Chapter 230: Klein Bottle
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Danny sat on the edge of Libra's island, bare feet dangling in the ectoplasmic eddies. It almost felt like water, if water was made entirely out of carbonation. He had woken up from his nap to discover that the jury was deliberating.
The room was nice. His friends were nice. Clockwork was nice.
But he'd felt trapped. He'd needed to go.
Maybe he should have brought Jazz with him. She was just as affected by this as he was, but he just wanted to be alone.
Because, even if he was trying, he hadn't processed any of this at all. Not even the very first thing, getting shot at with that stupidly named gun. Not the fact that he had a lair. Not the fact that anyone who went to his lair could chat up manifestations of his subconscious. Not the fact that there were people living in his lair and had been for years. People who he had been low-key avoiding throughout the trial, due to aforementioned lack of processing.
What would he even say to them? 'Hi, I'm your absentee landlord?' Had he said that to them, back in the lair? It sounded like the kind of dumb thing he'd say, but he couldn't remember.
Oh. And then there was the murder. Or not murder. He'd killed them, but could it be called murder? Considering? Ironically, that was the only part he'd made any progress towards processing, because it was so huge, and it still felt like nothing, because it was so huge.
Also because everyone knew it would bother him and had prepared accordingly, talking him out of exactly what he was doing now, which was only a thing he was doing now because he was using it to distract himself from the main thing.
Which was what would happen to his parents.
They'd definitely be declared guilty of something. They had done the things they were being tried for. The question was, how guilty would the jury decide they were?
And what would happen at the sentencing hearing.
And what would happen at the custody hearing.
True, Hemlock had said that it was unlikely for Vlad to get full custody of him, no matter what, but he still worried. What if they gave custody to someone other than Clockwork? Danny had promised to abide by the rulings of the trial, and that would hurt.
And his parents…
Death was off the table, but would he ever get to see them again? Forever was a long time, and Danny could have forever for most things, but his parents weren't ghosts. Not yet. Maybe not ever. They didn't have that long.
He heard footsteps behind him, and twisted to see Mr. Lancer, still some distance off.
"Um," said Danny, "hi?"
"Sorry!" said Mr. Lancer, hurrying closer, "I didn't hear that. I was too far away."
"Just, 'hi,'" said Danny, realizing he had forgotten to take into account how much worse at hearing most humans were.
Except Mr. Lancer wasn't entirely human either, was he? Not anymore. Not unlike everyone else who'd fallen through the portal into Danny's lair, there was just the faintest edge of liminality clinging to Mr. Lancer.
(Danny's fault, whether it was good or bad.)
"Ah," said Mr. Lancer. He frowned at the edge of the island for a few heartbeats, then lowered himself to the ground some distance away. "Your… sisters are looking for you. And your…" He trailed off, but managed to make a gesture that communicated tall, muscley, and extremely violent.
"You mean Dan."
"Er, yes," said Mr. Lancer.
"Yeah, we haven't exactly decided how we're… yeah." Danny shrugged and returned his gaze to the greater Zone. "That's another thing I have to sort out, I guess."
"You've had a lot going on," said Mr. Lancer.
"I guess," said Danny. He would rather he didn't.
"This has all happened quickly," said Mr. Lancer, still carefully neutral.
"Yeah," agreed Danny. "I just – I want it all to stop." He slammed his hand down into the ground beneath him. A few pebbles dislodged and floated away. "Or at least slow down! But other things keep going and going and—" Danny cut himself off, belatedly realizing that the swirling ectoplasmic mists were no longer swirling. In fact, they were rock still. The air around him was dead still.
Deader than usual, anyway.
A lance of pain shot up Danny's calf, and when he jerked his pant leg up, he saw the twinkling gleam of crystal. He looked back of his shoulder at Mr. Lancer, who, like their surroundings, was completely still, like a statue. He stood up, alarmed, and walked to his teacher to examine him more closely.
Danny had stopped time. Which, you know, cool. It was cool. Time powers were cool. He preferred controlled time powers, however. Ones that were not slowly turning him into glass. Or did he have time and effect wrong, there?
Anyway, gentle, few-minutes-at-best time swapping was more his speed. This was different.
This was actually sort of scary, because he didn't know how to turn it off.
It was fine. He'd just go find Clockwork. Clockwork would know what to do.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
This was fine.
And then the buzzing in the back of Danny's head reached a dizzying crescendo, and the stillness shattered. He almost fell over but used his flight to steady himself.
"Danny?" said Mr. Lancer. "Are you okay?"
"I'm—" Danny thought about it. "No," he said. He reached down his leg. He couldn't feel the glass any more, and had no idea what think about that.
Mr. Lancer, with some difficulty, stood as well, hands extended somewhat, before he pulled them back. "This probably, won't help," he said, "but I have been a teacher for some time, and this isn't he first time I have been part of… something like this."
Oh, he was talking about the trial, not the time stop, which was reasonable. There was no reason for Mr. Lancer to even know about the time stop, especially if he wasn't looking directly at Danny at the time.
"Things like this?"
"Child abuse trials," said Mr. Lancer. "Things—Things do get better."
Danny's shoulders went up defensively. "They weren't abusing me. They didn't know." The objection sounded weak, especially when compared to his own thoughts right after his mother had shot him.
Mr. Lancer hesitantly reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "You shouldn't be by yourself."
"Yeah," agreed Danny, checking his leg again. Next time that happened, he wanted to be near Clockwork. Unless… Heck, could he hurt people with this, by mistake?
Probably not. Clockwork stopped time all the, well, time. No one got hurt by that. As far as Danny knew.
Oh, yay. It was apparently time for his Obsession to latch on to the idea that he was a danger to everyone around him. Again. Right on time, on top of everything else.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He could not remember the exercises Jazz had printed out for him about dealing with intrusive thoughts and anxiety, but he was pretty sure breathing wouldn't hurt.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Mr. Lancer. "I'm sure your friends would do better, but sometimes there's value in talking to someone who doesn't, er, know you as well."
"You do know me, though," said Danny. "We should go back. Do you know where Clockwork was?"
"Clockwork?" Mr. Lancer looked confused.
"I guess you might not have met yet," said Danny. "Never mind. Jazz and Ellie?"
"They were at the dorms," said Mr. Lancer, seeming to be relieved at the return to a manageable subject.
"'Dorms?'"
"The 'human friendly housing,'" said Mr. Lancer, making a face. "I don't really know what else to call them."
"Dorms are fine," said Danny, quickly. "Let's just go." He set off, half flying. It would be rude to leave Mr. Lancer behind at this point, even if he was anxious about the glass issue.
"Danny," said Mr. Lancer, slightly out of breath. "This probably isn't—isn't what you want to hear, right now, but if you need a place to stay, back on Earth, my home is always open to you and your sister. Sisters," he corrected. "I know with all the people, ghost people, lobbying for custody, you don't care to hear things like that, but I'm not talking about custody, just, well. A place to be. That happens to be in Amity Park. Although I'm sure you have relatives elsewhere…"
Danny winces. "Not close by," he said, thinking of Aunt Alicia.
.
.
.
Incidentally, Aunt Alicia was thinking of Danny. And Jazz and her sister. Mostly her sister, honestly. She didn't know the kids all that well. She might have spared half a thought for Jack. Possibly. She wasn't terribly generous when it came to Jack, or to husbands in general. Most of her Jack-related thoughts involved imagining Maddie divorcing him.
Anyway. Her shotgun was in good working order, as was her rifle, machete, and axe. She had ammo for days. She didn't have any bullet proof vests, but she had some weirdo prototype magic long johns Maddie had sent her. After a couple of tests with buckshot, Alicia figured they'd do the trick.
GIW shouldn't have set up so close to Spitoon, Arkansas. The only thing a bunch of rednecks like herself hated more than government overreach was fake government overreach, and the whole community was ready to make their displeasure known.
Violently if need be.
.
.
.
Well, considering how far out Spitoon was, Aunt Alicia might not have even heard that they were missing, let alone what had happened in Amity. In any case, Aunt Alicia lived too far away from Amity for Danny to be at all comfortable staying with her.
Amity Park was his haunt. Emphasis on his.
Staying away from it for so long in a time of crisis was already sapping his sanity. Along with his duties as future (hopefully far future) King of the Infinite Realms.
That was still so weird.
Although, his mind, always prepared for the disaster scenario, supplied, he might never have to be king at all if his powers decided to stop time on a more permanent basis.
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"No," said Clockwork, when they finally found him, "that can't happen."
"Oh, good," said Danny.
"Wait," said Mr. Lancer. "What can't happen?" Because Danny hadn't actually managed to ask the question before Clockwork answered.
"Don't worry about it," said Clockwork, smiling beatifically, "it can't happen. You would eventually self-destruct." He directed this last to Danny.
"That is significantly less comforting."
"Your body would most likely stop before it got to that point, anyway," said Clockwork, blithely. "Like humans, ghosts do have natural limitations and safeguards. Similar to how hysterical strength can only be accessed when one is hysterical."
"Still not comforting," said Danny. "You're saying I could do that accidentally. Because I panicked."
"Again, unlikely."
"And my leg is turning into glass."
"It's what?"
The ghosts turned to face the still present humans, chief among them being Mr. Lancer, who had gone pale. The few members of the class who had been in the area and stayed to eavesdrop looked disturbed as well. The nearby ghosts were politely and unconvincingly pretending that they had gone deaf.
Clockwork slid closer to Danny, raised a panel of his cloak like a bat wing, and wrapped it around Danny, along with his arm.
Oh, this was a hug. Excellent. He needed one. He latched on.
Clockwork waved, then flew the two of them backwards through a blue portal. They came out in a nice, quiet corner. One of Libra's art galleries. Danny sighed, and leaned into Clockwork, taking in the soothing surroundings.
… Was that a painting of the Children's Day party he'd gone to with Ellie last year?
It was.
Why?
Okay, not an important question right now.
"Feeling better?" asked Clockwork.
"Yes," said Danny. "I'm sorry I ran out on everyone before, and then came back and freaked out."
"It's alright," said Clockwork. "This is a very stressful situation, and you haven't been entirely well lately. Those who would blame you for it are not worth your time. In any sense of the word."
"The glass thing is going to get better, right?" asked Danny.
"It should," said Clockwork.
Something terrible occurred to Danny. "It isn't going to be, like, this thing where all the kings of the Ghost Zone have to get injured or whatever, is it? I think I remember reading something like that once. A comic, maybe?"
"We don't have anything like that," said Clockwork. "At least not with your position. It is something I would have warned you about."
"Oh, good," said Danny. "You're sure?"
"Quite positive."
Danny nodded. "Clockwork?"
"Yes?"
"What will you do," he started, "if—if the custody hearing… If they don't pick you at the custody hearing?"
Clockwork hummed, the sound resonating in Danny's chest. "I suppose that I would try again," he said. The hand that was not occupied with holding Danny ran up and down the haft of his staff. "I can do that now. The resulting paradoxes would be annoying, but more than worth it."
Danny blinked. His ankle twinged. "Paradoxes."
"Well, yes," said Clockwork.
"That's not what I—Clockwork," he said, distressed. "Have you been taking care of the paradoxes? All your tools were broken, and you've been here."
Clockwork simply gazed at Danny for a moment. Danny wasn't sure if the ticks of the clock in his chest went off-rhythm, or if was just his imagination.
"No," said Clockwork. "Oh, dear. That might explain—Well. A few things." The Ancient ghost's body language did something Danny couldn't quite call a wince. "Actually," he shifted, "may I see your foot?" He laid his staff down by his side. It floated slightly, as certain ghostly objects are wont to do.
Danny obliged.
"What happened to your shoes?" asked Clockwork.
Danny shrugged as best he could in his current position.
"It doesn't particularly matter," decided Clockwork, examining Danny's toes. "But I can't help but feel like you would have fewer incidents like this if you wore proper footwear."
"I was wearing proper footwear," protested Danny. "It just didn't help."
"Perhaps I should get you some combat boots," said Clockwork. "White ones?"
"I don't know," said Danny, as Clockwork gently pulled his pinky toe away from its neighbor.
"You should think about it, I think," said Clockwork. Then he made a face. "I should have noticed this, but I'm afraid I was too elated by the recovery of my staff. That fight as a whole was full of time travel. Temporal manipulation. Yet you and I retained memories of the event. I would posit that Dan did as well, and possibly Danielle, although neither of them has spoken to me about it." Clockwork's frown deepened, and he shifted into his oldest form. "The glass in your foot was part of the locus of the event. The only thing worse would be if you somehow got a piece of my staff in your foot."
"Yeah, I can imagine that wouldn't be good," said Danny.
"Then, combined with all the other temporal mishaps you've been involved in lately…" Clockwork trailed off.
"Is the glass, like, feeding on my time weirdness?"
"Ah, good intuition," said Clockwork. "Although, that does explain how I did not notice immediately. Perhaps Dan may have further confused the matter." He made a face, turning young. "Even so, I should have noticed this. I apologize, Daniel. I'm afraid I am not as recovered as I believed."
"Frostbite couldn't find anything either."
"Frostbite is a wonderful physician," said Clockwork, "but he is not Master of Time."
"No, but he is the Master of Ice," said Danny, vaguely amused by the chain. "Or, well, we haven't really done the naming ceremony or anything yet. Maybe he'll want a different title. Master of Medicine? Like, that's more in line with his Obsession, but I don't know if he wants that to be broadcast. Maybe I should have talked to him more…"
"I'm sure he's honored by your decision," said Clockwork.
"But what if he's not?"
"When has he ever not been honored by you?"
"I mean, the Infinimap comes to mind," said Danny.
Clockwork paused to return to young adulthood and ruffle Danny's hair with his longer arms. Danny attempted to poke him back.
"Can you fix it?" asked Danny. "Do I need find Desiree and have her take off the wi—Uh. Illusion."
"I don't think so," said Clockwork. He hummed. "In truth, I think that waiting it out, like we discussed earlier would work." He clicked his tongue. "I don't have my tools."
"They're broken."
"Yes." He turned the word into a hiss of annoyance.
"Should I find Desiree?"
"No," said Clockwork, "however… Repairing this without my tools will be a rather difficult and time-consuming process."
"Literally?"
"Yes, that is the issue at hand. Unless… Well. In theory you could fix it yourself, but you don't presently have the skillset."
"I could learn," said Danny. "At least enough to help."
"That would take time, too, and while you do have to learn eventually, you have so many other responsibilities right now."
"Grandfather, my leg is turning into glass."
Clockwork frowned. "I know it is uncomfortable, but it isn't that much of an issue, is it?" asked the man who was, himself, partially made of glass.
Oh. Actually, that made some of the earlier things he said about it make more sense. Okay.
"It's not so much the 'glass' part, as it's the 'my body is changing without my permission,' part."
Clockwork shifted. "Yes, that can be distressing," he said.
The two of them simply sat next to each other for a while, staring at the paintings.
"So, uh," said Danny, "are all of these pictures of child ghosts?"
"There are a few that are paintings of the moment immediately prior to them becoming deceased."
"But, like, why?"
"People like children," said Clockwork.
"Fair," said Danny, after a moment. "The nuclear reactor kids are kind of disturbing."
Clockwork smiled, more than a little mischief in his eyes. "Would you like to meet them?"
"Heck yes."
The door to the gallery opened, and Clockwork's advocate slipped in, looking nervous. "Lord Clockwork," she said, "Lord Phantom, the jury has announced that they are prepared to read their verdict. The Lady Themis has announced she is recalling the court and all relevant parties to hear it in an hour." She twitched. "Half an hour. My apologies, I neglected to take into account how long I had been searching."
Well, thought Danny, some distant part of him marveling at how nervous Oleander still was around Clockwork, that was certainly one way to ruin a mood.
