear, they're doing it on purpose," she muttered to herself, trying to stay calm as she approached Danny.

He instinctively flinched when she reached a hand out to him, and she could see expectant tears well up in his eyes behind the mask.

"Shhhh," she calmed subconsciously, reaching more slowly until she found the lock she was looking for. "I'm just going to take this blasted thing off."

She turned the key, and the metal contraption slowly loosened so she could pry it open and off of him. His immediate reaction was to flex his jaw, experimentally opening and closing his mouth. She watched sadly as he became accustomed to this small victory of freedom.

"Thhhh—thhh," he started to say, but his voice box wouldn't cooperate. He turned from her and coughed, trying intuitively to pull his arm down to cover his mouth, but it wouldn't budge.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, quickly fumbling with the key to insert it into the other locks. Nothing else besides the mouth guard came off, but the tubes could be loosened. She'd been so distracted by her anger that she'd momentarily forgotten.

"I'm so sorry, Danny," she whispered, loosening all of the restraints to their fullest extent.

"N-no," he whispered back, trying to get his voice to cooperate. "Thhhhanks. 'S good."

She flashed him a smile. Nothing in the world could bring a smile to her face faster than her brother's voice. It was heard so rarely by so few. She felt almost honored to be one of those few.

"So," she asked, stepping away from his restraints and allowing him to slowly and painfully let his weight pull him to the ground, "how often did they let you out this week?"

He laugh-coughed. "No mouth guard for eating. No limb restraints for sleeping and for an hour of uh…'exercise' every day."

She nodded, "So the usual."

"Yeah."

"Well, that's good," she said. "Better than last month, huh?"

"Heh, yeah."

She continued to nod while she scooted closer to her brother, gathering up the backpack she had brought with her. For a long while, they just sat there, him leaning on her for lack of proper muscle control, and her humming some nonsense song. When she'd first started making these visits, this ritual had seemed awkward, as the Fenton children were not normally the quiet type.

At least…not before.

But over time, it just became normal. And when Jazz reached into her backpack, placed something on the floor and flicked off the lights, Danny didn't move. He knew what it was, and though he didn't react strongly, she could feel his muscles relax, and for one shining moment, all of the tension and stress of this forsaken place left him.

It was one of those machines that displayed the stars and constellations on your ceiling when you turned it on. She'd bought it after his first month in the place, knowing how he loved the stars and space and…everything. And it seemed to really help. As he sat up straighter, using his own muscles to keep himself propped up, she smiled knowing it still helped.

After the first few regular exchanges, they usually didn't speak except to say goodbye. All the time they sat under the "stars," they just reveled in the other's company. In knowing they were just there. He didn't have much to say; nothing happened around here that she didn't know about. She obsessed over his condition, and he knew it. In some ways, it frightened him, and in others, he was comforted.

And as for her, if she had something to tell, she'd tell it. He could always count on her for that. When Jazz had a story, she could go on and on about it. But today she seemed normal. Nothing big had happened. So they sat silently.

Until he looked back up at the stars. He reached for the wall, petting it as he took a deep breath.

"I forget."

She turned to him slowly, watching as he gently pulled his hand away from the wall. "…forget what?"

He paused for a beat. "What it's like to touch the real stars."

She blinked for a moment before laughing lightly, "Well…technically you just miss seeing the real stars because…ya know. You can't touch them or you'd like…burn up. Hah, but I know what you—,"

"No," he cut her off purposefully. "Touch."

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to read what he was saying. Maybe after all this time, he was finally going insane…

He reached a hand out to the wall again, not slowing down before he hit it. She cringed at the sound his metal-encased fingers made against the padded wall. He must have hit it pretty hard to produce that kind of noise. But he didn't really seem fazed. He was distant.

"They don't stop when they're real. You reach for them, and you keep on grabbing, and they're always there. There's nothing there to," he hit the wall again, "stop you."

She closed her eyes and felt her shoulders fall as she understood. "They go on forever," she realized. "They're free."

He finally looked at her, his distant eyes focusing, and she could see determination return to his green stare. He nodded slowly and slumped over, leaning his forehead against the sky.

She shook her head and sighed. She needed to get him out of here. She couldn't lose what was left of him. Leaning over, she wrapped her arms around him, and he grasped onto her, as well, holding on to one of his last connections to the freedom of the outside world.

Finally pulling back, she looked at her watch and frowned. "About time," she whispered, switching off the star machine and flicking the lights back on.

Danny stood up with her and offered his arms to her, but she shook her head. "Oh no. I am not putting you back in those things. If they wanna lock you up in here, they are going to do it. Not me."

Danny frowned, "But what if they get mad and don't let you come back?"

She looked at him the way a normal, bossy older sister would look at a normal, naïve little brother. "They've never been able to keep me away before. It's these little battles ya gotta pick first, Danny. And someday…someday we'll make it to the big ones."

He still looked uncertain, and she wished she could wipe that worry from his mind. They'd changed him here—physically, emotionally, mentally. He used to have to reassure her that everything would turn out fine in the end. But now it was her job. And she wasn't sure she was very good at it.

The guard finally knocked and opened the door just a crack, checking to see of the facility's most dangerous captive had been re-detained yet.

"Ms. Jasmine, you gotta put it all back," he said not unkindly.

Danny fidgeted with worry, but Jazz kept it cool. "Ya know, I forget how. I'm so used to taking them off, but usually someone else puts them back on later. I don't want to hurt him, and I certainly wouldn't want to break any of your expensive equipment trying to get it back on, so…I'll just leave that for you guys, if that's all right."

The guard seemed confused, "Well, uh…I guess we…someone can…"

"Great," she said with confidence, giving her brother one last goodbye hug before picking up her bag and handing the key to the guard.

"Just uh…at least lock that door," the guard stuttered nervously as he walked down the hallway to go find someone to help him detain the Phantom.

Jazz nodded curtly, knowing she had to comply with some rules to keep her insider's eye on this place. She didn't want to end up like Sam, whose rebellious ways had gotten her permanently banned from any visitation rights.

She pushed back the memories, and she took one last glance at her brother. He was sitting rigidly against the wall, trembling in apprehension. She frowned as she closed the door slowly.

"Someday, you'll remember Danny. Someday soon."

There's not enough sibling fluff. Go forth and write some. I don't really have a backstory for this or even a plan for what could happen in the future; this was just a random small moment that popped into my head while I was attempting to fall asleep last night. So I'm sorry if you're confused; I am a little, as well. :) In any case, happy late birthday, Catherine! Videos and real life presents still to come!