A/N: A continuation of Chapter 4 (Outside of Time, Pt. I)

The phone was gripped so tightly in Jack's hand, he was surprised it didn't break. "Danny—" he started, his voice tight and his throat closing. "Please, uh… Please be careful." The words, he knew, would fall on deaf ears; it's become a standard part of their conversations, as ordinary and commonplace, as habitual, as asking how school was when he finally ventures home and drops his backpack on the chair by the door.

But somehow, this was different. Jack knew it. Danny knew it.

Jack swallowed, nodding to himself as he forced his voice to work. "Okay?"

There was a slight pause, just the smallest catch of Danny's breath on the other line, before his son responded. "Always am, Dad," he said, and his voice was wry and full of false confidence, but there was something shaken underneath it that Jack caught onto immediately because, well, ever since coming clean back in Antarctica that kid's been as transparent as a plastic bag when it came to lying to his parents, and they all damn well knew it. "Don't worry," he continued on, nevertheless, and Jack's gaze found Maddie's across the kitchen, who was watching him with wide, anxious eyes of her own. "It'll be fine. Piece of cake, really."

Jack nodded, still holding Maddie's gaze as he did. "I'll—I'll tell Mom and call you on the way to get Jazz," he agreed, and, God bless that woman, Maddie caught on enough to spring into action, gathering the keys to the GAV, a first aid kit from under the sink, and a few ecto-guns from the pantry. "Channel 18?"

A hesitation, and Jack swore, his heart was hammering in his ears hard enough for the both of them. "Channel 18."

And the line went dead.

It was as if he was frozen in place, and for a moment, he made not a word, not a sound. What could have… what could have shaken him so much? What was going on? What kind of monster was released bad enough to issue a Threat Level Ten warning out to the city?

When Maddie returned to his side, pressing the GAV keys into his hands, Jack blinked himself out of his reverie, hanging the phone back on the hook. He blinked down at his wife and took the keys from her.

Maddie's countenance was remarkably calm. Must be the scientist in her, Jack thought, as she turned to retrieve the duffel bag of things she'd put together for him, handing it to him by the long strap. She held his gaze, the perfect picture of not panicking. "What threat level?" was all she said, and Jack took the strap of the bag into his shaking hands.

He swallowed. "Ten."

Maddie nodded. "I take it that it showed up at the school?"

Jack, mirroring Maddie, gave her a nod.

"What does he want us to do?"

Jack let out a breath through his nose. "I'm gonna go pick up Jazzy-pants from school—he wants you to put up the ghost shields around town," he filled her in. "And he said to use the strongest ones we have."

That, though, made Maddie's expression falter slightly. Jaw tightening just a little, as she took a small breath, her chin shivered gently. "Is he—he won't be able to get in, once they're up. He knows that, right?"

Jack nodded, trying to file away every important piece of information he'd just learned. Trying to compartmentalize. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, knowing his son's life (half-life?) was in near-constant danger, these days. "He knows," he affirmed, and turned to rummage through one of the kitchen drawers. He pulled out two, small comm units and handed one to Maddie. "Put that on Channel 18. I'll call once I get on the road."

He turned to leave, but she caught his elbow as he did, her hand small on his arm but with a grip like iron. "Jack," she got out, and her voice warbled, finally giving way to that same type of terror that Jack felt aching in his bones. "Where is Danny now?"

And before he had the chance to open his mouth and offer a feeble and unhelpful I don't know, a flash of glowing black and white streaked through the front door intangibly, not sparing them a second of time before shooting through the floor below their feet. No stopping, no hesitation, no explanation. Merely a streak of unnatural light and a sudden chill that seemed to come out of nowhere. The parents' gazes found each other, and it was as if invisible hands held them frozen for a moment. A beat of silence passed. What felt like an eternity later, they finally sprang into action, turning in sync and bolting for the door downstairs.

By the time they made their way down to the lab, the heavy metal doors to the Ghost Portal were already slamming shut in Danny's wake.

It wasn't ten seconds after Danny disappeared that the ghost shield shimmered into visibility outside, green and unnatural and daunting, glowing slightly with its anti-ecto properties yet somehow familiar and comforting. The brief sense of relief that accompanied the stabilized shield soon vanished – and, as if its manifestation were some kind of signal from hell, chaos erupted in the classroom.

Tucker and Sam were trapped, classmates surrounding them, demanding answers about what was going on. Tucker had grabbed Sam's arm in distress, but Sam gave him a pointed look that clearly said Not a word, Foley.

At the front of the room, Mr. Lancer had given up trying to maintain order, and instead was holding the emergency ghost-talkie up to his ear – something all teachers were required to carry with them at all times, as of this academic year – his other hand pressing tightly over his opposite ear, trying to block out the sounds of the students.

With determination, Sam grabbed hold of Tucker's arm and pulled him towards the exit of the classroom. The students had become less demanding, as their temporary adrenaline fueled irritation and anger gave way to confusion and fear. Sam paused just at the door, turning back to try and catch Lancer's eye.

When he finally looked their way, his brow was set and determined and he was speaking almost calmly into the talkie – he, like many others have adapted to become, was staying calm in the face of disaster. Sam saw through the signs, though, of course. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, his fingers were white-knuckled around the talkie, and he was leaning forward onto his desk, supporting himself with his free hand as if he wasn't sure he could stay upright on his own. He was scared – terrified, even. He was perceptive. He would've notices the matching emblems on Danny's chest and his chest – would have noticed the pattern of language when they spoke to each other, noticed how they had this intricate, personal knowledge of each other so intense that it was clear they'd known each other for a very, very long time. He would've noticed the waves of hatred rolling off of Danny so hard that the room had become cold, icy with a hollowing, deadly fury that Danny clearly felt so strongly he subconsciously emitted from his very aura. He was perceptive. He could probably put two and two together.

Still, Lancer didn't break his line of communication over the talkie, didn't hesitate to lock eyes with Sam, her hand still frozen on the door handle, and give her a very clear, very precise nod of permission.

It was something they'd compromised on – the trio and the school board. Once everything was out in the open, the school assumed their—especially Danny's—poor attendance record and semi-regular disappearing from class had to do with ghost hunting. At first, they thought the school would get mad at them about it, that they'd be in trouble for ditching class to go risk their lives. And they were, at first – the school board said how they involved themselves in something that they shouldn't have, that they weren't going to allow it to happen any longer, and that they should leave it to the professionals.

Danny, who was still working through the fact that the entire world now knew that he was essentially half dead, had spoken up then, hesitantly but confidently. "I don't mean to be disrespectful or anything, really, but when it comes to fighting ghosts…" he trailed off, shrugging a little generically. "We sort of are the professionals. As close to professionals as there can ever be, at least."

One of the board members – a benefactor of sorts that only ever showed her face in cases of extreme need – had arched a perfectly made-up eyebrow at him. "Are you implying that the professional ghost hunters out there are incompetent? Like your own parents?"

A smile had flickered on Danny's face for a moment. "I mean, don't get me wrong, they're great in the lab and probably the two most intelligent people I know. But, ah – ghost hunting?" He shook his head, but there was a fondness in it. "I mean, it's not exactly their forte. They didn't even put together that their number one target was living under their own roof."

And that was pretty much the end of that. The school board had been significantly more lenient with them than they'd ever expected them to be, with one main, emphasized condition: if they needed to be dismissed, if they needed to leave, at least one faculty member had to grant permission or, at the very least, be alerted to the fact that they were leaving. It was a small price to pay.

Sam, still gripping onto Tucker's elbow, returned Mr. Lancer's nod with one of her own before pushing the classroom door open and pushing herself and Tucker into the frantic crowds in the hallways.

She knew what was happening, of course—students were being herded from their classrooms to the gym, which was specially equipped with anti-ecto defense modules as well as the ghost shield. But the sheer volume of people moving made it hard to orient themselves—it was like walking head first into a gushing river, white water rapids and all. Before they knew what was happening, Sam lost her grip on Tucker's arm, and they were swept up with the tide.

She tried calling for Tucker, but it was pointless, her voice drowned out in the commotion. She grit her teeth, trying to find him again, but there were people on every side of her, pushing, yelling, crying, shoving their way to what they were foolish enough to believe was safety.

But Sam knew better than that. When it came to Dan, she wasn't sure anyplace was safe.

Suddenly, an arm hooked around her waist and pulled her away from the hordes of scrambling people into a smaller, less populated side hallway. Immediately, instincts kicked in, and before she could process the face, the hat, the glasses, Tucker had fallen down to the floor choking, coughing relentlessly as he tried to catch his breath.

Sam's eyes widened, fist lowering immediately as she reached down to help him up. "Sorry, sorry, Tucker—are you okay?" she called over the commotion. Away from the mass of people, now, she was beginning to hear herself think again.

Coughing and covering his mouth with one elbow, he accepted her help with his free hand, pulling himself back to his feet. "Mm," he got out weakly, between hacks, "stellar. You know—" he broke off, coughing again. "You know," he repeated, clearing his throat, "that would've been pretty awesome if I wasn't on the receiving end of it." Coughing a few more times, he seemed to catch his breath enough to talk again. "I mean, jeez, Sam—a punch to the throat with that much anger behind it? Where've you been hiding that?"

Sam smirked, glancing back out into the crowds of people. It was beginning to thin out, the majority of the people making it into the gym, or at least coming close. "I like to save it for special occasions," she replied off-handedly. "We need to get out of here."

"I'll say," Tucker agreed, and stood at her shoulder, squinting out into the hallway, scanning the crowd. "There is one person we ought to find, though, before we do."

Sam nodded. She'd been thinking the same thing. "Yeah, Valerie would want to know—but there's no way we can find her—" She broke off, eating her own words as she spotted a head of curly brown hair and a signature yellow shirt. "—in this," she finished lamely, and shot a glare at Tucker, who'd raised an eyebrow at her. "Shut up, Tucker."

He shrugged innocently. "I didn't say anything."

Moving a bit slower through the crowd than the rest of the people gathered, it didn't take them long to catch Valerie's attention from off to the side. And when they did—man, for once, they were pretty darned glad Danny wasn't around.

Fists tight at her sides, Val bypassed any semblance of a greeting by making a sound in the back of her throat that could only be described as a growl as she joined them in the shadows of the side hallway. "I have had it up to here with these damn ghosts!" she ground out through her teeth.

Tucker winced a little, holding up his hands as if to calm her. "Look, we understand—" he began, but when Val cut him a glare that could kill, he lowered his hands back to his sides. "Look, we know you're trying to be done with all the ghost stuff, you know, start a new chapter before college and all that, but we could really use your help. Danny could really use your help."

Though her eyes stayed alight with annoyance and frustration, a little bit of the anger seemed to physically deflate out of her, jaw unclenching slightly. "Is he okay?"

"If he is, he probably won't be for long," Sam told her, and the weight of the honesty in her voice hung in the air around them. "He needs our help."

"Help with what though?" Valerie asked, shaking her head as she glanced between the two. "Guys, what the hell is going on here?"

Tucker and Sam exchanged glances, an entire conversation passing between them in the blink of an eye. Tucker looked back to the huntress, shrugging a little as his face twisted into a grimace. "Long story short? There was an alternate timeline where a bad choice Danny made led to his entire family—and us—being killed? So he basically had the humanity ripped out of him to stop the pain of it, and his ghost side killed his human side and then ripped the ghost out of Vlad? And Danny's ghost half merged with Vlad's ghost half and became one of the worst ghosts in the world and ended up essentially destroying the free world as we know it."

Valerie blinked at him. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, her eyebrows began to draw together. "So Danny… killed… humanity—" She broke off, the fragments of the story coming together with a wince. "He… what?"

Sam grit her teeth. They didn't have time to go over this right now. She shook her head. "Look. We stopped him—Danny stopped him. Trapped him in a Thermos that Clockwork promised to guard, then we went back in time and Danny didn't make the same decision he made the first time around, and that timeline, that world that he created before doesn't exist anymore. Be he does. Dan does. And he got out. We don't know how, but he did. And he's here. And he's threatening to kill Danny's family unless he gets him the ring and crown of Pariah Dark within the next three days."

That sure snapped the huntress out of it. She shook her head, resolve visibly hardening. "Absolutely not. We can't let some ghost get his hands on those, especially if he's as terrible as you say he is. And we definitely can't let him kill anyone. We have to stop him."

Tucker made a small gesture with his hands, like: well, duh.

"And that's where I come in," she continued, and gave them a small nod. "I see." She paused for a moment, a wave of indecipherable something passing over her face. Again, her eyebrows drew together slightly. "Where's Danny now?" she asked. "Is he okay?"

Sam sighed, shrugging helplessly. By now, the hallway was practically empty. "I assume he's going to the Ghost Zone to find Clockwork—we need to figure out what's going on, how he got out in the first place. We have to go help him."

"What you need," a nasally voice interrupted them, and suddenly a figure was there, looming over them from the entrance of the side hallway, casting a long shadow over them, "is to get to the auditorium immediately. Don't you kids hear the alarms blaring?"

Caught, flinching, the trio emerged from the hallway to regard the teacher wearily. Tall and lanky, as unintimidating as a man could ever be, Mr. Martin wasn't exactly a steel wall of an obstacle to get through. Still, he was their teacher, and even after that flicker of recognition passed over his features as they emerged from the shadows, he recovered from it quickly and hardened his own resolve, the corner of his moustache twitching slightly. "Alright, you three, get a move on! The school's on lockdown until further notice, all students need to report to the gym! Go!"

Tucker looked at Sam and, again, a silent conversation passed between the two. He looked back to the teacher. "Mr. Martin, we need to go, our friend needs help—"

"Mr. Foley," the spectacled teacher cut him off, turning them by the shoulders and beginning to urge them down the hallway in the direction of the gymnasium, "I'm well aware that you and Miss Manson have a knack for getting involved in this sort of thing, but I'm going to have to insist. It's far too dangerous for me to allow you to get involved. Mr. Fenton—"

"Needs our help," Sam ground out, digging her heels into the floor to stop her momentum. "We know what we're doing—we've been at it a lot longer than even the Guys in White. You have to let us go."

At the end of the day, they had to give Mr. Martin credit for looking genuinely apologetic when he said, "I'm sorry, but the school is on lockdown. With a Threat Level 10, we can't risk it. I'm sure Mr. Fenton can handle it, whatever it is."

Something like white hot fury nearly blinded Sam, then. How still, after years have passed, people could still be this inconsiderate was beyond her. How they could take such advantage over Danny's stupid altruism, like he had the obligation to do the things that he does, like he was just some newspaper headline instead of a person, a human, who bleeds and hurts and aches every day of his life for the sake of the lives of the people around him. Danny would jump in front of a train sans intangibility powers and supernatural healing is it meant saving people's lives—and people still take advantage of that. It infuriates her.

"Don't worry," Tucker whispered in her ear as they reached the stairs leading into the gymnasium, the volume once again increasing as they joined hordes of people once more. "We'll find a way out. So many students, they can't possibly keep an eye on everyone."

"We're not exactly everyone, Tuck," she pointed out bitterly, already noting the eyes that followed them as they, once more, retreated to the outskirts of the crowd. Where it was quieter. "We're Danny's best friends. They know how involved we are – they know nine times out of ten we're out there fighting alongside him. Something this big, if they don't want us getting involved, they're going to keep eyes on us at all times."

Valerie smirked, tapping something on the watch she wore on her left wrist. "Don't worry," she assured them, and part of the armour that is so in tuned to her mind, to her body, seemed to unfurl around her hand like a glove. Pink sparks danced in her palm, away from curious eyes, and Val raised an eyebrow at the pair. "I have a plan to get us out of here."

"And then we'll find Danny?"

The huntress nodded. "And then we'll find Danny," she agreed, and her eyes were sincere and her words were a little sad. "Wherever he is. That boy needs us."

He could feel the fury radiating off his body as he flew. It was similar to how his aura takes on a blueish tint sometimes when he uses his ice powers—it was as if his anger turned his aura a pulsing, charged green. Like at any moment, it was going to explode out of him and destroy everything in his path.

He tried to clear his mind, keeping it blank as he flew. He didn't spare the islands and doors he'd passed even the crumbs of a thought; in fact, he purposefully tried blanking as much of it out as he could. He didn't want to think about other ghosts right now. He couldn't think about other ghosts right now. Because there was one ghost, only one ghost that mattered to him in that instant—and he had created him. That was the real stinger, when he got down to it.

He shot through the Zone like a bullet from a gun, refusing to let the fury and dread and guilt crush his chest and leave him staggering. He'd be no use to anyone if he gave in to those emotions, those feelings; giving in to them would guarantee the world would crash down around him, and that was something he couldn't afford to let happen. People's lives depended on him staying focused, not letting him slip through the cracks.

He just needed to get there. He needed to go. He pushed himself, flying faster.

But that momentum stopped suddenly as soon as Clockwork's tower came into view. Coming to a screeching halt, it took Danny a moment to process the scene in front of him. Rubble and concrete was all that remained of the ghost of time's home, the building itself reduced to nothing more than a single, crumbling brick wall, every monitor and gear and machine vanished into thin air. No sign of Clockwork anywhere. Scattered among the debris, small metallic silver-and-green shards sprinkled along the ground.

Danny was willing to bet it was the shattered Fenton Thermos.

All of that, though, seemed small in comparison to what he noticed next. Laying in front of it all, in front of the rubble and the brick and the dust and debris, a staff laid broken in two. Splintered and broken and burnt. Next to it, a small medallion in the shape of a gear was bent out of shape, the ribbon it hung from frayed and tattered.

Destroyed. It had all been destroyed.

A/N: Okay so I know this is supposed to be a series of one-shots, and it will continue to be, HOWEVER I will take this oppotunity to say that I've decided to continue on the Outside of Time (Chapter 4) thing at least a little bit! There's a lot of it I haven't exactly worked out yet, but I got a TON of reviews asking for this to be made into something larger, potentially it's own story, which is something I'm considering doing. Until I finalize that decision, though, it'll be added into the Post-PP One Shot(s) story in no particular order, but will be specified in the chapter title.

On another note, I've officially completed my first year of college (wooohoo) and now that I'm not drowning in assignments and stress and finals I'll be able to update more for both this and Easy Target. Sorry for being a bit MIA! There should be a couple of updates for each story coming out within the next two weeks or so.

Hope y'all are still here! As always, reviews are always welcome and I love feedback!