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Kindred Spirits	By : RedelliaValentinos Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom Views: 206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, I don't own any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story, I write this purely for the enjoyment of writing. It's just me and a keyboard and my wild brain.

Chapter List
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Supposedly, time heals all wounds. At least, that's how the saying goes. But Danny has always found the phrasing off. He could never figure out why until now. It doesn't heal wounds. It just scars them over and dulls the ache. But the memory remains. He'd be a little more inclined to believe the original saying if it weren't for the fact that Jasmine is the one orchestrating the improvements. Things do get better. Slowly, but they do. His parents follow her instructions and eventually start to see the benefits of them. But it's because of the need to have his sister give the commands that the wounds still ache. Some days, only faintly. Other days, they're open, bleeding and raw. They're really trying. They know they need to. They just never know what to do, how, or where to start. So his sister continues to lead the way.
Vlad holds to his promise. He calls on the first Sunday of every month. He communes with Jasmine, first, and then with Danny. Danny is always eager to take the phone, too. He darts down the stairs like a child that ate too much sugar. Sometimes Jasmine can't pass him the phone quick enough and he's left standing there, nearly vibrating in his shoes.
Every call is spent going over the basics; how the month has gone, if he's eating right, his weight, his grades and schoolwork. And if Danny voices trouble with a paper, Vlad helps. So, some calls last an hour, and some run up to two and three. But it's all for Danny's benefit.
However, every time Jasmine tries passing the reigns of the process to their parents, they seem to stumble over their own feet. It's not easy, learning that what one has been doing for years has actually been hurting their children. And Danny wonders, as they trip their way through the mess, if Jasmine ever really got over it. Or, was she so focused on meeting the unmet needs that she didn't stop to process her own grief? It's a very real possibility, he thinks.
It makes for an awkward environment. One that Danny won't leave open to converse over anything that leaves him sore. He tries to give. He really does. He tries to give them at least some semblance of his feelings. But he's spent so long biting his tongue and suppressing the urges to scream that he doesn't really know how. He supposes, after one particularly tense dinner, that he could just speak the words themselves. But how he delivers his pain will affect how his parents respond. And he's afraid he'll finally cave in and yell if he tries to talk. Ultimately, he doesn't want to talk about it.
Jasmine doesn't need to talk to him. She's been enduring the very same nonsense since she was born. But after so much awkward silence, she asked anyway.
"I really think you should talk about your feelings."
Danny's fork stabs his plate harder than necessary. "No."
"Sweetie, we're really trying! But we can't fix something if we don't know it's broken," Maddie says softly.
Danny glares at his mother while he chews the bite of food in his mouth. He takes another stab at his plate and clacks his teeth down on the fork when he takes the next bite.
"Danny... Please?" Jasmine urges.
Danny swallows. "You want me to tell you how I feel? Fine. I feel like going over it all is gonna be a huge waste of time. It's too late, it's in the past. I'd really prefer to just forget about it and start over."
"That's not very healthy," his sister replies.
"It's not like we can change anything. Picking my memories apart isn't gonna change what happened. It's just gonna make me mad."
"But-"
-Danny slams his fork down, "JUST LET ME BURY IT! OKAY?!"
They had all startled back in their seats. And he'd startled himself, too. He's never raised his voice at them, before.
"I'm sorry. ...I don't want to talk about it. It's all broken. It's over, it's done with, it can't be fixed, so just leave it. That's what I want. That's what I feel. I just want to move on."
After that, he quietly scraped his half eaten plate into the garbage can and went upstairs to bed.
And Jasmine had reported it to Vlad, who was promptly of very little help, in her opinion.
"He has a point. It won't fix anything."
"I'm trying to help him! If he won't communicate, how am I supposed to help him?! How am I supposed to help mom and dad?"
"He's communicating fine. You're just not listening."
"How is letting him bury the past going to help him?!"
"It won't. He'll have to face it, eventually."
''Then how is-''
''-It's called 'setting a boundary,' Miss Fenton. And respecting his wishes. If you push too hard, he'll close himself off entirely. You need to let it be for now. When he's ready to address it, he will. Until then, consider that he's voiced himself and set that boundary as progress."
''Bottling it up is not progress!"
''You're not listening to me.''
''You're not listening to me!''
''And You aren't listening to him.''
And Vlad had hung up on her at that point.
...Danny had shut himself away in his room for several days following that dinner, only coming out for school and to pick at the dinner plates set aside for him after everyone had gone to bed. He's not trying to fight the changes. He knows they're good. He knows they need to happen. But he feels like he's being rushed by his sister. Like he's under a time crunch. And it bothers him. She wants the family to get better, wants him to get better and wants their parents to do better. But some nights just feel forced and he doesn't like it.
Jasmine knocks on his door multiple times a day, trying to get his attention. To lure him out. And all it does is annoy him. He doesn't want to talk. He told her as much. She didn't get it. One could suppose that it's a potential sign of things regressing back to normal. She understood so much and yet never really understood him growing up. And despite his 'dumb teenager' facade, Danny isn't anywhere near as dumb as so many people seem to think. But it's easier to shrug and mumble and walk away than it is to call them out. There's less punishment that way.
Shutting himself off in his room, Danny realizes that's just how he feels. Like he's being punished, and for a variety of things.
For stepping into the portal.
For landing in a coma.
For needing help.
For needing to get that help outside of home.
For finding the comfort, affection and attention he's so desperately craved from someone else.
For hiding behind Vlad while he tries to fit back in to the world.
For being happier with Vlad than when he's at home.
For being happy, at all, with Vlad.
And for just wanting anything at all instead of biting his tongue and continuing as if nothing was wrong, and accepting the hand he'd been dealt.
After a solid week of wallowing in his bed and burying his face in his pillow, wondering if he should just leave, there's a different knock on his door. A heavier, but gentle knock. And it doesn't come with begging, pleas or demands to come out and face his problems. It's patient. And waits for him to respond. Hesitantly, Danny untangles himself from the nest he's built on his bed and opens the door.
Of the three possibilities, he least expected it to be his father. But there he was, holding up a spoon and bowl of pasta salad...one of Danny's favorite dishes.
"Um..." Jack clears his throat, "you don't have to come down to eat. But I thought you'd like this while it's fresh instead of letting it sit in the fridge for several hours. Jazz has gotten a little nuts about cleaning the fridge, and... bleach fumes don't really make a good aftertaste."
Danny blinks. A few times. Before he takes the bowl and sits down right there in his doorway to eat. His father settles on the floor next to him. He lets Danny eat for a few minutes, grateful that he's taking the time to chew instead of scarfing it down as quick as possible.
"We're trying, son," he says.
Danny takes another bite. "I know."
"Jazz has this idea on how things should go and...well..."
"It's too much, too fast, too all at once and she won't listen to you guys?"
Jack chuckles. "Pretty much."
Danny smirks around his spoon. "Welcome to my world."
"And she's still bent out of shape over last week."
"Mm."
"Look... We can't promise to be perfect. But we can promise to keep working on it. And if part of that means you'd rather not talk about certain things, then we'll work with that."
Danny sets an empty bowl down and sighs. "Tell that to Jazz."
"She just wants what's best for you. Just like we do."
"What's best for me and what I need are two different things."
Jack nods.
"And if I'm gonna stay, then I need her to let up. I already tried telling her and she doesn't want to listen. I'm used to not having a say, so it really shouldn't bother me. But this time, it does."
Jack gives another nod, but this one is slower. More thoughtful.
"And I really think that if anything more is going to change, she's gotta change first. I'm telling you, she has issues."
"I'm not sure if-"
"-I feel like I'm stuck in a chokehold with her. She's so controlling. Even her psycho-analytical-whatamacallit is controlling. I'm saying she needs help, too. Not just you and mom, and not just me."
"You think she needs a therapist of her own?"
"Well, that or a tranquilizer. I'll take either one."
Jack chuckles and ruffles Danny's hair. "I'll talk to her, okay?"
Danny grunts and taps his finger against the rim of his bowl. They sit in silence for several minutes, just listening to the sounds of the kitchen. Particularly, the sound of Jasmine dominating any conversation her mother tries to initiate with psychological talk.
"I want more, but I am not going down there."
Jack laughs and takes the bowl. "I got it."
The next call from Vlad, Danny took. And when he was done, he passed the phone to his father. And then his mother. And for the first time in years, Danny laughed, aloud, under his own roof, in front of his parents, at the scowl on Jasmine's face as she was the last one to get a turn.
And when she took the phone from her mother, Danny was still laughing while she glared at him.
"Yes, Miss Fenton. He's laughing at you. But... He's laughing. What you're hearing is improvement."
Jasmine scowls a little less once she realizes he's right.
- 28
- 29
- 30
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Kindred Spirits