Let me just say one thing.

I am astounded by all you wonderful reviewers and how many people have already added this story to their favorites and/or their story alerts! Thank you, everyone! Oh, and a special thank you to VampireFrootloopsRule for pointing out the error I made in the first chapter. I just went back and fixed it.

Anyway, on to the story. I like this chapter a lot, even if it's been a royal pain in my backside and I've had to rewrite it twice.

Also, I'm changing the rating to T. This is mostly because there will be some action-filled fight scenes later and what have you, but also because there will be a small amount of cursing. Not much, and I'll steer clear of the F-bomb and other high-intensity curse words, hence the rating not going past T. This is just what I think is a necessary warning.

Enjoy!


Chapter 2

"Clockwork?"

Danny floated down onto the edge of the floating slab of cobblestone ground upon which stood the lair of the master of time. Inches behind his heels the ground dropped off and gave way to the endless abyss of the Ghost Zone; twenty yards before him pearlescent black walls shot up hundreds of feet into the air, interrupted every so often by a shimmering green windowpane. Set into the highest tower was a huge, ticking clock that looked like it was pulled right out of 15th century Europe.

Danny frowned, his forehead creasing in worry as he craned his neck to look up at the clock tower. That wasn't right. He had been here dozens of times over the years since he had met Clockwork, and not once had that clock simply ticked forward so normally for so long. Usually it would alternate sporadically between ticking forward and ticking backward, and the speed of its ticks would almost never match real time. Wasn't that the point of Clockwork's lair, after all? That it existed outside of time?

His gaze swept over the half dozen windows that were each illuminated by a flickering green candle—flickering on like normal flames rather than standing still like the impossible emerald statues they usually were—and discomfort settled itself into the pit of his stomach. He didn't like this. He didn't like this one bit.

"Clockwork?" he called again, making his way to the castle. Almost without thinking about it he allowed the white rings to appear around his waist as he approached the entrance, and his human body passed through the huge double doors like they were nothing more than smoke. Just as his body cleared the doors, the sound of his footsteps began to intermingle with the chimes and ticks of hundreds of clocks. He scowled and threw his hands up over his ears, but there were so many and they were all so loud that it barely helped. Not to mention he could still feel the vibrations in his feet.

That feeling in his stomach worsened a bit; every single clock in the building was ticking along with real time, and somehow Danny knew that could not mean anything good.

He jogged up to end of the entrance hall until he was standing in the huge, ceiling-less room at the center of the castle in which he had first met Clockwork. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted as loudly as his lungs would allow, "Clockwork!"

His voice bounced against the walls and echoed back to him, but nothing else answered his call.

Danny transformed again and pushed his white boots against the floor, soaring up into the air to investigate the rest of the room. As he floated amongst the giant gears and clocks, he realized that he had never come to Clockwork's lair and not been greeted by the master of time in this room. Clockwork was always watching over the time stream, or else he was floating around and checking on his numerous clocks for reasons Danny had never quite understood. Even if there was ever a time when Clockwork left his lair, he had always been there whenever Danny showed up. He would always know when Danny would plan to come here—after all, as the spirit never failed to remind Danny every so often, Clockwork knew everything—and so surely he knew that Danny was floating around his castle now, confused and searching for him in the hopes of finding some answers.

… So where was he?

Danny tried calling out a few more times, ignoring the logic ringing in the back of his mind. If Clockwork wanted to answer him, the spirit would have made his presence known already, but Danny Fenton was nothing if not stubborn.

"Come on, Clockwork!" he shouted, fists clenched at his sides as he touched down on the floor again. He glanced around at the screens scattered about the room, noting that every single one of them was empty, simply filled with that green swirling background that was always there whenever Clockwork was not using them. He glared at the air around him and cried, "I know you can hear me!"

He cupped his hands around his mouth again and yelled, "I need your help!"

GONG!

The sound reverberated through the walls and the floor, and Danny jumped, a startled yell escaping him and his heart suddenly pounding painfully in his chest. Half a second later, though, he groaned in frustration.

GONG!

"Stupid clock," he muttered. He crossed his arms over his chest angrily and kicked at the floor, adding as the main clock gonged away in its tower, "and its stupid loud-ass chimes."

Every other clock began to sound their respective alarms to signal the new hour, though none of them could drown out the sound of the biggest clock sending out its ear-shattering gongs. Danny sighed, tapping his boot against the floor as he waited for the clock to finish ringing out the hour. Silently he counted as the clock chimed, and when the gongs finally ceased, he raised an eyebrow and automatically reached for his phone in the pocket of his jumpsuit. Seven, he thought to himself, but there's no way it's seven o-clock.

His fingers wrapped around a tiny flip phone, and when he pulled it out of his pocket he simply blinked at the little outdated device—surprised for only a second or two that his new touchscreen phone had not been there—before he sighed in defeat and flipped it open. In front of a background picture of a fourteen-year-old Tucker making some strange face into the camera, the clock read "12:52 PM." He stared at the time long enough for it to change to "12:53 PM" before he snapped the phone shut and tucked it back into his pocket, staring up at the floating gears and clocks all over the room.

He stood there for a few minutes, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought, wondering why his phone had not stopped measuring the time when he had stepped into the castle. He gazed up at the regularly turning gears that he had always assumed ran the main clock outside, watching as they turned a few degrees with each passing second.

No, none of this was normal for the lair of the master of time.

His eyes roamed over the room, but as he expected, Clockwork did not just pop up out of the ether like he sometimes tended to do. Danny was still alone. He frowned and quietly asked the empty room, "What are you playing at, Clockwork?"


Over an hour and a half Danny had spent in Clockwork's lair, according to the clock on his phone. He had spent over ninety minutes simply walking around that massive central room of the castle-like lair, hoping (but at the same time sincerely doubting) he could stall for long enough so the master of time would return from… wherever he was.

That did not happen. Really, Danny couldn't say he was surprised, but that did not make it any less frustrating.

There was one strange thing, though, that had happened while Danny was searching the castle. At exactly 1:52, the clocks all began chiming to signal the coming of yet another hour. This time, though, the biggest clock only rang down six chimes from its tower. Danny had scratched his head in confusion and wondered whether or not he had miscounted the first time, but he was almost positive the clock had chimes seven times earlier. So the clocks were moving backward, then…?

But why on Earth would they be doing that? It aggravated Danny to no end that Clockwork could not just show himself and tell Danny what the heck was going on, but if Danny knew the master of time, he knew that he would get some answers when Clockwork wanted him to get answers. And that was probably not going to happen any time soon.

He had flown straight home once he gave up on waiting for Clockwork, and now he was sitting in Jazz's bedroom on the edge of her bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands. Clockwork had not helped, and now he was at a complete and total loss.

What was he supposed to do without any help? How was he supposed to get back home, to his real home, without knowing how he had wound up here in the first place?

What if… What if Clockwork had nothing to do with this? Then what? How was he here, then? There was no way he could be dreaming, because everything around him was as real as real could be, and after he had teleported he had certainly felt real pain in his chest. Was he hallucinating?

He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. If this was a hallucination, then it was a really detailed hallucination.

He raised his head from his hands, his eyes wandering around the room, and he caught sight of the picture frame on his sister's desk which held a picture of the two of them smiling at the camera together. Jazz would know what to do. She would have some book or another, somewhere, that would give her a hint as to what had happened. Either that or she would whip out some of her psychology or some supernatural theories she had read up on lately. Even seventeen-year-old Jazz, not just the adult version from his time, could come up with a way out of this. He was certain of that.

It made no difference, though. Talking to Jazz was not an option. Not because she was dead—Danny refused to wrap his mind around that—but because she was in another timeline. Somewhere, some when, Jazz was sitting in her dorm at Stanford, studying for the standardized test she needed to take to get into Harvard Medical School.

Danny grabbed the pillow off of her bed and hugged it to his chest. He felt childish, but as there was no one around to see him, he did it anyway. He let his head loll forward until it rested on the top of the pillow, and he inhaled slowly, surprised to discover that after five years, Jazz still used the same perfume. He always noticed when she wore it, thanks to his heightened senses that he had trained over the years, and that smell was oddly comforting. He wondered if Jazz had been wearing it when she drove off to the Nasty Burger to face his evil, older self…

He hastily clenched his teeth and wrestled his thoughts into his control.

Shut up and focus on what's real, Fenton, or you're gonna lose it, he ordered. Jazz is not dead. Neither are Mom, Dad, Sam, and Tucker. They're all fine.

With nothing but memories as his evidence, it was difficult to hold onto that belief.

Start with the easy stuff, he told himself. My name is Danny Fenton. I graduated from Casper High in 2010 with a 90.6 grade point average. I took the CAT without cheating at all, and I scored a 1970. I live in a dorm at the University of Florida, and I'm an undecided major. My roommate's name is Dwight, and he's from New Jersey.

He took a shaky breath. When I was fourteen I saved the world from a massive asteroid that would have destroyed everything if it hit. Most of my enemies went a little easier on me after that, but there were still pretty big threats every now and then. I started dating Sam, and we were on-and-off all through high school until I told her we should try seeing other people when we went to college.

I'm still not sure how I feel about that, he added. He wrinkled his nose and massaged his temples, trying to dull the headache that was rapidly forming behind his eyes. For some reason it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate. She went to the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and she's studying social work with a minor in environmental studies. And then Tucker, he was the mayor of Amity Park for… two years? A little more than that, I think, he debated, and he let out a huff when the headache sent a sharp stab through his temple. He's at MIT now. He was the only kid in Casper High to ever get accepted there, and that includes Jazz. Majoring in…

He hissed through his teeth, thoughts cutting off abruptly as he began to focus on pressing into his forehead with the heels of his palms. It took a long time for the pain to subside, and when it did, he decided to stop trying to dredge up specifics from his memories. Instead he sat there on Jazz's bed, letting himself reminisce over whatever came to mind. He thought of the first time his dad had tried to help him fight ghosts, and he smirked. He had thought Jazz sucking him into the thermos three times was bad, but his dad had proved him wrong.

He thought of his mom always panicking when he was out past curfew. She would always send the boo-merang out to find him and, once she did, would always charge into his fights with a gun drawn. She had actually managed to save his butt a few times.

He sat there for a long time, letting his mind wander, and it actually helped to calm his nerves a bit. It had only felt like twenty minutes, but Jazz's alarm clock said had been close to two hours.

Then there was a knock on the door.

His head lifted off the pillow so quickly his neck cracked, staring at the door wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Who would be knocking on Jazz's door if she was supposedly dead? It almost rose his hopes, made him think for a moment that he really had imagined all this and that someone was at the door looking for Jazz. It was a soft knock, like whoever was standing on the other side of that door was apprehensive, like they almost hoped he wouldn't answer.

He did, even though he felt ridiculous answering his sister's bedroom door as if it was his own.

"Uh… come in?"

The doorknob turned slowly, like whoever stood behind the door was purposely dragging out the process, and when the door finally opened, Danny wished he had kept his big fat mouth shut and just pretended there was no one in here. The pillow toppled off his lap and landed silently on the floor as he stood, backing a little further away from the door.

He knew that Vlad Masters was alive and still on Earth in this timeline, but seeing him here, now, not ten feet away after five years of absence… It was more nerve-wracking than Danny had ever expected.

Plasmius had scared him back then, genuinely scared him with the power he so easily held over Danny's head, and in a matter of seconds that all came flooding back. He saw Plasmius stalking forward to kill him after the destruction of his perfect clone. He saw Plasmius glaring at him with venom that could only be described as bloodlust. He saw Plasmius gripping his wrist and sending ghostly shocks through his entire body until the pain knocked him unconscious. Danny transformed instinctively, and he nearly cursed out loud when he heard that fear leak into his voice. "What—what are you doing here?"

The older hybrid stepped into the room, still in his human form and completely out of synch with the menacing image from Danny's memories. He looked hesitant, which was something Danny could not ever remember Plasmius being before, with his hands in the pockets of his slacks as he approached. It might have been disarming if it weren't for one thing.

Danny backed further into the dresser behind him. Jesus, had the guy always been this tall? Plasmius towered over him. At least by a foot, Danny guessed, maybe more. He could not even guess whether he would be as tall as Vlad if this were the present.

Vlad's voice then broke the silence with the entirely too simple answer, "Looking for you."

Danny looked him up and down with his brow furrowed, wondering what was so different about the older hybrid right now that he just could not place. His hands were in his pockets, yes, and that was certainly strange for him. But no, it was something else. Five years had not dimmed Danny's memory enough for him not to know that the man standing in front of him had never acted so… normal. It was unsettling. Where was that arrogant pride that had always annoyed the crap out of him?

His eyes flicked up to meet his archenemy's gaze. "How did you know I was here?"

Plasmius shrugged, leaning against the doorframe in a way that was far too casual for Vlad Masters. "Let's call it a hunch, shall we?"

"Well…" Danny trailed off. He had no idea where to go from here. What does one say to his archenemy after five years of being sure that he was gone forever? He shook the thought away and asked, "What do you want?"

Vlad raised an eyebrow at him. "Isn't that obvious?" he asked, and Danny only shook his head in response. "I'm taking you back to Wisconsin, my boy."

Danny's eyes widened. No, no, no. That struck all the wrong notes in Danny's mind, and he was sure that Vlad could tell by the look on his face alone.

He took a step back, trying to put as much distance between them as his sister's small bedroom would allow. He may not have remembered much about the whole confrontation with his jerky older self all those years ago, but he certainly remembered how that evil version of him had come to be. "Uh… Look," he began, "I know this sounds weird, but… I can't."

Plasmius crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "What do you mean, you can't?"

"I just can't," Danny insisted, and now his back was against his sister's dresser. He fumbled for an explanation or some kind of excuse to get out of there, but nothing came to mind, especially not with his archenemy looking him straight in the eye with a calculating look on his face.

If his family and friends were really dead in this timeline, then he was already on his way to becoming that horrible version of himself. This was exactly the situation Clockwork had helped prevent so long ago, and it was happening, right here and right now. But he could still prevent it, right? All he had to do was stay away from Plasmius. "Uh…" Danny stalled, and then he gulped.

"Bye."

He disappeared, leaving only green smoke behind, and Plasmius had clearly not expected that kind of exit. When Danny disappeared he merely gaped at the empty space before him for a few seconds, and it was all the head start Danny needed. He reappeared only a few blocks away and immediately landed, his hand clutching his chest as he fought to regain his energy, wide eyes darting around in search of his pursuer. White rings appeared around his waist without his permission, the fatigue from teleporting too much to allow him to hold his ghost half. The teen panted as he jogged into the nearest alley, nearly tripping over his own feet before he dove behind a dumpster that completely cut him off from the view of the street. His back slumped against the wall, and he slid down until he was sitting, legs sprawled out in front of him.

Okay Fenton, he decided as he fought to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen, no more teleporting.

He knew that Vlad could teleport, too. Heck, Danny had gotten the idea from Vlad in the first place. He slowly pulled his legs toward himself until he was sitting on his knees, and cautiously peeked out from behind the dumpster.

He nearly had a heart attack when he saw Plasmius, in his ghost form, floating down the street and passing right by the alley. Danny fell backward, pressing his back against the wall and holding his breath in the hopes that Vlad had not seen or heard him.

"Daniel?" the older hybrid called from the street, his voice echoing in that eerie way that all ghosts' voices did. Danny heard a few people scream and run away from the ghost floating around out in the open, but neither he nor Vlad paid them any mind. The way Plasmius had spoken gave Danny the sinking feeling that the older hybrid knew exactly where he was and that the Plasmius was just buying time, but he shook that thought away as soon as it came. There's no way, he told himself. You're just freaking yourself out.

"Daniel, I know you can hear me."

He kept quiet, even though that sentence dipped his hopes down. So Vlad knew he was nearby. It could have been a trick. Plasmius had always been one for tricks, and that meant he might have no idea where Danny was. If Danny could just call his bluff, then maybe that would be the end of it. Maybe Plasmius would go away. Maybe he would never find Danny and would just give up.

Suddenly, his archenemy's voice sounded like it was right behind him, saying, "Come now, my boy, I'm only trying to—"

Danny reflexively jumped away, whirling around and shooting a ghost ray at his attacker, cutting him off midsentence. Vlad's back slammed against the brick wall, but Danny did not let up. He shot another blast and then another and another, still in his human form, firing until the bricks crumbled under the pressure and Plasmius was left in a pile of rubble.

He transformed and flew straight up, leaving Plasmius behind under the pile of bricks. Danny hoped that Vlad would be too disoriented from that attack to follow him right away, and that Danny could put enough distance between them before Plasmius—

"Listen to me!" he shouted indignantly, appearing out of nothing in front of Danny and cutting off his flight path, clearly intending to trip him up and gain the upper hand, but little did Vlad know that Danny had five extra years of ghost fighting experience under his belt. Out of instinct Danny did not stop, and instead he barreled straight into Vlad's chest, tackling him and diving for the ground at the highest speed his body would allow. "Daniel, stop!"

Danny ignored him and continued their rapid descent for the ground. He felt a jolt of electricity through his limbs for a split second—no doubt Vlad's attempt to make him lose his grip—but it made no difference. At that exact moment, just seconds before colliding with the asphalt below, Danny let go of Plasmius and flew intangibly through the ground. Although it was muffled by the dirt around him, Danny heard the unmistakable boom of something colliding with the ground above him. When he resurfaced he floated down until his feet were inches above the ground, turning to face where Plasmius had hit, and a tired grin spread over his face. It had worked exactly as he had hoped. Plasmius was lying in a crater formed by his landing, and the concrete around him was cracked and bent in a way that would have killed any normal human being.

Danny gently landed, his boot crunching on a dead leaf.

There was a groan from the crater, and first a gloved hand appeared at the edge of the crater, and then ever so slowly Plasmius climbed out of it until he was standing on firm ground, glaring pointedly at Danny and clutching his ribs. Danny had enough experience with these sorts of things to know that they were probably broken.

Oh, well. Danny knew they would heal.

Danny crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his archenemy. "Why don't you just leave me alone, Plasmius?" he shouted.

"Is that what you're suggesting?" responded Plasmius, a growl resonating under his words from the back of his throat. "I should just leave you to… whatever your plans are after this?"

"What do you care what I—?"

"Do not give me that, boy!" yelled Plasmius, pointing with the hand that was not busy holding his ribs. He was glaring at Danny, but somehow there was no venom in his pupil-less red eyes. Whatever was there in its place, though, Danny had no idea. Plasmius continued, "You are fourteen years old, and your mother, your father, your sister, and your little friends are all dead! Do you really think I am daft enough to leave you alone right now?"

Danny suddenly felt himself bristle with anger. However justified it might be, Danny did not like Vlad's insistence that this timeline was real and that Danny's entire family was dead.

"Stop it, Plasmius," he growled, eyes narrowing dangerously. Before he could stop and think about how it would sound he spoke aloud the exact words that were playing through his mind. "They're not dead."

The reaction he received should have been expected. Plasmius suddenly looked like he had taken a punch to the stomach. The anger drained from his face, leaving behind a distressed expression that was several shades paler. When he spoke again his voice was quiet, like he really had no idea what he should say.

"What… What do you mean they're not dead? Daniel," he began and transformed, standing there in his human form and looking at Danny like he thought the teen was completely out of his mind. "They are all dead. You saw the explosion yourself. We both…" his voice cut off, and he cleared his throat and continued with a little more determination in his voice, "We both saw their bodies."

"You—UGH! Plasmius, you don't understand!" Danny yelled, his hand gripping a fistful of his still white hair. Before he knew it he was ranting to Plasmius and saying things that he knew he should probably keep to himself, but it didn't really matter, did it? He was still mostly sure that none of this was real. It couldn't be real, but damned if he wasn't frustrated that he still had to experience it. He shouted, "It shouldn't be like this! This was all supposed to be prevented. Clockwork, he… He stopped this from happening, and everyone was okay. Everyone is okay! My parents are okay; Jazz, Sam, and Tucker, they're all fine. I… I should be in class, taking a test right now, and you! You should be…"

His voice trailed off then, and he lifted his gaze until he was looking directly at Plasmius.

You should be floating through space somewhere, probably dead.

He couldn't bring himself to say it. Instead he broke eye contact again; he did not care for the pitiful look he was getting from his once archenemy. Plasmius clearly believed that he, Danny, belonged in a mental institution. And that was probably a valid belief at the moment. Danny sure felt like he was going insane.

"Just… just leave me alone, Plasmius."

"Daniel, I—"

"I mean it," Danny suddenly interrupted. He raised his glowing palm in front of him, and the pulsing green light was a clear enough threat for both of them. Even with an extra five years of fighting experience under his belt there was no way that Danny could beat Plasmius in a fight, but he was clearly not going down without one. And Plasmius did not want a fight, unless Danny's instincts failed him.

His instincts were correct. Plasmius hesitantly stepped back, looking at odds with himself as he stared at Danny.

Finally, the older hybrid sighed, seeming to concede defeat in their argument. He raised his tired gaze upward for a few long seconds, almost seeming to search the clear autumn sky for something, and then he dropped his eyes back down to meet Danny's. Dark blue eyes met bright green ones, and for the life of him Danny could not figure out what Plasmius was thinking.

"Alright, alright, so be it," the man relented. "Just…" he paused and let out another tired sigh, and what he said next sounded more like a request than an order. "Just try not to do anything rash, Daniel."

Danny eyed his archenemy up and down, and Vlad never took his eyes off of Danny. "Don't do anything rash?" Danny repeated aloud, a confused expression crossing his face. What was that supposed to mean? Wait, did Vlad think..? Danny sighed when the meaning of Vlad's request finally occurred to him, and he released the tension in his stance and lowered his arm, breaking eye contact. "Don't worry about me, Plasmius. I'm a lot of things right now"—confused, scared, suffering from a pretty massive headache—"but trust me. I'm not suicidal."

Not yet, anyway, the pessimistic side of his mind spoke up, and he told his archenemy, "Just go home."

Plasmius held his gaze for a long moment as though he was trying to read Danny's thoughts, but eventually he seemed to give up on that. Without another word he transformed, whirled his cape around himself, and disappeared.

Danny stared at the spot where Plasmius had been standing, subconsciously running a hand through his hair. He let the hand drop to his side and looked up, squinting through the harsh sunlight. He wanted to go flying, just to clear his thoughts, but if the Disasteroid incident had not yet happened, that meant Valerie was probably still after his head. Flying around Amity Park would be anything but relaxing.

His gaze fell back down to the crater he had caused, and he winced.

"Might as well clean up," he murmured to himself.

He raised his palms toward the wreckage and narrowed his eyes in concentration, wondering all the while if this would actually work. After a long moment a crack resounded from the concrete, and Danny smiled. Slabs of asphalt that had been bent and broken slowly lifted and returned to their original place; the faults between them remained, but the structure of the road was essentially restored. There was a muffled hiss as the dirt that had been displaced slowly filled the crater beneath the road, and only when he was sure the road was safe for passing cars did Danny release his hold.

"Huh. Nice to know that still works," he thought aloud, looking down and studying his open palm. Apparently knowing the technique for telekinesis was enough to perform it; he was not nearly as drained now as he had been after teleporting. "Better still be careful, though."

In other words, there would be no picking up and moving buildings. Take it easy, Fenton.

He glanced around to be sure the area was empty, and transformed back into his human half, deciding to head back toward his house on foot and save his energy. He was exhausted from the day so far, but he was not about to just go home and crash into his bed. He was going to go to Clockwork's lair again, only because he had no other leads. In no way did he expect to find Clockwork there if he had not been there the first time, but really… what else could he do?

As he stuffed his hands back into his pockets and began to walk around the corner, he never noticed the tiny, Plasmius-shaped beetle delicately land on the back of his shirt.

End Chapter 2