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Kindred Spirits Complete	By : RedelliaValentinos Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom Views: 507 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
She comes to visit a week later.
No longer having the weight of her brother on her shoulders, Jasmine finds the days lighter in terms of grunt work. She quit her job the day Vlad Masters took her brother out of the hospital. Once she got into the house, she went upstairs to her room and added Danny's blanket to her bed. She had hoped that having it on her bed, with her at night, it might bring some comfort. She genuinely tried.
That first night, she turned off all of her alarms and slept like a rock.
The second night, she waited up for her alarm to go off. She set one every morning and every night. To tell her when it was time to visit the hospital. She'd gone back to school that morning, and was waiting for her 7:30 alert when she saw 9pm on her phone and remembered. She finally rolled over for sleep after another half hour, but very begrudgingly.
The third night, she was awake until 2am. Now that she wasn't working her tail off and was back on to her regular routine, she had energy to spare.
By the fourth night, she gave up. After tripping over her brother's backpack repeatedly, having moved it into her room for safe keeping, Jasmine fell into a depressive slump and padded into Danny's room. She leaned against the doorframe for a few minutes, clutching his favorite blanket to her chest. Before she knew it, she was curling up in his bed and crying into his pillow. She was wallowing in her misery. Angry that she'd had to do so much of it herself. Upset that her parents didn't even notice the empty place at the table. And above all, frustrated that what she'd been doing hadn't been enough. That she wasn't enough.
It was midnight when she finally drifted off to sleep, but she slept soundly then, and did so again on the fifth night.
On the sixth night, she'd made her decision. Her coping mechanisms were getting her through the day, but they weren't enough. She was groggy as hell when she'd read the guardianship papers Vlad had handed her, but she remembered his phone number in the contacts. It took her half a second to make the choice. She snatched her phone off of its charger and dialed.
It was 10pm. The sun was down. But he picked up on the second ring. She didn't give him the chance to greet her.
"I'm packing a bag, have me picked up tomorrow afternoon. I need to see him."
"...I told you I'd call when he's awake," he replies.
"And you also said I was welcome to visit. I'm coming for a visit. Have someone here to get me, I known you can do it. I'll walk if you don't." She snapped her phone shut before Vlad could even fight it.
The car pulled up to the house the next day, at 4pm. She was ready. Having negotiated her homework and assignments and missed work with the school, and having spent her lunch period arranging a schedule within which she could make up everything and stay on track, Jasmine was set. She'd packed a duffle bag, her brother's, with enough clothing to last a month. Longer, if he let her do her laundry. She hasn't told Vlad that she intended to stay until he was awake. And come Hell or high water, there wasn't a thing he could do to stop her.
"Mom! I'm going out!" She called from the front door, "I'll be back eventually!" What reason did she have to grace her parents with a time frame? She didn't wait for a response as the basement just echoed the sounds of hammering and welding up the stairs. She was sure they heard her. Wether or not they heard her is a different matter.
-
Vlad expected her to be asleep when the car pulled up to the steps; it was almost one o'clock in the morning.
He wasn't prepared for her to push the door open before he could get the handle, and thus didn't have time to dodge the door opening; it knocked his knees pretty hard. He restrained the instinctive growl as she stalked up the stairs into the manor. He shut the door and sent the car off while she stood in the foyer and waited.
He observed her as he stepped back inside. Her hair was brushed and straight, her headband was neatly placed. Her clothing, a pair of blue slacks and a black sweater, unruffled and her shoes were clean. The bags under her eyes were gone. Bright blue irises looked on, crystal clear in their vision. She was in a much better state, now.
Although, standing as she was, with her backpack on both shoulders, a duffle bag at her feet, head held high and her hands folded neatly in front of her, Vlad was unnerved. She was calm, collected, set in her mind. Worse still, one hundred percent aware of herself and her surroundings. He looked at the duffle bag. She's packed it tightly enough that it maintained a perfect cylinder. Looking at her face showed a set jaw and an expression that left no room for argument.
"Well, hello to you, too."
"I'm staying."
"I figured."
It was rare for someone to catch him off guard. And he mentally factors in that the first time he met her, he did not meet someone clear headed. He'd met an utter disaster nigh asleep on her feet. This time, this time, he's really meeting Jasmine Fenton. He supposes she takes after her mother, but to his recollection, Maddie was never this unrelenting. The teenager has practically invaded his home, and she knows it. But with her little brother at stake, she doesn't care.
He motions towards the stairwell and she picks up the duffle bag. He leads her up, and down a hall to the room he's prepared for her. He pushes the door open to her room and she promptly sets her stuff on the bed. He notices she doesn't unpack right away.
"Where's Danny?"
"I really think-"
"-Where. Is. My. Brother?" Her voice is stone, tongue sharp and clear. She's enunciated her words deliberately, leaving no room for confusion.
"Miss Fenton, it's quite late."
"And the longer you push back, the later it will get. Where is he?"
The halfa takes a breath and leads her out. She's going to be a handful, he can tell. He wonders where she gets it from, as his memories of her parents don't reveal any structure or order. He suspects, as they descend the stairs, that her rigidity may have been born out of a need to control a chaotic environment.
Vlad takes her down the hallway leading off the foyer. All the way to the end, and he stops in front of a door. "Before we go in, I must warn you it's quite cold."
Jasmine follows him in, wrapping her arms around herself in a shudder as a cold gust of air threatens to knock her over. The room is mostly dark, except for a faint golden glow coming from a canopy bed. The curtains are drawn, obscuring the view. But the marginal light allows her to see a pattern of constellations scattered across the fabric. She brushes her fingers against the material, finding it silky.
"I observed the blanket you were holding. I assume it's his?"
Jasmine nods. "He likes the stars. He's wanted to go to space ever since he could walk. He has these little glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling. Aunt Alicia and I got him a telescope for his ninth birthday. He still uses it." She quietly soaks in the acknowledgement. The fact that he cared enough to pay attention. She pushes the curtains aside and takes in a small breath.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she's almost thrilled the bedding matches the canopy. Her brother is laying against the pillows in silence, a relaxed expression on his face. There's a night stand on the other side of the bed, where a monitor sits and keeps track. His hair is still a mess, but when is it not? She can see he's been redressed, too. The horribly scratchy hospital gown has been replaced by a Prussian blue t-shirt that's at least one size too big. But it's soft. She tugs the comfortor aside to examine his frame and sees black leggings. Against the deep blue and star speckled materials, even in the dim lighting, she can see how thin he's gotten.
"His hand!" She takes his left hand into hers. The ugly char that once marred his fingers has healed. The skin is no longer cracked and appearing in danger of flaking off. It's still black, but it looks far healthier than when she last saw it.
It's clear to her, as Vlad carefully takes the boy's hand away and drapes it across his stomach, and pulls the comfortor back up, that he's taking this seriously. He's taking care of him. The weight-loss worries her a little, but she understands the man can only do so much.
"The I.V. gives him fluids and nutrients. When he wakes, I'll worry more about getting food into him." He finishes, resting the blanket against the smaller body gently. "There. You've seen him, you know where his room is. Now, go to bed. It's late, and it's not like he's going anywhere."
He ushers her to her feet and out the door.
-
It takes Vlad a few days to find a comfortable rhythm with the girl. She has a hard schedule preset, and she sticks to it. She might alter where she sets herself up with her schoolwork, but from 9 a.m. to 5:30, with a forty-five minute break for lunch at one, she's glued to her assignments. He checks in on Daniel and spends a few hours with him while she's busy. He feels guilty at the idea of leaving the boy alone. When she's done, Vlad feeds her supper. After supper, he settles in the library with his knitting. She gets a cup of hot cocoa and spends a few hours with her brother, snuggled in a thick blanket. She talks sometimes, but more often plays music on her phone instead, opting for some of his favorite songs. And once Vlad stopped thinking of her as a possessive harpy for knocking his knees in with the car door, he saw her actions were out of love. He already knew, but now, he actually saw it.
Jasmine settles quickly. The first thing she notices is the lack of staff, especially when considering the size of the manor. But seeing as the man was keeping himself busy, she chooses not to point it out. Vlad was fine with her not asking, but he doesn't realize that she's watching him. She finds him to be an interesting case study for her schoolwork.
Something else he'll never admit to is that he finds the kitchen to be a decent outlet. He can take his frustration out on produce, chopping at vegetables and pretending they're underperforming staff. He can beat at dough the way he wants to beat other board members, and stirs the various contents of his pots with the same grace and dexterity that he uses to write out termination forms. He can even meditate while cooking, if he's in the right headspace. And Jasmine examines every one of his motions. She notes his behaviors. The acts that settle him the most. The flares and sparks in his eyes, and the calm that descends on him as he finally lays out the dinnerware; she forgives his obsessive need to have the dishes just so. They eat in silence.
They pass the days this way. And before he knows it, they're halfway through May, and she's fully caught up with her schoolwork. Once she reaches her carefully scheduled goal, Vlad is pleased to see her cut back on her hours. She starts an hour earlier, but finishes at three. He happily gives her a late lunch, and settles at the table with her and has his own. Jasmine is unaware that such a normal act, sitting down together for their meals, is easing the tension she came with. He notices, though. And another drop of poison strikes his heart at every meal as it dawns on him. It took rendering her brother comatose, removing easy access to him, and literally letting her barge into his house to provide her with a sense of normalcy and sanity. Because he knows Jack. And he doubts that she's ever had a calm and uninterrupted meal, even once in her life.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Kindred Spirits Complete