In all of the years he had been using the ecto-thermos, it had never occurred to him how unpleasant it would be to be crammed inside of it. It was small, and dark, and cold, and Dan was not in the least bit amused by his situation.
What would they do with him? He wondered vaguely, and none of the ideas that came to mind were pleasant. They could eject him back into the Ghost Zone, which would be easy enough to escape; but he didn't look forward to the possibility of encountering every ghost he'd wronged over the years. Or they could find some way to try and erase him, but that was nearly impossible, and it was more likely he'd either use the opportunity to escape or be trapped again. Most likely trapped. Or they could simply leave him where he was. He couldn't get out of the thermos, after all; it was the perfect prison.
Dan did not relish the idea of sitting there, in the dark, with nothing to do, forever. He began to ponder whether ghosts could age, or die. Would he eventually fade away, or would he be here for eternity? The idea was maddening.
He was snapped out of his reverie as he heard a click, and realized that someone had opened the thermos. Not ejected its contents into the Ghost Zone—just opened the lid.
Why?
He quickly emerged, taking in his surroundings. It was the Ghost Zone, but not the area he was familiar with. Gears floated through the air, along with large swinging pendulums. Clocks, he realized.
"I wouldn't recommend trying to escape," a voice said calmly. "It wouldn't do you much good."
Standing amid the clocks, thermos in hand, was a blue ghost, dressed all in purple. His appearance shifted from young, to old, to young, to younger, and back again, as if the man himself were a pendulum, swinging across his own timeline.
"My name," he said, "Is Clockwork."
Of course. The time ghost. Dan had suspected such, as the method by which his younger self had managed to travel to the future.
"Why am I here?" Dan asked.
"Your timeline is gone," the blue ghost responded. "The current Daniel Fenton has chosen another path. As long as you remain in this realm, I can guarantee your continued existence, outside of time. But should you try to leave, I'm afraid you'll vanish into the fabric of paradox space. In short, Daniel, you'll die."
The silver-haired man gestured skeptically at himself. "News flash, I'm a ghost. Technically speaking, I'm already dead."
Clockwork sighed in slight irritation. "But you still exist. Step outside this building, and you will cease to be. Inside the realm of time, you never happened. Not as you are now."
"So I'm stuck here?"
"Yes. Would you rather disappear from existence?"
Dan grit his teeth in mild irritation. "You're a bit of a smart-ass, you know that?"
It seemed to him the temporal ghost smirked slightly. "I've been told as much before."
It was hard to gauge how long he had been in the strange realm outside of time. It could have been years, it could have been hours. It could have been both or neither. Time, Clockwork had explained, did not work in this realm. It sat like a solid object, a pile of gears and springs waiting to be pieced together in the outside world.
Most of this, Dan considered to be complete nonsense, and simply ignored. He spent most of his time—or lack thereof—watching the timeline of the outside world. He would pick a random point, and then watch it until it got boring, and then switch to another, like a television set. Then, after a while of this he took to watching his companion.
Clockwork was a very strange man. He very rarely interfered with the timeline, every now and then tweaking a small event to a different outcome for the greater good. And he... shifted. The man seemed to be all ages at once, simultaneously young and old and everything in between, and Dan found it more than a little disconcerting. Something about the constant change in appearance seemed unnatural, hectic; he didn't like it. But the silver-haired man had more important issues on his mind than the shifting appearance of his companion.
"Why did you bring me here?" he asked, gazing at the blue man inquisitively. "You could have just let me shrivel into paradox or whatever. And I sure as hell wasn't a saint. So why?"
Clockwork watched him for a moment, before responding. "Curiosity, I suppose. You're... interesting."
Dan raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Interesting?"
"Yes. With most people, it's very easy to tell what they will do in any given situation. This is even true for your younger self. But you, as you are now, are a complete mystery. I can never tell what you're planning to do, and that makes you very interesting indeed."
"So I'm some sort of project for you?"
The blue ghost paused for a moment, his expression slightly guarded. "Not exactly. I may not be able to predict your planned actions, but that doesn't change the fact that I can see everything that has happened and will happen. I know what you're going to do. It's interesting because I don't know why."
Jesus Christ, that shifting was getting on his nerves. Dan gritted his teeth, watching the blue ghost as he shifted from young, to old, to young, to younger, to old, never remaining in the same form for more than a few seconds at a time. It was beginning to become extremely unnerving, and the silver-haired ghost had decided to figure out a way to stop it. Perhaps it was a focus issue, a type of nervous tic; it only seemed to happen for long periods of time when Clockwork was thinking intently about something. And recently, the blue ghost seemed to have something on his mind.
Finally, Dan couldn't stand watching it anymore. He stormed up to the other ghost, grabbing his shoulders and slamming him bodily against a wall. "Will you stop that?"
"Stop what?" Clockwork asked, surprisingly calm for someone being manhandled by a large, angry ghost.
"That changing... thing. It's fucking annoying."
The blue ghost seemed slightly amused. "I'm afraid I can't control that."
"You stop it or I'll make you stop."
"How?"
Dan hesitated. He hadn't thought of that. Clockwork watched him, concealed amusement on his face.
"Of course," the temporal ghost said, "I already know what you'll do. I'm still just not sure how the idea crossed your mind."
The silver-haired man glared at his companion, attempting to discern any hint of the future which the blue man knew. Red eyes stared back, revealing nothing. Waiting. Dan's hands flexed slightly, still gripping tightly to Clockwork's shoulders. He had to act. He had to do something. But what?
He moved forward quickly, pressing their lips together in a rough kiss; to his surprise, he felt the other man kiss back passionately. His grip on Clockwork's shoulders loosened slightly, and Dan's hands slid down to wrap around the smaller ghost's waist. Their lips parted for a moment, and then they kissed again, softer this time. Dan laughed lightly.
"Since you said you don't know why I did that," he murmured, "I'll have to assume that means I never tell you. You'd know otherwise."
Clockwork looked up at him, a trace of amusement on his face. "You don't tell me. But I think I can guess."